The brood of Curses raise
Their shrill, sharp cry of lamentation loud,
The race being put to flight of utmost rout,
And Atè's trophy stands,
Where in the gates they fell;
And Fate, now both are conquered, rests at last.
950
Enter Antigone and Ismene, followed by mourning
maidens[[130]]
Ant. Thou wast smitten, and thou smotest.