Oedipus.
In God’s name, since thou hast undone the fear
Within me, coming thus, all nobleness,
To one so vile, grant me one only grace.
For thy sake more I crave it than mine own.
Creon.
Let me first hear what grace thou wouldst be shown.
Oedipus.
Cast me from Thebes . . . now, quick . . . where none may see
My visage more, nor mingle words with me.
Creon.
That had I done, for sure, save that I still
Tremble, and fain would ask Apollo’s will.
Oedipus.
His will was clear enough, to stamp the unclean
Thing out, the bloody hand, the heart of sin.
Creon.
’Twas thus he seemed to speak; but in this sore
Strait we must needs learn surer than before.
Oedipus.
Thou needs must trouble God for one so low?
Creon.
Surely; thyself will trust his answer now.
Oedipus.
I charge thee more . . . and, if thou fail, my sin
Shall cleave to thee. . . . For her who lies within,
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