OEDIPUS: A TRAGEDY. As it is ACTED at His Royal Highness THE DUKE's Theatre.  
The AUTHOR'S Mr. DRYDEN, and Mr. LEE.  
High proprium decus & partum indignantur honorem  
Ni teneant.— Virgil.  
Vos exemplaria Graeca,  
Nocturna versate manu, versate diurna.  Horat. 
LICENCED, Jan. 3. 1678/ 9 ROGER L'ESTRANGE.  
LONDON, Printed for R. Bentley and M. Magnes in Russel-street in Covent-Garden. 1679.   

PREFACE.  
THOUGH it be dangerous to raise too great an expectation, especially in works of this Nature, where we are to please an unsatiable Audience, yet 'tis reasonable to prepossess them in favour of an Author, and therefore both the Prologue and Epilogue informed you, that Oedipus was the most celebrated piece of all Antiquity. That Sophocles, not only the greatest Wit, but one of the greatest Men in Athens, made it for the Stage at the Public Cost, and that it had the reputation of being his Masterpiece, not only amongst the Seven of his which are still remaining, but of the greater Number which are perished. Aristole has more than once admired it in his Book of Poetry, Horace has mentioned it: Lucullus, Julius Caesar, and other noble Romans, have written on the same Subject, though their Poems are wholly lost; but Seneca's is still preserved. In our own Age, Corneille has attempted it, and it appears by his Preface, with great success: But a judicious Reader will easily observe, how much the Copy is inferior to the Original. He tells you himself, that he owes a great part of his success to the happy Episode of Theseus and Dirce; which is the same thing, as if we should acknowledge, that we were indebted for our good fortune, to the under-plot of Adrastus, Eurydice, and Creon. The truth is, he miserably failed in the Character of his Hero: if he desired that Oedipus should be pitied, he should have made him a better man. He forgot that Sophocles had taken care to show him in his first entrance, a just, a merciful, a successful, a Religious Prince, and in short, a Father of his Country: instead of these, he has drawn him suspicious, designing, more anxious of keeping the Theban Crown, than solicitous for the safety of his People: Hectored by Theseus, contemned by Dirce, and scarce maintaining a second part in his own Tragedy. This was an error in the first concoction; and therefore never to be mended in the second or the third: He introduced a greater Hero than Oedipus himself: for when Theseus was once there, that Companion of Hercules must yield to none: The Poet was obliged to furnish him with business, to make him an Equipage suitable to his dignity, and by following him too close, to lose his other King of Branford in the Crowd. Seneca on the other side, as if there were no such thing as Nature to be minded in a Play, is always running after pompous expression, pointed sentences, and Philosophical notions, more proper for the Study than the Stage: The Frenchman followed a wrong scent; and the Roman was absolutely at cold Hunting. All we could gather out of Corneille, was, that an Episode must be, but not his way: and Seneca supplied us with no new hint, but only a Relation which he makes of his Tiresias raising the Ghost of Lajus: which is here performed in view of the Audience, the Rites and Ceremonies so far his, as he agreed with Antiquity, and the Religion of the Greeks: but he himself was beholding to Homer's Tiresias in the Odysses for some of them: and the rest have been collected from Heliodore's, AEthiopiques, and Lucan's Erichtho. Sophocles indeed is admirable every where: And therefore we have followed him as close as possibly we could: But the Athenian Theatre, (whether more perfect than ours is not now disputed) had a perfection differing from ours. You see there in every Act a single Scene, (or two at most) which manage the business of the Play, and after that succeeds the Chorus, which commonly takes up more time in Singing, than there has been employed in speaking. The Principal person appears almost constantly through the Play; but the inferior parts seldom above once in the whole Tragedy. The conduct of our Stage is much more difficult, where we are obliged never to lose any considerable character which we have once presented. Custom likewise has obtained, that we must form an under-plot of second Persons, which must be depending on the first, and their by-walks must be like those in a Labyrinth, which all of 'em-lead into the great Parterre: or like so many several lodging Chambers, which have their outlets into the same Gallery. Perhaps after all, if we could think so, the ancient method, as 'tis the easiest, is also the most Natural, and the best. For variety, as 'tis managed, is too often subject to breed distraction: and while we would please too many ways, for want of art in the conduct, we please in none. But we have given you more already than was necessary for a Preface, and for aught we know, may gain no more by our instructions, than that Politic Naton is like to do, who have taught their Enemies to fight so long, that at last they are in a condition to invade them.   

Dramatis Personae.  
Oedipus Mr. Betterton. Adrastus' Mr. Smith. Creon Mr. Samford. Tiresias Mr. Harris. Haemon Mr. Crosby. Alcander Mr. Williams. Diocles Mr. Norris. Pyracmon Mr. Boman. Phorbas Mr. Gillo. Dymas  AEgeon  Ghost of Lajus Mr. Williams. WOMEN.  Jocasta Mrs. Betterton. Eurydice Mrs. Lee. Manto. Mrs. Evans. Priests, Citizens, Attendants, etc.  SCENE, THEBES.   

PROLOGUE.  
WHEN Athens all the Grecian State did guide,  
And Greece gave Laws to all the World beside,  
Then Sophocles with Socrates did sit,  
Supreme in Wisdom one, and one in Wit:  
And Wit from Wisdom differed not in those,  
But as 'twas Sung inVerse, or said in Prose.  
Then, Oedipus, on Crowded theatres,  
Drew all admiring Eyes and listening Ears;  
The pleased Spectator shouted every Line,  
The noblest, manliest, and the best Design!  
And every Critic of each learned Age  
By this just Model has reformed the Stage.  
Now, should it fail, (as Heaven avert our fear!)  
Damn it in silence, lest the World should hear.  
For were it known this Poem did not please,  
You might set up for perfect Savages:  
Your Neighbours would not look on you as men:  
But think the Nation all turned Picts again.  
Faith, as you manage matters, 'tis not fit  
You should suspect yourselves of too much Wit.  
Drive not the jest too far, but spare this piece;  
And, for this once, be not more Wise than Greece.  
See twice! Do not pellmell to Damning fall,  
Like true born Britain's, who ne'er think at all:  
Pray be advised; and though at Mons you won,  
On pointed Cannon do not always run.  
With some respect to ancient Wit proceed;  
You take the four first Councils for your Creed.  
But, when you lay Tradition wholly by,  
And on the private Spirit alone rely,  
You turn fanatics in your Poetry.  
If, notwithstanding all that we can say,  
You needs will have your pennyworths of the Play:  
And come resolved to Damn, because you pay,  
Record it, in memorial of the Fact,  
The first Play buried since the woollen Act.   

OEDIPUS.  

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 Ruins; Nature shakes  
About us; and the Universal Frame  
So loose, that it but wants another push  
To leap from off its Hinges.  Dioc. 
No Sun to cheer us; but a Bloody Globe  
That rowls above; a bald and Beamless Fire;  
His Face o'ergrown with Scurf: the Sun's sick too;  
Shortly he'll be an Earth.  Pyr. 
Therefore the Seasons  
Lie all confused; and, by the Heaven's neglected,  
Forget themselves: Blind Winter meets the Summer  
In his Midway, and, seeing not his Livery,  
Has driven him headlong back: And the raw damps  
With flaggy Wings fly heavily about,  
Scattering their Pestilential Colds and Rheums  
Through all the lazy Air.  Alc. 
Hence Murrains followed  
On bleating Flocks, and on the lowing Herds:  
At last, the Malady  
Grew more domestic, and the faithful Dog  
Died at his Master's Feet.  Dioc. 
And next his Master:  
For all those Plagues which Earth and Air had brooded,  
First on inferior Creatures tried their force;  
And last they seized on man.  Pyr. 
And then a thousand deaths at once advanced,  
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 stooped to raise his dying Friend,  
Dropped 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 breathe 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  
Linked to Effects; invincible Necessity  
That what e'er is, could not but so have been;  
That's my security.  To them, Enter Creon. Creon. 
So had it need, when all our Streets lie covered  
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.  Dios. 
Now, Oedipus,  
(If he return from War, our other plague)  
Will scarce find half he left, to grace his Triumphs.  Pyr. 
A feeble Paean will be sung before him.  Alc. 
He would do well to bring the Wives and Children  
Of conquered Argians, to renew his Thebes.  Creon. 
May Funerals meet him at the City Gates  
With their detested Omen.  Dioc. 
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 pleased.  Creon. 
Come, you're my Friends:  
The Queen my Sister, after Lajus' death,  
Feared to lie single; and supplied his place  
With a young Successor.  Dioc. 
He much resembles  
Her former Husband too;  Alc. 
I always thought so.  Pyr. 
When twenty Winters more have grizzled 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 pleased,  
The same resemblance in a younger Lover  
Lies brooding in their Fancies the same Pleasures,  
And urges their remembrance to desire.  Dioc. 
Had merit, not her dotage, been considered,  
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 beauteous, and unmarried.  
Methinks from these disjointed propositions  
Something might be produced.  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.  Alc. 
Your claim to her is strong: you are betrothed.  Pyr. 
True; in her Nonage.  Alc. 
But that let's removed.  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-brained, headlong Warrior, 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 itself 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 Eurydice. Creon. 
Hail, Royal Maid; thou bright Eurydice!  
A lavish Planet reigned when thou wert born;  
And made thee of such kindred mould to Heaven,  
Thou seem'st more Heaven's then 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 public 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 horror!  Creon. 
Why not then?  
There's the more need of comfort.  Euryd. 
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 bade you, cast your eyes on othermen,  
Now cast 'em on yourself: 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 poison to my eyes.  Creon. 
'Twas you first poisoned mine; and yet methinks,  
My face and person should not make you sport.  Euryd. 
You force me, by your importunities,  
To show you what you are.  Creon. 
A Prince, who loves you:  
And since your pride provokes me, worth your love,  
Even at its highest value.  Euryd. 
Love from thee!  
Why love renounced thee ere thou sawst the light:  
Nature herself start back when thou wert born;  
And cried, the work's not mine:—  
The Midwife stood aghast; and when she saw  
Thy Mountain back and thy distorted legs,  
Thy face itself,  
Half-minted with the Royal stamp of man;  
And half overcome 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 stamped my mind more fair:  
And as from Chaos, huddled and deformed,  
The God struck fire, and lighted up the Lamps  
That beautify the sky, so he informed  
This ill-shaped body with a daring soul:  
And making less than man, he made me more.  Euryd. 
No; thou art all one error; soul and body.  
The first young trial of some unskilled Power;  
Rude in the making Art, and Ape of Jove.  
Thy crooked mind within hunched out thy back;  
And wandered 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 Mother's Vows,  
Made when I was at Nurse.  Creon. 
But hear me, Maid;  
This blot of Nature, this deformed, loathed 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 cursed with loving me:  
And, as thou art, be still unpitied, loathed;  
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 ere Oedipus return,  
To snatch the Crown and her; for I still love;  
But love with malice; as an angry Cur  
Snarls while he feeds, so will I seize and staunch  
The hunger of my love on this proud beauty,  
And leave the scraps for Slaves.  Enter Tiresias, leaning on a staff, and led by his Daughter Manto. 
What makes this blind prophetic Fool abroad!  
Would his Apollo 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 corpse;— 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 even here;  
And grass untrodden springs beneath our feet.  Tir. 
If there be nigh this place a Sunny bank,  
There let me rest a while: a Sunny bank!  
Alas! how can it be, where no Sun shines!  
But a dim winking Taper in the Skies,  
That nods, and scarce holds up his drowsy head  
To glimmer through the damps.  [A Noise within, follow, follow, follow, A Creon, A Creon, A Creon.] 
Hark! a tumultuous noise, and Creon's name  
Thrice echoed.  Man. 
Fly, the tempest drives this way.  Tir. 
Whither can Age and blindness take their flight?  
If I could fly, what could 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 intent me, they're too great;  
And I am too unworthy; think again,  
And make a better choice.  1 Cit 
Think twice! I ne'er 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 Heaven the residue should perish  
Under a Theban born.  
'Tis true, the Gods might send this plague among you,  
Because a stranger ruled: 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 ruined.  1 Cit 
Nay, if that be the matter, we are ruined 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 satisfy our  
Consciences, and make a new King.  3 Cit 
Ha, if we were but worthy to see another Coronation,  
And then if we must die, well 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. 
Hearme, 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.  2 Cit 
For coming from the Gods that's no great matter,  
They can all say that; but he's a great Scholar, he can make  
Almanacs, and he were put to't, and therefore I say hear him.  Tir. 
When angry Heaven 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'er sinned in all my life.  1 Cit 
Nor I.  3 Cit 
Nor I.  2 Cit 
Then we are all justified, the sin lies not at our doors.  Tir. 
All justified alike, and yet all guilty;  
Were every man's false dealing brought to light,  
His Envy, Malice, Lying, Perjuries,  
His Weights and Measures, th'other man's Extortions,  
With what Face could you tell offended Heaven  
You had not sinned?  2 Cit 
Nay, if these be sins, the case is altered; 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 public voice elected; answer me,  
If this be true!  2 Cit 
This is true; but it's a hard World Neighbours,  
If a man's Oath must be his master.  Creon. 
Speak Diocles; all goes wrong.  Dioc. 
How are you Traitors 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:  
Offended Heaven will never be appeased  
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 Mousehole.  2 Cit 
I knew it would be so; the last man ever speaks the best reason.  Tir. 
Can benefits thus die, ungrateful Thebans!  
Remember yet, when, after Lajus' death,  
The Monster Sphinx laid your rich Country waste,  
Your Vineyards spoiled, your labouring Oxen slew;  
Yourselves for fear mewed up within your Walls.  
She, taller than your Gates, o'erlooked your Town,  
But when she raised her Bulk to sail above you,  
She drove the Air arround her like a Whirlwind,  
And shaded all beneath; till stooping down,  
She clapped her leathern wing against your towers,  
And thrust out her long neck, even 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 cowred, like a dared Lark:  
This Creon shook for fear,  
The blood of Lajus, cruddled in his Veins:  
Till Oedipus arrived.  
Called by his own high courage and the Gods,  
Himself to you a God: ye offered him  
Your Queen, and Crown; (but what was then your Crown!)  
And Heaven authorised 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 lies  
In heavens' 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!  
Incest; Discovery! Punishment— 'tis ended,  
And all your sufferings o'er.  A Trumpet within; Enter Haemon. Haem. 
Rouse up ye Thebans; tune your Jo. Paeans!  
Your King returns; the Argians are overcome;  
Their Warlike Prince in single Combat taken,  
And led in Bands by Godlike Oedipus.  All. 
Oedipus, Oedipus, Oedipus!  Creon. 
Furies confound his Fortune!—  
Haste, all haste;  
And meet with Blessings our Victorious King;  
Decree Processions; bid new holidays;  
Crown all the Statues of our Gods with Garlands;  
And raise a Brazen Column, thus inscribed,  
To Oedipus, now twice a Conqueror; Deliverer of his Thebes.  
Trust me, I weep for joy to see this day.  [aside. [To them. Tir. 
Yes, Heaven knows why thou weep'st:— go, Countrymen,  
And, as you use to supplicate your Gods—  
So meet your King, with Bays, 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 Conqueror, hail; welcome to Thebes:  
To thy own Thebes; to all that's left of Thebes:  
For half thy Citizens are swept away,  
And wanting to thy Triumphs:  
And we, the happy remnant, only live  
To welcome thee, and die.  Oedipus. 
Thus pleasure never comes sincere to man;  
But lent by Heaven upon hard Usury:  
And, while Jove holds us out the Bowl of Joy,  
ere it can reach our Lips it's dashed with Gall  
By some lefthanded God. O mournful Triumph!  
O Conquest gained abroad and lost at home!  
O Argos! now rejoice, for Thebes lies low;  
Thy slaughtered Sons now smile and think they won;  
When they can count more Theban Ghosts than theirs.  Adrast. 
No; Argos mourns with Thebes; you tempered so  
Your Courage while you fought, that Mercy seemed  
The manlier Virtue, and much more prevailed:  
While Argos is a People, think your Thebes  
Can never want for Subjects: Every Nation  
Will crowed to serve where Oedipus commands,  Creon to Haem. 
How mean it shows to fawn upon the Victor!  Haem. 
Had you beheld him fight, you had said otherwise:  
Come, 'tis brave bearing in him, not to envy  
Superior Virtue.  Oed. 
This indeed is Conquest,  
To gain a Friend like you: Why were we Foes?  Adrast. 
'Cause we were Kings, and each disdained an equal.  
I fought to have it in my power to do  
What thou hast done; and so to use my Conquest;  
To show 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, dropped 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 Gauntlets clenched our Warlike Hands,  
And kept 'em from soft use.  Adr. 
My Conqueror.  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 ruined Town can give  
Expect from me; the rest let her supply.  Adr. 
I go without a blush, though conquered twice,  
By you and by my Princess.  [Ex. Adrastus. Creon aside. 
Then I am conquered thrice; by Oedipus,  
And her, and even by him, the slave of both:  
Gods, I'm beholding to you, for making me your Image,  
Woven I could make you mine.  [Ex. Creon. Enter the People with branches in their hands, holding them up, and kneeling: Two Priests before them. 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 Heaven safely might repose  
The business of Mankind: for Providence  
Might on thy careful bosom sleep secure,  
And leave her task to thee.  
But where's the Glory of thy former acts?  
Even that's destroyed when none shall live to speak it.  
Millions of Subjects shalt thou have; but mute.  
A people of the dead; a crowded desert.  
A Midnight silence at the noon of day.  Oed. 
O were our Gods as ready with their pity,  
As I with mine, this Presence should be thronged  
With all I left alive; and my sad eyes.  
Not search in vain for friends, whose promised sight  
Flattered my toils of war.  1 Pr. 
Twice our deliverer.  Oed. 
Nor are now your vows  
Addressed to one who sleeps:  
When this unwelcome news first reached my ears,  
Dymas was sent to Delphos to inquire  
The cause and cure of this contagious ill:  
And is this day returned: but since his message  
Concerns the public, I refused to hear it  
But in this general Presence: let him speak.  Dymas. 
A dreadful answer from the hallowed Urn,  
And sacred tripous did the Priestess give,  
In these Mysterious words,  The Oracle. 
Shed in a cursed hour, by cursed hand,  
Blood-Royal unrevenged, has cursed the Land.  
When Lajus death is expiated well  
Your Plague shall cease: the rest let Lajus tell.  Oed. 
Dreadful indeed! blood, and a King's 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 Heaven be just, it's whole Artillery,  
All must be emptied on us: Not one bolt  
Shall err from Thebes; but more, be called for more:  
New moulded thunder of a larger size;  
Driven by whole Jove. What, touch anointed Power!  
Then Gods beware; Jove would himself be next;  
Could you but reach him too.  2. Pr. 
We mourn the sad remembrance.  Oed. 
Well you may:  
Worse than a plague infects you: you're devoted  
To Mother Earth, and to th' infernal Powers:  
Hell has a right in you: I thank you Gods,  
That I'm no Theban born: how my blood cruddles!  
As if this curse touched me! and touched me nearer  
Than all this presence!— Yes, 'tis a King's blood,  
And I, a King, am tied in deeper bonds  
To expiate this blood: but where, from whom,  
Or how must I atone it? tell me, Thebans,  
How Lajus fell? for a confused report  
Pass'd through my ears, when first I took the Crown:  
But full of hurry, like a morning dream,  
It vanished in the business of the day.  1 Pr. 
He went in private forth; but thinly followed;  
And ne'er returned 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. 
What were they? something may be learned from thence.  1 Pr. 
He said a band of Robbers watched their passage;  
Who 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?  2. Pr. 
'Twas neglected:  
For then the Monster Sphynx began to rage;  
And present cares soon buried the remote;  
So was it hushed, and never since revived.  Oed. 
Mark, Thebans, mark!  
Just then, the Sphynx began to rage among you;  
The Gods took hold even of th'offending minute,  
And dated thence your woes: thence will I trace 'em.  1 Pr. 
'Tis Just thou shouldst.  Oed. 
Hear then this dreadful imprecation; hear it:  
'Tis laid on all; not any one exempt:  
Bear witness Heaven, avenge it on the perjured.  
If any Theban born, if any stranger  
Reveal this murder, or produce its Author,  
Ten Attic Talents be his just reward:  
But, if for fear, for favour, or for hire,  
The murder'r he conceal, the curse of Thebes  
Fall heavy on his head: Unite our plagues  
Ye Gods, and place 'em there: from Fire and Water,  
Converse, and all things common be he banished.  
But for the murderer's self, unfound by man,  
Find him ye powers Celestial and Infernal;  
And the same Fate or worse, than Lajus met,  
Let be his lot: his children be accursed;  
His Wife and kindred, all of his be cursed.  Both Pr. 
Confim it Heaven!  Enter Jocasta; Attended by Women. Joc. 
At your Devotions! Heaven succeed your wishes;  
And bring th' effect of these your pious prayers  
On you, and me, and all.  Pr. 
Avert this Omen, Heaven!  Oed. 
O fatal sound, Unfortunate Jocasta!  
What 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 sayst is ominous: we were cursing;  
And that dire imprecation hast thou fastened  
On Thebes, and thee and me, and all of us.  Joc. 
Are then my blessings turned 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 cursed me?  
This imprecation was for Lajus death,  
And thou hast wished me like him.  Joc. 
Horror 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'er 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 e'er loved his Mother more  
Than I my dear Jocasta.  Joc. 
I love you too  
The self same way: and when you chid, me thought  
A Mother's love start up in your defence,  
And bade me not beangry: be not you:  
For I love Lajus still as wives should 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 blessed:  
And all these curses sweep along the skies  
Like empty clouds; but drop not on our heads.  Joc. 
I have not joyed an hour since you departed,  
For public Miseries, and for private fears;  
But this blessed meeting has or'e-payed '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 Niece, Eurydice!  Oed. 
Uncle and Niece! they are too near, my Love;  
'Tis too like Incest: 'tis offence to Kind:  
Had I not promised, were there no Adrastus,  
No choice but Creon left her of Mankind,  
They should not marry; speak no more of it;  
The thought disturbs me.  Joc. 
Heaven 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 would abhor  
To be forced back again upon herself,  
And like a whirlpool swallow her own streams.  Joc. 
Be not displeased; 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.  

ACT. II. SCENE I.  An open Gallery. A Royal Bedchamber being supposed behind. The Time, Night. Thunder, etc. Haemon, Alcander, Pyracmon. Haem. 
SURE 'tis the end of all things! Fate has torn  
The Lock of Time off, and his head is now  
The ghastly Ball of round Eternity!  
Call you these Peals of Thunder, but the yawn  
Of bellowing Clouds? By Jove, they seem to me  
The World's last groans; and those vast sheets of Flame  
Are its last Blaze! The Tapers of the Gods,  
The Sun and Moon, run down like waxen-Globes;  
The shooting Stars end all in purple Jellies,  
And Chaos is at hand.  Pyr. 
'Tis Midnight, yet there's not a Theban sleeps,  
But such as ne'er must wake. All crowed about  
The Palace, and implore, as from a God,  
Help of the King; who, from the Battlement,  
By the red Lightning's glare, descried afar,  
Atones the angry Powers.  Thunder, etc. Haem. 
Ha! Pyracmon, look;  
Behold, Alcander, from yon West of Heaven,  
The perfect Figures of a Man and Woman:  
A Sceptre bright with Gems in each right hand,  
Their flowing Robes of dazzling Purple made,  
Distinctly yonder in that point they stand,  
Just West; a bloody red stains all the place:  
And see, their Faces are quite-hid in Clouds.  Pyr. 
Clusters of Golden Stars hang o'er their heads,  
And seem so crowded, that they burst upon 'em:  
All dart at once their baleful influence,  
In leaking Fire.  Alc. 
Long-bearded Comets stick,  
Like flaming Porcupines, to their left sides,  
As they would shoot their Quills into their hearts.  Haem. 
But see! the King, and Queen, and all the Court!  
Did ever Day or Night show aught like this?  [Thunders again. The Scene draws, and discovers the Prodigies. Enter Oedipus, Jocasta, Eurydice, Adrastus, all coming forward with amazement. Oed. 
Answer, you Powers Divine; spare all this noise,  
This rack of Heaven, and speak your fatal pleasure.  
Why breaks yond dark and dusky Orb away?  
Why from the bleeding Womb of monstrous Night,  
Burst forth such Miriads of abortive Stars?  
Ha! my Jocasta, look! the Silver Moon!  
A settling Crimson stains her beauteous Face!  
She's all o'er Blood! and look, behold again,  
What mean the mistick-Heavens, she journeys on?  
A vast Eclipse darkens the labouring Planet:  
Sound there, sound all our Instruments of War;  
Clarions and Trumpets, Silver, Brass, and Iron,  
And beat a thousand Drums to help her Labour.  Adr. 
'Tis vain; you see the Prodigies continue;  
Let's gaze no more, the Gods are humorous.  Oed. 
Forbear, rash man.— Once more I ask your pleasure!  
If that the glow-worm-light of Humane Reason  
Might dare to offer at Immortal knowledge,  
And cope with Gods, why all this storm of Nature?  
Why do the Rocks split, and why rolls the Sea?  
Why these Portents in Heaven, and Plagues on Earth?  
Why yon Gygantick Forms, Ethereal Monsters?  
Alas! is all this but to fright the Dwarfs  
Which your own hands have made? Then be it so.  
Or if the Fates resolve some Expiation  
For murdered Lajus; Hear me, hear me, Gods!  
Hear me thus prostrate: Spare this groaning Land,  
Save innocent Thebes, stop the Tyrant Death;  
Do this, and lo I stand up an Oblation  
To meet your swiftest and severest anger,  
Shoot all at once, and strike me to the Centre.  The Cloud draws that veiled the heads of the Figures in the Sky, and shows 'em Crowned, with the names of Oedipus and Jocasta written above in great Characters of Gold. Adr. 
Either I dream, and all my cooler senses  
Are vanished with that Cloud that fleets away;  
Or just above those two Majestic heads,  
I see, I read distinctly in large gold,  
Oedipus and Jocasta.  Alc. 
I read the same.  Adr. 
'Tis wonderful; yet ought not man to wade  
Too far in the vast deep of Destiny.  [Thunder; and the Prodigies vanish. Joc. 
My Lord, my Oedipus, why gaze you now,  
When the whole Heaven is clear, as if the Gods  
Had some new Monsters made? will you not turn,  
And bless your People; who devour each word  
You breathe.  Oed. 
It shall be so.  
Yes, I will die, O Thebes, to save thee!  
Draw from my heart my blood, with more content  
Than e'er I wore thy Crown. Yet, O, Jocasta!  
By all the endearments of miraculous love,  
By all our languish, our fears in pleasure,  
Which oft have made us wonder; here I swear  
On thy fair hand, upon thy breast I swear,  
I cannot call to mind, from budding Childhood  
To blooming youth, a Crime by me committed,  
For which the awful Gods should doom my death.  Joc. 
'Tis not you, my Lord,  
But he who murdered Lajus, frees the Land:  
Were you, which is impossible, the man,  
Perhaps my Poniard first should drink your blood;  
But you are innocent, as your Jocasta,  
From Crimes like those. This made me violent  
To save your life, which you unjust would lose:  
Nor can you comprehend, with deepest thought,  
The horrid Agony you cast me in,  
When you resolved to die.  Oed. 
Is't possible?  Joc. 
Alas! why start you so? Her stiff'ning grief,  
Who saw her Children slaughtered all at once,  
Was dull to mine: Methinks I should have made  
My bosom bare against the armed God,  
To save my Oedipus!  Oed. 
I pray, no more.  Joc. 
You've silenced me, my Lord.  Oed. 
Pardon me, dear Jocasta;  
Pardon a heart that sinks with sufferings,  
And can but vent itself in sobs and murmurs:  
Yet to restore my peace, I'll find him out.  
Yes, yes, you Gods! you shall have ample vengeance  
On Lajus murderer. O, the traitor's name!  
I'll know't, I will; Art shall be Conjured for it,  
And Nature all unravelled.  Joc. 
Sacred Sir,—  Oed. 
Rage will have way, and 'tis but just; I'll fetch him,  
Tho' lodged in Air, upon a Dragon's wing,  
Tho' Rocks should hide him: nay, he shall be dragged  
From Hell, if Charms can hurry him along:  
His Ghost shall be, by sage Tiresias power,  
(Tiresias, that rules all beneath the Moon)  
Confined to flesh, to suffer death once more;  
And then be plunged in his first fires again.  Enter Creon. Cre. 
My Lord,  
Tiresias attends your pleasure.  Oed. 
Haste, and bring him in.  
O, my Jocasta, Eurydice, Adrastus,  
Creon, and all ye Thebans, now the end  
Of Plagues, of Madness, Murders, Prodigies,  
Draws on: This Battle of the heavens' and Earth  
Shall by his wisdom be reduced to peace.  Enter Tiresias, leaning on a staff, led by his Daughter Manto, followed by other Thebans. 
O thou, whose most aspiring mind  
Know'st all the business of the Courts above,  
Open'st the Closets of the Gods, and dares  
To mix with Jove himself and Fate at Council;  
O Prophet, answer me, declare aloud  
The Traitor who conspired the death of Lajus:  
Or be they more, who from malignant Stars  
Have drawn this Plague that blasts unhappy Thebes.  Tir. 
We must no more than Fate commissions us  
To tell; yet something, and of moment, I'll unfold,  
If that the God would wake; I feel him now,  
Like a strong Spirit Charmed into a Tree,  
That leaps, and moves the Wood without a Wind:  
The roused God, as all this while he lay  
Entombed alive, starts and dilates himself;  
He struggles, and he tears my aged Trunk  
With holy Fury, my old Arteries burst,  
My riveled skin,  
Like Parchment, crackles at the hallowed fire;  
I shall be young again: Manto, my Daughter,  
Thou hast a voice that might have saved the Bard  
Of Thrace, and forced the raging Bacchanals,  
With lifted Prongs, to listen to thy airs:  
O Charm this God, this Fury in my bosom,  
Lull him with tuneful notes, and artful strings,  
With powerful strains; Manto, my lovely Child,  
Sooth the unruly Godhead to be mild.  

SONG to Apollo.  
Phoebus, God beloved by men;  
At thy dawn, every Beast is roused in his Den;  
At thy setting, all the Birds of thy absence complain,  
And we die, all die till the morning comes again,  
Phoebus, God beloved by men!  
Idol of the Eastern Kings,  
Awful as the God who flings  
His Thunder round, and the Lightning wings;  
God of Songs, and Orphean strings,  
Who to this mortal bosom brings,  
All harmonious heavenly things!  
Thy drowsy Prophet to revive,  
Ten thousand thousand forms before him drive;  
With Chariots and Horses all o' fire awake him,  
Convulsions, and Furies, and Prophecies shake him:  
Let him tell it in groans, tho' he bend with the load,  
Tho' he burst with the weight of the terrible God.   Tir. 
The wretch, who shed the blood of old Labdacides,  
Lives, and is great;  
But cruel greatness ne'er was long:  
The first of Lajus blood his life did seize,  
And urged his Fate,  
Which else had lasting been and strong.  
The wretch, who Lajus killed, must bleed or fly;  
Or Thebes, consumed with Plagues, in ruins lie.  Oed. 
The first of Lajus blood! pronounce the person;  
May the God roar from thy prophetic mouth,  
That even the dead may start up, to behold:  
Name him, I say, that most accursed wretch,  
For by the Stars he dies:  
Speak, I command thee;  
By Phoebus, speak; for sudden death's his doom:  
Here shall he fall, bleed on this very spot;  
His name, I charge the once more, speak.  Tir. 
'Tis lost,  
Like what we think can never shun remembrance;  
Yet of a sudden's gone beyond the Clouds.  Oed. 
Fetch it from thence; I'll have't, where e'er it be.  Cre. 
Let me entreat you, sacred Sir, be calm,  
And Creon shall point out the great Offender.  
'Tis true, respect of Nature might enjoin  
Me silence, at another time; but, oh,  
Much more the power of my eternal Love!  
That, that should strike me dumb: yet Thebes, my Country—  
I'll break through all, to succour thee, poor City!  
O, I must speak.  Oed. 
Speak then, if ought thou know'st:  
As much thou seem'st to know, delay no longer.  Cre. 
O Beauty! O illustrious Royal Maid!  
To whom my Vows were ever paid till now,  
And with such modest, chaste, and pure affection,  
The coldest Nymph might read 'em without blushing;  
Art thou the Murderess then of wretched Lajus?  
And I, must I accuse thee! O my tears!  
Why will you fall in so abhorred a Cause?  
But that thy beauteous, barbarous, hand destroyed  
Thy Father (O monstrous act!) both Gods  
And men at once take notice.  Oed. 
Eurydice!  Eur. 
Traitor, go on; I scorn thy little malice,  
And knowing more my perfect innocence,  
Than Gods and men, then how much more than thee,  
Who art their opposite, and formed a Liar,  
I thus disdain thee! Thou once didst talk of Love;  
Because I hate thy love,  
Thou dost accuse me.  Adr. 
Villain, inglorious Villain,  
And Traitor, double damned, who durst blaspheme  
The spotless virtue of the brightest beauty;  
Thou diest: nor shall the sacred Majesty,  
That guards this place, preserve thee from my rage.  [Draws and wounds him. Oed. 
Disarm 'em both: Prince, I shall make you know  
That I can tame you twice. Guards, seize him.  Adr. 
Sir,  
I must acknowledge in another Cause  
Repentance might abash me; but I glory  
In this, and smile to see the traitor's blood.  Oed. 
Creon, you shall be satisfied at full.  Cre. 
My hurt is nothing, Sir; but I appeal  
To wise Tiresias, if my accusation  
Be not most true. The first of Lajus blood  
Gave him his death. Is there a Prince before her?  
Then she is faultless, and I ask her pardon.  
And may this blood ne'er cease to drop, O Thebes,  
If pity of thy sufferings did not move me  
To show the Cure which Heaven itself prescribed.  Eur. 
Yes, Thebans, I will die to save your lives,  
More willingly than you can wish my fate;  
But let this good, this wife, this holy man,  
Pronounce my Sentence: for to fall by him,  
By the vile breath of that prodigious Villain,  
Would sink my Soul, though I should die a Martyr.  Adr. 
Unhand me, slaves. O mightiest of Kings,  
See at your feet a Prince not used to kneel;  
Touch not Eurydice, by all the Gods,  
As you would save your Thebes, but take my life:  
For, should she perish, Heaven would heap plagues on plagues,  
Rain Sulphur down, hurl kindled bolts  
Upon your guilty heads.  Cre. 
You turn to gallantry, what is but justice:  
Proof will be easy made. Adrastus was  
The Robber who bereft th' unhappy King  
Of life; because he flatly had denied  
To make so poor a Prince his Son-in-law:  
Therefore 'twere fit that both should perish.  1 Theb. 
Both, let both die.  All Theb. 
Both, both; let 'em die.  Oed. 
Hence, you wild herd! For your Ringleader here,  
He shall be made Example. Haemon, take him.  1 Theb. 
Mercy, O mercy.  Oed. 
Mutiny in my presence!  
Hence, let me see that busy face no more.  Tir. 
Thebans, what madness makes you drunk with rage?  
Enough of guilty death's already acted:  
Fierce Creon has accused Eurydice,  
With Prince Adrastus; which the God reproves  
By inward checks, and leaves their Fates in doubt.  Oed. 
Therefore instruct us what remains to do,  
Or suffer; for I feel a sleep like death  
Upon me, and I sigh to be at rest.  Tir. 
Since that the powers divine refuse to clear  
The mystic deed, I'll to the Grove of Furies;  
There I can force th' Infernal Gods to show  
Their horrid Forms;  
Each trembling Ghost shall rise,  
And leave their grizly King without a waiter:  
For Prince Adrastus and Eurydice,  
My life's engaged, I'll guard 'em in the Fane,  
Till the dark mysteries of Hell are done.  
Follow me, Princes; Thebans, all to rest.  
O, Oedipus, to morrow— but no more.  
If that thy wakeful Genius will permit,  
Indulge thy brain this night with softer slumbers:  
To morrow, O to morrow!— sleep, my Son;  
And in prophetic dreams thy Fate be shown.  [Ex. Tire. Adrast. Eurid. Manto, Thebans. Manent Oed. Joc. Creon, Pyrac. Haem. Alcan. Oed. 
To bed, my Fair, my Dear, my best Jocasta.  
After the toils of war, 'tis wondrous strange  
Our loves should thus be dashed. One moment's thought,  
And I'll approach the arms of my beloved.  Joc. 
Consume whole years in care, so now and then  
I may have leave to feed my famished eyes  
With one short passing glance, and sigh my vows:  
This, and no more, my Lord, is all the passion  
Of languishing Jocasta.  [Exit. Oed. 
Thou softest, sweetest of the World! good night.  
Nay, she is beauteous too; yet, mighty Love!  
I never offered to obey thy Laws,  
But an unusual chillness came upon me;  
An unknown hand still checked my forward joy,  
Dashed me with blushes, tho' no light was near:  
That even the Act became a violation.  Pyr. 
He's strangely thoughtful.  Oed. 
Hark! who was that? Ha! Creon, didst thou call me?  Cre. 
Not I, my gracious Lord, nor any here.  Oed. 
That's strange! methought I heard a doleful voice  
Cried Oedipus.— The Prophet bade me sleep;  
He talked of Dreams, and Visions, and to morrow!  
I'll muse no more on't, come what will or can,  
My thoughts are clearer than unclouded Stars;  
And with those thoughts I'll rest: Creon, good night.  [Ex. with Haemon. Cre. 
Sleep seal your eyes, Sir, Eternal sleep.  
But if he must sleep and wake again, O all  
Tormenting Dreams, wild horrors of the night,  
And Hags of Fancy wing him through the air:  
From precipices hurl him headlong down;  
Charybdis roar, and death be set before him.  Alc. 
Your Curses have already ta'en effect;  
For he looks very sad.  Cre. 
May he be rooted, where he stands, for ever;  
His eyeballs never move, brows be unbent,  
His blood, his Entrails, Liver, heart and bowels,  
Be blacker than the place I wish him, Hell.  Pyr. 
No more: you tear yourself, but vex not him.  
Methinks 'twere brave this night to force the Temple,  
While blind Tiresias conjures up the Fiends,  
And pass the time with nice Eurydice.  Alc. 
Try promises, and threats, and if all fail,  
Since Hell's broke loose, why should not you be mad?  
Ravish, and leave her dead, with her Adrastus.  Cre. 
Were the Globe mine, I'd give a Province hourly  
For such another thought. Lust, and revenge!  
To stab at once the only man I hate,  
And to enjoy the woman whom I love!  
I ask no more of my auspicious Stars,  
The rest as Fortune please; so but this night  
She play me fair, why, let her turn for ever.  Enter Haemon. Haem. 
My Lord, the troubled King is gone to rest;  
Yet, ere he slept, commanded me to clear  
The Antichambers: none must dare be near him  Cre. 
Haemon, you do your duty;—  
And we obey.— The night grows yet more dreadful!  
'Tis just that all retire to their devotions;  
The Gods are angry: but to morrow's dawn,  
If Prophets do not lie, will make all clear.  [Thunder. [As they go off. Oedipus Enters, walking asleep in his shirt, with a Dagger in his right hand, and a Taper in his left. Oed. 
O, my Jocasta! 'tis for this the wet  
Starved Soldier lies all night on the cold ground;  
For this he bears the storms  
Of Winter Camps, and freezes in his Arms:  
To be thus circled, to be thus embraced;  
That I could hold thee ever!— Ha! where art thou?  
What means this melancholy light, that seems  
The gloom of glowing embers?  
The Curtain's drawn; and see, she's here again!  
Jocasta? Ha! what, fallen asleep so soon?  
How fares my love? this Taper will inform me.  
Ha! Lightning blast me, Thunder  
Rivet me ever to Prometheus' Rock,  
And Vultures gnaw out my Incestuous heart,  
By all the Gods! my Mother Merope!  
My Sword, a Dagger; Ha, who waits there? slaves,  
My Sword: what, Haemon, dar'st thou, Villain, stop me?  
With thy own Poniard perish. Ha! who's this?  
Or is't a change of Death? By all my Honours,  
New murder; thou hast slain old Polybus:  
Incest and parricide, thy Father's murdered!  
Out thou infernal flame: now all is dark,  
All blind and dismal, most triumphant mischief!  
And now while thus I stalk about the room,  
I challenge Fate to find another wretch  
Like Oedipus!  [Thunder, etc. Enter Jocasta attended, with Lights, in a Nightgown. Oed. 
Night, Horror, Death, Confusion, Hell, and Furies!  
Where am I? O, Jocasta, let me hold thee,  
Thus to my bosom, ages; let me grasp thee:  
All that the hardest tempered weathered flesh,  
With fiercest humane Spirit inspired, can dare  
Or do, I dare; but, oh you Powers, this was  
By infinite degrees too much for man.  
Methinks my deafened ears  
Are burst; my eyes, as if they had been knocked  
By some tempestuous hand, shoot flashing fire:  
That sleep should do this!  Joc. 
Then my fears were true.  
Methought I heard your voice, and yet I doubted,  
Now roaring like the Ocean, when the winds  
Fight with the waves; now, in a still small tone  
Your dying accents fell, as racking ships,  
After the dreadful yell, sink murmuring down,  
And bubble up a noise.  Oed. 
Trust me, thou Fairest, best of all thy Kind,  
None e'er in Dreams was tortured so before,  
Yet what most shocks the niceness of my temper,  
Even far beyond the killing of my Father,  
And my own death, is, that this horrid sleep  
Dashed my sick fancy with an act of Incest:  
I dreamed, Jocasta, that thou wert my Mother;  
Which, tho' impossible, so damps my Spirits,  
That I could do a mischief on myself,  
Lest I should sleep and Dream the like again.  Joc. 
O, Oedipus, too well I understand you!  
I know the wrath of Heaven, the care of Thebes,  
The cries of its Inhabitants, war's toils,  
And thousand other labours of the State,  
Are all referred to you, and aught to take you  
For ever from Jocasta.  Oed. 
Life of my life, and treasure of my Soul,  
Heaven knows I love thee.  Joc. 
O, you think me vile,  
And of an inclination so ignoble,  
That I must hide me from your eyes for ever.  
Be witness, Gods, and strike Jocasta dead,  
If an immodest thought, or low desire  
Inflamed my breast, since first our Loves were lighted.  Oed. 
O rise, and add not, by thy cruel kindness,  
A grief more sensible than all my torments.  
Thou think'st my dreams are forged; but by thyself,  
The greatest Oath, I swear, they are most true:  
But, be they what they will, I here dismiss 'em;  
begone, Chimaeras, to your Mother Clouds,  
Is there a fault in us? Have we not searched  
The womb of Heaven, examined all the Entrails  
Of Birds and Beasts, and tired the Prophets Art.  
Yet what avails? he, and the Gods together,  
Seem like Physicians at a lossto help us:  
Therefore, like wretches that have lingered long,  
we'll snatch the strongest Cordial of our love;  
To bed, my Fair.  Ghost within. 
Oedipus!  Oed. 
Ha! who calls?  
Didst thou not hear a voice?  Joc. 
Alas! I did.  Ghost. 
Jocasta!  Joc. 
O my love, my Lord, support me!  Oed. 
Call louder, till you burst your airy Forms:  
Rest on my hand. Thus, arm'd with innocence,  
I'll face these babbling Daemons of the air.  
In spite of Ghosts, I'll on,  
Tho' round my Bed the Furies plant their Charms;  
I'll break 'em, with Jocasta in my arms:  
Clasped in the folds of love, I'll wait my doom;  
And act my joys, tho' Thunder shake the room.  [Exeunt.  

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.  
A thinking soul is punishment enough;  
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 would be young, be handsome, be beloved:  
Could I but but breath myself 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 killed a Monster, gained a Battle;  
And had my Rival prisoner; brave, brave actions:  
Why have not I done these?  Dio. 
Your fortune hindered.  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 boisterous fool,  
Nay worse, a Woman's fool.  
Fool is the stuff, of which Heaven makes a Hero.  Dio. 
A Serpent ne'er 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 prisoners here,  
But will not long be so: this tell-tale Ghost  
Perhaps will clear 'em both.  Cre. 
Well: 'tis resolved.  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 accused her.  Cre. 
Urge it not.  
I cannot stay to tell thee my design;  
For she's too near.  Enter Eurydice. 
How, Madam, were your thoughts employed!  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 lies your own pale shroud, to hover o'er it,  
Striving to enter your forbidden Corpse;  
And often, often, vainly breathe your Ghost  
Into your lifeless lips:  
Then, like a lone benighted Traveller  
Shut out from lodging, shall your groans be answered  
By whistling winds, whose every blast will shake  
Your tender Form to Atoms.  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 than your discontented Ghost will leave,  
And loath it's former lodging.  
This is the best of what comes after death,  
Even 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.  Cre. 
For her Adrastus!  Eur. 
Yes; for her Adrastus:  
For death shall ne'er divide us: death, what's death!  Dio. 
You seemed to fear it.  Eur. 
But I more fear Creon:  
To take that hunch-backed Monster in my arms.  
th'Excrescence of a man.  Dio. to Cre. 
See what you've gained.  Eur. 
Death only can be dreadful to the bad:  
To innocence, 'tis like a bugbear dressed  
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 accused me  
Of murder and of parricide?  Cre. 
You provoked me:  
And yet I only did thus far accuse you,  
As next of blood to Lajus: be advised,  
And you may live.  Eur. 
The means.  Cre. 
'Tis offered you.  
The Fool Adrastus has accused himself.  Eur. 
He has indeed, to take the guilt from me.  Cre. 
He says he loves you; if he does, 'tis well:  
He ne'er could prove it in a better time.  Eur. 
Then death must be his recompense for love!  Cre. 
'Tis a Fool's just reward:  
The wise can make a better use of life:  
But 'tis the young man's pleasure; his ambition:  
I grudge him not that favour.  Eur. 
When he's dead,  
Where shall I find his equal!  Cre. 
everywhere.  
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;  
A glut of 'em in Thebes.  
And fortune still takes care they should 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 loses by't, 'tis too expensive;  
'Twould 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 thyself: who hast conspired against  
My life and fame, to make me loathed 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 would give his life; give up his fame.—  Enter Adrastus. 
If all the Excellence of womankind  
Were mine;— No, 'tis too little all for him:  
Were I made up of endless, endless joys.—  Adr. 
And so thou art:  
The man who loves like me,  
Would think even Infamy, the worst of ills,  
Were cheaply purchased, were thy love the price:  
Uncrowned, a Captive, nothing left, but Honour;  
'Tis the last thing a Prince should throw away;  
But when the storm grows loud, and threatens love,  
Throw even that overboard, for Love's the Jewel;  
And last it must be kept.  Cre. to Dio. 
Work him besure  
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?  Cre. 
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 battle. For your love,  
Vows made in wine are not so false as that:  
You killed her Father; you confessed you did:  
A mighty argument to prove your passion to the Daughter.  Adrast. aside. 
Gods, must I bear this brand, and not retort  
The lie to his foul throat!  Dio. 
Basely you killed him.  Adr. aside. 
O, I burn inward: my blood's all o'fire.  
Alcides, when the poisoned shirt sat closest,  
Had but an Ague fit to this my Fever.  
Yet, for Eurydice, even this I'll suffer,  
To free my love.— Well then, I killed him basely.  Cre. 
Fairly, I'm sure, you could not.  Dio. 
Nor alone.  Cre. 
You had your fellow-Thieves about you, Prince;  
They conquered, and you killed.  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 could not bear a shameful death,  
Rather than see you burdened with a Crime  
Of which I know you free.  Cre. 
You do ill, Madam,  
To let your headlong Love triumph o'er Nature:  
Dare you defend your Father's Murderer?  Eur. 
You know he killed him not.  Cre. 
Let him say so.  Dio. 
See he stands mute.  Cre. 
O power of Conscience, even 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'er could stain a Villain, not a Prince.  Adr. 
Ha! Villain.  Dio. 
Echo to him Groves: cry Villain.  Adr. 
Let me consider! did I murder Lajus,  
Thus like a Villain?  Cre. 
Best revoke your words;  
And say you killed him not.  Adr. 
Not like a Villain; prithee change me that  
For any other Lye.  Dio. 
No, Villain, Villain.  Cre. 
You killed him not! proclaim your innocence,  
Accuse the Princess: So I knew 'twould be.  Adr. 
I thank thee, thou instruct'st me:  
No matter how I killed him.  Cre. aside. 
Cooled again.  Eur. 
Thou, who usurpest 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 believed, 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 Rival's 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,  
Even of thy foolish death, shall all be mine.  Adr. 
Thine, sayst thou, Monster;  
Shall my love be thine?  
O, I can bear no more!  
Thy cunning Engines, have with labour raised  
My heavy anger, like a mighty weight,  
To fall and pash thee dead.  
See here thy Nuptials; see, thou rash Ixion,  
Thy promised Juno vanished in a Cloud;  
And in her room avenging Thunder rowls  
To blast thee thus.— Come both,—  [Draws. [B Draw. Cre. 
'Tis what I wished!  
Now see whose Arm can launch the surer bolt,  
And who's the better Jove.—  [Fight. Eur. 
Help; Murder, help!  Enter Haemon and Guards, run betwixt them and beat down their Swords. Haem. 
hold; hold your impious hands: I think the Furies,  
To whom this Grove is hallowed, have inspired you:  
Now, by my soul, the holiest earth of Thebes  
You have profaned with war. Nor Tree, nor Plant  
Grows here, but what is fed with Magic 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 reverened Shades  
Have known no blood, but of black Sheep and Oxen,  
Shed by the Priests own hand to Proserpina.  Adr. 
Forgive a Stranger's ignorance: I knew not  
The honours of the place.  Haem. 
Thou, Creon, didst.  
Not Oedipus, were all his Foes here lodged,  
Durst violate the Religion of these Groves,  
To touch one single hair: but must, unarmed,  
Parle as in Truce, or surlily avoid  
What most he longed to kill.  Cre. 
I drew not first;  
But in my own defence.  Adr. 
I was provoked,  
Beyond Man's patience: all reproach could urge  
Was used to kindle one not apt to bear.  Haem. 
'Tis Oedipus, not I, must judge this Act:  
Lord Creon, you and Diocles retire:  
Tiresias, and the Brotherhood of Priests,  
Approach the place: None at these Rites assist,  
But you th' accused, who by the mouth of Lajus  
Must be absolved or doomed.  Adr. 
I bear my fortune.  Eur. 
And I provoke my trial.  Haem. 
'Tis at hand.  
For see the Prophet comes with Vervin crowned,  
The Priests with Yeugh, a venerable band;  
We leave you to the Gods.  [Ex. Haemon with Creon and Diocles. Enter Tiresias, led by Manto: The Priests follow; all clothed in long black Habits. Tir. 
Approach, ye Lovers;  
I'll-fated Pair! whom, seeing not, I know:  
This day your kindly Stars in Heaven were joined:  
When lo, an envious Planet interposed,  
And threatened both with death: I fear, I fear.  Eur. 
Is there no God so much a friend to love,  
Who can control the malice of our fate?  
Are they all deaf? or have the Giant's Heaven?  Tir. 
The Gods are just.—  
But how can Finite measure Infinite?  
Reason! alas, it does not know itself!  
Yet Man, vain Man, would with this short-lined Plummet,  
Fathom the vast Abyss of Heavenly justice.  
What ever is, is in its causes just;  
Since all things are by Fate. But purblind 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 die!  Tir. 
The danger's imminent this day.  Adr. 
Why then there's one day less for humane ills:  
And who would 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 Heaven 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 loath I am to have recourse to Rites  
So full of horror, that I once rejoice  
I want the use of Sight.—  1 Pr. 
The Ceremonies stay.  Tir. 
Choose the darkest part o'th' Grove,  
Such as Ghosts at noonday love.  
Dig a Trench, and dig it nigh  
Where the bones of Lajus lie.  
Altars raised of Turf or Stone,  
Will th' Infernal Powers 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 Heifer 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 Proserpina:  
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 darkened. 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 Heaven.  Tir. 
Am I but half obeyed: Infernal Gods,  
Must you have Music too? then tune your voices,  
And let'em have such sounds as Hell ne'er heard  
Since Orpheus bribed the Shades.  Music first. Then Sing. This to be set through. 1. 
Hear, ye sullen Powers 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 Tongues;  1. 
You that drive the trembling hosts  
Of poor, poor Ghosts,  
With your Sharpened 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 fathoms low.  Chorus. 
Till they drown, etc.  1. 
Music for a while  
Shall your cares beguile:  
Wondering how your pains were eased.  2. 
And disdaining to be pleased;  3. 
Till Allecto 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 holiday.  Chorus. 
Come away, etc.  [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,  Tir. 
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 Hell's blue flame:  
By the Stygian Lake:  
And by Demogorgon's name,  
At which Ghosts quake,  
Hear and appear.  [The Ghost of Lajus rises armed in his Chariot, as he was slain. And behind his Chariot, sit the three who were Murdered with him. Ghost of Lajus. 
Why hast thou drawn me from my pains below,  
To suffer worse above: to see the day,  
And Thebes more hated? Hell is Heaven to Thebes.  
For pity send me back, where I may hide,  
In willing night, this Ignominious head:  
In Hell I shun the public scorn; and then  
They hunt me for their sport, and hoot me as I fly:  
Behold even now they grin at my gored side,  
And chatter at my wounds.  Tir. 
I pity thee:  
Tell but why Thebes is for thy death accursed,  
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 doomed to do what Nature most abhors.  
The Gods foresaw it; and forbade his being,  
Before he yet was born. I broke their laws,  
And clothed with flesh his pre-existing soul,  
Some kinder power, too weak for destiny,  
Took pity, and endued his new formed Mass  
With Temperance, Justice, Prudence, Fortitude,  
And every Kingly virtue: but in vain.  
For Fate, that sent him hoodwinked to the world,  
Performed its work by his mistaking hands.  
Asks thou who murdered me? 'twas Oedipus:  
Who stains my Bed with Incest? Oedipus:  
For whom then are you cursed, but Oedipus!  
He comes; the Parricide: I cannot bear him:  
My wounds ache at him: Oh his murderous breath  
Venoms my airy substance! hence with him,  
Banish him; sweep him out; the Plague he bears  
Will blast your fields, and mark his way with ruin.  
From Thebes, my Throne, my Bed, let him be driven;  
Do you forbid him Earth, and I'll forbid him Heaun.  [Ghost descends. Enter Oedipus, Creon, Haemon, etc. Oed. 
What's this! methought some pestilential blast  
Struck me just entering; 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 entering?  Oed. 
A young Stork,  
That bore his aged Parent on his back;  
Till weary with the weight, he shook him off,  
And pecked 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 Heaven to turn me outward,  
And shake my Soul quite empty in your sight.  
Then wonder not that I can bear unmoved  
These fixed regards, and silent threats of eyes:  
A generous fierceness dwells with innocence;  
And conscious virtue is allowed some pride.  Tir. 
Thou know'st not what thou sayst.  Oed. 
What mutters he! tell me, Eurydice:  
Thou shak'st: thy souls a Woman. Speak, Adrastus;  
And boldly as thou mettest my Arms in fight;  
Dar'st thou not speak, why then 'tis bad indeed:  
Tiresias, thee I summon by the Priesthood,  
Tell me what news from Hell: where Lajus points,  
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  
Would make thee more unhappy: 'twill be found  
Tho' I am silent.  Oed. 
Old and obstinate! Then thou thyself  
Art Author or Accomplice of this murder,  
And shun'st the Justice, which by public ban  
Thou hast incurred.  Tir. 
O, if the guilt were mine  
It were not half so great: know wretched man,  
Thou only, thou art guilty; thy own Curse  
Falls heavy on thyself.  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 Heaven,  
For blushing thou hast seen it: hear me Earth,  
Whose hollow womb could not contain this murder,  
But sent it back to light: and thou Hell, hear me,  
Whose own black Seal has ' firmed this horrid truth,  
Oedipus murdered Lajus.  Oed. 
Rot the tongue,  
And blasted be the mouth that spoke that lie.  
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 Harlot's tears,  
The Tradesman's oaths, and mourning of an Heir,  
Are truths to what Priests tell.  
O why has Priesthood privilege to lie,  
And yet to be believed!— thy age protects thee—  Tir. 
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 thyself a Riddle; a perplexed  
Obscure AEnigma, 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. 
Would I could!  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 suborned to free the Prisoner.  Cre. 
And turn the guilt on you.  Oed. 
O, honest Creon, how hast thou been belied?  Eur. 
Hear me.  Cre. 
She's bribed 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 bribed, all Priests.  Oed. 
Adrastus I have found thee:  
The malice of a vanquished man has seized thee.  Adr. 
If Envy and not Truth—  Oed. 
I'll hear no more: away with him.  [Haemon takes him off by force: Creon and Eurydice follow. To Tir. 
Why stand'st thou here, Impostor!  
So old, and yet so wicked.— lie 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'er we meet again, 'twill be  
In Mutual darkness; we shall feel before us  
To reach each other's hand; Remember Lajus.  [Ex. Tiresias: Priests follow. Oedipus Solus. 
Rememember Lajus! that's the burden still:  
Murder, and Incest! but to hear 'em named  
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 walked sleeping, in some frightful dream,  
My Soul then stole my Body out by night;  
And brought me back to Bed e'er Morning-wake.  
It cannot be even 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 disturbed?  Oed. 
Why, wouldst thou think it?  
No less than Murder?  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 used to lie?  Joc. 
Oh no: the most sincere, plain, honest man.—  
One who abhorred a lie.  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 practised long this Trade?  Joc. 
What Trade?  Oed. 
Why, this foretelling Trade.  Joc. 
For many years.  Oed. 
Has he before this day accused me?  Joc. 
Never.  Oed. 
Have you e'er this enquired, who did this Murder?  Joc. 
Often; but still in vain.  Oed. 
Iam satisfied.  
Then 'tis an infant-lye; but one day old.  
The Oracle takes place before the Priest;  
The blood of Lajus was to Murder Lajus:  
I'm not of Lajus' blood.  Joc. 
Even Oracles  
Are always doubtful, and are often forged:  
Lajus had one, which never was fulfilled,  
Nor ever can be now!  Oed. 
And what foretold it?  Joc. 
That he should have a Son by me, foredoomed  
The Murderer of his Father: true indeed,  
A Son was born; but, to prevent that Crime,  
The wretched Infant of a guilty Fate,  
Bored through his untried feet, and bound with cords,  
On a bleak Mountain, naked was exposed:  
The King himself lived many, many years,  
And found a different Fate; by Robbers Murdered,  
Where three ways meet: yet these are Oracles;  
And this the Faith we owe 'em.  Oed. 
Sayst thou, Woman?  
By Heaven thou hast awakened somewhat in me,  
That shakes my very Soul!  Joc. 
What, new disturbance!  Oed. 
Methought thou saidst,— (or do I dream thou saidst it!)  
This Murder was on Lajus person done,  
Where three ways meet?  Joc. 
So common Fame reports.  Oed. 
Would it had lied.  Joc. 
Why, good my Lord?  Oed. 
No questions:  
'Tis busy time with me; dispatch mine first;  
Say where, where was it done!  Joc. 
Mean you the Murder?  Oed. 
Couldst 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 happened this!  Joc. 
Some little time before you came to Thebes,  Oed. 
What will the Gods do with me!  Joc. 
What means that thought?  Oed. 
Something: but 'tis not yet your turn to ask:  
How old was Lajus, what his shape, his stature,  
His action, and his mien? quick, quick, your answer—  Joc. 
Big made he was, and tall: his port was fierce,  
Erect his countenance: Manly Majesty  
Sat in his front, and darted from his eyes,  
Commanding all he viewed: his hair just grizzled,  
As in a green old age: bate but his years,  
You are his picture.  Oed. aside. 
Pray Heaven 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 traveled?  Joc. 
By four Servants:  
He went out privately.  Oed. 
Well counted still:  
One scaped I hear; what since became of him?  Joc. 
When he beheld you first, as King in Thebes,  
He kneeled, and trembling begged I would dismiss him:  
He had my leave; and now he lives retired.  Oed. 
This Man must be produced; 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 happened once; 'twas at a Bridal Feast,  
One warm with Wine, told me I was a Foundling,  
Not the King's Son; I stung with this reproach,  
Struck him: my Father, heard of it: the Man  
Was made ask pardon; and the business hushed.  Joc. 
'Twas somewhat odd.  Oed. 
And strangely it perplexed me.  
I stole away to Delphos, and implored  
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.  Joc. 
Vain, vain Oracles!  Oed. 
But yet they frighted me;  
I looked on Corinth as a place accursed,  
Resolved 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 named, where three ways meet,  
And near that time, five persons I encountered;  
One was too like, (Heaven grant it prove not him)  
Whom you describe for Lajus: insolent  
And fierce they were, as Men who lived on spoil.  
I judged 'em Robbers, and by force repelled  
The force they used: 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 banished me:  
From Corinth Fate.  Joc. 
Perplex not thus your mind;  
My Husband fell by Multitudes oppressed,  
So Phorbas said: this Band you chanced to meet;  
And murdered not my Lajus, but revenged 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 Virtues or my Crime reveal:  
If wandering in the maze of Fate I run,  
And backward trod the paths I sought to shun,  
Impute my Errors to your own Decree;  
My hands are guilty, but my heart is free.  [Ex. Ambo.  

ACT IV. SCENE I.  Pyracmon, Creon. Pyr. 
SOME business of import that Triumph wears  
You seem to go with; nor is it hard to guests  
When you are pleased, by a malicious joy:  
Whose Red and Fiery Beams cast through your Visage  
A glowing pleasure. Sure you smile revenge,  
And I could gladly hear  Cre. 
Wouldst thou believe.  
This giddy hair-braind King, whom old Tiresias  
Has Thunderstruckk, with heavy accusation,  
Tho' conscious of no inward guilt, yet fears;  
He fears Jocasta, fears himself, his shadow;  
He fears the multitude; and, which is worth  
An Age of laughter, out of all mankind,  
He chooses me to be his Orator:  
Swears that Adrastus, and the lean-looked Prophet,  
Are joint-conspirators; and wish me to  
Appease the raving Thebans; which I swore  
To do.  Pyr. 
A dangerous undertaking;  
Directly opposite to your own interest.  Cre. 
No, dull Pyracmon; when I left his presence  
With all the Wings with which revenge could imp  
My flight, I gained the midst o'th' City;  
There, standing on a Pile of dead and dying,  
I to the mad and sickly multitude,  
With interrupting sobs, cried out, O Thebes,  
O wretched Thebes, thy King, thy Oedipus,  
This barbarous stranger, this Usurper, Monster,  
Is by the Oracle, the wise Tiresias,  
Proclaimed the murderer of thy Royal Lajus:  
Jocasta too, no longer now my Sister,  
Is found complotter in the horrid deed.  
Here I renounce all tie of Blood and Nature,  
For thee, O Thebes, dear Thebes, poor bleeding Thebes.  
And there I wept, and then the Rabble howled,  
And roared, and with a thousand Antic mouths  
Gabbled revenge, Revenge was all the cry.  Pyr. 
This cannot fail: I see you on the Throne;  
And Oedipus cast out.  Cre. 
Then straight came on  
Alcander, with a wild and bellowing Crowd,  
Whom he had wrought; I whispered him to join,  
And head the Forces while the heat was in 'em:  
So to the Palace I returned, to meet  
The King, and greet him with another story.  
But see, he Enters.  Enter Oedipus, Jocasta, attended. Oed. 
Said you that Phorbas is returned, and yet  
Entreats he may return, without being asked  
Of aught concerning what we have discovered?  Joc. 
He started when I told him your intent,  
Replying, what he knew of that affair  
Would give no satisfaction to the King;  
Then, falling on his knees, begged, as for life,  
To be dismissed from Court: He trembled too,  
As if Convulsive death had seized upon him,  
And stammered in his abrupt Prayer so wildly,  
That had he been the murderer of Lajus,  
Guilt and distraction could not have shook him more.  Oed. 
By your description, sure as plagues and death  
Lay waste our Thebes, some deed that shuns the light  
Begot those fears: If thou respectest my peace,  
Secure him, dear Jocasta; for my Genius  
Shrinks at his name.  Joc. 
Rather let him go:  
So my poor boding heart would have it be,  
Without a reason.  Oed. 
Hark, the Thebans come!  
Therefore retire: and, once more, if thou lov'st me,  
Let Phorbas be retained.  Joc. 
You shall, while I  
Have life, be still obeyed:  
In vain you soothe me with your soft endearments;  
And set the fairest Countenance to view,  
Your gloomy eyes, my Lord, betray a deadness  
And inward languishing: that Oracle  
Eats like a subtle Worm it's venomed way,  
Preys on your heart, and rots the noble Core,  
Howe'er the beauteous outside shows so lovely.  Oed. 
O, thou wilt kill me with thy Love's excess!  
All, all is well; retire, the Thebans come.  [Ex. Jocasta. Ghost. 
Oedipus!  Oed. 
Ha! again that scream of woe!  
Thrice have I heard, thrice since the morning dawned  
It hollowed loud, as if my Guardian Spirit  
Called from some vaulted Mansion, Oedipus!  
Or is it but the work of melancholy?  
When the Sun sets, shadows, that showed at Noon  
But small, appear most long and terrible;  
So when we think Fate hovers o'er our heads,  
Our apprehensions shoot beyond all bounds,  
Owls, Ravens, Crickets seem the watch of death,  
Nature's worst Vermin scare her Godlike Sons.  
Echoes, the very leavings of a Voice,  
Grow babbling Ghosts, and call us to our Graves:  
Each Molehill thought swells to a huge Olympus,  
While we fantastic dreamers heave and puff,  
And sweat with an Immagination's weight;  
As if, like Atlas, with these mortal Shoulders  
We could sustain the burden of the World.  [Creon comes forward. Cre. 
O, Sacred Sir, my Royal Lord-—  Oed. 
What now?  
Thou seem'st affrighted at some dreadful action,  
Thy breath comes short, thy darted eyes are fixed  
On me for aid, as if thou wert pursued:  
I sent thee to the Thebans, speak thy wonder;  
Fear not, this Palace is a Sanctuary,  
The King himself's thy Guard.  Cre. 
For me, alas,  
My life's not worth a thought, when weighed with yours!  
But fly, my Lord, fly as your life is sacred,  
Your Fate is precious to your faithful Creon,  
Who therefore, on his knees, thus prostrate begs  
You would remove from Thebes that Vows your ruin.  
When I but offered at your innocence,  
They gathered Stones, and menaced me with Death,  
And drove me through the Streets, with imprecations  
Against your sacred Person, and those Traitors  
Which justified your Guilt: which cursed Tiresias  
Told, as from Heaven, was cause of their destruction.  Oed. 
Rise, worthy Creon, haste and take our Guard,  
Rank 'em in equal part upon the Square,  
Then open every Gate of this our Palace,  
And let the Torrent in. Hark, it comes,  
I hear 'em roar: begone, and break down all  
The dams that would oppose their furious passage.  [Shout. [Ex. Creon with Guards. Enter Adrastus, his Sword drawn. Adr. 
Your City  
Is all in Arms, all bent to your destruction:  
I heard but now, where I was close confined,  
A Thundering shout, which made my Jailers vanish,  
Cry, Fire the Palace; where's the cruel King?  
Yet, by th' Infernal Gods, those awful Powers  
That have accused you, which these ears have heard,  
And these eyes seen, I must believe you guiltless;  
For, since I knew the Royal Oedipus,  
I have observed in all his acts such truth  
And Godlike clearness; that to the last gush  
Of blood and Spirits, I'll defend his life,  
And here have Sworn to perish by his side.  Oed. 
Be witness, Gods, how near this touches me,  
O what, what recompense can glory make?  [Embracing him. Adr. 
Defend your innocence, speak like yourself,  
And awe the Rebels with your dauntless virtue.  
But, hark! the Storm comes nearer.  Oed. 
Let it come.  
The force of Majesty is never known  
But in a general wrack: Then, then is seen  
The difference 'twixt a Threshold and a Throne.  Enter Creon, Pyracmon, Alcander, Tiresias, Thebans! Alc. 
Where, where's this cruel King? Thebans, behold  
There stands your Plague, the ruin, desolation  
Of this unhappy— speak; shall I kill him?  
Or shall he be cast out to Banishment?  All Theb. 
To Banishment, away with him.  Oed. 
Hence, you Barbarians, to your slavish distance;  
Fix to the Earth your sordid looks; for he  
Who stirs, dares more than madmen, Fiends, or Furies:  
Who dares to face me, by the Gods, as well  
May brave the Majesty of Thundering Jove.  
Did I for this relieve you when besieged  
By this fierce Prince, when cooped within your Walls,  
And to the very brink of Fate reduced;  
When lean-jawed Famine made more havoc of you  
Than does the Plague? But I rejoice I know you,  
Know the base stuff that tempered your vile Souls:  
The Gods be praised, I needed not your Empire,  
Born to a greater, nobler, of my own;  
Nor shall the Sceptre of the Earth now win me  
To rule such Brutes, so barbarous a People.  Adr. 
Methinks, my Lord, I see a sad repentance,  
A general consternation spread among 'em.  Oed. 
My Reign is at an end; yet ere I finish—  
I'll do a justice that becomes a Monarch,  
A Monarch, who, i'th' midst of Swords and Javelins,  
Dares act as on his Throne encompassed round  
With Nation's for his Guard. Alcander, you  
Are nobly born, therefore shall lose your head:  
Here, Haemon, take him: but for this, and this,  
Let Cords dispatch 'em. Hence, away with 'em.  [Seizes him. Tir. 
O sacred Prince, pardon distracted Thebes,  
Pardon her, if she acts by heaven's award;  
If that th' Infernal Spirits have declared  
The depth of Fate, and if our Oracles  
May speak, O do not too severely deal,  
But let thy wretched Thebes at least complain:  
If thou art guilty, Heaven will make it known;  
If innocent, then let Tiresias die.  Oed. 
I take thee at thy word. Run, haste, and save Alcander:  
I swear the Prophet, or the King shall die.  
Be witness, all you Thebans, of my Oath;  
And Phorbus be the Umpire.  Tir. 
I submit.  [Trumpets sound. Oed. 
What mean those Trumpets?  Haem. 
From your Native Country,  Enter Haemon with Alcander, etc. 
Great Sir, the famed AEgeon is arrived,  
That renowned Favourite of the King your Father:  
He comes as an Ambassador from Corinth,  
And sues for Audience.  Oed. 
Haste, Haemon, fly, and tell him that I burn  
T' embrace him.  Haem. 
The Queen, my Lord, at present holds him  
In private Conference; but behold her here.  Enter Jocasta, Eurydice, etc. Joc. 
Hail, happy Oedipus, happiest of Kings?  
Henceforth be blessed, blessed as thou canst desire,  
Sleep without fears the blackest nights away;  
Let Furies haunt thy Palace, thou shalt sleep  
Secure, thy slumbers shall be soft and gentle  
As Infant's dreams.  Oed. 
What does the Soul of all my joys intend?  
And whither would this rapture?  Joc. 
O, I could rave,  
Pull down those lying Fanes, and burn that Vault,  
From whence resounded those false Oracles,  
That robbed my Love of rest: if we must pray,  
Rear in the streets bright Altars to the Gods,  
Let Virgins hands adorn the Sacrifice;  
And not a graybeard forging Priest come near,  
To pry into the bowels of the Victim,  
And with his dotage mad the gaping World.  
But see, the Oracle that I will trust,  
True as the Gods, and affable as Men.  Enter AEgeon, Kneels. Oed. 
O, to my arms, welcome, my dear AEgeon;  
Ten thousand welcomes, O, my Foster-Father,  
Welcome as mercy to a Man condemned!  
Welcome to me,  
As, to a sinking Mariner,  
The lucky plank that bears him to the shore!  
But speak, O tell me what so mighty joy  
Is this thou bring'st, which so transports Jocasta?  Joc. 
Peace, peace, AEgeon; let Jocasta tell him!  
O that I could for ever Charm, as now,  
My dearest Oedipus: Thy Royal Father,  
Polybus, King of Corinth, is no more.  Oed. 
Ha! can it be? AEgeon, answer me,  
And speak in short, what my Jocasta's transport  
May over do.  AEge. 
Since in few words, my Royal Lord, you ask  
To know the truth; King Polybus is dead.  Oed. 
O all you Powers, is't possible? what, dead!  
But that the Tempest of my joy may rise  
By just degrees, and hit at last the Stars:  
Say, how, how died he? Ha! by Sword, by Fire,  
Or Water? by Assassinates, or Poison? speak:  
Or did he languish under some disease?  AEge. 
Of no distemper, of no blast he died,  
But fell like Autumn-Fruit that mellowed long:  
Even wondered at, because he dropped no sooner.  
Fate seemed to wind him up for fourscore years;  
Yet freshly ran he on  
Ten Winters more:  
Till, like a Clock worn out with eating time,  
The Wheels of weary life at last stood still.  Oed. 
O, let me press thee in my youthful arms,  
And smother thy old age in my embraces.  
Yes Thebans, yes Jocasta, yes Adrastus,  
Old Polybus, the King my Father's dead.  
Fires shall be kindled in the midst of Thebes;  
I'th' midst of Tumults, Wars, and Pestilence,  
I will rejoice for Polybus his death.  
Know, be it known to the limits of the World;  
Yet farther, let it pass yond dazzling roof,  
The mansion of the Gods, and strike 'em deaf  
With everlasting peals of Thundering joy.  Tir. 
Fate! Nature! Fortune! what is all this world?  Oed. 
Now, Dotard; now, thou blind old wizard Prophet,  
Where are your boding Ghosts, your Altars now;  
Your Birds of knowledge, that, in dusky Air,  
Chatter Futurity; and where are now  
Your Oracles, that called me Parricide,  
Is he not dead? deep laid in's Monument?  
And was not I in Thebes when Fate attacked him?  
Avaunt, begun, you Vizors of the Gods!  
Were I as other Sons, now I should weep;  
But, as I am, I've reason to rejoice:  
And will, tho' his cold shade should rise and blast me.  
O, for this death, let Waters break their bounds,  
Rocks, Valleys, Hills, with splitting Io's ring:  
Io, Jocasta, Io poean sing.  Tir. 
Who would not now conclude a happy end?  
But all Fate's turns are swift and unexpected.  AEge. 
Your Royal Mother Merope, as if  
She had no Soul since you forsook the Land,  
Waves all the neighbouring Princes that adore her.  Oed. 
Waves all the Princes! poor heart! for what? O spe  AEge. 
She, tho' in full-blown flower of glorious beauty,  
Grows cold, even in the Summer of her Age:  
And, for your sake, has sworn to die unmarried.  Oed. 
How! for my sake, die, and not marry! O,  
My fit returns.  AEge. 
This Diamond, with a thousand kisses blessed,  
With thousand sighs and wishes for your safety,  
She charged me give you, with the general homage  
Of our Corinthian Lords.  Oed. 
There's Magic in it, take it from my sight;  
There's not a beam it darts, but carries Hell,  
Hot flashing lust, and Necromantic Incest:  
Take it from these sick eyes, Oh hide it from me.  
No, my Jocasta, tho' Thebes cast me out,  
While Merope's alive, I'll ne'er return!  
O, rather let me walk round the wide World  
A beggar, than accept a Diadem  
On such abhorred conditions.  Joc. 
You make, my Lord, your own unhappiness,  
By these extravagant and needless fears.  Oed. 
Needless! O, all you Gods! By Heaven I'd rather  
Imbrue my arms up to my very shoulders  
In the dear entrails of the best of Fathers,  
Than offer at the execrable act  
Of damned Incest: therefore no more of her.  AEge. 
And why, O sacred Sir, if Subjects may  
Presume to look into their Monarch's breast,  
Why should the chaste and spotless Merope  
Infuse such thoughts as I must blush to name?  Oed. 
Because the God of Delphos did forewarn me,  
With Thundering Oracles.  AEge. 
May I entreat to know 'em?  Oed. 
Yes, my AEgeon; but the sad remembrance  
Quite blasts my Soul: see then the swelling Priest!  
Methinks I have his Image now in view;  
He mounts the Tripos in a minute's space,  
His clouded head knocks at the Temple roof,  
While from his mouth  
These dismal words are heard:  
" Fly, wretch, whom Fate has doomed thy Father's blood to spill,  
" And with preposterous Births, thy Mother's womb to fill.  AEge. 
Is this the Cause  
Why you refuse the Diadem of Corinth.  Oed. 
The Cause! why, is it not a monstrous one?  AEge. 
Great Sir, you may return; and tho' you should  
Enjoy the Queen (which all the Gods forbid)  
The Act would prove no incest.  Oed. 
How, AEgeon?  
Tho' I enjoyed my Mother, not incestuous!  
Thou ravest, and so do I; and these all catch  
My madness; look, they're dead with deep distraction:  
Not Incest! what, not Incest with my Mother?  AEge. 
My Lord, Queen Merope is not your Mother.  Oed. 
Ha! did I hear thee right? not Merope  
My Mother!  AEge. 
Nor was Polybus your Father.  Oed. 
Then all my days and nights must now be spent  
In curious search, to find out those dark Parents  
Who gave me to the World; speak then AEgeon,  
By all the God's Celestial and Infernal,  
By all the ties of Nature, blood, and friendship,  
Conceal not from this racked despairing King  
A point or smallest grain of what thou know'st:  
Speak then, O answer to my doubts directly.  
If Royal Polybus was not my Father,  
Why was I called his Son?  AEge. 
He, from my Arms,  
Received you as the fairest Gift of Nature.  
Not but you were adorned with all the Riches  
That Empire could bestow in costly Mantles  
Upon its Infant Heir.  Oed. 
But was I made the Heir of Corinth's Crown,  
Because AEgeon's hands presented me?  AEge. 
By my advice,  
Being past all hope of Children,  
He took, embraced, and owned you for his Son.  Oed. 
Perhaps I then am yours; instruct me, Sir:  
If it be so, I'll kneel and weep before you,  
With all th' obedience of a penitent Child,  
Imploring pardon.  
Kill me if you please,  
I will not writhe my Body at the wound:  
But sink upon your feet with a last sigh,  
And ask forgiveness with my dying hands.  AEge. 
O rise, and call not to this aged Cheek  
The little blood which should keep warm my heart;  
You are not mine, nor ought I to be blessed  
With such a Godlike offspring. Sir, I found you  
Upon the Mount Cithaeron.  Oed. 
O speak, go on, the Air grows sensible  
Of the great things you utter, and is calm:  
The hurried Orbs, with Storms so Racked of late,  
Seem to stand still, as if that Jove were talking.  
Cithaeron! speak, the Valley of Cithaeron!  AEge. 
Ofttimes before I thither did resort,  
Charmed with the conversation of a man  
Who led a Rural life, and had command  
O'er all the Shepherds who about those Vales  
Tended their numerous Flocks: in this man's Arms  
I saw you smiling at a fatal Dagger  
Whose point he often offered at your throat;  
But than you smiled, and then he drew it back;  
Then lifted it again, you smiled again:  
Till he at last in fury threw it from him,  
And cried aloud, the Gods forbid thy death.  
Then I rushed in, and, after some discourse,  
To me he did bequeath your innocent life;  
And I, the welcome care to Polybus.  Oed. 
To whom belongs the Master of the Shepherds?  AEge. 
His name I knew not, or I have forgot,  
That he was of the Family of Lajus,  
I well remember.  Oed. 
And is your Friend alive? for if he be  
I'll buy his presence, tho'it cost my Crown.  AEge. 
Your menial Attendants best can tell  
Whether he lives, or not; and who has now  
His place.  Joc. 
Winds, bear me to some barren Island,  
Where print of humane Feet was never seen,  
O'ergrown with Weeds of such a monstrous height,  
Their baleful tops are washed with bellying Clouds:  
Beneath whose venomous shade I may have vent  
For horrors that would blast the Barbarous World.  Oed. 
If there be any here that knows the person  
Whom he described, I charge him on his life  
To speak; concealment shall be sudden death:  
But he who brings him forth, shall have reward  
Beyond Ambition's lust.  Tir. 
His name is Phorbas:  
Jocasta knows him well; but if I may  
Advise, Rest where you are, and seek no farther.  Oed. 
Then all goes well; Since Phorbas is secured  
By my Jocasta. Haste, and bring him forth:  
My Love, my Queen, give Orders. Ha! what means  
These Tears and Groans, and Struggle? speak, my Fair,  
What are thy troubles?  Joc. 
Yours; and yours are mine:  
Let me Conjure you take the Prophet's Counsel,  
And let this Phorbas go.  Oed. 
Not for the World.  
By all the Gods, I'll know my birth, tho' death  
Attends the search: I have already past  
The middle of the Stream; and to return  
Seems greater labour, than to venture o'er.  
Therefore produce him.  Joc. 
Once more, by the Gods,  
I beg, my Oedipus, my Lord, my Life,  
My love, my all, my only utmost hope,  
I beg you banish Phorbas: O, the Gods,  
I kneel, that you may grant this first request.  
Deny me all things else; but, for my sake,  
And as you prize your own eternal quiet,  
Never let Phorbas come into your presence.  Oed. 
You must be raised, and Phorbas shall appear,  
Tho' his dread eyes were Basilisks. Guards, haste,  
Search the Queen's Lodgings; find, and force him hither.  [Exeunt Guards. Joc. 
O, Oedipus, yet send,  
And stop their entrance, ere it be too late:  
Unless you wish to see Jocasta rent  
With Furies, slain out right with mere distraction,  
Keep from your eyes and mine the dreadful Phorbas.  
Forbear this search, I'll think you more than mortal:  
Will you yet hear me?  Oed. 
Tempest's will be heard,  
And Waves will dash, though Rocks their basis keep,—  
But see, they Enter. If thou truly lov'st me,  
Either forbear this Subject, or retire.  Enter Haemon, Guards, with Phorbas. Joc. 
Prepare then, wretched Prince, prepare to hear  
A story, that shall turn thee into Stone,  
Could there be hewn a monstrous Gap in Nature,  
A flaw made through the Centre, by some God,  
Through which the groans of Ghosts might strike thy ears,  
They would not wound thee, as this Story will.  
Hark, hark! a hollow Voice calls out aloud,  
Jocasta: yes, I'll to the Royal Bed,  
Where first the Mysteries of our loves were acted,  
And double die it with imperial Crimson;  
Tear off this curling hair,  
Be gorged with Fire, stab every vital part,  
And, when at last I'm slain, to Crown the horror,  
My poor tormented Ghost shall cleave the ground,  
To try if Hell can yet more deeply wound.  [Ex. Oed. 
She's gone; and as she went, methought her eyes  
Grew larger, while a thousand frantic Spirits  
Seething, like rising bubbles, on the brim,  
Peeped from the Watery brink, and glowed upon me.  
I'll seek no more; but hush my Genius up  
That throws me on my Fate.— Impossible!  
O wretched Man, whose too too busy thoughts  
Ride swifter than the galloping heavens' round,  
With an eternal hurry of the Soul:  
Nay, there's a time when even the rolling year  
Seems to stand still, dead calms are in the Ocean,  
When not a breath disturbs the drowsy Waves:  
But Man, the very Monster of the World,  
Is ne'er at rest, the Soul for ever wakes.  
Come then, since Destiny thus drives us on,  
Let's know the bottom. Haemon, you I sent:  
Where is that Phorbas.  Haem. 
Here, my Royal Lord.  Oed. 
Speak first, AEgeon, say, is this the Man?  AEge, 
My Lord, it is: Tho' time has ploughed that face  
With many furrows since I saw it first;  
Yet I'm too well acquainted with the ground, quite to forget it.  Oed. 
Peace; stand back a while.  
Come hither Friend; I hear thy name is Phorbas.  
Why dost thou turn thy face? I charge thee answer  
To what I shall inquire: Wert thou not once  
The Servant of King Lajus here in Thebes?  Phor. 
I was, great Sir, his true and faithful Servant;  
Born and bred up in Court, no foreign Slave.  Oed. 
What Office hadst thou? what was thy Employment?  Phor. 
He made me Lord of all his Rural Pleasures;  
For much he loved 'em: oft I entertained  
With sporting Swains, o'er whom I had command.  Oed. 
Where was thy Residence? to what part o'th' Country  
Didst thou most frequently resort?  Phor. 
To Mount Citharon, and the pleasant Valleys  
Which all about lie shadowing its large feet.  Oed. 
Come forth AEgeon. Ha! why starts thou, Phorbas?  
Forward, I say, and Face to Face confront him;  
Look wistly on him, through him if thou canst,  
And tell me on thy life, say, dost thou know him?  
Didst thou ere see him? converse with him  
Near Mount Cithaeron?  Phor. 
Who, my Lord, this man?  Oed. 
This Man, this old, this venerable Man:  
Speak, didst thou ever meet him there?  Phor. 
Where, sacred Sir.  Oed. 
Near Mount Cithaeron; answer to the purpose:  
'Tis a King speaks; and Royal minutes are  
Of much more worth than thousand Vulgar years:  
Didst thou ere see this Man near Mount Cithaeron.  Phor. 
Most sure, my Lord, I have seen lines like those  
His Visage bears; but know not where nor when.  AEge. 
Is't possible you should forget your ancient Friend?  
There are perhaps  
Particulars, which may excite your dead remembrance.  
Have you forgot I took an Infant from you,  
Doomed to be murdered in that gloomy Vale?  
The Swadling-bands were purple, wrought with Gold,  
Have you forgot too how you wept and begged  
That I should breed him up, and ask no more.  Phor. 
Whate'er I begged; thou like a Dotared, speak'st  
More than is requisite: and what of this?  
Why is it mentioned now? and why, O why  
Dost thou betray the secrets of thy Friend?  AEge. 
Be not too rash. That Infant grew at last  
A King: and here the happy Monarch stands.  Phor. 
Ha! whither wouldst thou? O what hast thou uttered!  
For what thou hast said, Death strike thee dumb for ever.  Oed. 
Forbear to Curse the innocent; and be  
Accursed thyself, thou shifting Traitor, Villain,  
Damned Hypocrite, equivocating Slave.  Phor. 
O heavens'! wherein, my Lord, have I offended?  Oed. 
Why speak you not according to my charge?  
Bring forth the Rack: since mildness cannot win you,  
Torments shall force.  Phor. 
Hold, hold, O dreadful Sir;  
You will not Rack an innocent old man.  Oed. 
Speak then.  Phor. 
Alas, what would you have me say?  Oed. 
Did this old man take from your Arms an Infant?  Phor. 
He did: And, Oh! I wish to all the Gods,  
Phorbas had perished in that very moment.  Oed. 
Moment! Thou shalt be hours, days, years a dying.  
Here, bind his hands; he dallies with my fury:  
But I shall find a way—  Phor. 
My Lord, I said  
I gave the Infant to him.  Oed. 
Was he thy own, or given thee by another?  Phor. 
He was not mine; but given me by another.  Oed. 
Whence? and from whom? what City? of what House?  Phor. 
O, Royal Sir, I bow me to the ground,  
Would I could sink beneath it: by the Gods,  
I do Conjure you to inquire no more.  Oed. 
Furies and Hell! Haemon, bring forth the Rack;  
Fetch hither Cords, and Knives, and Sulphurous flames:  
He shall be bound, and gashed, his skin flayed off,  
And burned alive.  Phor. 
O spare my age.  Oed. 
Rise then, and speak.  Phor. 
Dread Sir, I will.  Oed. 
Who gave that Infant to thee?  Phor. 
One of King Lajus Family.  Oed. 
O, you immortal Gods! But say, who was't?  
Which of the Family of Lajus gave it?  
A Servant; or one of the Royal-blood?  Phor. 
O wretched State! I die, unless I speak;  
And, if I speak, most certain death attends me!  Oed. 
Thou shalt not die. Speak then, who was it? speak,  
While I have sense to understand the horror;  
For I grow cold.  Phor. 
The Queen Jocasta told me  
It was her Son by Lajus.  Oed. 
O you Gods!— But did she give it thee?  Phor. 
My Lord, she did.  Oed. 
Wherefore? for what?— O break not yet, my heart;  
Tho' my eyes burst, no matter: wilt thou tell me,  
Or must I ask for ever? for what end?  
Why gave she thee her Child?  Phor. 
To murder it.  Oed. 
O more than savage! murder her own bowels!  
Without a Cause!  Phor. 
There was a dreadful one,  
Which had foretold, that most unhappy Son  
Should kill his Father, and enjoy his Mother.  Oed. 
But, one thing more,  
Jocasta told me thou wert by the Chariot  
When the old King was slain: Speak, I conjure thee,  
For I shall never ask thee aught again,  
What was the number of th' Assassinates?  Phor. 
The dreadful deed was acted but by one;  
And sure that one had much of your resemblance.  Oed. 
'Tis well! I thank you, Gods! 'tis wondrous well!  
Daggers, and Poison; O there is no need  
For my dispatch: and you, you merciless Powers,  
Hoord up your Thunder-stones; keep, keep your Bolts  
For Crimes of little note.  [Falls. Adr. 
Help, Haemon, help, and bow him gently forward;  
Chafe, chafe his Temples: how the mighty Spirits,  
Half strangled with the damp his sorrows raiseed,  
Struggle for vent: but see, he breathes again,  
And vigorous Nature breaks through all opposition.  
How fares my Royal Friend?  Oed. 
The worse for you.  
O barbarous men, and oh the hated light,  
Why did you force me back to curse the day;  
To curse my friends; to blast with this dark breath  
The yet untainted Earth and circling Air?  
To raise new Plagues, and call new Vengeance down,  
Why did you tempt the Gods, and dare to touch me?  
Methinks there's not a hand that grasps this Hell  
But should run up like Flax all blazing fire.  
Stand from this spot, I wish you as my friends,  
And come not near me, lest the gaping Earth  
Swallow you too— Lo, I am gone already.  [Draws, and claps his Sword to his breast, which Adrastus strikes away with his foot. Adr. 
You shall no more be trusted with your life:  
Creon, Alcander, Haemon, help to hold him.  Oed. 
Cruel Adrastus! wilt thou, Haemon, too?  
Are these the Obligations of my Friends?  
O worse than worst of my most barbarous Foes!  
Dear, dear Adrastus, look with half an Eye  
On my unheardof Woes, and judge thyself,  
If it be fit that such a Wretch should live!  
O, by these melting Eyes, unused to weep,  
With all the low submissions of a Slave,  
I do conjure thee give my horrors way;  
Talk not of life, for that will make me rave:  
As well thou may'st advise a tortured wretch,  
All mangled o'er from head to foot with wounds,  
And his bones broke, to wait a better day.  Adr. 
My Lord, you ask me things impossible;  
And I with Justice should be thought your Foe,  
To leave you in this Tempest of your Soul.  Tir. 
Tho' banished Thebes, in Corinth you may Reign;  
Th' Infernal Powers themselves exact no more:  
Calm then your rage, and once more seek the Gods.  Oed. 
I'll have no more to do with Gods, nor Men:  
Hence, from my Arms, avaunt. Enjoy thy Mother!  
What, violate, with bestial appetite,  
The sacred Veils that wrapped thee yet unborn,  
This is not to be born! Hence; off, I say;  
For they who let my Vengeance make themselves  
Accomplices in my most horrid guilt.  Adr. 
Let it be so; we'll fence heavens' fury from you,  
And suffer all together: This perhaps,  
When ruin comes, may help to break your fall.  Oed. 
O that, as oft I have at Athens seen  
The Stage arise, and the big Clouds descend;  
So now in very deed I might behold  
The ponderous Earth, and all you marble Roof  
Meet, like the hands of Jove, and crush Mankind:  
For all the Elements, and all the Powers  
Celestial, nay, Terrestrial and Infernal,  
Conspire the rack of outcast Oedipus.  
Fall darkness then, and everlasting night  
Shadow the Globe; may the Sun never dawn,  
The Silver Moon be blotted from her Orb;  
And for an Universal rout of Nature  
Through all the inmost Chambers of the Sky,  
May there not be a glimpse, one Starry spark,  
But Gods meet Gods, and justle in the dark.  
That jars may rise, and wrath Divine be hurled,  
Which may to Atoms shake the solid World.  [Exeunt.  

ACTU. SCENE I.  Creon, Alcander, Pyracmon. Cre. 
THEBES is at length my own; and all my wishes,  
Which sure were great as Royalty e'er formed,  
Fortune and my auspicious Stars have Crowned.  
O Diadem, thou Centre of ambition,  
Where all it's different Lines are reconciled,  
As if thou wert the burning-glass of Glory!  Pyr. 
Might I be Counsellor, I would entreat you  
To cool a little, Sir;  
Find out Eurydice;  
And, with the resolution of a man  
Marked out for Greatness, give the fatal Choice  
Of death or marriage.  Alc. 
Survey cursed Oedipus,  
As one who, tho' unfortunate, 's beloved,  
Thought innocent, and therefore much lamented  
By all the Thebans; you must mark him dead:  
Since nothing but his death, not banishment,  
Can give assurance to your doubtful Reign.  Cre. 
Well have you done, to snatch me from the storm  
Of racking Transport, where the little streams  
Of Love, Revenge, and all the under passions,  
As waters are by sucking Whirlpools drawn,  
Were quite devoured in the vast Gulf of Empire:  
Therefore, Pyracmon, as you boldly urged,  
Eurydice shall die, or be my Bride.  
Alcander, Summon to their Master's aid  
My Menial Servants, and all those whom change  
Of State, and hope of the new Monarch's favour,  
Can win to take our part: Away. What now?  [Ex. Alcander. Enter Haemon. 
When Haemon weeps, without the help of Ghosts,  
I may foretell there is a fatal Cause.  Haem. 
Is't possible you should be ignorant  
Of what has happened to the desperate King?  Cre. 
I know no more, but that he was conducted  
Into his Closet, where I saw him fling  
His trembling Body on the Royal Bed;  
All left him there, at his desire, alone:  
But sure no ill, unless he died with grief,  
Could happen, for you bore his Sword away.  Haem. 
I did; and, having locked the door, I stood;  
And through a chink I found, not only heard,  
But saw him, when he thought no eye beheld him:  
At first, deep sighs heaved from his woeful heart,  
Murmurs, and groans, that shook the outward Rooms,  
And art thou still alive, Oh wretch! he cried?  
Then groaned again, as if his sorrowful Soul  
Had cracked the strings of Life, and burst away.  Cre. 
I weep, to hear; how then should I have grieved  
Had I beheld this wondrous heap of Sorrow!  
But, to the fatal period.  Haem. 
Thrice he struck,  
With all his force, his hollow groaning breast,  
And thus, with out-cries, to himself complained.  
But thou canst weep then, and thou think'st 'tis well,  
These bubbles of the shallowest emptiest sorrow,  
Which Children vent for toys, and Women rain  
For any Trifle their fond hearts are set on;  
Yet these thou think'st are ample satisfaction  
For bloodiest Murder, and for burning Lust:  
No, Parricide; if thou must weep, weep blood;  
Weep Eyes, instead of Tears: O, by the Gods,  
'Tis greatly thought, he cried, and fits my woes.  
Which said, he smiled revengefully, and leapt  
Upon the floor; thence gazing at the Skies,  
His Eyeballs fiery Red, and glowing vengeance;  
Gods, I accuse you not, tho' I no more  
Will view your Heaven, till with more durable glasses,  
The mighty Souls immortal Perspectives,  
I find your dazzling Being's: Take, he cried,  
Take, Eyes, your last, your fatal farewel-view.  
When with a groan, that seemed the call of Death,  
With horrid force lifting his impious hands,  
He snatched, he tore, from forth their bloody Orbs  
The Balls of sight, and dashed 'em on the ground.  Cre. 
A Masterpiece of horror; new and dreadful!  Haem. 
I ran to succour him; but, oh! too late;  
For he had plucked the remnant strings away.  
What then remains, but that I find Tiresias,  
Who, with his Wisdom, may allay those Furies  
That haunt his gloomy Soul?  [Ex. Cre. 
Heaven will reward  
Thy care; most honest, faithful, foolish Haemon!  
But see, Alcander enters, well attended.  Enter Alcander, attended. 
I see, thou hast been diligent.  Alc. 
Nothing these,  
For Number, to the Crowds that soon will follow;  
Be resolute,  
And call your utmost Fury to revenge.  Cre. 
Ha! thou hast given  
Th' Alarm to Cruelty; and never may  
These eyes be closed, till they behold Adrastus  
Stretched at the feet of false Eurydice.  
But see, they're here! retire a while, and mark.  Enter Adrastus, Eurydice, attended. Adr. 
Alas, Eurydice, what fond rash man,  
What inconsiderate and ambitious Fool,  
That shall hereafter read the Fate of Oedipus,  
Will dare, with his frail hand, to grasp a Sceptre?  Eur. 
'Tis true, a Crown seems dreadful, and I wish  
That you and I, more lowly placed, might pass  
Our softer hours in humble Cells away:  
Not but I love you to that Infinite height,  
I could (O wondrous proof of fiercest Love!)  
Be greatly wretched in a Court with you.  Adr. 
Take then this most loved innocence away;  
Fly from Tumultuous Thebes,  
From blood and Murder,  
Fly from the Author of all Villainies,  
Rapes, Death, and Treason, from that Fury Creon:  
Vowchsafe that I, o'erjoyed, may bear you hence,  
And at your Feet present the Crown of Argos.  [Creon and Attendants come up to him. Cre. 
I have o'erheard thy black design, Adrastus.  
And therefore, as a Traitor to this State,  
Death ought to be thy Lot: let it suffice  
That Thebes surveys thee as a Prince; abuse not  
Her proffered mercy, but retire betimes,  
Lest she repent and hasten on thy Doom.  Adr. 
Think not, most abject,  
Most abhorred of Men,  
Adrastus will vouchsafe to answer thee;  
Thebans, to you I justify my Love:  
I have addressed my Prayers to this fair Princess;  
But, if I ever meant a violence,  
Or thought to Ravish, as that Traitor did,  
What humblest Adorations could not win;  
Brand me, you Gods, blot me with foul dishonour,  
And let men Curse me by the name of Creon!  Eur. 
Hear me, O Thebans, if you dread the wrath  
Of her whom Fate ordained to be your Queen,  
Hear me, and dare not, as you prize your lives,  
To take the part of that Rebellious Traitor.  
By the Decree of Royal Oedipus,  
By Queen Jocasta's order, by what's more,  
My own dear Vows of everlasting Love,  
I here resign to Prince Adrastus' Arms  
All that the World can make me Mistress of.  Cre. 
O perjured Woman!  
Draw all; and when I give the word, fall on.  
Traitor, resign the Princess, or this moment  
Expect, with all those most unfortunate wretches,  
Upon this spot straight to be hewn in pieces.  Adr. 
No, Villain, no;  
With twice those odds of men,  
I doubt not in this Cause  
To vanquish thee.  
Captain, remember to your care I give  
My Love; ten thousand thousand times more dear  
Than Life, or Liberty.  Cre. 
Fall on, Alcander.  
Pyracmon, you and I must wheel about  
For nobler Game, the Princess.  Adr. 
Ah, Traitor, dost thou shun me?  
Follow, follow,  
My brave Companions; see, the Cowards fly.  [Ex. fighting: Creon's Party beaten off by Adrastus. Enter Oedipus. Oed. 
O, 'tis too little this, thy loss of sight,  
What has it done? I shall be gazed at now  
The more; be pointed at, There goes the Monster!  
Nor have I hid my horrors from myself;  
For tho' corporeal light be lost for ever,  
The bright reflecting Soul, through glaring Optics,  
Presents in larger size her black Ideas,  
Doubling the bloody prospect of my Crimes:  
Holds Fancy down, and makes her act again,  
With Wife and Mother, Tortures, Hell, and Furies.  
Ha! now the baleful off-spring's brought to light!  
In horrid form they rank themselves before me;  
What shall I call this Medley of Creation?  
Here one, with all th' obedience of a Son,  
Borrowing Jocasta's look, kneels at my Feet,  
And calls me Father; there a sturdy Boy,  
Resembling Lajus just as when I killed him,  
Bears up, and with his cold hand grasping mine,  
Cries out, How fares my Brother Oedipus?  
What, Sons and Brothers! Sisters and Daughter's too!  
Fly all, begone, fly from my whirling brain;  
Hence, Incest, Murder; hence, you ghastly figures!  
O Gods! Gods, answer; is there any mean?  
Let me go mad, or die.  Enter Jocasta. Joc. 
Where, where is this most wretched of mankind,  
This stately Image of Imperial Sorrow,  
Whose story told, whose very name but mentioned,  
Would cool the rage of Fevers, and unlock  
The hand of Lust from the pale Virgin's hair,  
And throw the Ravisher before her feet?  Oed. 
By all my fears, I think Jocasta's Voice!  
Hence; fly; begone: O thou far worse than worst  
Of damning Charmers! O abhorred, loathed Creature!  
Fly, by the Gods, or by the Fiends, I charge thee,  
Far as the East, West, North, or South of Heaven;  
But think not thou shalt ever enter there:  
The golden Gates are barred with Adamant,  
'Gainst thee, and me; and the Celestial Guards,  
Still as we rise, will dash our Spirits down.  Joc. 
O wretched Pair! O greatly wretched we!  
Two Worlds of woe!  Oed. 
Art thou not gone then? ha!  
How dar'st thou stand the Fury of the Gods?  
Or com'st thou in the Grave to reap new pleasures?  Joc. 
Talk on; till thou mak'st mad my rolling brain;  
Groan still more Death; and may those dismal sources  
Still bubble on, and pour forth blood and tears.  
Methinks, at such a meeting, Heaven stands still;  
The Sea nor Ebbs, nor Flows: this Molehill Earth  
Is heaved no more: the busy Emmets cease;  
Yet hear me on—  Oed. 
Speak then, and blast my Soul.  Joc. 
O, my loved Lord, tho' I resolve a Ruin  
To match my Crimes; by all my miseries,  
'Tis horror, worse than thousand thousand deaths,  
To send me hence without a kind Farewell.  Oed. 
Gods, how she shakes me! stay thee, O Jocasta,  
Speak something ere thou goest forever from me.  Joc. 
'Tis Woman's weakness, that I would be pitied;  
Pardon me then, O greatest, tho' most wretched,  
Of all thy Kind: my Soul is on the brink  
And sees the boiling Furnace just beneath:  
Do not thou push me off, and I will go  
With such a willingness, as if that Heaven  
With all its glories glowed for my reception.  Oed. 
O, in my heart, I feel the pangs of Nature;  
It works with kindness o'er: Give, give me way;  
I feel a melting here, a tenderness,  
Too mighty for the anger of the Gods!  
Direct me to thy knees, yet oh forbear:  
Lest the dead Embers should revive,  
Stand off— and at just distance  
Let me groan my horrors— here  
On the Earth, here blow my utmost Gale;  
Here sob my Sorrows, till I burst with sighing:  
Here gasp and Languish out thy wounded Soul.  Joc. 
In spite of all those Crimes the cruel Gods  
Can charge me with, I know my Innocence;  
Know yours: 'tis Fate alone that makes us wretched,  
For you are still my Husband.  Oed. 
Swear I am,  
And I'll believe thee; steal into thy Arms,  
Renew endearments, think 'em no pollutions,  
But chaste as Spirits joys: gently I'll come,  
Thus weeping blind, like dewy Night, upon thee,  
And fold thee softly in my Arms to slumber.  [The Ghost of Lajus ascends by degrees, pointing at Jocasta. Joc. 
begone, my Lord! Alas, what are we doing?  
Fly from my Arms! Whirlwinds, Seas, Continents,  
And Worlds, divide us! O thrice happy thou,  
Who hast no use of eyes; for here's a sight  
Would turn the melting face of Mercy's self  
To a wild Fury.  Oed. 
Ha! what seest thou there?  Joc. 
the Spirit of my Husband! O the Gods!  
How won he looks!  Oed. 
Thou ravest; thy Husband's here.  Joc. 
There, there he Mounts,  
In circling fire, amongst the blushing Clouds!  
And see, he waves Jocasta from the World!  Ghost. 
Jocasta, Oedipus.  [Vanish with Thunder. Oed. 
What wouldst thou have?  
Thou know'st I cannot come to thee, detained  
In darkness here, and kept from means of death.  
I've heard a Spirit's force is wonderful;  
At whose approach, when starting from his Dungeon,  
The Earth does shake, and the old Ocean groans,  
Rocks are removed, and towers are Thundered down:  
And walls of Brass, and Gates of Adamant,  
Are passable as Air, and fleet like Winds.  Joc. 
Was that a Raven's Croak; or my Son's Voice?  
No matter which; I'll to the Grave, and hide me:  
Earth open, or I'll tear thy bowels up.  
Hark! he goes on, and blabs the deed of Incest.  Oed. 
Strike then, Imperial Ghost; dash all at once  
This House of Clay into a thousand pieces:  
That my poor lingering Soul may take her flight  
To your Immortal Dwellings.  Joc. 
Haste thee then,  
Or I shall be before thee: See, thou canst not see;  
Then I will tell thee that my wings are on:  
I'll mount, I'll fly, and with a port Divine  
Glide all along the gaudy Milky soil,  
To find my Lajus out; ask every God  
In his bright Palace, if he knows my Lajus,  
My murdered Lajus!  Oed. 
Ha! how's this, Jocasta?  
Nay, if thy brain be sick, than thou art happy.  Joc. 
Ha! will you not? shall I not find him out?  
Will you not show him? are my tears despised?  
Why, then I'll Thunder, yes, I will be mad,  
And fright you with my cries,: yes, cruel Gods,  
Tho' Vultures, Eagles, Dragons tear my heart,  
I'll snatch Celestial flames, fire all your dwellings,  
Melt down your golden Roofs, and make your doors  
Of Crystal fly from off their Diamond Hinges;  
Drive you all out from your Ambrosial Hives,  
To swarm like Bees about the field of Heaven:  
This will I do, unless you show me Lajus,  
My dear, my murdered Lord. O Lajus! Lajus! Lajus!  [Ex. Jocasta. Oed. 
Excellent grief! why, this is as it should be!  
No Mourning can be suitable to Crimes  
Like ours, but what Death makes, or Madness forms.  
I could have wished methought for sight again,  
To mark the Gallantry of her distraction:  
Her blazing Eyes darting the wandering Stars,  
T'have seen her mouth the heavens', and mate the Gods,  
While with her Thundering Voice she menaced high,  
And every Accent twanged with smarting sorrow;  
But what's all this to thee? thou, Coward, yet  
Art living, canst not, wilt not find the Road  
To the great Palace of magnificent Death;  
Tho' thousand ways lead to histhousand doors,  
Which day and night are still unbarred for all.  [Clashing of Swords: Drums and Trumpets without. 
Hark! 'tis the noise of clashing Swords! the sound  
Comes near: O, that a Battle would come o'er me!  
If I but grasp a Sword, or wrest a Dagger,  
I'll make a ruin with the first that falls.  Enter Haemon, with Guards. Haem. 
Seize him, and bear him to the Western-Tow'r.  
Pardon me, sacred Sir; I am informed  
That Creon has designs upon your life:  
Forgive me then, if, to preserve you from him,  
I order your Confinement.  Oed. 
Slaves, unhand me.  
I think thou hast a Sword: 'twas the wrong side.  
Yet, cruel Haemon, think not I will live;  
He that could tear his eyes out, sure can find  
Some desperate way to stifle this cursed breath:  
Or if I starve! but that's a lingering Fate;  
Or if I leave my brains upon the wall!  
The Airy Soul can easily o're-shoot  
Those bounds with which thou strive'st to pale her in:  
Yes, I will perish in despite of thee;  
And, by the rage that stirs me, if I meet thee  
In the other World, I'll curse thee for this usage.  [Exit. Haem. 
Tiresias, after him; and, with your Counsel,  
Advise him humbly; Charm, if possible,  
These feuds within: while I without extinguish,  
Or perish in th' Attempt, the furious Creon;  
That Brand which sets our City in a Flame.  Tir. 
Heaven prosper your intent, and give a period  
To all your Plagues: what old Tiresias can  
Shall straight be done. Lead, Manto the Tower.  [Ex. Tir. Manto. Haem. 
Follow me all, and help to part this Fray,  
Or fall together in the bloody broil.  [Trumpets again. [Ex. Enter Creon with Eurydice, Pyracmon and his party giving ground to Adrastus. Cre. 
Hold, hold your Arms, Adrastus' Prince of Argos,  
Hear, and behold; Eurydice is my Prisoner.  Adr. 
What wouldst thou, Hellhound?  Cre. 
See this brandished Dagger:  
Forgo th' advantage which thy Arms have won,  
Or, by the blood which trembles through the heart  
Of her whom more than life I know thou lov'st,  
I'll bury to the haft, in her fair breast,  
This Instrument of my Revenge.  Adr. 
Stay thee, damned wretch; hold, stop thy bloody hand.  Cre. 
Give order then, that on this instant, now,  
This moment, all thy Soldiers straight disband.  Adr. 
Away, my Friends, since Fate has so allotted;  
begone, and leave me to the Villain's mercy.  Eur. 
Ah, my Adrastus! call'em, call'em back!  
Stand there; come back! O, cruel barbarous Men!  
Could you then leave your Lord, your Prince, your King,  
After so bravely having fought his Cause,  
To perish by the hand of this base Villain?  
Why rather rush you not at once together  
All to his ruin? drag him through the Streets,  
Hang his contagious Quarters on the Gates;  
Nor let my death affright you.  Cre. 
die first thyself then.  Adr. 
O, I charge thee hold.  
Hence, from my presence all: he's not my Friend  
That disobeys: See, art thou now appeased?  
Or is there ought else yet remains to do  
That can atone thee? slake thy thirst of blood  
With mine: but save, O save that innocent wretch.  [Ex. Attendants. Cre. 
Forego thy Sword, and yield thyself my Prisoner.  Eur. 
Yet while there's any dawn of hope to save  
Thy precious life, my dear Adrastus,  
Whate'er thou dost, deliver not thy Sword;  
With that thou may'st get off, tho' odds oppose thee:  
For me, O, fear not; no, he dares not touch me;  
His horrid love will spare me. Keep thy Sword;  
Lest I be ravished after thou art slain.  Adr. 
Instruct me, Gods, what shall Adrastus do?  Cre. 
Do what thou wilt, when she is dead: My Soldiers  
With numbers will o're-pow'r thee. ist thy wish  
Eurydice should fall before thee?  Adr. 
Traitor, no:  
Better that thou and I, and all mankind  
Should be no more.  Creon. 
Then cast thy Sword away,  
And yield thee to my mercy, or I strike.  Adr. 
Hold thy raised Arm; give me a moment's pause.  
My Father, when he blessed me, gave me this;  
My Son, said he, let this be thy last refuge;  
If thou forego'st it, misery attends thee:  
Yet Love now charms it from me; which in all  
The hazards of my life I never lost.  
'Tis thine, my faithful Sword, my only trust;  
Tho' my heart tells me that the gift is Fatal.  Cre. 
Fatal! yes, foolish Love-sick Prince, it shall:  
Thy arrogance, thy scorn,  
My wounds remembrance,  
Turn all at once the Fatal point upon thee.  
Pyracmon, to the Palace, dispatch  
The King: hang Haemon up, for he is Loyal,  
And will oppose me: Come, Sir, are you ready?  Adr. 
Yes, Villain, for whatever thou canst dare.  Eur. 
Hold, Creon, or through me, through me you wound.  Adr. 
Off, Madam, or we perish both; behold  
I'm not unarmed, my ponyards in my hand:  
Therefore away.  Eur. 
I'll guard your life with mine.  Cre. 
die both then; there is now no time for dallying.  [Kills Eurydice. Eur. 
Ah, Prince, farewell; farewell, my dear Adrastus.  [Dies. Adr. 
Unheard of Monster! eldest-born of Hell!  
Down, to thy Primitive Flames.  [Stabs Creon. Cre. 
Help, Soldiers, help:  
Revenge me.  Adr. 
More; yet more: a thousand wounds!  
I'll stamp thee still, thus, to the gaping Furies.  [Adrastus falls, killed by the Soldiers. Enter Haemon, Guards, with Alcander and Pyracmon bound: the Assassins' are driven off. 
O Haemon, I am slain; nor need I name  
The inhuman Author of all Villainies;  
There he lies gasping.  Cre. 
If I must plunge in Flames,  
Burn first my Arm; base instrument, unfit  
To act the dictates of my daring mind:  
Burn, burn for ever, O weak Substitute  
Of that the God, Ambition.  [Dies. Adr. 
She's gone; O deadly Marksman, in the heart!  
Yet in the pangs of death she grasps my hand:  
Her lips too tremble, as if she would speak  
Her last farewell. O, Oedipus, thy fall  
Is great; and nobly now thou goest attended!  
They talk of Heroes, and Celestial Beauties,  
And wondrous pleasures in the other World;  
Let me but find her there, I ask no more.  [Dies. Enter a Captain to Haemon: with Tiresias and Manto. Cap. 
O, Sir, the Queen Jocasta, swift and wild,  
As a robbed Tygress bounding o'er the Woods,  
Has acted Murders that amaze mankind:  
In twisted Gold I saw her Daughters hang  
On the Bed Royal; and her little Sons  
Stabbed through the breasts upon the bloody Pillows.  Haem. 
Relentless heavens'! is then the Fate of Lajus  
Never to be Atoned? How sacred ought  
Kings lives be held, when but the death of one  
Demands an Empire's blood for Expiation?  
But see! the furious mad Jocasta's here.  Scene Draws, and discovers Jocasta held by her Women, and stabbed in many places of her bosom, her hair dishevelled; her Children slain upon the Bed. 
Was ever yet a sight of so much horror,  
And pity, brought to view!  Joc. 
Ah, cruel Women!  
Will you not let me take my last farewell  
Of those dear Babes? O let me run and seal  
My melting Soul upon their bubbling wounds!  
I'll Print upon their Coral mouths such Kisses,  
As shall recall their wandering Spirits home.  
Let me go, let me go, or I will tear you piecemeal.  
Help, Haemon, help:  
Help Oedipus; help, Gods; Jocasta Dies.  Enter Oedipus above. Oed. 
I've found a Window, and I thank the Gods  
'Tis quite unbarred: sure, by the distant noise,  
The height will fit my Fatal purpose well.  Joc. 
What hoa, my Oedipus! see, where he stands!  
His groping Ghost is lodged upon a Tower,  
Nor can it find the Road: Mount, mount, my soul;  
I'll wrap thy shivering Spirit in Lambent Flames! and so we'll sail.  
But see! we're landed on the happy Coast;  
And all the Golden Strands are covered o'er  
With glorious Gods, that come to try our Cause:  
Jove, Jove, whose Majesty now sinks me down,  
He who himself burns in unlawful fires,  
Shall judge, and shall acquit us, O, 'tis done;  
'Tis fixed by Fate, upon Record Divine:  
And Oedipus shall now be ever mine.  [Dies. Oed. 
Speak, Haemon; what has Fate been doing there?  
What dreadful deed has mad Jocasta done?  Haem. 
The Queen herself, and all your wretched Offspring,  
Are by her Fury slain.  Oed. 
By all my woes,  
She has outdone me, in Revenge and Murder;  
And I should envy her the sad applause:  
But, Oh! my Children! Oh, what have they done?  
This was not like the mercy of the heavens',  
To set her madness on such Cruelty:  
This stirs me more than all my sufferings,  
And with my last breath I must call you Tyrants.  Haem. 
What mean you, Sir.  Oed. 
Jocasta! lo, I come.  
O Lajus, Labdacus, and all you Spirits  
Of the Cadmean Race, prepare to meet me,  
All weeping ranged along the gloomy Shore:  
Extend your Arms t' embrace me; for I come;  
May all the Gods too from their Battlements  
Behold, and wonder at a Mortals daring;  
And, when I knock the Goal of dreadful death,  
Shout and applaud me with a clap of Thunder:  
Once more, thus winged by horrid Fate, I come  
Swift as a falling Meteor; lo, I fly,  
And thus go downwards, to the darker Sky.  [Thunder. He flings himself from the Window: The Thebans gather about his Body. Haem. 
O Prophet, Oedipus is now no more!  
O cursed Effect of the most deep despair!  Tir. 
Cease your Complaints, and bear his body hence;  
The dreadful sight will daunt the drooping Thebans,  
Whom Heaven decrees to raise with Peace and Glory:  
Yet, by these terrible Examples warned,  
The sacred Fury thus Alarms the World.  
Let none, tho' ne'er so Virtuous, great and High,  
Be judged entirely blessed before they die.    

EPILOGUE.  
WHAT Sophocles could undertake alone,  
Our Poets found a Work for more than one;  
And therefore Two lay tugging at the piece,  
With all their force, to draw the ponderous Mass from Greece.  
A weight that bent even Seneca's strong Muse,  
And which Corneille's Shoulders did refuse.  
So hard it is th' Athenian Harp to string!  
So much two Consuls yield to one just King.  
Terror and pity this whole Poem sway;  
The mightiest Machine's that can mount a Play;  
How heavy will those Vulgar Souls be found,  
Whom two such Engines cannot move from ground?  
When Greece and Rome have smiled upon this Birth,  
You can but Damn for one poor spot of Earth;  
And when your Children find your judgement such,  
They'll scorn their Sires, and wish themselves born Dutch;  
Each haughty Poet will infer with ease,  
How much his Wit must underwrite to please.  
As some strong Churl would brandishing advance  
The monumental Sword that conquered France;  
So you, by judging this, your judgements teach  
Thus far you like, that is, thus far you reach.  
Since then the Vote of full two Thousand years  
Has Crowned this Plot, and all the Dead are theirs.  
Think it a Debt you pay, not Alms you give,  
And in your own defence, let this Play live.  
Think 'em not vain, when Sophocles is shown,  
To praise his worth, they humbly doubt their own.  
Yet as weak States each others power assure,  
Weak Poets by Conjunction are secure.  
Their Treat is what your Palates relish most,  
Charm! Song! and Show! a Murder and a Ghost!  
We know not what you can desire or hope,  
To please you more, but burning of a Pope.  
FINIS.