Oed. Disloyal and ungrateful! to deprive
The state that reared thee of thine utterance now.
Ti. Thy speech, I see, is foiling thine intent;
And I would shield me from the like mishap. (Going.)
Oed. Nay, if thou knowest, turn thee not away:
All here with suppliant hands importune thee.
Ti. Yea, for ye all are blind. Never will I
Reveal my woe;—mine, that I say not, thine.
Oed. So, then, thou hast the knowledge of the crime
And wilt not tell, but rather wouldst betray
This people, and destroy thy fatherland!
Ti. You press me to no purpose. I’ll not pain
Thee, nor myself. Thou wilt hear nought from me.
Oed. How? Miscreant! Thy stubbornness would rouse
Wrath in a breast of stone. Wilt thou yet hold
That silent, hard, impenetrable mien?
Ti. You censure me for my harsh mood. Your own
Dwells unsuspected with you. Me you blame!
Oed. Who can be mild and gentle, when thou speakest
Such words to mock this people?
Ti. It will come:
Although I bury it in silence here.
Oed. Must not the King be told of what will come?
Ti. No word from me. At this, an if thou wilt,
Rage to the height of passionate vehemence.
Oed. Ay, and my passion shall declare my thought.
’Tis clear to me as daylight, thou hast been
The arch-plotter of this deed; yea, thou hast done
All but the actual blow. Hadst thou thy sight,
I had proclaimed thee the sole murderer.
Ti. Ay, say’st thou so?—I charge thee to abide
By thine own ordinance; and from this hour
Speak not to any Theban nor to me.
Thou art the vile polluter of the land.
Oed. O void of shame! What wickedness is this?
What power will give thee refuge for such guilt?
Ti. The might of truth is scatheless. I am free.
