Oedipus
To him how can I speak ? from him what grace
With justice can I hope? for he before
Found me injurious, and in all things vile.
I come not to insult thee, Edipus,
Nor to reproach thee for thy former wrongs.
But you, respecting mortals if you feel
No touch of shame, revere th' all-feeding flame
Of yon imperial sun; nor thus expose
Unveil'd such dire pollution, which nor earth,
Nor sacred water, nor heav'n's light receives.
But quickly bear him hence, beneath this roof
Conceal'd; for piety demands that those
By blood allied alone should see, should hear
The ills of those from the same blood derived.
Oedipus Tyrannus. Sophocles. Robert Potter (Translator). London. 1820.