JO. Let not thy queen be left in ignoran...

JO. Let not thy queen be left in ignorance

What cause thou hadst to lift thy wrath so high.

OED. I'll tell thee, lady, for I honour thee

More than these citizens. 'Twas Creon there,

And his inveterate treason against me.

JO. Accuse him, so you make the quarrel plain.

OED. He saith I am the murderer of the King.

JO. Speaks he from hearsay, or as one who knows?

OED. He keeps his own lips free: but hath suborned

A rascal soothsayer to this villany.

JO. Hearken to me, and set your heart at rest

On that you speak of, while I make you learn

No mortal thing is touched by soothsaying.

Of that I'll give thee warrant brief and plain.

Word came to Laius once, I will not say

From Phoebus' self, but from his ministers,

The King should be destroyed by his own son,

If son were born to him from me. What followed?

Laius was slain, by robbers from abroad,

Saith Rumour, in a cross-way! But the child

Lived not three days, ere by my husband's hand

His feet were locked, and he was cast and left

By messengers on the waste mountain wold.

So Phoebus neither brought upon the boy

His father's murder, nor on Laius

The thing he greatly feared, death by his son.

Such issue came of prophesying words.

Therefore regard them not. God can himself

With ease bring forth what for his ends he needs.

OED. What strange emotions overcloud my soul,

Stirred to her depths on hearing this thy tale!

JO. What sudden change is this? What cares oppress thee?

OED. Methought I heard thee say, King Laius

Was at a cross-road overpowered and slain?

JO. So ran the talk that yet is current here.

OED. Where was the scene of this unhappy blow?

JO. Phocis the land is named. The parted ways

Meet in one point from Dauha and from Delphi.

OED. And since the event how much of time hath flown?

JO. 'Twas just ere you appeared with prospering speed

And took the kingdom, that the tidings came.

OED. What are thy purposes against me, Zeus?

JO. Why broods thy mind upon such thoughts, my king?

OED. Nay, ask me not! But tell me first what height

Had Laius, and what grace of manly prime?

JO. Tall, with dark locks just sprinkled o'er with grey:

In shape and bearing much resembling thee.

OED. O heavy fate! How all unknowingly

I laid that dreadful curse on my own head!

JO. How?

I tremble as I gaze on thee, my king!

OED. The fear appals me that the seer can see.

Tell one thing more, to make it doubly clear!

JO. I am lothe to speak, but, when you ask, I will.

OED. Had he scant following, or, as princes use,

Full numbers of a well-appointed train?

JO. There were but five in all: a herald one;

And Laius travelled in the only car.

OED. Woe! woe! 'Tis clear as daylight. Who was he

That brought you this dire message, O my queen?

JO. A home-slave, who alone returned alive.

OED. And is he now at hand within the house?

JO. No, truly. When he came from yonder scene

And found thee king in room of Laius murdered,

He touched my hand, and made his instant prayer

That I would send him to o'erlook the flocks

And rural pastures, so to live as far

As might be from the very thought of Thebes.

I granted his desire. No servant ever

More richly merited such boon than he.

OED. Can he be brought again immediately?

JO. Indeed he can. But why desire it so?

OED. Words have by me been uttered, O my queen,

That give me too much cause to wish him here.

JO. Then come he shall. But I may surely claim

To hear what in thy state goes heavily.

OED. Thou shalt not lose thy rights in such an hour,

When I am harrowed thus with doubt and fear.

To whom more worthy should I tell my grief?

---My father was Corinthian Polybus,

My mother, Dorian Meropè.---I lived

A prince among that people, till a chance

Encountered me, worth wonder, but, though strange,

Not worth the anxious thought it waked in me.

For at a feasting once over the wine

One deep in liquor called aloud to me,

'Hail, thou false foundling of a foster-sire!'

That day with pain I held my passion down;

But early on the morrow I came near

And questioned both my parents, who were fierce

In anger at the man who broached this word.

For their part I was satisfied, but still

It galled me, for the rumour would not die.

Eluding then my parents I made way

To Delphi, where, as touching my desire,

Phoebus denied me; but brake forth instead

With other oracles of misery

And horrible misfortune, how that I

Must know my mother's shame, and cause to appear

A birth intolerable in human view,

And do to death the author of my life.

I fled forth at the word, conjecturing now

Corinthia's region by the stars of heaven,

And wandered, where I never might behold

Those dreadful prophecies fulfilled on me.

So travelling on, I came even to the place

Where, as thou tell'st, the King of Thebè fell.

And, O my wife, I will hide nought from thee.

When I drew near the cross-road of your tale,

A herald, and a man upon a car,

Like your description, there encountered me.

And he who led the car, and he himself

The greybeard, sought to thrust me from the path.

Then in mine angry mood I sharply struck

The driver-man who turned me from the way;

Which when the elder saw, he watched for me

As I passed by, and from the chariot-seat

Smote full upon my head with the fork'd goad;

But got more than he gave; for, by a blow

From this right hand, smit with my staff, he fell

Instantly rolled out of the car supine.

I slew them every one. Now if that stranger

Had aught in common with king Laius,

What wretch on earth was e'er so lost as I?

Whom have the Heavens so followed with their hate?

No house of Theban or of foreigner

Must any more receive me, none henceforth

Must speak to me, but drive me from the door!

I, I have laid this curse on mine own head!

Yea, and this arm that slew him now enfolds

His queen. O cruel stain! Am I not vile?

Polluted utterly! Yes, I must flee,

And, lost to Thebè, nevermore behold

My home, nor tread my country, lest I meet

In marriage mine own mother, and bring low

His head that gave me life and reared my youth,

My father, Polybus. Ah! right were he

Who should declare some god of cruel mood

Had sent this trouble upon my soul! Ye Powers,

Worshipped in holiness, ne'er may I see

That day, but perish from the sight of men,

Ere sins like these be branded on my name!

CH. Thy fear is ours, O king: yet lose not hope,

Till thou hast heard the witness of the deed.

OED. Ay, that is all I still have left of hope,

To bide the coming of the shepherd man.

JO. What eager thought attends his presence here?

OED. I'll tell thee. Should his speech accord with thine,

My life stands clear from this calamity.

JO. What word of mine agreed not with the scene?

OED. You said he spake of robbers in a band

As having slain him. Now if he shall still

Persist in the same number, I am free.

One man and many cannot be the same.

But should he tell of one lone traveller,

Then, unavoidably, this falls on me.

JO. So 'twas given out by him, be sure of that.

He cannot take it back. Not I alone

But all the people heard him speak it so.

And should he swerve in aught from his first tale,

He ne'er can show the murder of the king

Rightly accordant with the oracle.

For Phoebus said expressly he should fall

Through him whom I brought forth. But that poor babe

Ne'er slew his sire, but perished long before.

Wherefore henceforth I will pursue my way

Regardless of all words of prophecy.

OED. Wisely resolved. But still send one to bring

The labourer swain, and be not slack in this.

JO. I will, and promptly. Go we now within!

My whole desire is but to work thy will.