And now the sea of evil pours its flood: This falling, others rise, As with a triple crest, Which round the State's stern roars: And but a bulwark slight, A tower's poor breadth, defends: 760 And lest the city fall With its two kings I fear. STROPHE IV *And that atonement of the ancient curse Receives fulfilment now;[118] *And when they come, the evils pass not by. E'en so the wealth of sea-adventurers, When heaped up in excess, Leads but to cargo from the stern thrown out.[119] ANTISTROPHE IV For whom of mortals did the Gods so praise, And fellow-worshippers, 770 *And race of those who feed their flocks and herds[120] As much as then they honoured Œdipus, Who from our country's bounds Had driven the monster, murderess of men? STROPHE V And when too late he knew, Ah, miserable man! his wedlock dire, Vexed sore with that dread shame, With heart to madness driven, He wrought a twofold ill, And with the hand that smote his father's life 780 *Blinded the eyes that might his sons have seen. ANTISTROPHE V And with a mind provoked By nurture scant, he at his sons did hurl[121] His curses dire and dark, (Ah, bitter curses those!) That they with spear in hand Should one day share their father's wealth; and I Fear now lest swift Erinnys should fulfil them. _Enter_ Messenger _Mess._ Be of good cheer, ye maidens, mother-reared; Our city has escaped the yoke of bondage, 790 The boasts of mighty men are fallen low, And this our city in calm waters floats, And, though by waves lashed, springs not any leak. Our fortress still holds out, and we did guard The gates with champions who redeemed their pledge. In the six gateways almost all goes well; But the seventh gate did King Apollo choose,[122] Seventh mighty chief, avenging Laios' want Of counsel on the sons of Œdipus. _Chor._ What new disaster happens to our city?[123] 800 _Mess._ The city's saved, but both the royal brothers,... _Chor._ Who? and what of them? I'm distraught with fear. _Mess._ Be calm, and hear: the sons of Œdipus,... _Chor._ Oh wretched me! a prophet I of ill! _Mess._ Slain by each other, earth has drunk their blood. _Chor._ Came they to that? 'Tis dire; yet tell it me. _Mess._ Too true, by brother's hand our chiefs are slain. _Chor._ What, did the brother's hands the brother lay? _Mess._ No doubt is there that they are laid in dust. _Chor._ Thus was there then a common fate for both? _Mess._ *Yea, it lays low the whole ill-fated race.