Part one antigony, and is many before the palace gates, is many,
sister of my blood and heart? Seest thou how zeus would in our lives
fulfill the weird of Oedipus, a world of woes. For what of pain,
affliction, outrage, shame is lacking in our fortunes thine and mine?
And now this proclamation of to day made by our Captain General to the state,
what can its purport be? Didst here and heed? Or art thou
deaf? When friends are banned as foes to me antigony? No word of
friends has come or glad or grievous. Since we twain were reft of our
two brethren in one day by double fratricide, and since in the night our
argive leaguers fled, no later news has reached me to in spirit or deject
I know twas so, and therefore summoned thee beyond the gates to breathe it
in thine ear? What is it? Some dark secret, stir thy breast?
What but the thought of our two brothers dead, the one by Creon
graced with funeral rites, the other disappointed heataocles, he hath consigned to earth
as fame reports with obsequies that use and won't ordain so gracing him among the
dead below. But paranses a dishonored course. So by report, the royal
edict runs, no man may bury him or make lament, must leave him
tombless and unwept, a feast for kites to scent afar and swoop upon.
Such is the edict. If reports speak true of Creon, our most noble
Creon aim'd at thee and me I me too, and anon he will be
here to promulgate, for such as have not heard his mandate. Tis in
sooth no passing humor. For the edict says, whoe'er transgressors shall be stoned
to death. So stands it with us? Now is thine to show if
thou art worthy of thy blood or base? But how my rash fond sister,
in such case can I do anything to make or mar say? Wilt
thou aid me and a bet? Decide in what bold venture? What is
in thy thought? Lend me a hand to bear the corpse away? What
bury him? Despite the interdict, my brother, And though thou deny him
thine, no man shall say that I betrayed a brother wilt thou persist?
Though Creon has forbid, what right has he to keep me from mine own?
Bethink THEE Sister, of our father's fate, abhorred, dishonored, self,
convinced of sin, blinded himself his executioner. Think of his mother wife
ill sortid names done by a noose, herself had twined to death and last
our hapless brethren in one day, both in a mutual destiny, involved self
slaughtered, both the slayer and the slain, bethink, THEE Sister, We
are left alone, shall we not perish? Wretchedest of all, if in
defiance of the law we cross a monarch's will, weak women, think of
that not framed by nature to contend with men. Remember this too, that
the stronger rules, we must obey his orders, these or worse. Therefore,
I plead compulsion and entreat the dead to pardon. I perforce obey the
powers that be. Tis foolishness. I ween to overstep in aught the golden
mean. I urge no more, nay wert thou willing? Still, I
would not welcome such a fellowship. Go thine own way. Myself will bury
him. How sweet to die in such employ to rest, sister and brother
linked in love's embrace, A sinless sinner banned awhile on earth, but by
the dead commended, and with them, I shall abide forever. As for
THEE scorn. If thou wilt the eternal laws of Heaven, I scorn them
not. But to defy the state or break her ordinance, I have no
skill a specious pretext. I will go alone to lap my dearest brother in
the grave. My poor fond sister, how I fear for THEE. O
waste no fears on me. Look to thyself at least let no man know
of thine intent. But keep it close and secret, as will I.
Oh tell it, Sister, I shall hate THEE more if thou proclaim it
not to all the town. Thou hast a fiery soul for numbing work.
I pleasure those whom I would leafest. Please if thou succeed, but thou
art doomed to fail. When strength shall fail me, yes, but not
before. But if the ventures hopeless, why is say, sister, forbear?
Or I shall hate THEE soon, and the dead man will hate THEE
too with cause? Say I am mad, and give my madness rein to
wreck itself. The worst that can befall is but to die, and honorable
death have thine own way, then tis a mad endeavor. Yet to thy
lovers, thou art dear as ever excellent sunbeam of all that ever dawn upon
our seven gated TheBus the brightest ray, Oh aye, a golden day,
How fair thy light o'er dirke is fountain shone Speeding upon their headlong homeward course.
Far quicker than they came, the Argave force putting to flight. The
Argent sets the host, which Kutchum's white against our land. The proud invader
came to vindicate felt Polyniche exclaim, like to an eagle, swooping low on
Pinion's white, dost new fall snow, with clanging scream a horse dey plume
his crest. The aspiring lord of Argus onward crest, hovering around our city
wall sea, waits his spearmen raven at our seven gates. But e'er torch
our crown of tow'rs could burn, e'er they had tasted of our blood.
They turn'd forc'd by the dragon in their rear. The dim of arispanic struck
They here for sev so hate. The raggart's boast beheld that gold bespangl'd host
as at the gold. The pain they uprais'd. He struck them with his
fault light'ning blaze to earth. He from earth, rebounding down, he crash'd
the firebrand from his impious hand was dash'd as like a backic rev'ler on.
He came out, breathing hate and flame, and totter'd elsewhere in the field.
Here there great area like a war horse wheel' beneath his car down thrust
our foemen the dust seven captains at our seven gates thunder'd for each a champion
waits, each left behind his armor bride trophy for Seve's who turns the fight
save two alone, that ill star'd pair one mother to one father bear who
lance in rest, one gainst the other drave and both perish'd rather slain by
brother. Now victory to theobus returns again and smiles upon her chariots circl'd.
Plain. Now let feast and festal should memories of war blot out. Let
us to the temple's throng, dance and sing the live night long God of
TheBus, Lead thou the round Bacchus, shaker of the ground. Let us
end our revels here, low cree, our new lord ros ne'er crown.
By this strange chance, our King, what I'm marvel pondering why the summons
wherever call us his elder's one, and all beating us with him debate on
some grave concern of state, Enter creon, elders. The gods have writed
once again, our storm tossed ship of state now safe in port. But
you, by special summons I conven'd as my most trusted counselors, first because
I knew you loyal to lay us of old again when Oedipus restored our state,
both while he ruled and when his rule was o'er ye still were constant
to the royal line. Now that his two sons perish'd in one day,
brother by brother, murderously slain by right of kinship to the prince's dead,
I claim and hold the throne and sovereignty. Yet tis no easy matter to
discern the temper of a man his mind and will till he be prov'd by
exercise of power. And in my case, if one who reigns supreme swerve
from the highest policy tongue tied by fear of consequence that man I hold,
and ever held, the basest of the base. And I condemn the man
who sets his friend before his country. For myself I call to witness Zeus,
whose eyes are everywhere. If I perceive some mischievous design to sap the
State, I will not hold my tongue, nor would I reckon as my
private friend a public foe. Well knowing that the State is the good ship
that holds our fortunes, all farewell to friendship if she suffers wreck. Such
is the policy which I seek to serve the Commons, And conformably I have
proclaimed an edict as concerns the sons of Oedipus Eteocles, who, in his
country's battle fought and fell the foremost champion. Duly bury him with all observances
and ceremonies that are the gurden of the heroic dead. But for the miscreant
exile, who returned, minded in flames and ashes, to blot out his
father's city and his father's gods, and glut his vengeance with his kinsman's blood,
or drag them captive at his chariot wheels. For Polyneses tis ordained that
none shall give him burial or make mourn for him, but leave his corpse
unburied, to be meet for dogs and carrion crows a ghastly sight. So
am I purposed. Never by my will shall miscreants take precedence of true men,
But all good patriots, alive or dead, shall be by me preferr'd
and honor'd son of men northsheps. Thus thou waste to deal with him who
loathe and him who loved our state. Thy word is law. Thou can'st
dispose of us the living, as thou wast as of the dead. See,
then ye execute what I ared in on younger shoulders, laydst grievous charge.
Fear not I have posted guards to watch the corpse. But further duty
wouldst thou lay on us not to connive at disobedience. No man is mad
enough to court his death. The penalty is death. Yet hope of gain
hath lur'd men to their ruin. Oftentimes enter guard. My Lord, I
will not make pretense to pant and puff some light footed messenger. In sooth.
My soul beneath its pack of thought, made many a halt and turn'd
and turn'd again for conscience, pli'd her spur and curb thy turns. Why
hurry headlong to thy feet? Poor fool? She whisper'd. Then again,
if creon learn this from another, thou wilt rue it worse. Thus leisurely
I hasten'd on my road. Much thought extends the furlong to a league.
But in the end the forward voice prevail'd. To face thee. I will
speak, though I say nothing for plucking courage from despair methought. Let the
worst hap thou canst but meet thy feet? What is thy news? Why
this despondency? Let me premise a word about myself. I neither did the
deed, nor saw it done? Nor were it just that I should come
to harm. Thou art good at parry, and canst fancy about some matter
of grave import? Has this plain? The bearer of dread tidings needs must
quake, Then, Sirra, should thy bolt and get thee garmn Well it
must out. The corpse is buried. Some one e'en now besprinkl'd it with
thirsty dust, perform'd the proper ritual, and was gone. What sayest thou
who hast dared to do this thing, I cannot tell, for there was
ne'er a trace, a pique or matick, hard unbroken ground, without a
scratch or rut of chariot wheels, no sign that human hands had been at
work. When the first century of the morning watch'd gave the alarm, we
all were terror stricken. The corpse had vanish'd, not inter'd in earth,
but strewn with dust, as if by one who sought to avert the course
that haunts the unburied dead of hound or ravening jackal. Not a sign.
Thereat rose an angry war of words, guard railed, guard, and blurs
were like to end it. For none was there to part us, each
in turn suspected, but the guilt brought home to none. From lack of
evidence. We challeng'd each the ordeal or to handle red hot iron or pass'd
through fire, affirming on our oath our innocence. We neither did the deed
ourselves, nor know who did or compass'd it. Our quest was at a
standstill when one spake and bow'd us all to earth thy quivering reeds. For
there is no gain seeing him or way'd to escape perdition. Ye are bound
to tell the king, Ye cannot hide it, so he speak, and
he convinced us all so lots were cast, and I, unlucky scape good
grew the prize. So here I am unwilling and withal unwelcome. No man
cares to he who knews I had mischevings from the first, my leech of
something more than natural at work. Oh, cease you vex me with your
babblement. I am like to think you dote in your old age? Is
it not arrant folly to pretend that gods would have a thought for this dead
man? Did they forsooth award him special grace? And as some benefactor,
bury him who came to fire? There hallowed sanctuaries to sack their shrines,
to desolate their land and scout their ordinances. Or perchance the gods bestow their
favors on the bad. No. No, I have long noted malcontents who
wagged their heads and kicked against the yoke, misliking these my orders and my
rule. Tis they I warrant who suborned my guards by bribes of evil's current
upon earth. The worst is money. Money tis that sack cities and drives
men forth from hearth and home. Warps and seduce's native innocence and breeds a
habit of dishonesty. But they who sold themselves shall find their greed outshot the
mark, and rue it soon or late. Yea as I still revere the
dread of Zeus, by Zeus, I swear, except ye find and bring
before my presence here the very man who carried out this lawless burial death for
your punishment, shall not suffice hanged on a cross alive. Ye first shall
make confession of this outrage. This will teach you what practices are like to
serve your turn. There are some villainies that bring no gain. For by
dishonesty the few may thrive, the many come to ruin and disgrace. May
I not speak? Or must I turn and go without a word? Begone?
Canst thou not see that e'en this question me? Where my lord?
Is it? Thy ears that suffer? Or thy heart? Why seek to
probe and find the seat of pain? I go, thine ears, this
miscreant thy mind? What an invaterate babbler? Get thee gone babler perchance,
but innocent of the crime twice guilty having sold thy soul for gain? Alas
how sad and reason is reason wrong? Go quibble with thy reason. If
thou fail'st to find these malefactors, thou shalt own the wages of ill,
got and gains is death. Exit creon. I pray he may be found,
But court or not, and fortune must determine that thou never shalt see
me here returning. That is sure. For pastal hope or thought I have
escap'd, and for my safety. O'er the gods, much thanks, Exit
God. Many wonders there bee, but not more wondrous than thine, and
o'er the surging sea, Wi, the wid'ning south Windwan through the foam of
the firth man makes his perilous way, and the eldest of deed is Earth
that knows not toil nor decay. Ever, he furrows and scores as his
team year in year out, with breed of the yok'd horse, the plowshare
turneth about, the light witted birds of the air, the beasts of the
world, and the wood he traps with his woven snare, and the broad
of the briny flood. Master of cunning he, the savage bull, and
the heart who roams the mountain free are tain'd by his infinite art, and
the shaggy rough man steed is broken to bear the brit speech and the windswift
speed of counsel, and see be quit. He hath learn'd for himself all
these, and the arrowy reign to fly, and the nipping airs that freeze
neath the open winter sky. He hath provision for all felt plague. He
hath learn'd to endure safe whatever may befall. Yet for death he hath found
no cure passing the wilest flight. Thought are the cunning and skill that guide
man now to the light, but now to counsels of ill. If he
honors the laws of the land and reveres the gods of the state proudly,
his city shall stand. But a cityless outcast I rate, who so bold
in his pride from the path of right, doth depart. Never may I
sit by his side, or share the thoughts of his heart. What strange
vision meets my eye, feel'st me with a wild surprise. Sure I know
her? Sure t is she the maid antigony, hapless child of hapless sire.
Didst thou recklessly conspire madly brave the King's decree? Therefore are they hailing
thee enterguard, bringing antigony. Here is the culprit taken in the act of
giving em burial. But where's the king? There? From the palace he
returns in time, intercreon, Why is my presence timely? What has chanced?
No man my lord should make avow? For if he ever swears he
will not do a thing is afterthoughts belie his first resolve. When from the
hail storm of thy threats I fled, I swear thou wouldst not see me
here again. But the wild rapture of a glad surprise intoxicates, And so
I'm herefore sworn, and hears my prisoner caught in a very act decking the
grave. No lottery this time. This prize is mine by right of treasure
trove. So take her, judge her, rack her if thou wilt.
She's thine, my liege. But I may rightly claim hence to depart well,
quit of all these ills. Say how didst thou arrest the maid?
And where burying the man? There's nothing more to tell. Hast thou thy
wits are, knowest thou what thou say'st I saw this woman burying the corpse
against thy orders is that clear and plain? But how was she surpriz'd and
caught in the act it happen'd. Thus, no sooner had we come driv'n
from thy presence by those awful threats, than straight we swept away our trace
of dust and bard the clammy body. Then we sat high on the ridge
to windward of the stench, while each man kept his fellow alert and rat'd
rounde the sluggard if he chanc'd to nap. So all night long we watch'd
until a sun stood high in heaven, and his blazing beams smote us a
sudden whirlwind. Then uprais'd a cloud of dust that blotted out the sky,
and swept the plain, and strip'd the woodland's bare, and shook'd the firmament.
We clos'd our eyes and wait'd till a heav'n set plague should pass.
At last it ceas'd, and lo there stood this maid a piercing cry.
She utter'd, sad and shrill, as when the mother bird beholds her nest
robb'd of its nestings. Ev'n. So the maid wail'd as she saw the
body stripp'd and bare, and curs'd the ruftins who had done this deed.
Anon, She gather'd handfuls of dry dust, then, holding high a well
wrought brazen earn'd thrice on the dead. She pour'd a lust' stream. We
at the sight swooped down on her and seized our quarry. Undismayed, she
stood, and when we text her with the former crime and this, she
discerned nothing. I was glad and grieved for tis most sweet escape, oneself
scot free, and yet to bring disaster to a friend his grievous take it
all in all, I deemed the man's first duty is to serve himself.
Speak girl, with head bent low and downcast eyes. Dost thou plead guilty
or deny the deed? Guilty? I did it. I deny it.
Not to guard Sarah begone? Whither thou wilt? And thank thy luck that
thou hast escaped a heavy charge to antigony. Now answer this plain question,
yes? Or now wast thou acquainted with the interdict? I knew, all
knew. How should I fail to know? And yet wert bold enough to
break the law? Yea, For these laws were not ordained of Zeus,
And she who sits enthroned with gods below. Justice enacted not these human laws.
Nor did I deem that thou, a mortal man, couldst by a
breath an null and override the immutable, unwritten laws of heaven. They were
not born to day nor yesterday. They die not, and none knoweth whence
they sprang. I was not like who feared no mortals frown to disobey these
laws and so provoke the wrath of heaven. I knew that I must die
ean hatst thou not proclaimed it. And if death is thereby hastened, I
shall count it gain, for death is gained to him whose life, like
mine, is full of misery. Thus my lot appears not sad but blissful.
For had I endured to leave my mother's son unburied there, I should
have grieved with reason, but not now. And if in this thou judgest
me a fool, bethinks the judge of follies, not a quit. A
stubborn daughter of a stubborn sire, this even stout maiden geeks against the creaks,
Well let her know. The stubbornest of wills are soonest, bended as
the hardest iron or heated in the fire. To brittleness, flies soonest into
fragments, shivered through a snaffle, curbs the fieriest steed, And he who,
in subjection lives must needs be meek. But this proud girl, in
insolence, well schooled, first overstepped the established law, and then a second
and worse act of insolence. She boasts and glories in her wickedness. Now
if she thus can float authority unpunished, I am woman, she the man.
But though she be my sister's child, or nearer of kin than all
who worship it my hearth, nor she, nor yet her sister, shall
escape the utmost penalty. For both thy hold as arch conspirators of equal guilt,
bring forth the older. Even now I saw her within the palace,
frenzied and distraught, the workings of the mind, discover oft dark deeds in
darkness schemed before the act. More hateful still the miscreant who seeks, when
caught, to make a virtue of a crime, wouldst thou do more than
slay thy prisoner? Not I? Thy life is mine, and that's enough.
Why dally then? To me? No word of thine is pleasant?
God forbid it'err should please, Nor am I more acceptable to thee.
And yet how otherwise had I achieved a name so glorious as by burying a
brother? So my townsmen all would say, were they not gagged by terror,
manifold King's prerogative, and not the least that all his acts and all
his words are law. Of all these thebans none so deems, But thou
these think as I, but bait their breath to thee. Hast thou no
shame to differ from all these? To reverence kith and kin can bring no
shame? Was his dead foeman not thy kinsman? Too? One? Mother
bear them and the self same, sire? Why cast a slur on one
by honoring one? A dead man will not bear thee out In this?
Surely, if good and evil fair alive, the slain man was no villain,
but a brother, the patriot perished by the outlaw's brand nathless the realms
below these rights require not that the base should fare as do the brave,
who knows if this world's crimes are virtues. There not even death can make
a foe a friend. My nature is for mutual love, not hate.
Die then and love the dead. If thou must, no woman shall be
the master while I live. Enter is many low from halt the palace gate,
weeping o'er her sister's fate comes ismena. See her brow one serene beclouded.
Now see her beauteous face overspread with a flash of angry red woman who
like a viper unperceived? Didst harbor in my house and drain my blood?
Two plagues thy nurtured blindly, so it proved to sap my throne. Say
didst thou too abet this crime? Or dost abjure all privity? I did
the deed, if she will have it so? And with my sister claim
to share the guilt that were unjust. Thou wouldst not act with me at
first, and I refused thy partnership. But now thy bark is stranded.
I am bold to claim my share as partner in the loss who did the
deed? The underworld knows well a friend in word is never friend of mine.
Oh, sister, scorn me not, but let me share thy work
of piety, and with thee die claim not a work in which thou hadst
no hand? One death sufficeth, wherefore shouldst thou die? What would life
profit me? Bereft of thee. Ask Creon, he's thy kinsman and best
friend. Why taunt me? Find'st thou pleasure in these gibes tis a sad
mockery. If indeed I mock, Oh say if I can help thee even
now, no save thyself. I grudge not thy escape is een this boon
denied to share thy lot yea, for thou chosed'st life and I to die.
Thou canst not say that I did not protest well. Some approved thy
wisdom, others mine. But now we stand convicted both alike fear not thou
livest I died long ago, then when I gave my life to save the
dead. Both maids, methinks, are crazed. One suddenly has lost her
wits, the other was born mad. Yea, So it falls, sire,
when misfortune comes. The wisest even lose their mother wit. If faith
thy wit forsook thee. When thou midst thy choice with evil doers to do
ill? What life for me without my sister? Here? Say not thy
sister, here thy sister's dead. What wilt thou slay thy own son's plighted
bride? Aye? Let him raise seed from other fields? No new espousal
can be like the old the plague on trolls who court and woo our sons.
O haymon, how thy sire dishonors thee, A plague on thee,
and thy accursed bride. What wait thou robe thine own son of his bride?
Tis death that bars this marriage, not his sire, so a death
warrant. It would seem his seed by you, as first by me.
Off with them guards, and keep them close henceforward, Let them learn to
live as women use, not roam at large, freeing. The bravest spirits
run away when they perceive death pressing on life's keels. Thrice bless'd are they
who never taste it pain. If once the curse of heav'n attained the race,
the infection lingers on and speeds apace, age after age, and each
the cup must drain. So when itesim blasts from thrak, a downtour sweep
o'er the blackening main and world to land from ocean's cavernous depth, his o's
and sand below on below thunders on the shore on the lava, siday I
see descending woe upon woe. From days of old sun God laid on the
race, A malison and his rod scourdious, each age with sorrows never ending.
The light that dawn'd upon its last bon sun is vanish, and the
bloody axe of fate has felt the goodly tree that blossom'd l'ate o erippus by
reckless pride, undone thy might o sev's what mortal pow'r can quell. Not
sleep that lays all else beneath its spell, nor moons that never tire,
untouch'd by time thron'd in the dazzling light that crown's olympus hight, Thou reignest
king, omnipotent, sublime, past present, and to be all bow to
thy decree. All that exceeds the mean by fate is punish'd. Love or
hate. Hope flits about, never wearying wings proffit to sum to sunlight.
Love's ship brings, but no man knoweth our gifts may turn tillneath his feet.
The treat'er's ashes spurn sure t us A sage inspir'd that spake this word.
If ye vi good appear to any, Fate is ne'er and brief the
spite from her flaming sword either comes in angry mood, Haimon, laidest of
thy brood? Is it for his bride, he scream'd, or her marriage
bed deceiv'd? Doth hee make is mourn for thee made forlorn antiguony enter him
on soon? Shall we know better than see or can tell learning my fix'd
decree anent thy bride, Thou mean'st not son too, breathe against thy sire
know'st not. Whate'er we do is done in love, Oh father, I
am thine, and I will take thy wisdom as the helm to steer withal.
Therefore, no wedlock shall by me be held more precious than thy loving,
well spoken, So right minded sons should feel in all deferring to a
father's will, for tis the hope of parents. They may rear a brood
of sons submissive, keen to avenge their father's wrongs and count his friends their
own. But who begets unprofitable sons, he verily breeds trouble for himself and
for his foes. Much laughter, Son be warned, and let no woman
fool away thy wits ill fares. The husband mated with a shrew and her
embraces very soon wax cold. For what can wound so surely to the quick
as a false friend? So spew and cast her off. Bid her go
find a husband with the dead. For since I caught her openly rebelling,
of all my subjects, the one malcontent, I will not prove a her
to the state. She surely dies. Go let her if she will appeal
to Zeus, the god of Kindred. For if thus I nurse rebellion in
my house, shall not I foster mutiny without? For whoso rules his household
worthily will prove in civic matters no less wise, But he who overbears the
laws and thinks to overrule his rulers, such a one I never will allow.
Whomever the state appoints must be obeyed in everything but small and great,
just and unjust. Alike, I warrant such a one, in either case
would shine as king or subject. Such a man would, in the storm
of battle, stand his ground a comrade, leal and true. But anarchy,
what evils are not wrought by anarchy? She ruins states and overthrows the
home. She dissipates and roots the embattled host, while discipline preserves the ordered
ranks. Therefore we must maintain authority and yield no title to a woman's will.
Better, if needs be, men should cast us out than hear it
said a woman proved his match to me. Unless old age have dulled wits,
Thy words appear both reasonable and wise. Father, the gods implant in
mortal men reason, the choicest gift bestowed by Heaven. Tis not for me
to say thou errest, Nor would I arraign thy wisdom if I could.
And yet wise thoughts may come to other men, and as thy son,
it falls to me to mark the act, the words, the comments of
the crowd. The commons stand in terror of thy frown, and dare not
utter aught that might offend. But I can overhear their muttered plaints. Know
how the people mourn. This maiden oomed for noblest deeds, to die the
worst of deaths. When her own brother slain in battle, lay unsepulchred.
She suffered not his corpse to lie for carrion birds and dogs tom all should
not her name, they cry be writ in gold, Such the low murmurings
that reach my ear, Oh Father, nothing is by me more prized than
thy well being. For what higher good can children covet than their sire's fair
fame, as fathers too take pride in glorious sons. Therefore my father,
cling not to one mood, and deemed not thou art right, all others
wrong. For whoso thinks that wisdom dwells with him, that he alone can
speak or think aright, such oracles are empty breath. When tried. The
wisest man will let himself be swayed by others wisdom, and relax in time.
See how the trees beside a stream in flood save if they yield to
force, each spray unharm'd. But by resisting parish root and branch. The
mariner, who keeps his mainsheet taught, and will not slacken in the gale,
is like to sail with thwarts reversed. Keel uppermost, relent then,
and repent thee of thy wrath. For if one young in years may claim
some sense, I'll say tis best of all to be endowed with absolute wisdom.
But if that's denied, and nature takes not readily that ply next wise
is he who lists to sage advice. If he says aught in season,
heed him king to hamon he thou thy side too, Both have spoken well,
what would you have us at our age be school'd lessened in prudence by
a beardless boy. I plead for justice, father, nothing more. Weigh
me upon my merit, not my years, strange merit. This to sanction
lawlessness for evildoers, I would urge, no, plea, is not this
made an arrant lawbreaker? The thebe and commons with one voice, saying,
no, what shall the mob dictate my policy?'tist? Thou methinks,
who speakest like a boy? Am I to rule for others or myself?
A state for one man is no state at all. The state is his
who rules it. So tis held as monarch of a desert. Thou wouldst
shine this boy, methinks, maintains the woman's cause. If thou be'st woman,
Yes, my thoughts for thee, oh reprobate wouldst wrangle with thy,
sire, because I see THEE wrongfully perverse, and am I wrong? If
I maintain my rights? Talk not of rights? Thou spurtst the dew of
heaven O heart corrupt a woman's minion, Thou slave to dishonor thou wilt never
find me Thy speech at least was all a plea for her and Thee and
me, and for the gods below living the mide shall never be thy bride,
So she shall die, but one will die with her. Hast come
to such a pass as threatened me? What threat is this? Vain counsels
to reprove vain fool to instruct thy betters. Thou shalt rue it wert not
my father, I had said, Thou erst play not the spaniel. Thou
a woman's slave. When thou'st speak, must no man make reply. This
passes bounds by heaven. Thou shalt not rate and jeer and float me with
impunity, off with the hateful thing. That she may die at once beside
her bridegroom in his sight, Think not that in my sight the maid shall
die, or by my side. Never shalt thou again behold my face here.
Atter go consort with friends who like a madman for their mate. Exit
hamon end of part one.