CHORUS
The words of this chorus are translated here by the author from the Second Chorus of Sophocles’ play “Antigone.”
Many are the wonders of time, but the mightiest wonder is man; Man! for he maketh his path with the south wind, over the surges Down where the storm-white billows Loom to devour him: Yea, And Earth, the immortal, the oldest of gods, The untoilsome, he tameth with toiling horses Dark where his turning ploughshare Plougheth from age unto age.
Birds, O the wild-hearted birds, and the breeds of the savage wood Deep in his woven nets he hath snared, and the broods of the bright sea Leadeth he likewise captive— Master of masters, Man! And high on the hills he hath tracked to her wild The shaggy-maned horse and yoked her in harness; Tireless, too, hath his spirit Tamed the wild mountain bull.
Words, and the wind of great thought, and the mood that mouldeth a state, These hath he mastered, and knoweth to parry the white frost arrow’s Pitiless barb, and the pouring Arrows of purple rain. All, all hath he mastered, and all that may come He meeteth with cunning and power; but only Death hath he failed to master: Death is the master of man.
As they conclude, a runner comes hastening from the right gate, calling “Pericles!”
Pericles rises, receives in pantomime the message of the runner, and indicates to Sophocles that he must return to the city.
He and Aspasia and their followers depart [right gate]. With a gesture, then, to the Choregus, Sophocles dismisses the rehearsal; he and his friends follow the others; the Chorus forms again in files and ranks, moving off with the playing Flute-players to the right Interlude gate, where all disappear.
INTERLUDE I