ANTIGONE 151
Creon. Prate about thinking : but unless ye show To nie the doers, ye shall say ere long 355
That scoundrel gains still work their punishment.
_Exit. Guard. God send we find him! Should we find him not, As well may be, (for this must chance decide,) Yon will not see me coming here again ; For now, being safe beyond all hope of mine, 36o
Beyond all thought, I owe the Gods much thanks,
^Exit. Strophe I.
Chorus. Many the forms of life,
Wondrous and strange to see,
But nought than man appears
More wondrous and more strange. ses
He, with the wintry gales,
O'er the white foaming sea,
'Mid wild waves surging round,
Wendeth his way across : Earth, of all Gods, from ancient days the first, 370
Unworn and undecayed. He, with his ploughs that travel o'er and o'er,
Furrowing with horse and mule,
Wears ever year by year.
Antistrophe I. The thoughtless tribe of birds, 375
The beasts that roam the fields. The brood in sea-depths born, He takes them all in nets Knotted in snaring mesh,
Man, wonderful in skill. 380
And by his subtle arts He holds in sway the beasts
