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Chorus At last came Oedipus, the man of sorrow, sent from Delphi to this land of Thebes, a joy to us then, but afterwards a cause of grief; for, when he guessed the riddle triumphantly, he formed with his mother an unhallowed union, woe to him! polluting the city; and striking down his sons by his curses, he handed them over to loathsome strife, through blood, the wretched man. We admire him, we admire him, who has gone to his death in his country's cause, leaving tears to Creon, but bringing a crown of victory to our seven fenced towers. May we be mothers in this way, may we have such fair children, dear PalIas, you who with well-aimed stone spilled the serpent's blood, rousing Cadmus to brood upon the task, from which a demon's curse swooped upon this land and ravaged it.