OEdipus at first believes that the aged prophet is merely the tool of others, who are engaged in a conspiracy to expel him from the throne; but when Jocasta, in her innocence, informs him of the death of Laius, names the mountain pass in which he fell, slain, as was supposed, by a robber band, and describes his dress and person, OEdipus is startled at the thought that he himself was the slayer, and he exclaims, "Great Zeus! what fate hast thou decreed for me? Woe! woe! 'tis all too clear." Yet there is one hope left. The man whom he slew in that same mountain pass fell by no robber band, and, therefore, could not have been Laius. Soon even this hope deserts him, when the story is truly told. He learns, moreover, that he is not the son of Polybus, the Corinthian king, but a foundling adopted by his queen. Connecting this with the story now told him by Jocasta, of her infant son, whom she supposed to have perished on the mountain, the horrid truth begins to dawn upon all. Jocasta rushes from the presence of OEdipus, exclaiming, "Woe! woe! ill-fated one! my last word this, This only, and no more for evermore." When the old shepherd, forced to declare the truth, tells how he saved the life of the infant, and gave it into the keeping of the herdsman of Polybus, the evil-starred OEdipus exclaims, in agony of spirit: "Woe! woe! woe! all cometh clear at last. O light! may this my last glance be on thee, Who now am seen owing my birth to those To whom I ought not, and with whom I ought not In wedlock living, whom I ought not slaying." Horrors still thicken in this terrible tragedy. Word is brought to OEdipus that Jocasta is dead--dead by her own hand! He rushes in: Then came a sight Most fearful. Tearing from her robe the clasps, All chased with gold, with which she decked herself, He with them struck the pupils of his eyes, With words like these--"Because they had not seen What ills he suffered and what ills he did, They in the dark should look, in time to come, On those whom they ought never to have seen, Nor know the dear ones whom he fain had known." With such-like wails, not once or twice alone, Raising his eyes, he smote them; and the balls, All bleeding, stained his cheek, nor poured they forth Gore drops slow trickling, but the purple shower Fell fast and full, a pelting storm of blood. The now blind and wretched OEdipus, bewailing his fate and the evils he had so unwittingly brought upon Thebes, begs to be cast forth with all speed from out the land. OEdipus. Lead me away, my friends, with utmost speed Lead me away; the foul, polluted one, Of all men most accursed, Most hateful to the gods. Chorus. Ah, wretched one, alike in soul and doom, I fain could wish that I had never known thee.