Tiresias.
Shall I say more, to see thee rage again?
Oedipus.
Oh, take thy fill of speech: ’twill all be vain.
Tiresias.
Thou livest with those near to thee in shame
Most deadly, seeing not thyself nor them.
Oedipus.
Thou think’st ’twill help thee, thus to speak and speak?
Tiresias.
Surely, until the strength of Truth be weak.
Oedipus.
’Tis weak to none save thee. Thou hast no part
In truth, thou blind man, blind eyes, ears and heart.
Tiresias.
More blind, more sad thy words of scorn, which none
Who hears but shall cast back on thee: soon, soon.
Oedipus.
Thou spawn of Night, not I nor any free
And seeing man would hurt a thing like thee.
Tiresias.
God is enough.—’Tis not my doom to fall
By thee. He knows and shall accomplish all.
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