ANT. I know that I please those whom I would please.
ISM. Yes, if you thrive; but your desire is bootless.
ANT. Well, when I fail I shall be stopt, I trow!
ISM. One should not start upon a hopeless quest.
ANT. Speak in that vein if you would earn my hate
And aye be hated of our lost one. Peace!
Leave my unwisdom to endure this peril;
Fate cannot rob me of a noble death.
ISM. Go, if you must—Not to be checked in folly,
But sure unparalleled in faithful love![Exeunt
[page 6][100-130]
CHORUS. (entering).
Beam of the mounting Sun!I 1
O brightest, fairest ray
Seven-gated Thebè yet hath seen!
Over the vale where Dircè’s fountains run
At length thou appearedst, eye of golden Day,
And with incitement of thy radiance keen
Spurredst to faster flight
The man of Argos hurrying from the fight.
Armed at all points the warrior came,
But driven before thy rising flame
He rode, reverting his pale shield,
Headlong from yonder battlefield.
In snow-white panoply, on eagle wing,[Half-Chorus
He rose, dire ruin on our land to bring,
Roused by the fierce debate
Of Polynices’ hate,
Shrilling sharp menace from his breast,
Sheathed all in steel from crown to heel,
With many a plumèd crest.