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Show *)6 O E D I P V S. tJdr. Stay thee , damn'd wretch; hold, flop thy bloody hand. Creon. Give order then, that onthisinitantnow, This moment , all thy Soldiers ftraight disband. *Adr. Away m y Friends, fince Fate has lo allotted ,- Begone , and leave m c to the Villain's Mercy. Eur. A h , m y ^Adraftus! Call 'em , call 'em back J Stand there ; come back ! O cruel barbarous Men I Could you then leave your Lord , your Prince , your King , After fo bravely having fought his Caufe , T o perifh by the hand of this bale Villain ? W h y rather rufh you not at once together All to his ruinc ? Drag him through the Streets Han° his contagious Quarters on the Gates ? Nor&let m y Death affright you. Creon. Die firft rhy felt then. tAdr. O , I charge thec, hold. Hence , from m y Prefence all : he's not m y Friend That difobeys : See, art thou now appeas'd ? [Ex. ^Attendants, O r is there ought elfe yet remains to do That can attone thee ? Slake thy thirft of Blood With mine: but fave, O fave that innocent wretch. Creon. Forego thy Sword , and yield thy felf m y Prifoner. Eur. Yet while there's any dawn of hope to lave Thy precious Life , m y dear ^Adraftus, Whate'er thou doft , deliver not thy Sword, With that thou may'ft get off, tho' odds op-pofe thec : For m e , O , fear not; no, he dares not touch me> His horrid love will fpare me. Keep thy Sword* Left I be ravifh'd after rhou art flam. \Adr. Inftruct m e , Gods! What fhall ^drafim do > Creon. D o what thou wilt, when me is dead: m y Soldiers . ^ V OE D IP US. 97 \Vith numbers will o'cr-pow'r thee. Is't thy wifh Eurydice fhould fall before thee ? cAdr. Traitor, no :^ Better , that thou and \, and all Mankind Should be no more. Creow. Then cait thy Sword away, And yield thee to m y Mercy, or I ftrike. c^dr. Hold thy rais'd A r m j give m e a moments p2ufe. M y Father , when he bleft m e , gave m e this: M y Son, faid he, let this be thy laft refuge j If thou forget'ft it, Milery attends thee : Yet Love now charms rhat from m e , which in all The hazards of m y Life I never loft. 'Tis thme , m y faithfull Sword, m y only Trnft; Tho' m y Heart tells m e that the Gift is fatal. Creon. Fatal! Yes, foolifh Love-tick Prince, it fhall; Thy Arrogance , thy Scorn , M y wounds remembrance, Turn all at once the fatal point upon thec. Pyracmon to the Palace ftraight , difpatch The King : hang Hxmon up, for he is Loyal, And will oppofe m e : C o m e , Sir, are you ready ? cAdr. Yes , Villain , for whatever thou canit dare. Eur. Hold Creon , or rhrough m e , through m e you wound. zAdr. Off, M a d a m , or w c perifh both ; behold I'm not unarm'd , m y Ponyard's in m y hand : Therefore away. Eur. I'll guard your Life with mine. Creon. Die both then ; there is n o w no time for dallying [i\rils Eurydice. Eur. Ah , Prince, farewel I Farewel, m y dear A'draftus. [ Dies. rAdr. Unheard of Monfler / Eldeft born of Hell 1 G Down > |