the loss of which thou lamentest had been thine, thou couldst never have
lost them. Am I alone to be forbidden to do what I will with my own?
Unrebuked, the skies now reveal the brightness of day, now shroud the
daylight in the darkness of night; the year may now engarland the face
of the earth with flowers and fruits, now disfigure it with storms and
cold. The sea is permitted to invite with smooth and tranquil surface
to-day, to-morrow to roughen with wave and storm. Shall man's insatiate
greed bind _me_ to a constancy foreign to my character? This is my art,
this the game I never cease to play. I turn the wheel that spins. I
delight to see the high come down and the low ascend. Mount up, if thou
wilt, but only on condition that thou wilt not think it a hardship to
come down when the rules of my game require it. Wert thou ignorant of my
character? Didst not know how Croesus, King of the Lydians, erstwhile
the dreaded rival of Cyrus, was afterwards pitiably consigned to the
flame of the pyre, and only saved by a shower sent from heaven? Has it
'scaped thee how Paullus paid a meed of pious tears to the misfortunes
of King Perseus, his prisoner? What else do tragedies make such woeful
outcry over save the overthrow of kingdoms by the indiscriminate strokes
of Fortune? Didst thou not learn in thy childhood how there stand at the
threshold of Zeus 'two jars,' 'the one full of blessings, the other of
calamities'? How if thou hast drawn over-liberally from the good jar?
What if not even now have I departed wholly from thee? What if this very
mutability of mine is a just ground for hoping better things? But listen
now, and cease to let thy heart consume away with fretfulness, nor
expect to live on thine own terms in a realm that is common to all.'



SONG II.