Monologue

Guard Monologue from Antigone

From Antigone by Sophocles

male · contemplative · 59 sec

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My lord, I will not make pretense to pant And puff as some light-footed messenger. In sooth my soul beneath its pack of thought Made many a halt and turned and turned again; For conscience plied her spur and curb by turns. “Why hurry headlong to thy fate, poor fool?” She whispered. Then again, “If Creon learn This from another, thou wilt rue it worse.” Thus leisurely I hastened on my road; Much thought extends a furlong to a league. But in the end the forward voice prevailed, To face thee. I will speak though I say nothing. For plucking courage from despair methought, ‘Let the worst hap, thou canst but meet thy fate.’

About this piece

The Guard grapples with his conscience and the weight of his duty as he prepares to confront Creon about the burial of Antigone, reflecting on the fear of facing his fate.

30s · fear · fate · honor · despair · power

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