 | Oedipus |  |
ACT III.
SCENE I.
A dark Grove.Enter Creon.
Cre.
'Tis better not to be, than to be unhappy.
Dio.
What mean you by these words?
Cre.
'Tis better not to be, than to be Creon.
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But when 'tis great, like mine, and wretched too,
Then every thought draws blood.
Dio.
You are not wretched.
Cre.
I am: my soul's ill married to my body.
I wou'd be young, be handsom, be belov'd:
Cou'd I but but breath my self into Adrastus—
Dio.
You rave; call home your thoughts.
Cre.
I prithee let my soul take air awhile;
Were she in Oedipus, I were a King;
Then I had kill'd a Monster, gain'd a Battel;
And had my Rival pris'ner; brave, brave actions:
Why have not I done these?
Dio.
Your fortune hinder'd.
Cre.
There's it: I have a soul to do 'em all:
But fortune will have nothing done that's great,
But by young handsome fools: Body and brawn
Do all her work: Hercules was a fool,
And straight grew famous: a mad boistrous fool,
Nay worse, a Womans fool.
Fool is the stuff, of which Heav'n makes a Hero.
Dio.
A Serpent ne're becomes a flying Dragon,
Till he has eat a Serpent.
Cre.
Goes it there!
I understand thee; I must kill Adrastus.
Dio.
Or not enjoy your Mistress:
Eurydice and he are pris'ners here,
But will not long be so: this tell-tale Ghost
Perhaps will clear 'em both.
Cre.
Well: 'tis resolv'd.
Dio.
The Princess walks this way;
You must not meet her,
Till this be done.
Cre.
I must.
Dio.
She hates your sight:
And more since you accus'd her.
Cre.
Urge it not.
I cannot stay to tell thee my design;
For she's too near.
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How, Madam, were your thoughts employ'd!
Eur.
On death, and thee.
Cre.
Then were they not well sorted: life and me
Had been the better match.
Eur.
No, I was thinking
On two the most detested things in Nature:
And they are death and thee,
Cre.
The thought of death to one near death is dreadful:
O 'tis a fearful thing to be no more.
Or if to be, to wander after death;
To walk as spirits do, in Brakes all day;
And when the darkness comes, to glide in paths
That lead to Graves: and in the silent Vault,
Where lyes your own pale shrowd, to hover o're it,
Striving to enter your forbidden Corps;
And often, often, vainly breathe your Ghost
Into your lifeless lips:
Then, like a lone benighted Travellour
Shut out from lodging, shall your groans be answer'd
By whistling winds, whose every blast will shake
Your tender Form to Attoms.
Eur.
Must I be this thin Being? and thus wander!
No quiet after death!
Cre.
None: you must leave
This beauteous body; all this youth and freshness
Must be no more the object of desire,
But a cold lump of Clay;
Which then your discontented Ghost will leave,
And loath it's former lodging.
This is the best of what comes after death,
Ev'n to the best.
Eur.
What then shall be thy lot!
Eternal torments, baths of boiling sulphur:
Vicissitudes of fires, and then of frosts;
And an old Guardian Fiend, ugly as thou art,
To hollow in thy ears at every lash;
This for Eurydice; these for her Adrastus.
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For her Adrastus!
Eur.
Yes; for her Adrastus:
For death shall ne're divide us: death, what's death!
Dio.
You seem'd to fear it.
Eur.
But I more fear Creon:
To take that hunch-back'd Monster in my arms.
Th'excrescence of a man.
Dio.
to Cre.
See what you've gain'd.
Eur.
Death only can be dreadful to the bad:
To innocence, 'tis like a bug-bear dress'd
To fright'n Children; pull but off his Masque
And he'll appear a friend.
Cre.
You talk too slightly
Of death and hell. Let me inform you better.
Eur.
You best can tell the news of your own Country.
Dio.
Nay now you are too sharp.
Eur.
Can I be so to one who has accus'd me
Of murder and of parricide?
Cre.
You provok'd me:
And yet I only did thus far accuse you,
As next of blood to Lajus: be advis'd,
And you may live.
Eur.
The means.
Cre.
'Tis offer'd you.
The Fool Adrastus has accus'd himself.
Eur.
He has indeed, to take the guilt from me.
Cre.
He says he loves you; if he does, 'tis well:
He ne're cou'd prove it in a better time.
Eur.
Then death must be his recompence for love!
Cre.
'Tis a Fools just reward:
The wise can make a better use of life:
But 'tis the young mans pleasure; his ambition:
I grudge him not that favour.
Eur.
When he's dead,
Where shall I find his equal!
Cre.
Every-where.
Fine empty things, like him,
The Court swarms with 'em.
Fine fighting things; in Camps they are so common,
Crows feed on nothing else: plenty of Fools;
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And fortune still takes care they shou'd be seen:
She places 'em aloft, o'th' topmost Spoke
Of all her Wheel: Fools are the daily work
Of Nature; her vocation: if she form
A man, she looses by't, 'tis too expensive;
'Twou'd make ten Fools: A man's a Prodigy.
Eur.
That is a Creon: O thou black detractor,
Who spitt'st thy venom against Gods and man!
Thou enemy of eyes:
Thou who lov'st nothing but what nothing loves,
And that's thy self: who hast conspir'd against
My life and fame, to make me loath'd by all;
And only fit for thee.
But for Adrastus death, good Gods, his death!
What Curse shall I invent?
Dio.
No more: he's here.
Eur.
He shall be ever here.
He who wou'd give his life; give up his fame.—
Enter Adrastus.
If all the Excellence of woman-kind
Were mine;—No, 'tis too little all for him:
Were I made up of endless, endless joyes.—
Adr.
And so thou art:
The man who loves like me,
Wou'd think ev'n Infamy, the worst of ills,
Were cheaply purchast, were thy love the price:
Uncrown'd, a Captive, nothing left, but Honour;
'Tis the last thing a Prince shou'd throw away;
But when the storm grows loud, and threatens love,
Throw ev'n that over-board, for Love's the Jewel;
And last it must be kept.
Cre.
to Dio.
Work him be sure
To rage, he's passionate;
Make him th'Aggressor.
Dio.
O false love; false honour.
Cre.
Dissembled both, and false!
Adr.
Dar'st thou say this to me?
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To you; why what are you, that I should fear you?
I am not Lajus: Hear me, Prince of Argos,
You give what's nothing, when you give your honour;
'Tis gone; 'tis lost in battel. For your love,
Vows made in wine are not so false as that:
You kill'd her Father; you confess'd you did:
A mighty argument to prove your passion to the Daughter.
Adrast.
aside.
Gods, must I bear this brand, and not retort
The lye to his foul throat!
Dio.
Basely you kill'd him.
Adr.
aside.
O, I burn inward: my blood's all o'fire.
Alcides, when the poison'd shirt sate closest,
Had but an Ague fit to this my Feaver.
Yet, for Eurydice, ev'n this I'll suffer,
To free my love.—Well then, I kill'd him basely.
Cre.
Fairly, I'm sure, you cou'd not.
Dio.
Nor alone.
Cre.
You had your fellow-Thieves about you, Prince;
They conquer'd, and you kill'd.
Adr:
aside.
Down swelling heart!
'Tis for thy Princess all.—O my Eurydice!—
[To her.
Euryd.
to him.
Reproach not thus the weakness of my Sex,
As if I cou'd not bear a shameful death,
Rather than see you burden'd with a Crime
Of which I know you free.
Cre.
You do ill, Madam,
To let your head-long Love triumph o're Nature:
Dare you defend your Fathers Murderer?
Eur.
You know he kill'd him not.
Cre.
Let him say so.
Dio.
See he stands mute.
Cre.
O pow'r of Conscience, ev'n in wicked men!
It works, it stings, it will not let him utter
One syllable, one no to clear himself
From the most base, detested, horrid act
That e're cou'd stain in a Villain, not a Prince.
Adr.
Ha! Villain.
Dio.
Eccho to him Groves: cry Villain.
Adr.
Let me consider! did I murther Lajus,
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Cre.
Best revoke your words;
And say you kill'd him not.
Adr.
Not like a Villain; prithee change me that
For any other Lye.
Dio.
No, Villain, Villain.
Cre.
You kill'd him not! proclaim your innocence,
Accuse the Princess: So I knew 'twou'd be.
Adr.
I thank thee, thou instruct'st me:
No matter how I kill'd him.
Cre.
aside.
Cool'd again.
Eur.
Thou, who usurp'st the sacred name of Conscience,
Did not thy own declare him innocent;
To me declare him so? The King shall know it.
Cre.
You will not be believ'd, for I'll forswear it.
Eur.
What's now thy Conscience?
Cre.
'Tis my Slave, my Drudge, my supple Glove,
My upper Garment, to put on, throw off,
As I think best: 'Tis my obedient conscience.
Adr.
Infamous wretch!
Cre.
My Conscience shall not do me the ill office
To save a Rivals life; when thou art dead,
(As dead thou shalt be, or be yet more base
Than thou think'st me,
By forfeiting her life, to save thy own.—)
Know this, and let it grate thy very Soul,
She shall be mine: (she is, if Vows were binding;)
Mark me, the fruit of all thy faith and passion,
Ev'n of thy foolish death, shall all be mine.
Adr.
Thine, say'st thou, Monster;
Shall my love be thine?
O, I can bear no more!
Thy cunning Engines, have with labour rais'd
My heavy anger, like a mighty weight,
To fall and pash thee dead.
See here thy Nuptials; see, thou rash Ixion,
[Draws.
Thy promis'd Juno vanish'd in a Cloud;
And in her room avenging Thunder rowls
To blast thee thus.—Come both,—
[Both Draw.
Cre.
'Tis what I wish'd!
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And who's the better Jove.—
[Fight.
Eur.
Help; Murther, help!
Enter Hæmon and Guards, run betwixt them and beat down their Swords.
Hæm.
hold; hold your impious hands: I think the Furies,
To whom this Grove is hallow'd, have inspir'd you:
Now, by my soul, the holiest earth of Thebes
You have profan'd with war. Nor Tree, nor Plant
Grows here, but what is fed with Magick Juice,
All full of humane Souls; that cleave their barks
To dance at Midnight by the Moons pale beams:
At least two hundred years these reverend Shades
Have known no blood, but of black Sheep and Oxen,
Shed by the Priests own hand to Proserpine.
Adr.
Forgive a Strangers ignorance: I knew not
The honours of the place.
Hæm.
Thou, Creon, didst.
Not Oedipus, were all his Foes here lodg'd,
Durst violate the Religion of these Groves,
To touch one single hair: but must, unarm'd,
Parle as in Truce, or surlily avoid
What most he long'd to kill.
Cre.
I drew not first;
But in my own defence.
Adr.
I was provok'd,
Beyond Man's patience: all reproach cou'd urge
Was us'd to kindle one not apt to bear.
Hæm.
'Tis Oedipus, not I, must judge this Act:
Lord Creon, you and Diocles retire:
Tiresias, and the Brother-hood of Priests,
Approach the place: None at these Rites assist,
But you th'accus'd, who by the mouth of Lajus
Must be absolv'd or doom'd.
Adr.
I bear my fortune.
Eur.
And I provoke my tryal.
Hæm.
'Tis at hand.
For see the Prophet comes with Vervin crown'd,
37
We leave you to the Gods.
[Ex. Hæmon with Creon and Diocles.
Enter Tiresias, led by Manto: The Priests follow; all cloathed in long black Habits.
Tir.
Approach, ye Lovers;
I'll-fated Pair! whom, seeing not, I know:
This day your kindly Stars in Heav'n were join'd:
When lo, an envious Planet interpos'd,
And threaten'd both with death: I fear, I fear.
Eur.
Is there no God so much a friend to love,
Who can controle the malice of our fate?
Are they all deaf? or have the Gyants Heav'n?
Tir.
The Gods are just.—
But how can Finite measure Infinite?
Reason! alas, it does not know it self!
Yet Man, vain Man, wou'd with this short-lin'd Plummet,
Fathom the vast Abysse of Heav'nly justice.
What ever is, is in it's causes just;
Since all things are by Fate. But pur-blind Man
Sees but a part o'th' Chain; the nearest links;
His eyes not carrying to that equal Beam
That poizes all above.
Eur.
Then we must dye!
Tir.
The danger's imminent this day.
Adr.
Why then there's one day less for humane ills:
And who wou'd moan himself, for suffering that,
Which in a day must pass? something, or nothing—
I shall be what I was again, before
I was Adrastus;—
Penurious Heav'n canst thou not add a night
To our one day; give me a night with her,
And I'll give all the rest.
Tir.
She broke her vow
First made to Creon: but the time calls on:
And Lajus death must now be made more plain.
How loth I am to have recourse to Rites
So full of horrour, that I once rejoice
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1 Pr.
The Ceremonies stay.
Tir.
Chuse the darkest part o'th' Grove,
Such as Ghosts at noon-day love.
Dig a Trench, and dig it nigh
Where the bones of Lajus lye.
Altars rais'd of Turf or Stone,
Will th'Infernal Pow'rs have none.
Answer me, if this be done?
All Pr.
'Tis done.
Tir.
Is the Sacrifice made fit?
Draw her backward to the pit:
Draw the barren Heyfer back;
Barren let her be and black.
Cut the curled hair that grows
Full betwixt her horns and brows:
And turn your faces from the Sun:
Answer me, if this be done?
All Pr.
'Tis done.
Tir:
Pour in blood, and blood like wine,
To Mother Earth and Proserpine:
Mingle Milk into the stream;
Feast the Ghosts that love the steam;
Snatch a brand from funeral pile;
Toss it in to make 'em boil;
And turn your faces from the Sun;
Answer me, if all be done?
All Pr.
All is done.
[Peal of Thunder; and flashes of Lightning; then groaning below the Stage.
Manto.
O, what Laments are those?
Tir.
The groans of Ghosts, that cleave the Earth with pain:
And heave it up: they pant and stick half way.
[The Stage wholly darkn'd.
Man.
And now a sudden darkness covers all,
True genuine Night: Night added to the Groves;
The Fogs are blown full in the face of Heav'n.
Tir.
Am I but half obey'd: Infernal Gods,
Must you have Musick too? then tune your voices,
And let 'em have such sounds as He'll ne're heard
Since Orpheus brib'd the Shades.
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This to be set through.
1.
Hear, ye sullen Pow'rs below:
Hear, ye taskers of the dead.
2.
You that boiling Cauldrons blow,
You that scum the molten Lead.
3.
You that pinch with Red-hot Tongs;
1.
You that drive the trembling hosts
Of poor, poor Ghosts,
With your Sharpen'd Prongs;
2.
You that thrust 'em off the Brim.
3.
You that plunge 'em when they Swim:
1.
Till they drown;
Till they go
On a row
Down, down, down
Ten thousand thousand, thousand fadoms low.
Chorus.
Till they drown, &c.
1.
Musick for a while
Shall your cares beguile:
Wondring how your pains were eas'd.
2.
And disdaining to be pleas'd;
3.
Till Alecto free the dead
From their eternal bands;
Till the snakes drop from her head,
And whip from out her hands.
1.
Come away
Do not stay,
But obey
While we play,
For Hell's broke up, and Ghosts have holy-day.
Chorus.
Come away, &c.
[A flash of Lightning: the Stage is made bright; and the Ghosts are seen passing betwixt the Trees.
1.
Lajus!
2.
Lajus!
3.
Lajus!
1.
Hear!
2.
Hear!
3.
Hear!
Tir.
Hear and appear:
By the Fates that spun thy thread;
Cho.
Which are three,
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By the Furies fierce, and dread!
Cho.
Which are three,
Tir.
By the Judges of the dead!
Cho.
Which are three,
Three times three!
Tir.
By Hells blew flame:
By the Stygian Lake:
And by Demogorgon's name,
At which Ghosts quake,
Hear and appear.
[The Ghost of Lajus rises arm'd in his Chariot, as he was slain. And behind his Chariot, sit the three who were Murder'd with him.
Ghost of Lajus.
Why hast thou drawn me from pains below,
To suffer worse above: to see the day,
And Thebes more hated? Hell is Heav'n to Thebes.
For pity send me back, where I may hide,
In willing night, this Ignominious head:
In Hell I shun the publick scorn; and then
They hunt me for their sport, and hoot me as I fly:
Behold ev'n now they grin at my gor'd side,
And chatter at my wounds.
Tir.
I pity thee:
Tell but why Thebes is for thy death accurst,
And I'll unbind the Charm.
Ghost.
O spare my shame.
Tir.
Are these two innocent?
Ghost.
Of my death they are.
But he who holds my Crown, Oh, must I speak!
Was doom'd to do what Nature most abhors.
The Gods foresaw it; and forbad his being,
Before he yet was born. I broke their laws,
And cloath'd with flesh his pre-existing soul,
Some kinder pow'r, too weak for destiny,
Took pity, and indu'd his new form'd Mass
With Temperance, Justice, Prudence, Fortitude,
And every Kingly vertue: but in vain.
For Fate, that sent him hood-winckt to the world,
Perform'd its work by his mistaking hands.
Asks thou who murder'd me? 'twas Oedipus:
Who stains my Bed with Incest? Oedipus:
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He comes; the Parricide: I cannot bear him:
My wounds ake at him: Oh his murd'rous breath
Venoms my aiery substance! hence with him,
Banish him; sweep him out; the Plague he bears
Will blast your fields, and mark his way with ruine.
From Thebes, my Throne, my Bed, let him be driv'n;
Do you forbid him Earth, and I'll forbid him Heav'n.
[Ghost descends.
Enter Oedipus, Creon, Hæmon, &c.
Oed.
What's this! methought some pestilential blast
Strook me just entring; and some unseen hand
Struggled to push me backward! tell me why
My hair stands bristling up, why my flesh trembles!
You stare at me! then Hell has been among ye,
And some lag Fiend yet lingers in the Grove.
Tir.
What Omen saw'st thou entring?
Oed.
A young Stork,
That bore his aged Parent on his back;
Till weary with the weight, he shook him off,
And peck'd out both his eyes.
Adr.
Oh, Oedipus!
Eur.
Oh, wretched Oedipus!
Tir.
O! Fatal King!
Oed.
What mean these Exclamations on my name?
I thank the Gods, no secret thoughts reproach me:
No: I dare challenge Heav'n to turn me outward,
And shake my Soul quite empty in your sight.
Then wonder not that I can bear unmov'd
These fix'd regards, and silent threats of eyes:
A generous fierceness dwells with innocence;
And conscious vertue is allow'd some pride.
Tir.
Thou know'st not what thou say'st.
Oed.
What mutters he! tell me, Eurydice:
Thou shak'st: thy souls a Woman. Speak, Adrastus;
And boldly as thou met'st my Arms in fight;
Dar'st thou not speak, why then 'tis bad indeed:
Tiresias, thee I summon by thy Priesthood,
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And who's the guilty head!
Tir.
Let me not answer.
Oed.
Be dumb then, and betray thy native soil
To farther Plagues.
Tir.
I dare not name him to thee.
Oed.
Dar'st thou converse with Hell, and canst thou fear
An humane name!
Tir.
Urge me no more to tell a thing, which known
Wou'd make thee more unhapy: 'twill be found
Tho' I am silent.
Oed.
Old and obstinate! Then thou thy self
Art Author or Accomplice of this murther,
And shun'st the Justice, which by publick ban
Thou hast incurr'd.
Tir.
O, if the guilt were mine
It were not half so great: know, wretched man,
Thou onely, thou art guilty; thy own Curse
Falls heavy on thy self.
Oed.
Speak this again:
But speak it to the Winds when they are loudest:
Or to the raging Seas, they'll hear as soon,
And sooner will believe.
Tir.
Then hear me Heav'n,
For blushing thou hast seen it: hear me Earth,
Whose hollow womb cou'd not contain this murder,
But sent it back to light: and thou Hell, hear me,
Whose down black Seal has firm'd this horrid truth,
Oedipus murther'd Lajus.
Oed.
Rot the tongue,
And blasted be the mouth that spoke that lye.
Thou blind of sight, but thou more blind of soul.
Tir.
Thy Parents thought not so.
Oed.
Who were my Parents?
Tir.
Thou shalt know too soon.
Oed.
Why seek I truth from thee?
The smiles of Courtiers, and the Harlots tears,
The Tradesmans oaths, and mourning of an Heir,
Are truths to what Priests tell.
O why has Priest-hood priviledge to lye,
And yet to be believ'd!—thy age protects thee—
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Thou canst not kill me; 'tis not in thy Fate,
As 'twas to kill thy Father; wed thy Mother;
And beget Sons, thy Brothers.
Oed.
Riddles, Riddles!
Tir.
Thou art thy self a Riddle; a perplext
Obscure Ænigma, which when thou unty'st,
Thou shalt be found and lost.
Oed.
Impossible!
Adrastus, speak, and as thou art a King,
Whose Royal word is sacred, clear my fame.
Adr.
Wou'd I cou'd!
Oed.
Ha, wilt thou not: can that Plebeian vice
Of lying mount to Kings! can they be tainted!
Then truth is lost on earth.
Cre.
The Cheats too gross:
Adrastus is his Oracle, and he,
The pious Juggler, but Adrastus Organ.
Oed.
'Tis plain, the Priest's suborn'd to free the Pris'ner.
Cre.
And turn the guilt on you.
Oed.
O, honest Creon, how hast thou been bely'd?
Eur.
Hear me.
Cre.
She's brib'd to save her Lover's life.
Adr.
If Oedipus thou think'st—
Cre.
Hear him not speak.
Adr.
Then hear these holy men.
Cre.
Priests, Priests all brib'd, all Priests.
Oed.
Adrastus I have found thee:
The malice of a vanquish'd man has seiz'd thee.
Adr.
If Envy and not Truth—
Oed.
I'll hear no more: away with him.
[Hœmon takes him off by force: Creon and Eurydice follow.
To Tir.
Why stand'st thou here, Impostor!
So old, and yet so wicked.—lye for gain;
And gain so short as age can promise thee!
Tir.
So short a time as I have yet to live
Exceeds thy pointed hour; Remember Lajus:
No more; if e're we meet again, 'twill be
In Mutual darkness; we shall feel before us
To reach each others hand; Remember Lajus.
[Ex. Tiresias: Priests follow.
44
Solus.
Remember Lajus! that's the burden still:
Murther, and Incest! but to hear 'em nam'd
My Soul starts in me: the good Sentinel
Stands to her Weapons; takes the first Alarm
To Guard me from such Crimes.—Did I kill Lajus?
Then I walk'd sleeping, in some frightful dream,
My Soul then stole my Body out by night;
And brought me back to Bed e're Morning-wake.
It cannot be ev'n this remotest way,
But some dark hint would justle forward now;
And goad my memory.—Oh my Jocasta!
Enter Jocasta.
Joc.
Why are you thus disturb'd?
Oed.
Why, would'st thou think it?
No less than Murther?
Joc.
Murder! what of Murder?
Oed.
Is Murder then no more? add Parricide,
And Incest; bear not these a frightful sound?
Joc.
Alas!
Oed.
How poor a pity is Alas
For two such Crimes!—was Lajus us'd to lye?
Joc.
Oh no: the most sincere, plain, honest man.—
One who abhorr'd a lye.
Oed.
Then he has got that Quality in Hell.
He charges me—but why accuse I him?
I did not hear him speak it: they accuse me;
The Priest, Adrastus, and Eurydice,
Of Murdering Lajus—Tell me, while I think on't,
Has old Tiresias practis'd long this Trade?
Joc.
What Trade?
Oed.
Why, this foretelling Trade.
Joc.
For many years.
Oed.
Has he before this day accus'd me?
Joc.
Never.
Oed.
Have you e're this inquir'd, who did this Murder?
Joc.
Often; but still in vain.
Oed.
I am satisfy'd.
45
The Oracle takes place before the Priest;
The blood of Lajus was to Murder Lajus:
I'm not of Lajus's blood.
Joc.
Ev'n Oracles
Are always doubtful, and are often forg'd:
Lajus had one, which never was fulfill'd,
Nor ever can be now!
Oed.
And what foretold it?
Joc.
That he shou'd have a Son by me, fore-doom'd
The Murderer of his Father: true indeed,
A Son was born; but, to prevent that Crime,
The wretched Infant of a guilty Fate,
Bor'd through his untry'd feet, and bound with cords,
On a bleak Mountain, naked was expos'd:
The King himself liv'd many, many years,
And found a different Fate; by Robbers Murder'd,
Where three ways meet: yet these are Oracles;
And this the Faith we owe 'em.
Oed.
Sayst thou, Woman?
By Heav'n thou hast awakn'd somewhat in me,
That shakes my very Soul!
Joc.
What, new disturbance!
Oed.
Methought thou said'st,—(or do I dream thou said'st it!)
This Murder was on Lajus person done,
Where three ways meet?
Joc.
So common Fame reports.
Oed.
Wou'd it had ly'd.
Joc.
Why, good my Lord?
Oed.
No questions:
'Tis busie time with me; dispatch mine first;
Say where, where was it done!
Joc.
Mean you the Murder?
Oed.
Coud'st thou not answer without naming Murder?
Joc.
They say in Phocide; on the Verge that parts it
From Daulia, and from Delphos.
Oed.
So!—How long! when happen'd this!
Joc.
Some little time before you came to Thebes.
Oed.
What will the Gods do with me!
Joc.
What means that thought?
46
Something: but 'tis not yet your turn to ask:
How old was Lajus, what his shape, his stature,
His action, and his meen? quick, quick, your answer—
Joc.
Big made he was, and tall: his port was fierce,
Erect his countenance: Manly Majesty
Sate in his front, and darted from his eyes,
Commanding all he viewed: his hair just grizled,
As in a green old age: bate but his years,
You are his picture.
Oed.
aside.
Pray Heav'n he drew me not? am I his picture?
Joc.
So I have often told you.
Oed.
True, you have;
Add that to the rest: how was the King
Attended when he travell'd?
Joc.
By four Servants:
He went out privately.
Oed.
Well counted still:
One scap'd I hear; what since became of him?
Joc.
When he beheld you first, as King in Thebes,
He kneel'd, and trembling beg'd I wou'd dismiss him:
He had my leave; and now he lives retir'd.
Oed.
This Man must be produc'd; he must, Jocasta.
Joc.
He shall—yet have I leave to ask you why?
Oed.
Yes, you shall know: for where should I repose
The anguish of my Soul; but in your breast!
I need not tell you Corinth claims my birth;
My Parents, Polybus and Merope,
Two Royal Names; their only Child am I.
It happen'd once; 'twas at a Bridal Feast,
One warm with Wine, told me I was a Foundling,
Not the Kings Son; I stung with this reproach,
Strook him: my Father, heard of it: the Man
Was made ask pardon; and the business hush'd.
Joc.
'Twas somewhat odd.
Oed.
And strangely it perplext me.
I stole away to Delphos, and implor'd
The God, to tell my certain Parentage.
He bade me seek no farther:—'twas my Fate
To kill my Father, and pollute his Bed,
By marrying her who bore me.
47
Vain, vain Oracles!
Oed.
But yet they frighted me;
I lookt on Corinth as a place accurst,
Resolv'd my destiny should wait in vain;
And never catch me there.
Joc.
Too nice a fear.
Oed.
Suspend your thoughts; and flatter not too soon.
Just in the place you nam'd, where three ways meet,
And near that time, five persons I encounter'd;
One was too like, (Heav'n grant it prove not him)
Whom you describe for Lajus: insolent
And fierce they were, as Men who liv'd on spoil.
I judg'd 'em Robbers, and by force repell'd
The force they us'd: In short, four men I slew:
The fifth upon his knees demanding Life,
My mercy gave it.—bring me comfort now,
If I slew Lajus, what can be more wretched!
From Thebes and you my Curse has banish'd me:
From Corinth Fate.
Joc.
Perplex not thus your mind;
My Husband fell by Multitudes opprest,
So Phorbas said: this Band you chanc'd to meet;
And murder'd not my Lajus, but reveng'd him.
Oed.
There's all my hope: Let Phorbas tell me this,
And I shall live again!—
To you, good Gods, I make my last appeal;
Or clear my Vertues or my Crime reveal:
If wandring in the maze of Fate I run,
And backward trod the paths I sought to shun,
Impute my Errours to your own Decree;
My hands are guilty, but my heart is free.
[Ex. Ambo.
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