THE PHŒNICIAN MAIDENS.
35
Eteokles.
These thou never more shalt see.
Polyneikes.
O my sisters!
Eteokles.
Why dost call on these, their bitterest enemy?
Polyneikes.
Farewell, O my mother!
Jocasta.
Sooth, my son, in gladness well I fare!
Polyneikes.
Son of thine no more!—
Jocasta.
For many a sorrow me my mother bare!
Polyneikes.
Since he doth me foul despite!
Eteokles.
For foul despite received, I wis!620
Polyneikes.
Where before the towers wilt plant thee?
Eteokles.
Wherefore dost thou question this?
