His eyes not carrying to that equal beam,
That poises all above.

_Eur._ Then we must die!

_Tir._ The danger's imminent this day.

_Adr._ Why then there's one day less for human ills;
And who would moan himself, for suffering that,
Which in a day must pass? something, or nothing;--
I shall be what I was again, before
I was Adrastus.--
Penurious heaven, can'st thou not add a night
To our one day? give me a night with her,
And I'll give all the rest.

_Tir._ She broke her vow,
First made to Creon: But the time calls on;
And Laius' death must now be made more plain.
How loth I am to have recourse to rites
So full of horror, that I once rejoice
I want the use of sight!--

_1 Pr._ The ceremonies stay.

_Tir._ _Chuse the darkest part o'the grove:
Such as ghosts at noon-day love.
Dig a trench, and dig it nigh_
_Where the bones of Laius lie;
Altars, raised of turf or stone,
Will the infernal powers have none.
Answer me, if this be done?_

_All Pr._ _'Tis done._

_Tir._ _Is the sacrifice made fit?
Draw her backward to the pit:
Draw the barren heifer back;
Barren let her be, and black.
Cut the curled hair, that grows
Full betwixt her horns and brows:
And turn your faces from the sun:
Answer me, if this be done?_

_All Pr._ _'Tis done._

_Tir._ _Pour in blood, and blood like wine,
To mother Earth and Proserpine:
Mingle milk into the stream;
Feast the ghosts that love the steam;
Snatch a brand from funeral pile;
Toss it in to make them boil:
And turn your faces from the sun:
Answer me, if all be done?_

_All Pr._ _All is done._ [_Peal of Thunder; and flashes of Lightning;
then groaning below the stage._

_Man._ O, what laments are those?

_Tir._ The groans of ghosts, that cleave the heart with pain,
And heave it up: they pant and stick half-way.
[_The Stage wholly darkened._

_Man._ And now a sudden darkness covers all,
True genuine night, night added to the groves;
The fogs are blown full in the face of heaven.

_Tir._ Am I but half obeyed? infernal gods,
Must you have musick too? then tune your voices,
And let them have such sounds as hell ne'er heard,
Since Orpheus bribed the shades.

_Musick First. Then Song._

_1. Hear, ye sullen powers below:
Hear, ye taskers of the dead.
2. You that boiling cauldrons blow,
You that scum the molten lead.
3. You that pinch with red-hot tongs;
1. You that drive the trem