Poured three libations, honouring the dead. 
We, when we saw, ran in, and straightway seized
Our quarry, nought dismayed, and charged her with
The former crime and this.  And she denied
Nothing;—­to my delight, and to my grief. 
One’s self to escape disaster is great joy;
Yet to have drawn a friend into distress
Is painful.  But mine own security
To me is of more value than aught else.

CR.  Thou, with thine eyes down-fastened to the earth! 
Dost thou confess to have done this, or deny it?

ANT.  I deny nothing.  I avow the deed.

CR. (to Watchman). 
Thou may’st betake thyself whither thou wilt,
Acquitted of the grievous charge, and free.
(to ANTIGONE)
And thou,—­no prating talk, but briefly tell,
Knew’st thou our edict that forbade this thing?

ANT.  I could not fail to know.  You made it plain.

CR.  How durst thou then transgress the published law?

ANT.  I heard it not from Heaven, nor came it forth
From Justice, where she reigns with Gods below. 
They too have published to mankind a law. 
Nor thought I thy commandment of such might
That one who is mortal thus could overbear
The infallible, unwritten laws of Heaven. 
Not now or yesterday they have their being,
But everlastingly, and none can tell
The hour that saw their birth.  I would not, I,
For any terror of a man’s resolve,
Incur the God-inflicted penalty
Of doing them wrong.  That death would come, I knew
Without thine edict;—­if before the time,
I count it gain.  Who does not gain by death,
That lives, as I do, amid boundless woe? 
Slight is the sorrow of such doom to me. 
But had I suffered my own mother’s child,
Fallen in blood, to be without a grave,
That were indeed a sorrow.  This is none. 
And if thou deem’st me foolish for my deed,
I am foolish in the judgement of a fool.

CH.  Fierce shows the maiden’s vein from her fierce sire;
Calamity doth not subdue her will.

CR.  Ay, but the stubborn spirit first doth fall. 
Oft ye shall see the strongest bar of steel,
That fire hath hardened to extremity,
Shattered to pieces.  A small bit controls
The fiery steed.  Pride may not be endured
In one whose life is subject to command. 
This maiden hath been conversant with crime
Since first she trampled on the public law;
And now she adds to crime this insolence,
To laugh at her offence, and glory in it. 
Truly, if she that hath usurped this power
Shall rest unpunished, she then is a man,
And I am none.  Be she my sister’s child,
Or of yet nearer blood to me than all
That take protection from my hearth, the pair
Shall not escape the worst of deaths.  For know,
I count the younger of the twain no less
Copartner in this plotted funeral: 
And now I bid you call her.  Late I saw her
Within the house, beyond herself, and frantic. 
—­Full oft when one is darkly scheming wrong,
The disturbed spirit hath betrayed itself
Before the act it hides.—­But not less hateful
Seems it to me, when one that hath been caught
In wickedness would give it a brave show.