HAEMON.
Never before my eyes, believe it not;
A witness of her death I will not be,
Nor shalt thou look upon my face again.
Rave at the friends who will thy raving brook.
(Exit HAEMON.)
CHORUS.
O Prince, the youth has rushed away in wrath,
And at his years anguish is violent.
CREON.
Let him go vent his overweening pride;
These maidens twain shall not escape from death.
CHORUS.
What? Is it thy resolve that both shall die?