Who sent this answer, Phoebus, come confessed
Helper to Thebes, and strong to stay the pest.
[The suppliants gather up their boughs and stand at the side. The chorus of Theban elders enter.
Chorus.
[They speak of the Oracle which they have not yet heard, and cry to Apollo by his special cry “I-ê.”
A Voice, a Voice, that is borne on the Holy Way!
What art thou, O Heavenly One, O Word of the Houses of Gold?
Thebes is bright with thee, and my heart it leapeth; yet is it cold,
And my spirit faints as I pray.
I-ê! I-ê!
What task, O Affrighter of Evil, what task shall thy people essay?
One new as our new-come affliction,
Or an old toil returned with the years?
Unveil thee, thou dread benediction,
Hope’s daughter and Fear’s.
[They pray to Athena, Artemis, and Apollo.
Zeus-Child that knowest not death, to thee I pray,
O Pallas; next to thy Sister, who calleth Thebes her own,
Artemis, named of Fair Voices, who sitteth her orbèd throne
In the throng of the market way:
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