
“Hear oh hear, if my prayer be worthy and such as you yourself might whisper to my frenzy. Those I begot (no matter in what bed) did not try to guide me, bereft of sight and sceptre, or sway my grieving with words. Nay behold (ah agony!), in their pride, kings this while by my calamity, they even mock my darkness, impatient of their father's groans. Even to them am I unclean? And does the sire of the gods see it and do naught? Do you at least, my rightful champion, come hither and range all my progeny for punishment. Put on your head this gore-soaked diadem that I tore off with my bloody nails. Spurred by a father's prayers, go against the brothers, go between them, let steel make partnership of blood fly asunder. Queen of Tartarus' pit, grant the wickedness I would fain see.”
Exaudi, si digna precor quaeque ipsa furenti
subiceres. orbum visu regnisque carentem
non regere aut dictis maerentem flectere adorti,
quos genui quocumque toro; quin ecce superbi
—pro dolor!—et nostro jamdudum funere reges
insultant tenebris gemitusque odere paternos.
hisne etiam funestus ego? et videt ista deorum
ignavus genitor? tu saltem debita vindex
huc ades et totos in poenam ordire nepotes.
indue quod madidum tabo diadema cruentis
unguibus abripui, votisque instincta paternis
i media in fratres, generis consortia ferro
dissiliant. da, Tartarei regina barathri,
quod cupiam vidisse nefas.
Source: Thebaid, Book I, Line 73