Antigone

A One-Act Version Of Sophocles’ Tragedy

By
Stewart Boston
 Antigone
Copyright 2017 by Stewart Boston

Characters
Creon - King of Thebes
Antigone - Creon’s niece
Ismene - Antigone’s sister
Haemon - Creon’s son, betrothed to Antigone
Teiresias - a blind prophet
Counsellor 1 & 2
Guard - a non-speaking role

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 Antigone
(Outside Creon’s palace in Ancient Thebes. Early morning, Antigone enters Upstage Left from
Creon’s palace and waits. Ismene enters Upstage Left, running.)
Ismene: Antigone, why must we talk outside at dawn like two conspirators?
Antigone: Because we are, or should be.
Ismene: Why talk in riddles at such a time? All’s clear and open. The Argive enemy has been
defeated and Thebes will now be safe and secure under our good uncle, Creon.
Antigone: And our brothers, Ismene?
Ismene: Our brothers met the death they sought. I grieve for them, as you do, but, brothers or
no, they brought grief to Thebes. Had they not both died fighting against each other in battles, this
war would have dragged on interminably.
Antigone: Then, you haven’t heard our good uncle’s decree?
Ismene: Only his command to repair the ravages of war and cultivate the arts of peace in order
and security, and that’s the only decree that matters.
Antigone: Then you haven’t heard. Creon has decreed that our brother, Eteocles, who defended
Thebes against the Argive host, should receive decent burial…
Ismene: Antigone, this is normal; burial is normal…
Antigone: Listen, our other brother, because he led the Argive army against Thebes, is to lie
unburied as an example to traitors. Polynices is to be abandoned, just so much base carrion to glut
vultures.
Ismene: This is harsh, Antigone, but what have we to do with royal decrees? Only foolish men
argue against a king’s orders. In mere women, it would be unseemly and disgraceful.
Antigone: Unseemly is it to uphold the laws of the gods who command the decent burial of all
men, friend and foe? Is it merely harsh to leave our brother’s body rotting on the plain, a grisly
meal for dogs, while his soul is denied the scant comforts of the dead and haunts us for this
sacrilege?
Ismene: But a decree, Antigone, is the law. We have no cause to criticize the king’s law
openly.
Antigone: The law of the gods is above the whims of petty tyrants, I defy his law.
Ismene: Grieve it, if you must, in private, but do not be so wild as to voice your opposition
openly. We cannot risk his royal displeasure, being so much in his power.
Antigone: I will not voice my opposition, Ismene; I will act on it.
Ismene: Act on it?
Antigone: Our brother’s spirit must not be condemned to wander throughout all eternity, nor
must the gods be cheated of their due. The lowliest enemy is buried on the field of battle. Only
barbarians or men who have no reverence for gods are vile enough to leave a dead man’s corpse to
rot in the sun or have his bones picked clean by scavengers. My meeting with you was to plan our
joint course of action, how to bury our brother’s guarded body.
Ismene: Oh, Antigone, just imagine what the penalty might be…
Antigone: No need to imagine, sister, Creon has proclaimed it. Any who dare attempt to bury
Polynices are to be stoned to death.
Ismene: For the love of the gods, do not be so rash…
Antigone: For the love of the gods and for the love of a sister for her brother, I must be so rash,
as you say. I’d hoped we might have done this together, two sisters jointly obeying the gods in
reverence for a dear brother.
Ismene: Antigone, let us think…
Antigone: There is no time to think, the noonday sun will not make Polynices the sweeter. The
guards have no instructions to protect the corpse from birds and beasts. Are you with me or do I go
alone?

© 2017 by Stewart Boston Page 2 www.lazybeescripts.co.uk

Ismene: Your piety I must admire and none grieves for our brother more than I, but can’t you
see that some wishes can be sanely acted on while others lead to grief and death? If there is guilt in
leaving Polynices, then let our Uncle Creon bear it solely. None expects women to act, as you’d
have us act. Girls are not called upon for heroic and dangerous feats, but only for the humble,
domestic virtues.
Antigone: It’s settled then, I go alone.
Ismene: Sister, think of your betrothal to Creon’s son. You say you love Haemon, your
marriage date is set. Is your marriage gift to him to be his bride’s dead body stoned by the ugly
mob? If you have no pity for yourself, think of him.
Antigone: I thought of him all night, tossing and turning through a waking nightmare. Haemon
has had his share of my grief and tears. My love for him remains, but no love should outweigh
either a sister’s duty or the will of the gods. (She takes Ismene’s hands.) Goodbye, Ismene, at
least, preserve my secret from our good uncle, as you style him.
Ismene: I will not betray you. May the gods prosper you in this.
Antigone: Leave me now and occupy them in the palace, lest our joint absence at this early hour
provoke suspicion.
(They embrace. Ismene moves towards the palace entrance, turning back as though trying to
dissuade her sister. Antigone waves her on and Ismene exits into the palace Upstage Left.
Antigone exits Stage Right. Lights dim to indicate the passage of time.)
(Lights up as Creon, Ismene and Counsellor 1 enter from palace Upstage Left.)
Creon: So all has been carried out?
Counsellor 1: All, Majesty. Indeed, the citizens count it Thebes’ chief blessing that your firm
leadership has brought them back to the ways of peace and order.
Creon: And the traitors who sought to aid our nephew and the Argive army?
Counsellor 1: All put to death, mighty Creon, as an example of the law and order you have
established here in place of the late anarchy.
Creon: See to it that Eteocles’ funeral rites are carried out as becomes a prince. As for
Polynices, inform those that guard his body on the plains that they would do well to see that none
perform any rites over his traitor’s corpse, much less attempt a burial…
(Counsellor 2 enters Stage Right running and throws himself down at Creon’s feet.)
Counsellor 2: Majesty.
Creon: Rise, Counsellor, this rushed abasement is unnecessary.
Counsellor 2: (Rising to kneeling position.) Oh, mighty Creon, let me not feel your wrath for being
the bearer of bad news.
Creon: Speak, man, on your feet. Creon is no tyrant or barbarian to treat you as you seem to
fear.
(Ismene shrinks back from the others.)
Counsellor 2: (Standing stooped.) What you most forbade has been done. Polynices’ body has
been covered with dust and sprinkled with wine.
Creon: What, how can this be? Was the body not guarded?
Counsellor 2: Indeed, at all times, mighty Creon, but, just before noon, when the dust devils skip
across the plain twisting and twirling like Asian cavalry on the charge, there came a swirl of dust,
which dwarfed the rest and left a reddish haze wherever it passed. This dusty whirlwind made
straight for Polynices’ corpse and paused there, as though animated and pondering.
Creon: What did the guards at this?
Counsellor 2: Some moved in closer to the body. The stench had kept them at a distance. Others,
forgive me, said it was a judgment for the impiety of his unburied state and that the gods had come
to bury him themselves.
Creon: They will suffer death for this base superstition. The gods do not favour traitors.
Counsellor 2: When the dust cleared, they found the breaker of your royal decree kneeling by
Polynices. She had scooped up dust on him and sprinkled wine over his body.
Creon: She, a woman! Yet man or woman, mad or sane, whoever has flouted my orders will
be stoned to death. A decree is a decree, the law is the law. Where is this lawbreaker, this disturber
of my power?
Counsellor 2: They are bringing her to you, Majesty.

© 2017 by Stewart Boston Page 3 www.lazybeescripts.co.uk

(Counsellor 2 turns and a Guard brings Antigone in. She is dishevelled and in chains, but walks
erect. Creon is outraged. Ismene hides her face in her hands.)
Creon: You, my niece!
Antigone: Polynices’ sister, Creon, who would not see the will of the gods mocked by your base
tyranny.
Counsellor 1: You have broken the law, woman. Have you no shame?
Counsellor 2: She is doubtless mad, Creon.
Creon: Mad or not, she suffers death for breaking my laws and flouting the edicts of Thebes.
Antigone: I recognize no laws, which take precedence over the divine immutable commandments
of Olympian Zeus. I recognize no man-made loyalty stronger than that I owe my brother’s spirit
wandering in unease because of a tyrant’s sacrilege.
Counsellor 1: Silence, woman, know you not you are addressing your kind, your sovereign lord,
who holds your life in his hand? Beg for mercy, assume a maidenly modesty if you have it not.
Antigone: Calm yourself, old man; he has no power over me. I gave myself to death when I
decided to save my brother’s corpse from infamy and disgrace. My brother awaits me and I seek no
better than to join him far from this tyrant’s sway and the grief of petty Thebes.
Creon: So you despise your state? You a woman, though a princess, were never bothered
with the cares of statecraft, never knew responsibility. You think the blessings of the current peace
drop naturally from heaven, unaware that anarchy oft follows bloody warfare, unless firmness
follows the laying down of arms.
Antigone: Though not as foolish as you judge me, I cling to one law only, that of Olympian
Zeus, besides whose eternal edicts yours are but as the passing prattle of village elders.
Creon: Your misplaced piety would have been harmless in a temple priestess tending the holy
flame, but such a role was too far beneath you. You, as a princess, had to take your monarch’s
beard and pull it.
Antigone: The laws of the gods are for all, Creon, priest or layman.
Creon: But not to be twisted as encouragement for lawlessness or to sanctify traitors in a
troubled time.
Counsellor 1: There is a time for piety and a time to look to the safety of the state and the security of
our people.
Counsellor 2: Your actions by any would have been wilful treason to your kind and the rule of law.
In a woman, they are monstrous, beyond former example and belief.
Ismene: (Rushing forward and kneeling before Creon.) Uncle, slay me too, for I was of her
counsel and helped her in the burial of our brother.
Creon: Can this be true, did the madness strike twice?
Antigone: Not so, Creon. Ismene saw the horror of your actions, but lacked the temper to right
them. She has too much respect for man-made laws and too great a sense of her weakness as a mere
girl to oppose them.
Counsellor 2: What, Antigone, are respect for the laws and a true sense of maidenly reserve offences
in your eyes?
Creon: Ismene, get into the palace and stay with Eurydice, our queen, until I summon you to
expiate the folly of this outburst. I know you did not help her; such a monstrous pride to see oneself
as the agent of the gods could not be shared by two in a single generation.
(Ismene looks appealingly at Antigone, who returns her look with a steady, but not unkind gaze.
Ismene then hurries into the palace Upstage Left.)
Creon: So, enough of girlish insolence. Antigone, I will amend my sentence on you, not out
of clemency, but to avoid the scandal attendant on stoning a princess of my royal house. (To
Guard.) Take her to a cave beyond the limits of our holy Thebes and there seal her in with rocks
enough to prevent her escape. Leave some bread and water with her so that the city avoid direct
guilt for her death, as die she will, albeit slowly. (To Antigone.) You will have time, niece, to
ponder your grave disservice to the state in comforting traitors, a fitting occupation for a woman of
my household. As hunger gnaws you, you may ponder how such acts as yours erode the safety of
the blessed peace our arms have just secured.
Antigone: Can none believe in the rightness of my cause? Do the gods let men’s consciences
sleep in the presence of the tyrant?

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Counsellor 1: Impious girl!
Counsellor 2: Do not call our loyalty to the laws of the land in question by your girlish treason.
Counsellor 1: You will have time enough to think of the gods in your lonely cave. You will have
time to see them as they are, the sober upholders of the law.
Counsellor 2: Not as the confederates of misrule and anarchy.
Antigone: Then I am indeed alone.
(Guard leads Antigone Offstage Right.)
Counsellor 1: You show great clemency in sparing her a public stoning.
Counsellor 2: And great strength in refusing to spare your household when the state itself is
threatened.
Counsellor 1: This is kingly wisdom, Creon, such as…
(Haemon runs in from the palace Upstage Left. He wheels round aggressively in front of Creon.)
Haemon: Father, I come to know of you if what I hear is true, that Antigone is arrested by your
authority.
Counsellor 1: That and more, she has…
Haemon: Silence, grey beard. I’d hear it from my father.
Creon: Your father and your king, Haemon.
Haemon: Then it’s true?
Creon: Arrested, tried and sentenced according to my decree. She sought to bury Polynices
and besprinkle his body with ritual wine.
Haemon: Sentenced, are you mad to sacrifice my bride to your laws?
Creon: Your bride, my niece, Thebes’ shame, she is all of these. I have indulged my
clemency and mercy to this extent, however…
Haemon: (Falling to his knees and taking Creon’s hand.) Father, thanks be to the gods. I
knew you could not be as vile as they reported.
Creon: (Impassively) To this extent only, Haemon, that it would be unseemly to have a
public stoning of one of my household, whatever her treason. So, instead, she is to be immured in a
cavern beyond the boundaries of the city.
Counsellor 1: There to live a while on the bread and water generously vouchsafed her until death
claims her for her crimes.
Haemon: (Starting back violently.) You’d starve her to death, is this your clemency? Father,
how can such things be? Have you turned monster since the Argives were defeated? Were there
not enemies enough to glut your lust for blood, but you must sacrifice your kindred and my bride?
Release her at once. This is no time for sticking to the letter of the law, which brings not security,
but blood and horror in its train. I love Antigone, you know this. How can you act this way to
murder her and torture me?
Creon: I would have thought it unnecessary to tell my heir, the next king of Thebes, why the
laws of policy dictate Antigone’s death. There is no security in any state where laws are unenforced
and liable to sudden shifts and changes. Even the most peaceful cities realize that their salvation
lies in reverence paid to law. A city without law, without inexorable justice, is no city but a
barbarian hamlet ripe for dissolution and decay. If this holds true of peaceful settled states, unused
to war’s alarms, how much truer must it be for Thebes, newly emerged from civil strife, invasion
and bloody family feuds? The present times demand two things of him who would be kind; the rule
of law and the crushing of traitors and rebels. Antigone encouraged rebellion by affording honour
to a traitor’s body. At the same time, she defies me to enact the penalty for her rebellion. I have no
choice, I must accept her challenge, Thebes demands it of her king. Our city’s slaughtered sons cry
out to me from their honoured graves. Who would do less than uphold the law is no friend to
Thebes and certainly unfitted for a king. Were you a man and not a strutting boy, you’d see the
wisdom of my action and exclaim against your former love as being untrue to you as she is to
Thebes, your own inheritance.
Haemon: If you were a man, you’d feel as well as posture with your sterile rhetoric. Count me
no more a son of your line. Your statecraft has the smell of death on it. (Exiting Stage Right.) I
go to Antigone.
Counsellor 2: Stay, Prince Haemon.
Creon: Let him go.

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Counsellor 1: Should we not arrest him? He’s wild and disrespectful at the least.
Creon: It is a wildness that will pass. He’ll return to me in time and own himself beguiled by
a girl and a traitor to boot.
(Teiresias enters Stage Right.)
Creon: Welcome, blind Teiresias, we never seem to lack the need of your prophecy and
counsel.
Teiresias: Greetings to you, Creon. Counsel and prophecy I have, but whether acceptable to you
I know not.
Creon: Speak boldly and never say that you have found me deaf to what the gods transmit to
you.
Teiresias: Your land’s corrupted, Creon, and the altars have lost the brightness of their wonted
flame.
Creon: How can this be?
Teiresias: The birds of augury to the sacred courtyards are tearing at each other even to the death
and the altar fires splutter and smoke when the sacrificial offerings are placed on them.
Creon: The cause, prophet?
Teiresias: The birds of augury are glutted with the flesh of Polynices. His unburied corpse
defiles our hearths and altars. The land is unclean and the gods await your purging of it.
Creon: And how should I accomplish this?
Teiresias: First, release the maid who acted at the gods’ behest and buried her brother. Then,
finish the work Antigone attempted. It is unworthy of you to wage war on a corpse.
Creon: Ha, what bribes have prompted this, you greasy fortune-teller? What gold has driven
you here, blind and shuffling, to plead for Haemon’s bride and her traitor brother’s corpse?
Teiresias: No bribes, Creon, only the promptings of the gods, which never before have failed
you.
Creon: Till now, perhaps, but what of Haemon? Has he had discourse with you? Has he
promised you wealth beyond your priestly avarice if you secure his bride’s release?
Teiresias: Not so, Creon. I do not speak with princes or thirst for gold. My discourse is with
gods and such kings as will heed my prophecies.
Creon: Prophecies or idle threats?
Counsellor 1: Hear him, Majesty; his years and piety demand that we do as much.
Creon: Very well, Teiresias, we’ve heard your perjured counsel, now for your prophecy.
Teiresias: I see death in your household, death and sorrow. I see you forced to acquire a bitter
wisdom if you will not heed the wishes of the gods.
Creon: You threaten me with death, do you? Off with you, you shuffling, blind crow. Croak
your omens amongst your aged and dotard friends about the temple porticos. They are not fit for a
king’s counsel.
Teiresias: Some there are that count it wisdom to heed the warnings of the gods, but all are made
to accept their mandates in the end, though the way be bitter and their pride be never so great.
(Teiresias exits. Creon paces, indicating his discomfort with the blind seer’s prophecy.)
Counsellor 1: Majesty.
Creon: Well?
Counsellor 1: While what you say of grasping fortune-tellers and false seers may well be true in
many cases, Teiresias has never been wrong.
Counsellor 2: Nor has he ever shown the least desire for gold or wealth of any kind.
Counsellor 1: His manner, Creon, lacks respect, but he is not corrupt and, as Thebes knows, his
prophecies all have a fatal truth.
Counsellor 2: Of course, a king may brave the certainty of doom when other men would quail…
Counsellor 1: But, if you’d have our counsel in this matter…
Creon: You don’t think he would fabricate a tale of rejected sacrifice and guttering altar flame
to frighten me or unman me in my just resolve?
Counsellor 1: Teiresias never lies about sacred matters.
Counsellor 2: His prophecies all have the certainty of death.
Creon: Very well, your advice?
Counsellor 1: Bury Polynices with all due ceremony.

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Counsellor 2: And release Antigone.
Creon: The gods would make a fool of me, weaken our state. Am I to be king or are we to be
ruled by dreamers and soothsayers?
Counsellor 1: The mockery of Zeus is preferable to his vengeance.
Creon: (Shouting) Then, see it done, bury him!
Counsellor 2: And Antigone?
Creon: Release her!
(Lights to black.)
(Lights half up to suggest night. Flaming torches and a brazier cast flickering shadows. Creon,
seated, is alone. Counsellor 2 enters running, pauses, then moves more slowly towards Creon.)
Counsellor 2: Majesty.
Creon: Is all done as Teiresias says the gods would wish?
Counsellor 2: All and more.
Creon: More?
Counsellor 2: Polynices is buried with all fitting honour, his spirit can rest now.
Creon: And Antigone released from fear of death?
Counsellor 2: Released by death itself, she hanged herself.
Creon: If what Teiresias says be true, the gods will hold me guilty of her death.
Counsellor 2: My lord, not of hers alone. Haemon was with her, dead by his own sword.
Creon: My son is dead? You speak so calmly of it. Haemon dead…
Counsellor 2: It is not calm, Creon, but the numbness of terror. I fear we are not yet free from the
curse of the times. I fear that this is but the beginning of horror.
Creon: I am not free, you mean. (Pause) My son, my son, dead for a girl.
Counsellor 2: It seems they both met death while we were arranging the burial of Polynices.
Counsellor 1: (Entering slowly Stage Right.) My lord.
Counsellor 2: He knows all now.
(Scream from palace. All turn towards palace entrance Upstage Left. Teiresias enters Stage Left.
Ismene enters slowly from Upstage Left.)
Counsellor 1: Ismene, get you in. We all have heard the news. Comfort the queen, who mourns
Haemon. We will stay with your uncle.
Ismene: Queen Eurydice is past comfort or comforting; she is dead. Hearing of her son’s
death, she shut herself in her chamber and cut her throat.
Creon: (Rising and speaking slowly.) Take me to her. (Pause) See in me the broken victim
of the gods’ displeasure and beware of earthly pride, which flouts the divine laws.
(Head bowed, he turns towards the palace Upstage Left. Counsellor 1 supports him as he exits
slowly. All look towards his retreating figure.)
Teiresias: (Pointing at Creon.) There can be no happiness without wisdom, and wisdom lies in
performing the will of the gods. No good ever came from vainglorious power. Even the proudest
man, however strong, is punished in the passing of time.
(Curtain)

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Production Notes
Setting
All action takes place outside Creon’s palace with the entrance to the palace, a painted flat or image
projected on a back screen, behind the performance area. Some indication of the semi-desert conditions
may be presented, but a very simple set is all that is required.

Props
Chains (Offstage)
Staff (Teiresias)
Seat (Onstage)

© 2017 by Stewart Boston Page 8 www.lazybeescripts.co.uk