Euripides' PHOENISSAE Complete

Translated by E. Coleridge.

Euripides Bilingual Anthology  Studies  Euripides in Print

81 pages - You are on Page 79

Antigone: To wretched exile go thy way; stretch forth thy hand, my
aged sire, taking me to guide thee, like a breeze that speedeth barques.

Oedipus: See, daughter, I am advancing; be thou my guide, poor child.

Antigone: Ah, poor indeed! the saddest maid of all in Thebes.

Oedipus: Where am I planting my aged step? Bring my staff, child.

Antigone: This way, this way, father mine! plant thy footsteps here,
like dream for all the strength thou hast.

Oedipus: Woe unto thee that art driving my aged limbs in grievous
exile from their land! Ah me! the sorrows I endure!

Antigone: "Endure"! why speak of enduring? Justice regardeth not the
sinner and requiteth not men's follies.

Oedipus: I am he whose name passed into high songs of victory because
I guessed the maiden's baffling riddle.

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