(Str. 2)
Oh, as thou lov’st this city best of all,
To thee, and to thy Mother levin-stricken,
In our dire need we call;
Thou see’st with what a plague our townsfolk sicken. 
          Thy ready help we crave,
Whether adown Parnassian heights descending,
Or o’er the roaring straits thy swift was wending,
          Save us, O save!

(Ant. 2)
Brightest of all the orbs that breathe forth light,
     Authentic son of Zeus, immortal king,
Leader of all the voices of the night,
     Come, and thy train of Thyiads with thee bring,
          Thy maddened rout
Who dance before thee all night long, and shout,
          Thy handmaids we,
          Evoe, Evoe!

[Enter MESSENGER]

MESSENGER
Attend all ye who dwell beside the halls
Of Cadmus and Amphion.  No man’s life
As of one tenor would I praise or blame,
For Fortune with a constant ebb and rise
Casts down and raises high and low alike,
And none can read a mortal’s horoscope. 
Take Creon; he, methought, if any man,
Was enviable.  He had saved this land
Of Cadmus from our enemies and attained
A monarch’s powers and ruled the state supreme,
While a right noble issue crowned his bliss. 
Now all is gone and wasted, for a life
Without life’s joys I count a living death. 
You’ll tell me he has ample store of wealth,
The pomp and circumstance of kings; but if
These give no pleasure, all the rest I count
The shadow of a shade, nor would I weigh
His wealth and power ’gainst a dram of joy.

CHORUS
What fresh woes bring’st thou to the royal house?

MESSENGER
Both dead, and they who live deserve to die.

CHORUS
Who is the slayer, who the victim? speak.

MESSENGER
Haemon; his blood shed by no stranger hand.

CHORUS
What mean ye? by his father’s or his own?

MESSENGER
His own; in anger for his father’s crime.

CHORUS
O prophet, what thou spakest comes to pass.

MESSENGER
So stands the case; now ’tis for you to act.

CHORUS
Lo! from the palace gates I see approaching
Creon’s unhappy wife, Eurydice. 
Comes she by chance or learning her son’s fate?
[Enter EURYDICE]

EURYDICE
Ye men of Thebes, I overheard your talk. 
As I passed out to offer up my prayer
To Pallas, and was drawing back the bar
To open wide the door, upon my ears
There broke a wail that told of household woe
Stricken with terror in my handmaids’ arms
I fell and fainted.  But repeat your tale
To one not unacquaint with misery.