LEADER OF CH.  I know not how to call thee wise in this: 
Thou wert better dead than to be blind and live.

OED. That this last act hath not been for the best
Instruct me not, nor counsel me again. 
How, if I kept my sight, could I have looked
In Hades on my father’s countenance,
Or mine all hapless mother, when, toward both,
I have done deeds no death can e’er atone? 
Ah! but my children were a sight of joy,—­
Offspring of such a marriage! were they so? 
Never, to eyes of mine! nor town, nor tower,
Nor holy shrines o’ the gods, which I myself,
Dowered with the fairest life of Theban men,
Have forfeited, alas, by mine own law,
Declaring men should drive from every door
One marked by Heaven as impious and impure,
Nay worse, of Laius born!  And was I then,
By mine own edict branded thus, to look
On Theban faces with unaltered eye? 
Nay verily, but had there been a way
To stop the hearing fountain through the ear,
I had not faltered, but had closed and barred
Each gate of this poor body, deaf and blind! 
So thought might sweetly dwell at rest from ill
Cithaeron!  Why didst thou receive me?  Why
Not slay me then and there?  So had I not
Told to the world the horror of my birth. 
O foster home of Corinth and her king,
How bright the life ye cherished, filming o’er
What foulness far beneath!  For I am vile,
And vile were both my parents.  So ’tis proved
O cross road in the covert of the glen,
O thicket in the gorge where three ways met,
Bedewed by these my hands with mine own blood
From whence I sprang—­have ye forgotten me? 
Or doth some memory haunt you of the deeds
I did before you, and went on to do
Worse horrors here?  O marriage twice accurst! 
That gave me being, and then again sent forth
Fresh saplings springing from the selfsame seed,
To amaze men’s eyes and minds with dire confusion
Of father, brother, son, bride, mother, wife,
Murder of parents, and all shames that are! 
Silence alone befits such deeds.  Then, pray you,
Hide me immediately away from men! 
Kill me outright, or fling me far to sea,
Where never ye may look upon me more. 
Come, lend your hand unto my misery! 
Comply, and fear not, for my load of woe
Is incommunicable to all but me.

CH.  With timely presence to fulfil thy need
With act and counsel, Creon comes, who now
Is regent o’er this people in thy room.

OED. Alas, what shall I say to him?  What plea
For my defence will hold?  My evil part
Toward him in all the past is clearly proved.

Enter CREON.

CR.  I come not, Oedipus, to mock thy woes,
Nor to reproach thee for thine evils past. 
But ye, (to Chorus) if all respect of mortal eye
Be dead, let awe of the universal flame
Of life’s great nourisher, our lord the Sun,
Forbid your holding thus unveiled to view
This huge abomination, which nor Earth
Nor sacred Element, nor light of Heaven
Can once endure.  Convey him in with speed. 
Religion bids that kindred eyes and ears
Alone should witness kindred crime and woe.