MESS. O wretched me! what language or what words can I utter? we are
undone--
CRE. Thou beginnest thy speech with no promising prelude.
MESS. Oh wretched me! doubly do I lament, for I hear great calamities.
CRE. In addition to the calamities that have happened dost thou still speak
of others?
MESS. Thy sister's sons, O Creon, no longer behold the light.
CRE. Ah! alas! thou utterest great ills to me and to the state.
MESS. O mansions of Œdipus, do ye hear these things of thy children who
have perished by similar fates?
CHOR. Ay, so that, had they but sense, they would weep.
CRE. O most heavy misery! Oh me wretched with woes! alas! unhappy me!
MESS. If that thou knewest the evils yet in addition to these.
CRE. And how can there be more fatal ills than these?
MESS. Thy sister is dead with her two children.
CHOR. Raise, raise the cry of woe, and smite your heads with the blows of
your white hands.
CRE. Oh unhappy Jocasta, what an end of thy life and of thy marriage hast
thou endured in the riddles of the Sphinx![45] But how took place the
slaughter of her two sons, and the combat arising from the curse of Œdipus?
tell me.
MESS. The success of the country before the towers indeed thou knowest; for
the circuit of the wall is not of such vast extent, but that thou must know
all that has taken place. But after that the sons of the aged Œdipus had
clad their limbs in brazen armor, they came and stood in the midst of the
plain between the two armies, ready for the contest, and the fierceness of
the single battle. And having cast a look toward Argos, Polynices uttered
his prayer; "O venerable Juno (for I am thine, since in marriage I joined
myself with the daughter of Adrastus, and dwell in that land), grant me to
slay my brother, and to cover with blood my hostile hand bearing the
victory." And Eteocles looking at the temple of Pallas, glorious in her
golden shield, prayed; "O Daughter of Jove, grant me with my hand to hurl
my victorious spear from this arm home to the breast of my brother, [and
slay him who came to lay waste my country."] And when the sound of the
Tuscan trumpet was raised, as the torch, the signal for the fierce battle,
they sped with dreadful rush toward each other; and like wild boars
whetting their savage tusks, they met, their cheeks all moist with foam;
and they rushed forward with their lances; but they couched beneath the
orbs of their shields, in order that the steel might fall harmless. But if
either perceived the other's eye raised above the verge, he drove the lance
at his face, intent to be beforehand with him: but dexterously they shifted
their eyes to the open ornaments of their shields, so that the spear was
made of none effect. And more sweat trickled down the spectators than the
combatants, through the fear of their friends. But Eteocles, stumbling with
his foot against a stone, which rolled under his tread,[46] places his limb
without the shield. But Polynices ran up with his spear, when he saw a
stroke open to his steel, and the Argive spear passed through the shank.
And all the host of the Danaï shouted for joy. And the hero who first was
wounded, when he perceived his shoulder exposed in this effort, pierced the
breast of Polynices with his lance, and gave joy to the citizens of Cadmus,
but he broke the point of his spear. But being come to a strait for a
spear, he retreated backward on his leg, and taking a stone of marble, he
hurled it and crashed _his antagonist's_ spear in the middle: and the
battle was on equal terms, both being deprived of the spear in their hands.
Then seizing the handles of their swords they met at close quarters, and,
as they clashed their shields together, raised a great tumult of battle
around them. And Eteocles having a sort of idea of its success, made use of
a Thessalian stratagem, _which he had learned_ from his connection with
that country. For giving up his present mode of attack, he brings his left
foot behind, protecting well the pit of his own stomach; and stepping
forward his right leg, he plunged the sword through the navel, and drove it
to the vertebræ. But the unhappy Polynices bending together his side and
his bowels falls weltering in blood. But the other, as he were now the
victor, and had subdued him in the fight, casting his sword on the ground,
went to spoil him, not fixing his attention on himself, but on that his
purpose. Which thing also deceived him; for Polynices, he that fell first,
still breathing a little, preserving his sword e'en in his deathly fall,
with difficulty indeed, but he did stretch his sword to the heart of
Eteocles. And holding the dust in their gripe they both fall near one
another, and determined not the victory.
CHOR. Alas! alas! to what degree, O Œdipus, do I groan for thy misfortunes!
but the God seems to have fulfilled thy imprecations.
MESS. Hear now then woes even in addition to these--For when her sons
having fallen were breathing their last, at this moment the wretched mother
rushes before them, and when she perceived them stricken with mortal wounds
she shrieked out, "Oh my sons, I am come too late a succor:" and throwing
herself by the side of her children in turn, she wept, she lamented with
moans her long anxiety in suckling them _now lost_: and their sister, who
accompanied to stand by her in her misery, at the same time _broke forth_;
"O supporters of my mother's age! Oh ye that have betrayed my hopes of
marriage, my dearest brothers!"--But king Eteocles heaving from his breast
his gasping breath, heard his mother, and putting out his cold clammy hand,
sent not forth indeed a voice; but from his eyes spoke her in tears to
signify affection. But Polynices, who yet breathed, looking at his sister
and his aged mother, thus spoke: "We perish, O my mother; but I grieve for
thee, and for this my sister, and my brother who lies dead, for being my
friend, he became my enemy, but still my friend.--But bury me, O mother of
my being, and thou my sister, in my native land, and pacify the exasperated
city, that I may obtain thus much at least of my country's land, although I
have lost the palace. And close my eyelids with thy hand, my mother" (and
he places it himself upon his eyes), "and fare ye well! for now darkness
surroundeth me." And both breathed out their lives together. And the
mother, when she saw what had taken place, beyond endurance grieving,
snatched the sword from the dead body, and perpetrated a deed of horror;
for she drove the steel through the middle of her throat, and lies dead on
those most dear to her, having each in her arms embraced. But the people
rose up hastily to a strife of opinions; we indeed, as holding, that my
master was victorious; but they, that the other was; and there was also a
contention between the generals, those on the other side _contended_, that
Polynices first struck with the spear, but those on ours that there was no
victory where the combatants died. [And in the mean time Antigone withdrew
from the army;] but they rushed to arms; but fortunately by a sort of
foresight the people of Cadmus had sat upon their shields: and we gained
the advantage of falling on the Argives not yet accoutred in their arms.
And no one made a stand, but flying they covered the plain; and immense
quantities of blood were spilt of the corses that fell, but when we were
victorious in the fight, some indeed raised the image of Jove emblem of
victory, but some of us stripping the shields from the Argive corses sent
the spoils within the city. But others with Antigone are bearing hither the
dead for their friends to lament over. But these contests have in some
respect turned out most happy for this state, but in other respect most
unhappy.
CHOR. No longer the misfortunes of the house come to our ears, we may also
see before the palace these three fallen corses, who have shared the dark
realms by a united death.
[_The dead bodies borne_.]