ANTIGONE.
Where our sire is laid.
ISMENE.
Nay, thou can’st not, dost not see—
ANTIGONE.
Sister, wherefore wroth with me?
ISMENE.
Know’st not—beside—
ANTIGONE.
More must I hear?
ISMENE.
Tombless he died, none near.
ANTIGONE.
Lead me thither; slay me there.
ISMENE.
How shall I unhappy fare,
Friendless, helpless, how drag on
A life of misery alone?
CHORUS.
(Ant. 2)
Fear not, maids—
ANTIGONE.
Ah, whither flee?