Edip. [Embracing.] No more captive,

But brother of the war. "Tis much more pleasant, And safer, trust me, thus to meet thy love,

Than when hard gauntlets clenched our warlike hands, And kept them from soft use.

Adr. My conqueror!

Edip. My friend! that other name keeps enmity alive.

But longer to detain thee were a crime;
To love, and to Eurydice, go free.

Such welcome, as a ruined town can give,
Expect from me; the rest let her supply.

Adr. I go without a blush, though conquered twice, By you, and by my princess. [Exit ADRASTUS. Cre. [Aside.] Then I am conquered thrice; by Edipus,

And her, and even by him, the slave of both.
Gods, I'm beholden to you, for making me your image;
Would I could make you mine! [Exit CREON.

Enter the People with branches in their hands, holding them up, and kneeling: Two Priests before them. Edip. Alas, my people!

What means this speechless sorrow, downcast eyes,
And lifted hands ? If there be one among you,
Whom grief has left a tongue, speak for the rest.
1 Pr. O father of thy country!

To thee these knees are bent, these eyes are lifted,
As to a visible divinity;

A prince, on whom heaven safely might repose
The business of mankind; for Providence
Might on thy careful bosom sleep secure,

And leave her task to thee.

But where's the glory of thy former acts?

Even that's destroyed, when none shall live to speak it. Millions of subjects shalt thou have; but mute.

A people of the dead; a crowded desert;
A midnight silence at the noon of day.

Edip. O were our gods as ready with their pity, As I with mine, this presence should be thronged With all I left alive; and

my sad

eyes

Not search in vain for friends, whose promised sight Flattered my toils of war.

1 Pr. Twice our deliverer!

Edip. Nor are now your vows
Addrest to one who sleeps.

When this unwelcome news first reached my ears,
Dymas was sent to Delphos, to enquire
The cause and cure of this contagious ill,
And is this day returned; but, since his message
Concerns the public, I refused to hear it
But in this general presence: Let him speak.
Dym. A dreadful answer from the hallowed urn,
And sacred tripos, did the priestess give,

In these mysterious words.

The Oracle. Shed in a cursed hour, by cursed hand, Blood-royal unrevenged has cursed the land. When Laius' death is expiated well,

Your plague shall cease.

The rest let Laius tell.

Edip. Dreadful indeed! Blood, and a king's
blood too!

And such a king's, and by his subjects shed!
(Else why this curse on Thebes?) No wonder then
If monsters, wars, and plagues, revenge such crimes!
If heaven be just, its whole artillery,

All must be emptied on us: Not one bolt

Shall err from Thebes; but more be called for, more; New-moulded thunder of a larger size,

Driven by whole Jove. What, touch anointed power! Then, Gods, beware; Jove would himself be next, Could you but reach him too.

2 Pr. We mourn the sad remembrance. Edip. Well you may;

Worse than a plague infects you: You're devoted
To mother earth, and to the infernal powers;
Hell has a right in you. I thank you, gods,
That I'm no Theban born: How my blood curdles!
As if this curse touched me, and touched me nearer
Than all this presence!-Yes, 'tis a king's blood,
And I, a king, am tied in deeper bonds

To expiate this blood. But where, from whom,
Or how must I atone it? Tell me, Thebans,
How Laius fell; for a confused report
Passed through my ears, when first I took the crown;
But full of hurry, like a morning dream,

It vanished in the business of the day.*

1 Pr. He went in private forth, but thinly followed, And ne'er returned to Thebes.

Edip. Nor any from him? came there no attendant? None to bring news?

2 Pr. But one; and he so wounded,

He scarce drew breath to speak some few faint words, Edip. What were they? something may be learnt from thence.

1 Pr. He said, a band of robbers watched their

passage,

Who took advantage of a narrow way,

To murder Laius and the rest; himself
Left too for dead.

Edip. Made you no more enquiry,
But took this bare relation?

2 Pr. 'Twas neglected;

For then the monster Sphinx began to rage,
And present cares soon buried the remote:
So was it hushed, and never since revived.

* The carelessness of Edipus about the fate of his predecessor is very unnatural; but to such expedients dramatists are often reduced, to communicate to their audience what must have been. known to the persons of the drama.

7

But this blest meeting has o'er-paid them all.

Good fortune, that comes seldom, comes more wel

come.

All I can wish for now, is your consent

To make my brother happy.

Edip. How, Jocasta?

Joc. By marriage with his niece, Eurydice. Edip. Uncle and niece! they are too near, my love;

"Tis too like incest; 'tis offence to kind:

Had I not promised, were there no Adrastus,
No choice but Creon left her of mankind,
They should not marry: Speak no more of it;
The thought disturbs me.

Joc. Heaven can never bless

A vow so broken, which I made to Creon;
Remember, he is my brother.

Edip. That is the bar;

And she thy daughter: Nature would abhor
To be forced back again upon herself,

And, like a whirlpool, swallow her own streams.
Joc. Be not displeased: I'll move the suit no more.
Edip. No, do not; for, I know not why, it
shakes me,

When I but think on incest. Move we forward,
To thank the gods for my success, and pray
To wash the guilt of royal blood away. [Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I.-An open Gallery. A Royal Bed-chamber being supposed behind.

The Time, Night. Thunder, &c.

Enter HEMON, ALCANDER, and PYRACMON.

Ham. Sure 'tis the end of all things! fate has torn The lock of time off, and his head is now

The ghastly ball of round eternity!

Call you these peals of thunder, but the yawn
Of bellowing clouds? By Jove, they seem to me
The world's last groans; and those vast sheets of flame
Are its last blaze. The tapers of the gods,

The sun and moon, run down like waxen-globes;
The shooting stars end all in purple jellies*,
And chaos is at hand.

Pyr. 'Tis midnight, yet there's not a Theban sleeps, But such as ne'er must wake. All crowd about The palace, and implore, as from a god,

Help of the king; who, from the battlement,
By the red lightning's glare descried afar,
Atones the angry powers.

Ham. Ha! Pyracmon, look;

[Thunder, &e.

Behold, Alcander, from yon' west of heaven,
The perfect figures of a man and woman;
A sceptre, bright with gems, in each right hand,
Their flowing robes of dazzling purple made :
Distinctly yonder in that point they stand,
Just west; a bloody red stains all the place;
And see, their faces are quite hid in clouds.

Pyr. Clusters of golden stars hang o'er their heads, And seem so crowded, that they burst upon them : All dart at once their baleful influence,

In leaking fire.

Alc. Long-bearded comets stick,

Like flaming porcupines, to their left sides,

As they would shoot their quills into their hearts. Ham. But see! the king, and queen, and all the court!

* It is a common idea, that falling stars, as they are called, are converted into a sort of jelly. "Among the rest, I had often the opportunity to see the seeming shooting of the stars from place to place, and sometimes they appeared as if falling to the ground, where I once or twice found a white jelly-like matter among the grass, which I imagined to be distilled from them; and hence foolishly conjectured, that the stars themselves must certainly consist of a like substance."