Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/152

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In Phlegra's vale, and gods were reinforced, 445
What need we yet to prove his parentage?
Do we make false pretense of Jupiter?
Then Juno's hate believe.
Lycus: ⁠Why blaspheme Jove?
The race of mortals cannot mate with gods.
Amphitr.: Such is the origin of many gods.
Lycus: ⁠But were they slaves before their heaven was gained? 450
Amphitr.: The Delian at Pherae kept the flocks.
Lycus: ⁠But he did not in exile roam the world.
Amphitr.: His mother bore him in a roaming land,
Herself a fugitive.
Lycus: ⁠Did Phoebus fear
Wild beasts and monsters?
Amphitryon: ⁠Yes, in dragon's blood 455
His earliest shafts were stained.
Lycus: ⁠Thou knowest not
What heavy ills the young Alcides bore.
Amphitr.: But Bacchus by a thunderbolt was ripped
From out his mother's womb; and yet he stood
In after time beside the Thunderer,
His sire. Nay, Jove himself, who rules the stars
And drives the clouds, did he not lie concealed, 460
In helpless infancy in Ida's cave?
A heavy price must so high lineage pay,
And suffering is the birthright of a god.
Lycus: ⁠Whoe'er is wretched, thou wouldst mortal know.
Amphitr.: Whoe'er is brave, thou wouldst not wretched call.
Lycus: ⁠But is he brave, from whose broad shoulders fell 465
The lion's skin and club, that they might be
A maiden's plaything? Who himself shone bright
In Tyrian vestments? Should we call him brave,
Whose bristling locks were wet with fragrant nard,
Whose famous hands in woman's wise essayed
To play the tambour; on whose frowning brow 470
The Phrygian turban shamelessly was worn?
Amphitr.: But youthful Bacchus did not blush to wear
His locks in flowing ringlets, in his hand
The thyrsus light to brandish, as he walked