This is a Project Gutenberg Etext of Sophocles' Oedipus Trilogy.
The Oedipus Trilogy by Sophocles is being released as one file--
thus minimizing directory entries, commands required to get this
trilogy, and testing a policy of releasing collections as single
files, rather than individual files, much as we released a Bible
this week in honor of Easter, and may release the complete works
of Shakespeare as a single file. If we don't do this, we should
have some major directory problems. If we get enough requests--
we will open a separate directory for each edition of the Bible,
Shakespeare, and similar collections, and put each separate book
there by name for those who would prefer to get just one of this
collection, just one book of the Bible, the Book of Mormon, etc.
However, the number of requests will have to be large as you may
well imagine the amount of work and space required.
Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, uscen901.txt.
VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, uscen90a.txt.
Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)
We produce about one million dollars for each hour we work. One
hundred hours is a conservative estimate for how long it we take
to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, etc. Our
projected audience is one hundred million readers. If our value
per text is nominally estimated at one dollar, then we produce a
million dollars per hour; next year we will have to do four text
files per month, thus upping our productivity to two million/hr.
The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext
Files by the December 31, 2001. [10,000 x 100,000,000=Trillion]
This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers.
We need your donations more than ever!
All donations should be made to "Project Gutenberg/IBC", and are
tax deductible to the extent allowable by law ("IBC" is Illinois
Benedictine College). (Subscriptions to our paper newsletter go
to IBC, too)
Send to:
David Turner, Project Gutenberg
Illinois Benedictine College
5700 College Road
Lisle, IL 60532-0900
All communication to Project Gutenberg should be carried out via
Illinois Benedictine College unless via email. This is for help
in keeping me from being swept under by paper mail as follows:
1. Too many people say they are including SASLE's and aren't.
2. Paper communication just takes too long when compared to the
thousands of lines of email I receive every day. Even then,
I can't communicate with people who take too long to respond
as I just can't keep their trains of thought alive for those
extended periods of time. Even quick responses should reply
with the text of the messages they are answering (reply text
option in RiceMail). This is more difficult with paper.
3. People request disks without specifying which kind of disks,
it can be very difficult to read an Apple disk on an IBM. I
have also received too many disks that cannot be formatted.
My apologies.
We would strongly prefer to send you this information by email
(Internet, Bitnet, Compuserve, ATTMAIL or MCImail).
Email requests to:
hart@vmd.cso.uiuc.edu (Internet)
hart@uiucvmd (Bitnet)
>internet:hart@vmd.cso.uiuc.edu (Compuserve)
internet!vmd.cso.uiuc.edu!HART (Attmail)
xxxx (MCImail)
******
If you have an FTP program (or emulator), please:
FTP directly to the Project Gutenberg archives:
ftp mrcnext.cso.uiuc.edu
login: anonymous
password: your@login
cd etext/etext91
or cd etext92 [for new books]
or cd etext/articles [get suggest gut for more information]
dir [to see files]
get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files]
GET INDEX
for a list of books
and
GET NEW GUT for general information
and
MGET GUT* for newsletters.
**Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor**
(Three Pages)
****START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START****
Why is this "small print" statement here? You know: lawyers.
They tell us that we could get sued if there is something wrong
with your copy of this etext, even if what's wrong is not our
fault, and even if you got it for free and from someone other
than us. So, among other things, this "small print" statement
disclaims most of the liability we could have to you if some-
thing is wrong with your copy.
This "small print" statement also tells you how to distribute
copies of this etext if you want to. As explained in greater
detail below, if you distribute such copies you may be required
to pay us if you distribute using our trademark, and if we get
sued in connection with your distribution.
*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT
By using or reading any part of the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext
that follows this statement, you indicate that you agree to and
accept the following terms, conditions and disclaimers. If you
do not understand them, or do not agree to and accept them, then
[1] you may not read or use the etext, and [2] you will receive
a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it on request within
30 days of receiving it. If you received this etext on a
physical medium (such as a disk), you must return the physical
medium with your request and retain no copies of it.
ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS
This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
etexts, is a "Public Domain" work distributed by Professor
Michael S. Hart through the Project Gutenberg Association (the
"Project"). Among other things, this means that no one owns a
United States copyright on or for this work, so the Project (and
you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
permission and without paying royalties. Special rules, set
forth below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext
under the Project's "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.
To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable efforts
to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain works.
Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any medium they
may be on may contain errors and defects (collectively, the
"Defects"). Among other things, such Defects may take the form
of incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription errors,
unauthorized distribution of a work that is not in the public
domain, a defective or damaged disk or other etext medium, a
computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read
by your equipment.
DISCLAIMER
As to every real and alleged Defect in this etext and any medium
it may be on, and but for the "Right of Replacement or Refund"
described below, [1] the Project (and any other party you may
receive this etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) dis-
claims all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses,
including legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLI-
GENCE OR UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR
CONTRACT, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL,
PUNITIVE OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE
POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES.
RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND
If you received this etext in a physical medium, and the medium
was physically damaged when you received it, you may return it
within 90 days of receiving it to the person from whom you
received it with a note explaining such Defects. Such person
will give you, in his or its discretion, a replacement copy of
the etext or a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it.
If you received it electronically and it is incomplete, inaccu-
rate or corrupt, you may send notice within 90 days of receiving
it to the person from whom you received it describing such
Defects. Such person will give you, in his or its discretion, a
second opportunity to receive it electronically, or a refund of
the money (if any) you paid to receive it.
Aside from this limited warranty, THIS ETEXT IS PROVIDED TO YOU
"AS-IS". NO OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED,
ARE MADE TO YOU AS TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON,
INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR
FITNESS FOR A PARTICULAR PURPOSE.
Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or
the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the
above disclaimers, exclusions and limitations may not apply to
you. This "small print" statement gives you specific legal
rights, and you may also have other rights.
IF YOU DISTRIBUTE THIS ETEXT
You agree that if you distribute this etext or a copy of it to
anyone, you will indemnify and hold the Project, its officers,
members and agents harmless from all liability, cost and ex-
pense, including legal fees, that arise by reason of your
distribution and either a Defect in the etext, or any alter-
ation, modification or addition to the etext by you or for which
you are responsible. This provision applies to every distribu-
tion of this etext by you, whether or not for profit or under
the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.
DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm"
You agree that if you distribute one or more copies of this
etext under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark (whether electron-
ically, or by disk, book or any other medium), you will:
[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this re-
quires that you do not remove, alter or modify the etext or
this "small print!" statement. You may however, if you
wish, distribute this etext in machine readable binary,
compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, including any
form resulting from conversion by word processing or hyper-
text software, but only so long as *EITHER*:
[*] The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable. We
consider an etext *not* clearly readable if it
contains characters other than those intended by the
author of the work, although tilde (~), asterisk (*)
and underline (_) characters may be used to convey
punctuation intended by the author, and additional
characters may be used to indicate hypertext links.
[*] The etext may be readily converted by the reader at no
expense into in plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent form
by the program that displays the etext (as is the
case, for instance, with most word processors).
[*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at no
additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the etext
in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC or
other equivalent proprietary form).
[2] Honor the terms and conditions applicable to distributors
under the "RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND" set forth above.
[3] Pay a trademark license fee of 20% (twenty percent) of the
net profits you derive from distributing this etext under
the trademark, determined in accordance with generally
accepted accounting practices. The license fee:
[*] Is required only if you derive such profits. In
distributing under our trademark, you incur no
obligation to charge money or earn profits for your
distribution.
[*] Shall be paid to "Project Gutenberg Association /
Illinois Benedictine College" (or to such other person
as the Project Gutenberg Association may direct)
within the 60 days following each date you prepare (or
were legally required to prepare) your year-end
federal income tax return with respect to your profits
for that year.
WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO?
The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time,
scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty
free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution
you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg
Association / Illinois Benedictine College".
Drafted by CHARLES B. KRAMER, Attorney
CompuServe: 72600,2026
Internet: 72600.2026@compuserve.com
Tel: (212) 254-5093
*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.03.08.92*END*
**This is the Project Gutenberg Etext of Sophocles' Oedipus Rex**
This file should be named oedrx10.txt or oedrx10.zip if separate.
*It should include the header from the top including small print*
SOPHOCLES
OEDIPUS THE KING
Translation by F. Storr, BA
Formerly Scholar of Trinity College, Cambridge
From the Loeb Library Edition
Originally published by
Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA
and
William Heinemann Ltd, London
First published in 1912
----------------------------------------------------------------------
ARGUMENT
To Laius, King of Thebes, an oracle foretold that the child born
to him by his queen Jocasta would slay his father and wed his mother.
So when in time a son was born the infant's feet were riveted together
and he was left to die on Mount Cithaeron. But a shepherd found the
babe and tended him, and delivered him to another shepherd who took
him to his master, the King or Corinth. Polybus being childless
adopted the boy, who grew up believing that he was indeed the King's
son. Afterwards doubting his parentage he inquired of the Delphic god
and heard himself the weird declared before to Laius. Wherefore he
fled from what he deemed his father's house and in his flight he
encountered and unwillingly slew his father Laius. Arriving at Thebes
he answered the riddle of the Sphinx and the grateful Thebans made
their deliverer king. So he reigned in the room of Laius, and
espoused the widowed queen. Children were born to them and Thebes
prospered under his rule, but again a grievous plague fell upon the
city. Again the oracle was consulted and it bade them purge
themselves of blood-guiltiness. Oedipus denounces the crime of which
he is unaware, and undertakes to track out the criminal. Step by
step it is brought home to him that he is the man. The closing scene
reveals Jocasta slain by her own hand and Oedipus blinded by his own
act and praying for death or exile.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
Oedipus.
The Priest of Zeus.
Creon.
Chorus of Theban Elders.
Teiresias.
Jocasta.
Messenger.
Herd of Laius.
Second Messenger.
Scene: Thebes. Before the Palace of Oedipus.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
OEDIPUS THE KING
Suppliants of all ages are seated round the altar at the palace doors,
at their head a PRIEST OF ZEUS. To them enter OEDIPUS.
OEDIPUS
My children, latest born to Cadmus old,
Why sit ye here as suppliants, in your hands
Branches of olive filleted with wool?
What means this reek of incense everywhere,
And everywhere laments and litanies?
Children, it were not meet that I should learn
From others, and am hither come, myself,
I Oedipus, your world-renowned king.
Ho! aged sire, whose venerable locks
Proclaim thee spokesman of this company,
Explain your mood and purport. Is it dread
Of ill that moves you or a boon ye crave?
My zeal in your behalf ye cannot doubt;
Ruthless indeed were I and obdurate
If such petitioners as you I spurned.
PRIEST
Yea, Oedipus, my sovereign lord and king,
Thou seest how both extremes of age besiege
Thy palace altars--fledglings hardly winged,
and greybeards bowed with years; priests, as am I
of Zeus, and these the flower of our youth.
Meanwhile, the common folk, with wreathed boughs
Crowd our two market-places, or before
Both shrines of Pallas congregate, or where
Ismenus gives his oracles by fire.
For, as thou seest thyself, our ship of State,
Sore buffeted, can no more lift her head,
Foundered beneath a weltering surge of blood.
A blight is on our harvest in the ear,
A blight upon the grazing flocks and herds,
A blight on wives in travail; and withal
Armed with his blazing torch the God of Plague
Hath swooped upon our city emptying
The house of Cadmus, and the murky realm
Of Pluto is full fed with groans and tears.
Therefore, O King, here at thy hearth we sit,
I and these children; not as deeming thee
A new divinity, but the first of men;
First in the common accidents of life,
And first in visitations of the Gods.
Art thou not he who coming to the town
of Cadmus freed us from the tax we paid
To the fell songstress? Nor hadst thou received
Prompting from us or been by others schooled;
No, by a god inspired (so all men deem,
And testify) didst thou renew our life.
And now, O Oedipus, our peerless king,
All we thy votaries beseech thee, find
Some succor, whether by a voice from heaven
Whispered, or haply known by human wit.
Tried counselors, methinks, are aptest found [1]
To furnish for the future pregnant rede.
Upraise, O chief of men, upraise our State!
Look to thy laurels! for thy zeal of yore
Our country's savior thou art justly hailed:
O never may we thus record thy reign:--
"He raised us up only to cast us down."
Uplift us, build our city on a rock.
Thy happy star ascendant brought us luck,
O let it not decline! If thou wouldst rule
This land, as now thou reignest, better sure
To rule a peopled than a desert realm.
Nor battlements nor galleys aught avail,
If men to man and guards to guard them tail.
OEDIPUS
Ah! my poor children, known, ah, known too well,
The quest that brings you hither and your need.
Ye sicken all, well wot I, yet my pain,
How great soever yours, outtops it all.
Your sorrow touches each man severally,
Him and none other, but I grieve at once
Both for the general and myself and you.
Therefore ye rouse no sluggard from day-dreams.
Many, my children, are the tears I've wept,
And threaded many a maze of weary thought.
Thus pondering one clue of hope I caught,
And tracked it up; I have sent Menoeceus' son,
Creon, my consort's brother, to inquire
Of Pythian Phoebus at his Delphic shrine,
How I might save the State by act or word.
And now I reckon up the tale of days
Since he set forth, and marvel how he fares.
'Tis strange, this endless tarrying, passing strange.
But when he comes, then I were base indeed,
If I perform not all the god declares.
PRIEST
Thy words are well timed; even as thou speakest
That shouting tells me Creon is at hand.
OEDIPUS
O King Apollo! may his joyous looks
Be presage of the joyous news he brings!
PRIEST
As I surmise, 'tis welcome; else his head
Had scarce been crowned with berry-laden bays.
OEDIPUS
We soon shall know; he's now in earshot range.
[Enter CREON]
My royal cousin, say, Menoeceus' child,
What message hast thou brought us from the god?
CREON
Good news, for e'en intolerable ills,
Finding right issue, tend to naught but good.
OEDIPUS
How runs the oracle? thus far thy words
Give me no ground for confidence or fear.
CREON
If thou wouldst hear my message publicly,
I'll tell thee straight, or with thee pass within.
OEDIPUS
Speak before all; the burden that I bear
Is more for these my subjects than myself.
CREON
Let me report then all the god declared.
King Phoebus bids us straitly extirpate
A fell pollution that infests the land,
And no more harbor an inveterate sore.
OEDIPUS
What expiation means he? What's amiss?
CREON
Banishment, or the shedding blood for blood.
This stain of blood makes shipwreck of our state.
OEDIPUS
Whom can he mean, the miscreant thus denounced?
CREON
Before thou didst assume the helm of State,
The sovereign of this land was Laius.
OEDIPUS
I heard as much, but never saw the man.
CREON
He fell; and now the god's command is plain:
Punish his takers-off, whoe'er they be.
OEDIPUS
Where are they? Where in the wide world to find
The far, faint traces of a bygone crime?
CREON
In this land, said the god; "who seeks shall find;
Who sits with folded hands or sleeps is blind."
OEDIPUS
Was he within his palace, or afield,
Or traveling, when Laius met his fate?
CREON
Abroad; he started, so he told us, bound
For Delphi, but he never thence returned.
OEDIPUS
Came there no news, no fellow-traveler
To give some clue that might be followed up?
CREON
But one escape, who flying for dear life,
Could tell of all he saw but one thing sure.
OEDIPUS
And what was that? One clue might lead us far,
With but a spark of hope to guide our quest.
CREON
Robbers, he told us, not one bandit but
A troop of knaves, attacked and murdered him.
OEDIPUS
Did any bandit dare so bold a stroke,
Unless indeed he were suborned from Thebes?
CREON
So 'twas surmised, but none was found to avenge
His murder mid the trouble that ensued.
OEDIPUS
What trouble can have hindered a full quest,
When royalty had fallen thus miserably?
CREON
The riddling Sphinx compelled us to let slide
The dim past and attend to instant needs.
OEDIPUS
Well, _I_ will start afresh and once again
Make dark things clear. Right worthy the concern
Of Phoebus, worthy thine too, for the dead;
I also, as is meet, will lend my aid
To avenge this wrong to Thebes and to the god.
Not for some far-off kinsman, but myself,
Shall I expel this poison in the blood;
For whoso slew that king might have a mind
To strike me too with his assassin hand.
Therefore in righting him I serve myself.
Up, children, haste ye, quit these altar stairs,
Take hence your suppliant wands, go summon hither
The Theban commons. With the god's good help
Success is sure; 'tis ruin if we fail.
[Exeunt OEDIPUS and CREON]
PRIEST
Come, children, let us hence; these gracious words
Forestall the very purpose of our suit.
And may the god who sent this oracle
Save us withal and rid us of this pest.
[Exeunt PRIEST and SUPPLIANTS]
CHORUS
(Str. 1)
Sweet-voiced daughter of Zeus from thy gold-paved Pythian shrine
Wafted to Thebes divine,
What dost thou bring me? My soul is racked and shivers with fear.
(Healer of Delos, hear!)
Hast thou some pain unknown before,
Or with the circling years renewest a penance of yore?
Offspring of golden Hope, thou voice immortal, O tell me.
(Ant. 1)
First on Athene I call; O Zeus-born goddess, defend!
Goddess and sister, befriend,
Artemis, Lady of Thebes, high-throned in the midst of our mart!
Lord of the death-winged dart!
Your threefold aid I crave
From death and ruin our city to save.
If in the days of old when we nigh had perished, ye drave
From our land the fiery plague, be near us now and defend us!
(Str. 2)
Ah me, what countless woes are mine!
All our host is in decline;
Weaponless my spirit lies.
Earth her gracious fruits denies;
Women wail in barren throes;
Life on life downstriken goes,
Swifter than the wind bird's flight,
Swifter than the Fire-God's might,
To the westering shores of Night.
(Ant. 2)
Wasted thus by death on death
All our city perisheth.
Corpses spread infection round;
None to tend or mourn is found.
Wailing on the altar stair
Wives and grandams rend the air--
Long-drawn moans and piercing cries
Blent with prayers and litanies.
Golden child of Zeus, O hear
Let thine angel face appear!
(Str. 3)
And grant that Ares whose hot breath I feel,
Though without targe or steel
He stalks, whose voice is as the battle shout,
May turn in sudden rout,
To the unharbored Thracian waters sped,
Or Amphitrite's bed.
For what night leaves undone,
Smit by the morrow's sun
Perisheth. Father Zeus, whose hand
Doth wield the lightning brand,
Slay him beneath thy levin bold, we pray,
Slay him, O slay!
(Ant. 3)
O that thine arrows too, Lycean King,
From that taut bow's gold string,
Might fly abroad, the champions of our rights;
Yea, and the flashing lights
Of Artemis, wherewith the huntress sweeps
Across the Lycian steeps.
Thee too I call with golden-snooded hair,
Whose name our land doth bear,
Bacchus to whom thy Maenads Evoe shout;
Come with thy bright torch, rout,
Blithe god whom we adore,
The god whom gods abhor.
[Enter OEDIPUS.]
OEDIPUS
Ye pray; 'tis well, but would ye hear my words
And heed them and apply the remedy,
Ye might perchance find comfort and relief.
Mind you, I speak as one who comes a stranger
To this report, no less than to the crime;
For how unaided could I track it far
Without a clue? Which lacking (for too late
Was I enrolled a citizen of Thebes)
This proclamation I address to all:--
Thebans, if any knows the man by whom
Laius, son of Labdacus, was slain,
I summon him to make clean shrift to me.
And if he shrinks, let him reflect that thus
Confessing he shall 'scape the capital charge;
For the worst penalty that shall befall him
Is banishment--unscathed he shall depart.
But if an alien from a foreign land
Be known to any as the murderer,
Let him who knows speak out, and he shall have
Due recompense from me and thanks to boot.
But if ye still keep silence, if through fear
For self or friends ye disregard my hest,
Hear what I then resolve; I lay my ban
On the assassin whosoe'er he be.
Let no man in this land, whereof I hold
The sovereign rule, harbor or speak to him;
Give him no part in prayer or sacrifice
Or lustral rites, but hound him from your homes.
For this is our defilement, so the god
Hath lately shown to me by oracles.
Thus as their champion I maintain the cause
Both of the god and of the murdered King.
And on the murderer this curse I lay
(On him and all the partners in his guilt):--
Wretch, may he pine in utter wretchedness!
And for myself, if with my privity
He gain admittance to my hearth, I pray
The curse I laid on others fall on me.
See that ye give effect to all my hest,
For my sake and the god's and for our land,
A desert blasted by the wrath of heaven.
For, let alone the god's express command,
It were a scandal ye should leave unpurged
The murder of a great man and your king,
Nor track it home. And now that I am lord,
Successor to his throne, his bed, his wife,
(And had he not been frustrate in the hope
Of issue, common children of one womb
Had forced a closer bond twixt him and me,
But Fate swooped down upon him), therefore I
His blood-avenger will maintain his cause
As though he were my sire, and leave no stone
Unturned to track the assassin or avenge
The son of Labdacus, of Polydore,
Of Cadmus, and Agenor first of the race.
And for the disobedient thus I pray:
May the gods send them neither timely fruits
Of earth, nor teeming increase of the womb,
But may they waste and pine, as now they waste,
Aye and worse stricken; but to all of you,
My loyal subjects who approve my acts,
May Justice, our ally, and all the gods
Be gracious and attend you evermore.
CHORUS
The oath thou profferest, sire, I take and swear.
I slew him not myself, nor can I name
The slayer. For the quest, 'twere well, methinks
That Phoebus, who proposed the riddle, himself
Should give the answer--who the murderer was.
OEDIPUS
Well argued; but no living man can hope
To force the gods to speak against their will.
CHORUS
May I then say what seems next best to me?
OEDIPUS
Aye, if there be a third best, tell it too.
CHORUS
My liege, if any man sees eye to eye
With our lord Phoebus, 'tis our prophet, lord
Teiresias; he of all men best might guide
A searcher of this matter to the light.
OEDIPUS
Here too my zeal has nothing lagged, for twice
At Creon's instance have I sent to fetch him,
And long I marvel why he is not here.
CHORUS
I mind me too of rumors long ago--
Mere gossip.
OEDIPUS
Tell them, I would fain know all.
CHORUS
'Twas said he fell by travelers.
OEDIPUS
So I heard,
But none has seen the man who saw him fall.
CHORUS
Well, if he knows what fear is, he will quail
And flee before the terror of thy curse.
OEDIPUS
Words scare not him who blenches not at deeds.
CHORUS
But here is one to arraign him. Lo, at length
They bring the god-inspired seer in whom
Above all other men is truth inborn.
[Enter TEIRESIAS, led by a boy.]
OEDIPUS
Teiresias, seer who comprehendest all,
Lore of the wise and hidden mysteries,
High things of heaven and low things of the earth,
Thou knowest, though thy blinded eyes see naught,
What plague infects our city; and we turn
To thee, O seer, our one defense and shield.
The purport of the answer that the God
Returned to us who sought his oracle,
The messengers have doubtless told thee--how
One course alone could rid us of the pest,
To find the murderers of Laius,
And slay them or expel them from the land.
Therefore begrudging neither augury
Nor other divination that is thine,
O save thyself, thy country, and thy king,
Save all from this defilement of blood shed.
On thee we rest. This is man's highest end,
To others' service all his powers to lend.
TEIRESIAS
Alas, alas, what misery to be wise
When wisdom profits nothing! This old lore
I had forgotten; else I were not here.
OEDIPUS
What ails thee? Why this melancholy mood?
TEIRESIAS
Let me go home; prevent me not; 'twere best
That thou shouldst bear thy burden and I mine.
OEDIPUS
For shame! no true-born Theban patriot
Would thus withhold the word of prophecy.
TEIRESIAS
_Thy_ words, O king, are wide of the mark, and I
For fear lest I too trip like thee...
OEDIPUS
Oh speak,
Withhold not, I adjure thee, if thou know'st,
Thy knowledge. We are all thy suppliants.
TEIRESIAS
Aye, for ye all are witless, but my voice
Will ne'er reveal my miseries--or thine. [2]
OEDIPUS
What then, thou knowest, and yet willst not speak!
Wouldst thou betray us and destroy the State?
TEIRESIAS
I will not vex myself nor thee. Why ask
Thus idly what from me thou shalt not learn?
OEDIPUS
Monster! thy silence would incense a flint.
Will nothing loose thy tongue? Can nothing melt thee,
Or shake thy dogged taciturnity?
TEIRESIAS
Thou blam'st my mood and seest not thine own
Wherewith thou art mated; no, thou taxest me.
OEDIPUS
And who could stay his choler when he heard
How insolently thou dost flout the State?
TEIRESIAS
Well, it will come what will, though I be mute.
OEDIPUS
Since come it must, thy duty is to tell me.
TEIRESIAS
I have no more to say; storm as thou willst,
And give the rein to all thy pent-up rage.
OEDIPUS
Yea, I am wroth, and will not stint my words,
But speak my whole mind. Thou methinks thou art he,
Who planned the crime, aye, and performed it too,
All save the assassination; and if thou
Hadst not been blind, I had been sworn to boot
That thou alone didst do the bloody deed.
TEIRESIAS
Is it so? Then I charge thee to abide
By thine own proclamation; from this day
Speak not to these or me. Thou art the man,
Thou the accursed polluter of this land.
OEDIPUS
Vile slanderer, thou blurtest forth these taunts,
And think'st forsooth as seer to go scot free.
TEIRESIAS
Yea, I am free, strong in the strength of truth.
OEDIPUS
Who was thy teacher? not methinks thy art.
TEIRESIAS
Thou, goading me against my will to speak.
OEDIPUS
What speech? repeat it and resolve my doubt.
TEIRESIAS
Didst miss my sense wouldst thou goad me on?
OEDIPUS
I but half caught thy meaning; say it again.
TEIRESIAS
I say thou art the murderer of the man
Whose murderer thou pursuest.
OEDIPUS
Thou shalt rue it
Twice to repeat so gross a calumny.
TEIRESIAS
Must I say more to aggravate thy rage?
OEDIPUS
Say all thou wilt; it will be but waste of breath.
TEIRESIAS
I say thou livest with thy nearest kin
In infamy, unwitting in thy shame.
OEDIPUS
Think'st thou for aye unscathed to wag thy tongue?
TEIRESIAS
Yea, if the might of truth can aught prevail.
OEDIPUS
With other men, but not with thee, for thou
In ear, wit, eye, in everything art blind.
TEIRESIAS
Poor fool to utter gibes at me which all
Here present will cast back on thee ere long.
OEDIPUS
Offspring of endless Night, thou hast no power
O'er me or any man who sees the sun.
TEIRESIAS
No, for thy weird is not to fall by me.
I leave to Apollo what concerns the god.
OEDIPUS
Is this a plot of Creon, or thine own?
TEIRESIAS
Not Creon, thou thyself art thine own bane.
OEDIPUS
O wealth and empiry and skill by skill
Outwitted in the battlefield of life,
What spite and envy follow in your train!
See, for this crown the State conferred on me.
A gift, a thing I sought not, for this crown
The trusty Creon, my familiar friend,
Hath lain in wait to oust me and suborned
This mountebank, this juggling charlatan,
This tricksy beggar-priest, for gain alone
Keen-eyed, but in his proper art stone-blind.
Say, sirrah, hast thou ever proved thyself
A prophet? When the riddling Sphinx was here
Why hadst thou no deliverance for this folk?
And yet the riddle was not to be solved
By guess-work but required the prophet's art;
Wherein thou wast found lacking; neither birds
Nor sign from heaven helped thee, but _I_ came,
The simple Oedipus; _I_ stopped her mouth
By mother wit, untaught of auguries.
This is the man whom thou wouldst undermine,
In hope to reign with Creon in my stead.
Methinks that thou and thine abettor soon
Will rue your plot to drive the scapegoat out.
Thank thy grey hairs that thou hast still to learn
What chastisement such arrogance deserves.
CHORUS
To us it seems that both the seer and thou,
O Oedipus, have spoken angry words.
This is no time to wrangle but consult
How best we may fulfill the oracle.
TEIRESIAS
King as thou art, free speech at least is mine
To make reply; in this I am thy peer.
I own no lord but Loxias; him I serve
And ne'er can stand enrolled as Creon's man.
Thus then I answer: since thou hast not spared
To twit me with my blindness--thou hast eyes,
Yet see'st not in what misery thou art fallen,
Nor where thou dwellest nor with whom for mate.
Dost know thy lineage? Nay, thou know'st it not,
And all unwitting art a double foe
To thine own kin, the living and the dead;
Aye and the dogging curse of mother and sire
One day shall drive thee, like a two-edged sword,
Beyond our borders, and the eyes that now
See clear shall henceforward endless night.
Ah whither shall thy bitter cry not reach,
What crag in all Cithaeron but shall then
Reverberate thy wail, when thou hast found
With what a hymeneal thou wast borne
Home, but to no fair haven, on the gale!
Aye, and a flood of ills thou guessest not
Shall set thyself and children in one line.
Flout then both Creon and my words, for none
Of mortals shall be striken worse than thou.
OEDIPUS
Must I endure this fellow's insolence?
A murrain on thee! Get thee hence! Begone
Avaunt! and never cross my threshold more.
TEIRESIAS
I ne'er had come hadst thou not bidden me.
OEDIPUS
I know not thou wouldst utter folly, else
Long hadst thou waited to be summoned here.
TEIRESIAS
Such am I--as it seems to thee a fool,
But to the parents who begat thee, wise.
OEDIPUS
What sayest thou--"parents"? Who begat me, speak?
TEIRESIAS
This day shall be thy birth-day, and thy grave.
OEDIPUS
Thou lov'st to speak in riddles and dark words.
TEIRESIAS
In reading riddles who so skilled as thou?
OEDIPUS
Twit me with that wherein my greatness lies.
TEIRESIAS
And yet this very greatness proved thy bane.
OEDIPUS
No matter if I saved the commonwealth.
TEIRESIAS
'Tis time I left thee. Come, boy, take me home.
OEDIPUS
Aye, take him quickly, for his presence irks
And lets me; gone, thou canst not plague me more.
TEIRESIAS
I go, but first will tell thee why I came.
Thy frown I dread not, for thou canst not harm me.
Hear then: this man whom thou hast sought to arrest
With threats and warrants this long while, the wretch
Who murdered Laius--that man is here.
He passes for an alien in the land
But soon shall prove a Theban, native born.
And yet his fortune brings him little joy;
For blind of seeing, clad in beggar's weeds,
For purple robes, and leaning on his staff,
To a strange land he soon shall grope his way.
And of the children, inmates of his home,
He shall be proved the brother and the sire,
Of her who bare him son and husband both,
Co-partner, and assassin of his sire.
Go in and ponder this, and if thou find
That I have missed the mark, henceforth declare
I have no wit nor skill in prophecy.
[Exeunt TEIRESIAS and OEDIPUS]
CHORUS
(Str. 1)
Who is he by voice immortal named from Pythia's rocky cell,
Doer of foul deeds of bloodshed, horrors that no tongue can tell?
A foot for flight he needs
Fleeter than storm-swift steeds,
For on his heels doth follow,
Armed with the lightnings of his Sire, Apollo.
Like sleuth-hounds too
The Fates pursue.
(Ant. 1)
Yea, but now flashed forth the summons from Parnassus' snowy peak,
"Near and far the undiscovered doer of this murder seek!"
Now like a sullen bull he roves
Through forest brakes and upland groves,
And vainly seeks to fly
The doom that ever nigh
Flits o'er his head,
Still by the avenging Phoebus sped,
The voice divine,
From Earth's mid shrine.
(Str. 2)
Sore perplexed am I by the words of the master seer.
Are they true, are they false? I know not and bridle my tongue for
fear,
Fluttered with vague surmise; nor present nor future is clear.
Quarrel of ancient date or in days still near know I none
Twixt the Labdacidan house and our ruler, Polybus' son.
Proof is there none: how then can I challenge our King's good name,
How in a blood-feud join for an untracked deed of shame?
(Ant. 2)
All wise are Zeus and Apollo, and nothing is hid from their ken;
They are gods; and in wits a man may surpass his fellow men;
But that a mortal seer knows more than I know--where
Hath this been proven? Or how without sign assured, can I blame
Him who saved our State when the winged songstress came,
Tested and tried in the light of us all, like gold assayed?
How can I now assent when a crime is on Oedipus laid?
CREON
Friends, countrymen, I learn King Oedipus
Hath laid against me a most grievous charge,
And come to you protesting. If he deems
That I have harmed or injured him in aught
By word or deed in this our present trouble,
I care not to prolong the span of life,
Thus ill-reputed; for the calumny
Hits not a single blot, but blasts my name,
If by the general voice I am denounced
False to the State and false by you my friends.
CHORUS
This taunt, it well may be, was blurted out
In petulance, not spoken advisedly.
CREON
Did any dare pretend that it was I
Prompted the seer to utter a forged charge?
CHORUS
Such things were said; with what intent I know not.
CREON
Were not his wits and vision all astray
When upon me he fixed this monstrous charge?
CHORUS
I know not; to my sovereign's acts I am blind.
But lo, he comes to answer for himself.
[Enter OEDIPUS.]
OEDIPUS
Sirrah, what mak'st thou here? Dost thou presume
To approach my doors, thou brazen-faced rogue,
My murderer and the filcher of my crown?
Come, answer this, didst thou detect in me
Some touch of cowardice or witlessness,
That made thee undertake this enterprise?
I seemed forsooth too simple to perceive
The serpent stealing on me in the dark,
Or else too weak to scotch it when I saw.
This _thou_ art witless seeking to possess
Without a following or friends the crown,
A prize that followers and wealth must win.
CREON
Attend me. Thou hast spoken, 'tis my turn
To make reply. Then having heard me, judge.
OEDIPUS
Thou art glib of tongue, but I am slow to learn
Of thee; I know too well thy venomous hate.
CREON
First I would argue out this very point.
OEDIPUS
O argue not that thou art not a rogue.
CREON
If thou dost count a virtue stubbornness,
Unschooled by reason, thou art much astray.
OEDIPUS
If thou dost hold a kinsman may be wronged,
And no pains follow, thou art much to seek.
CREON
Therein thou judgest rightly, but this wrong
That thou allegest--tell me what it is.
OEDIPUS
Didst thou or didst thou not advise that I
Should call the priest?
CREON
Yes, and I stand to it.
OEDIPUS
Tell me how long is it since Laius...
CREON
Since Laius...? I follow not thy drift.
OEDIPUS
By violent hands was spirited away.
CREON
In the dim past, a many years agone.
OEDIPUS
Did the same prophet then pursue his craft?
CREON
Yes, skilled as now and in no less repute.
OEDIPUS
Did he at that time ever glance at me?
CREON
Not to my knowledge, not when I was by.
OEDIPUS
But was no search and inquisition made?
CREON
Surely full quest was made, but nothing learnt.
OEDIPUS
Why failed the seer to tell his story _then_?
CREON
I know not, and not knowing hold my tongue.
OEDIPUS
This much thou knowest and canst surely tell.
CREON
What's mean'st thou? All I know I will declare.
OEDIPUS
But for thy prompting never had the seer
Ascribed to me the death of Laius.
CREON
If so he thou knowest best; but I
Would put thee to the question in my turn.
OEDIPUS
Question and prove me murderer if thou canst.
CREON
Then let me ask thee, didst thou wed my sister?
OEDIPUS
A fact so plain I cannot well deny.
CREON
And as thy consort queen she shares the throne?
OEDIPUS
I grant her freely all her heart desires.
CREON
And with you twain I share the triple rule?
OEDIPUS
Yea, and it is that proves thee a false friend.
CREON
Not so, if thou wouldst reason with thyself,
As I with myself. First, I bid thee think,
Would any mortal choose a troubled reign
Of terrors rather than secure repose,
If the same power were given him? As for me,
I have no natural craving for the name
Of king, preferring to do kingly deeds,
And so thinks every sober-minded man.
Now all my needs are satisfied through thee,
And I have naught to fear; but were I king,
My acts would oft run counter to my will.
How could a title then have charms for me
Above the sweets of boundless influence?
I am not so infatuate as to grasp
The shadow when I hold the substance fast.
Now all men cry me Godspeed! wish me well,
And every suitor seeks to gain my ear,
If he would hope to win a grace from thee.
Why should I leave the better, choose the worse?
That were sheer madness, and I am not mad.
No such ambition ever tempted me,
Nor would I have a share in such intrigue.
And if thou doubt me, first to Delphi go,
There ascertain if my report was true
Of the god's answer; next investigate
If with the seer I plotted or conspired,
And if it prove so, sentence me to death,
Not by thy voice alone, but mine and thine.
But O condemn me not, without appeal,
On bare suspicion. 'Tis not right to adjudge
Bad men at random good, or good men bad.
I would as lief a man should cast away
The thing he counts most precious, his own life,
As spurn a true friend. Thou wilt learn in time
The truth, for time alone reveals the just;
A villain is detected in a day.
CHORUS
To one who walketh warily his words
Commend themselves; swift counsels are not sure.
OEDIPUS
When with swift strides the stealthy plotter stalks
I must be quick too with my counterplot.
To wait his onset passively, for him
Is sure success, for me assured defeat.
CREON
What then's thy will? To banish me the land?
OEDIPUS
I would not have thee banished, no, but dead,
That men may mark the wages envy reaps.
CREON
I see thou wilt not yield, nor credit me.
OEDIPUS
[None but a fool would credit such as thou.] [3]
CREON
Thou art not wise.
OEDIPUS
Wise for myself at least.
CREON
Why not for me too?
OEDIPUS
Why for such a knave?
CREON
Suppose thou lackest sense.
OEDIPUS
Yet kings must rule.
CREON
Not if they rule ill.
OEDIPUS
Oh my Thebans, hear him!
CREON
Thy Thebans? am not I a Theban too?
CHORUS
Cease, princes; lo there comes, and none too soon,
Jocasta from the palace. Who so fit
As peacemaker to reconcile your feud?
[Enter JOCASTA.]
JOCASTA
Misguided princes, why have ye upraised
This wordy wrangle? Are ye not ashamed,
While the whole land lies striken, thus to voice
Your private injuries? Go in, my lord;
Go home, my brother, and forebear to make
A public scandal of a petty grief.
CREON
My royal sister, Oedipus, thy lord,
Hath bid me choose (O dread alternative!)
An outlaw's exile or a felon's death.
OEDIPUS
Yes, lady; I have caught him practicing
Against my royal person his vile arts.
CREON
May I ne'er speed but die accursed, if I
In any way am guilty of this charge.
JOCASTA
Believe him, I adjure thee, Oedipus,
First for his solemn oath's sake, then for mine,
And for thine elders' sake who wait on thee.
CHORUS
(Str. 1)
Hearken, King, reflect, we pray thee, but not stubborn but relent.
OEDIPUS
Say to what should I consent?
CHORUS
Respect a man whose probity and troth
Are known to all and now confirmed by oath.
OEDIPUS
Dost know what grace thou cravest?
CHORUS
Yea, I know.
OEDIPUS
Declare it then and make thy meaning plain.
CHORUS
Brand not a friend whom babbling tongues assail;
Let not suspicion 'gainst his oath prevail.
OEDIPUS
Bethink you that in seeking this ye seek
In very sooth my death or banishment?
CHORUS
No, by the leader of the host divine!
(Str. 2)
Witness, thou Sun, such thought was never mine,
Unblest, unfriended may I perish,
If ever I such wish did cherish!
But O my heart is desolate
Musing on our striken State,
Doubly fall'n should discord grow
Twixt you twain, to crown our woe.
OEDIPUS
Well, let him go, no matter what it cost me,
Or certain death or shameful banishment,
For your sake I relent, not his; and him,
Where'er he be, my heart shall still abhor.
CREON
Thou art as sullen in thy yielding mood
As in thine anger thou wast truculent.
Such tempers justly plague themselves the most.
OEDIPUS
Leave me in peace and get thee gone.
CREON
I go,
By thee misjudged, but justified by these.
[Exeunt CREON]
CHORUS
(Ant. 1)
Lady, lead indoors thy consort; wherefore longer here delay?
JOCASTA
Tell me first how rose the fray.
CHORUS
Rumors bred unjust suspicious and injustice rankles sore.
JOCASTA
Were both at fault?
CHORUS
Both.
JOCASTA
What was the tale?
CHORUS
Ask me no more. The land is sore distressed;
'Twere better sleeping ills to leave at rest.
OEDIPUS
Strange counsel, friend! I know thou mean'st me well,
And yet would'st mitigate and blunt my zeal.
CHORUS
(Ant. 2)
King, I say it once again,
Witless were I proved, insane,
If I lightly put away
Thee my country's prop and stay,
Pilot who, in danger sought,
To a quiet haven brought
Our distracted State; and now
Who can guide us right but thou?
JOCASTA
Let me too, I adjure thee, know, O king,
What cause has stirred this unrelenting wrath.
OEDIPUS
I will, for thou art more to me than these.
Lady, the cause is Creon and his plots.
JOCASTA
But what provoked the quarrel? make this clear.
OEDIPUS
He points me out as Laius' murderer.
JOCASTA
Of his own knowledge or upon report?
OEDIPUS
He is too cunning to commit himself,
And makes a mouthpiece of a knavish seer.
JOCASTA
Then thou mayest ease thy conscience on that score.
Listen and I'll convince thee that no man
Hath scot or lot in the prophetic art.
Here is the proof in brief. An oracle
Once came to Laius (I will not say
'Twas from the Delphic god himself, but from
His ministers) declaring he was doomed
To perish by the hand of his own son,
A child that should be born to him by me.
Now Laius--so at least report affirmed--
Was murdered on a day by highwaymen,
No natives, at a spot where three roads meet.
As for the child, it was but three days old,
When Laius, its ankles pierced and pinned
Together, gave it to be cast away
By others on the trackless mountain side.
So then Apollo brought it not to pass
The child should be his father's murderer,
Or the dread terror find accomplishment,
And Laius be slain by his own son.
Such was the prophet's horoscope. O king,
Regard it not. Whate'er the god deems fit
To search, himself unaided will reveal.
OEDIPUS
What memories, what wild tumult of the soul
Came o'er me, lady, as I heard thee speak!
JOCASTA
What mean'st thou? What has shocked and startled thee?
OEDIPUS
Methought I heard thee say that Laius
Was murdered at the meeting of three roads.
JOCASTA
So ran the story that is current still.
OEDIPUS
Where did this happen? Dost thou know the place?
JOCASTA
Phocis the land is called; the spot is where
Branch roads from Delphi and from Daulis meet.
OEDIPUS
And how long is it since these things befell?
JOCASTA
'Twas but a brief while were thou wast proclaimed
Our country's ruler that the news was brought.
OEDIPUS
O Zeus, what hast thou willed to do with me!
JOCASTA
What is it, Oedipus, that moves thee so?
OEDIPUS
Ask me not yet; tell me the build and height
Of Laius? Was he still in manhood's prime?
JOCASTA
Tall was he, and his hair was lightly strewn
With silver; and not unlike thee in form.
OEDIPUS
O woe is me! Mehtinks unwittingly
I laid but now a dread curse on myself.
JOCASTA
What say'st thou? When I look upon thee, my king,
I tremble.
OEDIPUS
'Tis a dread presentiment
That in the end the seer will prove not blind.
One further question to resolve my doubt.
JOCASTA
I quail; but ask, and I will answer all.
OEDIPUS
Had he but few attendants or a train
Of armed retainers with him, like a prince?
JOCASTA
They were but five in all, and one of them
A herald; Laius in a mule-car rode.
OEDIPUS
Alas! 'tis clear as noonday now. But say,
Lady, who carried this report to Thebes?
JOCASTA
A serf, the sole survivor who returned.
OEDIPUS
Haply he is at hand or in the house?
JOCASTA
No, for as soon as he returned and found
Thee reigning in the stead of Laius slain,
He clasped my hand and supplicated me
To send him to the alps and pastures, where
He might be farthest from the sight of Thebes.
And so I sent him. 'Twas an honest slave
And well deserved some better recompense.
OEDIPUS
Fetch him at once. I fain would see the man.
JOCASTA
He shall be brought; but wherefore summon him?
OEDIPUS
Lady, I fear my tongue has overrun
Discretion; therefore I would question him.
JOCASTA
Well, he shall come, but may not I too claim
To share the burden of thy heart, my king?
OEDIPUS
And thou shalt not be frustrate of thy wish.
Now my imaginings have gone so far.
Who has a higher claim that thou to hear
My tale of dire adventures? Listen then.
My sire was Polybus of Corinth, and
My mother Merope, a Dorian;
And I was held the foremost citizen,
Till a strange thing befell me, strange indeed,
Yet scarce deserving all the heat it stirred.
A roisterer at some banquet, flown with wine,
Shouted "Thou art not true son of thy sire."
It irked me, but I stomached for the nonce
The insult; on the morrow I sought out
My mother and my sire and questioned them.
They were indignant at the random slur
Cast on my parentage and did their best
To comfort me, but still the venomed barb
Rankled, for still the scandal spread and grew.
So privily without their leave I went
To Delphi, and Apollo sent me back
Baulked of the knowledge that I came to seek.
But other grievous things he prophesied,
Woes, lamentations, mourning, portents dire;
To wit I should defile my mother's bed
And raise up seed too loathsome to behold,
And slay the father from whose loins I sprang.
Then, lady,--thou shalt hear the very truth--
As I drew near the triple-branching roads,
A herald met me and a man who sat
In a car drawn by colts--as in thy tale--
The man in front and the old man himself
Threatened to thrust me rudely from the path,
Then jostled by the charioteer in wrath
I struck him, and the old man, seeing this,
Watched till I passed and from his car brought down
Full on my head the double-pointed goad.
Yet was I quits with him and more; one stroke
Of my good staff sufficed to fling him clean
Out of the chariot seat and laid him prone.
And so I slew them every one. But if
Betwixt this stranger there was aught in common
With Laius, who more miserable than I,
What mortal could you find more god-abhorred?
Wretch whom no sojourner, no citizen
May harbor or address, whom all are bound
To harry from their homes. And this same curse
Was laid on me, and laid by none but me.
Yea with these hands all gory I pollute
The bed of him I slew. Say, am I vile?
Am I not utterly unclean, a wretch
Doomed to be banished, and in banishment
Forgo the sight of all my dearest ones,
And never tread again my native earth;
Or else to wed my mother and slay my sire,
Polybus, who begat me and upreared?
If one should say, this is the handiwork
Of some inhuman power, who could blame
His judgment? But, ye pure and awful gods,
Forbid, forbid that I should see that day!
May I be blotted out from living men
Ere such a plague spot set on me its brand!
CHORUS
We too, O king, are troubled; but till thou
Hast questioned the survivor, still hope on.
OEDIPUS
My hope is faint, but still enough survives
To bid me bide the coming of this herd.
JOCASTA
Suppose him here, what wouldst thou learn of him?
OEDIPUS
I'll tell thee, lady; if his tale agrees
With thine, I shall have 'scaped calamity.
JOCASTA
And what of special import did I say?
OEDIPUS
In thy report of what the herdsman said
Laius was slain by robbers; now if he
Still speaks of robbers, not a robber, I
Slew him not; "one" with "many" cannot square.
But if he says one lonely wayfarer,
The last link wanting to my guilt is forged.
JOCASTA
Well, rest assured, his tale ran thus at first,
Nor can he now retract what then he said;
Not I alone but all our townsfolk heard it.
E'en should he vary somewhat in his story,
He cannot make the death of Laius
In any wise jump with the oracle.
For Loxias said expressly he was doomed
To die by my child's hand, but he, poor babe,
He shed no blood, but perished first himself.
So much for divination. Henceforth I
Will look for signs neither to right nor left.
OEDIPUS
Thou reasonest well. Still I would have thee send
And fetch the bondsman hither. See to it.
JOCASTA
That will I straightway. Come, let us within.
I would do nothing that my lord mislikes.
[Exeunt OEDIPUS and JOCASTA]
CHORUS
(Str. 1)
My lot be still to lead
The life of innocence and fly
Irreverence in word or deed,
To follow still those laws ordained on high
Whose birthplace is the bright ethereal sky
No mortal birth they own,
Olympus their progenitor alone:
Ne'er shall they slumber in oblivion cold,
The god in them is strong and grows not old.
(Ant. 1)
Of insolence is bred
The tyrant; insolence full blown,
With empty riches surfeited,
Scales the precipitous height and grasps the throne.
Then topples o'er and lies in ruin prone;
No foothold on that dizzy steep.
But O may Heaven the true patriot keep
Who burns with emulous zeal to serve the State.
God is my help and hope, on him I wait.
(Str. 2)
But the proud sinner, or in word or deed,
That will not Justice heed,
Nor reverence the shrine
Of images divine,
Perdition seize his vain imaginings,
If, urged by greed profane,
He grasps at ill-got gain,
And lays an impious hand on holiest things.
Who when such deeds are done
Can hope heaven's bolts to shun?
If sin like this to honor can aspire,
Why dance I still and lead the sacred choir?
(Ant. 2)
No more I'll seek earth's central oracle,
Or Abae's hallowed cell,
Nor to Olympia bring
My votive offering.
If before all God's truth be not bade plain.
O Zeus, reveal thy might,
King, if thou'rt named aright
Omnipotent, all-seeing, as of old;
For Laius is forgot;
His weird, men heed it not;
Apollo is forsook and faith grows cold.
[Enter JOCASTA.]
JOCASTA
My lords, ye look amazed to see your queen
With wreaths and gifts of incense in her hands.
I had a mind to visit the high shrines,
For Oedipus is overwrought, alarmed
With terrors manifold. He will not use
His past experience, like a man of sense,
To judge the present need, but lends an ear
To any croaker if he augurs ill.
Since then my counsels naught avail, I turn
To thee, our present help in time of trouble,
Apollo, Lord Lycean, and to thee
My prayers and supplications here I bring.
Lighten us, lord, and cleanse us from this curse!
For now we all are cowed like mariners
Who see their helmsman dumbstruck in the storm.
[Enter Corinthian MESSENGER.]
MESSENGER
My masters, tell me where the palace is
Of Oedipus; or better, where's the king.
CHORUS
Here is the palace and he bides within;
This is his queen the mother of his children.
MESSENGER
All happiness attend her and the house,
Blessed is her husband and her marriage-bed.
JOCASTA
My greetings to thee, stranger; thy fair words
Deserve a like response. But tell me why
Thou comest--what thy need or what thy news.
MESSENGER
Good for thy consort and the royal house.
JOCASTA
What may it be? Whose messenger art thou?
MESSENGER
The Isthmian commons have resolved to make
Thy husband king--so 'twas reported there.
JOCASTA
What! is not aged Polybus still king?
MESSENGER
No, verily; he's dead and in his grave.
JOCASTA
What! is he dead, the sire of Oedipus?
MESSENGER
If I speak falsely, may I die myself.
JOCASTA
Quick, maiden, bear these tidings to my lord.
Ye god-sent oracles, where stand ye now!
This is the man whom Oedipus long shunned,
In dread to prove his murderer; and now
He dies in nature's course, not by his hand.
[Enter OEDIPUS.]
OEDIPUS
My wife, my queen, Jocasta, why hast thou
Summoned me from my palace?
JOCASTA
Hear this man,
And as thou hearest judge what has become
Of all those awe-inspiring oracles.
OEDIPUS
Who is this man, and what his news for me?
JOCASTA
He comes from Corinth and his message this:
Thy father Polybus hath passed away.
OEDIPUS
What? let me have it, stranger, from thy mouth.
MESSENGER
If I must first make plain beyond a doubt
My message, know that Polybus is dead.
OEDIPUS
By treachery, or by sickness visited?
MESSENGER
One touch will send an old man to his rest.
OEDIPUS
So of some malady he died, poor man.
MESSENGER
Yes, having measured the full span of years.
OEDIPUS
Out on it, lady! why should one regard
The Pythian hearth or birds that scream i' the air?
Did they not point at me as doomed to slay
My father? but he's dead and in his grave
And here am I who ne'er unsheathed a sword;
Unless the longing for his absent son
Killed him and so _I_ slew him in a sense.
But, as they stand, the oracles are dead--
Dust, ashes, nothing, dead as Polybus.
JOCASTA
Say, did not I foretell this long ago?
OEDIPUS
Thou didst: but I was misled by my fear.
JOCASTA
Then let I no more weigh upon thy soul.
OEDIPUS
Must I not fear my mother's marriage bed.
JOCASTA
Why should a mortal man, the sport of chance,
With no assured foreknowledge, be afraid?
Best live a careless life from hand to mouth.
This wedlock with thy mother fear not thou.
How oft it chances that in dreams a man
Has wed his mother! He who least regards
Such brainsick phantasies lives most at ease.
OEDIPUS
I should have shared in full thy confidence,
Were not my mother living; since she lives
Though half convinced I still must live in dread.
JOCASTA
And yet thy sire's death lights out darkness much.
OEDIPUS
Much, but my fear is touching her who lives.
MESSENGER
Who may this woman be whom thus you fear?
OEDIPUS
Merope, stranger, wife of Polybus.
MESSENGER
And what of her can cause you any fear?
OEDIPUS
A heaven-sent oracle of dread import.
MESSENGER
A mystery, or may a stranger hear it?
OEDIPUS
Aye, 'tis no secret. Loxias once foretold
That I should mate with mine own mother, and shed
With my own hands the blood of my own sire.
Hence Corinth was for many a year to me
A home distant; and I trove abroad,
But missed the sweetest sight, my parents' face.
MESSENGER
Was this the fear that exiled thee from home?
OEDIPUS
Yea, and the dread of slaying my own sire.
MESSENGER
Why, since I came to give thee pleasure, King,
Have I not rid thee of this second fear?
OEDIPUS
Well, thou shalt have due guerdon for thy pains.
MESSENGER
Well, I confess what chiefly made me come
Was hope to profit by thy coming home.
OEDIPUS
Nay, I will ne'er go near my parents more.
MESSENGER
My son, 'tis plain, thou know'st not what thou doest.
OEDIPUS
How so, old man? For heaven's sake tell me all.
MESSENGER
If this is why thou dreadest to return.
OEDIPUS
Yea, lest the god's word be fulfilled in me.
MESSENGER
Lest through thy parents thou shouldst be accursed?
OEDIPUS
This and none other is my constant dread.
MESSENGER
Dost thou not know thy fears are baseless all?
OEDIPUS
How baseless, if I am their very son?
MESSENGER
Since Polybus was naught to thee in blood.
OEDIPUS
What say'st thou? was not Polybus my sire?
MESSENGER
As much thy sire as I am, and no more.
OEDIPUS
My sire no more to me than one who is naught?
MESSENGER
Since I begat thee not, no more did he.
OEDIPUS
What reason had he then to call me son?
MESSENGER
Know that he took thee from my hands, a gift.
OEDIPUS
Yet, if no child of his, he loved me well.
MESSENGER
A childless man till then, he warmed to thee.
OEDIPUS
A foundling or a purchased slave, this child?
MESSENGER
I found thee in Cithaeron's wooded glens.
OEDIPUS
What led thee to explore those upland glades?
MESSENGER
My business was to tend the mountain flocks.
OEDIPUS
A vagrant shepherd journeying for hire?
MESSENGER
True, but thy savior in that hour, my son.
OEDIPUS
My savior? from what harm? what ailed me then?
MESSENGER
Those ankle joints are evidence enow.
OEDIPUS
Ah, why remind me of that ancient sore?
MESSENGER
I loosed the pin that riveted thy feet.
OEDIPUS
Yes, from my cradle that dread brand I bore.
MESSENGER
Whence thou deriv'st the name that still is thine.
OEDIPUS
Who did it? I adjure thee, tell me who
Say, was it father, mother?
MESSENGER
I know not.
The man from whom I had thee may know more.
OEDIPUS
What, did another find me, not thyself?
MESSENGER
Not I; another shepherd gave thee me.
OEDIPUS
Who was he? Would'st thou know again the man?
MESSENGER
He passed indeed for one of Laius' house.
OEDIPUS
The king who ruled the country long ago?
MESSENGER
The same: he was a herdsman of the king.
OEDIPUS
And is he living still for me to see him?
MESSENGER
His fellow-countrymen should best know that.
OEDIPUS
Doth any bystander among you know
The herd he speaks of, or by seeing him
Afield or in the city? answer straight!
The hour hath come to clear this business up.
CHORUS
Methinks he means none other than the hind
Whom thou anon wert fain to see; but that
Our queen Jocasta best of all could tell.
OEDIPUS
Madam, dost know the man we sent to fetch?
Is the same of whom the stranger speaks?
JOCASTA
Who is the man? What matter? Let it be.
'Twere waste of thought to weigh such idle words.
OEDIPUS
No, with such guiding clues I cannot fail
To bring to light the secret of my birth.
JOCASTA
Oh, as thou carest for thy life, give o'er
This quest. Enough the anguish _I_ endure.
OEDIPUS
Be of good cheer; though I be proved the son
Of a bondwoman, aye, through three descents
Triply a slave, thy honor is unsmirched.
JOCASTA
Yet humor me, I pray thee; do not this.
OEDIPUS
I cannot; I must probe this matter home.
JOCASTA
'Tis for thy sake I advise thee for the best.
OEDIPUS
I grow impatient of this best advice.
JOCASTA
Ah mayst thou ne'er discover who thou art!
OEDIPUS
Go, fetch me here the herd, and leave yon woman
To glory in her pride of ancestry.
JOCASTA
O woe is thee, poor wretch! With that last word
I leave thee, henceforth silent evermore.
[Exit JOCASTA]
CHORUS
Why, Oedipus, why stung with passionate grief
Hath the queen thus departed? Much I fear
From this dead calm will burst a storm of woes.
OEDIPUS
Let the storm burst, my fixed resolve still holds,
To learn my lineage, be it ne'er so low.
It may be she with all a woman's pride
Thinks scorn of my base parentage. But I
Who rank myself as Fortune's favorite child,
The giver of good gifts, shall not be shamed.
She is my mother and the changing moons
My brethren, and with them I wax and wane.
Thus sprung why should I fear to trace my birth?
Nothing can make me other than I am.
CHORUS
(Str.)
If my soul prophetic err not, if my wisdom aught avail,
Thee, Cithaeron, I shall hail,
As the nurse and foster-mother of our Oedipus shall greet
Ere tomorrow's full moon rises, and exalt thee as is meet.
Dance and song shall hymn thy praises, lover of our royal race.
Phoebus, may my words find grace!
(Ant.)
Child, who bare thee, nymph or goddess? sure thy sure was more than
man,
Haply the hill-roamer Pan.
Of did Loxias beget thee, for he haunts the upland wold;
Or Cyllene's lord, or Bacchus, dweller on the hilltops cold?
Did some Heliconian Oread give him thee, a new-born joy?
Nymphs with whom he love to toy?
OEDIPUS
Elders, if I, who never yet before
Have met the man, may make a guess, methinks
I see the herdsman who we long have sought;
His time-worn aspect matches with the years
Of yonder aged messenger; besides
I seem to recognize the men who bring him
As servants of my own. But you, perchance,
Having in past days known or seen the herd,
May better by sure knowledge my surmise.
CHORUS
I recognize him; one of Laius' house;
A simple hind, but true as any man.
[Enter HERDSMAN.]
OEDIPUS
Corinthian, stranger, I address thee first,
Is this the man thou meanest!
MESSENGER
This is he.
OEDIPUS
And now old man, look up and answer all
I ask thee. Wast thou once of Laius' house?
HERDSMAN
I was, a thrall, not purchased but home-bred.
OEDIPUS
What was thy business? how wast thou employed?
HERDSMAN
The best part of my life I tended sheep.
OEDIPUS
What were the pastures thou didst most frequent?
HERDSMAN
Cithaeron and the neighboring alps.
OEDIPUS
Then there
Thou must have known yon man, at least by fame?
HERDSMAN
Yon man? in what way? what man dost thou mean?
OEDIPUS
The man here, having met him in past times...
HERDSMAN
Off-hand I cannot call him well to mind.
MESSENGER
No wonder, master. But I will revive
His blunted memories. Sure he can recall
What time together both we drove our flocks,
He two, I one, on the Cithaeron range,
For three long summers; I his mate from spring
Till rose Arcturus; then in winter time
I led mine home, he his to Laius' folds.
Did these things happen as I say, or no?
HERDSMAN
'Tis long ago, but all thou say'st is true.
MESSENGER
Well, thou mast then remember giving me
A child to rear as my own foster-son?
HERDSMAN
Why dost thou ask this question? What of that?
MESSENGER
Friend, he that stands before thee was that child.
HERDSMAN
A plague upon thee! Hold thy wanton tongue!
OEDIPUS
Softly, old man, rebuke him not; thy words
Are more deserving chastisement than his.
HERDSMAN
O best of masters, what is my offense?
OEDIPUS
Not answering what he asks about the child.
HERDSMAN
He speaks at random, babbles like a fool.
OEDIPUS
If thou lack'st grace to speak, I'll loose thy tongue.
HERDSMAN
For mercy's sake abuse not an old man.
OEDIPUS
Arrest the villain, seize and pinion him!
HERDSMAN
Alack, alack!
What have I done? what wouldst thou further learn?
OEDIPUS
Didst give this man the child of whom he asks?
HERDSMAN
I did; and would that I had died that day!
OEDIPUS
And die thou shalt unless thou tell the truth.
HERDSMAN
But, if I tell it, I am doubly lost.
OEDIPUS
The knave methinks will still prevaricate.
HERDSMAN
Nay, I confessed I gave it long ago.
OEDIPUS
Whence came it? was it thine, or given to thee?
HERDSMAN
I had it from another, 'twas not mine.
OEDIPUS
From whom of these our townsmen, and what house?
HERDSMAN
Forbear for God's sake, master, ask no more.
OEDIPUS
If I must question thee again, thou'rt lost.
HERDSMAN
Well then--it was a child of Laius' house.
OEDIPUS
Slave-born or one of Laius' own race?
HERDSMAN
Ah me!
I stand upon the perilous edge of speech.
OEDIPUS
And I of hearing, but I still must hear.
HERDSMAN
Know then the child was by repute his own,
But she within, thy consort best could tell.
OEDIPUS
What! she, she gave it thee?
HERDSMAN
'Tis so, my king.
OEDIPUS
With what intent?
HERDSMAN
To make away with it.
OEDIPUS
What, she its mother.
HERDSMAN
Fearing a dread weird.
OEDIPUS
What weird?
HERDSMAN
'Twas told that he should slay his sire.
OEDIPUS
What didst thou give it then to this old man?
HERDSMAN
Through pity, master, for the babe. I thought
He'd take it to the country whence he came;
But he preserved it for the worst of woes.
For if thou art in sooth what this man saith,
God pity thee! thou wast to misery born.
OEDIPUS
Ah me! ah me! all brought to pass, all true!
O light, may I behold thee nevermore!
I stand a wretch, in birth, in wedlock cursed,
A parricide, incestuously, triply cursed!
[Exit OEDIPUS]
CHORUS
(Str. 1)
Races of mortal man
Whose life is but a span,
I count ye but the shadow of a shade!
For he who most doth know
Of bliss, hath but the show;
A moment, and the visions pale and fade.
Thy fall, O Oedipus, thy piteous fall
Warns me none born of women blest to call.
(Ant. 1)
For he of marksmen best,
O Zeus, outshot the rest,
And won the prize supreme of wealth and power.
By him the vulture maid
Was quelled, her witchery laid;
He rose our savior and the land's strong tower.
We hailed thee king and from that day adored
Of mighty Thebes the universal lord.
(Str. 2)
O heavy hand of fate!
Who now more desolate,
Whose tale more sad than thine, whose lot more dire?
O Oedipus, discrowned head,
Thy cradle was thy marriage bed;
One harborage sufficed for son and sire.
How could the soil thy father eared so long
Endure to bear in silence such a wrong?
(Ant. 2)
All-seeing Time hath caught
Guilt, and to justice brought
The son and sire commingled in one bed.
O child of Laius' ill-starred race
Would I had ne'er beheld thy face;
I raise for thee a dirge as o'er the dead.
Yet, sooth to say, through thee I drew new breath,
And now through thee I feel a second death.
[Enter SECOND MESSENGER.]
SECOND MESSENGER
Most grave and reverend senators of Thebes,
What Deeds ye soon must hear, what sights behold
How will ye mourn, if, true-born patriots,
Ye reverence still the race of Labdacus!
Not Ister nor all Phasis' flood, I ween,
Could wash away the blood-stains from this house,
The ills it shrouds or soon will bring to light,
Ills wrought of malice, not unwittingly.
The worst to bear are self-inflicted wounds.
CHORUS
Grievous enough for all our tears and groans
Our past calamities; what canst thou add?
SECOND MESSENGER
My tale is quickly told and quickly heard.
Our sovereign lady queen Jocasta's dead.
CHORUS
Alas, poor queen! how came she by her death?
SECOND MESSENGER
By her own hand. And all the horror of it,
Not having seen, yet cannot comprehend.
Nathless, as far as my poor memory serves,
I will relate the unhappy lady's woe.
When in her frenzy she had passed inside
The vestibule, she hurried straight to win
The bridal-chamber, clutching at her hair
With both her hands, and, once within the room,
She shut the doors behind her with a crash.
"Laius," she cried, and called her husband dead
Long, long ago; her thought was of that child
By him begot, the son by whom the sire
Was murdered and the mother left to breed
With her own seed, a monstrous progeny.
Then she bewailed the marriage bed whereon
Poor wretch, she had conceived a double brood,
Husband by husband, children by her child.
What happened after that I cannot tell,
Nor how the end befell, for with a shriek
Burst on us Oedipus; all eyes were fixed
On Oedipus, as up and down he strode,
Nor could we mark her agony to the end.
For stalking to and fro "A sword!" he cried,
"Where is the wife, no wife, the teeming womb
That bore a double harvest, me and mine?"
And in his frenzy some supernal power
(No mortal, surely, none of us who watched him)
Guided his footsteps; with a terrible shriek,
As though one beckoned him, he crashed against
The folding doors, and from their staples forced
The wrenched bolts and hurled himself within.
Then we beheld the woman hanging there,
A running noose entwined about her neck.
But when he saw her, with a maddened roar
He loosed the cord; and when her wretched corpse
Lay stretched on earth, what followed--O 'twas dread!
He tore the golden brooches that upheld
Her queenly robes, upraised them high and smote
Full on his eye-balls, uttering words like these:
"No more shall ye behold such sights of woe,
Deeds I have suffered and myself have wrought;
Henceforward quenched in darkness shall ye see
Those ye should ne'er have seen; now blind to those
Whom, when I saw, I vainly yearned to know."
Such was the burden of his moan, whereto,
Not once but oft, he struck with his hand uplift
His eyes, and at each stroke the ensanguined orbs
Bedewed his beard, not oozing drop by drop,
But one black gory downpour, thick as hail.
Such evils, issuing from the double source,
Have whelmed them both, confounding man and wife.
Till now the storied fortune of this house
Was fortunate indeed; but from this day
Woe, lamentation, ruin, death, disgrace,
All ills that can be named, all, all are theirs.
CHORUS
But hath he still no respite from his pain?
SECOND MESSENGER
He cries, "Unbar the doors and let all Thebes
Behold the slayer of his sire, his mother's--"
That shameful word my lips may not repeat.
He vows to fly self-banished from the land,
Nor stay to bring upon his house the curse
Himself had uttered; but he has no strength
Nor one to guide him, and his torture's more
Than man can suffer, as yourselves will see.
For lo, the palace portals are unbarred,
And soon ye shall behold a sight so sad
That he who must abhorred would pity it.
[Enter OEDIPUS blinded.]
CHORUS
Woeful sight! more woeful none
These sad eyes have looked upon.
Whence this madness? None can tell
Who did cast on thee his spell,
prowling all thy life around,
Leaping with a demon bound.
Hapless wretch! how can I brook
On thy misery to look?
Though to gaze on thee I yearn,
Much to question, much to learn,
Horror-struck away I turn.
OEDIPUS
Ah me! ah woe is me!
Ah whither am I borne!
How like a ghost forlorn
My voice flits from me on the air!
On, on the demon goads. The end, ah where?
CHORUS
An end too dread to tell, too dark to see.
OEDIPUS
(Str. 1)
Dark, dark! The horror of darkness, like a shroud,
Wraps me and bears me on through mist and cloud.
Ah me, ah me! What spasms athwart me shoot,
What pangs of agonizing memory?
CHORUS
No marvel if in such a plight thou feel'st
The double weight of past and present woes.
OEDIPUS
(Ant. 1)
Ah friend, still loyal, constant still and kind,
Thou carest for the blind.
I know thee near, and though bereft of eyes,
Thy voice I recognize.
CHORUS
O doer of dread deeds, how couldst thou mar
Thy vision thus? What demon goaded thee?
OEDIPUS
(Str. 2)
Apollo, friend, Apollo, he it was
That brought these ills to pass;
But the right hand that dealt the blow
Was mine, none other. How,
How, could I longer see when sight
Brought no delight?
CHORUS
Alas! 'tis as thou sayest.
OEDIPUS
Say, friends, can any look or voice
Or touch of love henceforth my heart rejoice?
Haste, friends, no fond delay,
Take the twice cursed away
Far from all ken,
The man abhorred of gods, accursed of men.
CHORUS
O thy despair well suits thy desperate case.
Would I had never looked upon thy face!
OEDIPUS
(Ant. 2)
My curse on him whoe'er unrived
The waif's fell fetters and my life revived!
He meant me well, yet had he left me there,
He had saved my friends and me a world of care.
CHORUS
I too had wished it so.
OEDIPUS
Then had I never come to shed
My father's blood nor climbed my mother's bed;
The monstrous offspring of a womb defiled,
Co-mate of him who gendered me, and child.
Was ever man before afflicted thus,
Like Oedipus.
CHORUS
I cannot say that thou hast counseled well,
For thou wert better dead than living blind.
OEDIPUS
What's done was well done. Thou canst never shake
My firm belief. A truce to argument.
For, had I sight, I know not with what eyes
I could have met my father in the shades,
Or my poor mother, since against the twain
I sinned, a sin no gallows could atone.
Aye, but, ye say, the sight of children joys
A parent's eyes. What, born as mine were born?
No, such a sight could never bring me joy;
Nor this fair city with its battlements,
Its temples and the statues of its gods,
Sights from which I, now wretchedst of all,
Once ranked the foremost Theban in all Thebes,
By my own sentence am cut off, condemned
By my own proclamation 'gainst the wretch,
The miscreant by heaven itself declared
Unclean--and of the race of Laius.
Thus branded as a felon by myself,
How had I dared to look you in the face?
Nay, had I known a way to choke the springs
Of hearing, I had never shrunk to make
A dungeon of this miserable frame,
Cut off from sight and hearing; for 'tis bliss
to bide in regions sorrow cannot reach.
Why didst thou harbor me, Cithaeron, why
Didst thou not take and slay me? Then I never
Had shown to men the secret of my birth.
O Polybus, O Corinth, O my home,
Home of my ancestors (so wast thou called)
How fair a nursling then I seemed, how foul
The canker that lay festering in the bud!
Now is the blight revealed of root and fruit.
Ye triple high-roads, and thou hidden glen,
Coppice, and pass where meet the three-branched ways,
Ye drank my blood, the life-blood these hands spilt,
My father's; do ye call to mind perchance
Those deeds of mine ye witnessed and the work
I wrought thereafter when I came to Thebes?
O fatal wedlock, thou didst give me birth,
And, having borne me, sowed again my seed,
Mingling the blood of fathers, brothers, children,
Brides, wives and mothers, an incestuous brood,
All horrors that are wrought beneath the sun,
Horrors so foul to name them were unmeet.
O, I adjure you, hide me anywhere
Far from this land, or slay me straight, or cast me
Down to the depths of ocean out of sight.
Come hither, deign to touch an abject wretch;
Draw near and fear not; I myself must bear
The load of guilt that none but I can share.
[Enter CREON.]
CREON
Lo, here is Creon, the one man to grant
Thy prayer by action or advice, for he
Is left the State's sole guardian in thy stead.
OEDIPUS
Ah me! what words to accost him can I find?
What cause has he to trust me? In the past
I have bee proved his rancorous enemy.
CREON
Not in derision, Oedipus, I come
Nor to upbraid thee with thy past misdeeds.
(To BYSTANDERS)
But shame upon you! if ye feel no sense
Of human decencies, at least revere
The Sun whose light beholds and nurtures all.
Leave not thus nakedly for all to gaze at
A horror neither earth nor rain from heaven
Nor light will suffer. Lead him straight within,
For it is seemly that a kinsman's woes
Be heard by kin and seen by kin alone.
OEDIPUS
O listen, since thy presence comes to me
A shock of glad surprise--so noble thou,
And I so vile--O grant me one small boon.
I ask it not on my behalf, but thine.
CREON
And what the favor thou wouldst crave of me?
OEDIPUS
Forth from thy borders thrust me with all speed;
Set me within some vasty desert where
No mortal voice shall greet me any more.
CREON
This had I done already, but I deemed
It first behooved me to consult the god.
OEDIPUS
His will was set forth fully--to destroy
The parricide, the scoundrel; and I am he.
CREON
Yea, so he spake, but in our present plight
'Twere better to consult the god anew.
OEDIPUS
Dare ye inquire concerning such a wretch?
CREON
Yea, for thyself wouldst credit now his word.
OEDIPUS
Aye, and on thee in all humility
I lay this charge: let her who lies within
Receive such burial as thou shalt ordain;
Such rites 'tis thine, as brother, to perform.
But for myself, O never let my Thebes,
The city of my sires, be doomed to bear
The burden of my presence while I live.
No, let me be a dweller on the hills,
On yonder mount Cithaeron, famed as mine,
My tomb predestined for me by my sire
And mother, while they lived, that I may die
Slain as they sought to slay me, when alive.
This much I know full surely, nor disease
Shall end my days, nor any common chance;
For I had ne'er been snatched from death, unless
I was predestined to some awful doom.
So be it. I reck not how Fate deals with me
But my unhappy children--for my sons
Be not concerned, O Creon, they are men,
And for themselves, where'er they be, can fend.
But for my daughters twain, poor innocent maids,
Who ever sat beside me at the board
Sharing my viands, drinking of my cup,
For them, I pray thee, care, and, if thou willst,
O might I feel their touch and make my moan.
Hear me, O prince, my noble-hearted prince!
Could I but blindly touch them with my hands
I'd think they still were mine, as when I saw.
[ANTIGONE and ISMENE are led in.]
What say I? can it be my pretty ones
Whose sobs I hear? Has Creon pitied me
And sent me my two darlings? Can this be?
CREON
'Tis true; 'twas I procured thee this delight,
Knowing the joy they were to thee of old.
OEDIPUS
God speed thee! and as meed for bringing them
May Providence deal with thee kindlier
Than it has dealt with me! O children mine,
Where are ye? Let me clasp you with these hands,
A brother's hands, a father's; hands that made
Lack-luster sockets of his once bright eyes;
Hands of a man who blindly, recklessly,
Became your sire by her from whom he sprang.
Though I cannot behold you, I must weep
In thinking of the evil days to come,
The slights and wrongs that men will put upon you.
Where'er ye go to feast or festival,
No merrymaking will it prove for you,
But oft abashed in tears ye will return.
And when ye come to marriageable years,
Where's the bold wooers who will jeopardize
To take unto himself such disrepute
As to my children's children still must cling,
For what of infamy is lacking here?
"Their father slew his father, sowed the seed
Where he himself was gendered, and begat
These maidens at the source wherefrom he sprang."
Such are the gibes that men will cast at you.
Who then will wed you? None, I ween, but ye
Must pine, poor maids, in single barrenness.
O Prince, Menoeceus' son, to thee, I turn,
With the it rests to father them, for we
Their natural parents, both of us, are lost.
O leave them not to wander poor, unwed,
Thy kin, nor let them share my low estate.
O pity them so young, and but for thee
All destitute. Thy hand upon it, Prince.
To you, my children I had much to say,
Were ye but ripe to hear. Let this suffice:
Pray ye may find some home and live content,
And may your lot prove happier than your sire's.
CREON
Thou hast had enough of weeping; pass within.
OEDIPUS
I must obey,
Though 'tis grievous.
CREON
Weep not, everything must have its day.
OEDIPUS
Well I go, but on conditions.
CREON
What thy terms for going, say.
OEDIPUS
Send me from the land an exile.
CREON
Ask this of the gods, not me.
OEDIPUS
But I am the gods' abhorrence.
CREON
Then they soon will grant thy plea.
OEDIPUS
Lead me hence, then, I am willing.
CREON
Come, but let thy children go.
OEDIPUS
Rob me not of these my children!
CREON
Crave not mastery in all,
For the mastery that raised thee was thy bane and wrought thy fall.
CHORUS
Look ye, countrymen and Thebans, this is Oedipus the great,
He who knew the Sphinx's riddle and was mightiest in our state.
Who of all our townsmen gazed not on his fame with envious eyes?
Now, in what a sea of troubles sunk and overwhelmed he lies!
Therefore wait to see life's ending ere thou count one mortal blest;
Wait till free from pain and sorrow he has gained his final rest.
FOOTNOTES
---------
1. Dr. Kennedy and others render "Since to men of experience I see
that also comparisons of their counsels are in most lively use."
2. Literally "not to call them thine," but the Greek may be rendered
"In order not to reveal thine."
3. The Greek text that occurs in this place has been lost.
***End of the Project Gutenberg Etext of Sophocles' Oedipus Rex***
This is the Project Gutenberg Etext Sophocles' Oedipus at Colonus
This file should be named oedcl10.txt or oedcl10.zip if separate.
*It should include the header from the top including small print*
SOPHOCLES
OEDIPUS AT COLONUS
Translation by F. Storr, BA
Formerly Scholar of Trinity College, Cambridge
From the Loeb Library Edition
Originally published by
Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA
and
William Heinemann Ltd, London
First published in 1912
----------------------------------------------------------------------
ARGUMENT
Oedipus, the blind and banished King of Thebes, has come in his
wanderings to Colonus, a deme of Athens, led by his daughter Antigone.
He sits to rest on a rock just within a sacred grove of the Furies and
is bidden depart by a passing native. But Oedipus, instructed by an
oracle that he had reached his final resting-place, refuses to stir,
and the stranger consents to go and consult the Elders of Colonus (the
Chorus of the Play). Conducted to the spot they pity at first the
blind beggar and his daughter, but on learning his name they are
horror-striken and order him to quit the land. He appeals to the
world-famed hospitality of Athens and hints at the blessings that his
coming will confer on the State. They agree to await the decision of
King Theseus. From Theseus Oedipus craves protection in life and
burial in Attic soil; the benefits that will accrue shall be told
later. Theseus departs having promised to aid and befriend him. No
sooner has he gone than Creon enters with an armed guard who seize
Antigone and carry her off (Ismene, the other sister, they have
already captured) and he is about to lay hands on Oedipus, when
Theseus, who has heard the tumult, hurries up and, upbraiding Creon
for his lawless act, threatens to detain him till he has shown where
the captives are and restored them. In the next scene Theseus returns
bringing with him the rescued maidens. He informs Oedipus that a
stranger who has taken sanctuary at the altar of Poseidon wishes to
see him. It is Polyneices who has come to crave his father's
forgiveness and blessing, knowing by an oracle that victory will fall
to the side that Oedipus espouses. But Oedipus spurns the hypocrite,
and invokes a dire curse on both his unnatural sons. A sudden clap of
thunder is heard, and as peal follows peal, Oedipus is aware that his
hour is come and bids Antigone summon Theseus. Self-guided he leads
the way to the spot where death should overtake him, attended by
Theseus and his daughters. Halfway he bids his daughters farewell,
and what followed none but Theseus knew. He was not (so the Messenger
reports) for the gods took him.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
OEDIPUS, banished King of Thebes.
ANTIGONE, his daughter.
ISMENE, his daughter.
THESEUS, King of Athens.
CREON, brother of Jocasta, now reigning at Thebes.
POLYNEICES, elder son of Oedipus.
STRANGER, a native of Colonus.
MESSENGER, an attendant of Theseus.
CHORUS, citizens of Colonus.
Scene: In front of the grove of the Eumenides.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
OEDIPUS AT COLONUS
Enter the blind OEDIPUS led by his daughter, ANTIGONE.
OEDIPUS
Child of an old blind sire, Antigone,
What region, say, whose city have we reached?
Who will provide today with scanted dole
This wanderer? 'Tis little that he craves,
And less obtains--that less enough for me;
For I am taught by suffering to endure,
And the long years that have grown old with me,
And last not least, by true nobility.
My daughter, if thou seest a resting place
On common ground or by some sacred grove,
Stay me and set me down. Let us discover
Where we have come, for strangers must inquire
Of denizens, and do as they are bid.
ANTIGONE
Long-suffering father, Oedipus, the towers
That fence the city still are faint and far;
But where we stand is surely holy ground;
A wilderness of laurel, olive, vine;
Within a choir or songster nightingales
Are warbling. On this native seat of rock
Rest; for an old man thou hast traveled far.
OEDIPUS
Guide these dark steps and seat me there secure.
ANTIGONE
If time can teach, I need not to be told.
OEDIPUS
Say, prithee, if thou knowest, where we are.
ANTIGONE
Athens I recognize, but not the spot.
OEDIPUS
That much we heard from every wayfarer.
ANTIGONE
Shall I go on and ask about the place?
OEDIPUS
Yes, daughter, if it be inhabited.
ANTIGONE
Sure there are habitations; but no need
To leave thee; yonder is a man hard by.
OEDIPUS
What, moving hitherward and on his way?
ANTIGONE
Say rather, here already. Ask him straight
The needful questions, for the man is here.
[Enter STRANGER]
OEDIPUS
O stranger, as I learn from her whose eyes
Must serve both her and me, that thou art here
Sent by some happy chance to serve our doubts--
STRANGER
First quit that seat, then question me at large:
The spot thou treadest on is holy ground.
OEDIPUS
What is the site, to what god dedicate?
STRANGER
Inviolable, untrod; goddesses,
Dread brood of Earth and Darkness, here abide.
OEDIPUS
Tell me the awful name I should invoke?
STRANGER
The Gracious Ones, All-seeing, so our folk
Call them, but elsewhere other names are rife.
OEDIPUS
Then may they show their suppliant grace, for I
From this your sanctuary will ne'er depart.
STRANGER
What word is this?
OEDIPUS
The watchword of my fate.
STRANGER
Nay, 'tis not mine to bid thee hence without
Due warrant and instruction from the State.
OEDIPUS
Now in God's name, O stranger, scorn me not
As a wayfarer; tell me what I crave.
STRANGER
Ask; your request shall not be scorned by me.
OEDIPUS
How call you then the place wherein we bide?
STRANGER
Whate'er I know thou too shalt know; the place
Is all to great Poseidon consecrate.
Hard by, the Titan, he who bears the torch,
Prometheus, has his worship; but the spot
Thou treadest, the Brass-footed Threshold named,
Is Athens' bastion, and the neighboring lands
Claim as their chief and patron yonder knight
Colonus, and in common bear his name.
Such, stranger, is the spot, to fame unknown,
But dear to us its native worshipers.
OEDIPUS
Thou sayest there are dwellers in these parts?
STRANGER
Surely; they bear the name of yonder god.
OEDIPUS
Ruled by a king or by the general voice?
STRANGER
The lord of Athens is our over-lord.
OEDIPUS
Who is this monarch, great in word and might?
STRANGER
Theseus, the son of Aegeus our late king.
OEDIPUS
Might one be sent from you to summon him?
STRANGER
Wherefore? To tell him aught or urge his coming?
OEDIPUS
Say a slight service may avail him much.
STRANGER
How can he profit from a sightless man?
OEDIPUS
The blind man's words will be instinct with sight.
STRANGER
Heed then; I fain would see thee out of harm;
For by the looks, marred though they be by fate,
I judge thee noble; tarry where thou art,
While I go seek the burghers--those at hand,
Not in the city. They will soon decide
Whether thou art to rest or go thy way.
[Exit STRANGER]
OEDIPUS
Tell me, my daughter, has the stranger gone?
ANTIGONE
Yes, he has gone; now we are all alone,
And thou may'st speak, dear father, without fear.
OEDIPUS
Stern-visaged queens, since coming to this land
First in your sanctuary I bent the knee,
Frown not on me or Phoebus, who, when erst
He told me all my miseries to come,
Spake of this respite after many years,
Some haven in a far-off land, a rest
Vouchsafed at last by dread divinities.
"There," said he, "shalt thou round thy weary life,
A blessing to the land wherein thou dwell'st,
But to the land that cast thee forth, a curse."
And of my weird he promised signs should come,
Earthquake, or thunderclap, or lightning flash.
And now I recognize as yours the sign
That led my wanderings to this your grove;
Else had I never lighted on you first,
A wineless man on your seat of native rock.
O goddesses, fulfill Apollo's word,
Grant me some consummation of my life,
If haply I appear not all too vile,
A thrall to sorrow worse than any slave.
Hear, gentle daughters of primeval Night,
Hear, namesake of great Pallas; Athens, first
Of cities, pity this dishonored shade,
The ghost of him who once was Oedipus.
ANTIGONE
Hush! for I see some grey-beards on their way,
Their errand to spy out our resting-place.
OEDIPUS
I will be mute, and thou shalt guide my steps
Into the covert from the public road,
Till I have learned their drift. A prudent man
Will ever shape his course by what he learns.
[Enter CHORUS]
CHORUS
(Str. 1)
Ha! Where is he? Look around!
Every nook and corner scan!
He the all-presumptuous man,
Whither vanished? search the ground!
A wayfarer, I ween,
A wayfarer, no countryman of ours,
That old man must have been;
Never had native dared to tempt the Powers,
Or enter their demesne,
The Maids in awe of whom each mortal cowers,
Whose name no voice betrays nor cry,
And as we pass them with averted eye,
We move hushed lips in reverent piety.
But now some godless man,
'Tis rumored, here abides;
The precincts through I scan,
Yet wot not where he hides,
The wretch profane!
I search and search in vain.
OEDIPUS
I am that man; I know you near
Ears to the blind, they say, are eyes.
CHORUS
O dread to see and dread to hear!
OEDIPUS
Oh sirs, I am no outlaw under ban.
CHORUS
Who can he be--Zeus save us!--this old man?
OEDIPUS
No favorite of fate,
That ye should envy his estate,
O, Sirs, would any happy mortal, say,
Grope by the light of other eyes his way,
Or face the storm upon so frail a stay?
CHORUS
(Ant. 1)
Wast thou then sightless from thy birth?
Evil, methinks, and long
Thy pilgrimage on earth.
Yet add not curse to curse and wrong to wrong.
I warn thee, trespass not
Within this hallowed spot,
Lest thou shouldst find the silent grassy glade
Where offerings are laid,
Bowls of spring water mingled with sweet mead.
Thou must not stay,
Come, come away,
Tired wanderer, dost thou heed?
(We are far off, but sure our voice can reach.)
If aught thou wouldst beseech,
Speak where 'tis right; till then refrain from speech.
OEDIPUS
Daughter, what counsel should we now pursue?
ANTIGONE
We must obey and do as here they do.
OEDIPUS
Thy hand then!
ANTIGONE
Here, O father, is my hand,
OEDIPUS
O Sirs, if I come forth at your command,
Let me not suffer for my confidence.
CHORUS
(Str. 2)
Against thy will no man shall drive thee hence.
OEDIPUS
Shall I go further?
CHORUS
Aye.
OEDIPUS
What further still?
CHORUS
Lead maiden, thou canst guide him where we will.
ANTIGONE [1]
* * * * * *
OEDIPUS
* * * * * *
ANTIGONE
* * * * * *
Follow with blind steps, father, as I lead.
OEDIPUS
* * * * * *
CHORUS
In a strange land strange thou art;
To her will incline thy heart;
Honor whatso'er the State
Honors, all she frowns on hate.
OEDIPUS
Guide me child, where we may range
Safe within the paths of right;
Counsel freely may exchange
Nor with fate and fortune fight.
CHORUS
(Ant. 2)
Halt! Go no further than that rocky floor.
OEDIPUS
Stay where I now am?
CHORUS
Yes, advance no more.
OEDIPUS
May I sit down?
CHORUS
Move sideways towards the ledge,
And sit thee crouching on the scarped edge.
ANTIGONE
This is my office, father, O incline--
OEDIPUS
Ah me! ah me!
ANTIGONE
Thy steps to my steps, lean thine aged frame on mine.
OEDIPUS
Woe on my fate unblest!
CHORUS
Wanderer, now thou art at rest,
Tell me of thy birth and home,
From what far country art thou come,
Led on thy weary way, declare!
OEDIPUS
Strangers, I have no country. O forbear--
CHORUS
What is it, old man, that thou wouldst conceal?
OEDIPUS
Forbear, nor urge me further to reveal--
CHORUS
Why this reluctance?
OEDIPUS
Dread my lineage.
CHORUS
Say!
OEDIPUS
What must I answer, child, ah welladay!
CHORUS
Say of what stock thou comest, what man's son--
OEDIPUS
Ah me, my daughter, now we are undone!
ANTIGONE
Speak, for thou standest on the slippery verge.
OEDIPUS
I will; no plea for silence can I urge.
CHORUS
Will neither speak? Come, Sir, why dally thus!
OEDIPUS
Know'st one of Laius'--
CHORUS
Ha? Who!
OEDIPUS
Seed of Labdacus--
CHORUS
Oh Zeus!
OEDIPUS
The hapless Oedipus.
CHORUS
Art he?
OEDIPUS
Whate'er I utter, have no fear of me.
CHORUS
Begone!
OEDIPUS
O wretched me!
CHORUS
Begone!
OEDIPUS
O daughter, what will hap anon?
CHORUS
Forth from our borders speed ye both!
OEDIPUS
How keep you then your troth?
CHORUS
Heaven's justice never smites
Him who ill with ill requites.
But if guile with guile contend,
Bane, not blessing, is the end.
Arise, begone and take thee hence straightway,
Lest on our land a heavier curse thou lay.
ANTIGONE
O sirs! ye suffered not my father blind,
Albeit gracious and to ruth inclined,
Knowing the deeds he wrought, not innocent,
But with no ill intent;
Yet heed a maiden's moan
Who pleads for him alone;
My eyes, not reft of sight,
Plead with you as a daughter's might
You are our providence,
O make us not go hence!
O with a gracious nod
Grant us the nigh despaired-of boon we crave?
Hear us, O hear,
But all that ye hold dear,
Wife, children, homestead, hearth and God!
Where will you find one, search ye ne'er so well.
Who 'scapes perdition if a god impel!
CHORUS
Surely we pity thee and him alike
Daughter of Oedipus, for your distress;
But as we reverence the decrees of Heaven
We cannot say aught other than we said.
OEDIPUS
O what avails renown or fair repute?
Are they not vanity? For, look you, now
Athens is held of States the most devout,
Athens alone gives hospitality
And shelters the vexed stranger, so men say.
Have I found so? I whom ye dislodged
First from my seat of rock and now would drive
Forth from your land, dreading my name alone;
For me you surely dread not, nor my deeds,
Deeds of a man more sinned against than sinning,
As I might well convince you, were it meet
To tell my mother's story and my sire's,
The cause of this your fear. Yet am I then
A villain born because in self-defense,
Striken, I struck the striker back again?
E'en had I known, no villainy 'twould prove:
But all unwitting whither I went, I went--
To ruin; my destroyers knew it well,
Wherefore, I pray you, sirs, in Heaven's name,
Even as ye bade me quit my seat, defend me.
O pay not a lip service to the gods
And wrong them of their dues. Bethink ye well,
The eye of Heaven beholds the just of men,
And the unjust, nor ever in this world
Has one sole godless sinner found escape.
Stand then on Heaven's side and never blot
Athens' fair scutcheon by abetting wrong.
I came to you a suppliant, and you pledged
Your honor; O preserve me to the end,
O let not this marred visage do me wrong!
A holy and god-fearing man is here
Whose coming purports comfort for your folk.
And when your chief arrives, whoe'er he be,
Then shall ye have my story and know all.
Meanwhile I pray you do me no despite.
CHORUS
The plea thou urgest, needs must give us pause,
Set forth in weighty argument, but we
Must leave the issue with the ruling powers.
OEDIPUS
Where is he, strangers, he who sways the realm?
CHORUS
In his ancestral seat; a messenger,
The same who sent us here, is gone for him.
OEDIPUS
And think you he will have such care or thought
For the blind stranger as to come himself?
CHORUS
Aye, that he will, when once he learns thy name.
OEDIPUS
But who will bear him word!
CHORUS
The way is long,
And many travelers pass to speed the news.
Be sure he'll hear and hasten, never fear;
So wide and far thy name is noised abroad,
That, were he ne'er so spent and loth to move,
He would bestir him when he hears of thee.
OEDIPUS
Well, may he come with blessing to his State
And me! Who serves his neighbor serves himself. [2]
ANTIGONE
Zeus! What is this? What can I say or think?
OEDIPUS
What now, Antigone?
ANTIGONE
I see a woman
Riding upon a colt of Aetna's breed;
She wears for headgear a Thessalian hat
To shade her from the sun. Who can it be?
She or a stranger? Do I wake or dream?
'This she; 'tis not--I cannot tell, alack;
It is no other! Now her bright'ning glance
Greets me with recognition, yes, 'tis she,
Herself, Ismene!
OEDIPUS
Ha! what say ye, child?
ANTIGONE
That I behold thy daughter and my sister,
And thou wilt know her straightway by her voice.
[Enter ISMENE]
ISMENE
Father and sister, names to me most sweet,
How hardly have I found you, hardly now
When found at last can see you through my tears!
OEDIPUS
Art come, my child?
ISMENE
O father, sad thy plight!
OEDIPUS
Child, thou art here?
ISMENE
Yes, 'twas a weary way.
OEDIPUS
Touch me, my child.
ISMENE
I give a hand to both.
OEDIPUS
O children--sisters!
ISMENE
O disastrous plight!
OEDIPUS
Her plight and mine?
ISMENE
Aye, and my own no less.
OEDIPUS
What brought thee, daughter?
ISMENE
Father, care for thee.
OEDIPUS
A daughter's yearning?
ISMENE
Yes, and I had news
I would myself deliver, so I came
With the one thrall who yet is true to me.
OEDIPUS
Thy valiant brothers, where are they at need?
ISMENE
They are--enough, 'tis now their darkest hour.
OEDIPUS
Out on the twain! The thoughts and actions all
Are framed and modeled on Egyptian ways.
For there the men sit at the loom indoors
While the wives slave abroad for daily bread.
So you, my children--those whom I behooved
To bear the burden, stay at home like girls,
While in their stead my daughters moil and drudge,
Lightening their father's misery. The one
Since first she grew from girlish feebleness
To womanhood has been the old man's guide
And shared my weary wandering, roaming oft
Hungry and footsore through wild forest ways,
In drenching rains and under scorching suns,
Careless herself of home and ease, if so
Her sire might have her tender ministry.
And thou, my child, whilom thou wentest forth,
Eluding the Cadmeians' vigilance,
To bring thy father all the oracles
Concerning Oedipus, and didst make thyself
My faithful lieger, when they banished me.
And now what mission summons thee from home,
What news, Ismene, hast thou for thy father?
This much I know, thou com'st not empty-handed,
Without a warning of some new alarm.
ISMENE
The toil and trouble, father, that I bore
To find thy lodging-place and how thou faredst,
I spare thee; surely 'twere a double pain
To suffer, first in act and then in telling;
'Tis the misfortune of thine ill-starred sons
I come to tell thee. At the first they willed
To leave the throne to Creon, minded well
Thus to remove the inveterate curse of old,
A canker that infected all thy race.
But now some god and an infatuate soul
Have stirred betwixt them a mad rivalry
To grasp at sovereignty and kingly power.
Today the hot-branded youth, the younger born,
Is keeping Polyneices from the throne,
His elder, and has thrust him from the land.
The banished brother (so all Thebes reports)
Fled to the vale of Argos, and by help
Of new alliance there and friends in arms,
Swears he will stablish Argos straight as lord
Of the Cadmeian land, or, if he fail,
Exalt the victor to the stars of heaven.
This is no empty tale, but deadly truth,
My father; and how long thy agony,
Ere the gods pity thee, I cannot tell.
OEDIPUS
Hast thou indeed then entertained a hope
The gods at last will turn and rescue me?
ISMENE
Yea, so I read these latest oracles.
OEDIPUS
What oracles? What hath been uttered, child?
ISMENE
Thy country (so it runs) shall yearn in time
To have thee for their weal alive or dead.
OEDIPUS
And who could gain by such a one as I?
ISMENE
On thee, 'tis said, their sovereignty depends.
OEDIPUS
So, when I cease to be, my worth begins.
ISMENE
The gods, who once abased, uplift thee now.
OEDIPUS
Poor help to raise an old man fallen in youth.
ISMENE
Howe'er that be, 'tis for this cause alone
That Creon comes to thee--and comes anon.
OEDIPUS
With what intent, my daughter? Tell me plainly.
ISMENE
To plant thee near the Theban land, and so
Keep thee within their grasp, yet now allow
Thy foot to pass beyond their boundaries.
OEDIPUS
What gain they, if I lay outside?
OEDIPUS
Thy tomb,
If disappointed, brings on them a curse.
OEDIPUS
It needs no god to tell what's plain to sense.
ISMENE
Therefore they fain would have thee close at hand,
Not where thou wouldst be master of thyself.
OEDIPUS
Mean they to shroud my bones in Theban dust?
ISMENE
Nay, father, guilt of kinsman's blood forbids.
OEDIPUS
Then never shall they be my masters, never!
ISMENE
Thebes, thou shalt rue this bitterly some day!
OEDIPUS
When what conjunction comes to pass, my child?
ISMENE
Thy angry wraith, when at thy tomb they stand. [3]
OEDIPUS
And who hath told thee what thou tell'st me, child?
ISMENE
Envoys who visited the Delphic hearth.
OEDIPUS
Hath Phoebus spoken thus concerning me?
ISMENE
So say the envoys who returned to Thebes.
OEDIPUS
And can a son of mine have heard of this?
ISMENE
Yea, both alike, and know its import well.
OEDIPUS
They knew it, yet the ignoble greed of rule
Outweighed all longing for their sire's return.
ISMENE
Grievous thy words, yet I must own them true.
OEDIPUS
Then may the gods ne'er quench their fatal feud,
And mine be the arbitrament of the fight,
For which they now are arming, spear to spear;
That neither he who holds the scepter now
May keep this throne, nor he who fled the realm
Return again. _They_ never raised a hand,
When I their sire was thrust from hearth and home,
When I was banned and banished, what recked they?
Say you 'twas done at my desire, a grace
Which the state, yielding to my wish, allowed?
Not so; for, mark you, on that very day
When in the tempest of my soul I craved
Death, even death by stoning, none appeared
To further that wild longing, but anon,
When time had numbed my anguish and I felt
My wrath had all outrun those errors past,
Then, then it was the city went about
By force to oust me, respited for years;
And then my sons, who should as sons have helped,
Did nothing: and, one little word from them
Was all I needed, and they spoke no word,
But let me wander on for evermore,
A banished man, a beggar. These two maids
Their sisters, girls, gave all their sex could give,
Food and safe harborage and filial care;
While their two brethren sacrificed their sire
For lust of power and sceptred sovereignty.
No! me they ne'er shall win for an ally,
Nor will this Theban kingship bring them gain;
That know I from this maiden's oracles,
And those old prophecies concerning me,
Which Phoebus now at length has brought to pass.
Come Creon then, come all the mightiest
In Thebes to seek me; for if ye my friends,
Championed by those dread Powers indigenous,
Espouse my cause; then for the State ye gain
A great deliverer, for my foemen bane.
CHORUS
Our pity, Oedipus, thou needs must move,
Thou and these maidens; and the stronger plea
Thou urgest, as the savior of our land,
Disposes me to counsel for thy weal.
OEDIPUS
Aid me, kind sirs; I will do all you bid.
CHORUS
First make atonement to the deities,
Whose grove by trespass thou didst first profane.
OEDIPUS
After what manner, stranger? Teach me, pray.
CHORUS
Make a libation first of water fetched
With undefiled hands from living spring.
OEDIPUS
And after I have gotten this pure draught?
CHORUS
Bowls thou wilt find, the carver's handiwork;
Crown thou the rims and both the handles crown--
OEDIPUS
With olive shoots or blocks of wool, or how?
CHORUS
With wool from fleece of yearling freshly shorn.
OEDIPUS
What next? how must I end the ritual?
CHORUS
Pour thy libation, turning to the dawn.
OEDIPUS
Pouring it from the urns whereof ye spake?
CHORUS
Yea, in three streams; and be the last bowl drained
To the last drop.
OEDIPUS
And wherewith shall I fill it,
Ere in its place I set it? This too tell.
CHORUS
With water and with honey; add no wine.
OEDIPUS
And when the embowered earth hath drunk thereof?
CHORUS
Then lay upon it thrice nine olive sprays
With both thy hands, and offer up this prayer.
OEDIPUS
I fain would hear it; that imports the most.
CHORUS
That, as we call them Gracious, they would deign
To grant the suppliant their saving grace.
So pray thyself or whoso pray for thee,
In whispered accents, not with lifted voice;
Then go and look back. Do as I bid,
And I shall then be bold to stand thy friend;
Else, stranger, I should have my fears for thee.
OEDIPUS
Hear ye, my daughters, what these strangers say?
ANTIGONE
We listened, and attend thy bidding, father.
OEDIPUS
I cannot go, disabled as I am
Doubly, by lack of strength and lack of sight;
But one of you may do it in my stead;
For one, I trow, may pay the sacrifice
Of thousands, if his heart be leal and true.
So to your work with speed, but leave me not
Untended; for this frame is all too week
To move without the help of guiding hand.
ISMENE
Then I will go perform these rites, but where
To find the spot, this have I yet to learn.
CHORUS
Beyond this grove; if thou hast need of aught,
The guardian of the close will lend his aid.
ISMENE
I go, and thou, Antigone, meanwhile
Must guard our father. In a parent's cause
Toil, if there be toil, is of no account.
[Exit ISMENE]
CHORUS
(Str. 1)
Ill it is, stranger, to awake
Pain that long since has ceased to ache,
And yet I fain would hear--
OEDIPUS
What thing?
CHORUS
Thy tale of cruel suffering
For which no cure was found,
The fate that held thee bound.
OEDIPUS
O bid me not (as guest I claim
This grace) expose my shame.
CHORUS
The tale is bruited far and near,
And echoes still from ear to ear.
The truth, I fain would hear.
OEDIPUS
Ah me!
CHORUS
I prithee yield.
OEDIPUS
Ah me!
CHORUS
Grant my request, I granted all to thee.
OEDIPUS
(Ant. 1)
Know then I suffered ills most vile, but none
(So help me Heaven!) from acts in malice done.
CHORUS
Say how.
OEDIPUS
The State around
An all unwitting bridegroom bound
An impious marriage chain;
That was my bane.
CHORUS
Didst thou in sooth then share
A bed incestuous with her that bare--
OEDIPUS
It stabs me like a sword,
That two-edged word,
O stranger, but these maids--my own--
CHORUS
Say on.
OEDIPUS
Two daughters, curses twain.
CHORUS
Oh God!
OEDIPUS
Sprang from the wife and mother's travail-pain.
CHORUS
(Str. 2)
What, then thy offspring are at once--
OEDIPUS
Too true.
Their father's very sister's too.
CHORUS
Oh horror!
OEDIPUS
Horrors from the boundless deep
Back on my soul in refluent surges sweep.
CHORUS
Thou hast endured--
OEDIPUS
Intolerable woe.
CHORUS
And sinned--
OEDIPUS
I sinned not.
CHORUS
How so?
OEDIPUS
I served the State; would I had never won
That graceless grace by which I was undone.
CHORUS
(Ant. 2)
And next, unhappy man, thou hast shed blood?
OEDIPUS
Must ye hear more?
CHORUS
A father's?
OEDIPUS
Flood on flood
Whelms me; that word's a second mortal blow.
CHORUS
Murderer!
OEDIPUS
Yes, a murderer, but know--
CHORUS
What canst thou plead?
OEDIPUS
A plea of justice.
CHORUS
How?
OEDIPUS
I slew who else would me have slain;
I slew without intent,
A wretch, but innocent
In the law's eye, I stand, without a stain.
CHORUS
Behold our sovereign, Theseus, Aegeus' son,
Comes at thy summons to perform his part.
[Enter THESEUS]
THESEUS
Oft had I heard of thee in times gone by--
The bloody mutilation of thine eyes--
And therefore know thee, son of Laius.
All that I lately gathered on the way
Made my conjecture doubly sure; and now
Thy garb and that marred visage prove to me
That thou art he. So pitying thine estate,
Most ill-starred Oedipus, I fain would know
What is the suit ye urge on me and Athens,
Thou and the helpless maiden at thy side.
Declare it; dire indeed must be the tale
Whereat _I_ should recoil. I too was reared,
Like thee, in exile, and in foreign lands
Wrestled with many perils, no man more.
Wherefore no alien in adversity
Shall seek in vain my succor, nor shalt thou;
I know myself a mortal, and my share
In what the morrow brings no more than thine.
OEDIPUS
Theseus, thy words so apt, so generous
So comfortable, need no long reply
Both who I am and of what lineage sprung,
And from what land I came, thou hast declared.
So without prologue I may utter now
My brief petition, and the tale is told.
THESEUS
Say on, and tell me what I fain would learn.
OEDIPUS
I come to offer thee this woe-worn frame,
A gift | | |
