A well-wrought buckler, newly forged, he bears,
With twofold blazon riveted thereon,
For there a woman leads, with sober mien,
A mailed warrior, enchased in gold;
Justice her style, and thus the legend speaks:—
“This man I will restore, and he shall hold
The city and his father’s palace homes.”
Such the devices of the hostile chiefs.
’Tis for thyself to choose whom thou wilt send;
But never shalt thou blame my herald-words.
To guide the rudder of the State be thine!
ETEOCLES
O heaven-demented race
of Oedipus,
My race, tear-fraught,
detested of the gods!
Alas, our father’s
curses now bear fruit.
But it beseems not to
lament or weep,
Lest lamentations sadder
still be born.
For him, too truly Polyneikes
named,—
What his device will
work we soon shall know;
Whether his braggart
words, with madness fraught,
Gold-blazoned on his
shield, shall lead him back.
Hath Justice communed
with, or claimed him hers,
Guided his deeds and
thoughts, this might have been;
But neither when he
fled the darksome womb,
Or in his childhood,
or in youth’s fair prime,
Or when the hair thick
gathered on his chin,
Hath Justice communed
with, or claimed him hers,
Nor in this outrage
on his Fatherland
Deem I she now beside
him deigns to stand.
For Justice would in
sooth belie her name,
Did she with this all-daring
man consort.
In these regards confiding
will I go,
Myself will meet him.
Who with better right?
Brother to brother,
chieftain against chief,
Foeman to foe, I’ll
stand. Quick, bring my spear,
My greaves, and armor,
bulwark against stones.
From Miss Swanwick’s Translation of ‘The Seven Against Thebes.’
THE VISION OF CASSANDRA
CASSANDRA
Phoebus Apollo!
CHORUS
Hark!
The lips at last unlocking.
CASSANDRA
Phoebus! Phoebus!
CHORUS
Well, what of Phoebus,
maiden? though a name
’Tis but disparagement
to call upon
In misery.
CASSANDRA
Apollo! Apollo!
Again!
Oh, the burning arrow
through the brain!
Phoebus Apollo!
Apollo!
CHORUS
Seemingly
Possessed indeed—whether
by—
CASSANDRA
Phoebus! Phoebus!
Through trampled ashes,
blood, and fiery rain,
Over water seething,
and behind the breathing
War-horse in the darkness—till
you rose again,
Took the helm—took
the rein—
CHORUS