Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/43

Rh Much truth is bidden when the eye is dimmed. But when my country, when Apollo calls, I will obey. Then let me search the fates. If in my veins still flowed the blood of youth, I would myself sustain the god and speak. Now to the altar drive a pure-white bull, A heifer, too, upon whose tender neck The curved yoke of toil hath never pressed. And thou, my child, who guid'st my darkened steps, Describe the omens which Apollo sends. [The victims are stationed before the altar as directed.] Manto: A perfect victim at the altar stands. Tiresias: With prayer invoke the presence of the gods, And heap the altar high with frankincense. Manto: Lo, on the sacred fire the spice is heaped. Tiresias: What of the flame? Did it with vigor seize The generous feast? Manto: With sudden gleam it leaped Into the air, and quickly fell again. Tiresias: And did the sacred fire burn bright and clear, And point its gleaming summit straight to heaven, And, spreading outward, to the breeze unfold; Or crawl, with course uncertain, near the ground, And, flickering, die away in gloomy smoke? Manto: Not one appearance only had the flame. As when the tempest-bringing Iris spreads Her varying colors on the vault of heaven, And with her painted bow adorns the sky; So to the sacred fire thou wouldst not tell What hue is wanting there and what prevails. Dark blue it flickered first, with yellow spots; Then bloody red, and then it vanished quite. But see! the flame is rent in rival parts, And the glowing embers of one sacred pile Are cleft in double heaps and fall apart! O father, horror fills me as I gaze; For, as I pour the sacred liquid forth, It changes straight to blood—Oh, horrible! And stifling smoke surrounds the royal head.