PR. Lo, in good time, crowning thy gracious word,
’Tis told me by these youths, Creon draws near.
OED. Apollo! may his coming be as blest
With saving fortune, as his looks are bright.
PR. Sure he brings joyful news; else had he ne’er
Worn that full wreath of thickly-berried bay.
OED. We have not long to doubt. He can hear now.
Enter CREON.
Son of Menoeceus, brother of my queen,
What answer from Apollo dost thou bring?
CREON. Good; for my message is that even our woes,
When brought to their right issue, shall be well.
OED. What saith the oracle? Thy words so far
Neither embolden nor dishearten me.
CR. Say, must I tell it with these standing by,
Or go within? I am ready either way.
OED. Speak forth to all. The burden of their grief
Weighs more on me than my particular fear.