Page 11 of Oedipus Trilogy


  Unfold a treasure age cannot corrupt.

  Myself anon without a guiding hand

  Will take thee to the spot where I must end.

  This secret ne'er reveal to mortal man,

  Neither the spot nor whereabouts it lies,

  So shall it ever serve thee for defense

  Better than native shields and near allies.

  But those dread mysteries speech may not profane

  Thyself shalt gather coming there alone;

  Since not to any of thy subjects, nor

  To my own children, though I love them dearly,

  Can I reveal what thou must guard alone,

  And whisper to thy chosen heir alone,

  So to be handed down from heir to heir.

  Thus shalt thou hold this land inviolate

  From the dread Dragon's brood. [7] The justest State

  By countless wanton neighbors may be wronged,

  For the gods, though they tarry, mark for doom

  The godless sinner in his mad career.

  Far from thee, son of Aegeus, be such fate!

  But to the spot—the god within me goads—

  Let us set forth no longer hesitate.

  Follow me, daughters, this way. Strange that I

  Whom you have led so long should lead you now.

  Oh, touch me not, but let me all alone

  Find out the sepulcher that destiny

  Appoints me in this land. Hither, this way,

  For this way Hermes leads, the spirit guide,

  And Persephassa, empress of the dead.

  O light, no light to me, but mine erewhile,

  Now the last time I feel thee palpable,

  For I am drawing near the final gloom

  Of Hades. Blessing on thee, dearest friend,

  On thee and on thy land and followers!

  Live prosperous and in your happy state

  Still for your welfare think on me, the dead.

  (Exit THESEUS followed by ANTIGONE and ISMENE)

  CHORUS

  (Str.)

  If mortal prayers are heard in hell,

  Hear, Goddess dread, invisible!

  Monarch of the regions drear,

  Aidoneus, hear, O hear!

  By a gentle, tearless doom

  Speed this stranger to the gloom,

  Let him enter without pain

  The all-shrouding Stygian plain.

  Wrongfully in life oppressed,

  Be he now by Justice blessed.

  (Ant.)

  Queen infernal, and thou fell

  Watch-dog of the gates of hell,

  Who, as legends tell, dost glare,

  Gnarling in thy cavernous lair

  At all comers, let him go

  Scathless to the fields below.

  For thy master orders thus,

  The son of earth and Tartarus;

  In his den the monster keep,

  Giver of eternal sleep.

  (Enter MESSENGER)

  MESSENGER

  Friends, countrymen, my tidings are in sum

  That Oedipus is gone, but the event

  Was not so brief, nor can the tale be brief.

  CHORUS

  What, has he gone, the unhappy man?

  MESSENGER

  Know well

  That he has passed away from life to death.

  CHORUS

  How? By a god-sent, painless doom, poor soul?

  MESSENGER

  Thy question hits the marvel of the tale.

  How he moved hence, you saw him and must know;

  Without a friend to lead the way, himself

  Guiding us all. So having reached the abrupt

  Earth-rooted Threshold with its brazen stairs,

  He paused at one of the converging paths,

  Hard by the rocky basin which records

  The pact of Theseus and Peirithous.

  Betwixt that rift and the Thorician rock,

  The hollow pear-tree and the marble tomb,

  Midway he sat and loosed his beggar's weeds;

  Then calling to his daughters bade them fetch

  Of running water, both to wash withal

  And make libation; so they clomb the steep;

  And in brief space brought what their father bade,

  Then laved and dressed him with observance due.

  But when he had his will in everything,

  And no desire was left unsatisfied,

  It thundered from the netherworld; the maids

  Shivered, and crouching at their father's knees

  Wept, beat their breast and uttered a long wail.

  He, as he heard their sudden bitter cry,

  Folded his arms about them both and said,

  "My children, ye will lose your sire today,

  For all of me has perished, and no more

  Have ye to bear your long, long ministry;

  A heavy load, I know, and yet one word

  Wipes out all score of tribulations—love.

  And love from me ye had—from no man more;

  But now must live without me all your days."

  So clinging to each other sobbed and wept

  Father and daughters both, but when at last

  Their mourning had an end and no wail rose,

  A moment there was silence; suddenly

  A voice that summoned him; with sudden dread

  The hair of all stood up and all were 'mazed;

  For the call came, now loud, now low, and oft.

  "Oedipus, Oedipus, why tarry we?

  Too long, too long thy passing is delayed."

  But when he heard the summons of the god,

  He prayed that Theseus might be brought, and when

  The Prince came nearer: "O my friend," he cried,

  "Pledge ye my daughters, giving thy right hand—

  And, daughters, give him yours—and promise me

  Thou never wilt forsake them, but do all

  That time and friendship prompt in their behoof."

  And he of his nobility repressed

  His tears and swore to be their constant friend.

  This promise given, Oedipus put forth

  Blind hands and laid them on his children, saying,

  "O children, prove your true nobility

  And hence depart nor seek to witness sights

  Unlawful or to hear unlawful words.

  Nay, go with speed; let none but Theseus stay,

  Our ruler, to behold what next shall hap."

  So we all heard him speak, and weeping sore

  We companied the maidens on their way.

  After brief space we looked again, and lo

  The man was gone, evanished from our eyes;

  Only the king we saw with upraised hand

  Shading his eyes as from some awful sight,

  That no man might endure to look upon.

  A moment later, and we saw him bend

  In prayer to Earth and prayer to Heaven at once.

  But by what doom the stranger met his end

  No man save Theseus knoweth. For there fell

  No fiery bold that reft him in that hour,

  Nor whirlwind from the sea, but he was taken.

  It was a messenger from heaven, or else

  Some gentle, painless cleaving of earth's base;

  For without wailing or disease or pain

  He passed away—and end most marvelous.

  And if to some my tale seems foolishness

  I am content that such could count me fool.

  CHORUS

  Where are the maids and their attendant friends?

  MESSENGER

  They cannot be far off; the approaching sound

  Of lamentation tells they come this way.

  (Enter ANTIGONE and ISMENE)

  ANTIGONE

  (Str. 1)

  Woe, woe! on this sad day

  We sisters of one blasted stock

  must bow beneath the shock,

 
Must weep and weep the curse that lay

  On him our sire, for whom

  In life, a life-long world of care

  'Twas ours to bear,

  In death must face the gloom

  That wraps his tomb.

  What tongue can tell

  That sight ineffable?

  CHORUS

  What mean ye, maidens?

  ANTIGONE

  All is but surmise.

  CHORUS

  Is he then gone?

  ANTIGONE

  Gone as ye most might wish.

  Not in battle or sea storm,

  But reft from sight,

  By hands invisible borne

  To viewless fields of night.

  Ah me! on us too night has come,

  The night of mourning. Wither roam

  O'er land or sea in our distress

  Eating the bread of bitterness?

  ISMENE

  I know not. O that Death

  Might nip my breath,

  And let me share my aged father's fate.

  I cannot live a life thus desolate.

  CHORUS

  Best of daughters, worthy pair,

  What heaven brings ye needs must bear,

  Fret no more 'gainst Heaven's will;

  Fate hath dealt with you not ill.

  ANTIGONE

  (Ant. 1)

  Love can turn past pain to bliss,

  What seemed bitter now is sweet.

  Ah me! that happy toil is sweet.

  The guidance of those dear blind feet.

  Dear father, wrapt for aye in nether gloom,

  E'en in the tomb

  Never shalt thou lack of love repine,

  Her love and mine.

  CHORUS

  His fate—

  ANTIGONE

  Is even as he planned.

  CHORUS

  How so?

  ANTIGONE

  He died, so willed he, in a foreign land.

  Lapped in kind earth he sleeps his long last sleep,

  And o'er his grave friends weep.

  How great our lost these streaming eyes can tell,

  This sorrow naught can quell.

  Thou hadst thy wish 'mid strangers thus to die,

  But I, ah me, not by.

  ISMENE

  Alas, my sister, what new fate

  Befalls us orphans desolate?

  CHORUS

  His end was blessed; therefore, children, stay

  Your sorrow. Man is born to fate a prey.

  ANTIGONE

  (Str. 2)

  Sister, let us back again.

  ISMENE

  Why return?

  ANTIGONE

  My soul is fain—

  ISMENE

  Is fain?

  ANTIGONE

  To see the earthy bed.

  ISMENE

  Sayest thou?

  ANTIGONE

  Where our sire is laid.

  ISMENE

  Nay, thou can'st not, dost not see—

  ANTIGONE

  Sister, wherefore wroth with me?

  ISMENE

  Know'st not—beside—

  ANTIGONE

  More must I hear?

  ISMENE

  Tombless he died, none near.

  ANTIGONE

  Lead me thither; slay me there.

  ISMENE

  How shall I unhappy fare,

  Friendless, helpless, how drag on

  A life of misery alone?

  CHORUS

  (Ant. 2)

  Fear not, maids—

  ANTIGONE

  Ah, whither flee?

  CHORUS

  Refuge hath been found.

  ANTIGONE

  For me?

  CHORUS

  Where thou shalt be safe from harm.

  ANTIGONE

  I know it.

  CHORUS

  Why then this alarm?

  ANTIGONE

  How again to get us home

  I know not.

  CHORUS

  Why then this roam?

  ANTIGONE

  Troubles whelm us—

  CHORUS

  As of yore.

  ANTIGONE

  Worse than what was worse before.

  CHORUS

  Sure ye are driven on the breakers' surge.

  ANTIGONE

  Alas! we are.

  CHORUS

  Alas! 'tis so.

  ANTIGONE

  Ah whither turn, O Zeus? No ray

  Of hope to cheer the way

  Whereon the fates our desperate voyage urge.

  (Enter THESEUS)

  THESEUS

  Dry your tears; when grace is shed

  On the quick and on the dead

  By dark Powers beneficent,

  Over-grief they would resent.

  ANTIGONE

  Aegeus' child, to thee we pray.

  THESEUS

  What the boon, my children, say.

  ANTIGONE

  With our own eyes we fain would see

  Our father's tomb.

  THESEUS

  That may not be.

  ANTIGONE

  What say'st thou, King?

  THESEUS

  My children, he

  Charged me straitly that no moral

  Should approach the sacred portal,

  Or greet with funeral litanies

  The hidden tomb wherein he lies;

  Saying, "If thou keep'st my hest

  Thou shalt hold thy realm at rest."

  The God of Oaths this promise heard,

  And to Zeus I pledged my word.

  ANTIGONE

  Well, if he would have it so,

  We must yield. Then let us go

  Back to Thebes, if yet we may

  Heal this mortal feud and stay

  The self-wrought doom

  That drives our brothers to their tomb.

  THESEUS

  Go in peace; nor will I spare

  Ought of toil and zealous care,

  But on all your needs attend,

  Gladdening in his grave my friend.

  CHORUS

  Wail no more, let sorrow rest,

  All is ordered for the best.

  Antigone

  *

  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

  By double fratricide; and since i' the night

  Our Argive leaguers fled, no later news

  Has reached me, to inspirit or deject.

  ANTIGONE

  I know 'twas so, and therefore summoned thee

  Beyond the gates to breathe it in thine ear.

  ISMENE

  What is it? Some dark secret stirs thy breast.

  ANTIGONE

  What but the thought of our two brothers dead,

  The one by Creon graced with funeral rites,

  The other disappointed? Eteocles

  He hath consigned to earth (as fame reports)

  With obsequies that use and wont ordain,

  So gracing him among the dead below.

  But Polyneices, a dishonored corse,

  (So by report the royal edict runs)

  No man may bury him or make lament—

  Must leave him tombless and unwept, a feast

  For kites to scent afar and swoop upon.

  Such is the edict (if report speak true)

  Of Creon, our most noble Creon, aimed

  At thee and me, aye me too; and anon

  He will be here to promulgate, for such

  As have not heard, his mandate; 'tis in sooth

  No passing humor, for the edict says

  Whoe'er transgresses shall be stoned to death.

  So stands it with us; now 'tis thine to show

  If thou art worthy of thy blood or base.

  ISMENE

  But how, my rash, fond sister, in such case

  Can I do anything to make or mar?

  ANTIGONE

  Say, wilt thou aid me and abet? Decide.

  ISMENE

  In what bold venture? What is in thy thought?

  ANTIGONE

  Lend me a hand to bear the corpse away.

  ISMENE

  What, bury him despite the interdict?

  ANTIGONE

  My brother, and, though thou deny him, thine

  No man shall say that I betrayed a brother.

  ISMENE

  Wilt thou persist, though Creon has forbid?

  ANTIGONE

  What right has he to keep me from my own?

  ISMENE

  Bethink thee, sister, of our father's fate,

  Abhorred, dishonored, self-convinced of sin,

  Blinded, himself his executioner.

  Think of his mother-wife (ill sorted names)

  Done by a noose herself had twined to death

  And last, our hapless brethren in one day,

  Both in a mutual destiny involved,

  Self-slaughtered, both the slayer and the slain.

  Bethink thee, sister, we are left alone;

  Shall we not perish wretchedest of all,

  If in defiance of the law we cross