Translated by F. Storr. From the Loeb Library Edition, Originally published by Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA and William Heinemann Ltd, London. First published in 1912.
Oedipus:
O King Apollo! may his joyous looks
Be presage of the joyous news he brings!
Priest:
As I surmise, 'tis welcome; else his head
Had scarce been crowned with berry-laden bays.
Oedipus:
We soon shall know; he's now in earshot range.
[Enter Creon]
My royal cousin, say, Menoeceus' child,
What message hast thou brought us from the god?
Creon:
Good news, for e'en intolerable ills,
Finding right issue, tend to naught but good.
Oedipus:
How runs the oracle? thus far thy words
Give me no ground for confidence or fear.
Creon:
If thou wouldst hear my message publicly,
I'll tell thee straight, or with thee pass within.
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