Hair thickly sprouting of youth's budding prime. 530
But he with savage temper, which belies
His maiden name, and with an eye of dread,
Taketh his post;—yet stands he at our gates
Not without vaunt, for on his shield brass-wrought,
His body's rounded bulwark, he doth wield
The raw-devouring Sphinx, our city's shame,
Her form stud-fastened, brilliantly embossed.
A man she holds beneath her, a Cadmeian,
A target so for missiles thickly showered.
Hither he comes no peddling fight to wage, 540
Nor the long route he traversed to disgrace;
Parthenopaios, an Arcadian born,
But denizen of Argos; such a man
Doth Argos' kindly nurture now repay
By threats against our towers, which heaven avert!
Eteocles.
From the high gods may they the doom obtain
Planned against us; so, with these godless vaunts,
Themselves, o'erthrown, shall perish utterly.
'Gainst this Arcadian, him thou tellest of,
The warrior Actor stands; no boaster he,
But with a hand which sees the thing to do;
Brother of him whom I before described. 550
No fluent, deedless, tongue will he admit
Within our gates to aggravate our ills,
Nor him allow to pass, on hostile shield
Who bears the image of that hateful pest.
*****
