CREON

Oh mighty king, not causeless now I come, To find, that long have sought your majesty. So to discharge the duty that I owe To you, by comfort and by counsel both. I understand, the army that he brings Against these walls, is such, that I me doubt Our cities force may scarce the same resist. Yet true it is, that right and reason both Are on our side, which bring the victory Oftentimes: for we our country to defend, They to subdue the same in arms are come. But what I would unto your highness show, Is of more weight, and more behooves to know. A Greek prisoner is come unto my hands. That even already be their ranks in ray, And straight will give assault to these our walls. Oh Prince (and pardon me) thy youthful years Nor see them self, ne let Thee once discern, What best behooves in this doubtful case. "For Prudence, she that is the mighty Queen "Of all good works, grows by experience, "Which is not found with few days seeking for. We be but few; and they in number great. That know I not, nor am I sure to say. That would I Like, but harden it is to do. In counsel yet the victory consists. What else? be still awhile, fir haste makes wast. So may you do and take the overthrown. Yet skirmish given by night is perilous. Sudden assaults affray the mind no doubt, But we had need to overcome. No sure, unless some other counsel help. As who should say, were none to make defence. No, but advise you well if you be wise. Then shall I say that best does seem to me? Seven men of courage have they chosen out. But they them chosen for guides and captains. Nay, to assault the seven gates of the city. With equal number see you do them match. Choosing the best and boldest bloods in Thebes. Well with the rest, for one man sees not all. Nay both, for one without that other fails. That one must be fast to that other joined The Lord defend, for that unworthy were. As you command, so ought I to perform. Gramercy worthy prince, for all thy love And faithful trust thou dost in me repose, And if should hap, that I hope never shall, I promise yet to do what best behooves, But chiefly this I swear and make a vow, For Pollinices now our cruel foe, To hold the hest that thou dost me command. Comfort thy self divine, Creon thy friend Lo stands here, and came to meet with Thee To ease the pain that thou mightest else sustain. "For unto eld eke travel yields annoy: And thou his daughter and his faithful guide Lo rest him here, and rest thou there withal Thy virgins hands, that in sustaining him Dost well acquit the duty of a child. "For crooked age and hoary silver hears "Still craveth help of lusty youthful years. What I would have of Thee Tyresia's Is not a thing so soon for to be said, But rest a while thy weak and weary limbs And take some breath now after weary walk, And tell I pray Thee, what this crown does mean, That sits so kingly on thy skilful head? So take I then this thy victorious crown, For our avail in token of good luck, That knowest, how the discord and debate Which late is fallen between these brothers twain, Hath brought all Thebes in danger and in dread. Eteocles our king, with threatening arms, Is gone against his greekish enemies, Commanding me to learn of Thee (who art A true divine of things that be to come) What were for us the safest to be done, From peril now our country to preserve. Lo here the temple, and ere long I look To see the holy Priest that hither continued ̄ mes, Bringing with him the pure and fair offerings, Which thou requirest, for not long since, I sent For him, as one that am not ignorant Of all your rites and sacred ceremonies: He went to choose amid our heard of goats, The fattest there: and look where now he comes. Alas for courtesy Say on Tyresia's, never have respect To any living man, but tell the truth. Yet stay a while. Why fléest thou? Yet tell me what behooves the city do? And would not I with eager mind desire The thing that may for Thebes ought avail? For nothing else I sent my son of late To seek for Thee. Not far from me. Why wouldst thou that he should not be here? He is my son, ne will he it reveal. Yea, be thou sure that he no less than I, Does wish full well unto this common weal. cruel words, o, o, what hast thou said, Thou cruel soothsayer? How many evils hast thou knit up in one? And let my country perish, what care I? Cruel were he, that would not love his child. To lose mine own, I list none other save. Depart, for now, with all thy prophecies. Yet pray I Thee by these thy silver hears, And by thy holy spirit of prophecy, "That to no more this secret thou reveals. I pray Thee hold thy peace. Well, yet be thou content To keep full close this secret hidden grief. Shall I be then the murderer of mine own? Can heavens condemn but him alone to die? "Unjust is he condemns the innocent. "There can no ill thing come from heave ̄ S above. I not believe that thou hast talked with God. Out of my sighed accursed lying wretch. I can not praise this witless will of thine. I can not choose, deer son, but disallow This thy too hasty, hight desire of death: For if thy life thou settest all so Light, Yet oughtest thou thy father me respect, Who as I draw the more to lumpish age, So much more need have I to crave thine aid: Ne will I yet, with stubborn tonge deny, "That for his common weal to spend his life, "Does win the subject high renowned name. "But how? in Armour to defend the state, "Not Like a beast to bleed in sacrifice: And therewithal, if any should consent To such a death, then should the same be I, That have prolonged life even long enough, Ne many days have I now to draw on. And more avail might to the country come, Dear son, to hold that lusty life of thine That art both young and eke of courage stout, Than may by me that Feeble am and old. Then live deer son in high prosperity, And give me leave that worthy am to die. If such a death bring glory, give it me, We be but one in flesh and body both. If thou son die, think not that I can line: Then let me die, and so shall he first die, That ought to die, and yet but one shall die. Thy wit is wily for to work this woe. "A beast is he, that kills himself with knife, "Of pity to preserve and others life. The Gods will not the death of any wight. But thou dost strive to take thy life thy self. What fault, Oh son, condemneth Thee to death? I see no guilt in Thee that death deserves. How should we know what is the will of God? As though he would come down to tell it us. O, fond is he, who thinks to understand The mysteries of oue his secret mind: And for to end this controversy here, Lo thus I say, I will we both live yet: Prepare Thee then, my hests to hold and keep, And pull a down that stubborn heart of thine. Then Thee behooves out of this town to : Before the bold and bl idem Tyresia's Do publish this that is as yet unknown Where thou mayste be hence furthest out of sighed. Go to the land of That S eotia. Even there my child. high Jove. There will I send Thee heaps of glistering gold. Credit long I hope: but now, for now depart, For every lingering let or little stay, May purchase pain and torment both to me. O, tarry not my deer son, tarry not. If so the mind may dread his own mishap, Then dread I much, this man that seeks me thus, Hath brought the death of my beloved son. Alas who can withstand the heavenly powers? Well, it beseems not me, ne yet my years, In bootless plaint to wast my wailful tear S: Do thou recount to me his luckless death, The order, form, and manner of the same. No more, I have enough, return you now From whence you came. Into the camp? alas and what to do? Alas, the funerals of my deer son Dismayed me so, that I ne did receive, Ne seek to know these new unwelcome news. But lo, behold a plain apparent sign Of further fears, the furious troubled looks Of him that comes here so hastily. Yet more mishap? and what unhappy news? Out and alas, to me and to this town Thou dost account great ruin and decay: You royal family of Oedipus, And hear you this? your liege and sovereign Lords The brothers both are slain and done to death. Oh worthy young Lords, that unworthy were Of such unworthy death, Oh me most wretch. And can there be more misery than this? Oh Jocasta, miserable mother, What hapless end thy life alas hath he to? Percase the heavens purveyed had the same, Moved thereto by the wicked wedlock Of Oedipus thy son, yet might thy scuse Be justly made, that knew not of the crime. But tell me messenger, o tell me yet The death of these two brothers, driven thereto, Not thus all only by their dreary fate, But by the banning and the bitter curse Of their cruel sire, born for our annoy, And here on earth the only soursse of evil. O Oedipus, I must be wail the death Of thy deer sons, that were my nephews both, But of these blows thou oughtest feel the smart, That with thy wonted prayers, thus hast brought Such noble bloods to this unnoble end. But now tell on, what followed of the Queen? So hast thou reason Oedipus, to say, And for my part I would thee counsel eke, Still to maintain the high and haughty mind, That hath dene even in thy noble heart: For this be sure, if thou wouldst kiss e these knees, And practice eke by prayer to pr ail, No pity could persuade me to consent That thou remain one only hour in That bes. And now, prepare you worthy Citizens, The funerals that duly do pertain Unto the Queen, and to Eteocles, And eke for them provide their stately tombs. But Pollynice, as common enemy Unto his country, carry forth his corpse Out of the walls, ne none so hardy be On pain of death his body to engrave, But in the fields let him unburied lie, Without his honour, and without complain, And open pray for savage beasts to spoil. And thou Antigone, dry up thy tears, Pluck up thy sprites, and cheer thy harmless heart. To marriage: for ere these two days pass, Thou shalt espouse Hemone mine only heir. Bore he not arms against his native land? Perforce to Thee he shall unburied be. And with him eke then will I bury Thee. Go sirs, lay hold on his, and take his in. Canst thou undo the thing that is decreed? The ground ne shall ne ought to cover him. Away I say, thy prayers not prevail. Thou dost but waste thy words amid the wind. It can not be that I should grant Thee so. Oh simple wench, Oh fond and foolish girl, Beware, beware, thy tears do not foretell Some sign of hard mishap unto thy marriage. Dost thou refuse the marriage of my son? Against thy will then must I Thee constrain. What canst thou casue that I should once repent And what a fool were thou to kill thy self? Speak out Antigone, that I may hear. Oh simple fool, and darest thou be so bold? And wherefore dost thou wedlock so despise? What others might befeme, beseems not Thee. Depart, depart, and with thy father die, Rather than kill my child with bloody knife: Go hellish monster, go out of the town. So would not I, so would Eteocles. Is then a fault to do a kings continued ̄ maund? Is it unjust that he unburied be? He was his countries' cruel enemy.