Of me his death: sore pressed on every side,
I knew not how to pardon or condemn,
But to a neighboring castle I conveyed him,
And hid the guiltless victim from their rage.
There four long winters hath the poor old man,
To future favorites a sad example,
Without a murmur or complaint remained,
And hopes from innocence alone release.
ŒDIPUS.
It is enough, Jocaste. Fly, begone, [To his servants.
Open the prison, bring him hither straight,
We will examine him before you all;
Laius and Thebes shall be avenged together:
Yes, we will hear and judge, will sound the depth
Of this strange mystery. Ye gods of Thebes,
Who hear our prayers, and know the murderer, now
Reveal, and punish; and thou, Sun, withhold
From his dark eyes thy blessed light! proscribed,
Abandoned, let him wander o'er the earth
A wretched miscreant, by his sons abhorred,
And to his mother horrible! deprived
Of burial, let his body be the prey
Of hungry vultures!
HIGH PRIEST.
In these execrations
We all unite.
ŒDIPUS.
Gods! let the guilty suffer,
And they alone! or if the high decrees
Of your eternal justice leave to me
His punishment, at least indulgent grant,
Where you command, the power to obey;
