ance with the usual machinery of Greek tragedy, the messenger of evil tidings enters, and in one line tells his story:—
"Bathed in his blood, all lifeless, Hæmon lies."
Eurydice, the queen-mother, passing by on her way to the shrine of Minerva, overhears his words, and in an agony of terror demands to be told the whole truth. Then follows the tale of doom.
Creon had hurried to make what atonement he might to the outraged corpse of Polynices. It still lay upon the plain where the watchmen had left it, torn and mangled by the dogs, holding their carnival around the dead. After prayer had been made to the "Goddess of Pathways,"[1] Creon's attendants reverently wash the body in pure water, burn the remains, and raise a mound of earth. Then they take their way to "death's marriage-chamber," in which Antigone had been immured. Even before they reach it, a shrill cry of lamentation breaks upon their ears; and with a heart foreboding the worst, Creon bids his slaves roll away the stones and widen the entrance to the tomb. The sight which meets their eyes, as the set scene in the background opens, is piteous beyond all expression. The messenger continues:—
"In the farthest corner of the vault
We saw her hanging by her neck, with cord
Of linen threads entwined, and him we found
Clasping her form in passionate embrace."—(P.)
- ↑ Proserpine or Hecate—the goddess who guarded the highways which were polluted by the unburied body of Polynices.
