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.