Chorus. Thy counsel ’s good, if good in ill can be;
For “best” means “briefest” in calamity.
THIRD ANTISTROPHE.
Creon. Oh, let it come!
Oh, now appear,
Of all days most dear,
The brightest for me,
Day supreme!
Oh, that I could see
But the gleam!
Let it come,
Fairest, best,
Day of doom,
When I rest!
That never again these eyes
May behold another sunrise.
Chorus. The future will decide. The present need
Claims our attention,—ours naught else to heed.
Creon. My heart’s desires were summed up in that prayer.
Chorus. Pray then no more; for fate, in any shape,
Hath mortal man no power to escape.
FOURTH ANTISTROPHE.
Creon. Away, lead away
The rash fool, I pray,
Who unwittingly slew
His child, O my son,
What am I now to do?
See what I have done!
Slain thee, my child;
And thee, too, my wife!
Woe myriad-piled
Crushes out my life!
Where shall I turn my gaze or my mind,
Where support, where solace now find?
