_OEdip._ Methought thou said'st--(or do I dream thou said'st it!) This murder was on Laius' person done, Where three ways meet? _Joc._ So common fame reports. _OEdip._ Would it had lied! _Joc._ Why, good my lord? _OEdip._ No questions. 'Tis busy time with me; despatch mine first; Say where, where was it done! _Joc._ Mean you the murder? _OEdip._ Could'st thou not answer without naming murder? _Joc._ They say in Phocide; on the verge that parts it From Daulia, and from Delphos. _OEdip._ So!--How long? when happened this? _Joc._ Some little time before you came to Thebes. _OEdip._ What will the gods do with me! _Joc._ What means that thought? _OEdip._ Something: But 'tis not yet your turn to ask: How old was Laius, what his shape, his stature, His action, and his mien? quick, quick, your answer!-- _Joc._ Big made he was, and tall: His port was fierce, Erect his countenance: Manly majesty Sate in his front, and darted from his eyes, Commanding all he viewed: His hair just grizzled, As in a green old age: Bate but his years, You are his picture. _OEdip._ [_Aside._] Pray heaven he drew me not!-- Am I his picture? _Joc._ So I have often told you. _OEdip._ True, you have; Add that unto the rest:--How was the king Attended, when he travelled? _Joc._ By four servants: He went out private. _OEdip._ Well counted still:-- One 'scaped, I hear; what since became of him? _Joc._ When he beheld you first, as king in Thebes, He kneeled, and trembling begged I would dismiss him: He had my leave; and now he lives retired. _OEdip._ This man must be produced: he must, Jocasta. _Joc._ He shall--yet have I leave to ask you why? _OEdip._ Yes, you shall know: For where should I repose The anguish of my soul, but in your breast! I need not tell you Corinth claims my birth; My parents, Polybus and Merope, Two royal names; their only child am I. It happened once,--'twas at a bridal feast,-- One, warm with wine, told me I was a foundling, Not the king's son; I, stung with this reproach, Struck him: My father heard of it: The man Was made ask pardon; and the business hushed. _Joc._ 'Twas somewhat odd. _OEdip._ And strangely it perplexed me. I stole away to Delphos, and implored The god, to tell my certain parentage. He bade me seek no farther:--'Twas my fate To kill my father, and pollute his bed, By marrying her who bore me. _Joc._ Vain, vain oracles! _OEdip._ But yet they frighted me; I looked on Corinth as a place accurst, Resolved my destiny should wait in vain, And never catch me there. _Joc._ Too nice a fear.