OED. Well, may he come to bless his city and me! When hath not goodness blessed the giver of good?
ANT. O Heavens! What shall I say, what think, my father?
ANT. I see A woman coming toward us, mounted well On a fair Sicilian palfrey, and her face With brow-defending hood of Thessaly Is shadowed from the sun. What must I think? Is it she or no? Can the eye so far deceive? It is. 'Tis not. Unhappy that I am, I know not.--Yes, 'tis she. For drawing near She greets me with bright glances, and declares Beyond a doubt, Ismene's self is here.
ANT. That I see thy child, My sister. Soon her voice will make thee sure.
ISMENE. Father and sister!--names for ever dear! Hard hath it been to find you, yea, and hard I feel it now to look on you for grief.
ISM. Ay, and to bring thee tidings, With the only slave whom I could trust.
OED. And they, Thy brethren, what of them? Were they not there To take this journey for their father's good?
ISM. Ask not of them. Dire deeds are theirs to day.
OED. How in all points their life obeys the law Of Egypt, where the men keep house and weave Sitting within doors, while the wives abroad Provide with ceaseless toil the means of life. So in your case, my daughters, they who should Have ta'en this burden on them, bide at home Like maidens, while ye take their place, and lighten My miseries by your toil. Antigone, E'er since her childhood ended, and her frame Was firmly knit, with ceaseless ministry Still tends upon the old man's wandering, Oft in the forest ranging up and down Fasting and barefoot through the burning heat Or pelting rain, nor thinks, unhappy maid, Of home or comfort, so her father's need Be satisfied. And thou, that camest before, Eluding the Cadmeans, and didst tell me What words Apollo had pronounced on me. And when they banished me, stood'st firm to shield me, What news, Ismene, bring'st thou to thy sire To day? What mission sped thee forth? I know Thou com'st not idly, but with fears for me.
ISM. Father, I will not say what I endured In searching out the place that sheltered thee. To tell it o'er would but renew the pain. But of the danger now encompassing Thine ill starred sons,--of that I came to speak. At first they strove with Creon and declared The throne should be left vacant and the town Freed from pollution,--paying deep regard In their debate to the dark heritage Of ruin that o'ershadowed all thy race. Far different is the strife which holds them now, Since some great Power, joined to their sinful mind, Incites them both to seize on sovereign sway. Eteocles, in pride of younger years, Robbed elder Polynices of his right, Dethroned and banished him. To Argos then Goes exiled Polynices, and obtains Through intermarriage a strong favouring league, Whose word is, 'Either Argos vanquishes The seed of Cadmus or exalts their fame' This, father, is no tissue of empty talk, But dreadful truth, nor can I tell where Heaven Is to reveal his mercy to thy woe.