Œdip. Is murder then no more? add parricide,
And incest; bear not these a frightful sound?
Joc. Alas!
Œdip. How poor a pity is alas,
For two such crimes!—was Laius us'd to lie?
Joc. Oh no: The most sincere, plain, honest man;
One who abhorred a lie.
Œdip. Then he has got that quality in hell.
He charges me—but why accuse I him?
I did not hear him speak it: They accuse me,—
The priest, Adrastus and Eurydice,—
Of murdering Laius!—Tell me, while I think on't,
Has old Tiresias practised long this trade?
Joc. What trade?
Œdip. Why, this foretelling trade.
Joc. For many years.
Œdip. Has he before this day accused me?
Joc. Never.