groans, though he bend with the load,
Though he burst with the weight of the terrible god._

_Tir._ The wretch, who shed the blood of old Labdacides,
Lives, and is great;
But cruel greatness ne'er was long.
The first of Laius' blood his life did seize,
And urged his fate,
Which else had lasting been and strong.
The wretch, who Laius killed, must bleed or fly;
Or Thebes, consumed with plagues, in ruins lie.

_OEdip._ The first of Laius' blood! pronounce the person;
May the god roar from thy prophetic mouth,
That even the dead may start up, to behold;
Name him, I say, that most accursed wretch,
For, by the stars, he dies!
Speak, I command thee;
By Phoebus, speak; for sudden death's his doom:
Here shall he fall, bleed on this very spot;
His name, I charge thee once more, speak.

_Tir._ 'Tis lost,
Like what we think can never shun remembrance;
Yet of a sudden's gone beyond the clouds.

_OEdip._ Fetch it from thence; I'll have't, wheree'er it be.

_Cre._ Let me entreat you, sacred sir, be calm,
And Creon shall point out the great offender.
'Tis true, respect of nature might enjoin
Me silence, at another time; but, oh,
Much more the power of my eternal love!
That, that should strike me dumb; yet Thebes, my country--
I'll break through all, to succour thee, poor city!
O, I must speak.

_OEdip._ Speak then, if aught thou knowest,
As much thou seem'st to know,--delay no longer.

_Cre._ O beauty! O illustrious, royal maid!
To whom my vows were ever paid, till now;
And with such modest, chaste, and pure affection,
The coldest nymph might read'em without blushing;
Art thou the murdress, then, of wretched Laius?
And I, must I accuse thee! O my tears!
Why will you fall in so abhorred a cause?
But that thy beauteous, barbarous hand destroyed
Thy father, (O monstrous act!) both gods
And men at once take notice.

_OEdip._ Eurydice!

_Eur._ Traitor, go on; I scorn thy little malice;
And knowing more my perfect innocence,
Than gods and men, then how much more than thee,
Who art their opposite, and formed a liar,
I thus disdain thee! Thou once didst talk of love;
Because I hate thy love,
Thou dost accuse me.

_Adr._ Villain, inglorious villain,
And traitor, doubly damned, who durst blaspheme
The spotless virtue of the brightest beauty;
Thou diest: Nor shall the sacred majesty, [_Draws and wounds him._
That guards this place, preserve thee from my rage.

_OEdip._ Disarm them both!--Prince, I shall make y