"Climbing oft, Pride seeks to dwell
Throned on Fortune's pinnacle;
Hurried from the summit straight
Down the vast abrupt of Fate;
Hurled from realms of highest bliss,
Sinks she in the dark abyss.
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God, in whom for aye I'll trust,
Holds His shield before the just!
But for the man whose heart is known
By haughty deed and lofty tone,
Spurning Heaven, and wrapt in self,
Led by sordid lust of pelf,—
Unto them may Fate dispense
Pride's unfailing recompense.
Conscience! thou to such canst deal
Heavier stroke than blade of steel;
Else, if man may Heaven defy,
If sleeps the vengeance of the sky—
Why this idle chant prolong?
Still be the dance, and hushed the song!"—(A.)
At this point begins the dénouement or disentanglement of the plot, in which. Sophocles was thought especially to excel.
A messenger arrives from Corinth, bringing what he conceives to be good news. Polybus is dead, and Œdipus has been elected by acclamation king of "the city on two seas." Jocasta—who, with a woman's fickleness, is on her way bearing flowers and incense to the altars of the god whom she had just insulted—meets the messenger, and is wild with joy when she hears her own opinion of the falsity of oracles, as she believes, thus undoubtedly confirmed; and she sum-
