LEADER OF THE FIRST HALF-CHORUS

The scout, I believe,

is bringing some fresh news of the army to us, my friends, since the joints of his legs are hastily speeding as they carry him on his mission.

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LEADER OF THE SECOND HALF-CHORUS

And, indeed, here is our lord himself, the son of Oedipus, at the right moment to hear the messenger’s report. Haste makes his stride uneven, too.

Scout

It is with certain knowledge that I will give my account of the enemy’s actions, how each man according to lot has been posted at the gates. Tydeus is already storming opposite the Proetid gates; but the seer will not allow him to ford the Ismenus because the omens from the sacrifices are not favorable.

375

Yet Tydeus, raging and eager for battle, shouts like a serpent hissing at high noon, and lashes skilled Oecles’ son, with the taunt that he cringes in cowardice before death and battle. With such cries he shakes three overshadowing plumes,

380

his helmet’s mane, while from under his shield, bells forged of bronze therein ring out a fearsome clang. He has this haughty symbol on his shield: a well-crafted sky, ablaze with stars, and the brightness of the full moon shining in the center of the shield,

385

the moon that is the most revered of the stars, the eye of night. Raving so in his arrogant armor, he shouts beside the river-bank, craving battle, like some charger that fiercely champs at the bit as he waits in eagerness for the trumpet’s war-cry.

390

Whom will you send against him? Who will be capable of standing as our champion at the Proetid gate when its bars are loosened?

395

Eteocles

I would not tremble before any mere ornaments on a man. Nor can signs and symbols wound and kill—crests and bell have no bite without the spear.

And regarding this "night" which you describe on his shield, sparkling with heaven’s stars—perhaps the folly of it might yield to one some prophetic understanding. For should night fall on this man’s eyes as he dies, then to its bearer this arrogant symbol

400

would prove rightly and justly named; and it is against himself that he will have prophesied this outrageous violence. Now as for me, against Tydeus I will station the trusty son of Astacus as defender of this gate, since he is full noble and

405

reveres the throne of Honor and detests proud speech. He is slow to act disgracefully, and he has no cowardly nature. His race springs from the men sown of the dragon’s teeth, from one of those whom Ares spared, and so Melanippus is truly born of our land. Ares will decide the outcome with a throw of the dice;

410

but Justice, his kin by blood, indeed sends this man forth to keep the enemy spear from the mother that gave him birth. Exit Melanippus.

415

Semi-Chorus

Aye, and in very truth here comes our prince, son of Œdipus, very opportunely for learning the messenger's report,—and haste does not allow him to make equal footsteps

.

Re-enter Messenger and Eteocles from different sides.

Messenger

I would fain tell, for I know them well, the arrangements of our adversaries, and how each has obtained his lot at our gates. Tydeus now for some time has been raging hard by the gate of Prœtus: but the seer allows him not to cross the stream of Ismenus, for the sacrifices are not auspicious. So Tydeus, raving and greedy for the fight, roars like a serpent in its hissings beneath the noontide heat, and he smites the sage seer, son of Oïcleus, with a taunt, [saying] that he is crouching to both Death and Battle out of cowardice. Shouting out such words as these, he shakes there shadowy crests, the hairy honours of his helm, while beneath his buckler bells cast in brass are shrilly pealing terror: on his buckler too he has this arrogant device,—a gleaming sky tricked out with stars, and in the centre of the shield a brilliant full moon is conspicuous, most august of the heavenly bodies, the eye of night. Chafing thus in his vaunting harness, he roars beside the bank of the river, enamoured of conflict, like a steed champing his bit with rage, that rushes forth when he hears the voice of the trumpet

. Whom wilt thou marshal against this [foe]? Who, when the fastenings give way, is fit to be intrusted with the defence of the gate of Prœtus?

Eteocles

At no possible array of a man should I tremble; and blazonry has no power of inflicting wounds, and crests and bell bite not

without the spear. And for this night which thou tellest me is sparkling on his buckler with the stars of heaven, it may perchance be a prophet in conceit

; for if night shall settle on his eyes as he is dying, verily this vaunting device would correctly and justly answer to its name, and he himself will have made the insolence ominous against himself. But against Tydeus will I marshal this wary son of Astacus, as defender of the portals, full nobly born, and one that reverences the throne of Modesty, and detests too haughty language, for he is wont to be slow at base acts, but no dastard. And from the sown heroes whom Mars spared is Melanippus sprung a scion, and he is thoroughly a native. But the event Mars with his dice will decide. And justice, his near kinswoman, makes him her champion

, that he may ward off the foeman's spear from the mother that bare him.

Chorus

LE MESSAGER

Je puis dire — je le sais exactement — ce que font nos ennemis, comment surtout, au choix des portes, chacun a tiré son lot. C'est Tydée qui gronde déjà devant la porte Proitide ; mais le devin l'empêche de franchir l'Isménos, car les victimes restent défavorables. Et

LE MESSAGER

Tydée, tout bouillant, altéré de combats, crie, comme un serpent strident au soleil de midi, et lance l'outrage au devin, fils d'Oïclée, qui « lâchement, cherche à flatter la mort et le combat ». Voilà son langage, cependant qu'il secoue trois aigrettes ombreuses, crinière de son casque,
et que, sous son bouclier, des cloches de bronze sonnent l'épouvante. Sur le bouclier même il porte un blason d'orgueil : un ciel ciselé, resplendissant d'étoiles, où, radieuse, la lune en son plein brille au centre de l'écu,
reine des astres, œil de la nuit. Voilà la démence que trahit l'insolent harnois, tandis qu'il crie sur la berge du fleuve, avide de batailles, pareil au coursier qui, crachant sur son frein sa fureur haletante, attend, tout fumant, l'appel de la
trompette ³ . Qui lui opposeras-tu ? qui donc, à l'heure où la barrière tombera, est qualifié pour assurer la défense de la porte de Proitos ?

ÉTÉOCLE

L'armure d'un guerrier n'a rien qui m'effraie, moi. Il n'est pas de blason qui fasse de blessure ; ni aigrettes ni cloches ne déchirent sans le secours de la
lance. Et quant à cette nuit que tu nous dépeins sur son bouclier, éclatante d'étoiles célestes, je sais quelqu'un pour qui son délire pourrait bien être vrai prophète ! Que cette nuit s'abatte sur ses yeux mourants, et c'est à celui qui le porte que ce blason d'orgueil se trouvera exactement et
strictement s'appliquer : c'est contre lui-même alors qu'il aura rendu cet oracle de démesure ⁴ ! A Tydée j'opposerai, moi, le preux fils d'Astacos pour défenseur de cette porte.
De très noble race, il vénère le trône de l'Honneur et

ÉTÉOCLE

déteste les propos orgueilleux : s'il renâcle aux vilenies, il n'a point pour cela coutume d'être lâche. Il a poussé sur la souche des Fils du Sillon ⁵ et c'est un vrai enfant de la terre thébaine que Mélanippe ! Du combat, les dés d'Arès déci-
deront ; mais c'est vraiment le Droit du sang qui l'envoie en son nom écarter de la terre à qui il doit le jour les lances ennemies.

LE CHŒUR

(Agité.)

Qu'à notre champion le Ciel

SEMICHORUS.

This way, behold, the ſon of Edipus,

The king himſelf advances, preſſing on

His hurried ſtep to learn their newform'd meaſures.

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SOLDIER.

ETEOCLES, SOLDIER, CHORUS.

Now I can tell thee, for I know it well,

The diſpoſition of the foe, and how

Each at our gates takes his allotted poſt.

Already near the Prætian gate in arms

Stands Tydeus raging; for the prophet's voice

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Forbids his foot to paſs Iſmenus' ſtream,

The victims not propitious: at the paſs

Furious, and eager for the fight, the chief,

Fierce as the dragon when the mid-day ſun a

Calls forth his glowing terrors, raves aloud,

405

Reviles the ſage, as forming tim'rous league

With war and fate. Frowning he ſpeaks, and ſhakes

The dark creſt ſtreaming o'er his ſhaded helm

In triple wave; whilſt dreadful ring around

The brazen boſſes of his shield, impreſs'd

410

With this proud argument.

A ſable ſky

Burning with ſtars; and in the midſt fullorb'd

A ſilver moon, the eye of night, o'er all

Aweful in beauty pours her peerleſs light.

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Clad in theſe proud habiliments, he ſtands

Cloſe to the river's margin, and with ſhouts

Demands the war, like an impatient ſteed,

That pants upon the foaming curb, and waits

With firey expectation the known ſignal,

420

Swift at the trumpet's ſound to burſt away.

Before the Prætian gate, its bars remov'd,

What equal chief wilt thou appoint againſt him?

ETEOCLES.

This military pride, it moves not me:

The gorgeous blazonry of arms, the creſt

425

High waving o'er the helm, the roaring boſs,

Harmless without the ſpear, imprint no wound.

The ſable night, ſpangled with golden ſtars,

On his proud ſhield impreſs'd, perchance may prove

A gloomy preſage. Shou'd the ſhades of night

430

Fall on his dying eyes, the boastful charge

May to the bearer be deem'd ominous,

And he the prophet of his own deſtruction.

Againſt his rage the ſon of Aſtacus,

That breathes deliberate valour, at that gate

435

Will I appoint commander; bent on deeds

Of glory, but a votary at the ſhrine

Of modeſty, he ſcorns the arrogant vaunt

As baſe, but bids brave actions ſpeak his worth.

The flow'r of that bold ſtem, which from the ground b

440

Roſe arm'd, and fell not in the deathful fight,

Is Menalippus; him his parent earth

Claims as her own, and in her natural right

Calls him to guard her from the hoſtile ſpear:

But the brave deed the die of war decides.

445

CHORUS.

CORIFEA A

L'esplorator, mi sembra, a noi dal campo

qualche novella, o amiche, reca: in fretta

spinge i mozzi dei pie', che sí lo muovono.

CORIFEA B

Ed in tempo opportuno ecco il signore

405

figlio d'Edípo, a udir ciò ch'ei dirà :

e scompone la fretta anche il suo piede.

Entrano Eteocle e l'esploratore.

ESPLORATORE

Dei nemici dirò, ché ben lo vidi,

quale porta ciascuno ebbe da sorte.

410

Tidèo dinanzi alla porta di Preto

freme di già; ma non consente il vate

che le fluenti dell'Ismeno varchi:

ché non secondi i sacrifici furono.

Furioso Tidèo la lotta agogna,

415

e leva grida sibili di drago

―

a mezzo il giorno e l'indovino saggio

figliuolo d'Oïclèo, batte d'ingiurie,

ch'egli piaggia la morte e la battaglia,

420

per difetto di cuore. Cosí grida:

e tre pennacchi che il cimiero chiomano

e gittano ombra, scuote; e tintinnaboli

di bronzo clangore orrido risuonano

sotto lo scudo; e su lo scudo, questa

425

superba insegna effigïata: un cielo

ardente d'astri; e, fulgida, la luna

piena, chiara, degli astri il piú solenne,

della notte pupilla, in mezzo splende.

Irrequïeto nell'armi superbe,

430

presso la riva del fiume urla, anelo

di pugne, come destrïer che furia

sbuffa contro le redini, e sobbalza,

mentre lo squillo della tromba aspetta.

A questo chi opporrai? Tolte le sbarre,

435

chi garante sarà di questa porta?

ETEOCLE

Mai tremar non mi fanno arnesi adomi,

né fan piaga le insegne; e senza lancia

morder non ponno e ciuffi e tintinnaboli.

E quella notte scintillante d'astri,

440

che, come dici, è su lo scudo, presto

presagio diverrà, tale stoltezza.

ETEOCLE

Ché s'egli muore, sopra gli occhi a lui

piombando, diverrà la notte simbolo

giusto e verace, all'uom che insegne ostenta

445

sí tracotanti; ed ei, contro sé stesso,

vaticinato questa ingiuria avrà.

A Tidèo contro, a custodir le porte,

io costui pongo: l'onorato figlio

d'Astaco. È generoso: il trono venera

450

di Verecondia, e aborre le parole

millantatrici. A turpi opere tardo,

non vuole esser codardo; e la sua stirpe

vien dagli eroi che Cadmo seminò,

che Marte risparmiò. Ben, parmi, indigeno

455

è Melanippo. Al trar dei dadi, Marte

giudicherà. Ma Dice consanguinea

sospinge lui, che dalla madre terra

lontana tenga l'inimica lancia.

CORO

Attamen rex

ipfe Oedipi filius

340

Cupit recentem nuncij sermonem intelligere.

Feſtinatio non adequabit pedem huius.

Nun.

Dicerem ſane, probe ſciens res hostium,

Quomodo quiſq; in portis fortem adeptus sit.

Tydeus quidem iam ad portas Prætias

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Strepit, uadum uerò Iſmenum non finit illum träfire

Vates, nam facrificia non ſunt pulchra.

Tydeus furens, pugnæ cupidus,

Meridianis clangoribus tanquam draco clamat,

Inceßit probris uatem Oeclidem ſapientem

350

Blandiri dicit cum blandiri morti, & pugnæ igna

via.

Talia uociferans, tres fuſcas cristas

Quatit, galeæ cæſariem:ab huius clypeo

Aencæ clangunt tube metum.

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Habet excellens fignum in clypeo hoc,

Flammans ab astris cælum factum:

Splendens uerò plenilunium in medio clypeo,

Antiquiſſimus aſtrorum noctis oculus eleganter pic

tus est.

360

Hec iactans faſtuoſis armis,

Boat apud ripas fluminis, cupidus pugne,

Tanquam equus contra frena infaniens furore,

Qui tanquam clangore tube expectans geſtit.

Quem oppones illi, qui Præte portarum

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Claustris apertis idoneus imperandi est.

Eteocles

Ornatum quidem uiri timerem nullum:

Criſtæ & tuba non mordent, ſine hasta.

Et noctem hanc, quam dicis in clypeo

Astris ſplendentem cæli affequetur,

370

Forteq; uates erit stoliditas alicui.

Si enim nox in oculos cadat morienti,

Huic ferenti hec ſuperba infignia,

Eſſent rectè & iuſte denominata,

Ipſeq; contra ſeipſum contumeliam uaticinaretur.

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Ipſe uerò Tydeo probum Aſtaci filium

Nunc opponam, præfectum portarum

Admodum generofum, thronumq; pudoris

Venerantem, odioq; habentem fuperbos fermones.

Turpe enim otium eſse ducit, & nõ cupit eſse malus:

380

Ab Spartanis uiris, quibus Mars pepercit,

Genus traxit, admodum uerò indigena est

Melanipus,opus autem Mars decernet forte.

Ac de caufa potißimum ipſum Deus ordinat,

Vt arceat ab alma matre hoſtilem haftam.

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Cho.

Semi-Chorus

Ay, and our king, the son of Oedipus,

Comes prompt to time, to learn the spy's report—

His heart is fainer than his foot is fast!

The Spy

Well have I scanned the foe, and well can say

325

Unto which chief, by lot, each gate is given.

Tydeus already with his onset-cry

Storms at the gate called Proetides; but him

The seer Amphiaraus holds at halt,

Nor wills that he should cross Ismenus' ford,

330

Until the sacrifices promise fair.

But Tydeus, mad with lust of blood and broil,

Like to a cockatrice at noontide hour,

Hisses out wrath and smites with scourge of tongue

The prophet-son of Oecleus— Wise thou art,

335

Faint against war, and holding back from death!

With such revilings loud upon his lips

He waves the triple plumes that o'er his helm

Float overshadowing, as a courser's mane;

And at his shield's rim, terror in their tone,

340

Clang and reverberate the brazen bells.

And this proud sign, wrought on his shield, he bears—

The vault of heaven, inlaid with blazing stars;

And, for the boss, the bright moon glows at full,

The eye of night, the first and lordliest star.

345

Thus with high-vaunted armour, madly bold,

He clamours by the stream-bank, wild for war,

As a steed panting grimly on his bit,

Held in and chafing for the trumpet's bray!

Whom wilt thou set against him? when the gates

350

Of Proetus yield, who can his rush repel?

Eteocles

To me, no blazon on a foeman's shield

Shall e'er present a fear! such pointed threats

Are powerless to wound; his plumes and bells,

Without a spear, are snakes without a sting.

355

Nay, more—that pageant of which thou tellest—

The nightly sky displayed, ablaze with stars,

Upon his shield, palters with double sense—

One headstrong fool will find its truth anon!

For, if night fall upon his eyes in death,

360

Yon vaunting blazon will its own truth prove,

And he is prophet of his folly's fall.

Mine shall it be, to pit against his power

The loyal son of Astacus, as guard

To hold the gateways—a right valiant soul,

365

Who has in heed the throne of Modesty

And loathes the speech of Pride, and evermore

Shrinks from the base, but knows no other fear.

He springs by stock from those whom Ares spared,

The men called Sown, a right son of the soil,

370

And Melanippus styled. Now, what his arm

To-day shall do, rests with the dice of war,

And Ares shall ordain it; but his cause

Hath the true badge of Right, to urge him on

To guard, as son, his motherland from wrong.

375

Chorus

Führerin des zweiten Halbchors.

Und auch der Herrscher, Dedipus' erhabner Sohn,

Kommt hier, des Boten neue Mähr zu hören, selbst;

Auch er beschleunigt seinen Schritt in raschem Schwung.

(Von der Seite der Heimat tritt Eteokles mit großem kriegerischem Gefolge ein, von der anderen kommt der Bote.)

Der Bote.

Wohlunterrichtet meld' ich, was beim Feind geschah,

Und welches Thor die Loose Jedem zugetheilt.

355

Schon wüthet Tydeus ungescheut an Prötos' Thor;

Doch läßt Ismenos' Wellen ihn der Seher nicht

Durchschreiten, weil das Opfer ihm nicht günstig sei.

Er aber, rasend und entbrannt von Kampfeslust,

Tobt gleich dem Drachen, den die Mittagsglut entflammt,

360

Und schilt und schmäht den Seher, Dikles' weisen Sohn,

Er schmeichle feigen Sinnes Tod und Kampf hinweg.

So ruft er, schüttelt seinen dreifachschattenden

Roßschweif, des Helmes Mähnen, und an seinem Schild

Tönt graus Entsehen erzgetriebner Glocken Klang.

365

In seines Schildes Felde prangt ein stolzes Bild:

Das sternumflammte Himmelsrund, kunstreich geprägt.

Der klare Vollmond, aller Sterne schönster, strahlt

Im Mittelpunkt, das Auge schwarzer Nacht, hervor.

So kühn in stolzem Waffenschmuck sich blähend, tobt

370

Tydeus am Stromgestade, heiß von Kampfeslust,

Gleichwie das Streitroß seinen Zaum anschnaubt und schäumt,

Wenn's auf der Schlachtdrommete Ruf zornglühend harrt.

Wen stellst du dem entgegen? Wer verbürgt das Thor

Des Prötos dir zu decken, wenn der Riegel sprang?

375

Eteokles.

Ich zittre nie vor eines Kriegers Waffenschmuck,

Und keine Wunden schlagen mir die Bilderei'n,

Noch riken Busch und Klingel, wo die Lanze fehlt.

Und jene Nacht, die, lichter Himmelssterne voll,

Auf seinem Schilde funkelt, wie du meldetest,

380

Leicht mag prophetisch werden ihm der Unverstand.

Denn wenn die Nacht des Todes ihm auf's Auge sinkt,

Dann wird dem Wappenträger wohl dies stolze Bild

Wahrhaft und allem Rechte nach ein Bild der Nacht;

Sich selber hat er solche Schmach vorhergesagt.

385

Ich will dem Tydeus Astakos' geprief'nen Sohn

Entgegenstellen, vorzusteh'n des Thores Hut,

Den hochgebornen Helden, der den Thron der Scheu

Demüthig ehrt und eitle Prahlereien haßt.

Langsam zu Schlechtem, flieht er doch die feige That.

390

Von jenem Saatvolk, das des Ares Wuth verschont,

Entstammt, erwuchs, ein ächter Sprosse dieser Flur,

Melanippos; Ares würfelt und entscheidet selbst.

Ihn treibt des Blutes heilig Recht zum Kampf hinaus,

Sein Mutterland zu schirmen vor der Feinde Speer.

395

(Melanippos geht mit einem Theile des Gefolges ab.)

Erster Halbchor.

Erste Strophe.