Page:The Antigone of Sophocles (1911).djvu/63

SOPHOCLES. The man hath uttered dreadful prophecies,

My lord, and gone; and since these locks of mine,

Once dark, have turned all white with age, I know

Of not a single instance where the seer

Hath spoken falsely to the town of Thebes.

I know it too, and in my soul am troubled:

’T is hard to yield, but to resist and strike

My spirit with a curse is still more dire.

Son of Menœces, wisely shoutdst thou choose.

What must I do then? Speak and I obey.

Go, free the maiden from the prison-vault,

And lay th’ unburied body in the grave.

You really counsel thus, advise to yield?

As quickly as you can; for swift of foot

Runs Heaven’s vengeance after foolish men.

Oh, hard it is! But I obey and yield—

I cannot wage a war with Destiny.

Go then and do—entrust it not to others.

I ’ll go at once. Come, servants, one and all,

Get axes quickly, hasten to yon hill.

I mewed her up, and now that my resolve

Has changed, I ’ll come myself to give her freedom.

I see that justice which the gods uphold,

Should ever be the highest aim of life.

[Exit R.

Offspring of Zeus on high

That thunders so loud in the sky,

Glory, delight, beside,

Of the famed Cadmeian bride,

God of many a name and fair!

Thou that carest for all

Who on Bacchus in Italy call

And in Deo’s sheltered plain

Of Eleusis lord dost reign,

Whither worshippers repair!