Creon: See then ye execute what I ordain.
Chorus: On younger shoulders lay this grievous charge.
Creon: Fear not, I’ve posted guards to watch the corpse.
Chorus: What further duty would’st thou lay on us?
Creon: Not to connive at disobedience.
Chorus: No man is mad enough to court his death.
Creon: The penalty is death: yet hope of gain Hath lured men to their ruin oftentimes.
Enter Guard.
Guard: My lord, I will not make pretence to pant And puff as some light-footed messenger. In sooth my soul beneath its pack of thought Made many a halt and turned and turned again; For conscience plied her spur and curb by turns. “Why hurry headlong to thy fate, poor fool?” She whispered. Then again, “If Creon learn This from another, thou wilt rue it worse.” Thus leisurely I hastened on my road; Much thought extends a furlong to a league. But in the end the forward voice prevailed, To face thee. I will speak though I say nothing. For plucking courage from despair methought, “Let the worst hap, thou canst but meet thy fate.”
Creon: What is thy news? Why this despondency?
Guard: Let me premise a word about myself. I neither did the deed nor saw it done, Nor were it just that I should come to harm.
Creon: Thou art good at parry, and canst fence about Some matter of grave import, as is plain.
Guard: The bearer of dread tidings needs must quake.
Creon: Then, sirrah, shoot thy bolt and get thee gone.
Guard: Well, it must out; the corpse is buried; someone E’en now besprinkled it with thirsty dust, Performed the proper ritual—and was gone.
Creon: What say’st thou? Who hath dared to do this thing?
Guard: I cannot tell, for there was ne’er a trace Of pick or mattock—hard unbroken ground, Without a scratch or rut of chariot wheels, No sign that human hands had been at work. When the first sentry of the morning watch Gave the alarm, we all were terror-stricken. The corpse had vanished, not interred in earth, But strewn with dust, as if by one who sought To avert the curse that haunts the unburied dead:
Of hound or ravening jackal, not a sign. Thereat arose an angry war of words; Guard railed at guard and blows were like to end it, For none was there to part us, each in turn Suspected, but the guilt brought home to none, From lack of evidence. We challenged each The ordeal, or to handle red-hot iron, Or pass through fire, affirming on our oath Our innocence—we neither did the deed
Ourselves, nor know who did or compassed it. Our quest was at a standstill, when one spake And bowed us all to earth like quivering reeds, For there was no gainsaying him nor way To escape perdition: Ye are bound to tell The King, ye cannot hide it; so he spake. And he convinced us all; so lots were cast, And I, unlucky scapegoat, drew the prize. So here I am unwilling and withal
Unwelcome; no man cares to hear ill news.
Chorus: I had misgivings from the first, my liege, Of something more than natural at work.
Creon: O cease, you vex me with your babblement; I am like to think you dote in your old age. Is it not arrant folly to pretend That gods would have a thought for this dead man? Did they forsooth award him special grace, And as some benefactor bury him, Who came to fire their hallowed sanctuaries, To sack their shrines, to desolate their land, And scout their ordinances? Or perchance
The gods bestow their favours on the bad. No! no! I long have noted malcontents, Who wagged their heads, and kicked against the yoke, Misliking these my orders, and my rule. ’Tis they, I warrant, who suborned my guards By bribes. Of evils current upon earth The worst is money. Money ’tis that sacks Cities, and drives men forth from hearth and home; Warps and seduces native innocence,
And breeds a habit of dishonesty. But they who sold themselves shall find their greed Out-shot the mark, and rue it soon or late. Yea, as I still revere the dread of Zeus, By Zeus I swear, except ye find and bring Before my presence here the very man Who carried out this lawless burial, Death for your punishment shall not suffice. Hanged on a cross, alive ye first shall make
Confession of this outrage. This will teach you What practices are like to serve your turn. There are some villainies that bring no gain, For by dishonesty the few may thrive, The many come to ruin and disgrace.