Eteocles

Dwellers of the city of Cadmus, at the signal given by time and season must the ruler speak who sets the course and steers the ship of state with hand upon the tiller and with eye watchful against the treachery of sleep. For if all goes well, it is thanks to the god, men say, [5] but if adversely (may it not happen!) one name on many lips, from street to street, would be the subject of song [humnos] for the day: "down with Eteocles!" - a prelude to a curse, a lament of ruin. May Zeus the Averter make good his title here, in Cadmus’ citadel! [10] For you it seems right - young men unripened yet to the peak of adolescence [hêbê], also men gone past the prime [hôra] and past the increase of the begetting seed, also those whom youth and manhood well combined make ready for action - for all of you to rise in aid of city, shrines, [15] and altars of all powers who guard our land. So that never, till the end of time, may be blotted out the sacred service due to our most dear [philê] Mother Earth and to her brood. [20] For she it was who called to duty your growing youth, was patient of the effort, and cherished you in the gracious lap of the land, both to plant the hearth and bear the shield in loyal service, for a day like this. You know that, until today, fortune rules our scale; for we, though long besieged, have with our counterattacks struck the enemy hard. [25] But now the seer - the feeder of the birds, whose unerring craft and prophetic skill [tekhnê] of ear and mind divines their bird-calls, without the lore of fire interpreted - he foretells, by the mastery of his art, that now an attack of the Achaeans is by a council of the night designed to rush in double strength upon our walls. [30] Rise up, then, and rush to the battlements, the gates, the towers! Arm yourselves, put on your breastplates, take your stand on the floorings of the towers, and with good heart stand firm for sudden sorties at the gates, [35] nor be afraid of the hordes sent against you from afar: some god will bring a good end [telos]. I too, for keen observation of their camp, have sent forth scouts, and I am confident that they will not fail or tremble at their task, and, when I hear their news, I will fear no enemy’s stratagem.

Scout

Eteocles, most powerful king of Cadmus’ people, I have come from the camp of the Argives with news certified and clear [saphês]. [40] These things I have seen with my own eyes. Seven warriors over there, mighty chieftains, have shed a bull’s blood into the crimsoned concavity of a shield and, with hands immersed into the gore of sacrifice, [45] have sworn by Ares, by the war-goddess Enyo, and by Terror incarnate, who licks gore, either to raze the walls and violently destroy the fortress of Cadmus or, dying here, to drench with their own blood the land of their enemy. Then, as memorials of themselves for their parents far off at home, [50] they attached garlands to the chariot of Adrastus with their own hands, shedding a tear, but without any lament coming from their lips. Their steeled spirit glowed with high resolve, as lions pant, with battle in their eyes. For them, no weak fear delays the clear outcome of death or life! [55] As I was leaving, I saw them casting lots to decide how each of them would lead his own band against which gate. Select and deploy, then, your own very best men, and do so with whatever speed you can muster, at the openings of the gates. For now, full-armed, the army of the Argives is coming! [60] The dust swirls up, and from their panting war-horses white foamy flakes like snow bedew the plain. So you, O leader, like a skilled steersman of a ship, protect the city, before the wind-blast of Ares comes rushing upon us! Listen to the roar of the great landstorm with its waves of men! [65] Seize the occasion, whatever thing is the quickest. As for everything else, I will keep my eye connected to it all, scanning with the clarity [saphêneia] of my wording, which will keep you unscathed by letting you know what is going on out there.

Eteocles

O Zeus and Earth and city-guarding gods! [70] And you too, my father’s Curse [ârâ], you Fury [Erinys] with baneful might! I pray that spare this city. Do not destroy it, uproot it, by violence of the enemy! For here, from home and hearth, rings the language of Hellas. [75] Forbid that the yoke of slavery should ever lay low this land of freedom, the city of Cadmus! Be our strength [alkê]! My hopes are spoken as the common good. A city that is saved gives honor to its gods [daimones]!

The chorus of Theban women enters.

Chorus

I wail in the stress of my terror, and shrill are my cries of grief [akhos]. The enemy roll forth from their camp like a billow, and onward they rush! [80] Their chariot-drivers are swift in the forefront, the dust rises up to the sky, a signal, though speechless, of doom, a messenger more clear [saphês] than a cry! Trampled under hooves, my native land rumbles to my ears. As a torrent descending a mountain, the roar thunders and echoes and nears! The doom is unloosened and comes! O gods, O goddesses, prevent it from falling upon us! The sign for their attack is given - they stream to the walls from outside, [90] with gleaming shields and keen for battle. Who will save us? Which one of the gods or goddesses will protect us? [95] What statues of gods [daimones] shall I seek to supplicate in my terror? O gods high-throned in bliss, let us touch your sacred statues. We must not delay, wailing. [100] Can you hear it? Shield clashes on shield as they come, and now, right now, is the hour for the votive robes [peploi] and garlands! My eyes feel the flash of the sword, the clang of many a spear! Will you hand over to them, [105] O Ares, your own primordial land, O god [daimôn] of the golden helmet? Look down upon us, we pray, upon the land that you had made near and dear [philê] to yourself.

strophe 1

O protecting gods, in pity look upon your people! [110] Save us, our group of suppliant maidens, from the doom and despair of the slave. For the cresting wave of the enemy is approaching, their rush is the rush of a wave rolled on [115] by the breath of Ares! Father Zeus, you who have the power of fulfillment [telos] of everything, hear us and save us [120] from the grasp of the Argives’ might! To the ramparts of Cadmus they crowd, and, clenched in the teeth of the war-horses, the bits clink horror aloud. [125] Seven high chieftains of war, with spear and with armor bold, are set, by the law of the lottery, to storm the seven gates of our citadel!

antistrophe 1

Be near and dear [philê] to us in battle, [130] O Pallas [= Athena], you Zeus-born maiden of might! O lord of horses and the sea, may your trident be uplifted [135] to strike in eager desire for battle, Poseidon! O Ares, come down, in fatherly presence revealed [enargês], to rescue the city of Harmonia! [140] You, too, Cypris [= Aphrodite]! We are descended from your blood, from you, the primal mother of our lineage. To you we cry out with our entreaties, [145] that they may be divinely heard. You, too, O lord of wolves [= Lykeios, = Apollo], to scare back the foe, make your cry as a wolf’s howl wild, you, O child of Leto, prepare your bow and arrows!

strophe 2

[150] Ee-ee, ee-ee! I hear the rattle of chariots all around the city walls, and the creak of the squealing axles! O Hera, our lady! Artemis, near and dear [philê]! [155] The aether is raging with spears. What is going to happen to our city? To what kind of end [telos] is the god taking us?

antistrophe 2

Ee-ee, ee-ee! The blast of the terrible stones upon the ridges of our walls is not held back, and at the gates is the brazen clash of the shields. [160] Apollo, you who are near and dear [philos]! Help us! You too, O daughter of Zeus, blessed queen Onkâ [Athena]! You who guide the wavering battle to a holy outcome [telos], be with us to-day! [165] Come down and stand in front of the city, protecting the sevenfold gates!

strophe 3

O gods and goddesses, you who can bring fulfillment [telos] of our land’s protection! [170] We pray that you will not hand over our war-worn citadel to a host of warriors whose speech is alien to us! Listen to our call, the call of maidens, with our hands held high in prayer for justice [dikê].

antistrophe 3

O gods [daimones], near and dear [philoi]! Be near us, protect us, [175] and show us that the city is dear [philê] in your sight! Keep tunefully in mind [melomai] the sacrifices, holy, of the people [dêmos] in this place. Then, as your mind connects [melomai], give protection! [180] Remember for my sake the sacrifices, near and dear to you.

Eteocles (addressing the Chorus)

Listen to my question, you unbearable outgrowths of the earth! Is this right and for the city’s salvation [sôtêria], and helpful to our army thus besieged, [185] that you before the statues of our gods should fling yourselves, screaming and lamenting your fears? You are things of revulsion for those who are self-controlled [sôphrones]. Let it be my destiny - in times of trouble and in times of peace as well - that I should never have to live together with anything that has to do with the breed of womankind. [190] Where womankind has power [kratos], no man can be in that kind of company. Where womankind nurtures fear, ruin rules alike in house and city! Just look at you! The sight of your fleeing feet, and the sounds of your fears, have spread within our city walls a panic that takes away the breath of life [psukhê]. Those who are outside the walls go from strength to strength, while we are being destroyed from the inside! [195] That is what you get when you live in the same place with womankind. So, if anyone fails to heed my rule [arkhê] - whether it be man, or woman, or whatever is in between these two camps - the vote of sentence shall decide their doom, and stones of execution, beyond escape, shall finish them off. [200] Let not a woman’s voice be heard in deliberations of state! For a man must care in his mind about the things that happen outside the home. A woman must not give public counsel. Even inside the home, there is always the worry that she will do something bad. Did you hear what I said, or did you not? Was I speaking to a deaf woman?

Chorus

O near and dear [philon] child of Oedipus! I am afraid as I hear the rumbling sound "otobonotobon" of the chariot-wheels. [205] The axles turn and squeal; woe to us, as fire-welded bridles ring out!

Eteocles

When a ship is in distress and deep in at sea, did ever a sailor find a remedy for salvation [sôtêria] by abandoning the helm, [210] in order to invoke the sacred statue at the prow?

Chorus

Ah, but I fled to the statues and I called on the gods [daimones] as the snow blizzard roared at the gates. I was confident in the gods. I felt in my fear that I was lifting off into the air, [215] soaring in the direction of my prayers to the blessed ones. Oh, if they would grant protection for the city! You should pray that they defend the towers from the spears of the enemy.

Eteocles

Do these kinds of things come from gods? But people say that gods abandon cities when they fall!

Chorus

Ah, let me die before I ever see [220] this assembly of gods depart as the enemy rush in and all our citadel is wrapped in the burning flame!

Eteocles

Do not invoke the gods when you engage in public counsel that is bad. As the saying goes, the goddess Obedience to authority [arkhê] is the mother of the goddess Success, [225] and she is the wife of the Savior [Sôtêr].

Chorus

Yes, she is. But more mighty still is the power of the god. Whenever there is misfortune, it helps even the one who is resourceless, resurrecting him from the harsh pain as the heavy, hanging clouds dissipate.

Eteocles

[230] It is for men to make sacrifice and interpret omens, approaching the gods, when the time of war is at hand. As for you women, you must be silent and stay indoors.

Chorus

By the grace of the gods we take part in the traditions of a city untamed by the spear, and its towers ward off the hordes of the enemy! [235] What kind of divine sanction [nemesis] could be provoked by these things that I say?

Eteocles

I do not begrudge you the right to give honor [timê] to the family of the gods. But you must not make our men have base feelings in their insides. Be calm in your emotions, and do not show too much fear.

Chorus

It is fresh in my ears, the shouts that fly in the air and the crashing sound of the battle. Up to the heights of our citadel did I rush, [240] on my terrified way to the holy place of honor [timê].

Eteocles

If you now hear the noise of the dying and the wounded, do not give in to your shrieks and screams of lamentation, for Ares feeds on this gore of mortality.

Chorus

[245] Oh, but the snorting of the war-horses I hear!

Eteocles

If you hear it, don’t hear it in a way that is evident [emphanês].

Chorus

Listen how the earth rumbles, as they surround us in a circle!

Eteocles

It is enough if I am here, with plans prepared to circle around them.

Chorus

I am afraid! The battering at the gates is getting louder and louder!

Eteocles

[250] Will you be quiet? Or else the city may hear!

Chorus

O guardians of the walls! Do not surrender!

Eteocles

Be quiet! In silence face destruction.

Chorus

O you gods of our city, do not let me become a captive slave!

Eteocles

With your cries, you bring slavery upon me and the whole city.

Chorus

[255] Zeus, strong with your blows, turn your bolt against the enemy!

Eteocles

Zeus, what kind of a thing you have done to us by giving us the breed of women!

Chorus

A thing that is pitiful! And that is the same thing that men become when their city is captured!

Eteocles

What? You are hanging on to the statues of the gods, and yet voicing your lament of despair?

Chorus

When you are losing your spirit for life [psukhê], fear takes hold of the tongue.

Eteocles

[260] Not heavy is the thing I ask of you: give me your cooperation in the fulfillment [telos] of what I have to do.

Chorus

Tell me right away, and I will know.

Eteocles

So here it is: be silent, you poor female! Do not make fear for those who are near and dear [philoi].

Chorus

Starting from right now, I am silent. I will suffer along with everyone else the fate that is to come.

Eteocles

I prefer this word of silence to those other words of yours. [265] In addition to these things, as you move away from those statues, pray for something better, that the gods may be on our side! Then, hearing my prayers as well, ring out the female cry of triumph, sacred and benign: "ololu." Yes, utter the formula that Hellas knows, the positive shout beside the altars, [270] sounding clear encouragement to the near and dear [philoi], and alarm to the enemy. But I to all gods that guard our walls, lords of the plain or guardians of places where people gather, and to the springs of Dirce and the stream of Ismenus, I swear this: if we are fortunate and our city is saved, [275] we will make our altars reek with blood of sheep and cattle, poured out for the gods, and with trophies of victory in front of our shrines - breastplates and helmets that once our enemy wore, spear-shattered now - to adorn these holy homes! May your prayers be such, women, to the gods - away with your urge to lament! [280] Away with cries wild and pointless! They will be of no avail against the fate that is to come! But I will be back, returning with six chosen men, myself the seventh. I will confront the enemy in the grand style of a poised war, stationing them at the sevenfold gates. This I will do [285] even before the alert and clear-voiced battle-scouts hasten here to inflame our counsel with the need for action.

Chorus

strophe 1

The tune of his words is on my mind, and yet, in its deep darkness, my heart’s fear can find no sleep! Melodies of worry come right next to my heart, enkindling fears beyond control, [290] foretelling what doom may descend from the great host of warriors surrounding our walls. So too a poor dove trembles for fear of snakes [drakôn pl.] that threaten her helpless nestlings. [295] The enemy is massing, in full force. They slither toward the towers. What is to become of me? They climb and throng, and we are hemmed in. [300] On the guardians of our city a shower of missiles comes hurtling down! O gods born of Zeus! I pray, in any way you can, rescue the city and army of Cadmus!

antistrophe 1

What nobler land shall ever be yours, [305] if you hand over to the enemy the deep rich soil, and Dirce’s spring, [310] the nursing stream that Poseidon gave, and the children of Tethys? Arise and save us! [315] Inflict derangement [atê] on the ranks that surround us. Make them fling their arms on the ground in terror and die in carnage! Give glory [kudos] to these your citizens. [320] Come, heeding our piercing cries of lament [gooi], and take your stand as enthroned guardians of our land!

strophe 2

What a sorrow and a pity it will be if this primordial city should sink to be slave of the spear, to dust and to ashes gone down - at the hands of Achaean men and through the will of the gods. [325] I see a city destroyed and defiled and losing its honor [timê], with its women becoming the prize of the battle. I see them being pulled by the locks of their hair - ee! ee! - young and old women alike, as if they were war-horses held by the mane. Their veils are all ripped and torn. [330] The whole city screams as one, emptied of its population. Then I hear the scream refracted into many different voices of lament, the manifold wail of despair. I shake as I foresee the doom that is to be.

antistrophe 2

For a woe and a weeping it is, [335] if the inviolate flower of maidenhood is ripped savagely by the enemy in his might, not culled in the bridal garden! Alas for the hate and the horror! How to say it? Less hateful by far is the doom to be slain by the sword, cut down in the carnage of war! For many - ee! ee! - many are the sorrows when the enemy has mounted the wall. [340] There is confusion and terror and flame, and the dark smoke broods over all. Wild is the war-god’s breath, as in frenzy of conquest he rushes ahead and pollutes with the blast of his breath the reverence of things most holy.

strophe 3

[345] Up to the citadel rise the clash and the din of battle. The dragnet of war is closing in, and the spear is in the heart. Drenched in blood, young mothers wail aloud for children at their breast [350] who scream and die! Young boys and girls flee, but they escape not the pursuer. In his greed he thrusts and grasps and feeds. As the looting goes on, each looter invites the others to the feast of hate. [355] And now the banquet is ready: seize, rend, and tear! I have the words that picture what happens after this.

antistrophe 3

And all the vegetation of earth is wasted, tossed to the ground - a vision hateful to all! The grieving wives see it all heaped up and gone to ruin. [360] Earth’s gifts are spoiled and exhausted, and they waste away to nothingness. And you, grieving young maidens, you are handed over - fresh horror at your hearts - to the power of those who cut down the blossoms! [365] You are now captive slaves of your ravishers, and the night brings rites [telos] that you abhor. Woe, woe for you. After all your grief and sorrow, there is now more to come.

But look, my dear [philai] companions! The scout, who had departed from here to observe the enemy, [370] comes back with news, on swift feet. And, on the other side, the child of Oedipus is here as well. It all fits together, like the parts of a chariot. He wants to learn the spy’s report. His heart is even more eager than his foot is swift!

Scout

[375] I have scanned the enemy well, and well can I say to which chief, by lot, each gate is assigned. Tydeus, with his battle-cry, is already thundering at the gate of Proetus. But the seer [mantis = Amphiaraos] restrains him, not letting him cross the stream of Ismenus, since the sacrifices are not turning out well. [380] But Tydeus, mad with lust of blood and battle, makes noontime thunder as he roars like a dragon [drakôn]. He hits, with the language of insult [oneidos], the prophet-son of Oikles [= Amphiaraos]: "You are skilled [sophos], he tells him, but you appease War with your lack of life-spirit [psukhê], as you hold back from death!" Such vituperation he shouts, making the triple plumes that float overshadowing his helmet blow in the wind like the mane of a war-horse. [385] Around the rim of his shield, with terror in their tone, clang and reverberate the bronze bells. Right on the shield he has this proud sign [sêma]: it is the sky, inlaid with blazing stars. At the center, the bright moon glows at full, the eye of night, [390] the first and lordliest star. With his high-boasting armor, madly bold, he clamors by the stream-bank, wild for war, like a war-horse panting grimly on his bit, held in and chafing for the trumpet’s blast! Whom will you set against him? [395] When the gate of Proetus yields, who can repel his rushing onslaught?

Eteocles

To me, no adornment [kosmos] on an enemy’s shield will ever present a fear! Such signs [sêma pl.] cannot make wounds. His plumes and bells, without a spear, cannot sting like a snake. [400] And this night that you say is on his shield, reaching the sky, ablaze with stars: as a seer [mantis] explaining itself, it is a thing without sense [noos]. For, if night falls upon his eyes in death, that high-boasting sign [sêma] of his [405] will prove its own truth. With the arts of a seer [mantis] he will verify his own insolence [hubris]. I will set against his power the loyal son of Astacus [= Melanippos] as guard of the gate. He is noble and gives honor [timê] to the throne of Respect [aiskhunê]. He loathes the speech of arrogance and always avoids what is shameful. That is the only thing he fears, because the absence of cowardice is dear [philon] to him. His roots go back to those warriors whom Ares spared, the men called Sown [= Spartoi]. He is truly a native son of the Earth, and he is Melanippos. What he will do today depends on the dice of Ares. [415] But his cause has the sanction of Justice [Dikê], who urges him on to guard, as son, his motherland from wrong.

Chorus

Then may the gods give good fortune to our champion, sent forth with justice [dikê] to dare war’s terrible arbitration! But ah! when our fighters go off like this, I shudder [420] that I will see only their blood-stained remains at their return.

Scout

So let him go off, then, and may the gods’ help be his! Next, Capaneus comes on, by lot to lead the attack at the gate named after Electra. He is a giant [gigas] more huge even than Tydeus, [425] and more than human in his boasting. May fate prevent his threat against our walls! "If the god willing, or even if he is unwilling" - such his boast - "I will destroy this city. Even if the daughter of Zeus [= Athena] swoops down to earth and stands in my path, she will not withstand me." [430] As for the flashes of lightning and the stroke of the thunderbolt, he compares them to mere noontime rays. He has on his shield as a sign [sêma] a naked man bearing fire, and the flame of his torch flares within his grasp, prepared for violence. And there are letters of gold on it, sounding out these words "I will burn the city." [435] Whom will you send out to stand up to such a man? What man will face that boasting figure and not tremble?

Eteocles

There is a gain [kerdos] here, added to another gain [kerdos]! A boast that is false will be good for us, because it will be refuted by a tongue that is true [alêthês]. [440] Capaneus threatens, with all his equipment. He defies the gods and exercises his mouth in frenzied ecstasy as he sends forth toward the sky, though he is mortal, storming words that shout at Zeus. I am confident that the fire-bearing thunderbolt, with justice [dikê], [445] will come down on him in real life, not in a picture, during the noontime heatstrokes of the sun. Against his boasts, with their reckless mouthings, has been stationed a man of strength [bia] who is burning [aithôn] with his willpower [lêma]: he is Polyphontes, a sturdy fortress, [450] through the good intentions [noos] of Artemis and the other gods. Now, tell me, who got the next gate in the lottery?

Chorus

May he perish, whoever boasts [ep-eukhomai] big things against our city. May the thunderbolt stop him before he mounts my house, [455] driving with his over-boasting spear the she-ponies from their stables!

Scout

I continue what I have to say. Eteoclus got the third place in the lottery of the inverted helmet’s brazen rim. [460] He and his company are arrayed against the Neistae gate. He drives his chariot-mares around, who chafe at their headbands, eager to charge at the gates. Snorting the full breath of arrogance, their nostrils whistle with barbaric sound. [456] There is nothing humble about the workmanship of his shield: on it is a man fully armed who climbs, from rung to rung, a scaling ladder, up a hostile tower, seeking to destroy and slay. And he roars with the syllables of the letters on his shield, shouting that even Ares cannot cast him down from the wall. [470] Send against this man a man strong enough to prevent the slave’s yoke from our city.

Eteocles

I will indeed send such a man. And may good fortune be ours. So, as you see, he is being sent off, with our own words of self-praise safely in his hands. He is Megareus, the seed of Creon, descended from those who were sown [Spartoi] in the Earth. [475] He will not shrink from guarding the gates, nor fear the maddened horses’ frenzied neigh. If he dies, he will have nobly repaid his debt for nurture to the Earth that gave him birth. Otherwise, he will cut two warriors down - both Eteoclus and the figure that he carries around on his shield. He will capture those two and also the city that is pictured, all in one, and these war-prizes he will offer as an adornment [kosmos] for the house of his father. [480] Announce the next one, and do not be sparing with what you tell me.

Chorus

So now I pray [ep-eukhomai], oh, I do, that you have good fortune, you champion of my home, and that they have bad fortune.

With raving heart [phrên] they fling forth over-boasting provocations. [485] May Zeus the lord of sanctions [nemesis] look at them in anger [kotos].

Scout

Next, at the gate of Athena Onkâ, stands a fourth man roaring. It is the figure [skhêma] of Hippomedon! What a mighty imprint [tupos]! [490] I shuddered, I won’t deny it, as I looked at the huge disk - I am talking about the circle that is the shield. No cheap craftsman of signs [sêma] is he who made that work of art on that shield! The figure is the Typhon: from his flame-breathing mouth he emits lurid smoke, the multicolor sister of fire. The flattened edgework, going round the whole in a circle [kuklos], makes strong support [495] for coiling snakes that grow erect above the concave of the shield. Loud rang the warrior’s voice with shouts of "alala." He is in an altered state, having the god inside him, and that god is Ares. Responding to this own martial strength, he goes into the mode of Bacchus and becomes like a female possessed [thuias], with looks that frighten. One has to be very much on guard in challenging this man. He is already there at the gates, boasting. He is Terror in the flesh.

Eteocles

Our goddess Pallas Onkâ [= Athena], guardian of the city, planting her foot firmly by her gate, will repel the insolence [hubris] of this man. It is like repelling the snake [drakôn] of a bad storm, to protect the young birds in the nest. [505] Stationed against this man is the man Hyperbius, the gallant son of Oenops. He is chosen to confront this antagonist, ready to seek his fate in a crisis of fortune [tukhê]. In form, in heart [thumos], and in skill of arms, he is faultless. It makes sense that Hermes has matched these two. [510] Confronted shall they stand, the shield of each bearing the image of opposing gods: one man holds aloft his Typhon, breathing fire, while on the other’s shield is seated Zeus, calm and strong, aflame with a bolt in his hand - Zeus, seen by all, and never yet seen to fail! [515] Surely humans are parallel to gods [daimones]: we are on the side of the winners and the enemy, on the side of the defeated. Zeus against Typhon held the upper hand, and if things match up with the signs [sêma], then [520] Hyperbius will have Zeus as savior [sôtêr], since he has him on his shield.

Chorus

I am confident that he who is not near and dear, having the figure of a chthonic god [daimôn] as an anti-imprint [anti-tupos] for Zeus on his shield, [525] will shatter his skull in front of the gate.

Scout

May it happen this way! Now I say the fifth man, set against our fifth man, at the Northern, gate, right in front of the tomb of Amphion the son of Zeus. This antagonist swears by the point of his spear, [530] which he worships instead of a god and values more than his own eyes. His oath is this: he solemnly swears to capture by force [bia] the citadel of the Cadmeans. This he declares, the pretty-faced seedling of Ares and of a mountain nymph for a mother, a manchild of a man. He goes around with fuzz newly grown on his cheek. [535] His seasonal time [hôra] is in blossom, and his body hairs are starting to grow thick and fast. He is savage, however, in his thoughts [phronêma], presenting a fierce look that does not match his maidenly name. Not without boasting does he take his stand at the gate. [540] On that round brazen shield of his, that projection [problêma] of the human body in the shape of a circle [kuklos], is the Sphinx, infamy [oneidos] of our city, whose meal is raw human flesh. She is figured in high relief, clamped on the shield, and thus he carries her gleaming body as a weapon. And in her claws she has seized a man from the ranks of the people of Cadmus, and in this way he [= Parthenopaeus] carries him around as well. This is the man that gets hit most of the time when they shoot missiles at the shield. [545] So our antagonist is here, a big retailer in war: he is ready to make good trades of death for life, in fierce exchange for his long wayfaring. He is Parthenopaeus of Arcadia, a resident alien in Argos, who is paying back that city for having nurtured him so beautifully. Just take a look at him! There he is, making threats against our towers. May the god refuse bring his words to reality.

Eteocles

[550] May they meet the doom they hope to bring - they and their impious boasts - from those on high! So should they sink, hurled down to deepest death! This antagonist, whom you describe as Arcadian, is faced by one who does not boast. His hand is the true witness to what he really does. [555] He is Aktor, brother of the man named before [= Hyperbius]. He will not let a boast without a blow to stream through our gates and nourish our despair. Nor will he give way to the one who bears on his hostile shield the savage picture of the loathsome beast [= the Sphinx]. [560] Blocked at the gate, she [= the Sphinx] will blame the man who strives to thrust her forward, when she feels the crash of blows thick and fast, up to the city wall. With the will of the gods, I say things that will be true [alêthea].

Chorus

Straight to my heart the boasting goes, and, quick with terror, on my head rises my hair, [565] at the sound of those who wildly, impiously rave! If the gods are really gods, to them I pray: destroy them as they stand on this earth.

Scout

I would now say who is the sixth man. He is more self-controlled [sôphrôn]. He is the best in might [alkê], a seer. He is the powerful force, Amphiaraos. He is stationed at the gate Homoloides. He berates powerful Tydeus with reviling words - that killer of men, that man who storms the city - as the biggest teacher of evil things for Argos, as the one who evokes the Fury [Erinys], the attendant of violent death, [575] the planner of all these bad things for Adrastus. Yes, and with eyes upturned and an expression full of scorn, he blames your brother Polyneices, assigning to his name a two-way outcome [teleutê] as he calls out to him: [580] "It [= the name] tells of such a deed, one so dear to the gods, so beautiful to hear and for later generations to retell! And what is this story? That he [= Polyneices] was seeking to destroy the city of his fathers and the temples of its gods, and brought against it an alien army of foreign enemies. What judgment [dikê] can stop the fountain of maternal blood as it gushes forth? [585] How will your fatherland, once it is stormed by your ardent malice and destroyed, ever again join forces with you?" As for me, I know it is my destiny to have my blood enrich this earth - blood of a seer in the earth of the enemy. Now, let us go forth to the battle! This destiny, it is my hope, is not without honor [timê]." [590] Such things the seer [mantis] spoke in serenity, holding up his shield all made of bronze. There was no sign [sêma] in the middle of the circle [kuklos]. That is because he wants not to seem to be the best but to be the very best. And through the power of his mind [phrên] he reaps the harvest from a deep rich furrow that makes cherished thoughts of good counsel grow and flourish. [595] Against this man I advise [ep-aineô] that you send the most skilled [sophos] and noble of opponents. Formidable is he who reverences the gods.

Eteocles

Alas for the bird of omens that matches mortal men, linking the just [dikaios] and the impious in one! [600] In everything that happens, there is nothing worse than this: companionship with men of evil heart. It is a baneful harvest. Let no one gather it.

The field of derangement [atê] produces death. Sometimes a pious man who goes aboard a ship with hot-headed sailors, a crew of evildoers, will perish along with their evil company, spat out by the gods. [605] Or a man who is just [dikaios], consorting with those who are hostile to guest-strangers [xenoi] and unmindful of the gods, is destroyed unfairly [= beyond dikê], as if he were one with them. Caught in their company, he is struck by the god’s whip that extends to them all. So also the seer [mantis] - I speak of the son of Oikles - [610] the moderate [sôphrôn] and just [dikaios] and noble and pious man, the great spokesman [prophêtês] of omens, was found in the company of unholy men, men who were too boastful to be wise! Long is their journey, and they return home no more. He will be dragged down along with them, since Zeus wishes it so. [615] He will not, so I sense, assail the gate - not because of lack of heart [thumos] or failure of willpower [lêma] but because he knows to what end [teleutê] their struggle in battle will lead, if indeed the harvest of fulfillment will come in the prophetic words of Loxias [= Apollo]. It is dear to him to keep his silence rather than speak things that hit the mark. [620] Nevertheless, even against him we will station a man, the powerful Lasthenes, as guardian of the gate. He is hostile to strangers, an old man in his thinking [noos]. But he has the flesh of a young man in the prime [hêbê] of his bloom, and an eye that is matched in swiftness by his feet. Quick too is his hand, to attack the spot unprotected between shield and spear. [625] But the good fortune of mortals is a gift of the god.

Chorus

Hear, you gods, our just [dikaiai] entreaties! Save, save the city! Turn away the spear. Send fear against the enemy! Let them fall out of the towers, [630] struck by the thunderbolt of Zeus.

Scout

Last, let me say who is the seventh man stationed at the seventh gate. It is your very own brother. Hear how he curses [âraomai] and imprecates [kat-eukhomai] against the city’s fortunes [tukhê]. He boasts that he will mount the towers from which he had been banished and will shout all over the land [635] the wild exulting cry of victory - "the city is taken!" Then he will clash his sword with yours, giving and taking death in close embrace. Or, if you escape, you will cast upon yourself, robber of his honor and his home, the doom of exile such as he has borne. [640] So he shouts, invoking the gods who guard the lineage and the fatherland, as observers of the cursing entreaties that produce the force who is Polyneices in person. He has a newly-made shield, in the shape of a beautiful circle [kuklos]. The workmanship on it is a twofold sign [sêma]. [645] You can see a woman [gunê] who is leading, in a way that is self-controlled [sôphrôn], the figure of a warrior made of gold. "So, now you see, it is the goddess Justice [Dikê]," he declares: "just as the letters on the shield tell you: ‘I will restore this man to power, and he will possess the city, having the right to come and go as he pleases in the halls of his ancestors.’" Such are the words of invention coming out of those letters. [650] Now you must know whom to send against this last opponent. I have spoken - and you cannot find a flaw in my reporting. Now you must know how to steer the ship of the city.

Eteocles

Oh that man, driven mad by the gods! O great abomination of the gods! And woe for us, the lamentable line of Oedipus. [655] Oimoi! Alas, that in this house our father’s curses [ârai] must now find fulfillment [telos]! But it is forbidden to weep and wail. I do not want the birth of an even stronger lament [goos], hard to bear. As for this Polyneices, named all too well, soon we will know how these signs [epi-sêma] on the shield will have their fulfillment [telos]. [660] We will see whether the gold-made signs [sêma pl.] on his shield, in their mad boasting and derangement of the senses, will restore him to power in his home! For if Justice [Dikê], the maiden daughter of Zeus, had stood by his deeds and thoughts, then perhaps this could have been! Yet never, from the day he reached the light, fleeing of the darkness [skotos] of his mother’s womb, [665] never in childhood, nor in youthful prime, nor when his chin was gathering its beard, has the goddess Justice [Dikê] looked upon him and claimed him as her own. Therefore I do not think that she stands ready now to aid him in this outrage on his home! [670] Falsely named, in all justice [dikê], would be the goddess Justice [Dikê], utterly, if she had intercourse with a man who is all-daring in his thoughts. Confident in these things, I will myself go forth and match me with him; who has a claim more just [en-dikos]? Ruler against ruler, brother against brother, [675] enemy against enemy, I will take my stand. Somebody quickly bring my greaves, my spear, my protection against flying missiles.

Leader of the Chorus

O most near and dear [philos] of men, child of Oedipus, do not become, in your anger, like the man whose name makes the sound of a most evil omen! [680] It is enough that Cadmus’ people battle hand-to-hand with the Argive host of warriors, for there is blood that can purge that stain! But when brother deals death upon brother, not even time itself can expiate the pollution [miasma].

Eteocles

If somebody can put up with a very bad thing without incurring disgrace [aiskhunê], let it be. Honor is the only advantage [kerdos] that the dead can have, nothing else. [685] You cannot tell me that bad and disgraceful things combined can bring any words of good praise [kleos].

Chorus

What is your raving desire, my child? Do not be carried away by the lust and derangement [atê] of the spear. Throw away the beginning of an evil passion [erôs].

Eteocles

No, since the god presses ahead for our doom, let the house of Laius, loathed and scorned by Phoebus [= Apollo], [690] follow the wind of its destiny, and win its great inheritance, the troubled waters of Cocytus [= Wailing].

Chorus

Savage is your craving - craving for kindred and forbidden blood to be outpoured. It is a corrupt sacrifice, a bitter harvest of murderous enmities!

Eteocles

[695] My own dear [philos] father’s fateful curse [ârâ] proclaims - a ghastly presence as it comes to roost, and her eyes are dry -

"The taking of advantage comes before the doom that comes thereafter."

Chorus

Do not be urged on by her [= the curse incarnate]! No one will dare to call you a coward, since you have ordered your life well. [700] The Fury [Erinys] with her black aegis will go out from these halls, once the gods welcome a votive offering from your hands.

Eteocles

The gods! I think the gods have already stopped being mindful of me. A thing of wonder it is, this kharis [= a beautiful and pleasurable state of give and take] that comes from me, the doomed one. Why should I any longer try to appease a destiny of destruction?

Chorus

But wait for the moment when it stands in front of you! [705] For the daimôn may be deflected from its will [lêma] with a changing gust of milder mood, tempering its blast. But now it is still seething.

Eteocles

Yes, the curses [kat-eugmata] of Oedipus made it boil over. [710] All too true [alêtheis] are the visions of phantasms coming out of my dreams - visions of dividing up the property of our father!

Chorus

Obey the women, though you feel no closeness to them.

Eteocles

Say anything that may lead to some success, but be sparing with your words.

Chorus

Do not go forth to guard the seventh gate!

Eteocles

[715] Words shall not blunt the edge of my resolve.

Chorus

Yet the god can give honor [timê] even to a victory that is base.

Eteocles

That is a saying [epos] not welcome to a man of armor.

Chorus

Shall your own brother’s blood be the flowers that you pluck for your garland of victory?

Eteocles

You cannot escape the bad things the gods give you.

Chorus

strophe 1

[720] I shudder in dread of the goddess who destroys dynasties. She is not like other gods. She is the all-truthful [pan-alêthês] seer [mantis] of evils, the Fury [Erinys] of a father’s cursing [eukhomai]. [725] She is poised to bring to fulfillment [telos] the curses [kat-ârai], full of passion [thumos], that came from Oedipus, the one whose mind [phrên] was thrown off course. This discord [eris], destroyer of his children, is pressing ahead.

antistrophe 1

And strange is the lord of division, who cleaves the birthright in two - the edged thing, born of the north, [730] the steel that is savage and keen, dividing in bitter division the lot of the children. Not the wide lowland around, the realm of their father, shall they have, yet enough for the dead to inherit, the pitiful space of a grave!

strophe 2

Ah, but when kin meets kin, when father and child, unknowing, [735] are defiled by shedding common blood, and when the pit of death devours it, drinking the clotted blood, the gory dye - Who, who can purify? Who can cleanse pollution, [740] where the ancient bane rises and reeks again?

antistrophe 2

I tell of an ancient transgression, one that brings swift punishment [poinê]. On the children of the child came still new heritage of evil. [745] For thrice Apollo spoke this divine word, from the central shrine of Delphi, to Laius: you must die childless! Only this way can you save [sôzô] the city.

strophe 3

[750] Overpowered by a lack of good counsel concerning things near and dear, he begot Oedipus, the fateful parricide. The sacred seed-plot, his own mother’s womb, he sowed, his house’s doom, [755] a root of blood! Lured by derangement [para-noia], they came unto their wedded shame.

antistrophe 3

And now the swelling surge of fate approaches - one wave sinks and the next, [760] three times as big, towers high and dark above the ship of our city. The towers are this close to falling. If our kings in the storm go down, [765] I am afraid that the city will be destroyed.

strophe 4

Curses [ârai], ancient and portending fulfillment [telos], bring heavy freight of grief: rich stores of merchandise overload the deck.

Near, nearer comes the destruction, [770] and then the wealth [olbos] is all lost for the merchants.

antistrophe 4

Whom did the gods, whom did each citizen in crowded assemblies, [775] hold in such honor as Oedipus, when he freed the countryside from that female blight that preyed on men?

strophe 5

But when, in the fullness of days, the wretch found out about his miserable marriage, [780] he brought to fulfillment [telos] with his own father-killing hand a twofold horror, in the frenzied despair of his heart. He veered from his better judgment. [785] And his tongue cast bitter curses [ârai] on his children for the nourishment they dared to withhold:

antistrophe 5

that they should divide their possessions with iron, not gold, in their hands. [790] And now, a shudder runs through me: I fear that the Fury [Erinys] will trace back her steps and bring these things to fulfillment [telos].

Scout

Be of courage, you daughters nourished on mothers’ milk. Behold! Our city stands, saved from the yoke of slavery: the boasts of overweening men are silent now, [795] and the city-state sails beneath a bright sky, nor did it get flooded by a single wave. Solid stand the towers, and the gates are made secure, each with a single champion’s trusty protection. At six of the gates we hold a victory assured. [800] But, at the seventh, the god that on the seventh day was born, lord Apollo, has taken up his position, bringing to the house of Oedipus the fulfillment for the ancient errors committed by Laius.

Chorus

What further grief besets our city?

Scout

The city stands safe - but oh, the two princes...

[805] ...are dead, self-killed by each others’ hands.

Chorus

Who? What did you say? I am distraught with fear.

Scout

Hear now, and this time think! The sons of Oedipus...

Chorus

Ah, I feel I am a seer [mantis] of their doom.

Scout

There are no two ways about it. They are destroyed.

Chorus

[810] Are they lying dead out there? Tell the full horror.

Scout

Did hands meet hands more close than brotherly? The daimôn came in common to each, blotting out the lineage ill-starred! Now mix your exultation and your tears, [815] over a city saved, while its lords, twin leaders of the fight, have parceled out with arbitration forged by Scythian steel the full division of their fatherland, and, as their father’s curse [eukhê] required, shall have their due of land, a twofold grave. [820] So is the city saved; the earth has drunk blood of twin princes, by each other slain.

Chorus

O mighty Zeus and guardian gods [daimones], the strength and support of Cadmus’ towers! [825] Shall I send forth a joyous cry, hail to the lord of good fortune renewed? Or weep the misbegotten pair, born to a fatal destiny, each numbered now among the slain, each dying in ill fortitude, [830] both truly named [eteo-klês pl.], both men of many quarrels [polu-neikês pl.]? O dark and all-prevailing curse [ârâ], that broods over Oedipus and all his line, numbing my heart with mortal chill! Ah me, like a frenzied [thuias] female devotee of Bacchus, [835] I put together for the tomb this song [melos] of mine, which only tells of doom. Dead are they, dead! In their own blood they lie. Ill-omened the song that hails our victory! [840] The words of the father who cursed [eukhomai] his children have faltered not, nor failed! Nothing, Laius, did your stubborn choice accomplish - first to beget the child and then, in the afterday and for the city’s sake, to kill him. For nothing can blunt nor mar the words of the oracle. [845] Children! By disbelief you erred - yet in wild weeping came fulfillment! These things are evident of themselves. The speech of the messenger is fitting. A twofold sorrow, twofold strife of brothers - each brave! [850] In double doom did these sorrows [pathos pl.] reach fulfillment [telos]. How shall I speak it? Alas, my sisters! May your laments [goos pl.] be the wind for sailing, [855] may the smiting of your brows with your hands become the plash of oars, bringing the boat to Acheron’s dim shores. It passes always, with its darkened sail, on its uncharted voyage and sunless way, far from your beams, Apollo, god of light - that melancholy boat, [860] bound for a landing that is common to all, the harbor of the dark!

Look up, look there! From the palace come Antigone and Ismene, on their last, saddest errand, to sing a lament [thrênos] of doleful sound, with agony of equal pain over their slain brothers. [865] Their sisterly sobs are swelling, heart with rent heart according well in grief for those who fought and died. Yet, before they utter their grief, we must sing the sinister-sounding song [humnos] of the Fury [Erinys] and afterwards the hateful victory-song of Hades.

[870] O you most bereaved of sisters, of all those who tie cinctures around their dresses! I weep and I mourn. There is no deceitful pretending in my mind [phrên] that I sing truly my song of lament.

[875] Oh, you sad men! You were unpersuaded by those who were near and dear [philoi]. You were not worn down by all the misfortunes. Wretches, you seized your ancestral homes, and it required strength [alkê].

[880] Alas for the home and heritage. They brought a baneful doom, and death for wage! One was striving to force his way through tottering walls, while the other claimed, in bitter arrogance, the rule. Both alike, even now and here, have concluded their pursuit, with steel for arbiter! [885] And behold, Our Lady the Fury [Erinys] of Oedipus, their father, has brought his curse to an accomplishment that is all too true [alêthês]. Each was struck on the left side - see them there lying dead - the children of one womb, slain by a mutual doom. Alas for their fate! the murderous combat, the horror of the house, the curse [ârâ pl.] of ancient bloodshed, now repaid! [895] Yes, deep and to the heart the deathblow fell, edged by their feud ineffable - by the grim curse, their sire did imprecate discord and deadly hate! [900] Listen, how the city and its towers lament - how the Earth mourns that held them for its own! Their possessions await their successors. The were dreaded in dividing things among themselves, [905] which led to their quarrel [neikos] and the final outcome [telos] of their death. They strove to part the heritage in two halves, giving to each a gain. Yet that which struck the balance in the strife, the arbitrating sword, is hateful to those who loved the two. [910] Without gratification [kharis] is Ares, who severed each from life.

Look, here they lie, by the stroke of steel. And rightly may one say: beside their fathers, let them be laid here. Iron gave their doom, with iron let their graves be made. [915] Alas, a piercing song of lament [goos], a rending groan, a cry of sorrow unfeigned, heartfelt! With shuddering of grief, with tears that start, with wailful escort, let them come here - for one or the other make divided lament! [920] Over the dead princes, brothers, we sing no light lament of pity mixed with gladness, but with true tears, poured from a sad soul. Against citizen, against foreign enemies, brave was their onslaught, and stern their blow. Now they are cut down. [925] Beyond all women upon earth woe, woe for her who gave them birth. Unknowingly, she married her son, and the children of that marriage-bed each grew in the selfsame womb. Now, each of the two by his brother’s hand lies dead

Yes, from one seed they sprang, and by one fate their heritage is desolate. [935] The heart’s division sundered claim from claim, in frenzied strife [eris], and death came from their feud [neikos]. Now their hate has been laid to rest, and their life-stream has been poured out, staining with blood the earth with crimson dye. [940] Behold, from one blood they sprang, and now they are lying in one blood.

A grievous arbiter of quarrels [neikos pl.] was given the two of them - the stranger from the North, the sharp, dividing sword, fresh from the forge and fire. [945] The treacherous Ares gave then an evil award and brought their father’s curse [ârâ] to a true [alêthês] realization. They have their portion - each his lot of grief [akhos], given from the gods on high. [950] Yes, the piled-up wealth of the fatherland, for their tomb, shall lie underneath them. Alas, alas! with flowers of fame your home you proudly glorified, but, in the end, the Curses [ârai] gathered round [955] With foreboding chants shrieking, in wild defeat and disarray. And now, behold, you are dead. The marker of Derangement [atê] stands at the gate. [960] There the daimôn observed the brothers’ fall then finally his activity came to an end.

By striking you were struck. You killed - and were killed - by the spear of each other, and now you lie on the ground. Savage were the deeds that you did, and savage was death for both of you

Take voice, O my sorrow! Flow tear upon tear. Lay the slain by the slayer. They are made one as they lie there. [965] My mind goes mad with laments [goos pl.], and we mourn over the prey of the spear! Ah, woe for your ending, made unbrotherly. And woe for the battle that you fought. The doom of a mutual slaughter brought you to your grave. Ah, twofold the sorrow - the heard and the seen! And double the tide of our tears as we stand by our brothers in death and wail for our love. O grievous the fate that follows the wrong that was done.

O Destiny, Our Lady the shade [skia] of Oedipus, your vengeance is severe! You are the dark Fury [Erinys], and your power is great.

O dark were the sorrows that exile has known! He slew, but returned not alive. He struck down a brother, but fell, cut down in the moment of triumph. O lineage accursed, O doom and despair! Alas, for their quarrel. And woe! for their pitiful end, who once were our love

O grievous the fate that follows the wrong that was done.

O Destiny, Our Lady the shade [skia] of Oedipus, your vengeance is severe! You are the dark Fury [Erinys], and your power is great.

By proof have you learned it! At once and as one, O brothers beloved, you were consigned to death. You came to the strife of the sword, and behold! you are both overthrown!

O grievous the tale is, and grievous their fall, to the house, to the land, and to me. Ah, gods! I regret the curse and the derangement!

O children distraught, killed in your madness! Shall you rest with old kings in your abodes? Alas for the wrath of your father if he finds you laid by his side!

Herald

[1005] I bear the command to tell to one and all what has been approved and is now law, ruled by the counselors of the city of Cadmus. For this Eteocles, it is resolved lay him on his earth-bed, in this soil, not without care and kindly burial. Why because he hated those who hated us, [1010] and, with all duties blamelessly performed according to the sacred ritual of his ancestors, he met such an end as gains our city’s gratitude - with auspices that ennoble death. Such words I have in charge to speak of him. But of his brother Polyneices, this: that he be cast out unburied, for the dogs [1015] to rend and tear: for he presumed to destroy the land of the Cadmeans, had it not been for the gods of our ancestors, who aid our fatherland and opposed his attack, by way of his brother’s spear, to whom, though dead, shall consecration come! Against him stood this wretch, and brought a horde of foreign enemy, to besiege our city. He therefore shall receive his recompense, [1020] buried ignobly in the stomachs of birds - no women-wailers to escort his corpse, nor build his tomb nor sing his lament anew - dishonored, unattended, cast away. [1025] Thus for these brothers, does our State ordain.

Antigone

And I - to those who make such claims of rule in the city of Cadmus - I, though no other help, I will bury this my brother’s corpse and risk your wrath and what may come of it! [1030] It shames me not to face the State, and set my will against power, rebellion resolute: deep in my heart is set my sisterhood, my common birthright with my brothers, born all of one womb, her children who, for woe, brought forth sad offspring to a father ill-starred. Therefore, O my soul [psukhê]! take your willing share, in aid of him who now can will no more, against this outrage: be a sister true[1035] while you still live, to a brother dead! Him never shall the wolves with their ravening stomachs tear and devour: I do forbid the thought! I for him, I - though a weak woman [gunê] - in place of burial-pit, will give him rest by this protecting handful of light dust which, in the lap of this poor linen robe, [1040] I bear to make holly and bestrew his corpse with the due covering. Let no one contradict! Courage and craft shall arm me to do this.

Herald

I charge you not to flout the city’s law!

Antigone

I charge not to use useless heralding!

Herald

Stern are a people newly escaped from death.

Antigone

[1045] Go ahead and whet their sternness! Burial he shall have.

Herald

What? Grace of burial, to the city’s enemy?

Antigone

The god has not judged him separate in guilt.

Herald

True - till he put this land in jeopardy.

Antigone

His rights usurped, he answered wrong with wrong.

Herald

[1050] No, but for one man’s error he raised his hand against the State.

Antigone

The goddess Contention does out-talk all other gods!

Prattle on no more: I will to bury him.

Herald

Go ahead and try to have a will of your own. But I forbid the deed.

Chorus

[1055] Exulting Fates and Furies [Erinyes], who waste the lineage and overwhelm the house of Oedipus! Fiends, who have slain, in wrath, the father and the children thus! What now is fitting that I do, what to meditate, what to suffer? Can I refrain from the funeral rite, nor weep for Polyneices slain?

[1060] And yet, with fear I shrink back, foreseeing the city’s will [lêma]! You, O Eteocles, shall have full rites, and mourners at your grave. But he, your killed brother, shall he, with none to weep or sing laments [goos], pass to a hostile burial, mourned only by one sister? Who can obey such stern decree?

[1065] Let those who control our city work or choose not to work their will [lêma] concerning those who sing their grief, lamenting Polyneices. We will go forth and, side by side with her, provide due burial. [1070] Royal he was; let him be paid our grief [akhos].

The crowd may sway and change about what is just [dikaia]. But we will carry this dead Eteocles, as Justice [Dikê] wills, to his grave. For - under those enthroned on high and Zeus’ eternal royalty - [1075] he protected our city of the Cadmeans from destruction! He saved us from a foreign yoke, wild assault of aliens, a savage, alien wave.