 | Antigone |  |
SCENE THE FIRST.
Creon, Hæmon.Cre.
But what? Thou only in my joy, oh son,
Takest no part? Thy father thou beholdest
Upon the throne of Thebes; he has secured
The sceptre as thy firm inheritance.
Whence then these lamentations? Dost thou grieve
For Œdipus, or his devoted race?
Hæm.
Does my compassion, then, for Œdipus,
And his descendants, seem to thee a crime?
Oh father, from the throne there issued not,
On the dire day on which thou didst ascend it,
Such an auspicious and absorbing radiance,
At least to my dimm'd eyes, as to dispel
The boding images that flitted round it.
Thou, perhaps, one day may'st bitterly repent
The acquisition of the Theban sceptre.
Cre.
I rather should repent, if need there were
Of penitence, that, for so long a time,
I had submissive been to guilty nephews,
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But if they have, for their atrocious birth,
By a still more atrocious death atoned,
Let everlasting silence be their doom.
Scarce is their destiny fulfill'd, when, lo!
O'er Thebes the day-star more benignly rises,
The air is more serene, the gods themselves
Regard us more propitiously: ah, yes,
I feel exulting hope of better days.
Hæm.
All expectation, but of wretchedness,
Is baffled by th'event, amid the ruin
And death of those, to whom, by ties of blood,
We are most closely join'd. A king of Thebes,
(For King of Thebes he still must be accounted)
Œdipus, exiled, blind, and fugitive,
To universal and astonished Greece,
Presents a spectacle ne'er seen before:
Two brothers, murderers of each other; brothers
Of their own sire; sons of incestuous mother,
Sister to thee, and by her own hands slain:
Thou seest a horrid mixture of all names;
A horrid chaos of distress and slaughter.
Behold the auspices, behold the track,
By which thou hast ascended to the throne.
Ah, father! canst thou possibly be joyful?
Cre.
Œdipus, only, with his longer tarriance
On this contaminated spot, had given
A signal to the vengeance of the gods;
It was our duty to get rid of him.
But thou hast not, without omission, stated
All our afflictions. Impious Œdipus!
What hast thou not cost me? I also shed
Tears for a son beloved; thy elder brother,
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The lying, and pernicious prophecies,
Of a Tiresias, credence did obtain:
Menæceus, to self-sacrifice devoted,
To save his country; by self-murder slain;
While Œdipus yet lives? Perpetual exile
Is a light vengeance for his many crimes.
But let him bear with him to other shores,
That which will follow him where'er he goes,
The malediction of the angry gods.
Our tears will not undo what has been done;
'Tis now our duty to forget the past,
And to grasp fortune, while we may, by force.
Hæm.
Unstable goddess, to secure her smiles
I'll not compel my heart! Oh, father, fear,
For there is cause, the anger of the gods!
Thy cruel prohibition, that prevents
The haughty and unburied shades of Greece
From passing Acheron, will wake their vengeance.
What art thou doing? With prosperity,
And with a throne, elated, know'st thou not
That Polinices boasts a royal birth,
Sprung from a mother who to thee was sister?
And shall he lie dishonour'd on the plain?
At least permit, that the unburied corse
Of him, who is thy nephew, may be burnt.
Ah, to the sad Antigone, who sees
Of all her family the timeless end,
The body yield of her beloved brother.
Cre.
As were her impious brothers, is not she
Of Œdipus the offspring?
Hæm.
As 'twas theirs,
The throne of Thebes by inheritance is hers.
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To barter a dead body?
Cre.
She is my foe ...
Hæm.
Believe it not.
Cre.
Loves she not Polinices?
Her father too? Creon she then abhors.
Hæm.
Wouldst thou, oh heavens! that she should not feel,
Or for her father, or her brothers, pity?
Perhaps, if she were inhuman, she might gain
A more distinguished place in thy esteem.
Cre.
No; not esteem her more, but hate her less.
A monarch should forestall another's hate,
And deem each man a foe that he's offended.
I have from fierce Antigone removed
Every pretext, in banishing her father.
Had they together both in exile gone,
They might have found, as wanderers, a king,
Who, under the affected veil of pity,
Conceal'd a wish his empire to augment;
And who, in their defence, might come to Thebes
As did Adrastes, arm'd. I hear thee blame
My prohibition, son, to which by motives
Deep, yet unfit for thy partaking in them,
I was impell'd. They will be known to thee;
And thou wilt see, that, though it may appear
A cruel law, 'tis indispensable.
Hæm.
The cause unknown to me! dost thou say so?
I fear that thou art ignorant of the effects.
Yes, for her exiled father, for her throne
Usurp'd unjustly, for th'unburied corse
Of Polinices, without seeking it,
Antigone in Thebes may find revenge.
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Murmur, and rail at it without disguise;
They long for its evasion; and, at length,
Will openly infringe it.
Cre.
Be it so.
It is my wish; that I may have the life
Of him who first may venture to infringe it.
Hæm.
Ah! what fierce enemy can counsel thee
Thus to contribute to thy own destruction?
Cre.
My love for thee is my sole counsellor:
Of what thou blamest thou shalt reap the fruit.
Long have the citizens in Thebes been wont
To witness crimes of darker hue than these;
What can they now intend, but to submit
And to be silent?
Hæm.
Oft beneath such silence
Vengeance lies couch'd ...
Cre.
The silence of the few;
But in the silence of an entire people
Lie hidden fear, and abject servitude.
Ah cease, oh son, to oppose thy father's views!
No object of solicitude have I
More dear, or more important, than thyself:
Thou only now remain'st to me; alone
Shall reap the fruits of my anxieties.
Perhaps thou intendest, ere his days are spent,
To prove thyself ungrateful to thy father!
But whence this clank of fetters and of arms?
Hæm.
Ah, who advances? ... In hard fetters bound
Two ladies dragg'd along? ... Antigone! ...
Cre.
Th'incautious virgin in my snares hath fallen;
And ill can she escape.
| Antigone | |