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ANTIGONE page 11

by Sophocles 441 BC.

translated by R. C. Jebb

TEIRESIAS:
Thou wilt learn, when thou hearest the warnings of mine art. As I took my place on mine old seat of augury, where all birds have been wont to gather within my ken, I heard a strange voice among them; they were screaming with dire, feverish rage, that drowned their language in jargon; and I knew that they were rending each other with their talons, murderously; the whirr of wings told no doubtful tale.
Forthwith, in fear, I essayed burnt-sacrifice on a duly kindled altar: but from my offerings the Fire-god showed no flame; a dank moisture, oozing from the thigh-flesh, trickled forth upon the embers, and smoked, and sputtered; the gall was scattered to the air; and the streaming thighs lay bared of the fat that had been wrapped round them.
Such was the failure of the rites by which I vainly asked a sign, as from this boy I learned; for he is my guide, as I am guide to others. And 'tis thy counsel that hath brought this sickness on our State. For the altars of our city and of our hearths have been tainted, one and all, by birds and dogs, with carrion from the hapless corpse, the son of Oedipus: and therefore the gods no more accept prayer and sacrifice at our hands, or the flame of meat-offering; nor doth any bird give a clear sign by its shrill cry, for they have tasted the fatness of a slain man's blood.
Think, then, on these things, my son. All men are liable to err; but when an error hath been made, that man is no longer witless or unblest who heals the ill into which he hath fallen, and remains not stubborn.
Self-will, we know, incurs the charge of folly. Nay, allow the claim of the dead; stab not the fallen; what prowess is it to slay the slain anew? I have sought thy good, and for thy good I speak: and never is it sweeter to learn from a good counsellor than when he counsels for thine own gain.

CREON:
Old man, ye all shoot your shafts at me, as archers at the butts;-Ye must needs practise on me with seer-craft also;-aye, the seer-tribe hath long trafficked in me, and made me their merchandise. Gain your gains, drive your trade, if ye list, in the silver-gold of Sardis and the gold of India; but ye shall not hide that man in the grave,-no, though the eagles of Zeus should bear the carrion morsels to their Master's throne-no, not for dread of that defilement will I suffer his burial:-for well I know that no mortal can defile the gods.-But, aged Teiresias, the wisest fall with shameful fall, when they clothe shameful thoughts in fair words, for lucre's sake.

TEIRESIAS :
Alas! Doth any man know, doth any consider...

CREON :
Whereof? What general truth dost thou announce?

TEIRESIAS:
How precious, above all wealth, is good counsel.

CREON:
As folly, I think, is the worst mischief.

TEIRESIAS:
Yet thou art tainted with that distemper.

CREON:
I would not answer the seer with a taunt.

TEIRESIAS:
But thou dost, in saying that I prophesy falsely.

CREON:
Well, the prophet-tribe was ever fond of money.

TEIRESIAS:
And the race bred of tyrants loves base gain.

CREON:
Knowest thou that thy speech is spoken of thy king?

TEIRESIAS:
I know it; for through me thou hast saved Thebes.

CREON:
Thou art a wise seer; but thou lovest evil deeds.

TEIRESIAS:
Thou wilt rouse me to utter the dread secret in my soul.

CREON:
Out with it!-Only speak it not for gain.

TEIRESIAS:
Indeed, methinks, I shall not,-as touching thee.

CREON:
Know that thou shalt not trade on my resolve.