ANTIGONE.
Not hate but love to share my nature is.
CREON.
Go, then, below and love, if love thou wilt,
But while I live no woman shall reign here.
CHORUS.
(ISMENE entering)
Ismene, lo! before the gate appears,
A sister's grief o'erflowing in her tears;
The cloud of sorrow gathered on her face
Bedews her roseate cheek and mars its grace.
CREON.
(To ISMENE.)
And thou, too, in my home a lurking snake?
Didst drain my heart's blood, while I little thought
That I was cherishing two traitress fiends?
Wast thou a party to this burial,
Or wilt thou swear that thou art innocent?
ISMENE.
I did take part, if she will say I did,
And am content to bear my share of blame.