One afternoon Oedipus approached Creon and asked if he might have a private word with him. “It’s your sister Jocasta,” he said. “We’ve fallen in love. I know she is older than me, but—” “My dear fellow!” Creon grasped him warmly by the hand. “Do you think I’m blind? I saw from the first that there was something between you. Eros shot from his bow the moment you met. I couldn’t be happier. And Oedipus . . . if you are to marry the queen, why, you must be crowned king.” “Sir, I wouldn’t for a moment wish to usurp your—” “‘Usurp’ poppycock. And no ‘sirs,’ brother. A young king is just what the
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