Œdip. Whence? and from whom? what city? of what house?
Phor. O, royal sir, I bow me to the ground;
Would I could sink beneath it! by the gods,
I do conjure you to inquire no more.
Œdip. Furies and hell! Hæmon, bring forth the rack,
Fetch hither cords, and knives, and sulphurous flames:
He shall be bound and gashed, his skin flead off,
And burnt alive.
Phor. O spare my age.
Œdip. Rise then, and speak.
Phor. Dread sir, I will.
Œdip. Who gave that infant to thee?
Phor. One of king Laius' family.
Œdip. O, you immortal gods!—But say, who was't?
Which of the family of Laius gave it?
A servant, or one of the royal blood?
Phor. O wretched state! I die, unless I speak;
And if I speak, most certain death attends me!