Great Juno, chosen by lot, occupies the bridal apartment of her brother. Why is the wife and sister of Augustus driven from her ancestral halls? What does sacred pity avail her? What, a divine father? What, chastity and virtuous modesty? We, too, are forgetful of ourselves after the death of a leader whose son we betrayed since his life caused fear.[52] Once there was genuine Roman valor of the ancestors and the true race and blood of Mars in these men. They drove the haughty kings from Rome, and well did they avenge thy wrongs, Lucretia, thou, dishonored by the cruel tyrant and killed by thy own wretched hand.[53] Tullia, the wife of [Tarquinius], paid the penalty for her dreadful crimes.—Tullia who wickedly drove the cruel chariot over the body of her murdered father and refused a funeral pyre to the mangled old man.[54]
This generation has seen the infamous crime of a son who sent into the Tuscan seas his mother enticed into the fatal boat by treachery.[55] The sailors are ordered to leave the peaceful port; the waves resound with the measured beat of the oars. The ship is borne along upon the deep seas; sinking slowly, it suddenly divides and sucks in the waters. A great clamor mingled with women’s wailing is raised to the stars; a dreadful death threatens them; each one seeks for himself escape from death; some cling to the planks of the shattered stern; their naked bodies cleave the waves; others swim for the shore; the fates plunge many to the depths of the sea. Augusta rends her clothing; she tears her hair and weeps. After she has given up hope of escape, burning with wrath and overcome by her misfortune, she exclaims, “Dost thou reward me, thus, for my great services, my son? I confess that I am worthy of this ship since I gave birth to thee, and in my madness gave thee life, dominion, and the royal name of Caesar.
“Lift thy face from the lower world, husband, and feast upon my punishment. The cause of thy death, Claudius, and the instigator of thy son’s funeral pyre, I shall be borne to Tartarus, deservedly unburied and overwhelmed by the savage waters of the sea.” As she spoke, the waves beat her face, she rises again from the waters; in terror, she beats the billows with her palms but finally exhausted she yields to the struggle. Loyalty still remained in silent hearts though scorned even in the hour of bitter death. Many hasten to aid their mistress whose strength is broken by the force of the sea. With shouts they encourage her as she slowly but persistently waves her arms. Eagerly they lift her into their boat. What did it profit thee to escape the waters of the cruel sea? Thou art destined to die by the sword of thy son whose infamous crime posterity will scarcely believe and to which succeeding generations will always be slow to give credence. The unnatural son is furious at his mother’s escape, he grieves that she is saved from the sea, and he commits a greater crime by hastening her death. The servant sent to commit the murder lays open the breast of the mother with his sword. The unhappy woman, while dying, commands the slave to bury the fierce sword in her womb. “Here, here is the place. The sword must pierce the womb which bore such a monster.” Then, passionately weeping, she breathed her last.
SENECA: O, thou powerful Fortune with beguiling but treacherous countenance! Why didst thou elevate me when I was content with my lot? Didst thou hope that, received into a lofty citadel, I might see afar so many causes for anxiety and therefore fall most heavily?[56]
Rather would I, removed far away from envious misfortunes, lie concealed among the rocks of the Corsican sea where my mind had freedom and leisure to pursue its studies.[57] O how delightful it was to watch the sky which is as great as anything Mother Nature, the builder of the universe, has produced, to gaze upon the alternating changes of the sun and moon surrounded by wandering stars, the far shining glory of the lofty firmament. If this world wanes, if, although so great, it returns again to gloomy chaos, be thou present to the world, that last day which overwhelmed the wicked race of the world with ruin so that rising again, it produced a new and better generation. Such a people[58] Jupiter brought forth when Saturn held the dominion of the universe.[59]
The maiden Justice, the goddess of divine majesty, sent with sacred Piety from heaven, mercifully ruled the human race. The nations had not known wars, nor the fierce blasts of the trumpets, nor arms; they did not surround their cities with walls; everything was held in common. Mother Earth herself, blessed and happy in her devout foster sons, voluntarily opened her fruitful bosom. But a second race less skilled and gentle appeared; then a third, practised in new arts but not wicked yet.[60] Soon this age was restless. It dared to follow the swift wild beasts in their course, to draw out with heavy net the fish concealed in the depths, to catch the birds in lime twig snares, to hold a trap-X-X-X,[61] make the fierce bulls submissive to the yoke, to plow the earth before untouched by a plowshare,—the land which concealed its fruits far within its sacred bosom. But a worse age pierced the vitals of its own parent.