Page:Tragedies of Sophocles (Plumptre 1878).djvu/232

134 So loud the battle din

That Ares loves was raised around his rear,

A conflict hard e'en for his dragon foe.

For breath of haughty speech

Zeus hateth evermore;

And seeing them advance,

With mighty rushing stream,

And clang of golden arms,

With brandished fire he hurls

One who rushed eagerly

From topmost battlement

To shout out, "Victory!"

Crashing to earth he fell,

Down-smitten, with his torch,

Who came, with madman's haste,

Drunken, with frenzied soul,

And swept o'er us with blasts,

The whirlwind blasts of hate.

Thus on one side they fare,

And Ares great, like war-horse in his strength,

Smiting now here, now there,

Brought each his several fate.

For seven chief warriors at the seven gates met,

Equals with equals matched,

To Zeus, the Lord of War,

Left tribute, arms of bronze;

All but the hateful ones,