Epeisodion 1
Guard
For often I brought myself to a stop because of my thoughts, and
wheeled round in my path to return. My mind was telling me many things:
Fool, why do you go to where your arrival will mean your punishment?
Idiot, are you dallying again? If Creon learns it from another, must
you not suffer for it?
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So
debating, I made my way unhurriedly, slow, and thus a short road was
made long. At last, however, the view prevailed that I should come
here—to you. Even if my report brings no good, still will I tell
you,
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since I come with a good
grip on one hope, that I can suffer nothing except what is my fate.
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Creon
And what is it that so disheartens you?
Guard
I want to tell you first about myself—I did not do the deed, nor did I
see the doer,
so it would be wrong
that I should come to any harm.
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Creon
Like a bowman you aim well at your target from a distance, and all around
you hedge yourself off well from the deed. It is clear that you have
some unheard-of thing to tell.
Guard
That I do, for terrible news imposes great hesitation.
Creon
Then tell it, will you, and so unburdened go away?
Guard
Well, here it is. The corpse—some
one has just given it burial and disappeared after sprinkling thirsty
dust on the flesh and performing the other rites that piety demands.
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Creon
What are you saying? What man dared do this?
Guard
I do not know. For there was no scar of a pickax to be seen
there,
no earth thrown up by a
mattock. The ground was hard and dry, unbroken, not rolled over by
wheels. The doer was someone who left no trace. When the first
day-watchman showed it to us, a discomforting amazement fell on us
all.
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The dead man was veiled
from us—not shut within a tomb, but a light cover of dust was on him, as
if put there by the hand of one who shunned a curse. And no sign was
visible that any beast of prey or any dog had approached or torn him.
Then evil words flew thick and loud among us,
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guard accusing guard. It would even have come to blows
in the end, nor was there anyone there to prevent it: every man was the
culprit, and no one was plainly guilty, while all disclaimed knowledge
of the act. We were ready to take red-hot iron in our hands,
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to walk through fire and to swear oaths
by the gods that we had neither done the deed, nor shared knowledge of
the planning or the doing. At last, when our investigating got us
nowhere, someone spoke up and made us all bend our faces
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in fear towards the earth. For we did
not know how we could argue with him, nor yet prosper, if we did what he
said. His argument was that the deed must be reported to you and not
hidden. This view prevailed, and so it was that
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the lot doomed miserable me to win this prize. So here
I stand, as unwelcome to you as I am unwilling, I well know. For no man
delights in the bearer of bad news.
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Chorus
My king, my thoughts have long been deliberating whether this deed is
somehow the work of gods?
Creon
Quiet, before your words truly
fill me with rage, so that you not be found at the same time foolish as
well as old. You say what is intolerable when you claim that the gods
have concern for that corpse. Was it in high esteem for his
benefactions
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