Herdsman. I was: not a bought slave, but reared up in the house.
Oedipus. What was your work—your manner of life?
Herdsman. For the best part of my life I have tended flocks.
Oedipus. Where, mainly?
Herdsman. Cythaeron or its neighbourhood.
Oedipus. Do you remember meeting with this man there?
Herdsman. What man do you mean?
Oedipus. This man. Did you ever meet him?
Herdsman. I cannot recall him to mind.
Messenger. No wonder in that, master; but I will bring back his memory. He and I lived side by side upon Cythaeron. I had but one flock and he had two. Three full half-years we lived there, from spring to autumn, and every winter I drove my flock to my own fold, while he drove his to the fold of Laius. Is that right? Was it not so?
Herdsman. True enough; though it was long ago.
Messenger. Come, tell me now—do you remember giving me a boy to rear as my own foster-son?
Herdsman. What are you saying? Why do you ask me that?
