Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/446

428 Nay, even thy stepmother's cruel cheeks Were wet with tears, when on the funeral pyre She placed thy form and saw the flames consume Thy limbs and face fair as the wingéd god's. Octavia: Me, too, he must destroy—or fall by me. Nurse: But nature has not given thee strength to slay. Octavia: Yet anguish, anger, pain, distress of soul, The ecstasy of grief will give me strength. Nurse: Nay, by compliance, rather, win thy lord. Octavia: That thus he may restore my brother slain? Nurse: That thou thyself mayst go unscathed of death; That thou by thine own offspring mayst restore Thy father's falling house. Octavia: This princely house Expects an heir, 'tis true; but not from me, For I am doomed to meet my brother's fate. Nurse: Console thy heart with this, that thou art dear Unto the populace, who love thee well. Octavia: That thought doth soothe, but cannot cure my grief. Nurse: Their power availeth much. Octavia: The prince's more. Nurse: He will regard his wife. Octavia: My foe forbids. Nurse: But she is scorned by all. Octavia: Yet loved by him. Nurse: She is not yet his wife. Octavia: But soon will be, And mother of his child, his kingdom's heir. Nurse: The fire of youthful passion glows at first With heat impetuous; but soon abates, And vanishes like flickering tongues of flame. Unhallowed love cannot for long endure; But pure and lasting is the love inspired By chaste and wifely faith. She who has dared To violate thy bed, and hold so long Thy husband's heart in thrall, herself a slave, Already trembles lest his fickle love Shall thrust her forth and set a rival there. Subdued and humble, even now she shows