Capitolo 80
THE SPY
Well I have analyzed the enemy, and well you/he/she can say
To that head, from destiny that every gate is given.
Tydeus already with his to assault-whine
Storms to the gate called Proetides; but him
The clairvoyant to that Amphiaraus holds halt,
Neither the wishes that he should cross the ford of Ismenus,
Until the sacrifices they correctly promise.
But Tydeus, angry with lust of blood and cooked food to alive fire,
Now likes to a basilisk to of noontide,
You whistle out anger and hits with scourge of language
The prophet-child of Oecleus--_Wise you the art,
Faint against war, and holding again from death_!
With such strong revilings on his/her lips
Him slap the triple pens that the o'er his/her rudder
Craft darkening, as the mane of a courser;
And to the edge of his/her shield, terror in their tone,
Din and it reverberates the similar bells to brass.
And this proud signal, beaten on his/her shield, he is born,--
The time of sky, engraved with ardent stars;
And, for the head, the bright moon burns to full,
The eye at night, the first one and star of lordliest.
This way with him he/she tall-boasted of armor, madly daring,
Him clamours from the brook-bank, wild for war,
As a steed that he/she severely pants on his/her bit,
Held in and rubbing for the braying of the trumpet!
Who fade you set against him? when the gates
Of product of Proetus that its rush can reject?
ETEOCLES
To me, any coat of arms on the shield of a foeman
E'ers introduce a fear! such pointed threats
It is weak to wound; his/her pens and bells,
Without a lance, it is snakes without a sting.
No, more--that parade of what you the tellest--
The nighttime sky exposed, shining with stars,
On his/her shield, it quibbles with double sense--
A stubborn fool will find soon his/her truth!
For, if fallen evening on his/her eyes in death,
Yon the vainglorious wish of coat of arms its his/her own truth tries,
And he is prophet of the fall of his/her folly.
Mine are able him/it both, to mail against his/her power