ANTIGONE
A monologue from the
play by Sophocles
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NOTE: This monologue is reprinted
from Greek Dramas. Ed. Bernadotte Perrin. New York: D.
Appleton and Company, 1904. |
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GUARD: My liege, I will not say that I come breathless
from speed, or that I have plied a nimble foot; for often did
my thoughts make me pause, and wheel round in my path, to return.
My mind was holding large discourse with me: "Fool, why
goest thou to certain doom?" "Wretch, tarrying again?
And if Creon hears this from another, must not thou smart for
it?" So debating, I went on my way with lagging steps, and
thus a short road was made long. At last, however, it carried
the day that I should come hither--to thee; and, though my tale
be naught, yet will I tell it; for I come with a good grip on
one hope--that I can suffer nothing but is my fate. The corpse--some
one hath just given it burial, and gone away--after sprinkling
thirsty dust on the flesh with such other rites as piety enjoins.
I know not what living man hath dared this deed; no stroke of
pickaxe was seen there, no earth thrown up by mattock; the ground
was hard and dry, unbroken, without track of wheels; the doer
was one who had left no trace. And when the first day-watchman
showed it to us, sore wonder fell on all. The dead man was veiled
from us; not shut within a tomb, but lightly strewn with dust,
as by the hand of one who shunned a curse. And no sign met the
eye as though any beast of prey or any dog had come nigh to him,
or torn him. Then evil words flew fast and loud among us, guard
accusing guard; and it would e'en have come to blows at last,
nor was there any to hinder. Every man was the culprit, and no
one was convicted, but all disclaimed knowledge of the deed.
And we were ready to take red-hot iron in our hands--to walk
through fire--to make oath by the gods that we had not done the
deed--that we were not privy to the planning or the doing. At
last, when all our searching was fruitless, one spake, who made
us all bend our faces on the earth in fear; for we saw not how
we could gainsay him, or escape mischance if we obeyed. His counsel
was that this deed must be reported to thee, and not hidden.
And this seemed best; and the lot doomed my hapless self to win
this prize. So here I stand--as unwelcome as unwilling, well
I wot; for no man delights in the bearer of bad news.
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MONOLOGUES BY SOPHOCLES |
