<GetPassage xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0" xmlns="http://chs.harvard.edu/xmlns/cts">
            <request>
                <requestName>GetPassage</requestName>
                <requestUrn>urn:cts:greekLit:tlg0011.tlg002.perseus-eng2:992-1040</requestUrn>
            </request>
            <reply>
                <urn>urn:cts:greekLit:tlg0011.tlg002.perseus-eng2:992-1040</urn>
                <passage>
                    <TEI xmlns="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><text xml:lang="eng"><body><div type="translation" n="urn:cts:greekLit:tlg0011.tlg002.perseus-eng2" xml:lang="eng"><div type="textpart" subtype="episode"><sp><l n="992" resp="p">I will tell you. You, obey the seer.</l></sp><sp><speaker>Creon</speaker><l n="993" resp="p">It was not my habit before, at any rate, to stand apart
                            from your will.</l></sp><sp><speaker>Teiresias</speaker><l n="994" resp="p">Therefore you captained this city on an upright course.</l></sp><sp><speaker>Creon</speaker><l n="995" resp="p">I have felt and can attest your benefits.</l></sp><sp><speaker>Teiresias</speaker><l n="996" resp="p">Realize that once more now you are poised on fortune’s
                            razor-edge.</l></sp><sp><speaker>Creon</speaker><l n="997" resp="p">What do you mean? I shudder to hear you!</l></sp><sp><speaker>Teiresias</speaker><l n="998" resp="p">You will understand, when you hear the signs revealed by my
                            art. As I took my place on my old seat of augury </l><l n="1000" resp="p">where all birds regularly gather for me, I heard an
                            unintelligible voice among them: they were screaming in dire frenzy that
                            made their language foreign to me. I realized that they were ripping
                            each other with their talons, murderously—the rush of their wings did
                            not lack meaning. </l><l n="1005" resp="p">Quickly, in fear, I tried burnt-sacrifice on a
                            duly-kindled altar, but from my offerings Hephaestus did not blaze.
                            Instead juice that had sweated from the thigh-flesh trickled out onto
                            the embers and smoked and sputtered; </l><l n="1010" resp="p">the gall was scattered high up in the air; and the
                            streaming thighs lay bared of the fat that had been wrapped around them.
                            Such was the failure of the rites that yielded no sign, as I learned
                            from this boy. For he is my guide, as I am guide to others. </l><l n="1015" resp="p">And it is your will that is the source of the sickness
                            now afflicting the city. For the altars of our city and our hearths have
                            one and all been tainted by the birds and dogs with the carrion taken
                            from the sadly fallen son of Oedipus. And so the gods no more accept
                            prayer and sacrifice at our hands, </l><l n="1020" resp="p">or the burning of thigh-meat, nor does any bird sound
                            out clear signs in its shrill cries, for they have tasted the fatness of
                            a slain man’s blood. Think, therefore, on these things, my son. All men
                            are liable to err.</l><l n="1025" resp="p">But when an error is made, that man is no longer unwise
                            or unblessed who heals the evil into which he has fallen and does not
                            remain stubborn. Self-will, we know, invites the charge of foolishness.
                            Concede the claim of the dead. Do not kick at the fallen. </l><l n="1030" resp="p">What prowess is it to kill the dead all over again? I
                            have considered for your good, and what I advise is good. The sweetest
                            thing is to learn from a good advisor when his advice is to your
                            profit.</l></sp><milestone unit="card" n="1033"/><sp><speaker>Creon</speaker><l n="1033" resp="p">Old man, you all shoot your arrows at me, like archers at
                            their mark, and I am not safe </l><l n="1035" resp="p">even from the plottings of the seer’s divine art, but
                            by their tribe I have long been bought and sold and made their
                            merchandise. Turn your profits, make your deals for the white gold of
                                <placeName key="perseus,Sardis">Sardis</placeName> and the gold of
                                <placeName key="tgn,7000198">India</placeName>, if it pleases you,
                            but you shall not cover that man with a grave, </l><l n="1040" resp="p">not even if the eagles of Zeus wish to snatch and carry
                            him to be devoured at the god’s throne. No, not even then, for fear of
                            that defilement will I permit his burial, since I know with certainty
                            that no mortal has the power to defile the gods. </l></sp></div></div></body></text></TEI>
                </passage>
            </reply>
            </GetPassage>