Tiresias. Tiresias. More blind, more sad thy words of scorn, which none Who hears but shall cast back on thee: soon, soon. Oedipus. Oedipus. Thou spawn of Night, not I nor any free And seeing man would hurt a thing like thee. Tiresias. Tiresias. God is enough.—'Tis not my doom to fall By thee. He knows and shall accomplish all. vv. 378-402 [Pg 23] Oedipus (with a flash of discovery). Oedipus Ha! Creon!—Is it his or thine, this plot? Tiresias. Tiresias. 'Tis thyself hates thee. Creon hates thee not. Oedipus.
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