Cre. O, sacred sir, my royal lord—­

OEdip. What now? 
Thou seem’st affrighted at some dreadful action;
Thy breath comes short, thy darted eyes are fixt
On me for aid, as if thou wert pursued: 
I sent thee to the Thebans; speak thy wonder: 
Fear not; this palace is a sanctuary,
The king himself’s thy guard.

Cre. For me, alas,
My life’s not worth a thought, when weighed with yours! 
But fly, my lord; fly as your life is sacred. 
Your fate is precious to your faithful Creon,
Who therefore, on his knees, thus prostrate begs
You would remove from Thebes, that vows your ruin. 
When I but offered at your innocence,
They gathered stones, and menaced me with death,
And drove me through the streets, with imprecations
Against your sacred person, and those traitors
Who justified your guilt, which cursed Tiresias
Told, as from heaven, was cause of their destruction.

OEdip. Rise, worthy Creon; haste and take our guard,
Rank them in equal part upon the square,
Then open every gate of this our palace,
And let the torrent in.  Hark, it comes. [Shout.
I hear them roar:  Begone, and break down all
The dams, that would oppose their furious passage.
                                          [Exit CREON with Guards.

Enter ADRASTUS, his sword drawn.

Adr. Your city
Is all in arms, all bent to your destruction: 
I heard but now, where I was close confined,
A thundering shout, which made my jailors vanish,
Cry,—­fire the palace! where is the cruel king? 
Yet, by the infernal Gods, those awful powers
That have accused you, which these ears have heard,
And these eyes seen, I must believe you guiltless;
For, since I knew the royal OEdipus,
I have observed in all his acts such truth,
And god-like clearness, that, to the last gush
Of blood and spirits, I’ll defend his life,
And here have sworn to perish by his side.

OEdip. Be witness, Gods, how near this touches me. [Embracing him. O what, what recompence can glory make?

Adr. Defend your innocence, speak like yourself, And awe the rebels with your dauntless virtue.  But hark! the storm comes nearer.

OEdip. Let it come. 
The force of majesty is never known
But in a general wreck:  Then, then is seen
The difference ’twixt a threshold and a throne.

  Enter CREON, PYRACMON, ALCANDER, TIRESIAS, Thebans.

Alc. Where, where’s this cruel king?—­Thebans, behold,
There stands your plague, the ruin, desolation
Of this unhappy—­speak; shall I kill him? 
Or shall he be cast out to banishment?

All Theb. To banishment, away with him!