Eteocles monologue — Specimens of Greek Tragedy — Aeschylus and Sophocles

O madness of the wicked, heaven-abhorred! O hapless race of Oedipus my sire, Alas! a father's curse is here fulfilled. But now away with tears, away with wails, Lest a worse cause of lamentation come. For Polynices, all too truly named, [Footnote: The last part of the name means _strife_.] Soon shall he know what his device portends, And whether golden letters on his shield, Vaunt as they may, shall bring the boaster home. Perchance if Justice, virgin child of Zeus, Were in his thoughts and deeds, so it might be; But neither when he issued from the womb, Nor in his childhood's days, nor in his youth, Nor since the beard has gathered on his chin, Has Justice e'er vouchsafed a word to him. Nor now, when on his native soil he treads In enmity, is Justice at his side. Nor could the deity deserve her name If she could be a miscreant's paramour. Herein I put my trust, and will myself Accept this combat; better right has none; Chieftains alike we meet, brethren we are And deadly enemies. My armour, ho!