launched at you, archer-like, in my anger. They fly
true—you cannot run from their burning sting. Boy, lead me home, so that
he may launch his rage against younger men, and learn to keep a quieter
tongue and a better mind within his breast than he now
bears.Exit Teiresias.ChorusThe man is gone, my king, leaving dire prophecies behind.
And for all the time that I have had this hair on my head, now white,
once dark, I know that he has never been a false prophet to our
city.CreonI, too, know it well, and my mind is troubled. To yield
is terrible, but, to resist, to strike my pride with ruin—this, too,
inspires terror.ChorusThe moment, Creon, requires that you reason wisely.CreonWhat should I do, then? Speak, and I will obey.ChorusGo and free the girl from her hollowed chamber. Then
raise a tomb for the unburied dead.CreonAnd you recommend this? You think that I should yield?ChorusYes, my king, and with all possible speed. For harms sent
from the gods swiftly cut short the follies of men.CreonAh, it is a struggle, but I depart from my heart’s
resolve and obey. We must not wage vain wars with necessity.ChorusGo, do these things and do not leave their performance to
others.CreonRight away I will go. Go, go, my servants, each and all of
you! Take axes in your hands, and hurry to that place there in view! But since my
judgment has taken this turn, I will be there to set her free, as I
myself confined her. I am held by the fear that it is best to keep the
established laws to life’s very end.
ChorusGod of many names, glory of the
Cadmeian bride and offspring of loud-thundering Zeus, you who watch over
far-famed Italy and
reign in the valleys of
Eleusinian Deo where all find welcome! O Bacchus, denizen of Thebes, the mother-city of your
Bacchants, dweller by the wet stream of Ismenus on the soilof the sowing of the savage dragon’s teeth! ChorusThe smoky glare of torches sees
you above the cliffs of the twin peaks, where the Corycian nymphs move
inspired by your godhead, and Castalia’s stream sees you, too. The ivy-mantled
slopes of Nysa’s hills and
the shore green with many-clustered vines send you, when accompanied
by the cries of your divine words, you visit the
avenues of Thebes. ChorusThebes of all cities you hold foremost in honor,
together with your lightning-struck mother.