ANT. O strangers, full of reverent care!
Since ye cannot endure my father here,
Aged and blind,
Because ye have heard a rumour of the deeds
He did unknowingly,--yet, we entreat you.
Strangers, have pity on me, the hapless girl,
Who pray for mine own sire and for none else,
--Pray, looking in your eyes with eyes not blind.
As if a daughter had appeared to you.
Pleading for mercy to the unfortunate.
We are in your hands as in the hand of God,
Helpless. O then accord the unhoped for boon!
By what is dear to thee, thy veriest own,
I pray thee,--chattel or child, or holier name!
Search through the world, thou wilt not find the man
Who could resist the leading of a God.
CH. Daughter of Oedipus, be well assured
We view with pity both thy case and his,
But fear of Heavenly wrath confines our speech
To that we have already said to you.
OED. What profit lives in fame and fair renown
By unsubstantial rumour idly spread?
When Athens is extolled with peerless praise
For reverence, and for mercy!--She alone
The sufferer's shield, the exile's comforter!
What have I reaped hereof? Ye have raised me up
From yonder seat, and now would drive me forth
Fearing a name! For there is nought in me
Or deeds of mine to make you fear. My life
Hath more of wrong endured than of wrong done,
Were it but lawful to disclose to you
Wherefore ye dread me,--not my sin but theirs,
My mother's and my sire's. I know your thought.
Yet never can ye fasten guilt on me,
Who, though I had acted with the clear'st intent,
Were guiltless, for my deed requited wrong.
But as it was, all blindly I went forth
On that dire road, while they who planned my death
Planned it with perfect knowledge. Therefore, sirs,
By Heaven I pray you, as ye have bid me rise,
Protect your suppliant without fail; and do not
In jealous reverence for the blessed Gods
Rob them of truest reverence, but know this:--
God looks upon the righteousness of men
And their unrighteousness, nor ever yet
Hath one escaped who wrought iniquity.
Take part, then, with the Gods, nor overcloud
The golden fame of Athens with dark deeds;
But as ye have pledged your faith to shelter me,
Defend me and rescue, not rejecting me
Through mere abhorrence of my ruined face.
For on a holy mission am I come,
Sent with rich blessings for your neighbours here.
And when the head and sovereign of your folk
Is present, ye shall learn the truth at full.
Till then, be gracious to me, and not perverse.
CH. Thy meaning needs must strike our hearts with awe,
Old wanderer! so weighty are the words
That body it forth. Therefore we are content
The Lord of Athens shall decide this case.
OED. And where is he who rules this country, sirs?
CH. He keeps his father's citadel. But one
Is gone to fetch him, he who brought us hither.
OED. Think you he will consider the blind man,
And come in person here to visit him?
CH. Be sure he will,--when he hath heard thy name.
OED. And who will carry that?
CH. 'Tis a long road;
But rumour from the lips of wayfarers
Flies far and wide, so that he needs must hear;
And hearing, never doubt but he will come.
So noised in every land hath been thy name,
Old sovereign,--were he sunk in drowsiness,
That sound would bring him swiftly to thy side.
OED. Well, may he come to bless his city and me!
When hath not goodness blessed the giver of good?
ANT. O Heavens! What shall I say, what think, my father?
OED. Daughter Antigone, what is it?
ANT. I see
A woman coming toward us, mounted well
On a fair Sicilian palfrey, and her face
With brow-defending hood of Thessaly
Is shadowed from the sun. What must I think?
Is it she or no? Can the eye so far deceive?
It is. 'Tis not. Unhappy that I am,
I know not.--Yes, 'tis she. For drawing near
She greets me with bright glances, and declares
Beyond a doubt, Ismene's self is here.
OED. What say'st thou, daughter?
ANT. That I see thy child,
My sister. Soon her voice will make thee sure.
_Enter_ ISMENE.
ISMENE. Father and sister!--names for ever dear!
Hard hath it been to find you, yea, and hard
I feel it now to look on you for grief.
OED. Child, art thou here?
ISM. Father! O sight of pain!
OED. Offspring and sister!
ISM. Woe for thy dark fate!
OED. Hast thou come, daughter?
ISM. On a troublous way.
OED. Touch me, my child!
ISM. I give a hand to both.
OED. To her and me?
ISM. Three linked in one sad knot.
OED. Child, wherefore art thou come?
ISM. In care for thee.
OED. Because you missed me?
ISM. Ay, and to bring thee tidings,
With the only slave whom I could trust.
OED. And they,
Thy brethren, what of them? Were they not there
To take this journey for their father's good?
ISM. Ask not of them. Dire deeds are theirs to day.
OED. How in all points their life obeys the law
Of Egypt, where the men keep house and weave
Sitting within doors, while the wives abroad
Provide with ceaseless toil the means of life.
So in your case, my daughters, they who should
Have ta'en this burden on them, bide at home
Like maidens, while ye take their place, and lighten
My miseries by your toil. Antigone,
E'er since her childhood ended, and her frame
Was firmly knit, with ceaseless ministry
Still tends upon the old man's wandering,
Oft in the forest ranging up and down
Fasting and barefoot through the burning heat
Or pelting rain, nor thinks, unhappy maid,
Of home or comfort, so her father's need
Be satisfied. And thou, that camest before,
Eluding the Cadmeans, and didst tell me
What words Apollo had pronounced on me.
And when they banished me, stood'st firm to shield me,
What news, Ismene, bring'st thou to thy sire
To day? What mission sped thee forth? I know
Thou com'st not idly, but with fears for me.
ISM. Father, I will not say what I endured
In searching out the place that sheltered thee.
To tell it o'er would but renew the pain.
But of the danger now encompassing
Thine ill starred sons,--of that I came to speak.
At first they strove with Creon and declared
The throne should be left vacant and the town
Freed from pollution,--paying deep regard
In their debate to the dark heritage
Of ruin that o'ershadowed all thy race.
Far different is the strife which holds them now,
Since some great Power, joined to their sinful mind,
Incites them both to seize on sovereign sway.
Eteocles, in pride of younger years,
Robbed elder Polynices of his right,
Dethroned and banished him. To Argos then
Goes exiled Polynices, and obtains
Through intermarriage a strong favouring league,
Whose word is, 'Either Argos vanquishes
The seed of Cadmus or exalts their fame'
This, father, is no tissue of empty talk,
But dreadful truth, nor can I tell where Heaven
Is to reveal his mercy to thy woe.
OED. And hadst thou ever hoped the Gods would care
For mine affliction, and restore my life?
ISM. I hope it now since this last oracle.
OED. What oracle hath been declared, my child?
ISM. That they shall seek thee forth, alive or dead,
To bring salvation to the Theban race.
OED. Who can win safety through such help as mine?
ISM. 'Tis said their victory depends on thee.
OED. When shrunk to nothing, am I indeed a man?
ISM. Yea, for the Gods uphold thee, who then destroyed.
OED. Poor work, to uphold in age who falls when young!
ISM. Know howsoe'er that Creon will be here
For this same end, ere many an hour be spent.
OED. For what end, daughter? Tell me in plain speech.
ISM. To set thee near their land, that thou may'st be
Beyond their borders, but within their power.
OED. What good am I, thus lying at their gate?
ISM. Thine inauspicious burial brings them woe.
OED. There needs no oracle to tell one that.
ISM. And therefore they would place thee near their land,
Where thou may'st have no power upon thyself.
OED. Say then, shall Theban dust o'ershadow me?
ISM. The blood of kindred cleaving to thy hand,
Father, forbids thee.
OED. Never, then, henceforth,
Shall they lay hold on me!
ISM. If that be true,
The brood of Cadmus shall have bale.
OED. What cause
Having appeared, will bring this doom to pass?
ISM. Thy wrath, when they are marshalled at thy tomb.
OED. From whom hast thou heard this?
ISM. Sworn messengers
Brought such report from Delphi's holy shrine.
OED. Hath Phoebus so pronounced my destiny?
ISM. So they declare who brought the answer back.
OED. Did my sons hear?
ISM. They know it, both of them.
OED. Villains, who, being informed of such a word,
Turned not their thoughts toward me, but rather chose
Ambition and a throne!
ISM. It wounds mine ear
To hear it spoken, but the news I bring
Is to that stern effect.
OED. Then I pray Heaven
The fury of their fate-appointed strife
May ne'er be quenched, but that the end may come
According to my wish upon them twain
To this contention and arbitrament
Of battle which they now assay and lift
The threatening spear! So neither he who wields
The sceptred power should keep possession still,
Nor should his brother out of banishment
Ever return:--who, when their sire--when I
Was shamefully thrust from my native land,
Checked not my fall nor saved me, but, for them,
I was driven homeless and proclaimed an exile.
Ye will tell me 'twas in reason that the State
Granted this boon to my express desire.
Nay; for in those first hours of agony,
When my heart raged, and it seemed sweetest to me
To die the death, and to be stoned with stones,
No help appeared to yield me that relief.
But after lapse of days, when all my pain
Was softened, and I felt that my hot spirit
Had run to fierce excess of bitterness
In wreaking mine offence--then, then the State
Drove me for ever from the land, and they,
Their father's sons, who might have saved their father,
Cared not to help him, but betrayed by them,
For lack of one light word, I wandered forth
To homeless banishment and beggary.
But these weak maidens to their nature's power
Have striven to furnish me with means to live
And dwell securely, girded round with love.
My sons have chosen before their father's life
A lordly throne and sceptred sovereignty.
But never shall they win me to their aid,
Nor shall the Theban throne for which they strive
Bring them desired content. That well I know,
Comparing with my daughter's prophecies
Those ancient oracles which Phoebus once
Spake in mine ear. Then let them send to seek me
Creon, or who is strongest in their State.
For if ye, strangers, will but add your might
To the protection of these awful Powers,
The guardians of your soil, to shelter me,
Ye shall acquire for this your State a saviour
Mighty to save, and ye shall vex my foes.
CH. Thou art worthy of all compassion, Oedipus,
Thyself and these thy daughters. Now, moreover
Since thou proclaim'st thyself our country's saviour
I would advise thee for the best.
OED. Kind sir,
Be my good guide. I will do all thou biddest.
CH. Propitiate then these holy powers, whose grove
Received thee when first treading this their ground.
OED. What are the appointed forms? Advise me, sirs.
CH. First see to it that from some perennial fount
Clean hands provide a pure drink-offering.
OED. And when I have gotten this unpolluted draught?
CH. You will find bowls, formed by a skilful hand,
Whose brims and handles you must duly wreathe.
OED. With leaves or flocks of wool, or in what way?
CH. With tender wool ta'en from a young ewe-lamb.
OED. Well, and what follows to complete the rite?
CH. Next, make libation toward the earliest dawn.
OED. Mean'st thou from those same urns whereof thou speakest?
CH. From those three vessels pour three several streams,
Filling the last to the brim.
OED. With what contents
Must this be filled? Instruct me.
CH. Not with wine,
But water and the treasure of the bee.
OED. And when leaf-shadowed Earth has drunk of this,
What follows?
CH. Thou shalt lay upon her then
From both thy hands a row of olive-twigs--
Counting thrice nine in all--and add this prayer--
OED. That is the chief thing,--that I long to hear.
CH. As we have named them Gentle, so may they
From gentle hearts accord their suppliant aid;--
Be this thy prayer, or whoso prays for thee,
Spoken not aloud, but so that none may hear;
And in departing, turn not. This being done,
I can stand by thee without dread. But else,
I needs must fear concerning thee.
OED. My daughters,
Have ye both heard our friends who inhabit here?
ANT. Yea, father; and we wait for thy command.
OED. I cannot go. Two losses hinder me,
Two evils, want of strength and want of sight.
Let one of you go and perform this service.
One soul, methinks, in paying such a debt
May quit a million, if the heart be pure.
Haste, then, to do it. Only leave me not
Untended. For I cannot move alone
Nor without some one to support me and guide.
ISM. I will be ministrant. But let me know
Where I must find the place of offering.
CH. Beyond this grove. And, stranger maid, if aught
Seem wanting, there is one at hand to show it.
ISM. Then to my task. Meantime, Antigone,
Watch by our sire. We must not make account
Of labour that supplies a parent's need. [_Exit_
CH. Thy long since slumbering woe I would not wake again, I 1
But yet I long to learn.
OED. What hidden lore?
CH. The pain
That sprang against thy life with spirit-mastering force.
OED. Ah, sirs, as ye are kind, re-open not that source
Of unavoided shame.
CH. Friend, we would hear the tale
Told truly, whose wide voice doth hourly more prevail.
OED. Misery!
CH. Be not loth!
OED. O bitterness!
CH. Consent.
For all thou didst require we gave to thy content.
OED. Oh, strangers, I have borne an all-too-willing brand, I 2
Yet not of mine own choice.
CH. Whence? We would understand.
OED. Nought knowing of the curse she fastened on my head
Thebè in evil bands bound me.
CH. Thy mother's bed,
Say, didst thou fill? mine ear still echoes to the noise.
OED. 'Tis death to me to hear, but, these, mine only joys,
Friends, are my curse.
CH. O Heaven!
OED. The travail of one womb
Hath gendered all you see, one mother, one dark doom.