E’er since her childhood ended, and her frame
Was firmly knit, with ceaseless ministry
Still tends upon the old man’s wandering,
Oft in the forest ranging up and down
Fasting and barefoot through the burning heat
Or pelting rain, nor thinks, unhappy maid,
Of home or comfort, so her father’s need
Be satisfied.  And thou, that camest before,
Eluding the Cadmeans, and didst tell me
What words Apollo had pronounced on me. 
And when they banished me, stood’st firm to shield me,
What news, Ismene, bring’st thou to thy sire
To day?  What mission sped thee forth?  I know
Thou com’st not idly, but with fears for me.

ISM.  Father, I will not say what I endured
In searching out the place that sheltered thee. 
To tell it o’er would but renew the pain. 
But of the danger now encompassing
Thine ill starred sons,—­of that I came to speak. 
At first they strove with Creon and declared
The throne should be left vacant and the town
Freed from pollution,—­paying deep regard
In their debate to the dark heritage
Of ruin that o’ershadowed all thy race. 
Far different is the strife which holds them now,
Since some great Power, joined to their sinful mind,
Incites them both to seize on sovereign sway. 
Eteocles, in pride of younger years,
Robbed elder Polynices of his right,
Dethroned and banished him.  To Argos then
Goes exiled Polynices, and obtains
Through intermarriage a strong favouring league,
Whose word is, ’Either Argos vanquishes
The seed of Cadmus or exalts their fame’
This, father, is no tissue of empty talk,
But dreadful truth, nor can I tell where Heaven
Is to reveal his mercy to thy woe.

OED. And hadst thou ever hoped the Gods would care
For mine affliction, and restore my life?

ISM.  I hope it now since this last oracle.

OED. What oracle hath been declared, my child?

ISM.  That they shall seek thee forth, alive or dead,
To bring salvation to the Theban race.

OED. Who can win safety through such help as mine?

ISM.  ’Tis said their victory depends on thee.

OED. When shrunk to nothing, am I indeed a man?

ISM.  Yea, for the Gods uphold thee, who then destroyed.

OED. Poor work, to uphold in age who falls when young!

ISM.  Know howsoe’er that Creon will be here
For this same end, ere many an hour be spent.

OED. For what end, daughter?  Tell me in plain speech.

ISM.  To set thee near their land, that thou may’st be
Beyond their borders, but within their power.

OED. What good am I, thus lying at their gate?

ISM.  Thine inauspicious burial brings them woe.

OED. There needs no oracle to tell one that.

ISM.  And therefore they would place thee near their land,
Where thou may’st have no power upon thyself.