Oedipus the King

Parode (chorus)

The children ran in front to the city. They told about the speech held by the priest of Zeus and about the message from Delphi. Some heard it and got tense, others shivered with fear. What had Apollo said? For what did he ask? The death of a man? A sacrifice? And yet, in this rumor was hope.

Everywhere, people prayed. To Athene, the daughter of Zeus, who would live forever. To her sister Artemis, protector of the land, she who had a throne on the market square. To Apollo, who shoots thunderbolts with his bow from high in the sky. If you have ever helped us in the past, if you would ever help us again, please help us now.

The sorrows were countless. The plague spared no one. High and low were ill, and the best minds found no cure. Nothing grew in the fields, people were starving. Pregnant women bore babies that were already dead. Death was everywhere, fetching soul after soul to the underworld in flocks like birds. Corpses lay unburied, rotting on roads and in ditches, with no one to miss them. Mourning wives and graying mothers clung to the altars. Over the hymns, their wailing was heard. Daughter of Zeus, please send us a cure.

Then the word reached out. The people of Thebes answered the call from Oedipus, their king, and walked towards the royal palace.