Stasimon 3
[Choral 1]
Love, the unconquered in battle, Love, you who descend
upon riches, and watch the night through on a girl’s soft cheek,
Chorus
you roam over
the sea and among the homes of men in the wilds. Neither can any
immortal escape you,
785
nor any man
whose life lasts for a day. He who has known you is driven to
madness.
790
You seize the minds of just men
and drag them to injustice, to their ruin. You it is who have incited
this conflict of men whose flesh and blood are one.
But victory belongs to radiant Desire swelling
from the eyes of the sweet-bedded bride. Desire sits enthroned in power
beside the mighty laws.
795
For in all
this divine Aphrodite plays her irresistible game.
800
[Choral]
But now, witnessing this, I too am
carried beyond the bounds of loyalty. The power fails me to keep back my
streaming tears any longer, when I see Antigone making her way to the
chamber where all are laid to rest,
Chorus
now her bridal chamber.
805
[Choral 1]
Citizens of my fatherland, see me
setting out on my last journey, looking at my last sunlight,
Antigone
and never again. No, Hades who lays all to rest leads me
living to Acheron’s shore,
though I have not had my due portion of the chant that brings the
bride, nor has any hymn been mine
810
for the crowning of marriage. Instead
the lord of Acheron will be my
groom.
815
[Choral]
Then in glory and with praise you
depart to that deep place of the dead, neither struck by wasting
sickness,
Chorus
nor having won the
wages of the sword. No, guided by your own laws and still alive, unlike
any mortal before, you will descend to Hades.
820
[Choral 1]
I have heard with my own ears how
our Phrygian guest, the daughter of Tantalus, perished
Antigone
in so much suffering on steep Sipylus—how, like
clinging ivy, the sprouting stone subdued her. And the rains, as men
tell, do not leave her melting form, nor does the snow,
825
but beneath her weeping lids she dampens her
collar. Most like hers is the god-sent fate that leads me to my
rest.
830
[Choral]
Yet she was a goddess, as you
know, and the offspring of gods,
Chorus
while we are mortals and mortal-born. Still it is a great thing for a
woman who has died to have it said of her that she shared the lot of the
godlike in her life, and afterwards, in death.
835
[Choral 2]
Ah, you mock me! In the name of our fathers’ gods,
Antigone
why do you not
wait to abuse me until after I have gone, and not to my face, O my city,
and you, her wealthy citizens? Ah, spring of Dirce, and you holy ground
of Thebes whose chariots are
many,
840
