antigone - teiresias

Boreas’ child, a girl who raced with horses across steep hills - child of the gods. But she, too, my child, suffered much from the immortal Fates.

Lord of Thebes, we two have walked a common path, one person’s vision serving both of us. The blind require a guide to find their way.

What news do you have, old Teiresias?

I’ll tell you—and you obey the prophet.

I’ve not rejected your advice before.

That’s the reason why you’ve steered this city on its proper course.

From my experience I can confirm the help you give.

Then know this—your luck in once more on fate’s razor edge.

What? What you’ve just said makes me nervous.

You’ll know—once you hear the tokens of my art. As I was sitting in my ancient place receiving omens from the flights of birds who all come there where I can hear them, I note among those birds an unknown cry—evil, unintelligible, angry screaming.

You’ll know—once you hear the tokens of my art. As I was sitting in my ancient place receiving omens from the flights of birds who all come there where I can hear them, I note among those birds an unknown cry—evil, unintelligible, angry screaming.

I knew that they were tearing at each other with murderous claws. The noisy wings revealed that all too well. I was afraid. So right away up on the blazing altar I set up burnt offerings.

I knew that they were tearing at each other with murderous claws. The noisy wings revealed that all too well. I was afraid. So right away up on the blazing altar I set up burnt offerings.

But Hephaestus failed to shine out from the sacrifice—dark slime poured out onto the embers, oozing from the thighs, which smoked and spat, bile was sprayed high up into the air, and the melting thighs lost all the fat which they’d been wrapped in.

But Hephaestus failed to shine out from the sacrifice—dark slime poured out onto the embers, oozing from the thighs, which smoked and spat, bile was sprayed high up into the air, and the melting thighs lost all the fat which they’d been wrapped in.

The rites had failed—there was no prophecy revealed in them. I learned that from this child, who is my guide, as I guide other men. Our state is sick—your policies have done this.

The rites had failed—there was no prophecy revealed in them. I learned that from this child, who is my guide, as I guide other men. Our state is sick—your policies have done this.

In the city our altars and our hearts have been defiled, all of them, with rotting flesh brought there by birds and dogs from Oedipus’ son.

In the city our altars and our hearts have been defiled, all of them, with rotting flesh brought there by birds and dogs from Oedipus’ son, who lies there miserably dead.

The gods no longer accept our sacrifice, our prayers, our thigh bones burned in fire. No bird will shriek out a clear sign to us, for they have gorged themselves on fat and blood from a man who’s dead.

The gods no longer accept our sacrifice, our prayers, our thigh bones burned in fire. No bird will shriek out a clear sign to us, for they have gorged themselves on fat and blood from a man who’s dead.

Consider this, my son. All men make mistakes—that’s not uncommon. But when they do, they’re no longer foolish or subject to bad luck if they try to fix the evil into which they’ve fallen, once they give up their intransigence.

Consider this, my son. All men make mistakes—that’s not uncommon. But when they do, they’re no longer foolish or subject to bad luck if they try to fix the evil into which they’ve fallen, once they give up their intransigence.

Men who put their stubbornness on show invite accusations of stupidity. Make concessions to the dead—don’t ever stab a man who’s just been killed. What’s they glory in killing a dead person one more time?

Men who put their stubbornness on show invite accusations of stupidity. Make concessions to the dead—don’t ever stab a man who’s just been killed. What’s they glory in killing a dead person one more time?

I’ve been concerned for you. It’s good advice. Learning can be pleasant when a man speaks well, especially when he seeks your benefit.

They use fine words to spread around abusive insults.

Alas, does any man know or think about…

Think what? What sort of pithy common thought are you about to utter?

…how good advice is valuable—worth more than all possessions.

I think that’s true, as much as foolishness is what harms us most.

Yet that’s the sickness now infecting you.

I have no desire to denigrate a prophet when I speak.

But that’s what you are doing, when you claim my oracles are false.

The tribe of prophets—all of them—are fond of money.

And kings? Their tribe loves to benefit dishonestly.

You know you’re speaking of the man who rules you.

I know—thanks to me you saved the city and now are in control.

You’re a wise prophet, but you love doing wrong.

You’ll force me to speak of secrets locked inside my heart.

Do it—just don’t speak to benefit yourself.

I don’t think that I’ll be doing that—not as far as you’re concerned.

You can be sure you won’t change my mind to make yourself more rich.

Then understand this well—you will not see the sun race through its cycle many times before you lose a child of your own loins, a corpse in payment for these corpses.

Then understand this well—you will not see the sun race through its cycle many times before you lose a child of your own loins, a corpse in payment for these corpses.

You’ve thrown down to those below someone from up above—in your arrogance you’ve moved a living soul into a grave, leaving here a body owned by gods below—unburied, dispossessed, unsanctified.

You’ve thrown down to those below someone from up above—in your arrogance you’ve moved a living soul into a grave, leaving here a body owned by gods below—unburied, dispossessed, unsanctified.

That’s no concern of yours or gods above. In this you violate the ones below. And so destroying avengers wait for you, Furies of Hades and the gods, who’ll see you caught up in this very wickedness.

That’s no concern of yours or gods above. In this you violate the ones below. And so destroying avengers wait for you, Furies of Hades and the gods, who’ll see you caught up in this very wickedness.

Now see if I speak as someone who’s been bribed. It won’t be long before in your own house the men and women all cry out in sorrow, and cities rise in hate against you—

Now see if I speak as someone who’s been bribed. It won’t be long before in your own house the men and women all cry out in sorrow, and cities rise in hate against you—

all those whose mangled soldiers have had burial rites from dogs, wild animals, or flying birds who carry the unholy stench back home, to every city hearth.

all those whose mangled soldiers have had burial rites from dogs, wild animals, or flying birds who carry the unholy stench back home, to every city hearth.

Like an archer, I shoot these arrows now into your heart because you have provoked me. I’m angry—so my aim is good. You’ll not escape their pain.

Like an archer, I shoot these arrows now into your heart because you have provoked me. I’m angry—so my aim is good. You’ll not escape their pain.

Child, lead us home so he can vent his rage on younger men and keep a quieter tongue and a more temperate mind than he has now.