Chorus
Alas! my son, to sorrow I bare thee and carried thee within my womb, enduring the pangs of travail; but now Hades takes the fruit of all my hapless toil, and I that; had a son am left, ah me! with none to nurse my age.
Theseus As for the noble son of Oecleus, him, while yet he lived, the gods snatched hence to the bowels of the earth, and. his chariot too, manifestly blessing him; while I myself may truthfully tell the praises of the son of Oedipus, that is, Polynices, for he was my guest-friend ere he left the town of Cadmus and crossed to Argos in voluntary exile. But dost thou know what I would have thee do in this matter?
Adrastus I know naught save this,—to yield obedience to thy hests.
Theseus As for yon Capaneus, stricken by the bolt of Zeus—
Adrastus Wilt bury him apart as a consecrated corpse?
Theseus Even so; but all the rest on one funeral pyre.
Adrastus Where wilt thou set the tomb apart for him?
Theseus Here near this temple have I builded him a sepulchre.
Adrastus Thy thralls forthwith must undertake this toil.
Theseus Myself will look to those others; let the biers advance.
Adrastus Approach your sons, unhappy mothers.
Theseus This thy proposal, Adrastus, is anything but good.
Adrastus Must not the mothers touch their sons?
Theseus It would kill them to see how they are altered.
Adrastus ’Tis bitter, truly, to see the dead even at the moment of death.
Theseus Why then wilt thou add fresh grief to them?
Adrastus Thou art right. Ye needs must patiently abide, for the words of Theseus are good. But when we have committed them unto the flames, ye shall collect their bones. O wretched sons of men! Why do ye get you weapons and bring slaughter on one another? Cease therefrom, give o’er your toiling, and in mutual peace keep safe your cities. Short is the span of life, so ’twere best to run its course as lightly as we may, from trouble free.
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