Shepherd.
I call him not to mind, I must think more.
Stranger.
Small wonder that, O King! But I will throw
Light on his memories.—Right well I know
He knows the time when, all Kithairon through,
I with one wandering herd and he with two,
Three times we neighboured one another, clear
From spring to autumn stars, a good half-year.
At winter’s fall we parted; he drove down
To his master’s fold, and I back to mine own. . . .
Dost call it back, friend? Was it as I say?
Shepherd.
It was. It was. . . . ’Tis all so far away.
Stranger.
Say then: thou gavest me once, there in the wild,
A babe to rear far off as mine own child?
Shepherd.
[His terror returning.
What does this mean? To what end askest thou?
Stranger.
[Pointing to Oedipus.
That babe has grown, friend. ’Tis our master now.
Shepherd.
[He slowly understands, then stands for a moment horror-struck.
No, in the name of death! . . . Fool, hold thy peace.
[He lifts his staff at the Stranger.
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