Part 2 out of 4OEDIPUS 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. *It should include the header from the top including small print* SOPHOCLES OEDIPUS AT COLONUS Translation by F. Storr, BA Formerly Scholar of Trinity College, Cambridge From the Loeb Library Edition Originally published by Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA and William Heinemann Ltd, London First published in 1912 ---------------------------------------------------------------------- ARGUMENT Oedipus, the blind and banished King of Thebes, has come in his wanderings to Colonus, a deme of Athens, led by his daughter Antigone. He sits to rest on a rock just within a sacred grove of the Furies and is bidden depart by a passing native. But Oedipus, instructed by an oracle that he had reached his final resting-place, refuses to stir, and the stranger consents to go and consult the Elders of Colonus (the Chorus of the Play). Conducted to the spot they pity at first the blind beggar and his daughter, but on learning his name they are horror-striken and order him to quit the land. He appeals to the world-famed hospitality of Athens and hints at the blessings that his coming will confer on the State. They agree to await the decision of King Theseus. From Theseus Oedipus craves protection in life and burial in Attic soil; the benefits that will accrue shall be told later. Theseus departs having promised to aid and befriend him. No sooner has he gone than Creon enters with an armed guard who seize Antigone and carry her off (Ismene, the other sister, they have already captured) and he is about to lay hands on Oedipus, when Theseus, who has heard the tumult, hurries up and, upbraiding Creon for his lawless act, threatens to detain him till he has shown where the captives are and restored them. In the next scene Theseus returns bringing with him the rescued maidens. He informs Oedipus that a stranger who has taken sanctuary at the altar of Poseidon wishes to see him. It is Polyneices who has come to crave his father's forgiveness and blessing, knowing by an oracle that victory will fall to the side that Oedipus espouses. But Oedipus spurns the hypocrite, and invokes a dire curse on both his unnatural sons. A sudden clap of thunder is heard, and as peal follows peal, Oedipus is aware that his hour is come and bids Antigone summon Theseus. Self-guided he leads the way to the spot where death should overtake him, attended by Theseus and his daughters. Halfway he bids his daughters farewell, and what followed none but Theseus knew. He was not (so the Messenger reports) for the gods took him. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- DRAMATIS PERSONAE OEDIPUS, banished King of Thebes. ANTIGONE, his daughter. ISMENE, his daughter. THESEUS, King of Athens. CREON, brother of Jocasta, now reigning at Thebes. POLYNEICES, elder son of Oedipus. STRANGER, a native of Colonus. MESSENGER, an attendant of Theseus. CHORUS, citizens of Colonus. Scene: In front of the grove of the Eumenides. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- OEDIPUS AT COLONUS Enter the blind OEDIPUS led by his daughter, ANTIGONE. OEDIPUS Child of an old blind sire, Antigone, What region, say, whose city have we reached? Who will provide today with scanted dole This wanderer? 'Tis little that he craves, And less obtains--that less enough for me; For I am taught by suffering to endure, And the long years that have grown old with me, And last not least, by true nobility. My daughter, if thou seest a resting place On common ground or by some sacred grove, Stay me and set me down. Let us discover Where we have come, for strangers must inquire Of denizens, and do as they are bid. ANTIGONE Long-suffering father, Oedipus, the towers That fence the city still are faint and far; But where we stand is surely holy ground; A wilderness of laurel, olive, vine; Within a choir or songster nightingales Are warbling. On this native seat of rock Rest; for an old man thou hast traveled far. OEDIPUS Guide these dark steps and seat me there secure. ANTIGONE If time can teach, I need not to be told. OEDIPUS Say, prithee, if thou knowest, where we are. ANTIGONE Athens I recognize, but not the spot. OEDIPUS That much we heard from every wayfarer. ANTIGONE Shall I go on and ask about the place? OEDIPUS Yes, daughter, if it be inhabited. ANTIGONE Sure there are habitations; but no need To leave thee; yonder is a man hard by. OEDIPUS What, moving hitherward and on his way? ANTIGONE Say rather, here already. Ask him straight The needful questions, for the man is here. [Enter STRANGER] OEDIPUS O stranger, as I learn from her whose eyes Must serve both her and me, that thou art here Sent by some happy chance to serve our doubts-- STRANGER First quit that seat, then question me at large: The spot thou treadest on is holy ground. OEDIPUS What is the site, to what god dedicate? STRANGER Inviolable, untrod; goddesses, Dread brood of Earth and Darkness, here abide. OEDIPUS Tell me the awful name I should invoke? STRANGER The Gracious Ones, All-seeing, so our folk Call them, but elsewhere other names are rife. OEDIPUS Then may they show their suppliant grace, for I From this your sanctuary will ne'er depart. STRANGER What word is this? OEDIPUS The watchword of my fate. STRANGER Nay, 'tis not mine to bid thee hence without Due warrant and instruction from the State. OEDIPUS Now in God's name, O stranger, scorn me not As a wayfarer; tell me what I crave. STRANGER Ask; your request shall not be scorned by me. OEDIPUS How call you then the place wherein we bide? STRANGER Whate'er I know thou too shalt know; the place Is all to great Poseidon consecrate. Hard by, the Titan, he who bears the torch, Prometheus, has his worship; but the spot Thou treadest, the Brass-footed Threshold named, Is Athens' bastion, and the neighboring lands Claim as their chief and patron yonder knight Colonus, and in common bear his name. Such, stranger, is the spot, to fame unknown, But dear to us its native worshipers. OEDIPUS Thou sayest there are dwellers in these parts? STRANGER Surely; they bear the name of yonder god. OEDIPUS Ruled by a king or by the general voice? STRANGER The lord of Athens is our over-lord. OEDIPUS Who is this monarch, great in word and might? STRANGER Theseus, the son of Aegeus our late king. OEDIPUS Might one be sent from you to summon him? STRANGER Wherefore? To tell him aught or urge his coming? OEDIPUS Say a slight service may avail him much. STRANGER How can he profit from a sightless man? OEDIPUS The blind man's words will be instinct with sight. STRANGER Heed then; I fain would see thee out of harm; For by the looks, marred though they be by fate, I judge thee noble; tarry where thou art, While I go seek the burghers--those at hand, Not in the city. They will soon decide Whether thou art to rest or go thy way. [Exit STRANGER] OEDIPUS Tell me, my daughter, has the stranger gone? ANTIGONE Yes, he has gone; now we are all alone, And thou may'st speak, dear father, without fear. OEDIPUS Stern-visaged queens, since coming to this land First in your sanctuary I bent the knee, Frown not on me or Phoebus, who, when erst He told me all my miseries to come, Spake of this respite after many years, Some haven in a far-off land, a rest Vouchsafed at last by dread divinities. "There," said he, "shalt thou round thy weary life, A blessing to the land wherein thou dwell'st, But to the land that cast thee forth, a curse." And of my weird he promised signs should come, Earthquake, or thunderclap, or lightning flash. And now I recognize as yours the sign That led my wanderings to this your grove; Else had I never lighted on you first, A wineless man on your seat of native rock. O goddesses, fulfill Apollo's word, Grant me some consummation of my life, If haply I appear not all too vile, A thrall to sorrow worse than any slave. Hear, gentle daughters of primeval Night, Hear, namesake of great Pallas; Athens, first Of cities, pity this dishonored shade, The ghost of him who once was Oedipus. ANTIGONE Hush! for I see some grey-beards on their way, Their errand to spy out our resting-place. OEDIPUS I will be mute, and thou shalt guide my steps Into the covert from the public road, Till I have learned their drift. A prudent man Will ever shape his course by what he learns. [Enter CHORUS] CHORUS (Str. 1) Ha! Where is he? Look around! Every nook and corner scan! He the all-presumptuous man, Whither vanished? search the ground! A wayfarer, I ween, A wayfarer, no countryman of ours, That old man must have been; Never had native dared to tempt the Powers, Or enter their demesne, The Maids in awe of whom each mortal cowers, Whose name no voice betrays nor cry, And as we pass them with averted eye, We move hushed lips in reverent piety. But now some godless man, 'Tis rumored, here abides; The precincts through I scan, Yet wot not where he hides, The wretch profane! I search and search in vain. OEDIPUS I am that man; I know you near Ears to the blind, they say, are eyes. CHORUS O dread to see and dread to hear! OEDIPUS Oh sirs, I am no outlaw under ban. CHORUS Who can he be--Zeus save us!--this old man? OEDIPUS No favorite of fate, That ye should envy his estate, O, Sirs, would any happy mortal, say, Grope by the light of other eyes his way, Or face the storm upon so frail a stay? CHORUS (Ant. 1) Wast thou then sightless from thy birth? Evil, methinks, and long Thy pilgrimage on earth. Yet add not curse to curse and wrong to wrong. I warn thee, trespass not Within this hallowed spot, Lest thou shouldst find the silent grassy glade Where offerings are laid, Bowls of spring water mingled with sweet mead. Thou must not stay, Come, come away, Tired wanderer, dost thou heed? (We are far off, but sure our voice can reach.) If aught thou wouldst beseech, Speak where 'tis right; till then refrain from speech. OEDIPUS Daughter, what counsel should we now pursue? ANTIGONE We must obey and do as here they do. OEDIPUS Thy hand then! ANTIGONE Here, O father, is my hand, OEDIPUS O Sirs, if I come forth at your command, Let me not suffer for my confidence. CHORUS (Str. 2) Against thy will no man shall drive thee hence. OEDIPUS Shall I go further? CHORUS Aye. OEDIPUS What further still? CHORUS Lead maiden, thou canst guide him where we will. ANTIGONE [1] * * * * * * OEDIPUS * * * * * * ANTIGONE * * * * * * Follow with blind steps, father, as I lead. OEDIPUS * * * * * * CHORUS In a strange land strange thou art; To her will incline thy heart; Honor whatso'er the State Honors, all she frowns on hate. OEDIPUS Guide me child, where we may range Safe within the paths of right; Counsel freely may exchange Nor with fate and fortune fight. CHORUS (Ant. 2) Halt! Go no further than that rocky floor. OEDIPUS Stay where I now am? CHORUS Yes, advance no more. OEDIPUS May I sit down? CHORUS Move sideways towards the ledge, And sit thee crouching on the scarped edge. ANTIGONE This is my office, father, O incline-- OEDIPUS Ah me! ah me! ANTIGONE Thy steps to my steps, lean thine aged frame on mine. OEDIPUS Woe on my fate unblest! CHORUS Wanderer, now thou art at rest, Tell me of thy birth and home, From what far country art thou come, Led on thy weary way, declare! OEDIPUS Strangers, I have no country. O forbear-- CHORUS What is it, old man, that thou wouldst conceal? OEDIPUS Forbear, nor urge me further to reveal-- CHORUS Why this reluctance? OEDIPUS Dread my lineage. CHORUS Say! OEDIPUS What must I answer, child, ah welladay! CHORUS Say of what stock thou comest, what man's son-- OEDIPUS Ah me, my daughter, now we are undone! ANTIGONE Speak, for thou standest on the slippery verge. OEDIPUS I will; no plea for silence can I urge. CHORUS Will neither speak? Come, Sir, why dally thus! OEDIPUS Know'st one of Laius'-- CHORUS Ha? Who! OEDIPUS Seed of Labdacus-- CHORUS Oh Zeus! OEDIPUS The hapless Oedipus. CHORUS Art he? OEDIPUS Whate'er I utter, have no fear of me. CHORUS Begone! OEDIPUS O wretched me! CHORUS Begone! OEDIPUS O daughter, what will hap anon? CHORUS Forth from our borders speed ye both! OEDIPUS How keep you then your troth? CHORUS Heaven's justice never smites Him who ill with ill requites. But if guile with guile contend, Bane, not blessing, is the end. Arise, begone and take thee hence straightway, Lest on our land a heavier curse thou lay. ANTIGONE O sirs! ye suffered not my father blind, Albeit gracious and to ruth inclined, Knowing the deeds he wrought, not innocent, But with no ill intent; Yet heed a maiden's moan Who pleads for him alone; My eyes, not reft of sight, Plead with you as a daughter's might You are our providence, O make us not go hence! O with a gracious nod Grant us the nigh despaired-of boon we crave? Hear us, O hear, But all that ye hold dear, Wife, children, homestead, hearth and God! Where will you find one, search ye ne'er so well. Who 'scapes perdition if a god impel! CHORUS Surely we pity thee and him alike Daughter of Oedipus, for your distress; But as we reverence the decrees of Heaven We cannot say aught other than we said. OEDIPUS O what avails renown or fair repute? Are they not vanity? For, look you, now Athens is held of States the most devout, Athens alone gives hospitality And shelters the vexed stranger, so men say. Have I found so? I whom ye dislodged First from my seat of rock and now would drive Forth from your land, dreading my name alone; For me you surely dread not, nor my deeds, Deeds of a man more sinned against than sinning, As I might well convince you, were it meet To tell my mother's story and my sire's, The cause of this your fear. Yet am I then A villain born because in self-defense, Striken, I struck the striker back again? E'en had I known, no villainy 'twould prove: But all unwitting whither I went, I went-- To ruin; my destroyers knew it well, Wherefore, I pray you, sirs, in Heaven's name, Even as ye bade me quit my seat, defend me. O pay not a lip service to the gods And wrong them of their dues. Bethink ye well, The eye of Heaven beholds the just of men, And the unjust, nor ever in this world Has one sole godless sinner found escape. Stand then on Heaven's side and never blot Athens' fair scutcheon by abetting wrong. I came to you a suppliant, and you pledged Your honor; O preserve me to the end, O let not this marred visage do me wrong! A holy and god-fearing man is here Whose coming purports comfort for your folk. And when your chief arrives, whoe'er he be, Then shall ye have my story and know all. Meanwhile I pray you do me no despite. CHORUS The plea thou urgest, needs must give us pause, Set forth in weighty argument, but we Must leave the issue with the ruling powers. OEDIPUS Where is he, strangers, he who sways the realm? CHORUS In his ancestral seat; a messenger, The same who sent us here, is gone for him. OEDIPUS And think you he will have such care or thought For the blind stranger as to come himself? CHORUS Aye, that he will, when once he learns thy name. OEDIPUS But who will bear him word! CHORUS The way is long, And many travelers pass to speed the news. Be sure he'll hear and hasten, never fear; So wide and far thy name is noised abroad, That, were he ne'er so spent and loth to move, He would bestir him when he hears of thee. OEDIPUS Well, may he come with blessing to his State And me! Who serves his neighbor serves himself. [2] ANTIGONE Zeus! What is this? What can I say or think? OEDIPUS What now, Antigone? ANTIGONE I see a woman Riding upon a colt of Aetna's breed; She wears for headgear a Thessalian hat To shade her from the sun. Who can it be? She or a stranger? Do I wake or dream? 'This she; 'tis not--I cannot tell, alack; It is no other! Now her bright'ning glance Greets me with recognition, yes, 'tis she, Herself, Ismene! OEDIPUS Ha! what say ye, child? ANTIGONE That I behold thy daughter and my sister, And thou wilt know her straightway by her voice. [Enter ISMENE] ISMENE Father and sister, names to me most sweet, How hardly have I found you, hardly now When found at last can see you through my tears! OEDIPUS Art come, my child? ISMENE O father, sad thy plight! OEDIPUS Child, thou art here? ISMENE Yes, 'twas a weary way. OEDIPUS Touch me, my child. ISMENE I give a hand to both. OEDIPUS O children--sisters! ISMENE O disastrous plight! OEDIPUS Her plight and mine? ISMENE Aye, and my own no less. OEDIPUS What brought thee, daughter? ISMENE Father, care for thee. OEDIPUS A daughter's yearning? ISMENE Yes, and I had news I would myself deliver, so I came With the one thrall who yet is true to me. OEDIPUS Thy valiant brothers, where are they at need? ISMENE They are--enough, 'tis now their darkest hour. OEDIPUS Out on the twain! The thoughts and actions all Are framed and modeled on Egyptian ways. For there the men sit at the loom indoors While the wives slave abroad for daily bread. So you, my children--those whom I behooved To bear the burden, stay at home like girls, While in their stead my daughters moil and drudge, Lightening their father's misery. The one Since first she grew from girlish feebleness To womanhood has been the old man's guide And shared my weary wandering, roaming oft Hungry and footsore through wild forest ways, In drenching rains and under scorching suns, Careless herself of home and ease, if so Her sire might have her tender ministry. And thou, my child, whilom thou wentest forth, Eluding the Cadmeians' vigilance, To bring thy father all the oracles Concerning Oedipus, and didst make thyself My faithful lieger, when they banished me. And now what mission summons thee from home, What news, Ismene, hast thou for thy father? This much I know, thou com'st not empty-handed, Without a warning of some new alarm. ISMENE The toil and trouble, father, that I bore To find thy lodging-place and how thou faredst, I spare thee; surely 'twere a double pain To suffer, first in act and then in telling; 'Tis the misfortune of thine ill-starred sons I come to tell thee. At the first they willed To leave the throne to Creon, minded well Thus to remove the inveterate curse of old, A canker that infected all thy race. But now some god and an infatuate soul Have stirred betwixt them a mad rivalry To grasp at sovereignty and kingly power. Today the hot-branded youth, the younger born, Is keeping Polyneices from the throne, His elder, and has thrust him from the land. The banished brother (so all Thebes reports) Fled to the vale of Argos, and by help Of new alliance there and friends in arms, Swears he will stablish Argos straight as lord Of the Cadmeian land, or, if he fail, Exalt the victor to the stars of heaven. This is no empty tale, but deadly truth, My father; and how long thy agony, Ere the gods pity thee, I cannot tell. OEDIPUS Hast thou indeed then entertained a hope The gods at last will turn and rescue me? ISMENE Yea, so I read these latest oracles. OEDIPUS What oracles? What hath been uttered, child? ISMENE Thy country (so it runs) shall yearn in time To have thee for their weal alive or dead. OEDIPUS And who could gain by such a one as I? ISMENE On thee, 'tis said, their sovereignty depends. OEDIPUS So, when I cease to be, my worth begins. ISMENE The gods, who once abased, uplift thee now. OEDIPUS Poor help to raise an old man fallen in youth. ISMENE Howe'er that be, 'tis for this cause alone That Creon comes to thee--and comes anon. OEDIPUS With what intent, my daughter? Tell me plainly. ISMENE To plant thee near the Theban land, and so Keep thee within their grasp, yet now allow Thy foot to pass beyond their boundaries. OEDIPUS What gain they, if I lay outside? OEDIPUS Thy tomb, If disappointed, brings on them a curse. OEDIPUS It needs no god to tell what's plain to sense. ISMENE Therefore they fain would have thee close at hand, Not where thou wouldst be master of thyself. OEDIPUS Mean they to shroud my bones in Theban dust? ISMENE Nay, father, guilt of kinsman's blood forbids. OEDIPUS Then never shall they be my masters, never! ISMENE Thebes, thou shalt rue this bitterly some day! OEDIPUS When what conjunction comes to pass, my child? ISMENE Thy angry wraith, when at thy tomb they stand. [3] OEDIPUS And who hath told thee what thou tell'st me, child? ISMENE Envoys who visited the Delphic hearth. OEDIPUS Hath Phoebus spoken thus concerning me? ISMENE So say the envoys who returned to Thebes. OEDIPUS And can a son of mine have heard of this? ISMENE Yea, both alike, and know its import well. OEDIPUS They knew it, yet the ignoble greed of rule Outweighed all longing for their sire's return. ISMENE Grievous thy words, yet I must own them true. OEDIPUS Then may the gods ne'er quench their fatal feud, And mine be the arbitrament of the fight, For which they now are arming, spear to spear; That neither he who holds the scepter now May keep this throne, nor he who fled the realm Return again. _They_ never raised a hand, When I their sire was thrust from hearth and home, When I was banned and banished, what recked they? Say you 'twas done at my desire, a grace Which the state, yielding to my wish, allowed? Not so; for, mark you, on that very day When in the tempest of my soul I craved Death, even death by stoning, none appeared To further that wild longing, but anon, When time had numbed my anguish and I felt My wrath had all outrun those errors past, Then, then it was the city went about By force to oust me, respited for years; And then my sons, who should as sons have helped, Did nothing: and, one little word from them Was all I needed, and they spoke no word, But let me wander on for evermore, A banished man, a beggar. These two maids Their sisters, girls, gave all their sex could give, Food and safe harborage and filial care; While their two brethren sacrificed their sire For lust of power and sceptred sovereignty. No! me they ne'er shall win for an ally, Nor will this Theban kingship bring them gain; That know I from this maiden's oracles, And those old prophecies concerning me, Which Phoebus now at length has brought to pass. Come Creon then, come all the mightiest In Thebes to seek me; for if ye my friends, Championed by those dread Powers indigenous, Espouse my cause; then for the State ye gain A great deliverer, for my foemen bane. CHORUS Our pity, Oedipus, thou needs must move, Thou and these maidens; and the stronger plea Thou urgest, as the savior of our land, Disposes me to counsel for thy weal. OEDIPUS Aid me, kind sirs; I will do all you bid. CHORUS First make atonement to the deities, Whose grove by trespass thou didst first profane. OEDIPUS After what manner, stranger? Teach me, pray. CHORUS Make a libation first of water fetched With undefiled hands from living spring. OEDIPUS And after I have gotten this pure draught? CHORUS Bowls thou wilt find, the carver's handiwork; Crown thou the rims and both the handles crown-- OEDIPUS With olive shoots or blocks of wool, or how? CHORUS With wool from fleece of yearling freshly shorn. OEDIPUS What next? how must I end the ritual? CHORUS Pour thy libation, turning to the dawn. OEDIPUS Pouring it from the urns whereof ye spake? CHORUS Yea, in three streams; and be the last bowl drained To the last drop. OEDIPUS And wherewith shall I fill it, Ere in its place I set it? This too tell. CHORUS With water and with honey; add no wine. OEDIPUS And when the embowered earth hath drunk thereof? CHORUS Then lay upon it thrice nine olive sprays With both thy hands, and offer up this prayer. OEDIPUS I fain would hear it; that imports the most. CHORUS That, as we call them Gracious, they would deign To grant the suppliant their saving grace. So pray thyself or whoso pray for thee, In whispered accents, not with lifted voice; Then go and look back. Do as I bid, And I shall then be bold to stand thy friend; Else, stranger, I should have my fears for thee. OEDIPUS Hear ye, my daughters, what these strangers say? ANTIGONE We listened, and attend thy bidding, father. OEDIPUS I cannot go, disabled as I am Doubly, by lack of strength and lack of sight; But one of you may do it in my stead; For one, I trow, may pay the sacrifice Of thousands, if his heart be leal and true. So to your work with speed, but leave me not Untended; for this frame is all too week To move without the help of guiding hand. ISMENE Then I will go perform these rites, but where To find the spot, this have I yet to learn. CHORUS Beyond this grove; if thou hast need of aught, The guardian of the close will lend his aid. ISMENE I go, and thou, Antigone, meanwhile Must guard our father. In a parent's cause Toil, if there be toil, is of no account. [Exit ISMENE] CHORUS (Str. 1) Ill it is, stranger, to awake Pain that long since has ceased to ache, And yet I fain would hear-- OEDIPUS What thing? CHORUS Thy tale of cruel suffering For which no cure was found, The fate that held thee bound. OEDIPUS O bid me not (as guest I claim This grace) expose my shame. CHORUS The tale is bruited far and near, And echoes still from ear to ear. The truth, I fain would hear. OEDIPUS Ah me! CHORUS I prithee yield. OEDIPUS Ah me! CHORUS Grant my request, I granted all to thee. OEDIPUS (Ant. 1) Know then I suffered ills most vile, but none (So help me Heaven!) from acts in malice done. CHORUS Say how. OEDIPUS The State around An all unwitting bridegroom bound An impious marriage chain; That was my bane. CHORUS Didst thou in sooth then share A bed incestuous with her that bare-- OEDIPUS It stabs me like a sword, That two-edged word, O stranger, but these maids--my own-- CHORUS Say on. OEDIPUS Two daughters, curses twain. CHORUS Oh God! OEDIPUS Sprang from the wife and mother's travail-pain. CHORUS (Str. 2) What, then thy offspring are at once-- OEDIPUS Too true. Their father's very sister's too. CHORUS Oh horror! OEDIPUS Horrors from the boundless deep Back on my soul in refluent surges sweep. CHORUS Thou hast endured-- OEDIPUS Intolerable woe. CHORUS And sinned-- OEDIPUS I sinned not. CHORUS How so? OEDIPUS I served the State; would I had never won That graceless grace by which I was undone. CHORUS (Ant. 2) And next, unhappy man, thou hast shed blood? OEDIPUS Must ye hear more? CHORUS A father's? OEDIPUS Flood on flood Whelms me; that word's a second mortal blow. CHORUS Murderer! OEDIPUS Yes, a murderer, but know-- CHORUS What canst thou plead? OEDIPUS A plea of justice. CHORUS How? OEDIPUS I slew who else would me have slain; I slew without intent, A wretch, but innocent In the law's eye, I stand, without a stain. CHORUS Behold our sovereign, Theseus, Aegeus' son, Comes at thy summons to perform his part. [Enter THESEUS] THESEUS Oft had I heard of thee in times gone by-- The bloody mutilation of thine eyes-- And therefore know thee, son of Laius. All that I lately gathered on the way Made my conjecture doubly sure; and now Thy garb and that marred visage prove to me That thou art he. So pitying thine estate, Most ill-starred Oedipus, I fain would know What is the suit ye urge on me and Athens, Thou and the helpless maiden at thy side. Declare it; dire indeed must be the tale Whereat _I_ should recoil. I too was reared, Like thee, in exile, and in foreign lands Wrestled with many perils, no man more. Wherefore no alien in adversity Shall seek in vain my succor, nor shalt thou; I know myself a mortal, and my share In what the morrow brings no more than thine. OEDIPUS Theseus, thy words so apt, so generous So comfortable, need no long reply Both who I am and of what lineage sprung, And from what land I came, thou hast declared. So without prologue I may utter now My brief petition, and the tale is told. THESEUS Say on, and tell me what I fain would learn. OEDIPUS I come to offer thee this woe-worn frame, A gift 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 In its cold grave drink their warm life-blood up, If Zeus be Zeus and Phoebus still speak true. No more: 'tis ill to tear aside the veil Of mysteries; let me cease as I began: Enough if thou wilt keep thy plighted troth, Then shall thou ne'er complain that Oedipus Proved an unprofitable and thankless guest, Except the gods themselves shall play me false. CHORUS The man, my lord, has from the very first Declared his power to offer to our land These and like benefits. THESEUS Who could reject The proffered amity of such a friend? First, he can claim the hospitality To which by mutual contract we stand pledged: Next, coming here, a suppliant to the gods, He pays full tribute to the State and me; His favors therefore never will I spurn, But grant him the full rights of citizen; And, if it suits the stranger here to bide, I place him in your charge, or if he please Rather to come with me--choose, Oedipus, Which of the two thou wilt. Thy choice is mine. OEDIPUS Zeus, may the blessing fall on men like these! THESEUS What dost thou then decide--to come with me? OEDIPUS Yea, were it lawful--but 'tis rather here-- THESEUS What wouldst thou here? I shall not thwart thy wish. OEDIPUS Here shall I vanquish those who cast me forth. THESEUS Then were thy presence here a boon indeed. OEDIPUS Such shall it prove, if thou fulfill'st thy pledge. THESEUS Fear not for me; I shall not play thee false. OEDIPUS No need to back thy promise with an oath. THESEUS An oath would be no surer than my word. OEDIPUS How wilt thou act then? THESEUS What is it thou fear'st? OEDIPUS My foes will come-- THESEUS Our friends will look to that. OEDIPUS But if thou leave me? THESEUS Teach me not my duty. OEDIPUS 'Tis fear constrains me. THESEUS _My_ soul knows no fear! OEDIPUS Thou knowest not what threats-- THESEUS I know that none Shall hale thee hence in my despite. Such threats Vented in anger oft, are blusterers, An idle breath, forgot when sense returns. And for thy foemen, though their words were brave, Boasting to bring thee back, they are like to find The seas between us wide and hard to sail. Such my firm purpose, but in any case Take heart, since Phoebus sent thee here. My name, Though I be distant, warrants thee from harm. CHORUS (Str. 1) Thou hast come to a steed-famed land for rest, O stranger worn with toil, To a land of all lands the goodliest Colonus' glistening soil. 'Tis the haunt of the clear-voiced nightingale, Who hid in her bower, among The wine-dark ivy that wreathes the vale, Trilleth her ceaseless song; And she loves, where the clustering berries nod O'er a sunless, windless glade, The spot by no mortal footstep trod, The pleasance kept for the Bacchic god, Where he holds each night his revels wild With the nymphs who fostered the lusty child. (Ant. 1) And fed each morn by the pearly dew The starred narcissi shine, And a wreath with the crocus' golden hue For the Mother and Daughter twine. And never the sleepless fountains cease That feed Cephisus' stream, But they swell earth's bosom with quick increase, And their wave hath a crystal gleam. And the Muses' quire will never disdain To visit this heaven-favored plain, Nor the Cyprian queen of the golden rein. (Str. 2) And here there grows, unpruned, untamed, Terror to foemen's spear, A tree in Asian soil unnamed, By Pelops' Dorian isle unclaimed, Self-nurtured year by year; 'Tis the grey-leaved olive that feeds our boys; Nor youth nor withering age destroys The plant that the Olive Planter tends And the Grey-eyed Goddess herself defends. (Ant. 2) Yet another gift, of all gifts the most Prized by our fatherland, we boast-- The might of the horse, the might of the sea; Our fame, Poseidon, we owe to thee, Son of Kronos, our king divine, Who in these highways first didst fit For the mouth of horses the iron bit; Thou too hast taught us to fashion meet For the arm of the rower the oar-blade fleet, Swift as the Nereids' hundred feet As they dance along the brine. ANTIGONE Oh land extolled above all lands, 'tis now For thee to make these glorious titles good. OEDIPUS Why this appeal, my daughter? ANTIGONE Father, lo! Creon approaches with his company. OEDIPUS Fear not, it shall be so; if we are old, This country's vigor has no touch of age. [Enter CREON with attendants] CREON Burghers, my noble friends, ye take alarm At my approach (I read it in your eyes), Fear nothing and refrain from angry words. I come with no ill purpose; I am old, And know the city whither I am come, Without a peer amongst the powers of Greece. It was by reason of my years that I Was chosen to persuade your guest and bring Him back to Thebes; not the delegate Of one man, but commissioned by the State, Since of all Thebans I have most bewailed,
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