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.
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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.
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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
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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
not fair to look on; yet its worth
More
precious far than any outward show.
THESEUS
What
profit dost thou proffer to have brought?
OEDIPUS
Hereafter
thou shalt learn, not yet, methinks.
THESEUS
When
may we hope to reap the benefit?
OEDIPUS
When I
am dead and thou hast buried me.
THESEUS
Thou
cravest life's last service; all before--
Is it
forgotten or of no account?
OEDIPUS
Yea,
the last boon is warrant for the rest.
THESEUS
The
grace thou cravest then is small indeed.
OEDIPUS
Nay,
weigh it well; the issue is not slight.
THESEUS
Thou
meanest that betwixt thy sons and me?
OEDIPUS
Prince,
they would fain convey me back to Thebes.
THESEUS
If
there be no compulsion, then methinks
To rest
in banishment befits not thee.
OEDIPUS
Nay,
when _I_ wished it _they_ would not consent.
THESEUS
For
shame! such temper misbecomes the faller.
OEDIPUS
Chide
if thou wilt, but first attend my plea.
THESEUS
Say on,
I wait full knowledge ere I judge.
OEDIPUS
O
Theseus, I have suffered wrongs on wrongs.
THESEUS
Wouldst
tell the old misfortune of thy race?
OEDIPUS
No,
that has grown a byword throughout Greece.
THESEUS
What
then can be this more than mortal grief?
OEDIPUS
My case
stands thus; by my own flesh and blood
I was
expelled my country, and can ne'er
Thither
return again, a parricide.
THESEUS
Why
fetch thee home if thou must needs obey.
THESEUS
What
are they threatened by the oracle?
OEDIPUS
Destruction
that awaits them in this land.
THESEUS
What
can beget ill blood 'twixt them and me?
OEDIPUS
Dear
son of Aegeus, to the gods alone
Is
given immunity from eld and death;
But
nothing else escapes all-ruinous time.
Earth's
might decays, the might of men decays,
Honor
grows cold, dishonor flourishes,
There
is no constancy 'twixt friend and friend,
Or city
and city; be it soon or late,
Sweet
turns to bitter, hate once more to love.
If now
'tis sunshine betwixt Thebes and thee
And not
a cloud, Time in his endless course
Gives
birth to endless days and nights, wherein
The
merest nothing shall suffice to cut
With
serried spears your bonds of amity.
Then
shall my slumbering and buried corpse