Chapter 3

WATCH. I cannot tell. There was no mark to show-- No dint of spade, or mattock-loosened sod,-- Only the hard bare ground, untilled and trackless. Whoe'er he was, the doer left no trace. And, when the scout of our first daylight watch Showed us the thing, we marvelled in dismay. The Prince was out of sight; not in a grave, But a thin dust was o'er him, as if thrown By one who shunned the dead man's curse. No sign Appeared of any hound or beast o' the field Having come near, or pulled at the dead body. Then rose high words among us sentinels With bickering noise accusing each his mate, And it seemed like to come to blows, with none To hinder. For the hand that thus had wrought Was any of ours, and none; the guilty man Escaped all knowledge. And we were prepared To lift hot iron with our bare palms; to walk Through fire, and swear by all the Gods at once That we were guiltless, ay, and ignorant Of who had plotted or performed this thing. When further search seemed bootless, at the last One spake, whose words bowed all our heads to the earth With fear. We knew not what to answer him, Nor how to do it and prosper. He advised So grave a matter must not be concealed, But instantly reported to the King. Well, this prevailed, and the lot fell on me, Unlucky man! to be the ministrant Of this fair service. So I am present here, Against my will and yours, I am sure of that. None love the bringer of unwelcome news.

CH. My lord, a thought keeps whispering in my breast, Some Power divine hath interposed in this.

CR. Cease, ere thou quite enrage me, and appear Foolish as thou art old. Talk not to me Of Gods who have taken thought for this dead man! Say, was it for his benefits to them They hid his corse, and honoured him so highly, Who came to set on fire their pillared shrines, With all the riches of their offerings, And to make nothing of their land and laws? Or, hast thou seen them honouring villany? That cannot be. Long time the cause of this Hath come to me in secret murmurings From malcontents of Thebes, who under yoke Turned restive, and would not accept my sway. Well know I, these have bribed the watchmen here To do this for some fee. For nought hath grown Current among mankind so mischievous As money. This brings cities to their fall: This drives men homeless, and moves honest minds To base contrivings. This hath taught mankind The use of wickedness, and how to give An impious turn to every kind of act. But whosoe'er hath done this for reward Hath found his way at length to punishment. If Zeus have still my worship, be assured Of that which here on oath I say to thee-- Unless ye find the man who made this grave And bring him bodily before mine eye, Death shall not be enough, till ye have hung Alive for an example of your guilt, That henceforth in your rapine ye may know Whence gain is to be gotten, and may learn Pelf from all quarters is not to be loved. For in base getting, 'tis a common proof, More find disaster than deliverance.

WATCH. Am I to speak? or must I turn and go?

CR. What? know you not your speech offends even now?

WATCH. Doth the mind smart withal, or only the ear?

CR. Art thou to probe the seat of mine annoy?

WATCH. If I offend, 'tis in your ear alone, The malefactor wounds ye to the soul.

CR. Out on thee! thou art nothing but a tongue.

WATCH. Then was I ne'er the doer of this deed.

CR. Yea, verily: self-hired to crime for gold.

WATCH. Pity so clear a mind should clearly err!

CR. Gloze now on clearness! But unless ye bring The burier, without glozing ye shall tell, Craven advantage clearly worketh bane.

WATCH. By all means let the man be found; one thing I know right well:--caught or not caught, howe'er Fate rules his fortune, me you ne'er will see Standing in presence here. Even now I owe Deep thanks to Heaven for mine escape, so far Beyond my hope and highest expectancy. [_Exeunt severally_

CHORUS. Many a wonder lives and moves, but the wonder of all is man, I 1 That courseth over the grey ocean, carried of Southern gale, Faring amidst high-swelling seas that rudely surge around, And Earth, supreme of mighty Gods, eldest, imperishable, Eternal, he with patient furrow wears and wears away As year by year the plough-shares turn and turn,-- Subduing her unwearied strength with children of the steed[4].

And wound in woven coils of nets he seizeth for his prey I 2 The aery tribe of birds and wilding armies of the chase, And sea-born millions of the deep--man is so crafty-wise. And now with engine of his wit he tameth to his will The mountain-ranging beast whose lair is in the country wild; And now his yoke hath passed upon the mane Of horse with proudly crested neck and tireless mountain bull.

Wise utterance and wind-swift thought, and city-moulding mind, II 1 And shelter from the clear-eyed power of biting frost, He hath taught him, and to shun the sharp, roof-penetrating rain,-- Full of resource, without device he meets no coming time; From Death alone he shall not find reprieve; No league may gain him that relief; but even for fell disease, That long hath baffled wisest leech, he hath contrived a cure.

Inventive beyond wildest hope, endowed with boundless skill, II 2 One while he moves toward evil, and one while toward good, According as he loves his land and fears the Gods above. Weaving the laws into his life and steadfast oath of Heaven, High in the State he moves but outcast he, Who hugs dishonour to his heart and follows paths of crime Ne'er may he come beneath my roof, nor think like thoughts with me.

LEADER OF CHORUS What portent from the Gods is here? My mind is mazed with doubt and fear. How can I gainsay what I see? I know the girl Antigone, O hapless child of hapless sire! Didst thou, then, recklessly aspire To brave kings' laws, and now art brought In madness of transgression caught?

_Enter_ Watchman, _bringing in_ ANTIGONE

WATCH. Here is the doer of the deed--this maid We found her burying him. Where is the King?

CH. Look, he comes forth again to meet thy call.

_Enter_ CREON.

CR. What call so nearly times with mine approach?

WATCH. My lord, no mortal should deny on oath, Judgement is still belied by after thought When quailing 'neath the tempest of your threats, Methought no force would drive me to this place But joy unlook'd for and surpassing hope Is out of bound the best of all delight, And so I am here again,--though I had sworn I ne'er would come,--and in my charge this maid, Caught in the act of caring for the dead Here was no lot throwing, this hap was mine Without dispute. And now, my sovereign lord, According to thy pleasure, thine own self Examine and convict her. For my part I have good right to be away and free From the bad business I am come upon.

CR. This maiden! How came she in thy charge? Where didst thou find her?

WATCH. Burying the prince. One word hath told thee all.

CR. Hast thou thy wits, and knowest thou what thou sayest?

WATCH. I saw her burying him whom you forbade To bury. Is that, now, clearly spoken, or no?

CR. And how was she detected, caught, and taken?

WATCH. It fell in this wise. We were come to the spot, Bearing the dreadful burden of thy threats; And first with care we swept the dust away From round the corse, and laid the dank limbs bare: Then sate below the hill-top, out o' the wind, Where no bad odour from the dead might strike us, Stirring each other on with interchange Of loud revilings on the negligent In 'tendance on this duty. So we stayed Till in mid heaven the sun's resplendent orb Stood high, and the heat strengthened. Suddenly, The Storm-god raised a whirlwind from the ground, Vexing heaven's concave, and filled all the plain, Rending the locks of all the orchard groves, Till the great sky was choked withal. We closed Our lips and eyes, and bore the God-sent evil. When after a long while this ceased, the maid Was seen, and wailed in high and bitter key, Like some despairing bird that hath espied Her nest all desolate, the nestlings gone. So, when she saw the body bare, she mourned Loudly, and cursed the authors of this deed. Then nimbly with her hands she brought dry dust, And holding high a shapely brazen cruse, Poured three libations, honouring the dead. We, when we saw, ran in, and straightway seized Our quarry, nought dismayed, and charged her with The former crime and this. And she denied Nothing;--to my delight, and to my grief. One's self to escape disaster is great joy; Yet to have drawn a friend into distress Is painful. But mine own security To me is of more value than aught else.

CR. Thou, with thine eyes down-fastened to the earth! Dost thou confess to have done this, or deny it?

ANT. I deny nothing. I avow the deed.

CR. (_to_ Watchman). Thou may'st betake thyself whither thou wilt, Acquitted of the grievous charge, and free. (_to_ ANTIGONE) And thou,--no prating talk, but briefly tell, Knew'st thou our edict that forbade this thing?

ANT. I could not fail to know. You made it plain.

CR. How durst thou then transgress the published law?

ANT. I heard it not from Heaven, nor came it forth From Justice, where she reigns with Gods below. They too have published to mankind a law. Nor thought I thy commandment of such might That one who is mortal thus could overbear The infallible, unwritten laws of Heaven. Not now or yesterday they have their being, But everlastingly, and none can tell The hour that saw their birth. I would not, I, For any terror of a man's resolve, Incur the God-inflicted penalty Of doing them wrong. That death would come, I knew Without thine edict;--if before the time, I count it gain. Who does not gain by death, That lives, as I do, amid boundless woe? Slight is the sorrow of such doom to me. But had I suffered my own mother's child, Fallen in blood, to be without a grave, That were indeed a sorrow. This is none. And if thou deem'st me foolish for my deed, I am foolish in the judgement of a fool.

CH. Fierce shows the maiden's vein from her fierce sire; Calamity doth not subdue her will.

CR. Ay, but the stubborn spirit first doth fall. Oft ye shall see the strongest bar of steel, That fire hath hardened to extremity, Shattered to pieces. A small bit controls The fiery steed. Pride may not be endured In one whose life is subject to command. This maiden hath been conversant with crime Since first she trampled on the public law; And now she adds to crime this insolence, To laugh at her offence, and glory in it. Truly, if she that hath usurped this power Shall rest unpunished, she then is a man, And I am none. Be she my sister's child, Or of yet nearer blood to me than all That take protection from my hearth, the pair Shall not escape the worst of deaths. For know, I count the younger of the twain no less Copartner in this plotted funeral: And now I bid you call her. Late I saw her Within the house, beyond herself, and frantic. --Full oft when one is darkly scheming wrong, The disturbed spirit hath betrayed itself Before the act it hides.--But not less hateful Seems it to me, when one that hath been caught In wickedness would give it a brave show.

ANT. Wouldst thou aught more of me than merely death?

CR. No more. 'Tis all I claim. Death closes all.

ANT. Why then delay? No talk of thine can charm me, Forbid it Heaven! And my discourse no less Must evermore sound noisome to thine ear. Yet where could I have found a fairer fame Than giving burial to my own true brother? All here would tell thee they approve my deed, Were they not tongue-tied to authority. But kingship hath much profit; this in chief, That it may do and say whate'er it will.

CR. No Theban sees the matter with thine eye.

ANT. They see, but curb their voices to thy sway

CR. And art thou not ashamed, acting alone?

ANT. A sister's piety hath no touch of shame.

CR. Was not Eteocles thy brother too?

ANT. My own true brother from both parents' blood.

CR. This duty was impiety to him.

ANT. He that is dead will not confirm that word.

CR. If you impart his honours to the vile.

ANT. It was his brother, not a slave, who fell.

CR. But laying waste the land for which he fought.

ANT. Death knows no difference, but demands his due.

CR. Yet not equality 'twixt good and bad.

ANT. Both may be equal yonder; who can tell?

CR. An enemy is hated even in death.

ANT. Love, and not hatred, is the part for me.

CR. Down then to death! and, if you must, there love The dead. No woman rules me while I live.

CH. Now comes Ismene forth. Ah, see, From clouds above her brow The sister-loving tear Is falling wet on her fair cheek, Distaining all her passion-crimson'd face!

_Enter_ ISMENE.

CR. And thou, that like a serpent coiled i' the house Hast secretly been draining my life-blood,-- Little aware that I was cherishing Two curses and subverters of my throne,-- Tell us, wilt thou avouch thy share in this Entombment, or forswear all knowledge of it?

ISM. If her voice go therewith, I did the deed, And bear my part and burden of the blame.

ANT. Nay, justice will not suffer that. You would not, And I refused to make you mine ally.

ISM. But now in thy misfortune I would fain Embark with thee in thy calamity.

ANT. Who did the deed, the powers beneath can tell. I care not for lip-kindness from my kin.

ISM. Ah! scorn me not so far as to forbid me To die with thee, and honour our lost brother.

ANT. Die not with me, nor make your own a deed you never touched! My dying is enough.

ISM. What joy have I in life when thou art gone?

ANT. Ask Creon there. He hath your care and duty.

ISM. What can it profit thee to vex me so?

ANT. My heart is pained, though my lip laughs at thee.

ISM. What can I do for thee now, even now?

ANT. Save your own life. I grudge not your escape.

ISM. Alas! and must I be debarred thy fate?

ANT. Life was the choice you made. Mine was to die.

ISM. I warned thee----

ANT. Yes, your prudence is admired On earth. My wisdom is approved below.

ISM. Yet truly we are both alike in fault.

ANT. Fear not; you live. My life hath long been given To death, to be of service to the dead.

CR. Of these two girls, the one hath lost her wits: The other hath had none since she was born.

ISM. My lord, in misery, the mind one hath Is wont to be dislodged, and will not stay.

CR. You have ta'en leave of yours at any rate, When you cast in your portion with the vile.

ISM. What can life profit me without my sister?

CR. Say not 'my sister'; she is nothing now.

ISM. What? wilt thou kill thy son's espousal too?

CR. He may find other fields to plough upon.

ISM. Not so as love was plighted 'twixt them twain.

CR. I hate a wicked consort for my son.

ANT. O dearest Haemon! how thy father wrongs thee!

CR. Thou and thy marriage are a torment to me.

CH. And wilt thou sever her from thine own son?

CR. 'Tis death must come between him and his joy,

CH. All doubt is then resolved: the maid must die,

CR. I am resolved; and so, 'twould seem, are you. In with her, slaves! No more delay! Henceforth These maids must have but woman's liberty And be mewed up; for even the bold will fly When they see Death nearing the house of life. [ANTIGONE _and_ ISMENE _are led into the palace._

CHORUS. Blest is the life that never tasted woe. I 1 When once the blow Hath fallen upon a house with Heaven-sent doom, Trouble descends in ever-widening gloom Through all the number of the tribe to flow; As when the briny surge That Thrace-born tempests urge (The big wave ever gathering more and more) Runs o'er the darkness of the deep, And with far-searching sweep Uprolls the storm-heap'd tangle on the shore, While cliff to beaten cliff resounds with sullen roar.

The stock of Cadmus from old time, I know, I 2 Hath woe on woe, Age following age, the living on the dead, Fresh sorrow falling on each new-ris'n head, None freed by God from ruthless overthrow. E'en now a smiling light Was spreading to our sight O'er one last fibre of a blasted tree,-- When, lo! the dust of cruel death, Tribute of Gods beneath, And wildering thoughts, and fate-born ecstasy, Quench the brief gleam in dark Nonentity.

What froward will of man, O Zeus! can check thy might? II 1 Not all-enfeebling sleep, nor tireless months divine, Can touch thee, who through ageless time Rulest mightily Olympus' dazzling height. This was in the beginning, and shall be Now and eternally, Not here or there, but everywhere, A law of misery that shall not spare.

For Hope, that wandereth wide, comforting many a head, II 2 Entangleth many more with glamour of desire: Unknowing they have trode the fire. Wise was the famous word of one who said, 'Evil oft seemeth goodness to the mind An angry God doth blind.' Few are the days that such as he May live untroubled of calamity.

LEADER OF CHORUS. Lo, Haemon, thy last offspring, now is come, Lamenting haply for the maiden's doom, Say, is he mourning o'er her young life lost, Fiercely indignant for his bridal crossed?

_Enter_ HAEMON.

CR. We shall know soon, better than seers could teach us. Can it be so, my son, that thou art brought By mad distemperature against thy sire, On hearing of the irrevocable doom Passed on thy promised bride? Or is thy love Thy father's, be his actions what they may?

HAEMON. I am thine, father, and will follow still Thy good directions; nor would I prefer The fairest bride to thy wise government.

CR. That, O my son! should be thy constant mind, In all to bend thee to thy father's will. Therefore men pray to have around their hearths Obedient offspring, to requite their foes With harm, and honour whom their father loves; But he whose issue proves unprofitable, Begets what else but sorrow to himself And store of laughter to his enemies? Make not, my son, a shipwreck of thy wit For a woman. Thine own heart may teach thee this;-- There's but cold comfort in a wicked wife Yoked to the home inseparably. What wound Can be more deadly than a harmful friend? Then spurn her like an enemy, and send her To wed some shadow in the world below! For since of all the city I have found Her only recusant, caught in the act, I will not break my word before the State. I will take her life. At this let her invoke The god of kindred blood! For if at home I foster rebels, how much more abroad? Whoso is just in ruling his own house, Lives rightly in the commonwealth no less: But he that wantonly defies the law, Or thinks to dictate to authority, Shall have no praise from me. What power soe'er The city hath ordained, must be obeyed In little things and great things, right or wrong. The man who so obeys, I have good hope Will govern and be governed as he ought, And in the storm of battle at my side Will stand a faithful and a trusty comrade. But what more fatal than the lapse of rule? This ruins cities, this lays houses waste, This joins with the assault of war to break Full numbered armies into hopeless rout; And in the unbroken host 'tis nought but rule That keeps those many bodies from defeat, I must be zealous to defend the law, And not go down before a woman's will. Else, if I fall, 'twere best a man should strike me; Lest one should say, 'a woman worsted him.'

CH. Unless our sense is weakened by long time, Thou speakest not unwisely.

HAEM. O my sire, Sound wisdom is a God implanted seed, Of all possessions highest in regard. I cannot, and I would not learn to say That thou art wrong in this; though in another, It may be such a word were not unmeet. But as thy son, 'tis surely mine to scan Men's deeds, and words, and muttered thoughts toward thee. Fear of thy frown restrains the citizen In talk that would fall harshly on thine ear. I under shadow may o'erhear, how all Thy people mourn this maiden, and complain That of all women least deservedly She perishes for a most glorious deed. 'Who, when her own true brother on the earth Lay weltering after combat in his gore, Left him not graveless, for the carrion few And raw devouring field dogs to consume-- Hath she not merited a golden praise?' Such the dark rumour spreading silently. Now, in my valuing, with thy prosperous life, My father, no possession can compare. Where can be found a richer ornament For children, than their father's high renown? Or where for fathers, than their children's fame? Nurse not one changeless humour in thy breast, That nothing can be right but as thou sayest. Whoe'er presumes that he alone hath sense, Or peerless eloquence, or reach of soul, Unwrap him, and you'll find but emptiness. 'Tis no disgrace even to the wise to learn And lend an ear to reason. You may see The plant that yields where torrent waters flow Saves every little twig, when the stout tree Is torn away and dies. The mariner Who will not ever slack the sheet that sways The vessel, but still tightens, oversets, And so, keel upward, ends his voyaging. Relent, I pray thee, and give place to change. If any judgement hath informed my youth, I grant it noblest to be always wise, But,--for omniscience is denied to man-- Tis good to hearken to admonishment.

CH. My lord, 'twere wise, if thou wouldst learn of him In reason; and thou, Haemon, from thy sire! Truth lies between you.

CR. Shall our age, forsooth, Be taught discretion by a peevish boy?

HAEM. Only in what is right. Respects of time Must be outbalanced by the actual need.

CR. To cringe to rebels cannot be a need.

HAEM. I do not claim observance for the vile.

CR. Why, is not she so tainted? Is 't not proved?

HAEM. All Thebes denies it.

CR. Am I ruled by Thebes?

HAEM. If youth be folly, that is youngly said.

CR. Shall other men prescribe my government?

HAEM. One only makes not up a city, father.

CR. Is not the city in the sovereign's hand?

HAEM. Nobly you'd govern as the desert's king.

CR. This youngster is the woman's champion.

HAEM. You are the woman, then--for you I care.

CR. Villain, to bandy reasons with your sire!

HAEM. I plead against the unreason of your fault.

CR. What fault is there in reverencing my power?

HAEM. There is no reverence when you spurn the Gods.

CR. Abominable spirit, woman-led!

HAEM. You will not find me following a base guide.

CR. Why, all your speech this day is spent for her.

HAEM. For you and me too, and the Gods below.

CR. She will not live to be your wife on earth.

HAEM. I know, then, whom she will ruin by her death.

CR. What, wilt thou threaten, too, thou audacious boy?

HAEM. It is no threat to answer empty words.

CR. Witless admonisher, thou shalt pay for this!

HAEM. Thou art my sire, else would I call thee senseless.

CR. Thou woman's minion! mince not terms with me,

HAEM. Wouldst thou have all the speaking on thy side?

CR. Is 't possible? By yon heaven! thou'lt not escape, For adding contumely to words of blame. Bring out the hated thing, that she may die Immediately, before her lover's face!

HAEM. Nay, dream not she shall suffer in my sight Nor shalt thou ever see my face again Let those stay with you that can brook your rage! [_Exit_

CH. My lord, he is parted swiftly in deep wrath! The youthful spirit offended makes wild work.

CR. Ay, let him do his worst. Let him give scope To pride beyond the compass of a man! He shall not free these maidens from their doom.

CH. Is death thy destination for them both?

CR. Only for her who acted. Thou art right.

CH. And what hast thou determined for her death?

CH. Where human footstep shuns the desert ground, I'll hide her living in a cave like vault, With so much provender as may prevent Pollution from o'ertaking the whole city And there, perchance, she may obtain of Death, Her only deity, to spare her soul, Or else in that last moment she will learn 'Tis labour lost to worship powers unseen. [_Exit_ CREON