Antigone: Scene One
The scene opens with Choragus standing in the spotlight.
Choragus: Look there, it's Creon of Thebes, Menoeceus' song, our new king. Why is he here?
Creon enters and starts addressing the Chorus.
Creon: Why our late ruler, Oedipus, died, your loyalty transferred to his children. They have died in battle against each other. As the next in blood I have succeeded to thrown. Eteocles has died with full honors while Polyneices has not been buried, his body will be left for the birds and scavenging dogs.
Choragus: If that is your will then I will enforce it.
Creon: It is my will and you will enforce it.
Enter Sentry
Sentry: I didn't know whether to come and tell you my self or to tell someone to tell you. I have decided to come and tell you myself thought.
Creon: Get to the point!
Sentry: I didn't do it, I don't who did!
Creon: A cover up no doubt, come on, tell me!
Sentry: It's so bad!
Creon: Out with it!
Sentry: The dead man…Polyneices…
Pause, Sentry fumbles four words, Creon is impatient.
Sentry: He's been buried.
There is a very long pause and Creon gets the look of death on his face and begins to speak in the most deathly tone.
Creon: Who DARES to do this?
Sentry: I don't know! You have to believe me! The ground was dry and it didn't even look like anyone had dug there. There were no tracks in the dust; there wasn't a trace of anything. This morning the corporal pointed it out to us. But the weirdest thing was, the body wasn't fully covered. It was only half covered in dirt so the spirit of Polyneices was at peace. It wasn't me, I swear it!
Choragus: Can it be that the Gods have done it?
Creon: STOP! How can you sit there and blame the Gods?
Sentry: Can I speak?
Creon: No. You make me sick.
Sentry: Are you sure it's me or it's my conscience.
Creon: Lord, He wants to analyze me now.
Sentry: I have said nothing to hurt you.
Creon: You talk too much.
Sentry: Maybe I do, but I haven't done anything.
Creon: You sold your soul for some silver.
Sentry: That's great! Our Highness can't even judge right.
Creon: Your figures of speech may entertain you now, but unless you bring me the man who has done this, it won't be worth it.
Creon exits
Sentry: "Bring me the man!" He says. I'd really like to bring him the man, but I don't know who the man is!
Exit Sentry.
CHORUS:
Numberless are the world's wonders, but none
More wonderful than man; the storm-grey sea
Yields to his prows; the huge crests bear him high;
Year after year, the timeless labor of stallions.
The light-boned birds and beasts that cling to cover,
The lithe fish lighting their reaches of dim water,
All are taken, tamed in the net of his mind;
The lion on the hill, the wild horse windy-maned,
Resign to him; and his blunt yoke had broken
The sultry shoulders of the mountain bulls.
Words also, and thought as rapid as air,
He fashions to his good use; statecraft in his,
And his the skill that deflects the arrows of snow,
The spears of winter rain: from every wind
He had made himself secure - from all but one;
In the late wind of death he cannot stand.
O clear intelligence, force beyond all measure!
O fate of man, working both good and evil!
When the laws are kept, how proudly his city stands!
When the laws are broken, what of his city then?
Never may the anarchic man find rest at my hearth,
Never be it said that my thoughts are his thoughts.