was brought that a band of robbers were the assailants. During the pause the Chorus moralise on the frequent downfalls of pride, and the fate of those who, by haughty deed and lofty tone, do spurn the gods, and suffer a heavier punishment from the reproaches of conscience than from a stroke of steel. Then a messenger arrives from Corinth with intelligence of the death of Polybus, and that Edipus has been elected his successor. 'Who need now believe the oracle!' exclaims Jocasta in her joy. But the messenger proceeds to tell the story of the adoption of Edipus by the Corinthian queen, and when the question is raised, who was the mother of the child, Jocasta rushes from the stage in despair. The aged shepherd who found the child is now brought before Edipus, who, on hearing his evidence, exclaims in agony, 'Woe, woe, all cometh clear at last,' and retires horror-stricken. The Chorus having mourned over the vanity of life, an attendant comes in to announce that Jocasta has hanged herself, and that Edipus has pierced his eyes with the point of her buckle, and is blind. The palace doors are rolled back, and he appears with the blood streaming from his mutilated eyes, whilst the Chorus hide their faces in their robes, asking why he has thus doomed himself,

'As in the land of darkness, yet in light,
To live a life half dead, a living death?'

He replies he has been fast bound to the wheel of necessity, and that Apollo has prompted his act. Creon now enters,

and Edipus begs that Jocasta may be buried as a king's daughter, that he may be lodged in some vast wilderness, and that his two daughters may be cared for. They come in and embrace him, as he mournfully dwells on their unhappy destiny, the play concluding with a warning from the Chorus to the audience to

'Think on this, short-sighted mortal,
And, till life's deciding close,
Dare not to pronounce thy fellow
Truly happy, truly blest,

Till, the bounds of life passed over,
Still unharmed he sinks to rest.'

Dale.

CONTRARY to his wish, he remained at Thebes for many years, dutifully cared for by his daughters Antigone and Ismene, and hoping for a peaceful death. But Creon, who has resumed the throne, at the suggestion of the sons of Edipus, Eteocles and Polynices, has at length driven him forth a wanderer on the face of the earth, still tended by Antigone, and,—

'Forgetting their first sad life, and home,

And all that Theban woe, they stray

Through sunny glens, or on the warm sea-shore,'

until they reach the village of Colonus, near Athens, a situation teeming with natural beauties, and a favourite shrine with more than one of the deities. Learning the sacredness of the spot from a passer by, he supplicates the gods for pity on the wasted spectral form that once was Edipus. The Chorus, however, consisting of aged citizens of Colonus, enter, indignant that he should set foot in the holy grove, and, as his daughter leads him away, they elicit who he is, upon which they insist that he instantly leaves their coast. But Edipus appeals to their king, Theseus; when suddenly Ismene arrives with the news that her brothers are quarrelling for the crown of Thebes, and that Creon is on his way to secure their father, in order that, when he dies, his tomb may protect the city. The Chorus tell him he must first make his peace with the avenger of the dead, by offering a solemn libation, after which, by a whispered prayer to the Eumenides, he will obtain rest and pardon. He, however, deputes his daughters to perform the prescribed ceremonies; and, during their absence, Theseus arrives to condole with him. Edipus tells him of the desire for his body at Thebes, and dilates on the uncertainty of all earthly friendships. The king declares he will not surrender his suppliant guest, saying,—

'My very name will guard thee from all harm.'

The Chorus are describing the charms of the locality, and expatiating on Attic chivalry, when Creon arrives, at the

head of an armed force, to invite Edipus to return, but he sees through his insincerity, and declines; upon which the Theban guards drag off Antigone and Ismene as hostages, and Creon is just seizing Edipus, when Theseus enters. He orders his troops to rescue the captive maidens, and rebukes the Theban king for his conduct. Creon insults

both him and Edipus by his affected surprise that the one should shelter the other, whilst Edipus retorts on the brother who has uttered such foul reproaches against a sister's unwilling, because unknown, crime. Theseus insists on Creon accompanying him in search of the captives, and promises Edipus that his children shall be restored to him. The Chorus describes their pursuit and recovery in a sparkling ode, and presently Theseus returns with them. He tells Edipus that his eldest son, Polynices, craves an interview with him, and, after another choral song, he enters. He relates how his brother has wronged him, and implores forgiveness for his own unfilial conduct; but his father will not relent, and reiterates the curses he had already pronounced against him. He has learnt his fate, and prepares to return to Thebes, simply begging his sisters to give his body decent burial, and invoking a blessing upon them, feeling that he is a doomed man. A storm now bursts over the place, and the terrified Chorus summon Theseus. Edipus bids the king and his daughters follow him whither Mercury and the Queen of Night are leading; and, moving slowly up a sloping ridge, he suddenly disappears. The Chorus chant a solemn requiem for his soul, and a messenger tells the sequel. He had reached the brazen steps, and, after bathing his limbs, had put on a clean white robe. Then came the sound of subterranean thunder, and, as he was embracing his daughters, he was summoned by a mysterious unseen voice, upon which he bade all leave the spot, save Theseus; and when, after a short interval, they return, the Athenian king is alone, shading his eyes as if dazzled by an unearthly vision, and prostrate in prayer,

'For neither was it thunderbolt from Jove,

With flashing fire that slew him, nor the blast
Of whirlwind sweeping o'er the sea's dark waves;

But either some one whom the gods had sent
To guide his steps, or gentleness of mood
Had moved the powers beneath to ope the way
To earth's deep centre painlessly. His end,
If any ever was, was wonderful."

Plumptre.

ANTIGONE.

As Edipus the King' was the tragedy most admired by the ancient critics, so this one has attained the greatest popularity in modern times, as the purest and noblest ideal of womanhood ever conceived in a poet's imagination.

Antigone and Ismene were living under the guardianship of Creon at the time of the siege of Thebes by Polynices, in the hope of wresting the crown from his younger brother Eteocles, who had deposed him; and the action of the play commences on the morning after the flight of the Argive host. The opening scene represents the palace of Thebes, on the walls of which hang the armour of the defeated chieftains, with a view of the city, and the Citharon hills, in the background. The sisters enter, discussing the decree of Creon that funeral rites shall be accorded to Eteocles, but that the corpse of Polynices shall lie unwept and unburied, a violation of what the Greeks held to be the most sacred

of all duties, both to friends and foes. The younger is endeavouring to dissuade the elder from resisting the king's will, by providing a grave for her brother. But Antigone spurns her counsel, saying,—

It cannot take from me a noble death;'

and departs on her errand. The Chorus sing a triumphal hymn in celebration of the recent victory. Then Creon enters in royal apparel, with a numerous suite, and justifies his different treatment of the two brothers' bodies, in an ostentatious patriotic speech. As he concludes, one of the watchers over the exposed corpse shuffles in to report that some one has secretly covered it with dust, and that it is

untouched by bird or beast. The king in a rage threatens to hang the Chorus unless they discover the traitor who has dared to defy him. They chant an ode, on the dominion of man over the powers of nature:

'Many the things that strange and wondrous are,
None stranger or more wonderful than man;
Only from Hades finds he no retreat,

Though many a hopeless sore disease he heals ;'
(Plumptre),

in the midst of which Antigone is brought in a prisoner, followed by Creon. The same watcher explains how she was caught in the very act of sprinkling dust and pouring a libation over the body; and she proudly replies,

'No ordinance of man shall over-ride
The settled laws of nature and of Jove;
Not written these in pages of a book,

Nor were they framed to-day, nor yesterday;
We know not whence they are; but this we know,
That they from all eternity have been,

And shall to all eternity endure.'

Creon, however, is only incensed by her stubbornness, and vows she shall not escape her doom. To his question why she has insulted the dead patriot by honouring the godless renegade, she answers,

'My love shall go with thine, but not my hate.'

Ismene enters, and begs she may share her sister's fate; but Antigone tells her,

'Thou dost live. My soul long since

Hath died to render service to the dead; '

and the king orders the guards to lead them both away. The Chorus mourn the doom of ancestral guilt, and the resistless decrees of heaven. Hæmon, Creon's son, who is betrothed to Antigone, now pleads for her; but is told that sons are born to obey their father's will, and that the idea of love for woman influencing his understanding is simply incomprehensible. The Chorus, however, dwell upon the irresistible and pervading passion,

'Whose mystic sway, Creation's varied forms obey;'