Enter Jocasta, Eurydice, &c.
Joc. Hail, happy Œdipus, 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.
Œdip. 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,
193 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 Ægeon. Kneels.
Œdip. O, to my arms, welcome, my dear Ægeon;
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, Ægeon, let Jocasta tell him!—
O that I could for ever charm, as now,
My dearest Œdipus! Thy royal father,
Polybus, king of Corinth, is no more.
Œdip. Ha! can it be? Ægeon, answer me;
And speak in short, what my Jocasta's transport
May over-do.
Æge. Since in few words, my royal lord, you ask
To know the truth,—king Polybus is dead.
Œdip. O all you powers, is't possible? what, dead!
But that the tempest of my joy may rise
By just degrees, and hit at last the stars,
Say, how, how died he? ha! by sword, by fire,
Or water? by assassinates, or poison? speak:
Or did he languish under some disease?