Who, by his fatal charms, subdued my reason,
And poured love's sweetest poison o'er my heart:
Friendship sincere was all I could bestow
On Œdipus, for much I prized his virtue;
And pleased, beheld him mount the throne of Thebes
Which he had saved; but, whilst I followed him,
Even at the altar, my affrighted soul,
Wherefore I knew not, was most strangely moved,
And I retired with horror to his arms.
To this a dreadful omen did succeed:
Methought, Ægina, in the dead of night,
I saw the gulf of hell yawn wide before me;
When lo! the spirit of my murdered lord,
Bloody and pale, with threatening aspect stood,
And pointed to my son; that son, Ægina,
Which I to Laius bore, and to the gods
Offered, a cruel pious sacrifice.
They beckoned me to follow them, and seemed
To drag me with them to the horrid gloom
Of Tartarus: my troubled soul long kept
The sad idea, and must keep it ever.
Now Philoctetes doubles every woe.

Do not avoid me, do not fly, Jocaste,
From Philoctetes; turn, and look upon me: