Delphi Complete Works of Sophocles

by Sophocles

  Which remedy, I perceive, will pass ere long

  To visit thee, unless thy wisdom grow;

  Who hast uttered forth such daring insolence

  For the pale shadow of a vanished man.

  Learn modestly to know thy place and birth,

  And bring with thee some freeborn advocate

  To plead thy cause before us in thy room.

  [1262-1300] I understand not in the barbarous tongue,

  And all thy talk sounds nonsense to mine ear.

  CH. Would ye might both have sense to curb your ire!

  No better hope for either can I frame.

  TEU. Fie! How doth gratitude when men are dead

  Prove renegade and swiftly pass away!

  This Agamemnon hath no slightest word

  Of kind remembrance any more for thee,

  Aias, who oftentimes for his behoof

  Hast jeoparded thy life in labour of war.

  Now all is clean forgotten and out of mind.

  Thou who hast multiplied words void of sense,

  Hast thou no faintest memory of the time

  When who but Aias came and rescued you

  Already locked within the toils, — all lost,

  The rout began: when close abaft the ships

  The torches flared, and o’er the bootless trench

  Hector was bounding high to board our fleet?

  Who stayed that onset? Was not Aias he?

  Whom thou deny’st to have once set foot by thine.

  Find ye no merit there? And once again

  When he met Hector singly, man to man,

  Not by your bidding, but the lottery’s choice,

  His lot, that skulked not low adown i’ the heap,

  A moist earth-clod, but sure to spring in air,

  And first to clear the plumy helmet’s brim.

  Yes, Aias was the man, and I too there

  Kept rank, the ‘barbarous mother’s servile son.’

  I pity thee the blindness of that word.

  Who was thy father’s father? A barbarian,

  Pelops, the Phrygian, if you trace him far!

  And what was Atreus, thine own father? One

  Who served his brother with the abominable

  Dire feast of his own flesh. And thou thyself

  Cam’st from a Cretan mother, whom her sire

  Caught with a man who had no right in her

  And gave dumb fishes the polluted prey.

  Such was thy race. What is the race thou spurnest?

  My father, Telamon, of all the host

  Being foremost proved in valour, took as prize

  [1301-1337] My mother for his mate: a princess she,

  Born of Laomedon; Alcmena’s son

  Gave her to grace him — a triumphant meed.

  Thus royally descended and thus brave,

  Shall I renounce the brother of my blood,

  Or suffer thee to thrust him in his woes

  Far from all burial, shameless that thou art?

  Be sure that, if ye cast him forth, ye’ll cast

  Three bodies more beside him in one spot;

  For nobler should I find it here to die

  In open quarrel for my kinsman’s weal,

  Than for thy wife — or Menelaüs’, was ‘t?

  Consider then, not my case, but your own.

  For if you harm me you will wish some day

  To have been a coward rather than dare me.

  CH. Hail, Lord Odysseus! thou art come in time

  Not to begin, but help to end, a fray.

  Enter ODYSSEUS.

  OD. What quarrel, sirs? I well perceived from far

  The kings high-voicing o’er the valiant dead.

  AG. Yea, Lord Odysseus, for our ears are full

  Of this man’s violent heart-offending talk.

  OD. What words have passed? I cannot blame the man

  Who meets foul speech with bitterness of tongue.

  AG. My speech was bitter, for his deeds were foul.

  OD. What deed of his could harm thy sovereign head?

  AG. He boldly says this corse shall not be left

  Unburied, but he’ll bury it in our spite.

  OD. May I then speak true counsel to my friend,

  And pull with thee in policy as of yore?

  AG. Speak. I were else a madman; for no friend

  Of all the Argeians do I count thy peer.

  OD. Then hear me in Heaven’s name! Be not so hard

  Thus without ruth tombless to cast him forth;

  Nor be so vanquished by a vehement will,

  That to thy hate even Justice’ self must bow.

  I, too, had him for my worst enemy,

  Since I gained mastery o’er Pelides’ arms.

  [1338-1373] But though he used me so, I ne’er will grudge

  For his proud scorn to yield him thus much honour,

  That, save Achilles’ self, I have not seen

  So noble an Argive on the fields of Troy.

  Then ‘twere not just in thee to slight him now;

  Nor would thy treatment wound him, but confound

  The laws of Heaven. No hatred should have scope

  To offend the noble spirits of the dead.

  AG. Wilt thou thus fight against me on his side?

  OD. Yea, though I hated him, while hate was comely.

  AG. Why, thou shouldst trample him the more, being dead.

  OD. Rejoice not, King, in feats that soil thy fame!

  AG. ’Tis hard for power to observe each pious rule.

  OD. Not hard to grace the good words of a friend.

  AG. The ‘noble spirit’ should hearken to command.

  OD. No more! ’Tis conquest to be ruled by love.

  AG. Remember what he was thou gracest so.

  OD. A noisome enemy; but his life was great.

  AG. And wilt thou honour such a pestilent corse?

  OD. Hatred gives way to magnanimity.

  AG. With addle-pated fools.

  OD. Full many are found

  Friends for an hour, yet bitter in the end.

  AG. And wouldst thou have us gentle to such friends?

  OD. I would not praise ungentleness in aught.

  AG. We shall be known for weaklings through thy counsel.

  OD. Not so, but righteous in all Grecian eyes.

  AG. Thou bidst me then let bury this dead man?

  OD. I urge thee to the course myself shall follow.

  AG. Ay, every man for his own line! That holds.

  OD. Why not for my own line? What else were natural?

  AG. ‘Twill be thy doing then, ne’er owned by me.

  OD. Own it or not, the kindness is the same.

  AG. Well, for thy sake I’d grant a greater boon;

  Then why not this? However, rest assured

  That in the grave or out of it, Aias still

  Shall have my hatred. Do thou what thou wilt.[Exit

  [1374-1407] CH. Whoso would sneer at thy philosophy,

  While such thy ways, Odysseus, were a fool.

  OD. And now let Teucer know that from this hour

  I am more his friend than I was once his foe,

  And fain would help him in this burial-rite

  And service to his brother, nor would fail

  In aught that mortals owe their noblest dead.

  TEU. Odysseus, best of men, thine every word

  Hath my heart’s praise, and my worst thought of thee

  Is foiled by thy staunch kindness to the man

  Who was thy rancorous foe. Thou wast not keen

  To insult in present of his corse, like these,

  The insensate general and his brother-king,

  Who came with proud intent to cast him forth

  Foully debarred from lawful obsequy.

  Wherefore may he who rules in yon wide heaven,

  And the unforgetting Fury-spirit, and she,

  Justice, who crowns the right, so ruin them

&nb
sp; With cruellest destruction, even as they

  Thought ruthlessly to rob him of his tomb!

  For thee, revered Laërtes’ lineal seed,

  I fear to admit thy hand unto this rite,

  Lest we offend the spirit that is gone.

  But for the rest, I hail thy proffered aid;

  And bring whom else thou wilt, I’ll ne’er resent it.

  This work shall be my single care; but thou,

  Be sure I love thee for thy generous heart.

  OD. I had gladly done it; but, since thou declinest,

  I bow to thy decision, and depart.[Exit

  TEU. Speed we, for the hour grows late:

  Some to scoop his earthy cell,

  Others by the cauldron wait,

  Plenished from the purest well.

  Hoist it, comrades, here at hand,

  High upon the three-foot stand!

  Let the cleansing waters flow;

  Brightly flame the fire below!

  Others in a stalwart throng

  From his chamber bear along

  [1408-1419] All the arms he wont to wield

  Save alone the mantling shield.

  Thou with me thy strength employ,

  Lifting this thy father, boy;

  Hold his frame with tender heed —

  Still the gashed veins darkly bleed.

  Who professes here to love him?

  Ply your busy cares above him,

  Come and labour for the man,

  Nobler none since time began,

  Aias, while his life-blood ran.

  LEADER OF CH. Oft we know not till we see.

  Weak is human prophecy.

  Judge not, till the hour have taught thee

  What the destinies have brought thee.

  ANTIGONE

  Translated by F. Storr

  Though chronologically it is the last of Sophocles’ three Theban plays, Antigone was written first, before 441 BC, and the narrative picks up where Aeschylus’ Seven Against Thebes ends. Before the beginning of the play, two brothers leading opposite sides in Thebes’ civil war died fighting each other for the throne. Creon, the new ruler of Thebes, has decided that Eteocles will be honoured and Polyneices will held be in public shame. The rebel brother’s body will not be sanctified by holy rites and will lie unburied on the battlefield, as prey for carrion animals like worms and vultures, generally considered the harshest punishment at the time.

  At the opening of the play, Antigone and Ismene, the sisters of the dead Polyneices and Eteocles, meet secretly outside the palace gates late at night. Antigone wants to bury Polyneices’ body, in defiance of Creon’s edict. Ismene refuses to help her, fearing the death penalty, but she is unable to stop Antigone from going to bury her brother herself, causing Antigone to disown her.

  Creon enters, along with the Chorus of Theban Elders. He seeks their support in the days to come, and in particular wants them to back his edict regarding the disposal of Polyneices’ body. The Chorus of Elders pledges their support. A Sentry enters, fearfully reporting that the body has been buried. A furious Creon orders the Sentry to find the culprit or face death himself. The Sentry leaves and the Chorus sings about honouring the gods, but after a short absence he returns, bringing Antigone with him. The Sentry explains that the watchmen exhumed Polyneices’ body and they caught Antigone as she buried him again. Creon questions her after sending the Sentry off, and she does not deny what she has done. She argues unflinchingly with Creon about the morality of the edict and the morality of her actions. Creon becomes furious, and, thinking Ismene must have known of Antigone’s plan, seeing her upset, summons the girl. Ismene tries to confess falsely to the crime, wishing to die alongside her sister, but Antigone will not have it. Creon orders that the two women be temporarily imprisoned.

  Haemon, Creon's son, enters to pledge allegiance to his father, even though he is engaged to Antigone. He initially seems willing to forsake Antigone, but when Haemon gently tries to persuade his father to spare Antigone, claiming that 'under cover of darkness the city mourns for the girl', the discussion deteriorates and the two men are soon bitterly insulting each other. Haemon leaves, vowing never to see Creon again.

  Creon decides to spare Ismene and to bury Antigone alive in a cave. She is brought out of the house, and she bewails her fate and defends her actions one last time. She is taken away to her living tomb, with the Chorus expressing great sorrow for what is going to happen to her. Tiresias, the blind prophet, enters. He warns Creon that Polyneices should now be urgently buried because the gods are displeased, refusing to accept any sacrifices or prayers from Thebes. Creon accuses Tiresias of being corrupt. Tiresias responds that because of Creon's mistakes, he will lose "a son of [his] own loins"[2] for the crimes of leaving Polyneices unburied and putting Antigone into the earth (he does not say that Antigone should not be condemned to death, only that it is improper to keep a living body underneath the earth). All of Greece will despise him, and the sacrificial offerings of Thebes will not be accepted by the gods. The Chorus, terrified, asks Creon to take their advice. He assents, and they tell him that he should free Antigone and bury Polyneices. Creon, shaken, agrees to do it. He leaves with a retinue of men to help him right his previous mistakes. The Chorus delivers a choral ode to the god Dionysus (god of wine and of the theatre; this part is the offering to their patron god), and then a Messenger enters to tell them that Haemon has killed himself. Eurydice, Creon's wife and Haemon's mother, enters and asks the Messenger to tell her everything. The Messenger reports that Haemon and Antigone have both taken their own lives, Antigone by hanging herself, and Haemon by stabbing himself after finding the body, just after Polyneices was buried. Eurydice disappears into the palace.

  Creon enters, carrying Haemon's body. He understands that his own actions have caused these events. A Second Messenger arrives to tell Creon and the Chorus that Eurydice has killed herself. With her last breath, she cursed her husband. Creon blames himself for everything that has happened, and, a broken man, he asks his servants to help him inside. The order he valued so much has been protected, and he is still the king, but he has acted against the gods and lost his child and his wife as a result. The Chorus closes by saying that although the gods punish the proud, punishment brings wisdom.

  Antigone was written at a time of national fervour. In 441 BC, shortly after the play was released, Sophocles was appointed as one of the ten generals to lead a military expedition against Samos. It is notable that a prominent play in a time of such imperialism contains little political propaganda, no impassioned apostrophe, and few references to Athens. Rather than become distracted with the issues of the time, Antigone remains focused on the characters and themes within the play. It does, however, expose the dangers of the absolute ruler, or tyrant, in the person of Creon, a king to whom few will speak freely and openly their true opinions, and who therefore makes the grievous error of condemning Antigone, an act which he pitifully regrets in the play’s final lines. Athenians, proud of their democratic tradition, would have identified his error in the many lines of dialog which emphasize that the people of Thebes believe he is wrong, but have no voice to tell him so. Athenians would identify the folly of tyranny.

  The chorus in Antigone departs significantly from the chorus in Aeschylus’ Seven Against Thebes, the play of which Antigone is a continuation. The chorus in Aeschylus’ play is largely supportive of Antigone’s decision to bury her brother. Here, the chorus is composed of old men who are largely unwilling to see civil disobedience in a positive light. The chorus also represents a typical difference in Sophocles’ plays from those of both Aeschylus and Euripides. A chorus of Aeschylus almost always continues or intensifies the moral nature of the play, while one of Euripides frequently strays far from the main moral theme. The chorus in Antigone lies somewhere in between; it remains within the general moral and the immediate scene, but allows itself to be carried away from the occasion or the initial reason for speaking.

  ‘Antigone
in front of the dead Polyneices’ by Nikiforos Lytras

  CONTENTS

  ARGUMENT

  DRAMATIS PERSONAE

  ANTIGONE

  Bust of Sophocles now in the Farnese Collection in the Pushkin Museum

  ARGUMENT

  Antigone, daughter of Oedipus, the late king of Thebes, in defiance of Creon who rules in his stead, resolves to bury her brother Polyneices, slain in his attack on Thebes. She is caught in the act by Creon’s watchmen and brought before the king. She justifies her action, asserting that she was bound to obey the eternal laws of right and wrong in spite of any human ordinance. Creon, unrelenting, condemns her to be immured in a rock-hewn chamber. His son Haemon, to whom Antigone is betrothed, pleads in vain for her life and threatens to die with her. Warned by the seer Teiresias Creon repents him and hurries to release Antigone from her rocky prison. But he is too late: he finds lying side by side Antigone who had hanged herself and Haemon who also has perished by his own hand. Returning to the palace he sees within the dead body of his queen who on learning of her son’s death has stabbed herself to the heart.

  DRAMATIS PERSONAE

  ANTIGONE and ISMENE — daughters of Oedipus and sisters of Polyneices

  and Eteocles.

  CREON, King of Thebes.

  HAEMON, Son of Creon, betrothed to Antigone.

  EURYDICE, wife of Creon.

  TEIRESIAS, the prophet.

  CHORUS, of Theban elders.

  A WATCHMAN

  A MESSENGER

  A SECOND MESSENGER

  ANTIGONE

  ANTIGONE and ISMENE before the Palace gates.

  ANTIGONE

  Ismene, sister of my blood and heart,

  See’st thou how Zeus would in our lives fulfill

  The weird of Oedipus, a world of woes!

  For what of pain, affliction, outrage, shame,

  Is lacking in our fortunes, thine and mine?

  And now this proclamation of today

  Made by our Captain-General to the State,

  What can its purport be? Didst hear and heed,

  Or art thou deaf when friends are banned as foes?

  ISMENE

  To me, Antigone, no word of friends

  Has come, or glad or grievous, since we twain

  Were reft of our two brethren in one day