If thou wert not at hand. Oh, bitter price And hard, that I must pay for sight of thee. But still there's pleasure in't. These hostile hosts-- 525 Let them withdraw a little space from here, While yet stern Mars dares no impiety. Yet this as well is great impiety, That they have been so near. I am appalled, And tremble when I see two brothers stand, Each fronting each, upon the brink of crime. 530 My limbs do quake with fear. How near I came To seeing greater infamy than that Which thy poor father never could have seen! Though I am freed from fear of such a crime, Though I shall not behold such evil now, Still am I most unhappy when I think How nearly I beheld it. O my son, By the womb that bore thee through ten weary months, 535 And by thy noble sister's piety; By thy unhappy father's sightless eyes, Which he, though innocent of any crime, Tore out, his fatal error to avenge: Turn from thy father's walls these impious brands, 540 Send back the standards of this warring host. Though thou shouldst yield, still is the greater part Of thy impiety already done: Thy fatherland has seen its fertile plains By hordes of hostile soldiery o'errun, The arméd legions gleaming from afar, 545 The broad Cadmean meadows trampled down By flying hoofs, the princes, insolent, High in their chariots dashing o'er the plain, The blazing torches threatening our homes With utter devastation, and, a crime Which even Thebes till now has never seen, A brother 'gainst his brother waging war. This crime was seen by all our Theban host; 550 The citizens and both thy sisters saw, And I thy mother; to himself is due That Oedipus, thy father, saw it not. Oh, do thou but compare thyself with him, By whose stern judgment fitting penalty E'en error pays. Do not with impious sword 555 Destroy thy city and thy father's house, Nor overthrow the city thou wouldst rule. What madness holds its sway within thy soul? Wouldst thou, by seeking to obtain the land, Destroy it? That it may become thine own, Dost thou intend to spoil it utterly? To thine own cause thou doest deadly wrong, In harrying this very soil of thine 560 With hostile arms, in laying low the crops, And spreading fear through all the country round. No one such devastation ever works Upon his own. What thou dost burn with fire, And reap with sword, 'tis plain that thou dost grant To be another's. Gain thou then the throne, Whichever of you will; but gain it so That 'twill not be the kingdom's overthrow. 565 Dost seek these homes with hostile sword and brand? Wilt thou avail to batter down these walls Which great Amphion built, these mighty walls, Whose stones no human hand e'er set in place,