For with the god’s help our good fortune—or our ruin—will be made certain.PriestMy children, let us rise. What we came to seek, this man promises of his own accord. And may Phoebus, who sent these oracles,come to us as savior and deliverer from the pestilence.

The chorus of Theban elders enters.ChorusO sweetly-speaking message of Zeus, in what spirit have you come to glorious Thebes from golden Pytho? I am on the rack, terror shakes my soul, O Delian healer to whom wild cries rise,