Oed. The fear appals me that the seer can see.
Tell one thing more, to make it doubly clear.
Jo. I am loth to speak, but, when you ask, I will.
Oed. Had he scant following, or, as princes use,
Full numbers of a well-appointed train?
Jo. There were but five in all: a herald one;
And Laius travelled in the only car.
Oed. Woe! woe! ’Tis clear as daylight. Who was he
That brought you this dire message, O my queen?
Jo. A home-slave, who alone returned alive.
Oed. And is he now at hand within the house?
Jo. No, truly. When he came from yonder scene
And found thee king in room of Laius murdered,
He touched my hand, and made his instant prayer
That I would send him to o’erlook the flocks
And rural pastures, so to live as far
As might be from the very thought of Thebes.
I granted his desire. No servant ever
More richly merited such boon than he.
Oed. Can he be brought again immediately?
Jo. Indeed he can. But why desire it so?
Oed. Words have by me been uttered, O my queen,
That give me too much cause to wish him here.
Jo. Then come he shall. But I may surely claim
To hear what in thy state goes heavily.
Oed. Thou shalt not lose thy rights in such an hour,
When I am harrowed thus with doubt and fear.
To whom more worthy should I tell my grief?
—My father was Corinthian Polybus,
My mother, Dorian Meropè.—I lived
A prince among that people, till a chance
Encountered me, worth wonder, but, though strange,
Not worth the anxious thought it waked in me.
For at a feasting once over the wine
One deep in liquor called aloud to me,
‘Hail, thou false foundling of a foster-sire!’
That day with pain I held my passion down;
But early on the morrow I came near
And questioned both my parents, who were fierce
