Antigone (Student Editions)

by Sophocles

the Sophoclean hero is a character who, in the face of human opposition, makes a decision which derives from his individual nature, and then passionately maintains that decision even to the point of self-destruction. The hero decides against compromise as he refuses to yield;

Although Creon maintains his confident expectation that Antigone’s defiant mood will be subdued, he is proved wrong as she goes to her death undefeated like a true Sophoclean heroine.

Senators: our country, like a ship at sea, Has survived the hurricane.

Each brother shedding a brother’s blood.

When I see any threat to this nation, From whatever direction, I shall make it public.

Foresadowing

CREON. And yet you dared to disobey the law? ANTIGONE. Yes, I did. Because it’s your law, Not the law of god.

You are merely a man, mortal, Like me, and laws that you enact Cannot overturn ancient moralities Or common human decency.

This is her father speaking. Stubborn Like him, she won’t give way, not even With the whole power of the State against her.

She is my niece, my sister’s child. But I am the law. And that responsibility Is above kinship.

ANTIGONE. I love my brother. I honour him dead As I loved him living. There’s no shame in that. CREON. And the one he murdered? Wasn’t he your brother? ANTIGONE. My mother bore them both, and I loved them both. CREON. If you honour one, you insult the other.

And no man can claim to have understood Hope or ambition, till the flames burn Under his feet, and the once solid wood Of his life is reduced to its last condition, Ashes, and dust.

there’s no hatred So violent as the hatred of two people Who were once in love.

But it’s also true to say That some men think differently about these things, And as your son, my most useful function, It seems to me, is to keep you in touch With what other people are thinking, What they say, and do, and approve or disapprove of, And sometimes what they leave unsaid. The prospect of your disapproval is a great Silencer of most men’s tongues, and some things Are never said, for fear of the consequences. But I can sometimes hear what people whisper Behind their hands: and everywhere, I hear sympathy Expressed for this unfortunate girl,

Then let me beg you to have second thoughts, And not be certain that your own opinion Is the only right one, and that all men share it.

Absolute certainty is fine, if a man Can be certain that his wisdom is absolute.

CREON. Is there indeed? Am I expected to listen And take lessons in political tactics At my age, from a mere boy? HAEMON. I’m a man, Father, and my arguments are just. They stand upon their merits, not my age.

CREON. I’m speaking like a king. It’s my responsibility, And I will act according to my own convictions! HAEMON. When the State becomes one man it ceases to be a State! CREON. The State is the statesman who rules it, it reflects His judgement, it belongs to him! HAEMON. Go and rule in the desert then! There’s nobody there To argue with you! What a king you’ll be there!

My eyes will have their way and weep, Seeing Antigone, like a young bride Going to her bedchamber, to marry the dead And share their everlasting sleep.

Unmarked, untouched, you pass From the dangerous light Into the safety of eternal night, Alive, alone, and free.

CHORUS. No one has ever dared To go so far before As you have dared to go. Now you have stumbled, and stubbed your toe And will shortly shed your blood On the marble staircase of the law.

What moral law Have I broken? What eternal truths Have I denied? Yet now, not even a god Can help me, and there’s no man who will, I’m sure of that. No help, and no hope.

Don’t comfort yourself with hope. There’s none.

You’re like a man balanced on a razor, Likely to fall – or cut himself to pieces.

My son, listen to me. Any man Can make a mistake, or commit a crime. The man who can recognise what he has done, See that he was mistaken, or morally wrong, Admit it, and put it right, that man Proves that it is never too late to become Wise, and no one will condemn him. But if he compounds his stupidity With stubbornness, and an obstinate refusal To face the facts, he is nothing but a fool. Is there anyone more stupid than the stupid man Who cannot see his own stupidity?

when all the time Naked self-interest, and the greed for profit Are the only motives that matter to him!

You made me angry, Creon, with Your crude accusations. So I made you my target: And like a good marksman, all my shots Have hit the bull.

If I’ve changed my mind, I’ll act upon it With exactly the same determination. I sentenced her, and I’ll set her free, Tear down the bricks with my own hands If necessary. Perhaps it is wiser To let the old laws stand.

MESSENGER. They’re both dead. And the living must take the blame. CHORUS. Who killed them? Who’s dead? What happened? Tell us! MESSENGER. The king’s son, Haemon. The royal blood Shed by a royal hand.

A kind of weird sobbing, or moaning, Low and unearthly, as though grief were speaking Its own naked language.

CREON. There can be nothing worse. My heart is broken. MESSENGER. Your wife is dead, the mother of this slaughtered son. Her wound is fresh, but the breath of life is gone.

CREON. Unending Unendurable pain. This is the second time I am forced to see What no man’s eyes should ever see, Even once. Is this how it ends?

There must be a sword, somewhere, A sharp, two-edged knife To cut away my life.

CREON. Where are you, my friend? Come you shadowy Messenger who runs faster than the wind, Wrap me in darkness, as a friend should! Why waste another day? What good Is daylight to me? Why should my misery Darken the face of another dawn? Pull down the blind.

CHORUS. Tomorrow is a mystery. No man can say What time will make plain. We live day by day. The future is in greater hands than ours.

CREON. I am nothing. I want nothing. My last, simplest prayers. CHORUS. No time for prayers now. Too late to pray. What must ...

CHORUS. The key to human happiness Is to nurture wisdom in your heart, For man to attend to man’s business And let the gods play their part: Above all, to stand in awe Of the eternal, unalterable law. The proud man may pretend In his arrogance to despise Everything but himself. In the end The gods will bring him to grief. Today it has happened here. With our own eyes We have seen an old man, through suffering, become wise.