CHORUS.[165] Of noble birth is the offspring of Latona, whom once on a time in the fruitful valleys of Delos, Phoebus with his golden locks, skilled on the lyre, (and she who rejoices in skill of the bow,) his mother bore while yet an infant[166] from the sea-side rock, leaving the renowned place of her delivery, destitute of waters,[167] the Parnassian height haunted by Bacchus, where the ruddy-visaged serpent, with spotted back, + brazen + beneath the shady laurel with its rich foliage, an enormous prodigy of the earth, guarded the subterranean oracle.  Him thou, O Phoebus, while yet an infant, while yet leaping in thy dear mother’s arms, didst slay, and entered upon thy divine oracles, and thou sittest on the golden tripod, on the throne that is ever true, distributing to mortals prophecies from the divine adyts beneath the Castalian streams, dwelling hard by, occupying a dwelling in the middle of the earth.[168] But when, having gone against Themis, daughter of earth, he expelled her from the divine oracles, earth begot dark phantoms of dreams, which to many mortals explain what first, what afterward, what in future will happen, during their sleep in the couches of the dusky earth.[169] But + the earth + deprived Phoebus of the honor of prophecies, through anger on her daughter’s account, and the swift-footed king, hastening to Olympus, stretched forth his little hand to the throne of Jove.[170] [beseeching him] to take away the earth-born[171] wrath of the Goddess, + and the nightly responses. + But he laughed, because his son had come quickly to him, wishing to obtain the wealthy office, and he shook his hair, and put an end to the nightly dreams,[172] and took away nightly divination from mortals, and again conferred the honor on Loxias, and confidence to mortals from the songs of oracles [proclaimed] on this throne, thronged to by many strangers.[173]

[Enter A MESSENGER.]

MESS.  O ye guardians of the temple and presidents of the altars, where in this land has king Thoas gone?  Do ye, opening the well-fastened gates, call the ruler of this land outside the house.

CHOR.  But what is it, if I may speak when I am not bidden?

MESS.  The two youths have escaped, and are gone by the contrivances of Agamemnon’s daughter, endeavoring to fly from this land, and taking the sacred image in the bosom of a Grecian ship.

CHOR.  Thou tellest an incredible story, but the king of this country, whom you wish to see, is gone, having quitted the temple.

MESS.  Whither?  For he needs must know what has been done.

CHOR.  We know not.  But go thou and pursue him to wheresoever, having met with him, thou mayest recount this news.

MESS.  See, how faithless is the female race! and ye are partners in what has been done.

CHOR.  Art thou mad?  What have we to do with the flight of the strangers?  Will you not go as quickly as possible to the gates of the rulers?