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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TIRESIAS: [Led by a young boy] Princes of Thebes,
we have come with linked steps, both served by the eyes of one;
for thus, by a guide's help, the blind must walk. Thou standest
on fate's fine edge. If thou wouldst learn the meaning of my
words, heed the warnings of mine art. As I took my place on mine
old seat of augury, where all birds have been wont to gather
within my ken, I heard a strange voice among them; they were
screaming with dire, feverish rage, that drowned their language
in jargon; and I knew that they were rending each other with
their talons, murderously; the whirr of wings told no doubtful
tale. Forthwith, in fear, I essayed a burnt-sacrifice on a duly
kindled altar: but from my offerings the Fire-god showed no flame;
a dank moisture, oozing from the thigh-flesh, trickled forth
upon the embers, and smoked, and sputtered; the gall was scattered
to the air; and the streaming thighs lay bared of the fat that
had been wrapped round them. Such was the failure of the rites
by which I vainly asked a sign, as from this boy I learned; for
he is my guide, as I am guide to others. And 'tis thy counsel
that hath brought this sickness on our state. For the altars
of our city and of our hearths have been tainted, one and all,
by birds and dogs, with carrion from the hapless corpse, the
son of Oedipus: and therefore the gods no more accept prayer
and sacrifice at our hands, or the flame of meat-offering; nor
doth any bird give a clear sign by its shrill cry, for they have
tasted the fatness of a slain man's blood. Think, then, on these
things, my son. All men are liable to err; but when an error
hath been made, that man is no longer witless or unblest who
heals the ill into which he hath fallen, and remains not stubborn.
Self-will, we know, incurs the charge of folly. Nay, allow the
claim of the dead; stab not the fallen; what prowess is it to
slay the slain anew? I have sought thy good, and for thy good
I speak: and never is it sweeter to learn from a good counsellor
than when he counsels for thine own gain.
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MONOLOGUES BY SOPHOCLES |
