Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/408

390 Let us retrace our steps, while still there's room, To that estate whence we should ne'er have come; Let even now fair fame be sought again; For never is it over late to mend. Who grieves for sin is counted innocent. Aegisthus: What madness this? Dost thou believe or hope That Agamemnon will be true to thee? Though no grave fears, of conscious guilt begot, Annoyed thy soul with thoughts of punishment; Still would his swelling, o'er-inflated pride, Create in him a dour and headstrong mood. Harsh was he to his friends while Troy still stood; How, think'st thou, has the fall of Troy pricked on His soul, by nature harsh, to greater harshness? Mycenae's king he went; he will return Her tyrant. So doth fortune foster pride. With how great pomp this throng of rivals comes! But one of these, surpassing all the rest, Apollo's priestess, holds the king in thrall. And wilt thou meekly share thy lord with her? But she will not. A wife's last infamy— To see her rival ruling in her stead. No throne nor bed can brook a rival mate. Clytemnestra: Aegisthus, why dost drive me headlong on, And fan to flames again my dying wrath? For if the victor has his right employed, To work his will upon a captive maid, His wife should not complain or reck of this. The law that binds the man fits not the king. And why should I, myself in conscious guilt, Make bold to sit in judgment on my lord? Let her forgive who most forgiveness needs. Aegisthus: In very truth there's room for mutual grace. But thou know'st naught of royal privilege. Thee will the king judge harshly, to himself A milder law in gentler mood apply. And this they deem the highest pledge of power, If, what to common mortals is denied, Is given by general will to them alone.