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?