ÆGINA.
How could you venture
The dangerous trial of a second marriage?
JOCASTE.
Alas!
ÆGINA.
Will you forgive me? shall I speak?
JOCASTE.
Thou mayest.
ÆGINA.
The king, the conqueror subdued thee:
You gave your hand as a reward to him
Who saved your country.
JOCASTE.
Gracious gods!
ÆGINA.
Was he
Happier than Laius? Was your Philoctetes
Forgotten then, or did they share your heart?
JOCASTE.
Thebes, by a cruel monster then laid waste,
Had promised its deliverer my hand;
The conqueror of the sphinx was worthy of me.
ÆGINA.
You loved him then?
JOCASTE.
I felt some tenderness
For Œdipus; but O! 'twas far from love:
'Twas not, Ægina, that tumultuous passion,
The impetuous offspring of my ravished senses,
Not the fierce flame that burned for Philoctetes;
