"But death of brothers by each other slain,
That stain no expiation can atone."
To their entreaties the king opposes the claims of honour, and he faces the curse with the courage of despair.
"No; since the god impels me, I will on.
And let the race by Laius, let them all
Abhorred of Phœbus, in this storm of fate
Sink down to deep Cocytus' dreary flood."
The Chorus think that in calmer moments Eteocles will give up so wild a resolution; but his choice is deliberate, he sees the certain ruin, and goes out unhesitatingly to meet it.
The ode which follows strikes the key-note of the piece. The issue of the war is being determined at the seven gates, and meanwhile the Chorus express the anxiety of the spectators, and show how fully the past history of the royal house justifies the gloomiest apprehensions. We give the whole ode, as a good instance of the function of the Chorus in explaining the true moral significance of an event:—
"She comes, the fierce tremendous power,
And harrows up my soul with dread;
No gentle goddess, prompt to shower
Her blessings on some favoured head.
I know her now, the prophetess of ill,
And vengeance ratifies each word,
The votive fury, fiend abhorred,
The father's curses to fulfil.
Dreadful she comes, and with her brings
The brood of fate, that laps the blood of kings.
