ANT. I will not urge you! no! nor if now you list To help me, will your help afford me joy. Be what you choose to be! This single hand Shall bury our lost brother. Glorious For me to take this labour and to die! Dear to him will my soul be as we rest In death, when I have dared this holy crime. My time for pleasing men will soon be over; Not so my duty toward the Dead! My home Yonder will have no end. You, if you will, May pour contempt on laws revered on High. ISM. Not from irreverence. But I have no strength To strive against the citizens' resolve. ANT. Thou, make excuses! I will go my way To raise a burial-mound to my dear brother. ISM. Oh, hapless maiden, how I fear for thee! ANT. Waste not your fears on me! Guide your own fortune. ISM. Ah! yet divulge thine enterprise to none, But keep the secret close, and so will I. ANT. O Heavens! Nay, tell! I hate your silence worse; I had rather you proclaimed it to the world. ISM. You are ardent in a chilling enterprise. ANT. I know that I please those whom I would please. ISM. Yes, if you thrive; but your desire is bootless. ANT. Well, when I fail I shall be stopt, I trow! ISM. One should not start upon a hopeless quest. ANT. Speak in that vein if you would earn my hate And aye be hated of our lost one. Peace! Leave my unwisdom to endure this peril; Fate cannot rob me of a noble death. ISM. Go, if you must--Not to be checked in folly, But sure unparalleled in faithful love! [_Exeunt_ CHORUS (_entering_). Beam of the mounting Sun! I 1 O brightest, fairest ray Seven-gated Thebe yet hath seen! Over the vale where Dirce's fountains run At length thou appearedst, eye of golden Day, And with incitement of thy radiance keen Spurredst to faster flight The man of Argos hurrying from the fight. Armed at all points the warrior came, But driven before thy rising flame He rode, reverting his pale shield, Headlong from yonder battlefield. In snow-white panoply, on eagle wing, [_Half-Chorus_ He rose, dire ruin on our land to bring, Roused by the fierce debate Of Polynices' hate, Shrilling sharp menace from his breast, Sheathed all in steel from crown to heel, With many a plumed crest. Then stooped above the domes, I 2 With lust of carnage fired, And opening teeth of serried spears Yawned wide around the gates that guard our homes; But went, or e'er his hungry jaws had tired On Theban flesh,--or e'er the Fire-god fierce Seizing our sacred town Besmirched and rent her battlemented crown. Such noise of battle as he fled About his back the War-god spread; So writhed to hard-fought victory The serpent[1] struggling to be free.