brought forward, is recognized by both the chorus and by the Corinthian. The king makes inquiry. The messenger aids the old shepherd’s memory:
“You gave me a child to bring up as my own—that babe and this man is the same.”
“Damnation! keep your mouth shut!”
Œdipus is obliged to threaten to resort to rigorous measures before the old man consents to tell the whole story:
“I gave it.”
“Whose was it? Your own?”
“Beseech your Highness, no, another’s,—for Heaven’s sake, ask no more!”
“You ’re lost, if I have to ask again.”
“I got it from Laius’ house.”
“A slave's?”
“The next is the dread word for me to say.”
“And for me to hear,—but it must be heard.”
“Well, yes, it was said to be his. She could tell you best.”
“Did she give it to you?”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“To kill.”
“Her own child?”
“Because she was afraid of the prophecies.”
“What prophecies?”
“That he would kill his father.”
“Oh! Oh! All true! O Light, never will I look on thee again! Born accurst, living sinfully with those I should not, and murderer of my sire!”
Œdipus is resolved to know the truth at any cost; heroically he sets at naught his own anguish of heart. Jocasta realizes that she can live no longer. She alone discerns the whole truth; she alone realizes that the awful dénouement is coming; and for dramatic skill and power hardly any drama
