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His father's city and his father's gods,

And glut his vengeance with his kinsmen's blood,
Or drag them captive at his chariot wheels--

For Polyneices 'tis ordained that none
Shall give him burial or make mourn for him,

But leave his corpse unburied, to be meat
For dogs and carrion crows, a ghastly sight.

So am I purposed; never by my will
Shall miscreants take precedence of true men,

But all good patriots, alive or dead,
Shall be by me preferred and honored.

CHORUS
Son of Menoeceus, thus thou will'st to deal

With him who loathed and him who loved our State.
Thy word is law; thou canst dispose of us

The living, as thou will'st, as of the dead.
CREON

See then ye execute what I ordain.
CHORUS

On younger shoulders lay this grievous charge.
CREON

Fear not, I've posted guards to watch the corpse.
CHORUS

What further duty would'st thou lay on us?
CREON

Not to connive at disobedience.
CHORUS

No man is mad enough to court his death.
CREON

The penalty _is_ death: yet hope of gain
Hath lured men to their ruin oftentimes.

[Enter GUARD]
GUARD

My lord, I will not make pretense to pant
And puff as some light-footed messenger.

In sooth my soul beneath its pack of thought
Made many a halt and turned and turned again;

For conscience plied her spur and curb by turns.
"Why hurry headlong to thy fate, poor fool?"

She whispered. Then again, "If Creon learn
This from another, thou wilt rue it worse."

Thus leisurely I hastened on my road;
Much thought extends a furlong to a league.

But in the end the forward voice prevailed,
To face thee. I will speak though I say nothing.

For plucking courage from despair methought,
'Let the worst hap, thou canst but meet thy fate.'

CREON
What is thy news? Why this despondency?

GUARD
Let me premise a word about myself?

I neither did the deed nor saw it done,
Nor were it just that I should come to harm.

CREON
Thou art good at parry, and canst fence about

Some matter of grave import, as is plain.
GUARD

The bearer of dread tidings needs must quake.
CREON

Then, sirrah, shoot thy bolt and get thee gone.
GUARD

Well, it must out; the corpse is buried; someone
E'en now besprinkled it with thirsty dust,

Performed the proper ritual--and was gone.
CREON

What say'st thou? Who hath dared to do this thing?
GUARD

I cannot tell, for there was ne'er a trace
Of pick or mattock--hard unbroken ground,

Without a scratch or rut of chariot wheels,
No sign that human hands had been at work.

When the first sentry of the morning watch
Gave the alarm, we all were terror-stricken.

The corpse had vanished, not interred in earth,
But strewn with dust, as if by one who sought

To avert the curse that haunts the unburied dead:
Of hound or ravening jackal, not a sign.

Thereat arose an angry war of words;
Guard railed at guard and blows were like to end it,

For none was there to part us, each in turn
Suspected, but the guilt brought home to none,

From lack of evidence. We challenged each
The ordeal, or to handle red-hot iron,

Or pass through fire, affirming on our oath
Our innocence--we neither did the deed

Ourselves, nor know who did or compassed it.
Our quest was at a standstill, when one spake

And bowed us all to earth like quivering reeds,
For there was no gainsaying him nor way

To escape perdition: _Ye_are_bound_to_tell_
_The_King,_ye_cannot_hide_it_; so he spake.

And he convinced us all; so lots were cast,
And I, unlucky scapegoat, drew the prize.

So here I am unwilling and withal
Unwelcome; no man cares to hear ill news.

CHORUS
I had misgivings from the first, my liege,

Of something more than natural at work.
CREON

O cease, you vex me with your babblement;
I am like to think you dote in your old age.

Is it not arrant folly to pretend
That gods would have a thought for this dead man?

Did they forsooth award him special grace,
And as some benefactor bury him,

Who came to fire their hallowed sanctuaries,
To sack their shrines, to desolate their land,

And scout their ordinances? Or perchance
The gods bestow their favors on the bad.

No! no! I have long noted malcontents
Who wagged their heads, and kicked against the yoke,

Misliking these my orders, and my rule.
'Tis they, I warrant, who suborned my guards

By bribes. Of evils current upon earth
The worst is money. Money 'tis that sacks

Cities, and drives men forth from hearth and home;
Warps and seduces native innocence,

And breeds a habit of dishonesty.
But they who sold themselves shall find their greed

Out-shot the mark, and rue it soon or late.
Yea, as I still revere the dread of Zeus,

By Zeus I swear, except ye find and bring
Before my presence here the very man

Who carried out this lawless burial,
Death for your punishment shall not suffice.

Hanged on a cross, alive ye first shall make
Confession of this outrage. This will teach you

What practices are like to serve your turn.
There are some villainies that bring no gain.

For by dishonesty the few may thrive,
The many come to ruin and disgrace.

GUARD
May I not speak, or must I turn and go

Without a word?--
CREON

Begone! canst thou not see
That e'en this question irks me?

GUARD
Where, my lord?

Is it thy ears that suffer, or thy heart?
CREON

Why seek to probe and find the seat of pain?
GUARD

I gall thine ears--this miscreant thy mind.
CREON

What an inveterate babbler! get thee gone!
GUARD

Babbler perchance, but innocent of the crime.
CREON

Twice guilty, having sold thy soul for gain.
GUARD

Alas! how sad when reasoners reason wrong.
CREON

Go, quibble with thy reason. If thou fail'st
To find these malefactors, thou shalt own

The wages of ill-gotten gains is death.
[Exit CREON]

GUARD
I pray he may be found. But caught or not

(And fortune must determine that) thou never
Shalt see me here returning; that is sure.

For past all hope or thought I have escaped,
And for my safety owe the gods much thanks.

CHORUS
(Str. 1)

Many wonders there be, but naught more wondrous than man;
Over the surging sea, with a whitening south wind wan,

Through the foam of the firth, man makes his perilous way;
And the eldest of deities Earth that knows not toil nor decay

Ever he furrows and scores, as his team, year in year out,
With breed of the yoked horse, the ploughshare turneth about.

(Ant. 1)
The light-witted birds of the air, the beasts of the weald and the wood

He traps with his woven snare, and the brood of the briny flood.
Master of cunning he: the savage bull, and the hart

Who roams the mountain free, are tamed by his infinite art;
And the shaggy rough-maned steed is broken to bear the bit.

(Str. 2)
Speech and the wind-swift speed of counsel and civic wit,

He hath learnt for himself all these; and the arrowy rain to fly
And the nipping airs that freeze, 'neath the open winter sky.

He hath vision" target="_blank" title="n.供应;规定;条款">provision for all: fell plague he hath learnt to endure;
Safe whate'er may befall: yet for death he hath found no cure.

(Ant. 2)
Passing the wildest flight thought are the cunning and skill,

That guide man now to the light, but now to counsels of ill.
If he honors the laws of the land, and reveres the Gods of the State

Proudly his city shall stand; but a cityless outcast I rate
Whoso bold in his pride from the path of right doth depart;

Ne'er may I sit by his side, or share the thoughts of his heart.
What strange vision meets my eyes,

Fills me with a wild surprise?
Sure I know her, sure 'tis she,

The maid Antigone.
Hapless child of hapless sire,

Didst thou recklessly conspire,
Madly brave the King's decree?

Therefore are they haling thee?
[Enter GUARD bringing ANTIGONE]

GUARD
Here is the culprit taken in the act



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