may speak and listen within piety's domain,190 and let us not wage war with necessity.
of rock at the verge of the grove.
ant. 2. Ch. There!—bend not thy steps beyond that floor of native rock.
Oe. Thus far?
Ch. Enough, I tell thee.
Oe. Shall I sit down?
Ch. Yea, move sideways and crouch low on the edge of the rock.
An. Father, this is my task: to quiet step200 (Oe. Ah me! ah me!) knit step, and lean thy aged frame upon my loving arm.
Oe. Woe for the doom of a dark soul!
Ch. Ah, hapless one, since now thou hast ease, speak,—whence art thou sprung? In what name art thou led on thy weary way? What is the fatherland whereof thou hast to tell us?
Oe. Strangers, I am an exile—but forbear. . . . . .
Ch. What is this that thou forbiddest, old man?
Oe. forbear,210 forbear to ask me who I am;—seek—probe—no further!
Ch. What means this? Oe. Dread the birth…
Ch. Speak!
Oe. (to Antigone). My child—alas!—what shall I say?
Ch. What is thy lineage, stranger,—speak!—and who thy sire?
