JO. As you love your life,
By heaven I beg you, search no further here!
The sickness in my bosom is enough.
[page 115][1062-1093] OED. Nay, never fear! Were I proved thrice a slave
And waif of bondwomen, you still are noble.
JO. Yet hearken, I implore you: do not so.
OED. I cannot hear you. I must know this through.
JO. With clear perception I advise the best.
OED. Thy ‘best’ is still my torment.
JO. Wretched one,
Never may’st thou discover who thou art!
OED. Will some one go and bring the herdman hither?
Leave her to revel in her lordly line!
JO. O horrible! O lost one! This alone
I speak to thee, and no word more for ever.[Exit
CH. Oedipus, wherefore is Jocasta gone,
Driven madly by wild grief? I needs must fear
Lest from this silence she make sorrow spring.