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Show J* 93 O E D I P V S. D o w n , to thy primitive Flames. Creon. Help, Soldiers, help: [Stabs Crcon, Revenge mc. sAdr. More -, yet more : a thoufand wounds! I'll flamp thec ftill , thus , to the gaping Furies. [Adraftus fais , kiU'd by the Soldiers. Enter Hacmon , Guards , with Alcander , and Pyracmon bound : the <Af]ajJins are driven off. O Hxmon , I am flain -, nor need I name The inhumane Author of all Villanies? Thefe he lies gafping. Creon. If I muft plunge in Flames , Burn firft m y Arm -, bate Inflrument, unfit T o Act the dictates of m y daring Mind : Burn , burn for ever, O weak fubftitutc O f that, the G o d , Ambition. [Dies. tAdr. She's gone; O deadly Marks-man , in the Heart 1 Yet in the pangs of Death fhe grafps m y Hand: Her Lips too tremble, as if ihe would fpeak Her laft farewel. O , Oedipus, thy fall Is great; and nobly now thou goeit attended ! They talk of Heroes, and Ccleftial Beauties, And wondrous pleafures in the other World; Let m e but find her there , I ask no more. [Dies. Enter a Captain to Harmon, withThzCizs and Manto. Cap. O, Sir, the Queen Jocafta, fwift and wild, As a robb'd Tygrefs bounding o'er the Woods, Has V 0 ED I PV S. 99 Has acted Murders that amaze Mankind: In twilled Gold I faw her Daughters hang O n the Bed Royal; and her little Sons Stabb'd through the Bftafts upon the bloody Pillows. Hxm. Relentlels Heav'ns.' is then the Fate of Lajus Never to be Aton'd ? H o w facred ought Kings Lives be held , when but the Death of one Demands an Empire's Blood for Expiation? But fee! the furious mad Jocafta's here [Scene draws » and difcovers Jocafta held by her Women, aid ft^bb'd in many places of her Bofom , her Hair difbcvl'd, her Children flain upon the Bed. W a s ever fuch a fi^ht of fo much horror, And pity , brought to view ! Joe. A h , cruel W o m e n / Will you not let m e take m y laft farewel O f thofe dear Babes? O let m e run and feal M y melting Soul upon their bublmg Wounds I I'll print upon their Coral Mouths fuch kiflcs, As ihall recall their wandring Spirits home. Let m e go , let m c go, or 1 will tear you piccc-meal. Help, Hxmon, help: Help , Oedipus ; help, Gods -, Jocafta dies. Enter Oedipus above. Oed. I've found a Window , and I thank the Gods, 'Tis quite unbarr'd: fure by the diftant noife, The height will fit m y fatal purpole well. Joe. What hoa , m y Oedipiu -, fee where he flands! His groping Ghoft is lodg'd upon a Tow'r , Nor can it find the Road: Mount, mount m y Sou!; I'll wrap thy thivering Spirit in Lambent Flames.1 And fo we'll fail: G i But |