Enter Oedipus from the Palace.
Oedipus.
How now, assassin? Walking at my gate
With eye undimmed, thou plotter demonstrate
Against this life, and robber of my crown?
God help thee! Me! What was it set me down
Thy butt? So dull a brain hast found in me
Aforetime, such a faint heart, not to see
Thy work betimes, or seeing not to smite?
Art thou not rash, this once! It needeth might
Of friends, it needeth gold, to make a throne
Thy quarry; and I fear me thou hast none.
Creon.
One thing alone I ask thee. Let me speak
As thou hast spoken; then, with knowledge, wreak
Thy judgment. I accept it without fear.
Oedipus.
More skill hast thou to speak than I to hear
Thee. There is peril found in thee and hate.
Creon.
That one thing let me answer ere too late.
Oedipus.
One thing be sure of, that thy plots are known.
Creon.
The man who thinks that bitter pride alone
Can guide him, without thought—his mind is sick.
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