Antigone: Thou art bringing up again the reproach of the Sphinx. Talk
no more of past success. This misery was in store for thee all the
while, to become an exile from thy country and die thou knowest not
where; while I, bequeathing to my girlish friends tears of sad regret,
must go forth from my native land, roaming as no maiden ought.
Ah! this dutiful resolve will crown me with glory in respect of my
father's sufferings. Woe is me for the insults heaped on thee and
on my brother whose dead body is cast forth from the palace unburied;
poor boy! I will yet bury him secretly, though I have to die for it,
father.
Oedipus: To thy companions show thyself.
Antigone: My own laments suffice.
Oedipus: Go pray then at the altars.
Antigone: They are weary of my piteous tale.
Oedipus: At least go seek the Bromian god in his hallowed haunt amongst
the Maenads' hills.
Studies
