[Looking at Œdipus.
Behold the fruit of all my generous care!

My lord—— Away, begone, this moment leave me:
The dreadful gifts ye have bestowed on me
Must have their recompense; and ye have cause
To fear my wrath, for ye preserved my life.

At length the dire prediction is fulfilled,
And Œdipus is now, though innocent,
A base, incestuous parricide: O virtue!
Thou fatal empty name; thou who didst guide
My hapless days, thou hadst not power to stop
The current of my fate: alas! I fell
Into the snare by trying to avoid it:
Heaven led me on to guilt, and sunk a pit
Beneath my sliding feet: I was the slave
Of some unknown, some unrelenting power,