Chorus: The way is long, And many travellers pass to speed the news. Be sure he’ll hear and hasten, never fear; So wide and far thy name is noised abroad, That, were he ne’er so spent and loth to move, He would bestir him when he hears of thee.
Oedipus: Well, may he come with blessing to his State And me! Who serves his neighbour serves himself.
Antigone: Zeus! What is this? What can I say or think?
Oedipus: What now, Antigone?
Antigone: I see a woman Riding upon a colt of Aetna’s breed; She wears for headgear a Thessalian hat To shade her from the sun. Who can it be? She or a stranger? Do I wake or dream? ’Tis she; ’tis not—I cannot tell, alack; It is no other! Now her bright’ning glance Greets me with recognition, yes, ’tis she, Herself, Ismene!
Oedipus: Ha! what say ye, child?
Antigone: That I behold thy daughter and my sister, And thou wilt know her straightway by her voice.
Enter Ismene.
Ismene: Father and sister, names to me most sweet, How hardly have I found you, hardly now When found at last can see you through my tears!
Oedipus: Art come, my child?
Ismene: O father, sad thy plight!
Oedipus: Child, thou art here?
Ismene: Yes, ’twas a weary way.
Oedipus: Touch me, my child.
Ismene: I give a hand to both.
Oedipus: O children—sisters!
Ismene: O disastrous plight!
Oedipus: Her plight and mine?
Ismene: Ay, and my own no less.
Oedipus: What brought thee, daughter?
Ismene: Father, care for thee.
Oedipus: A daughter’s yearning?
Ismene: Yes, and I had news I would myself deliver, so I came With the one thrall who yet is true to me.
Oedipus: Thy valiant brothers, where are they at need?
Ismene: They are—enough, ’tis now their darkest hour.