OEDIPUS My children, the newest to descend from ancient Kadmos into my care: why have you rushed here , to these seats, your wool-strung boughs begging for god's help? Our city is oppressed with incense smoke and cries of mourners and prayers sung to the Healing God. I thought it wrong to let messengers speak for you, my sons, I must hear 10 your words myself, so I have come out, I, Oedipus, the name that all men know. Speak to me, old man. Yours is the natural voice for the rest. What concerns drive you to me? Fear? Reassurance? Be certain I will give all the help I can. I would be hard indeed if I didn't pity those who approach me like this.
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PRIEST You rule my country, Oedipus, and you see 20 who comes to your altars, how mixed we are in years: children too weak to travel far, old men worn down by age, priests like myself, the priest of Zeus, a picked group of our best young men. More of us wait with wool-strung boughs in the markets, or at Athena's two temples, or watch the embers at Ismenus' shrine for the glow of prophecy. You can see for yourself 30 our city going under, too weak to lift its head clear of each deadly surge. Plague is killing our flowering farmland, it's killing our grazing cattle. Our women in labor give birth to nothing. A burning god rakes his fire through our city; he hates us with fever, he empties the House of Kadmosbut he makes black Hades rich, with our groans and tears. 40 We don't believe you are the gods' equal, King, but I, and these children, ask help here, at your hearth, because we put you first, of all men, at handling troubleor confronting gods. You came to Thebes, you broke us free
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