[Pointing to the Stranger.

Look! Hath he ever crossed thy path before?

Shepherd.

I call him not to mind, I must think more.

Stranger.

Small wonder that, O King! But I will throw

Light on his memories.—Right well I know

He knows the time when, all Kithairon through,

I with one wandering herd and he with two,

Three times we neighboured one another, clear

From spring to autumn stars, a good half-year.

At winter’s fall we parted; he drove down

To his master’s fold, and I back to mine own. …

Dost call it back, friend? Was it as I say?

Shepherd.

It was. It was. … ’Tis all so far away.

Stranger.

Say then: thou gavest me once, there in the wild,

A babe to rear far off as mine own child?

Shepherd.

[His terror returning.

What does this mean? To what end askest thou?

Stranger.

[Pointing to Oedipus.

That babe has grown, friend. ’Tis our master now.

Shepherd.

[He slowly understands, then stands for a moment horror-struck.

No, in the name of death! … Fool, hold thy peace.

[He lifts his staff at the Stranger.

Oedipus.

Ha, greybeard! Wouldst thou strike him?—’Tis not his

Offences, ’tis thine own we need to mend.

Shepherd.

Most gentle master, how do I offend?

Oedipus.

Whence came that babe whereof he questioneth?

Shepherd.

He doth not know … ’tis folly … what he saith.

Oedipus.

Thou wilt not speak for love; but pain maybe …

Shepherd.

I am very old. Ye would not torture me.

Oedipus.

Back with his arms, ye bondmen! Hold him so.

[The thralls drag back the Shepherd’s arms, ready for torture.

Shepherd.

Woe’s me! What have I done? … What wouldst thou know?

Oedipus.

Didst give this man the child, as he doth say?

Shepherd.

I did. … Would God that I had died this day!

Oedipus.

’Fore heaven, thou shalt yet, if thou speak not true.

Shepherd.

’Tis more than death and darker, if I do.

Oedipus.

This dog, it seems, will keep us waiting.