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114 sight, worthy are thy city and thy folk, that he should render a just recompense for benefits. Haste, come quickly, O king!

. Wherefore once more rings forth a summons from you all,—from my people as clearly as from our guest? Can a thunderbolt from Zeus be the cause, or rushing hail in its fierce onset? All forebodings may find place, when the god sends such a storm.

. King, welcome is thy presence; and 'tis some god that hath made for thee the good fortune of this coming.

. And what new thing hath now befallen, son of Laïus?

. My life hangs in the scale: and I fain would die guiltless of bad faith to thee and to this city, in respect of my pledges.

. And what sign of thy fate holds thee in suspense?

. The gods, their own heralds, bring me the tidings, with no failure in the signs appointed of old.

. What sayest thou are the signs of these things, old man?

. The thunder, peal on peal,—the lightning, flash on flash, hurled from the unconquered hand.

. Thou winnest my belief, for in much I find thee a prophet whose voice is not false;—then speak what must be done.

. Son of Aegeus, I will unfold that which shall be a treasure for this thy city, such as age can never