Then the King answered, “Old man, I know the race of prophets full well, how ye sell your art for gold. But, make thy trade as thou wilt, this man shall not have burial; yea, though the eagles of Zeus carry his flesh to their master’s throne in heaven, he shall not have it.” And when the prophet spake again, entreating him, and warning, the King answered him after the same fashion, that he spake not honestly, but had sold his art for money. But at the last the prophet spake in great wrath, saying, “Know, O King, that before many days shall pass, thou shalt pay a life for a life, even one of thine own children, for them with whom thou hast dealt unrighteously, shutting up the living with the dead, and keeping the dead from them to whom they belong. Therefore the Furies lie in wait for thee, and thou shalt see whether or no I speak these things for money. For there shall be mourning and lamentation in thine own house; and against thy people shall be stirred up all the cities, whose sons thou hast made to lie unburied. And now, my child, lead me home, and let this man rage against them that are younger than I.” So the prophet departed, and the old men were sore afraid, and said, “He hath spoken terrible things, O King; nor ever since these gray hairs were black have we known him say that which was false.” “Even so,” said the King, “and I am troubled in heart, and yet am loath to depart from my purpose.” “King Creon,” said the old men, “thou needest good counsel.” “What, then, would ye have done?” “Set free the maiden from the sepulchre, and give this dead man burial.”