JO.  Your father’s burial might enlighten you.

OED. It doth.  But I am darkened by a life.

COR.  SH.  Whose being overshadows thee with fear?

OED. Queen Merope, the consort of your king.

COR.  SH.  What in her life should make your heart afraid?

OED. A heaven-sent oracle of dreadful sound.

COR.  SH.  May it be told, or must no stranger know?

OED. Indeed it may.  Word came from Phoebus once
That I must know my mother’s shame, and shed
With these my hands my own true father’s blood. 
Wherefore long since my home hath been removed
Far from Corinthos:—­not unhappily;
But still ’tis sweet to see a parent’s face.

COR.  SH.  Did fear of this make thee so long an exile?

OED. Of this and parricide, my aged friend.

COR.  SH.  I came with kind intent—­and, dear my lord,
I fain would rid thee from this haunting dread.

OED. Our gratitude should well reward thy love.

COR.  SH.  Hope of reward from thee in thy return
Was one chief motive of my journey hither.

OED. Return?  Not to my parents’ dwelling-place!

COR.  SH.  Son, ’tis too clear, you know not what you do.

OED. Wherefore, kind sir?  For Heaven’s sake teach me this.

COR.  SH.  If for these reasons you avoid your home.

OED. The fear torments me, Phoebus may prove true.

COR.  SH.  Lest from your parents you receive a stain?

OED. That is the life-long torment of my soul.

COR.  SH.  Will you be certified your fears are groundless?

OED. How groundless, if I am my parents’ child?

COR.  SH.  Because with Polybus thou hast no kin.

OED. Why?  Was not he the author of my life?

COR.  SH.  As much as I am, and no more than I.

OED. How can my father be no more to me
Than who is nothing?

COR.  SH.  In begetting thee
Nor I nor he had any part at all.

OED. Why then did he declare me for his son?

COR.  SH.  Because he took thee once a gift from me.

OED. Was all that love unto a foundling shown?

COR.  SH.  Heirless affection so inclined his heart.

OED. A gift from you!  Your purchase, or your child?[5]

COR.  SH.  Found in Cithaeron’s hollowy wilderness.

OED. What led your travelling footstep to that ground?

COR.  SH.  The flocks I tended grazed the mountain there.

OED. A shepherd wast thou, and a wandering hind?

COR.  SH.  Whatever else, my son, thy saviour then.

OED. From what didst thou release me or relieve?

COR.  SH.  Thine instep bears memorial of the pain.

OED. Ah! what old evil will thy words disclose?

COR.  SH.  Thy feet were pierced.  ’Twas I unfastened them.

OED. So cruel to my tender infancy!