Page:Works of Voltaire Volume 16.djvu/180

158 Of me his death: sore pressed on every side, I knew not how to pardon or condemn, But to a neighboring castle I conveyed him, And hid the guiltless victim from their rage. There four long winters hath the poor old man, To future favorites a sad example, Without a murmur or complaint remained, And hopes from innocence alone release.

It is enough, Jocaste. Fly, begone, Open the prison, bring him hither straight, We will examine him before you all; Laius and Thebes shall be avenged together: Yes, we will hear and judge, will sound the depth Of this strange mystery. Ye gods of Thebes, Who hear our prayers, and know the murderer, now Reveal, and punish; and thou, Sun, withhold From his dark eyes thy blessed light! proscribed, Abandoned, let him wander o'er the earth A wretched miscreant, by his sons abhorred, And to his mother horrible! deprived Of burial, let his body be the prey Of hungry vultures!

In these execrations We all unite.

Gods! let the guilty suffer, And they alone! or if the high decrees Of your eternal justice leave to me His punishment, at least indulgent grant, Where you command, the power to obey;