The Seven Plays in English Verse Part 4

How came she in thy charge? Where didst thou find her?

WATCH. Burying the prince. One word hath told thee all.

CR. Hast thou thy wits, and knowest thou what thou sayest?

WATCH. I saw her burying him whom you forbade To bury. Is that, now, clearly spoken, or no?

CR. And how was she detected, caught, and taken?

WATCH. It fell in this wise. We were come to the spot, Bearing the dreadful burden of thy threats; And first with care we swept the dust away From round the corse, and laid the dank limbs bare: Then sate below the hill-top, out o' the wind, Where no bad odour from the dead might strike us, Stirring each other on with interchange Of loud revilings on the negligent In 'tendance on this duty. So we stayed Till in mid heaven the sun's resplendent orb Stood high, and the heat strengthened. Suddenly, The Storm-G.o.d raised a whirlwind from the ground, Vexing heaven's concave, and filled all the plain, Rending the locks of all the orchard groves, Till the great sky was choked withal. We closed Our lips and eyes, and bore the G.o.d-sent evil.

When after a long while this ceased, the maid Was seen, and wailed in high and bitter key, Like some despairing bird that hath espied Her nest all desolate, the nestlings gone.

So, when she saw the body bare, she mourned Loudly, and cursed the authors of this deed.

Then nimbly with her hands she brought dry dust, And holding high a shapely brazen cruse, Poured three libations, honouring the dead.

We, when we saw, ran in, and straightway seized Our quarry, nought dismayed, and charged her with The former crime and this. And she denied Nothing;--to my delight, and to my grief.

One's self to escape disaster is great joy; Yet to have drawn a friend into distress Is painful. But mine own security To me is of more value than aught else.

CR. Thou, with thine eyes down-fastened to the earth!

Dost thou confess to have done this, or deny it?

ANT. I deny nothing. I avow the deed.

CR. (_to_ Watchman).

Thou may'st betake thyself whither thou wilt, Acquitted of the grievous charge, and free.

(_to_ ANTIGONE) And thou,--no prating talk, but briefly tell, Knew'st thou our edict that forbade this thing?

ANT. I could not fail to know. You made it plain.

CR. How durst thou then transgress the published law?

ANT. I heard it not from Heaven, nor came it forth From Justice, where she reigns with G.o.ds below.

They too have published to mankind a law.

Nor thought I thy commandment of such might That one who is mortal thus could overbear The infallible, unwritten laws of Heaven.

Not now or yesterday they have their being, But everlastingly, and none can tell The hour that saw their birth. I would not, I, For any terror of a man's resolve, Incur the G.o.d-inflicted penalty Of doing them wrong. That death would come, I knew Without thine edict;--if before the time, I count it gain. Who does not gain by death, That lives, as I do, amid boundless woe?

Slight is the sorrow of such doom to me.

But had I suffered my own mother's child, Fallen in blood, to be without a grave, That were indeed a sorrow. This is none.

And if thou deem'st me foolish for my deed, I am foolish in the judgement of a fool.

CH. Fierce shows the maiden's vein from her fierce sire; Calamity doth not subdue her will.

CR. Ay, but the stubborn spirit first doth fall.

Oft ye shall see the strongest bar of steel, That fire hath hardened to extremity, Shattered to pieces. A small bit controls The fiery steed. Pride may not be endured In one whose life is subject to command.

This maiden hath been conversant with crime Since first she trampled on the public law; And now she adds to crime this insolence, To laugh at her offence, and glory in it.

Truly, if she that hath usurped this power Shall rest unpunished, she then is a man, And I am none. Be she my sister's child, Or of yet nearer blood to me than all That take protection from my hearth, the pair Shall not escape the worst of deaths. For know, I count the younger of the twain no less Copartner in this plotted funeral: And now I bid you call her. Late I saw her Within the house, beyond herself, and frantic.

--Full oft when one is darkly scheming wrong, The disturbed spirit hath betrayed itself Before the act it hides.--But not less hateful Seems it to me, when one that hath been caught In wickedness would give it a brave show.

ANT. Wouldst thou aught more of me than merely death?

CR. No more. 'Tis all I claim. Death closes all.

ANT. Why then delay? No talk of thine can charm me, Forbid it Heaven! And my discourse no less Must evermore sound noisome to thine ear.

Yet where could I have found a fairer fame Than giving burial to my own true brother?

All here would tell thee they approve my deed, Were they not tongue-tied to authority.

But kings.h.i.+p hath much profit; this in chief, That it may do and say whate'er it will.

CR. No Theban sees the matter with thine eye.

ANT. They see, but curb their voices to thy sway

CR. And art thou not ashamed, acting alone?

ANT. A sister's piety hath no touch of shame.

CR. Was not Eteocles thy brother too?

ANT. My own true brother from both parents' blood.

CR. This duty was impiety to him.

ANT. He that is dead will not confirm that word.

CR. If you impart his honours to the vile.

ANT. It was his brother, not a slave, who fell.

CR. But laying waste the land for which he fought.

ANT. Death knows no difference, but demands his due.

CR. Yet not equality 'twixt good and bad.

ANT. Both may be equal yonder; who can tell?

CR. An enemy is hated even in death.

ANT. Love, and not hatred, is the part for me.

CR. Down then to death! and, if you must, there love The dead. No woman rules me while I live.

CH. Now comes Ismene forth. Ah, see, From clouds above her brow The sister-loving tear Is falling wet on her fair cheek, Distaining all her pa.s.sion-crimson'd face!

_Enter_ ISMENE.

CR. And thou, that like a serpent coiled i' the house Hast secretly been draining my life-blood,-- Little aware that I was cheris.h.i.+ng Two curses and subverters of my throne,-- Tell us, wilt thou avouch thy share in this Entombment, or forswear all knowledge of it?

ISM. If her voice go therewith, I did the deed, And bear my part and burden of the blame.

ANT. Nay, justice will not suffer that. You would not, And I refused to make you mine ally.

ISM. But now in thy misfortune I would fain Embark with thee in thy calamity.