Capitolo 92
Saved by the joke of the servitude: the boasts
Of men of overweening now it is silent,
And the National sails under of a serene sky,
Neither in the manifold one and beating so that
Hath sent only a surge and solid stands
The bastion, and the gates are made sure,
Each with the trusted watch of an only champion.
Then in the principal and to six gates we contain
A victory assured; but, to the seventh one,
The god that was born in the seventh day,
Apollo Reale, hath ta'en on his/her rest
To discharge on the children of Oedipus
The malice of their grandsire of a long time ago.
CHOIR
What further woefulness attacks our house?
THE SPY
The house sustains safe--but ah, the principles two--
CHOIR
Who? thing of them? I am disturbed with fear.
THE SPY
Now feels, and I brand! the children of Oedipus--
CHOIR
Ah, my prophetic soul! I feel their decree.
THE SPY
Has done with questions!--with their lives crushed out--
CHOIR
Do lie out them that? the full horror speaks!
Did hands meet it gives nearer than brotherly?
Done come to the fate on each, and of same time?
THE SPY
Yea, out the lineage sick-adorned of stars!
You now mix Your exultation and Your torn wounds,
On a saved city, the time his/her gentlemen,
Twin leader of the struggle, has out parcelled
With arbitrament forged of the steel of Scythian
The full division of their country of origin,
And, as the curse of their father offered,
It will have their quota of earth a double grave.
Then it is the saved city; earth has drunk
Blood of twin principles, from each other killed.
CHOIR
Or mighty Zeus and the powers of keeper,
The strength and stay of the towers of Cadmus!
I send before a to whine cheerful,
_Hail to the gentleman of weal renewed_?
Or the two illegitimate child cries,
Nato to a fatal destiny?
Each now numbered among I killed him,
Every dying in sick moral courage,
Every _truly named_, every _child of feud_?
Or dark and all-prevailing sick,
That broods o'er Oedipus and all of his/her line,