Chorus: (chanting) 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, Polyneices, 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?
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.
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