for he declares, that whether the god is willing or unwilling, he
will make havoc of our city, and that not the Wrath[128] of Jove,
dashing down upon the plain, should stop him. And he is wont to compare
both the lightnings and the thunder-bolts to the heat of noontide. He
has a bearing too, a naked man bearing fire, and there gleams a torch
with which his hands are armed;[129] and, in letters of gold, he is
uttering, I WILL BURN THE CITY. Against a man such as this do thou
send[130]----. Who will engage with him? Who will abide his vaunting and
not tremble?

ET. And in this case[131] also one advantage is gained upon another. Of
the vain conceits of man in sooth the tongue of truth becomes accuser.
But Capaneus is menacing, prepared for action, dishonoring the gods, and
practicing his tongue in vain exultation; mortal as he is, he is sending
loud-swelling words into heaven to the ears of Jove. But I trust that,
as he well deserves, the fire-bearing thunder-bolt will with justice
come upon him, in no wise likened to the noontide warmth of the sun. Yet
against him, albeit he is a very violent blusterer, is a hero marshaled,
fiery in his spirit, stout Polyphontes, a trusty guard by the favor of
Diana our protectress, and of the other gods. Mention another who hath
had his station fixed at another of our gates.

CH. May he perish[132] who proudly vaunts against our city, and may the
thunder-bolt check him before that he bursts into my abode, or ever,
with his insolent spear force us away from our maiden dwellings.

MES. And verily I will mention him that hath next had his post allotted
against our gates: for to Eteoclus, third in order, hath the third lot
leapt from the inverted helm of glittering brass, for him to advance his
battalion against the gates of Neis; and he is wheeling his steeds
fuming in their trappings, eager to dash forward against the gates. And
their snaffles ring, in barbarian fashion, filled with the breath of
their snorting nostrils. His buckler, too, hath been blazoned in no
paltry style, but a man in armor is treading the steps of a ladder to
his foemen's tower, seeking to storm it. And this man, in a combination
of letters, is shouting, how that not even Mars should force him from
the bulwarks. Do thou send also to this man a worthy champion to ward
off from this city the servile yoke.

ET. I will send this man forthwith, and may it be with good fortune; and
verily he is sent, bearing his boast