University of Virginia Library

ACT THE FOURTH.

SCENE THE FIRST.

Creon, Antigone, Guards.
Cre.
Hast chosen?

Ant.
I have chosen.

Cre.
Hæmon?

Ant.
Death.

Cre.
Death thou shalt have.—But take especial heed,
That when the axe is lifted o'er thy head
Thou dost not flinch: the time for penitence
Will then be past. Ill, perhaps, thou wilt sustain
The aspect fierce of death when it approaches;
Ill, if thou love her, perhaps, thou wilt sustain
Argia's tears; she, by thy side, is doomed
To breathe her last; and thou art cause alone
Of her untimely end. Ah! think of it;
Thou still hast time ... I yet exhort thee to it.
Now, what is thy reply? ... Thou speakest not?
Intrepidly and steadily thou lookest? ...
Yes, haughty virgin, thou shalt have from me
That which thy contumelious silence asks.
I now regret that I allow'd thee choice
Betwixt my own dishonour and thy death.

Ant.
Why dost thou now delay? Act and be silent.

Cre.
Make a parade of courage at thy will:
We soon shall see how far that courage goes.
Although the appointed moment of thy death
Be not arrived, to gratify thy wish
It shall be hastened. Go, Eurymedon;
Quickly conduct her to the ready scaffold.

SCENE THE SECOND.

Hæmon, Antigone, Creon, Guards.
Hæm.
Stop ... To the scaffold? ...

Ant.
Now, now, guards, make haste ...
Oh, misadventurous sight! drag me to death.
Leave me, oh Hæmon, leave me! ... now, farewell.

Hæm.
Dare none of you to drag her one step farther!

Cre.
Rash youth! Dost menace in thy father's presence?

Hæm.
Thus dost thou love me, father? Thus cut short
The day thou granted'st to her?

Cre.
'Tis her will
Thus to precipitate her destiny;
Can I refuse compliance?

Hæm.
Hear, oh hear;
Dost thou not know then? Thou art menaced now
With other and most unexpected troubles.
It is reported that the King of Athens,
Theseus, that valiant hero, comes to Thebes
With armed multitudes. O'erwhelmed in tears,
And claiming reparation at his hands,
To him the desolate Argive widows went.
The king attended to their just complaints,
And pledged himself to gain for them the urns
Of their dead husbands; and thou knowest well
That Theseus is no empty promiser.
Propitiate his retributory wrath,
And our disgrace prevent. I ask thee not
Basely to quail at contumelious menace,
But that thou shouldst feel pity for thy Thebes;
Scarce do the glad notes of returning peace
Freshen the morning gales; though, for thy sake,
In an unrighteous cause I took up arms;
What men of prowess now remain in Thebes?
There lie the valiant in the battailous field,
Valiant no more; there, on th'ensanguined bed,
Pale and exanimate ...

Cre.
To abject fear
Dost deem it possible for me to yield?
Say, to what purpose, then, dost thou thus dwell
On distant, dubious, perhaps unfounded, dangers?
Theseus, that valiant hero, at my hands
Has not demanded yet the Argive urns;
Nor have I yet refused them to his threats:
Perhaps ere he seeks to treat with me for Argos,
I may anticipate his mediation.
Art thou contented? Thebes is yet secure;
I have no wish for war. At last permit
That to her destiny this virgin go.

Hæm.
Wilt thou then thus for ever lose thy son? ...
In vain thou hopest that a single day
I should survive her. Perhaps to lose thy son
Is but a trifle; but by this one deed
Thou rushest on a thousand various perils.
Antigone is now absolved; thyself
Absolved'st her when thou didst abrogate
Thy unjust law. All now are well aware
That thou contrived'st for her sake alone
The abominable snare. Shall Thebes behold
The honour'd daughter of her kings expire
Upon an infamous and bloody scaffold?
Ah, flatter not thyself that thou dost reign
O'er subjects so degraded. Loud laments,
Desperate menaces, and clank of arms,
Are heard already; even now they doubt ...

Cre.
Enough; enough. Since thou dost will it not,
Thebes shall not see upon a bloody scaffold
The honour'd daughter of their kings expire.
Soldiers, soon as the shades of night descend
Ye shall conduct her to the plain, where lie
Th'unburied heroes. 'Tis no longer lawful
To refuse sepulture to any one:
The heroic Theseus prohibits this:
Let her then have it on the field of battle;
The interment which on others she bestow'd:
Yes, there alive be buried! ...

Hæm.
What do I hear?
Dost thou dare thus defy both gods and men?
Ere thou canst put thy threat in execution,
Thou from the veins of thy indignant son
Must drain each drop of blood. Buried alive?
Ah impious! ... sooner on this very spot
Shall I be slain; reduced to dust and ashes ...

Ant.
Ah, Hæmon, wilt thou make thyself unworthy
Of my affection? Whatsoe'er he be
He is thy father. Even from my birth
My fate has doomed me to a violent death.
If it be so, what signifies the place,
The time, the manner of my death?

Cre.
In vain
Thou wouldst oppose; thou canst not rescue her;
Nor benefit thyself ... A wretched father
Thou wilt make me; nought else canst thou perform.

Hæm.
To make thee wretched gratifies my soul;
Thou dost deserve it; and thou wilt be so.
The impious throne allures thee to defy
All the most sacred duties of a king,
Of father, and of man: but the more firm
Thou deem'st that throne, the more it shakes beneath
Thy sacrilegious and usurping weight.
... The Thebans 'twixt the father and the son
Clearly distinguish ... and there lives, I warn thee,
Who, with a nod, could snatch from thee at once
Thy throne so fraudulently gotten: reign:
I will not give the signal; but, if harm
Befall this virgin, tremble ...

Ant.
I beseech thee,
Creon, ah quickly, execute thy sentence!
Oh fatal power of adverse destiny!
To my so many unexampled woes,
And to my guilty birth, there wanted nought
But that I should be 'twixt a son and father
The instigator of atrocious rage.

Hæm.
Listen to me, to me alone, oh Creon:
Since swords of Athens, and its valiant king,
The prayers of females, or the loud lament
Of frantic multitudes, appal thee not;
Now on thy hard heart may the cry descend,
The terrible cry, of a despairing son;
From whom thou hast by mad ambition torn
All power of self-controul; to whom, alas!
It had been better hadst thou ne'er given life;
And who, on this tremendous day, may make thee
Repent of such a gift.

Cre.
No human cry
Suffices to impose a law on Creon.

Hæm.
There is a human sword that may suffice
To snap those laws at once.

Cre.
And 'tis? ...

Hæm.
My sword.

Cre.
Perfidious traitor! Plot thy father's death;
Cut short my days at once! ah, dare to do it! ...
Seize on the kingdom; trouble its repose;
Thy father still I am, though thou forget,
And almost seem to scorn, to be my son.
I know not how, nor can I, punish thee:
I have no power, except to love thee still,
And thy degenerate spirit to lament.
Say what of difficult do I atchieve
That is not for thy 'vantage? but ingrate,
And deaf, alas! too much so, thou dost dare
Prefer a love both indiscreet and foolish,
A love not well received, to lofty thoughts
Of policy, to sacred rights of blood.

Hæm.
Say, of what rights of blood darest thou to speak?
Thou art throughout a king: thou canst not love
Thy son: thou only seekest a support
To tyranny. Should I, who sprung from thee,
Feel reverentially for ties of blood?
Thou art my law, my sole preceptor thou,
In cruelty; I follow thee: the goal
Which thou hast shewn to me I first will reach;
I swear I will. What lofty policy,
I pray thee, prompts the open turpitude
Which thou designest? Take thou heed, lest I
Should, in like manner, as thou provest it,
Return thy love ... That love engenders crimes;
From it a thousand trespasses result,
Augmenting gloriously; and this thou knowest.

Ant.
E'en now I hate thee, if thou dost proceed.
Thou wert the son of Creon long before
Thou wert my lover; strong, infrangible,
Of all ties holiest, is the tie of son.
Think, Hæmon, ah, I do conjure thee, think,
That to this very tie I fall a victim ...
That I do love thee, Heaven itself bears witness:
Yet I refuse thy hand not to offend
The shades, yet unappeased, of the departed.
Death I prefer, a shameful death I chuse,
That tidings insupportable to him,
Of me, my wretched father may not hear.
Then be not thou refractory; but live
The obsequious son of a flagitious father.

Cre.
His fury irritates my bosom less
Than thy compassion. Take her from my sight.
Go, go ... ah, wert thou once but fairly gone!
Thy presence from the path of rectitude
Alone seduces Hæmon. At the hour,
Which I already have assign'd to thee,
Eurymedon, conduct her to the plain;
And there, at once, give her both death and burial.

SCENE THE THIRD.

Creon, Hæmon, Guards.
Hæm.
Before the hour assign'd, thou from the camp
Tidings shalt hear of me.

Cre.
Or ere that time
Hæmon will see his error, and repent it.
I might anticipate and thus defeat
Thy idle menaces: but I will give thee
A more convincing proof of my affection,
By trusting to thy elevated heart,
Thy early virtues, which I fain would think
Are in thee, but suspended, not destroy'd.

Hæm.
Yes; I protest that what I shall perform
Shall not disgrace the virtues of my youth.

SCENE THE FOURTH.

Creon, Guards.
Cre.
I know his temper well: his sense of honour,
More than aught else, can curb its vehemence:
My seeming confidence will much enthral
The workings of his rage ... yet perhaps to-day,
Intoxicated as he is with love,
He may resort to force? ... But 'twill be easy
For me to watch, deceive, defeat, his steps:
When once Antigone has fallen my victim,
All will be easy ... Theseus to appease ...
To impose obedience on the multitude ...
Regain my son; all this will be as nothing.
But of Argia how shall I dispose?
Guards, bring Argia instantly before me.
Her death no longer can promote my schemes;
And 'tis my interest now to pacify,
While yet I may, the anger of Adrastes:
I have too many enemies already.
I will restore her to her sire in Argos:
This restoration, as 'tis unexpected,
Will yield him more delight; and thus the stain
Of cruelty, imputed to my nature,
Will not be inconsiderably lessened.

SCENE THE FIFTH.

Creon, Argia, Guards.
Cre.
Argia, listen to me. Grief sincere,
Love of thy husband, and fond piety,
Conducted thee to Thebes, where thou alone
Hadst never dared to brave my prohibition.

Ar.
Thou art mistaken; I alone ...

Cre.
Well ... well ...
Thou hadst defied it then, impell'd by pity;
Not from contempt, and as in proud defiance
Of my authority; not to excite
Clamorous disturbances: I can discern
Pity and love from factious disobedience,
Cloaking its close designs with better motives.
I am not cruel as thou mayest account me;
And, as a proof of this, accept thy freedom.
The shades of night protected thy approach;
When the sun sets the shades of night once more
Shall reconduct thee to thy sire in Argos.

Ar.
Eternal farewell I have bidden to Argos:
The last remains of murdered Polinices
Are laid in Thebes; in Thebes, or dead or living,
I therefore will remain.

Cre.
Dost thou not wish
To see once more thy child, thy sire, thy country?

Ar.
I never can desert the sacred ashes
Of my beloved spouse.

Cre.
In this, thy wish
I likewise will indulge: thou cam'st by stealth
His ashes to obtain; openly keep them,
And bear the precious burthen back to Argos.
Depart; and there erect, among thy kindred,
A tomb expressive of thy deep regret,
To thy beloved spouse.

Ar.
And is it true?
Whence can such clemency arise? And how
Canst thou so differ from thy former self,
And be sincere?

Cre.
Erewhile inflamed with rage
Thou sawest me; but rage in me is transient;
Reason and time abate it.

Ar.
May kind Heaven
Grant thee a reign both long and prosperous!
Thou then art won to clemency? What joy
Thy people and thy son will thence derive!
Thou hast at last felt pity for our fate;
Thou also ceasest, with the name of guilt,
To stigmatise compassion in ourselves;
And the offence to which thou forced'st us
Thou pardonest in us ...

Cre.
I pardon thee.

Ar.
Is not Antigone then safe?

Cre.
I do not
Confound thy fault with her's.

Ar.
What do I hear?
She groans in fetters yet? ...

Cre.
Question no farther ...
Prepare for thy departure.

Ar.
Shall I go,
And leave in peril my beloved sister?
Vainly thou hopest it. Thy pardon pleased me
Because I thought she bore in it a part;
But she is fetter'd yet? Fierce punishments
Perhaps yet await her? I will then be fetter'd;
And I will suffer punishments more fierce ...

Cre.
In Thebes, I will; not others; to that will
Of mine all yield. Thou hast infringed my law;
And yet I pardon thee: thou wouldst construct
Thy husband's funeral pile; this thou hast done:
Bear back his ashes to thy native Argos;
I yield those ashes to thee. What more wouldst thou?
What more darest thou to ask? Dost thou expect
That I should be accountable to thee? ...

Ar.
At least permit me to obtain the favour
Of seeing her once more.

Cre.
Thou would'st, perchance,
Gain from her intercourse a hardihood
Which, in thyself, thou feel'st not? When light thickens
I shall expect thee to depart from Thebes:
If thou wilt not go of thine own accord,
By force thou goest hence.

Ar.
Than any death
Thy pardon is more cruel: death, which to all
Thou givest, why to me alone deny it?
'Tis not that thou art withheld by any fear
Of spilling blood. I am less innocent
Than is Antigone, why should not I
Incur an equal portion of thy fury? ...

Cre.
Deem it or clemency or punishment
Thy going hence; it gives me little pain;
Provided that clear quittance is obtained.—
Guards, to your keeping I entrust her person:
At night-fall to the Omolæan gate
Descend, and bear her to the Argive boundaries:
If she refuse to go, drag her by force.
In the meantime replace her in the prison.

Ar.
Hear me ... have pity ...

Cre.
Hence: depart.

SCENE THE SIXTH.

Creon.
Cre.
Must I
To my commands, whether they're kind or cruel,
Find all rebellious?—All at last shall yield.