Cre. You turn to gallantry, what is but justice;
Proof will be easy made.  Adrastus was
The robber, who bereft the unhappy king
Of life; because he flatly had denied
To make so poor a prince his son-in-law;
Therefore ’twere fit that both should perish.

1 Theb. Both, let both die.

All Theb. Both, both; let them die.

OEdip. Hence, you wild herd!  For your ringleader here, He shall be made example.  Haemon, take him.

1 Theb. Mercy, O mercy!

OEdip. Mutiny in my presence!  Hence, let me see that busy face no more.

Tir. Thebans, what madness makes you drunk with rage? 
Enough of guilty death’s already acted: 
Fierce Creon has accused Eurydice,
With prince Adrastus; which the god reproves
By inward checks, and leaves their fates in doubt.

OEdip. Therefore instruct us what remains to do,
Or suffer; for I feel a sleep like death
Upon me, and I sigh to be at rest.

Tir. Since that the powers divine refuse to clear
The mystic deed, I’ll to the grove of furies;
There I can force the infernal gods to shew
Their horrid forms; each trembling ghost shall rise,
And leave their grisly king without a waiter. 
For prince Adrastus and Eurydice,
My life’s engaged, I’ll guard them in the fane,
’Till the dark mysteries of hell are done. 
Follow me, princes; Thebans, all to rest. 
O, OEdipus, to-morrow—­but no more. 
If that thy wakeful genius will permit,
Indulge thy brain this night with softer slumbers: 
To-morrow, O to-morrow!—­Sleep, my son;
And in prophetic dreams thy fate be shown.
                             [Exeunt TIR.  ADR. EUR.  MAN. and Theb.

Manent OEDIPUS, JOCASTA, CREON, PYRACMON, HAEMON, and ALCANDER.

OEdip. To bed, my fair, my dear, my best Jocasta. 
After the toils of war, ’tis wondrous strange
Our loves should thus be dashed.  One moment’s thought,
And I’ll approach the arms of my beloved.

Joc. Consume whole years in care, so now and then
I may have leave to feed my famished eyes
With one short passing glance, and sigh my vows: 
This, and no more, my lord, is all the passion
Of languishing Jocasta. [Exit.

OEdip. Thou softest, sweetest of the world! good night.—­
Nay, she is beauteous too; yet, mighty love! 
I never offered to obey thy laws,
But an unusual chillness came upon me;
An unknown hand still checked my forward joy,
Dashed me with blushes, though no light was near;
That even the act became a violation.

Pyr. He’s strangely thoughtful.

OEdip. Hark! who was that?  Ha!  Creon, didst thou call me?

Cre. Not I, my gracious lord, nor any here.