Eteocles: Burghers of Cadmos, timely words beseem Him at the stern who guards the city's weal, Guiding the helm with lids unsoothed by sleep; For, if we prosper, God alone is praised, But if, which Heaven forfend, mischance befall, One man, Eteocles, through all the town, In noiseful rhymes and wailings manifold Would by the folk be chanted; which may Zeus, True to his sacred name, Averter, turn From our Cadmeian city; you meanwhile It now behoveth--him alike who fails Of youth's fair prime, and him whose bloom is past, Yet nursing still his body's stalwart strength, And each one grown to manhood, as befits-- The State to aid and shrines of native gods, That ne'er their homes be erased; to aid Your children too, and this your mother earth, Beloved nurse, who, while your childish limbs Crept on her friendly plain, all nurture-toil Full kindly entertained, and fostered you Her denizens to be, in strait like this Shield-bearing champions, trusty in her cause. And so far, to the present day, in sooth God in our favour hath inclined the scale; For unto us, so long beleaguered here, War prospers in the main, through heaven's high will;-- But now, so speaks the seer, augur divine, Without fire omens, but in ear and mind Marking, with faultless skill, presageful birds,-- He, lord of these divining arts, declares That the prime onset of the Achaian host, Night-plotted, threatens even now the town; Haste, to the turrets then and bastion-gates Rush in full panoply;--the breastwork throng, Take station on the platforms of the towers, And, biding at the outlets of the ports, Be of good courage, nor this alien swarm Dread over-much; God will rule all for good. Myself have scouts sent forth and army spies, Who, as I trust, no bootless journey make; And having heard their tidings, in no wise Shall I by guileful stratagem be caught.