Love, and not hatred, is the part for me.

CR. Down then to death! and, if you must, there love
The dead. No woman rules me while I live.

CH. Now comes Ismene forth. Ah, see,
From clouds above her brow
The sister-loving tear
Is falling wet on her fair cheek,
Distaining all her passion-crimson'd face!

_Enter_ ISMENE.

CR. And thou, that like a serpent coiled i' the house
Hast secretly been draining my life-blood,--
Little aware that I was cherishing
Two curses and subverters of my throne,--
Tell us, wilt thou avouch thy share in this
Entombment, or forswear all knowledge of it?

ISM. If her voice go therewith, I did the deed,
And bear my part and burden of the blame.

ANT. Nay, justice will not suffer that. You would not,
And I refused to make you mine ally.

ISM. But now in thy misfortune I would fain
Embark with thee in thy calamity.

ANT. Who did the deed, the powers beneath can tell.
I care not for lip-kindness from my kin.

ISM. Ah! scorn me not so far as to forbid me
To die with thee, and honour our lost brother.

ANT. Die not with me, nor make your own a deed
you never touched! My dying is enough.

ISM. What joy have I in life when thou art gone?

ANT. Ask Creon there. He hath your care and duty.

ISM. What can it profit thee to vex me so?

ANT. My heart is pained, though my lip laughs at thee.

ISM. What can I do for thee now, even now?

ANT. Save your own life. I grudge not your escape.

ISM. Alas! and must I be debarred thy fate?

ANT. Life was the choice you made. Mine was to die.

ISM. I warned thee----

ANT. Yes, your prudence is admired
On earth. My wisdom is approved below.

ISM. Yet truly we are both alike in fault.

ANT. Fear not; you live. My life hath long been given
To death, to be of service to the dead.

CR. Of these two girls, the one hath lost her wits:
The other hath had none since she was born.

ISM. My lord, in misery, the mind one hath
Is wont to be dislodged, and will not stay.

CR. You have ta'en leave of yours at any rate,
When you cast in your portion with the vile.

ISM. What can life profit me without my sister?

CR. Say not 'my sister'; she is nothing now.

ISM. What? wilt thou kill thy son's espousal too?

CR. He may find other fields to plough upon.

ISM. Not so as love was plighted 'twixt them twain.

CR. I hate a wicked consort for my son.

ANT. O dearest Haemon! how thy father wrongs thee!

CR. Thou and thy marr