Eteocles.
Answer me this, insufferable brood!
Is this your wisdom, this your safety-note
To Theban soldiers, this your war-cry, thus
In prostrate woe clasping the guardian gods,
To scream and wail the vain lament of fools?
I pray the gods, in good or evil days,
May never fate be mine to lodge with women.
When fortune’s brave, their pride’s unbearable;
But, comes a thought of fear, both hall and forum