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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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CREON Say not thy sister _here_: thy sister's dead. ISMENE What, wilt thou slay thy own son's plighted bride? CREON Aye, let him raise him seed from other fields. ISMENE No new espousal can be like the old. CREON A plague on trulls who court and woo our sons. ANTIGONE O Haemon, how thy sire dishonors thee! CREON A plague on thee and thy accursed bride! CHORUS What, wilt thou rob thine own son of his bride? CREON 'Tis death that bars this marriage, not his sire. CHORUS So her death-warrant, it would seem, is sealed. CREON 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. For e'en the bravest spirits run away When they perceive death pressing on life's heels. CHORUS (Str. 1) Thrice blest are they who never tasted pain! If once the curse of Heaven attaint a race, The infection lingers on and speeds apace, Age after age, and each the cup must drain. |
