ISM. ’Tis said their victory depends on thee.
OED. When shrunk to nothing, am I indeed a man?
ISM. Yea, for the Gods uphold thee, who then destroyed.
OED. Poor work, to uphold in age who falls when young!
ISM. Know howsoe’er that Creon will be here
For this same end, ere many an hour be spent.
OED. For what end, daughter? Tell me in plain speech.
ISM. To set thee near their land, that thou may’st be
Beyond their borders, but within their power.
OED. What good am I, thus lying at their gate?
ISM. Thine inauspicious burial brings them woe.
OED. There needs no oracle to tell one that.