Oedipus.

Oedipus.

And what strange mischief, when your master lay

Thus fallen, held you back from search and deed?

Creon.

Creon.

The dark-songed Sphinx was here. We had no heed

Of distant sorrows, having death so near.

Oedipus.

Oedipus.

It falls on me then. I will search and clear

This darkness.—Well hath Phoebus done, and thou

Too, to recall that dead king, even now,

And with you for the right I also stand,

To obey the God and succour this dear land.

Nor is it as for one that touches me

Far off; 'tis for mine own sake I must see

This sin cast out. Whoe'er it was that slew

Laïus, the same wild hand may seek me too:

And caring thus for Laïus, is but care

 Prev. P 19/150 next