Ismene. I did the deed; if she concurs,—I share
My part and bear the burden of the charge.
Antigone. But justice will not, though I should, consent;
Since you would not, no share can I allow.
Ismene. Yet in thy troubles I am not ashamed
To make myself the sharer of thy doom.
Antigone. The dead and Hades know who did the deed;
I love not her who loves in words alone.
Ismene. Refuse not, sister, my entreaty now
To die with thee and consecrate the dead.
Antigone. Nay, share not thou my death, and do not claim
The deeds untouched by thee! Suffice my death.
Ismene. What joy in life for me bereft of thee?
Antigone. Ask Creon. He is thy concern and care.
Ismene. When naught is to be gained, why pain me thus?
Antigone. Pain truly do I feel, if I mock thee.
Ismene. O how can I but serve thee even now?
Antigone. By ’scaping death thyself—I grudge it not.
Ismene. Ah! Must I acquiesce, not die with thee?
Antigone. Thy choice was made to live, but mine to die.
Ismene. But not without my protest made that choice.
Antigone. Thy course was praised by these, by those my own.
Ismene. Yet thy offense no greater is than mine.
Antigone. Be brave, and live—my soul hath long been dead
That so I might now chiefly serve those gone.
Creon. Of these two maidens one has lost her wits,
The other had none from her day of birth.
Ismene. The sense that one is born with ne’er abides,
O king, but leaves its seat, when mishap comes.
Creon. Yours did, when you mishapped to do misdeeds.
Ismene. What life is life to me, bereft of her?
