Ye gods! my eyes are opened.
jocaste.
Can it be?
œdipus.
And art thou he whom my unhappy rage
Attacked at Daulis in the narrow path?
O yes it is, must be so: in vain myself
Would I deceive, all speaks too plain against me,
I know thee but too well.
phorbas.
I saw him fall,
My royal master fall beneath thy hand:
Thou didst the crime, and I have suffered for it:
A prison was my fate, and thine a throne.
œdipus.
Away: I soon shall do thee ample justice,
Thee and myself; leave then to me the care
Of my own punishment: begone, and save me
At least the painful sight of innocence,
Which I have made unhappy.
SCENE III.
œdipus, jocaste.
œdipus.
O Jocaste!
For cruel fate forbids me ever more
To call thee by the tender name of wife;
Thou seest my crimes; no longer bound to love;
Strike now, and free thyself from the dread thought
Of being mine.
jocaste.
Alas!
œdipus.
Take, take this sword,
The instrument of my unhappy rage;
Receive, and use it for a noble purpose,
And plunge it in my breast.
jocaste.
What wouldst thou do!
O stop thy furious grief, be calm, and live.
œdipus.
Canst thou have pity on a wretch like me?
No, I must die.
jocaste.
Thou must not: hear Jocaste,
O hear her prayers!
œdipus.
I will not, must not hear thee.
I slew thy husband.
jocaste.
And thou gavest me one.
œdipus.
I did, but ’twas by guilt.
jocaste.
Involuntary.
œdipus.
No matter, still ’twas guilt.
jocaste.
O height of woe!
œdipus.
O fatal nuptials! once such envied bliss!
jocaste.
Such be it still, for still thou art my husband.
œdipus.
O no! I am not; this destructive hand
Hath broke the sacred tie, and deep involved
Thy kingdom in my ruin. O! avoid me,
Fear the vindictive God who still pursues
The wretched Œdipus; I fear myself,
My timid virtue serves but to confound me;
Perhaps my fate may reach even thee, Jocaste;
Pity thyself, pity the hapless victims
That perish daily for my guilt; O strike,
And save thy Œdipus from future crimes.
jocaste.
Do not accuse, do not condemn thyself;
Thou art unhappy, but thou art not guilty:
Thou didst not know whose blood thy hand had shed
In Daulis’ fatal conflict; when remembrance
Calls forth the melancholy deed, I must
Weep for myself, but should not punish thee.
Live therefore—
œdipus.
No; it is impossible:
Farewell, Jocaste! whither must I go,
O whither must I drag this hateful being?
What clime accursed, or what disastrous shore
Shall hide my crimes, and bury my despair?
Still must I wander on from clime to clime,
Or rise by murder to another throne?
Shall I to Corinth bend my way, where fate
Hath heavier crimes in store for Œdipus?
O Corinth! ne’er on thy detested borders—
SCENE IV.
œdipus, jocaste, dimas.
dimas.
My lord, this moment is arrived a stranger,
He says, from Corinth, and desires admittance.
