Messenger
CREON, MESSENGER, CHORUS.
I will not say, O king, that I am come
With hasten'd step, and breathless through my speed;
For oft I paused, deep-musing, on my way,
And oft wheel'd round with purpose to return.
My soul with many a forceful argument
Thus reason'd with me, "Why in evil hour
"Goest thou where punishment awaits thee?---Wretch,
"Wilt thou stay lingering here? Should Creon know
" This from some other, how wilt thou escape
"His vengeance?" ---Musing thus with anxious thought,
And a slow pace, I made a short way long.
240
At length it was decided I should come.
240
E'en though I tell thee nothing, I will speak;
240
For I am come confiding in the hope
240
Nothing awaits me more than is decreed.
240
Antigone. Sophocles. Robert Potter (Translator). London. 1820.