ISM. What can life profit me without my sister?

CR. Say not 'my sister'; she is nothing now.

ISM. What? wilt thou kill thy son's espousal too?

CR. He may find other fields to plough upon.

ISM. Not so as love was plighted 'twixt them twain.

CR. I hate a wicked consort for my son.

ANT. O dearest Haemon! how thy father wrongs thee!

CR. Thou and thy marriage are a torment to me.

CH. And wilt thou sever her from thine own son?

CR. 'Tis death must come between him and his joy,

CH. All doubt is then resolved: the maid must die,

CR. I am resolved; and so, 'twould seem, are you.
In with her, slaves! No more delay! Henceforth
These maids must have but woman's liberty
And be mewed up; for even the bold will fly
When they see Death nearing the house of life.
[ANTIGONE _and_ ISMENE _are led into the palace._

CHORUS.