Page:Tragedies of Sophocles (Plumptre 1878).djvu/222

124 Antig. Yet woes oppress.

Chor. Long since they crushed thee.

Antig. Desperate then; now worse.

Chor. A sea of troubles, then, has been your lot.

Antig. Yea, yea.

Chor. I own it too!

Antig. Ah me! ah me!

Whither to turn, Ο Zeus?

For still, e'en now, the God

Leads me to bodings strange.

Thes. Cease from your weeping, maidens. Over those

For whom the night of death as blessing comes,

We may not mourn. Such grief the Gods chastise.

Antig. Ο son of Ægeus, at thy feet we fall.

Thes. What boon then seek ye, maidens?

Antig. We would see

With our own eyes our father's sepulchre.

Thes. It may not be: ye may not thither go.

Antig. How say'st thou, prince, of Athens lord and king?

Thes. Ο maidens, he forbade that mortal foot

Should e'er draw nigh this spot, or mortal voice

Invoke in prayer the holy burial-place

Where now he lies. And, doing this, he said

That I should rule a land unvexed by ills;

These things our God has heard, and that dread Power,

The Oath of Zeus, that ever heareth all.

Antig. This shall suffice, if this was what he willed.

But send thou us to Thebes of old renown,

That so, if it may be, we stop the death

That comes upon our brothers.