TUTTI. The issue of war with the gods abideth, The doubtful struggle great Jove decideth. O Onca, blest Onca,[n14] whose worshippers ever Invoke thee, the queen of the Oncan gate, The seven-gated city deliver, deliver,[n15] Thou guardian queen of the gate. V. _The_ CHORUS _unite again into a full band, and sing the Finale of the Litany in regular Strophe and Antistrophe._ STROPHE. Gods and goddesses almighty! Earthly and celestial powers! Of all good things consummators, Guardians of the Theban towers! Save the spear-encompassed city From a foreign-speaking foe![n16] Hear the virgin band, that prays thee With the out-stretched arms of woe! ANTISTROPHE. Gods and demigods! the city Aid that on your aid depends, Watch around us, and defend us; He is strong whom God defends. Bear the incense in remembrance Of our public sacrifice; From a people rich in offerings Let no prayer unanswered rise! [_Re-enter_ ETEOCLES. ETEOCLES. Answer me this, insufferable brood! Is this your wisdom, this your safety-note {268} To Theban soldiers, this your war-cry, thus In prostrate woe clasping the guardian gods, To scream and wail the vain lament of fools? I pray the gods, in good or evil days, May never fate be mine to lodge with women. When fortune's brave, their pride's unbearable; But, comes a thought of fear, both hall and forum Must ring with their laments. Why run ye thus From street to street, into the hearts of men Scattering dastardy, and bruiting fear? Nay, but ye chiefly help the enemy's cause Without the gate, and we by friends within Are more besieged; such aid expect from women! Thebans give ear; whoso shall disobey My word in Thebes, man, woman, old, or young, Whoe'er he be, against himself he writes Black sentence to be stoned by the public hand. Without the gates let brave men fight; within Let women tend their children, and their webs. Hear ye, or hear ye not? or do I speak To the deaf? STROPHE I. CHORUS. Son of Oedipus be witness! Should not terror rob our wits, When we hear the roll of chariots, Whirling wheels, and creaking axles, And the unresting tramp of horses Champing fierce their fire-forged bits? ETEOCLES. What then? when with the storm the good ship labours, Shall the wise helmsman leave his proper post, To clasp the painted gods upon the prow?[n17] ANTISTROPHE I. CHORUS. When we heard war's rattling hail-drift Round our ramparts wildly rave, Trusting to the gods of Cadmus, Spurred by fear, we hither hurried, Here to pray, and clasp the statues Of the good gods strong to save. ETEOCLES. Pray that our well-manned walls be strong to save us, Else will the gods help little. Who knows not That, when a city falls, they pass to the Victor?[n18] {269}