θνητῶν Ἅιδην καταβήσει.
Antigone. Sophocles. ed. Francis Storr. London. 1912.
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Funding provided by The Annenberg CPB/Project.
Table of Contents
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Current edition Experimental
Ἀντιγόνη (Greek) (Sophocles, Volume 1. Storr, Francis, editor. London; New York: William Heinemann Ltd.; The Macmillan Company, 1912.)
Provisional text from uncorrected OCR; expect errors.
Editions (11)
Greek (L. Benloew, 1858) (OCR draft) Experimental (Greek (L. Benloew, 1858)) — 822 focus
Ταντάλου, Σιπύλῳ πρὸς ἄκρῳ,
Greek (A. Boeckh, 1884) (OCR draft) Experimental (Greek (A. Boeckh, 1884)) — 822 focus
ὑψηλὸν ἐς Δίκας βάθρον
Greek (F. H. Bothe, 1806) (OCR draft) Experimental (Greek (F. H. Bothe, 1806)) — 822 focus
ἡμεῖς δὲ βροτοὶ καὶ θνητογενεῖς ·
Greek (Lewis Campbell, 1879) (OCR draft) Experimental (Greek (Lewis Campbell, 1879)) — 822 focus
θνητῶν Ἀΐδην καταβήσει.
Greek (A. Colonna, 1978) (OCR draft) Experimental (Greek (A. Colonna, 1978)) — 822 focus
θνατῶν Ἀἰδαν καταβήσῃ.
Greek (A. Dain, 1955) (OCR draft) Experimental (Greek (A. Dain, 1955)) — 822.mvp-line-815 focus
θνητῶν Ἀΐδην καταβήσῃ.
Greek (R. D. Dawe, 1979) (OCR draft) Experimental (Greek (R. D. Dawe, 1979)) — 822 focus
θνητῶν Ἀίδην καταβήσηι.
Greek (G. Hermann, 1830) (OCR draft) Experimental (Greek (G. Hermann, 1830)) — 822 focus
καί νιν ὄμβρῳ τακομέναν
Greek (R. C. Jebb, 1906) (OCR draft) Experimental (Greek (R. C. Jebb, 1906)) — 822 focus
θνητῶν Ἀΐδην καταβήσει.
Greek (A. C. Pearson, 1924) (OCR draft) Experimental (Greek (A. C. Pearson, 1924)) — 822.mvp-line-813 focus
θνατῶν Ἀΐδην καταβήσῃ.
Greek (K. Reinhardt, 1949) (OCR draft) Experimental (Greek (K. Reinhardt, 1949)) — 822 focus
θνητῶν Ἅιδην καταβήσηι.
Translations (2)
German (J. J. C. Donner, 1875; OCR review) (OCR draft) Experimental (German (J. J. C. Donner, 1875; OCR review)) — 823 focus
Ich hörte, wie Tantalos' Tochter, jene
1
815
Phrygerin, grauenvoll
Einst an Sipylos' Höhen starb:
Gleich des Epheus schlingendem Grün,
Rankt' um sie der sprossende Fels;
Rastlos zehrt der Regen an ihr,
820
Lautet die Sage,
Der Schnee lässet sie niemals,
Und badet unter den thränenden Brau'n
Ewig den Busen ihr:
Also bettet der Tod zur Ruh' auch mich.
825
Ich hörte, wie Tantalos' Tochter, jene
1
815
Phrygerin, grauenvoll
Einst an Sipylos' Höhen starb:
Gleich des Epheus schlingendem Grün,
Rankt' um sie der sprossende Fels;
Rastlos zehrt der Regen an ihr,
820
Lautet die Sage,
Der Schnee lässet sie niemals,
Und badet unter den thränenden Brau'n
Ewig den Busen ihr:
Also bettet der Tod zur Ruh' auch mich.
825
Der Chor.
English (Sir Richard Jebb2, 1904) (OCR draft) Experimental (English (Sir Richard Jebb2, 1904)) — 806-880 focus
Antigone
Citizens of my fatherland, see me setting out on my last journey, looking at my last sunlight,
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
Citizens of my fatherland, see me setting out on my last journey, looking at my last sunlight,
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
Chorus
Then in glory and with praise you depart to that deep place of the dead, neither struck by wasting sickness,
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
Then in glory and with praise you depart to that deep place of the dead, neither struck by wasting sickness,
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
Antigone
I have heard with my own ears how our Phrygian guest, the daughter of Tantalus, perished
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
I have heard with my own ears how our Phrygian guest, the daughter of Tantalus, perished
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
Chorus
Yet she was a goddess, as you know, and the offspring of gods,
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
Yet she was a goddess, as you know, and the offspring of gods,
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
Antigone
Ah, you mock me! In the name of our fathers’ gods,
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
you, at least, will bear me witness how unwept by loved ones, and by what laws I go to the rock-closed prison of my unheard-of tomb! Ah, misery!
845
I have no home among men or with the shades, no home with the living or with the dead.
850
Ah, you mock me! In the name of our fathers’ gods,
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
you, at least, will bear me witness how unwept by loved ones, and by what laws I go to the rock-closed prison of my unheard-of tomb! Ah, misery!
845
I have no home among men or with the shades, no home with the living or with the dead.
850
Chorus
You have rushed headlong to the far limits of daring, and against the high throne of Justice
you have fallen, my daughter, fallen heavily. But in this ordeal you are paying for some paternal crime.
855
You have rushed headlong to the far limits of daring, and against the high throne of Justice
you have fallen, my daughter, fallen heavily. But in this ordeal you are paying for some paternal crime.
855
Antigone
You have touched on my most bitter thought
and moved my ever-renewed pity for my father and for the entire doom ordained for us, the famed house of Labdacus. Oh, the horrors of our mother’s bed! Oh, the slumbers of the wretched mother at the side
860
of her own son, my own father! What manner of parents gave me my miserable being! It is to them that I go like this, accursed and unwed, to share their home.
865
Ah, my brother, the marriage you made was doomed, and by dying you killed me still alive!
870
You have touched on my most bitter thought
and moved my ever-renewed pity for my father and for the entire doom ordained for us, the famed house of Labdacus. Oh, the horrors of our mother’s bed! Oh, the slumbers of the wretched mother at the side
860
of her own son, my own father! What manner of parents gave me my miserable being! It is to them that I go like this, accursed and unwed, to share their home.
865
Ah, my brother, the marriage you made was doomed, and by dying you killed me still alive!
870
Chorus
Your pious action shows a certain reverence, but an offence against power can no way be tolerated by him who has power in his keeping.
Your self-willed disposition is what has destroyed you.
875
Your pious action shows a certain reverence, but an offence against power can no way be tolerated by him who has power in his keeping.
Your self-willed disposition is what has destroyed you.
875
Antigone
Unwept, unfriended, without marriage-song, I am led in misery on this journey that cannot be put off. No longer is it permitted me, unhappy girl,
to look up at this sacred eye of the burning sun. But for my fate no tear is shed, no friend moans in sorrow.
880
Unwept, unfriended, without marriage-song, I am led in misery on this journey that cannot be put off. No longer is it permitted me, unhappy girl,
to look up at this sacred eye of the burning sun. But for my fate no tear is shed, no friend moans in sorrow.
880