Chor. Now do I trust that he

      Who bears upon his shield the hated form

      Of Power whom Earth doth shroud,

      Antagonist to Zeus, unloved by men

      And by the ageless Gods,

      Before those gates of ours

      To his own hurt may dash his haughty head.

      Mess. So may it be! And now the fifth I tell,

      Who the fifth gates, the Northern, occupies,

      Hard by Amphion's tomb, the son of Zeus;

      And by his spear he swears, (which he is bold

      To honour more than God or his own eyes,)

      That he will sack the fort of the Cadmeians

      With that spear's might. So speaks the offspring fair

      Of mother mountain-bred, a stripling hero;

      And the soft down is creeping o'er his cheeks,

      Youth's growth, and hair that floweth full and thick;

      And he with soul, not maiden's like his name,103

      But stern, with flashing eye, is standing there.

      Nor stands he at the gate without a vaunt;

      For on his brass-wrought buckler, strong defence,

      Full-orbed, his body guarding, he the shame

      Of this our city bears, the ravenous Sphinx,

      With rivets fixed, all burnished and embossed;104

      And under her she holdeth a Cadmeian,

      That so on him most arrows might be shot.

      No chance that he will fight a peddling fight,

      Nor shame the long, long journey he hath come,

      Parthenopæos, in Arcadia born:

      This man did Argos welcome as a guest,

      And now he pays her for her goodly rearing,

      And threatens these our towers with … God avert it!

      Eteoc. Should the Gods give them what they plan 'gainst us,

      Then they, with those their godless boastings high,

      Would perish shamefully and utterly.

      And for this man of Arcady thou tell'st of,

      We have a man who boasts not, but his hand

      Sees the right thing to do; – Actôr, of him

      I named but now the brother, – who no tongue

      Divorced from deeds will ever let within

      Our gates, to spread and multiply our ills,

      Nor him who bears upon his foeman's shield

      The image of the hateful venomed beast;

      But she without shall blame him as he tries

      To take her in, when she beneath our walls

      Gets sorely bruised and battered.105 And herein,

      If the Gods will, I prophet true shall prove.

      Chor. Thy words thrill through my breast;

      My hair stands all on end,

      To hear the boastings great

      Of those who speak great things

      Unholy. May the Gods

      Destroy them in our land!

      Mess. A sixth I tell of, one of noblest mood,

      Amphiaraos, seer and warrior famed;

      He, stationed at the Homolôian gates,

      Reproves the mighty Tydeus with sharp words

      As 'murderer,' and 'troubler of the State,'106

      'To Argos teacher of all direst ills,

      Erinnys' sumpnour,'107 'murder's minister,'

      Whose counsels led Adrastos to these ills.

      And at thy brother Polyneikes glancing

      With eyes uplifted for his father's fate,

      And ending, twice he syllabled his name,108

      And called him, and thus speaketh with his lips: —

      “A goodly deed, and pleasant to the Gods,

      Noble for after age to hear and tell,

      Thy father's city and thy country's Gods

      To waste through might of mercenary host!

      And how shall Justice stay thy mother's tears?109

      And how, when conquered, shall thy fatherland,

      Laid waste, become a true ally to thee?

      As for myself, I shall that land make rich,110

      A prophet buried in a foeman's soil:

      To arms! I look for no inglorious death.”

      So spake the prophet, bearing full-orbed shield

      Wrought all of bronze, no ensign on that orb.

      He wishes to be just, and not to seem,111

      Reaping full harvest from his soul's deep furrows,

      Whence ever new and noble counsels spring.

      I bid