Oh great Creon, what a battle it has been that I, the
Chorus, have witnessed today. The traitor Polynices rose against our city, but
was struck down by his own brother’s sword. And now, “You have given your
judgment for the friend and for the enemy. As for those that are dead, so for
us who remain, your will is law” (132). You are right to condemn Antigone. She
buried Polynices despite your edict to the contrary, and defying you in such a
way is unacceptable. I am entirely devoted to my lord, for you are king indeed,
and what you say is the law of the land. You merely seek to protect our fair
Thebes as you see fit, and if you desire for such rebellion to be punished, I
respect your authority. Poor Antigone had no right. That girl “shows her father’s
stubborn spirit: foolish not to give way when everything’s against her” (139).
My lord, to this disobedience you cannot turn a blind eye.
Oh,
but what is this? Now thy son Haemon appears, declaring that the people of
Thebes pity Antigone. They consider it most unjust for her to die for such an
honourable action as providing her brother with a proper burial, just as the
gods have declared it. Now I am conflicted, for “There is something to be said,
my lord, for his point of view and for yours as well; there is much to be said
on both sides” (145). Oh supreme gods of Olympus, I do hold thy timeless will
in high regard. Indeed, “For what presumption of man can match thy power, O
Zeus, that art not subject to sleep or time or age” (142). Who are we, as mere
human beings, to contradict a tradition from authority such as that? Though I have
such great admiration for our dear king, can I really condone punishing young
Antigone for simply doing what she considered honourable and just? I look at
her, and it “is a sight beyond all bearing, at which my eyes cannot but weep”
(148). Oh Creon, perhaps the words of Haemon should not be ignored. The law of
the eternal god’s is higher than your law, is it not? Surely resisting the gods
is a foolish act to commit, and is not beyond repercussions.
Truly,
now the prophecy of Teiresius has confirmed our thinking. He has spoken, and
our lord is to be punished for his pride with the deaths of his beloved wife
and son. At this time, “If you would be advised, my good lord Creon... Release
the woman from her rocky prison. Set up a tomb for him that lies unburied”
(155). We were wrong to think anything profitable would come from ignoring the
gods. Far greater is their wisdom, surpassing anything that we could ever know.
I am so sorry, dear Creon, but “Alas, too late you have seen the truth” (160). I
believe now a great lesson has been learned by all because of the pride of our
lord, and what a tragedy it has been.
