OEDIPUS.
Oh speak,
Withhold not, I adjure thee, if thou know’st,
Thy knowledge. We are all thy suppliants.
TEIRESIAS.
Aye, for ye all are witless, but my voice
Will ne’er reveal my miseries—or thine.[2]
OEDIPUS.
What then, thou knowest, and yet willst not speak!
Wouldst thou betray us and destroy the State?
TEIRESIAS.
I will not vex myself nor thee. Why ask
Thus idly what from me thou shalt not learn?
OEDIPUS.
Monster! thy silence would incense a flint.
Will nothing loose thy tongue? Can nothing melt thee,
Or shake thy dogged taciturnity?
TEIRESIAS.
Thou blam’st my mood and seest not thine own
Wherewith thou art mated; no, thou taxest me.
OEDIPUS.
And who could stay his choler when he heard
How insolently thou dost flout the State?
TEIRESIAS.
Well, it will come what will, though I be mute.
OEDIPUS.
Since come it must, thy duty is to tell me.
TEIRESIAS.
I have no more to say; storm as thou willst,
And give the rein to all thy pent-up rage.