what hard affliction is foreign to him, what suffering does he not know? Envy, factions, strife, battles,and murders. Last of all falls to his lot old age, blamed, weak, unsociable, friendless, wherein dwells every misery among miseries.

ChorusIn such years is this poor man here, not I alone.Like some cape that fronts the north which is lashed on every side by the waves of winter, so he also is fiercely lashed evermore by the dread disasters that break on him like the surf, some from the region of the setting sun,some from that of its rising, some in the realm of its noon-time rays, some from the gloom-wrapped hills of the North.

AntigoneLook, the stranger, it seems, is coming here to us.Yes, without attendants, father, with tears streaming from his eyes.OedipusWho is he?AntigoneThe very man who was in our thoughts from the first. Polyneices has come to us.Enter Polyneices.PolyneicesAh, me, what should I do? Should I weep firstfor my own woes, sisters, or for those of my father here, in his old age? I have found him in a foreign land, here with you two as an exile, clad in such garments as these. Their unfriendly filth has resided with the old man for long,