ed
The depth of fate; and if our oracles
May speak, O do not too severely deal!
But let thy wretched Thebes at least complain.
If thou art guilty, heaven will make it known;
If innocent, then let Tiresias die.

_OEdip._ I take thee at thy word.--Run, haste, and save Alcander:
I swear, the prophet, or the king shall die.
Be witness, all you Thebans, of my oath;
And Phorbas be the umpire.

_Tir._ I submit. [_Trumpet sounds._

_OEdip._ What mean those trumpets?

_Enter_ HAEMON _with_ ALCANDER, _&c._

_Haem._ From your native country,
Great sir, the famed AEgeon is arrived,
That renowned favourite of the king your father:
He comes as an ambassador from Corinth,
And sues for audience.

_OEdip._ Haste, Haemon, fly, and tell him that I burn
To embrace him.

_Haem._ The queen, my lord, at present holds him
In private conference; but behold her here.

_Enter_ JOCASTA, EURYDICE, _&c._

_Joc._ Hail, happy OEdipus, happiest of kings!
Henceforth be blest, blest as thou canst desire;
Sleep without fears the blackest nights away;
Let furies haunt thy palace, thou shalt sleep
Secure, thy slumbers shall be soft and gentle
As infants' dreams.

_OEdip._ What does the soul of all my joys intend?
And whither would this rapture?

_Joc._ O, I could rave,
Pull down those lying fanes, and burn that vault,
From whence resounded those false oracles,
That robbed my love of rest: If we must pray,
Rear in the streets bright altars to the Gods,
Let virgins' hands adorn the sacrifice;
And not a grey-beard forging priest come near,
To pry into the bowels of the victim,
And with his dotage mad the gaping world.
But see, the oracle that I will trust,
True as the Gods, and affable as men.

_Enter_ AEGEON. _Kneels._

_OEdip._ O, to my arms, welcome, my dear AEgeon;
Ten thousand welcomes! O, my foster-father,
Welcome as mercy to a man condemned!
Welcome to me, as, to a sinking mariner,
The lucky plank that bears him to the shore!
But speak, O tell me what so mighty joy
Is this thou bring'st, which so transports Jocasta?

_Joc._ Peace, peace, AEgeon, let Jocasta tell him!--
O that I could for ever charm, as now,
My dearest OEdipus! Thy royal father,
Polybus, king of Corinth, is no more.

_OEdip._ Ha! can it be? AEgeon, answer me;
And speak in short, what my Jocasta's transport
May over-do.

_AEge._ Since in few words, my royal lord, you ask
To know the truth,--king Polybus is dead.