Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/50

32 Oedipus: In hades shalt thou pay thy life for all, Unless thou till the secrets of the fates. Creon: Nay, let me hold my peace. No smaller boon Was ever sought. Oedipus: More often than by speech, Have kingdoms by the boon of silence fall'n.   Creon: When silence is denied what can be given? Oedipus: He sins who silence holds when speech is best. Creon: Then hear in peace the words which I must speak. Oedipus: Was ever punishment for speech compelled? Creon: Afar from Thebes there is a frowning grove War the well watered vale of Dirce's fount. And there a cypress lifts its giant head And holds within its evergreen embrace The trees around. Here stands an ancient oak And spreads its branches dark with clustering mould. One side is torn by time's destructive hand; The rest, with roots decayed and falling, hangs Supported on a neighbor's trunk. Here stand The bitter laurel, rustling linden trees, The myrtle, and the alder destined soon To sweep its oarage on the boundless sea. Midway, a mighty pine its smooth trunk lifts Against the rays of Phoebus and the winds, And with its heavy shade it overwhelms The lesser trees; for, with its spreading boughs, It stands, the giant guardian of the wood. Beneath this pine there springs a gloomy pool That never saw the sun nor light of day. An oozy swamp surrounds the sluggish pool. Here did the aged priest direct his steps; Nor was there need to wait; the gloomy spot Supplied the shades of night. A trench is dug, Where brands are kindled, pluck'd from funeral pyres. The priest is shrouded in a mourning pall, And waves the bough; his dark robe sweeps the earth. And now, in squalid garb and wrapped in gloom, The priest advances, with his hoary locks Encircled by the yew-tree's deadly leaves.