Page:Tragedies of Sophocles (Plumptre 1878).djvu/158

60 This spot is holy, one may clearly tell,

Full as it is of laurel, olive, vine,

And many a nightingale within sings sweetly.

Rest thy limbs here upon this rough-hewn rock;

Long hast thou travelled, for thine age, to-day.

Œdip. Place me then here, and o'er the blind man watch.

[She leads him to the seat.

Antig. I do not need to learn that lesson now.

Œdip. And can'st thou tell me where we take our stand?

Antig. Athens, I know; but not this very spot.

Œdip. That every traveller told us, as we came.

Antig. But shall I go and ask what place it is?

Œdip. Do so, my child, if men inhabit it.

Antig. Inhabitants there are; and lo! I think

I need not go. One passes by our way.

Œdip. And is he coming this way, hastening here?

Antig. He is close by; and what thou deem'st it right

To speak in season, say. The man is here.

Œdip. My friend, from this girl hearing, who for me

And for herself doth see, that thou art come

A well-timed guide, to tell us where we doubt

''Ath. Str''. Before thou speakest further leave thy seat,

For here thou hold'st a place man may not tread.

Œdip. What is the place? To what God consecrate?

''Ath. Str''. Man comes not here, nor dwells. The Goddesses,

Dread daughters of the Earth and Darkness, claim it.