he will soon be with us, fear not. For thy name, old man, hath been mightily noised through all lands; so that, even if he is taking his ease, and slow to move, when he hears of thee he will arrive with speed.
Oe. Well, may he come with a blessing to his own city, as to me!—What good man is not his own friend?
An. O Zeus! what shall I say, what shall I think, my father?310
Oe. What is it, Antigone, my child?
An. I see a woman coming towards us, mounted on a colt of Etna; she wears a Thessalian bonnet to screen her face from the sun. What shall I say? Is it she, or is it not? Doth fancy cheat me? Yes—no—I cannot tell—ah me! It is no other—yes!—she greets me with bright glances as she draws nigh,320 and shows that Ismene, and no other, is before me.
Oe. What sayest thou, my child?
An. That I see thy daughter and my sister;—thou canst know her straightway by her voice.
Ismene.
Father and sister, names most sweet to me! How hardly have I found you! and now I scarce can see you for my tears.
Oe. My child, thou hast come? Is. Ah, father, sad is thy fate to see!
Oe. Thou art with us, my child! Is. And it hath cost me toil.
Oe. Touch me, my daughter! Is. I give a hand to each.
