then, my mother's attempt at consolation was so successful an antidote, that it almost made me laugh. I can scarcely tell what one ought to feel towards one's father, for, you know, mine died when I was quite a child; but I think if I had been in Antigone's place, I should not have been so calm as she was.

Atys is gone to the palæstra. There are to be several noble youths there to-day, so my mother would comb and arrange his hair herself, that he might not seem inferior to any one of his companions. He, thinking only of the sport that she was keeping him from, bore the delay very impatiently, and at last hurried off before she had finished.

What does the king your brother say to the reception which Polynices has received from the ruler of Argos? Atys says, that the messenger did not tell you all.

Your brother arrived at the palace late at night, worn out, and exhausted by the fatigues of a tempestuous day. Unwilling to disturb the attendants, he endeavoured to gain some rest in the vestibule; but scarcely had he lain down, when Tydeus arrived in the same plight as himself. You may well suppose, that being both of them wet through, weary, and hungry, they were not in the most amiable of moods. Such a temper never needs a pretext for a quarrel. Cross though they were at first, they soon became savage.

From words they came to blows, and who knows how it might have ended, if the noise they made had not broken the disturbed slumbers of the old king. When the doors were opened, and he appeared before them, they left off their amusement, and, after a mutual explanation and reconciliation, were by him conducted in.

ISMENE TO CLEODOXE.

Indeed you do not understand Antigone. Had you but seen her when the companion of my father's exile; how carefully she tended him-how patiently she bore with his complaints-how she not only yielded, but never even appeared to know that she was without those indulgences which they say that we women cannot dispense with,—you would not, indeed you would not, think that Antigone was devoid of feeling.

I shall never forget with what a radiant smile she welcomed me when I joined her in Colonus. I never knew how much she loved me till then, when I had braved Creon's anger to go to my father; nor did she then say much to me, but grasped my hand, and gave me a look so full of meaning, and seemed so proud of me, that I was quite overcome.

She was so anxious, too, that my father should notice and speak

kindly to me; so careful to prevent my being wounded by his harsh words, that I cannot bear to hear her called unfeeling. When we lost him- but let us talk no more of this subject, Cleodoxe; it is too fresh upon my memory.

You will remember our noticing the delight with which my cousin Hæmon seemed to be filled upon Antigone's safe return from Attica. He has since made many pretexts for obtaining admission into her society, which his relationship renders the more easy for him to do. This morning he came in my brother's company, and brought with him a most beautiful fawn-skin vest as a present for Antigone. I was with her at the time. She received it in a kind manner, and said that she would wear it at the next festival of Bacchus ; but yet she did not behave as if conscious of his attachment to her, even though it was betrayed so clearly by his looks and his confusion, that not only I, but all our maidens, saw it.

I

I am sure, if Atys; but you are his sister, and will tell him what

say.

Does Antigone really not perceive it, do you think?

Perhaps it may be so; for she is so humble that she cannot underderstand how it is that people admire her; and while all Thebes is ringing with her praise, and all the matrons are pointing her out as an example to their daughters, she sits down quietly to her loom, and listens patiently to all the scoldings of our old nurse, Aglaura.

And yet I often fancy that she has a little pride, too. I should like very much, indeed, to know whether she is aware of Hæmon's love for her, but she will not talk about him; and when she is in her reserved and silent mood, there is something about her that almost, shall I say, overawes me. Perhaps it is because she is the elder.

One of my maidens shall bring you this letter. think of Hæmon's visit.

CLEODOXE TO ISMENE.

Tell me what you

Do you ask me what I think of Hæmon's visit? Well, then, my mother says, that if Eteocles accompanied him when he made your sister the present of a fawn-skin, it must be a settled thing; and I am of my mother's opinion.

Let me tell you that my mother is a very clever woman in judging of such matters. There's not a match that has been made in Thebes for the last ten years, that she has not had something to do with. If one may believe her own story, she knew of some before the parties themselves ever thought about it. She will not rest now till she has got to

the bottom of this affair; and as she cannot keep a secret, why, you may consider the labyrinth as already laid open.

She has set Atys to work by saying that you were anxious on the subject; and as he is intimate with Hæmon's brother, Menæceus, no doubt she expects to learn something from that quarter. She makes herself believe that all she is doing is out of kindness to Antigone; and keeps saying, "Poor girl, she has no one to care for her now. I must be a mother to her," &c. It was with the greatest difficulty that I dissuaded her from going instantly to the palace, to talk it over with your sister. What a strange scene there would have been if she had!

Hæmon is a very noble fellow, and so is his brother. Atys says that nobody would think them the sons of Creon, in spite of their personal resemblance, were it not that beneath all their affability and gentleness they both conceal that determination of character, which in so many of your relations is carried to so faulty an excess.

You do then fancy that Antigone is not without her share of pride? I, for my part, am sure that she is very proud. I do not accuse her of being proud of her descent, or of her rank; at least she never offended me by any such display, nor indeed do I see how she could, since you know, Ismene, that we descendants of Amphion do not yield even to the offspring of Labdacus in the dignity of our birth; but you will yourself remember how haughtily she looked and spoke when she overheard the remarks of the crowd as we were going to the temple the other day. You know, too, the air of superiority she sometimes puts on towards myself and some of the other young Theban ladies in whose society she mixes; and all, I suppose, because we are not always willing to give up talking and laughing, to listen to the long strains and the eternal lyre of that blind old bard whom she so idolizes.

But I know that you do not like to hear any one speak of Antigone except in terms of praise; so I will write no more.

I stay my messenger to tell you that my mother has just come in. She is very cross, so I suppose has not succeeded in getting the information that was wanted. No matter, she will not have spent her time to no purpose, and now your cousin, prince Hæmon, will not be able to do anything without its being known by some of the old ladies whose inquisitive eyes my mother has opened.

ISMENE TO CLEODOXE.

My dear Cleodoxe. If you wish me to forgive you all that you have written about my sister, hasten directly to the palace.

There has

ceme a letter from Polynices to Antigone. How it reached her I do not know. She has let me read it; I am at a loss to decide whether its contents ought to make me glad or sorry. Come and help me to decide. Do come.

POLYNICES TO ANTIGONE.

At length, my dearest sister, the fates have ceased to frown upon the exiled son of Edipus. A stranger king and a foreign race have raised up him, whom his own brother, in his native city, trampled under foot. You may have heard some rumour of the unexpected good fortune which has attended us here. The king and his people have vied with one another in the kindness of their welcome. They strive incessantly to drive away from my mind the melancholy remembrance of my country lost, the home no longer mine, the sceptre torn from my grasp, the brothers no more akin in heart, the sisters beloved whose voices shall never again fall sweetly upon mine ear. They tell me that Argos shall henceforth be my home, and that here I shall soon forget in the happiness of the present the miseries of the past.

And may I not listen to the words of consolation which they offer? May I not hope that resting here in a retreat honourable and secure, the time will at length arrive when he who has injured me will be compelled by the gods, the lovers of justice, to forego the power and the dignity so impiously acquired, and Polynices grasp again his rightful sceptre, and gaze once more upon the plains, and mountains, and streams, that surrounded the seven-gated city, and clasp in his arms once more a sister who shrinks not from avowing her attachment to the vanquished and the exiled?

Little did I think, Antigone, when I arrived here weary and desolate, scarce hoping to obtain more than a refuge from present distress, that I was destined to obtain at Argos, and that so quickly, a hospitable home, a royal father-in-law, and a youthful bride.

On our first entrance into the palace, which was at night, no sooner had the glare of the torches and lamps fallen upon our persons, and the garb which we wore, than Adrastus appeared to be struck with some sudden and unaccountable astonishment.

Prince Tydeus who had fled from Calydon hither, to seek from Adrastus, like myself, protection and assistance, looked at me as if to gather from my countenance an explanation of the mystery. Unable to unfold it, we awaited the issue. Our curiosity, however, remained for some time ungratified, and in truth was soon forgotten in the midst

of the confusion, and the hurry of preparation which our arrival had caused. Soon the king, calling for an aged woman from among the attendants, whispered something in her ear; upon which, retiring into the interior of the palace, she presently returned with two young maidens, whom we learnt to be the daughters of Adrastus, and whose beauty and grace of mien alone bespoke them of no ignoble origin. At first, Antigone, believe me, their appearance roused no other feeling in my breast than a vivid recollection of that beloved sister fair, from whom I had been so lately torn; but I was soon attracted by the respectful affection with which they saluted Adrastus; and when they became aware of our presence, the retiring modesty of their deportment, and the blushes which chased one another over their cheeks, giving way sometimes to a marble paleness, riveted my gaze and my admiration upon them. Bearing a close resemblance in feature and expression, yet was there a something in the gentleness of Argia which created in my mind an interest with respect to her, more restless and absorbing than that which I felt about the younger, Deiphyle. Nor did my friend regard them with an indifferent eye. From the moment of their entrance his attention was fixed upon them, and admiration was so visibly displayed in his countenance, as he gazed alternately upon each, that the comparative calm of my own mind was for a moment disturbed by a slight breathing of something like jealousy, which however gradually subsided, as his glances, after wavering irresolutely for a time, were at length fixed upon the winning playfulness of Deiphyle. Few were the moments

in which I indulged in vain regret or useless admiration. The bitter thought that Polynices was an exile, dependent upon another for the very means of supporting life, banished from my mind all gentler thoughts. Casting my eyes upon the ground, I gave way to the flood of unwelcome reflections that swept across my mind, nor would I look again upon that lovely vision, that seemed as if sent by a Fate unwearied in its malignancy, to make by the contrast of its unearthly and unreal beauty more dismal the darkness of my condition.

Before the gloom of my despondency was dissipated, the two maidens had retired; and when, raising my eyes once more, I missed them from the assemblage, the regret which I perceived to arise from the disappointment caused me much uneasiness and self-reproach. So light, Polynices, are then thy misfortunes, that they can be effaced from thy memory by the looks of a stranger maiden, but once beheld! So little dost thou cherish in thy heart the undying love of Antigone, that thou canst for one moment, dazzled by a radiance which shines on others as on thee, cease to dwell upon that love.