Page:Masterpieces of Greek Literature (1902).djvu/215

185 ANTIGONE 185

To temper wrath with pity, him they washed

With holy washing ; and what yet was left

We burnt in branches freshly cut, and heaped

A high-raised grave from out his native soil,

And then we entered on the stone-paved home, 1290

Death's marriage-chamber for the ill-starred maid.

And some one hears, while standing yet afar,

Shrill voice of wailing near the bridal bower,

By funeral rites unhallowed, and he comes

And tells my master, Creon. On his ears, 1295

Advancing nearer, falls a shriek confused

Of bitter sorrow, and with groaning loud,

He utters one sad cry, " ]Me miserable I

And am I then a prophet ? Do I wend

This day the dreariest way of all my life ? 1300

My son's voice greets me. Go, my servants, go,

Quickly draw near, and standing by the tomb.

Search ye and see ; and where the stone torn out

Shall make an opening, look ye in, and say

If I hear Haemon's voice, or if my soul 1305

Is cheated by the Gods." And then we searched.

As he, our master, in his frenzy bade us ;

And, in the furthest corner of the vault.

We saw her hanging by her neck, with cord

Of linen threads entwined, and him we found isio

Clasping her form in passionate embrace.

And mourning o'er the doom that robbed him of her,

His father's deed, and that his marriage bed.

So full of woe. When Creon saw him there,

Groaning aloud in bitterness of heart, 1315

He goes to him, and calls in wailing voice,

" Poor boy ! what hast thou done ? Hast thou then

lost Thy reason ? In what evil sinkest thou ?