144 SOPHOCLES
Who came, with madman's haste,
Drunken, with frenzied soul,
And swept o'er us with blasts,
The whirlwind blasts of hate.
Thus on one side they fare, iso
And Ares great, like war-horse in his strength,
Smiting now here, now there.
Brought each his several fate. For seven chief warriors at the seven gates met,
Equals with equals matched, 155
To Zeus, the Lord of War,
Left tribute, arms of bronze ;
All but the hateful ones. Who, from one father and one mother sprung.
Stood wielding, hand to hand, 16O
Their two victorious spears. And had their doom of death as common lot.
Antistrophe II.
But now, since Victory,
Of mightiest name, hath come
To Thebes, of chariots proud, les
Joying and giving joy.
After these wars just past,
Learn ye forgetfulness, And all night long, with dance and voice of hymns,
Let us go round in state no
To all the shrines of Gods, While Bacchus, making Thebes resound with dance,
Begins the strain of joy.
But, lo ! our country's king,
Creon, Menoekeus' son, 175
New ruler, by new change,
And providence of God,
