Page:Sophocles (Storr 1912) v1.djvu/197



In his ancestral seat; a messenger,

The same who sent us here, is gone for him.

And think you he will have such care or thought

For the blind stranger as to come himself?

Ay, that he will, when once he learns thy name.

But who will bear him word!

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.

Well, may he come with blessing to his State

And me! Who serves his neighbour serves himself.

Zeus! What is this? What can I say or think?

W hat now, Antigone?

I see a woman

Hiding upon a colt of Aetna’s breed;

She wears for headgear a Thessalian hat

To shade her from the sun. Who can it be?

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