Against thy son; said, I should slay my father,O gods! and be the husband of my mother.
jocaste.
Where am I? what malicious dæmon joined
Our hands, to make us thus supremely wretched?
œdipus.
Reserve thy tears for something still more dreadful;
Now list and tremble: fearful of myself,
Lest I should e’er fulfil the dire prediction,
Or oppose heaven, I left my native land,
Broke from the arms of a distracted mother,
Wandered from place to place, disguised my birth,
My family, and name, by one kind friend
Attended; yet, in my disastrous journey,
The God who guided my sad footsteps oft
Strengthened my arm, and crowned me with success:
But happier had it been for Œdipus,
If he had fallen with glory in the field,
And by his death prevented all his woes:
I was reserved to be a parricide:
The hand of heaven, so long suspended o’er me,
Hath from my eyes at length removed the veil
Of Ignorance, and now I see it all:
I do remember, in the fields of Phocis
(Nor know I how I could so long forget
The great event) that in a narrow way
I met two warriors in a splendid car:
The path was strait, and we disputed it:
An idle contest for us both; but I
Was young and haughty, from my earliest years
Bred up to pride that flowed in with my blood;
An unknown stranger in a foreign land,
I thought myself upon my father’s throne,
And whomso’er I chanced to meet, esteemed
As my own vassals, born but to obey me:
I rushed upon them, and with furious arm
Their rapid coursers stopped in full career;
Hurled from their chariot the intrepid pair.
Forward advanced in rage, and both attacked me:
The combat was not long, for victory soon
Declared for Œdipus. Immortal powers!
Whether from hatred or from love I know not,
But surely on that day ye fought for me.
I saw them both expiring at my feet,
And one of them, I do remember well,
Who seemed in age well-stricken, as he lay
Gasping on the earth, looked earnestly upon me,
Held out his arms, and would have spoke: I saw
The tears flow plenteous from his half-closed eyes:
Methought when I did wound him my shocked soul,
All conqueror as I was—you shake, Jocaste.
jocaste.
My lord, see Phorbas comes; this way they lead him.
œdipus.
’Tis well: my doubts will then be satisfied.
SCENE II.
œdipus, jocaste, phorbas, Attendants.
œdipus.
Come hither, thou unfortunate old man;
The sight of him alarms my conscious soul;
Confused remembrance tortures me; I dread
To look on, or to question him.
phorbas.
O queen,
Is this the day appointed for my death;
Hast thou decreed it? Never but to me
Wert thou unjust.
jocaste.
Fear not, but hear the king,
And answer him.
phorbas.
The king?
jocaste.
Thou standest before him.
phorbas.
Ye gods! is this the successor of Laius?
œdipus.
Waste not the time thus idly, but inform me,
Thou wert the only witness of his death,
And wounded, so ’tis said, in his defence.
phorbas.
He’s dead, and let his ashes rest in peace;
Embitter not my fate, nor thus insult
A faithful subject wounded by thy hand.
œdipus.
I wound thee? I?
phorbas.
Now satiate thy revenge,
And put an end to this unhappy life;
The poor remains of blood which then escaped thee
Now thou mayest shed; and since thou must remember
The fatal place where Laius—
œdipus.
Spare the rest:
It is enough: I see
