Page:Four Plays of Aeschylus (Cookson).djvu/129

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THE SEVEN AGAINST THEBES
117

Deliver the seven-gated seat where thou art pleased to dwell!

Hearken, O Gods and Goddesses, perfect in might and power!
Wardens of march and mountain, watchmen on wall and tower!
Yield not by treachery the town that toileth with the spear,
But faithfully receive our prayer, that with stretched hands draw near!
Loved Spirits, who, of strength to save, move striding to and fro
Before our leaguered city, your love for her forthshow!
Think of the rich oblations upon your altars laid,
And mindful of our sacrifice and zealous service,—aid!


Enter Eteocles.


Eteocles.

Oh, you intolerable pack! You hags!
Will't help the city, think ye?—Will't inspire
A bold assurance in the beleaguered troops,
To cast you down before these antique shapes,
—Our Holy Guardians!—there to rave and howl,—
Abjects, disgusted decency abhors!
Good times, or bad times, may I never house
With womankind! The courage of a woman
Is insubmissive, rash, not counsellable,—
And, when she's timid, she's an added plague
To home and fatherland! So is it now!
Thanks to this hither, thither, to and fro
Coursing of scared feet, the faint-hearted fear,