The liberty which may be stretch'd too far
And bring down ruin on your head at last.
The public good weighs little on his soul,
And Patriotism masks another flame.
I know it, Creon, but abhor a suit,
Which 'twere your wisdom to leave unexpress'd.
I'll do so, Madam; and, beginning now,
Will rid you of my presence. For I see
To pay you my respect but points your scorn:
My son, more happy,-shall supply my room.
The king has summoned me, and I obey.
Hæmon and Polynices,-send for them.
Farewell.
Yes, wicked schemer, both will come, And with united efforts foil your plots.
JOCASTA, ANTIGONE, OLYMPIA.
The traitor! What a height of insolence!
All his presumptuous words will turn to shame.
For soon, if our desires are heard in Heav'n,
Peace will ambition's retribution bring.
But every hour is precious, we must haste
And summon Hæmon and your brother too;
I am prepared to grant them to this end
Whate'er safe conduct they think fit to ask.
And gracious Heav'n, if Justice may give pause
To my misfortunes, then incline to peace
The heart of Polynices; aid my sighs,
Make eloquent my trouble and my tears!
If Heav'n can feel compassion for a flame
As innocent as mine, then bring me back
My Hæmon faithful still, and grant to-day
That with my lover Love himself may come.
What! Will you rob me of the face I love
So soon, when I have suffer'd a whole year
Of absence? Have you call'd me to your side
To snatch away again so sweet a prize?
Shall I so soon, then, cast a brother off,
And let my mother seek the gods alone?
Ought I to shape my duty to your wish,
Think but of love, and care for peace no more?
No duty bids thee thwart my happiness;
They can consult the oracle full well
Without us. Let me rather at your eyes
Question my heart's Divinity what fate
Is mine. Should I be overbold to ask
If their accustom'd sweetness welcome still
The thought of my affection, nor resent
My ardour? Can they pity where they wound?
While cruel absence dragg'd its weary course,
Say, have you wish'd me to be faithful still?
Thought you how Death was threat'ning, far from you,
A lover who should die but at your knees?
Ah! when such beauty penetrates the soul,
When the heart dares to lift its hopes to you,
How sweet to worship charms divinely fair!
What torture when they vanish out of sight!
Each moment's separation seem'd an age;
And I had long since closed my sad career,
Had I not trusted, till I might return,
That absence would to you be proof of love,
And my obedience in your memory dwell
To plead for me while banish'd from your face;
And that each thought of me would make you think,
How great must be the love that thus obeys.
Yes, I knew well that such a faithful soul
Would find the pain of absence hard to bear;
And, if I may my secret thoughts reveal,
The wish would sometimes come that you might feel
Some shade of bitterness, to make the days,
Parted from me, seem longer than before.
But blame me not, for mine own heart was full
Of sorrow, and but wish'd that you might share
Its load, grown yet more heavy since the war
Brought your invading forces on this land.
Ah! with what anguish did I then behold
My dearest on opposing sides array'd!
With countless pangs my heart was torn to see
Loved ones without our walls, loved ones within :
At each assault a thousand terrors clash'd
In conflict, and a thousand deaths I died.
Tis pitiful indeed; but have I done
Aught but as you yourself directed me?
In following Polynices I obey'd
Your wish; nay more, your absolute command.
A friend's devoted heart I pledg'd him then,
Quitted my country, left my father's side,
Thereby incurring his indignant wrath,
And, worst of all, banish'd myself from you.
I bear it all in mind; Hæmon is right,
In serving Polynices, me you serv'd.
Dear was he then to me, and dear to-day,
All that was done for him was done for me.
We loved each other from our tenderest years,
And o'er his heart I held unrivall'd sway;
To please him was my chief delight, to share
His sorrows was the sister's privilege.
O that such pow'r to move him still were mine!
Then would he love the peace for which I yearn;
Our common woe would so be lull'd to rest,
And I should see him, nor would you from me
Be parted.
He abhors this dreadful war;
Yea, I have seen him sigh with grief and rage,
That he has been compell'd to make his way
Thro' bloodshed to regain his father's throne.
Hope that the gods, touch'd by our miseries,
Will soon the rift between the brothers heal;
May Heav'n restore affection to their hearts,
And in their sister's breast keep love alight!
That latter task indeed, ah! doubt it not,
Were easier far than to appease their rage.
Well do I know them both, and am assured
But sometimes Heav'n works marvels past belief.
Their hearts, dear Hæmon, are more hard than mine.
Prince, hear the answer for yourself, then judge: "Ye Thebans, thus doth Fate ordain,
That if ye would from war be freed,
The last hope of the royal seed
With blood outpour'd your land must stain."
How has this offspring of a hapless race
Deserv'd such condemnation, oh, ye gods?
Was not my father's death vengeance enough,
That wrath must follow all our family?
Lady, this sentence is not aim'd at you,
For virtue shelters you from punishment.
The gods can read your innocence of heart.
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