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Show e Nature's worft Vermine fcare her God-like Sons Ecchoes, the very leavings of a Voice Grow babling Ghofts, and call us to our Gr ves Each Mole-hill thought fwells to a huge Olympus While we fantaftick dreamers heave and puff Andfweat with an Imagination's weight As ify like Atla..r, with thefe morta [Creon comes formard | Thoufeem'® affrighted at fome dreadful Action Thy breath c hd i ' : ligehat mes fhort, thy darted eyes are fix On me for aid, as if thou wert purfud I fent thee to the Thebans, fpeak thy wonder Fear not, this Palace is a San@tuary The King himfclf's thy Guard Cre. For me, alas My life's not worth a thought, when weigh'd with yours But fly, my Lord, fly as your life is facred Your Fateis precious to your faithful Creon Who therefore, on his knees, thus proftrate beg You would remove from Zhebes that vows your ruine L me f ' When [ but offer'd at your innocence They gather'd Stones, and menac'd me with death And drove me through the Streets with imprecation | Againft your Sacred Perfon, and thofe Traytor Which juftify'd your Guilt: which curs'd irefia Told, asfrom Heav'n, was caufe of their deftruction Ocd. Rife, worthy Creon, hafte and take our Guard Rank 'em in equal partupon the Square Then open every Gate of this our Palace And let the Torrent in. Hark, it B Lhear'em roar: begon and break down al The dams that would oppofe their furious paflage B LEx. Creon L fn Shoulder We could fuftain the burden of the World, _ Cre. O, Sacred Sir, My Royal Lor- Oed. W hat now ow fi cel 3 g0 when we think Fate hovers 6re ou Qur apprehenfions fhoot beyond all bo Owls, Ravens, Crickets fcem th watch of death » ‘ OEDIPY [ Shont with Guards Enter Adraltus, bis Sword drawn 'k _ ddr. Your Cit Isall in Arms, all bent to your deffruction' (yut ¢ Lheard but now, where I was clofe confin'd o A Thundring fhout, which méd'e my Jaylors vanifh ‘ |