To Argos, troubler of the city’s peace,
The Furies’ herald, crimson slaughter’s minion,
And councillor of folly to Adrastus.
Thy brother too, the might of Polynices,
He whips with keen reproaches, and upcasts
With bitter taunts his evil-omened name,
Making it spell his ugly sin that owns it.[n34]
O fair and pious deed, even thus he cries,
To blot thy native soil with war, and lead
A foreign host against thy country’s gods!