I have watched, and bitterly have wept; my mind
Hath travelled many a labyrinth of thought.
And now I have tried in act the only plan
Long meditation showed me. I have sent
The brother of my queen, Menoeceus’ son,
Creon, to learn, in Phoebus’ Delphian Hall,
What word or deed of mine may save this city.
And when I count the time, I am full of pain
To guess his speed; for he is absent long,
Beyond the limit of expectancy.
But when he shall appear, base then were I
In aught to disobey the voice of Heaven.
Pr. Lo, in good time, crowning thy gracious word,
’Tis told me by these youths, Creon draws near.
Oed. Apollo! may his coming be as blest
With saving fortune, as his looks are bright.
Pr. Sure he brings joyful news; else had he ne’er
Worn that full wreath of thickly-berried bay.
Oed. We have not long to doubt. He can hear now.
Enter Creon.
Son of Menoeceus, brother of my queen,
What answer from Apollo dost thou bring?
Creon. Good; for my message is that even our woes,
When brought to their right issue, shall be well.
Oed. What saith the oracle? Thy words so far
Neither embolden nor dishearten me.
Cr. Say, must I tell it with these standing by,
Or go within? I am ready either way.
Oed. Speak forth to all. The burden of their grief
Weighs more on me than my particular fear.
Cr. My lips shall utter what the God hath said.
Sovereign Apollo clearly bids us drive
Forth from this region an accursed thing
(For such is fostered in the land and stains
Our sacred clime), nor cherish it past cure.
Oed. What is the fault, and how to be redressed?
Cr. By exile, or by purging blood with blood.
Since blood it is that shakes us with this storm.
Oed. Whose murder doth Apollo thus reveal?
