3 Cit. Ha, if we were but worthy to see another coronation! and then, if we must die, we’ll go merrily together.

All. To the question, to the question.

Dioc. Are you content, Creon should be your king?

All A Creon, A Creon, A Creon!

Tir. Hear me, ye Thebans, and thou Creon, hear me.

1 Cit. Who’s that would be heard? we’ll hear no man; we can scarce hear one another.

Tir. I charge you, by the gods, to hear me.

2 Cit. Oh, it is Apollo’s priest, we must hear him; it is the old blind prophet, that sees all things.

3 Cit. He comes from the gods too, and they are our betters; and, in good manners, we must hear him:—­Speak, prophet.

2 Cit. For coming from the gods, that’s no great matter, they can all say that:  but he is a great scholar; he can make almanacks, an’ he were put to it; and therefore I say, hear him.

Tir. When angry heaven scatters its plagues among you, Is it for nought, ye Thebans? are the gods Unjust in punishing? are there no crimes, Which pull this vengeance down?

1 Cit. Yes, yes; no doubt there are some sins stirring, that are the cause of all.

3 Cit. Yes, there are sins, or we should have no taxes.

2 Cit. For my part, I can speak it with a safe conscience, I never sinned in all my life.

1 Cit. Nor I.

3 Cit. Nor I.

2 Cit. Then we are all justified; the sin lies not at our doors.

Tir. All justified alike, and yet all guilty! 
Were every man’s false dealing brought to light,
His envy, malice, lying, perjuries,
His weights and measures, the other man’s extortions,
With what face could you tell offended heaven,
You had not sinned?

2 Cit. Nay, if these be sins, the case is altered; for my part, I never thought any thing but murder had been a sin.

Tir. And yet, as if all these were less than nothing,
You add rebellion to them, impious Thebans! 
Have you not sworn before the gods to serve
And to obey this OEdipus, your king
By public voice elected? answer me,
If this be true!

2 Cit. This is true; but its a hard world, neighbours, If a man’s oath must be his master.

Cre. Speak, Diocles; all goes wrong.

Dioc. How are you traitors, countrymen of Thebes? 
This holy sire, who presses you with oaths,
Forgets your first; were you not sworn before
To Laius and his blood?

All. We were; we were.

Dioc. While Laius has a lawful successor,
Your first oath still must bind:  Eurydice
Is heir to Laius; let her marry Creon. 
Offended heaven will never be appeased,
While OEdipus pollutes the throne of Laius,
A stranger to his blood.