Herald:
Nay-but for one man's sin he smote the State.
Antigone
Contention doth out-talk all other gods!
Prate thou no more-I will to bury him.
Herald:
Will, an thou wilt! but I forbid the deed.
The Herald goes out.
Chorus:
singing
Exulting Fates, who waste the line
And whelm the house of Oedipus!
Fiends, who have slain, in wrath condign,
The father and the children thus!
What now befits it that I do,
What meditate, what undergo?
Can I the funeral rite refrain,
Nor weep for Polyneices slain?
But yet, with fear I shrink and thrill,
Presageful of the city's will!
Thou, O Eteocles, shalt have
Full rites, and mourners at thy grave,
But he, thy brother slain, shall he,
With none to weep or cry Alas,
To unbefriended burial pass?
Only one sister o'er his bier,
To raise the cry and pour the tear-
Who can obey such stern decree?
Studies
