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: Antistrophe 2
Fear not, maids—
Antigone: Ah, whither flee?
Chorus: Refuge hath been found.
Antigone: For me?
Chorus: Where thou shalt be safe from harm.
Antigone: I know it.
Chorus: Why then this alarm?
Antigone: How again to get us home I know not.
Chorus: Why then roam?
Antigone: Troubles whelm us—
Chorus: As of yore.
Antigone: Worse than what was worse before.
Chorus: Sure ye are driven on the breakers’ surge.
Antigone: Alas! we are.
Chorus: Alas! ’tis so.
Antigone: Ah whither turn, O Zeus? No ray Of hope to cheer the way Whereon the fates our desperate voyage urge.
Enter Theseus.
Theseus: Dry your tears; when grace is shed On the quick and on the dead By dark Powers beneficent, Over-grief they would resent.
Antigone: Aegeus’ child, to thee we pray.
Theseus: What the boon, my children, say.