SEMI-CHORUS 2. And wailing follows from the halls The dismal bier; Wailing and woe the heart-strings breaking, And sorrow from its own self taking The food it feeds on, moody sadness, Shunning all sights and sounds of gladness, And from the eye spontaneous bringing No practised tear; {289} My heart within me wastes, beholding This dismal bier. ANTISTROPHE III. SEMI-CHORUS 1. And on the bier we drop the tear And justly say, SEMI-CHORUS 2. To friend and foe, they purchased woe And wail to-day. SEMI-CHORUS 1. And to Hades showed full many the road In the deadly fray. SEMI-CHORUS 2. O ill-starred she!--there hath not been Nor will be more, Of sore-tried women children-bearing, One like her, like sorrow sharing. With her own body's fruit she joined Wedlock in most unholy kind, And to her son, twin sons the mother, O monstrous! bore: And here they lie, by brother brother Now drenched in gore. STROPHE IV. SEMI-CHORUS 1. Ay, drenched in gore, in brothered gore,[n44] Weltering they lie; Mad was the strife, and sharp the knife That bade them die. SEMI-CHORUS 2. The strife hath ceased: life's purple flood The dry Earth drinks; And kinsman's now to kinsman's blood Keen slaughter links. The far sea stranger forged i' the fire The pointed iron soothed their ire. A bitter soother! Mars hath made A keen division Of all their lands, and lent swift wing To the curse that came from the blind old king With harsh completion. ANTISTROPHE IV. SEMI-CHORUS 1. They strove for land, and did demand An equal share; In the ground deep, deep, where now they sleep, There's land to spare. {290} SEMI-CHORUS 2. A goodly crop to you hath grown Of woe and wailing; Ye reaped the seed by Laius sown, The god prevailing. Shrill yelled the curse, a deathful shout, And scattered sheer in hopeless rout The kingly race did fall; and lo! Fell Até planteth Her trophy at the gate; and there Triumphant o'er the princely pair Her banner flaunteth. [ANTIGONE _and_ ISMENE _now come forward, and standing beside the dead bodies, pointing now to the one, and now to the other, finish the Wail as chief mourners._ PRELUDE. ANTIGONE. Wounded, thou didst wound again. ISMENE. Thou didst slay, and yet wert slain. ANTIGONE. Thou didst pierce him with the spear. ISMENE. Deadly-pierced thou liest here. ANTIGONE. Sons of sorrow! ISMENE. Sons of pain! ANTIGONE. Break out grief! ISMENE. Flow tears amain! ANTIGONE. Weep the slayer. ISMENE. And the slain. STROPHE. ANTIGONE. Ah! my soul is mad with moaning. ISMENE. And my heart within is groaning. ANTIGONE. O thrice-wretched, wretched brother!