ANTIGONE
Yea, for these laws were not ordained of Zeus,
And she who sits enthroned with gods below,
Justice, enacted not these human laws.
Nor did I deem that thou, a mortal man,
Could'st by a breath annul and override
The immutable unwritten laws of Heaven.
They were not born today nor yesterday;
They die not; and none knoweth whence they sprang.
I was not like, who feared no mortal's frown,
To disobey these laws and so provoke
The wrath of Heaven. I knew that I must die,
E'en hadst thou not proclaimed it; and if death
Is thereby hastened, I shall count it gain.
For death is gain to him whose life, like mine,
Is full of misery. Thus my lot appears
Not sad, but blissful; for had I endured
To leave my mother's son unburied there,
I should have grieved with reason, but not now.
And if in this thou judgest me a fool,
Methinks the judge of folly's not acquit.
CHORUS
A stubborn daughter of a stubborn sire,
This ill-starred maiden kicks against the pricks.
CREON
Well, let her know the stubbornest of wills
Are soonest bended, as the hardest iron,
O'er-heated in the fire to brittleness,
Flies soonest into fragments, shivered through.
A snaffle curbs the fieriest steed, and he
Who in subjection lives must needs be meek.
But this proud girl, in insolence well-schooled,
First overstepped the established law, and then--
A second and worse act of insolence--
She boasts and glories in her wickedness.
Now if she thus can flout authority
Unpunished, I am woman, she the man.
But though she be my sister's child or nearer
Of kin than all who worship at my hearth,
Nor she nor yet her sister shall escape
The utmost penalty, for both I hold,
As arch-conspirators, of equal guilt.
Bring forth the older; even now I saw her
Within the palace, frenzied and distraught.
The workings of the mind discover oft
Dark deeds in darkness schemed, before the act.
More hateful still the miscreant who seeks
When caught, to make a virtue of a crime.
ANTIGONE
Would'st thou do more than slay thy prisoner?
CREON
Not I, thy life is mine, and that's enough.
ANTIGONE
Why dally then? To me no word of thine
Is pleasant: God forbid it e'er should please;
Nor am I more acceptable to thee.
And yet how otherwise had I achieved
A name so glorious as by burying
A brother? so my townsmen all would say,
Where they not gagged by terror, Manifold
A king's prerogatives, and not the least
That all his acts and all his words are law.
CREON
Of all these Thebans none so deems but thou.
ANTIGONE
These think as I, but bate their breath to thee.
CREON
Hast thou no shame to differ from all these?
ANTIGONE
To reverence kith and kin can bring no shame.
CREON
Was his dead foeman not thy kinsman too?
ANTIGONE
One mother bare them and the self-same sire.
CREON
Why cast a slur on one by honoring one?
ANTIGONE
The dead man will not bear thee out in this.
CREON
Surely, if good and evil fare alive.
ANTIGONE
The slain man was no villain but a brother.
CREON
The patriot perished by the outlaw's brand.
ANTIGONE
Nathless the realms below these rites require.
CREON
Not that the base should fare as do the brave.
ANTIGONE
Who knows if this world's crimes are virtues there?
CREON
Not even death can make a foe a friend.
ANTIGONE
My nature is for mutual love, not hate.
CREON
Die then, and love the dead if thou must;
No woman shall be the master while I live.
[Enter ISMENE]
CHORUS
Lo from out the palace gate,
Weeping o'er her sister's fate,
Comes Ismene; see her brow,
Once serene, beclouded now,
See her beauteous face o'erspread
With a flush of angry red.
CREON
Woman, who like a viper unperceived
Didst harbor in my house and drain my blood,
Two plagues I nurtured blindly, so it proved,
To sap my throne. Say, didst thou too abet
This crime, or dost abjure all privity?
ISMENE
I did the deed, if she will have it so,
And with my sister claim to share the guilt.
ANTIGONE
That were unjust. Thou would'st not act with me
At first, and I refused thy partnership.
ISMENE
But now thy bark is stranded, I am bold
To claim my share as partner in the loss.
ANTIGONE
Who did the deed the under-world knows well:
A friend in word is never friend of mine.
ISMENE
O sister, scorn me not, let me but share
Thy work of piety, and with thee die.
ANTIGONE
Claim not a work in which thou hadst no hand;
One death sufficeth. Wherefore should'st thou die?
ISMENE
What would life profit me bereft of thee?
ANTIGONE
Ask Creon, he's thy kinsman and best friend.
ISMENE
Why taunt me? Find'st thou pleasure in these gibes?
|