Prevails against thy prayer for Thebe's throne, If ancient Zeus, the eternal lawgiver, Have primal Justice for his counsellor. Begone, renounced and fatherless for me, And take with thee, vilest of villanous men, This imprecation:--Vain be thine attempt In levying war against thy father's race, Frustrate be thy return to Argos' vale: Die foully by a fratricidal hand And foully slay him who hath banished thee! Further, I bid the horror breathing gloom Tartarean, of the vault that holds my sire, To banish thee from that last home: I invoke The Spirits who haunt this ground, and the fierce God Who hath filled you both with this unnatural hate.-- Go now with all this in thine ears, and tell The people of Cadmus and thy firm allies In whom thou trustest, what inheritance Oedipus hath divided to his sons. CH. 'Tis pity for thee, prince, to have come at all; And now we bid thee go the way thou camest. POL. Alas! Vain enterprise, and hope undone! Oh, my poor comrades! To what fatal end I led you forth from Argos, woe is me! I may not tell it you,--no, nor return. In silence I must go to meet my doom. Daughters of this inexorable sire, Since now ye have heard his cruel curse on me, Ah! in Heaven's name, my sisters, do not you Treat me despitefully, but if, one day, Our father's execration is fulfilled And ye shall be restored to Theban ground, Grace me with funeral honours and a tomb! So shall this ample praise which ye receive For filial ministration, in that day Be more than doubled through your care for me. ANT. Brother, I beg thee, listen to my prayer! POL. Dearest Antigone, speak what thou wilt. ANT. Turn back thy host to Argos with all speed, And ruin not thyself and Thebe too. POL. Impossible. If once I shrink for fear, No longer may I lead them to the war. ANT. But why renew thy rage? What benefit Comes to thee from o'erturning thine own land? POL. 'Tis shameful to remain in banishment, And let my brother mock my right of birth. ANT. Then seest thou not how true unto their aim Our father's prophecies of mutual death Against you both are sped? POL. He speaks his wish. 'Tis not for me to yield. ANT. O me, unhappy! But who that hears the deep oracular sound Of his dark words, will dare to follow thee? POL. They will not hear of danger from my mouth. Wise generals tell of vantage, not of bale. ANT. Art thou then so resolved, O brother mine? POL. I am. Retard me not! I must attend To my dark enterprise, blasted and foiled Beforehand by my father's angry curse. But as for you, Heaven prosper all your way, If ye will show this kindness in my death, For nevermore in life shall ye befriend me! Nay, cling to me no longer. Fare ye well. Ye will behold my living form no more. ANT. O misery! POL. Bewail me not. ANT. And who That saw thee hurrying forth to certain death Would not bewail thee, brother? POL. If Fate wills, Why, I must die.