STROPHE II. CHORUS. Never, never may the council Of the assembled gods desert us, While I live, and look on day! Never, never may the stranger Rush through the streets, while midnight burning Lights the robber to his prey! ETEOCLES. Weak prayers confound wise counsel. Know ye not Obedience is the mother of success, And pledge of victory. So the wise have spoken. ANTISTROPHE II. CHORUS. But the gods are strong. When mortals Stretch the arm in vain to save us, Help is waiting from above. When dark night enveils the welkin, And thick-mantled ruin gathers, They enclasp us round with love. ETEOCLES. Leave sacrifice and oracles to men, And 'gainst the imminent foe pray to the gods. Women should hold their tongues, and keep their homes. STROPHE III. CHORUS. By the strength of gods the city Each rude tide hath learnt to stem; Who shall charge us with offending, When we make our vows to them? ETEOCLES. Your vows I grudge not, nor would stint your prayers; But this I say, blow not your fears about, Nor taint the general heart with apprehension. ANTISTROPHE III. CHORUS. Startled by the blare of battle, Hearing clash of combat fell, With a quaking heart I hied me To this sacred citadel. ETEOCLES. And when ye hear that some are dead or wounded, Drag not the news with wailings through the town; For blood of mortals is the common food[n19] Of the war god. CHORUS. Hark! the angry steeds are snorting. ETEOCLES. Hear what thou wilt; but do not hear aloud. CHORUS. The Earth beneath me groans, the wall is shaking. {270} ETEOCLES. The walls are mine to uphold. Pray you, be silent. CHORUS. Woe's me, the clash of arms, loud and more loud, Rings at the gate! ETEOCLES. And thou the loudest!--Peace! CHORUS. Great council of the gods, O save us! save us! ETEOCLES. Perdition seize thee! thy words flow like water. CHORUS. O patron gods, save me from captive chains! ETEOCLES. Thy fear makes captive me, and thee, and all. CHORUS. O mighty Jove, fix with thy dart the foe! ETEOCLES. O Jove, of what strange stuff hast thou made women! CHORUS. Men are no better, when their city's captured. ETEOCLES. Dost clasp the gods again, and scream and howl? CHORUS. Fear hurries on my overmastered tongue. ETEOCLES. One small request I have; beseech you hear me. CHORUS. Speak: I am willing, if I can, to please thee. ETEOCLES. Please me by silence; do not fright thy friends. CHORUS. I speak no more: and wait my doom with them.