CREON:
(CREON goes into the palace.)
CHORUS (singing)
antistrophe
(ANTIGONE is led out of the palace by two Of CREON'S attendants who
are about to conduct her to her doom.)
(The following lines between ANTIGONE and the CHORUS are chanted
responsively.)
ANTIGONE:
CHORUS
ANTIGONE:
CHORUS
ANTIGONE:
CHORUS
ANTIGONE:
CHORUS
ANTIGONE:
(CREON enters from the palace.)
CREON:
ANTIGONE:
I will take her where the path is loneliest, and hide her, living,
in 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.
strophe
Love, unconquered in the fight, Love, who 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.
The just themselves have their minds warped by thee to wrong,
for their ruin: 'tis thou that hast stirred up this present strife
of kinsmen; victorious is the love-kindling 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.
strophe 1
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.
systema 1
Glorious, therefore, and with praise, thou departest to that
deep place of the dead: wasting sickness hath not smitten thee; thou
hast not found the wages of the sword; no, mistress of thine own fate,
and still alive, thou shalt pass to Hades, as no other of mortal
kind hath passed.
antistrophe 1
I have heard in other days how dread a doom befell our Phrygian
guest, the daughter of Tantalus, on the Sipylian heights; I how,
like clinging ivy, the growth of stone subdued her; and the rains fail
not, as men tell, from her wasting form, nor fails the snow, while
beneath her weeping lids the tears bedew her bosom; and most like to
hers is the fate that brings me to my rest.
systema 2
Yet she was a goddess, thou knowest, and born of gods; we are
mortals, and of mortal race. But 'tis great renown for a woman who
hath perished that she should have shared the doom of the godlike,
in her life, and afterward in death.
strophe 2
Ah, I am mocked! In the name of our fathers' gods, can ye not wait
till I am gone,-must ye taunt me to my face, O my city, and ye, her
wealthy sons? Ah, fount of Dirce, and thou holy ground of Thebe
whose chariots are many; ye, at least, will bear me witness, in what
sort, unwept of friends, and by what laws I pass to the rock-closed
prison of my strange tomb, ah me unhappy! who have no home on the
earth or in the shades, no home with the living or with the dead.
strophe 3
Thou hast rushed forward to the utmost verge of daring; and
against that throne where justice sits on high thou hast fallen, my
daughter, with a grievous fall. But in this ordeal thou art paying,
haply, for thy father's sin.
antistrophe 2
Thou hast touched on my bitterest thought,-awaking the ever-new
lament for my sire and for all the doom given to us, the famed house
of Labdacus. Alas for the horrors of the mother's bed! alas for the
wretched mother's slumber at the side of her own son,-and my sire!
From what manner of parents did I take my miserable being! And to them
I go thus, accursed, unwed, to share their home. Alas, my brother,
ill-starred in thy marriage, in thy death thou hast undone my life!
antistrophe 3
Reverent action claims a certain praise for reverence; but an
offence against power cannot be brooked by him who hath power in his
keeping. Thy self-willed temper hath wrought thy ruin.
epode
Unwept, unfriended, without marriage-song, I am led forth in my
sorrow on this journey that can be delayed no more. No longer, hapless
one, may I behold yon day-star's sacred eye; but for my fate no tear
is shed, no friend makes moan.
Know ye not that songs and wailings before death would never
cease, if it profited to utter them? Away with her-away! And when ye
have enclosed her, according to my word, in her vaulted grave, leave
her alone, forlorn-whether she wishes to die, or to live a buried life
in such a home. Our hands are clean as touching this maiden. But
this is certain-she shall be deprived of her sojourn in the light.
Tomb, bridal-chamber, eternal prison in the caverned rock, whither
go to find mine own, those many who have perished, and whom Persephone
hath received among the dead! Last of all shall I pass thither, and
far most miserably of all, before the term of my life is spent. But
I cherish good hope that my coming will be welcome to my father, and
pleasant to thee, my mother, and welcome, brother, to thee; for,
when ye died, with mine own hands I washed and dressed you, and poured
drink-offerings at your graves; and now, Polyneices, 'tis for
tending thy corpse that I win such recompense as this.
And yet I honoured thee, as the wise will deem, rightly. Never,
had been a mother of children, or if a husband had been mouldering
in death, would I have taken this task upon me in the city's
despite. What law, ye ask, is my warrant for that word? The husband
lost, another might have been found, and child from another, to
replace the first-born: but, father and mother hidden with Hades, no
brother's life could ever bloom for me again. Such was the law whereby
I held thee first in honour; but Creon deemed me guilty of error
therein, and of outrage, ah brother mine! And now he leads me thus,
a captive in his hands; no bridal bed, no bridal song hath been
mine, no joy of marriage, no portion in the nurture of children; but
thus, forlorn of friends, unhappy one, I go living to the vaults of
death.
And what law of heaven have I transgressed? Why, hapless one,
should I look to the gods any more,-what ally should I invoke,-when by
piety I have earned the name of impious? Nay, then, if these things
are pleasing to the gods, when I have suffered my doom, I shall come
to know my sin; but if the sin is with my judges, I could wish them no
fuller measure of evil than they, on their part, mete wrongfully to
me.