Chorus
Oedipus’ nurse, mountain of many a hidden glen,
Be honoured among men;
A famous man, deep thoughted, and his body strong;
Be honoured in dance and song.
Who met in the hidden glen? Who let his fancy run
Upon nymph of Helicon?
Lord Pan or Lord Apollo or the mountain Lord,
By the Bacchantes adored?
Oedipus. If I, who have never met the man, may venture to say so, I think that the herdsman we await approaches; his venerable age matches with this stranger’s, and I recognise as servants of mine those who bring him. But you, if you have seen the man before, will know the man better than I.
Chorus. Yes, I know the man who is coming; he was indeed in Laius’ service, and is still the most trusted of the herdsmen.
Oedipus. I ask you first, Corinthian stranger, is this the man you mean?
Messenger. He is the very man.
Oedipus. Look at me, old man! Answer my questions. Were you once in Laius’ service?
