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    Delphi Complete Works of Sophocles

    Page 7
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      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 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

      Of giving burial. But where’s the King?

      CHORUS

      There from the palace he returns in time.

      [Enter CREON]

      CREON

      Why is my presence timely? What has chanced?

      GUARD

      No man, my lord, should make a vow, for if

      He ever swears he will not do a thing,

      His afterthoughts belie his first resolve.

      When from the hail-storm of thy threats I fled

      I sware thou wouldst not see me here again;

      But the wild rapture of a glad surprise

      Intoxicates, and so I’m here forsworn.

      And here’s my prisoner, caught in the very act,

      Decking the grave. No lottery this time;

      This prize is mine by right of treasure-trove.

      So take her, judge her, rack her, if thou wilt.

      She’s thine, my liege; but I may rightly claim

      Hence to depart well quit of all these ills.

      CREON

      Say, how didst thou arrest the maid, and where?

      GUARD

      Burying the man. There’s nothing more to tell.

      CREON

      Hast thou thy wits? Or know’st thou what thou say’st?

      GUARD

      I saw this woman burying the corpse

      Against thy orders. Is that clear and plain?

      CREON

      But how was she surprised and caught in the act?

      GUARD

      It happened thus. No sooner had we come,

      Driven from thy presence by those awful threats,

      Than straight we swept away all trace of dust,

      And bared the clammy body. Then we sat

      High on the ridge to windward of the stench,

      While each man kept he fellow alert and rated

      Roundly the sluggard if he chanced to nap.

      So all night long we watched, until the sun

      Stood high in heaven, and his blazing beams

      Smote us. A sudden whirlwind then upraised

      A cloud of dust that blotted out the sky,

      And swept the plain, and stripped the woodlands bare,

      And shook the firmament. We closed our eyes

      And waited till the heaven-sent plague should pass.

      At last it ceased, and lo! there stood this maid.

      A piercing cry she uttered, sad and shrill,

      As when the mother bird beholds her nest

      Robbed of its nestlings; even so the maid

      Wailed as she saw the body stripped and bare,

      And cursed the ruffians who had done this deed.

      Anon she gathered handfuls of dry dust,

      Then, holding high a well-wrought brazen urn,

      Thrice on the dead she poured a lustral stream.

      We at the sight swooped down on her and seized

      Our quarry. Undismayed she stood, and when

      We taxed her with the former crime and this,

      She disowned nothing. I was glad — and grieved;

      For ’tis most sweet to ‘scape oneself scot-free,

      And yet to bring disaster to a friend

      Is grievous. Take it all in all, I deem

      A man’s first duty is to serve himself.

      CREON

      Speak, girl, with head bent low and downcast eyes,

      Does thou plead guilty or deny the deed?

      ANTIGONE

      Guilty. I did it, I deny it not.

      CREON (to GUARD)

      Sirrah, begone whither thou wilt, and thank

      Thy luck that thou hast ‘scaped a heavy charge.

      (To ANTIGONE)

      Now answer this plain question, yes or no,

      Wast thou acquainted with the interdict?

      ANTIGONE

      I knew, all knew; how should I fail to know?

      CREON

      And yet wert bold enough to break the law?

      ANTIGONE

      Yea, for these laws were not ordained of Zeus,

      And she who sits enthroned with gods below,

      Justice, enacted not these human laws.

      Nor did I deem that thou, a mortal man,

      Could’st by a breath annul and override

      The immutable unwritten laws of Heaven.

      They were not born today nor yesterday;

      They die not; and none knoweth whence they sprang.

      I was not like, who feared no mortal’s frown,

      To disobey these laws and so provoke

      The wrath of Heaven. I knew that I must die,

      E’en hadst thou not proclaimed it; and if death

      Is thereby hastened, I shall count it gain.

      For death is gain to him whose life, like mine,

      Is full of misery. Thus my lot appears

      Not sad, but blissful; for had I endured

      To leave my mother’s son unburied there,

      I should have grieved with reason, but not now.

      And if in this thou judgest me a fool,

      Methinks the judge of folly’s not acquit.

      CHORUS

      A stubborn daughter of a stubborn sire,

      This ill-starred maiden kicks against the pricks.

      CREON

      Well, let her know the stubbornest of wills

      Are soonest bended, as the hardest iron,

      O’er-heated in the fire to brittleness,

      Flies soonest into fragments, shivered through.

      A snaffle curbs the fieriest steed, and he

      Who in subjection lives must needs be meek.

      But this proud girl, in insolence well-schooled,

      First overstepped the established law, and then —

      A second and worse act of insolence —

      She boasts and glories in her wickedness.

      Now if she thus can flout authority

      Unpunished, I am woman, she the man.

      But though she be my sister’s child or nearer

      Of kin than all who worship at my hearth,

      Nor she nor yet her sister shall escape

      The utmost penalty, for both I hold,

      As arch-conspirators, of equal guilt.

      Bring forth the older; even now I saw her

      Within the palace, frenzied and distraught.

      The workings of the mind discover oft

      Dark deeds in darkness schemed, before the act.

      More hateful still the miscreant who seeks

      When caught, to make a virtue of a crime.

      ANTIGONE

      Would’st thou do more than slay thy prisoner?

      CREON

      Not I, thy life is mine, and that’s enough.

      ANTIGONE

      Why dally then? To me no word of thine

      Is pleasant: God forbid it e’er should please;


      Nor am I more acceptable to thee.

      And yet how otherwise had I achieved

      A name so glorious as by burying

      A brother? so my townsmen all would say,

      Where they not gagged by terror, Manifold

      A king’s prerogatives, and not the least

      That all his acts and all his words are law.

      CREON

      Of all these Thebans none so deems but thou.

      ANTIGONE

      These think as I, but bate their breath to thee.

      CREON

      Hast thou no shame to differ from all these?

      ANTIGONE

      To reverence kith and kin can bring no shame.

      CREON

      Was his dead foeman not thy kinsman too?

      ANTIGONE

      One mother bare them and the self-same sire.

      CREON

      Why cast a slur on one by honoring one?

      ANTIGONE

      The dead man will not bear thee out in this.

      CREON

      Surely, if good and evil fare alive.

      ANTIGONE

      The slain man was no villain but a brother.

      CREON

      The patriot perished by the outlaw’s brand.

      ANTIGONE

      Nathless the realms below these rites require.

      CREON

      Not that the base should fare as do the brave.

      ANTIGONE

      Who knows if this world’s crimes are virtues there?

      CREON

      Not even death can make a foe a friend.

      ANTIGONE

      My nature is for mutual love, not hate.

      CREON

      Die then, and love the dead if thou must;

      No woman shall be the master while I live.

      [Enter ISMENE]

      CHORUS

      Lo from out the palace gate,

      Weeping o’er her sister’s fate,

      Comes Ismene; see her brow,

      Once serene, beclouded now,

      See her beauteous face o’erspread

      With a flush of angry red.

      CREON

      Woman, who like a viper unperceived

      Didst harbor in my house and drain my blood,

      Two plagues I nurtured blindly, so it proved,

      To sap my throne. Say, didst thou too abet

      This crime, or dost abjure all privity?

      ISMENE

      I did the deed, if she will have it so,

      And with my sister claim to share the guilt.

      ANTIGONE

      That were unjust. Thou would’st not act with me

      At first, and I refused thy partnership.

      ISMENE

      But now thy bark is stranded, I am bold

      To claim my share as partner in the loss.

      ANTIGONE

      Who did the deed the under-world knows well:

      A friend in word is never friend of mine.

      ISMENE

      O sister, scorn me not, let me but share

      Thy work of piety, and with thee die.

      ANTIGONE

      Claim not a work in which thou hadst no hand;

      One death sufficeth. Wherefore should’st thou die?

      ISMENE

      What would life profit me bereft of thee?

      ANTIGONE

      Ask Creon, he’s thy kinsman and best friend.

      ISMENE

      Why taunt me? Find’st thou pleasure in these gibes?

      ANTIGONE

      ’Tis a sad mockery, if indeed I mock.

      ISMENE

      O say if I can help thee even now.

      ANTIGONE

      No, save thyself; I grudge not thy escape.

      ISMENE

      Is e’en this boon denied, to share thy lot?

      ANTIGONE

      Yea, for thou chosed’st life, and I to die.

      ISMENE

      Thou canst not say that I did not protest.

      ANTIGONE

      Well, some approved thy wisdom, others mine.

      ISMENE

      But now we stand convicted, both alike.

      ANTIGONE

      Fear not; thou livest, I died long ago

      Then when I gave my life to save the dead.

      CREON

      Both maids, methinks, are crazed. One suddenly

      Has lost her wits, the other was born mad.

      ISMENE

      Yea, so it falls, sire, when misfortune comes,

      The wisest even lose their mother wit.

      CREON

      I’ faith thy wit forsook thee when thou mad’st

      Thy choice with evil-doers to do ill.

      ISMENE

      What life for me without my sister here?

      CREON

      Say not thy sister here: thy sister’s dead.

      ISMENE

      What, wilt thou slay thy own son’s plighted bride?

      CREON

      Aye, let him raise him seed from other fields.

      ISMENE

      No new espousal can be like the old.

      CREON

      A plague on trulls who court and woo our sons.

      ANTIGONE

      O Haemon, how thy sire dishonors thee!

      CREON

      A plague on thee and thy accursed bride!

      CHORUS

      What, wilt thou rob thine own son of his bride?

      CREON

      ’Tis death that bars this marriage, not his sire.

      CHORUS

      So her death-warrant, it would seem, is sealed.

      CREON

      By you, as first by me; off with them, guards,

      And keep them close. Henceforward let them learn

      To live as women use, not roam at large.

      For e’en the bravest spirits run away

      When they perceive death pressing on life’s heels.

      CHORUS

      (Str. 1)

      Thrice blest are they who never tasted pain!

      If once the curse of Heaven attaint a race,

      The infection lingers on and speeds apace,

      Age after age, and each the cup must drain.

      So when Etesian blasts from Thrace downpour

      Sweep o’er the blackening main and whirl to land

      From Ocean’s cavernous depths his ooze and sand,

      Billow on billow thunders on the shore.

      (Ant. 1)

      On the Labdacidae I see descending

      Woe upon woe; from days of old some god

      Laid on the race a malison, and his rod

      Scourges each age with sorrows never ending.

      The light that dawned upon its last born son

      Is vanished, and the bloody axe of Fate

      Has felled the goodly tree that blossomed late.

      O Oedipus, by reckless pride undone!

      (Str. 2)

      Thy might, O Zeus, what mortal power can quell?

      Not sleep that lays all else beneath its spell,

      Nor moons that never tire: untouched by Time,

      Throned in the dazzling light

      That crowns Olympus’ height,

      Thou reignest King, omnipotent, sublime.

      Past, present, and to be,

      All bow to thy decree,

      All that exceeds the mean by Fate

      Is punished, Love or Hate.

      (Ant. 2)

      Hope flits about never-wearying wings;

      Profit to some, to some light loves she brings,

      But no man knoweth how her gifts may turn,

      Till ‘neath his feet the treacherous ashes burn.

      Sure ’twas a sage inspired that spake this word;

      If evil good appear

      To any, Fate is near;

      And brief the respite from her flaming sword.

      Hither comes in angry mood

      Haemon, latest of thy brood;

      Is it for his bride he’s grieved,

      Or her marriage-bed deceived,

      Doth he make his mourn for thee,

      Maid forlorn, Antigone?

      [Enter HAEMON]


      CREON

      Soon shall we know, better than seer can tell.

      Learning may fixed decree anent thy bride,

      Thou mean’st not, son, to rave against thy sire?

      Know’st not whate’er we do is done in love?

      HAEMON

      O father, I am thine, and I will take

      Thy wisdom as the helm to steer withal.

      Therefore no wedlock shall by me be held

      More precious than thy loving goverance.

      CREON

      Well spoken: so right-minded sons should feel,

      In all deferring to a father’s will.

      For ’tis the hope of parents they may rear

      A brood of sons submissive, keen to avenge

      Their father’s wrongs, and count his friends their own.

      But who begets unprofitable sons,

      He verily breeds trouble for himself,

      And for his foes much laughter. Son, be warned

      And let no woman fool away thy wits.

      Ill fares the husband mated with a shrew,

      And her embraces very soon wax cold.

      For what can wound so surely to the quick

      As a false friend? So spue and cast her off,

      Bid her go find a husband with the dead.

      For since I caught her openly rebelling,

      Of all my subjects the one malcontent,

      I will not prove a traitor to the State.

      She surely dies. Go, let her, if she will,

      Appeal to Zeus the God of Kindred, for

      If thus I nurse rebellion in my house,

      Shall not I foster mutiny without?

      For whoso rules his household worthily,

      Will prove in civic matters no less wise.

      But he who overbears the laws, or thinks

      To overrule his rulers, such as one

      I never will allow. Whome’er the State

      Appoints must be obeyed in everything,

      But small and great, just and unjust alike.

      I warrant such a one in either case

      Would shine, as King or subject; such a man

      Would in the storm of battle stand his ground,

      A comrade leal and true; but Anarchy —

      What evils are not wrought by Anarchy!

      She ruins States, and overthrows the home,

      She dissipates and routs the embattled host;

      While discipline preserves the ordered ranks.

      Therefore we must maintain authority

      And yield to title to a woman’s will.

      Better, if needs be, men should cast us out

      Than hear it said, a woman proved his match.

      CHORUS

      To me, unless old age have dulled wits,

      Thy words appear both reasonable and wise.

      HAEMON

      Father, the gods implant in mortal men

      Reason, the choicest gift bestowed by heaven.

      ’Tis not for me to say thou errest, nor

      Would I arraign thy wisdom, if I could;

      And yet wise thoughts may come to other men

      And, as thy son, it falls to me to mark

      The acts, the words, the comments of the crowd.

     


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