Is the pain in your ears, or in your soul?CreonAnd why would you define the seat of my pain?GuardHe who did it hurts your heart, but I, your ears.CreonGod! How plain it is that you are a born babbler.GuardPerhaps, but never the author of this action.CreonYes, and what is more, you sold your life for silver.GuardAh! It is truly sad when the judge judges wrong .CreonExpound on judgment as you will. But, if you fail to show me the perpetrators of these crimes, you will avow that money basely earned wreaks sorrows.Exit Creon.GuardWell, may the man be found! That would be best. But, whether he be caught or not—for fortune must decide that—I assure you that you will not see me come here again. Saved just now beyond hope and belief, I owe the gods great thanks.Exit the Guard.

ChorusWonders are many, and none is more wonderful than man. This power spans the sea, even when it surges white before the gales of the south-wind, and makes a path under swells that threaten to engulf him. Earth, too, the eldest of the gods, the immortal, the unwearied, he wears away to his own ends, turning the soil with the offspring of horses as the plows weave to and fro year after year.

ChorusThe light-hearted tribe of birds and the clans of wild beasts and the sea-brood of the deep he snares in the meshes of his twisted nets, and he leads them captive, very-skilled man. He masters by his arts the beast who dwells in the wilds and roams the hills. He tames the shaggy-maned horse, putting the yoke upon its neck, and tames the tireless mountain bull.