Antigone

Perseus Greek · Perseus Greek · 406 sections

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Quiet, before your words truly fill me with rage, so that you not be found at the same time foolish as well as old. You say what is intolerable when you claim that the gods have concern for that corpse. Was it in high esteem for his benefactions
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that they sought to hide him, when he had come to burn their columned shrines, their sacred treasures and their land, and scatter its laws to the winds? Or do you see the gods honoring the wicked? It cannot be. No! From the very first
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certain men of the city were chafing at this edict and muttering against me, tossing their heads in secret, and they did not keep their necks duly under the yoke in submission to me. By those men, I am certain, they were led astray and bribed to do this deed.
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Nothing so evil as money ever grew to be current among men. This destroys cities, this drives men from their homes, this trains and warps honest minds to set themselves to works of shame,
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this teaches people to practise villainies, and to know every act of unholiness. But all the men who did this job for hire have made sure that, sooner or later, they shall suffer the punishment. Now, as Zeus still has my reverence, know this well—
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I tell you on my oath. If you do not find the very hand that made this burial, and reveal him before my eyes, mere death shall not suffice for you, not before, hung up alive, you have made this outrage plain,
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so that hereafter you may thieve with better knowledge of where your money should be received from, and learn that it is best not to be fond of money-making from any and every source. For you will find that ill-gotten gains bring more men to ruin than to safety.
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Will you allow me to speak? Or shall I just turn and go?
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Do you not know even now how much your voice sickens me?
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Is the pain in your ears, or in your soul?
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And why would you define the seat of my pain?
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He who did it hurts your heart, but I, your ears.
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God! How plain it is that you are a born babbler.
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Perhaps, but never the author of this action.
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Yes, and what is more, you sold your life for silver.
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Ah! It is truly sad when the judge judges wrong .
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Expound on judgment as you will. But, if you fail to
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show me the perpetrators of these crimes, you will avow that money basely earned wreaks sorrows. Exit Creon.
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Well, may the man be found! That would be best. But, whether he be caught or not—for fortune must decide that—I assure you that you will not see me come here again.
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Saved just now beyond hope and belief, I owe the gods great thanks. Exit the Guard.
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Wonders are many, and none is more wonderful than man.
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This power spans the sea, even when it surges white before the gales of the south-wind, and makes a path under swells that threaten to engulf him. Earth, too, the eldest of the gods, the immortal, the unwearied,
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he wears away to his own ends, turning the soil with the offspring of horses as the plows weave to and fro year after year.
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The light-hearted tribe of birds
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and the clans of wild beasts and the sea-brood of the deep he snares in the meshes of his twisted nets, and he leads them captive, very-skilled man. He masters by his arts
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the beast who dwells in the wilds and roams the hills. He tames the shaggy-maned horse, putting the yoke upon its neck, and tames the tireless mountain bull.
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Speech and thought fast as the wind and the moods that give order to a city he has taught himself, and how to flee the arrows of the inhospitable frost under clear skies and the arrows of the storming rain.
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He has resource for everything. Lacking resource in nothing he strides towards what must come. From Death alone he shall procure no escape, but from baffling diseases he has devised flights.
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Possessing resourceful skill, a subtlety beyond expectation he moves now to evil, now to good. When he honors the laws of the land and the justice of the gods to which he is bound by oath,
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his city prospers. But banned from his city is he who, thanks to his rashness, couples with disgrace. Never may he share my home,
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never think my thoughts, who does these things!
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What marvel sent by the gods is this?—I am bewildered! I know her. How can I deny that this girl is Antigone? O unhappy child
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of your unhappy father, of Oedipus! What can this mean? What! Surely they are not bringing you captive for disobeying the King’s laws and being caught in lunacy?
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Look, here comes Ismene from the palace, shedding the tears of a loving sister. A cloud over her eyes mars her red-flushed face,
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and it breaks into rain on her comely cheek.
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You who were lurking like a viper in my own house and secretly gulping up my life’s blood, while I was oblivious that I was nurturing two plagues, two revolutions against my throne—tell me now, will you also affirm
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your share in this burial, or will you forswear all knowledge of it?
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I performed the deed—as long as she concurs—and I share and carry the burden of guilt.
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No, justice will not permit you to do this, since you were not willing to help with the deed, nor did I give you a part in it.
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But now with this sea of troubles around you, I am not ashamed to sail in a sea of suffering at your side.
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As to whose deed it is, Hades and the dead are witnesses. A friend in words is not the type of friend I love.
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No, sister, do not strip me of death’s honor,
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but let me die with you and make due consecration to the dead.
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Do not share my death. Do not claim deeds to which you did not put your hand. My death will suffice.
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And how can I cherish life, once I am deprived of you?
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Ask Creon. Your concern is for him.
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Why do you torture me like this, when it does not help you?
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No, if I mock you, it is to my own pain that I do so.
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Tell me, how can I help you, even now?
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Save yourself. I do not grudge your escape.
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Ah, misery! Will I fall short of sharing your fate?
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Your choice was to live, it was mine to die.
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At least your choice was not made without my protests.
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One world approved your wisdom, another approved mine.
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Nevertheless, the offense is identical for both of us.
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Take heart! You live. But my life has long been
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in Death’s hands so that I might serve the dead.
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One of these maidens, I declare, has just revealed her foolishness; the other has displayed it from the moment of her birth.
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Yes, Creon. Whatever amount of reason nature may have given them does not remain with those in dire straits, but goes astray.
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Yours did, I know, when you chose dire actions with dire allies.
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What life would there be for me alone, without her presence?
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Do not speak of her presence. She lives no longer.
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What? You will kill your own son’s bride?
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Why not? There are other fields for him to plough.
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But not fitted to him as she was.
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I abhor an evil wife for my son.
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Haemon, dearest! How your father wrongs you!
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Enough! Enough of you and of your marriage!
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Will you really cheat your son of this girl?
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Death it is who will end these bridals for me.
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Then it seems that it is resolved that she will die.
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Resolved, yes, for you and by me. To the two Attendants. No more delay! Servants, take them inside! Hereafter they must be women, and not left at large.
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For it is known that even the brave seek to flee, when they see Death now closing on their life. Exeunt Attendants, guarding Antigone and Ismene. Creon remains.
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Blest are those whose days have not tasted of evil. For when a house has once been shaken by the gods,
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no form of ruin is lacking, but it spreads over the bulk of the race, just as, when the surge is driven over the darkness of the deep by the fierce breath of Thracian sea-winds,
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it rolls up the black sand from the depths, and the wind-beaten headlands that front the blows of the storm give out a mournful roar.
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I see that the ancient sorrows of the house of the Labdacids
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are heaped upon the sorrows of the dead. Each generation does not set its race free, but some god hurls it down and the race has no release. For now that dazzling ray of hope that had been spread
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over the last roots in the house of Oedipus—that hope, in its turn, the blood-stained dust of the gods infernal and mindlessness in speech and frenzy at the mind cuts down.
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Your power, great Zeus—what human overstepping can check it? Yours is power that neither Sleep, the all-ensnaring, nor the untiring months of the gods can defeat. Unaged through time,
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you rule by your power and dwell thereby in the brilliant splendor of Olympus. And through the future, both near and distant, as through the past, shall this law prevail: nothing that is vast comes to the life of mortals without ruin.
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See how that hope whose wanderings are so wide truly is a benefit to many men, but to an equal number it is a false lure of light-headed desires. The deception comes to one who is wholly unawares until he burns his foot on a hot fire.
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For with wisdom did someone once reveal the maxim, now famous, that evil at one time or another seems good, to him whose mind a god leads to ruin.
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But for the briefest moment such a man fares free of destruction.
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But here is Haemon, the last of your offspring. Does he come grieving for the doom of Antigone, his promised bride,
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and bitter for the deceived hope of their marriage?
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We will soon know better than seers could tell us.—My son, can it be that after hearing the final judgment concerning your betrothed, you have come in rage against your father? Or do I have your loyalty, act how I may?
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Father, I am yours, and you keep me upright with precepts good for me—precepts I shall follow. No marriage will be deemed by me more important than your good guidance.
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Yes, my son, this is the spirit you should maintain in your heart—to stand behind your father’s will in all things. It is for this that men pray: to sire and raise in their homes children who are obedient, that they may requite their father’s enemy with evil and honor his friend, just as their father does.
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But the man who begets unhelpful children—what would you say that he has sown except miseries for himself and abundant exultation for his enemies? Never, then, my son, banish your reason for pleasure on account of a woman,
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knowing that this embrace soon becomes cold and brittle—an evil woman to share your bed and home. For what wound could strike deeper than a false friend? No, spit her out as if she were an enemy, let her go find a husband in Hades.
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For since I caught her alone of all the city in open defiance, I will not make myself a liar to my city. I will kill her. So let her call on Zeus who protects kindred blood. If I am to foster my own kin to spurn order,
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surely I will do the same for outsiders. For whoever shows his excellence in the case of his own household will be found righteous in his city as well. But if anyone oversteps and does violence to the laws, or thinks to dictate to those in power,
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such a one will never win praise from me. No, whomever the city may appoint, that man must be obeyed in matters small and great and in matters just and unjust. And I would feel confident that such a man would be a fine ruler no less than a good and willing subject,
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and that beneath a hail of spears he would stand his ground where posted, a loyal and brave comrade in the battle line. But there is no evil worse than disobedience. This destroys cities; this overturns homes; this breaks
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the ranks of allied spears into headlong rout. But the lives of men who prosper upright, of these obedience has saved the greatest part. Therefore we must defend those who respect order, and in no way can we let a woman defeat us. It is better to fall from power, if it is fated, by a man’s hand,
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than that we be called weaker than women.
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To us, unless our years have stolen our wit, you seem to say what you say wisely.
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Father, the gods implant reason in men, the highest of all things that we call our own.
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For my part, to state how you are wrong to say those things is beyond my power and my desire, although another man, too, might have a useful thought. In any case, it is my natural duty to watch on your behalf all that men say, or do, or find to blame.

Perseus Greek. CTS URN tlg0011.tlg002.perseus-eng2. Via the Perseus Digital Library / Open Greek and Latin TEI corpora. Licence: CC BY-SA 4.0. Source.