Statius, Thebaid Book 2
Translated by J. H. Mozley
Formatted by C. Chinn


	Meanwhile the winged son of Maia returns from the cold shades, 
	fulfilling the errand of great Jove; on every side sluggish clouds 
	hinder his way and misty air enfolds him, no Zephyrs 
	wafted his course, but the foul vapours of the silent 
5	world. On this side Styx encircling its nine regions, 
	on that a barrier of fiery torrents encloses his path. 
	Behind him follows old Laius’ trembling shade, 
	still halting from his wound; for deeper than the hilt 
	had his kinsman’s impious swordthrust pierced into 
10	his life and sped the first blow of Avenging Wrath; 
	yet on he goes, strengthening his steps with the healing wand. 
	Then barren woods and spirit-haunted fields 
	and groves of lurid hue stand in amaze, and Earth herself 
	marvels that the backward road lies open, nor even to the dead 
15	and those already bereft of light was lacking the livid blight 
	of envy. One there, perversely eager beyond the rest ever 
	to revile the gods – thus indeed had he come by 
	a grievous doom – and to repine at happiness, cries: 
	“Good speed, thou lucky one, on what behest soever summoned, 
20	whether by Jove’s command, or whether an overmastering Fury 
	drive thee to meet the day, or frenzied witch of Thessaly 
	bid thee come forth from thy secret sepulchre: 
	alas! thou that wilt see the pleasant sky and the sunlight 
	thou didst leave behind and the green earth and the pure river-springs, 
25	yet more sadly wilt return again to this darkness.”
	
	Cerberus lying on the murky threshold perceived them, 
	and reared up with all his mouths wide agape, 
	fierce even to entering folk; but now his black neck swelled up 
	all threatening, now had he torn and scattered their bones upon the ground, 
30	had not the god with branch Lethaean soothed his bristling frame 
	and quelled with threefold slumber the steely glare.
	
	There is a place – named Taenarum by the Inachian folk – 
	where foaming Malea’s dreaded headland rises 
	into the air, nor suffers any vision to reach its summit. 
35	Sublime stands the peak and looks down serene 
	on winds and rain, and only to weary stars affords a resting-place. 
	There tired winds find repose, and there the lightnings 
	have their path; hollow clouds hold the mountain’s 
	midmost flanks, and never beat of soaring wing comes nigh 
40	the topmost ranges nor the hoarse clap of thunder. 
	But when the day inclines towards its setting, a vast shadow casts 
	its fringes wide over the level waters, and floats upon mid-sea. 
	Around an inner bay Taenaros curves his broken 
	shore-line, not bold to breast the outer waves. 
45	There Neptune brings home to haven his coursers 
	wearied by the Aegean flood; in front their hooves paw 
	the sand, behind, they end in fishy tails beneath the water. 
	In this region, so ‘tis said, a hidden path conducts the pallid ghosts, 
	and dowers with many a dead the spacious halls 
50	of swarthy Jove.1  If Arcadian husbandmen speak truth, 
	shrieks are heard there and the moaning of the damned, and the land is all 
	astir with hurrying grisly forms; often the cries and blows of the Furies 
	have resounded till mid-day, and the baying of Death’s 
	tri-formed warder has scared the rustics from the fields.
	
55	By this way then did the nimble god, all wrapped about with dusky shadow, 
	leap forth to the upper world, and shake from his face the vapours 
	of the nether region, and make serene his countenance with draughts of living air. 
	Thence by Arcturus and the moon’s mid silences o’er fields and cities 
	he wends his way. Sleep, driving Night’s coursers, 
60	met him, and rose abashed to salute his godhead, 
	turning aside from his celestial path. 
	Beneath the god flies the shade, and knows again 
	his lost stars and the land that bore him; and now he looks down 
	on Cirrha’s heights and Phocis, that his own corpse polluted. 
65	Now they were come to Thebes, and hard by his own son’s threshold 
	Laius groaned, tarrying to enter the well-known house. 
	But when he saw his own yoke hanging on the lofty pillars 
	and the chariot still stained with blood, 
	almost had he in wild fear turned back and fled, nor could the Thunderer’s 
70	high commands restrain him, nor the waving of the Arcadian2  wand.
	
	That too chanced to be the day marked by the well-known falling 
	of the Thunderer’s brand, when thy birth’s untimely hastening, O infant Euhius,3  
	caused thy sire to take thee to himself. Therein had the Tyrian settlers4  
	found cause to pass the night in sleepless rivalry of sport; 
75	scattered far and wide through house and field, 
	amid garlands and mixing-bowls drained dry they panted forth 
	the wine-god under the light of day; then many a boxwood pipe 
	resounded and cymbals louder than the beat of bull-hide drum. 
	Cithaeron himself exultant had set prudent matrons flocking 
80	in a nobler frenzy through his pathless groves: 
	even as the Bistonians5  in wild concourse hold their revels 
	upon Rhodope or in the depths of Ossa’s vales. 
	For them one of the flock snatched half-alive from the lion’s jaw 
	is a feast, and to abate their fury with new milk 
85	is luxury; but when the fierce fragrance of Ogygian Inachus 
	breaths upon them, then how glorious to fling stones and goblets, 
	and with the shedding of guiltless comrades’ blood to begin 
	the day anew and appoint once more the festal banquet!
	
	Such was the night when the swift Cyllenian glided down 
90	on the silent air to the couch of the Echionian prince,6  where in huge bulk 
	he had flung his limbs on a bed piled high with Assyrian7  
	coverlets. Alas! for mortal hearts that know not 
	their destiny! He feasts and he slumbers. 
	Then the old man performs what he is bidden, and, lest he seem 
95	but a false phantom of the night, puts on the darkened visage 
	of the ancient seer Tiresias, and his voice and well-known 
	woollen bands. His own long hair and hoary beard combed downward 
	from the chin remain, and his own pallid hue, but through his locks there runs 
	the feigned circlet, and the sacred fillets entwined with the grey olive 
100	are plain to view. Then he seemed to touch his breast 
	with the olive bough and give utterance to these fateful words: 
	“This is no time of sleep for thee, thou sluggard, who liest careless 
	of thy brother in the depth of night! long time have great deeds 
	summoned thee, slothful one, and weighty preparings for what shall be. 
105	But thou, even as if some ship’s captain, while the south winds are already 
	raising the billows on the Ionian main, should lie idle beneath a black storm-cloud, 
	forgetful of his tackling and of the rudder that sway the waters, – 
	thou tarriest. And he even now – so Fame can tell – waxes proud 
	of his new wedlock, and gets to himself might whereby to seize the realm 
110	and refuse thee thy part, and appoints himself an old age in thy halls. 
	Adrastus, foretold by omen to be the father of his bride, and the Argive dowry 
	raise his spirits, yea, and Tydeus, stained by a brother’s blood, 
	hath he graciously received into a lifelong bond. 
	Hence swelling pride, and a promise to thy brother of long exile for thee. 
115	The sire of gods himself in pity sends me down to thee 
	from on high: hold fast to Thebes, and drive away thy kinsman 
	who is blind with lust of rule, and will dare as much against thyself, 
	nor suffer him all agape for a brother’s death to trust any more in the treachery 
	he devises, nor to bring Mycenae to queen it over Cadmus.”
	
120	He spoke, and departing – for already the sun’s horses were driving 
	in rout the pale stars – tore from his head the chaplet and woollen bands, 
	and revealed himself for his grandsire, then leaning over 
	his dread grandson’s couch bared his throat’s open wound 
	and flooded his sleep with streaming blood. 
125	The other, startled from his slumbers, springs up and leaps from the couch, 
	full of horror, and shaking from him the phantom blood 
	shrinks appalled from his grandsire and seeks out his brother. 
	Just as when a tigress hearing the noise of hunters 
	has grimly faced the nets and shaken off lazy sleep; 
130	‘tis war she yearns for, and she loosens her jaws and trims her talons, 
	and soon she rushes amid the companies and carries off in her mouth 
	a man still breathing, to feed her savage whelps: even so stirred by rage 
	the chieftain dreams of war against his absent brother.
	
	And now Aurora rising from her Mygdonian8  resting-place 
135	had scattered the cold shadows from the high heaven, 
	and shaking the dew-drops from her hair blushed deep in the sun’s 
	pursuing beams; toward her through the clouds the rosy morning-star 
	turns his late fires, and with slow steed leaves 
	an alien world, until the fiery father’s orb 
140	be full replenished and he forbid his sister to usurp his rays. 
	Then did the aged son of Talaus and, with no long delay, 
	the heroes twain of Dirce and of Achelous9  rise swiftly 
	from their couches. Upon them, wearied by blows 
	and endurance of the storm, had Sleep poured all his horn’s 
145	bounty; but scant repose visited the breast 
	of the Inachian monarch, while in his thoughts he broods upon heaven’s will 
	and the new ties of friendship, and wonders what destinies he is admitting to his house 
	in his new-found sons-in-law. They meet in the mid chambers of the palace, 
	and draw night and grasp each other’s hand in turn, 
150	then seat themselves where they may best make interchange of secret counsel, 
	and, the others hesitating, Adrastus thus beings: 
	“Peerless youths, whom a propitious night has brought 
	heaven-prompted to my realm, whose steps my own Apollo has guided 
	even to my palace in spite of rain and lightning-flash 
155	and the Thunderer’s unseasonable sky, 
	I cannot deem it unknown to you and the Pelasgian folk, 
	how zealous a crowd of suitors seeks alliance with my house; 
	for my two daughters, joyful pledge of grandchildren, 
	are reaching equal years of full-grown maidenhood. 
160	How great their beauty and their modesty, trust not a father’s word, 
	nay, ye could judge at yesterday’s banquet. 
	Many a one, with throne and wide-extending sway to boast of, 
	has desired them – ‘twere long to tell the tale of Pheraean 
	and Oebalian princes10  – and mothers also throughout the towns of Achaea, 
165	for hope of posterity; nor did Oeneus thy own father despise 
	more proffered unions, nor the sire of Pisa’s bride with his terrible chariot-reins.11  
	But none of Spartan birth nor of them that hail from Elis may I choose 
	for my daughters’ consorts: to you doth ancient destiny pledge 
	my blood and the guardianship of my halls. 
170	The gods are gracious, in that ye come to me so high in birth and spirit 
	that I rejoice in their oracles. This is the prize that the night’s sufferings 
	have won, this is your reward for the blows ye bore.”
	
	They heard him, and for a while held their eyes fixed 
	in mutual gaze, seeming to yield each other place of speech. 
175	But Tydeus, in every deed more daring, begins: 
	“O how sparingly doth thy sage mind impel thee to proclaim 
	thy own renown, and how greatly by worth dost thou outdo 
	all fortune’s favour! To whom should Adrastus yield 
	in power? Who knows not that thou, when driven 
180	from thy ancestral Sicyon’s throne, didst give law to turbulent 
	Argos? and would that thou wert willing, O just Jupiter, 
	to entrust to these hands the races that Dorian Isthmus contains within 
	the interior lands, and those which it removes beneath its other bound! 
	The interrupted light would not have fled from dire Mycenae,12  
185	nor would the vales of Elis have groaned at the fierce contests,13  
	nor divers Furies afflicted divers kings, nor happened all that thou, 
	O Theban, canst best bewail.14  We verily are willing, and our hearts 
	are open to thee.” So spake he, and the other added: 
	“Would any one refuse to welcome such a father of his bride? 
190	Though Venus smile not yet upon us exiles, 
	banished from our land, nevertheless all sorrows of our hearts 
	are calmed, and the grief is gone that held fast upon our minds. 
	No less joyfully do we take unto us this solace, than a ship 
	rent by the tearing gale beholds the friendly shore. 
195	We delight to enter upon a reign of happy omen, 
	and to pass, under thy destiny, what remains of our allotted lives 
	and labours.” Without more ado 
	they rise, and the Inachian sire adds weight of eager words 
	to every promise, and vows that he will succour them 
200	and bring them back to their fathers’ realms.
	
	The Argives, therefore, as the report spreads through the city 
	that husbands for his daughters have come to the king’s court, 
	and that illustrious Argia, and Deipyle famed no less for beauty, 
	are giving in wedlock their lusty maidenhood, eagerly prepare 
205	for great rejoicing. Fame flies through the kindred cities, 
	and is carried from lip to lip in the neighbouring lands even as far 
	as the Lycaean and beyond Parthenian glades and the Ephyrean15  countryside, 
	nor less does the same tumultuous goddess descend upon Ogygian 
	Thebes. With wings full-stretched she broods over those walls, 
210	bringing terror that accords with the past night to the Labdacian chief: 
	the welcome and the marriage does she relate, 
	and the royal covenant and the union of houses – what mad licence 
	in the devilish monster’s tongue! – and at last she tells of war.
	
						The long-expected day 
	had spread the Argives all abroad16 : the royal halls are filled 
215	with joyous gathering, here may they look face to face upon their forefathers, 
	and see bronzes that vie with the living countenance. 
	So much hath skill dared and wrought! Father Inachus himself, 
	twin-horned, leans leftward upon his titled urn; 
	old Iasius supports him and calm Phoroneus 
220	and warrior Abas, and Acrisius angry with the Thunderer,17  
	and Coroebus bearing a head upon his naked sword, 
	and the grim likeness of Danaus already meditating murder; 
	and many a prince thereafter. Then the common folk in clamorous flood 
	are given entrance at the proud portals, while the whole company of chiefs and all 
225	who in degree stand night the monarch’s majesty take first place of rank. 
	Within, the palace is all aglow with sacrificial fires, and loud 
	with female tumult; a chase band of Argive women surrounds 
	the mother-queen, others thronging about the maidens reconcile them 
	to the new bonds and reassure their timorous hearts. 
230	They moved in splendour and majesty of look and dress, 
	with eyes cast down and modest blush suffusing all their fairness; 
	that last regretful love of maidenhood steals silently 
	into their hearts, and the first shame of guilt overwhelms 
	their countenances; then a generous rain bedews their cheeks, 
235	and tears bring joy to their tender-hearted parents. 
	Just so might Pallas and Phoebus’ sterner sister18  glide down together 
	from high heaven, terrible alike in armour and in looks, 
	and with golden hair braided on their heads, bringing their 
	maiden company, from Cynthus she and she from Aracynthus19 ; 
240	they wouldst thou never learn by long gazing, even had thine eyes leave to gaze, 
	which had the greater beauty, which the greater charm, or which had more 
	of Jove, and were they but pleased to take each other’s dress, 
	Pallas would beseem the quiver and Delia the crested helmet.
	
	The sons of Inachus contend in rivalry of joy, and weary the gods 
245	with vows, as each had household-gear and power of offering. 
	These make supplication with entrails and the victim’s life, those with bare turf; 
	others, heard no less, if their heart be accepted would fain win merit 
	of the gods by incense, and shade their portals with the spoil of the woodlands. 
	But lo! a sudden fear – so cruel Lachesis commanded – 
250	strikes on their hearts and robs the sire of his rejoicing, 
	and turns the day to gloom. On her threshold20  they were drawing nigh 
	to Pallas the unwedded, who among cities prefers not 
	the Muychian21  hills to Argive Larissa; here by ancestral rite 
	the daughters of Iasus, so soon as their chaste years grew ripe for wedlock, 
255	were wont to make offering of virgin tresses, and pray pardon 
	for the first marriage-bed. As they climb the steps and approach the lofty pile, 
	there fell from the temple’s highest summit a brazen shield, 
	the spoil of Arcadian Euhippus, and overwhelmed 
	the heralding torches, the festal light of the marriage train; 
260	and while they dare not yet to make sure advance, a mighty trumpet-blare, 
	heard from the shrine’s inmost recesses, filled them with terror. 
	All at the first shock of panic turned toward the king, 
	then denied they had heard aught; yet all are troubled by the event’s 
	dire omen, and increase their fear by various talk. 
265	Nor was it wonderful: for thou wast wearing, Argia, 
	the ill-starred ornament of thy husband’s giving, the dread necklace 
	of Harmonia.22  Far back the story runs, but I will pursue the well-known tale 
	of woes, whence came it that a new gift had such terrible power.
	
	The Lemnian,23  so they of old believed, long time distressed 
270	at Mars’ deceit and seeing that no punishment gave hindrance 
	to the disclosed amour, and the avenging chains removed not the offence, 
	wrought this for Harmonia on her bridal day to be the glory 
	of her dower. Thereat, through taught mightier tasks, the Cyclopes labour, 
	and the Telchines famed for their handiwork helped in friendly rivalry 
275	of skill; but for himself the sweat of toil was heaviest. 
	There forms he a circlet of emeralds glowing with a hidden fire, 
	and adamant stamped with figures of ill omen, 
	and Gorgon eyes, and embers left on the Sicilian anvil 
	from the last shaping of a thunderbolt, and the crests that shine 
280	on the heads of green serpents; then the dolorous fruit 
	of the Hesperides24  and the dread gold of Phrixus’ fleece; 
	then divers plagues doth he intertwine, and the king adder 
	snatched from Tisiphone’s grisly locks, and the wicked power 
	that commends the girdle25 ; all these he cunningly anoints about 
285	with lunar foam,26  and pours over them the poison of delight. 
	Not Pasithea,27  eldest of the gracious sisters, 
	nor Charm nor the Idalian youth did mould it, but Grief, and all the Passions, 
	and Anguish, and Discord, with all the craft of her right hand. 
	The work first proved its worth, when Harmonia’s complaints 
290	turned to dreadful hissing, and she bore company to grovelling Cadmus, 
	and with long trailing breast drew furrows in the Illyrian fields.28  
	Next, scarce had shameless Semele put the hurtful gift 
	about her neck, when lying Juno crossed her threshold.29  
	Thou too, unhappy Jocasta, didst, as they say, possess the beauteous, 
295	baleful thing, and didst deck thy countenance with its praise – 
	on what a couch, alas! to find favour; and many more beside. 
	Last Argia shines in the splendour of the gift, and in pride of ornament 
	and accursed gold surpassed her sister’s mean attiring. 
	The wife of the doomed prophet30  had beheld it, and at every shrine 
300	and banquet in secret cherished fierce jealousy, 
	if only it might ever be granted her to possess the terrible jewel, 
	nought profited, alas! by omens near at hand. 
	What bitter tears she doth desire! to what ruin tend her impious wishes! 
	Worthy is she, indeed, but what hath her hapless consort deserved, 
305	and his deluded arms? And what the guiltless frenzy of her son?
	
	When twice six days had ended the regal banqueting 
	and the rejoicing of the people, the Ismenian hero turned his gaze 
	towards Thebes, and would fain now be seeking his kingdom. 
	For he recalls that day, when by the hazard that favoured his brother 
310	he stood in Echion’s palace stripped of power, 
	and saw his cause deserted by the gods and his friends 
	all slunk away in hurry and alarm, himself defenceless on every side 
	and all his fortune fled. For but one sister had dared to escort the exile 
	on his sad path; from her even had he parted, his journey scarce begun, 
315	and in deep anger repressed his tearful grief. 
	Then nightly and day by day does he recount in order those 
	whose joy he marked as he went forth, those who were foremost in flattery 
	of the unjust prince, or whom he had himself seen to bewail his exile; 
	anguish devours his mind, and furious wrath, 
320	and hope, than which the heart can bear no heavier burden, 
	when ‘tis long deferred. Brooding thus in his mind 
	upon a cloud of care, he makes ready to set out for Dirce 
	and the Cadmean home denied him. Even as a chieftain bull, 
	banished from his loved valley, whom a conqueror has driven 
325	from his wonted meadow and bidden low far parted from his stolen love, 
	yet anon in exile takes pleasure in his mighty thews, and his neck fresh-blooded 
	waxes strong again, and he bethinks him of the oaks that he has shattered, 
	and eager for battle demands back the pastures and the captive herds; 
	already in speed of foot and power of horn hath he the mastery, his conqueror himself 
330	is dismayed at his return, and the astonished herdsmen scarce now him for the same: 
	not otherwise does the Teumesian youth sharpen his wrath 
	in brooding silence. But his faithful wife had marked his secret yearning 
	to be gone, and lying on the couch in the first pale light of dawn, 
	her arms about her lord, “What thoughts of flight,” she said, 
335	“are these thou ponderest? nought escapes a lover’s eye. 
	I know thy wakeful complainings and thy bitter sighs, 
	thy ever-troubled slumber. How often touching thee with my hand 
	do I find this face all wet with tears, and thy breast loud groaning 
	with thy weight of cares! ‘Tis not the sundering of our 
340	marriage-bond that moves me, nor a widowed youth; 
	although our love is still fresh, nor has our couch yet since the bridal 
	lost he first glow of passion. ‘Tis thy own safety, O beloved – I hasten to confess it – 
	that wrings my heart. Wilt thou seek thy realm unarmed, unfriended, 
	and be able to quit thine own Thebes, should he refuse it? 
345	Yea, Report, that is ever cunning to catch the mind of princes, 
	tells that he is proud and arrogant in his stolen power, and ill-disposed 
	to hear thee; nor had he yet reigned a full year.31  
	Terrified too am I now by soothsayers, now by entrails that speak 
	of threatening gods, by flight of birds, or by disturbing visions of the night; 
350	and ah! never do I call to mind that Juno came falsely to me 
	in my dreams. Whither doth thy journey lead thee? except it be 
	a secretly cherished passion that draws thee to Thebes, 
	and union with a nobler house.” 
	
				Then at last the Echionian youth 
	brief-laughing consoled his wife’s tender grief, and set timely kisses 
355	on her sorrowful cheeks and stayed her tears: 
	“Free thy mind of fear; prudent counsels, believe me, 
	win peaceful days; cares beyond thy years 
	become thee not. But should one day the Saturnian father 
	take knowledge of my fate, and Justice, if she think at all 
360	to glance down from heaven and defend the right on earth: 
	then perchance that day shall dawn for thee, when thou shalt see 
	thy husband’s walls, and go in queenly pomp through two cities.”
	
	So saying he hurried forth from the chamber that he loved, 
	and sadly accosts Tydeus, already the partner of his enterprise, 
365	already sharing his troubles with faithful heart – so strong the bond of love 
	that united them after their quarrel – and Adrastus, father of his spouse. 
	Long time do they hold counsel, when after pondering many a scheme 
	one plan at last finds preference with all, to make trial 
	of his brother’s constancy and seek by humble request a safe return 
370	to the realm. Bold Tydeus volunteers the mission; 
	yea, and thee too, bravest of the Aetolian race, 
	would Deipyle fain stay by many a tear, 
	but her father’s command and the assurance of any envoy’s safe return 
	and her sister’s just entreaties make her yield.
	
375	And now he had accomplished the full measure of a journey made rough by forests 
	and seashore: where lay the marsh of Lerna and the burnt Hydra’s heat 
	makes warm the depths of those unrighteous waters, and where through the length 
	of Nemea scarce is heard to scanty song of the yet timid shepherds32 ; 
	where Ephyre’s eastern side slopes to the winds of Orient 
380	and the Sisyphian havens lie, and the wave that vents its wrath upon 
	the land lies in the curved retreat of Lechaeum sacred to Palaemon.33  
	Thence passes he by Nisus, leaving thee, kindly Eleusis, 
	on his left hand, and at last treads the Teumesian fields 
	and enters the Agenorean towers. There he beholds the cruel Eteocles 
385	high upon a throne and girt round with bristling spears. 
	The appointed season of his reign already past, he was holding the folk 
	under savage governance in his brother’s stead; prepared for every crime 
	he sits, and complains of so late a claiming of his promise.
	
	Standing in the midst – the branch of olive proclaims him 
390	ambassador – when asked his name he declared it and the purpose 
	of his coming; then, rude of speech as ever and quick to anger, 
	and with mixture of harsh words, although his plea was just, he thus began: 
	“Hadst thou simple honesty left thee and regard for a sworn bond, 
	‘twere more right that envoys should go hence to thy brother, 
395	now thy year is finished, and that thou in due course 
	shouldst put off thy state and contentedly leave thy throne, 
	so that he, after long wanderings and unseemly hardships 
	in many a strange city, should at length succeed to the promised kingdom. 
	But since thy darling passion is to reign, and power exerts its flattering charm, 
400	we summon thee; already hath the swift circle brought round 
	the starry globe, and the mountains have regained the shadows that they lost,34  
	since they brother hath suffered the unhappy lot of poverty and exile 
	in unknown cities; now is it time thou too didst spend thy days 
	under Jove’s open sky, and let earth’s coldness freeze thy limbs, 
405	and pay submissive court at the hearths of strangers. 
	Set a term to thy prosperity; long enough in rich pomp of gold 
	and purple hast thou mocked at thy brother’s year of mean poverty; 
	I warn thee, unlearn of thine own will the joys of ruling, 
	and in patient exile merit thy return.”
	
410	He ended, but the other’s fiery heart rages 
	beneath his silent breast, as when a serpent angered 
	by a flung stone darts up close at hand, whose limbs 
	ong thirst has racked, down in its hollow lair, and gathered 
	all the venom to its throat and scaly neck. 
415	“Had they been doubtful signs that forewarned me of my brother’s quarrel, 
	id not his secret hate shine clear as day to me, that bold assurance alone 
	would suffice, whereby you, in mind his very pattern, 
	thus prelude his fury, as though already a new train of sappers 
	were breaching our fenced walls, and the trumpets were kindling the hostile bands 
420	to fierceness. Even if thou hadst been speaking to Bistonians face-to-face 
	in their midst, or to the pale Geloni, on whom the sun shines not, 
	thou wouldst have been more sparing of thy eloquence, and more observant 
	of what is fair and just, in opening thy cause. Nor would I accuse thee 
	of this madness: thou speakest but at command. Now, therefore, 
425	since all your words are threats, and ye demand the sceptre with warrant 
	neither of trust nor peace, and your hands are ever on the sword-hilt, 
	carry back in turn this message of mine, far short of thine as yet, 
	to the Argolic prince: The fortune that is my right, the sceptre that due privilege 
	of years hath assigned me, I hold, and will hold long. 
430	Keep thou thy royal dower, the gift of thy Inachian consort, 
	pile up thy Danaan treasure – for why should I envy thee 
	those nobler deeds? – rule Argos and Lerna under 
	happy auspices! Be it mine to hold the rough pastures 
	of Dirce, and the shores narrowed by the Euboean waves, 
435	nor think it shame to call unhappy Oedipus my sire! 
	Let ancestral splendour be thy boast – scion of Pelops and Tantalus! – 
	and by a nearer channel of descent unite Jove’s blood with thine.35  
	Will thy queen, accustomed to her father’s luxury, endure 
	this simple home? rightly would my sisters perform their anxious tasks 
440	for her, my mother, unsightly from long mourning, 
	and that accursed dotard, heard clamouring perchance from his dark seclusion, 
	would give her offence! The people’s minds are already 
	accustomed to my yoke; I am ashamed, alas! 
	for the folk and elders alike, lest they should suffer so oft the uncertainty 
445	of fortune and the distressful change of rulers, and unwillingly obey a doubtful throne. 
	Unsparing to a people is a short reign; turn and behold 
	the dismay and horror of my citizens at my danger! 
	Shall I abandon these, whom under thy sway sure punishment awaits? 
	‘Tis in anger, O kinsman, that thou comest. Or suppose me willing: 
450	the fathers themselves will not suffer me to render up the crown, if I but know 
	their love and there is gratitude for all my bounty.”
	
					No more endured he, but even 
	in mid-speech flung at him this retort: “Thou shalt restore,” 
	he cries, and again, “Thou shalt restore! Nay, should an iron rampart 
	fence thee, or Amphion with the strains of another song draw about thee 
455	a triple wall, in no wise shall fire or sword defend thee 
	from paying for thy bold deed, and, ere thou die, beating 
	thy captive diadem on the ground beneath our arms. 
	Such a fate wilt thou deserve; those do I pity, whose cheap lives 
	thou dost seize and hurl to death in horrid butchery, 
460	worthy king, and their wives and babes and thou, 
	Ismenus, roll down upon thy blood-stained waters! 
	This then is loyalty, and this thy trusted word! Nor marvel I 
	at the crimes of your race; such was the first author of your blood, 
	such your incestuous sires; but there is a flaw in your parentage, 
465	thou only art the son of Oedipus, and this, O man of violence, 
	shall be the reward for thy sin and crime! We claim our year! 
	But I waste words – “ Boldly thus he shouted back while still 
	in the doorway, then dashed out headlong through their 
	disordered ranks. Even so the famous champion of Oenean Diana,36  
470	with bristles stiff and lightning stroke of tusked jaw, 
	hard pressed though he be by the Argive band, that rolls down stones 
	upon him and boughs of trees uprooted from Achelous’ banks, 
	yet leaves now Telamon, now Ixion prostrate on the ground, 
	and attacks thee, Meleager; there at last was he stayed upon the spear-thrust, 
475	and relaxed the weapon’s force in the fierce-struggling shoulder. 
	Such was the Calydonian hero, as he left the yet timorous council, 
	with savage threats, as thou ‘twere he who was denied the kingdom; 
	he hastens away, hurling from him the branch of olive. 
	The mothers in amazement watch him from their 
480	thresholds’ edge, and utter curses on the fierce son of Oeneus, 
	and withal in their secret hearts upon the king.
	
	But the monarch is not slothful, nor lacks cunning resource of crime 
	and fraud unspeakable. A faithful company of chosen warriors 
	he urges now by bribes, now by ardour of persuasive 
485	words, and fiercely plots a nocturnal affray, and would fain 
	attack the ambassador – a name reverenced by peoples 
	through the ages – by treachery and the silent-lurking sword. 
	What is there that kings hold not vile? What cunning would he devise, 
	were it his brother thou didst place in his power, O Fortune! O blind 
490	and guilty counsels! O ever timorous crime! A sworn band of soldiery 
	go out against one single life, as though they made ready 
	to storm a camp or level a city’s lofty side with the ram’s 
	battering blows; fifty thus form close array, 
	and march in order through the tall gates. Heaven favour now 
495	thy courage, who art deemed worthy of so numerous a foe!
	
	A nearer road leads them through copses, where by a hidden path 
	they make the better speed and travel by a cut through the dense woods. 
	It was a choice spot for a stratagem37 : at a distance from the city two hills 
	bear close upon each other with a grudging gulf between; the shadow of a mountain 
500	above and leafy ridges of curving woodland shut them in. 
	Nature has implanted treachery in the place, and the means 
	of hidden ambush. Through the middle of the rocks threads a rough 
	and narrow track, below which lies a plain and a broad expanse 
	of sloping fields. Over against it a threatening cliff rises high, 
505	the home of the winged monster of Oedipus38 ; here aforetime she stood, 
	fierce uplifting her pallid cheeks, her eyes tainted with corruption 
	and her plumes all clotted with hideous gore; 
	grasping human remains and clutching to her breast 
	half-eaten bones she scanned the plains with awful gaze, 
510	should any stranger dare to join in the strife 
	of riddling words, or any traveller confront her 
	and parley with her terrible tongue; 
	then, without more ado, sharpening forthwith the unsheathed talons 
	of her livid hands and her teeth bared for wounding, 
515	she rose with dreadful beating of wings around the faces of the strangers; 
	nor did any guess her riddle, till caught by a hero that proved her match, 
	with failing wings – ah! horror! – from the bloody cliff she dashed 
	her insatiate paunch in despair upon the rocks beneath. 
	The wood gives reminder of the dread story: the cattle abhor the neighbouring 
520	pastures, and the flock, though greedy, will not touch the fateful herbage; 
	no Dryad choirs take delight in the shade, it ill beseems the sacred rites 
	of Fauns, even birds obscene fly far from the abomination 
	of the grove. Speeding hither with silent steps comes 
	the doomed band; leaning on their spears 
525	and with grounded arms held ready, they await 
	their haughty foe, and set strong guard around the wood.
	
	Night had begun to shroud the sunlight in her dewy pall, 
	and had cast over the earth her dark shadow. 
	The hero drew nigh the woods, and from a lofty mound 
530	sees the red gleam of warriors’ shields and plumed helmets, 
	where the forest boughs leave an open space, and through 
	the opposing shade the flickering moonlight plays upon the brazen armour. 
	Appalled at the sight he yet went onward; he but draws to him 
	his spiky darts, and the sword sheathed to the hilt. 
535	Then first he makes question, in no base terror: “Whence are ye, men, 
	what mean ye lurking thus armed?” No voice made answer, 
	the suspicious silence holds no sure pledge of peace. 
	Lo! a spear, hurled by the mighty arm of Chthonius, 
	the leader of the band, flies through the dusky air; 
540	but heaven and fortune let no aid to his venture. 
	Yet through the covering of Olenian boar and the black bristly hide 
	it sped, over his shoulder, near drawing blood, 
	and widowed of its point strikes harmless on his throat. 
	With hair erect and blood frozen about his heart 
545	he looks this way and that, fiercely alert and pale with rage, 
	nor deems so large a troop to be equipped against him: 
	“Come forth against me! out with you into the open! 
	why such timorous daring, such arrant cowardice? alone 
	I challenge you, alone!” Nor waited they; but when he saw them, 
550	more than he thought, swarming up from countless lurking places, 
	some issuing from the ridges, others in ever-growing numbers coming 
	from the valley-depths, nor few upon the plain, as when the first cry 
	drives the encircled quarry into the open, and the road all lit 
	by gleams of armour, he makes for the heights of the dire Sphinx – 
555	the only path of safety in his bewilderment – 
	and tearing his nails upon the sheer cliff 
	he scales the dreadful steep and gains mastery of the rock, 
	where he has security behind and a clear downward range of harm. 
	Then he tears away from the rocks a huge boulder, that groaning bullocks 
560	scarce with full strength could move from the ground 
	and drag up to the wall; then heaving with all his force 
	he raises and strives to poise the deadly mass: 
	even as great-hearted Pholus lifted the empty mixing-bowl 
	against his Lapith foes. Right in death’s path, aghast 
565	they view him high aloft; the mountain falls hurtling, 
	and whelms them; at once human limbs and faces, 
	weapons and armour lie in mingled ruin. 
	Four men in all groan mangled beneath that one rock; 
	straightway the host flees panic-stricken, dashed from their 
570	enterprise. For no cowards were they who lay there 
	dead: Dorylas of the lightning stroke, in glowing valour 
	a match for princes, and Theron of the seed of Mars, 
	proudly confident in earth-born ancestors, Halys, second to none 
	in swaying at will his reined steed, but fallen on those fields in dismounted flight, 
575	and Phaedimus, who drew his birth from Pentheus, and found thee, 
	Bacchus, still his foe.39  But when he saw the band in terror 
	and disordered rout from the sudden fate of these, 
	he hurls two javelins – these alone did he carry, and had leant them 
	against the mountain – and sends them after the fugitives. 
580	Soon, lest darts should fall on his exposed breast, 
	of his own will he leapt down swiftly to the level plain, and seized the shield 
	which he saw had rolled away when Theron was crushed down, 
	and with his wonted covering of back and head, 
	and breast defended by his enemy’s shield 
585	he stood his ground. Then gathering again into one dense body 
	the Ogygians advance: instantly Tydeus draws 
	his Bistonian blade, great Oeneus’ warlike gift, 
	and attacking every quarter alike confronts now these, 
	now those, and with his sword strikes down their glittering 
590	weapons; their numbers hinder them, and their arms 
	impede each other; no strength is in their efforts, but their blows 
	go astray on their own fellows, and falling they are entangled 
	in their own disorder. He awaits their onset, a narrow mark 
	for javelins, and resists them, firm and unshakeable. 
595	Not otherwise – if Getic Phlegra be worthy credence40  – 
	stood Briareus vast in bulk against embattled heaven, contemning 
	on this hand Phoebus’ quiver, on that the serpents of stern Pallas, 
	here Mars’ Pelethronian pinewood shaft, with point of iron, 
	and yonder the thunderbolt oft changed for new by weary 
600	Pyracmon, and yet complaining, though combated in vain by all Olympus, 
	that so many hands were idle; no fainter was he in ardour, 
	with shield outheld now this way, now that, himself retiring, 
	doubling round, and ever and anon darting on their irresolute lines 
	and pressing his vantage, while he pulls forth the many javelins 
605	that are stuck quivering all about his shield, an armoury for the hero; 
	and many a bitter wound he suffers, yet none gains entrance to life’s secret courses, 
	nor may hope to be deadly. A whirling stroke deals he at raging 
	Deilochus, and bids Phegeus, who threatens attack 
	with axe upraised, go join him beneath the shades, 
610	Dircean Gyas too and Lycophontes of Echionian stock. 
	And now, losing heart, they seek each other and count their numbers, nor feel 
	the same zest for blood, but grieve that so large a band is growing few.
	
	Lo! Chromis, of Tyrian Cadmus’ seed – 
	him once Phoenician Dryope was carrying in her weighted womb, 
615	when revelling bands swept her along forgetful of her burden, 
	and while she was dragging a bull unto thee, O Euhan,41  
	grasping its horns, the babe fell forth by stress of undue striving – 
	Chromis at that time, in bold confidence of spears 
	and hide of captured lion, brandished a stout club of knotted pinewood, 
620	and taunting cried: “Is one man, ye warriors, one man to go to Argos, 
	boasting of so many slain? Scarce will he gain credence on his return! 
	Come, friends, are there none strong in arm or weapon any more? 
	was this our promise to the king, O Cydon? was it this, O Lampus?” 
	While yet he shouts, the Teumesian42  cornel-shaft enters his open mouth, 
625	nor does his throat stay it; his voice is choked, 
	and the sundered tongue floats in the rush of blood. 
	Awhile he stood, till death poured through his limbs, 
	and he fell, and falling was silent, while his teeth bit upon the spear.
	
	You too, O Thespians, why should I deny you and withhold from 
630	honourable renown? Periphas – none of brighter parts than he, 
	or truer devotion – was raising from the ground his brother’s 
	dying frame, his left hand supporting the languid neck, 
	and his right arm about his side; his breast beneath the cuirass 
	is drained by choking sobs of grief, nor can the fastenings restrain 
635	the welling tears that flow from his helm, when amid his deep groans 
	a heavy spear shatters his curved ribs from behind him. 
	Issuing from him it pierces his brother also, and with one weapon unites 
	the kindred breasts.43  The other steadies his swimming eyes, where light still lingered, 
	but beholding his kinsman done to death closes them in darkness. 
640	But he, to whom life remains and strength as yet despite his wound, 
	cries: “Such an embrace, such kisses may thy sons give thee!” 
	So fell they, alike in doom, their vow performed alas! in death, 
	and their eyes closed each by the other’s hand.
	
	But Tydeus, straightway attacking, drove Menoetes with shield 
645	and spear before him terrified, in hurried backward retreat, 
	till stumbling on the uneven ground he lost his footing; 
	then prays he with both hands spread wide in supplication, 
	and pushes away the spear that presses at his throat: 
	“Spare me, I beseech thee by these star-inwoven shades, 
650	by the gods above, and by this night that favours thee: suffer me 
	to bear to Thebes the sad tidings of thy deeds, and in our king’s despite 
	laud thee before our trembling folk; so may our darts fall 
	fruitless and no steel pierce thy breast, 
	and thou return triumphant to thy friend’s desire!” 
655	He finished, but the other with countenance unchanged: 
	“Vain tears thou wastest, and thou, if I mistake not, didst promise 
	my head to the cruel prince. Surrender now thy arms and the light 
	of day! Why seek the gaining of thy craven life? 
	‘Tis wars are waiting.” 44  While yet he speaks, the spear-point returns 
660	thick-clotted with blood. Thereupon with bitter words he pursues 
	the vanquished: “No triennial night or solemn festival 
	are ye keeping now! no orgies of Cadmus do ye behold, 
	no mothers eager to profane Bacchus! 
	Did ye think ye were carrying fawnskins and brittle wands 
665	to your unwarlike music? or were joining the fray that true men 
	know nought of at the sound of Celaeanae’s45  boxwood pipe? 
	Far other carnage is this, far other madness! To death with you, 
	cowards and too few!” So thunders he, but nevertheless his limbs 
	deny him, and the tired blood beast heavy on his heart. 
670	His arm is raised, but falls in idle blows, 
	his steps are slow, nor can his elbow bear the weight of the buckler 
	changed46  by the spoils it bears; the cold sweat pours down 
	his panting breast, and his hair and burning visage stream 
	with gory dew and the foul bespattering of dying bodies: 
675	even as a lion, who had driven the shepherd far from the meadows 
	and taken his fill of Massylian sheep, when his hunger is sated 
	in abundance of blood, and his neck and mane are congealed 
	and heavy with corruption, stands faint in the midst of the slaughter, 
	his mouth agape, fordone with gorging; gone is his savage fury, 
680	he only snaps in the air his empty jaws, and with 
	hanging tongue licks them clean of the soft wool.
	
	Rich in spoils and bloodshed, he would even have gone 
	to Thebes, and vaunted his triumph before astonished prince 
	and people, hadst not thou, Tritonian maid,47  deemed worthy 
685	of thy counsel the hero, still ardent and all dazed 
	by his deeds: “Scion of proud Oeneus, 
	to whom just now, though far away, we granted victory 
	over Thebes, set now a limit, and strain no more the gods’ 
	undue favour; seek only credence for these toils. 
690	Depart, having sued thy fortune to the full.” There yet remained, 
	an unwilling survivor of his comrades’ slaughter, 
	Maeon, the son of Haemon; all this he had foreseen, taught of omens 
	from the air nor deceived by any bird; 
	nor had he feared to deter his chieftain, but the fates deprived 
695	his warnings of belief. His doom is to be pitied as 
	a useless life; in terror he receives Tydeus’ stern behest: 
	“Whosoever of the Aonians thou art, whom saved by my bounty 
	from uttermost darkness to-morrow’s Dawn shall yet behold, 
	this message I command thee to carry to thy prince: Raise a mound 
700	about your gates, renew your weapons, see to your old and mouldering walls, 
	mind above all to marshall your men in close array 
	and press troop on troop; look now at this field, everywhere 
	smoking from my sword: even so do we make war!”
	
	So speaking, he prepares for thee, O Pallas, of thy deserving 
705	a fair guerdon from the gory rout, and in joy collects 
	the booty lying there and surveys all his mighty deeds. 
	Upon a hillock in mid-plain there was an oak tree, long time 
	forgetful of its tender youth, with curving boughs and rude strength 
	of trunk and thick encompassing bark. 
710	To this he brings and fastens smooth helmets and armour pierced 
	by many a stroke, to this he binds swords that his blows have broken short 
	and spears pulled out from limbs yet breathing. 
	Standing then on the heap of arms and bodies he thus begins, 
	while night and the long ridges make echo to his prayer: 
715	“Stern goddess, glory and wisdom of they mighty sire, 
	powerful in war, thou on whose cheeks the terrible splendour of thy 
	grim casque and blood-besprinkled Gorgon glow fierce with rage, - 
	nor did ever Mavors or Bellona with her battle-spear inspire 
	more furious trumpet-blasts – look favourably on this offering, 
720	whether thou comest from Pandion’s hill48  to be present at 
	my night of triumph, or whether thou dost turn aside from thy glad dances 
	in Aonian Itone,49  or hast washed and combed thy hair again 
	in Libyan50  Triton’s waters, whither the fleet axle of thy inviolate mares 
	doth speed thee shouting loud upon thy two-horsed chariot; 
725	now do we dedicate to thee the shattered spoils and shapeless armour 
	of heroes. But should I come to my native Parthaonian fields,51  
	and Martian Pleuron throw wide her gates for my returning, 
	then in the midst of the city’s hills will I consecrate to thee 
	a golden temple, where it may be thy pleasure to look down upon 
730	Ionian storms, and where turbulent Achelous with yellow head 
	tossed high disturbs the deep, and leaves the barrier of the Echinades behind. 
	Here will I carve ancestral wars and the awful visages 
	of great-hearted kings, and arms will I hang in the proud shrines, 
	arms that I myself bore home and gained at my own blood’s cost, 
735	and those that thou, Tritonian maid, shalt give when Thebes is taken. 
	A hundred Calydonian maidens there, votaries of thy virgin altars, 
	shall duly twine thee Attic torches, and weave 
	from thy chaste olive-tree purple fillets set off with snow-white wool; 
	an aged priestess shall tend a never-failing fire upon the hearths, 
740	and hold in continual reverence thy mystic sanctities. 
	Thou as of old shalt win in war and in peace rich first-fruits 
	of my labours, nor shall Diana be offended.” 52  
	So prayed he, and set out again for pleasant Argos.