University of Virginia Library

SCENE THE THIRD.

Creon, Eteocles, Jocasta, Antigone.
Cre.
Whither, oh sister, dost thou bend thy steps?
The paths are intercepted; and the gates
Of Thebes are closed 'gainst the besieging foes.
The walls with armed men on every side
Encompass'd; horrid sight! Before the rest,
A bow-shot from the troops, comes Polinices
Towards the city gates, all unattended.
The vizor of his helmet raised, he spreads
Towards us one powerless hand, and with the other
Bends towards the earth the point of his drawn sword.
With gesture such as this, audaciously
Admission for himself, and not for others,
Within the walls of Thebes he challenges;
Invokes his mother's name, and makes profession
Of an impatient wish to ask her blessing.

Ete.
This is a new wish truly! with drawn swords
T'invoke the embrace of an offended mother.

Joc.
But didst thou not, oh Creon, first exhort him
His arms to lay aside? My inmost mind
Is known to thee. Full well thou art assured
I could not see, much less embrace a son,
Who comes with sword in hand to brave his brother.

Cre.
His words breathe nothing but respect and peace.
Nor do his troops with military license
Run through our fields: From the resounding bow
The barbed arrow has not hissed through air;
Nor has an Argive weapon tasted yet
A drop of Theban blood. On their swords' hilt
Their right hands rest immoveable; each warrior
Is sway'd by Polinices; thou might'st hear
A confused murmur through the camp, which cries,
“Peace to the Thebans, and to Thebes.”

Ete.
Indeed!
This most assuredly will be to you
An honourable peace. Does then my brother
'Gainst me alone this enterprise prepare?
'Tis well: and I alone accept the challenge.

Ant.
But, notwithstanding, if he speak of peace,
Let us first hear him ...

Joc.
Let him be admitted
Alone within the gates: I will speak with him;
Nor can'st thou interdict it.

Cre.
If he bring
No treacherous influence with him—but I fear—

Ant.
His soul's a stranger to the arts of treason.

Ete.
Truly thou know'st him well! It seems to me
That thou art acquainted with his inmost mind.
Perhaps you concur in thoughts as well as words.

Joc.
Alas! my son, how in these bitter accents
Thy malice ill-disguised breaks forth! To Thebes,
Ah, let him come, and come to my embrace;
There lay his weapons down. Let us, meanwhile,
Go to the temple, and implore for peace.
And did he ask for me? Beloved son,
'Tis a long time since I beheld thee last!
In me alone perhaps; in my immense,
Impartial, and maternal love, has he,
E'en more than in his troops, reposed his hope.
He is indeed my son; he is thy brother:
Betwixt you I alone am arbitress.
For a few moments banish from thy mind
The thoughts of how he has returned to Thebes;
Remember only how he went from thence;
How many years, in spite of thy pledged faith,
Through Greece he wandered: contemplate in him
A prince, a suffering exile, and thy brother.