From his dark eyes thy bleffed light! profcrib'd,
Abandon'd, let him wander o'er the earth
A wretched mifcreant, by his fons abhorr'd,
And to his mother horrible! depriv'd
Of burial, let his body be the prey
Of hungry vultures!

HIGH PRIEST.

In thefe execrations

We all unite.

OEDIPUS.

Gods! let the guilty fuffer,

And they alone! or if the high decrees
Of your eternal juftice leave to me
His punishment, at leaft indulgent grant,
Where you command, the power to obey;
If you purfue the guilty, O complete

The glorious work, and make the victim known!

[To the people. Return, my people, to the temple; there Once more entreat the gods: perhaps your pray'rs May from their heav'nly manfions draw them down To dwell amongst us: if they lov'd the king, They will avenge his death, and kind to him

Who

From his dark eyes thy bleffed light! profcrib'd,
Abandon'd, let him wander o'er the earth
A wretched mifcreant, by his fons abhorr'd,
And to his mother horrible! depriv'd

Of burial, let his body be the prey
Of hungry vultures!

HIGH PRIEST.

In these execrations

We all unite.

OEDIPUS.

Gods! let the guilty fuffer,

And they alone! or if the high decrees.
Of your eternal juftice leave to me.

His punishment, at least indulgent grant,
Where you command, the power to obey ;:
If you pursue the guilty, O complete

The glorious work, and make the victim known!

[To the people. Return, my people, to the temple; there Once more entreat the gods: perhaps your pray'rs May from their heav'nly mansions draw them down To dwell amongst us: if they lov'd the king, They will avenge his death, and kind to him.

Who

Who errs unknowing, will direct this arm

For juftice rais'd, and teach me where to ftrike.

The END of the FIRST ACT.

ACT II. SCENE I.

JOCASTA, EGINA, ARASPES, CHORUS.

BELIEVE

ARASPES.

ELIEVE me, 'tis too true, my royal mistress,
Your dying people, with one common voice,

Accuse the hapless Philoctetes: fate

Hath fent him back to fave this wretched kingdom. -JOCASTA.

What do I hear, ye pow'rs?

EGINA.

'Tis wonderful.

JOCASTA.

Who? Philoctetes?

ARASPES.

Yes, it must be he:

To whom can we impute it but to him?
When laft at Thebes, he feem'd to meditate
A deed like this; for much he hated Laius:

From

From Oedipus his trait'rous purpose scarce
Cou'd he conceal; for foon unwary youth
Betrays itself: foon thro' the thin difguife
Of ill diffembled loyalty, we saw

The rancour of his heart. I know not what
Provok'd him, but too warm and open, ever
The flave of paffion, he wou'd kindle oft
At the king's name, and often pour forth threats.
Of vengeance: for fome time he left the kingdom,
But fate foon brought the reftlefs wand'rer back;
And at that fatal time, which heav'n distinguish'd
By the detefted fhocking parricide,

He was at Thebes: e'er fince that dreadful hour,
Sufpicion juftly falls on Philoctetes:

But the high name which he had gain'd in war,
His boafted title of earth's great avenger,

And his heroic deeds, have ftopp'd the tongue.
Of clamour, and fufpended yet the stroke
Of our refentment. Now the time is come
When Thebes fhall think no more of vain refpect;
His glory and his conquefts plead no more;
The hearts of an oppreffed people groan;
The gods require his blood, and must be heard.

CHORUS.