The Lyrical Dramas of Aeschylus by Aeschylus

Author:Aeschylus [Aeschylus]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Drama
Publisher: Jazzybee Verlag
Published: 2016-10-16T00:00:00+00:00

THE SEVEN AGAINST THEBES

Eteocles.

Ye citizens of Cadmus! he who sits

Holding the helm in the high poop of state,

Watchful, with sleepless eyes, must, when he speaks,

Speak words that suit the time. If we succeed,

The gods will have the praise; but should we fail

(Which may averting Jove from me avert, Endnote A001

And from this Theban city!), I alone

Must bear the up-heaped murmurings of the whole,

A motley-voiced lament. Ye men of Thebes,

Not manhood’s vigour only, but ye also

Who lack ripe years, and ye whose green old age

Nurses unwithered strength, Endnote 175 arm, and redeem

Your country’s honor from a cruel blot.

Let not the citadel of your ancient sires,

The altars of your native gods, your children,

Nor the dear mother Earth, that nursed you, blame

The slackness of your love—the nurse who bore

Your creeping childhood on her fostering soil,

And through your slow growth up to firmer years,

Toiled that the strong arms of her faithful sons,

Might shield her need. Up to this hour the god

Inclines to us; though close hedged in by the foe,

The vantage hath been ours. But now the seer,

The shepherd of prophetic birds’ revolving

In his ear and inward sense deep-pondered truths, Endnote A002

By no false art, though without help from fire,

Even he soothsaying sings that the Argive camp

Holds midnight council to attack the city.

Therefore be ready; mount the battlements;

Top every tower; crown every parapet;

Fence every gate with valiant-hearted men,

Well harnessed for the fight: and never fear

This trooping alien foe. The gods will give

A happy issue. Myself have sent out scouts,

Sure men, not wont to linger. Their advice

Shall shield us from surprise.

Enter Messenger.

Mess.

Eteocles,

Most excellent lord of Thebes! what I have seen

With mine own eyes, no idle unvouched tale,

I bring thee from the camp Seven warlike chiefs

I saw, in solemn sacrifice assembled:

Holding the head of the devoted ox,

Over the shield with iron rimmed they dipped

Their hands in the steaming blood, and swore an oath,

By Mars, Enýo, and blood-loving Terror, Endnote A003

Either to raze the walls of Thebes, and plunder

The citadel of Cadmus, or else drench

This soil with Argive blood. Then, as for death

Prepared, they decked the chariot of Adrastus Endnote A004

With choice love-tokens to their Argive kin,

Dropping a tear, but with their mouths they gave

No voice. An iron-hearted band are they,

Breathing hot war, like lions when their eye

Looks instant battle. Such my news; nor I

Slow to report; for in the camp I left them

Eager to share among their several bands

Our gates by lot. Therefore, bestir thee; fence

Each gate with the choicest men: dash all delay;

For now the Argive host, near and more near,

All panoplied comes on; the dark-wreathed dust

Rolls, and the snowy foam of snorting chargers

Stains the pure Theban soil. Like a wise pilot

That scents the coming gale, hold thou the city

Tight, ere the storm of Ares on our heads

Burst pitiless. Loud the mainland wave is roaring.

This charge be thine: myself, a sleepless spy,

Will bring thee sure word from the hostile camp:

Safe from without, so ye be strong within

[Exit.

Eteocles.

O Jove! O Earth! O Gods that keep the city!

And thou fell Fury of my father’s curse! Endnote 176

Destroy

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