The audience may be struck by hearing the priest mention the range of human ages so soon after Oidipous’s implicit reference to his solution of the Sphinx’s riddle. Supposing that the priest cannot have intended to make an allusion to the Sphinx, the audience may realize that the priest’s words, like those of Oidipous, carry a significance of which he is unaware; they exhibit the same understanding of human growth, development, and aging that was fundamental to Oidipous’s successful solution of the Sphinx’s riddle. In pointing out to Oidipous that he can see men’s ages the priest reveals that the knowledge that made Oidipous famous was based on visible chatacteristics. There is, then, nothing extraordinary in it. That his great feat in besting the Sphinx was based on commonplace understanding diminishes the regard in which Oidipous’s perspicacity should be held. The wonder is that nobody else could see the answer to the Sphinx’s riddle. Oidipous’s gift, then, lies not in the possession of extraordinary knowledge, but in making use of common knowledge in an extraordinary circumstance. On the other hand, the audience’s awareness that what Oidipous can is obvious prompts it to consider those matters that he so conspicuously fails to see: the terrible deeds that he has himself committed. This limitation further diminishes the audience’s esteem for him. Both what Oidipous can and cannot see suggest that nothing is nearly as evident as it should be. This raises the question, for the audience, how the problem of shortsightedness is to be overcome. At the same time, the double entendre invites the audience to participate in a communicative exchange that promises to enable it to see more clearly. [Gd] [Mp]