Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/56

38 Oedipus: Nay, he who feareth hatred overmuch,

Knows not the art of ruling like a king;

For 'tis by fear that kings are guarded most.

Creon: Who holds the scepter with tyrannic sway,

Doth live in fear of those who fear his power;

For terror ever doth return to him Who doth inspire it. Oedipus: [to attendants]: Hence, away with him; Deep in some rocky dungeon let him stay, While I unto the palace take my way. [Creon is led away by the attendants, while Oedipus retires into the palace.]

Chorus: Not thou the cause of these our ills; And not on thy acocunt [sic] hath fate Attacked the house of Labdacus; But 'tis the ancient wrath of heaven That still pursues our race. Castalia's grove once lent its shade Unto the Tyrian wanderer, And Dirce gave her cooling waves, What time the great Agenor's son, O'er all the earth the stolen prey Of Jove pursuing, worn and spent, Within these forests knelt him down And adored the heavenly ravisher. Then by Apollo's bidding led, A wandering heifer following, Upon whose neck the dragging plow, Nor the plodding wagon's curving yoke Had never rested, he his quest At last gave over, and his race From that ill-omened heifer named. From that time forth, the land of Thebes Strange monsters hath engendered: first, That serpent, sprung from the valley's depths, Hissing, o'ertopped the aged oaks And lofty pines; and higher still, Above Chaonia's woods, he reared His gleaming head, though on the ground His body lay in many coils. And next the teeming earth produced