ANTIGONE

Never, never Sir. While you are here, Cythaeron's craggy mount Is my abided, and far prefern'd before Labdacus stately palace, or the towers Of wealthy Thebes, for which my brother's strive, What there I loved, I am possessed of here, My Father's presence; do not banish me Thither again; that place is banishment, While you are here; what but impiety, And brother's hatred shall I there behold? Be not unjust unto your self to think You have deserved death; the gods call that Mishap and error, which your cruel self Against your self call crime; love would not hold His vengeful thunder, if he judged it so. The age were good, were men as penitent For true and real faults, as you for that, Which ignorance hath wrought, and was the crime Of fate it self, not yours: you could not think That Theban Laius and Jocasta were Your happlesse parents; and too great a fear Of being guilty, made you what you feared. Remembering what the oracle foretold, You left a Kingdoms glory, and forsook Good Polybus and loving Merope, Your then supposed parents, and betook Your self unto a willing banishment. What more then this could you have done? to keep Your goodness, you forsook a crown, which others Strive to attain by all impiety. Yet cruel fate pursued you still, and made Your virtuous mind the way to your offence; As if the Gods themselves had punished you For striving to be innocent, when they Had-fore decreed your gilded, take comfort Sir, No man offends, but where the will consents. I cannot leave you Sir, nor show your death, But where I mean to bear you company. good Sir, go take some rest; do not destroy That life, on which another life depends. I see some signs of rest upon him now. Exeunt. My father is asleep; you powers above Send sweet refreshment to his wearied soul. O pity him, and punish not too far e That crime which fate and you your selves have made. He has already been himself a judge Too cruel to himself, to expiate His fatal errors, left a crown and sceptre, Fled men's society, and day it self, Torn out his innocent unhappy eyes. Now since he wants the comfort of your light Grant him a quiet undisturbed night. Young Aemon here? Sir, 'tis no fault That I can apprehend; or if it be, 'Tis such a fault as punishes it self. This is the house of sorrow; nought is here That can invite or recompense your coming. You come from Court, and speak as that has taught you. This place knows no such language. These are no times for Hymen, when the frown Of all the gods lies heavy on our house. O move that suit no more; but yet as far As my chased sorrow can admit of love, Let this suffice you, I do love your soul. And if this storm should clear, and I have power To marry ever, Aemon is the man Of all the world I choose. You have it. Ye powers of love, be all auspicious now. Hymen redeem the wrongs that thou hast done Our house already; had I never seen Young Aemon's face, never known his matchless worth, No other man or mind had ere had power To warm Antigones cold breast with love. Prosper that flame that you your selves did move. I know not how to answer you; the man Whose hearse I seek, was once a Thebes, prince; But since his native soil did prove to him So cruel, and unnatural, I dare Not call him Theban. Gentle Argos proved A kinder home to him, and freely gave What Thebes, though endue, denied, a princely state With royal nuptials; now among the souls Of those unburied Grecians wanders he, And still perhaps desires to be esteemed One of their company, hating for ever (Ah woe is me) the memory of Thebes. His name was Polynices, my unhappy, Though dearest brother. Ay me, how different was I from the love Which here a natural brother showed to him! Argos, how far dost thou disgrace our Thebes In nature and in honour! No other fury then the love of virtue, And reverence of the gods, moved me to this. Which were't to do again, not all the power Of hell, and tyrants should affright me from it. No, tyrant, no; Death cannot prove a punishment to me, Whose life was nought but sorrow; freed from this Unhappy world, in tother I shall come Most wished, and welcome to my father's sighed, And that deer brother, for whose sake I die. Weep not deer sister; your calamity Adds to my sufferings more: why were not all The Misery's of Cadmus woeful house Confined within our selves, and bounded here In fatal Thebes? why spread they so, to make The best of souls partaker? happy else, And safe for ever had your virtue lived Admired in wealthy Argos, had you never Near known the sad affinity of Thebes. Heaven forefend; May the joust gods hereafter recompense Argia's virtue with a happier love Then Polynices was, and happier friends Then Thebes can give, do not lament for me, Not fear the torments of my lingering death. I am provided of a remedy That shall delude the cruelty of Creon. Farewell my dearest Aemon, whose loved presence More then the sighed of day afflicts my soul To lose so soon, farewell where ere thou art, Till in the other world we meet again. Who calls Antigone? is it my Aemon? I love thee, Aemon, better then my life, And never truly wished to live till now, But now I cannot live. That sad disaster is befallen already; Fearing the pains that such a lingering death Might bring upon me, I have taken already A gentle poison down, which long before against some such dire occasion I prepared, I feel it work; my vital spirits fail. My dearest love farewell. Live long and happy; Let fate hereafter recompense to thee What ere her cruelty against me has wrought. Post to the West, bright Phaebus, and thou night, That robbest mortality of light, to lend them A greater blessing, rest and sweet ropose, Spread thy black mantle over yond mourning fields, Which those dead Grecians strew, where too too long My wronged brother Polynices lies Barred by unnatural, and injurious Thebes, Dead from a tomb, as living from a Crown. This wrong must I redress, assist me virtue, And all ye gods, that favour piety. I have at last escaped the curious eyes Of all that watched my actions, and expect Nought but the safe concealment of the night: Were but these rites performed, not Creons spite, Nor racks, nor tortures should my soul affright. About this place he lies, deer Ghost forgive Thy Sisters slackness, and with favour now Accept these loving, though late rites I do. A Grecian Lady? (so her habit speaks her) Some pious sorrow brings her to this place: Lady the gods assist your piety. I am that woeful maid. Pardon me royal sister, Are you Argia great Adrastus daughter? Let me adore the best of woman kind. Has your most faithful unexampled love Brought you so far, and on so cruel hazards To my dead brother? was it not enough That first so great a princess as your self Advanced a banished man, and freely gave That love to him, which happiest princes sought? But that his dire misfortunes evermore Should make your virtue wretched? Creon, Let impious acts Seek for excuses; I nor can, nor will So wrong the cause of heaven and piety, As once to plead a found excuse for that Which is my merit, for that act I say Which by direction from the gods themselves I have performed. Yes, their wicked laws, Which thwart the will of heaven, the rule of nature, And those pure principles, which human breasts Did at their first original derive From that Celestial essence: Such a law Was this which I have broke, in giving rites Of funeral to Polynices hearse, My dearest brother, this disobedience Thy servants (durst they speak) would justify; But foreign nations, and all future times In spite of tyrants threatenings shall commend What I have done, and though I die for this Unjustly now, yet the infernal judges, Whose sentence no mortality can escape, But must to all eternity sustain, Shall from their joust unpartial urns bestow Endless rewards beyond my sufferings far. I would, my dearest Aemon, Begone with thee rather then live; but fate Too cruel, fate prevents it. And witness all ye sacred deities, Though Polynices from his native Thebes Were banished long, yet from a sisters heart The love of thee could never be exiled, Nor Thebes without thy presence pleasing to me. How oft have I upon Cytherons mount Appeased my father's anger towards thee? And dost thou thus visit thy sister here? O my wronged brother?