To send him to the mountain heights, to be
A herdsman, far from any sight or call
Of Thebes. And there I sent him. ’Twas a thrall
Good-hearted, worthy a far greater boon.
Oedipus.
Canst find him? I would see this herd, and soon.
Jocasta.
’Tis easy. But what wouldst thou with the herd?
Oedipus.
I fear mine own voice, lest it spoke a word
Too much; whereof this man must tell me true.
Jocasta.
The man shall come.—My lord, methinks I too
Should know what fear doth work thee this despite.
Oedipus.
Thou shalt. When I am tossed to such an height
Of dark foreboding, woman, when my mind
Faceth such straits as these, where should I find
A mightier love than thine?
My father—thus
I tell thee the whole tale—was Polybus,
In Corinth King; my mother Meropê
Of Dorian line. And I was held to be
The proudest in Corinthia, till one day
A thing befell: strange was it, but no way
Meet for such wonder and such rage as mine.
A feast it was, and some one flushed with wine
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