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Part III
Part III
Enter Guards, bringing in Antigone
As to this portent which the Gods have sent,
I stand in doubt. Can I, who know her, say
That this is not the maid Antigone?
O wretched one of wretched father born,
What means this? Surely `tis not that they bring
Thee as a rebel `gainst the king`s decree,
And taken in the folly of thine act?
Guard. Yes! She it was by whom the deed was done.
We found her burying. Where is Creon, pray?
Chor. Forth from his palace comes he just in time.
Enter Creon
Creon. What chance is this with which my coming fits?
Guard. Men, O my king, should pledge themselves to naught;
For cool reflection makes their purpose void.
I hardly thought to venture here again,
Cowed by thy threats, which then fell thick on me;
But since no joy is like the sweet delight
Which comes beyond, above, against our hopes,
I come, although I swore the contrary,
Bringing this maiden, whom in act we found
Decking the grave. No need for lots was now;
The prize was mine, no other claimed a share.
And now, O king, take her, and as thou wilt,
Judge and convict her. I can claim a right
To wash my hands of all this troublous coil.
Creon. How and where was it that ye seized and brought her?
Guard. She was in act of burying. Now thou knowest
All that I have to tell.
Creon. And dost thou know
And rightly weigh the tale thou tellest me?
Guard. I saw her burying that selfsame corpse
Thou bad`st us not to bury. Speak I clear?
Creon. How was she seen, detected, prisoner made?
Guard. The matter passed as follows: When we came,
With all those dreadful threats of thine upon us,
Sweeping away the dust which, lightly spread,
Covered the corpse, and laying stript and bare
The tained carcase, on the hill we sat
To windward, shunning the infected air,
Each stirring up his fellow with strong words,
If any shirked his duty. This went on
Some time, until the glowing orb of day
Stood in mid-heaven, and the scorching heat
Fell on us. Then a sudden whirlwind rose,
A scourge from heaven, raising squalls on earth,
And filled the plain, the leafage stripping bare
Of all the forest, and the air`s vast space
Was thick and troubled, and we closed our eyes
Until the plague the Gods had sent was past;
And when it ceased, a weary time being gone,
The girl was seen, and with a bitter cry,
Shrill as a bird`s, she wails, when it beholds
Its nest all emptied of its infant brood;
So she, when she beholds the corpse all stript,
Groaned loud with many moanings. And she called
Fierce curses down on those who did the deed,
And in her hand she brings some sandlike dust,
And from a well-chased ewer, all of bronze,
She pours the three libations o`er the dead.
And we, beholding, started up forthwith,
And run her down, in nothing terrified.
And then we charged her with the former deed,
As well as this. And nothing she denied.
But this to me both bitter is and sweet,
For to escape one`s self from ill is sweet,
But to bring friends to trouble, this is hard
And bitter. Yet my nature bids me count
Above all these things safety for myself.
Creon [to Antigone]. And thou, then, bending to the ground thy head,
Confessest thou, or dost deny the deed?
Antig. I own I did it. I will not deny.
Creon [to Guard]. Go thou thy way, where`er thy will may choose,
Freed from a weighty charge.
[Exit Guard.
[To Antigone] And now for thee,
Say in few words, not lengthening out thy speech,
Didst thou not know the edicts which forbade
The things thou ownest?
Antig. Right well I knew them all.
How could I not? Full clear and plain were they.
Creon. Didst thou, then, dare to disobey these laws?
Antig. Yes, for it was not Zeus who gave them forth,
Nor Justice, dwelling with the Gods below,
Who traced these laws for all the sons of men;
Nor did I deem thy edicts strong enough,
Coming from mortal man, to set at naught
The unwritten laws of God that know not change.
They are not of to-day nor yesterday,
But live for ever, nor can man assign
When first they sprang to being. Not through fear
Of any man`s resolve was I prepared
Before the Gods to bear the penalty
Of sinning against these. That I should die
I knew (how should I not?), though thy decree
Had never spoken. And, before my time
If I should die, I reckon this a gain;
For whoso lives, as I, in many woes,
How can it be but death shall bring him gain?
And so for me to bear this doom of thine
Has nothing painful. But, if I had left
My mother`s son unburied on his death,
I should have given them pain. But as things are,
Pain I feel none. And should I seem to thee
To have done a foolish deed, `tis simply this, -
I bear the charge of folly from a fool.
Chor. The maiden`s stubborn will, of stubborn sire
The offspring shows itself. She knows not yet
To yield to evils.
Creon. Know, then, minds too stiff
Most often stumble, and the rigid steel
Baked in the furnace, made exceeding hard,
Thou seest most often split and broken lie;
And I have known the steeds of fiery mood
With a small curb subdued. It is not meet
That one who lives in bondage to his neighbours
Should boast too loudly. Wanton outrage then
She learnt when first these laws of mine she crossed,
But, having done it, this is yet again
A second outrage over it to boast,
And laugh at having done it. Surely, then,
She is the man, not I, if all unscathed
Such deeds of might are hers. But be she child
Of mine own sister, nearest kin of all
That Zeus o`erlooks within our palace court,
She and her sister shall not `scape their doom
Most foul and shameful; for I charge her, too,
With having planned this deed of sepulture.
Go ye and call her. `Twas but now within
I saw her raving, losing self-command.
And still the mind of those who in the dark
Plan deeds of evil is the first to fail,
And so convicts itself of secret guilt.
But most I hate when one found out in guilt
Will seek to glaze and brave it to the end.
Antig. And dost thou seek aught else beyond my death?
Creon. Naught else for me. That gaining, I gain all.
Antig. Wilt thou delay? Of all thy words not one
Pleases me now, nor aye is like to please,
And so all mine must grate upon thine ears.
And yet how could I higher glory gain
Than giving my true brother all the rites
Of solemn burial? These who hear would say
It pleases them, did not their fear of thee
Close up their lips. This power has sovereignty,
That it can do and say whate`er it will.
Creon. Of all the race of Cadmus thou alone
Look`st thus upon the deed.
Antig. They see it too
As I do, but in fear of thee they keep
Their tongue between their teeth.
Creon. And dost thou feel
No shame to plan thy schemes apart from these?
Antig. There is no baseness in the act which shows
Our reverence for our kindred.
Creon. Was he not
Thy brother also, who against him fought?
Antig. He was my brother, of one mother born,
And of the selfsame father.
Creon. Why, then, pay
Thine impious honours to the carcase there?
Antig. The dead below will not accept thy words.
Creon. Yes, if thou equal honours pay to him,
And that most impious monster.
Antig. `Twas no slave
That perished, but my brother.
Creon. Yes, in act
To waste this land, while he in its defence
Stood fighting bravely.
Antig. Not the less does death
Crave equal rites for all.
Creon. But not that good
And evil share alike?
Antig. And yet who knows
If in that world these things are counted good?
Creon. Our foe, I tell thee, ne`er becomes our friend,
Not even when he dies.
Antig. My bent is fixed,
I tell thee, not for hatred, but for love.
Creon. Go, then, below. And if thou must have love,
Love those thou find`st there. While I live, at least,
A woman shall not rule.
Enter Ismene
Chor. And, lo! Ismene at the gate
Comes shedding tears of sisterly regard,
And o`er her brow a gathering cloud
Mars the deep roseate blush,
Bedewing her fair cheek.
Creon [to Ismene]. And thou who, creeping as a viper creeps,
Didst drain my life in secret, and I knew not
That I was rearing two accursed ones,
Subverters of my throne: come, tell me, then,
Dost thou confess thou took`st thy part in it?
Or wilt thou swear thou didst not know of it?
Ism. I did the deed. Since she will have it so,
I share the guilt; I bear an equal blame.
Antig. This, Justice will not suffer, since, in truth,
Thou wouldst have none of it. And I, for one,
Shared it not with thee.
Ism. I am not ashamed
To count myself companion in thy woes.
Antig. Whose was the deed, Death knows, and those below.
I do not love a friend who loves in words.
Ism. Do not, my sister, put me to such shame
As not to let me share thy death with thee,
And with thee pay due reverence to the dead.
Antig. Share not my death, nor make thine own this deed
Thou hadst no hand in. Let my death suffice.
Ism. And what to me is life, bereaved of thee?
Antig. Ask Creon there. To him thy tender care
Is given so largely.
Ism. Why wilt thou torture me,
In nothing bettered by it?
Antig. Yes - at thee,
E`en while I laugh, I laugh with pain of heart.
Ism. But now, at least, how may I profit thee?
Antig. Save thou thyself. I grudge not thy escape.
Ism. Ah, woe is me! and must I miss thy fate?
Antig. Thou mad`st thy choice to live, and I to die.
Ism. `Tis not through want of any words of mine.
Antig. To these thou seemest, doubtless, to be wise;
I to those others.
Ism. Yet our fault is one.
Antig. Take courage. Thou wilt live. My soul long since
Has given itself to Death, that to the dead
I might bring help.
Creon. Of these two maidens here,
The one, I say, hath lost her mind but now,
The other ever since her life began.
Ism. Yea, O my king. No mind that ever lived
Stands firm in evil days, but still it goes,
Beside itself, astray.
Creon. So then did thine
When thou didst choose thy evil deeds to do,
With those already evil.
Ism. How could I.
Alone, apart from her, endure to live?
Creon. Speak not of her. She stands no longer here.
Ism. And wilt thou slay thy son`s betrothed bride?
Creon. Full many a field there is which he may plough.
Ism. But none like that prepared for him and her.
Creon. Wives that are vile, I love not for my son.
Antig. Ah, dearest Haemon, how thy father shames thee!
Creon. Thou art too vexing, thou, and these thy words,
On marriage ever harping.
Ism. Wilt thou rob
Thine own dear son of her whom he has loved?
Creon. `Tis Death who breaks the marriage contract off.
Ism. Her doom is fixed, it seems, then. She must die.
Creon. So thou dost think, and I. No more delay,
Ye slaves. Our women henceforth must be kept
As women - suffered not to roam abroad;
For even boldest natures shrink in fear
When they behold the end of life draw nigh.
[Exeunt Guards with Antigone and Ismene.
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