Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/88

70 Or, if within my sight one impious deed Can be committed then shall two be done. [Exit toward the scene of conflict.] Antigone: Now gleam the advancing standards, near at hand; And loud the hostile battle-cry resounds. A moment, and the impious deed is done. O mother, speed thee with thy prayers. But see! You would suppose them by my weeping moved, So slowly do the arméd lines advance. Messenger: The lines move slowly, but the leaders haste. Jocasta [hurrying onward]: What wingéd wind will speed me through the air, Bearing me onward with the storm's mad whirl? What monstrous Sphinx or dark Stymphalian bird, Whose spreading wings blot out the light of day, Will tear me on its space-consuming wings? What Harpy, hovering o'er the royal board Of that stern Thracian king, will catch me up Along the lofty highways of the air, And cast me headlong 'twixt th' opposing lines? Messenger [looking after her]: Like some wild creature reft of sense she goes. Swift as an arrow shot by Parthian hand, Or as a ship which boisterous winds impel, Or as the flight of falling star from heaven, Which in unswerving course athwart the sky Darts on its fiery way: with maddened haste The queen has sped her flight, and even now Has ta'en her stand between th' opposing lines. The battle pauses yet a little while, O'ercome at sight of those maternal tears. And now the hosts, on mutual slaughter bent, Stand with their weapons balanced in their hands. Peace wins the day; the threat'ning points are lowered; The swords are sheathed. But in the brothers' hands They still are poised. The frantic mother now, Her white hair torn with grieving, speaks to them, Beseaches their reluctant, stubborn wills, And wets their knees with tears. Too long they bide: Such halting bodes the mother's prayers denied.