Pluck thy passion in the bud.
Eteocles.
Fate urges on; the god will have it so.[n37]
Now drift the race of Laius, with full sail,
Abhorred by Phœbus, down Cocytus’ stream!
ANTISTROPHE IV.
Chorus.
Let not ravening rage consume thee!
Bitter fruit thy wrath will bear;
Sate thy hunger with the thousands,
But of brother’s blood beware!