But thou, my son, men say, hast made affiance
With strangers: children gotten in thine halls
Gladden thee, yea, thou soughtest strange alliance!340
Son, on thy mother falls
Thine alien bridal's curse to haunt her ever.
Thee shall a voice from Laïus' grave accuse.
The spousal torch for thee I kindled never,
As happy mothers use;
Nor for thy bridal did Ismenus bring thee
Joy of the bath; nor at the entering-in
Of this thy bride did Theban maidens sing thee.
A curse be on that sin,[1]350
Whether of steel's spell,[2] strife-lust, or thy father
It sprang, or whether revel of demons rose
In halls of Oedipus!—on mine head gather
All tortures of these woes.
Chorus.
Mighty with women is their travail's fruit;355
Yea, dear the child is to all womankind.
Polyneikes.
Wisely, and yet not wisely, have I come,
Mother, mid foes: yet all men are constrained
To love their fatherland; who saith not so,
Sporteth with words, his heart is otherwhere.360
