"Surely this is no common babe, but a child of the Immortals. His hair is golden as the summer corn, and his eyes like the stars in heaven. What if the gods have sent him to comfort our old age, and rule the kingdom when we are dead? I will rear him in the palace as my own son, and he shall be a prince in the land of Corinth." So the child lived in the palace, and became a son to Polybus and Merope, and heir to the kingdom. For want of a name they called him OEdipus, because his ankles, when they found him, were all swollen by the pin that the herdsman had put through them. As he grew up, he found favour in all men's eyes, for he was tall and comely and cunning withal. "The gods are gracious," men said, "to grant the king such a son, and the people of Corinth so mighty a prince, to rule over them in days to come." For as yet they knew not that he was a foundling, and no true heir to the throne. Now, while the child was still young, he played about the courts of the palace, and in running and leaping and in feats of strength and hardihood of heart there was none to beat him among his playmates, or even to stand up against him, save one. But so well matched were these two, that the other children would gather round them in a ring to watch them box and wrestle, and the victor they would carry on their shoulders round the echoing galleries with shouting and clapping of hands; and sometimes it was OEdipus, and sometimes the other lad. But at length there came a time when again and again OEdipus was proved the stronger, and again and again the other slunk home beaten, like a cur that has been whipped: and he brooded over his defeat, and nourished hatred in his heart against OEdipus, and vowed that one day he would have his revenge by fair means or by foul.