Place: in front of the royal palace at Thebes. One side-direction leads to the civic areas of the city: the other goes towards the plain outside the walls, site of the battle fought the day before.
°Antigone and Ismene cautiously emerge together from the palace doors.
My sister,° sister bound by blood, Ismene—
tell me this: of all the horrors left by Oedipus
what is there Zeus does not bring to a head
for us, the two still left alive?
All that’s disastrous and distorted
and disgusting and humiliating—
all I’ve seen among our troubles, yours and mine.
And now what’s this: this edict the Commander°
has just issued to the whole of Thebes?
Have you heard anything? Can you not know
that hostile dangers march on those we love? 10
°I’ve heard of nothing good or bad for them, Antigone,
not since the two of us were stripped
of our two brothers, slaughtered
on a single day by their two pairs of hands.
But since the Argive army’s gone away last night,
I know of nothing after that to bring me either comfort,
or yet more disaster.
I thought as much: that’s why I’ve fetched you here
beyond the outer doors, for you alone to hear.
What can it be?
It’s clear you are fermenting some dark news. 20
Yes. Creon’s granted one of our two brothers
burial with honour, while un-honouring the other.
Eteocles he’s had interred with full observances
respected for the dead below:
but as for Polynices’ wretched corpse,
a proclamation has been made to all the citizens
that nobody should lay him in the grave,
or grieve for him; but leave him all unwept, untombed,
rich pickings for the kites that relish carrion. 30
That’s what they say our virtuous Creon
has ordained for you—and me, yes me!°
He’s coming here to make this proclamation clear
to those who’ve not yet heard.
And he’s not treating this as trivial, no:
death by public stoning° is prescribed
for anyone who does these things.
There: now it’s up to you to show
if you are truly noble,
or, despite your blood, a coward.
If this is how things are, then what can I achieve
to tighten or to loosen them? 40
To share the effort, share the hazard? Think. . . .
What kind of danger? What can you be thinking of?
. . . to help these hands of mine to lift the corpse.
You mean to bury him?
Although it’s publicly prohibited?
My brother—yes, your brother too,
want it or not. You won’t find me betraying him.
Poor fool! When Creon has forbidden it?
It’s not his place to separate me from what’s mine.
O, sister, stop! 50
°Just think of how our father died, notorious, detested,
after he’d discovered his own crimes;
and how he jabbed his own two eyes himself.
And then his mother-wife, as she was both,
choked off her life hung in a twisted noose.
And third, our pair of brothers on a single day
fought on until they both were done to death
at one another’s hands.
And now we two, the last two left—
look how our deaths would be the ugliest of all
if we defy the ruler’s writ and power against the law. 60
We must remember we are born as women
and not made to fight with men;
and so we’re subject to their stronger power.
That’s why we have to bear these things—and even worse.
For my part, then, I’m going to beg forgiveness
from the dead, because I’m overruled by force,
and shall obey those in command.
There is no sense, I say, in trying
to do more than can be done.
Well then, I’ll not press you—
and even if you ever wanted to take part,
I’d not be glad to have you acting with me. 70
You be the way that you see fit:
while I shall go and bury him.
It’s right for me to do that and then die;
belovèd I shall lie with him beloved,°
a righteous criminal.
You see, I have to please the dead below
for longer far than those up here
as I shall lie down there for evermore.°
You, if you want, demean the things
the gods consider valuable.
I don’t demean them.
But I've no ability to go against the city’s will.
You may give that as your excuse: 80
but I am going now to raise a tomb
for my beloved brother.
O god, I am so terrified for you, poor thing!
Don’t fear for me: just set your own course straight.
At least tell no one what you’re doing;
keep it secret. And I’ll do the same.
No, no, speak out!
I shall dislike you all the more for staying quiet,
and not proclaiming this to everyone.
Your blood is hot for such spine-chilling things.
At least I know I’m pleasing those I most should please.
Yes, if you could succeed;
but you’re in love with what’s not possible. 90
When I have no strength left, that’s when I’ll stop.
You should not start to chase what can’t be done.
Say that and earn my hatred,
and be rightly hated by the dead as well.
Leave me alone with my own foolishness
to suffer this, if it’s so terrible.
I’ll suffer nothing that’s too bad
to stop me dying well.
Well, go then if you think that’s right.
Your mission may be madness, yet, for sure,
you’re truly loving towards those you love.
°Ismene goes back inside; Antigone goes in the direction of the plain outside the city-walls.
The chorus enters from the side of the city.
°Brightest ray that ever shone 100
on seven-gated Thebes,
golden eye of daylight, sun-
rise over Dirce’s streams.
You reversed the Argive might
of bristling battle-gear,°
sent them off in panic flight
gored by our sharper spur.
They were launched against our land by 110
Polynices, roused through doubtful
quarrels°—like an eagle taking
wing across our country, shrieking,
with his threats against our city,
thick with spears and nodding crests.
So above our homes it stood
and gaped its spear-filled beak,
but, before gorged with our blood, 120
it turned tail and flew back.
And before flames licked our walls,
the battle-clatter shook,
and around its back there coiled
the hissing Theban snake.°
Zeus detests high-boasting bluster:
and so, when he saw them coming
with a stream of golden clatter, 130
he let fly his fire-bolt, hurling
down the one who scaled the ramparts
stifling his victory-cry.
He teetered and then plunged
thudding to the ground,
the man who brandished fire,
fanned with hate-filled wind
in his crazed attack.
But he falls and fails.°
And mighty Ares° crushed
yet others other ways. 140
Seven leaders, seven portals,
took their stand to face each other,°
left their bronze for Zeus of trophies.°
All except those cursèd brothers—
single father, single mother—
who both fixed their winner’s spear-point
in the other, sharing death.
But Victory now has come,
glory matched by joys
for chariot-famous Thebes.°
Let’s forget those wars, 150
erased by peace of mind;
visit every shrine
with night-long song and dance;
and, Bacchus,° lead the line.
°Creon, with his bodyguards, comes out of the palace.
Here, though, Creon is approaching,
our new leader in these latest
turns of fortune. What’s he planning,
that has led him to convene this
special meeting of us elders? 160
The city, gentlemen, has now been steadied
on an even keel, saved by the gods
from shipwreck in the violent storm.
And I have summoned you especially,
because I know you always paid
due homage to the rule of Laius;
and then to Oedipus when he was king;
then after he had died, you stood firm
by his sons with sound advice.
So now that they have fallen on a single day, 170
polluted, striking and struck down at their own hands,
it falls to me to take up sovereign power
through my close kinship° with the dead.
There is no way, say I, to know a man,
his spirit, mind, and judgement—all the man—
until he’s shown his worth
in handling law and governance.
For in my view the one who runs the country,
yet does not hold firmly to best policy,
or keeps his mouth shut from some fear, 180
I’ve always held a man like that beneath contempt.
And I’ve no room for one who values
his own kin above his fatherland.
All-seeing Zeus now be my witness,
I would never hold my tongue
if I could see disaster looming for my fellow-citizens
to threaten their security; nor would I ever count
my country’s enemy as kin to me.°
I recognize it’s this that keeps us safe;
and it is only when we sail upon an even keel
that we can work out who our dear ones are. 190
It is through principles like these
I aim to make this city strong.
Accordingly I have proclaimed this edict
to the citizens concerning the two sons of Oedipus.
(delivering edict)
Eteocles, who perished fighting with distinction
for our country, shall be buried in the tomb
with all the rituals that should
accompany the noblest dead below.
As for his sibling, namely Polynices,
who returned from exile in the hope
of burning down his native land and family gods, 200
desiring to taste kindred blood,
and drag the rest away to slavery:
it has been publicly decreed that nobody
shall give him funeral rites, nor mourn for him.
His corpse must lie unburied
for the birds and dogs to rend,
a spectacle of shame.
Such is my way of thinking: on my watch wrong-doers
never shall be rated higher than the just.
The man who stays true to this city shall,
in death and life alike, have honour due from me. 210
You may do as you please, son of Menoeceus,
with those malignant to this land, and those benign.
You have the power to lay down any law you wish
in dealing with the dead and us who live.
Then see to it that my commands . . .
Assign that task to someone younger . . .
No no, there are already guards to watch the corpse.
What further order are you giving then?
Don’t ever side with those who disobey.
Who but a fool would long for death? 220
True, that’s the penalty. Yet hope of payment
has so often dragged men down.
Enter the guard suddenly but apprehensively from the side of the plain.
°My lord, that I have come here swiftly,
out of breath or fleet of foot,
would not be true.
In fact I often hesitated on the way
and started to turn back.
My spirit held a lengthy dialogue:
‘You fool, why tread the path to where
you’ll meet with punishment?’
Then, ‘Idiot, why have you stopped again?
If Creon finds this out from someone else,
you’re certain to pay dear for it.’ 230
The twists of suchlike thoughts held back my progress,
and a little way became a long, long trek.
But in the end arriving here has won the day—
for you. And I shall tell you why, no matter what:
I clutch onto the hope
that I can only suffer what is fated.
What’s driving you to such a state?
First I would like to tell you where I stand:
I did not do the deed; and did not see who did;
so it would not be right for me to come to any harm. 240
You’re shrewd at setting fences round the matter:
clearly you have news.
It’s frightening to have to tell of fearsome things.
Well why not spit it out and then be on your way?
All right, I’m telling you.
Someone’s just buried it, the body;
sprinkled some dry dust on it,
and carried out the rituals, then gone.
What’s this? What man° has dared to do this thing?
I’ve no idea.
There was no trace of digging with an implement;
the ground was hard and undisturbed, 250
unmarked by any track of wheels—
whoever did it left no trace.
So when the first watch of the day found out,
it was a horrible surprise for everyone.
°The corpse had disappeared from sight,
not laid down in a grave, but covered with a layer of dust,
as though performed by someone to avoid pollution.
And there was no sign that any dog or predator
had come and mauled it.
Well, there were violent words between us then,
with guard accusing guard— 260
it might have come to blows,
with no one there to stop the brawl,
for everyone supposedly had done the act,
yet no one obviously had, or knew of anything.
We all were quite prepared to handle red-hot iron,
to walk through fire, swear by the gods
that we’d not done a thing, and had no knowledge
who had planned or carried out the deed.
But in the end, when we weren’t getting anywhere,
someone proposed a thing that made us all
stare down in fear—we couldn’t contradict the man, 270
yet couldn’t see how it would do us any good.
He said it ought to be reported straight to you,
and not concealed. That won the day:
the shortest straw selected me to be the wretch
for this delightful task. So here I am—
though wanting this no more than I am wanted,
since nobody loves the bringer of bad news.
My lord, I wonder if this act might not have been
directed by a god? That thought has kept on nagging me.
Stop there! Before you cram me full of rage, 280
and get shown up a fool as well as old.
Your notion is intolerable: the gods
might care about this corpse?
D’you think they covered him in recognition
of his benefactions?—the man who came
to set their temples and their offerings alight;
who came to rip apart their country and its rituals?
Or do you see the gods rewarding vicious men?
The answer’s ‘no’.
But there are people in this land who’ve long
been discontented, stirring talk against me secretly. 290
They toss their heads and will not keep their necks
beneath the yoke of being satisfied with me.
And I am certain that these guards have been
induced by bribes from them to engineer this burial.
°There is no currency between us humans
that is so corrupt as silver.
It is money ransacks cities, roots out people from their homes,
corrupts good minds to turn to vicious ways;
it’s money’s opened up to people every sort of wrong
and wickedness without restraint. 300
But those who’ve taken cash to do this thing
have made damn sure they’ll pay the price eventually.
(to the guard ) As I still keep my reverence for Zeus,
be sure of this—I speak on oath:
if you guards fail to find the perpetrators of this burial,
and bring them here before my eyes,
one death won’t be enough for you:
you’ll be strung up alive to demonstrate
just what this insolence° is bound to mean.
And so you’ll know in future where
to take your handouts from, and realize 310
you should not look for pickings from just anywhere.
For shady dealings bring more people
crashing down than they leave staying safe.
Permission now to speak? Or simply turn and go?
Can you not tell how much your words annoy me?
And is the irritation in your ears or in your mind?
Why try to pinpoint where I feel the pain?
The man who did it irks your mind: me just your ears.
You clearly are a great one for the clever talk. 320
Maybe—but not the one who did this deed.
You did, and did because you sold yourself for silver.
It’s dreadful when decisions rest on false beliefs.
You’re welcome to go on and on about beliefs,
but if you don’t produce for me the men responsible,
you’ll be a demonstration of the way
corrupted gain ends up with pain.
Yes, let’s hope he’s found . . .
though whether found or not is up to chance:
what’s certain, though, is that you’ll not
be seeing me again.
It’s more than I could hope
that I’ve got safe away this time— 330
for that I owe the gods much thanks.
The guard departs back towards the plain.
°There are many formidable things,
but none more formidable° than
are human beings.
They sail over ocean’s grey wastes
with southerly storm-winds between
towering waves.
And the god most primeval of all—
undying, unwearying Earth—
by turning the soil
they repeatedly rake her and tear,
as horses pull ploughs back and forth, 340
year after year.
The birds in thought-fluttering flocks
are captured in snares, and wild beasts
trapped by their tricks,
and the shoals of the fish in the sea
get entangled in spiralling nets—
man’s ingenuity!
They’ve invented devices and wiles
to domesticate animals that
roam in the wilds; 350
the resolute mountain-bred ox
and shaggy-maned horse are controlled,
necks under yokes.
Humans have learnt the skills to use
language and reason quick as the breeze;
and attitudes that bind the town;
and shields from frost and pelting of rain.
This all-resourceful human creature,
short of resource for nothing in future! 360
Only from death there’s no release—
though cures have been found from dire disease.
They turn their clever aptitude
sometimes to bad, and sometimes to good.
Those who honour the country’s law,
revering the gods, raise their city secure:
yet there’s no city° for someone veering 370
off into ways of error through daring.
May one committing things like those
not join in my thoughts, nor visit my house.
The guard returns bringing Antigone as a prisoner.
I’m bewildered by this portent:
there is no denying this is
young Antigone. O wretched
child of wretched father, what has 380
happened? Surely they’re not bringing
you for disregarding royal
edicts, caught in something foolish?
This is the one who did the deed,
arrested in the act of burying.
But where’s Creon?
Here, coming from the palace just as he is wanted.
What’s going on? What’s this that chimes with my arrival?
My lord, there’s nothing we should swear will never happen:
second thoughts can turn our first thoughts into liars.
So I was clear I’d never be back here, 390
not after all those threats you lashed me with.
But since there is no pleasure that can match
obtaining what you prayed for but could never hope,
I’ve come, although I swore I never would.
I’m bringing this young woman here:
we caught her in the act of burial rites.
No drawing straws this time:
this stroke of luck is mine and no one else’s!
And now, my lord, it is for you to take her,
question, and convict her.
I’m a free man, and it’s only right for me
to be discharged from this bad business. 400
How was it that you caught her? Where?
She was there, burying the man. That’s all there is to know.
D’you realize what you’re saying? Are you sure?
I saw her burying the corpse you had forbidden.
Is that loud and clear enough?
How was she found? How caught red-handed?
Well, this is how it was.
Once we were back, fresh from those threats of yours,
we cleared the dry earth off the corpse,
and swept the rotting body well and truly bare. 410
We settled on the higher ground, up-wind
so that the stink of him did not get blown our way.
And we were wide awake, and cursing at each other,
making sure that no one got distracted from the job.
The time went by like this until the bright disc of the sun
had reached its zenith in the sky—and it was scorching hot.
°Then suddenly a whirlwind lifted up
a sky-high cloud of dust which swept the plain,
and ripped the foliage from the thickets there.
The whole wide air was filled with whirling grit: 420
we simply had to close our eyes,
and put up with this eerie torment.
It cleared up at long last—and there she was,
the girl, for all to see.
She was lamenting shrilly, like the screeching
of a bird that finds its nest is empty, chicks all gone:
that’s how she cried out when she saw the body bare;
and kept on calling violent curses down
upon the heads of those who’d done this thing.
Then straight away she fetched dry dust
in her bare hands, and poured around the body 430
three libations from an urn of finely crafted bronze.
On seeing this we rushed and cornered her—
though she was not at all alarmed.
When we accused her of the earlier act
as well as this one, she did not deny a thing.
That caused me pain and pleasure both together:
it’s very nice to have got free from trouble,
yet to drag down somebody who’s dear instead—
that’s painful.
But all this matters less to me
than does my own survival. 440
You, yes you there, staring at the ground,
do you admit you did this, or do you deny it?
Yes, I admit I did, and don’t deny the deed.
You go, wherever you may please;
you’re free, acquitted of this serious charge.
And you, now answer me, and keep it short:
were you aware that doing this
had been forbidden by the proclamation?
I was aware. How could I not be? It was clear enough.
And still you dared to contravene these laws?
°I did, because for me it was not Zeus 450
who made this proclamation;
nor did Justice that inhabits with the gods below
decree these laws for humans to observe.
I have concluded that your edicts, as you’re mortal,
are not strong enough to override
the statutes of the gods,
which are unwritten and unshakeable.
These do not date, you see, just from today
or yesterday, but live for ever,
and nobody knows when they first came to light.
So I was not prepared to pay the penalty
before the gods for breaking those,
not out of fear for any mere man’s way of thinking.
I knew I had to die for it—of course I did— 460
that did not need your proclamation.
And if I die before my time, I count that as pure gain.
For one who lives amidst as much distress as me
can’t help but see death as a gain.
And so, for me, this doom of yours is far from pain:
but had I left the body of my mother’s son
unburied there, that would
have really hurt, while this does not.
And if you think I am a fool for what I’ve done,
the one who passes judgement on me is the fool. 470
It’s clear the daughter has derived
this fierce trait from her father’s fierceness.
She has got no notion how to compromise in trouble.
Well, let me tell you: attitudes that are too rigid
are most likely to come crashing down,
and iron that has been forged to extra hardness
you will see most cracked and splintered.
I have known the most unruly horses broken
with a little bridle—and rightly so because
big thoughts are not allowed
in one who is a household slave.
She showed her expertise with insolence 480
back then when she defied official laws;
and after that here is a double insolence:
she laughs and revels over what she’s done.
Now I’m no man, and she’s the man,°
if this control of hers is going to stay unpunished.
I do not care if she’s my sister’s child,
or closer kin than everyone who shares
our household Zeus,° she, and her sister too,
will not evade the nastiest of deaths.
I sentence her as well, as being equally
involved in scheming for this burial. 490
Go summon her out here—I saw her
in the house just now, distracted and hysterical.
The mind that’s plotting wrong in secret
often gets detected in advance;
and yet I hate it too when someone, after being caught,
attempts to paint the crime as beautiful.
So is there anything you want beyond just killing me?
No, nothing—having that’s my everything.
Why are you waiting then?
I have no liking for a single syllable you say, 500
and trust I never shall—just as I’m bound
to keep on being disagreeable for you.
And yet . . . what higher glory could I win
than by performing my blood-brother’s burial?
And all these people here would give me their approval,
were their tongues not clamped by fear.
One of the great advantages of one-man rule
is liberty to do and say just what you please.°
But you alone of all the Thebans see things in this light.
These do as well, but gag their mouths in front of you.
And are you not ashamed to think so differently? 510
No shame in honouring those born of one womb.
Did his opponent to the death not share your blood as well?
He did—same mother and same father too.
So how can you bestow a favour that besmirches him?
The man who’s dead will not support that view.°
Not even if you honour him as equal to that filth?
It was his brother, not some slave, who died.
Out to destroy this land: the other stood in its defence.
Yet Hades still desires these funeral rites.
The good should not get equal treatment with the bad. 520
Who is to say what’s seen as rightful in the world below?
An enemy can never be a friend, not even after death.
I’m bound by birth to join in love, not join in enmity.°
Then go below and love those there, if love you must.
No woman’s going to be in charge as long as I’m alive.
Ismene is brought out under guard.
Here’s Ismene coming out now
weeping for her dearest sister.
Brooding storms lour on her forehead,
stain her lovely cheeks with teardrops. 530
It’s you who’s lurked inside my house;
it’s you has drained me like some viper;
and I was unaware that I was feeding up
two deadly threats to overturn my throne.
Speak up and tell me this:
Do you admit to sharing in this burial?
Or will you swear to ignorance?
I did it, yes—if she agrees.
I share the guilt and take the blame.
No. Justice will not let you make this claim.
You were unwilling, and I did not make you part of it.
But in your hour of need I’m not ashamed 540
to join you on your voyage of suffering.
No. Hades and the dead can tell whose deed it was.
I do not like a loved one who shows love with only words.
But, sister, don’t deprive me of the right
to die with you and join in reverencing the dead.
Don’t try to share my death; and don’t lay claim
to things you did not touch. My dying will suffice.
Why should I want to live if I’m bereft of you?
Ask Creon that—he is the one you care about.
Why stab at me, although it does no good? 550
It hurts me too, if with my mockery I mock at you.
Well then, what way can I still do you good?
By your surviving. I do not begrudge you your escape.
Am I to be excluded from your death?
You are, because you chose to live, and I to die.
I spoke my honest mind at least.
And you strike some as right: to others I seem right.
And so our errors are judged equally.
Farewell. And live.
My life has long been dead, so I may serve the dead. 560
I’d say that one of these two girls has just been seen as mad:
the other has been from the start.
Yes, in the worst of times, my lord, good sense
abandons even those endowed with it.
That’s true of you: you chose to go along with criminals.
What life’s worth living by myself and not with her?
Don’t speak of ‘her’—as she no longer is.
But are you going to kill your own son’s bride?°
I am—as there are other fields for him to sow.
But not so closely suited as with him and her. 570
I hate the prospect of a bad wife for my son.
Beloved Haemon, how your father undervalues you!°
You and your marriage-match just make me furious!
So will you really leave your son deprived of her?
It’s Hades who is going to call this marriage off.
It seems decided: she must die.
Yes, by both you and me.
(to his soldiers) Waste no more time, but take her inside, men.
From now they must be women, not let loose.
Even the brave, you know, attempt to run 580
when they see Hades looming close.
Antigone and Ismene are escorted inside; Creon stays on.
°Happy the life that’s lived
all untainted by taste of bad.
Utter disaster pours
on the family and the house
shaken by gods from above.
Just the way the rolling wave
stirred by a north-wind storm
moves sweeping above the gloom,
churning up from the bed 590
of the ocean the black silt cloud.
Loud on the headland shore
the ranks of the breakers roar.
From long ago the pains
of this dynasty° pile upon pains
constantly from the dead,
so the family cannot get freed;
always some god bears down
so they never can break the chain.
Oedipus’ house was bright
with the light of its latest root: 600
now that has been cut through
by the blade of the gods below—°
bloodied by foolish speech
and by thoughts beyond reason’s reach.°
Zeus, your rule is so commanding
that no human overstepping
could have strength to countermand it.
No, not sleep the all-enwrapping
nor long months can undermine it.
Never aged with time, almighty,
you hold rule on high Olympus,
lofty hall of dazzling brightness. 610
This is law as laid down sure for
past time, present, and hereafter:
nothing vast as this encounters
human life without disaster.°
Ranging Hope may bring to many
people benefits through wishing:
but for many it deceives them
with mere feather-brained ambition.
Unaware before they know it
their foot’s smouldering° in hot embers.
Someone coined this well-known saying,
words which wisdom still endorses: 620
bad things seem like good to someone
whose perception alters after
god directs them to disaster.
They’re not long without disaster.
Haemon is seen coming from the direction of the city.
°Here comes Haemon, youngest of your
children. Is he here in anger
at the sentence on Antigone
[his bride-in-waiting]
his affianced, incensed at
being cheated of his marriage? 630
We’ll soon find out, and better than by guesswork.
(to Haemon) My son, now that you’ve heard the sentence
firmly fixed against your bride-to-be,
have you come here enraged against your father?
Or do I stay still dear to you, whatever I may do?
Father, I remain your son,
and so, as long as you set out for me
sound judgements, I shall follow them.
For me no marriage shall be valued higher
than your guidance, when it’s good.
That’s right, my son: you should
wholeheartedly take up your stand in full support
behind your father’s judgement. 640
This is why men pray to raise obedient offspring
in their homes: for paying back their enemies with harm,
and valuing their friends just as their father does.
All one can say about a man whose children
offer no support is that he’s breeding problems
for himself—and hearty laughter for his enemies.
And so, my son, don’t ever throw away your thinking mind
to gratify the pleasure that a woman gives;
you need to know that if you have a tainted wife
beside you in your bed at home,
then those embraces shall go cold. 650
What festering sore could there be worse
than having vicious kin?
So spit her out, this girl, this bitter poison—
let her mate with someone down in Hades.
I arrested her myself, you see, defying my commands,
the only one from all the city;
and I’ll not present myself before the city
as untrue to my word: no, I shall kill her.
So let her go on with her chants of ‘blood-kin Zeus’.°
If I raise my own family undisciplined,
then how much more will that be true of those beyond. 660
The one who’s steadfast in his family affairs
will be perceived as just within the city too.
I’m confident that man would make an admirable ruler,(668)
and would be ready to be justly ruled;
and posted in the storm of battle 670
he would stay reliable, a trusty fellow-fighter.
°But the one who oversteps and violates the laws,(663)
or thinks that he can order those in charge around,
that person can no way earn praise from me.
Whatever man the city has established in authority,
he has to be obeyed in matters great and small,
in just and opposite alike.°(667)
There’s nothing worse than breakdown of authority: 672
this is what ruins cities, shatters households,
scatters allied troops in flight:
obedience to authority keeps men secure in line
and most effectively saves lives.
So this is how we must preserve
the proper ordering of things,
and not, whatever happens, be subjected to a woman.
It’s better, if needs must, to be defeated
by a man—for then at least we can’t be said
to have been bettered by a female. 680
You seem to us to speak good sense about these things,
if we’ve not lost our judgement through old age.
Father, the gods have planted in mankind
a thinking mind, the highest of all gifts.
I would not say your words are in the wrong,
and may I never want to;
but it may turn out as right in quite a different way.°
It is my place to keep good watch on your behalf
for all the things that anyone may say, or do, or criticize.
°You need to know the common people stand 690
in fear of you, in case they might say things
that you would not be pleased to hear.
For me, though, it’s still possible to listen to
what’s said in secret, and it’s this:
°the city’s filled with sorrow for this girl
because, most undeservedly of women,
she is due to die most horribly—
and yet for highly admirable deeds.
She is the one who did not let
her slaughtered brother lie unburied,
left for mutilation by wild dogs or crows—
so does she not deserve a crown of golden honour?
That’s the sort of word that’s darkly spread around. 700
For me there’s nothing that’s more precious, father,
than your prospering.
What lustre can there be more bright for children
than their father’s flourishing with good repute?—
the same for fathers with their children.
So don’t impose within yourself a single cast of mind:
that what you say, and nothing else, is always right.
For people who believe that they alone are sensible,
or they, and no one else, can speak—or feel—what’s good,
when opened up they’re found to be a blank.
There’s nothing shameful for a man, however wise, 710
in learning yet, and not remaining over-rigid.
You see how when a tree beside a winter flood
bends pliantly, it stays with every twig intact,
while one that is unbending gets destroyed, uprooted.
And so too a mariner who keeps the sails stretched tight
and never slackens them capsizes,
and goes on his voyage with benches upside down.
Give way, then, and allow a change of heart.
If I, though younger, am allowed to show some sense,
I say that, while it would be great for men 720
to be infallible, since things are not inclined
to tip that way, it’s good to learn
from those who offer good advice.
My lord, if he says anything that’s to the point,
it’s only right for you to learn from him—
and he from you. Both sides have said good things.
Are men of our age to be tutored
in good sense by one as young as this?
Only in what is right. I may be young
but think of my achievements more than years.
And is it an achievement to exalt those causing trouble? 730
I wouldn’t tell you to exalt those in the wrong.
But isn’t that the plague this woman is afflicted by?
The common people here in Thebes do not agree.
And is the city telling me the way to rule?
Can you not see how juvenile that sounds?
Is ruling here my task—or someone else’s?
It’s no true city that belongs to just one man.
And is the city not considered as its ruler’s realm?
Well, you would make the perfect monarch of a desert land.
It’s clear this one is fighting on the woman’s side. 740
If you’re a woman—it’s for you I am concerned.
By launching into quarrels with your father?
Only because I see you going badly wrong.
Do I go wrong if I respect my own authority?
It’s no respect to trample over what is owed the gods.
Despicable, to be subjected to a woman!
At least you will not catch me crushed by wrong.
Well, everything you say is standing up for her.
For you as well, and me, and for the gods below.(749)
°Slave to a woman! Don’t attempt to sweeten me.(756)
You want to speak, yet not to listen when you’re spoken to?
You’ll never have her, not while she is still alive. 750
In that case she shall die, and, dying, bring another down.
What? Are you really threatening so far?
What kind of threat is it to challenge empty thoughts?
You shall regret all this advice as your head’s empty.
If you were not my father, I’d say you’re the mindless one.
What’s that? I swear by heaven above you’ll not go on and on
insulting and abusing me unpunished.
(to guards) Bring out that abomination,760
so that she can die now, here,
before her bridegroom’s eyes.
Oh no, not me—don’t ever think of that—
she shall not die in front of me.
And you shall never set your eyes on me again;
then you can rage with friends who want to stay with you.
Exit Haemon away from the direction of the city.
He’s gone, my lord, run off in fury.
Youthful hearts like his in pain can take things badly.
Well, let him act and think like someone more than man:
he won’t be able to preserve those girls from death.
But do you really mean to put them both to death? 770
No, not the one who had no hand in it. You’re right.
What kind of fate do you intend for her?
°I’ll take her to a place that is untrod by human foot,
and there I’ll close her up inside
a rocky cell dug underground.
I’ll set out food sufficient to escape pollution,
so the city as a whole can still avoid miasma.
And there she can address her prayers to Hades,
who’s the only god that she reveres,
and see if she can manage not to die.
Or else she will find finally that her obsession
with the underworld is labour spent in vain. 780
Exit Creon into the palace.
°Desire, never conquered in fight,
Desire, you invade every heart.°
The cheeks of a delicate girl
are where you encamp through the night;
you find your way over the seas,
and creep inside huts in the fields.
No god and no human escapes;
one who has you is utterly crazed. 790
You drag awry minds that are good,
and violently turn them to harm;
it is you who have stirred up this strife
between these two men of shared blood.
The nubile young bride with her gaze
stirs longing and lifts up the prize;
such passion defeats highest laws—°
Aphrodite invincibly plays. 800
°Antigone is brought on by guards.
As I see this, even I am
swept beyond the laws’ high order.
I can now restrain no longer
teardrops spilling as I witness
young Antigone here passing
to the room where all must sleep.
Here you see me, citizens
of my famous fatherland,
treading on my final way,
looking on my final sun,
never after this again. 810
Hades who lays all to sleep
takes me while I’m still alive
to the shore of Acheron;
cancelled from my wedding-day,
silenced from my marriage-song,
I shall lie with Acheron.
Surely there’s some fame and glory
in your going to the cavern
where the dead lie, yet not wasted
by diseases, nor dispatched by 820
warfare; but with independence
you alone of mortal women
pass on down to Hades, living.
°I have heard how Niobe,
who came to Thebes from Phrygia,
went back to a dreadful death.
Near the peak of Sipylus
she was cased about with stone,
gripping her as ivy creeps.
There the showers of rain and snow 830
falling ceaseless wear her smooth;
trickling tears drip from her brow,
constantly run down her cheeks.
She’s most like to me indeed
as the god takes me to bed.
°But she was divine, descended
from the race of gods, while we are
humans born of mortal parents.
All the same it makes your dying
shine to share a fate with godlike
equals, both in life and death.
I’m made a mockery!
By our ancestral gods,
why show contempt for me
in view and not yet gone? 840
O city, and you men,
rich citizens of Thebes,
and land of chariots
and Dirce’s flowing streams,
you are my witnesses:
see how, unwept by friends,
condemned by what decrees,
I make my way towards
my bizarre burial,
my excavated cell,
not with the living, though, 850
nor with the dead below.
Child, you pressed on to the verge of
daring, and then stumbled on the
mighty pedestal of justice,
paying for ancestral torment.
You’ve pressed my greatest wound:
my father’s threefold pain,
and all our dynasty° 860
with its collective fate.
My mother’s union was
disaster, coupling in
bed incestuous—
a father’s mothering.
Such was my origin;
and back to them I pass,
child-sister settler,
unmarried and accursed.
And so your burial,° 870
my brother, has entailed
my death; your dying has
killed me alive as well.
Your deed has a kind of rightness:
yet, for one in power, that power must
not be violated. You, it is your
wilful temper has destroyed you.
Without tears, without friends,
without wedding-chorus
I am led on to tread
this pathway before us.
I have to see no more
this sun’s illumination; 880
I have no friend to mourn
my doom, no lamentation.
Enter Creon abruptly from the palace, accompanied by guards.
For sure if chants and mourning
could hold death at bay,
then nobody would cease from them.
(to guards) Take her away at once,
and when you’ve wrapped her tight
inside the dug-out tomb, as I’ve instructed,
leave her there alone to see
if she would like to die, or live
incarcerated in a vault like that—
whichever way, our hands are clean
concerning this young woman.
What is sure is that she’s going to be deprived 890
of dwelling here above.
°My tomb, my bridal chamber
and my deep-dug dwelling, my for-ever cell,
I go to you to join with my own people—
with so many of them down among the dead
admitted by Persephone.
And last of all of them I go, my ending far the worst,
before I’ve reached my proper share of life.
At least as I reach there I am sustained by hoping
I’ll arrive as loving to my father,
and beloved for you, my mother,
and as loving towards you, dear brother;
since all of you, when you lay dead, I washed 900
and dressed and poured out
funeral offerings with my own hands.
And, Polynices, now it is for caring for your body
I’m receiving this reward.
And yet my act of honouring you
was in the eyes of thinking people good.
°[Because if children I was mother to,
or if a husband lay there dead and rotting,
I would not have taken on this labour
in defiance of the city’s will.
What is the principle that I observe in saying this?
Suppose I had a husband who was dead,
there still could be another;
and I could still produce a child[910]
born of another man, if I had lost this one.
But, with my mother and my father
dead and down below, there is no way
another brother ever could be born.]
It’s in accordance with this principle
I paid you this especial honour.
But Creon thinks that I did reckless wrong,
my dearest brother.
So now he’s taken me by force, and leads me off,
me with no wedding-bed, no wedding-song,
without my share of marriage or of raising children.
But no, like this, bereft of friends, I make my way
alive into a dug-out cavern of the dead. 920
What justice of the gods have I transgressed?
But why continue looking to the gods?
What allies can I still invoke in prayer,
since I am singled out as wrong
for doing what was right?
Well, if this wins approval from the gods,
then through my suffering I’ll come
to recognize my error:
but if it’s these ones here who are in error,
may their pain turn out no less
than that unjustly visited on me.
Still the same tempestuous storm-gusts
keep their hold upon her spirit. 930
That is why these warders will be
sorry they respond so slowly.
That command means death is very near. . . .
I have nothing else to offer:
this is what is going to happen.
The guards begin to take Antigone off.
O my city, and ancestral
Theban gods here, I am being
taken, and can stay no longer.
Look upon this, Theban elders— 940
me the last of this royal bloodline;
see what kind of man has made me
suffer, and for standing upright
holding on to what is right.
Exit Antigone, with guards, in the direction of the plain; Creon stays on.
°Danae had to endure
leaving the light of the skies,
and having her body immured
inside a cell bound with bronze sides.
She was constrained and secured
within a tomb-room, my child,
although she was noble, and cared
for Zeus-seed flowing with gold. 950
Fate has a dread kind of power,
such that there’s nothing escapes,
not battle, nor wealth, nor high tower,
nor blackened sea-beaten ships.
°And Dionysus confined
Lycurgus to make him atone
for ill-tempered rage that defied
the god; shut in a prison of stone.
Slowly the froth of his rage
dripped till his madness was spent; 960
then he recognized how he had strayed
by insulting the god with mad taunts.
He tried to have women inspired
by the god restrained and suppressed,
and to quench Dionysian fire,
insulting the pipes of the Muse.
°And at Thracian Salmydessus
by the Black Sea’s narrow strait, 970
there the cruel wife of Phineus
blackened her two step-sons’ sight,
casting an accursed darkness
on their eyeballs’ vengeful look,
mutilated, hands all bloodstained,
by her shuttle’s pointed spike.
So they withered in their sorrow,
Cleopatra’s blinded twins,
sons from her disastrous marriage. 980
She was born from ancient kings,°
nurtured in the North Wind’s caverns,
flying proudly high and wild,
race of gods. And yet the age-old
Fates oppressed her too, my child.
Tiresias has arrived unobtrusively from the city side, led by a servant.
Elders of Thebes, the two of us
have made our way here with one set of eyes—
the blind find out their pathway through their guide. 990
Well, old Tiresias, what is your news?
I shall instruct you. And you should obey the prophet.
I never have dissented from your judgement in the past.
And that is how you’ve kept this city safe on course.
I can confirm your value from experience.
Think hard: you’re on the razor’s edge.
What do you mean? I shudder at your tone.
You’ll know from hearing what my art conveys.
Already as I took my seat upon the ancient place
for divination, where I have my refuge for all kinds of birds,° 1000
I could detect their unfamiliar sound
as they were screeching with unnatural frenzy.
I knew that they were ripping at each other with their talons
as the whirring of their wings was unmistakable.
Alarmed, I set about enquiry through burnt sacrifice,
and lit the tinder all around the altar;
but no flame took hold upon the offerings,
instead a murky liquid oozed out from the meat
upon the ash and made it smoke and hiss.
The gall was spattered, and the joints of meat 1010
lay bare without the fat which trickled off from them.
This is the way the rituals refused to yield
prophetic signs, as I discovered from this boy,
who is my leader just as I lead others.
And it is your will that makes the city sick like this,
because the altars and the sacrificial pits are clogged
with carrion torn by dogs and birds from off
the wretched body of the son of Oedipus.
And so the gods are not accepting prayers from us, 1020
nor sacrificial smoke from meat.
[Nor does the bird bescreech intelligible cries,
as they have feasted on the fat of human blood.]°
Please give hard thought to this, my son—
all human beings make mistakes sometimes;
and, when one does, it does not mean
he has to go on being foolish or unfortunate
if he sets out to remedy the trouble he has fallen in,
and does not stay immovable—
it’s stubbornness that earns a verdict of stupidity.
So give way to the dead,
and don’t keep stabbing one who’s down.
What bravery is there in continuing to kill the dead? 1030
I mean good will to you when I say this;
It’s a delight to learn from someone
who gives good advice if it brings gain.
Old man, you all of you let fly at me like archers
at a target—even with your prophecies.
I’ve long been bought and sold, negotiated, by your sort.
Pile up your gains, import electron coins
from Sardis,° gold from India, go on:
but, no, you shall not cloak that body
in the grave—not even if high Zeus’s eagles 1040
want to snatch it up and bear the carrion to his throne,
not even then would I be scared by this miasma
into letting him have burial.
I don’t believe a human has the power
to pass pollution to the gods.
Even the cleverest people, old Tiresias,
fall down in ugly ways when, out to make some gain,
they dress up ugly allegations in fine words.
That’s bad. Does anybody know, or think . . .
Think what? What universal truth do you proclaim?
. . . how judgement is the greatest thing one can possess. 1050
Yes, just as much as foolish thinking does the greatest harm.
Well, that’s the illness you’re infected with.
I do not want to cast abuse back at the seer.
And yet you do when you condemn my prophecy as false.
Because all prophets are a money-grasping clan.
And tyrants also love corrupted ways of getting rich.
You realize it is your chief you are abusing?
I do. In fact it’s thanks to me you’ve kept this city safe.
You are a clever prophet, but too fond of going wrong.
You’ll stir me into saying things I’m keeping undisclosed. 1060
Go on, disclose! Don’t speak for payment, though.
Is that what you believe I have been doing?
You’ll never buy and sell my judgement, that’s for sure.
°And you can be assured of this:
the sun shall not run many circuits more
before you shall have given one from your own blood,
a corpse in recompense for corpses.
This is to pay for thrusting down below
a human from this world above,
resettling a living spirit in the tomb,
whilst also keeping here above 1070
a corpse belonging to the gods below,
unportioned and unburied and unhallowed.
Yet these things are not for you to regulate,
nor for the gods above: they have been
violently displaced through your command.
So spirits of destruction, late to strike,
are waiting for you, powers of Hades and the gods;
so that you will be caught up in these selfsame wrongs.
Now look and see if I’ve been overlaid with silver—
this will be revealed through wear and tear
by men and women mourning in your house.°
°[And all the cities are becoming agitated[1080]
in resentment, where the dogs and beasts
and birds have swallowed bits of corpses,
spreading the polluted stink into the smoke from altars.]
So, since you’ve wounded me, in anger
I have aimed these arrows straight at you;
and you shall not be able to elude their sting.
(to his servant) My boy, now take me home,
and leave this one to vent his rage on younger men.
Then he may learn to cultivate a softer tone
and better cast of mind than he has now. 1090
Tiresias is led back towards the city.
The man has gone, my lord, with terrifying prophecies.
Yet ever since my hair first turned to white from black,
I’ve never known him utter to our city
any warning that was false.
I know, and I am much perturbed.
While giving in is terrible,
to let my firm resolve come crashing down in ruins
would be so as well.
Son of Menoeceus, you must summon wisdom.
What should I do then?
Tell me and I’ll follow your advice.
Go, let the girl free from her deep-dug cell, 1100
and organize the burial of the body lying there.
You mean you recommend: that I give way?
As quickly as you can, my lord.
The gods’ reprisals cut short those who cling to wrong.
It’s hard, but I must let go of my heart’s resolve.
No good to fight against what has to be.
Then do it, and don’t delegate to others.
Yes, I shall go, just as I am.
Come on, come on, attendants far and wide,
bring heavy tools and hurry to that place in view. 1110
And I—now that my judgement has been overturned—
I shall be there myself, the one who closed her up,
to undo what’s been done.
I’m coming to suspect that it is best
to go through life still keeping
to the long-established laws.
Exit Creon with attendants, towards the plain.
°O god of many names, we call on you,
the son of Theban maid and thunderer Zeus.°
You range through Italy,° and have your power
within Demeter’s folds, hospitable 1120
Eleusis’ holy shrine°—O Baccheus, come!
Your birthplace-home is Thebes, the mother-town
of bacchants, here beside Ismenus’ flow
and dragon-meadow where the teeth were sown.
The torch’s blazing light has sighted you
above the double crests of Delphi’s heights,
where the Corycian nymphs go dancing, source
of the Castalian stream;° and ivy slopes 1130
of Nysa° by the coast grown thick with grapes—
all these domains of yours are sending you
to where your followers raise ritual shouts,
assembling to protect our Theban streets.
Thebes among all others
is the city you honour most,
here beside your mother
who was struck by the lightning bolt.°
Now her people suffer 1140
from attacks of malign disease,
so across Parnassus
or over the sounding seas
come to purify us,
and to grant us a pure release.
Cosmic chorus-leader
of the stars breathing fiery light,
and divine protector
as your worshippers sing by night,
great progeny of Zeus,
come, appear now—compassionate
epiphany—before us,
with your maenads who through the night 1150
dance and sing their chorus
as they celebrate your rite.°
An attendant of Creon hurries on as messenger from the side of the plain.
You citizens of Thebes,
I say there is no state of human life
that I would ever praise or criticize as fixed.
For constantly chance lifts and chance tips down
to make the fortunate unfortunate and back again;
so nobody can prophesy what stands as firm for humans. 1160
Take Creon.
He was enviable, so far as I could tell:
he’d saved this land of Thebes from enemies;
he’d taken over total sovereign power;
he flourished with fine children. . . .
And now that’s gone, all gone.
For when delight has left a man deserted,
I would not count him as alive—
more like a corpse with breath.
Build up great wealth, go on, and live in regal style;
but if the joy has gone from this, 1170
I wouldn’t give smoke’s shadow for the rest,
not set against delight in life.
What’s this new grief you bring our royal house?
They’re dead. And it’s the living are to blame.
Who is the killer? Who the victim? Tell.
It’s Haemon dead, blood shed by his own blood.
D’you mean his father did it? Or he killed himself?
By his own hand, in fury at his father.
Prophet, your words have turned out all too true!
Therefore you should consider what to do.
But here I see Eurydice,° poor wife of Creon. 1180
Is it chance she’s coming out of doors,
or has she heard about her son?
Eurydice has entered from the palace door.
Good citizens, I heard some talk as I was coming out
to go and supplicate Athena with my prayers.
I was unfastening the door-bolts when some news
of troubles for this household reached my ears,
so that I fainted back into my women’s arms.
Yet tell again whatever that news was— 1190
I’m well experienced in grief.°
I was right there, dear mistress,
and I’ll not pass over any word of truth.
What would be the point of reassuring you
when later I’ll be seen to have been lying?
Truth is always best.
I attended on your husband to the far edge of the plain,
to where the corpse of Polynices,
torn about by dogs, unpitied, lay.
With prayers to Hecate and Hades 1200
to be kind and hold their anger back,
we washed him with pure water,
and then burnt his last remains
upon a pyre of new-cut brushwood.
When we’d heaped his mound of native earth,
we moved towards the bridal-chamber
of the maiden with its bed of rock.
From far away we heard loud crying sounds
that echoed round that cursèd portico,
and went to warn our master Creon.
As he came nearer, incoherent cries of grief 1210
engulfed him, and he cried aloud in anguish:
‘Ah, am I to be the prophet then?
Am I upon the most disastrous path I’ve ever trod?
That’s my son’s voice that’s greeting me.
Come, servants, hurry close and peer
into the tomb—go through the hole there
where the wall of stones has been torn down.°
See if I’m right to recognize that voice as Haemon’s,
or if I am deluded by the gods.’
So following our master’s anxious words,
we went and looked. 1220
There in the furthest corner of the tomb we saw her,
hanging from a fastened noose of linen cloth.
And him beside, embracing her around the waist,
lamenting for his marriage-partner killed
and gone below, and for his father’s actions,
and his own unhappy union.
When Creon saw, he went towards him
calling in a dreadful, pleading tone:
‘O no, what have you done?
What were you thinking?
What is it has so maddened you?
Come out, my son, I beg of you.’ 1230
His son just glared at him, wild-eyed,
and, making no reply, spat in his face;
then drew his two-edged sword,
but, as his father hurried to escape,
he missed his blow.
And there and then the poor boy, angry with himself,
hard braced his body on the blade,
and plunged it half its length into his side.
Then, still alive, he took the woman in his arms
and clung to her; with gasps he showered spurts
of crimson blood upon her pallid cheek.
His body lies enfolded with her body, 1240
so the poor man has fulfilled his wedding rites
below in Hades’ house.
He’s surely demonstrated how bad thinking
is for humans far the worst of faults.
°Eurydice goes indoors.
What do you make of this? The lady has gone back
indoors without a word of any kind.
I am surprised as well. My hope is that,
on hearing of her son’s last agonies,
she did not want to make a mournful noise in public,
but indoors will have her maids raise cries
of lamentation for this family grief.
She has the sense to keep clear of committing wrong. 1250
I’m not so sure. To me excessive silence
seems as serious as too much crying out aloud.
I’ll find out if she’s holding back some hidden impulse
by going in myself. You’re right
that extreme silence may be ominous.
Messenger goes inside, as Creon approaches from the direction of the plain with the body of Haemon.
°Here the king himself is coming,
carrying a clear reminder,
to be honest, of his downfall—
his and no one else’s error. 1260
Mistakes of my ill-judged judgement
inflexible, deathwards tending!
You see kindred killed and killer,
disaster of my mis-thinking.
(cry of distress, then to the dead Haemon)
You lie dead, your young life ended
through my, not your, ill thinking.
Too late, it seems, you’ve understood what’s right. 1270
Yes, I have learnt from my mistakes.
Back then a god beat on my head with heavy blows,
and threw me far off course on savage tracks,
and so has overturned and trampled on my joys.
Such pain on pain weighs down our human ways.
The messenger-attendant re-enters from the house.
You have, my lord, one burden and you will get more.
The one you carry in your arms,
and soon you shall set eyes upon
the other sorrow in your house. 1280
What can there be that’s yet more terrible to add?
Your wife, true mother of this corpse,
lies dead from stabs just dealt.
O harbour of death, undraining,
why more and more, why destroy me?
Bad-news-bringer, what new sorrow?
You crush a man down already.
(cry of distress)
What’s this increased disaster— 1290
my wife heaped on the slaughter?
°The body of Eurydice is brought out.
See for yourself; her body is no more indoors.
Here is a second soul-destroying sight.
Can there, can there be any further doom in wait?
It was just now my arms took up my son,
and here I see her lying dead before my feet.
Unhappy mother and poor child, both gone. 1300
Before the altar <she took up a sword
and pierced herself> upon its sharpened point.°
As darkness fell upon her eyes,
she cried out for the glorious fate
of Megareus,° the son who died before,
and then for Haemon here;
and with her dying breaths she sang the litany
of your wrong deeds that killed your child.
I’m whirled aloft with dread.
Why doesn’t somebody
take up a sharp-edged blade
and strike me fatally?
I’m steeped in bitter pain,
infused with misery. 1310
Indeed this woman here, now dead,
denounced you for this death and those before.
How was it that she brought about her end?
When she had heard her son’s appalling fate,
with her own hand she stabbed deep in herself.
The blame for this cannot be pinned
on someone else. I am the one.
For I killed you, yes you I killed—
truth must be told. My servants, take, 1320
take me to far away, and quick,
the man who is no more alive
than somebody who does not breathe.
That’s well advised, if there is any good in such bad times.
Best to be brief when troubles strew the way.
Please come, O let it come,
the finest fate for me,
far best, my final day. 1330
O let it come, please come,
so that I never see
another shining day.
°That is the future: it’s the present calls for action.
Matters must be left to those who should take care of them.
But I have prayed for everything that I desire.
Then pray no more. There’s no release for humans
from events that have to be.
Please take away this empty man,
who did not mean to kill you, son, 1340
and you as well, my wife, my own.
I don’t know where to point my sight,
nor where to lean. For every deed
I take in hand skews off from straight.
Cruel fate has swooped down on my head.
Attendants take Creon and the two bodies indoors.
Wisdom is the first prescription
for good living: never rashly
spurn the gods. Disdainful language 1350
gets repaid with painful lashes,
teaching us in old age wisdom.
The chorus go off in the direction of the city.