SCENE I.--_An open Gallery. A Royal Bed-chamber being supposed behind.

The Time, Night. Thunder, &c._

_Enter_ HÆMON, ALCANDER, _and_ PYRACMON.

_Hæm._ Sure 'tis the end of all things! fate has torn The lock of time off, and his head is now The ghastly ball of round eternity! Call you these peals of thunder, but the yawn Of bellowing clouds? By Jove, they seem to me The world's last groans; and those vast sheets of flame Are its last blaze. The tapers of the gods, The sun and moon, run down like waxen-globes; The shooting stars end all in purple jellies[6], And chaos is at hand.

_Pyr._ 'Tis midnight, yet there's not a Theban sleeps, But such as ne'er must wake. All crowd about The palace, and implore, as from a god, Help of the king; who, from the battlement, By the red lightning's glare descried afar, Atones the angry powers. [_Thunder, &c._

_Hæm._ Ha! Pyracmon, look; Behold, Alcander, from yon' west of heaven, The perfect figures of a man and woman; A sceptre, bright with gems, in each right hand, Their flowing robes of dazzling purple made: Distinctly yonder in that point they stand, Just west; a bloody red stains all the place; And see, their faces are quite hid in clouds.

_Pyr._ Clusters of golden stars hang o'er their heads, And seem so crowded, that they burst upon them: All dart at once their baleful influence, In leaking fire.

_Alc._ Long-bearded comets stick, Like flaming porcupines, to their left sides, As they would shoot their quills into their hearts.

_Hæm._ But see! the king, and queen, and all the court! Did ever day or night shew aught like this? [_Thunders again. The Scene draws, and discovers the Prodigies._

_Enter_ OEDIPUS, JOCASTA, EURYDICE, ADRASTUS; _and all coming forward with amazement._

_OEdip._ Answer, you powers divine! spare all this noise, This rack of heaven, and speak your fatal pleasure. Why breaks yon dark and dusky orb away? Why from the bleeding womb of monstrous night, Burst forth such myriads of abortive stars? Ha! my Jocasta, look! the silver moon! A settling crimson stains her beauteous face! She's all o'er blood! and look, behold again, What mean the mystic heavens she journies on? A vast eclipse darkens the labouring planet:-- Sound there, sound all our instruments of war; Clarions and trumpets, silver, brass, and iron, And beat a thousand drums, to help her labour.

_Adr._ 'Tis vain; you see the prodigies continue; Let's gaze no more, the gods are humorous.

_OEdip._ Forbear, rash man.--Once more I ask your pleasure! If that the glow-worm light of human reason Might dare to offer at immortal knowledge, And cope with gods, why all this storm of nature? Why do the rocks split, and why rolls the sea? Why those portents in heaven, and plagues on earth? Why yon gigantic forms, ethereal monsters? Alas! is all this but to fright the dwarfs, Which your own hands have made? Then be it so. Or if the fates resolve some expiation For murdered Laius; hear me, hear me, gods! Hear me thus prostrate: Spare this groaning land, Save innocent Thebes, stop the tyrant death; Do this, and lo, I stand up an oblation, To meet your swiftest and severest anger; Shoot all at once, and strike me to the centre.

_The Cloud draws, that veiled the Heads of the Figures in the Sky, and shews them crowned, with the names of_ OEDIPUS _and_ JOCASTA, _written above in great characters of gold._

_Adr._ Either I dream, and all my cooler senses Are vanished with that cloud that fleets away, Or just above those two majestic heads, I see, I read distinctly, in large gold, _OEdipus and Jocasta._

_Alc._ I read the same.

_Adr._ 'Tis wonderful; yet ought not man to wade Too far in the vast deep of destiny. [_Thunder; and the Prodigies vanish._

_Joc._ My lord, my OEdipus, why gaze you now, When the whole heaven is clear, as if the gods Had some new monsters made? will you not turn, And bless your people, who devour each word You breathe?

_OEdip._ It shall be so. Yes, I will die, O Thebes, to save thee! Draw from my heart my blood, with more content Than e'er I wore thy crown.--Yet, O Jocasta! By all the endearments of miraculous love, By all our languishings, our fears in pleasure, Which oft have made us wonder; here I swear, On thy fair hand, upon thy breast I swear, I cannot call to mind, from budding childhood To blooming youth, a crime by me committed, For which the awful gods should doom my death.

_Joc._ 'Tis not you, my lord, But he who murdered Laius, frees the land. Were you, which is impossible, the man, Perhaps my poniard first should drink your blood; But you are innocent, as your Jocasta, From crimes like those. This made me violent To save your life, which you unjust would lose: Nor can you comprehend, with deepest thought, The horrid agony you cast me in, When you resolved to die.

_OEdip._ Is't possible?

_Joc._ Alas! why start you so? Her stiffening grief, Who saw her children slaughtered all at once, Was dull to mine: Methinks, I should have made My bosom bare against the armed god, To save my OEdipus!

_OEdip._ I pray, no more.

_Joc._ You've silenced me, my lord.

_OEdip._ Pardon me, dear Jocasta! Pardon a heart that sinks with sufferings, And can but vent itself in sobs and murmurs: Yet, to restore my peace, I'll find him out. Yes, yes, you gods! you shall have ample vengeance On Laius' murderer. O, the traitor's name! I'll know't, I will; art shall be conjured for it, And nature all unravelled.

_Joc._ Sacred sir--

_OEdip._ Rage will have way, and 'tis but just; I'll fetch him, Though lodged in air upon a dragon's wing, Though rocks should hide him: Nay, he shall be dragged From hell, if charms can hurry him along: His ghost shall be, by sage Tiresias' power,-- Tiresias, that rules all beneath the moon,-- Confined to flesh, to suffer death once more; And then be plunged in his first fires again.

_Enter_ CREON.

_Cre._ My lord, Tiresias attends your pleasure.

_OEdip._ Haste, and bring him in.-- O, my Jocasta, Eurydice, Adrastus, Creon, and all ye Thebans, now the end Of plagues, of madness, murders, prodigies, Draws on: This battle of the heavens and earth Shall by his wisdom be reduced to peace.

_Enter_ TIRESIAS, _leaning on a staff, led by his Daughter_ MANTO, _followed by other Thebans._

O thou, whose most aspiring mind Knows all the business of the courts above, Opens the closets of the gods, and dares To mix with Jove himself and Fate at council; O prophet, answer me, declare aloud The traitor, who conspired the death of Laius; Or be they more, who from malignant stars Have drawn this plague, that blasts unhappy Thebes?

_Tir._ We must no more than Fate commissions us To tell; yet something, and of moment, I'll unfold, If that the god would wake; I feel him now, Like a strong spirit charmed into a tree, That leaps, and moves the wood without a wind: The roused god, as all this while he lay Entombed alive, starts and dilates himself; He struggles, and he tears my aged trunk With holy fury; my old arteries burst; My rivell'd skin, Like parchment, crackles at the hallowed fire; I shall be young again:--Manto, my daughter, Thou hast a voice that might have saved the bard Of Thrace, and forced the raging bacchanals, With lifted prongs, to listen to thy airs. O charm this god, this fury in my bosom, Lull him with tuneful notes, and artful strings, With powerful strains; Manto, my lovely child, Sooth the unruly godhead to be mild.

SONG TO APOLLO.

_Phoebus, god beloved by men, At thy dawn, every beast is roused in his den; At thy setting, all the birds of thy absence complain, And we die, all die, till the morning comes again. Phoebus, god beloved by men! Idol of the eastern kings, Awful as the god who flings His thunder round, and the lightning wings; God of songs, and Orphean strings, Who to this mortal bosom brings All harmonious heavenly things! Thy drowsy prophet to revive, Ten thousand thousand forms before him drive: With chariots and horses all o'fire awake him, Convulsions, and furies, and prophesies shake him: Let him tell it in groans, though he bend with the load, Though he burst with the weight of the terrible god._

_Tir._ The wretch, who shed the blood of old Labdacides, Lives, and is great; But cruel greatness ne'er was long. The first of Laius' blood his life did seize, And urged his fate, Which else had lasting been and strong. The wretch, who Laius killed, must bleed or fly; Or Thebes, consumed with plagues, in ruins lie.

_OEdip._ The first of Laius' blood! pronounce the person; May the god roar from thy prophetic mouth, That even the dead may start up, to behold; Name him, I say, that most accursed wretch, For, by the stars, he dies! Speak, I command thee; By Phoebus, speak; for sudden death's his doom: Here shall he fall, bleed on this very spot; His name, I charge thee once more, speak.

_Tir._ 'Tis lost, Like what we think can never shun remembrance; Yet of a sudden's gone beyond the clouds.

_OEdip._ Fetch it from thence; I'll have't, wheree'er it be.

_Cre._ Let me entreat you, sacred sir, be calm, And Creon shall point out the great offender. 'Tis true, respect of nature might enjoin Me silence, at another time; but, oh, Much more the power of my eternal love! That, that should strike me dumb; yet Thebes, my country-- I'll break through all, to succour thee, poor city! O, I must speak.

_OEdip._ Speak then, if aught thou knowest, As much thou seem'st to know,--delay no longer.

_Cre._ O beauty! O illustrious, royal maid! To whom my vows were ever paid, till now; And with such modest, chaste, and pure affection, The coldest nymph might read'em without blushing; Art thou the murdress, then, of wretched Laius? And I, must I accuse thee! O my tears! Why will you fall in so abhorred a cause? But that thy beauteous, barbarous hand destroyed Thy father, (O monstrous act!) both gods And men at once take notice.

_OEdip._ Eurydice!

_Eur._ Traitor, go on; I scorn thy little malice; And knowing more my perfect innocence, Than gods and men, then how much more than thee, Who art their opposite, and formed a liar, I thus disdain thee! Thou once didst talk of love; Because I hate thy love, Thou dost accuse me.

_Adr._ Villain, inglorious villain, And traitor, doubly damned, who durst blaspheme The spotless virtue of the brightest beauty; Thou diest: Nor shall the sacred majesty, [_Draws and wounds him._ That guards this place, preserve thee from my rage.

_OEdip._ Disarm them both!--Prince, I shall make you know, That, I can tame you twice. Guards, seize him.

_Adr._ Sir, I must acknowledge, in another cause Repentance might abash me; but I glory In this, and smile to see the traitor's blood.

_OEdip._ Creon, you shall be satisfied at full.

_Cre._ My hurt is nothing, sir; but I appeal To wise Tiresias, if my accusation Be not most true. The first of Laius' blood Gave him his death. Is there a prince before her? Then she is faultless, and I ask her pardon. And may this blood ne'er cease to drop, O Thebes, If pity of thy sufferings did not move me, To shew the cure which heaven itself prescribed.

_Eur._ Yes, Thebans, I will die to save your lives. More willingly than you can wish my fate; But let this good, this wise, this holy man, Pronounce my sentence: For to fall by him, By the vile breath of that prodigious villain, Would sink my soul, though I should die a martyr.

_Adr._ Unhand me, slaves.--O mightiest of kings, See at your feet a prince not used to kneel; Touch not Eurydice, by all the gods, As you would save your Thebes, but take my life: For should she perish, heaven would heap plagues on plagues, Rain sulphur down, hurl kindled bolts Upon your guilty heads.

_Cre._ You turn to gallantry, what is but justice; Proof will be easy made. Adrastus was The robber, who bereft the unhappy king Of life; because he flatly had denied To make so poor a prince his son-in-law; Therefore 'twere fit that both should perish.

_1 Theb._ Both, let both die.

_All Theb._ Both, both; let them die.

_OEdip._ Hence, you wild herd! For your ringleader here, He shall be made example. Hæmon, take him.

_1 Theb._ Mercy, O mercy!

_OEdip._ Mutiny in my presence! Hence, let me see that busy face no more.

_Tir._ Thebans, what madness makes you drunk with rage? Enough of guilty death's already acted: Fierce Creon has accused Eurydice, With prince Adrastus; which the god reproves By inward checks, and leaves their fates in doubt.

_OEdip._ Therefore instruct us what remains to do, Or suffer; for I feel a sleep like death Upon me, and I sigh to be at rest.

_Tir._ Since that the powers divine refuse to clear The mystic deed, I'll to the grove of furies; There I can force the infernal gods to shew Their horrid forms; each trembling ghost shall rise, And leave their grisly king without a waiter. For prince Adrastus and Eurydice, My life's engaged, I'll guard them in the fane, 'Till the dark mysteries of hell are done. Follow me, princes; Thebans, all to rest. O, OEdipus, to-morrow--but no more. If that thy wakeful genius will permit, Indulge thy brain this night with softer slumbers: To-morrow, O to-morrow!--Sleep, my son; And in prophetic dreams thy fate be shown. [_Exeunt_ TIR. ADR. EUR. MAN. _and Theb._

_Manent_ OEDIPUS, JOCASTA, CREON, PYRACMON, HÆMON, _and_ ALCANDER.

_OEdip._ To bed, my fair, my dear, my best Jocasta. After the toils of war, 'tis wondrous strange Our loves should thus be dashed. One moment's thought, And I'll approach the arms of my beloved.

_Joc._ Consume whole years in care, so now and then I may have leave to feed my famished eyes With one short passing glance, and sigh my vows: This, and no more, my lord, is all the passion Of languishing Jocasta. [_Exit._

_OEdip._ Thou softest, sweetest of the world! good night.-- Nay, she is beauteous too; yet, mighty love! I never offered to obey thy laws, But an unusual chillness came upon me; An unknown hand still checked my forward joy, Dashed me with blushes, though no light was near; That even the act became a violation.

_Pyr._ He's strangely thoughtful.

_OEdip._ Hark! who was that? Ha! Creon, didst thou call me?

_Cre._ Not I, my gracious lord, nor any here.

_OEdip._ That's strange! methought I heard a doleful voice Cry, OEdipus.--The prophet bade me sleep. He talked of dreams, and visions, and to-morrow! I'll muse no more; come what will, or can, My thoughts are clearer than unclouded stars; And with those thoughts I'll rest. Creon, good-night. [_Exit with_ HÆM.

_Cre._ Sleep seal your eyes up, sir,--eternal sleep! But if he sleep and wake again, O all Tormenting dreams, wild horrors of the night, And hags of fancy, wing him through the air: From precipices hurl him headlong down, Charybdis roar, and death be set before him!

_Alc._ Your curses have already taken effect, For he looks very sad.

_Cre._ May he be rooted, where he stands, for ever; His eye-balls never move, brows be unbent, His blood, his entrails, liver, heart, and bowels, Be blacker than the place I wish him, hell.

_Pyr._ No more; you tear yourself, but vex not him. Methinks 'twere brave this night to force the temple, While blind Tiresias conjures up the fiends, And pass the time with nice Eurydice.

_Alc._ Try promises and threats, and if all fail, Since hell's broke loose, why should not you be mad? Ravish, and leave her dead with her Adrastus.

_Cre._ Were the globe mine, I'd give a province hourly For such another thought.--Lust and revenge! To stab at once the only man I hate, And to enjoy the woman whom I love! I ask no more of my auspicious stars, The rest as fortune please; so but this night She play me fair, why, let her turn for ever.

_Enter_ HÆMON.

_Hæm._ My lord, the troubled king is gone to rest; Yet, ere he slept, commanded me to clear The antichambers; none must dare be near him.

_Cre._ Hæmon, you do your duty; [_Thunder._ And we obey.--The night grows yet more dreadful! 'Tis just that all retire to their devotions. The gods are angry; but to-morrow's dawn, If prophets do not lie, will make all clear.

_As they go off,_ OEDIPUS _enters, walking asleep in his shirt, with a dagger in his right hand, and a taper in his left._

_OEdip._ O, my Jocasta! 'tis for this, the wet Starved soldier lies on the cold ground; For this, he bears the storms Of winter camps, and freezes in his arms; To be thus circled, to be thus embraced. That I could hold thee ever!--Ha! where art thou? What means this melancholy light, that seems The gloom of glowing embers? The curtain's drawn; and see she's here again! Jocasta? Ha! what, fallen asleep so soon? How fares my love? this taper will inform me.-- Ha! Lightning blast me, thunder Rivet me ever to Prometheus' rock, And vultures gnaw out my incestuous heart!-- By all the gods, my mother Merope! My sword! a dagger! ha, who waits there? Slaves, My sword!--What, Hæmon, dar'st thou, villain, stop me? With thy own poniard perish.--Ha! who's this? Or is't a change of death? By all my honours, New murder; thou hast slain old Polybus: Incest and parricide,--thy father's murderer! Out, thou infernal flame!--Now all is dark, All blind and dismal, most triumphant mischief! And now, while thus I stalk about the room, I challenge Fate to find another wretch Like OEdipus! [_Thunder,_ &c.

_Enter_ JOCASTA _attended, with Lights, in a Night-gown._

_OEdip._ Night, horror, death, confusion, hell, and furies! Where am I?--O, Jocasta, let me hold thee, Thus to my bosom! ages let me grasp thee! All that the hardest-tempered weathered flesh, With fiercest human spirit inspired, can dare, Or do, I dare; but, oh you powers, this was, By infinite degrees, too much for man. Methinks my deafened ears Are burst; my eyes, as if they had been knocked By some tempestuous hand, shoot flashing fire;-- That sleep should do this!

_Joc._ Then my fears were true. Methought I heard your voice,--and yet I doubted,-- Now roaring like the ocean, when the winds Fight with the waves; now, in a still small tone Your dying accents fell, as wrecking ships, After the dreadful yell, sink murmuring down, And bubble up a noise.

_OEdip._ Trust me, thou fairest, best of all thy kind, None e'er in dreams was tortured so before. Yet what most shocks the niceness of my temper, Even far beyond the killing of my father, And my own death, is, that this horrid sleep Dashed my sick fancy with an act of incest: I dreamt, Jocasta, that thou wert my mother; Which, though impossible, so damps my spirits, That I could do a mischief on myself, Lest I should sleep, and dream the like again.

_Joc._ O OEdipus, too well I understand you! I know the wrath of heaven, the care of Thebes, The cries of its inhabitants, war's toils, And thousand other labours of the state, Are all referred to you, and ought to take you For ever from Jocasta.

_OEdip._ Life of my life, and treasure of my soul, Heaven knows I love thee.

_Joc._ O, you think me vile, And of an inclination so ignoble, That I must hide me from your eyes for ever. Be witness, gods, and strike Jocasta dead, If an immodest thought, or low desire, Inflamed my breast, since first our loves were lighted.

_OEdip._ O rise, and add not, by thy cruel kindness, A grief more sensible than all my torments. Thou thinkest my dreams are forged; but by thyself, The greatest oath, I swear, they are most true; But, be they what they will, I here dismiss them. Begone, chimeras, to your mother clouds! Is there a fault in us? Have we not searched The womb of heaven, examined all the entrails Of birds and beasts, and tired the prophet's art? Yet what avails? He, and the gods together, Seem, like physicians, at a loss to help us; Therefore, like wretches that have lingered long, We'll snatch the strongest cordial of our love; To bed, my fair.

_Ghost._ [_Within._] OEdipus!

_OEdip._ Ha! who calls? Didst thou not hear a voice?

_Joc._ Alas! I did.

_Ghost._ Jocasta!

_Joc._ O my love, my lord, support me!

_OEdip._ Call louder, till you burst your airy forms!-- Rest on my hand. Thus, armed with innocence, I'll face these babbling dæmons of the air; In spite of ghosts, I'll on. Though round my bed the furies plant their charms, I'll break them, with Jocasta in my arms; Clasped in the folds of love, I'll wait my doom; And act my joys, though thunder shake the room. [_Exeunt._