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Nor overthrow the city thou wouldst rule.
What madness holds its sway within thy soul?
Wouldst thou, by seeking to obtain the land,
Destroy it? That it may become thine own,
Dost thou intend to spoil it utterly?
To thine own cause thou doest deadly wrong,
In harrying this very soil of thine 560
With hostile arms, in laying low the crops,
And spreading fear through all the country round.
No one such devastation ever works
Upon his own. What thou dost burn with fire,
And reap with sword, 'tis plain that thou dost grant
To be another's. Gain thou then the throne,
Whichever of you will; but gain it so
That 'twill not be the kingdom's overthrow. 565
Dost seek these homes with hostile sword and brand?
Wilt thou avail to batter down these walls
Which great Amphion built, these mighty walls,
Whose stones no human hand e'er set in place,
The huge weights moving by the creaking crane—
Hut, marshaled by the strains of song and harp,
The stones, e'en to the topmost turret's round, 570
Moved of their own accord—wouldst shatter these?
As victor wilt thou bear away the spoils?
And shall rough soldiery lead off in chains
Thy father's noble friends and stately dames
Torn from their grieving husbands' very arms?
And, mingled with the wretched captive band, 575
Shall Theban maidens go as presents meet
For wives of Argos? And shall I myself,
My hands (disgraceful!) bound behind my back,
The mother, be the booty of the son,
In triumph borne? And canst thou bear to see
On every hand thy fellow-citizens
To dire destruction given? 'Gainst these dear walls 580
Canst thou lead on the savage enemy,
And fill thy native Thebes with blood and flame?
Hast thou so wild a heart within thy breast,
So hard and savage—and not yet a king?