These are the protagonists. The people who are going to play out the story of Antigone for you. That’s her over there. Antigone. That thin little girl, not saying a word. Just sitting, looking straight ahead… thinking. What’s she thinking? That any minute now she’ll have to become “Antigone.” To somehow break the bounds of what she was, the rather pale, withdrawn girl who no one in the family really takes seriously, and become Antigone. Who must rise up and face the world, and face Creon who is her uncle, who is the King. She’s thinking that she’s going to have to die, that she’s young, and that she’d rather not. But there’s nothing she can do about it. She’s Antigone and that’s the part she has to play. And she has to play it to the hilt. Ever since the curtain rose she’s been feeling, what, a sort of distance. A distance growing and growing at a giddying rate, not just between her and her sister Ismene (that’s Ismene over there, chatting and laughing with that young man), but also between her and us. Between her and those of us who are quite content to sit here, and watch her, quite content because we don’t have to die. Well we do, but not necessarily tonight.