Antigone. Speak thus, and hated wilt thou be by me,
And hated justly too by him that ’s gone.
Leave me and this unwisdom that is mine
To suffer this thou fear’st. To suffer? Naught
There is that I shall suffer in this world
That equals suffering an ignoble death;
And nothing shall I suffer by this act
That will deprive me of a glorious death.
Ismene. Go, if thou wilt; in folly truly, though,
Yet truly dear to dear ones dost thou go.
CHORUS.
FIRST STROPHE.
O beam of sun, the fairest
That ever dawned on Thebes,
And ray of light the rarest
That ever shone on all
Within the Seven Gates!
Day’s open eye and golden gleam,
Thou ’rt come at last o’er Dirce’s stream,
And from our casamates
In mad career to headlong flight
The warriors that in bucklers white
From Argos sallied forth with bristling spears
Thou hast repulsed and freed us from our fears.
FIRST SYSTEMA.
Against our land the savage warrior came,
In Polyneices’ quarrel, by his claim
To the throne aroused;
For the cause he espoused
A shrill-screaming eagle in flight,
With an army strong,
Crest and helmets along,
He sped to our land on a pinion of white.
