The shock of his own curse on his own hall.
Meanwhile he needs some comfort and some guide,
For such a load of misery who can bear?
Thyself shalt judge: for, lo, the palace-gates
Unfold, and presently thine eyes will see
A hateful sight, yet one thou needs must pity.
Enter Oedipus, blind and unattended.
Leader of Ch. O horror of the world!
Too great for mortal eye!
More terrible than all I have known of ill!
What fury of wild thought
Came o’er thee? Who in heaven
Hath leapt against thy hapless life
With boundings out of measure fierce and huge?
Ah! wretched one, I cannot look on thee:
No, though I long to search, to ask, to learn.
Thine aspect is too horrible.—I cannot!
Oed. Me miserable! Whither am I borne?
Into what region are these wavering sounds
Wafted on aimless wings? O ruthless Fate!
To what a height thy fury hath soared!
Ch. Too far
For human sense to follow, or human thought
To endure the horror.
Oed. O dark cloud, descending I 1
Unutterably on me! invincible,
Abhorred, borne onward by too sure a wind.
Woe, woe!
Woe! Yet again I voice it, with such pangs
Both from these piercing wounds I am assailed
And from within through memory of my grief.
Ch. Nay, ’tis no marvel if thy matchless woe
Redouble thine affliction and thy moan!
Oed. Ah! Friend, thou art still constant! Thou remainest I 2
To tend me and to care for the blind man.
Alas!
