Gender issues in Antigone One of the most devastating problems for the classical Greeks was the issue of women. Women in classical Greece were not citizens, did not own any property and indeed could not even leave the house unless under surveillance. Their condition differed from that of Greek slaves only in name. This alone, however, was not a problem: the problem was that the Greeks knew, in their hearts, that this was wrong. Indeed, their playwrights continually harangued them about it from the stage in Athens. All the great Greek playwrights – Sophocles, Euripedes, Aristophenes – dealt with the female question. They all argued, in different ways, that Greek women were not as incapable and weak as the culture believed them to be. All of them created female characters of strength and intelligence. But in "Antigone" the discussion reached its peak. Antigone herself, while on the Greek stage, represents the highest ideals of human life: courage and respect! etc for the gods. A woman, however, is the exemplum of her society. But how can we know? Does the author let the audience know that it is Antigone herself, and not Creon, the "noble-eyed emperor" (453), who should be believed? It is almost inconceivable that the audience would want to ignore Creon's seemingly skillful arguments, for he seems to represent everything the Athenian should strive for. He is in favor of obedience to the state. Surely it is his voice that we should obey. Sophocles lets us know where the truth lies, and does so, surprisingly, in part through his characterization of Creon. Even though Creon apparently says intelligent things, there are hints that he is not to be trusted. One might be his discussion about incest with Ismene. Torn between her duty to God and her duty to the State, Ismene, in the third act, has rushed to Creon, planning to tell him of Antigone's actions in the cemetery: "Oh, not for me the dusty hair of youth, / But now let's go to the palace" (465), he cries. But Creon, ignoring the apparently important information she has to say (he has, after all, emptied the Theban coffers, spending money on his advanced spy network in pursuit of the miscreant) asks her, instead, to return home with him. "How long, O princess, oh! How long!" he states, suggesting the time of their next meeting: “At noon, or / Not at six.” The condemned line of Oedipus has reached this step.