Œdip. 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.
Œdip. 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.
Œdip. 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 Hæmon, Alcander, and Pyracmon.
Hæm. 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!
151 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[6],
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.[Thunder, &c.
Hæm. Ha! Pyracmon, look;
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.