re done.
Follow me, princes; Thebans, all to rest.
O, OEdipus, to-morrow--but no more.
If that thy wakeful genius will permit,
Indulge thy brain this night with softer slumbers:
To-morrow, O to-morrow!--Sleep, my son;
And in prophetic dreams thy fate be shown.
[_Exeunt_ TIR. ADR. EUR. MAN. _and Theb._

_Manent_ OEDIPUS, JOCASTA, CREON, PYRACMON, HAEMON, _and_ ALCANDER.

_OEdip._ To bed, my fair, my dear, my best Jocasta.
After the toils of war, 'tis wondrous strange
Our loves should thus be dashed. One moment's thought,
And I'll approach the arms of my beloved.

_Joc._ Consume whole years in care, so now and then
I may have leave to feed my famished eyes
With one short passing glance, and sigh my vows:
This, and no more, my lord, is all the passion
Of languishing Jocasta. [_Exit._

_OEdip._ Thou softest, sweetest of the world! good night.--
Nay, she is beauteous too; yet, mighty love!
I never offered to obey thy laws,
But an unusual chillness came upon me;
An unknown hand still checked my forward joy,
Dashed me with blushes, though no light was near;
That even the act became a violation.

_Pyr._ He's strangely thoughtful.

_OEdip._ Hark! who was that? Ha! Creon, didst thou call me?

_Cre._ Not I, my gracious lord, nor any here.

_OEdip._ That's strange! methought I heard a doleful voice
Cry, OEdipus.--The prophet bade me sleep.
He talked of dreams, and visions, and to-morrow!
I'll muse no more; come what will, or can,
My thoughts are clearer than unclouded stars;
And with those thoughts I'll rest. Creon, good-night.
[_Exit with_ HAEM.

_Cre._ Sleep seal your eyes up, sir,--eternal sleep!
But if he sleep and wake again, O all
Tormenting dreams, wild horrors of the night,
And hags of fancy, wing him through the air:
From precipices hurl him headlong down,
Charybdis roar, and death be set before him!

_Alc._ Your curses have already taken effect,
For he looks very sad.

_Cre._ May he be rooted, where he stands, for ever;
His eye-balls never move, brows be unbent,
His blood, his entrails, liver, heart, and bowels,
Be blacker than the place I wish him, hell.

_Pyr._ No more; you tear yourself, but vex not him.
Methinks 'twere brave this night to force the temple,
While blind Tiresias conjures up the fiends,
And pass the time with nice Eurydice.

_Alc._ Try promises and threats,