University of Virginia Library

[Scene 1.]

Enter Oedipus attended, to the High Priest and a Train of Children & Young Men who are kneiling before an Altar placed at the Gates of the Palace.
Oed.
What mean these solemn Rites, these plaintive Sounds?
This Altar rear'd before my Palace Gates?
This train of Suppliants clad in mournful Weeds
And prostrate on the Ground? My Children speak,
Unhappy Youths from royal Cadmus sprung,
Why doth the Incense fume in every Street,
And round us Groans and Lamentations rise?
I could not stay to learn from other hands
My People's Grief, a Partner in your woe
I come my self, the far-fam'd Oedipus
Your great Deliverer. But thou, good old man,
Before whose reverend Age in decent awe
These youths are silent, speak thou Holy Priest
A Monarch is your Friend, whose heart bleeds for you
And for his Thebans feels a Father's care.

H. P.
O Oedipus whose hand the Sceptre sways
Of ancient Thebes, the Youths who lie before thee
Are helpless Heirs of many a noble House,
These aged Men devoted to the Gods,
And I the Priest of mighty Jupiter.
Our Citizens around Minerva's Shrines
Implore her aid, or near the awful Tomb
Where the dead bones of great Irmenus lie
Burn fragrant Odours, and consult their Fate
In his prophetick Flames. Thou see'st all Thebes
Lies tossing like the tempest-beaten Bark
Abandon'd to despair. The Fields are waste
From barren Autumns, and a blighted Spring,
A Murrain sweeps our Flocks and Herds away,
And our sad Matrons o'er their dead-born Babes
Lament their fruitless pain. A curse hangs o'er us
A Fire devours us, a fierce Pestilence
That secret walks unpeoples half our Tribes.
And ev'ry hour with peals of Theban Groans
Glads the grim King of Hell. We sue to Thee
Not as a God, but as the first of Men,
Belov'd of Heav'n and of the Gods inspir'd
Whose Wisdome, not untry'd in evil days,
From Sphinx the Monster sav'd th' afflicted Realm
Once our Deliverer to the Gods again
In pious supplication lift thy hands,
And draw down thence the Knowledge and the cure
Of all our Woes. Remember oh remember
A Monarch's Grandeur in his People lies,
They form his Pride in Peace, his Strength in War,
And stand the firmest Rampart round a Throne.

Oed.
Too well, my Sons, I know and mourn your woes,
If singly hard to be endur'd by You
How then by Me, who in one breast sustain
Your Griefs and mine, and feel for all the land!
Think not oh think not that your piercing Cries
Have broke my sleep, or chaced my pleasing Dreams.
All night my Eyes have swom in tears, all night
My Breast has heav'd with sorrows not my own.
What could I do? Before the morning-dawn
To great Apollo's Fane by my command
My Brother Creon went to seek the God.
Before the morning-dawn he went, and now
Methinks he laggs; my mind impatient burns
To know what Fate would have. Despise me, Thebes,
Call me the worst, the vilest of mankind,
If I not act or suffer for thy sake,
For thy lov'd sake, whate'er the God decrees.

H. P.
With a blest voice and in a lucky hour
The King names Creon. See he comes.

Oed.
He comes.
Thou God of Wisdom, Regent of the Day,
Glad be his Tidings as his Looks are glad.

H. P.
The Lawrels twin'd around his Brows declare
His Tidings happy.