The Spy monologue — Four Plays of Aeschylus

Eteocles, high king of Cadmus’ folk, I stand here with news certified and sure From Argos’ camp, things by myself descried. Seven warriors yonder, doughty chiefs of might, Into the crimsoned concave of a shield Have shed a bull’s blood, and, with hands immersed Into the gore of sacrifice, have sworn By Ares, lord of fight, and by thy name, Blood-lapping Terror, _Let our oath be heard— Either to raze the walls, make void the hold Of Cadmus—strive his children as they may— Or, dying here, to make the foemen’s land With blood impasted_. Then, as memory’s gift Unto their parents at the far-off home, Chaplets they hung upon Adrastus’ car, With eyes tear-dropping, but no word of moan. For their steeled spirit glowed with high resolve, As lions pant, with battle in their eyes. For them, no weak alarm delays the clear Issues of death or life! I parted thence Even as they cast the lots, how each should lead, Against which gate, his serried company. Rank then thy bravest, with what speed thou may’st, Hard by the gates, to dash on them, for now, Full-armed, the onward ranks of Argos come! The dust whirls up, and from their panting steeds White foamy flakes like snow bedew the plain. Thou therefore, chieftain! like a steersman skilled, Enshield the city’s bulwarks, ere the blast Of war comes darting on them! hark, the roar Of the great landstorm with its waves of men! Take Fortune by the forelock! for the rest, By yonder dawn-light will I scan the field Clear and aright, and surety of my word Shall keep thee scatheless of the coming storm.