Antigone (ca. 441 B.C.E.) By Sophocles (city-state of Athens, present-day Greece) Translated from the Greek by Robert Fagles CHARACTERS ANTIGONE daughter of Oedipus and Jocasta ISMENE sister of Antigone A CHORUS of old Theban citizens and their LEADER CREON king of Thebes, uncle of Antigone and Ismene A SENTRY HAEMON son of Creon and Eurydice TIRESIAS a blind prophet A MESSENGER EURYDICE wife of Creon Guards, attendants, and a boy TIME AND SCENE: The royal house of Thebes. It is still night, and the invading armies of Argos have just been driven from the city. Fighting on opposite sides, the sons of Oedipus, Eteocles and Polynices, have killed each other in combat. Their uncle, CREON, is now king of Thebes. Enter ANTIGONE, slipping through the central doors of the palace. She motions to her sister, ISMENE, who follows her cautiously toward an altar at the center of the stage. ANTIGONE: My own flesh and blood—dear sister, dear Ismene, how many griefs our father Oedipus handed down! Do you know one, I ask you, one grief that Zeus will not perfect for the two of us1 1 the two of us: the intimate bond between the two sisters (and the two brothers) is emphasized in the original Greek by an untranslatable linguistic usage—the dual, a set of endings for verbs, nouns and adjectives that is used only when two subjects are concerned (there is a different set of endings—the plural—for more than two). Significantly, Antigone no longer uses these forms to speak of herself and her sister after Ismene refuses to help her bury their brother. [all footnotes are from the translator] 1 while we still live and breathe? There's nothing, 5 no pain—our lives are pain2—no private shame, no public disgrace, nothing I haven't seen in your griefs and mine. And now this: an emergency decree, they say, the Commander has just now declared for all of Thebes. 10 What, haven't you heard? Don't you see? The doom reserved for enemies3 marches on the ones we love the most. ISMENE: Not I, I haven't heard a word, Antigone. Nothing of loved ones, 15 no joy or pain has come my way, not since the two of us were robbed of our two brothers, both gone in a day, a double blow— not since the armies of Argos vanished, just this very night. I know nothing more, 20 whether our luck's improved or ruin's still to come. ANTIGONE: I thought so. That's why I brought you out here, past the gates, so you could hear in private. ISMENE: What's the matter? Trouble, clearly ... you sound so dark, so grim. 25 ANTIGONE: Why not? Our own brothers' burial! Hasn't Creon graced one with all the rites, disgraced the other? Eteocles, they say, has been given full military honors, rightly so—Creon has laid him in the earth 30 and he goes with glory down among the dead. But the body of Polynices, who died miserably— why, a city-wide proclamation, rumor has it, forbids anyone to bury him, even mourn him. He's to be left unwept, unburied, a lovely treasure 35 for birds that scan the field and feast to their heart's content. Such, I hear, is the martial law our good Creon 2 our lives are pain: the translation here is dictated rather by the logic of the passage than the actual Greek words. The phrase in Greek to which these words correspond is clearly corrupt (it seems to interrupt a culminating series of negatives with a positive), and no satisfactory emendation or explanation has ever been offered. 3 The doom reserved for enemies: this seems to refer to the fact that Creon had also exposed the corpses of the other six (non-Theban) attackers of the city; they are foreign "enemies," whereas Polynices, for Antigone, is still a "friend," since he was a blood relative. The exposure of the other bodies was part of the legend as we find it elsewhere (in Euripides' play The Suppliants, for example) and is referred to in Tiresias' speech to Creon later in our play (1202-5). Some scholars interpret the Greek differently, to mean "evils planned by enemies," i.e., by Creon. 2 lays down for you and me—yes, me, I tell you— and he's coming here to alert the uninformed in no uncertain terms, 40 and he won't treat the matter lightly. Whoever disobeys in the least will die, his doom is sealed: stoning to death4 inside the city walls! There you have it. You'll soon show what you are, worth your breeding, Ismene, or a coward— 45 for all your royal blood. ISMENE: My poor sister, if things have come to this, who am I to make or mend them, tell me, what good am I to you? ANTIGONE: Decide. Will you share the labor, share the work? 50 ISMENE: What work, what's the risk? What do you mean? ANTIGONE: Raising her hands. Will you lift up his body5 with these bare hands and lower it with me? ISMENE: What? You'd bury him— when a law forbids the city? ANTIGONE: Yes! He is my brother and—deny it as you will— 55 your brother too. No one will ever convict me for a traitor. ISMENE: So desperate, and Creon has expressly— ANTIGONE: No, 4 stoning to death: a penalty which involves the community in the execution; it is therefore particularly appropriate in cases of treason, where the criminal has acted against the whole citizen body. It depends, of course, on the willingness of the citizens to carry it out, and it is noticeable that though Creon later refuses to accept Haemon's assertion that public opinion favors Antigone (776-82), he changes his mind about the penalty and substitutes one which does not require citizen participation. 5 Will you lift up his body . . . ? If she is to bury the body (and she speaks of "lifting" it), Antigone obviously needs Ismene's help; without it all she can do is perform a symbolic ritual—sprinkling the corpse with dust and pouring libations. 3 he has no right to keep me from my own. ISMENE: Oh my sister, think— 60 think how our own father died, hated, his reputation in ruins, driven on by the crimes he brought to light himself to gouge out his eyes with his own hands— then mother ... his mother and wife, both in one, 65 mutilating her life in the twisted noose— and last, our two brothers dead in a single day, both shedding their own blood, poor suffering boys, battling out their common destiny hand-to-hand. Now look at the two of us, left so alone ... 70 think what a death we'll die, the worst of all if we violate the laws and override the fixed decree of the throne, its power— we must be sensible. Remember we are women, we're not born to contend with men. Then too, 75 we're underlings, ruled by much stronger hands, so we must submit in this, and things still worse. I, for one, I'll beg the dead to forgive me— I'm forced, I have no choice—I must obey the ones who stand in power. Why rush to extremes? 80 It's madness, madness. ANTIGONE: I won't insist, no, even if you should have a change of heart, I'd never welcome you in the labor, not with me. So, do as you like, whatever suits you best— I will bury him myself. 85 And even if I die in the act, that death will be a glory. I will lie with the one I love and loved by him— an outrage sacred to the gods!6 I have longer to please the dead than please the living here: in the kingdom down below I'll lie forever. 90 Do as you like, dishonor the laws the gods hold in honor. ISMENE: I'd do them no dishonor ... but defy the city? I have no strength for that. ANTIGONE: You have your excuses. I am on my way, I will raise a mound for him, for my dear brother. 95 6 an outrage sacred to the gods: literally, "committing a holy crime." What is criminal in the eyes of Creon is holy in the eyes of the gods Antigone champions. 4 ISMENE: Oh Antigone, you're so rash—I'm so afraid for you! ANTIGONE: Don't fear for me. Set your own life in order. ISMENE: Then don't, at least, blurt this out to anyone. Keep it a secret. I'll join you in that, I promise. ANTIGONE: Dear god, shout it from the rooftops. I'll hate you 100 all the more for silence—tell the world! ISMENE: So fiery—and it ought to chill your heart. ANTIGONE: I know I please where I must please the most. ISMENE: Yes, if you can, but you're in love with impossibility. ANTIGONE: Very well then, once my strength gives out 105 I will be done at last. ISMENE: You're wrong from the start, you're off on a hopeless quest. ANTIGONE: If you say so, you will make me hate you, and the hatred of the dead, by all rights, will haunt you night and day. 110 But leave me to my own absurdity, leave me to suffer this—dreadful thing. I will suffer nothing as great as death without glory. Exit to the side.7 ISMENE: 7 EXIT ANTIGONE. There is of course no stage direction in our text. We suggest that Antigone leaves the stage here not only because after her speech she obviously has nothing more to say to Ismene, but also because the effect of her harsh dismissal of her sister would be weakened if she then stood silent while Ismene had the last word. We suggest that she starts out toward the side exit and Ismene speaks to her retreating figure before she herself goes off stage, but through the door into the palace. 5 Then go if you must, but rest assured, wild, irrational as you are, my sister, 115 you are truly dear to the ones who love you. Withdrawing to the palace. Enter a CHORUS, the old citizens of Thebes, chanting as the sun begins to rise. CHORUS:8 Glory!—great beam of the sun, brightest of all that ever rose on the seven gates of Thebes, you burn through night at last! Great eye of the golden day, 120 mounting the Dirce's banks you throw him back— the enemy out of Argos, the white shield, the man of bronze— he's flying headlong now the bridle of fate stampeding him with pain! And he had driven against our borders, 125 launched by the warring claims of Polynices— like an eagle screaming, winging havoc over the land, wings of armor shielded white as snow, a huge army massing, 130 crested helmets bristling for assault. He hovered above our roofs, his vast maw gaping closing down around our seven gates, his spears thirsting for the kill but now he's gone, look, 135 before he could glut his jaws with Theban blood or the god of fire put our crown of towers to the torch. He grappled the Dragon none can master—Thebes— the clang of our arms like thunder at his back! Zeus hates with a vengeance all bravado, 140 8 lines 117-179: The parados (literally, "the way past") is the name of the space between the end of the stage building and the end of the spectators' benches (see Introduction, pp. 19, 258). Through these two passageways the chorus made its entrance, proceeding to the orchestra, the circular dancing-floor in front of the stage building. The word parados is also used to denote the first choral song, the lines which the chorus chants as it marches in. This song is a victory ode, a celebration of the city's escape from capture, sack and destruction. The chorus imagines the enemy running in panic before the rising sun; their shields are white (122) perhaps because the name Argos suggests the adjective argos, which means "shining." The enemy assault of the previous day they compare to an eagle descending on its prey, but it was met and routed by a dragon (138); the Thebans believed that they were descended from dragons' teeth, which, sown in the soil by Cadmus, their first king, turned into armored men. Of all the seven chieftains who attacked the gates, Capaneus was the most violent and boastful; high on a scaling ladder he reached the top of the wall but was struck down by a lightning bolt of Zeus (147). The defeat of the other attackers is the work of Ares (154), the war god, who is also one of the patron deities of Thebes. The seven chieftains were all killed; all seven were stripped of their armor, which was then arranged on wooden frames in the likeness of a warrior. This is what the Greeks called a tropaion (our word "trophy"); the Greek word suggests "turning point," and in fact the trophy was set up at the point where the losing side first turned and ran. The god who engineered such reversals was Zeus Tropaios—"god of the breaking rout of battle" (159). In the last stanza the dancers address Victory, who is always represented in Greek art as a winged female figure; they look forward to the joys of peace, the revelry associated with the god Dionysus, born of a Theban mother. 6 the mighty boasts of men. He watched them coming on in a rising flood, the pride of their golden armor ringing shrill— and brandishing his lightning blasted the fighter just at the goal, 145 rushing to shout his triumph from our walls. Down from the heights he crashed, pounding down on the earth! And a moment ago, blazing torch in hand— mad for attack, ecstatic he breathed his rage, the storm 150 of his fury hurling at our heads! But now his high hopes have laid him low and down the enemy ranks the iron god of war deals his rewards, his stunning blows—Ares rapture of battle, our right arm in the crisis. 155 Seven captains marshaled at seven gates seven against their equals, gave their brazen trophies up to Zeus, god of the breaking rout of battle, all but two: those blood brothers, 160 one father, one mother—matched in rage, spears matched for the twin conquest--, clashed and won the common prize of death. But now for Victory! Glorious in the morning, joy in her eyes to meet our joy 165 she is winging down to Thebes, our fleets of chariots wheeling in her wake— Now let us win oblivion from the wars, thronging the temples of the gods in singing, dancing choirs through the night! 170 Lord Dionysus, god of the dance that shakes the land of Thebes, now lead the way! Enter CREON from the palace, attended by his guard. But look, the king of the realm is coming, Creon, the new man for the new day, whatever the gods are sending now ... 175 what new plan will he launch? Why this, this special session? Why this sudden call to the old men summoned at one command? CREON: My countrymen, the ship of state is safe. The gods who rocked her, 180 after a long, merciless pounding in the storm, have righted her once more. Out of the whole city I have called you here alone. Well I know, 7 first, your undeviating respect for the throne and royal power of King Laius. 185 Next, while Oedipus steered the land of Thebes, and even after he died, your loyalty was unshakable, you still stood by their children9. Now then, since the two sons are dead—two blows of fate in the same day, cut down by each other's hands, 190 both killers, both brothers stained with blood— as I am next in kin to the dead, I now possess the throne and all its powers. Of course you cannot know a man completely, his character, his principles, sense of judgment, 195 not till he's shown his colors, ruling the people, making laws. Experience, there's the test. As I see it, whoever assumes the task, the awesome task of setting the city's course, and refuses to adopt the soundest policies 200 but fearing someone, keeps his lips locked tight, he's utterly worthless. So I rate him now, I always have. And whoever places a friend above the good of his own country, he is nothing: I have no use for him. Zeus my witness, 205 Zeus who sees all things, always— I could never stand by silent, watching destruction march against our city, putting safety to rout, nor could I ever make that man a friend of mine who menaces our country. Remember this: 210 our country is our safety. Only while she voyages true on course can we establish friendships, truer than blood itself.10 Such are my standards. They make our city great. Closely akin11 to them I have proclaimed, 215 just now, the following decree to our people concerning the two sons of Oedipus. Eteocles, who died fighting for Thebes, excelling all in arms: he shall be buried, crowned with a hero's honors, the cups we pour 220 to soak the earth and reach the famous dead. But as for his blood brother, Polynices, who returned from exile, home to his father-city and the gods of his race, consumed with one desire— to burn them roof to roots—who thirsted to drink 225 his kinsmen's blood and sell the rest to slavery: that man—a proclamation has forbidden the city 9 their children: i.e., the children of Oedipus and Jocasta. 10 truer than blood itself: this is an attempt to bring out in English the double meaning of the word translated "friendships"; the Greek word philous means both "friends" and "close relations." 11 closely akin: the Greek word means literally "brother to." But Creon is in fact disregarding the claims of kinship. 8 to dignify him with burial, mourn him at all. No, he must be left unburied, his corpse carrion for the birds and dogs to tear, 230 an obscenity for the citizens to behold! These are my principles. Never at my hands will the traitor be honored above the patriot. But whoever proves his loyalty to the state— I'll prize that man in death as well as life. 235 LEADER: If this is your pleasure, Creon, treating our city's enemy and our friend this way ... The power is yours, I suppose, to enforce it with the laws, both for the dead and all of us, the living. CREON: Follow my orders closely then, 240 be on your guard. LEADER: We are too old. Lay that burden on younger shoulders. CREON: No, no, I don't mean the body—I've posted guards already. LEADER: What commands for us then? What other service? CREON: See that you never side with those who break my orders. 245 LEADER: Never. Only a fool could be in love with death. CREON: Death is the price—you're right. But all too often the mere hope of money has ruined many men. A SENTRY enters from the side. SENTRY: My lord, I can't say I'm winded from running, or set out with any spring in my legs either—no sir, 250 I was lost in thought, and it made me stop, often, dead in my tracks, wheeling, turning back, 9 and all the time a voice inside me muttering, "Idiot, why? You're going straight to your death." Then muttering, "Stopped again, poor fool? 255 If somebody gets the news to Creon first, what's to save your neck?" And so, mulling it over, on I trudged, dragging my feet, you can make a short road take forever ... but at last, look, common sense won out, 260 I'm here, and I'm all yours, and even though I come empty-handed I'll tell my story just the same, because I've come with a good grip on one hope, what will come will come, whatever fate—- 265 CREON: Come to the point! What's wrong—why so afraid? SENTRY: First, myself, I've got to tell you, I didn't do it, didn't see who did— Be fair, don't take it out on me. 270 CREON: You're playing it safe, soldier, barricading yourself from any trouble. It's obvious, you've something strange to tell. SENTRY: Dangerous too, and danger makes you delay for all you're worth. 275 CREON: Out with it—then dismiss! SENTRY: All right, here it comes. The body— someone's just buried it,12 then run off... sprinkled some dry dust on the flesh, given it proper rites. CREON: What? 280 What man alive would dare— SENTRY: 12 someone's just buried it: this is a token burial; it is defined in the lines that follow (289-92). The sprinkling of dust and the pouring of a libation were considered the equivalent of burial where nothing more could be done and so were a direct defiance of Creon's order. 10