INTERLUDE ISECOND ACTION:GREEKCOMMUNITY ACTORS[175]Comprise
INTERLUDE I
SECOND ACTION:GREEK
COMMUNITY ACTORS[175]
Comprise
THEME
Sophocles rehearses the Second Chorus of his drama “Antigone” in the Theatre of Dionysus, at Athens, B. C. 440.
ACTION
At the sounding of Interlude trumpets, the light passes to the great gates of the ground-circle, from which simultaneously two main groups enter.
From the right enter Athenian Citizens, accompanying Pericles and Aspasia. These move forward to the north portion of the Yellow Sands [between the centre of stage B and the altar] and there form the semicircle of an antique audience, which faces the altar and the modern audience. Among these, two seats are placed for Aspasia and Pericles.
From the left gate, meanwhile, has entered the Choregus [producer of the play], in conversation with Sophocles, followed closely by a group of twenty friends, among whom are Socrates, Aristophanes, Anaxagoras,Alcibiades, and Euripides. These move toward the centre. There Sophocles summons the Chorodidaskalos [Chorus Master], and the Orchestrodidaskalos [Dancing Master] to confer with him and the Choregus. Returning part way toward the left gate, the Chorus Master calls aloud “Antigone!”
Enter, then [left], the Actor of the part of Antigone, followed by a group of Actors comprising the impersonators of Ismene, Creon, Haemon, Eurydice, Teiresias, a Watchman, and two Messengers. With these, who carry their classic masks in their hands, the Choregus confers in pantomime, directs them to join Sophocles at the altar, and then calls aloud: “Choreutai!”
Thereupon enter the Choreutai [Members of the Chorus], sixty in number, in four bands, fifteen in each band. Preceded by the Choryphaios [Stage Chorus Leader] and four Flute-players [one for each band], escorted by two Parastatai [Assistant Leaders], the Chorus march in military order first south [each band in three ranks of five men] till they are opposite the altar, then east [each band in five files of three men], till they halt near the altar.
Here, after Sophocles has greeted Pericles and Aspasia nearby in the impromptu audience [which his group of friends have now joined], afterhe has chatted with Socrates, and been chaffed by Aristophanes and Alcibiades, he turns with the Choregus to conduct the rehearsal.
After giving directions to Antigone and Ismene, who rehearse in pantomime a snatch of their first scene together, and after a few instructions to Haemon, Euripides, and Teiresias, Sophocles now bids the Choregus direct the last few passages between Creon and the Messenger, just before the Second Chorus in the play.
They do so in pantomime; Creon, with final threatening gesture to the Messenger, makes his exit, and the Messenger—thanking the gods for his escape from Creon’s anger—also departs.
And now, by direction of Sophocles, the Chorus Master and the Master of Dance make signal to the Chorus and the Flute-players; Sophocles steps back near Pericles and his other friends: the Flutists begin playing and, under leadership of the two masters of choral song and of dance, the Chorus—with vigorous, rhythmic cadence of their athletic bodies—perform an austere dance about the altar, raising to its measure their choral song:
CHORUS
The words of this chorus are translated here by the author from the Second Chorus of Sophocles’ play “Antigone.”
Many are the wonders of time, but the mightiest wonder is man;Man! for he maketh his path with the south wind, over the surgesDown where the storm-white billowsLoom to devour him: Yea,And Earth, the immortal, the oldest of gods,The untoilsome, he tameth with toiling horsesDark where his turning ploughsharePlougheth from age unto age.Birds, O the wild-hearted birds, and the breeds of the savagewoodDeep in his woven nets he hath snared, and the broods of thebright seaLeadeth he likewise captive—Master of masters, Man!And high on the hills he hath tracked to her wildThe shaggy-maned horse and yoked her in harness;Tireless, too, hath his spiritTamed the wild mountain bull.Words, and the wind of great thought, and the mood thatmouldeth a state,These hath he mastered, and knoweth to parry the whitefrost arrow’sPitiless barb, and the pouringArrows of purple rain.All, all hath he mastered, and all that may comeHe meeteth with cunning and power; but onlyDeath hath he failed to master:Death is the master of man.
Many are the wonders of time, but the mightiest wonder is man;Man! for he maketh his path with the south wind, over the surgesDown where the storm-white billowsLoom to devour him: Yea,And Earth, the immortal, the oldest of gods,The untoilsome, he tameth with toiling horsesDark where his turning ploughsharePlougheth from age unto age.Birds, O the wild-hearted birds, and the breeds of the savagewoodDeep in his woven nets he hath snared, and the broods of thebright seaLeadeth he likewise captive—Master of masters, Man!And high on the hills he hath tracked to her wildThe shaggy-maned horse and yoked her in harness;Tireless, too, hath his spiritTamed the wild mountain bull.Words, and the wind of great thought, and the mood thatmouldeth a state,These hath he mastered, and knoweth to parry the whitefrost arrow’sPitiless barb, and the pouringArrows of purple rain.All, all hath he mastered, and all that may comeHe meeteth with cunning and power; but onlyDeath hath he failed to master:Death is the master of man.
Many are the wonders of time, but the mightiest wonder is man;Man! for he maketh his path with the south wind, over the surgesDown where the storm-white billowsLoom to devour him: Yea,And Earth, the immortal, the oldest of gods,The untoilsome, he tameth with toiling horsesDark where his turning ploughsharePlougheth from age unto age.
Birds, O the wild-hearted birds, and the breeds of the savagewoodDeep in his woven nets he hath snared, and the broods of thebright seaLeadeth he likewise captive—Master of masters, Man!And high on the hills he hath tracked to her wildThe shaggy-maned horse and yoked her in harness;Tireless, too, hath his spiritTamed the wild mountain bull.
Words, and the wind of great thought, and the mood thatmouldeth a state,These hath he mastered, and knoweth to parry the whitefrost arrow’sPitiless barb, and the pouringArrows of purple rain.All, all hath he mastered, and all that may comeHe meeteth with cunning and power; but onlyDeath hath he failed to master:Death is the master of man.
As they conclude, a runner comes hastening from the right gate, calling “Pericles!”
Pericles rises, receives in pantomime the message of the runner, and indicates to Sophocles that he must return to the city.
He and Aspasia and their followers depart [right gate]. With a gesture, then, to the Choregus, Sophocles dismisses the rehearsal; he and his friends follow the others; the Chorus forms again in files and ranks, moving off with the playing Flute-players to the right Interlude gate, where all disappear.