OEdip. I’ll have no more to do with gods, nor men;
Hence, from my arms, avaunt.  Enjoy thy mother! 
What, violate, with bestial appetite,
The sacred veils that wrapt thee yet unborn! 
This is not to be borne!  Hence; off, I say! 
For they, who let my vengeance, make themselves
Accomplices in my most horrid guilt.

Adr. Let it be so; we’ll fence heav’n’s fury from you,
And suffer all together.  This, perhaps,
When ruin comes, may help to break your fall.

OEdip. O that, as oft I have at Athens seen
The stage arise, and the big clouds descend;
So now, in very deed I might behold
The pond’rous earth, and all yon marble roof
Meet, like the hand of Jove, and crush mankind! 
For all the elements, and all the powers
Celestial, nay, terrestrial, and infernal,
Conspire the wreck of out-cast OEdipus! 
Fall darkness then, and everlasting night
Shadow the globe; may the sun never dawn;
The silver moon be blotted from her orb;
And for an universal rout of nature
Through all the inmost chambers of the sky,
May there not be a glimpse, one starry spark,
But gods meet gods, and jostle in the dark;
That jars may rise, and wrath divine be hurled,
Which may to atoms shake the solid world! [Exeunt.

ACT V.—­SCENE I.

  Enter CREON, ALCANDER, and PYRACMON.

Creon. Thebes is at length my own; and all my wishes,
Which sure were great as royalty e’er formed,
Fortune and my auspicious stars have crowned. 
O diadem, thou centre of ambition,
Where all its different lines are reconciled,
As if thou wert the burning glass of glory!

Pyr. Might I be counsellor, I would intreat you
To cool a little, sir; find out Eurydice;
And, with the resolution of a man
Marked out for greatness, give the fatal choice
Of death or marriage.

Alc. Survey cursed OEdipus,
As one who, though unfortunate, beloved,
Thought innocent, and therefore much lamented
By all the Thebans:  you must mark him dead,
Since nothing but his death, not banishment,
Can give assurance to your doubtful reign.

Cre. Well have you done, to snatch me from the storm
Of racking transport, where the little streams
Of love, revenge, and all the under passions,
As waters are by sucking whirlpools drawn,
Were quite devoured in the vast gulph of empire. 
Therefore, Pyracmon, as you boldly urged,
Eurydice shall die, or be my bride. 
Alcander, summon to their master’s aid
My menial servants, and all those whom change
Of state, and hope of the new monarch’s favour,
Can win to take our part:  Away.—­What now? [Exit ALCANDER.

  Enter HAEMON.

When Haemon weeps, without the help of ghosts
I may foretel there is a fatal cause.