Thou mightst have hope; but, Polynices, never,
Or when the darkness of the mother’s womb
Thou first didst leave, or in thy nursling prime,
Or in thy bloom of youth, or in the gathering
Of beard on manhood’s chin, hath Justice owned thee,
Or known thy name; and shall she know thee now
Thou leadst a stranger host against thy country?
Her nature were a mockery of her name
If she could fight for knaves, and still be Justice.
In this faith strong, this traitor I will meet