Eteocles.
Here also gain accrueth upon gain.
When in o'erweening thoughts vain men indulge
Their true bewrayer is their proper tongue.
Now threatens Capaneus, for fight equipped,
Scorning the gods; and, practising his tongue,
With senseless joy, though mortal, he to heaven,
High surging words upsends, defying Zeus;
Full faith have I that Zeus, with justice' aid,
Him with his fire-charged thunderbolt will smite,
No whit resembling noonday's solar beams. 440
Him to confront, despite his raving tongue,
Is hero marshall'd, ay, a soul of fire,
Stout Polyphontes; trusty bulwark he,
By grace of tutelary Artemis,
And kindly aid of other gods. Tell on,
Who against other gates the lot hath drawn?
Chorus. Antistrophe I.
Perish who vaunteth mightily
Against our city! His career
May thunder check, ere, with o'erweening spear,
My home invading, me as captive prey 450
He driveth from my girlish haunts away!
Messenger.
Him next who drew his station at the ports
I'll name. For to Eteocles, third chief,
From upturn'd brazen casque leapt the third lot,
His band against Neistan gates to lead.
