Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/66

48 To that afflicted one, and fears to speak. Now shame at last has yielded to her grief, And with a faltering tongue she speaks to him. Jocasta: What shall I call thee? Son? Dost shun that name? Thou art my son; thy shame confesseth it. And yet, O son, though all unwilling, speak. Why dost thou turn away thy sightless face? Oedipus: Who now forbids me to enjoy my night? Who gives me back mine eyes? My mother's voice! Oh, awful sound! Now is my labor vain. Stay where thou art! Each step is impious. Let boundless seas our guilty souls divide, And lands remote; and if beneath this land Some other hangs, beholding other stars, May that far country one of us receive. Jocasta: What thou deplorest is the fault of fate. A fated crime can leave no stain of sin. Oedipus: Now cease thy words, O mother, spare my ears, By these poor remnants of my mangled form, By that unhallowed offspring of my blood, And all that in the double names we bear Is right and wrong! Jocasta [to herself]:Why art thou listless now, O soul of mine? Since thou hast shared his guilt, Why hesitate to share his punishment? The beauty of all human intercourse Has fallen into ruin for thy sake, Confused and lost, O wretch incestuous. Not if the father of the gods himself Should hurl at me his glittering thunderbolts, Could I for my foul crimes atonement make, Since I the name of mother have profaned. Now death is welcome, but the way of death Must I consider. [To Oedipus.] Come, thou parricide, And lift thy hand against thy mother too. This act is wanting to complete thy work. [To herself.] Now let the sword be drawn. By this good blade