For reverencing the dues of piety.”[[24]]
Beside the perverse authority of Creon, her integrity rises unassailable. So Antigone passes, in light at the last.
It would take too long to tell of the punishment which befell Creon, which is nevertheless a vital part of Sophocles’s Antigone. It was swift and crushing. No sooner had the princess been led to her rocky tomb than the seer Tiresias demanded an audience of the king. He had come with solemn warnings from the gods, first because the body of Polynices, the burial of which Antigone had not been allowed to complete, was polluting the city; and secondly because his shameful cruelty to the princess had given the gods offence. Let Creon go at once and rescue Antigone from her living tomb; and let him pay the needful honours to the dead. But if he will not instantly make this just amend, the divine power will surely exact from him the payment of a life for the life that he has taken.
Creon has no recourse to authority now; and he makes but a feeble resistance. Misguided and over-zealous hitherto, he is no sooner convinced of his error by the Prophet than he makes a strenuous effort to put it right. He is shaken by fear, too: and declares that he cannot fight with destiny. So he goes to perform the will of the gods; and on his action now the whole force of the tragedy hangs. The gods had commanded—Release Antigone first, and then bury the body. But Creon in his perturbation had not paid good heed. True to his nature, he turns to the official duty first, the burial that is to remove pollution from the city. Characteristically, too, he stays to perform the rites with the utmost amplitude. Not until a mound has been heaped upon Polynices does he proceed to the cave to release Antigone. Then he is too late. Antigone has hanged herself from the rocky roof, and Hæmon is clinging about her feet in agony. As Creon appears, the youth springs up with intent to kill him; but missing his aim, he turns the sword against himself and dies by Antigone’s side.
So the gods exacted a life for a life; but the punishment was not yet complete. When Creon, broken with grief, came carrying his dead son into the palace, he found that the tragic news had been before him. Eurydice his wife had slain herself.
Creon. Take me away, the vain-proud man who slew
Thee, O my son, and thee!
Me miserable! Which way shall I turn?
Which look upon? Since all that I can touch
Is falling, falling, round me, and o’erhead
Intolerable destiny descends.[[24]]
[23]. From Professor Gilbert Murray’s translation of the Œdipus Tyrannus (George Allen & Co., Ltd.).
[24]. From Professor Lewis Campbell’s translation of the Antigone (Clarendon Press).