OEdip. Hence, you barbarians, to your slavish distance! 
Fix to the earth your sordid looks; for he,
Who stirs, dares more than madmen, fiends, or furies. 
Who dares to face me, by the Gods, as well
May brave the majesty of thundering Jove. 
Did I for this relieve you, when besieged
By this fierce prince, when cooped within your walls,
And to the very brink of fate reduced;
When lean-jawed famine made more havock of you,
Than does the plague?  But I rejoice I know you,
Know the base stuff that tempered your vile souls: 
The Gods be praised, I needed not your empire,
Born to a greater, nobler, of my own;
Nor shall the sceptre of the earth now win me
To rule such brutes, so barbarous a people.

Adr. Methinks, my lord, I see a sad repentance, A general consternation spread among them.

OEdip. My reign is at an end; yet, ere I finish,
I’ll do a justice that becomes a monarch;
A monarch, who, in the midst of swords and javelins,
Dares act as on his throne, encompast round
With nations for his guard.  Alcander, you
Are nobly born, therefore shall lose your head:  [Seizes him.
Here, Haemon, take him:  but for this, and this,
Let cords dispatch them.  Hence, away with them!

Tir. O sacred prince, pardon distracted Thebes,
Pardon her, if she acts by heaven’s award;
If that the infernal spirits have declared
The depth of fate; and if our oracles
May speak, O do not too severely deal! 
But let thy wretched Thebes at least complain. 
If thou art guilty, heaven will make it known;
If innocent, then let Tiresias die.

OEdip. I take thee at thy word.—­Run, haste, and save Alcander: 
I swear, the prophet, or the king shall die. 
Be witness, all you Thebans, of my oath;
And Phorbas be the umpire.

Tir. I submit. [Trumpet sounds.

OEdip. What mean those trumpets?

  Enter HAEMON with ALCANDER, _&c._

Haem. From your native country,
Great sir, the famed AEgeon is arrived,
That renowned favourite of the king your father: 
He comes as an ambassador from Corinth,
And sues for audience.

OEdip. Haste, Haemon, fly, and tell him that I burn To embrace him.

Haem. The queen, my lord, at present holds him In private conference; but behold her here.

  Enter JOCASTA, EURYDICE, _&c._

Joc. Hail, happy OEdipus, happiest of kings! 
Henceforth be blest, blest as thou canst desire;
Sleep without fears the blackest nights away;
Let furies haunt thy palace, thou shalt sleep
Secure, thy slumbers shall be soft and gentle
As infants’ dreams.

OEdip. What does the soul of all my joys intend?  And whither would this rapture?