Antigone enters, led by attendants to her execution.

Upon seeing the Choragus, she grows tearful, thinking of how she is being led to her death

chamber rather than her bridal chamber.

Antigone anticipates her

approaching death by singing her own funeral dirge, and the chorus

wonders if Oedipus' sins condemned his daughter to her fate. Antigone speaks, imploring her fellow citizens to look at her

before she leaves to die. The Chorus replies that at least she

has fame and praise and that it is admirable that she commanded

her own fate.

Antigone hopes that she will be remembered for what she has done, much like the goddess

Niobe. The Chorus reminds her that she is mortal, but that she

will likely be remembered much like a goddess. Antigone feels as though they are making fun of her and demands to know why

they are insulting her. She laments the fact that she has no friends to mourn her, and that

she will die entombed and alone.

The Chorus sings that in some ways she is still paying for her father's fated mistakes, and that perhaps her death

is some kind of compensation. The suggestion pains Antigone as she thinks about the tragedies of her

family constantly.

The Chorus reminds her, though, that she is dying of her own "selfish will," and Antigone adds that she also dies

alone, unmarried, and friendless. Creon interjects, ordering the

attendants to take her away to the cave.

“If dirges and planned lamentations could put off death,

Men would be singing forever.”

Antigone calls the vault both her tomb and her bridal chamber. Though

she is sad to die, she is happy to be reunited in death with her parents

and her brothers. She also rationalizes her burial of Polyneices by saying

that, while she wouldn't have done it for her own children or husband—because she could always replace them—she only had two brothers,

who are both dead.

She begs to know what "holy justice" she has violated by doing what she

thought was right and just. But she is content to know that if she is truly in the wrong, the gods will let her know.

She is finally led away. “O tomb, vaulted bride-bed in eternal rock, soon I shall be with my own again

where Persephone (wife of Hades and queen of the underworld) welcomes the thin ghosts underground: And I shall see my father again, and you, Mother, and dearest Polyneices.”

Even though Antigone has accepted the consequences of her actions from the beginning, she is understandably sad and frustrated that no one has spoken up to support her. Though the Chorus seems sympathetic, they rightly point out that she has brought this on herself. The Chorus does seem to recognize that Creon is making the wrong decision, but they don't have so much sympathy for Antigone that they are calling him on it outright. They point out that Antigone could have changed course at any time. Note that the Chorus honors Antigone for the way that she has become "a law to [herself]." She has not been killed by battle or illness, but is descending to death "alive and breathing," showing how unique and brave she is. “Not crowned with glory or with a dirge, you leave for the deep pit of the dead. No withering illness laid you low, no strokes of the sword--a law to yourself, alone, no mortal like you, ever, you go down to the halls of Death alive and breathing.” Antigone makes a reference to "the daughter of Tantalos, from Phrygia," who died a horrible death by turning to stone for boasting to the gods and who has never been forgotten for her suffering. The Chorus reminds Antigone that the daughter she is speaking of is Niobe, who was divine—and Antigone is merely a human being. “Reverence is a virtue, but strength lives in established law: that must prevail. You have made your choice; your death is the doing of your conscious hand.” Antigone's response is to accuse the Chorus of making fun of her because Niobe was punished for mocking the gods, whereas Antigone has been pious and obedient to them above all others. Her comparison of herself to Niobe has to do with hope she will be remembered for her suffering. Her anguished response to the Chorus here is understandable, then, given that she has risked her life in order to honor the gods and fears that she will die misunderstood.

Antigone's final invocation to the gods reveals that she still believes that they will reward her for her loyalty to them over Creon, and that she believes they will ultimately punish him for what he's done. In a way, Antigone's final anguish in this scene makes her a more sympathetic character since the audience catches a glimpse of her very human sadness at the fate that has befallen her. Even though she remains defiant, she mourns the life that she might have lived- accepting her role as a bride of death rather than as a bride of Haemon. For a woman who has been hailed as a heroine by the city, Antigone suffers a surprising amount of criticism from the chorus. The elders remind her sharply that her death was her own decision, sternly warn her not to compare herself to the gods, and even bring up the shame of her father's tragic ordeal and her incestuous birth. Although the chorus understands the danger of Creon's arrogance, the elders are not prepared to fully side with Antigone. Their tone makes clear that they see her as a wilful, passionate girl, caught in a trap of her own making. The Chorus highlights the theme of fate versus free will. The assault breaks through Antigone's mourning as she flares up in anger. “You laugh at me. Ah, friends, friends, Can you not wait until I am dead?” she passionately responds, in a return to her characteristic strength. But when the moment fades, the audience sees Antigone sink into a melancholy isolation — the emotional equivalent of the death she will soon face. Indeed, Antigone expresses her anguish in the very words her father used in Oedipus the King: “I am agony! O Oedipus, father and brother! Your marriage strikes from the grave to murder mine. The blasphemy of my birth has followed me.” The curse of Oedipus, it is clear, now has come to rest on his daughter.

In the culmination of the continuing theme of loving Death, Antigone calls the chamber where she will be buried alive "my bridal-bed." Faced with the deadly consequences of her action, Antigone seems overwhelmed, even regretful. Only in her last speech does she fully regain her characteristic strength, calling upon the men of Thebes to witness her suffering in the name of divine law. At Creon's order for the guards to take her away, Antigone nearly crumbles in anguish. Before recovering her courage, she cries out: "Ah! That voice is like the voice of death. It's come, it's here!" Antigone, the audience sees, is not a heartless fanatic. She truly mourns the life she leaves, and, at this instant, fears the consequences of her decision. Also in this scene, rather surprisingly, Antigone explains why she would never have defied Creon's order for the sake of a husband or her own children. The passage seems to contradict Antigone's devotion to the laws of the gods and undercuts her idealism, however, her acceptance of her fate shows her accountability. Antigone makes the decision to bury her brother knowing it will result in death. However, she does not lie about her actions and holds herself accountable believing she is being true to the gods over being true to mortals. “You will remember what things I suffer, and at what men’s hands because I would not transgress the laws of heaven. Come: let us wait no longer.”

The elders chant an ode about heroes and heroines who endured terrible punishments at the hands of Fate. The Chorus brings up the fact that "the power of fate is full of mystery," and that there is no getting around it, even if you are rich or powerful. They recall how similar fates to Antigone's befell other well-known mythological figures—all were imprisoned in cruel ways and died even though they all had something powerful that distinguished them.

The Chorus makes the comparison to other mythological figures in order to show that no matter how wealthy, powerful, or demigod-like one might be, fate cannot be escaped, even if that fate is as awful as Antigone's. Their reference to Danae calls up a comparison to Antigone's imprisonment since Danae, the daughter of the king of Argos, was also doomed by a prophecy to be "a prisoner hidden in a chamber like a tomb, although she, too, came from a noble line." Similarly Antigone's fate was set in motion by her relation to Oedipus, and there's nothing she can do to change it. The other comparison the Chorus calls out is to Lycurgus, who attacked Dionysus and paid for it with a painful death. Even though the Chorus reveals sympathy toward Antigone in these comparisons, they refuse to compare her to the gods since they also recognize that she broke a law.

After finding fault with Antigone for comparing herself to the gods, the elders choose

their own legendary figures to compare to Antigone. Danae's cruel imprisonment in a tower mirrors Antigone's fate, and the penetration of Zeus into Danae's chamber looks forward to Haemon's appearance in the tomb later on. Note that the Chorus chooses the mortal Danae to compare to Antigone, rather than the goddess Niobe as Antigone has done in her lament. As witnesses to the whole sad tale of Oedipus' family, the chorus feels great sympathy for Antigone, but they must stop short of comparing her to the gods. Their responsibility as elders demands that they do not glorify someone who is breaking the law. At the same time, the Chorus cannot fully support Creon in his judgment of Antigone. As a warning, then, the Chorus switches to another tale, the story of Lycurgus, the king who offended Dionysus by persecuting the god's women worshippers. In championing the laws of the gods, the persecuted women resemble Antigone, and Lycurgus recalls Creon. For his crimes against Dionysus, Lycurgus suffered imprisonment. His punishment foreshadows Creon's fate at the end of the play.

“Look upon me, friends, and pity me turning back at the night’s edge to say Good-bye to the sun that shines for me no longer; now sleepy Death summons me down to Acheron, that cold shore: There is no bride song there, nor any music.” --Antigone, Scene IV In Greek mythology, the Acheron, described as a river of Hades, is one of the rivers bordering the underworld- the place inhabited by the souls of the dead. Antigone makes a reference to Acheron, a river transporting dead bodies to the Underworld. This allusion provides the reader with a perspective of Antigone’s situation and shows her realization and understanding of her own fate. It shows the long-lasting effects of fate and the power of destiny in Greek mythology.

“How often I have heard the story of Niobe, Tantalos’ wretched daughter, how the stone clung fast about her, ivy-close: and they say the rain falls endlessly and sifting soft snow; her tears never done. I feel the loneliness of her death in mine.” --Antigone, Scene IV Tantalos was a son of Zeus. He was a favorite of the gods. Tantalos did the unthinkable: He killed his son Pelops. He chopped up Pelops and cooked him. He served Pelops to the gods. The gods were not amused. Tantalos was punished: forced to stand in a pool in Hades. Unable to lower his face to the water to drink. Unable to reach the copious fruit over his head. His punishment is the source of the word tantalize. Niobe was Tantalos’ daughter. She was married to a king of Thebes and became very wealthy. She was also the mother of seven beautiful daughters and seven handsome sons. She demanded to be worshipped by the people of Thebes. The people of Thebes worshipped Leto, mother of Apollo and Artemis. Leto was not pleased with Niobe’s pride, and so she sent her children to kill all of Niobe’s children. Niobe was so anguished that she sat very still, like a stone, with tears. She eventually turned into a stone, motionless, but still wet with tears.

“O tomb, vaulted bride-bed in eternal rock, soon I shall be with my own again where Persephone

welcomes the thin ghosts underground.” --Antigone, Scene IV

Persephone was the daughter of Ceres, goddess of grain. Hades,

god of the Underworld, had kidnapped Persephone to marry

her. Ceres spent months searching for her daughter

instead of making grain grow.

Ceres heard that Persephone was in the Underworld and asked for

her daughter to be returned. Zeus agreed to order Persephone’s

return as long as Persephone did not eat the food of the

Underworld.

Persephone, in hunger, had eaten a few pomegranate seeds. A

compromise was reached: For each seed she ate (some say six,

some say four) Persephone would stay one month with

Hades out of the year.

Ceres, during those months, mourns her daughter’s time away

and refuses to help grain grow. Persephone is referenced in Antigone as a metaphor to

Antigone because just like Hades captured Persephone and

brought her to the underworld Antigone is being captured and brought to death by the laws of

Creon.

“All Danae’s beauty was locked away in a brazen cell where sunlight could not come: A small room, still as any grave, enclosed her. Yet she was a princess too, and Zeus in a rain of gold poured love upon her.” --Chorus, Ode IV Danae was the beautiful daughter of Acrisius, king of Argos. Acrisius was told the Oracle of Delphi that he would have no sons, but Danae would have a son who would kill him. Acrisius would not kill his daughter for love and fear of the gods. He built a house of bronze for Danae and sunk it into the ground with a tiny window for some light and air. Zeus visited Danae in the form of a golden rain. Danae secretly gave birth to a son, Perseus. Acrisius placed Danae and Perseus in a box and dropped it in the sea. The two were rescued. Perseus later became the killer of Gorgons. Fate is key in both stories of Danae and of Antigone.

“And Dryas’ son also, that furious king, bore the god’s prisoning anger for his pride: Sealed up by Dionysus in deaf stone, his madness died among the echoes. So at last he learned what dreadful power his tongue had mocked: for he had profaned revels, and fired the wrath of the nine Implacable sisters that love the sound of the flute.” –Chorus, Ode IV There are 9 characters in Greek mythology names Dryas. Dryas was the father of King Lycurgus, king of the Edoni in Thrace. He was killed when his son went insane and, in an attempt to exterminate Dionysus, chopped Dryas with an ax after mistaking him for a trunk of ivy (the holy plant of Dionysus.)

“And Dryas’ son also, that furious king, bore the god’s prisoning anger for his pride: Sealed up by Dionysus in deaf stone, his madness died among the echoes. So at last he learned what dreadful power his tongue had mocked: for he had profaned revels, and fired the wrath of the nine Implacable sisters that love the sound of the flute.” –Chorus, Ode IV The Nine Muses were Greek goddesses who ruled over the arts and sciences and offered inspiration in those subjects. They were the daughters of Zeus, God of all gods, and Mnemosyne, who represented memory. Memory was important for the Muses because in ancient times, when there were no books, poets had to carry their work in their memories. They lived on two mountains, Olympus and Helicon.