Shep. To make away with it.
Œdip. And dared a mother . . . ?
Shep. Auguries dark she feared.
Œdip. What were they?
Shep. E'en that he his sire should kill.
Œdip. Why then did'st thou to this old man resign him?
Shep. I pitied him, Ο master, and I thought
That he would bear him to another land,
Whence he himself had come. But him he saved
For direst evil. For if thou be he 1180
Whom this man speaks of, thou art evil-starred.
Œdip. Woe! woe! woe! woe! all cometh clear at last.
Ο light, may this my last glance be on thee,
Who now am seen owing my birth to those
To whom I ought not, and with whom I ought not
In wedlock living, whom I ought not slaying.
Stroph. I.
Chorus. Ah, race of mortal men,
How as a thing of nought
I count ye, though ye live;
For who is there of men
That more of blessing knows, 1190
Than just a little while
To seem to prosper well,
And, having seemed, to fall?
With thee as pattern given,
Thy destiny, e'en thine,
Ill-fated Œdipus,
I count nought human blest.
antistroph. I.
For he, with wondrous skill,
