as soon as made:Then Œdipus, my sovereign, sought and gained me,
Spite of myself. I took the diadem,
Begirt with sorrows. To forget the past
Became my duty then; and I obeyed.
Thou knowest I stifled every tender thought
Of my first love, disguised an aching heart,
Drank up my tears, and even from myself
Strove to conceal my griefs.
ægina.
How could you venture
The dangerous trial of a second marriage?
jocaste.
Alas!
ægina.
Will you forgive me? shall I speak?
jocaste.
Thou mayest.
ægina.
The king, the conqueror subdued thee:
You gave your hand as a reward to him
Who saved your country.
jocaste.
Gracious gods!
ægina.
Was he
Happier than Laius? Was your Philoctetes
Forgotten then, or did they share your heart?
jocaste.
Thebes, by a cruel monster then laid waste,
Had promised its deliverer my hand;
The conqueror of the sphinx was worthy of me.
ægina.
You loved him then?
jocaste.
I felt some tenderness
For Œdipus; but O! ’twas far from love:
’Twas not, Ægina, that tumultuous passion,
The impetuous offspring of my ravished senses,
Not the fierce flame that burned for Philoctetes;
Who, by his fatal charms, subdued my reason,
And poured love’s sweetest poison o’er my heart:
Friendship sincere was all I could bestow
On Œdipus, for much I prized his virtue;
And pleased, beheld him mount the throne of Thebes
Which he had saved; but, whilst I followed him,
Even at the altar, my affrighted soul,
Wherefore I knew not, was most strangely moved,
And I retired with horror to his arms.
To this a dreadful omen did succeed:
Methought, Ægina, in the dead of night,
I saw the gulf of hell yawn wide before me;
When lo! the spirit of my murdered lord,
Bloody and pale, with threatening aspect stood,
And pointed to my son; that son, Ægina,
Which I to Laius bore, and to the gods
Offered, a cruel pious sacrifice.
They beckoned me to follow them, and seemed
To drag me with them to the horrid gloom
Of Tartarus: my troubled soul long kept
The sad idea, and must keep it ever.
Now Philoctetes doubles every woe.
ægina.
I heard a noise that way, and, see he comes.
jocaste.
’Tis he; I tremble: but I will avoid him.
SCENE III.
jocaste, philoctetes.
philoctetes.
Do not avoid me, do not fly, Jocaste.
From Philoctetes; turn, and look upon me:
O speak to me, nor fear my jealous tears
Should interrupt the new-born happiness
Of thy late nuptials: think not that I came
To cast reproaches on thee, or with sighs
To win thy lost affection; vulgar arts,
Unworthy of us both! the heart, Jocaste,
That burned for thee, and if I may recall
Thy plighted faith, was once not hateful to thee,
Has learned, from thy example, not to feel
Weakness like that.
jocaste.
I must approve thy conduct,
And ’tis but fit I vindicate my own:
I loved thee, Philoctetes; but my fate
Tore me from thee, and gave me to another.
Thou knowest what woes the horrid sphinx, by heaven
Appointed to afflict us, brought on Thebes:
Too well thou knowest that Œdipus—
philoctetes.
Is thine;
I know it, and is worthy of the blessing:
Young as he was, his wisdom saved thy country;
His virtues, his fair deeds, and what still more
Exalted him, Jocaste’s love, have ranked
Thy Œdipus among the first of men.
