Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/138

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My outraged soul shall kindle; and my grief,
All hope of truce denying; endless wars
Shall fiercely wage. But what avail my wars? 30
Whatever savage things the hurtful earth,
The sea or air produce, terrific shapes,
Fierce, pestilential, horrible, and dire.
The power of all is broken and subdued.
Alcides towers above and thrives on woe;
My wrath is his delight, and to his praise
He turns my deadly hate. While I, too stern, 35
Impose his dreadful tasks, I do but prove
His origin, and opportunity
For glorious achievement render him.
Where Phoebus with his neighboring torch illumes
The east and western shores of Aethiop's land,
Alcides' dauntless courage is adored;
While all the world considers him a god.
And now have I no monsters more to send; 40
And less his toil to do the tasks I bid,
Than mine to set them. Joyfully he hears
My several commands. But what dire tasks
The tyrant may conceive can harm that youth
Impetuous? His very arms, forsooth,
Are torn from monsters which he feared—and slew; 45
With spoils of lion and of hydra armed,
He walks abroad. Nor are the lands of earth
Enough for him: behold, the doors of Dis
Are burst, and to the upper world he brings
The booty taken from the vanquished king.
'Tis not enough that he returns alive:
The law that binds the shades is set at naught.
Myself I saw him, when he had o'ercome 50
The king of hades and escaped the night
Of that deep underworld, display to Jove
The spoils of Dis. But why does he not lead,
Oppressed and overcome, the king himself
Who gained by lot an equal realm with Jove?
Why rules he not in conquered Erebus?
Why bares he not the Styx? His upward way