[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.