And leave our own undone? I hear a voice
Reproaching me that I am slow to vengeance;
I, whom the Fates but spare a few short hours,
That I may open paths to other masters,
For whom they find the scourge. They tutor me
That mine’s a present mission; not for me
To traverse the wide future in pursuit
Of those who shall succeed me in their service,
But to speed onward in the work of terror,
So that no hungering Fate, the victim ready,