Part 8

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 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. The commons stand in terror of thy frown, And dare not utter aught that might offend, But I can overhear their muttered plaints, Know how the people mourn this maiden doomed For noblest deeds to die the worst of deaths. When her own brother slain in battle lay Unsepulchered, she suffered not his corse To lie for carrion birds and dogs to maul: Should not her name (they cry) be writ in gold? Such the low murmurings that reach my ear. O father, nothing is by me more prized Than thy well-being, for what higher good Can children covet than their sire’s fair fame, As fathers too take pride in glorious sons? Therefore, my father, cling not to one mood, And deemed not thou art right, all others wrong. For whoso thinks that wisdom dwells with him, That he alone can speak or think aright, Such oracles are empty breath when tried. The wisest man will let himself be swayed By others’ wisdom and relax in time. See how the trees beside a stream in flood Save, if they yield to force, each spray unharmed, But by resisting perish root and branch. The mariner who keeps his mainsheet taut, And will not slacken in the gale, is like To sail with thwarts reversed, keel uppermost. Relent then and repent thee of thy wrath; For, if one young in years may claim some sense, I’ll say ’tis best of all to be endowed With absolute wisdom; but, if that’s denied, (And nature takes not readily that ply) Next wise is he who lists to sage advice.

CHORUS. If he says aught in season, heed him, King. (To HAEMON) Heed thou thy sire too; both have spoken well.

CREON. What, would you have us at our age be schooled, Lessoned in prudence by a beardless boy?

HAEMON. I plead for justice, father, nothing more. Weigh me upon my merit, not my years.

CREON. Strange merit this to sanction lawlessness!

HAEMON. For evil-doers I would urge no plea.

CREON. Is not this maid an arrant law-breaker?

HAEMON. The Theban commons with one voice say, No.

CREON. What, shall the mob dictate my policy?

HAEMON. ’Tis thou, methinks, who speakest like a boy.

CREON. Am I to rule for others, or myself?

HAEMON. A State for one man is no State at all.

CREON. The State is his who rules it, so ’tis held.

HAEMON. As monarch of a desert thou wouldst shine.

CREON. This boy, methinks, maintains the woman’s cause.

HAEMON. If thou be’st woman, yes. My thought’s for thee.

CREON. O reprobate, would’st wrangle with thy sire?

HAEMON. Because I see thee wrongfully perverse.

CREON. And am I wrong, if I maintain my rights?

HAEMON. Talk not of rights; thou spurn’st the due of Heaven

CREON. O heart corrupt, a woman’s minion thou!

HAEMON. Slave to dishonor thou wilt never find me.

CREON. Thy speech at least was all a plea for her.

HAEMON. And thee and me, and for the gods below.

CREON. Living the maid shall never be thy bride.

HAEMON. So she shall die, but one will die with her.

CREON. Hast come to such a pass as threaten me?

HAEMON. What threat is this, vain counsels to reprove?

CREON. Vain fool to instruct thy betters; thou shall rue it.

HAEMON. Wert not my father, I had said thou err’st.

CREON. Play not the spaniel, thou a woman’s slave.

HAEMON. When thou dost speak, must no man make reply?

CREON. This passes bounds. By heaven, thou shalt not rate And jeer and flout me with impunity. Off with the hateful thing that she may die At once, beside her bridegroom, in his sight.

HAEMON. Think not that in my sight the maid shall die, Or by my side; never shalt thou again Behold my face hereafter. Go, consort With friends who like a madman for their mate. [Exit HAEMON]

CHORUS. Thy son has gone, my liege, in angry haste. Fell is the wrath of youth beneath a smart.

CREON. Let him go vent his fury like a fiend: These sisters twain he shall not save from death.

CHORUS. Surely, thou meanest not to slay them both?

CREON. I stand corrected; only her who touched The body.

CHORUS. And what death is she to die?

CREON. She shall be taken to some desert place By man untrod, and in a rock-hewn cave, With food no more than to avoid the taint That homicide might bring on all the State, Buried alive. There let her call in aid The King of Death, the one god she reveres, Or learn too late a lesson learnt at last: ’Tis labor lost, to reverence the dead.

CHORUS. (Str.) Love resistless in fight, all yield at a glance of thine eye, Love who pillowed all night on a maiden’s cheek dost lie, Over the upland holds. Shall mortals not yield to thee?

(Ant). Mad are thy subjects all, and even the wisest heart Straight to folly will fall, at a touch of thy poisoned dart. Thou didst kindle the strife, this feud of kinsman with kin, By the eyes of a winsome wife, and the yearning her heart to win. For as her consort still, enthroned with Justice above, Thou bendest man to thy will, O all invincible Love.

Lo I myself am borne aside, From Justice, as I view this bride. (O sight an eye in tears to drown) Antigone, so young, so fair, Thus hurried down Death’s bower with the dead to share.