To leave the Truth half-found? 'Tis not my mood. JOCASTA. I understand; and tell thee what is good. OEDIPUS. Thy good doth weary me. JOCASTA. O child of woe, I pray God, I pray God, thou never know! OEDIPUS (_turning from her_). Go, fetch the herdsman straight!--This Queen of mine May walk alone to boast her royal line. JOCASTA. [_She twice draws in her breath through her teeth, as if in some sharp pain._ Unhappy one, goodbye! Goodbye before I go: this once, and never never more! [_She comes towards him as though to take a last farewell, then stops suddenly, turns, and rushes into the Palace._ LEADER. King, what was that? She passed like one who flies In very anguish. Dread is o'er mine eyes Lest from this silence break some storm of wrong. [Sidenote: vv. 1076-1097] OEDIPUS. Break what break will! My mind abideth strong To know the roots, how low soe'er they be, Which grew to Oedipus. This woman, she Is proud, methinks, and fears my birth and name Will mar her nobleness. But I, no shame Can ever touch me. I am Fortune's child, Not man's; her mother face hath ever smiled Above me, and my brethren of the sky, The changing Moons, have changed me low and high. There is my lineage true, which none shall wrest From me; who then am I to fear this quest? CHORUS. [_They sing_ OEDIPUS _as the foundling of their own Theban mountain, Kithairon, and doubtless of divine birth._ [_Strophe._ If I, O Kithairon, some vision can borrow From seercraft, if still there is wit in the old, Long, long, through the deep-orbed Moon of the morrow-- So hear me, Olympus!--thy tale shall be told. O mountain of Thebes, a new Theban shall praise thee, One born of thy bosom, one nursed at thy springs; And the old men shall dance to thy glory, and raise thee To worship, O bearer of joy to my kings. And thou, we pray, Look down in peace, O Apollo; I-e, I-e! [Sidenote: vv. 1098-1120] [_Antistrophe._ What Oread mother, unaging, unweeping, Did bear thee, O Babe, to the Crag-walker Pan; Or perchance to Apollo? He loveth the leaping Of herds on the rock-ways unhaunted of man. Or was it the lord of Cyllene, who found thee, Or glad Dionysus, whose home is the height, Who knew thee his own on the mountain, as round thee The White Brides of Helicon laughed for delight? 'Tis there, 'tis there, The joy most liveth of all his dance and prayer. OEDIPUS. If I may judge, ye Elders, who have ne'er Seen him, methinks I see the shepherd there Whom we have sought so long. His weight of years Fits well with our Corinthian messenger's; And, more, I know the men who guide his way, Bondsmen of mine own house. Thou, friend, wilt say Most surely, who hast known the man of old. LEADER.