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OLD SERVANT
He is yonder； ranged next to Adrastus near the tomb of Niobe's
seven unwed daughters。 Dost see him？
ANTIGONE
I see him； yes！ but not distinctly； 'tis but the outline of his
form the semblance of his stalwart limbs I see。 Would I could speed
through the sky； swift as a cloud before the wind； towards my own dear
brother； and throw my arms about my darling's neck； so long； poor boy！
an exile。 How bright his golden weapons flash like the sun…god's
morning rays！
OLD SERVANT
He will soon be here； to fill thy heart with joy； according to the
truce。
ANTIGONE
Who is that； old man； on yonder car driving snow…white steeds？
OLD SERVANT
That； lady； is the prophet Amphiaraus； with him are the victims；
whose streaming blood the thirsty earth will drink。
ANTIGONE
Daughter of Latona with the dazzling zone； O moon； thou orb of
golden light！ how quietly； with what restraint he drives； goading
first one horse； then the other！ But where is Capaneus who utters
those dreadful threats against this city？
OLD SERVANT
Yonder he is； calculating how he may scale the towers； taking
the measure of our walls from base to summit。
ANTIGONE
O Nemesis； with booming thunder…peals of Zeus and blazing
levin…light； thine it is to silence such presumptuous boasting。 Is
this the man； who says he will give the maids of Thebes as captives of
his spear to Mycenae's dames； to Lerna's Trident； and the waters of
Amymone； dear to Poseidon； when he has thrown the toils of slavery
round them？ Never； never； Artemis； my queen revered； child of Zeus
with locks of gold； may I endure the yoke of slavery！
OLD SERVANT
My daughter； go within； and abide beneath the shelter of thy
maiden chamber； now that thou hast had thy wish and seen all that
thy heart desired； for I see a crowd of women moving toward the
royal palace； confusion reigning in the city。 Now the race of women by
nature loves to find fault； and if they get some slight handle for
their talk they exaggerate it； for they seem to take a pleasure in
saying everything bad of one another。
（ANTIGONE and the OLD SERVANT descend into the palace； as the
CHORUS of PHOENICIAN MAIDENS enters。）
CHORUS （singing）
strophe 1
From the Tyrian main I come； an offering choice for Loxias from
Phoenician isle； to minister to Phoebus in his halls； where his fane
lies nestling 'neath the snow…swept peaks of Parnassus； over the
Ionian sea I rowed my course； for above the plains unharvested； that
fringe the coast of Sicily； the boisterous west…wind coursed； piping
sweetest music in the sky。
antistrophe 1
Chosen from my city as beauty's gift for Loxias； to the land of
Cadmus I came； sent thither to the towers of Laius； the home of my
kin； the famous sons of Agenor； and there I became the handmaid of
Phoebus； dedicated like his offerings of wrought gold。 But as yet
the water of Castaly is waiting for me to bedew the maiden glory of my
tresses for the service of Phoebus。
epode
Hail！ thou rock that kindlest bright fire above the twin…peaked
heights of Dionysus。 Hail！ thou vine； that； day by day； makest the
lush bunches of thy grapes to drip。 Hail！ awful cavern of the serpent；
and the god's outlook on the hills； and sacred mount by snow…storms
lashed！ would I were now circling in the dance of the deathless god；
free from wild alarms； having left Dirce ere this for the vales of
Phoebus at the centre of the world！
strophe 2
But now I find the impetuous god of war is come to battle before
these walls； and hath kindled murder's torch in this city。 God grant
he fail！ for a friend's sorrows are also mine； and if this land with
its seven towers suffer any mischance； Phoenicia's realm must share
it。 Ah me！ our stock is one； all children we of Io； that horned
maid； whose sorrows I partake。
antistrophe 2
Around the city a dense array of serried shields is rousing the
spectre of bloody strife； whose issue Ares shall soon learn to his
cost； if he brings upon the sons of Oedipus the horrors of the
curse。 O Argos； city of Pelasgia！ I dread thy prowess and the
vengeance Heaven sends； for he who cometh against our home in full
panoply is entering the lists with justice on his side。
（POLYNEICES enters alone。）
POLYNEICES
Those who kept watch and ward at the gate admitted me so readily
within the walls that my only fear is； that now they have caught me in
their toils； they will not let me out unscathed； so I must turn my eye
in every direction； hither and thither； to guard against all
treachery。 Armed with this sword； I shall inspire myself with the
trust that is born of boldness。 （Starting） What ho！ who goes there？ or
is it an idle sound I fear？ Everything seems a danger to venturous
spirits； when their feet begin to tread an enemy's country。 Still I
trust my mother； and at the same time mistrust her for persuading me
to come hither under truce。 Well； there is help at hand； for the
altar's hearth is close and there are people in the palace。 Come；
let me sheath my sword in its dark scabbard and ask these maidens
standing near the house； who they are。
Ladies of another land； tell me from what country ye come to the
halls of Hellas。
LEADER OF THE CHORUS
Phoenicia is my native land where I was born and bred； and
Agenor's children's children sent me hither as a first…fruits of the
spoils of war foy Phoebus； but when the noble son of Oedipus was about
to escort me to the hallowed oracle and the altars of Loxias； came
Argives meantime against his city。 Now tell me in return who thou
art that comes to this fortress of the Theban realm with its seven
gates。
POLYNEICES
My father was Oedipus； the son of Laius； my mother Jocasta；
daughter of Menoeceus； and I am called Polyneices by the folk of
Thebes。
CHORUS （chanting）
O kinsman of Agenor's race； my royal masters who sent me hither at
thy feet； prince； I throw myself； according to the custom of my
home。 At last art thou come to thy native land； at last！ Hail to thee！
all hail！ Come forth； my honoured mistress； open wide the doors。
Dost hear； O mother of this chief？ Why art thou delaying to leave
the sheltering roof to fold thy son in thy embrace？
（JOCASTA enters from the palace。）
JOCASTA （chanting）
Maidens； I hear you call in your Phoenician tongue； and my old
feet drag their tottering steps to meet my son。 O my son； my son； at
last after many a long day I see thee face to face； throw thy arms
about thy mother's bosom； reach hither thy cheek to me and thy dark
locks of clustering hair； o'ershadowing my neck therewith。 Hail to
thee！ all hail！ scarce now restored to thy mother's arms； when hope
and expectation both were dead。 What can I say to thee？ how recall
in every way； by word； by deed； the bliss of days long past；
expressing my joy in the mazy measures of the dance？ Ah！ my son；
thou didst leave thy father's halls desolate； when thy brother's
despite drove thee thence in exile。 Truly thou wert missed alike by
thy friends and Thebes。 This was why I cut off my silvered locks and
let them fall for grief with many a tear； not clad in robes of
white； my son； but instead thereof taking for my wear these sorry
sable tatters； while within the palace that aged one with sightless
orbs； ever nursing the sorrow of a double regret for the pair of
brethren estranged from their home； rushed to lay hands upon himself
with the sword or by the noose suspended o'er his chamber…roof；
moaning his curses on his sons； and now he buries himself in darkness；
weeping ever and lamenting。 And thou； my child；…I hear thou hast taken
an alien to wife and art begetting children to thy joy in thy home；
they tell me thou art courting a foreign alliance； a ceaseless woe
to me thy mother and to Laius thy ancestor； to have this woeful
marriage foisted on us。 'Twas no hand of mine that lit for thee the
marriage…torch； as custom ordains and as a happy mother ought； no part
had Ismenus at thy wedding in supplying the luxurious bath； and
there was silence through the streets of Thebes； what time thy young
bride entered her home。 Curses on them！ whether it be the sword or
strife or thy sire that is to blame； or heaven's visitation that
hath burst so riotously upon the house of Oedipus； for on me is come
all the anguish of these troubles。
LEADER OF THE CHORUS
Wondrous dear to woman is the child of her travail； and all her
race hath some affection for its babes。
POLYNEICES
Mother；