As stubborn steers, by brawny ploughmen broke, And join'd reluctant to the galling yoke, Alike disdain with servile necks to bear Th' unwonted weight, or drag the crooked share, But rend the reins, and bound a different way, And all the furrows in confusion lay: Such was the discord of the royal pair 190 Whom fury drove precipitate to war. In vain the chiefs contrived a specious way To govern Thebes by their alternate sway: Unjust decree! while this enjoys the state, That mourns in exile his unequal fate, And the short monarch of a hasty year Foresees with anguish his returning heir. Thus did the league their impious arms restrain, But scarce subsisted to the second reign.
Yet then no proud aspiring piles were raised, 200 No fretted roofs with polish'd metals blazed; No labour'd columns in long order placed, No Grecian stone the pompous arches graced: No nightly bands in glittering armour wait Before the sleepless tyrant's guarded gate; No chargers then were wrought in burnish'd gold, Nor silver vases took the forming mould; Nor gems on bowls emboss'd were seen to shine, Blaze on the brims, and sparkle in the wine-- Say, wretched rivals! what provokes your rage? 210 Say, to what end your impious arms engage? Not all bright Phoebus views in early morn, Or when his evening beams the west adorn, When the south glows with his meridian ray, And the cold north receives a fainter day; For crimes like these, not all those realms suffice, Were all those realms the guilty victor's prize!
But Fortune now (the lots of empire thrown) Decrees to proud Eteocles the crown: What joys, O tyrant! swell'd thy soul that day, 220 When all were slaves thou couldst around survey, Pleased to behold unbounded power thy own, And singly fill a fear'd and envied throne!
But the vile vulgar, ever discontent, Their growing fears in secret murmurs vent; Still prone to change, though still the slaves of state, And sure the monarch whom they have, to hate; New lords they madly make, then tamely bear, And softly curse the tyrants whom they fear. And one of those who groan beneath the sway 230 Of kings imposed, and grudgingly obey, (Whom envy to the great, and vulgar spite, With scandal arm'd, th' ignoble mind's delight) Exclaim'd--'O Thebes! for thee what fates remain, What woes attend this inauspicious reign? Must we, alas! our doubtful necks prepare Each haughty master's yoke by turns to bear, And still to change whom changed we still must fear? These now control a wretched people's fate These can divide, and these reverse the state: 240 E'en fortune rules no more--O servile land, Where exiled tyrants still by turns command! Thou sire of gods and men, imperial Jove! Is this th' eternal doom decreed above? On thy own offspring hast thou fix'd this fate From the first birth of our unhappy state, When banish'd Cadmus, wandering o'er the main, For lost Europa search'd the world in vain, And, fated in Boeotian fields to found, A rising empire on a foreign ground, 250 First raised our walls on that ill omen'd plain Where earth-born brothers were by brothers slain? What lofty looks th' unrivall'd monarch bears! How all the tyrant in his face appears! What sullen fury clouds his scornful brow! Gods! how his eyes with threatening ardour glow! Can this imperious lord forget to reign, Quit all his state, descend, and serve again? Yet who, before, more popularly bow'd? Who more propitious to the suppliant crowd? 260 Patient of right, familiar in the throne, What wonder then? he was not then alone. Oh wretched we! a vile, submissive train, Fortune's tame fools, and slaves in every reign!