the very act of casting
lots, that so each of them, obtaining his post by lot, might lead on his
battalion to our gates. Wherefore do thou with all speed marshal at the
outlets of the gates the bravest men, the chosen of our city; for
already the host of Argives hard at hand armed cap-a-pie is in motion,
is speeding onward, and white foam is staining the plain with its
drippings from the lungs of their chargers. Do thou then, like the
clever helmsman of a vessel, fence[93] our city before the breath of
Mars burst like a hurricane upon it, for the main-land billow of their
host is roaring. And for these measures do thou seize the very earliest
opportunity; for the sequel I will keep my eye a faithful watch by day,
and thou, knowing from the clearness of my detail the movements of those
without, shalt be unscathed.

[_Exit_ MESSENGER.

ET. O Jupiter! and earth! and ye tutelary deities! and thou Curse, the
mighty Erinnys of my sire! do not, I pray, uproot with utter destruction
from its very base, a prey to foemen, our city, which utters the
language of Greece, and our native dwellings.[94] Grant that they may
never hold the free land and city of Cadmus in a yoke of slavery; but be
ye our strength--nay, I trust that I am urging our common interests, for
a state that is in prosperity honors the divinities.[95]

[_Exit_ ETEOCLES.

CHORUS.[96] I wail over our fearful, mighty woes! the army is let loose,
having quitted its camp, a mighty mounted host is streaming hitherward
in advance;[97] the dust appearing high in the air convinces me, a
voiceless, clear, true messenger; the noise of the clatter of their
hoofs upon the plain,[98] reaching even to our couches, approaches my
ears, is wafted on, and is rumbling like a resistless torrent lashing
the mountain-side. Alas! alas! oh gods and goddesses, avert the rising
horror; the white-bucklered[99] well-appointed host is rushing on with a
shout on the other side our walls, speeding its way to the city. Who
then will rescue us, who then of gods and goddesses will aid us? Shall I
then prostrate myself before the statues of the divinities? Oh ye
blessed beings, seated on your glorious thrones, 'tis high time for us
to cling to your statues--why do we deeply sighing delay? Hear ye, or
hear ye not, the clash of bucklers? When, if not now, shall we set
about the orison of the peplus[100] and chaplets? I perceive a din, a
crash of no single spear. What wilt thou do? wilt thou, O