To banish thee from that last home: I invoke
The Spirits who haunt this ground, and the fierce God
Who hath filled you both with this unnatural hate.—
Go now with all this in thine ears, and tell
The people of Cadmus and thy firm allies
In whom thou trustest, what inheritance
Oedipus hath divided to his sons.
Ch. ’Tis pity for thee, prince, to have come at all:
And now we bid thee go the way thou camest.
Pol. Alas! Vain enterprise, and hope undone!
Oh, my poor comrades! To what fatal end
I led you forth from Argos, woe is me!
I may not tell it you,—no, nor return.
In silence I must go to meet my doom.
Daughters of this inexorable sire,
Since now ye have heard his cruel curse on me,
Ah! in Heaven’s name, my sisters, do not you
Treat me despitefully, but if, one day,
Our father’s execration is fulfilled
And ye shall be restored to Theban ground,
Grace me with funeral honours and a tomb!
So shall this ample praise which ye receive
For filial ministration, in that day
Be more than doubled through your care for me.
Ant. Brother, I beg thee, listen to my prayer!
Pol. Dearest Antigone, speak what thou wilt.
Ant. Turn back thy host to Argos with all speed,
And ruin not thyself and Thebè too.
Pol. Impossible. If once I shrink for fear,
No longer may I lead them to the war.
Ant. But why renew thy rage? What benefit
Comes to thee from o’erturning thine own land?
Pol. ’Tis shameful to remain in banishment,
And let my brother mock my right of birth.
Ant. Then seest thou not how true unto their aim
Our father’s prophecies of mutual death
Against you both are sped?
Pol. He speaks his wish.
’Tis not for me to yield.
Ant. O me, unhappy!
