Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/404

386 The meanest things in longest fortune live.

Then happy he whose modest soul In safety seeks a nearer goal; Fearing to leave the friendly shore, He rows with unambitious oar,

Content in low security to thrive.

Clytemnestra: Why, sluggish soul, dost thou safe counsel seek? Why hesitate? Closed is the better way. Once thou couldst chastely guard thy widowed couch, And keep thy husband's realm with wifely faith; But now, long since has faith thy palace fled, The homely virtues, honor, piety, And chastity, which goes, but ne'er returns. Loose be thy reins, swift speed thy wanton course; The safest way through crime is by the path Of greater crime. Consider in thy heart All woman's wiles, what faithless wives have done, Bereft of reason, blind and passion-driven; What bloody deeds stepmother's hands have dared; Or what she dared, ablaze with impious love, Who left her father's realm for Thessaly: Dare sword, dare poison; else in stealthy flight Must thou go hence with him who shares thy guilt. But who would talk of stealth, of exile, flight? Such were thy sister's deeds: some greater crime, Some mightier deed of evil suits thy hand. Nurse: O Grecian queen, illustrious Leda's child, What say'st thou there in whispered mutterings? Or what unbridled deeds within thy breast, By reckless passion tossed, dost meditate? Though thou be silent, yet thy face declares Thy hidden pain in speech more eloquent. Whate'er thy grief, take time and room for thought. Time often cures what reason cannot heal. Clytemnestra: Too dire my grief to wait time's healing hand. My very soul is scorched with flaming pains: I feel the goads of fear and jealous rage,