Antigone Ismene My sister, loved Ismene, of the ills Which sprung from Edipus conceives thy thought One by the hand of Jove not brought on us His sole-surviving children? There is nought That sinks the soul with anguish, deep distress, Shame, and disgrace, but in thy ills and mine I see it all. E'en now what new decree Is rumour'd by the Chief as late proclaim'd Through all the city? Know'st thou? Hast thou heard? Or art thou unacquainted with the ills Which from our foes advance against our friends? To me no tidings of our friends are come, Pleasing or mournful, since the fatal hour At once deprived us of our brothers, slain Each by the other's hand; and this last night The slaughtering sword hath quell'd the Argive host; Further than this I know not, nor have heard Aught of good fortune or affliction more. Antigone I know it well, and call'd thee forth before The palace gates, that thou may'st hear alone. What is it? Dark and troubled seem thy thoughts. Know then that of our brothers Creon deigns One with a tomb to grace, and casts one forth Unhonour'd. With all just and solemn rites Eteocles, they say, beneath the earth He places, honour'd by the dead below. But his harsh edict is proclaim'd, that none Entomb, that none bewail the wretched corse Of Polynices, doom'd by him to lie Unwept, unburied, with his flesh to gorge The ravening birds, whose keen eye marks their prey. This the good Creon hath, they say, to thee And me (for I must name myself) enjoin'd; And hither comes his mandate to proclaim To those who know it not; no trivial charge, Nor to be slighted; for whoe'er performs. Aught of these offices, is doom'd to die. Such is our state; which calls on thee to show Thy high-born spirit, or degenerate mind. What, wretched sister, what can I avail, Opposing, or obeying his command? Wilt thou assist me? Wilt thou share my toils? Resolve. What deed of danger to attempt ? Ismene What thy intent? Antigone Wilt thou with thine assist My hand, and bear this wretched corse away? Wou'dst thou inter him, though the state forbids ? Mine and thy brother, e'en though thou refuse Thy social aid, I never will betray. Wilt thou, too daring, Creon's mandate scorn? He has no right to hold me from my friends. Ismene Yet, O my sister, to remembrance call Our father's fate; how odious, how defamed He perish'd, when confounded with the sense Of his offences, in his rage he rent With his own hands his bleeding orbs of sight. His mother then and wife, to ills on ills A double title, in the wreathed noose Died self-destroy'd. Our brothers now, both slain Each by the other's spear, unhappy youths, Have in one day one common fate achieved We now remain sole relics of our house; Think then how we shall perish by a fate More wretched still, if we by force infringe The sovereign pow'r and edict of our lords. Consider too that we are women, weak By nature, and unable to contend. With men; thus subject to a stronger pow'r We must hear this, and what may grieve us more. I then (of those beneath the earth revered Imploring pardon, since by force constrain'd) Will yield obedience to our potent lords. Attempts beyond our strength no prudence show.... I would not urge thee; nor, were now thy mind Prompt to the deed, consent that thou shou'dst act With me: be such as is thy will to be. I will inter him; and performing this Death will be glorious to me; I shall lie With my dear brother, to my brother dear, These pious rites discharged; for to the dead Longer a grace is pleasing than to those Who live; since there for ever I shall lie. Do thou, if such thy pleasure, lightly deem Of sacred things, the honours of the gods. I hold them high in honour; but to act By force against the state were rash and wild. Make that thy fair pretence; but I will go, And for my dearest brother raise a tomb. Unhappy sister, how I fear for thee ! Fear not for me; be thy own life thy care. Yet to none other thy intent disclose : Conceal it: of my silence be assured. No, speak it loud: more hateful wilt thou be If silent; be it then proclaim'd to all. Thou hast a warm heart in a dangerous act. Pleasing, I know, this act to those whom most Behoves it me to please. Couldst thou effect Thy purpose; but the deed exceeds thy pow'r. When my pow'r fails, I from th' attempt will cease. Attempt not things which cannot be achieved. Thou wilt be hated e'en by me, if thus Thou speak, and justly by the dead be held In hatred. Leave me then, and my design Thus rash, to put this danger to the proof. To me no sufferings have that hideous form Which can affright me from a glorious death. Go then, since thus resolved; but know th' attempt Shows frenzy, though strong friendship to thy friends. Chorus STRO. 1. Thou Sun, whose orient ray On rampired Thebes ne'er rose so bright, At length hast thou display'd thy light, Eye of the golden day, Hasting o'er Dirce's sacred streams To roll sublime thy glorious beams! The Argive first, who dared to wield With hostile rage his silver shield, (His thick-embattled martial train Defeated on th' ensanguin'd plain) Thou madest to turn his sharp-rein'd steed, And urge his flight with headlong speed. He, in the cause of Polynices arm'd, Our sons with doubtful war alarm'd; Soar'd like an Eagle o'er the plains below, And cover'd with his wings of snow Shrill-screaming hurtled o'er the realm, With many a glittering lance, and many a crested helm. Impatient of delay High o'er our bulwarks on a mound, With purple spears encircled round, He ravin'd for his prey. At our seven gates his warlike pow'rs In deep array assail'd our tow'rs; But his pride sunk, to flight constrain'd Ere with our blood his beak was stain'd; Ere to our rampires' height aspire The dark-wreath'd smoke and wasting fire; Such roar of war, such rout, such dread The dragon race around him spread. From our high tow'rs we view the Argive host,. Their white shields glittering to the sun.—Pheniss. 1242. For Jove indignant hears the vaunts of pride, And checks its frenzy's swelling tide; He sees them in th' impetuous torrent roll'd, And glorying in the clash of gold : He hurls his flames; the Boaster falls, The shouts of conquest now loud raising on our walls. As high the fire he bore Jove's lightening dash'd him to the ground; The corse and clashing arms rebound; The warrior is no more, Who rushing with resistless force, Impetuous, frentic in his course, Breath'd but one little moment past A sweeping whirlwind's horrid blast. Undaunted and with matchless might The sons of Thebes maintain'd the fight, And Mars triumphant on his car Directed all the storm of war. At the seven gates seven Argive warriors raged, But, Chief with daring Chief engaged, Left to Tropæan Jove their glittering spoils. Not such th' unhappy Brothers' toils; With ruthless spears and ruthless hate They rush'd victorious both, both shared one common fate. The queen of glorious name, To grace her Thebes, in gorgeous state Her high cars rolling through each gate, Resplendent Conquest came. Let war, and arms, and hostile rage No more your anxious thoughts engage; To all the temples now advance, Devote the night to festive dance; The allusion to a battle between the dragon and the eagle has here a singular propriety on account of the dragon race of Thebes. Creon ANTIS. 1. STRO. 2. ANTIS. 2. Devote the night to festive dance; To every god at every shrine, To Bacchus chief, pay rites divine 1. Let Bacchus lead the frolic train, And swell through Thebes the joyful strain. But see the royal Creon, whose new sway The sons of Thebes must now obey, The gods assigning him this glorious fate, To council comes in awful state; And here, by heralds warn'd, we stand, The sages of the realm, to hear his high command. Since now, ye men of Thebes, the gods, who shook With many a surging wave this sinking state Again have raised it from the storm secure, You by my heralds to attend me here Selected I have summon'd; for I know How highly you revered the throne and pow'r Of Laius; and again when Edipus Was king; and, after his disastrous fate, I saw how firm, how loyal to his sons Your zeal remain'd; but now, since they are fallen, Each by the other's hand, in the same day, By mutual wounds and mutual guilt, the crown And regal pow'r by right devolve on me! As nearest to the slain by blood allied. But who can penetrate man's secret thought, The quality and temper of his soul, Till by high office put to frequent proof, And execution of the laws? To me The Sovereign of a state, who weak of soul Adheres not to the sagest counsels firm, But suffers fear to close his lips, appears Most base and abject; such I deem him now, And always deem'd: and him, who dearer holds A private friendship than the secret ties Which bind him to his country, I esteem A weak slight man. But I (all-seeing Jove, Be thou my witness!) ne'er will close my lips In silence, to my people if I see A threatening danger, or approaching ill: And never will I hold that man my friend, Who to my country bears an hostile mind; Well knowing that on her we all depend For safety: whilst that bark securely ploughs A tranquil sea, we, as we sail, make friends. I by such rules will raise the Theban state To higher glory; and allied to these My edict through the city is proclaim'd Touching the sons of Edipus: the youth, Who fighting for his country greatly died, In arms illustrious, honour'd in the tomb I bade them lay, with all the hallow'd rites Paid to the noblest of the dead below. But Polynices, who from exile came Back to his country and his country's gods, Eager to gorge himself with kindred blood, And lead these hence as slaves, it is proclaim'd That none with solemn obsequies entomb, That none lament; unburied let him lie, And let his mangled carcase be devour'd By dogs and birds of prey. Such is my will. For never to the base will I allow The honours to the virtuous only due: But he, who loves my country, shall by me Alike be honour'd, let him live or die. Chorus CREON, CHORUS. If towards the foe and towards the friend of Thebes Son of Menæceus, such thy royal will, To give each law its force, both on the dead And us, whoe'er are living here, is thine. See that my edict be obey'd. That charge Give to more vigorous youth. Creon Guards are assign'd. Chorus To watch the dead What more wou'dst thou command? Creon Not to show grace to those who disobey. Chorus None is so mad to be in love with death. Creon And death shall be his meed: but oft rewards With treacherous hope bold men to ruin lead. Messenger CREON, MESSENGER, CHORUS. I will not say, O king, that I am come With hasten'd step, and breathless through my speed; For oft I paused, deep-musing, on my way, And oft wheel'd round with purpose to return. My soul with many a forceful argument Thus reason'd with me, "Why in evil hour "Goest thou where punishment awaits thee?---Wretch, "Wilt thou stay lingering here? Should Creon know " This from some other, how wilt thou escape "His vengeance?" ---Musing thus with anxious thought, And a slow pace, I made a short way long. At length it was decided I should come. E'en though I tell thee nothing, I will speak; For I am come confiding in the hope Nothing awaits me more than is decreed. Creon Why is thy soul distracted with these fears? Messenger First of myself I wish to speak. This deed Creon I did not, nor who did it can I say; Unjustly then on me would vengeance fall. With wary heed thou dost entrench thee round; Some recent deed of guilt thou wou'dst relate. Messenger Danger occasions caution and delay. Creon Speak then at length, and hence in safety go. Now I will tell thee. Some one lately came, Buried the dead, and went away; the corse With the dry dust he lightly cover'd o'er, And duly all the hallow'd rites perform'd. What say'st thou? Who the man that dared this deed Messenger I know not: neither stroke of axe was there, Nor with a spade the mold cast up; the ground Was firm, the soil unbroken, nor impress'd With track of wheels; but he, who did the deed, Left not a mark behind. When the first watch Of morning show'd us this, in wild amaze We stood aghast; for, though no tomb was raised, The body disappear'd; but the light dust Thrown o'er it show'd the hasty work of one Who fear'd profanely to neglect the dead; For not the trace of savage beast, or dog, Who gorged with prey had cover'd it, was seen. Harsh words with mutual clamour now rose high, Guard charging guard; we almost came to blows, With none to mediate peace; for each to each Seem'd to have done the deed, yet proof appear'd 'Gainst none: "I know not" was the voice of all. The mass of burning iron in our hands We all were prompt to take, to pass through fire, To call the gods to witness with firm oath We did it not, we knew not who design'd, Or who perform'd the deed. Inquiry now Was found of no avail, when one proposed What made us all bend to the earth our heads Through fear, (and nought against it could we speak, Nor knew we how to guide our conduct right) That this bold deed to thee should be disclosed, And not conceal'd. This purpose was approved.; And me, unhappy me, the lot calls forth To earn this meed. To me no pleasure this; No pleasure, well I know, to you I bring. Unwelcome he, who evil tidings bears. Chorus Long hath my mind, O king, been prone to think That by the impulse of the gods this deed......... Forbear, my anger ere thou raise, and show Thy age unwise; it is not to be borne, Creon This vain surmise. What, think'st thou that the gods O'er such a wretch their guardian care extend, And grace his body with a tomb, as one That well deserved, who came to set on fire Their pillar'd temples, and rich-gifted shrines, To waste their favour'd land, and crush its laws? Seest thou the gods grant honours to the vile ? It is not so. There are among us some Who brook this ill, and murmuring shake their heads, With due allegiance to my just command Disdaining to submit their crested pride : By these corrupted, and for base rewards, Some hirelings, well I know, have done this deed. For never sprung device that teem'd, like gold, With ills to mortals; cities it lays waste; Impels men from their country far to roam, Corrupts the honest mind, its virtuous thought Changing to deeds of baseness; the ill arts Of treacherous falshood it has taught, and train'd To the dark science of all impious works. But they, who for reward perform'd these things, Have earn'd in time just vengeance for their meed. For, as I reverence heav'n's almighty king, Be thou assured (I speak it with an oath) Find you the man whose hand prepared this tomb, Bring him before me, or not death alone Shall for your fault suffice, but you shall hang Alive, this heinous act till you disclose; That, knowing whence your booty may be borne, You may hereafter plunder; and be taught That not from all things gain may be derived. Watchman Of those, who grasp at unjust lucre, more Creon In ruin sink, than triumph in success. Messenger Wilt thou permit me to reply, or thus Must I return? Dost thou not know e'en now How much thy words offend ? Hurt they thy ears, Or do they wound thy mind? Creon What, wou'dst thou scan The regions of my pain? Messenger Thy mind he wounds Creon Who did the deed, my words offend thy ears. What a quaint prater this! Messenger Be thou assured I never did this daring deed. Creon For gold Thou didst it; bartering thy vile life away. Messenger How cruel is suspicion when unjust! Creon Now descant on suspicion; but take heed, Show me who did this act, or you shall say That punishment on impious gain attends. Messenger I wish he might be found: but be he seized Or not, (be that as fortune shall assign) Me here return'd thou shalt not see again; For now beyond my hopes, beyond my thoughts Preserved I bow me thankful to the gods. Chorus [exit. STRO. 1. ANTIS. 1. STRO. 2. Where'er we turn our curious eyes, Wonders through all the works of nature rise; But Man the chief. The foaming deep, With all his winds though winter raves, And round him swell the roaring waves, Of danger reckless he dares sweep, The sacred and eternal earth his toil From year to year unweared rends, The proud steed to his purpose bends, And furrows with his rolling plough the soil. His fine entangling arts ensnare The feather'd tribes that lightly wing the air. Each savage which the forest knows, And all the finny race that glide Sportive beneath the azure tide, His line-enwoven nets enclose. He knows to tame the herds that wander wild; The stiff-maned horse obeys his hand, Bends his strong neck to his command, And the reluctant mountain bull grows mild. The modulated voice he taught, And train'd the mind to harbour virtuous thought He gave to life a polish'd form, When first he bade the city rise A shelter from night's freezing skies, And the sharp arrows of the storm. O'er all victorious mounts his active mind : E'en for disease and racking pain Some healing balm his arts obtain, But from the darts of death no refuge find. Unbounded soars his active thought, With high device and quick invention fraught: And now to ill it downward leads; Generous in virtue now delights, And prompt to guard its country's rights Glory d'er all the empire spreads; To baseness when its wild design descends, Destruction on the state it draws. Watchman N'er be the man, who spurns the laws, Placed at my hearth, or rank'd among my friends! Chorus ANTIS. 2. I stand astonish'd at this sight: too well I know her, nor this virgin can deny To be Antigone. Unhappy child Of an unhappy father! What means this? Thee do they lead seized in this mad attempt, Found disobedient to the king's command? Messenger MESSENGER, ANTIGONE, CHORUS. This, be assured, is she that did the deed : We seized her as the body she interr'd. But where is Creon? Creon Hither he returns. Messenger CREON, MESSENGER, ANTIGONE, CHORUS. What hath befall'n? Hath justice reach'd th' offence? Never should man, O king, on oath protest Against a deed; some unseen cause may rise, And show his former resolution built On false foundations. By thy threats appall'd I rashly said I never would return; Yet with a joy beyond, above all hope, Creon Above all other pleasure I am come, Though strong against me stands my oath, and lead This virgin, whom I found with her own hands The dead interring. Now no lot was cast, Not shared by others. Take her then, O king, The unexpected meed is all my own, Judge her, convict her: guiltless I am proved, And rightly from thy threaten'd vengeance free. Thou bring'st this virgin, for what cause? where found ? Messenger Her hands interr'd the dead. Thou hast the whole, Creon Hast thou clear proof? From knowledge dost thou speak ? Messenger I saw her burying him to whom those rites Creon Thy charge forbade. Speak I now plain and clear ? How was she seen? how was she found? How seized ? Messenger I will inform thee of each circumstance. Under thy dreadful menace to the place Soon as we came, we swept the dust away, The dead which cover'd o'er, and laying bare The putrid body, on the higher ground In the free wind sate down, th' infectious smell Avoiding: man urged man, with keen reproach Utter'd 'gainst him who from the task should shrink. The hours thus pass'd till in its mid-day height Stood the sun's radiant orb; the heat was fierce; When sudden from the ground a fiery wind Rose in tempestuous whirls, the troubled sky Its wild rage rent, swept o'er the plain, and smote The leafy branches of each bending tree; Now the wide air was fill'd with dust; our eyes We closed by this ethereal pest annoy'd. At length a calm succeeds; the virgin then Is seen, lamenting shrill with plaintive notes, Like the poor bird that sees her lonely nest Spoil'd of her young; so when she sees the dead Antigone Exposed uncover'd, she with sorrow wail'd, And utter'd execrations on the head With her own hands Of those who did the deed. Instant the loose dry dust she brings, and pours, Thrice from a fine-wrought brazen vase she pours Libations thrice repeated o'er the dead. We see her thus employ'd, we rush on her, We seize her, nothing at our sight appall'd. Both with the former and the present deed We charg'd her; nothing she denied of all. Pleasing at once and painful this to me : That I am free from danger is just cause Of pleasure; but to danger that I lead Those whom I highly honour, gives me pain : But nature so has form'd me, all these things Than my own safety lighter I esteem. Say thou, ay thou thus bending to the ground Thy head, this heinous charge dost thou deny? I did it; nor the deed will I deny. And none knows whence they sprung. Behoved me not, Through fear of man's proud will profaning these, To draw on me the vengeance of the gods. I knew that I must die: this I had known, If not proclaim'd by thee: if I shall die. A little eré my time, I shall esteem Death as a well-earn'd prize. What wretch, that lives, Like me, with many ills enclosed around, Would not deem death a prize? That such a doom Is then assign'd to me, afflicts me not; But with tame sufferance if a brother's corse Unburied I had left, that had indeed Been deep affliction; this excites no grief. If now my actions seem to thee unwise, i Thy thoughts with wisdom little commerce hold. Chorus This daring spirit from her daring sire Creon The virgin draws, to ills untaught to yield. 1: But know, the vauntings of the fiercest pride Sink most: the strong steel rigid from the flames Through its hard temper brittle may'st thou see, And soonest shiver'd; the most fiery steed With a small curb oft govern'd have I known. Ill suits the arrogant presumptuous mind... Those that are slaves to others. Then she learn'd This insult, when she overleap'd the laws Which had the sanction of authority. And having done the deed, she further adds Fresh insult, glories in the bold attempt, And proudly laughs. But I am not a man, She is the man, if this audacious act Passes unpunish'd. Though she boasts her birth, The daughter of my sister, were she sprung From one more near than all whom Hercian Jove Hath to my blood allied, not e’en those ties Should save her from the rigour of her fate; No, nor her sister ; for with equal guilt Her too I charge, associate to entomb This corse. But call her hither; late I saw Within her raving and distracted mood. ® The guileful mind, that forms its base designs In darkness, oft such fits of frenzy seize. But I detest the wretch, who tries to dress, When caught, his villanies in virtue’s garb. Antigone Wou’dst thou do more than kill me now so caught? Creon No more: thy death my vengeance will appease. Antigone Why then delay, since nothing in thy words To me is pleasing, or will ever please ; Nor will my words be pleasing to thy ear? A brighter glory whence could I obtain Than from this deed, a brother’s honour’d corse Entombing? All here present would aloud Applaud the deed, but fear hath chain’d their tongues. Amidst their envied greatness kings enjoy This. pow’r, to do and speak whate’er they please. Creon , Dost thou alone of all the Thebans here See this? Antigone These also see it, but for thee They close their lips. - Creon But wou’dst thou not feel shame, Shou’dst thou from these dissent ? Antigone It is no shame To reverence a brother, Creon y Was not he, Whom Thebes entomb’d, thy brother too? from Harpocration. This Jupiter was the guardian of the house,in the court of witich his altar stood. Antigone ; Tm He was, Of the same father and same mother born. Creon How to the Youth, who for his country died, Wilt thou show honour Antigone This the dead entomb’d Will not attest. Creon If equally thou grace The impious? Antigone He was not a slave who died, He was a brother. Creon Ravaging these realms For which the other bravely fought. Antigone , These rites Pluto demands for all. sabe Creon . Not that the base Be honour’d like the good. Antigone But in the realms _ Beneath who knows if pious this be deemed ? Creon A foe, though dead, can never be a friend,. Antigone To mutual love, not hate, my nature leads, Creon If thou must love them, to the shades below Go now, and love them there; for be assur’d No women, while I live, shall bear the sway. cuor, Before the gates Ismene now appears, The tears, expressive of a sister’s love, Fast-streaming from her eyes ; and o’er her brows Sorrow hath spread a gloomy cloud, that dims The glowing radiance of her beauteous cheeks. Creon CREON, ANTIGONE, ISMENE, CHORUS. Thou, like a viper creeping through my house Ismene With wily secrecy to drain my blood, (For little did I think that two such pests I nurtured, to subvert my throne combined). Tell me, with her didst thou prepare this tomb Will thou confess it, or abjure the deed? I did it, with my sister in the deedivi Consorting, and with her partake the blame. Juctice allows not this: thou hadst no will To aid; nor with thee did I share the act. Yet in thy danger I am not ashamed To make myself a partner of thy fate. Whose deed this is the dead and Pluto know." Love shown in words alone contents not me. Yet scorn me not, disdain not that I diese With thee, and pay that reverence to the dead. Die not with me, nor thine make thou a deed Thou didst not: it sufficeth that I die. Deprived of thee, my sister, how can life: Be dear to me? Antigone Ask Creon: thy regard Is paid to him. Ismene Why dost thou give me grief, Bringing no good? Antigone If I deride thee, know That anguish rends my heart. By my prophetic words. Thou thought'st them wise; To me my judgment prompted other thoughts. Ismene Yet have we equal share in this offence. Antigone Despond not; thou may'st live: my life long since I gave, to pay this honour to the dead. Frenzy hath seized these virgins; lately one It struck, the other from her early years. Not in the wretched doth the mind, O king, Retain its vigour; crush'd with ills it sinks: Of sense deprived. Creon Of sense wast thou deprived, When basely with the base it was thy choice Of my sister if bereft, To suffer. How can I bear to live? Speak not of her, She is no more. Ismene But wilt thou kill the bride Affianced to thy son? Creon Some other bride He to his bed shall lead. Ismene But never one United by such tender ties. Creon My son With a base woman I disdain to wed. Antigone O my belov'd Hæmon, how thy father slights) Thy peace!? Creon Thy bridal bed, and thee alike My soul detests. Wilt thou deprive thy son Of one so dear? These nuptials death shall end. Ismene Her doom, I see, is fix'd, and she must die. Creon STRO. 1. Ay; so must thou, and I. No more delays; Guards, bear them hence. These women must no more Creon Be left to range at large; for e'en the bold Haemon Will fly, when death approaching near they see. Chorus ANTIS. 1. How blest their state, whose gladsome hours Glide smoothly on, untaught to taste of woe! But when (heav'n-sent) sfflictions flow, Wide-wasting the impetuous torrent pours; The house from its foundations shakes, And ruin all its sons o'ertakes. As when from Thrace the winds tempestuous sweep With dark'ning horror o'er the deep, The boiling sands are from the bottom torn, And high the surging billows borne; Furious they lash the solid shore, The promontories round rebellow to the roar. The house of Labdacus of old In all the pomp of regal splendor stood; Till rough misfortune's swelling flood Ruin on former ruin deep'ning rolfd., Some god adds fury to its force, And urges its resistless course; No dams, no mounds the raging torrent stay, Race after race it sweeps away. O the last branch of this imperial line A brighter sun now seem'd to shine; The bloody dust the dead heap'd round, [ground. Proud speech, and frenzy wild soon mow her to the Creon STRO. 2. ANTIS. 2. Shall man's presumptuous pride control Thy pow'r, O sovereign ruler of the skies? Enfeebling sleep ne'er closed thy eyes : The months of gods of toil unconscious roll; And time, that leads old age along Withering the vigour of the strong, Beholds thee, glorious in immortal might, High-throned in heav'n's resplendent light. But this firm law, ordain'd through ages past, Is now, and will for ever last; No state to mortals shall remain From wasting ills secure, and sorrow's sickly train. Yet Hope oft waves her wanton wings And flattering dreams of distant joy inspires; Oft o'er man's gay and light desires The dreary gloom of blank illusion flings; Forward with eager pace he goes; He hath no sense of latent woes, Till on the treacherous fires he treads aghast. Well said the Sage in ages past, Ills they misdeem as good, whose darkling mind The god to misery hath assigned;... Heedless awhile through life they stray, But ruin couches close to spring upon its prey. See Hæmon comes, the youngest of thy sons, Oppress'd with sorrow for the virgin's fate, And grieving of his bride to be deprived. We soon shall know more certain than the Seers. style its elevation, are represented as three persons cutting down this last branch of the imperial stem. Vid. Valckanaer. in Eurip. Phœniss. Hearing the sentence we have firmly pass'd On her that should have been thy bride, my son, Enraged against thy father art thou come, Or doing this am I still dear to thee? My father, [ am thine: be thou my guide Where honour calls; to follow shall be mine. With me no nuptials ever shall be deem'd Of higher import than thy just commands. Thus it behoves thee from thy heart, my son, A father more than all things to revere. This is the pride, the glory of a man, To train obedient children in his house, Prompt on his enemies t' avenge his wrongs, And with the father's zeal in honour high To hold his friends. But he, who nurtures sons That in the hour of trial from his aid Shrink spiritless and weak, hath to himself Engender'd grief, and slaughter to his foes. Then do not for a woman now, my son, Debase thy noble mind; be not a slave To pleasure: cold is the embrace of her Who shares thy nuptial bed, if baseness taint Creon Her mind; no ulcer rankles with such rage As a false friend. Cast then this virgin off As one of hostile thought, and let her wed Haemon Some other in the dreary realms below. For since of all the city her alone Creon The laws contemning I have clearly found, My faith, my honour to the state is pledged, Haemon And she shall die. To Jove, who guards the rights Creon Of kindred lineage let her make appeal: Haemon If those, whom nature hath allied to me, In deeds unseemly I protect, like claim Creon They, who are strangers to my blood, might urge Haemon With added reason. For in private life Creon Whoever to the honour of his house Haemon Is faithful found, that man will be approv’d 3 Just to the state: but he, who scorns, or dares) Creon To violate the laws, or forms a thought Haemon To lord it o'er his rulers, shall from me T Creon No praise obtain. He, whom the state appoints Haemon Its sovereign, should in all things be obey'd, Their justice, their injustice, or their weight!.. Creon Unquestion'd. In that man, who promptly pays Haemon Obedience to his Chief, would I confide, id Creon Assured that he with honour will command, Or be commanded; in the storm of war. Haemon Assured that he his station will maintain, Creon A brave associate. Than wild Anarchy. Haemon There is no greater ill: beneath its rage Creon Cities are sunk, and houses are o'erturn'd; And in the contest of the spear it breaks. W Haemon The battle's bleeding ranks; whilst Order saves Creon Those who obey command: by those that jule) Haemon This with firm hand should always be sustain'd Creon And never for a woman be o'erturnida ons vol Better, if we must fall, to fallibymen, Haemon And not beneath a woman's spirit sink. Chorus HÆMON, CREON, CHORUS. We judge, if not by age of sense bereft, What thou hast said, with wisdom thou hast said. Haemon HEM. Reason, my father, by the gods is giv'n To men, the noblest treasure we can boast. That without reason thou hast framed thy speech I can not say, I know not how to say, This with more grace some other may pronounce. Me nature bids with deep attention mark Respecting thee how each may speak, how act, How blame in words that would offend thy ears. Thy presence on the people strikes an awe; Their secret murmurs it is mine to hear; For Thebes laments this virgin, as her fate Of all her sex the least deserving, doom'd Most wretchedly for glorious deeds to die :.... "That she her brother's corse, in battle slain, "Disdains to leave unburied, to be torn " By hungry dogs and ravenous beasts of prey, "Deserves she not for this the brightest meed " Of golden honour?" Such the general voice, Which in dark murmurs whispers discontent. The world hath not a treasure which I prize High as thy prosperous honours; to a son... There is no ornament to grace his name Bright as his father's glory; and on him. Again th' illustrious son fresh glory beams. Far be this temper from thy mind, to think What thou may'st say, and nothing else, is right. Whoe'er imagines prudence all his own, Or deems that he hath pow'rs to speak and judge, Such as none other hath, when they are known They are found shallow. There are many things Which e'en the wise without disgrace may learn, And yield convinc'd. Beneath the wintry storms Thou seest the trees, that bend their heads, preserve Their branching honours; those which boldly dare The tyrannous blasts, uprooted fall and die. The pilot thus, who proudly swells his sails With vigour unrelax'd, o'ersets his bark, Then on the shatter'd planks at random floats.! Abate thy anger then, and let thy thoughts Yield to cool reason: if my younger years Have aught of judgment, I I esteem that man... Of most exalted merit, whose large mind Contains all knowledge: but since nature deigns This ample grace to few, from those who speak And counsel well our glory is to learn. Chorus If well what prudence dictates he hath urged, Thee it behoves, O king, to hear: and thou To him attend. The words of both are wise. Shall I then, at my age shall I be taught Creon Wisdom by him, by one so green in years? HEM. Nothing that is not just: though few my years, Not what my age, but what is right regard. Is it then just to favour those, who dare To disobey? I wish no favour. To those, whose deeds are ill, Hath not she been found Deep-tainted with this ill ? Not such the voice Of Thebes through all its state. Haemon Shall then the state Prescribe to me my laws? These are the words Of inexperienced youth. Who then, but I, Hath right to rule the state? That is no state, Where one man lords it with despotic sway. Is not the king lord of the state? Alone Thus o'er a desert kingdom might'st thou reign. Creon HEM. HEM. HEM. HEM. HEM. Mark him; he pleads a woman's cause. If thou A woman art: for thee my zeal is warm. Thou basest of mankind, wilt thou oppose Thy father's will? I see my father err Wide from the laws of justice.. Do I err Strengthening my sovereign pow'r? That gains no strength From insult to the gods. Degenerate mind, Beneath a woman's sunk! To baseness sunk. Me never shalt thou see. For her thy tongue Haemon Now argues. And for thee, and for myself, And for th' infernal gods. She shall not live To be thy bride. And if she dies, alone She shall not die. What, is thy daring pride Ris'n to this height, to threats ? What threats, to plead." Against a rash decree ? Of wisdom void Thou shalt be taught by sorrow to be wise.... HEM. I will not say my father is unwise. Thou woman's slave, forbear; urge me no more. HEM. Is it thy will to speak, and nothing hear? Creon HEM. HFM. HEM. HEM. It is. But by the heights of heav'n I swear, Thou shalt not in thy insults long rejoice. Bring forth that hated wretch; before his face Now in her bridegroom's presence let her die. Haemon HEM. Not in my presence: no; before my face. She shall not die; admit not such a thought; Nor shalt thou ever see my face again. Associate with thy friends, and spend thy rage 'Mongst those, who tamely will thy frenzy bear. Chorus CREON, CHORUS. In rage with hurried step the youth is gone: To deeds of fierceness grief such spirits works. Creon Let him then go, and dare beyond his might: These virgins from their doom he shall not save. Chorus Is it thy purpose then that both should die? Creon No; not the guiltless. I approve thy words Chorus What death to the offender is decreed? Creon Deep in a yawning cave beneath a rock From human footsteps far removed, alive I will enclose her, and a little food Only allow, that no unhallow'd stain Pollute the state. There to th' infernal king, Of all the gods whom she reveres alone, Pouring her vows she haply will obtain That she die not; or rather learn at length: How little reverence to the dead avails. o. TON Chorus STRO. ANTIS. O Love, resistless in thy might, Triumphant o'er the pow'r of gold, In youth's soft cheek with beauty bright Joying thy sweet domain to hold, Thou rulest o'er th' extended main, The rural hut, the pastoral plain; Thy pow'r th' immortal gods obey, And mortal men confess thy sway But all, who feel thy piercing darts, Feel madness rankling in their hearts. By thee the virtuous mind beguil'd Antigone GOLD Basely to wrong is drawn aside; By thee contentions fierce and wild Raise storms in hearts by blood allied. Desire, in flames now seen to rise Caught from the virgin's radiant eyes, Disdains the curb of Laws to own, But with them shares their potent throne; While Venus, sovereign of the soul, Victorious smiles, and scorns control. E'en I at this sad sight beyond due bounds Am carried, and the fountain of my tears No longer can restrain, whilst I behold Antigone thus borne to share the bed Of death, the common bed where all repose. Ye reverend men, inhabitants of Thebes, My country, you behold me treading now. For the last time these paths, the sun's bright beams For the last time beholding, never more : For me the all-composing hand of death Leads to the dismal banks of Acheron; No nuptial rites, no hymeneal song Are mine; to Acheron a bride I go.... Chorus ANTIGONE, CHORUS. Therefore illustrious and with praise obtain'd Wilt thou go down to the dark cave of death. Not wasted by the pains of slow disease, Nor by the sword cut off, dost thou descend, But, as none other, by thine own free choice, And living, to the monarch of the dead. Thus on the heights of Sipylus of old The Phrygian stranger miserably died, Daughter of Tantalus; the rigid rock, Antigone Like ivy wreath'd around her, and subdued. Her vital pow'rs. Her, melting into dews... Fast-trickling, (such the voice of fame) e'en now The currents fail not, but the gushing tears Stream from her eyes, and down the mountain flow. A doom like hers hath fate to me assign'd. Chorus She was divine, and sprung from race divine; But we are mortal, and of mortals born. For thee how glorious then to share like fate With those of heav'nly race, and as the gods Revered, like them to live, like them to die! Antigone Nay, do not mock me; by my country's gods Insult me not ere I am sunk in death, While yet I stand before your eyes. O Thebes, And you, the splendid habitants of Thebes With various treasures rich! Ye sacred founts Of Dirce, and thou grove of Thebes, whose glades Are open to the frequent-rolling cars! You all can witness for me, how by friends Unwept, and by what laws I go condemn'd To the rude prison of the hollow rock, Of this unwonted tomb. Unhappy me, I have, or in my life, or in my death, No dwelling with the living, or the dead!........ Chorus Thy daring was extreme, and thy offence 'Gainst the high throne of justice. O my child, O'er thee some trespass of thy father hangs!*** Antigone Oh, thou hast touch'd the griefs that rend my heart With sharpest pangs, my father's mournful fate Through the wide world divulged, and all the ills Which sunk th' illustrious house of Labdacus! Ye horrors of my mother's nuptial rites, My father in unhappy hour ye led To the same couch from which he took his birth; And thence, O miserable me, I sprung! With them accursed, unwedded, I descend To share their gloomy mansions. Fatal too Thy nuptials; O my brother: thou, though dead, Draw'st me, yet living, to the realms below. Chorus To act with piety denotes a soul Antigone Touch'd with religious awe: but the high pow'r .... Of those invested with the sovereign rule ז'ניי May never be transgress'd. Indignant pride, Fix'd to its purpose, hath thy ruin wrought...... No pitying tear, no friend, no nuptial rites Are mine, as thus unhappy I am led This destined way. No more shall I behold The sacred orb of yon bright-beaming sun; Yet not one friend laments or weeps my fate. If mournful cries and wailings before death Avail'd, there is not one, be well assured, LOI That e'er would cease them. Instant take her hence, Enclose her in the rock's sepulchral cave, As I commanded, leave her there alone,... Either to die, or there to live entomb'd. We from her death receive no stain: but she No more shall with the living converse hold.T O thou dark tomb, thou rugged bridal bed, D Deep mansion, which shalt ever close me round, To thee I go; I go to join my friends, A numerous train, whom sunk among the dead Hath Proserpine received. I go the last coli And most unhappy, ere th' allotted space...! Of life I reach. Yet glowing at my heart..... I feed this hope, that to my father dear, And dear to thee, my mother, dear to thee, ol My brother, I shall go; since with these 'hands Your bodies I with cleansing lavers wash'd, Added each ritual ornament, and pour'd Libations at your tombs. And now thy corse, Loved Polynices, in the earth I laid, And for the pious deed have this reward; Yet those of better judgment will approve i My care, which paid these honours to the dead. Where I a mother now, were I a wife, Mouldering in death if child or husband lay, I would not, if the state opposed the deed, In such a task engage. Ask you what rules Direct my conduct? If an husband dies, Another might be wedded; to a child, One lost, another father might give birth: But when both parents in the earth are laid Entomb'd, a brother can no more be born. Me, by these thoughts impell'd with hallow'd rites To honour thee, my brother, Creon deem'd Deep-stain'd with guilt, and daring heinous deeds; He seized me, with rude hands he leads me now Of nuptial rites, of hymeneal song, Of bridal bed deprived, and the sweet joys A mother in her children's nurture knows; But thus oppress'd with wretchedness, by friends Abandon'd, to the caves of death I go Alive. What rites, what honours of the gods Have I transgress'd? But why, unhappy me, Why to the gods look more? What heav'nly pow'r Shall I invoke, since for my pious deeds I bear the vengeance to the impious due? If this the justice of the gods demands, And I offend, these sufferings I forgive : If these offend, no greater ill be theirs Than they to me unjustly have assign'd. Chorus CREON, ANTIGONE, CHORUS. The tempest of her passions yet is high; Chorus The same impetuous spirit rules her yet. For this the slaves that lead her shall be taught With tears their slow obedience to repent. Tiresias Death from that menace is not distant far. Antigone I will not sooth thee with the flattering hope That thy fix'd doom shall ever be reversed. Thou city of my fathers, royal Thebes, And you, who from my country drew your birth, Ye gods, I hence am forced; I am no more! And you, who o'er the Theban state preside, See the last virgin of an honour'd line, Your kings; see what I suffer, and from whom, See me condemn'd for pious deeds to die! Chorus STRO. 1. Thus the beauteous Danae lay Long doom'd in brass-girt walls to dwell, Denied the sun's ethereal ray Enclosed in her sepulchral cell : Yet her rich illustrious blood From a long line of Argive monarchs flow'd; And she, unconscious of his secret love, Cherish'd the golden gems of Jove. O fate, resistless is thy pow'r, Triumphant o'er the heav'n-descended show'r, The rampired wall, war's furious train, And the black bark that rides the roaring main ! Thus the Thracian king, whose pride Dash'd the scorn'd Thyrsus to the ground, And dared th' avenging god deride, In chains of rigid rock lay bound: Sunk his soul to deep dismay, His fury melted by degrees away; Now knew he that his rude unhallow'd pride, By frenzy fired, a god defied; For he severe with stern disdain From their loved Orgies awed the raptured train, Forbade the Bacchic torch to shine, And scorn'd the tuneful Muses' song divine.. Nigh the clashing rocks, whose brow Frowns o'er the double sea that roars Foaming with angry waves below, You saw, ye wild Bosphorean shores, Thracian Salmydessus saw (Where Mars the neighbouring cities holds in awe) The sons of Phineus, and the wound abhorr'd ; You saw their darken'd eye-balls gor'd; Nor sword, nor spear, nor dart was found, Unhappy youths, to give the wound :. Creon ANTIS. 1. STRO. 2. ANTIS. 2. TIR. 1. See where the savage stepdame stands, The pointed shuttle arms her bloody hands. Wasting in their dreary cel¹ (The hope of nuptial joys no more) With woe and darkness doom'd to dwell, Their mother's miseries they deplore; Yet her pure and noble blood Rich from the high-born Erecthidæ flow'd; And where the rock its winding caverns forms, Nurtured amidst her father's storms, Swift as the courser's rapid flight The virgin bounded o'er the mountain's height: But fate with aged step and slow O'ertook her speed, and chain'd her down to woe. Ye rulers of the Theban state, we come As is our wont, both seeing with the eyes Of one: the blind some leading hand require. Aged Tiresias, what of import high Hath now arisen ? That I will impart : And thou ob ey the Seer. Did I e'er slight; The wisdom of thy mind? The realms of Thebes Through dangers therefore safely hast thou steer'd. To thy sage counsels much indeed I owe. Be counsell'd now: fate hangs upon this hour. What may this be? I tremble at thy words. Hear what my skill hath mark'd, and thou wilt know Placed on my ancient seat of augury, Whence all my auspices I draw, the voice Of birds I hear; unknown the sound; their screams Were wild and strange, of ill presage; and fierce With bloody talons each the other rent. I knew this; for the clashing of their wings Gave not dark signs: I trembled, and explored The hallow'd fires that on the altars burn. But from the sacrifice no flame shone bright, Nor vapour from the humid flesh arose; It wasted on the ashes, and roll'd low A dull black smoke, exsuding on the fire; a The entrails swell'd and burst; the melting thighs, Shrunk from th' involving crawls, lay bare. These signs Of dark and dangerous import from my boy I learn'd; to me he shows them, and my voice Explains to others. From thy harsh resolves These omens threat the state; the birds of prey, And dogs, whose ravenous hunger hath devour'd The hapless Polynices slain in war, Pollute our public altars: for this cause Our pray'rs, our victims the offended gods Accept no more; no hallow'd flames ascend; No more are heard th' auspicious notes of birds Gorged now with human flesh. Weigh these things well, My son; to all of mortal race to err Is common; but that man is not unblest, Nor unadvised, who having err'd, and felt The ill awaiting error, heals the wound,.. Nor perseveres unmoved: th' obdurate mind Pays dear for its perverseness. To the slain. Be then appeased: why woud'st thou wound a corse? A brave man wars not with the dead. With thought To thee benevolent I well advise. Most pleasant is instruction when it comes,.. And with it comes advantage, from the wise. I am your mark, old man; and all your shafts At me are aim'd: nor are the prophet's arts 'Gainst me unpractised: by this venal race I as a slave am sold, and led away. Pursue your traffic; be the precious ore Of Sardis, and the Indian gold, your gain; Him in the earth you never shall entomb.. No; would the eagles of almighty Jove Bear to their sovereign's throne his mangled flesh, I would not, dreading that pollution, yield To lay him in the tomb; for well I know That mortals never can pollute the gods. Yet there are men, thou aged Seer, held high For various excellence, who basely fall, By sordid lucre when allured they speak The words of baseness urged in honour's style. Is there a man that knows, is there a man That comprehends....... What wou'dst thou? To us all Is this address'd? With what high excellence Wisdom transcends all treasures? This he knows, Who knows that folly is our greatest bane. Heavy on thee hangs that disease. Reproach I would not harshly on the Seer retort. Thou dost reproach me, when thou say'st my voice Announces falsehoods. You are fond of gold, All the prophetic tribe. The tyrant loves Treasures by baseness gain'd. Know'st thou thy words Are to a king address'd? I know it well; For o'er a kingdom saved by me thy reign Thou holdest. As a Seer I deem thee wise, But as a man unjust. The dark decrees Of fate, which in my breast I would have kept Conceal'd thou wilt compel me to disclose. Disclose them then, but not through hopes of gain. Respecting thee I have no hope of gain. But know, my purpose never shall be sold. And know thou well that ere the rapid wheels Of the sun's chariot many circles roll, One sprung from thee, thy offspring, thou shalt pay Dead for the dead a recompense, for those Whom from the light of life to the dark realms Thou hast sent down dishonour'd, and entomb'd In the rock's dreary cavern; and for those Whom of the honours to the gods below, Of solemn obsequies, and hallow'd rites Thou hast deprived; a deed, that nor to thee Belongs, nor to the gods above; a deed Of tyrant force: the slow-avenging pow'rs, The Furies of th' infernal gods, for this In ambush wait to seize thee, and in ills Like these will plunge thee. Go now, see if gold Hath bribed the prophet's mercenary voice : Pass a few moments, the laments of men, The shrieks of women through thy house shall sound. Indignant all the hostile states are roused, Whose mangled dead the dogs or beasts of prey Have in these plains polluted, or the birds Of obscene wing, bearing th' unhallow'd stench E'en to the sacred altars of the gods. These are the shafts (for thou hast moved my soul To anger) which at thee I aim: their force Strikes deep, nor shalt thou shun the burning wound. Boy, lead me hence; and let him vent his rage On those of fresher years; or curb his tongue With modesty, and learn to train his mind To gentler thoughts than those which now it bears. Chorus TIRESIAS, CREON, CHORUS. TIR. TIR. TIR. TIR. TIR. TIR. TIR, TIR. TIR. TIR. TIR. TIR. TIR. CREON, CHORUS. The Seer is gone, O king, and hath foretold Things dreadful: never from my earliest youth To these grey hairs now scatter'd o'er my head, Knew I his voice prophetic to the state Aught false, or faithless in th' event pronounce. I know it; and distraction rends my mind. To yield, would wound me deep; but to oppose, With keener agonies would pierce my soul. Chorus Son of Menæceus, prudence is required. What must I do? Thy counsel shall prevail. Chorus Go, from the rock's dark cave the virgin raise, And for the outcast dead erect a tomb. Creon Dost thou approve this? Wou'dst thou that I yield? Chorus And instantly, Oʻking: malignant minds The vengeance of the gods with speed o'ertakes. Creon .. My heart reluctant yields to thy advice;........ But with Necessity we may not strive. Chorus Go thou, nor others with this charge entrust. Instant I go. You, my attendants, haste, With axes in your hands haste to the plain... And I (since now my sentence is reversed) Who bound her, will in person set her free.... I fear that to preserve the ancient laws Through all his life is man's discreetest part. O thou by various names renown'd, The Theban Nymph's illustrious grace, Sprung from enraptur'd Jove's embrace, While all his awful thunders roll'd around; Who joy'st thy richest gifts to pour O'er blest Italia's favour'd shore, And on the hallow'd Eleusinian plain Where Ceres waves her ripen'd gold, With her thy mystic reign dost hold; God of the shouting Thyad train, Pleased o'er the walls, which thy loved Thebes enclose, A present guardian to preside, Where deep Ismenus rolls his tide, 'Midst the fierce race that from the dragon rose ! Thee saw the wild and rocky steep, Whose forked summits proudly rise, And stretch their rude brows to the skies, Where the Corycian Nymphs their orgies keep: Thee, the flames blazing on the mount: • Thee, pure Castalia's sacred fount: Thee, the Nysæan mountain's craggy sides, O'er which the mantling ivy twines: The swelling hillocks green with vines, Whose purple fruit their foliage hides; And waking harmony's enchanting pow'rs, On thee attends thy raptur'd train, Raises the high immortal strain, And hails thee guardian of the Theban tow'rs. The Theban tow'rs their rampires rear, Thy guardian care their boast, their pride; They to thy mother too were dear, Who in the flaming thunder died. Now, while her banners Discord waves, While through our streets Confusion raves, Prompt to avert our threaten'd woe Haste from the steep Parnassian brow, Or from Euboea's groaning shore, And to thy Thebans peace restore! Thou leader of the starry train That flaming bursts upon the sight; Director of th' harmonious strain Whose sweet notes charm the ear of night, Hear, son of Jove, O Bacchus, hear, Bright in thy form divine appear Thy frentic Nymphs from Naxos lead, The frolic dance who lightly tread, And, as around their god they stand, Hail thee the leader of their band! Messenger STRO. 1. ANTIS. 1. STRO. 2. ANTIS. 2. MESSENGER, CHORUS. Inhabitants of Thebes, the honour'd seat Of Cadmus and Amphion, such the life Of man, so unassured his fickle state, I cannot prize it high, nor would dispraise: For fortune ever raises or casts down.. The happy, and th' unhappy, at her will, And no man can divine the fates to come. Such was the state of Creon, it from me Excited admiration; from its foes He saved this land, o'er all its realms obtain'd The monarchy, reign'd sole with sovereign pow'r, And flourish'd in a noble race of sons. Now all is lost: for when the joys of life Man knows no more, may he be said to live? He breathes, but hath not life. Nay, let his house Be stored with riches, let a monarch's pomp Attend him; yet 'midst these if heart-felt joy Be absent, all the rest I would not prize, Nor purchase with the shadow e'en of smoke. Chorus What ills, that cause the royal house to mourn, Comest thou to tell us? Messenger They are dead: those live Who caused their death. Chorus Inform us whose this deed, Who lies in death? Messenger Hæmon is dead; he lies Welt'ring in blood. Chorus Slain by his father's hand, Or by his own? Messenger By his own hand he died, Against his father for the virgin's death Enraged...! Chorus What truths, O Seer, thy voice announced ! Messenger These are fulfill'd: yet others claim our thought. Chorus Bur see Eurydice, th' unhappy wife Of Creon: these sad tidings she hath heard, Or chance hath brought her from the royal house. Eurydice EURY. Ye citizens of Thebes, I heard the voice! Of rumour, as I came forth, at the shrine on Of Pallas suppliant to address my vows:/ The bars, that closed the gates, it chanced my hand Was opening, at that instant the report Of ill my house affecting reach'd my ear. With terror struck in my attendants armsl I sunk, and life forsook my fainting frame. But tell me all; repeat the mournful tale; In woes not unexperienced I shall hear. Messenger EURYDICE, MESSENGER, CHORUS. GANE My honour'd Mistress, I will tell thee all (For I was present) nor conceal the truth. Why should I flatter, when a little time Would show my falsehood? Truth is always plain. I to the summit of the field thy lord Attendant where exposed and torn by dogs The wretched corse of Polynices lay: Him (our vows first to Proserpine addressid And Pluto, that propitious now their wrath They would avert) in hallow'd lavers cleansed On a green pyre of new-pluck'd boughs we laid, And burn'd the mangled relics; then raised high The earth contiguous, a sepulchral mound. Thence to the virgin's cavern'd rock we go, The nuptial couch of Death; when of our train One heard the distant sounds of loud laments, ....., Which echoed round that bridal bed of Death ill With obséquies unhonour'd: to his dord He bears the tidings. As the king approach'd The hollow murmurs of al voice resound; n la Al Deeply he sigh'd, and spoke these mournful words, "Are then my fears prophetic? Do I tread,t/ "Unhappy me, a path that leads to woe "The most afflicting? Moaning to my ear "Comes my son's voice. You, that attend me, go, "Haste to the cavern, from its mouth remove... "The rock's obstructing mass; stand near, observe « If Hamon’s voice I hear, or by the gods " I am deceived." Obeying these commands, Utter'd in deep despair, we went, we look'd, And in the cave's extreme recess beheld The virgin strangled; round her neck the zone, Which bound her flowing robes, her hands had twined. She lay, and near her lay the youth, his armsi: Clasp'd round her, mourning the unhappy fate Of his lost bride, his father's ruthless deeds, l And all his nuptial joys thus sunk in woe. When Creon saw him, with a mournful groan He enter’d, and lamenting thus exclaim/’d, "O my unhappy son, what dost thou here?ie "What is thy purpose? What calamity" "Hath sunk thee thus? Come from this cave, my son, " Suppliant thy father begs thee." His wild eyes The youth roll'd fiercely round, and gave strong proof Of stern disdain and hate; nor made reply, But drew his pointed sword: his father's flight The stroke prevented; then th' unhappy youth A Turning his rage against himself, while yet-1 His arm was raised, in his own side plunged deep The furious weapon, and, retaining yet, T His sense, around the virgin threw his arms.. Yet warm, and there expired, with his last breath Distaining her pale cheeks with drops of blood. Dead with the dead he lies, and in the house Of Pluto celebrates his nuptial rites; A melancholy proof that rash designs Bring the severest miseries on man. Chorus MESSENGER, CHORUS. Canst thou conjecture what this means? The queen Is gone, and not a word burst from her lips... Messenger I am astonish'd; but my hopes are warm That dignity of mind from public view Restrains her grief for her son's fate: retired Amidst her female train she may indulge Her sighs and streaming tears: from rash attempts Her prudence oft experienced is her guard. Chorus I know not: but a silence so reserved Imports some dread event; such are my thoughts: A clamorous sorrow wastes itself in sound. Messenger Let us draw near the house; we soon shall know If fatal purpose in her troubled mind Secret she harbours: wise is thy remark; Silence oppresses with too great a weight. Chorus But see, the king advances, in his hands Bearing the signal token of his woes. Not from another, might I freely speak, But from himself arose this fatal ill. Creon CREON, CHORUS. Alas the frenzies of a wayward mind Ill-judging, rigorous! See their deathful fruits, The dead to those who slew them how allied! These are my unblest counsels! Omy son, My son! Untimely is thy fate, cut off In youth's fresh prime: yet thou wast blameless; all The fatal rashness, all the guilt is mine. Chorus At length, O king, thou seest what justice is. Too late I learn it now; then, then the god Laid on my head this load, impell'd me then To these rough paths, and all our high-raised joys Spurn'd to the ground. Oh vain, vain toils of men! Creon ATTENDANT, CREON, CHORUS. My royal lord, what dreadful ills are thine! There in thy hands thou bearest; in thy house Others await thee: thou wilt see them soon. Is their aught worse? Is there aught else of ill? Thy queen, the mother of this breathless youth, Gored with fresh wounds, unhappy, is no more. O thou polluted port of death, why thus, Why thus dost thou destroy me? What ill sounds, Ah me, of dreadful utterance hast thou sent! Chorus Thou hast brought death to one already dead..... Attendant What say'st thou? This is new: and death on death Is heap'd. My wife a bleeding victim slain ! Thou may'st behold her, to the private scenes Allotted to the females not removed. Wretch that I am, another ill I see, A second ill: and me, unhappy me What fate yet waits? Before me lies my son Late slain, and there another new in death; Unhappy mother, and unhappy son! Beside the altar by a sudden wound She fell, and closed her eyes in endless night; But first lamented the illustrious cave Creon Of Megareus, her son first lost; then mourn'd The fate of Hæmon; and with solemn grief Bewail'd thy cruel deeds which slew thy sons. Chill horrow shakes my frame. O wretch, wretch, wretch! Will no kind hand plunge deep th' avenging sword, Deep in my breast, and end an hated lifeti Conflicting 'midst inextricable woend of Amidst her anguish with her dying breath She charged thee with the death of both her sons. How did her hand inflict this deadly wound! Soon as she heard her son's lamented death, vi In her sad heart she plunged the fatal sword Not on another can this fault be charged; Noit is all my own; the deed was mine; I, O my son, I slew thee! Lead me hence, Far hence with speed oh lead me, for I now Am nothing; no, I have no being now. O Chorus Well hast thou judged, if aught in in ill's be well! Calamities, when present to the view, Though slight, with keenest anguish pierce the sense! Creon Advance, advance, appear thou last and best Of all my fortunes; bring my final day l Haste, that another day I ne'er may see nod These things are future, leave them to the gods. But what is present how must we dispose But what I warmly wish I made my pray'r.. Make now no wish, no pray'r: to mortal man There is no refuge from his destined woe od Take hence this lifeless shadow. Omy song I slew thee, but I purposed not thy death biol Thee too, my wife, I slew. Unhappy me!! Ah, which way shall I turn? where rest my thoughts? All is distraction, all is ruin: fate Bursts on my head, resistless in its force Chorus To happiness the best, the surest guide Is wisdom: but irreverence to the gods Becomes not mortal man; the mighty vaunts Of pride, with mighty punishments repaid, Teach his old age thus humbled to be wise.