Theseus, Creon, and the rescue

Theseus, having seen what is in front of him, does not waste many words. The elders had told him, on his way, what Creon was doing. He repeats it back. Creon has come into Athenian territory under the laws of guests, and within an hour has abducted two suppliants from a sanctuary. The accusation is precise. Creon makes the case Sophocles knows the audience expected: Oedipus is the most polluted man in Greek myth; what city would defend him? Theseus answers without rising to it. The pollution is a matter for the gods. The laws of xenia are a matter for him. He will not let a guest break them in his country.

Theseus turns to Creon. Show me where your men took the girls, he says. We are going. Creon protests; Theseus is not interested. They will ride out together. If your men have outpaced us, Theseus says, my cavalry will catch them before they leave the country. As they go, Theseus pauses at the door. To Oedipus, briefly: stay here. Nothing short of my death will keep me from bringing the girls back. The two men go.

The chorus stays with Oedipus on the ledge. They sing the rescue they cannot see — a song full of imagined motion. They picture the cavalry of Athens cresting the white cliffs of Oea, the bridles flashing in the sun, every horseman charging, Theseus at the head. They imagine the raiders turning at bay and the fight in the open. They wish they had wings, like a dove on the wind, to be carried up to a high cloud and watch from there. The song is a long unrolling of confidence in what Theseus is and what Athens is. It ends with the cavalry approaching the glen and the captive girls about to be freed.