Messenger. His own. Enraged because
His sire condemned to death the maid he loved.
Ch. Leader. Oh prophet, how hast thou thy word fulfilled!
Messenger. ’T is even as I say—decide what ’s best.
Ch. Leader. But look! Eurydice, the hapless wife
Of Creon comes here from the house—by chance,
Or has she heard the tidings of her son?
Eurydice enters from palace door C.
Ye Thebans all, I overheard your words,
As I was coming forth to make my way
To Pallas’ shrine and offer up my prayers.
And I had just removed the bar, prepared
To open wide the door, when words of woe
Affecting me and mine fell on my ear;
Shocked, my affrighted senses fled, and back
I fell into my waiting-women’s arms.
Repeat thy tale. What tidings dost thou bring?
’T will be no new experience for me:
Not ignorant of sorrow I shall listen.
Messenger. Dear lady, I was there, and what I saw
I ’ll tell without reserve and in detail.
For why should I attempt to soothe thy heart
And afterwards be proved a liar. Truth
Is always best.—As guide I led thy lord
Unto the summit of the plain, where still
Unpitied lay the corpse of Polyneices,
By dogs all mangled. To Persephone,
The goddess of the Cross-ways, and to Pluto,
We prayed to show us mercy and restrain
Their wrath; then washing pure and clean the corpse
With boughs fresh plucked we set to burning all
The dogs had left of his poor body; then
Of native earth heaped up a mound, and turned
To enter that rockvaulted chamber, where
The bridegroom, Death, awaited on a couch
Of stone. And long before we reached it, one
