But, when a brother falls by brother’s hands,
Age may not mellow such dark due of guilt.
Eteocles.
If thou canst bear an ill, and fear no shame,
Bear it: but if to bear is to be base,
Choose death, thy only refuge from disgrace.
STROPHE IV.
Chorus.
Whither wouldst thou? calm thy bosom,
Tame the madness of thy blood;
Ere it bear a crimson blossom,