trembling; and through my flesh goes a throb of pity, of pity for the hapless mother. Which of her two sons will stain the other with blood—ah, for the suffering! O Zeus, O earth, alas!—a brother’s throat, a brother’s life, through his shield, through his blood? Ah me! ah me! which of themwill I lament as dead?
ChorusAh, the earth! Ah, the earth! Twin savage beasts, two murderous souls with brandished spears will soon be draining the fallen, fallen enemy’s blood. Unhappy,that they ever thought of single combat! In foreign voice I will chant a dirge of tears and wailing, in mourning for the dead. Close to murder stands their fortune;the coming day will decide it. Fatal this slaughter, fatal, because of the Furies.
Chorus LeaderBut hark! I see Creon on his way here to the house with clouded brow, and so I will cease my present lamentations.CreonAh me! what shall I do? Am I to mourn with tears myself or my city, which has a cloud around it as if it went through Acheron? My son has died for his country, bringing glory to his name, but grievous woe to me.His body I have just now taken from the dragon’s rocky lair and sadly carried the self-slain victim here in my arms; and the house is filled with weeping; but now I have come for my sister Jocasta, age seeking age, that she may bathe my child’s corpse and lay it out.For those who are not dead must reverence the god below by paying honor to the dead.Chorus LeaderYour sister, Creon, has gone out, and her daughter Antigone went with her.CreonWhere did she go? What happened? Tell me.Chorus LeaderShe heard that her sons were about to engage in single combat for the royal house.CreonWhat do you mean? In my tenderness to my dead son, I was not able to learn this.Chorus LeaderIt is some time, Creon, since your sister’s departure,and I expect the struggle for life and death is already decided by the sons of Oedipus.CreonAlas! I see a sign there, the gloomy look and face of the messenger coming to tell us the whole matter.MessengerAh, woe is me! What story can I tell, what lament can I make?CreonWe are lost; your opening words have no fair appearance.MessengerAh, woe is me! I say again; for I am bringing great horrors.