Ye oracles of God? For many a year
Oedipus fled before that man, in fear
To slay him. And behold we find him thus
Slain by a chance death, not by Oedipus.
[Oedipus comes out from the Palace.
Oedipus.
Jocasta, thou I love to look upon,
Why call’st thou me from where I sat alone?
Jocasta.
Give ear, and ponder from what this man tells
How end these proud priests and their oracles.
Oedipus.
Whence comes he? And what word hath he for us?
Jocasta.
From Corinth; bearing news that Polybus
Thy father is no more. He has found his death.
Oedipus.
How?—Stranger, speak thyself. This that she saith . . .
Stranger.
Is sure. If that is the first news ye crave,
I tell thee, Polybus lieth in his grave.
Oedipus.
Not murdered? . . . How? Some passing of disease?
Stranger.
A slight thing turns an old life to its peace.
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