Chorus (looking towards Athens).
Come, my chief! come with speed! Or, if haply at hand, II 2
On the height where the curved altars stand,
Thou art hallowing with oxen in sacrifice slain
Yonder shrine of Poseidon, dread lord of the main,
Hie thee hither! Be swift! The blind stranger intends
To thee, to thy friends,
To thy city, for burdens imposed, just amends.
Haste thee. King! Hear our cry!
Enter Theseus.
The. Why sounds again from hence your joint appeal,
Wherein the stranger’s voice is loudly heard?
Is it some lightning-bolt new-fallen from Zeus,
Or cloud-born hail that is come rattling down?
From Heavens so black with storm nought can surprise.
Oed. Prince, thou art come to my desire. Some God
Hath happily directed this thy way.
The. What is befallen? Son of Laius, tell!
Oed. My path slopes downward, and before my death
I would confirm to Athens and to thee
My promised boon.
The. What sign dost thou perceive
That proves thine end so near?
Oed. The Gods themselves
With herald voices are proclaiming it,
Nought failing of the fore-appointed signs.
The. What are these tokens, aged monarch, say?
Oed. The loud continual thunder, and the darts
That flash in volleys from the unconquered hand.
The. I may not doubt thee; for thy speech, I feel,
Hath ample witness of prophetic power.
What must I do?
Oed. I will instruct thee now,
Aegeus’ great son! in rites that shall remain
An ageless treasure to thy countrymen.
I will presently, with no man guiding me,
Conduct thee to the spot, where I must die.
