[Instructor's note: The following choral speech is sometimes called “The Ode to Man,” an explicit testimony of “the greatness of tragedy”; compare Hamlet 2.2: "What a piece of work is a man!"]

CHORUS: There are many strange and wonderful things,
but nothing more strangely wonderful than man.
He moves across the white-capped ocean seas      [recurrence to ship figure]   390
blasted by winter storms, carving his way                [+ storm figure]
under the surging waves engulfing him.

With his teams of horses he wears down
the unwearied and immortal earth,
the oldest of the gods, harassing her,
as year by year his plows move back and forth.

He snares the light-winged flocks of birds,                                   [bird figure]
herds of wild beasts, creatures from deep seas,
trapped in the fine mesh of his hunting nets.

O resourceful man, whose skill can overcome                                                400
ferocious beasts roaming mountain heights.
He curbs the rough-haired horses with his bit
and tames the inexhaustible mountain bulls,
setting their savage necks beneath his yoke.

He’s taught himself speech and wind-swift thought,
trained his feelings for communal civic life,                           [Athens as democratic republic]
learning to escape the icy shafts of frost,
volleys of pelting rain in winter storms,                                  [storm figure]
the harsh life lived under the open sky.

That’s man—so resourceful in all he does.                                                       410
There’s no event his skill cannot confront—
other than death—that alone he cannot shun,
although for many baffling sicknesses
he has discovered his own remedies.       [Classical Greece as source of modern scientific medicine; e.g. Hippocrates (460-370BCE) > "Hippocratic Oath"]

The qualities of his inventive skills
bring arts beyond his dreams and lead him on,
sometimes to evil and sometimes to good.

If he treats his country’s laws with due respect
and honors justice by swearing on the gods,
he wins high honors in his city.                                                                         420
But when he grows bold and turns to evil,
then he has no city. A man like that—           [“Man” remains communal, not merely individual]
let him not share my home or know my mind.

[Enter the Guard, bringing Antigone with him. She is not resisting]

[“not resisting” = “passive resistance” often accompanying “higher law” civil disobedience]

GUARD: This here’s the one who carried out the act.
We caught her as she was burying the corpse.
Where’s Creon?

[The palace doors open. Enter Creon with attendants]

CHORUS LEADER: He’s coming from the house—
and just in time.

CREON: Why have I come "just in time"?
What’s happening? What is it?

GUARD: My lord,
human beings should never take an oath
there’s something they’ll not do—for later thoughts
contradict what they first meant. I’d have sworn
I’d not soon venture here again. Back then,                                                     440
the threats you made brought me a lot of grief.
But there’s no joy as great as what we pray for
against all hope. And so I have come back,
breaking that oath I swore.  
                                            I bring this girl,
captured while she was honoring the grave.
This time we did not draw lots. No. This time
I was the lucky man, not someone else.
And now, my lord, take her for questioning.
Convict her. Do as you wish. As for me,
by rights I’m free and clear of all this trouble.      [comic potential of "just doing my job" attitude]       450

CREON: This girl here—how did you catch her? And where?

GUARD: She was burying that man. Now you know   [“that man” = Polynices, Antigone’s brother]
all there is to know.

CREON:  Do you understand
just what you’re saying? Are your words the truth?

GUARD: We saw this girl giving that dead man’s corpse
full burial rites—an act you’d made illegal.
Is what I say simple and clear enough?

CREON: How did you see her, catch her in the act?

GUARD: It happened this way. When we got there,
after hearing those awful threats from you,                                                     460
we swept off all the dust covering the corpse,
so the damp body was completely bare.
Then we sat down on rising ground up wind,
to escape the body’s putrid rotting stench.           [lower-type comic characters associated w/ animal responses]

We traded insults just to stay awake,
in case someone was careless on the job.
That’s how we spent the time right up ’til noon,
when the sun’s bright circle in the sky
had moved half way and it was burning hot.

Then suddenly a swirling windstorm came,              [storm figure]                           470
whipping clouds of dust up from the ground,
filling the plain—some heaven-sent trouble.
In that level place the dirt storm damaged
all the forest growth, and the air around
was filled with dust for miles. We shut our mouths
and just endured this scourge sent from the gods.
A long time passed. The storm came to an end.

CREON:  You there—you with your face
bent towards the ground, what do you say?
Do you deny you did this or admit it?

ANTIGONE: I admit I did it. I won’t deny that.                                                 500

CREON [to the Guard]: You’re dismissed—go where you want. You’re free—
no serious charges made against you.

[Exit the Guard. Creon turns to interrogate Antigone]

ANTIGONE: Yes. Zeus did not announce those laws to me.             [“higher law” concept]
And Justice living with the gods below
sent no such laws for men. I did not think                                                                  510
anything which you proclaimed strong enough
to let a mortal override the gods
and their unwritten and unchanging laws.
They’re not just for today or yesterday,
but exist forever, and no one knows
where they first appeared.              [Antigone’s speech elaborates “higher law” vs. “laws of man”]
                                           So I did not mean
to let a fear of any human will
lead to my punishment among the gods.
I know all too well I’m going to die— 
how could I not?—it makes no difference                                                                    520
what you decree. And if I have to die
before my time, well, I count that a gain.         [Antigone hints at inclination to suicide?]
When someone has to live the way I do,
surrounded by so many evil things,
how can she fail to find a benefit
in death? And so for me meeting this fate
won’t bring any pain.
                                  But if I’d allowed
my own mother’s dead son to just lie there,
an unburied corpse, then I’d feel distress.
What going on here does not hurt me at all.  [“higher law” as acceptance of worldly suffering] 530
If you think what I’m doing now is stupid,
perhaps I’m being charged with foolishness  
by someone who’s a fool.                      [sarcasm / irony]

CHORUS LEADER:  It’s clear enough
the spirit in this girl is passionate—
her father was the same. She has no sense
of compromise in times of trouble.

CREON [to the Chorus Leader]: But you should know the most obdurate wills
are those most prone to break. The strongest iron     [dramatic irony? Is Creon foreshadowing his own fate?]
tempered in the fire to make it really hard—
that’s the kind you see most often shatter.                                                                540
I’m well aware the most tempestuous horses
are tamed by one small bit. Pride has no place
in anyone who is his neighbor’s slave.

This girl here was already very insolent
in contravening laws we had proclaimed.
Here she again displays her proud contempt—
having done the act, she now boasts of it.          [civil disobedience requires publicity for act]
She laughs at what she’s done. Well, in this case,
if she gets her way and goes unpunished,
then she’s the man here, not me.
                                                             No. She may be                                           550
my sister’s child, closer to me by blood
than anyone belonging to my house          [Creon values public state over private family]
who worships Zeus Herkeios in my home,       [“Zeus of the Courtyard,” a domestic patron god]
but she’ll not escape my harshest punishment—
her sister, too, whom I accuse as well.
She had an equal part in all their plans
to do this burial. Go summon her here.
I saw her just now inside the palace,
her mind out of control, some kind of fit.

[Exit attendants into the palace to fetch Ismene]

When people hatch their mischief in the dark             [darkness & light]            560
their minds often convict them in advance,
betraying their treachery. How I despise
a person caught committing evil acts
who then desires to glorify the crime.

ANTIGONE: Take me and kill me—what more do you want?

CREON: Me? Nothing. With that I have everything.

ANTIGONE: Then why delay? There’s nothing in your words
that I enjoy—may that always be the case!
And what I say displeases you as much.
But where could I gain greater glory                                                                  570
than setting my own brother in his grave?
All those here would confirm this pleases them
if their lips weren’t sealed by fear—being king,
which offers all sorts of various benefits,
means you can talk and act just as you wish.

CREON: In all of Thebes, you’re the only one
who looks at things that way.

ANTIGONE: They share my views,                 [they = citizens]
but they keep their mouths shut just for you.

CREON: These views of yours—so different from the rest—
don’t they bring you any sense of shame?                                                                  580

ANTIGONE: No—there’s nothing shameful in honoring
my mother’s children.

CREON:  You had a brother
killed fighting for the other side.

ANTIGONE: Yes—from the same mother and father, too.

CREON: Why then give tributes which insult his name?

ANTIGONE: But his dead corpse won’t back up what you say.

CREON: Yes, he will, if you give equal honors
to a wicked man.

ANTIGONE: But the one who died
was not some slave—it was his own brother.

CREON: Who was destroying this country—the other one                                          590
went to his death defending it.

ANTIGONE: That may be,
but Hades still desires equal rites for both.       [Hades = god of the underworld, lord of the dead]

CREON: A good man does not wish what we give him
to be the same an evil man receives.

ANTIGONE: Who knows? In the world below perhaps
such actions are no crime.

CREON:  An enemy
can never be a friend, not even in death.

ANTIGONE: But my nature is to love. I cannot hate.

CREON: Then go down to the dead. If you must love,
love them. No woman’s going to govern me—     [masculinity crisis?]               600
no, no—not while I’m still alive.

[Enter two attendants from the house bringing Ismene to Creon]

CHORUS LEADER: Ismene’s coming. There—right by the door.
She’s crying. How she must love her sister!
From her forehead a cloud casts its shadow
down across her darkly flushing face—
and drops its rain onto her lovely cheeks.

CREON: You there—you snake lurking in my house,
sucking out my life’s blood so secretly.
I’d no idea I was nurturing two pests,   [Creon again perceives conspiracies or plots against himself]
who aimed to rise against my throne. Come here.                                                   610
Tell me this—do you admit you played your part
in this burial, or will you swear an oath
you had no knowledge of it?

ISMENE: I did it—
I admit it, and she’ll back me up.
So I bear the guilt as well.

ANTIGONE: No, no—
justice will not allow you to say that.
You didn’t want to. I didn’t work with you.

ISMENE: But now you’re in trouble, I’m not ashamed 
of suffering, too, as your companion.

ANTIGONE: Hades and the dead can say who did it—                                            620
I don’t love a friend whose love is only words.

ISMENE: You’re my sister. Don’t dishonor me.
Let me respect the dead and die with you.

ANTIGONE: Don’t try to share my death or make a claim
to actions which you did not do. I’ll die—
and that will be enough.

ISMENE:  But if you’re gone,
what is there in life for me to love?

ANTIGONE: Ask Creon. He’s the one you care about.

ISMENE: Why hurt me like this? It doesn’t help you.

[Instructor's note: As testament to the complexity of tragedy, in the dialogue above, Antigone threatens to violate the very laws of kinship that she had previously proclaimed.]

ANTIGONE: If I am mocking you, it pains me, too.                                                   630

ISMENE: Even now is there some way I can help?

ANTIGONE: Save yourself. I won’t envy your escape.

ISMENE: I feel so wretched leaving you to die.

ANTIGONE: But you chose life—it was my choice to die.

ISMENE: But not before I’d said those words just now.

ANTIGONE: Some people may approve of how you think—
others will believe my judgment’s good.

ISMENE: But the mistake’s the same for both of us.

ANTIGONE: Be brave. You’re alive. But my spirit died
some time ago so I might help the dead                                                                     640

CREON: I’d say one of these girls has just revealed
how mad she is—the other’s been that way
since she was born.

ISMENE: My lord, whatever good sense
people have by birth no longer stays with them
once their lives go wrong—it abandons them.

CREON: In your case, that’s true, once you made your choice
to act in evil ways with wicked people.

ISMENE: How could I live alone, without her here?

CREON: Don’t speak of her being here. Her life is over.

ISMENE: You’re going to kill your own son’s bride? [Creon’s son Haemon engaged to Antigone]     650

CREON: Why not? There are other fields for him to plow.  [crudely sexist metaphor implies Creon’s masculinity crisis.]

ISMENE: No one will make him a more loving wife
than she will.

CREON:  I have no desire my son
should have an evil wife.

ANTIGONE: Dearest Haemon,    [Haemon, Antigone’s fiancé, is not present in the scene]
how your father wrongs you.

CREON:  I’ve had enough of this—
you and your marriage.

ISMENE: You really want that?
You’re going to take her from him?

CREON: No, not me.
Hades is the one who’ll stop the marriage.

CHORUS LEADER: So she must die—that seems decided on.

CREON: Yes—for you and me the matter’s closed.                                                  660

[Creon turns to address his attendants]

No more delay. You slaves, take them inside.
From this point on they must act like women [Creon’s masculinity < women in traditional privacy]
and have no liberty to wander off.
Even bold men run when they see Hades
coming close to them to snatch their lives.

[The attendants take Antigone and Ismene into the palace, leaving Creon and the Chorus on stage]

CHORUS: Those who live without tasting evil
have happy lives—for when the gods
shake a house to its foundations,   [“house” also means family, as in “House of Labdakos”↓]
then inevitable disasters strike,
falling upon whole families,                                                                                       670
just as a surging ocean swell
running before cruel Thracian winds
across the dark trench of the sea
churns up the deep black sand 
and crashes headlong on the cliffs,
which scream in pain against the wind.

I see this house’s age-old sorrows,
the house of Labdakos’s children, [Labdakos (Labdacus) = father of Laius, g'father to Oedipus, g-g-randfather of Antigone and Ismene]
sorrows falling on the sorrows of the dead,
one generation bringing no relief                                                                               680
to generations after it—some god
strikes at them—on and on without an end.
For now the light which has been shining
over the last roots of Oedipus’ house
is being cut down with a bloody knife
belonging to the gods below—
for foolish talk and frenzy in the soul.

Oh Zeus, what human trespasses          [contrast with “Ode to Man” ↑]
can check your power? Even Sleep,
who casts his nets on everything,                                                                             690
cannot master that—nor can the months,
the tireless months the gods control.
A sovereign who cannot grow old,
you hold Olympus as your own,    [mountain in N. Greece,  traditional home of major Gk gods]
in all its glittering magnificence. 
From now on into all future time,
as in the past, your law holds firm.               [the Chorus now refers to higher law]
It never enters lives of human beings
in its full force without disaster.

Hope ranging far and wide brings comfort                                                                  700
to many men—but then hope can deceive,
delusions born of volatile desire.
It comes upon the man who’s ignorant
until his foot is seared in burning fire.
Someone’s wisdom has revealed to us 
this famous saying—sometimes the gods
lure a man’s mind forward to disaster,
and he thinks evil’s something good.
But then he lives only the briefest time
free of catastrophe.

[The palace doors open]

CHORUS LEADER: Here comes Haemon,                                                               710
your only living son. Is he grieving                         [your = Creon’s]
the fate of Antigone, his bride,
bitter that his marriage hopes are gone?

CREON: We’ll soon find out—more accurately
than any prophet here could indicate.  [“any prophet” foreshadows later appearance of TIRESIAS] 

[Enter Haemon from the palace]

My son, have you heard the sentence that’s been passed
upon your bride? And have you now come here
angry at your father? Or are you loyal to me,
on my side no matter what I do?

HAEMON: Father, I’m yours. For me your judgments                                                720
and the ways you act on them are good—
I shall follow them. I’ll not consider            [Diplomatically, Haemon agrees before differing]
any marriage a greater benefit
than your fine leadership.

CREON:  Indeed, my son,
that’s how your heart should always be resolved,
to stand behind your father’s judgment
on every issue. That’s what men pray for—
obedient children growing up at home
who will pay back their father’s enemies,
evil to them for evil done to him,                                                                                 730
while honoring his friends as much as he does.
A man who fathers useless children—
what can one say of him except he’s bred
troubles for himself, and much to laugh at
for those who fight against him?
                                                    So, my son,
don’t ever throw good sense aside for pleasure,
for some woman’s sake. You understand
how such embraces can turn freezing cold
when an evil woman shares your life at home.
What greater wound is there than a false friend?                                                       740
So spit this girl out—she’s your enemy.
Let her marry someone else in Hades.

Since I caught her clearly disobeying,
the only culprit in the entire city,
I won’t perjure myself before the state.            [public v. private, state v. family or personal]    
No—I’ll kill her. And so let her appeal
to Zeus, the god of blood relationships.       [each Greek god has multiple attributes]
If I foster any lack of full respect
in my own family, I surely do the same
with those who are not linked to me by blood.                                                             750 
The man who acts well with his household
will be found a just man in the city.
I’d trust such a man to govern wisely
or to be content with someone ruling him.
And in the thick of battle at his post 
he’ll stand firm beside his fellow soldier,
a loyal, brave man. But anyone who’s proud
and violates our laws or thinks he’ll tell
our leaders what to do, a man like that
wins no praise from me.                 [Creon uses similar terms as Antigone for different conclusions]
                                          No. We must obey                                                                 760
whatever man the city puts in charge,
no matter what the issue—great or small,
just or unjust. For there’s no greater evil
than a lack of leadership. That destroys
whole cities, turns households into ruins,
and in war makes soldiers break and run away.
When men succeed, what keeps their lives secure
in almost every case is their obedience.
That’s why they must support those in control,
and never let some woman beat us down.                                                                   770
If we must fall from power, let that come
at some man’s hand—at least, we won’t be called
inferior to any woman.                              [Creon’s masculinity exists in opposition to femininity]

CHORUS LEADER: Unless we’re being deceived by our old age,
what you’ve just said seems reasonable to us.

HAEMON: Father, the gods instill good sense in men—
the greatest of all the things which we possess.
I could not find your words somehow not right—  [again note Haemon’s reasonable diplomacy]
I hope that’s something I never learn to do.

But other words might be good, as well.                                                                  780
Because of who you are, you can't perceive
all the things men say or do—or their complaints.
Your gaze makes citizens afraid—they can’t
say anything you would not like to hear.               [leadership's relation to citizens]

But in the darkness I can hear them talk—                  [darkness & perception figures]
the city is upset about the girl.
They say of all women here she least deserves
the worst of deaths for her most glorious act.
When in the slaughter her own brother died,
she did not just leave him there unburied,                                                                790
to be ripped apart by carrion dogs or birds.
Surely she deserves some golden honor?
That’s the dark secret rumor people speak.                   [darkness figure]

For me, father, nothing is more valuable
than your well being. For any children,
what could be a greater honor to them
than their father’s thriving reputation?
A father feels the same about his sons.

So don’t let your mind dwell on just one thought,          [a democratic argument]
that what you say is right and nothing else.                                                              800
A man who thinks that only he is wise,
that he can speak and think like no one else,
when such men are exposed, then all can see
their emptiness inside.
                                     For any man, 
even if he’s wise, there’s nothing shameful
in learning many things, staying flexible.                         [learning theme]
You notice how in winter floods the trees
which bend before the storm preserve their twigs.              [storm figure]
The ones who stand against it are destroyed,
root and branch. In the same way, those sailors                                                       810
who keep their sails stretched tight, never easing off,
make their ship capsize—and from that point on                 [ship of state metaphor]
sail with their rowing benches all submerged.

So end your anger. Permit yourself to change.
For if I, as a younger man, may state
my views, I’d say it would be for the best 
if men by nature understood all things—
if not, and that is usually the case,
when men speak well, it's good to learn from them.

CHORUS LEADER: My lord, if what he’s said is relevant,                                          820
it seems appropriate to learn from him,
and you too, Haemon, listen to the king.
The things which you both said were excellent.

CREON: And men my age—are we then going to school
to learn what’s wise from men as young as him?

HAEMON: There’s nothing wrong in that. And if I’m young,
don’t think about my age—look at what I do.

CREON: And what you do—does that include this,
honoring those who act against our laws?

HAEMON: I would not encourage anyone                                                                 830
to show respect to evil men.

CREON:  And her—
is she not suffering from the same disease?

HAEMON: The people here in Thebes all say the same—
they deny she is.

CREON:  So the city now
will instruct me how I am to govern?

HAEMON: Now you’re talking like someone immature.                       [irony]
Don’t you see that?

CREON:  Am I to rule this land
at someone else’s whim or by myself?

HAEMON: A city which belongs to just one man
is no true city.                                                   [modernity: city life & democracy = sharing space & right]

CREON:  According to our laws,                                                                                840
does not the ruler own the city?

HAEMON: By yourself you’d make an excellent king
but in a desert.

CREON:  It seems as if this boy
is fighting on the woman’s side.             [argument shifts from decision-making to gender]

HAEMON:  That’s true—
if you’re the woman. I’m concerned for you.

CREON: You’re the worst there is—you set your judgment up
against your father.

HAEMON:  No, not when I see
you making a mistake and being unjust.

CREON: Is it a mistake to honor my own rule?

HAEMON: You’re not honoring that by trampling on                                                850
the gods’ prerogatives.                    [reference to higher law]

CREON:  You foul creature—
you’re worse than any woman.       [state law vs. higher law shifts to man vs. woman]

HAEMON:  You’ll not catch me
giving way to some disgrace.

CREON:  But your words
all speak on her behalf.

HAEMON:  And yours and mine—
and for the gods below.

CREON:  You woman’s slave—
don’t try to win me over.

HAEMON:  What do you want—
to speak and never hear someone reply?                                [defense of dialogue, democracy]

CREON: You’ll never marry her while she’s alive.

HAEMON: Then she’ll die—and in her death kill someone else.

CREON: Are you so insolent you threaten me?                                                          860

HAEMON: Where’s the threat in challenging a bad decree?

CREON: You’ll regret parading what you think like this—
you—a person with an empty brain!

HAEMON: If you were not my father, I might say
you were not thinking straight.

CREON:  Would you, indeed?
Well, then, by Olympus, I’ll have you know
you’ll be sorry for demeaning me
with all these insults.

[Creon turns to his attendants]

Go bring her out—
that hateful creature, so she can die right here,
with him present, before her bridegroom’s eyes.                                                        870

HAEMON: No. Don’t ever hope for that. She’ll not die
with me just standing there. And as for you—
your eyes will never see my face again.
So let your rage charge on among your friends
who want to stand by you in this.

[Exit Haemon, running back into the palace]

CHORUS LEADER: My lord, Haemon left in such a hurry.
He’s angry—in a young man at his age
the mind turns bitter when he’s feeling hurt.

CREON: Let him dream up or carry out great deeds
beyond the power of man, he’ll not save these girls—                                              880
their fate is sealed.

CHORUS LEADER: Are you going to kill them both?

CREON: No—not the one whose hands are clean. You’re right.    [Creon here shows some ability to listen, change]

CHORUS LEADER: How do you plan to kill Antigone?

CREON: I’ll take her on a path no people use,
and hide her in a cavern in the rocks,
while still alive. I’ll set out provisions,
as much as piety requires, to make sure
the city is not totally corrupted.
[translator’s note: killing a family member could lead to divine punishment in the form of a pollution involving the entire city, as in the case of Oedipus. Creon may be taking refuge in the notion that he will not be executing Antigone directly.] 
Then she can speak her prayers to Hades,
the only god she worships, for success                                                                      890
avoiding death—or else, at least, she’ll learn,
although too late, how it’s a waste of time
to work to honor those whom Hades holds.

CHORUS: O Eros, conqueror in every fight,                   [Eros = god of erotic passion]
Eros, who squanders all men’s wealth,
who sleeps at night on girls’ soft cheeks,
and roams across the ocean seas
and through the shepherd’s hut—
no immortal god escapes from you,
nor any man, who lives but for a day.                                                                   900
And the one whom you possess goes mad.
Even in good men you twist their minds,
perverting them to their own ruin.
You provoke these men to family strife.
The bride’s desire seen glittering in her eyes—
that conquers everything, its power
enthroned beside eternal laws, for there
the goddess Aphrodite works her will,                    [Aphrodite = goddess of love]
whose ways are irresistible.

[Antigone enters from the palace with attendants who are taking her away to her execution]

CHORUS LEADER: When I look at her I forget my place.   ["my place": as a reserved elder?]             910
I lose restraint and can’t hold back my tears—
Antigone going to her bridal room
where all are laid to rest in death.             [irony]

ANTIGONE: Look at me, my native citizens,
as I go on my final journey,
as I gaze upon the sunlight one last time,
which I’ll never see again—for Hades,
who brings all people to their final sleep,
leads me on, while I’m still living, 
down to the shores of Acheron. [=river at border of underworld]                     920
I’ve not yet had my bridal chant,
nor has any wedding song been sung—
for my marriage is to Acheron.     [river of pain]

CHORUS: Surely you carry fame with you and praise,
as you move to the deep home of the dead.
You were not stricken by lethal disease
or paid your wages with a sword.
No. You were in charge of your own fate.
So of all living human beings, you alone
make your way down to Hades still alive.                                                                   930

[Instructor's note regarding speech below: Niobe, traditionally depicted weeping, was punished for pride in her many children, whom the gods killed. Her husband was Amphion, a founder of Thebes. Antigone, comparing her own suffering with Niobe’s, describes Niobe’s final journey to Mount Sipylus, where she was turned into “Niobe’s Rock,” which looks like a woman and appears to weep b/c rainwater seeps through the porous limestone.]

 

classical statue of Niobe weeping

Niobe's Rock in present-day Turkey

ANTIGONE: I’ve heard about a guest of ours,  
daughter of Tantalus, from Phrygia—                     [Niobe: see pictures and note immediately above
she went to an excruciating death
in Sipylus, right on the mountain peak.
The stone there, just like clinging ivy,
wore her down, and now, so people say,
the snow and rain never leave her there, 
as she laments. Below her weeping eyes
her neck is wet with tears. God brings me
to a final rest which most resembles hers.                                                       940

CHORUS: But Niobe was a goddess, born divine—
and we are human beings, a race which dies.
But still, it’s a fine thing for a woman,
once she’s dead, to have it said she shared,
in life and death, the fate of demi-gods.

ANTIGONE: Oh, you are mocking me! Why me—
by our fathers’ gods—why do you all,
my own city and the richest men of Thebes,
insult me now right to my face,
without waiting for my death?                                                                                   950
Well at least I have Dirce’s springs,                [Dirce = river at Thebes]
the holy grounds of Thebes,
a city full of splendid chariots,
to witness how no friends lament for me
as I move on—you see the laws
which lead me to my rock-bound prison,
a tomb made just for me. Alas!
In my wretchedness I have no home, 
not with human beings or corpses,
not with the living or the dead.                                                                             960

CHORUS: You pushed your daring to the limit, my child,
and tripped against Justice’s high altar—
perhaps your agonies are paying back
some compensation for your father. 

[translator’s note: The Chorus suggests that present afflictions may arise from a family curse originating in previous generations.]

ANTIGONE: Now there you touch on my most painful thought—
my father’s destiny—always on my mind,
along with that whole fate which sticks to us,
the splendid house of Labdakos—the curse
arising from a mother’s marriage bed,
when she had sex with her own son, my father.                                            970
From what kind of parents was I born,
their wretched daughter? I go to them,
unmarried and accursed, an outcast.
Alas, too, for my brother Polynices,
who made a fatal marriage and then died—  
and with that death killed me while still alive.

[translator’s note: Polynices married the daughter of Adrastus, king of Argos, an action which enabled him to acquire the army to attack Thebes]

CHORUS: To be piously devout shows reverence,
but powerful men, who in their persons
incorporate authority, cannot bear
anyone to break their rules. Hence, you die                                                             980
because of your own selfish will.

ANTIGONE: Without lament, without a friend,
and with no marriage song, I’m being led
in this miserable state, along my final road.
So wretched that I no longer have the right 
to look upon the sun, that sacred eye.
But my fate prompts no tears, and no friend mourns.

CREON: Don’t you know that no one faced with death
would ever stop the singing and the groans,
if that would help? Take her and shut her up,                                                          990
as I have ordered, in her tomb’s embrace.
And get it done as quickly as you can.
Then leave her there alone, all by herself—
she can sort out whether she wants suicide
or remains alive, buried in a place like that.
As far as she’s concerned, we bear no guilt.
But she’s lost her place living here with us.

[translator’s note: Creon’s logic suggests that because he is not executing Antigone directly and is leaving her a choice between committing suicide and slowly starving to death in the cave, he has no moral responsibility for what happens.]

ANTIGONE: Oh my tomb and bridal chamber—
my eternal hollow dwelling place,
where I go to join my people. Most of them          [them = her family, "my people"]   1000
have perished—Persephone has welcomed them    [Persephone=queen of underworld]
among the dead. I’m the last one, dying here
the most evil death by far, as I move down
before the time allotted for my life is done.

But I go nourishing the vital hope
my father will be pleased to see me come,
and you, too, my mother, will welcome me,
as well as you, my own dear brother.
When you died, with my own hands I washed you.
I arranged your corpse and at the grave mound                                                      1010
poured out libations.
                                  But now, Polynices,
this is my reward for covering your corpse.
However, for wise people I was right
to honor you. I’d never have done it
for children of my own, not as their mother,
nor for a dead husband lying in decay—
no, not in defiance of the citizens.
What law do I appeal to, claiming this?
If my husband died, there’d be another one,
and if I were to lose a child of mine                                                                          1020
I’d have another with some other man.

But since my father and my mother, too,
are hidden away in Hades’ house,
I’ll never have another living brother.
That was the law I used to honor you.
But Creon thought that I was in the wrong
and acting recklessly for you, my brother.

Now he seizes me by force and leads me here—
no wedding and no bridal song, no share
in married life or raising children.                                                                              1030
Instead I go in sorrow to my grave,
without my friends, to die while still alive.
 
What holy justice have I violated?
In my wretchedness, why should I still look
up to the gods? Which one can I invoke
to bring me help, when for my reverence
they charge me with impiety?
                                                Well, then,
if this is something fine among the gods,
I’ll come to recognize that I’ve done wrong.
But if these people here are being unjust                                                                 1040
may they endure no greater punishment
than the injustices they’re doing to me.             [civil disobedience does not seek revenge]

CHORUS LEADER: The same storm blasts continue to attack       [storm figure]
the mind in this young girl.

CREON:  Then those escorting her
will be sorry they’re so slow.

ANTIGONE: Alas, then,
those words mean death is very near at hand.

CREON: I won’t encourage you or cheer you up,
by saying the sentence won’t be carried out.

CHORUS: In her brass-bound room fair Danae* as well         [ *see note below↓ ]
endured her separation from the heavens’ light,                                                     1060
a prisoner hidden in a chamber like a tomb,
although she, too, came from a noble line.
And she, my child, had in her care
the liquid streaming golden seed of Zeus. 
But the power of fate is full of mystery.
There’s no evading it, no, not with wealth,
or war, or walls, or black sea-beaten ships.

[Translator’s note on Danae: daughter of Acrisus, King of Argos. Because of a prophecy that he would be killed by a son born to Danae, Acrisus imprisoned her. But Zeus made love to her in the form of a golden shower, and she gave birth to Perseus, who, once grown, killed Acrisus accidentally.]

And the hot-tempered child of Dryas,
king of the Edonians, was put in prison,
closed up in the rocks by Dionysus,                                                                         1070
for his angry mocking of the god.

[translator’s note: reference to Lycurgus son of Dryas, a Thracian king. He attacked the god Dionysus and was punished with blinding or with being torn apart.]

There the dreadful flower of his rage 
slowly withered, and he came to know
the god who in his frenzy he had mocked
with his own tongue. For he had tried
to hold in check women in that frenzy
inspired by the god, the Bacchanalian fire.
More than that—he’d made the Muses angry,
challenging the gods who love the flute.

[Translator’s note: the Muses’ anger at a Thracian who boasted of his flute playing normally refers not to Lycurgus’s story but to another Thracian, Thamyras.]

Beside the black rocks where the twin seas meet,                                                    1080
by Thracian Salmydessos at the Bosphorus,

[Translator’s note: the rocky strait of the Bosphorus between the Black Sea and the Propontis was a famous shipping hazard.]
close to the place where Ares dwells, 
the war god witnessed the unholy wounds
which blinded the two sons of Phineus,
inflicted by his savage wife—the sightless holes
cried out for someone to avenge those blows
made with her sharpened comb in blood-stained hands.

[Translator’s note: blood-stained hands: this verse and the next refer to the Thracian king Phineas, whose second wife blinded her two stepsons (from Phineas’ first wife Cleopatra) by stabbing out their eyes.]

In their misery they wept, lamenting
their wretched suffering, sons of a mother
whose marriage had gone wrong. And yet,                                                               1090
she was an offspring of an ancient family,
the race of Erechtheus, raised far away,
in caves surrounded by her father’s winds,
Boreas’s child, a girl who raced with horses
across steep hills—child of the gods.
But she, too, my child, suffered much
from the immortal Fates.

[Translator’s note: immortal Fates: Cleopatra was the grand-daughter of Erechtheus, king of Athens. Boreas, father of Erechtheus, was god of the North Wind.]

TIRESIAS: Lords of Thebes, we two have walked a common path,
one person’s vision serving both of us.
The blind require a guide to find their way.                                                             1100

CREON: What news do you have, old Tiresias?

TIRESIAS: I’ll tell you—if you’ll obey the prophet.

CREON: I’ve not rejected your advice before.

TIRESIAS: That’s the reason why you’ve steered the city
on its proper course.                                                                 [ship of state metaphor]

CREON:  From my experience
I can confirm the help you give.

TIRESIAS:  Then know this—
your luck is once more on fate’s razor edge.

CREON: What? What you’ve just said makes me nervous.

                                        Consider this, my son.
All men make mistakes—that’s not uncommon.
But when they do, they’re no longer foolish                                                1140
or subject to bad luck if they try to fix
the evil into which they’ve fallen,
once they give up their intransigence.
Men who put their stubbornness on show
invite accusations of stupidity.
Make concessions to the dead—don’t ever stab
a man who’s just been killed. What’s the glory
in killing a dead person one more time?
I’ve been concerned for you. It’s good advice.
Learning can be pleasant when a man speaks well,                                             1150
especially when he seeks your benefit.

CREON: Old man, you’re all like archers shooting at me—
I’ve now become your target for all of you—
even prophets are now aiming at me.              [tragic flaw of being unreceptive to learning and change]
I’ve long been bought and sold as merchandise
among that tribe.
                              Well, go make your profits.      [Creon again perceives bribery in opposition]
If it’s what you want, then trade with Sardis         [Sardis = important trading city]
for their golden-silver alloy—or for gold
from India, but you’ll never hide that corpse
in any grave. Even if Zeus’s eagles                                                                         1160
should choose to seize his festering body
and take it up, right to the throne of Zeus,
not even then would I, in trembling fear
of some defilement, permit that corpse
a burial. For I know well that no man
has the power to pollute the gods.

But, old Tiresias, among human beings
the wisest suffer a disgraceful fall
when, to promote themselves, they use fine words
to spread around abusive insults.                                                                              1170

TIRESIAS: Alas, does any man know or think about . . .

CREON [interrupting]: Think what? What sort of pithy common thought
are you about to utter?

TIRESIAS [ignoring the interruption]: . . . how good advice
is valuable—worth more than all possessions. 

CREON: I think that’s true, as much as foolishness
is what harms us most.

TIRESIAS:  Yet that’s the sickness
now infecting you.

CREON:  I have no desire
to denigrate a prophet when I speak.

TIRESIAS: But that’s what you are doing, when you claim
my oracles are false.

CREON:  The tribe of prophets—                                                                             1180
all of them—are fond of money.                  [Creon again suspects money instead of conscience]

TIRESIAS:  And kings?
Their tribe loves to benefit dishonestly.

CREON: You know you’re speaking of the man who rules you.

TIRESIAS: I know—thanks to me you saved the city
and now are in control.
[translator’s note: a second reference that at some earlier time TIRESIAS has given political help to Creon—unclear what this refers to.]

CREON:  You’re a wise prophet,
but you love doing wrong.

TIRESIAS:  You’ll force me
to speak of secrets locked inside my heart.

CREON: Do it—just don’t speak to benefit yourself.

TIRESIAS: I don’t think I’ll be doing that—
not as far as you’re concerned.

CREON:  You can be sure                                                                                 1190
you won’t change my mind to make yourself more rich.   [tragic flaw of inflexibility, resistance to learning]

TIRESIAS: Then understand this well—you will not see
the sun race through its cycle many times
before you lose a child of your own loins,
a corpse in payment for these corpses.
You’ve thrown down to those below someone
from up above—in your arrogance
you’ve moved a living soul into a grave,
leaving here a body owned by gods below—
unburied, dispossessed, unsanctified.                                                                1200

That’s no concern of yours or gods above.
In this you violate the ones below.
And so destroying avengers wait for you,
Furies of Hades and the gods, who’ll see    [Furies = Erinyes, Greek goddesses of vengeance]
you caught up in this very wickedness.
Now see if I speak as someone who’s been bribed.
It won’t be long before in your own house
the men and women all cry out in sorrow,
and cities rise in hate against you—all those
whose mangled soldiers have had burial rites                                                          1210
from dogs, wild animals, or flying birds
who carry the unholy stench back home,
to every city hearth.
[translator’s note: Tiresias accuses Creon of refusing burial to the dead soldiers Polynices brought with him from other cities. The play does not mention this otherwise, but the detail is present in other versions of the story.]

                                  Like an archer,
I shoot these arrows now into your heart
because you have provoked me. I’m angry—
so my aim is good. You’ll not escape their pain.
Boy, lead us home so he can vent his rage
on younger men and keep a quieter tongue
and a more temperate mind than he has now.

[Exit TIRESIAS, led by the young boy]

CHORUS LEADER: My lord, my lord, such dreadful prophecies—                        1220
and now he’s gone. Since my hair changed color
from black to white, I know here in the city
he’s never uttered a false prophecy.                                                                    1224

CREON: I know that, too—and it disturbs my mind.
It’s dreadful to give way, but to resist
and let destruction hammer down my spirit—
that’s a fearful option, too.

CHORUS LEADER: Son of Menoikeos,
you need to listen to some good advice.

CREON: Tell me what to do. Speak up. I’ll do it.                    [reversal: see Aristotle, Poetics 11a]

CHORUS LEADER: Go and release the girl from her rock tomb.                           1230
Then prepare a grave for that unburied corpse.

CREON: This is your advice? You think I should concede?

CHORUS LEADER: Yes, my lord, as fast as possible.
Swift-footed injuries sent from the gods
hack down those who act imprudently.

CREON: Alas—it’s difficult. But I’ll give up.
I’ll not do what I’d set my heart upon.
It’s not right to fight against necessity.

CHORUS LEADER: Go now and get this done. Don’t give the work
to other men to do.

CREON:  I’ll go just as I am.                                                                                  1240
Come, you servants, each and every one of you.
Come on. Bring axes with you. Go there quickly—
up to the higher ground. I’ve changed my mind.   
Since I’m the one who tied her up, I’ll go
and set her free myself. Now I’m afraid.
Until one dies the best thing well may be
to follow our established laws.

[Creon and his attendants hurry off stage]

[from translator’s note: In the passage below the Chorus celebrates Dionysus or Bacchus, a god born in Thebes to Semele, daughter of King Cadmus. The bacchants are those who worship Dionysus.

• Eleusis, region on the coast near Athens, was famous for its Eleusinian Mysteries (secret initiation rituals).
• Eleusianian Deo refers to the goddess Demeter (Roman Ceres), who was worshipped at Eleusis.
• The Theban race sprang up from dragon’s teeth sown in a field by Cadmus, founder of the city.]

CHORUS: Oh you with many names,  [you = Dionysus or Bacchus, god of wine, ecstasy, & the theater]
you glory of that Theban bride,             [Semele, daughter of King Cadmus of Thebes]
and child of thundering Zeus,                                                                                   1250
you who cherish famous Italy,
and rule the welcoming valley lands
of Eleusianian Deo—       [Demeter = goddess of fertile fields]
O Bacchus—you who dwell            [Bacchus = Dionysus]
in the bacchants’ mother city Thebes,   [Bacchants = maenads & satyrs, devotees of Dionysus]
beside Ismenus’s flowing streams,           [Ismenus = a river near Thebes]
on land sown with the teeth
of that fierce dragon.      [see translator's note above]

Above the double mountain peaks,
the torches flashing through the murky smoke                                                         1260
have seen you where Corcyian nymphs       [Corcyian < of the river Korkyros]
move on as they worship you
by the Kastalian stream.                               [Kastalian stream = sacred fountain near Delphi]
And from the ivy-covered slopes
of Nysa’s hills, from the green shore  [Nysa = mythic landscape where Dionysus was raised by nymphs]
so rich in vines, you come to us,
visiting our Theban ways,
while deathless voices all cry out
in honor of your name, "Evoe."          [a cry of celebration made by worshippers of Bacchus--compare "whoo-hoo."]

You honor Thebes, our city,                                                                                   1270
above all others, you and your mother
blasted by that lightning strike.
[translator’s note: Semele, Dionysus’s human mother, was destroyed by Zeus’s lightning bolt, because of the jealousy of Hera, Zeus’ wife.]

And now when all our people here  
are captive to a foul disease,          [cf. disease / pollution motif in Oedipus the King]
on your healing feet you come
across the moaning strait
or over the Parnassian hill.

You who lead the dance,
among the fire-breathing stars,
who guard the voices in the night,                                                                           1280
child born of Zeus, oh my lord, 
appear with your attendant Thyiads,              [worshippers of Dionysus]
who dance in frenzy all night long,
for you their patron, Iacchus.                          [Iacchus = yet another name for Dionysus.]

[Enter a Messenger]

MESSENGER: All you here who live beside the home
of Amphion and Cadmus—in human life  [Amphion: legendary Theban king, husband of Niobe]
there’s no set place which I would praise or blame.
The lucky and unlucky rise or fall
by chance day after day—and how these things
are fixed for men no one can prophesy.                                                                 1290
For Creon, in my view, was once a man
we all looked up to. For he saved the state,
this land of Cadmus, from its enemies.
He took control and reigned as its sole king—
and prospered with the birth of noble children.

Now all is gone. For when a man has lost
what gives him pleasure, I don’t include him
among the living—he’s a breathing corpse.
Pile up a massive fortune in your home,
if that’s what you want—live like a king.                                                                   1300
If there’s no pleasure in it, I’d not give
to any man a vapor’s shadow for it,
not compared to human joy.

CHORUS LEADER: Have you come with news of some fresh trouble
in our house of kings?

MESSENGER:  They’re dead—
and those alive bear the responsibility
for those who’ve died.

CHORUS LEADER:  Who did the killing?
Who’s lying dead? Tell us.

MESSENGER: Haemon has been killed.
No stranger shed his blood.

CHORUS LEADER:  At his father’s hand?
Or did he kill himself?

MESSENGER:  By his own hand—
angry at his father for the murder.            ["the murder": (of Antigone)]                   1310

CHORUS LEADER: TIRESIAS, how your words have proven true!

MESSENGER: That’s how things stand. Consider what comes next.

CHORUS LEADER: I see Creon’s wife, poor Eurydice— 
she’s coming from the house—either by chance,
or else she’s heard there’s news about her son.

[Enter Eurydice from the palace with some attendants]

EURYDICE: Citizens of Thebes, I heard you talking,
as I was walking out, going off to pray,
to ask for help from goddess Pallas.
While I was unfastening the gate,
I heard someone speaking of bad news                                                            1320
about my family. I was terrified.
I collapsed, fainting back into the arms                 [not acted or depicted; only reported in words; spectacle repressed]
of my attendants. So tell the news again—
I’ll listen. I’m no stranger to misfortune.

MESSENGER: Dear lady, I’ll speak of what I saw,
omitting not one detail of the truth.
Why should I ease your mind with a report
which turns out later to be incorrect?
The truth is always best. I went to the plain,
accompanying your husband as his guide.                                                               1330
Polynices’s corpse, still unlamented,
was lying there, the greatest distance off,
torn apart by dogs.                                  [not shown on stage; only reported by messenger; spectacle repressed]
                                    We prayed to Pluto
and to Hecate, goddess of the road,       [Hecate=goddess of crossroads, magic, witchcraft, herbs and poisonous plants]
for their good will and to restrain their rage.
We gave the corpse a ritual wash, and burned
what was left of it on fresh-cut branches.
We piled up a high tomb of his native earth.

Then we moved to the young girl’s rocky cave,
the hollow cavern of that bride of death.                                                                  1340
From far away one man heard a voice
coming from the chamber where we’d put her
without a funeral—a piercing cry.
He went to tell our master Creon,
who, as he approached the place, heard the sound,
an unintelligible scream of sorrow.   [not actually heard by audience; only recounted by messenger; spectacle repressed]

He groaned and then spoke out these bitter words,   [He = Creon]
"Has misery made me a prophet now?
And am I traveling along a road
that takes me to the worst of all disasters?                                                              1350
I’ve just heard the voice of my own son.
You servants, go ahead—get up there fast.
Remove the stones piled in the entrance way,
then stand beside the tomb and look in there
to see if that was Haemon’s voice I heard,
or if the gods have been deceiving me."

Following what our desperate master asked,
we looked. In the furthest corner of the tomb
we saw Antigone hanging by the neck,
held up in a noose—fine woven linen.                                                             1360
Haemon had his arms around her waist—
he was embracing her and crying out
in sorrow for the loss of his own bride,
now among the dead, his father’s work,
and for his horrifying marriage bed.

Creon saw him, let out a fearful groan,
then went inside and called out anxiously,
"You unhappy boy, what have you done?
What are you thinking? Have you lost your mind?
Come out, my child—I’m begging you—please come."                                          1370 
But the boy just stared at him with savage eyes,   [him = Creon]
spat in his face and, without saying a word,
drew his two-edged sword. Creon moved away,
so the boy’s blow failed to strike his father.

Angry at himself, the ill-fated lad       [lad = Haemon]
right then and there leaned into his own sword,
driving half the blade between his ribs.
While still conscious he embraced the girl
in his weak arms, and, as he breathed his last,
he coughed up streams of blood on her fair cheek. [not shown on stage; only reported by messenger; spectacle repressed] 1380

Now he lies there, corpse on corpse, his marriage
has been fulfilled in chambers of the dead.
The unfortunate boy has shown all men
how, of all the evils which afflict mankind,
the most disastrous one is thoughtlessness.

[Instructor's note: Passages above read like spectacle, but recall that the Messenger only narrates the deaths of Antigone & Creon; these events are not directly represented on stage.]

[Eurydice turns and slowly returns into the palace]

CHORUS LEADER: What do you make of that? The queen’s gone back.
She left without a word, good or bad.

MESSENGER: I’m surprised myself. It’s about her son—
she heard that terrible report. I hope
she’s gone because she doesn’t think it right                                                         1390
to mourn for him in public. In the home,
surrounded by her servants, she’ll arrange
a period of mourning for the house.
She’s discreet and has experience—
she won’t make mistakes.

CHORUS LEADER:  I’m not sure of that.
to me her staying silent was extreme—
it seems to point to something ominous,
just like a vain excess of grief.

MESSENGER:  I’ll go in.
We’ll find out if she’s hiding something secret,
deep within her passionate heart. You’re right—                                                    1400
excessive silence can be dangerous.

[The Messenger goes up the stairs into the palace. Enter Creon from the side, with attendants. Creon is holding the body of Haemon] [limited spectacle]