Page:Works of Voltaire Volume 16.djvu/178

156 In fearful accents, terrible to hear: "The death of Laius is still unrevenged, The murderer lives in Thebes, and doth infect The wholesome air with his malignant breath; He must be known, he must be punished, And on his fate depends the people's safety."

Justly ye suffer, Thebans, for this crime; Laius was once your loved and honored king, And your neglect hath from his manes drawn This vengeance on you. Such is oft the fate Of the best sovereigns; whilst they live, respect Waits on their laws, their justice is admired, And they like gods are served, like gods adored; But after death they sink into oblivion. No longer then your flattering incense burns: The servile mind of wretched man still bends To interest; and when virtue is departed, 'Tis soon forgotten: therefore doth the blood Of murdered Laius now cry out against you, And sues for vengeance to offended heaven. To sprinkle on his tomb the murderer's blood Will better far than slaughtered hecatombs Appease his spirit: be it all our care To seek the guilty wretch. Can none remember Aught touching this sad deed? Amidst your signs And wonders, could no footsteps e'er be traced Of this unpunished crime? They always told me It was a Theban, who against his prince Uplifted his rebellious hand. For me Who from thy hands received the crown, two years After the death of Laius did I mount The throne of Thebes, and never since that hour Would I recall the subject of thy tears, But in respectful silence waited still;