**SCENE IV**
CHORAGOS: [*As ANTIGONE enters guarded.*]
But I can no longer stand in awe of this,
Nor, seeing what I see, keep back my tears.
Here is Antigone, pa**ing to that chamber
Where all find sleep at last 660
ANTIGONE: Look upon me, friends, and pity me
Turning back at the night's edge to say
Good-by to the sun that shines for me no longer;
Now sleepy d**h
Summons me down to Acheron,
That cold shore:
There is no bridesong there, nor any music.
CHORUS:
Yet not unpraised, not without a kind of honor,
You walk at last into the underworld;
Untouched by sickness, broken by no sword.
What woman has ever found your way to d**h?ANTIGONE:
[Antistrophe 1]
How often I have heard the store of Niobe,6
Tantalos' wretched daughter, how the stone
Clung fast about her, ivy-close: and they say
The rain falls endlessly
And rifting soft snow; her tears are never done.
I feel the loneliness of her d**h in mine.
CHORUS:
But she was born of heaven, and you
Are woman, woman-born. If her d**h is yours,
A mortal woman's, is this not for you
Glory in our world and in the world beyond?
ANTIGONE:
You laugh at me. Ah, friends, friends,
Can you not wait until I am dead? O Thebes,
O men many-charioted, in love with Fortune,
Dear spring of Dirce, sacred Theban grove,
Be witnesses for me, denied all pity,
Unjustly judge! and think a word of love
For her whose path turns
Under dark earth, where there are no more tears.
CHORUS:
You have pa**ed beyond human daring and come at last
Into a place of stone where Justice sits 690
I cannot tell
What shape of your father's guilt appears in this.
ANTIGONE:
[Antistrophe 2]
You have touched it at last: that bridal bed
Unspeakable, horror of son an mother mingling:
Their crime, infection of all our family!
O Oedipus, father and brother!
Your marriage strikes from the grave to murder mine.
I have been a stranger here in my own land:
All my life
The blasphemy of my birth has followed me.
CHORUS:
Reverence is a virtue, but strength
Lives in established law: that must prevail.
You have made your choice,
Your d**h is the doing of your conscious hand.
ANTIGONE:
[Epode]
Then let me go, since all your words are bitter,
And the very light of the sun is cold to me.
Lead me to my vigil, where I must have
Neither love nor lamentation; no song, but silence.
[*CREON interrupts impatiently.*]
CREON:
If dirges and planned lamentations could put of d**h,
Men would be singing for ever.
[*To the SERVANTS:*]
Take her, go!
You know your orders: take her to the vault
And leave her alone there. And if she lives or dies,
That's her affair, not ours: our hands are clean.
ANTIGONE:
O tomb, vaulted bride-bed in eternal rock,
Soon I shall be with my own again
Where Persephone
Welcome the thin ghost underground:
And I shall see my father again, and you, mother,
And dearest Polyneices––
Dearest indeed
To me, since it was my hand
That washed him clean and poured the ritual wine:
And my reward is d**h before my time!
And yet, as men's hearts know, I have done no wrong,
I have not sinned before God. Or if I have,
I shall know the truth in d**h. But if the guilt
Lies upon Creon who judged me, then, I pray,
May his punishment equal my own.
CHORAGOS:
O pa**ionate heart,
Unyielding, tormented still by the same winds!
CREON:
Her guards shall have good cause to regret their delaying.
ANTIGONE:
Ah! That voice you no reason to think voice of d**h!
CREON:
I can give you no reason to think you are mistaken.
ANTIGONE:
Thebes, and you my fathers' gods,
And rulers of Thebes, you see me now, the last
Unhappy daughter of a line of kings,
Your kings, led away to d**h. You will remember
What things I suffer, and at what men's hands,
Because I would not transgress the laws of heaven.
[*To the GUARDS, simply:*]
Come: let us wait no longer.
[*Exit ANTIGONE, L., guarded.*]**ODE IV**CHORUS:[Strophe 1]
All Danae's beauty was locked away
In a brazen cell where the sunlight could not come:
A small room, still as any grave, enclosed her.
Yet she was a princess too,
And Zeus in a rain of gold poured love upon her.
O child, child,
No power in wealth or war
Or tough sea-blackened ships
Can prevail against untiring Destiny![Antistrophe 1]
And Dryas' son
Also, that furious king,
Bore the god's prisoning anger for his pride:
Sealed up by Dionysos in deaf stone,
His madness died among echoes.
So at the last he learned what dreadful power
His tongue had mocked:
For he had profaned the revels,
And fired the wrath of the nine
Implacable Sisters
That love the sound of the flute.[Strophe 2]
And old men tell a half-remembered tale
Of horror done where a dark ledge splits the sea
And a double surf beats on the gray shores:
How a king's new woman, sick
With hatred for the queen he had imprisoned,
Ripped out his two son's eyes with her bloody hands
While grinning Ares watched the shuttle plunge
Four times: four blind wounds crying for revenge,[Antistrophe 2]
Crying, tears and blood mingled, ––Piteously born,
Those sons whose mother was of heavenly birth!
Her father was the god of the North Wind
And she was cradled by gales,
She raced with young colts on the glittering hills
And walked untrammeled in the open light:
But in her marriage d**hless Fate found means
To build a tomb like yours for all her joy.