Ismene, sister, mine own dear sister, knowest thou what ill there is, of all bequeathed by Oedipus, that Zeus fulfils not for us twain while we live? Nothing painful is there, nothing fraught with ruin, no shame, no dishonour, that I have not seen in thy woes and mine.

And now what new edict is this of which they tell, that our Captain hath just published to all Thebes? Knowest thou aught? Hast thou heard? Or is it hidden from thee that our friends are threatened with the doom of our foes?

No word of friends, Antigone, gladsome or painful, hath come to me, since we two sisters were bereft of brothers twain, killed in one day by a twofold blow; and since in this last night the Argive host hath fled, I know no more, whether my fortune be brighter, or more grievous.

I knew it well, and therefore sought to bring thee beyond the gates of the court, that thou mightest hear alone.

What is it? ’Tis plain that thou art brooding on some dark tidings.

What, hath not Creon destined our brothers, the one to honoured burial, the other to unburied shame? Eteocles, they say, with due observance of right and custom, he hath laid in the earth, for his honour among the dead below. But the hapless corpse of Polyneices— as rumour saith, it hath been published to the town that none shall entomb him or mourn, but leave unwept, unsepulchred, a welcome store for the birds, as they espy him, to feast on at will. Such, ’tis said, is the edict that the good Creon hath set forth for thee and for me,—yes, for me,—and is coming hither to proclaim it clearly to those who know it not; nor counts the matter light, but, whoso disobeys in aught, his doom is death by stoning before all the folk. Thou knowest it now; and thou wilt soon show whether thou art nobly bred, or the base daughter of.a noble line.

Poor sister,—and if things stand thus, what could I help to do or undo?

Consider if thou wilt share the toil and the deed.

In what venture? What can be thy meaning?

Wilt thou aid this hand to lift the dead?

Thou wouldst bury him,—when ’tis forbidden to Thebes?

I will do my part,—and thine, if thou wilt not,—to a brother. False to him will I never be found.

Ah, over-bold! when Creon hath forbidden ?

Nay, he hath no right to keep me from mine own.

Ah me! think, sister, how our father perished, amid hate and scorn, when sins bared by his own search had moved him to strike both eyes with self-blinding hand; then the mother wife, two names in one, with twisted noose did despite unto her life; and last, our two brothers in one day,—each shedding, hapless one, a kinsman’s blood,—wrought out with mutual hands their common doom. And now we in turn—we two left all alone—think how we shall perish, more miserably than all the rest, if, in defiance of the law, we brave a king’s decree or his powers. Nay, we must remember, first, that we were born women, as who should not strive with men; next, that we are ruled of the stronger, so that we must obey in these things, and in things yet sorer. I, therefore, asking the Spirits Infernal to pardon, seeing that force is put on me herein, will hearken to our rulers; for ’tis witless to be over busy.

I will not urge thee,—no, nor, if thou yet shouldst have the mind, wouldst thou be welcome as a worker with me. Nay, be what thou wilt; but I will bury him: well for me to die in doing that. I shall rest, a loved one with him whom I have loved, sinless in my crime; for I owe a longer allegiance to the dead than to the living: in that world I shall abide for ever. But "if thou wilt, be guilty of dishonouring laws which the gods have stablished in honour.

I do them no dishonour; but to defy the State, I have no strength for that.

Such be thy plea:—I, then, will go to heap the earth above the brother whom I love.

Alas, unhappy one! How I fear for thee!

Fear not for me: guide thine own fate aright.

At least, then, disclose this plan to none, but hide it closely,—and so, too, will I.

Oh, denounce it! Thou wilt be far more hateful for thy silence, if thou proclaim not these things to all.

Thou hast a hot heart for chilling deeds.

I know that I please where I am most bound to please.

Aye, if thou canst; but thou wouldst what thou canst not.

Why, then, when my strength fails, I shall have done.

A hopeless quest should not be made at all.

If thus thou speakest, thou wilt have hatred. from me, and will justly be subject to the lasting hatred of the dead. But leave me, and the folly that is mine alone, to suffer this dread thing; for I shall not suffer aught so dreadful as an ignoble death.

Go, then, if thou must; and of this be sure,— that, though thine errand is foolish, to thy dear ones thou art truly dear. Exit ANTIGONE on the spectators’ left. ISMENE retires into the palace by one of the two side-doors.

Beam of the sun, fairest light that ever dawned on Thebè of the seven gates, thou hast shone forth at last, eye of golden day, arisen above Dircé’s streams! The warrior of the white shield, who came from Argos in his panoply, hath been stirred by thee to headlong flight, in swifter career ; who set forth against our land by reason of the vexed claims of Polyneices; and, like shrill-screaming eagle, he flew over into our land, in snow-white pinion sheathed, with an arméd throng, and with plumage of helms.

He paused above our dwellings; he ravened around our sevenfold portals with spears athirst for blood; but he went hence, or ever his jaws were glutted with our gore, or the Fire-god’s pine-fed flame had seized our crown of towers. So fierce was the noise of battle raised behind him, a thing too hard for him to conquer, as he wrestled with his dragon foe.

For Zeus utterly abhors the boasts of a proud tongue; and when he beheld them coming on in a great stream, in the haughty pride of clanging gold, he smote with brandished fire one who was now hasting to shout victory at his goal upon our ramparts.

Swung down, he fell on the earth with a crash, torch in hand, he who so lately, in the frenzy of the mad onset, was raging against us with the blasts of his tempestuous hate. But those threats fared not as he hoped ; and to other foes the mighty War-god dispensed their several dooms, dealing havoc around, a mighty helper at our need.

For seven captains at seven gates, matched against seven, left the tribute of their panoplies to Zeus who tutns the battle; save those two of cruel fate, who, born of one sire and one mother, set against each other their twain conquering spears, and are sharers in a common death. But since Victory of glorious name hath come to us, with joy responsive to the joy of Thebè whose chariots are many, let us enjoy forgetfulness after the late wars, and visit all the temples of the gods with night-long dance and song; and may Bacchus be our leader, whose dancing shakes the land of Thebè. But lo, the king of the land comes yonder, Creon, son of Menoeceus, our new ruler by the new fortunes that the gods have given; what counsel is he pondering, that he hath proposed this special conference of elders, summoned by his general mandate? Enter CREON, from the central doors of the palace, in the garb of king ; with two attendants.

Sirs, the vessel of our State, after being tossed on wild waves, hath once more been safely steadied by the gods: and ye, out of all the folk, have been called apart by my summons, because I knew, first of all, how true and constant was your reverence for the royal power of Larus; how, again, when Oedipus was ruler of our land, and when he had perished, your steadfast loyalty still upheld their children. Since, then, his sons have fallen in one day by a twofold doom,—each smitten by the other, each stained with a brother's blood,—I now possess the throne and all its powers, by nearness of kinship to the dead.

Such is thy pleasure, Creon, son of Menoeceus, touching this city’s foe, and its friend; and thou hast power, I ween, to take what order thou wilt, both for the dead, and for all us who live.

See, then, that ye be guardians of the mandate.

Lay the burden of this task on some younger man.

Nay, watchers of the corpse have been found.

What, then, is this further charge that: thou wouldst give?

That ye side not with the breakers of these commands.

No man is so foolish that he is enamoured of death.

In sooth, that is the meed; yet lucre hath oft ruined men through their hopes. Enter GUARD.

liege, I will not say that I come breathless from speed, or that I have plied a nimble foot ; for often did my thoughts make me pause, and wheel round in my path, to return. My mind was holding large discourse with me; ‘Fool, why goest thou to thy certain doom ?’ ‘Wretch, tarrying again? And if Creon hears this from another, must not thou smart for it?’ So debating, I went on my way with lagging steps, and thus. a short road was made long. At last, however, it carried the day that I should come hither—to thee; and, though my tale be nought, yet will I tell it; for_I_come with C a good grip on one hope,—that I can suffer nothing but ate what is my fate.

And what is it that disquiets thee thus?

I wish to tell thee first about myself—I did not do the deed—I did not see the doer—it were not right that I should come to any harm.

Thou hast a shrewd eye for thy mark; well dost thou fence thyself round against the blame:— clearly thou hast some strange thing to tell.

Aye, truly; dread news makes one pause long.

Then tell it, wilt thou, and so get thee gone?

Well, this is it—The corpse—some one hath just given it burial, and gone away,—after sprinkling thirsty dust on the flesh, with such other rites as piety enjoins, .

What sayest thou? What living man hath dared this deed?

I know not; no stroke of pickaxe was seen there, no earth thrown up by mattock ; the ground was hard and dry, unbroken, without track of wheels; the doer was one who had left no trace. And when the first day-watchman showed it to us, sore wonder fell on all. The dead man was veiled from us; not shut within a tomb, but lightly strewn with dust, as by the hand of one who shunned a curse. And no sign met the eye as though any beast of prey or any dog had come nigh to him, or torn him. Then evil words flew fast and loud among us, guard accusing guard ; and it would e’en have come to blows at last, nor was there any to hinder. Every man was tye od? the culprit, and no one was convicted, but all disclaimed knowledge of the deed. And we were ready to take red-hot iron in our hands ;—to walk through fire ;—to make oath by the gods that we had not done the deed, —that we were not privy to the planning or the doing, At last, when all our searching was fruitless, one spake, who made us all bend our faces on the earth in fear; for we saw not how we could gainsay him, or escape mischance if we obeyed. His counsel was that this deed must be reported to thee, and not hidden. And this seemed best ; and the lot doomed my hapless self to win this prize. So here I stand,—as unwelcome as unwilling, well I wot; for no man delights in the bearer of bad news.

O king, my thoughts have long been whispering, can this deed, perchance, be e’en the work of gods?

Cease, ere thy words fill me utterly with wrath, lest thou be found at once an old man and foolish. For thou sayest what is not to be borne, in saying that the gods have care for this corpse. Was it for high reward of trusty service that they sought-to hide his nakedness, who came to burn their pillared\shrines and sacred treasures, to burn their land, and scatter its laws to the winds? Or dost thou behold the gods honouring the wicked? It cannot be. No! From the first there were ago certain in the town that muttered against me, chafing at this edict, wagging their heads in secret; and kept not their necks duly under the yoke, like men contented with my sway.

'Tis by them, well I know, that these have been beguiled and bribed to do this deed. Nothing so evil as money ever grew to be current among men. This lays cities low, this drives men from their homes, this trains and warps honest souls till they set themselves to works of shame; this still teaches folk to practise villanies, and to know every godless deed. But all the men who wrought this thing for hire have made it sure that, soon or late, they shall pay the price. Now, as Zeus still hath my reverence, know this— I tell it thee on my oath :—If ye find not the very author of this burial, and produce him before mine eyes, death alone shall not be enough for you, till first, hung up alive, ye have revealed this outrage,—that henceforth ye may thieve with better knowledge whence lucre should be won, and learn that it is not well to love gain from every source. For thou wilt find that ill-gotten pelf brings more men to ruin than to weal.

May I speak? Or shall I just turn and go?

Knowest thou not that even now thy voice offends?

Is thy smart in the ears, or in the soul?

And why wouldst thou define the seat of my pain?

The doer vexcs thy mind, but I, thine ears,

Ah, thou art a born babbler, ’tis well scen.

May be, but never the doer of this deed.

Yea,and more,—the seller of thy life for silver.

Alas! ’Tis sad, truly, that he who judges should misjudge.

Let thy fancy play with ‘judgment’.asit will; but, if ye show me not the doers of these things, ye shall avow that dastardly gains work sorrows. [Z£xtz.

Well, may he be found! so ’twere best. But, be he caught or be he not—fortune must settle that— truly thou wilt not see me here again. Saved, even now, beyond hope and thought, I owe the gods great thanks, Exit

Wonders are many, and none is more wonderful than man; the power that crosses the white sea, driven by the stormy south-wind, making a path under surges that threaten to engulf him; and Earth, the eldest of the gods, the immortal, the unwearied, doth he wear, turning the soil with the offspring of horses, as the ploughs go to and fro from year to year. And the light-hearted race of birds, and the tribes of savage beasts, and the sea-brood of the deep, he snares in the meshes of his woven toils, he leads captive, man excellent in wit. And he masters by his arts the beast whose lair is in the wilds, who roams the hills; he tames the horse of shaggy mane, he puts the yoke upon its neck, he tames the tireless mountain bull, And speech, and wind-swift thought, and all the moods that mould a state, hath he taught himself; and how to flee the arrows of the frost, when ’tis hard lodging under the clear sky, and the arrows of the rushing rain ; yea, he hath resource for all; without resource he meets nothing that must come: only against Death shall he call for aid in vain; but from baffling maladies he hath devised escapes. Cunning beyond fancy’s dream is the fertile skill which brings him, now to evil, now to good. When he honours the laws of the land, and that justice which he hath sworn by the gods to uphold, proudly stands his city: no city hath he who, for his rashness, dwells with sin. Never may he share my hearth, never think my thoughts, who doth these things! Enter the Guard on the spectators’ left, leading in ANTIGONE. What portent from the gods is this?—my soul is amazed. I know her—how can I deny that yon maiden is Antigone? O hapless, and child of hapless sire,—of Oedipus ! What means this? Thou brought a prisoner?—thou, disloyal to the king’s laws, and taken in folly?

Here she is, the doer of the deed :—we caught this girl burying him :—but where is Creon?

Lo, he comes forth again from the house, at our need.

What is it? What hath chanced, that makes my coming timely?

O king, against nothing should men pledge their word ; for the after-thought belies the first intent. I could have vowed that I should not soon be here again,—scared by thy threats, with which I had just been lashed: but,—since the joy that surprises and transcends our hopes is like in fulness to no other pleasure—I have come, though ’tis in breach of my sworn oath, bringing this maid; who was taken showing grace to the dead. This time there was no casting of lots; no, this luck hath fallen to me, and to none else. And now, sire, take her thyself, question her, examine her, as thou wilt; but I have a right to free and final quittance of this trouble.

And thy prisoner here—how and whence hast thou taken her?

She was burying the man; thou knowest all.

Dost thou mean what thou sayest? Dost thou speak aright?

I saw her burying the corpse that thou hadst forbidden to bury, Is that plain and clear?

And how was she seen? how taken in the act ?

It befell on this wise. When we had come to the place,—with those dread menaces of thine upon us,—we swept away all the dust that covered the corpse, and bared the dank body well; and then sat us down on the brow of the hill, to windward, heedful that the smell from him should not strike us; every man was wide awake, and kept his neighbour alert with torrents of threats, if any one should be careless of this task, So went it, until the sun’s bright orb stood in mid heaven, and the heat began to burn: and then suddenly a whirlwind lifted from the earth a storm of dust, a trouble in the sky, and filled the plain, marring all the leafage of its woods; and the wide air was choked therewith: we closed our eyes, and bore the plague from the gods. And when, after a long while, this storm had passed, the maid was seen; and she cried aloud with the sharp cry of a bird in its bitterness,—even as when, within the empty nest, it sees the bed stripped of its nestlings. So she also, when she saw the corpse bare, lifted up a voice of wailing, and called down curses on the doers of that deed. And straightway she brought thirsty dust in her hands; and from a shapely ewer of bronze, held high, with thrice-poured drink-offering she crowned the dead. We rushed forward when we saw it, and at once closed upon our quarry, who was in no wise dismayed. Then we taxed her with her past and present doings; and she stood not on denial of aught,—at once to my joy and to my pain. To have escaped from ills one’s self is a great joy; but ‘tis painful to bring friends to ill. Howbeit, all such things are of less account to me than mine own safety.

Thou—thou whose face is bent to earth—dost thou avow, or disavow, this deed ?

I avow it; I make no denial.

to Guard. Thou canst betake thee whither thou wilt, free and clear of a grave charge. Exit Guard. To ANTIGONE. Now, tell me thou—not in many words, but briefly—knewest thou that an edict had forbidden this ?

I knew it: could I help it? It was public.

And thou didst indeed dare to transgress that law?

Yes; for it was not Zeus that had published me that edict; not such are the laws set among men by the Justice who dwells with the gods below; nor deemed I that thy decrees were of such force, that a mortal could override the unwritten and unfailing statutes of heaven. For their life is not of to-day or yesterday, but from all time, and no man knows when they were first put forth. Not through dread of any human pride could I answer to the gods for breaking these. Die I must,— I knew that well (how should I not?)—even without thy edicts. But if Iam to die before my time, I count that a gain: for when any one lives, as I do, compassed about with evils, can such an one find aught but gain in death? OE A A EB om a DON So for me to meet this doom is trifling grief; but if I had suffered my mother’s son to lie in death an unburied corpse, that would have grieved me; for this, I am not grieved. And if my present deeds are foolish in thy sight, it may be that a foolish judge arraigns my folly.

The maid shows herself passionate child of passionate sire, and knows not how to bend before troubles.

Yet I would have thee know that_o’er-stubborn: spirits are led; ’tis the stiffest iron, baked to hardness in the fire, that thou shalt oftenest see snapped and shivered; and I have known horses that show temper brought to order by a little curb; there is no room for pride, when thou art thy neighbour’s slave.—This girl was already versed in insolence when she transgressed the laws that had been set forth; and, that done, lo, a second insult,—to vaunt of this, and exult in her deed. Now verily I am no man, she is the man, if this victory shall rest with her, and bring no penalty. No! be she sister’s child, or nearer to me in blood ea any that at worships Zeus at the altar of our house,—she and her kinsfolk shall not avoid a doom most dire; for indeed I charge that other with a like share in the plotting of this burial. And summon her—for I saw her e’en now within,— raving, and not mistress of her wits. So oft, before the deed, the mind stands self-convicted in its treason, when folks are plotting mischief in the dark. But verily this, too, is_hateful—when one who hath been caught in wickedness then seeks to make the crime a glory.

Wouldst thou do more than take and slay me?

No more, indeed; having that, I have all.

Why then dost thou delay? In thy discourse there is nought that pleases me,—never may there be and so my words must needs be unpleasing to thee. And yet, for glory—whence could I have won a nobler, than by giving burial to mine own brother? All here would own that they thought it well, were not their lips sealed by fear. But royalty, blest in so much besides, hath the power to do and say what it will.

Thou differest from all these Thebans in that view.

These also share it; but they curb their tongues for thee. diy Cen

And art thou not ashamed to act apart from them?

No; there is nothing shameful in piety to a brother.

Was it not a brother, too, that died in the opposite cause?

Brother by the same mother and the same sire.

Why, then, dost thou render a grace that is impious in his sight?

The dead man will not say that he so deems it.

Yea, if thou makest him but equal in honour with the wicked.

It was his brother, not his slave, that perished.

Wasting this land; while 4e fell as its champion.

Nevertheless, Hades desires these rites.

But the good desires not a like portion with the evil.

Who knows but this seems blameless in the world below?

A foe is never a friend—not even in death.

‘Tis not my nature to join in hating, but in loving.

Pass, then, to the world of the dead, and, if thou must needs love, love them. While I live, no woman shall rule me, Enter ISMENE from the house, led in by two attendants.

Lo, yonder Ismene comes forth, shedding such tears as fond sisters weep; a cloud upon her brow casts its shadow over her darkly-flushing face, and breaks in rain on her fair cheek.

And thou, who, lurking like a viper in my house, wast secretly draining my life-blood, while I knew not that I was nurturing two pests, to rise against my throne—come, tell me now, wilt thou also confess thy part in this burial, or wilt thou forswear all knowledge of it?

I have done the deed,—if she allows my claim, —and share the burden of the charge.

Nay, justice will not suffer thee to do that: thou didst not consent to the deed, nor did I give thee part in it.

But, now that ills beset thee, I am not ashamed to sail the sea of trouble at thy side.

Whose was the deed, Hades and the dead are witnesses: a friend in words is not the friend that I love.

Nay, sister, reject me not, but let me die with thee, and_duly honour the dead.

Share not thou my death, nor claim deeds to which thou hast not put thy hand: my death will suffice.

And what life is dear to me, bereft of thee?

Ask Creon; all thy care is for him.

Why vex me thus, when it avails thee nought?

Indeed, if I mock, ’tis with pain that I mock thee.

Tell me,—how can I serve thee, even now?

Save thyself: I grudge not thy escape.

Ah, woe is me! And shall I have no share in thy fate?

Thy choice was to live; mine, to die. #4 oe of

At least thy choice was not made without my protest.

Qne_world approved thy wisdom; another, mine.

Howbeit, the offence is the same for both of us.

Be of good cheer; thou livest; but my life hath long been given to death, that so I might serve the dead.

Lo, one of these maidens hath newly shown herself foolish, as the other hath been since her life began.

Yea, O king, such reason as nature may have given abides not with the unfortunate, but goes astray.

Thine did, when thou chosest vile deeds with the vile.

What life could I endure, without ther presenc ce?

Nay, speak not of her 'presence'; she lives no more.

But wilt thou slay the hetrothed of thine own Son?

Nay, there are other fields for him to plough. ux¢!

But there can never be such love as bound him to her.

I like not an evil wife for my son.

Haemon, beloved! How thy father wrongs thee!

Enough, enough of thee and of thy marriage!

Wilt thou indeed rob thy son of this maiden?

’Tis Death that shall stay these bridals for me.

’Tis determined, it seems, that she shall die.

Determined, yes, for thee and for me— to the two attendants. No more delay—servants, take them within! Henceforth they must be women, and not range at large; for verily even the bold seek to fly, when they see Death now closing on their life. Exeunt attendants, guarding ANTIGONE and ISMENE.—CREON remains.

Blest are they whose days have not tasted of evil. For when a house hath once been shaken from heaven, there the curse fails nevermore, passing from life to life of the race; even as, when the surge is driven over the darkness of the deep by the fierce breath of Thracian sea-winds, it rolls up the black sand from the depths, and there is a sullen roar from wind-vexed headlands that front the blows of the storm.

I see that from olden time the sorrows in the house of the Labdacidae are heaped upon the sorrows of the dead; and generation is not freed by generation, but some god strikes them down, and the race hath no deliverance.

For now that hope of which the light had been spread above the last root of the house of Oedipus— that hope, in turn, is brought low—by the blood-stained dust due to the gods infernal, and by folly in speech, and frenzy at the heart. Thy power, O Zeus, what human trespass can limit? That power which neither Sleep, the all-ensnaring, nor the untiring months of the gods can master; but thou, a ruler to whom time brings not old age, dwellest in the dazzling splendour of Olympus.

And through the future, near and far, as through the past, shall this law hold good: Nothing that is vast enters into the life of mortals without a curse. For that hope whose wanderings are so wide is to many men a comfort, but to many a false lure of giddy desires; and the disappointment comes on one who knoweth nought till he burn his foot against the hot fire. For with wisdom hath some one given forth the famous saying, that evil seems good, soon or late, to him whose mind the god draws to mischief; and but for the briefest space doth he fare free of woe. But lo, Haemon, the last of thy sons;—comes he grieving for the doom of his promised bride, Antigone, and bitter for the baffled hope of his marriage? Enter HAEMON.

We shall know soon, better than seers could tell us—My son, hearing the fixed doom of thy betrothed, art thou come in rage against thy father? Or have I thy good will, act how I may?

Father, Iam thine; and thou, in thy wisdom, tracest for me—rules which I shall follow. No marriage shall be deemed by me a-greater gain than thy good guidance.

Yea, this, my son, should be thy heart’s fixed law,—in_all things to obey thy father’s will, 'Tis for this that men pray to see dutiful children grow up around them in their homes,—that such may requite their father’s foe with evil, and honour, as their father doth, his friend. But he who begets unprofitable children—what shall we say that he hath sown, but — troubles for himself, and much triumph for his foes? Then do not thou, my son, at pleasure’s beck, dethrone thy reason for a woman’s sake; knowing that this is a joy that soon grows cold in clasping arms,—an evil woman to share thy bed and thy home. For what wound could strike deeper than a false friend? Nay, with loathing, and as if she were thine enemy, let this girl go to find a husband in the house of Hades. For since I have taken her, alone of all the city, in open disobedience, I will not make myself a liar to my people—I will slay her. So let her appeal as she will to the majesty of kindred blood. If I am to nurture mine own kindred in naughtiness, needs must I bear with it in aliens. He who does his duty in his own household will be found righteous in the State also. But if any one transgresses, and does violence to the laws, or thinks to dictate to his rulers, such an one can win no praise from me. No, whomsoever the city may appoint, that man must be obeyed, in little things and great, in just things and unjust; and I should feel sure that one who thus obeys would be a good ruler no less than a good subject, and in the storm of spears would stand his ground where he was set, loyal and dauntless at his comrade’s side.

But disobedience is the worst of evils. This it is that ruins cities; this makes homes desolate; by this, the ranks of allies are broken into headlong rout; but, of the lives whose course is fair, the greater part owes safety to obedience. Therefore we must support the cause of order, and in no wise suffer a woman to worst us. Better to fall from power, if must, by a man’s hand; then we should not be called weaker than a woman.

To us, unless our years have stolen our wit, thou seemest to say wisely what thou sayest.

Father, the gods implant reason in men, the highest of all things that we call our own. Not mine the skill—far from me be the quest!—to.say wherein thou speakest not aright; and yet another man, too, might have some useful thought. At least, it is my natural office to watch, on thy behalf, all that men say, or do, or find to blame. For the dread of thy frown forbids the citizen to speak such words as would offend thine ear; but I can hear these murmurs in the dark, these moanings of the city for this maiden; ‘no woman,’ they say, ‘ever merited her doom less—none ever was to die so shamelully Tor deedsclorious as hers; who, ds_so glorious as hers; who, when her own brother had fallen in bloody strife, would not leave him unburied, to be devoured by carrion dogs, or by any bird:—deserves not she the meed of golden honour ?”

Sire, ’tis meet that thou shouldest profit by his words, if he speaks aught in season, and thou, Haemon, by thy father’s ; for on both parts there hath been wise speech.

Men of my age—are we indeed to be-schooled, then, by-men-of his ?

In nothing that is not right; but if I am young, thou shouldest look to my merits, not to my years.

Is it a merit to honour the unruly?

I could wish no one to show respect for evildoers. Tre Furl.

Then is not she tainted with that malady? “> Ji

Our Theban folk, with one voice, denies it~

Shall Thebes prescribe to me how I must rule?

See, there thou hast spoken like a youth indeed.

Am Ito rule this land by other judgment than mine own?

That is no city, which belongs to one man.

Is not the city held to be the ruler’s?

Thou wouldst make a good monarch of a desert.

This boy, it seems, is the woman’s champion.

If thou art a woman; indeed, my care is for thee.

Shameless, at open feud with thy father !

Nay, I see thee offending against justice.

Do I offend, when I respect mine own prerogatives ?

Thou dost not respect them, when thou tramplest on the gods’ honours.

O dastard nature, yielding place to womanit

Thou wilt never find me yield to baseness.

All thy words, at least, plead for that girl,

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

Thou canst never marry her, on this side the grave.

Then she must die, and in death destroy another,

How! doth thy boldness run to open threats?

What threat is it, to combat vain resolyes?

Thou shalt rue thy witless teaching of wisdom.

Wert thou not my father, I would have called thee unwise.

Thou woman’s slave, use not wheedling speech with me. Hare, Thou wouldest speak, and then hear no reply?

Sayest thou so? Now, by the heaven above us—be sure of it—thou shalt smart for taunting me in this opprobrious strain. Bring forth that hated thing, that she may die forthwith in his presence—before his eyes—at her bridegroom’s side!

No, not at my side—never think it—shall she perish; nor shalt thou ever set eyes more upon my face :—rave, then, with such friends as can endure thee. Exit HAEMON.

The man is gone, O king, in angry haste; a youthful man, when stung, is fierce.

Let him do, or dream, more than man—good speed to him!—But he shall not save these two girls from their doom.

Dost thou indeed purpose to slay both?

Not her whose hands are pure: thou sayest well.

And by what doom mean’st thou to slay the other?

I will take her where the path is loneliest, and hide her, living, in a rocky vault, with so much food set forth as piety prescribes, that the city may avoid a public stain. And there, praying to Hades, the only god whom she worships, perchance she will obtain release from death; or else will learn, at last, though late, that it is lost labour to revere the dead. [zit CREON.

Love, unconquered in the fight, Love, who sr. ‘ makest havoc of wealth, who keepest thy vigil on the soft cheek of a maiden; thou roamest over the sea, and among the homes of dwellers in the wilds; no immortal can escape thee, nor any among men whose life is for a day; and he to whom thou hast come is mad. ant. The just themselves have their minds warped by thee to wrong, for their ruin: ’tis thou that hast stirred up this prese if i ;~victorious is the lovekindling light from the eyes of the fair bride; it is a power enthroned in sway beside the eternal laws; for there the goddess Aphrodite is working her unconquerable will. But now I also am carried beyond the bounds of loyalty, and can no more keep back the streaming tears, when I see Antigone thus passing to the bridal chamber where all are laid to rest.

See me, citizens of my fatherland, setting forth on my last way, looking my last on the sunlight that is for me no more; no, Hades who gives sleep to all leads me living to Acheron’s shore; who have had no portion in the chant that brings the bride, nor hath any song been mine for the crowning of bridals; whom the lord of the Dark Lake shall wed.