Yet strange, passing strange, the wise augur and his lore; And my heart it cannot speak; I deny not nor assent, But float, float in wonder at things after and before; Did there lie between their houses some old wrath unspent, That Corinth against Cadmus should do murder by the way? No tale thereof they tell, nor no sign thereof they show; Who dares to rise for vengeance and cast Oedipus away For a dark, dark death long ago! Ah, Zeus knows, and Apollo, what is dark to mortal eyes; They are Gods. But a prophet, hath he vision more than mine? Who hath seen? Who can answer? There be wise men and unwise. I will wait, I will wait, for the proving of the sign. But I list not nor hearken when they speak Oedipus ill. We saw his face of yore, when the riddling singer passed; And we knew him that he loved us, and we saw him great in skill. Oh, my heart shall uphold him to the last! [Sidenote: vv. 513-531] _Enter_ CREON. CREON. Good brother citizens, a frantic word I hear is spoken by our chosen Lord Oedipus against me, and here am come Indignant. If he dreams, 'mid all this doom That weighs upon us, he hath had from me Or deed or lightest thought of injury, ... 'Fore God, I have no care to see the sun Longer with such a groaning name. Not one Wound is it, but a multitude, if now All Thebes must hold me guilty--aye, and thou And all who loved me--of a deed so foul. LEADER. If words were spoken, it was scarce the soul That spoke them: 'twas some sudden burst of wrath. CREON. The charge was made, then, that Tiresias hath Made answer false, and that I bribed him, I? LEADER. It was--perchance for jest. I know not why. CREON. His heart beat true, his eyes looked steadily And fell not, laying such a charge on me? LEADER. I know not. I have no eyes for the thing My masters do.--But see, here comes the King. [Sidenote: vv. 532-550] _Enter_ OEDIPUS _from the Palace._ OEDIPUS. How now, assassin? Walking at my gate With eye undimmed, thou plotter demonstrate Against this life, and robber of my crown? God help thee! Me! What was it set me down Thy butt? So dull a brain hast found in me Aforetime, such a faint heart, not to see Thy work betimes, or seeing not to smite? Art thou not rash, this once! It needeth might Of friends, it needeth gold, to make a throne Thy quarry; and I fear me thou hast none. CREON. One thing alone I ask thee. Let me speak As thou hast spoken; then, with knowledge, wreak Thy judgement. I accept it without fear. OEDIPUS. More skill hast thou to speak than I to hear Thee. There is peril found in thee and hate. CREON. That one thing let me answer ere too late. OEDIPUS. One thing be sure of, that thy plots are known. CREON. The man who thinks that bitter pride alone Can guide him, without thought--his mind is sick. [Sidenote: vv. 551-562] OEDIPUS.