No More Learning

the air is distraught with the spears,
And whither doth destiny drive us,
and where is the goal of our fears?
The blast of the terrible stones
on the ridge of our wall is not stayed,
At the gates is the brazen clash
of the bucklers--Apollo to aid!
Thou too, O daughter of Zeus,
who guidest the wavering fray
To the holy decision of fate,
Athena! be with us to-day!
Come down to the sevenfold gates
and harry the foemen away!
O gods and O sisters of gods,
our bulwark and guard! we beseech
That ye give not our war-worn hold
to a rabble of alien speech!
List to the call of the maidens,
the hands held up for the right,
Be near us, protect us, and show
that the city is dear in your sight!

Have heed for her sacrifice holy,
and thought of her offerings take,
Forget not her love and her worship,
be near her and smite for her sake!
[_Re-enter_ ETEOCLES.
ETEOCLES

Hark to my question, things detestable!
Is this aright and for the city's weal,
And helpful to our army thus beset,
That ye before the statues of our gods
Should fling yourselves, and scream and shriek your fears?
Immodest, uncontrolled! Be this my lot--
Never in troublous nor in peaceful days
To dwell with aught that wears a female form!
Where womankind has power, no man can house,
Where womankind feeds panic, ruin rules
Alike in house and city!
Look you now--
Your flying feet, and rumour of your fears,
Have spread a soulless panic on our walls,
And they without do go from strength to strength,
And we within make breach upon ourselves!
Such fate it brings, to house with womankind.
Therefore if any shall resist my rule--
Or man, or woman, or some sexless thing--
The vote of sentence shall decide their doom,
And stones of execution, past escape,
Shall finish all. Let not a woman's voice
Be loud in council! for the things without,
A man must care; let women keep within--
Even then is mischief all too probable!
Hear ye? or speak I to unheeding ears?

CHORUS

Ah, but I shudder, child of Oedipus!
I heard the clash and clang!
The axles rolled and rumbled; woe to us
Fire-welded bridles rang!

ETEOCLES

Say--when a ship is strained and deep in brine,
Did e'er a seaman mend his chance, who left
The helm, t'invoke the image at the prow?

CHORUS

Ah, but I fled to the shrines, I called to our helpers on high,
When the stone-shower roared at the portals!
I sped to the temples aloft, and loud was my call and my cry,
_Look down and deliver. Immortals_!

ETEOCLES

Ay, pray amain that stone may vanquish steel!
Were not that grace of gods?