The powers who hold by might the sway.
Thou hast withstood authority,
A self-willed rebel, thou must die.
ANTIGONE
Unwept, unwed, unfriended, hence I go,
No longer may I see the day's bright eye;
Not one friend left to share my bitter woe,
And o'er my ashes heave one passing sigh.
CREON
If wail and
lamentation aught availed
To stave off death, I trow they'd never end.
Away with her, and having walled her up
In a rock-vaulted tomb, as I ordained,
Leave her alone at liberty to die,
Or, if she choose, to live in solitude,
The tomb her
dwelling. We in either case
Are
guiltless as concerns this
maiden's blood,
Only on earth no
lodging shall she find.
ANTIGONE
O grave, O
bridal bower, O prison house
Hewn from the rock, my
everlasting home,
Whither I go to join the
mighty host
Of kinsfolk, Persephassa's guests long dead,
The last of all, of all more miserable,
I pass, my destined span of years cut short.
And yet good hope is mine that I shall find
A
welcome from my sire, a
welcome too,
From thee, my mother, and my brother dear;
From with these hands, I laved and decked your limbs
In death, and poured libations on your grave.
And last, my Polyneices, unto thee
I paid due rites, and this my recompense!
Yet am I justified in wisdom's eyes.
For even had it been some child of mine,
Or husband mouldering in death's decay,
I had not
wrought this deed
despite the State.
What is the law I call in aid? 'Tis thus
I argue. Had it been a husband dead
I might have wed another, and have borne
Another child, to take the dead child's place.
But, now my sire and mother both are dead,
No second brother can be born for me.
Thus by the law of
conscience I was led
To honor thee, dear brother, and was judged
By Creon
guilty of a heinous crime.
And now he drags me like a criminal,
A bride unwed, amerced of marriage-song
And marriage-bed and joys of motherhood,
By friends deserted to a living grave.
What
ordinance of heaven have I transgressed?
Hereafter can I look to any god
For
succor, call on any man for help?
Alas, my piety is
impious deemed.
Well, if such justice is approved of heaven,
I shall be taught by
suffering my sin;
But if the sin is
theirs, O may they suffer
No worse ills than the wrongs they do to me.
CHORUS
The same ungovernable will
Drives like a gale the
maiden still.
CREON
Therefore, my guards who let her stay
Shall smart full sore for their delay.
ANTIGONE
Ah, woe is me! This word I hear
Brings death most near.
CHORUS
I have no comfort. What he saith,
Portends no other thing than death.
ANTIGONE
My fatherland, city of Thebes divine,
Ye gods of Thebes
whencesprang my line,
Look, puissant lords of Thebes, on me;
The last of all your royal house ye see.
Martyred by men of sin, undone.
Such meed my piety hath won.
[Exit ANTIGONE]
CHORUS
(Str. 1)
Like to thee that
maiden bright,
Danae, in her brass-bound tower,
Once exchanged the glad sunlight
For a cell, her
bridal bower.
And yet she
sprang of royal line,
My child, like thine,
And nursed the seed
By her conceived
Of Zeus descending in a golden shower.
Strange are the ways of Fate, her power
Nor
wealth, nor arms
withstand, nor tower;
Nor brass-prowed ships, that breast the sea
From Fate can flee.
(Ant. 1)
Thus Dryas' child, the rash Edonian King,
For words of high disdain
Did Bacchus to a rocky
dungeon bring,
To cool the
madness of a fevered brain.
His
frenzy passed,
He
learnt at last
'Twas
madness gibes against a god to fling.
For once he fain had quenched the Maenad's fire;
And of the tuneful Nine provoked the ire.
(Str. 2)
By the Iron Rocks that guard the double main,
On Bosporus' lone strand,
Where stretcheth Salmydessus' plain
In the wild Thracian land,
There on his borders Ares witnessed
The
vengeance by a
jealous step-dame ta'en
The gore that trickled from a
spindle red,
The sightless orbits of her step-sons twain.
(Ant. 2)
Wasting away they mourned their piteous doom,
The blasted issue of their mother's womb.
But she her lineage could trace
To great Erecththeus' race;
Daughter of Boreas in her sire's vast caves
Reared, where the
tempest raves,
Swift as his horses o'er the hills she sped;
A child of gods; yet she, my child, like thee,
By Destiny
That knows not death nor age--she too was vanquished.
[Enter TEIRESIAS and BOY]
TEIRESIAS
Princes of Thebes, two wayfarers as one,
Having betwixt us eyes for one, we are here.
The blind man cannot move without a guide.
CREON
Why
tidings, old Teiresias?
TEIRESIAS
I will tell thee;
And when thou hearest thou must heed the seer.
CREON
Thus far I ne'er have disobeyed thy rede.
TEIRESIAS
So hast thou steered the ship of State aright.
CREON
I know it, and I
gladly own my debt.
TEIRESIAS
Bethink thee that thou treadest once again
The razor edge of peril.
CREON
What is this?
Thy words
inspire a dread presentiment.
TEIRESIAS
The divination of my arts shall tell.
Sitting upon my
throne of augury,
As is my wont, where every fowl of heaven
Find harborage, upon mine ears was borne
A jargon strange of twitterings, hoots, and screams;
So knew I that each bird at the other tare
With
bloody talons, for the whirr of wings
Could
signifynaught else. Perturbed in soul,
I straight essayed the sacrifice by fire
On blazing altars, but the God of Fire
Came not in flame, and from the thigh bones dripped
And sputtered in the ashes a foul ooze;
Gall-bladders
cracked and spurted up: the fat
Melted and fell and left the thigh bones bare.
Such are the signs, taught by this lad, I read--
As I guide others, so the boy guides me--
The
frustrate signs of oracles grown dumb.
O King, thy
willfultemper ails the State,
For all our shrines and altars are profaned
By what has filled the maw of dogs and crows,
The flesh of Oedipus' unburied son.
Therefore the angry gods abominate
Our litanies and our burnt offerings;
Therefore no birds trill out a happy note,
Gorged with the carnival of human gore.
O
ponder this, my son. To err is common
To all men, but the man who having erred
Hugs not his errors, but repents and seeks
The cure, is not a wastrel nor unwise.
No fool, the saw goes, like the
obstinate fool.
Let death
disarm thy
vengeance. O forbear
To vex the dead. What glory wilt thou win
By slaying twice the slain? I mean thee well;
Counsel's most
welcome if I promise gain.
CREON
Old man, ye all let fly at me your shafts
Like anchors at a target; yea, ye set
Your soothsayer on me. Peddlers are ye all
And I the
merchandise ye buy and sell.
Go to, and make your profit where ye will,
Silver of Sardis change for gold of Ind;
Ye will not purchase this man's burial,
Not though the
winged ministers of Zeus
Should bear him in their talons to his
throne;
Not e'en in awe of prodigy so dire
Would I permit his burial, for I know
No human soilure can
assail the gods;
This too I know, Teiresias, dire's the fall
Of craft and
cunning when it tries to gloss
Foul
treachery with fair words for
filthy gain.
TEIRESIAS
Alas! doth any know and lay to heart--
CREON
Is this the prelude to some hackneyed saw?
TEIRESIAS
How far good
counsel is the best of goods?