Bacchus, shaker of the ground! 
          Let us end our revels here;
          Lo!  Creon our new lord draws near,
          Crowned by this strange chance, our king. 
          What, I marvel, pondering? 
          Why this summons?  Wherefore call
          Us, his elders, one and all,
          Bidding us with him debate,
          On some grave concern of State?
[Enter Creon]

Creon
Elders, the gods have righted one again
Our storm-tossed ship of state, now safe in port. 
But you by special summons I convened
As my most trusted councilors; first, because
I knew you loyal to Laius of old;
Again, when Oedipus restored our State,
Both while he ruled and when his rule was o’er,
Ye still were constant to the royal line. 
Now that his two sons perished in one day,
Brother by brother murderously slain,
By right of kinship to the Princes dead,
I claim and hold the throne and sovereignty. 
Yet ’tis no easy matter to discern
The temper of a man, his mind and will,
Till he be proved by exercise of power;
And in my case, if one who reigns supreme
Swerve from the highest policy, tongue-tied
By fear of consequence, that man I hold,
And ever held, the basest of the base. 
And I contemn the man who sets his friend
Before his country.  For myself, I call
To witness Zeus, whose eyes are everywhere,
If I perceive some mischievous design
To sap the State, I will not hold my tongue;
Nor would I reckon as my private friend
A public foe, well knowing that the State
Is the good ship that holds our fortunes all: 
Farewell to friendship, if she suffers wreck. 
Such is the policy by which I seek
To serve the Commons and conformably
I have proclaimed an edict as concerns
The sons of Oedipus; Eteocles
Who in his country’s battle fought and fell,
The foremost champion—­duly bury him
With all observances and ceremonies
That are the guerdon of the heroic dead. 
But for the miscreant exile who returned
Minded in flames and ashes to blot out
His father’s city and his father’s gods,
And glut his vengeance with his kinsmen’s blood,
Or drag them captive at his chariot wheels—­
For Polyneices ’tis ordained that none
Shall give him burial or make mourn for him,
But leave his corpse unburied, to be meat
For dogs and carrion crows, a ghastly sight. 
So am I purposed; never by my will
Shall miscreants take precedence of true men,
But all good patriots, alive or dead,
Shall be by me preferred and honored.

Chorus
Son of Menoeceus, thus thou will’st to deal
With him who loathed and him who loved our State. 
Thy word is law; thou canst dispose of us
The living, as thou will’st, as of the dead.

Creon
See then ye execute what I ordain.

Chorus
On younger shoulders lay this grievous charge.