Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/91

Rh Thy father's blindness? Have I hither come To check an impious crime, or see it done Before my very eyes? [Eteocles yields to her.] He sheathes his sword. And on his peaceful, grounded spear he leans. [She turns to Polynices.] And now to thee, O son, thy mother turns With prayers and tears. At last I see thy face Which long have I desired and prayed to see. Thee, as an exile from thy fatherland, The household of a foreign king protects; O'er many seas, by many chances driven, Thou'rt still a wanderer. It was not mine With stately train to lead thee to thy bride, With my own hand to deck the festal halls, And with sacred fillets wreathe thy wedding torch. The father of thy bride no wedding gifts, No wealth of gold, has given, no fields, no towns; Thy only gift is war. A foeman's son Hast thou become, far from thy native land, An alien household's guest, driven from thine own, Committed to another's interests, A sinless exile. That no element Might fail thee of thy father's hapless fate, Thou too hast blundered in thy marriage choice. O son, after so many years returned, O son, thy anxious mother's hope and fear, For sight of whom I ever prayed the gods; Though thy return was doomed to take from me As much as at thy coming it could give: "When shall I cease to fear for thee?" I said; The mocking god replied: "Him shalt thou fear." I should not have thee near me now, indeed, Were there no war; and there would be no war, If thou wert not at hand. Oh, bitter price And hard, that I must pay for sight of thee. But still there's pleasure in't. These hostile hosts— Let them withdraw a little space from here,