Antigone Antigone O my dear sister, my best-beloved Ismene .' Is there an evil, by the tvrath of Jove Reserved for Ql]dipus' unhappy race, We have not felt already ? Sorrow and shame, And bitterness and anguish, all that's sad. All that's distressful, hath been ours, and now This dreadful edict from the tyrant comes To double our misfortunes. Hast thou heard What harsh commands he hath imposed on all. Or art thou still to know what future ills Our foes have vet in store to make us wretched ? When by each otlier's hand our brothei's fell, And Greece dismissed her armies^ I have heard Naught that could give or joy or grief to me. Antigone 1 thought thou wert a stranger to the tidings, And therefore called thee forth, that here alone I might impart them to thee. Ismene Oh ! what are they ? For something dreadful labours in thy breast. Antigone Know then, from Creon, our indulgent lord, Our hapless brothers met a different fate : To honour one, and one to infamy He hath consigned. With funeral rites he graced The body of our dear Eteocles, Whilst Polynices' wretched carcase lies Unburied, unlamented, left exposed A feast for hungry vultures on the plain. No pitying friend will dare to violate The tyrant's harsh command, for public death Awaits th' offender. Creon comes himself To tell us of it — such is our condition. , This is the crisis, this the hour, Ismene, , That must declare thee worthy of thy birth, I Or show thee mean, base, and degenerate. Ismene What wouldst thou have me do ? — defy his power? Contemn the laws ? Antigone To act with me, or not : Consider and resolve. Ismene What daring deed Wouldst thou attempt? What is it? Speak ! Antigone To join And take the body, my Ismene. Ismene Ha ! And wouldst thou dare to bury it, when thus We are forbidden? Antigone Aye, to bury Mm ! He is my brother, and thine too, Ismene ; Therefore, consent or not, I have determined I'll not disgrace my birth. Ismene Hath not the king Pronounced it death to all? Antigone He hath no right, No power to keep me from my own. Ismene Alas ! Remember our unhappy father's fate : His eyes torn out by his own fatal hand, Oppressed with shame and infamy he died ; Fruit of his crimes ! a mother, and a wife — Dreadful alliance ! — self-devoted, fell ; And last, in one sad day, Eteocles And Polynices by each other slain. Left as we are, deserted and forlorn. What from our disobedience can we hope But misery and ruin? Poor weak women, Helpless, nor formed by nature to contend With powerful man. We are his subjects too. Therefore to this, and worse than this, my sister, We must submit. For me, ii^ humblest prajgr Will I address me to th' infernal pow'rs For pardon of that crime which well they know Sprang from nec^^ssity, and then obey ; Since to attempt what we can never hope To execute, is folly all and madness. Antigone Wert thou to proffer what I do not ask— < Thy poor assistance — I would scorn it now. Let me perform but that, and death is welcome : I'll do the pious deed, and lay me down By my dear brother. Loving and beloved We'll rest together ; to the powers below 'Tis fit we pay obedience ; longer there We must remain than we can breathe on earth. There I shall dwell for ever; thou, meantime, What the gods hold most precious mayst despise. Ismene Act as thou wilt ; I'll bury him myself ; I reverence the gods ; but, in defiance Of laws, and unassisted to do this, Tt were most dangerous. Antigone That be thy excuse, Whilst I prepare the funeral pile. Ismene Alas ! I tremble for thee. Antigone Tremble for thyself, And not for me. Isii. Oh ! do not tell thy purpose, I beg thee, do not . T shall ne'er betray thee. Antigone I'd have it known ; and 1 shall hat-e thee more ^or thy concealment, than, if loud to all, Thou wouldst proclaim the deed. Ismene Thou hast a heart Too daring, and ill-suited to thy fate. Antigone I know my duty, and I'll pay it there Where 'twill be best accepted. Ismene Couldst thou do it ! But 'tis not in thy power. Antigone When I know that It will be time enough to quit my purpose. Ismene It cannot be ; 'tis folly to attempt it. Antigone Go on, and I shall hate thee ! Our dead brother, He too shall hate thee as his bitterest foe ; Go, leave me here to suffer for my rashness ; Whate'er befalls, it cannot be so dreadful As not to die with honour. Ismene Then farewell, Since thou wilt have it so ; and know, Ismene Pities thy weakness, but admires thy virtue. [Exeunt. By Diice's sweetly-flowing stream, Ne'er did the golden eye of day On Thfcbes with fairer lustre beam, Or shine with more auspicious ray. See the proud Argive, with his silver shield And glittering armour, quits the hostile plain; No longer dares maintain the luckless field, But vanquished flies, nor checks the loosened rein. With dreadful clangour, like the bird of Jove, On snowy wings descending from above, His vaunted powers to this devoted land, In bitterest wrath did Polynices lead, With crested helmets, and a numerous band He came, and fondly hoped that Thebes sl^puld bleed. , High on the lofty tower he stood, And viewed th' encircled gates below, With spears that thirsted for our blood, And seemed to scorn th' unequal foe ; But, fraught with vengeance^ ere the rising flame Could waste our bulwarks, or our walls surround, Mars to assist the fiery serpent came, And brought the towering eagle to the ground. That god who hates the boastings of the proud Saw the rude violence of th' exulting crowd ; Already now the triumph was prepared. The wreath of victory and the festal song, When Jove the clash of golden armour heard. And hurled his thunder on the guilty throng. Then Capaneus, elate with pride, Fierce as the rapid whirlwind came, Eager he seemed on every side To spread the all- devouring flame ; But soon he felt the winged lightning's blast, By angry heaven with speedy vengeance sent — Down from the lofty turrets headlong cast. For his foul crimes he met the punishment. Each at his gate, long time the leaders strove, Then fled, and left their arms to conquering Jove ; Save the unhappy death-devoted pair, The wretched brethren, who unconquered stood. With rancorous hate inspired, and fell despair. They reeked their vengeance in each other's blood. And lo ! with smiles propitious see To Thebes, for numerous cars renowned, The goddess comes, fair Victory, Witli fame and endless glory crowned ! Henceforth, no longer vexed by war's alarms, Let all our sorrows, all our labours cease ; Come, let us quit the din of rattling arms, And fill our temples with the songs of peace. The god of Thebes shall guide our steps aright, And crown with many a lay the festive night. But see, still anxious for his native land, Our king, Menfeceus' valiant son, appear ; With some fair omen by the gods' command He comes to met his aged council here. [Exeunt. Creon Scene II. Strophe i. Antistro'phe, i. Stro2yhe 2. AntistropJie 2. ACT II. Scene I. Chorus Creon At length our empire, shook by civil broils. The gods to peace and safety have restored ; Wherefore, my friends, you had our late request That you should meet us here ; for well I know Your firm allegiance to great Laius, next To (Edipus, and his unhappy sons ; These by each other's hand untimely slain, To me the sceptre doth of right descend, As next in blood. Never can man be know, His mind, his will, his passions ne'er appear Till power and office call them forth ; for me, 'Tis my firm thought, and I have held it ever, That he who rules and doth not follow that Which wisdom counsels, but, restrained by fear, Shuts up his lips, must be the worst of men ; Nor do I deem him worthy who prefers A friend, how dear soever, to his country. Should I behold — witness all-seeing Jove ! — This city wronged, I never would be silent, Never would make the foe of Thebes my friend, For on her safety must depend our own j And if she flourish we can never want Assistance or support. Thus would I act, And therefore have I sent my edict forth Touching the sons of OEdipus, commanding That they should bury him who nobly fought And died for Thebes, the good Eteocles, Gracing his memory with each honour due To the illustrious dead. For Polynices, Abandoned exile, for a brother's blood Thirsting insatiate — he who would in flames Have wasted all, his country and his gods. And made you slaves — I have decreed he lie Unburied, his vile carcase to the birds And hungry dogs a prey. There let him rot Inglorious — 'tis my will ; for ne'er from me Shall vice inherit virtue's due reward, But him alone who is a friend to Thebes, Living or dead shall Creon reverence still. Choe. Son of Menseceus, 'twas thy great behest Thus to reward them both ; thine is the power O'er all supreme, the living and the dead. Creon Be careful then my orders are obeyed. Chorus O sir ! to younger hands commit the task. Creon I have appointed some to watch the body. Chorus What then remains for us ? Creon To see that none By your connivance violate the law. Chorus Scarce will the man be found so fond of death As to attempt it. Creon Death is the reward Of him who dares it j but oftimes by hope Of sordid gain are men betrayed to ruin. SCBNS II. Messenger Creon, Chorus. Messenger O king ! I cannot boast that hither sent I came with speed, for oft my troubled thoughts Have driven me back ; oft to myself I said, Why dost thou seek destruction ? Yet again If thou report it not, from other tongues Creon must hear the tale, and thou wilt sutier. With doubts like these oppressed, slowly I came, And the short way seemed like a tedious journey ; At length I come, resolved to tell thee all : Whate'er the event, 1 must submit to fate. Creon Whence are thy fears, and why this hesita- Messenger First for myself ; I merit not thy wrath ; It was not I, nor have I seen the man Who did the guilty deed. Creon Something of weight Thou hast t' impart, by this unusual care To guard thee from our anger. Messenger Fear will come Where danger is. Creon Speak, and thou hast thy pardon. Messenger The body of Polynices some rash hand Hath buried, scattered o'er his corpse the dust, And funeral rites performed. Creon Who dared do this ? Messenger 'Tis yet unknown ; no mark of instrument Is left behind : the earth still level all, Nor worn by track of chariot wheel. The guard, Who watched that day, call it a miracle ; No tomb was raised ; light lay the scattered earth, As only meant to avoid the imputed curse ; Nor could we trace the steps of dog or bea.st Passing that way. Instant a tumult rose ; The guards accused each other ; nought was proved, But each suspected each, and all denied, Offering, in proof of innocence, to grasp The burning steel, to walk through fire, and take Their solemn oath they knew not of the deed ; At length, one mightier than the rest, proposed — Nor could we think of better means — that all Should be to thee discovered ; 'twas my lot To bring th' unwelcome tidings, and I come To pour my news unwilling into ears Unwilling to receive it, for 1 know None ever loved the messenger of ill. Chorus To me it seems as if the hand of heaven \ Were in this deed. i Creon Be silent, ere my rage, Thou rash old man, pronounce thee fool and dotard ; Horrid suggestion ! Think'st thou, then, the gods \ Take care of men like these? Would they preserve Or honour him who came to burn their altars, Profane their rites, and trample on their laws ? Will they reward the bad? it cannot be. But well I know the murmuring citizens Brooked not our mandate, shook their heads in secret. And, ill-affected to me, would not stoop Their haughty crests, or bend beneath my yoke. By hire corrupted, some of these have dared The venturous deed. ( Gold is the worst of ills ^ That ever plagued mankind :^this wastes our cities, Diives forth their natives to a foreign soil, Taints the pure heart, and turns the virtuous mind To basest deeds ) artificer of fraud Supreme, and source of every wickedness. ^ The wretch corrupted for this hateful purpose Must one day suffer ; foi-, observe me well. As I revere that power by whom I swear, Almighty Jove, if you conceal him from me. If to my eyes you do not bring the traitor. Know, death alone shall not suffice to glut My vengeance ; Uving shall you hang in torments Till you confess, till you have learned from me There is a profit not to be desired. And own dishonest gains have ruined more Than they have saved. O king ! may I depart, Watchman Or wait thy further orders Creon Knowst thou not Watchman Thy speech is hateful \ Hence ! Messenger Wherefore, my lord? CiiEON. Know you not why? Messenger I but offend your ear, They who have done the deed afllict your soul. Creon Away ! Thy talk but makes thy guilt appear. Messenger My lord, I did not do it. Creon Thou hast sold Thy life for gain. Messenger 'Tis cruel to suspect me. Creon Thou talkst it bravely ; but remember all, 'Unless you do produce him, you shall find The miseries which on ill-got wealth await. \Exit. Messenger Would he were found. That we must leave to fate ; Be it as it may, I never will return : Thus safe beyond my hopes, 'tis fit I pay My thanks to the kind gods who have preserved me. Since first this active world began. Nature is busy all in every part ; But passing all in wisdom and in art, Superior shines inventive man : Fearless oibvintry winds and circling waves, le ocean and the tempest braves ; 'him unwearied earth with lavish hand, Immortal goddess, all her'bounty pours. Patient beneath the rigid plough's command, Year after year she yields her plenteous stores. AiitistrojyJie i. To drive the natives of the wood From their rude haunts, or in the cruel snare, To catch the winged inhabitants of air, Or trap the scaly brood ; To tame the fiery courser yet unbroke With the hard rein, or to the untried yoke To bend the mountain bull, who wildly free O'er the steep rocks had wandered unconfined — These are the arts of mortal industry, And such the subtle power of humankind. By learning, and fair science crowned. Behold him now full-fraught with wisdom's lore, The laws of nature anxious to explore. With depth of thought profound. But naught, alas ! can human wisdom see In the dark bosom of futurity. The power of wisdom may awhile prevail, Awhile suspend a mortal's fleeting breath, But never can her fruitless arts avail To conquer fate, or stop the hand of death. Man's ever-active changeful will Sometimes to good shall bend his virtuous mind, Sometimes behold him to foul deeds inclined. And prone to every ill. Who guiltless keeps the laws is still approved By every tongue, and by his country loved ; But he who doth not, from his native land A wretched exile, far, oh ! far from me May he be driven, by angry Heaven's command,- And live devote to shame and infamy ! Chorus \Exit. Scene III. Strophe i. Stroj)lie 2. Antistroplie. 2. Amazement ! Can it be Antigone ? Or do my eyes deceive me ? No, she comes. O ! wretched daughter of a wretched father ! Hast thou trangressed the laws, and art thou ta'en In this adventurous deed, unhappy maid ? Antigone Scene IV. Guard, Chorus. Guard Behold tho woman who hath done the deed ! I' th' very act of burial we surprised her. Where is the king ? Chorus Returned, as we could wish ; E'en now he comes this way. Creon Scene V. Antigone, Guard, Chorus. Creon Whom have we here ? Doth justice smile upon usi Guard O my lord ! Never should man too confident assert, Much less by oath should bind himself to aught, For soon our judgments change, and one opinion Destroys another. By thy threats alarmed But now, I vowed I never would return ; Yet thus preserved beyond my hopes, I come, Bound by that duty which I owe to thee And to my country, to bring here this virgin. Whom, as she sprinkled o'er her brother's dust The varied wreath, we seized. The wilKng task Was mine, nor as of late by lot determined. Receive her then, O king ! Judge and condemn The guilty as it best becomes thy wisdom ; Henceforth I stand acquitted. Creon But say how, Where didst thou find her ? Guard To say all, 'twas she Who buried Polynices. Creon Art thou sure ? Guard These eyes beheld her. Creon But say, how discovered ? Than, mindful of thy wrath, with careful hands From off the putrid carcase we removed The scattered dust ; then, to avoid the stench, ExhaHng noisome, to a hill retired ; There watched at distance, till the mid-day sun Scorched o'er our heads. Sudden a storm arose, vShook every leaf, and rattled through the grove, Filling the troubled element. We closed Our eyes, and patient bore the wrath of heaven. At length the tempest ceased, when we beheld This virgin issuing forth, and heard her cries Distressful, like the plaintive bird who views The plundered nest, and mourns her ravished young. E'en thus the maid, when on the naked corse She cast her eyes, loud shrieked, and cursed the hand That did the impious deed, then sprinkled o'er The crumbled earth, and from a brazen urn, Of lichest work, to the levied relics thrice Her due libations poured. We saw, and straight Pursued her. XJnappalled she seemed, and still As we did question her, confessed it all. It pleased, and yet methought it grieved me too. To find ourselves released from woe is bliss Supreme, but thus to see our friends unhappy Embitters all. I must be thankful still For my own safety, which I hold most dear. Creon (5 uard. Thus then it waa, No sooner had J left thee Speak thou, who bendst to earth thy droopiiig head; Dost thou deny the fact 1 Antigone Deny it ? No ! 'Twas I. Creon \to the Guard]. Retire, for thou art free ; and Be brief, and tell me ; heardst thou our decree ? Antigone I did ; 'twas public. How could I avoid it ] Creon And dar'st thou then to disobey the law ? Antigone I had it not from Jove, nor the just gods Who rule below ; nor could I ever think A mortal's law of power or strength sufficient To abrogate th* unwritten law divine, Immutable, eternal, not like these Of yesterday, ill man pei but made ere time began. Heaven's great commands, violate and make the gods my foes ? Without thy mandate, death had one day come ; For who shall 'scape it ? and if now I fall A little sooner, 'tis the thing I wish. To those who live in misery like me, Believe me, king, 'tis happiness to die ; Without remorse I shall embrace my fate; But to my brother had I left the rites Of sepulture unpaid, I then indeed Had been most wretched. Tliis to thee may seem Madness and folly. If it be, 'tis fit I should act thus — it but resembles thee. Creon Sprung from a sire perverse and obstinate, Like him she cannot bend beneath misfortune ; But know, the proudest hearts may be subdued ; Hast thou not marked the hardest steel by fire Made soft and flexible ? Myself have seen By a slight rein the fiery courser held. "Ks not for slaves to be so haughty ; yet This proud offender, not content, it seems, To violate my laws, adds crime to crime, Smiles at my threats, and glories in her guilt ; If I should suffer her to 'scape my vengeance, She were the man, not I ; but though she sprang E'en from my sister, were I bound to her By ties more dear than is Hercsean Jove, She should not 'scape. Her sister too I find Accomplice in the deed — go, call her forth ! She is within, I saw her ra\dng there, Her senses lost, the common fate of those Who practise dark and deadly wickedness. I cannot bear to see the guilty stand Convicted of their crimes, and yet pretend To gloss them o'er with specious names of virtue. Antigone \to one, of the Attendants I am thy captive ; thou wouldst have my life ; Will that content thee? Creon Yes ; tis all I wish. Antigone Why this delay then, when thou knowst my To thee as hateful are as thine to me? \ [words Therefore dispatch ; I cannot live to do A deed more glorious ; and so these would all Confess, were not their tongues restrained by fear ; It is the tyrant's privilege, we know. To speak and act whate'er he please, uncensured. Creon \jpointing to the, CflORUS Lives there another in the land of Thebes Who thinks as thou dost? Antigone Yes, a thousand ; these — These think so too, but dare not utter it. Creon Dost thou not blush? Antigone For what? Why blush to pay A sister's duty 1 Creon But, Eteocles ! Say, was not he thy brother too? Antigone He was. Creon Why then thus reverence him who least de- served it? Antigone Perhaps that brother thinks not so. Creon He must, If thou payst equal honour to them both. Antigone He was a brother, not a slave. Creon One fought Against that country which the other saved. Antigone But equal death the rites of sepulture Decrees to both. Creon What ! Eeverence alike The guilty and the innocent ! Antigone Perhaps The gods below esteem it just. Creon A foe. Though dead, should as a foe be treated still. Antigone My love shall go with thine, but not my hate. Creon Go then, and love them in the tomb ! But know, No woman rules in Thebes whilst Creon lives. Chorus Lo ! At the portal stands the fair Ismene, Tears in her lovely eyes, a cloud of grief Sits on her brow, wetting her beauteous cheek With pious sorrow for a sister's fate. Ismene Scene VI. Antigone, Creon, Chorus. Creon Come forth, thou serpent ! Little did I think That I had nourished two such deadly foes To suck my blood, and cast me from my throne. "What sayst thou? Wert thou accomplice in the deed, Or wilt thou swear that thou ait innocent ? Ismene I do acknowledge it, if she permit me ; I w^as accomplice, and the crime was mine. Antigone 'Tis false ; thou didst refuse, nor would I hold Communion with thee. Ismene But in thy misfortunes Let me partake, my sister ; let me be A fellow-sufferer with thee. Antigone Witness, death, And ye infernal gods, to which belongs The great, the glorious deed ! I do not love These friends in word alone. Do not despise me ; I but ask to die With thee, and pay due honours to the dead. Antigone Pretend not to a merit which thou hast not. Live thou ; it is enough for me to perish. Ismene But what is life without thee ? Antigone Ask thy friend And patron there. \Pointing to Creon. Ismene Why that unkind reproach, When tbou shouldst rather comfort me? Antigone Alas! It gives me pain when I am forced to speak 80 bitterly against thee. Ismene Is there aught That I can do to save thee? Antigone Save thyself, I shall not envy thee. Ismene And will you not Pe>mit me then to share your fate ? Antigone Thy choice Was life. 'Tis mine to die. Ismene T told thee oft It would be so. Antigone Thou didst, and was 't not well Ismene Thus to fulfil thy prophecy ? The crime Was mutual ; mutual be the punishment. Antigone Fear not. Thy Hfe is safe, but mine long since Devoted to the dead. Creon Both seem deprived Of reason. One indeed was ever thus. Ismene O king ! (The mind doth seldom keep her seat When sunk beneath misfortunes.) i-. Creon Sunk indeed Thou wert in wretchedness to join with her. Ismene But what is hfe without Antigone? Creon Then think not of it. For she is no more. Ismene Wouldst thou destroy thy son's long-destined wife? Creon Oh ! we shall find a fitter bride. Ismene Alas ! He will not think so. Creon I'll not wed my son To a base woman. Antigone O my dearest Hsemon ! And is it thus thy father doth disgrace thee ? Creon Such an alliance were as hateful to me As is thyself. . Ismene Wilt thou then take her from him ? Creon Their nuptials shall be finished by death. Ismene She then must perish ? Creon ^o must you and I ; Therefore no more delay. Go, take them hence ; Confine them both. Henceforth they shall not stir ; When death is near at hand the bravest fly. Thrice bappy they, whose days in pleasure flow, Wlio never taste the bitter cup of woe ; For when the wrath of heaven descends On some devoted house, there foul disgrace, With grief and all her train attends, And shame and sorrow o'erwhelm the wretched race. E'en as the Thracian sea, when vexed with storms. Whilst darkness hangs incumbent o'er the deep. When the black north the troubled scene deforms, And the black sands in rapid whirlwinds sweep. The groaning waves beat on the trembling shore, And echoing hills rebellow to the roar. O Labdacus ! thy house must perish all — E'en now I see the stately ruin fall ; Shame heaped on shame, and ill on ill, Disgrace and never-ending woes ; Some angry god pursues thee still. Nor grants or safety or repose. One fair and lovely branch unwithered stood And braved th' inclement skies ; But Pluto comes, inexorable god — She sinks, she raves, she dies. Shall man below control the gods above, Whose eyes by all- subduing sleep Are never closed as feeble mortals' are, But still their watchful vigils keep Through the large circle of th' eternal year ! Great lord of all, whom neither time nor age With envious stroke can weaken or decay ; He who alone the future can presage. Who knows alike to-morrow as to-day ; Whilst wretched man is doomed, by Heaven's decree. To toil and pain, to sin and misery. Of times the flatterer Hope, that joy inspires, Fills the proud heart of man with fond desires ; He, careless traveller, wanders still Through life, unmindful of deceit, Nor dreads the danger, till he feel The burning sands beneath his feet. When heaven impels to guilt the maddening mind. Then good like ill appears. And vice, for universal hate designed, The face of virtue wears. [Exeunt. Creon Strojilie r. Antistrophe i. Strcyphe 2. Antistrophe 2. ACT III. Scene I. HiEMON, Chorus. Chorus Behold, O king ! thy youngest hope appear The noble Hsemon. Lost in grief he seems. Creon He comes, and better than a prophet, soon Shall we divine his inmost thoughts. My son, Com'st thou, well knowing our decree, to mourn Thy promised bride, and angry to dispute Haemon A father's will ; or, whatsoe'er we do Still to hold best, and pay obedience to us ] H^. My father, I am thine. Do thou command, And I in all things shall obey. 'Tis fit My promised nuptial rites give place to thee. Creon It will become thee with obedience thus To bear thee ever, and in every act To yield submissive to a father's will : 'Tis therefore, O my son ! that men do pray For children who with kind officious duty May guard their helpless age, resist their foes, And like their parents love their parents' friend ; But he who gets a disobedient child. What doth he get but misery and woe ? His enemies will laugh the wretch to scorn. Take heed, my son, thou yield not up thy reason, In hopes of pleasure from a worthless woman ; For cold is the embrace of impious love, And deep tlie wounds of false dissembled friendship. Hate then thy bitterest foe, despise her arts, And leave her to be wedded to the tomb. Of all the city her alone I found Rebellious ; but I have her, nor shall Thebes Say I'm a liar : I pronounced her fate. And she must perish. Let her call on Jove, Who guards the rights of kindred and the ties Of nature ; for if those b}; blood united Transgress the laws, I hold myself more near E'en to a stranger. Who in private Ufe Is just and good, will to his country too Be faithful ever ; but the man who, proud And fierce of soul, contemns authority, Despiseth justice, and o'er those who rule Would have dominion, such shall never gain Th' applauding voice of Creon. He alone, Whom the consenting citizens approve Th' acknowledged sovereign, should in all command. Just or unjust his laws, in things of great Or little import, whatsoe'er he bids : A subject is not to dispute his will ; He knows alike to rule and to obey ; And in the day of battle will maintain The foremost rank, his country's best defence. Kebellion is the worst of human ills ; This ruins kingdoms, this destroys the peace Of noblest families, this wages war, And puts the bmve to flight ; whilst fair obedience Keeps all in safety. To preserve it ever Should be a king's first care. We will not yield To a weak woman ; if we must submit, At least we will be conquered by a man, Nor by a female arm thus fall inglorious.^J^ H^. Wisdom, my father, is the noblest giffcl The gods bestow on man, and better far Than all his treasures. Why thy judgment deems* Most fit, I cannot, would not repreheitd. Others perhaps might call it Avrong. For me, My duty only bids me to inform you If aught be done or said that casts reproach Or blame on you. Such terror would thy looks Strike on the low plebeian, that he dare not Say aught unpleasing to thee ; be it mine To tell thee then what I of late have heard In secret whispered. Your afflicted people United mourn th' unhappy virgin's fate Unmerited, most wretched of her sex, To die for deeds of such distinguished virtue, For that she would not let a brother lie Unburied, to the dogs and birds a prey ; Was it not rather, say the murmuring crowd. Worthy of golden honours and fair praise ? Such are their dark and secret discontents. Thy welfare and thy happiness alone Are all my wish ; what can a child desire More than a father's honour, or a father More than his child's ? Oh ! do not then retain Thy will, and still believe no sense but thine _ Can judge aright ! The man who proudly thinks 7 None but himself or eloquent, or wise, ^ By time betrayed, is branded for an idiot ; \ True wisdom will be ever glad to learn, And not too fond of power. Observe the trees That bend to wintry torrents, how their boughs Unhurt remain, whilst those that brave the storm, Uprooted torn, shall wither and decay ; The pilot, whose unslackened sail defies Contending winds, with shattered bark pursues His dangerous course. Then mitigate thy wrath My father, and give way to sweet repentance. If to my youth be aught of judgment given, He, who by knov/ledge and true wisdom's rules F ANTIGO.VE. Guides every action, is the first of men ; But since to few that happiness is given, The next is he, who, not too proud to learn, Follows the counsels of the wise and good, Chorus O king ! if right the youth advise, 'tis fit Haemon Thtit thou shouldst listen to him ; so to thee Chorus Should he attend, as best may profit both. Creon And have we lived so long then to be taught At last our duty by a boy like thee ? Haemon H.i<:. Young though I am, I still may judge aright ; Wisdom^in action lies, and not in years, Creon Call you it wisdom then'^o honour those Who disobey the laws? Haemon HiE. I would not have thee Protect the wicked. Creon Is she not most guilty Haemon H^. Thebes doth not think her so. Creon Shall Thebes prescrioe To Creon's will ? Haemon H^. How weakly dost thou talk ! Creon Am I king here, or shall another reign ? Haemon H^. 'Tis not a city where but one man rules. Creon The city is the king's. HiE. Go by thyself then. Haemon And rule henceforth o'er a deserted land. Creon [to the Chorus]. He pleads the woman's cause. Haemon H^. If thou art she, I do ; for, oh ! I speak but for thy sake — My care is all for thee. Creon Abandoned wretch ! Dispute a father's will ! Haemon H^. I see thee err, And therefore do it. Creon Is it then a crime To guard my throne and rights from violation ? Haemon H^ He cannot guard them who contemns the gods And violates their laws. Creon Oh ! thou are worse, More impious e'en than her thou hast defended. H^. Naught have I done to merit this reproof. Haemon Oreon. Hast thou not pleaded for hei- ? H^. No, for thee, And for myself — for the infernal gods. Creon But know, she shall not live to be thy wife. Haemon H^. Then she must die ; another too may fall. Creon Ha ! dost thou threaten me, audacious traitor? H.E. What are my threats ? Alas ! thou heedst them Haemon not. Creon That thou shalt see; thy insolent instruction Shall cost thee dear. Haemon H/E. But for thou art my father Now would I say thy senses were impaired. Creon Think not to make me thus thy scorn and laughter, Thou woman's slave. Haemon Hjb. Still wouldst thou speak thyself^ And never listen to the voice of truth ; Such is thy will. Creon Now, by Olympus here ! I swear thy vile reproaches shall not pass Unpunished. Call her forth ! Before her bridegroom Haemon She shall be brought, and peiish in his sight. Hje. These eyes shall never see it. Let the slaves Who fear thy rage submit to it; but know, 'Tis the last time thou shalt behold thy son. Creon \To one of the Attendants. \^Exit H.E3I0N. Scene II. Chorus. Chorus Sudden in anger fled the youth. O king ! A mind oppressed like his is desperate. Creon Why, let him go ! and henceforth better learn Than to oppose me. Be it as it may. Death is their portion, and he shall not save them. Chorus Must they both die then? No ; 'tis well advised, but for Antigoue- Ismene lives Chorus O king 1 what death is she decreed to suffer CiiEON. Far from the haunts of men I'll have her led, And in a rocky cave, beneath the earth, Buried alive ; with her a little food. Enough to save the city from pollution. There let her pray the only god she worships To save her from this death : perhaps he will. Or, if he doth not, let her learn how vain It is to reverence the powers below. [^Exit Creon. Mighty power, all powers above, Great unconquerable love ! Thou, who liest in dimple sleek On the tender virgin's cheek, Thee the rich and great obey, Every creature owns thy sway. O'er the wide earth and o'er the main Extends thy universal reign ; All thy maddening influence know, Gods above and men below ; All thy powers resistless prove, Great unconquerable love ! Thou canst lead the just astray From wisdom and from virtue's way ; The ties of nature cea^e to bind. When thou disturbst the captive mind Behold, enslaved by fond desire, The youth condemns his aged sire Enamoured of his beauteous maid, Nor laws nor parents are obeyed ; Thus Venus wills it from above, And great unconquerable love. Chorus Scene III. Strophe I. Aniistrophe i. E'en I beyond the common bounds of grief Indulge my sorrows, and from these sad eyes Fountains of tears will flow, when I behold Antigone unhappy maid, approach The bed of death, and hasten to the tomb* Antigone Scene IV. Chords. Antigone Farewell, my friends, my countrymen, farewell ! Here on her last sad journey you behold The poor Antigone ; for never more Shall I return, or view the light of day : The hand of death conducts me to the shore Of dreary Acheron ; no nuptial song Reserved for me — the wretched bride alone Of Pluto now, and wedded to the tomb. Chorus Be it thy glory still, that by the sword Thou fallst not, nor the slow-consuming hand Of foul distemperature, but far distinguished Above thy sex, and to thyself a law, Doomst thy own death : so shall thy honour Hve, And future ages venerate thy name. Antigone Thus Tantalus' unhappy daughter fell. The Phrygian Niobe. High on the top Of towering Sipylus the rock enfolds her, E'en as the ivy twines her tendrils round The lofty oak ; there still (as fame reports) To melting showers and everlasting snow Obvious she stands, her beauteous bosom wet With tears, that from her ever-streaming eyes Incessant flow. Her fate resembles mine. Chorus A goddess she, and from a goddess sprung ; We are but mortal, and of mortals born : To meet the fate of gods thus in thy life, A.nd in thy death, oh ! 'tis a glorious doom ! Antigone Ahis I thou mockst me ! Why, whilst yet 1 Hve, Wouldht thou afflict me with reproach Uke this / O my dear country ! and my dearer friends Its blest inhabitants, renowned Thebes! And ye Dirca^an fountains ! you I call To \ntness that I die by laws unjust, To my deep prison unlamented go, To my sad tomb — no fellow-sufferer there To soothe my woes, the living, or the dead. Chorus Rashness like thine must meet with such reward ; A father's crimes, I fear, lie heavy on thee. Antigone Oh ! thou hast touched my worst of miseries. My father's fate, the woes of all our house, The wretched race of Labdacus, renowned For its misfortunes ! Oh ! the guilty bed Of those from whom I sprang — unhappy offspring Of parents most unhappy ! Lo ! to them 1 go accursed — a virgin and a slave. O my poor brother ! most unfortunate Were thy sad nuptials — they have slain thy sister. Chorus Thy piety demands our praise ; but know, Authority is not to be despised ; 'Twas thy own rashness brought destruction on thee. Antigone Thus friendless, unlamented, must I tread The destined path, no longer to behold Yon sacred light, and none shall mourn my fate. Creon Scene V. Antigone, Chorus, Creon Know ye not, slaves like her, to death devoted, Would never cease their wailings ? Wherefore is it You thus delay to execute my orders ? Let her be carried instant to the cave. And leave her there alone, to live, or die ; Her blood rests not on us ; but she no longer Shall breathe on earth, [#xit CRrEox, Antigone Scene VI. Chorus. Antigone O dreadful marriage bed ! O my deep dungeon ! My eternal liome, Whither I go to join my kindred dead ! For not a few hath fell Persephone Already ta'en ; to her I go, the last And most unhappy, ere my time was come ; But still I have sweet hope I shall not go Unwelcome to my father, nor to thee, • My mother. Dear to thee, Eteocles^ Still shall I ever be. These pious hands Washed your pale bodies, and adorned you botli With rites sepulchral, and libations due ! And thus, my Polynices, for my care Of thee am I rewarded, and the good Alone shall praise me. For a husband dead, j -^-"-^ Nor, had 1 been a mother, for my children ' Would I have dared to violate the laws : Another husband and another child Might soothe affliction. But, my parents dead, A brother's loss could never be repaired. And therefore did I dare the venturous deed, And therefore die by Creon's dread command. Ne'er shall i taste of Hymen's joys, or know A mother's pleasures in her infant race ; But, friendless and forlorn, alive descend Into the dreary mansion;^ of the dead. And how have I offended the just gods ! But wherefore call on them? Will they protect me, When thus I meet with the reward of ill For doing good? If this be just, ye gods, If I am guilty, let me suffer foi' it. But if the crime be theirs, oh ! let them feel That weight of misery they have laid on me ! Chorus The storm continues, and her angry soul Still pours its sorrows forth. Creon HCENE VI 1 Antigone, Chorus. Creon The slaves shall suffer For this delay. Antigone Alas ! death cannot be Far from that voice. Creon I would not have thee hope A moment's respite. Antigone O my country's gods ! And thou, my native Thebes ! I leave you now. Look on me, princes — see the last of all My royal race—see what I suffer, see From whom I bear it, from the worst of men, Only because I did delight in \artue. \^Exit Creon. Antigone Scene Vlll. Chorus. Remember what fair Danae endured, Condemned to change he^iven's cheerful light For scenes of horror and of night, Within a brazen tower long time immured ; Yet was the maid of noblest race, And honoured e'en with Jove's embrace ; But, oh ! when fate decrees a mortal's woe Naught can reverse the doom or stop the blow — Nor heaven above, nor earth and seas below. The Thracian monarch, Dryas' hapless son, Chained to a rock in to rment lay. And breathed his angry soul away, By wrath misguided, and by pride undone ; Taught by the offended god to know From foul reproach what evils flow ; For he the rites profaned with slanderous tongue, The holy flame he quenched, disturbed the song, A.nd waked to wrath the Muses' tuneful throng. His turbid waves where Salmydessus rolled, And proud Oyaneji-'s rocks divide the flood, There from thy temple. Mars, didst thou behold The sons of Phineus weltering in their blood ; A mother did the cruel deed, A mother bade her children bleed ; Both by her impious hand, deprived of light, In vain lamented long their ravished sight, And closed their eyes in never-ending night, Long time they wept a better mother's fate, Unhappy offspring of a luckless bed ? Yet nobly born, and eminently great Was she, and midst sequestered caverns bred — Her father's angry storms among, Daughter of gods, from Boreas sprung — Equal in swiftness to the bounding steed. She skimmed the mountains with a courser's speed, Yet was the nymph to death and misery decreed. fjo ANTlGOiSlE. Tiresias Stro2)hG I. Antistrophe i. Strophe 2. Aritistrophe 2. {Exeunt. ACT IV. Scene 1. Guide, Creon, Chorus. Tiresias Princes of Thebes, behold, conducted hither By my kind guide — such is the blind man's fate— Tiresias comes ! What hast thou to impart? Tiresias Creon. 0 venerable prophet ! 1 will inform thee ; Observe, and be obedient. Creon Have I not been ever so? Tiresias Thou hast ; and therefore Thebes Hath flourished still Creon By thy protecting hand. Tiresias Therefore be wise. For know, this very hour Is the important crisis of thy fate. Creon Spe^ik then ! What is it ] How I dread tlr words ! Tiresias When thou hast heard the portents which my art But now discovered, thou wilt see it all. Know then that, sitting on my ancient throne Augurial, whence each divination comes, Sudden a strange unusual noise was heard Of birds, whose loud and barbarous dissonance I knew not how to interpret. By the sound Of clashing wings I could discover well That with their bloody claws they tore each other ; Amazed and fearful, instantly I tried On burning altars holy sacrifice — When, from the victim, lo ! the sullen flame Aspired not. Smothered in the ashes still Laid the moist flesh, and, rolled in smoke, repelled The rising fire, whil^ Were separate. All these .signs of deadly omen, from their fat the thighs Boding dark vengeance, did I learn from hiru ; He is my leader, king, and 1 am thine. Then mark me well. From thee these evils flow, From thy unjust decree. Our altars all Have been polluted by th' unhallowed food Of birds and dogs, that preyed upon the corse Of wretched CEdipus' unhappy son ; Nor will the gods accept our offered prayers, Or from our hands receive the sacrifice ; No longer will the birds send forth their sounds Auspicious, fattened thus with human blood. Consider this, my son. And, oh ! remember, To err is human — 'tis the common lot Of frail mortality ; and he alone Is wise and happy, who, when ills are done, Persists not, but would heal the wound he made ; But self-sufficient obstinacy ever Is folly's utmost height. Where is the glory To slay the slain or persecute the dead ? I wish thee well, and therefore have spoke thus ; When those who love advise 'tis sweet to learn. Creon [Pointing to the Guide. I know, old man, I am the general marlc, The butt of all, and you all aim at me. For me I know your prophecies were made. And I am sold to this detested race — Betrayed to them. But make your gains ! Go, purchase Your Sardian amber, and your Indian gold ; They shall not buy a tomb for Polynices. No, should the eagle seoJc him for his food. And towering bear him to the throne of Jove, I would not bury him. For well I know The gods by mortals cannot be polluted ; But the best men, by sordid gain corrupt. Say all that's ill, and fall beneath the lowest. Tiresias Who knows this, or who dare accuse us of it ? Creon What meanst thou by that question ? Askst thou who ? Tiresias How far is wisdom beyond every good ! Creon As far as folly beyond every ill. Tiresias That's a distemper thou 'rt afflicted with. Creon I'll not revile a prophet. Tiresias But thou (.lost ; Thou 'It not believe me. Are lovers all of gold. Tiresias Creon. Your prophetic race Tyrants are so, Howe'er ilKgotten. Creon Knowst thou 'tis a kinjj Thou 'rt talking thus to ? Tiresias Yes, T know it well ; A king who owes to nie his country's safety. Creon Thou'rt a wise prophet, but thou art unjust. Tiresias Thou wilt oblige me then to utter that Which 1 had purposed to conceal. Creon Speak out. Say what thou wilt, but say it not for hire. Tiresias Thus may it seem to thee. Creon But know, old man, I am not to be sold. Tiresias E«member this : Not many days shall the bright sun perform His stated course, ere, sprung from thy own loins, Thyself shall yield a victim. In thy turn Thou too shalt weep, for that thy cruel sentence Decreed a guiltless virgin to the tomb, And kept on earth, unmindful of the gods, Ungraced, unburied, an unhallowed corse. Which not to thee, nor to the gods above Of right belonged. 'Twas arbitrary power : But the avenging furies lie concealed. The minister of death have spread the snare, And with like woes await to punish thee. Do I say this from hopes of promised gold ? Pass but a little time, and thou shalt hear The shrieks of men, the women's loud laments O'er all thy palace ; see th' offended people Together rage ; thy cities all by dogs And beasts and birds polluted, and the stench Of filth obscene on every altar laid. Thus from my angry soul have I sent forth Its keenest arrows — for thou hast provoked me— Nor shall they fly in vain, or thou escape The destined blow. Now, boy, conduct me home, On younger heads the tempest of his rage Shall fall ; but, henceforth let him learn to speak In humbler terms, and bear a better mind. Oreon, Chorus. Chorus [Exit TiRESIAS. Scene II. He's gone, and dreadful were his prophecies ; Since these grey hairs were o'er my temples spread Nought from those lips hath flowed but sacred truth. Creon I know there hath not, and am troubled much For the event ; 'tis grating to submit. And yet the mind spite of itself must yield In such distress. Chorus Son of Menaeceus, now Thou needst most counsel. Creon What wouldst thou advise ? I will obey thee. Chorus Set the virgin free, And let a tomb be raised for Polynices. Creon And dost thou counsel thus ? — and must I yield? Chorus Immediately, O king ! for vengeance falls With hasty footsteps on the guilty head. Creon I cannot — yet I must reverse the sentence ; There is no struggling with necessity. Chorus Do it thyself, nor trust another hand. Creon I will ; and you my servants, be prepared ; Each with his axe quick hasten to the place ; Myself — for thus I have resolved — will go, And the same hand that bound shall set her free ; For, oh ! I fear 'tis wisest still through life To keep our ancient laws, and follow virtue. Bacchus, by vaiious names to mortals known, Fair Semele's illustrious son, Offspring of thunder-bearing Jove, Who honourst famed Italia with thy love I Who dwellst where erst the dragon's teeth were strewed, Or where Ismenus pours his gentle flood ; Who dost o'er Ceres' hallowed rites preside, And at thy native Thebes propitious still reside. Where famed Parnassus' forked hills uprise. To thee ascends the sacritice ; Corycia's nymphs attend below, Whilst from Castalia's fount fresh waters flow : O'er Nysa's mountains wreaths of ivy twine, And mix their tendrils with the clustering vine : Around their master crowd the virgin throng, And praise the god of Thebes in never-dying song. Happiest of cities, Thebes ! above the rest By Semele and Bacchus blest ! Oh ! ^dsit now thy once beloved abode, Oh ! heal our woes, thou kind protecting god ! From steep Parnassus, or th' Euboean sea. With smiles auspicious come, and bring with thee Health, joy, and peace, and fair prosperity. Immortal leader of the maddening choir, Whose torches blaze with unextinguished fire. Great son of Jove, who guidst the tuneful throng, Thou, who presidest o'er the nightly song. Come with thy Naxian maids, a festive train, Who, wild with joy, and raging o'er the plain, For thee the dance prepare, to thee devote the strain. Messenger Scene III. Strophe i. Antistrophe i. Strophe 2. Antistrophe 2. \ExQiint. ACT V. Scene I. Chorus. Messenger Ye race of Cadmus, sons of ancient Thebes, Henceforth no state of human life by me Shall be or valued or despised : for all Depends on fortune ; she exalts the low. And casts the mighty down. The fate of men Can never be foretold. There was a time When Creon lived in envied happiness, Ruled o'er renowned Thebes, which from her foes He had delivered, with successful power; Blest in his kingdom, in his children blest, He stretched o'er all his universal sway. Now all is gone : when pleasure is no more, Man is but an animated corse, Nor can be said to live ; he may be rich. Or decked with regal honours, but if joy Be absent from him, if he tastes them not, I 'Tis useless grandeur all, and empty shade. \ Chorus Touching our royal master, bringst thou news Of sorrow to us? Messenger They are dead ; and those Who live the dreadful cause. Choe. Quick, tell us who — The slayer and the slain ! Messenger Hsemon is dead. Cttor. Dead ! by what hand, his father's or his own ? Mets. Enraged and grieving for liis murdered love, He slew himself. Chorus O proijhet ! thy predictions Were bnt too true ! Messenger Since thus it be, 'tis fit We should consult ; our present state demands it, Chorus But see ! Eurydice, the wretched wife Of Creon, comes this way ; or chance hath brought her. Or Haemon's hapless fate hath reached her ear. Eurydice Scene II. Messenger, Chorus. EuB. O citizens ! as to Minerva's fane E'en now I went to pay my vows, the doors I burst, and heard imperfectly the sound Of most disastrous news which touched me near. Breathless I fell amidst the virgin throng ; And now I come to know the dreadful truth : Whate'er it be, I'll hear it now ; for, oh ! I am no stranger to calamity. Messenger Then mark, my mistress, I will tell thee all, Nor will I j)ass a circumstance unmentioned. Should I deceive thee with an idle tale 'Twere soon discovered. Truth is^lways best. Know then, I followed Creon to tiie 'iieldT*'"' Where, torn by dogs, the wretched carcase lay Of Polynices. First to Proserpine And angry Pluto, to appease their wrath. Our humble prayers addressing, there we laved In the pure stream the body ; then, with leaves Fresh gathered covering, burnt his poor remains, And on the neighbouring turf a tomb upraised. Then, towards the virgin's rocky cave advanced. When from the dreadful chamber a sad cry As from afar was heard, a servant ran To tell the king, and still as we approached The sound of sorrow from a voice unknown And undistinguished issued forth. Alas! Said Creon : " Am I then a faithful prophet? And do I tread a more unhappy path Than e'er I went before? It is my son — I know his voice ! But get ye to the door, My servants, close, look through the stony heap ; Mark if it be so. Is it Haemon's voice ? " Again he cried : "Or have the gods deceived me ?*" Thus spoke the king. We, to our mournful lord Down in the deepest hollow of the cave, By her own vestments hung. Close by her side The wretched youth, embracing in his arms Her lifeless corse, weeping his father's crime. His ravished bride, and horrid nuptial bed, Creon beheld, and loud reproaching cried : " What art thou doing] What's thy dreadful purpose? What means my son ? Come forth, my Ilsemon, come ! Thy father begs thee." With indignant eye The youth looked up, nor scornful deigned an answer, But silent drew his sword, and with fell rnge Struck at his father, who by flight escaped The blow ; then on himself bent all his wrath, Full in his side the weapon fixed ; but still, Whilst life remained, on the soft bosom hung Of the dear maid, and his lost spirit breathed O'er her pale cheek discoloured with his blood. Thus lay the wretched pair in death united, And celebrate their nuptials in the tomb — To future times a terrible example Of the sad woes which rashness ever brings. Messenger \fixit EURYDICE. Scene HI. Chorus. Chorus What can this mean? She's gone, without a word. Messenger 'Tis strange, and yet I trust she will not loud Proclaim her griefs to all, but — for I know She's ever prudent — with her virgin train In secret weep her murdered Hsemon's fate. ryS Chorus Clamour indeed were vain ; but such deyp silence Doth ever threaten horrid consequence. Messenger Within we soon shall know if aught she hide Of deadly purport in her angry soul ; For well thou sayst her silence is most dreadful. Chorus \Exit Messengek. But lo ! the king himself : and in his arms See his dead son, the monument accursed Of his sad fate, which, may we say unblamed, Sprang not from others' guilt, but from his own. Creon Scene IV. Messenger, Chorus. Creun enters, hearing the body of HiEMON. Creon Ah me ! What deadly woes from the bad mind Perpetual flow. Thus in one wretched house Have you beheld the slayer and the slain ! O fatal counsels ! O unhappy son ! Thus with thy youthful bride to sink in death ; Thou diest, my child, and I alone have killed thee ! Chorus O king ! thy justice comes too late. Creon It doth, 1 know it well, unhappy as I am ; For oh ! the god this heavy weight of woe Hath cast upon me, and his fiercest wrath Torments me now, changing my joyful state To keenest anguish. Oh ! the fruitless toils Of wretched mortals ! Messenger Scene V. Creon, Chorus. Messenger Thus oppressed, my lord, With bitterest misfortune, more aliliction Awaits thee still, which thou Avilt find within. Creon And can there be more woes? Is aught to come More horrible than this ? Messenger The queen is dead ; Her wounds yet fresh. Eager, alas ! to show A mother's love, she followed hfer lost child. Creon O death insatiate ! how dost thou afflict me ! What cruel news, thou messenger of ill, Hast thou brought now ? Chorus A wretch, already dead With grief, thy horrid tale once more hath slain. Creon Didst thou not say a fresh calamity Had fallen upon mel Didst thou not say my wife Was dead, alas ! for grief of Hsemon's fate? Messenger \Scene opens and discovers the body of Eurydice, Behold her there ! Creon O me ! another blow ! What now remains ? What can I suffer more. Thus bearing in these arms my breathless son ? My wife too dead ! O most unhappy mother ! And oh ! thou wretched child ! Messenger Close by the altar She drew the sword, and closed her eyes in death, Lamenting first her lost Megareus' fate And Hsemon's death, with imprecations dire Still poured on thee, the murderer of thy son. Creon I shudder at it? Will no friendly hand Destroy me quickly? For oh ! I am most wretched — I>eset with miseries ! Messenger She accused thee oft. And said the guilt of both their deaths was thine, Creon Alas ! I only am to blame. 'Twas I Who killed thee, Hsemon ; I confess my crime. Bear me, my servants, bear me far from hence, For I am — nothing. Chorus If in ills like these Aught can be well, thou hast determined right : When least we see our woes, we feel them least. Creon Quick let my last, my happiest hour appear ! Would it were come, the period of my woes ! Oh ! that I might not see another day ! CiioR. Time must determine that : the present hour Demands our rare ; the rest 1:>e left to heaven. Oreon. But I have wished and prayed for 't. Chorus Pray for nothing ; Tliere's no reversing the decrees of fate. Creon Take hence this useless load, this guilty wretch Who slew his child, who slew e'en thee, my wife ; I know not whither to betake me, where To turn my eyes, for all is dreadful round me, And fate hath weighed me down on every side. Chorus Wisdom alone is man's true happiness : We are not to dispute the will of heaven ; For ever are the boastings of the proud By the just gods repaid, and man at last Is taught to fear their anger, and be wise. T R A C H I N I ^. DRAiSrATIS PERSON^:. Hyllus Son of Ilercvles. Oeianira, Wife of Hercules. Lichas a Herald. Attenda>t on Deianira. Old Man. Chorus composed of Virgins Deianira SCENE.— ^e/ore the Palace of Ceyx in Trachis. ACT I. Scene I. Attendant.