2 [p. 2]

PRESERVATION PHOTOCOPY: ORIGINAL MATERIAL RESTRICTED

CHORUS:

Iô, Fire! Chorister of the throbbing stars!

O purest among the voices of the night!

Thou son of God, blaze for us!

Come with the choric rapture of circling Maenads

Who cry Iô, Iacche! God of many names!

Lydia: This is a hard one to type. Follow my spacing and my lack of punctuation. It might be better to make five spaces (I have 3) between the first and second stanzas (str. and ant. 1) and between the third and fourth stanzas (str. and ant. 2). This will distinguish the strophic form better. ALSO: instead of printing it as I have, begin the chorus farther down on the page, so that stroke 1 and antistrophe 1 will take up all the first page; then strophe 2 and its antistrophe will be on the 2nd page. Never mind if this leaves big empty spaces: the important thing is to keep the strophes absolutely discrete. (yes; I didn't mean 'discreet').

With this hyporcheme you have every bit of the poem except a couple of links (the one between the Párodos and Epeisodion I, for inst.) . These will be along. They are only a few lines apiece, anyhow.

The word in ant. 1 is 'vine-close' . In str. 2, 'Thunderer'.

The mess before 'choric' in ant. 2 is regrettable, and don't preserve it.

God bless yer, &c.

C.I.O.-ishly,

ULYSSES S GRANT

All Souls' Night
1938

HYPÓRHEMA

CHORAGOS: God of many names!

CHORUS: O Iacchos
son
Of Cadmeian Semélé

O born of the Thunder!

Guardian of the West
regent

Of Eleusis' plain

O Prince of maenad Thebes

And the Dragon Field by rippling Ismenos!

CHORAGOS: God of many names!

CHORUS: The flame of torches
Flares on the hills
the nymphs of Iacchos
Dance at the spring of Castalia!
From the vihe-close mountain
come oh come in ivy!
<u>Evohé evohé!</u> sings through the streets of Thebes.

CHORAGOS: God of many names!

CHORUS: Iacchos of Thebes!
Pledge of Semélé

ravished bride of the Tnûnderer!
The shadow of plague is upon us:

Come with clement feet

come from Parnassos

Over the slopes

or the strait's lamenting water!

INCERTI AUCTHORIS HYPOTHESIS

[from the Laurentian Codex (facs. London 1885]

Polyneiçês having died in single combat with his brother, Creon orders his body to be exposed unburied, and proclaims that no one, under penalty of death, is to bury him. His sister Antigonê attempts this burial: eluding the guard, she mounds the body over with dust. Creon threatens the guards with death if they do not produce the person who has done this. Accordingly, they remove the dust from the corpse and keep careful watch. Antigonê returns, and, finding the naked body, she laments the dead; thus she betrays herself. She is brought before Creon by the sentries, and Creon condemns her and walls her up alive in a tomb. At this, Creon's son Haimon, who had won the promise of her hand, kills himself in a rage after the girl has hanged herself. And Teiresias had foretold these things. In grief for her son, Eurydicê, the wife of Creon, does away with herself. Finally, Creon laments the death of his son and wife.

Bob: I made this translation of the anonymous Argumentum from Cod. Laur. as barbarously crude as the original Greek. I guess we can't use it; but I think we probably ought to have a prefixed Argument, because there were people who were able to read the Alkestis entire without ever getting a respectable notion of the plot. Qué te parece? The dopes also buy books.

Yrs, DF

## the characters represented

ANTIGONE
ISMENE
EURYDICE

A SENTRY
TWO MESSENGERS
CHORUS

CREON
HAIMON
TEIRESIAS

**SCENE.** Before the palace of Creon, King of Thebes. There is a central double door, and two lateral doors, L. and R. A platform extends the length of this façade, and from this platform five steps lead down into the 'orchestra' or chorus-ground. Time: dawn of the day after the repulse of the Argive army from the siege of Thebes.

## GENERAL NOTES.

I. Masks are required for all the characters except ANTIGONE, ISMENE, CREON, HAIMON, and EURYDICE. The masks for the Chorus should be anonymous, impassive. The SENTRY'S should suggest comic fear. Those of TEIRESIAS and the two MESSENGERS should be geometric, stylised.

II. It is urged that the Choral Odes be chanted or declaimed by a stationary Chorus, masked, grouped antiphonally at the two sides of the stage. If dancing is necessary, this should be performed by a very small group in the 'orchestra' -- simple pantomime, whose evolutions should be as restrained as possible.

III. The interpretation of the speeches is declamatory: there should be very little gesture, no 'acting' (in the accepted sense): the poem should be allowed to express itself.

Prólogos: vv. 68 sqq. [3]

(3)

To be always meddling.

ANTIGONE:
I will not urge you, then.

Even if you agreed, I should not want you now.

You have made your choice, you can be what you want to be.

But I will bury him; and if I must die for it,

I say that this crime is holy; and he'll love me for it.

I owe a longer duty to the dead

Than to our living governors: I shall be

A long time down there...

You may do as you like,
Since apparently you don't follow the laws of the gods.

FENDONCE

FENDONCE

ISMENE:
I do not approve them; but I have no strength

To break these laws that were made for the public good.

ANTIGONE:
That must be your excuse, I suppose. But as for me,

I will bury the brother I love with every due rite.

ISMENE:
Antigonê, Antigonê, I am so afraid for you!

ANTIGONE:
You need not be: you have yourself to consider.

ISMENE:
But no one must hear of this, you must tell no one!

I will keep it a secret, I promise!

ANTIGONE:
Oh tell it! Tell everyone!

Think how they'll hate you when it all comes out

If they learn that you knew about it all the time.

ISMENE:
You are so on fire with a plan so ghastly cold!

ANTIGONE:
I shall be doing honour where honour is best.

ISMENE:
Yes, if you succeed; but you can not succeed in this.

ANTIGONE:
Very well: when my strength gives out, I shall do no more.

fixed

Prólogos: vv. 92 sqq. [4]

ISMENE: Impossible things should not be attempted at all.

ANTIGONE: Go away, Ismênê:

I shall be hating you soon, and the dead will too,

For your words are hateful. Leave me my foolish plan:

I am not afraid of the danger; there is nothing

So dreadful as to die with no honour at all.

ISMENE: Go then, if you feel that you must.

I think your scheme is solid, I really do.

But we must always remember, whatever happens,

That the thoughts we have for you are thoughts of love.

FINAL VERSION: RSF & DF Harvard Club. Vv. 223 sqq.

[enter SENTRY from L.]

SENTRY: King, I can't say I'm out of breath from running, because every time I stopped to think about what I have to tell you, I felt like going back. And all the time there was a kind of dialogue going on in my head: a voice kept saying, 'You're a fool, don't you know you're walking straight into a lot of trouble?' and then another voice: 'Yes, but if you let somebody else get the news to Creon first, it'll be worse than that for you!' So with all this stopping and starting, it took me a long time to go a few short way. But good sense won out, at least I hope it was good sense, and here I am with a story that makes no sense at all; but I'll tell it anyhow, because, as they say, what's going to happen's going to happen, and --

CREON: Come to the point. What have you got to say?

SENTRY: I didn't do it. I didn't see who did it. It won't do for you to do anything to me, for something somebody else has done,

CREON: A comprehensive defence! More effective, perhaps, If I knew its purpose. Come: what is it?

SENTRY: It was awful. . . I don't know how to put it --

CREON: Out with it, man!

SENTRY: All right, I'll try my best.
The dead man --

Polyneicês --

[Pause. The SENTRY is overcome, fumbles for words. CREON waits impassively.

Out there --

someone,

vv. 246 sqq

2

oh, somebody has --

Dry dust caked on flesh-slime!

and . . .

[Pause. No sign from CREON.]

Given it burial that way,

and

Gone. . .

[Long pause. CREON finally speaks with deadly control.]

CREON: And the man who dared do this?

SENTRY:

I swear I

Didn't! I don't know, believe me!

Listen:

The ground not a sign of digging,
was once a wheel track in the dust, no one
Not a wheel track in the dust, no one
of anyone.

It was when they relieved us this morning: and one of them,
The corporal, pointed to it.

There it was,

The strangest ---

Look:

The body, just mounded over with light dust: you see?
Not buried really, but as if they'd covered it
Just enough for the ghost's peace. And no sign
Of dogs or any wild animal that had been there.

And then what a scene there was! Every man of us
Accusing the other: we all proved the other man did it,
We all had proof that we could not have done it.
We were ready to take hot iron in our hands,
Walk through fire, swear by all the gods,

It was not I!

vv. 266 sqq.

3

I do not know who it was, but it was not I!

[CREON'S rage has been mounting steadily, but the SENTRY is too intent upon his story to notice]

And then, when this came to nothing, someone said
A thing that silenced us and made us stare
Down at the ground: you had to be told the news,
And one of us had to do it! We threw the dice,
And the damned thing fell to me. So here I am,
No happier to be here than you are to have me...
Nobody likes the <u>DEMON OF BAD NEWS</u> man who brings bad news.

CHORAGOS: I have been wondering, King: can it be that the gods have done this?

CREON:

Stop!

[furiously]

Must you doddering WRECKS go out of your heads entirely? The gods!
Intolerable!

The gods favour this corpse? Why? What had he done
For them? Tried to loot their temples, burn their images,
Yes, and the whole State, and its laws with it!
Is it your senile opinion that the gods love to honour bad men?

A pious thought! --

No, from the beginning VERY BEGINNINGS it

There have been those who have whispered together,
Stiff-necked anarchists, putting their heads together,
Scheming against me in alleys. These are the men,
And they have bribed my own guard to do this thing.

Money!

vv. 326 sqq.

5

SENTRY: 'Bring me the man' -- !

I'd like nothing better than bringing him the man!

But bring him or not, you have seen the last of me here.

I never thought At any rate, I am safe : I never thought
That I'd ever have so much reason to thank the gods.

[exit SENTRY.]

ODE I

CHORUS:

Numberless are the world's wonders, but none
More wonderful than man: the stormgrey sea
Yields to his prows, the huge crests bear him high;
Earth, holy and inexhaustible, is graven
With shining furrows where his ploughs have gone
Year after year, the timeless labour of stallions.

Lightboned birds and beasts that cling to cover,
their reaches of dim air their own, the wind their water,
The lithe fish lighting through the moonlight, the moon, the water,
All are taken, tamed in the net of his mind:
windy, the lion on the hill, the wild horse as he was,
blunt, Resign to him; and his yoke has broken
blooming, the cancer of the mountain bull.
The shoulders of the mountain bull.

battering

Lydia: Type this Ode on
a separate page.

vv. 384 sqd. [1]

[Re-enter SENTRY leading Antigonê.
Throughout his colloquy with CREON,
she stands impassively, eyes downcast.

SENTRY: Here is the one who did it! We caught her
In the very act of burying him. -- Where is Creon?

CHORAGOS: Just coming from the house. [Enter CREON, C.

CREON: What has happened?
Why have you come back so soon?

SENTRY: O King,
A man should never be too sure of anything:
I would have sworn
That you'd not see me here again: your anger
Frightened me so, and the things you threatened me with;
But how could I tell then
That I'd be able to solve the case so soon?
Here is this woman. She is the
Guilty one: I found her trying to bury him.
This time there was no dice-throwing: I was only too glad to come!

CREON: Take her, then; question her; judge her as you will.
I am through with the whole thing now, and glad of it.

CREON: But this is Antigonê! Why have you brought her here?

SENTRY: She was burying him, I tell you!

CREON: Is this the truth? [severely]

SENTRY: I saw her with my own eyes. Can I say more?

FINAL VERSION: DF & RSF Wallingford

vv. 405 sqq [2]

CREON: The details: come, tell me quickly!

SENTRY:

It was like this:

After those terrible threats of yours, King,
We went back and brushed the dust away from the body.
The flesh was damp by this time, and stinking,
So we sat on a hill to windward and kept guard.

No napping this time! We were afraid to keep quiet.

No napping this time! We kept each other awake.
But nothing happened until the white round sun
Whirled in the centre of the round sky over us:
Then, suddenly,

A storm of dust roared up from the earth, and the sky
Went out, the plain vanished with all its trees
In the stinging dark. We closed our eyes and endured it.
The whirlwind lasted a long time, but it passed;
And then we looked, and there was Antigonê!

I have seen

A mother bird come back to a stripped nest, heard
Her crying bitterly a broken note or two
For the young ones stolen. Just so, when this girl -
Found the bare corpse, and all her love's work wasted,
She wept, and cried on Heaven to damn the hands
That had done this thing.

And then she brought more dust
And sprinkled wine three times for her brother's ghost.
We ran and took her at once. She was not afraid,
Not even when we charged her with what she had done.

vv. 435 sqq [3]

She denied nothing.

And this was a comfort to me,

And some uneasiness: for it is a good thing
and
To escape from death, but it is no great pleasure

To bring death to a friend.

But I always say

There is nothing so comfortable as your own safe skin!

CREON: And you, Antigonê,
[slowly, dangerously]
You with your head hanging, -- do you confess this thing?

ANTIGONE: I do. I deny nothing.
[simply]

CREON: You may go.
[to SENTRY]
Tell me, tell me briefly:
[exit SENTRY]
[to ANTIGONE]
Had you heard my proclamation touching this matter?

ANTIGONE: It was public. Could I help hearing it?

CREON: And yet you dared defy the law?

ANTIGONE: I dared.

It was not God's proclamation. That final Justice
That rules the world below makes no such laws
For men.

Your edict, King, was strong,

But all too weak to pit itself against

The immortal unrecorded laws of God.

They are not merely now: they were, and shall be,

**FOR EVER, UNREVERSABLE**

Operative for ever beyond man utterly.

DF & RSF: FINAL VERSION Wallingford

vv. 458 sqq.

[4]

I knew I must die, of course, even without your decree:
I am only mortal. And if I must die
Now, before it is my time to die,
Surely this is no hardship: can any one
Living, as I live, hedged in on all sides by evil
Think Death less than a friend? This death of mine
Is of no importance; but if I had left my brother
Lying in death unburied, I would have suffered.
Now I do not.

You smile at me. Ah Creon,
Think me a fool, if you like; but it may well be
That a fool convicts me of folly.

CHORAGOS: Like father, like daughter: both headstrong, deaf to reason!
She has never learned to yield.

CREON:

She has much to learn.
The inflexible heart breaks first, the toughest iron
IX Cracks first, and the wildest horses bend their necks
At the pull of the smallest curb.

Pride? In a slave?
This girl is guilty of a double insolence,
Breaking the given laws and boasting of it.
Who is the man here,
She or I, if this crime goes unpunished?
Sister's child, or more than sister's child,
Or closer yet in blood — she and her sister
Win bitter death for this!

Go, some of you,
Arrest Ismenê. I accuse her equally.

[to SERVANTS]

FINAL VERSION. DF & RSF Wallingford

vv. 489 s88

hysterical

Bring her: you will find her skidding in the house there.

Her mind's a traitor: crimes kept in the dark

Cry for light, and the guardian brain shudders;

But how much worse than this

Is brazen boasting of barefaced anarchy!

ANTIGONE: Creon, what more do you want than my death?

CREON: Nothing.

That gives me everything.

ANTIGONE: Then I beg you: kill me.

This talking is a great weariness: your words

Are distasteful to me, and I am sure that mine

Seem so to you. And yet they should not seem so:

I should have praise and honour for what I have done.

All these men here would praise me

Were their lips not frozen tight with fear of you.

Ah the good fortune of kings,

Licensed to say and do whatever they please!

[bitterly]

CREON: You are alone here in that opinion.

ANTIGONE: No, they are with me. But they keep their tongues on a leash.

CREON: Maybe. But you are guilty, and they are not.

ANTIGONE: There is no guilt in the offices of the dead.

CREON: But Eteoclès -- was he not your brother too?

ANTIGONE: My brother too.

CREON: And you insult his memory?

ANTIGONE: The dead man would not say that I insult it.

CREON: He would: for you honour a traitor as much as him.

ANTIGONE: His own brother, traitor or not, and equal in blood.

[softly]

vv. 518 sqq. [6]

CREON: He made war on his country. Eteoclês defended it.

ANTIGONE: Nevertheless, there are honours due all the dead.

CREON: But not the same for the wicked as for the just.

ANTIGONE: Ah Creon, Creon,
Which of us can say what the UNDEX gods hold wicked?

CREON: An enemy is an enemy, even dead.

ANTIGONE: It is my nature to join in love, not in hate.

CREON: Go join them, then; and if you must have love,
Find it in Hell! [finally losing patience]

CHORAGOS: But see, Ismenê comes: [enter ISMENE, guarded]
Those tears are loving-sisterly, the cloud
That shadows her eyes rains down showery sorrow,
Dimming her lovely cheeks.

CREON: You too, Ismenê,
Snake in my ordered house, sucking my blood
Stealthily -- and all the time I never knew
That these two sisters were aiming at my throne!

Ismenê,
Do you confess your share in this crime, or deny it?
Answer me.

ISMENE: Yes, if she will let me say so. I am guilty.

ANTIGONE: No, Ismeneê. You have no right to say so. [coldly]

ISMENE: You would not help me, and I would not have you help me.

ISMENE: But now I know what you meant; and I have come
To join you, proud to share your troubles with you.

DF & RSF Wallingford FINAL VERSION

vv 542 sqq

(7)

**ANTIGONE:** The dead man and the gods who rule the dead
Know whose act this was. Words are not friends.

**ISMENE:** Do not refuse me, Antigonê! I want to die with you:
I too have a duty that I must discharge to the dead.

**ANTIGONE:** You shall not lessen my death by sharing it.

**ISMENE:** What do I care for life when you are dead?

**ANTIGONE:** Ask Creon. You're always hanging on his opinions.

**ISMENE:** You laugh at me. Tell me, why do you laugh at me?

**ANTIGONE:** It's a joyless laughter, Ismenê.

**ISMENE:** But can I do nothing?

**ANTIGONE:** Yes. Save yourself. I shall not envy you.

**ISMENE:** Antigonê, Antigonê, tell me what I must do.

**ANTIGONE:** Live. That was your choice. Mine was: to die.

**ISMENE:** But I begged you with all my heart not to make that choice!

**ANTIGONE:** There are those who will praise you; I shall have honour, too.

**ISMENE:** But we are equally guilty!

**ANTIGONE:** No more, Ismenê.
You are alive; but ~~forever and ever~~ I belong to Death.

**ISMENE:**

**CREON:** Gentlemen, I beg you to observe these girls:
One has just now lost her mind; the other
Has obviously never had a mind to lose.

[to the CHORUS, daily

**ISMENE:** Grief teaches the steadiest minds to waver, King.

**CREON:** Yours certainly did, when you assumed guilt with the guilty!

**ISMENE:** But how could I bear to live without her?

**CREON:** You are.
She is already dead.

**ISMENE:** But your own son's bride!

DF & RSF FINAL VERSION

vv 569 sqq. [8]

CREON: There are plenty of places for him to push his plow. [brutally]

ISMENE: I'll have no dirty woman for my son's wife!

ISMENE: O dearest Haimon, how your father wrongs you!

ISMENE:

CREON: I've had enough of you and your chatter of marriage!

CHORAGOS: Do you really intend to steal this girl from your son?

CREON: No; Death will do that for me.

CHORAGOS: Then she must die?

CREON: You take the words out of my mouth. [ironically]

-- Enough of this talk!

You, there, take them away and guard them well:

For they are but women, and even brave men run

When DAXEN they see Death coming.

[exeunt ISMENE, ANTIGONE, and GUARDS; manet CREON.

Q-D E III

CHORUS

Love, unconquerable
Waster of rich men, keeper
Of warm lights and all-night vigil
In the soft face of a girl:
Sea-wanderer, forest-visitor!
Even the pure Immortals can not escape you,
And mortal man, in his one day's dusk,
Trembles before your glory.

[strophe

Surely you swerve upon ruin
The just man's consenting heart,
As here you have made bright anger
Strike between father and son --
Andn none has conquered but Love;
A girl's glance working the will of Heaven:
Pleasure to her alone who mocks us,
Merciless Aphrodite.

[antistrophe

CHORAGOS:

But I can no longer stand in awe of this,
Nor, seeing what I see, keep back my tears.
Here is Antigonê, passing to that chamber
Where all find sleep at last.

Lydia: the Kommós will follow this.

Final Version: DF č RSF: Harvard Club.

Post-Kommós: vv 883 sqq [1]

[CREON interrupts impatiently:

CREON: If dirges and planned lamentations could put off death,
Men would be singing for ever.

[to the SERVANTS:

Take her, go!

You know your orders: take her to the vault
And leave her alone there. And if she lives or dies,
That's her affair, not ours: our hands are clean.

ANTIGONE: O tomb, vaulted bride-bed in eternal rock,
I am coming! Soon I shall be with my own again
Where PERPETUAL PERSEPHONE welcomes the thin ghosts underground:
And I shall see my father again, and you, mother,
And dearest Polyneicês --

dearest indeed

To me, since it was my hand
That washed him clean and poured the ritual wine:
And my reward is death before my time!

And yet, as men's hearts know, I have done no wrong,
I have not sinned before God. Or if I have,
I shall know the truth in death. But if the guilt
Lies upon Creon who judged me, then, I pray,
May his punishment equal my own.

CHORAGOS: O passionate heart,
Unyielding, tormented still by the same winds!

CREON: Her guards shall have ample cause to regret their delaying.

ANTIGONE: Ah, that voice has come very close to death!

ODE IV

CHORUS:

Thus all Danaê's beauty was locked away
In a brazen cell where the sunlight could not come:
A small room, still as any grave, enclosed her.
Yet she was a princess too,
And Zeus in a rain of gold poured love upon her.
O child, child,
No power in wealth or war
Or tough sea-blackened ships
Can win against unswerving Destiny!

[strophe 1]

And Dryas' son also, that furious king,
Bore the god's prisoning anger for his pride:
Sealed up by Dionysos in cold stone,
His madness died among echoes.
But in the end he learned what dreadful power
His tongue had mocked:
For he had profaned the revels,
And fired the wrath of the nine
Implacable Sisters that love the sound of the flute.

[antistrophe 1]

And old men tell a half-remembered tale
Of horror done where a dark ledge splits the sea
And a double surf beats on the gréy shôres:
How a king's new woman, sick
With hatred for the queen he had imprisoned,
Ripped out his two sons' eyes with her bloody hands
While grinning Arês watched the shuttle plunge
Four times, four blind wounds crying for revenge,

[strophe 2]

Crying, tears and blood mingled. Piteously born,
Those sons whose mother was of heavenly birth!
Her father was the god of the North Wind,
And she was cradled by gales;
She raced with young colts on the glittering hills
And walked untrammeled in the open light:
But in her marriage deathless Fate found means
To build a tomb like yours for all her joy.

[antistrophe 2]

Lydia: Double space, triple between strophes.

A M D G

ODE IV

CHORUS:

Thus all Danaê's beauty was locked away
[strophe 1
In a brazen cell where the sunlight could not come:
A small room, still as any grave, enclosed her.
Yet she was a princess too
And Zeus in a rain of gold poured love upon her.
O child, child,
No power in wealth or war
Or tough sea-blackened ships
Can win against unswerving Destiny!

And Dryas' son also, that furious king,
[antistrophe 1
Bore the god's prisoning anger for his pride:
Dionysos sealed him up in frosty stone.
His madness died with its echoes,
And then he learned what power he had reviled
With his rash tongue:
For he had broken the revels,
And fired the wrath of the nine
Implacable sisters that love the sound of the flute.

And old men tell a half-remembered tale
Of horror done where darkkrakes splits the sea
a dark ledged
And a double surf beats on the grey shores:
How a king's new woman, hot
With hatred for the queen he had imprisoned,
Ripped out his two sons' eyes with her bloody hands;
And grinning Arês watched the shuttle plunge
Four times, four blind wounds crying for revenge:

Crying, tears and blood mingled! Piteously born,
Those sons whose mother was of heavenly birth!

Maximilian, who taxes the god of the North wind,
Her father was the white god of the North wind,
And she was cradled by gales;

She raced with young colts on the stony hills,
And walked untrammeled in the open light:

But in her marriage the deathless Fates found means
To build a tomb like yours for all her joy.

BOB: Some things to be taken up in the Commentary:

I. Brief restatement of the aim of the trans. Refer them to the notes to Alkestis.

II. Notes on production:

a] Setting

b] Costumes (incl. masks, &c)

c] Direction (restraint of action, emphasis on declamation, &c)

d] Location and function of Chorus

III. Notes on problems arising from the text itself:

a] Time-sequence (explain how the hell Tiggy was able to get away with burying Polly by dawn; also, when she came back & got herself pinched by the Civil Guard)

b] The character of the Sentry (is he comic? a comedy. cop? or is he a kind of Thomas Hardy reduction of the tragedy to a lower scale?)

c] The symbolic burial (Dopes will not understand the ritual nature of casting a handful of dust on the corpse; or why Tiggy insists so on the UNWRITTEN LAWS OF HEAVEN.)

d] The character of Ismenê (especially in the trial-scene: what is the babe trying to do? exculpate herself? or, hysperically, destroy herself?)

That's all I can think of at the moment. If anything more occurs to you, let me know. This won't be written until the very end, anyhow.

DF

Oh, while I'm on the subject of problems: The text indicates 2 messengers. Jebb says that the Deuteragonist probably took the parts of both. Can't we reduce this to one Messenger? After all, The angelos gallops into the house to see if Eurydicê is up to serious trouble, or if she's simply leading the local chapter of the Colonial Dames in a dirge; and he comes out again with the news that she has bumped herself off. Let's make it one Messenger, e pluribus unum.

DF

CONTENTS

TABULA RERUM

PROLOGUE :

Prélogos [Antigonê, Ismenê]

Párodos [Chorus]

SCENE
- Episode I

[Creon, Sentry, Chorus]

Ode I [Chorus]

Episode II [Sentry, Creon, Antigonê, Ismenê, Chorus]

Ode II [Chorus]

11 Episode III

[Haimon, Creon, Chorus]

Ode III [Chorus]

'' Episode IV : Kommós and Metakommós [Antigonê, Creon, Chorus]

Ode IV [Chorus]

11
- Episode V

[Teiresias, Creon, Chorus]

Ode V : Hypórchema [Chorus]

Éxodos [Messenger, Creon, Second Messenger, Eurydicê, Chorus]

Commentary

Acknowledgments

PÆAN:

["PROLOGUE page 1. Variation of opening speech.", "ANTIGONE: Ismene, dear sister,\n\nYou would think that we had already suffered enough\n\nFor the curse on Oedipus: *the nemesis of allills, nemesis of all

["PRESERVATION PHOTOCOPY: ORIGINAL MATERIAL RESTRICTED", "ISMENE: Bury him! You have just said the new law forbids it.", "ANTIGONE: He is my brother. And he is your brother, too.", "ISMENE: But think of the danger! Think what Creon will do!", "ANTIGONE: Creon is not strong enough to stand in my way.", "ISMENE: (stage: This speech is O. K.)*", "ANTIGONE:\n\nIf that is what you think,\nI should not want you, even if you asked to come.\nYou have made your choice, you can be what you want to be.\nBut I will bury him; and if I must die,\nI say that this crime is holy and I shall lie down\nand I shall be as dear\nWith him in death, asSUBMINATEASSUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUBMINATEASUB

(2)

To announce it publicly; and the penalty is no small matter:
Stoning to death in the public square!

There it is,
And now you must show what you are -- whether truly great,
Or the degenerate daughter of a once great house.

ISMENE: Poor dear Antigonê! But what can I do about it?

ANTIGONE: You must decide whether you will help me or not.

ISMENE: Help you in what? I don't understand you at all.

ANTIGONE: Ismenê, I must bury him. Will you come?

ISMENE: Bury him! But you have just said the law forbids it!

ANTIGONE: He is my brother; and yours, even if you disown him.

ANTIGONE: Creon is not strong enough to keep me from what is mine.

ISMENE: Ah sister!

Oldipus died, everyone hating him

For what his own search brought to light, his eyes
Ripped out by his own hand; and Iocastê died,

His mother and wife at once: she twisted the cords
That strangled her life; and our two brothers died,
Each killed by the other's sword. And we are left:

But oh, Antigonê,

Think how much more terrible than these

Our own death would be if we should go against Creon
And do what he has forbidden! We are only women,

We can not fight with men, Antigonê!

The law is strong, we must give in to the law

In this thing, and in worse. I beg the Dead

To forgive me, but I am helpless: I must yield

CE

(1)

CREON:

Gentlemen: I have the honour to inform you that our Ship of State, which recent storms have threatened to destroy, has come safely to harbour at last, guided by the merciful wisdom of Heaven. I have summoned you here this morning because I know that I can depend upon you: your devotion to King Laios was absolute; you never hesitated in your duty to our late ruler Oidipus; and when Oidipus died, your loyalty was transferred to his children. Unfortunately, as you know, his two sons, the princes Eteoclès and Polyneicès, have killed each other in battle; and I, as the next in blood, have succeeded to the full power of the throne.

I am aware, of course, that no Ruler can expect complete loyalty from his subjects until he has been tested in office. Nevertheless, I say to you at the very outset that I have nothing but contempt for the kind of Governor who is afraid, for whatever reason, to follow the course that he knows is best for the State; and as for the man who sets private friendship above the public welfare, -- I have no use for him, either. I call God to witness that if I saw my country headed for the rocks, I should not be afraid to speak out plainly; and it goes without saying that I would never have any dealings with an enemy of the people. No one values friendship more highly than I; but we must remember that friends made at the risk of capsizing our Ship are not real friends at all.

These are principles that I value above all others. This is my platform, at any rate, and that is why I have made the following decision concerning the sons of Oidipus: Eteoclès, who died as a man should die, fighting for his country, is to be buried with full military honours, with all the ceremony that is usual when the greatest heroes die; but his brother Polyneicès,

(2)

who broke his exile to come back with fire and sword against
his native city and the shrines of his fathers' gods, whose
one idea was to spill the blood of his blood and sell his own
people into slavery -- Polyneicês, I say, is to have no burial:
no man is to touch him or say the least prayer for him; he
shall lie on the plain, unburied; and the birds and the scaveng-
ing dogs can do with him whatever they like.

> This is my command, and you can see the policy behind it. As long as I am King, no traitor is going to be honoured with the loyal man. But whoever shows by word and deed that he is on the side of the State, -- he shall have my respect while he is living, and my reverence when he is dead.

CHORAGOS: If that is your will, Creon son of Menexippus,
You have the right to enforce it: we are yours.

CREON: That is my will. Take care that you do your part.

CHORAGOS: We are old men: let the younger ones carry it out.

CREON: I do not mean that: the sentries have been appointed.

CHORAGOS: Then what is it that you would have us do?

CREON: You will give no support to whoever breaks this law.

CHORAGOS: Only a crazy man is in love with death!

CREON: And death it is; yet money talks, and the wisest
sometimes have been known to count a few coins too many.

[enter SENTRY from L.

(4)

and so on.

Pause. No sign from CREON.

Given it burial that way, and
Gone. . .

Long pause. CREON finally speaks with deadly control:

SENTRY:

I swear I

Do not know! You mustn't
I don't know, believe me!

Listen:

The ground was dry, and not a sign of digging, no,

Not a wheeltrack in the dust, no trace of anyone.

There it was,

The strangest ---

Look:

It was not I!

(5)

CREON'S rage has been mounting steadily, but the SENTRY is too intent upon his story to notice it.

And the *damned* thing fell to me. So here I am,

No happier to be here than you are to have me:

Nobody likes the man who brings bad news.

CHORAGOS: I have been wondering, King: can it be that the gods have *done* this?

CREON:

Stop!

furiously

Must you doddering wrecks

Go out of your heads entirely? 'The gods!'

Intolerable!

A pious thought! --

No, from the very beginning

Money!

sententiously

There 's nothing in the world so demoralising as money.

(6)

Down go your cities,
Homes gone, men gone, honest hearts corrupted,
Crookedness of all kinds, and all for money!

But you --!

[to SENTRY]

I swear by God and by the throne of God,

The man who has done this thing shall pay for it!

Find that man, bring him here to me, or your death

Will be the least of your problems: I'll string you up

Alive, and there will be certain ways to make you

Discover your employer before you die;

And the process may teach you a lesson you seem to have missed:

The dearest profit is sometimes all too dear:

That depends on the source. Do you understand me?

A fortune won is often misfortune.

SENTRY: King, may I speak?

CREON:

Your very voice distresses me.

SENTRY: Are you sure that it is my voice, and not your conscience?

CREON: By God, he wants to analyse me now!

SENTRY: It is not what I say, but what has been done, that hurts you.

CREON: You talk too much.

SENTRY:

Maybe; but I've done nothing.

CREON: Sold your soul for some silver: that's all you've done.

SENTRY: How dreadful it is when the right judge judges wrong!

CREON: Your figures of speech

May entertain you now; but unless you bring me the man,

You will get little profit from them in the end.

exit CREON into the Palace.

Space

ODB

CHORUS:

Numberless are the world's wonders, but none
More wonderful than man; the stormgrey sea
Yields to his prows, the huge crests bear him high;
Earth, holy and inexhaustible, is graven
With shining furrows where his plows have gone
Year after year, the timeless labor of stallions.

The lightboned birds and beasts that cling to cover,
The lithe fish lighting their reaches of dim water,
All are taken, tamed in the net of his mind;
The lion on the hill, the wild horse windy-maned,
Resign to him; and his blunt yoke has broken
The sultry shoulders of the mountain bull.

Words also, and thought as rapid as air,
He fashions to his good use; statecraft is his,
And his the skill that deflects the arrows of snow,
The spears of winter rain: from every wind
He has made himself secure--from all but one:
In the late wind of death he can not stand.

O clear intelligence, force beyond all measure!
O fate of man, working both good and evil!
When the laws are kept, how proudly his city stands!
When the laws are broken, what of his city then?
Never may the anarchic man find rest at my hearth,
Never be it said that my thoughts are his thoughts.

1

Re-enter SENTRY leading Antigone.

[Enter CREON, C.]

SENTRY: O King, [expansively]
A man should never be too sure of anything:
I would have sworn
That you'd not see me here again: your anger
Frightened me so, and the things you threatened me with;
But how could I tell then
That I'd be able to solve the case so soon?

Here is this woman. She is the
Quilty one: We found her trying to bury him.

CREON: But this is Antigone! Why have you brought her here?

CREON: Is this the truth?

[severely]

(2)

We went back and brushed the dust away from the body,
The flesh was soft now by this time, and stinking,
So we sat on a hill to windward and kept guard.
No napping this time! We kept each other awake.
But nothing happened until the white round sun
Whirled in the centre of the round sky over us:
Then, suddenly,

I have seen

A mother bird come back to a stripped nest, heard
Her crying bitterly a broken note or two
For the young ones stolen. Just so, when this girl
Found the bare corpse, and all her love's work wasted,
She wept, and cried on Heaven to damn the hands
That had done this thing.

And then she brought more dust
And sprinkled wine three times for her brother's ghost.
We ran and took her at once. She was not afraid,
Not even when we charged her with what she had done.
She denied nothing.

And this was a comfort to me,
And some uneasiness: for it is a good thing
To escape from death, but it is no great pleasure
To bring death to a friend.

Yet I always say

(3)

CREON: And you, Antigonê,
slowly, dangerously
You with your head hanging, -- do you confess this thing?

ANTIGONE: I do. I deny nothing.
simply

CREON: You may go.
to SENTRY
exit SENTRY.
to ANTIGONE.
Tell me, tell me briefly:
Had you heard my proclamation touching this matter?

ANTIGONE: I dared.
It was not God's proclamation. That final Justice
That rules the world below makes no such laws.
For men.

Your edict, King, was strong,
All your strength is weakness,
But all too weak to pit itself against
The immortal unrecorded laws of God.
They are not merely now: they were, and shall be,
Operative for ever, beyond man utterly.

I knew I must die, even without your decree:
I am only mortal. And if I must die
Now, before it is my time to die,
Surely this is no hardship: can any one
Living, as I live, have all about me
Think Death less than a friend? This death of mine
Is of no importance; but if I had left my brother

(4)

CREON: She has much to learn.
The inflexible heart breaks first, the toughest iron
Cracks first, and the wildest horses bend their necks
At the pull of the smallest curb.

Pride? In a slave?

This girl is guilty of a double insolence,
Breaking the given laws and boasting of it.
Who is the man here,
She or I, if this crime goes unpunished?
Sister's child, or more than sister's child,
Or closer yet in blood -- she and her sister
Win bitter death for this!

Go, some of you, to SERVANTS
Arrest Ismenê. I accuse her equally.
Bring her: you will find her hysterical in the house there.
Her mind's a traitor: crimes kept in the dark
Cry for light, and the guardian brain shudders;
But how much worse than this
Is brazen boasting of barefaced anarchy!

CREON: Nothing.

(5)

That gives me everything.

ANTIGONE: Then I beg you: kill me.
This talking is a great weariness: your words
Are distasteful to me, and I am sure that mine
Seem so to you. And yet they should not seem so:
I should have praise and honour for what I have done.
All these men here would praise me
Were their lips not frozen in fear of you.
Ah the good fortune of kings,
Licensed to say and do whatever they please!

[bitterly]

ANTIGONE: No, they are with me. But they keep their tongues in a leash.

ANTIGONE: There is no guilt in the dead.

CREON: But Eteocles -- was he not your brother too?

ANTIGONE: My brother too.

[softly]

CREON: He made war on his country. Eteocles defended it.

ANTIGONE: Ah Creon, Creon,
Which of us can say what the gods hold wicked?

ANTIGONE: It is my nature to join in love, not hate.

(6)

CREON: Go join them, then; end if you must have your love,
Find it in Hell!

finally losing patience:

CHORAGOS: But see, Ismenê comes:
Those tears are ~~all~~ sisterly, the cloud
That shadows her eyes rains down showery sorrow
Dimming her lovely cheeks.

ANTIGONE: No, Ismenê. You have no right to say so. coldly
You would not help me, and I would not have you help me.

ISMENE: But now I know what you meant; and I have come
To join you, ~~proud to share your troubles with you.~~

ANTIGONE: The dead man and the gods who rule the dead
Know whose act this was. Words are not friends.

ISMENE: Do not refuse me, Antigone! I want to die with you:
I too have a duty that I must discharge to the dead.

ANTIGONE: You shall not lessen my death by sharing it.

ISMENE: What do I care for life when you are dead?

ANTIGONE: Ask Creon. You're always hanging on his opinions.

(7)

ISMENE: You Laugh at me. Tell me, Why, do you laugh at me?

ANTIGONE: It's a joyless laughter, Ismenê.

ISMENE: But can I do nothing?

ANTIGONE: Yes, Save yourself. I shall not envy you.

ISMENE: Antigone, Antigone, tell me what I must do.

ANTIGONE: Live. That was your choice. Mine was: to die.

ISMENE: But I begged you with all my heart not to make that choice!

ANTIGONE: There are those who will praise you; I shall have honour, too.

ISMENE: But we are equally guilty!

ANTIGONE: No more, Ismenê.

You are alive, but I belong to Death.

CREON: Gentlemen, I beg you to observe these girls:
One has just now lost her mind; the other
Has obviously never had a mind to lose.

ISMENE: Grief teaches the steadiest minds to waver, King.

CREON: Yours certainly did, when you assumed guilt with the guilty!

ISMENE: But how could I go on living without her?

CREON: You are.

She is already dead.

ISMENE: But your own son's bride!

CREON: There are places for him to push his plow. I'll have no dirty woman for my son's wife!

CREON: I've had enough of your chitter of marriage!

CHORAGOS: Then she must die?

(1)

CHORAGOS: But here is Haimon, King, the last of all your sons.
Is it grief for Antigonê that brings him here,
And bitterness at being robbed of his bride?

[enter HAIMON]

CREON: We shall soon see, and no need of diviners.

-- Son,

You have heard my final judgment on that girl:
Have you come here hating me, or have you come
With deference and with love, whatever I do?

HAIMON: I am your son, father. You are my guide. [with cold irony]
You make things clear for me, and I obey you.
No marriage means more to me than your continuing wisdom.

CREON: Good. That is the way to behave: subordinate
Everything else, my son, to your father's will.
This is what a man prays for, that he may get
Sons attentive and dutiful in his house,
Each one hating his father's enemies,
Honouring his father's friends. But if his sons
Fail him, if they turn out unprofitably.
What has he fathered but trouble for himself
And amusement for the malicious?

So you are right
Not to lose your head over this woman.
Your pleasure with her would soon grow cold, Haimon,
And then you'd have a hellcat in bed and elsewhere.
Let her find her husband in Hell!
Of all the people in this city, only she
Has had contempt for my law and broken it.

(2)

Do you want me to show myself a lien before the people?
Or to break my sworn word? No, and I will not.
The woman dies.

I suppose she'll plead 'family ties'. Well, let her.
If I permit my own family to rebel,
How shall I earn the world's obedience?
Show me the man who keeps his house in hand,
He's fit for public authority.

I'll have no dealings
With law-breakers, critics of the government:
Whoever is chosen to govern should be obeyed --
Must be obeyed, in all things, great and small,
Just and unjust! O Haimon,
The man who knows how to obey, and that man only,
Knows how to give commands when the time comes.
You can depend on him, no matter how fast
The spears come: he's a good soldier, he'll stick it out.
Anarchy, anarchy! Show me a greater evil!
This is why cities tumble and the great houses rain down,
This is what scatters armies!

No, no: good lives are made so by discipline.

We keep the laws then, and the lawmakers,
And no woman shall seduce us. If we must lose,
Let's lose to a man, at least! Is a woman stronger than we?

CHORAGOS: Unless time has rusted my wits,
What you say, King, is said with point and dignity.

(3)

HAIMON:

Father:

[boyishly earnest]

Reason is God's crowning gift to man, and you are right
To warn me against losing mine. I can not say --
I hope that I shall never want to say! -- that you
Have reasoned badly. Yet there are other men
Who can reason, too; and their opinions might be helpful.

You are not in a position to know everything
That people say or do, or what they feel:
Your temper terrifies them -- everyone

Will tell you only what you like to hear.

But I, at any rate, can listen; and I have heard them
Muttering and whispering in the dark about this girl.

They say no woman has ever, so unreasonably,
Died so shameful a death for a generous act:

'She covered her brother's body. Is this indecent?'

'She kept him from dogs and vultures. Is this a crime?'

'Death? -- She should have all the honour that we can give her!'

This is the way they talk out there in the City.

You must believe me:

Nothing is closer to me than your happiness.

What could be closer? Must not any son
Value his father's fortune as his father does his?

I beg you, do not be unchangeable:

Do not believe that you alone can be right.

The man who thinks that,

The man who maintains that only he has the power

To reason correctly, the gift to speak, the soul --

(4)

A man like that, when you know him, turns out empty.

It is not reason never to yield to reason!

In flood time you can see how some trees bend,

And because they bend, even their twigs are safe,

While inflexible trees are torn up, roots and all.

And the same thing happens in sailing:

Make your sheet fast, never slacken, -- and upsy-daisy!

Head over heels and under:

Down and over you go, and there's your voyage.

Forget you are angry! Let yourself be moved!

I know I am young; but please let me say this:

The ideal condition

Would be, I admit, that men should be right by instinct;

But since we are all too likely to go astray,

The reasonable thing is to learn from those who can teach.

CHORAGOS: You will do well to listen to him, King,
If what he says is sensible. And you, Haimon,
Must listen to your father. -- Both speak well.

CREON: You consider it right for a man of my years and experience
To go to school to a boy?

HAIMON: It is not right
If I am wrong. But if I am young, and right,
What does my age matter?

CREON: You think it right to stand up for an anarchist?

HAIMON: Not at all. I pay no respect to criminals.

CREON: Then she is not a criminal?

HAIMON: The City would deny it, to a man.

CREON: And the City proposes to teach me how to rule?

(5)

HAIMON: Ah. Who is it that's talking like a boy now?

CREON: My voice is the one voice giving orders in this City!

HAIMON: It is no City if it takes orders from one voice.

CREON: The State is the King!

HAIMON: Yes, if the State is a desert.

[pause]

CREON: This boy, it seems, has sold out to a woman.

HAIMON: Yes, If you are a woman: my concern is only for you.

CREON: God, your 'concern'! In a public brawl with your father!

HAIMON: How about you, in a public brawl with justice?

CREON: With justice, when all that I do is within my rights?

HAIMON: You have no right to trample on God's right.

CREON: Fool, adolescent fool! Taken in by a woman!

[completely out of control]

HAIMON: You'll never see me taken in by anything vile.

CREON: Every word you say is for her!

HAIMON: And for you.
And for me. And for the gods under the earth.

[quietly, darkly]

CREON: You'll never marry her while she lives.

HAIMON: Then she must die. -- But her death will cause another.

CREON: Another?
Have you lost your senses? Is this an open threat?

HAIMON: There is no threat in speaking to emptiness.

CREON: By God, you'll regret this superior tone of yours!
You are the empty one!

HAIMON: If you were not my father,
I'd say you were *perverse*. *frivolous*.

CREON: You girlstruck fool, don't play at words with me!

HAIMON: I am sorry. You prefer blank silence.

CREON: Now, by God -- !

(6)

I swear, by all the gods in heaven above us,
You'll watch it, I swear you shall!

[to the servants]
Bring her out!

Bring the bitch out! Let her die before his eyes,
Here, this instant, with her bridegroom beside her!

HAIMON: Not here, no; she will not die here, King.
And you will never see my face again.
Go on raving as long as you've a friend to endure you.

[tiredly]

[exit HAIMON.]

CHORAGOS: Gone, gone.
Creon, a young man in a rage is dangerous!

CREON: Let him do, or dream to do, more than a man can.
He shall not save these girls from death.

CHORAGOS: These girls?
You have sentenced them both?

CREON: No, you are right.
I will not kill the one whose hands are clean.

CHORAGOS: But Antigonê?

CREON: I will carry her far away
[somberly]
Out there in the wilderness, and lock her
Living in a vault of stone. She shall have food,
As the custom is, to absolve the State of her death.
And there let her pray to the gods of Hell:
They are her only gods:
Perhaps she may gain from them an escape from death,
Or learn from them,
though late,

That piety shown the dead is pity in vain.

[exit CREON.]

O D E L L

CHORUS

[strophe 1]

Surely you swerve upon ruin
The just man's consenting heart,
As here you have made bright anger
Strike between father and son --
And none has conquered but Love!

[antistrophe 1]

Choragos: But I can no longer stand in awe of this,
Nor, seeing what I see, keep back my tears.
Here is Antigonê, passing to that chamber
Where all find sleep at last.

ANTIGONE: Look upon me, friends, and pity me
Turning back at the night's edge to say
Goodbye to the sun that shines for me no longer;
Now sleepy Death
Summons me down to Acheron, that cold shore:
There is no bridesong there, nor any music.

CHORUS: Yet not unpraised, not without a kind of honour,
You walk at last into the underworld;
Untouched by sickness, broken by no sword.
What woman has ever found your way to death?

ANTIGONE: How often I have heard the story of Niobê,
Tantalos' wretched daughter, how the stone
Clung fast about her, ivy-close: and they say
The rain falls endlessly
And sifting soft snow; her tears are never done.
I feel the loneliness of her death in mine.

CHORUS: But she was born of heaven, and you
Are woman, woman-born. If her death is yours,
A mortal woman's, is this not for you
Glory in our world and in the world beyond?

ANTIGONE: You laugh at me. Ah, friends, friends,
Can you not wait until I am dead? O Thebes,
O men many-charioted, in love with Fortune,
Dear springs of Dirce, sacred Theban grove,
Be witnesses for me, denied all pity,
Unjustly judged and think a word of love
For her whose path turns

Under dark earth, where there are no more tears.

CHORUS: You have passed beyond human daring and come at last
Into a place of stone where Justice sits.
I can not tell
What shape of your father's guilt appears in this.

ANTIGONE: You have touched it at last: that bridal bed
Unspeakable, horror of son and mother mingling:
Their crime, infection of all our family!
O Oedipus, father and brother!
Your marriage strikes from the grave to murder mine.
I have been a stranger here in my own land:
All my life
The blasphemy of my birth has followed me.

CHORUS: Reverence is a virtue, but strength
Lives in established law; that must prevail.
You have made your choice,
Your death is the doing of your conscious hand.

ANTIGONE: Then let me go, since all your words are bitter, epode
And the very light of the sun is cold to me.
Lead me to my vigil, where I must have
Neither love nor lamentation; no song, but silence.