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The future will come of itself though I shroud it in silence.
And who would not be angry to hear the words with which you now sslight the city?
Oh, for the gods' love,was the deed my mother's or father's?Speak!
I do not know;he who gave you to me knows more of that than me.
But for my daughters twain, poor innocent maids, Who ever sat beside me at the board Sharing my viands, drinking of my cup, For them, I pray thee, care, and, if thou willst, O might I feel their touch and make my moan. Hear me, O prince, my noble-hearted prince! Could I but blindly touch them with my hands I'd think they still were mine, as when I saw. (ANTIGONE and ISMENE are led in.) What say I? can it be my pretty ones Whose sobs I hear? Has Creon pitied me And sent me my two darlings? Can this be?
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