Dear, let us hasten back. Ismene. To do what deed? Antigone A longing fills my soul— Ismene. For what? Antigone To see the netherworld home. Ismene. Of whom? Antigone Wretched me! Of our father. Ismene. And how can this be right? Surely you understand? Antigone Why this rebuke? Ismene. And surely you know this, too—