Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/469

Rh With death, why does her savage heart begrudge That I should die at home? But now, alas, I can no longer hope for life; behold, My brother's bark, within whose treacherous hold His mother once was borne; and now for me, Poor wretch, his slighted sister-wife, it waits. No more has right a place upon the earth, Nor heavenly gods. Grim Fury reigns supreme. Oh, who can fitly weep my evil plight? What nightingale has tongue to sing my woes? Would that the fates would grant her wings to me! Then would I speed away on pinions swift, And leave my grievous troubles far behind, Leave these unholy haunts of savage men. There, all alone, within some forest wide, Among the swaying branches would I sit, And let my grieving spirit weep its fill. Chorus: The race of men is by the fates controlled, And none may hope to make his own secure; And o'er the ever-shifting ways of life The day which most we fear shall come to us. But comfort now thy heart with thought of those Of thine own house who suffered ill, and ask: In what has fortune been more harsh to thee? Thee first I name, Agrippa's noble child, The famous mother of so many sons, Great Caesar's wife, whose name throughout the world In flaming glory shone, whose teeming womb Brought forth so many hostages of peace: E'en thee did exile wait, and cruel chains, Blows, bitter anguish, and at last a death Of lingering agony. And Livia, thou, Though fortunate in husband and in sons, Didst walk the way of sin—and punishment. And Julia, too, endured her mother's fate; For, though no evil deed was charged to her, She fell a victim to the sword at last. What could not once thy mighty mother do Who ruled supreme the house of Claudius,