Thou the garden here dost see,
White Colonus, in whose glade,
Underneath the greenwood shade,
Her loved haunt, the nightingale
Poureth oft her luscious wail.
Glossy-dark the ivy creeps;
Flourishes along the steeps
With berries store, scorched by no ray,
Rent by no storm, the sacred bay.
Here loves the jolly god to rove
With merry nymphs that round him move.
Here many a flower, heaven-watered, blows,
Worthy to bind immortal brows.
Narcissus waves its clusters gay,
And crocus gleams with golden ray.
Nor do the springs that feed thy flow,
Cephisus, intermission know:
Day after day their crystal stream
Makes the rich loam with plenty teem.
Nor do the muses keep afar,
Nor Aphrodite's golden car.
Here grows, what neither Asia's coast
Nor Pelops' Dorian Isle can boast,
The tree that Nature's bounty rears,
The tree that mocks the foeman's spears,
That nowhere blooms so fair and free
And rich--our own grey olive tree,
Of which no chieftain, old or young,
Shall rob the land from which it sprung.
Blue-eyed Athene is its guard,
And Morian Zeus its sleepless ward.
And loftier still the note of praise
That by the grace of heaven we raise
To this our motherland, for she
Is Queen of steeds, Queen of the sea.
Poseidon, son of Saturn, thou
Didst set this crown upon her brow,
When first upon Athenian course
Thou taughtst to curb the fiery horse.
The dashing oar our seamen ply,
Light o'er the wave our galleys fly,
Keeping the sea-nymphs company.
* * * * *
_LENGTH OF DAYS_.
LINES 1211-1238.
CHORUS.
Little wisdom hath the man
That would over-live his span.
Length of days brings many a moan
When life's prime is past and gone;
But of pleasures, never a one.
Then all alike from dole to save,
Comes the dark and cheerless grave.
Not to be is happiest;
Next with speed to part is best.
Bloodshed, battle, hatred, strife,
Youth with all these ills is rife.
Then comes the last, the dreariest stage,
Sour, companionless old age.
* * * * *
_THE END OF OEDIPUS_.
LINES 1579-1667.
MESSENGER. (_To the_ CHORUS.)
Brief is the speech, my fellow-citizens,
Needed to tell that Oedipus is dead;
But a brief speech will not suffice to give
A full account of all that there befell.
CHORUS.
His life of sorrow then has found its end.
MESSENGER.
He is where he will never sorrow more.
CHORUS.
Died he by act of heaven and painlessly?
MESSENGER.
Herein consists the wonder of my tale.
When from this place he went, as thou didst see,
No longer guided by a friendly hand,
But himself acting as the guide of all,
Having arrived at the descending stair,
With brazen steps fast rooted in the earth,
He halted upon one of many paths,
Hard by the basin wherein treasured lie
Pledges of Theseus and Pirithous.
Midway from this to the Thorician rock,
The hollow pear-tree and the marble tomb,
He took his seat and disarrayed himself
Of his soiled weeds; then to his daughters called
Water to bring that he might cleanse himself.
They to a knoll that rose above the fane
Of boon Demeter, hastening, did with speed
That which their sire commanded,--bathed his limbs,
And in new garments seemly him arrayed.
When thus his heart's desire had been fulfilled,
And none of his behests remained undone,
Thunder beneath the earth was heard, whereat
The maidens quaked, and on their father's knees
They laid them down and wept, nor ceased to beat
Their breasts and to pour forth the long-drawn wail.
He, hearing all at once their bitter cry,
Folded his hands over their heads, and said,
"Daughters, this day your father is no more,
For now my course is ended and your life
Of travel sore in tending me is done.
Hard was that life, my daughters, well I know,
And yet a single word makes up for all.
Love did ye never meet at any hand
Greater than his, of whom henceforth bereft,
Ye must drag out whate'er remains of life."
Thus folded each in other's last embrace,
They sobbed and wailed. When they at last had done
Their weeping and their cry arose no more,
A silence followed; all at once a voice
Called him, and made the hair of each of us
That heard it stand on end with sudden fear.
Repeatedly it called, that mystic voice,
"Oedipus, linger thou no more," it said,
"Thine hour is come; too long is thy delay."
He, hearing the celestial summons, called
For our King Theseus to draw near to him;
And when the King drew near, he said, "Dear Prince,
Pledge to my daughters troth by your right hand,
As they will pledge their troth to thee, and swear
That thou wilt not desert them, but whate'er
Thou mayst do thou wilt do it for their good."
Theseus, with noble soul, calm and unmoved,
Swore to fulfil his stranger friend's request.
Which being ended, straightway Oedipus,
With his blind hands touching his daughters, said,
"Children, ye now must bear up gallantly
And from this spot depart, nor seek to see
Or hear that which may not be seen or heard.
Tarry no longer; what is now to come
Theseus alone may lawfully behold."
These words of his all that were present heard.
So we departed, and with streaming eyes
Walked by the maidens. Having gone some way
We turned, looked back, and saw that Oedipus
Had vanished, nor did trace of him appear,
While the King stood alone, holding his hand
Before his eyes as though some awful form,
Some overpowering vision had appeared.
And no long time had passed, when he was seen
Falling upon his knees and worshipping
At once the Earth and all the Olympian gods.
But in what way Oedipus left this life
Theseus alone of human kind can tell.
There flashed from heaven no lightning in that hour
To strike him dead; there came not from the sea
A tempest with its blast to sweep him off.
Some envoy from the gods was sent to him,
Or opening earth engulfed him painlessly.
The old man died without disease or pang
To make us grieve for him; by miracle,
If ever man so died. Thinkst thou I dream?
I know not how to show thee that I wake.
ANTIGONE.
Eteocles and Polynices, the unnatural brothers, having fallen by each
other's hands, Creon is King of Thebes. To Eteocles, who had died in
defence of the city, he awards honourable burial; Polynices, who had
fallen in attacking the city, he dooms to lie unburied, a great
dishonour and calamity in Hellenic opinion. Antigone resolves to
disregard the ordinance, and pay the funeral rites to her brother
Polynices. The conflict between the law of the State and the divine
law which Antigone obeys is the moral key-note of the play. Ismene is
Antigone's weaker sister and serves as a foil to her. Antigone is
betrothed to Haemon, a son of Creon.
* * * * *
_THE TWO SISTERS_.
LINES 1-99.
ANTIGONE.
Ismene, sister mine in blood and heart,
All woes that had their source in Oedipus
Zeus will bring on us yet before we die.
Nothing there is disastrous or accursed,
No blot of shame, no brand of infamy,
Which in our list of ills I reckon not.
What is this proclamation that I hear
The general has put forth to all the host?
Say, canst thou tell, or art thou ignorant
That those we hate are threat'ning those we love?
ISMENE.
To me, Antigone, no word has come
Either of joyful tidings or of bad
Since we of our two brothers were bereft,
Slain in one day, each by the other's hand.
Last night the Argive army marched away;
This much I know, and I know nothing more
To add to or abate our misery.
ANTIGONE.
Of that I was assured, and called thee forth
Before the gate to speak to thee apart.
ISMENE.
What is it? Something ferments in thy soul.
ANTIGONE.
Creon to one of our two brothers grants,
But to the other he denies, a grave.
Eteocles, as they tell me, he has laid
With all due form and reverence in the tomb,
There to be ranked among the honoured dead.
But Polynices' miserable corpse,
It seems, by strict injunction he forbids
All citizens to bury or to mourn;
Ordering that it be left without a grave,
Unwailed, a welcome prey to ravening birds.
This proclamation Creon, worthy man--
Look thou, look both of us alike--puts forth.
'Tis said he hither comes to publish it,
To all who know it not, nor deems the thing
Of small concern; for whoso disobeys
His penalty is to be stoned to death.
So stands the matter; it will now be seen
Whether thy soul is worthy of thy race.
ISMENE.
How, daring maid, can I in such a case,
Whether to loose or bind, assistance lend?
ANTIGONE.
Wilt thou take part and aid me? Ponder well.
ISMENE.
In what adventure? What is in thy mind?
ANTIGONE.
Will thy arm help me to uplift the corpse?
ISMENE.
How! Wouldst thou brave the law and bury him?
ANTIGONE.
Bury thy brother and mine own I would.
Do as thou wilt, my duty shall not fail.
ISMENE.
In face of Creon's edict? Art thou mad?
ANTIGONE.
Has he the right to part me from mine own?
ISMENE.
Sister, alack! think how our father fell,
O'erwhelmed with hatred and with infamy
Through sins which his own act had brought to light,
His eyes bereft of sight by his own hand;
How she that was his wife and mother too
Perished, self-strangled with a twisted cord,
And lastly our two brothers in one day
With fratricidal hands most ruefully
Upon each other brought a common doom.
Now only we are left, and worst of all
Our fate will be, if, in contempt of law,
Our ruler's will and order we defy.
Think first that we are women, and too weak
Battle to do against the strength of men;
And next, that we are subject unto power,
And must in harder things than this obey.
For my share then, I will entreat the dead
To pardon what I do unwillingly,
And bow to the command of those in power.
High vaulting virtue overleaps itself.
ANTIGONE.
I urge thee not; nay, didst thou wish to aid,
My heart would not accept thy partnership.
Hold to thy own opinion; him I mean
To bury; death were honour in that cause.
I in the tomb shall lie with those I love,
A glorious criminal. Longer will last
The praise of those below than those above.
There I shall ever dwell. Then, if thou wilt,
Treat as of no account the claim of heaven.
ISMENE.
I lack not piety, but lack the force
To fly in face of public ordinance.
ANTIGONE.
Cling to thy specious pretext while I go
To heap the earth upon a brother's grave.
ISMENE.
Too daring sister, how I quake for thee.
ANTIGONE.
Quake not for me, steer thine own course aright.
ISMENE.
At least disclose to none this thy design;
I too will keep it locked within my breast.
ANTIGONE.
Avaunt! reveal it! I shall hate thee more
If thou dost not proclaim it to the world.
ISMENE.
Hot is thy blood, but chill thy enterprise.
ANTIGONE.
I shall please those whom I am bound to please.
ISMENE.
Hadst thou the power, but desperate is thy aim.
ANTIGONE.
When my power fails I have but to desist.
ISMENE.
Where we must fail, not to attempt is wise.
ANTIGONE.
Such talk will make thee hateful unto me,
And by the dead man righteously abhorred.
Then leave me with my folly to endure
This dreadful penalty. Come what come may,
Nothing will rob me of a noble death.
ISMENE.
Art thou resolved? Go, then, and be assured
That though misguided thou art well beloved.
* * * * *
_SISTERLY LOVE DEFIES THE LAW_.
Antigone is caught by the guard paying funeral rites to the corpse of
Polynices, and is brought before Creon.
LINES 384-581.
GUARD.
Behold the guilty one, caught in the act
Of burial. Where is Creon to be found?
CHORUS.
Hither he comes returning from the house.
CREON (_entering_).
What makes my presence here so opportune?
GUARD.
My prince, let mortal man nothing forswear,
For resolution yields to afterthought.
Little I looked hither to come again,
So pelted with the hailstorm of thy threats.
But the good fortune that surpasses hope
Is of all pleasant things the pleasantest;
And so I come in spite of all my oaths,
And bring with me this maiden, who was caught
Decking the grave. This time no lot was cast;
The prize is mine of right, and mine alone.
And now, my prince, take and examine her
Thyself, as seems thee good. I claim my due,
From all these troubles to be let go free.
CREON.
Where, in what manner, was your prisoner found?
GUARD.
'Twas she that gave him burial; all is told.
CREON.
Art thou assured of that thou dost report?
GUARD.
I saw this maiden burying the corpse
Which thou forbad'st to bury. Is that plain?
CREON.
By whom was she espied, and how entrapped?
GUARD.
Thus did it happen: When we reached our post,
Confounded by thy dreadful menaces,
We swept away with care each particle
Of dust, and having laid the carcase bare,
Then sat us down beneath the sheltering slope
Of a hillside, where we escaped the stench,
Each stirring up his fellow to the task,
And cursing him who should be slack in it.
So went we on until the sun's bright orb
Had reached the mid-arch of the firmament,
And its full heat was felt, when suddenly
A whirlwind, raising swirls of dust heaven-high,
Swept o'er the plain, stripping the wood of leaves,
Wherewith it filled the air. We with closed eyes
And lips sat bowing to the wrath of heaven.
When this had passed away, after some time,
Appeared this maiden, uttering piercing wails;
Like to the plaintive notes of a lorn bird,
That finds her nest robbed of its callow brood,
Her wailings were, when she beheld the corpse
Once more uncovered; and right bitterly
Cursed she the man whose hand had done the deed.
Straightway a handful of dry dust she brings,
Then thrice uplifting high a brazen urn,
Pours a three-fold libation on the corpse.
We at the sight, start up and quickly seize
The maiden, who was not a whit dismayed.
We charged her with what she before had done,
And what was doing. Nor denied she aught,
But made me feel sorrow and joy at once.
Oneself to have escaped calamity
Is cause for joy; to bring a friend to harm
Fills one with sorrow. But in my account
Of all things mine own safety is the first.
CREON.
(_To_ ANTIGONE.)
Thou, that dost stand with eyes bent on the ground,
Dost thou plead guilty or deny the fact?
ANTIGONE.
Deny I do not, but avow my deed.
CREON.
(_To the_ GUARD.)
Thou standst acquitted of a heinous charge,
And mayest betake thee hence whither thou wilt.
(_To_ ANTIGONE.)
But thou, answer, and briefly, didst thou know
The proclamation made against this act?
ANTIGONE.
I did; how should I not? The words were plain.
CREON.
Yet didst thou dare to violate the law?
ANTIGONE.
The proclamation went not forth from Zeus,
Or Justice, partner of the gods below,
Who had ordained these canons for mankind;
Nor deemed I proclamations had such power
That thereby mortal man could contravene
Heaven's law unwritten and unchangeable.
That law was not the child of yesterday,
Nor knoweth man the source from which it came.
I was not minded for what men might say
To break that law and brave the wrath divine.
That death would come I know, as come it must
Without thy proclamation, and to die
Before my hour I count it so much gain.
For when a life is full of wretchedness
As mine has been, is it not gain to die?
Little I care if I such doom must meet;
But I care much not uninterred to leave
His corpse that was of the same mother born.
One pains me sore, the other pains me not;
And if to thee I seem to play the fool
To me it seems that to a fool I play it.
CHORUS.
She shows the savage spirit of her sire,
And to misfortune is untaught to bend.
CREON.
Know that the most self-willed most often fall.
Iron that hath been tempered by the fire
To a surpassing hardness, when it breaks,
We often see shattered most thoroughly;
And a small bit suffices to subdue
The fiery steed. High thoughts beseem not those
Who owe subjection to another's will.
This maid before displayed her insolence
In overstepping what the laws ordained;
And now again displays it, glorying
And laughing in our face over her crime.
It is not I that am the man, but she
If she can thus usurp and go unscathed.
Be she my sister's child or child of one
Nearer in blood than all around our hearth,
She shall not the last penalty escape,
Nor shall her sister. For she, too, I hold,
Conspired to bring about this burial.
Summon her hither. Just now in the house
I saw her raving like a maid possessed.
When wickedness is gendered in the dark
The heart is apt its secret to betray.
But not less hateful is the shamelessness
Which, of foul acts convicted, calls them fair.
ANTIGONE.
To lead me to my death, is that enough?
CREON.
It is enough. This done, I ask no more.
ANTIGONE.
Then why delay, when of thy words to me
Not one gives pleasure or will ever give?
Nor are mine less displeasing unto thee.
And yet what greater glory could be mine,
Than, burying my own brother, I have won?
Well know I, all here present would applaud
But that their tongues by fear of thee are tied.
Sovereigns in many things are fortunate,
And they alone are free in act and speech.
CREON.
So thinkest thou; of other Thebans, none.
ANTIGONE.
So think they too, but they must cringe to thee.
CREON.
Art not ashamed to brave the public voice?
ANTIGONE.
It is no shame to pay our kin their due.
CREON.
Was not he kin that fell upon our side?
ANTIGONE.
His father and his mother both were mine.
CREON.
How then do service which offends his shade?
ANTIGONE.
The dead man will not second thy complaint.
CREON.
He will if he is levell'd with the vile.
ANTIGONE.
It was a brother, not a slave, that fell.
CREON.
Assailing what the other died to save.
ANTIGONE.
The powers below ask these observances.
CREON.
The good ask not like treatment with the bad.
ANTIGONE.
Who knows but this may be deemed right below?
CREON.
Hatred expires not when the hated dies.
ANTIGONE.
Not hate but love to share my nature is.
CREON.
Go, then, below and love, if love thou wilt,
But while I live no woman shall reign here.
CHORUS.
(ISMENE _entering_)
Ismene, lo! before the gate appears,
A sister's grief o'erflowing in her tears;
The cloud of sorrow gathered on her face
Bedews her roseate cheek and mars its grace.
CREON.
(_To_ ISMENE.)
And thou, too, in my home a lurking snake?
Didst drain my heart's blood, while I little thought
That I was cherishing two traitress fiends?
Wast thou a party to this burial,
Or wilt thou swear that thou art innocent?
ISMENE.
I did take part, if she will say I did,
And am content to bear my share of blame.
ANTIGONE.
That equity forbids; neither wert thou
Willing to act, nor I to act with thee.
ISMENE.
Yet would I not refuse mid thy distress,
Sister, to sail in the same barque with thee.
ANTIGONE.
Whose was the deed, the dead and Hades know.
I love not one whose friendship ends in words.
ISMENE.
Sister, deny me not the privilege
Of sharing both thy piety and death.
ANTIGONE.
Share not my death, nor claim the work in which
Thou hadst no hand; that I die is enough.
ISMENE.
What can life be to me, bereft of thee?
ANTIGONE.
Ask Creon, he is nearest thee in love.
ISMENE.
Why dost thou gird at me thus fruitlessly?
ANTIGONE.
My laugh is bitter when I laugh at thee.
ISMENE.
What can I do to aid thee even now?
ANTIGONE.
What, save thyself! I grudge not thy escape.
ISMENE.
Alack! and must I let thee die alone?
ANTIGONE.
Yes; for thy choice was life, and mine was death.
ISMENE.
But not unspoken was my mind to thee.
ANTIGONE.
Thy course was here approved, but mine below.
ISMENE.
Yet was the fault of both of us the same.
ANTIGONE.
Be of good cheer, thou livest; but my soul
Is with the dead, to whom my care is due.
CREON.
Of these two sisters, one, it seems to me,
Has lost her wits, and one was witless born.
ISMENE.
O Prince, the reason that is born in us
Abides not in the wretched, but departs.
CREON.
From thee it fled when thou didst share her crime.
ISMENE.
Without this maiden what can life be worth?
CREON.
Say not "this maiden," for she is no more.
ISMENE.
Wilt thou slay her that is thy son's betrothed?
CREON.
We shall find other fields enough to plough,
ISMENE.
Thou wilt not find such unison of hearts.
CREON.
I do not want a bad wife for my son.
ANTIGONE.
Dear Haemon, how thy father slights thy love.
CREON.
Thou and thy marriage are a weariness.
ISMENE.
Wilt thou bereave thy child of his betrothed?
CREON.
Hades it is that shall these nuptials bar.
ISMENE.
It is resolved, it seems, that she shall die.
CREON.
There I agree with thee. No more delay.
Slaves, take her in, and henceforth let these maids
Be women, and no more be left at large.
The stoutest hearts are apt to think of flight,
When they perceive that death is drawing near.
* * * * *
_THE CONTEST BETWEEN LOVE AND FILIAL DUTY._
LINES 631-780.
CREON.
Soon shall we know, my son, past prophecy
Whether, apprised of that our fixed decree,
Thou com'st in wrath upon thy bride's account
Or all we do is pleasing unto thee.
HAEMON.
My father, I am thine; thy wisdom guides
My steps aright and I will follow it;
No marriage can be dearer to my heart
Than is the blessing of thy governance.
CREON.
Be this, my son, implanted in thy breast,
Still to thy father's judgment to defer.
This is the reason for which men desire
To rear obedient offspring in their homes,
Who may confront their father's enemy,
And with him render service to his friends.
The father of unprofitable sons--
What does he else but for himself beget
Trouble and exultation for his foes?
Never, my Haemon, for a woman's love
Let go thy better judgment. Thou must know
That cold and comfortless is the embrace
Of a bad partner in the marriage bed.
What sore is worse than ill-requited love?
Then cast away this maiden from thy heart,
And let her nuptial bower in Hades be,
Since I have openly convicted her
Of breaking law, by all beside obeyed.
My public act I will not falsify,
The maid shall die; howe'er she may descant
On sacred kinship. If at home I give
Disorder license, where will order reign?
Whoever governs his own house aright
Will be a worthy member of the State.
The bold transgressor that defies the law,
Or thinks to override authority,
Need look for no encouragement from me
The lawful ruler's word must be obeyed,
Just or unjust, in great things and in small.
Who does this, I will warrant him a man
Fit to command alike and to obey,
And one who in the battle's storm will stand
Bravely and staunchly at his comrade's side.
There is no greater curse than anarchy;
It works the overthrow of commonwealths,
Lays homes in ruin, in the battle-field
Puts armies to the rout, while victory
And safety are the meed of discipline.
So must we stand by that which is decreed,
And not to an usurping woman yield.
Fall if we must, a man shall deal the blow:
'Twere shame to think a woman vanquished us.
CHORUS.
If age our judgment dims not, thou hast dealt
Rightly with all things which thy speech concerns.
HAEMON.
Father, the favour of the gods bestows
Wisdom, most precious of all precious gifts.
That thou hast not the right upon thy side
I cannot, if I could I would not, show.
Yet may another's argument be fair.
Nature hath set me to keep watch for thee
Over the words, acts, censures of the world.
The common man, awed by thy presence, shrinks
From uttering what he knows will please thee not.
I hear beneath the cloud of secrecy
How the whole city for this maiden mourns.
She, who the least deserves it, dies, they say,
A cruel death for a most noble deed,
The rescue of her brother's mangled corpse
From being left unburied on the field,
A prey to ravening dogs and carrion birds.
Has she not merited a crown of gold?
Such murmurs darkling spread among the crowd.
Father, I hold no treasure half so dear
As thy well-being; greater joy or pride
Is none than sons have in an honoured sire,
Or than a sire has in an honoured son.
Keep not one changeless temper in thy breast,
Nor fancy that thou art infallible.
Whoever dreams that he alone is wise,
Or is in speech or spirit singular,
Will, when unmasked, betray his emptiness.
Wise though a man may be, it is no shame
To have an open mind and flexible.
Thou seest by the winter torrent's side
The trees that bend go with their limbs unscathed,
While those that bend not perish root and branch.
And so the sailor who keeps taut the sheet,
And stiffly battles with the tempest's force,
Is apt thenceforth to float keel uppermost.
Bend, then, and give thy spirit room to change.
If from the lips of a young counsellor
Wisdom can come, I say it were far best
If we could all be born omniscient,
But as omniscience is not given to man,
'Tis well to good advisers to give ear.
CHORUS.
Prince, it beseems ye both, if either says
Aught apt, to listen; both have argued well.
CREON.
And shall our hoary hairs be put to school,
And shall we take instruction from this boy?
HAEMON.
In naught that is not right. Young as I am,
Thou shouldst my reasons weigh, not count my years.
CREON.
Does reason bid thee second anarchy?
HAEMON.
I would not ask e'en justice for the bad.
CREON.
Is not yon maiden sick of that disease?
HAEMON.
Not so avers the common voice of Thebes.
CREON.
Shall I my duty from the commons learn?
HAEMON.
Seest thou how youthful is that sentiment?
CREON.
Am I to govern by another's will?
HAEMON.
That is no state which owns one man for lord.
CREON.
Is not the state the ruler's property?
HAEMON.
Thou wouldst reign well over a desert land.
CREON.
The boy, it seems, will fight for yonder maid.