PHILOCTETES.
If thou hadst naught to oppose but king to king,
I would have fought for Œdipus; but know
That Priests are here more formidable foes,
Because respected, feared and honored more.
Supported by his oracles, the priest
Shall often make his sovereign crouch beneath him;
Whilst his weak people, dragged in holy chains,
Embrace the idol, tread on sacred laws
With pious zeal, and think they honor heaven
When they betray their master and their king,
But above all, when interest, fruitful parent
Of riot and licentiousness, increase
Their impious rage, and back their insolence.
ŒDIPUS.
Alas! thy virtue doubles all my woes,
For great as my misfortunes is thy soul;
Beneath the weight of care that hangs upon me;
Who strives to comfort can but more oppress.
What voice is this which from my inmost soul
Pours forth complaints? What crime have I committed?
Say, vengeful gods, is Œdipus so guilty?
JOCASTE.
Talk not of guilt, my lord, your dying people
Demand a victim; we must save our country;
Delay it not: I was the wife of Laius,
And I alone should perish: let me seek
The wandering spirit of my murdered lord
On the infernal shore, and calm his rage:
Yes, I will go: may the kind gods accept
My life and ask no other sacrifice!
May thy Jocaste save her Œdipus!
