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OED.
Daughter, what must I think, or do?

ANT.
My sire!
We must conform us to the people’s will,
Yielding ere they compel.

OED.
Give me thy hand.

ANT.
Thou hast it.

OED.
–Strangers, let me not
Be wronged, when I have trusted you
And come from where I stood!

CH.
Assure thee, from this seat
No man shall drag thee off against thy will.

OED.
Farther?

CH.
Advance thy foot.

OED.
Yet more?

CH.
Assist him onward
Maiden, thou hast thy sight.

ANT.
Come, follow, this way follow with thy darkened steps,
Father, the way I am leading thee.

CH.
Content thee, sojourning in a strange land,
O man of woe!
To eschew whate’er the city holds in hate,
And honour what she loves!

OED.
Then do thou lead me, child,
Where with our feet secure from sin
We may be suffered both to speak and hear.
Let us not war against necessity.

CH.
There! From that bench of rock
Go not again astray.

OED.
Even here?

CH.
Enough, I tell thee.

OED.
May I sit?

CH
. Ay, crouch thee low adown
Crooking thy limbs, upon the stone.

ANT.
Father, this task is mine–
Sink gently down into thy resting-place,

OED.
Woe is me!

ANT.
Supporting on this loving hand
Thy reverend aged form.

OED.
Woe, for my cruel fate!

[OEDIPUS is seated]

CH.
Now thou unbendest from thy stubborn ways,
O man of woe!
Declare, what mortal wight thou art,
That, marked by troublous fortune, here art led.
What native country, shall we learn, is thine?

OED.
O strangers, I have none!
But do not–

CH.
What dost thou forbid, old sir?

OED.
Do not, oh, do not ask me who I am,
Nor probe me with more question.

CH.
What dost thou mean?

OED.
My birth is dreadful.

CH.
Tell it forth.

OED.
What should I utter, O my child? Woe is me!

CH.
Thy seed, thy father’s name, stranger, pronounce!

OED.
Alas! What must I do? My child!

ANT.
Since no resource avails thee, speak!

OED.
I will. I cannot hide it further.

CH.
Ye are long about it. Haste thee!

OED.
Know ye of one
Begotten of Laius?

CH.
Horror! Horror! Oh!

OED.
Derived from Labdacus?

CH.
O Heaven!

OED.
Fate-wearied Oedipus?

CH.
Art thou he?

OED.
Fear not my words.

CH.
Oh! Oh!

OED.
Unhappy me!

CH.
Oh!

OED.
Daughter, what is coming?

CH.
Away! Go forth. Leave ye the land. Begone!

OED.
And where, then, is the promise thou hast given?

CH.
No doom retributive attends the deed
That wreaks prevenient wrong.
Deceit, matched with deceit, makes recompense
Of evil, not of kindness. Get thee forth!
Desert that seat again, and from this land
Unmooring speed thee away, lest on our state
Thou bring some further bale!