MESSENGER. A touch will lay the aged form to sleep. OEDIPUS. He died, poor king, by sickness it would seem. MESSENGER. By sickness added to his length of years. OEDIPUS. Fie on it, wife! why should we ever waste One thought on that prophetic Pythian shrine, Or on the notes of birds whose boding cry Foretold that I should be a parricide? Beneath the ground my father lies, and I Am guiltless of his blood, unless his heart Broke at my loss, and thus through me he died. These prophecies that trouble us are naught, Are buried in the grave of Polybus. JOCASTA. Said I not from the first it would be so? OEDIPUS. Thou didst, but I was led astray by fear. JOCASTA. Henceforth dismiss these bugbears from thy soul. OEDIPUS. The incest--have I not still that to dread? JOCASTA. Why should man fear whose life is but the sport Of chance, to whom the future is all dark? 'Tis best to live at hazard as one may. For that predicted incest, dread it not, For many a man has in a dream ere this Lain with his mother. He who takes no thought Of such hobgoblins, lives the easiest life. OEDIPUS. All thou hast said would have my full assent Were not my mother still alive; but now, Though thou say'st well, I cannot choose but fear. JOCASTA. A light of hope shines from your father's grave. OEDIPUS. Yes, but my mother lives, and fear with her. MESSENGER. What, lady, is the cause of your alarm? OEDIPUS. 'Tis Merope, the Queen of Polybus. MESSENGER. And what is there in her to breed your fears? OEDIPUS. A dreadful ordinance of destiny. MESSENGER. Is it a mystery? May it be told? OEDIPUS. It may be told. The god before my birth Foreshowed that with my mother I should lie, And shed with my own hands my father's blood. For which cause I have long my dwelling made Far off from Corinth. Happily, 'tis true, Yet to behold a parent's face is sweet. MESSENGER. Was this the fear that drove thee from that land? OEDIPUS. This, and the dreadful thought of parricide. MESSENGER. Why do I not at once, as here I am Wishing thy good, relieve thee of that fear? OEDIPUS. Thou wouldst not fail to reap my gratitude. MESSENGER. 'Twas to that end I came, that to thy home When thou hadst come I might the gainer be. OEDIPUS. Home, while my mother lives, I will not go. MESSENGER. My son, 'tis plain thou know'st not what thou dost. OEDIPUS. How? By the gods, old man, explain to me! MESSENGER. If thou on her account dost shun thy home. OEDIPUS. I fear the god's prediction may prove true. MESSENGER. Touching the stain of incest, wouldst thou say? OEDIPUS. 'Tis this, old man, I dread unceasingly. MESSENGER. Knowest thou not that thy alarms are vain? OEDIPUS. How vain, if of these parents I was born? MESSENGER. Polybus was no relative of thine. OEDIPUS. What say'st thou? Was not Polybus my sire? MESSENGER. As much thy sire as I am, and no more. OEDIPUS. Can father and not father be the same? MESSENGER.