Eteocles and Polynices, the unnatural brothers, having fallen by each other's hands, Creon is King of Thebes. To Eteocles, who had died in defence of the city, he awards honourable burial; Polynices, who had fallen in attacking the city, he dooms to lie unburied, a great dishonour and calamity in Hellenic opinion. Antigone resolves to disregard the ordinance, and pay the funeral rites to her brother Polynices. The conflict between the law of the State and the divine law which Antigone obeys is the moral key-note of the play. Ismene is Antigone's weaker sister and serves as a foil to her. Antigone is betrothed to Haemon, a son of Creon.
* * * * *
THE TWO SISTERS.
LINES 1-99.
ANTIGONE.
Ismene, sister mine in blood and heart,
All woes that had their source in Oedipus
Zeus will bring on us yet before we die.
Nothing there is disastrous or accursed,
No blot of shame, no brand of infamy,
Which in our list of ills I reckon not.
What is this proclamation that I hear
The general has put forth to all the host?
Say, canst thou tell, or art thou ignorant
That those we hate are threat'ning those we love?
ISMENE.
To me, Antigone, no word has come
Either of joyful tidings or of bad
Since we of our two brothers were bereft,
Slain in one day, each by the other's hand.
Last night the Argive army marched away;
This much I know, and I know nothing more
To add to or abate our misery.
ANTIGONE.
Of that I was assured, and called thee forth
Before the gate to speak to thee apart.
ISMENE.
What is it? Something ferments in thy soul.
ANTIGONE.
Creon to one of our two brothers grants,
But to the other he denies, a grave.
Eteocles, as they tell me, he has laid
With all due form and reverence in the tomb,
There to be ranked among the honoured dead.
But Polynices' miserable corpse,
It seems, by strict injunction he forbids
All citizens to bury or to mourn;
Ordering that it be left without a grave,
Unwailed, a welcome prey to ravening birds.
This proclamation Creon, worthy man—
Look thou, look both of us alike—puts forth.
'Tis said he hither comes to publish it,
To all who know it not, nor deems the thing
Of small concern; for whoso disobeys
His penalty is to be stoned to death.
So stands the matter; it will now be seen
Whether thy soul is worthy of thy race.
ISMENE.
How, daring maid, can I in such a case,
Whether to loose or bind, assistance lend?
ANTIGONE.
Wilt thou take part and aid me? Ponder well.
ISMENE.
In what adventure? What is in thy mind?
ANTIGONE.
Will thy arm help me to uplift the corpse?
ISMENE.
How! Wouldst thou brave the law and bury him?
ANTIGONE.
Bury thy brother and mine own I would.
Do as thou wilt, my duty shall not fail.
ISMENE.
In face of Creon's edict? Art thou mad?
ANTIGONE.
Has he the right to part me from mine own?
ISMENE.
Sister, alack! think how our father fell,
O'erwhelmed with hatred and with infamy
Through sins which his own act had brought to light,
His eyes bereft of sight by his own hand;
How she that was his wife and mother too
Perished, self-strangled with a twisted cord,
And lastly our two brothers in one day
With fratricidal hands most ruefully
Upon each other brought a common doom.
Now only we are left, and worst of all
Our fate will be, if, in contempt of law,
Our ruler's will and order we defy.
Think first that we are women, and too weak
Battle to do against the strength of men;
And next, that we are subject unto power,
And must in harder things than this obey.
For my share then, I will entreat the dead
To pardon what I do unwillingly,
And bow to the command of those in power.
High vaulting virtue overleaps itself.
ANTIGONE.
I urge thee not; nay, didst thou wish to aid,
My heart would not accept thy partnership.
Hold to thy own opinion; him I mean
To bury; death were honour in that cause.
I in the tomb shall lie with those I love,
A glorious criminal. Longer will last
The praise of those below than those above.
There I shall ever dwell. Then, if thou wilt,
Treat as of no account the claim of heaven.
ISMENE.
I lack not piety, but lack the force
To fly in face of public ordinance.
ANTIGONE.
Cling to thy specious pretext while I go
To heap the earth upon a brother's grave.
ISMENE.
Too daring sister, how I quake for thee.
ANTIGONE.
Quake not for me, steer thine own course aright.
ISMENE.
At least disclose to none this thy design;
I too will keep it locked within my breast.
ANTIGONE.
Avaunt! reveal it! I shall hate thee more
If thou dost not proclaim it to the world.
ISMENE.
Hot is thy blood, but chill thy enterprise.
ANTIGONE.
I shall please those whom I am bound to please.
ISMENE.
Hadst thou the power, but desperate is thy aim.
ANTIGONE.
When my power fails I have but to desist.
ISMENE.
Where we must fail, not to attempt is wise.
ANTIGONE.
Such talk will make thee hateful unto me,
And by the dead man righteously abhorred.
Then leave me with my folly to endure
This dreadful penalty. Come what come may,
Nothing will rob me of a noble death.
ISMENE.
Art thou resolved? Go, then, and be assured
That though misguided thou art well beloved.
* * * * *
SISTERLY LOVE DEFIES THE LAW.
Antigone is caught by the guard paying funeral rites to the corpse of
Polynices, and is brought before Creon.
LINES 384-581.
GUARD.
Behold the guilty one, caught in the act
Of burial. Where is Creon to be found?
CHORUS.
Hither he comes returning from the house.
CREON (entering).
What makes my presence here so opportune?
GUARD.
My prince, let mortal man nothing forswear,
For resolution yields to afterthought.
Little I looked hither to come again,
So pelted with the hailstorm of thy threats.
But the good fortune that surpasses hope
Is of all pleasant things the pleasantest;
And so I come in spite of all my oaths,
And bring with me this maiden, who was caught
Decking the grave. This time no lot was cast;
The prize is mine of right, and mine alone.
And now, my prince, take and examine her
Thyself, as seems thee good. I claim my due,
From all these troubles to be let go free.
CREON.
Where, in what manner, was your prisoner found?
GUARD.
'Twas she that gave him burial; all is told.
CREON.
Art thou assured of that thou dost report?
GUARD.
I saw this maiden burying the corpse
Which thou forbad'st to bury. Is that plain?
CREON.
By whom was she espied, and how entrapped?
GUARD.
Thus did it happen: When we reached our post,
Confounded by thy dreadful menaces,
We swept away with care each particle
Of dust, and having laid the carcase bare,
Then sat us down beneath the sheltering slope
Of a hillside, where we escaped the stench,
Each stirring up his fellow to the task,
And cursing him who should be slack in it.
So went we on until the sun's bright orb
Had reached the mid-arch of the firmament,
And its full heat was felt, when suddenly
A whirlwind, raising swirls of dust heaven-high,
Swept o'er the plain, stripping the wood of leaves,
Wherewith it filled the air. We with closed eyes
And lips sat bowing to the wrath of heaven.
When this had passed away, after some time,
Appeared this maiden, uttering piercing wails;
Like to the plaintive notes of a lorn bird,
That finds her nest robbed of its callow brood,
Her wailings were, when she beheld the corpse
Once more uncovered; and right bitterly
Cursed she the man whose hand had done the deed.
Straightway a handful of dry dust she brings,
Then thrice uplifting high a brazen urn,
Pours a three-fold libation on the corpse.
We at the sight, start up and quickly seize
The maiden, who was not a whit dismayed.
We charged her with what she before had done,
And what was doing. Nor denied she aught,
But made me feel sorrow and joy at once.
Oneself to have escaped calamity
Is cause for joy; to bring a friend to harm
Fills one with sorrow. But in my account
Of all things mine own safety is the first.
CREON.
(To ANTIGONE.)
Thou, that dost stand with eyes bent on the ground,
Dost thou plead guilty or deny the fact?
ANTIGONE.
Deny I do not, but avow my deed.
CREON.
(To the GUARD.)
Thou standst acquitted of a heinous charge,
And mayest betake thee hence whither thou wilt.
(To ANTIGONE.)
But thou, answer, and briefly, didst thou know
The proclamation made against this act?
ANTIGONE.
I did; how should I not? The words were plain.
CREON.
Yet didst thou dare to violate the law?
ANTIGONE.
The proclamation went not forth from Zeus,
Or Justice, partner of the gods below,
Who had ordained these canons for mankind;
Nor deemed I proclamations had such power
That thereby mortal man could contravene
Heaven's law unwritten and unchangeable.
That law was not the child of yesterday,
Nor knoweth man the source from which it came.
I was not minded for what men might say
To break that law and brave the wrath divine.
That death would come I know, as come it must
Without thy proclamation, and to die
Before my hour I count it so much gain.
For when a life is full of wretchedness
As mine has been, is it not gain to die?
Little I care if I such doom must meet;
But I care much not uninterred to leave
His corpse that was of the same mother born.
One pains me sore, the other pains me not;
And if to thee I seem to play the fool
To me it seems that to a fool I play it.
CHORUS.
She shows the savage spirit of her sire,
And to misfortune is untaught to bend.
CREON.
Know that the most self-willed most often fall.
Iron that hath been tempered by the fire
To a surpassing hardness, when it breaks,
We often see shattered most thoroughly;
And a small bit suffices to subdue
The fiery steed. High thoughts beseem not those
Who owe subjection to another's will.
This maid before displayed her insolence
In overstepping what the laws ordained;
And now again displays it, glorying
And laughing in our face over her crime.
It is not I that am the man, but she
If she can thus usurp and go unscathed.
Be she my sister's child or child of one
Nearer in blood than all around our hearth,
She shall not the last penalty escape,
Nor shall her sister. For she, too, I hold,
Conspired to bring about this burial.
Summon her hither. Just now in the house
I saw her raving like a maid possessed.
When wickedness is gendered in the dark
The heart is apt its secret to betray.
But not less hateful is the shamelessness
Which, of foul acts convicted, calls them fair.
ANTIGONE.
To lead me to my death, is that enough?
CREON.
It is enough. This done, I ask no more.
ANTIGONE.
Then why delay, when of thy words to me
Not one gives pleasure or will ever give?
Nor are mine less displeasing unto thee.
And yet what greater glory could be mine,
Than, burying my own brother, I have won?
Well know I, all here present would applaud
But that their tongues by fear of thee are tied.
Sovereigns in many things are fortunate,
And they alone are free in act and speech.
CREON.
So thinkest thou; of other Thebans, none.
ANTIGONE.
So think they too, but they must cringe to thee.
CREON.
Art not ashamed to brave the public voice?
ANTIGONE.
It is no shame to pay our kin their due.
CREON.
Was not he kin that fell upon our side?
ANTIGONE.
His father and his mother both were mine.
CREON.
How then do service which offends his shade?
ANTIGONE.
The dead man will not second thy complaint.
CREON.
He will if he is levell'd with the vile.
ANTIGONE.
It was a brother, not a slave, that fell.
CREON.
Assailing what the other died to save.
ANTIGONE.
The powers below ask these observances.
CREON.
The good ask not like treatment with the bad.
ANTIGONE.
Who knows but this may be deemed right below?
CREON.
Hatred expires not when the hated dies.
ANTIGONE.
Not hate but love to share my nature is.
CREON.
Go, then, below and love, if love thou wilt,
But while I live no woman shall reign here.
CHORUS.
(ISMENE entering)
Ismene, lo! before the gate appears,
A sister's grief o'erflowing in her tears;
The cloud of sorrow gathered on her face
Bedews her roseate cheek and mars its grace.
CREON.
(To ISMENE.)
And thou, too, in my home a lurking snake?
Didst drain my heart's blood, while I little thought
That I was cherishing two traitress fiends?
Wast thou a party to this burial,
Or wilt thou swear that thou art innocent?
ISMENE.
I did take part, if she will say I did,
And am content to bear my share of blame.
ANTIGONE.
That equity forbids; neither wert thou
Willing to act, nor I to act with thee.
ISMENE.
Yet would I not refuse mid thy distress,
Sister, to sail in the same barque with thee.
ANTIGONE.
Whose was the deed, the dead and Hades know.
I love not one whose friendship ends in words.
ISMENE.
Sister, deny me not the privilege
Of sharing both thy piety and death.
ANTIGONE.
Share not my death, nor claim the work in which
Thou hadst no hand; that I die is enough.
ISMENE.
What can life be to me, bereft of thee?
ANTIGONE.
Ask Creon, he is nearest thee in love.
ISMENE.
Why dost thou gird at me thus fruitlessly?
ANTIGONE.
My laugh is bitter when I laugh at thee.
ISMENE.
What can I do to aid thee even now?
ANTIGONE.
What, save thyself! I grudge not thy escape.
ISMENE.
Alack! and must I let thee die alone?
ANTIGONE.
Yes; for thy choice was life, and mine was death.
ISMENE.
But not unspoken was my mind to thee.
ANTIGONE.
Thy course was here approved, but mine below.
ISMENE.
Yet was the fault of both of us the same.
ANTIGONE.
Be of good cheer, thou livest; but my soul
Is with the dead, to whom my care is due.
CREON.
Of these two sisters, one, it seems to me,
Has lost her wits, and one was witless born.
ISMENE.
O Prince, the reason that is born in us
Abides not in the wretched, but departs.
CREON.
From thee it fled when thou didst share her crime.
ISMENE.
Without this maiden what can life be worth?
CREON.
Say not "this maiden," for she is no more.
ISMENE.
Wilt thou slay her that is thy son's betrothed?
CREON.
We shall find other fields enough to plough,
ISMENE.
Thou wilt not find such unison of hearts.
CREON.
I do not want a bad wife for my son.
ANTIGONE.
Dear Haemon, how thy father slights thy love.
CREON.
Thou and thy marriage are a weariness.
ISMENE.
Wilt thou bereave thy child of his betrothed?
CREON.
Hades it is that shall these nuptials bar.
ISMENE.
It is resolved, it seems, that she shall die.
CREON.
There I agree with thee. No more delay.
Slaves, take her in, and henceforth let these maids
Be women, and no more be left at large.
The stoutest hearts are apt to think of flight,
When they perceive that death is drawing near.
* * * * *
THE CONTEST BETWEEN LOVE AND FILIAL DUTY.
LINES 631-780.
CREON.
Soon shall we know, my son, past prophecy
Whether, apprised of that our fixed decree,
Thou com'st in wrath upon thy bride's account
Or all we do is pleasing unto thee.
HAEMON.
My father, I am thine; thy wisdom guides
My steps aright and I will follow it;
No marriage can be dearer to my heart
Than is the blessing of thy governance.
CREON.
Be this, my son, implanted in thy breast,
Still to thy father's judgment to defer.
This is the reason for which men desire
To rear obedient offspring in their homes,
Who may confront their father's enemy,
And with him render service to his friends.
The father of unprofitable sons—
What does he else but for himself beget
Trouble and exultation for his foes?
Never, my Haemon, for a woman's love
Let go thy better judgment. Thou must know
That cold and comfortless is the embrace
Of a bad partner in the marriage bed.
What sore is worse than ill-requited love?
Then cast away this maiden from thy heart,
And let her nuptial bower in Hades be,
Since I have openly convicted her
Of breaking law, by all beside obeyed.
My public act I will not falsify,
The maid shall die; howe'er she may descant
On sacred kinship. If at home I give
Disorder license, where will order reign?
Whoever governs his own house aright
Will be a worthy member of the State.
The bold transgressor that defies the law,
Or thinks to override authority,
Need look for no encouragement from me
The lawful ruler's word must be obeyed,
Just or unjust, in great things and in small.
Who does this, I will warrant him a man
Fit to command alike and to obey,
And one who in the battle's storm will stand
Bravely and staunchly at his comrade's side.
There is no greater curse than anarchy;
It works the overthrow of commonwealths,
Lays homes in ruin, in the battle-field
Puts armies to the rout, while victory
And safety are the meed of discipline.
So must we stand by that which is decreed,
And not to an usurping woman yield.
Fall if we must, a man shall deal the blow:
'Twere shame to think a woman vanquished us.
CHORUS.
If age our judgment dims not, thou hast dealt
Rightly with all things which thy speech concerns.
HAEMON.
Father, the favour of the gods bestows
Wisdom, most precious of all precious gifts.
That thou hast not the right upon thy side
I cannot, if I could I would not, show.
Yet may another's argument be fair.
Nature hath set me to keep watch for thee
Over the words, acts, censures of the world.
The common man, awed by thy presence, shrinks
From uttering what he knows will please thee not.
I hear beneath the cloud of secrecy
How the whole city for this maiden mourns.
She, who the least deserves it, dies, they say,
A cruel death for a most noble deed,
The rescue of her brother's mangled corpse
From being left unburied on the field,
A prey to ravening dogs and carrion birds.
Has she not merited a crown of gold?
Such murmurs darkling spread among the crowd.
Father, I hold no treasure half so dear
As thy well-being; greater joy or pride
Is none than sons have in an honoured sire,
Or than a sire has in an honoured son.
Keep not one changeless temper in thy breast,
Nor fancy that thou art infallible.
Whoever dreams that he alone is wise,
Or is in speech or spirit singular,
Will, when unmasked, betray his emptiness.
Wise though a man may be, it is no shame
To have an open mind and flexible.
Thou seest by the winter torrent's side
The trees that bend go with their limbs unscathed,
While those that bend not perish root and branch.
And so the sailor who keeps taut the sheet,
And stiffly battles with the tempest's force,
Is apt thenceforth to float keel uppermost.
Bend, then, and give thy spirit room to change.
If from the lips of a young counsellor
Wisdom can come, I say it were far best
If we could all be born omniscient,
But as omniscience is not given to man,
'Tis well to good advisers to give ear.
CHORUS.
Prince, it beseems ye both, if either says
Aught apt, to listen; both have argued well.
CREON.
And shall our hoary hairs be put to school,
And shall we take instruction from this boy?
HAEMON.
In naught that is not right. Young as I am,
Thou shouldst my reasons weigh, not count my years.
CREON.
Does reason bid thee second anarchy?
HAEMON.
I would not ask e'en justice for the bad.
CREON.
Is not yon maiden sick of that disease?
HAEMON.
Not so avers the common voice of Thebes.
CREON.
Shall I my duty from the commons learn?
HAEMON.
Seest thou how youthful is that sentiment?
CREON.
Am I to govern by another's will?
HAEMON.
That is no state which owns one man for lord.
CREON.
Is not the state the ruler's property?
HAEMON.
Thou wouldst reign well over a desert land.
CREON.
The boy, it seems, will fight for yonder maid.
HAEMON.
If thou'rt the maid; it is for thee I care.
CREON.
Villain, why art thou wrangling with thy sire?
HAEMON.
Because thou errest from the path of right.
CREON.
Err I in claiming reverence for my state?
HAEMON
Reverence upon religion tramples not.
CREON.
O caitiff soul, thrall of a woman's face!
HAEMON
Thou wilt not see me by aught base enthralled.
CREON.
Yet is thy whole discourse a plea for her.
HAEMON.
For thee and me, and for the gods below.
CREON.
This maid shall never be thy living bride.
HAEMON.
Then will she die, and will not die alone.
CREON.
Hast thou the effrontery thus to threaten me?
HAEMON.
To gainsay folly, call'st thou that a threat?
CREON.
Thou'lt rue thy preaching, void thyself of sense.
HAEMON.
I'd say thou dotest, wert thou not my sire.
CREON.
Slave of a woman, do not gird at me!
HAEMON.
Wouldst thou have all the talking to thyself?
CREON.
Indeed! By heaven above, thou shalt repent!
Thus censuring first and then reviling me.
Bring out that hateful thing that she may die
Forthwith, and here before her lover's eyes.
HAEMON.
Never before my eyes, believe it not;
A witness of her death I will not be,
Nor shalt thou look upon my face again.
Rave at the friends who will thy raving brook.
(Exit HAEMON.)
CHORUS.
O Prince, the youth has rushed away in wrath,
And at his years anguish is violent.
CREON.
Let him go vent his overweening pride;
These maidens twain shall not escape from death.
CHORUS.
What? Is it thy resolve that both shall die?
CREON.
Not she that took no part. Thou hast well said.
CHORUS.
What is to be the manner of her death?
CREON.
I will convey her to a lonely place,
And shut her in a rock-hewn prison-house,
With food sufficient, for religion's sake,
Whereby we from pollution save the State.
There unto Hades, her sole deity,
Pattering her prayers, she will drive death away,
Or at the last be taught how vain it is
To spend devotion on the shades below.
* * * * *
THE POWER OF LOVE.
LINES 781-800.
CHORUS.
Unconquered love, against whose might
Wealth's golden mansion hath no ward,
That in the maiden's dimpled cheek by night
Keepest thy guard;
The ocean wave to bear thy tread is taught;
The rural homestead, gods, and men are brought
Alike thy power to own; who feels it is distraught.
'Tis thou that upright hearts and pure dost lead
From virtue's ways to ways of sin.
'Tis thou whose influence in our Thebes does breed
Strife among kin.
O'er all prevails the charm of beauty's eyes,
Charm that with Law Supreme in empire vies,
For Aphrodite's power all rebel force defies.
* * * * *
ANTIGONE IS SENT TO HER DEATH.
LINES 882-928.
CREON.
Be sure, of wails and dirges before death,
If leave were given, we ne'er should have an end.
Lead her away and in the rocky vault
Forthwith immure her, as my order was.
There leave her by herself, either to die,
Or linger on in that sepulchral cell.
We of this maiden's blood are clear, and yet
She will no longer dwell with those above.
ANTIGONE.
O tomb, my bridal bower, O rock-hewn cell,
My home that art to be, whither I go
To meet my kin, of whom Persephone
In her dark mansion holds a multitude.
Last of the train and most unfortunate,
I now must die before my destined hour.
And yet my hope is sure that by my sire,
By thee, beloved mother, and by thee,
Dearest of brothers, welcomed I shall be.
This hand washed every corpse and decked it out
For sepulture; this hand upon each grave
Libations poured; and, Polynices, now
In tending thy remains I meet this doom.
Yet wisdom will approve my honouring thee:
Had I a mother been and lost a child,
Had I been wed and had my husband died,
I would not thus have braved the public ire.
What is my principle, perchance you ask?
My husband lost, I might have wed again,
I might in time have borne a second child;
But, with both sire and mother in the grave,
Hope of a second brother there is none.
Upon this principle I honoured thee,
Dearest of brothers; but to Creon seemed
A sinner and the worst of criminals.
And now he hales me to the place of death.
From marriage and of bridal hymn cut off,
Cut off from joys of love and motherhood,
And reft of friends, poor maiden as I am,
I must go down into a living grave.
And yet what law divine have I transgressed?
How could I look for succour to the gods?
Whither for comfort go, when piety
Is thus requited with the pains of sin?
If this is righteous in the eye of heaven,
I'll own the justice of my chastisement;
But if the sin be on the other side,
May they but bear that which they lay on me.
* * * * *
THE CATASTROPHE.
Creon, having been brought to repentance by the denunciations of the prophet Tiresias, sets out to bury the corpse of Polynices, and release Antigone from the cave of death. The issue is recounted by a messenger to the Queen Eurydice.
LINES 1155-1243.
MESSENGER.
Ye, that by Cadmus and Amphion's shrine
Do dwell, no mortal's life before its end
Will be by me pronounced blessed or unblessed.
Fortune is ever casting down the high,
Fortune is ever lifting up the low;
And none can prophesy what change may come.
Creon I deemed an enviable man:
He from our enemy had saved our state,
And, vested with a monarch's power supreme,
Ruled happy in the promise of his heir.
Now all is gone, for when a man has lost
The things that make life sweet, he lives in truth
No more, but is an animated corpse.
Have in your house what store of wealth you will,
Dwell in the state of sumptuous royalty,
Where joy is absent, I account the rest
Less than a shadow of a wreath of smoke.
CHORUS.
What evil has befallen our royal house?
MESSENGER.
Dead are some, others guilty of their death.
CHORUS.
Who is the murdered, who the murderer, say.
MESSENGER.
Haemon is dead, unnaturally slain.
CHORUS.
Slain by whose hand, his father's or his own?
MESSENGER.
His own, stung by his sire's cruel deed.
CHORUS.
O seer, thy prophesy has come too true.
MESSENGER.
So stands the case, whereon deliberate.
(Enter EURYDICE.)
CHORUS.
Yonder is the ill-starred Eurydice,
The Queen of Creon; from the house she comes
By chance, or brought by tidings of her son.
EURYDICE.
Citizens all, I overheard your words,
As from our portal I was setting forth
To pay my vows to Pallas at her fane.
Just as I drew the bolts that hold the door,
Sounds of disaster to our family
Smote on my ear. Affrighted, I fell back
In my attendants' arms and swooned away.
Repeat what then ye said; I am well schooled
In misery, and can bear to hear the worst.
MESSENGER.
Good lady, I was witness of the scene,
And nothing will suppress in my report.
Why tell a flattering tale, when soon the lie
Must be exposed? Plain truth is ever best.
I went as an attendant with the King
To yon high level where, a prey to dogs,
The uncared-for corpse of Polynices lay.
The corpse, with prayers put up to Hecate
And Pluto to look kindly on the dead,
We reverently washed, wrapped the remains
In fresh-plucked boughs, and burned them on a pyre.
Then on the dead we heaped his native earth.
Next to the maiden's bridal bower of death,
Within the hollowed rock, we took our way.
One of us hears afar a wailing shrill
Come from the spot where lay the unhallowed cell.
And running, tells to Creon what he heard.
To Creon's ear, as he drew nigh, was borne
A sound confused of weeping, and he cried
In bitterness, "Unhappy that I am,
Will my heart prove a prophet? Have I come
The most disastrous journey of my life?
Sure it is my son's voice that greets my ear.
Attendants, hasten to the cave of death,
Tear up the stones, creep to the chamber's mouth,
Tell me if Haemon's voice indeed I hear,
Or is it some illusion of my sense?"
We as our master in his anguish bade,
Looked in, and in the inmost cell we saw
The maiden hanging from the roof and dead,
A noose of shredded linen round her neck;
The youth, his arms folded around her waist,
Bewailing his lost bride, his marriage hour
Turned to despair, his father's cruelty.
Seeing him, Creon, with a bitter cry,
Moved towards him, and in anguish shrieked to him,
"My son, what hast thou done? what frantic thought
Possessed thy mind, how wast thou thus distraught?
Come forth, I do entreat thee, son, come forth."
Haemon, for answer, with eyes flashing rage,
Looked mute abhorrence, drew his two-edged sword,
And would have struck his father; but the King
Fled and escaped. Then on himself he turned
His wrath, and without more, into his breast
Drove to the hilt his sword, and conscious still,
Clung round the maiden with his failing arms,
While, swiftly welling from his wound, the blood
Spread over her pale cheek its crimson shower.
There lies he dead, with arms around the dead,
His marriage feast held in the world below,
Teaching by sad example that the worst
Of human evils is a mind distraught.
