酷兔英语

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he turned my foe, I loved him, yes! in spite of all. Bury me, mother

mine, and thou, my sister dear, in my native soil; pacify the city's



wrath that may get at least that much of my own fatherland, although I

lost my home. With thy hand, mother, close mine eyes (therewith he



himself places her fingers on the lids); and fare ye well; for already

the darkness wraps me round."



So both at once breathed out their life of sorrow. But when

their mother saw this sad mischance, in her o'ermastering grief she



snatched from a corpse its sword and wrought an awful deed, driving

the steel right through her throat; and there she lies, dead with



the dead she loved so well, her arms thrown round them both.

Thereon the host sprang to their feet and fell to wrangling, we



maintaining that victory rested with my master, they with theirs;

and amid our leaders the contention raged, some holding that



Polyneices gave the first wound with his spear, others that, as both

were dead, victory rested with neither. Meantime Antigone crept away



from the host; and those others rushed to their weapons, but by some

lucky forethought the folk of Cadmus had sat down under arms; and by a



sudden attack we surprised the Argive host before it was fully

equipped. Not one withstood our onset, and they filled the plain



with fugitives, while blood was streaming from the countless dead

our spears had slain. Soon as victory crowned our warfare, some



began to rear an image to Zeus for the foe's defeat, others were

stripping the Argive dead of their shields and sending their spoils



inside the battlements; and others with Antigone are bringing her dead

brothers hither for their friends to mourn. So the result of this



struggle to our city hovers between the two extremes of good and

evil fortune.



(The MESSENGER goes out.)

CHORUS (chanting)



No longer do the misfortunes of this house extend to hearsay only;

three corpses of the slain lie here at the palace for all to see,



who by one common death have passed to their life of gloom.

(During the lament, ANTIGONE enters, followed by servants who hear



the bodies Of JOCASTA, ETEOCLES, and POLYNEICES.)

ANTIGONE (chanting)



No veil I draw o'er my tender cheek shaded with its clustering

curls; no shame I feel from maidenmodesty at the hot blood mantling



'neath my eyes, the blush upon my face, as I hurry wildly on in

death's train, casting from my hair its tire and letting my delicate



robe of saffron hue fly loose, a tearful escort to the dead. Ah me!

Woe to thee, Polyneices! rightly named, I trow; woe to thee,



Thebes! no mere strife to end in strife was thine; but murder

completed by murder hath brought the house of Oedipus to ruin with



bloodshed dire and grim. O my home, my home! what minstrel can I

summon from the dead to chant a fitting dirge o'er my tearful fate, as



I bear these three corpses of my kin, my mother and her sons,

welcome sight to the avenging fiend that destroyed the house of



Oedipus, root and branch, in the hour that his shrewdness solved the

Sphinx's riddling rhyme and slew that savage songstress. Woe is me! my



father! what other Hellene or barbarian, what noble soul among the

bygone tribes of man's poor mortal race ever endured the anguish of



such visible afflictions?

Ah! poor maid, how piteous is thy plaint! What bird from its



covert 'mid the leafy oak or soaring pine-tree's branch will come to

mourn with me, the maid left motherless, with cries of woe, lamenting,



ere it comes, the piteous lonely life, that henceforth must be

always mine with tears that ever stream? On which of these corpses



shall I throw my offerings first, plucking the hair from my head? on

the breast of the mother that suckled me, or beside the ghastly



death-wounds of my brothers' corpses? Woe to thee, Oedipus, my aged

sire with sightless orbs, leave thy roof, disclose the misery of thy



life, thou that draggest out a weary existence within the house,

having cast a mist of darkness o'er thine eyes. Dost hear, thou



whose aged step now gropes its way across the court, now seeks

repose on wretched pallet couch?



(OEDIPUS enters from the palace. He chants the following lines

responsively with ANTIGONE.)



OEDIPUS

Why, daughter, hast thou dragged me to the light, supporting my



blind footsteps from the gloom of my chamber, where I lie upon my

bed and make piteous moan, a hoary sufferer, invisible as a phantom of



the air, or as a spirit from the pit, or as a dream that flies?

ANTIGONE



Father, there are tidings of sorrow for thee to bear; no more

thy sons behold the light, or thy wife who ever would toil to tend thy



blind footsteps as with a staff. Alas for thee, my sire!




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