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Attend, ye people, And know, a milder sun now beams upon you: At length the baleful pestilence is fled, The graves once more are closed, and death hath left us; The God of heaven and earth declares his goodness In peals of thunder: hark!

What dreadful flashes! Where am I? heaven! what do I hear! Barbarians—

'Tis done: the gods are satisfied: no more Doth Laius from the tomb cry out for vengeance: Jocaste, thou mayest live and reign; the blood Of Œdipus sufficeth.

Gracious heaven!

My son! and must I call him husband too! Dear dreadful names! is he then dead?

He lives, But from the living and the dead cut off, Deprived of light: I saw him plunge this sword,