Ours is the strife, be ours the forfeiture.
Let us ourselves, to a conclusion bring
This unjust waste of blood, within your presence,
And on this field of death—And thou, whom I
Should call no more my brother, do thou spare
The blood of Thebes: thy hate, thy rage, thy sword,
All, all, on me let fall, on me alone!'
To speak and leap with fury to the charge
Were actions of one instant.
Drunk with blood,