ANTIGONE 183
Enter Messenger.
3Iessenger. Ye men of Cadmus and Amphion's house,^ I know no life of mortal man which I Would either praise or blame. 'T is Fortune's chance That raiseth up, and Fortune bringeth low, The man who lives in good or catI plight ; 12*0
And prophet of men's future there is none. For Creon, so I deemed, deserved to be At once admired and envied, having saved This land of Cadmus from the hands of foes ; And, having ruled with fullest sovereignty, 1245
He lived and prospered, joyous in a race Of goodly offspring. Now, all this is gone ; For when men lose the joys that sweeten life, I cannot deem they live, but rather count As if a breathing corpse. His heaped-up stores 1250 Of wealth are large, so be it, and he lives AVith all a sovereign's state ; and yet, if joy Be absent, all the rest I count as nought, And would not weigh them against pleasure's charm. More than a vapor's shadow.
Chorus. What is this ? 1255
What new disaster tell'st thou of our chiefs ?
Messenger. Dead are they, and the living cause their death.
Chorus. Who slays, and who is slaughtered ? Tell thy tale.
Messenger. Haemon is dead, slain, weltering in his blood.
Chorus. By his own act, or by his father's hand ?
1 In the myths of the foundation of Thehes, Amphion was said to have buUt its walls by the mere power of his minstrelsy, the stones moving, as he played, each into its appointed place.
