Page:Works of Voltaire Volume 16.djvu/212

190 Reserve thy tears for something still more dreadful; Now list and tremble: fearful of myself, Lest I should e'er fulfil the dire prediction, Or oppose heaven, I left my native land, Broke from the arms of a distracted mother, Wandered from place to place, disguised my birth, My family, and name, by one kind friend Attended; yet, in my disastrous journey, The God who guided my sad footsteps oft Strengthened my arm, and crowned me with success: But happier had it been for Œdipus, If he had fallen with glory in the field, And by his death prevented all his woes: I was reserved to be a parricide: The hand of heaven, so long suspended o'er me, Hath from my eyes at length removed the veil Of Ignorance, and now I see it all: I do remember, in the fields of Phocis (Nor know I how I could so long forget The great event) that in a narrow way I met two warriors in a splendid car: The path was strait, and we disputed it: An idle contest for us both; but I Was young and haughty, from my earliest years Bred up to pride that flowed in with my blood; An unknown stranger in a foreign land, I thought myself upon my father's throne, And whomso'er I chanced to meet, esteemed As my own vassals, born but to obey me: I rushed upon them, and with furious arm Their rapid coursers stopped in full career; Hurled from their chariot the intrepid pair, Forward advanced in rage, and both attacked me: