 | Oedipus |  |
1
ACT. I.
SCENE Thebes.The Curtain rises to a plaintive Tune, representing the present condition of Thebes; Dead Bodies appear at a distance in the Streets; Some faintly go over the Stage, others drop.
Enter Alcander, Diocles, Pyracmon.
Alc.
Methinks we stand on Ruines; Nature shakes
About us; and the Universal Frame
So loose, that it but wants another push
To leap from off its Hindges.
Dioc.
No Sun to chear us; but a Bloody Globe
That rowls above; a bald and Beamless Fire;
His Face o're-grown with Scurf: the Sun's sick too;
Shortly he'll be an Earth.
Pyr.
Therefore the Seasons
Lye all confus'd; and, by the Heaven's neglected,
Forget themselves: Blind Winter meets the Summer
In his Mid-way, and, seeing not his Livery,
Has driv'n him headlong back: And the raw damps
With flaggy Wings fly heavily about,
Scattering their Pestilential Colds and Rheumes
Through all the lazy Air.
Alc.
Hence Murrains follow'd
On bleating Flocks, and on the lowing Herds:
At last, the Malady
Grew more domestick, and the faithful Dog
Dy'd at his Masters Feet.
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And next his Master:
For all those Plagues which Earth and Air had brooded,
First on inferiour Creatures try'd their force;
And last they seiz'd on man.
Pyr.
And then a thousand deaths at once advanc'd,
And every Dart took place; all was so sudden,
That scarce a first man fell; one but began
To wonder, and straight fell a wonder too;
A third, who stoop'd to raise his dying Friend,
Dropt in the pious Act. Heard you that groan?
[Groan within.
Dioc.
A Troop of Ghosts took flight together there:
Now Death's grown riotous, and will play no more
For single Stakes, but Families and Tribes:
How are we sure we breath not now our last,
And that next minute,
Our Bodies cast into some common Pit,
Shall not be built upon, and overlaid
By half a people.
Alc.
There's a Chain of Causes
Link'd to Effects; invincible Necessity
That what e're is, could not but so have been;
That's my security.
To them, enter Creon.
Creon.
So had it need, when all our Streets lye cover'd
With dead and dying men;
And Earth exposes Bodies on the Pavements
More than she hides in Graves!
Betwixt the Bride and Bridegroom have I seen
The Nuptial Torch do common offices
Of Marriage and of Death.
Dioc.
Now, Oedipus,
(If he return from War, our other plague)
Will scarce find half he left, to grace his Triumphs.
Pyr.
A feeble Pæan will be sung before him.
Alc.
He would do well to bring the Wives and Children
Of conquer'd Argians, to renew his Thebes.
Creon.
May Funerals meet him at the City Gates
With their detested Omen.
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Of his Children.
Creon.
Nay, though she be my Sister, of his Wife.
Alc.
O that our Thebes might once again behold
A Monarch Theban born!
Dioc.
We might have had one.
Pyr.
Yes, had the people pleas'd.
Creon.
Come, y'are my Friends:
The Queen my Sister, after Lajus's death,
Fear'd to lye single; and supply'd his place
With a young Successour.
Dioc.
He much resembles
Her former Husband too;
Alc.
I always thought so.
Pyr.
When twenty Winters more have grizzl'd his black Locks
He will be very Lajus.
Creon.
So he will:
Mean time she stands provided of a Lajus
More young and vigorous too, by twenty Springs.
These Women are such cunning Purveyors!
Mark where their Appetites have once been pleas'd,
The same resemblance in a younger Lover
Lyes brooding in their Fancies the same Pleasures,
And urges their remembrance to desire.
Dioc.
Had merit, not her dotage, been consider'd,
Then Creon had been King; but Oedipus,
A stranger!
Creon.
That word stranger, I confess
Sounds harshly in my Ears.
Dioc.
We are your Creatures.
The people prone, as in all general ills,
To sudden change; the King in Wars abroad,
The Queen a Woman weak and unregarded;
Eurydice the Daughter of dead Lajus,
A Princess young and beautious, and unmarried.
Methinks from these disjointed propositions
Something might be produc'd.
Creon.
The Gods have done
Their part, by sending this commodious plague.
But oh the Princess! her hard heart is shut
By Adamantine Locks against my Love.
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Your claim to her is strong: you are betroth'd.
Pyr.
True; in her Nonage.
Alc.
But that let's remov'd.
Dioc.
I heard the Prince of Argos, young Adrastus.
When he was hostage here.—
Creon.
Oh name him not! the bane of all my hopes;
That hot-brain'd, head-long Warriour, has the Charms
Of youth, and somewhat of a lucky rashness,
To please a Woman yet more Fool than he.
That thoughtless Sex is caught by outward form
And empty noise, and loves it self in man.
Alc.
But since the War broke out about our Frontiers,
He's now a Foe to Thebes.
Creon.
But is not so to her; see, she appears;
Once more I'll prove my Fortune: you insinuate
Kind thoughts of me into the multitude;
Lay load upon the Court; gull 'em with freedom;
And you shall see 'em toss their Tails, and gad,
As if the Breeze had stung 'em.
Dioc.
We'll about it.
[Exeunt Alcander, Diocles, Pyracmon.
Enter Euridice.
Creon.
Hail, Royal Maid; thou bright Eurydice!
A lavish Planet reign'd when thou wert born;
And made thee of such kindred mold to Heaven,
Thou seem'st more Heaven's than ours.
Euryd.
Cast round your Eyes;
Where late the Streets were so thick sown with men,
Like Cadmus Brood they justled for the passage:
Now look for those erected heads, and see 'em
Like Pebbles paving all our publick ways:
When you have thought on this, then answer me,
If these be hours of Courtship.
Creon.
Yes, they are;
For when the Gods destroy so fast, 'tis time
We should renew the Race.
Euryd.
What, in the midst of horrour!
Creon.
Why not then?
There's the more need of comfort.
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Impious Creon!
Creon.
Unjust Eurydice! can you accuse me
Of love, which is Heaven's precept, and not fear
That Vengeance, which you say pursues our Crimes,
Should reach your Perjuries?
Euryd.
Still th'old Argument.
I bad you, cast your eyes on other men,
Now cast 'em on your self: think what you are.
Creon.
A Man.
Euryd.
A Man!
Creon.
Why doubt you? I'm a man.
Euryd.
'Tis well you tell me so, I should mistake you
For any other part o'th' whole Creation,
Rather than think you man: hence from my sight,
Thou poyson to my eyes.
Creon.
'Twas you first poison'd mine; and yet methinks,
My face and person shou'd not make you sport.
Euryd.
You force me, by your importunities,
To shew you what you are.
Creon.
A Prince, who loves you:
And since your pride provokes me, worth your love,
Ev'n at its highest value.
Euryd.
Love from thee!
Why love renounc'd thee e're thou saw'st the light:
Nature her self start back when thou wert born;
And cry'd, the work's not mine:—
The Midwife stood aghast; and when she saw
Thy Mountain back and thy distorted legs,
Thy face it self,
Half-minted with the Royal stamp of man;
And half o're-come with beast, stood doubting long,
Whose right in thee were more:
And knew not, if to burn thee in the flames,
Were not the holier work.
Creon.
Am I to blame if Nature threw my body
In so perverse a mould? yet when she cast
Her envious hand upon my supple joints,
Unable to resist, and rumpled 'em
On heaps in their dark lodging, to revenge
Her bungled work she stampt my mind more fair:
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The God strook fire, and lighted up the Lamps
That beautify the sky, so he inform'd
This ill-shap'd body with a daring soul:
And making less than man, he made me more.
Euryd.
No; thou art all one errour; soul and body.
The first young tryal of some unskill'd Pow'r;
Rude in the making Art, and Ape of Jove.
Thy crooked mind within hunch'd out thy back;
And wander'd in thy limbs: to thy own kind
Make love, if thou canst find it in the world:
And seek not from our Sex to raise an off-spring,
Which, mingled with the rest, would tempt the Gods
To cut off humane Kind.
Creon.
No; let 'em leave
The Argian Prince for you: that Enemy
Of Thebes has made you false, and break the Vows
You made to me.
Euryd.
They were my Mothers Vows,
Made when I was at Nurse.
Creon.
But hear me, Maid;
This blot of Nature, this deform'd, loath'd Creon,
Is Master of a Sword, to reach the blood
Of your young Minion, spoil the Gods fine work,
And stab you in his heart.
Euryd.
This when thou dost,
Then mayst thou still be curs'd with loving me:
And, as thou art, be still unpitied, loath'd;
And let his Ghost—No let his Ghost have rest;
But let the greatest, fiercest, foulest Fury,
Let Creon haunt himself.
[Exit Eurydice.
Creon.
Tis true, I am
What she has told me, an offence to sight:
My body opens inward to my soul,
And lets in day to make my Vices seen
By all discerning eyes, but the blind vulgar.
I must make haste er'e Oedipus return,
To snatch the Crown and her; for I still love;
But love with malice; as an angry Cur
Snarles while he feeds, so will I seize and stanch
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And leave the scraps for Slaves.
Enter Tiresias, leaning on a staff, and led by his Daughter Manto.
What makes this blind prophetick Fool abroad!
Wou'd his Appollo had him, he's too holy
For Earth and me; I'll shun his walk; and seek
My popular friends.
[Exit Creon.
Tiresias.
A little farther; yet a little farther,
Thou wretched Daughter of a dark old man,
Conduct my weary steps: and thou who seest
For me and for thy self, beware thou tread not
With impious steps upon dead corps;—Now stay:
Methinks I draw more open, vital air,
Where are we?
Manto.
Under Covert of a wall:
The most frequented once, and noisy part
Of Thebes, now midnight silence reigns ev'n here;
And grass untrodden springs beneath our feet.
Tir.
If there be nigh this place a Sunny banck,
There let me rest a while: a Sunny banck!
Alas! how can it be, where no Sun shines!
But a dim winking Taper in the Skyes,
That nods, and scarce holds up his drowzy head
To glimmer through the damps.
[A Noise within,
follow, follow, follow, A Creon,
A Creon; A Creon.]
Thrice eccho'd.
Man.
Fly, the tempest drives this way.
Tir.
Whither can Age and blindness take their flight?
If I could fly, what cou'd I suffer worse,
Secure of greater Ills!
[Noise again,
Creon, Creon, Creon.
Enter Creon, Diocles, Alcander, Pyracmon; followed by the Crowd.
Creon.
I thank ye, Countrymen; but must refuse
The honours you intend me, they're too great;
And I am too unworthy; think agen,
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1 Cit.
Think twice! I ne're thought twice in all my life:
That's double work.
2 Cit.
My first word is always my second; and therefore I'll have
No second word: and therefore once again I say, A Creon.
All.
A Creon, A Creon, A Creon.
Creon.
Yet hear me, Fellow Citizens.
Dioc.
Fellow Citizens! there was a word of kindness!
Alc.
When did Oedipus salute you by that familiar name?
1 Cit.
Never, never; he was too proud.
Creon.
Indeed he could not, for he was a stranger:
But under him our Thebes is half destroyed.
Forbid it Heav'n the residue should perish
Under a Theban born.
'Tis true, the Gods might send this plague among you,
Because a stranger rul'd: but what of that,
Can I redress it now?
3 Cit.
Yes, you or none.
'Tis Certain that the Gods are angry with us
Because he reigns.
Creon.
Oedipus may return: you may be ruin'd.
1 Cit.
Nay, if that be the matter, we are ruin'd already.
2 Cit.
Half of us that are here present, were living men but
Yesterday, and we that are absent do but drop and drop,
And no man knows whether he be dead or living. And
Therefore while we are sound and well, let us satisfie our
Consciences, and make a new King.
3 Cit.
Ha, if we were but worthy to see another Coronation,
And then if we must dye, we'll go merrily together.
All.
To the question, to the question.
Dioc.
Are you content, Creon should be your King?
All.
A Creon, A Creon, A Creon.
Tir.
Hear me, ye Thebans, and thou Creon, hear me.
1 Cit.
Who's that would be heard; we'll hear no man:
We can scarce hear one another.
Tir.
I charge you by the Gods to hear me.
2 Cit.
Oh, 'tis Apollo's Priest, we must hear him; 'tis the old blind
Prophet that sees all things.
3 Cit.
He comes from the Gods too, and they are our betters;
And therefore in good manners we must hear him: Speak, Prophet.
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For coming from the Gods that's no great matter,
They can all say that; but he's a great Scholar, he can make
Almanacks, and he were put to't, and therefore I say hear him.
Tir.
When angry Heav'n scatters its plagues among you,
Is it for nought, ye Thebans! are the Gods
Unjust in punishing? are there no Crimes
Which pull this Vengeance down?
1 Cit.
Yes, yes, no doubt there are some Sins stirring
That are the cause of all.
3 Cit.
Yes there are Sins; or we should have no Taxes.
2 Cit.
For my part I can speak it with a safe Conscience,
I ne're sinn'd in all my life.
1 Cit.
Nor I.
3 Cit.
Nor I.
2 Cit.
Then we are all justified, the sin lyes not at our doors.
Tir.
All justified alike, and yet all guilty;
Were every mans false dealing brought to light,
His Envy, Malice, Lying, Perjuries,
His Weights and Measures, th'other mans Extortions,
With what Face could you tell offended Heav'n
You had not sinn'd?
2 Cit.
Nay, if these be sins, the case is alter'd; for my part I never
Thought any thing but Murder had been a sin.
Tir.
And yet, as if all these were less than nothing,
You add Rebellion to 'em; impious Thebans!
Have you not sworn before the Gods to serve
And to obey this Oedipus, your King
By publick voice elected; answer me,
If this be true!
2 Cit.
This is true; but it's a hard World Neighbours,
If a mans Oath must be his master.
Creon.
Speak Diocles; all goes wrong.
Dioc.
How are you Traytors Countrymen of Thebes?
This holy Sir, who presses you with Oaths,
Forgets your first; were you not sworn before
To Lajus and his Blood?
All.
We were; we were.
Dioc.
While Lajus has a lawful Successor,
Your first Oath still must bind: Eurydice
Is Heir to Lajus; let her marry Creon:
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While Oedipus pollutes the Throne of Lajus,
A stranger to his Blood.
All.
We'll no Oedipus, no Oedipus.
1. Cit.
He puts the Prophet in a Mouse-hole.
2 Cit.
I knew it wou'd be so, the last man ever speaks the best reason.
Tir.
Can benefits thus dye, ungrateful Thebans!
Remember yet, when, after Lajus's death,
The Monster Sphinx laid your rich Country waste,
Your Vineyards spoil'd, your labouring Oxen slew;
Your selves for fear mew'd up within your Walls.
She, taller than your Gates, o're-look'd your Town,
But when she rais'd her Bulk to sail above you,
She drove the Air arround her like a Whirlwind,
And shaded all beneath; till stooping down,
She clap'd her leathern wing against your Tow'rs,
And thrust out her long neck, ev'n to your doors.
Dioc., Alk., Pyr.
We'll hear no more.
Tir.
You durst not meet in Temples
T'invoke the Gods for aid, the proudest he
Who leads you now, then cowr'd, like a dar'd Lark:
This Creon shook for fear,
The blood of Lajus, cruddled in his Veins:
Till Oedipus arriv'd.
Call'd by his own high courage and the Gods,
Himself to you a God: ye offer'd him
Your Queen, and Crown; (but what was then your Crown!)
And Heav'n authoriz'd it by his success:
Speak then, who is your lawful King?
All.
'Tis Oedipus.
Tir.
'Tis Oedipus indeed: your King more lawful
Than yet you dream: for something still there lyes
In Heav'ns dark Volume, which I read through mists:
'Tis great, prodigious; 'tis a dreadful birth,
Of wondrous Fate; and now, just now disclosing.
I see, I see! how terribly it dawns.
And my Soul sickens with it:
1. Cit.
How the God shakes him!
Tir.
He comes! he comes! Victory! Conquest! Triumph!
But oh! Guiltless and Guilty: Murder! Parricide!
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And all your sufferings o're.
A Trumpet within; Enter Hæmon.
Hæm.
Rouze up ye Thebans; tune your Jo. Pæans!
Your King returns; the Argians are o're-come;
Their Warlike Prince in single-Combat taken,
And led in Bands by God-like Oedipus.
All.
Oedipus, Oedipus, Oedipus!
Creon.
Furies confound his Fortune!—
[aside.
Haste, all haste;
[To them.
And meet with Blessings our Victorious King;
Decree Processions; bid new Holy days;
Crown all the Statues of our Gods with Garlands;
And raise a Brazen Collumn, thus inscrib'd,
To Oedipus, now twice a Conquerour; Deliverer of his Thebes.
Trust me, I weep for joy to see this day.
Tir.
Yes, Heav'n knows why thou weep'st:—go, Countrymen,
And, as you use to supplicate your Gods—
So meet your King, with Bayes, and Olive-branches:
Bow down, and touch his Knees, and beg from him
An end of all your Woes; for only he
Can give it you.
[Ex. Tiresias, the People following.
Enter Oedipus in triumph, Adrastus Prisoner; Dymas, Train.
Creon.
All hail, great Oedipus;
Thou mighty Conquerour, hail; welcome to Thebes:
To thy own Thebes; to all that's left to Thebes:
For half thy Citizens are swept away,
And wanting to thy Triumphs:
And we, the happy remnant, only live
To welcome thee, and dye.
Oedipus.
Thus pleasure never comes sincere to man;
But lent by Heav'n upon hard Usury:
And, while Jove holds us out the Bowl of Joy,
E're it can reach our Lips it's dashe with Gall
By some left-handed God. O mournful Triumph!
O Conquest gain'd abroad and lost at home!
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Thy slaughter'd Sons now smile and think they won;
When they can count more Theban Ghosts than theirs.
Adrast.
No; Argos mourns with Thebes; you temper'd so
Your Courage while you fought, that Mercy seem'd
The manlier Virtue, and much more prevail'd:
While Argos is a People, think your Thebes
Can never want for Subjects: Every Nation
Will crow'd to serve where Oedipus commands.
Creon
to Hæm.
How mean it shews to fawn upon the Victor.
Hæm.
Had you beheld him fight, you had said otherwise:
Come, 'tis brave bearing in him, not to envy
Superiour Vertue.
Oed.
This indeed is Conquest,
To gain a Friend like you: Why were we Foes?
Adrast.
'Cause we were Kings, and each disdain'd an equal.
I fought to have it in my pow'r to do
What thou hast done; and so to use my Conquest;
To shew thee, Honour was my only motive,
Know this, that were my Army at thy Gates,
And Thebes thus waste, I would not take the Gift,
Which, like a Toy, dropt from the hands of Fortune,
Lay for the next chance-comer.
Oed.
embracing.
No more Captive,
But Brother of the War: 'Tis much more pleasant,
And safer, trust me, thus to meet thy love,
Than when hard Gantless clench'd our Warlike Hands,
And kept 'em from soft use.
Adr.
My Conquerour.
Oed.
My Friend! that other name keeps Enmity alive.
But longer to detain thee were a Crime;
To love, and to Eurydice, go free:
Such welcome as a ruin'd Town can give
Expect from me; the rest let her supply.
Adr.
I go without a blush, though conquer'd twice,
By you and by my Princess.
[Ex. Adrastus.
Creon.
aside.
Then I am conquer'd thrice; by Oedipus,
And her, and ev'n by him, the slave of both:
Gods, I'm beholding to you, for making me your Image,
VVou'd I cou'd make you mine.
[Ex. Creon.
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Oedipus.
Alas, my People!
What means this speechless sorrow, down cast eyes,
And lifted hands! if there be one among you
Whom grief has left a tongue, speak for the rest.
1. Pr.
O Father of thy Country!
To thee these knees are bent, these eyes are lifted,
As to a visible Divinity.
A Prince on whom Heav'n safely might repose
The business of Mankind: for Providence
Might on thy careful bosome sleep secure,
And leave her task to thee.
But where's the Glory of thy former acts?
Ev'n that's destroy'd when none shall live to speak it.
Millions of Subjects shalt thou have; but mute.
A people of the dead; a crowded desart.
A Midnight silence at the noon of day.
Oed.
O were our Gods as ready with their pity,
As I with mine, this Presence shou'd be throng'd
With all I left alive; and my sad eyes.
Not search in vain for friends, whose promis'd sight
Flatter'd my toyls of war.
1. Pr.
Twice our deliverer.
Oed.
Nor are now your vows
Addrest to one who sleeps:
VVhen this unwelcome news first reach'd my ears,
Dymas was sent to Delphos to enquire
The cause and cure of this contagious ill:
And is this day return'd: but since his message
Concerns the publick, I refus'd to hear it
But in this general Presence: let him speak.
Dymas.
A dreadful answer from the hallow'd Urn;
And sacred tripous did the Priestess give,
In these Mysterious words,
The Oracle.
Shed in a cursed hour, by cursed hand,
Blood-Royal unrevenge'd, has curs'd the Land.
When Lajus death is expiated well.
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Oed.
Dreadful indeed! blood, and a Kings blood too:
And such a Kings, and by his Subjects shed!
(Else why this curse on Thebes?) no wonder then
If Monsters, Wars, and plagues revenge such Crimes!
If Heav'n be just, it's whole Artillery,
All must be empty'd on us: Not one bolt
Shall erre from Thebes; but more, be call'd for more:
New moulded thunder of a larger size;
Driv'n by whole Jove. VVhat, touch annointed Pow'r!
Then Gods beware; Jove wou'd himself be next;
Cou'd you but reach him too.
2. Pr.
We mourn the sad remembrance.
Oed.
Well you may:
Worse than a plague infects you: y'are devoted
To Mother Earth, and to th'infernal Pow'rs:
Hell has a right in you: I thank you Gods,
That I'm no Theban born: how my blood cruddles!
As if this curse touch'd me! and touch'd me nearer
Than all this presence!—Yes, 'tis a Kings blood,
And I, a King, am ty'd in deeper bonds
To expiate this blood: but where, from whom,
Or how must I attone it? tell me, Thebans,
How Lajus fell? for a confus'd report
Pass'd through my ears, when first I took the Crown:
But full of hurry, like a morning dream,
It vanish'd in the business of the day.
1 Pr.
He went in private forth; but thinly follow'd;
And ne're return'd to Thebes.
Oed.
Nor any from him? came there no attendant?
None to bring news?
2 Pr.
But one; and he so wounded,
He scarce drew breath to speak some few faint words.
Oed.
VVhat were they? something may be learnt from thence.
1 Pr.
He said a band of Robbers watch'd their passage;
VVho took advantage of a narrow way
To murder Lajus and the rest: himself
Left too for dead.
Oed.
Made you no more enquiry,
But took this bare relation?
15
'Twas neglected:
For then the Monster Sphynx began to rage;
And present cares soon buried the remote;
So was it hush'd, and never since reviv'd.
Oed.
Mark, Thebans, mark!
Just then, the Sphynx began to rage among you;
The Gods took hold ev'n of th'offending minute,
And dated thence your woes: thence will I trace 'em.
1 Pr.
'Tis Just thou should'st.
Oed.
Hear then this dreadful imprecation; hear it:
'Tis lay'd on all; not any one exempt:
Bear witness Heav'n, avenge it on the perjur'd.
If any Theban born, if any stranger
Reveal this murder, or produce its Author,
Ten Attique Talents be his just reward:
But, if for fear, for favour, or for hire,
The murder'r he conceale, the curse of Thebes
Fall heavy on his head: Unite our plagues
Ye Gods, and place 'em there: from Fire and VVater,
Converse, and all things common be he banish'd.
But for the murderer's self, unfound by man,
Find him ye pow'rs Cœlestial and Infernal;
And the same Fate or worse, than Lajus met,
Let be his lot: his children be accurst;
His VVife and kindred, all of his be curs'd.
Both Pr.
Confim it Heav'n!
Enter Jocasta; Attended by Women.
Joc.
At your Devotions! Heav'n succeed your wishes;
And bring th'effect of these your pious pray'rs
On you, and me, and all.
Pr.
Avert this Omen, Heav'n!
Oed.
O fatal sound, Unfortunate Jocasta!
VVhat hast thou said! an ill hour hast thou chosen
For these fore-boding words! why, we were cursing!
Joc.
Then may that curse fall only where you laid it.
Oed.
Speak no more!
For all thou say'st is ominous: we were cursing;
And that dire imprecation hast thou fastn'd
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Joc.
Are then my blessings turn'd into a curse?
O Unkind Oedipus. My former Lord
Thought me his blessing: be thou like my Lajus.
Oed.
what yet again! the third time hast thou curs'd me?
This imprecation was for Lajus death,
And thou hast wish'd me like him.
Joc.
Horrour seizes me!
Oed.
why dost thou gaze upon me? prithee love
Take off thy eye; it burdens me too much.
Joc.
The more I look, the more I find of Lajus:
His speech, his garb, his action; nay his frown;
(For I have seen it;) but ne're bent on me.
Oed.
Are we so like?
Joc.
In all things but his love.
Oed.
I love thee more: so well I love, words cannot speak how well.
No pious Son er'e lov'd his Mother more
Than I my dear Jocasta.
Joc.
I love you too
The self same way: and when you chid, me thought
A Mothers love start up in your defence,
And bade me not beangry: be not you:
For I love Lajus still as wives shou'd love:
But you more tenderly; as part of me:
And when I have you in my arms, methinks
I lull my child asleep.
Oed.
Then we are blest:
And all these curses sweep along the skyes
Like empty clowds; but drop not on our heads.
Joc.
I have not joy'd an hour since you departed,
For publick Miseries, and for private fears;
But this blest meeting has or'e-pay'd 'em all.
Good fortune that comes seldom comes more welcome.
All I can wish for now, is your consent
To make my Brother happy.
Oed.
How, Jocasta?
Joc.
By marriage with his Neece, Eurydice!
Oed.
Uncle and Neece! they are too near, my Love;
'Tis too like Incest: 'tis offence to Kind:
Had I not promis'd, were there no Adrastus,
17
They shou'd not marry; speak no more of it;
The thought disturbs me.
Joc.
Heav'n can never bless
A Vow so broken, which I made to Creon;
Remember he's my Brother.
Oed.
That's the Bar:
And she thy Daughter: Nature wou'd abhor
To be forc'd back again upon her self,
And like a whirle-pool swallow her own streams.
Joc.
Be not displeas'd; I'll move the Suit no more.
Oed.
No, do not; for, I know not why, it shakes me
When I but think on Incest; move we forward
To thank the Gods for my success, and pray
To wash the guilt of Royal Blood away.
[Exeunt Omnes.
| Oedipus | |