Oedipus King of Thebes Oedipus KING OF THEBES. WHY, O my sons, ye youthful progeny Of Cadmus old, why have you here your seats Holding these suppliant boughs, whilst incense fumes Through all the town, and sacred songs and cries Resound? No vulgar messenger I send, But deem it worthy the illustrious name Of Edipus to learn the cause of this In person. Speak then thou, whose reverend age Claims this respect; inform me what your state, Your fears or sufferings; in each point my will Is prompt to succour: ruthless were my heart, Did it not melt with pity at this sight. Priest Sovereign of Thebes, imperial Edipus,... Thou seest us what we are, who sit thus low Before thy altars; some whose unfledged wings Bear them not far; and some who bend beneath The weight of age, Priests these, myself the Priest Of Jupiter; and some, the noblest youths, The flow'r of Thebes. Her other sons arranged Along the forum hold their suppliant boughs, And at Minerva's temples, and the shrine Prophetic nigh Ismenus: for the state, Thine eyes behold it, labours in the storm, Unable from the blood-stain'd wave to rear Her head: her opening buds unfruitful fall, Scorch'd by the baneful blasts: her pastured herds Perish, her infants perish ere the birth. Incumbent o'er the town destructive hangs The fiery pestilence, beneath whose force Thebes becomes desolate; with sighs and groans Mean while the gloomy Pluto is enrich'd. Now at thy altars sit I, and these youths, Not that we deem thee equal to the gods, But 'midst th' afflicting accidents of life, Or sufferings sent from heav'n, the first of men. For thou at Thebes arriving didst redeem. The city from the tribute which we paid To the harsh-screaming monster, not inform'd By us, or counsell'd; no, with higher thought We deem thee by some god inspired to raise Our state to life. And now, most potent king, Thus prostrate at thy feet we all implore Thy aid; for our distress find some relief, Attending to some god's oracular voice, Or by some sage instructed; for I see The counsels of th' experienced give fresh life Since now E'en in calamities. Thou best of men, Go on, th' afflicted city once more raise; Go on, and prudence be thy guide. This country for thy former generous deeds Hails thee as her preserver, of thy reign Let us not hold this memory, that by thee From ruin raised, by sad reverse at last We sink in ruin; but once more this state Restore to safety; as thou gavest us then With happy auspices fair fortune, now Be like thyself. More glorious wilt thou reign O'er peopled, than o'er desolated realms : The strong-ribb'd galley, and the rampired tow'r, Their martial youth if wanting, nought avail. Oedipus O my lamented sons, for ills well known To me you seek redress; I know that grief Hangs heavy on you all, but most on me: His private sufferings each bewails; but I Mourn for the city, for myself, and you. I want no voice to rouse me; many tears These eyes have pour'd, with many anxious thoughts My breast has labour'd, tracing various ways For your relief. That, which alone could give Hope of success, I follow'd; I have sent Creon whose veins are rich with royal blood, Son of Menæceus, to the Pythian shrine Of Phœbus, to inquire what I must do To save this city. As I number back The days since past, I marvel; for his stay Exceeds just expectation. When he comes, If I perform not what the god directs, May I be deem'd the vilest of mankind. Of happy presage are thy words: these youths Show me that Creon hither bends his steps. Oedipus Royal Apollo, may he bring success And safety, as it brightens in his eye! Cheerful indeed his aspect; else his head With wreaths of laurel had not thus been crown'd. CDIP. Soon shall we know; he now may be address'd. CDIP. Son of Menæceus, to the royal blood Allied, what answer bring'st thou from the god ? Creon Of good I have to tell thee: all our ill May, if directed well, find happy end. Oedipus Relate his words distinctly; for thy speech Nor gives me confidence, nor wakes my fears. Creon By these encircled wou'dst thou hear, I stand Ready to speak, or to retire apart. Oedipus Speak to them all; for dearer than my life Creon I prize the means to remedy their grief. Then let me speak what from the god I heard. The royal Phœbus gave us clear command Hence the pollution of our realm to drive, Now nourish'd in the bosom of the land, Nor cherish an immedicable ill. Oedipus What the offence? the expiation what? Creon By exile, or by death avenging death; For this blood desolates the suffering land. Oedipus At whose disastrous fortune doth this point? Once, ere the empire of this state was thine, Laius, O king, was sovereign lord of Thebes. Oedipus This from the voice of fame hath reach'd my ears, But Laius never did mine eyes behold. His death the god with no ambiguous voice' Commands us on his murderers to avenge. Creon CDIP. Where are they? By what methods may be found The faint-mark'd footsteps of this long-past guilt ? Creon This country holds them, said the god. Pursuit May overtake what through neglect escapes. Oedipus Beneath some roof, or in the open fields, Or in some foreign land was Laius slain? Creon Hence to consult the oracle he went, And never to his royal house return'd. Oedipus Did none return, none of his train, who saw His death, of whom inquiry may be made ? Creon All fell, save one; who, flying wild with fear, Of what he saw one thing alone could tell. Oedipus Say what; for one thing, if we gain a gleam Of hope, may lead us to discover more. Creon That, met by ruffians, not by one man's force He fell, but by a numerous band oppress'd. Oedipus How should the ruffian, if not bribed with gold From hence, presume t' attempt this daring deed? Creon Not unsuspected this: but 'midst our ills None to avenge the death of Laius rose. Oedipus What pressing ill, your monarch murder'd thus, Restrain'd you, that inquiry was not made? Creon The dark-descanting Sphinx from things unseen Forced our attention to more instant ills. Oedipus But I will bring them into light again From their first cause. Of Phœbus for the dead This zeal is worthy, worthy too of thee; And me confederate in the same just cause You shall behold; this country and the god I will avenge. Not for some distant friend, Chorus But for myself, this execrable guilt Be it my care to crush: for the same hand, That murder'd him, may soon be raised to plunge With the same rage the falchion in my breast; Therefore avenging him I guard myself. But rise, my children, from your lowly seats With speed, and bear these suppliant branches hence. Hither th' assembled sons of Thebes convene: My pow'r shall be exerted; and once more Will we, confiding in the favouring god, Together prosper, or together fall. Let us arise, my sons: our sovereign grants The grace we came to ask; and may the god, Who sent this answer from his hallow'd shrine, Preserve us, and this wasting pest avert! Thou oracle of Jove, what fate From Pytho's golden shrine Brings to th' illustrious Theban state Thy sweet-breathed voice divine ? My trembling heart what terror rends, While dread suspense on thee attends, fian, that murdered Laius, might, if he were permitted to go unpunished, murder him. Βγ τῶν ἀπωτέρω φίλων, " some distant friend," he points to Laius; the expression is indeed indefinite, but it was neither necessary nor proper that it should be more distinctly marked; with regard to Laius thus far Edipus had been very cold and indifferent. Greef-soothing god of wine and joy; Wave thy bright torch, and with its flame This god, to gods an odious name, This lurid Pest destroy ! Oedipus Well are thy vows address'd; nor vain those vows, But of much force, and lenient of our ills, Wou'dst thou with deep regard attend my words, Which I, to each related circumstance A stranger, and a stranger to the deed, Shall speak; for far my search could not extend, Having no mark to guide my steps. But now A Theban late enroll'd, to all of Thebes I give this charge. Whoe'er among you knows By whom the son of Labdacus was slain, Him I command t' unfold the whole to me. But if, through conscious guilt, he fears t' avow The deed, and charge himself; no harsher doom Awaits him, than to leave this land, unhurt. But if among you be a man, who knows Another, of another realm, whose hand Was with this blood polluted, let him speak, And not conceal the murderer; for from me Ample shall be his recompense, and thanks Added besides. But if ye will not speak, If fearing for himself, or for a friend, There be a man that disregards my words, What then shall be my solemn mandate hear. That man let none within this realm, whose throne, Whose empire I command, beneath his roof The altars round a mournful band, The wives, the hoary matrons, stand, And heave the suppliant sigh. With deep sighs mix'd the hallow'd strain Bursts fervent to the skies : Deign then, O radiant Pallas, deign In all thy might to rise. From this fierce pow'r which raging round Unarm'd inflicts thy fiery wound, Daughter of Jove, my country save; Hence, goddess, hence the fury sweep To Amphitrite's chambers deep, Or the rough Euxine wave! Doth aught the Night from ruin spare? The Morning's sickly ray, Pregnant with death, inflames the air, And gives disease its prey, Father of gods, whose matchless force Wings the red lightning's vengeful course, With all thy thunders crush this foe! Potent to aid, Lycéan king, Thy shafts secure of conquest wing, And bend thy golden bow! Thy beams around, Diana, throw, And pierce this gloom of night, As on Lyceum's moss-clad brow Thou pour'st thy silver light! Thy nymphs, O Theban Bacchus lead, The golden mitre round thy head, Greef-soothing god of wine and joy; Wave thy bright torch, and with its flame This god, to gods an odious name, This lurid Pest destroy ! Oedipus Well are thy vows address'd; nor vain those vows, But of much force, and lenient of our ills, Wou'dst thou with deep regard attend my words, Which I, to each related circumstance A stranger, and a stranger to the deed, Shall speak; for far my search could not extend, Having no mark to guide my steps. But now A Theban late enroll'd, to all of Thebes I give this charge. Whoe'er among you knows By whom the son of Labdacus was slain, Him I command t' unfold the whole to me. But if, through conscious guilt, he fears t' avow The deed, and charge himself; no harsher doom Awaits him, than to leave this land, unhurt. But if among you be a man, who knows Another, of another realm, whose hand Was with this blood polluted, let him speak, And not conceal the murderer; for from me Ample shall be his recompense, and thanks Added besides. But if ye will not speak, If fearing for himself, or for a friend, There be a man that disregards my words, What then shall be my solemn mandate hear. That man let none within this realm, whose throne, Whose empire I command, beneath his roof The same Receive, let none hold converse with him, none Admit him at the altars of the gods His vows, his offerings to partake, or share The cleansing laver; from your houses all Chase this pollution of our land; for thus To me the Pythian oracle declared Its will; thus therefore with the god I join Confederate, and the dead. But on the wretch Who did the deed, whether he lies conceal'd A single ruffian, or with many leagued, I imprecate this curse; his wretched days, Cut off from all the social joys of life, Let him wear out in misery. In my house If I protect him, conscious of the deed, May all these curses fall on me. I charge on you; make you these solemn vows, In zeal for me, for Phœbus, and this land Thus of its fruits, and its protecting gods Bereft. Nor ought we, though no voice divine Impell'd us, unatoned to leave the blood Of one so noble, of a monarch slain. To trace this murderous deed my fortune now Assigns to me, for mine the regal pow'r Which once was his; his bed, his wife is mine; Our children too, but that the adverse gods Denied him children, had in common ties Been close conjoin'd: but now disastrous fate Hath burst upon his head. Therefore for him, As for my father, vengeful will I rise, Unwearied in th' attempt to find the man That slew the son of Labdacus, whose blood From Polydorus its illustrious 'stream Derived, from Cadmus, and Agenor old. To those who act not thus, I pray the gods That the till'd earth may never yield its fruits, And barren be their bed; beneath the ills, Which now oppress us, let them waste, and feel A fate yet more severe. But to the sons Of Thebes, who with applause these things receive, May justice join her aid, and all the gods Be present always with propitious pow'r! Chorus As solemnly by thee adjured, O king, So will I speak. I neither murder'd him, Nor can disclose the murderer: to the god, Who charged that this inquiry should be made, Belongs it to declare who did the deed. Oedipus Well hast thou said: but to compel the gods Against their will no mortal man has pow'r. Chorus What more my thought suggests I would propose. Oedipus Whate'er it be, forbear not thou to speak. Chorus Next to th' illustrious god I am assured These things th' illustrious Seer, Tiresias, knows Consulting him, O king, thou may'st obtain In matters most obscure the clearest light. Oedipus Nor this have I neglected, but have sent, Twice sent, by Creon prompted, to require His presence: strange and tedious his delay. Chorus Uncertain are the rumours spread of old. Oedipus What are they? My regard each rumour claims. Chorus They say that by some travellers he fell. Oedipus This I have heard; who saw it none can say. Chorus If fear can touch his heart, when he shall hear Thy imprecations, he will shrink at them. Oedipus The deed who fear'd not, will not shrink at words. Chorus Here comes who will convict him; for they lead The reverend Seer, in whom, of mortal men Alone, from inborn knowledge truth shines clear. Oedipus ŒDIPUS, TIRESIAS, CHORUS. sage Tiresias, whose enlighten'd mind Notes all things, whether such as may be taught To mortals, or require the sacred seal Of silence, things of heav'n, or things of earth, Though quench'd thy visual beam, yet not unknown To thee the baleful pestilence that wastes The city; from whose rage our sole relief, Our sole defence, illustrious Seer, is found In thee; for Phœbus, though perchance thine ear His mandate hath not reach'd, thus gave response Tiresias To our inquiries, that this pest shall hence Alone its ravage cease, if, clearly known The murderers of Laius, we avenge On them, by exile or by death, his blood. Refuse not then, from what of augury From birds on wing thou draw'st, or from aught else Of thy prophetic art, to save thyself, To save the city; save me too, and put All the pollution of the dead away. In thee are all our hopes: t' exert his pow'r In doing good is man's most glorious task. Alas, alas, how dreadful to be wise, From wisdom when no profit is derived! Mine is this knowledge, fatal to thy peace. I should not then have come. What may this mean? And why this gloomy sadness on thy brow? Dismiss me to my house; thy llls more light Wilt thou sustain, I mine, this grace obtain'd. Oedipus TIR. TIR. TIR. Nor just, nor friendly to thy country thou, Thus to deprive her of thy sage advice. Nothing of good to thee thy speech, I see, Portends: of ill productive be not mine. Chorus Now by the gods, whate'er thy wisdom knows Suppress it not, we suppliant all implore. For you are all unwise. Ne'er shall my voice For this find utterance, nor disclose thy ills. MEDIP. To know, and not to speak! Implies not this Treachery to us, and ruin to the realm? TIR. My peace I will not hurt, nor thine. In vain Why wilt thou urge? From me thou shalt not know. Oedipus TIR. Thou vilest of the vile---for thou wou'dst raise Th' insensate rock to rage---wilt thou not speak, But show thyself unfeeling and unmoved? Tiresias TIR. My passion thou hast blamed; but dost not see That which with thee resides, while me thou blamest. Oedipus Who would not be enraged to hear thy words, Which cast dishonour on this injured state? Tiresias TIR. These things will come, though silent be my voice. Oedipus Then what will come, to me thou shou'dst disclose. Further I will not speak; so let thy rage, Tiresias If such thy will, in all its fierceness rise. Oedipus TIR. Then I will speak, as anger prompts my tongue, Withuot reserve whate'er my thoughts suggest. Know then I deem thee complice in this act; I deem the deed was thine, save that thy hand Struck not the blow: hadst thou enjoy'd thy sight, Tiresias I should pronounce the act were thine alone. Indeed! Nay then I warn thee to abide By thine own solemn charge, and from this day Hold converse nor with these, nor me; for thou Art the accurs'd polluter of this land. Oedipus TIR. Hast thou no sense of shame, that thou hast dared Utter such taunt? How think'st thou to escape? I have escaped, e'en by the potent truth Which I maintain. By whom hast thou been taught? Not by thy art divine. By thee, constrain'd Unwillingly to speak. Tiresias What? Speak the words Again; my knowledge so will be more clear. TIR. Were they abstruse ? Or dost thou bid me speak To try me? Not to speak it as a thing Known; yet repeat thy words. Again I say Thou art the much-sought murderer of the king. Oedipus TIR. TIR. TIR. Thou shalt not triumph for this second taunt. TIR. More shalt I speak then, and enrage thee more? Tiresias EPID. Say what thou wilt, it will be said in vain. I say flagitious is thy intercourse With those most dear to thee; thou know'st not this, Nor seest the ills in which thou art involved. Oedipus TIR. Think'st thou no vengeance such reproach awaits ? Tiresias TIR.. I have no fear, if truth hath aught of pow'r. Oedipus It hath, but not for thee; it is not thine; Thy ears, thy soul, e'en as thine eyes, are blind. Tiresias Unhappy thou in thus reproaching me, For soon on thee the same reproach shall fall. Oedipus TIR. Confiding in thy blindness thou from me, Or any that have eyes, no vengeance fearest. Tiresias TIR. To fall by thee is not my fate; those things Belong to Phœbus; ample is his pow'r. Oedipus The fiction this of Creon, or thine own? Tiresias Creon ne'er wrought thee ill: the work is thine. Oedipus TIR. O greatness, empire, and thou noblest art That giv'st to life its glory most desired, What baleful envy on your splendour waits, Since for this royal pow'r by me unsought, But by the state presented a free gift, The faithful Creon, who the first appear'd My friend, with dark and secret malice works, Wishing my ruin, and suborns this wretch, This sorcerer, this artificer of wiles, Whose trains delude the people, sharp of sight To lucre only, to his science blind. Where hast thou e'er display'd a prophet's skill ? Why, when the ravening hound of hell her charm Mysterious chanted, for thy country wise Didst thou not solve it? Of no vulgar mind Was this the task; the prophet this required. No knowledge then from birds didst thou receive, None from the gods t' enfold it: but I came, This nothing-knowing Edipus, and quell'd The monster, piercing through her dark device By reason's force, not taught by flight of birds. Yet dost thou now assay to drive me out, Weening to have thy stand next Creon's throne. But thou, and he who form'd this base design With thee, shall feel my pow'r: but that thine age Some reverence claims, thou shou'dst e'en now be taught, And feel the madness of thine enterprise. Chorus If we conjecture right, his words burst forth By passion dictated; and thine, O king, No less: these things behove not; best advise How to explore the answer of the god. Thou art a king; yet I have equal right Tiresias To answer thee; this pow'r is mine; to these I am no vassal; Phœbus is my lord : Nor will I be enroll'd amongst those who wait On Creon for support. I tell thee then, Me since with taunts thou hast reviled as blind, Thou hast indeed thine eyes, yet canst not see What ills inclose thee round, nor where thou hast Thy habitation, nor with whom thou livest. Know'st thou who gave thee birth? Thou art a foe, And know'st it not, to those allied to thee Most closely, whom the realms beneath contain, And who behold the light of heav'n. The curse Of father and of mother on each side With dreadful steps pursues thee, and ere long Will chase thee from this land, now blest with sight, Then blind. How will Cithæron, how each strand Ere long re-echo to thy mournful cries, When thou shalt know that, driv'n by swelling gales, The port of marriage thou hast gain'd, thy bark Where anchor cannot hold! The numerous train Of other ills thou seest not which will rank In the same line thee and thy sons alike. Go to; with foul revilings Creon taunt, And my true voice; yet thing more vile than thou Is not 'mong mortals that shall e'er be crush'd. Oedipus TIR. From him these piercing insults must I bear? Perdition on thee! hence, away, begone. Tiresias TIR. I had not come, hadst thou not sent for me. Oedipus I knew thee not in speech so void of sense, Or here thy presence I had scarce required. Tiresias TIR. Such thou may'st deem my spirit, void of sense: But they, who gave thee birth, esteem'd me wise. Oedipus Who are they? Stay. Of those that breathe to whom Owe I my birth? Tiresias Thy birth this day will show, This day will show the horrors of thy fate. Oedipus TIR. How dark, how full of mystery all thy words! Tiresias Such to unfold well suits thy piercing mind. Oedipus TIR. TIR. TIR. My glory thou wou'dst turn to my reproach. Tiresias TIR. That glory hath brought ruin on thy head. Oedipus If I have saved this realm, I reck not that. Tiresias Well then, I now depart. Boy, lead me hence. Oedipus Ay, let him lead thee; for thy presence throws Confusion on th' affairs that now engage Tiresias Our care: begone, and trouble us no more. I go: but first will speak for what I came, Nor dread thy frown; thy vengeance hath no pow'r To touch my life. I tell thee that the man, Whom thou hast sought, 'gainst whom thy solemn charge, Thy threats have been proclaim'd, that man is here; Of foreign birth now deem'd, his residence Here fixing; but full soon he shall be found A Theban born, nor in his fortune long Rejoice; his visual ray in darkness quench'd, His high state sunk to beggary, a staff Shall to a foreign land his steps direct. A brother and a father to his sons Shall he appear; to her, that gave him birth, A son and husband; to his father found A rival and a murderer. Go thou in; Muse on these things; say, if thou find them false, No portion of a prophet's skill is mine. Chorus STRO. 1. All yet is dark. What wretch abhorr'd, Grasping with blood-stain'd hand his ruthless sword, From Delphi's high rock-seated shrine Declares the voice divine The author of this horrid deed? Now let him wing his swiftest speed; The son of Jove upon him flies, Arm'd with the flames and lightenings of the skies : Dreadful, resistless in their force The Fates attend his course. The oracle divinely bright To drag the latent murderer into light Shone forth, Parnassus, from thy brow White with eternal snow: For, like a bull, to secret shades, To rocks, to caves, to sylvan glades, Far from the Pythian prophecies Mournful the solitary wanderer flies: In vain: they hover round his head, And ceaseless terrors spread. Dreadful, dreadful things to hear Utters the prophetic Seer. Him doth truth, doth falsehood guide? Fear and hope my soul divide; Painful suspense! The present and the past Darkening clouds alike o'ercast. Was wrong by Laius done of old, That made the son of Polybus his foe? Such in no record is enroll'd; Nought at this hour of proof I know, Decreeing as the Seer decreed, To charge on Edipus the secret deed. Creon ANTIS. 1. STRO. 2. ANTIS. 2. Jove, high ruler of the skies, And the Pythian god are wise ; They the deeds of mortals know, All whate'er is done below : Of knowledge doth the Seer a brighter ray, Than illumines me, display? Some deeper drink of wisdom's spring; But proofs, that flash conviction I demand. The Sphinx display'd her dreadful wing, His wisdom saved the sinking land; Then let my grateful soul disdain To rank the hero with the murderer's train. Ye citizens of Thebes, th' atrocious crime, Charged on me by the royal Edipus, Hath reach'd my ear: my soul disdains the charge. If in the present ills he deems that aught Of injury to him by word or deed By me hath been attempted, let me breathe This vital air no longer, such ill fame Sustaining: for no trivial damage brings This accusation, but of import high To me, if I shall be reputed base By thee, and by my friends, and by the state. Chorus CREON, CHORUS. From violence of passion this reproach Creon Haply burst forth, more than from sober thought. Whence his persuasion that the Seer, with me In compact, to these falsehoods train'd his tongue? Chorus Such things were said, I know not with what thought. Roll'd his eye wild, disorder'd seem'd his sense, Against me when this hated charge was urged? Chorus I know not; for it is not mine to see What princes do. But this way comes the king. Oedipus Darest thou come hither? In thy insolence Art thou so harden'd, as again to tread My courts, detected in thy base design To murder me, and from my brows to rend The regal crown? Now tell me, by the gods, Hast thou mark'd in me aught of cowardice Or folly, that encouraged thee to form Such daring thoughts? Or deem'st thou that the deed, Creeping with dark insidious step, mine eye Would not observe; or if observed, my hand Would not chastise? How frentic thy attempt, Nor friends nor forces thine, at sovereign pow'r, By multitudes and treasures gain'd, to aim? Know'st thou what thou wou'dst do? To my reply Give an impartial hearing: learn, then judge. Oedipus Potent art thou in speech, but I unapt To learn from thee, my dark and deadly foe. Creon To this now hear me what I first reply. Oedipus But this reply not, that thou art not base. Creon If thou canst think a self-will'd petulance, Devoid of reason, good, thou art not wise. Oedipus If thou canst think no vengeance will pursue Injustice to a friend, thou art not wise. Creon This, I allow, is just; but why alleged? Show me what wrong thou hast received from me. Oedipus Was it not thy suggestion, thy advice, That I should send to this all-honour'd Seer? Creon It was: my judgment yet remains unchanged. Oedipus What time hath pass'd since Laius by the hands Of ruffians fell? Creon We may trace back a length Of distant time. Oedipus And was this prophet then Famed for his skill? Creon For wisdom as renown'd As now, and highly honour'd. Oedipus At that time Made he of me no mention? Creon None: not once When I was present. Oedipus Made you then no search To trace this bloody deed? Creon We did: but vain Our anxious care. Oedipus Why did not then this Seer Declare these things? Creon I know not; and on points Unknown I would be silent. Oedipus But one point, Thy own concern, is not to thee unknown; And this thou canst disclose. Creon What is it? Speak; For nothing known to me will I deny. Oedipus Were he not basely leagued with thee, he ne'er Had said that Laius by my hand was slain. Creon If he saith this, thou know'st. I claim the right To question thee, as thou hast question'd me. Oedipus Ask what thou wilt; I never shall be found A blood-stain'd murderer. Creon Is my sister thine, By nuptial ties united ? Oedipus Thou hast ask'd What will not be denied. Creon Dost thou not share With her the sovereign pow'r? Oedipus All that is mine I to her will devote. Creon Is not my seat The highest, next your throne ? Oedipus And for that cause Creon Dost thou appear a base and faithless friend. Not so; wou'dst thou, like me, with temperate thought Ponder things well. For first reflect, what man Would choose to be a king, with all the fears On royalty awaiting, might he sleep Secure of fear, yet kingly pow'r possess ? It is not in my nature, nor in his Who knows what wisdom is, to form a wish To be a monarch, rather than to use A monarch's potency. All things from thee I now obtain, nor feel the pangs of fear. Were I a king, I should do many things Against my will: can then the regal state Be sweeter to me than my princely rank, And pow'r that knows not care? Nor is my mind By falsehood so beguiled, that it aspires To honours which no real good procure. Now all things give me pleasure; all men now Greet me with courtesy; now all, who want Favours from thee, address me, for their suits Through me they all obtain. And shall I quit These solid pleasures for the empty pomp Of royalty? A mind to wisdom train'd Can not be so depraved: I never loved To form such measures, nor in such would deign To share with others. Dost thou want a proof? Go to the Pythian shrine, and there inquire If faithfully the answer of the god I have reported: if thou find me leagued In counsels with the Seer, put me to death, And in the sentence shall my voice assent With thine: but on suspicion void of proof Condemn me not: the just not lightly deem The base man honest, or the honest base. For he, that throws a faithful friend away, Doth himself equal wrong as if he threw His life away, which is most dear to him. This thou wilt know in time; for time alone Shows a just man; the base a day unveils. Chorus His words are wise: beware, O king, nor err Through passion: quick resolves are oft unsafe. Oedipus When quick the lurking traitor 'gainst my life Advances, me behoves a quick defence: If I am still, and linger, his designs Will be achiev'd, and my slow measures fail. What wou'dst thou then? My exile from this land ? Oedipus No: not thy exile would I, but thy death. Creon When thou hast shown me guilty of some crime. Oedipus Thou speak'st as one refusing to obey. Creon Because I see thee not by wisdom ruled. Oedipus For mine own welfare wisely I provide. Creon Mine claims an equal care. But thou art base. What, though no crime thou know'st? Thou shou'dst not be a tyrant. I will be king. Thebes, O Thebes! Thebes is not thine alone: some share is mine. Chorus Princes forbear: in happy hour, behold, Jocasta comes; her prudence may prevail, And in this fiery contest mediate peace. Jocasta JOCASTA, CŒDIPUS, CREON, CHORUS. Why, indiscreetly why this strife of words, Unhappy princes, have you raised, nor blush, Creon Your country with afflictions thus oppress'd, To stir up private contest? Wilt not thou Nor add a causeless grief to weighty woes? Alas, my sister, with injurious rage Exile or death, against me to enforce. Oedipus Enter these gates? Thou, Creon, hence depart, I own it: for I found him with base arts Against my person plotting base designs. If I have done this, of this heinous charge If I am guilty, let me not enjoy The light of heav'n, but fall a wretch accurs'd. Believe him, I conjure thee by the gods, Jocasta In this believe him, Edipus; regard His sacred oath, and me, and these thy friends. Chorus I too entreat thee, be persuaded, king: What wou'dst thou I should yield? With wisdom yield. Chorus To reverence him, not weakly justified Oedipus Know'st thou what thou wou'dst ask? Chorus Full well. Oedipus Then speak.. Before, but by his oath more strongly now. Chorus On dark suspicion charge not, nor disgrace With blame a friend, who thus attests the gods. Oedipus Now be assured that, seeking this, thou seek'st My ruin, or my exile from this land. Chorus No: by the brightest of the pow'rs of heav'n, The Sun, of every god, of every friend Abandon'd may I perish, sunk in deep Perdition, if I e'er had such a thought. My country's ruin rends my bleeding heart: And greater were my grief, to former ills, If ills were added from your contest sprung. Oedipus Then let him go, e'en though I needs must die, Or from this country with disgrace be driven. Thy mournful plea, not his, my pity moves; Him shall my hate, where'er he goes, pursue.. Creon Harsh art thou e'en in yielding; when thy rage Works its fell purpose, dreadful: souls like thine Justly bring keenest tortures on themselves. Oedipus Then leave me to myself: begone. Creon I go, To thee perchance not known; but still by these, Just to my innocence, in honour held. Chorus CEDIPUS, JOCASTA, CHORUS. Why, lady, this delay to lead him hence ? Jocasta First what hath happen'd here I wish to know. Chorus Words of dark import gave suspicion birth : Hence an injurious charge which gnaws the heart. Jocasta From each to each? E'en so. And what the cause? Chorus Enough, for me enough, my country sunk With such afflictions, where they cease to cease. Oedipus I know thee wise and good; why then persist Thus to depress me, and to damp my heart? Chorus Let me repeat what I before declared. Know then, O king, I must be deem'd of sense Bereft, and lost to wisdom, if in thought I could abandon thee. Thou once didst raise This my dear country when with ills depress'd; If thou hast pow'r, to safety guide us now. Now, by the gods, inform me whence this rage, That with such fury flames, O king, arose. Oedipus I will inform thee (for than these more high Jocasta I reverence thee) of Creon's base designs. Speak, if accusing him thy proof be clear. Oedipus He saith I murder'd Laius. Said he this Jocasta On his own knowledge, or from others heard? Oedipus The prophet prompt to mischief he suborn'd, Whose rude licentious tongue knows no restraint. Think of thyself, respecting this, no more. Hear me, and be assured no mortal man Knows by prophetic art events to come ; Of this I give thee a decisive proof. To Laius once an oracle announced (I will not say that from the god it came, But from his ministers) that time should bring On him this fate, to fall beneath a son That should his birth from him and me derive. Yet foreign ruffians him, as fame reports, Murder'd where three ways meet. A son was born; Not three days pass'd, the infant's feet he bound, Piercing the nerves, and by another's hand Upon a desert mountain cast him forth. The consummation then, that he should slay His father, or that Laius by his son Should fall, a fate so dreadful to his thoughts, Phœbus achieved not; yet th' oracular voice Decreed these things: regard them not: the god, What from his hallow'd shrine he gave command To trace, to your inquiries will disclose. Oedipus What wild amazement, lady, at thy words Seizes my troubled thoughts, and shakes my soul. Jocasta What perturbation moves thee thus to speak? Oedipus Methought I heard thee say that Laius fell, Murder'd by ruffian force, where three ways meet Jocasta Such was the rumour then: it still prevails. Oedipus Where? In what land befel this dire event? Jocasta Phocis the realm is call'd; the separate roads From Delphi and from Daulia there unite. Oedipus What length of time, since this was done, hath pass'd? Jocasta Short time before the regal crown of Thebes Shone on thy brows, these tidings reach'd the state. Oedipus To me, O Jove, what fate hast thou decreed ? Jocasta Why hath a thought like this possess'd thy soul ? Oedipus No questions now; but tell me what the form Of Laius, what his stature, and his age. Jocasta Tall, and of manly port; his locks just tinged With gray; his form not much unlike to thine. Oedipus O wretched me! Unweeting on myself What dreadful curses have I here denounced! Jocasta Why this? I tremble as I look on thee. Oedipus Greatly I fear the prophet sees too well. Yet one thing more : That will give clearer light. Jocasta I tremble; yet whate'er I know will speak. Oedipus Went he with few; or, as became a king, With many guards attendant on his state? Without more train than five, an herald one Of these; a single chariot bore the king. Oedipus Ah wretched me! All now is clear indeed. Jocasta What man was he who this relation brought ? Jocasta A menial servant, who alone escaped. Oedipus Is he now here attending in the house ? Jocasta No: for returning thence when thee he saw Holding the sovereign power, and Laius dead, Touching my hand me suppliant he implored Some rural charge among the pastured herds To give him, that within the walls of Thebes He seldom might be seen: I sent him: this, And greater grace he, though a slave, deserved. Oedipus Let him with swiftest speed then be recall'd. Jocasta He shall. But why to see him this desire ? Oedipus I for myself have fears: much hath been said, Which prompts my eager wish to see this man. Jocasta He soon will come. But am not I, O king, Worthy what thus distracts thy thoughts to know ? Oedipus My expectation to such height is raised, That I will tell thee: for in whom more dear Can I, thus struggling with my fate, confide? My father was the royal Polybus Of Corinth; Merope, who boasts her birth From Dorian Chiefs, my mother; in that state I was esteem'd the greatest, till there chanced A circumstance, which might my wonder claim, But nought of anxious care: amidst a feast One fill'd with wine reviled me as not born The son of Corinth's king; ill brook'd I this, And scarce that day restrain'd myself; the next My father and my mother I address'd, Earnest to trace the truth; the insult raised Their high resentment, though from heat of wine It sprung; with their affection I was pleased; Yet still this stung my heart, so deeply there It rankled. Anxious to the Pythian shrine, My purpose not disclosed, I take my way; To this inquiry no reply was deign'd, And me unhonour'd Phœbus sent away; But show'd, the fates foretelling, other ills With woe, with horror pregnant: he declared That with my mother I was doom'd to mix Embraces, and to light produce a race By men to be abhorr'd; nay, doom'd to be The murderer of my father. When these words Reach'd my affrighted ear, from Corinth wide, My course thenceforth directing by the stars, I fled, where I might ne'er behold the shame, The infamy of these dire oracles Fulfill'd. My way pursuing, to the place I came, where thou hast said this monarch fell. Yes, I will tell thee all the truth: as near This place, where three ways meet, I held my course, An herald, and exalted on a car One of such form as thy description mark'd, Met me: with force the leader of the way, And the old Chief himself against me rush'd, And drove me back; the leader, who aside Had turn'd me, in my rage I strike: the Chief, Soon as he saw me passing near the car, Smote me, against my head he aim'd the blow, He smote me twice; but from this hand received Unequal recompense; beneath my staff At once he sunk, and from his chariot roll'd. I slew them all. Now should these kindred deeds Prove like relation 'twixt this stranger slain And Laius, lives there such a wretch as I? Lives there a man so hateful to the gods? Nor citizen nor stranger may henceforth Beneath their roof receive me, none with me Hold converse, from their houses all constrain'd To thrust me; yet none other, but myself, Denounced these curses on me. I pollute The bed of him, who perish'd by these hands, These blood-stain'd hands? And am I not most vile? Am I not all defiled? If I must fly, And exiled never, never see those friends That are most dear to me, and never tread My country's soil again; if I must mount My mother's bed, in fated nuptials join'd; If I must kill my father Polybus, From whom my life, my nurture I received ; Who would not judge, who would not say with truth That some remorseless Demon wrought these woes ? But never, never, O ye holy pow'rs Of the just gods, may I behold that day! No: from the sight of mortals let me sink, Ere see a stain like this pollute my life. Chorus These things, O king, our consternation raise: Yet see this herdsman, hear him; meanwhile hope: Oedipus With eager expectation I await Jocasta His presence; hope till his arrival lives. What doth thy thought, when he appears, intend? Oedipus I will inform thee: if his words be found With thine according, I escape these woes. Jocasta What of high import heard'st thou in my words? Oedipus From his report thou saidst that Laius fell By ruffians slain: that number if he still Assert, I slew him not; it can not be That one be many; by a single arm If he declares the monarch fell, on me The dreadful deed with all its guilt will fall. Of his relation be assured; his words Jocasta He cannot now retract; not I alone, But all Thebes heard them: with his former tale Be his tongue now at variance, yet, O king, Not of the death of Laius will he speak As by the God foretold, that he must fall Slain by my son; him my unhappy child Slew not, but perish'd, ere his death, himself. What then the faith of oracles? Nor that To thee denounced, nor this will I regard. Oedipus Thy sentiments are just; yet send with speed To bring this herdsman back; omit not that, Jocasta This I will haste to do: but go we in. Whate'er to thee is pleasing I would do. Chorus STRO. 1. ANTIS. 1. Fair Fortune deign with me to dwell, My soul if holy reverence awes, By thinking, speaking, acting well, To bow obedient to the Laws. From heav'n they draw their lineage high, And tread with stately step the sky: Their father the Olympian king; No mixture of man's mortal mould; Nor shall Oblivion's sable wing In shades their active virtues fold. In them the god is great, nor fears The withering waste of years. The tyrant Pride engenders. Pride With wealth o'er-fill'd, with greatness vain, Mounting with Outrage at her side, The splendid summit if she gain, Falls headlong from the dangerous brow, Down dash'd to ruin's gulf below. Not so our monarch: for of old, His contest glorious to the state, In her own blood the Fury roll'd : So may the god now guide his fate! Still be the god's protection mine, Strong in his power divine ! But should some wretch, contemptuous, bold, Brave the just gods, his hands with slaughter stain, The vengeful pow'rs of heav'n disdain, Nor their pure seats in holy reverence hold, Him may perdition sweep away, And thus his wanton pride repay; Him too, whom wild Ambition prompts to seize, Though Justice cries aloud, forbear. Can all his vaunts, who dares attempts like these, Guard his proud heart from guilty fear? Such deeds if glory waits, in vain I lead this choral train. No more at Delphi's central cell, At Abæ, or Olympia's hallow'd shrine Attendant pay I rites divine, Till the god deigns this darkness to dispel. O Jove, if thee we rightly call The sovereign lord, the king of all, Let not concealment this in shades enfold From thee, and thy immortal reign! The oracles, to Laius giv'n of old, They spurn with insolent disdain, No more to Phœbus honours pay; And things divine decay. Corinthian STRO. 2. ANTIS. 2. JOCASTA, CHORUS. Ye rulers of the state, with zealous mind I hasten to the temples of the gods, Bearing these wreaths, this incense in my hands; Is tortured in suspense, nor, as becomes His wisdom, from the past right judgment forms Of later oracles, but yields his mind To him that speaks, of terrors if he speak. But since exhorting him I nought avail, To thee, Lycean Phoebus, (for thy shrine Is nearest) suppliant to present these pray'rs I go, that thou would'st grant us from these griefs Holy deliverance; for we all must fear, When him, who steers our bark, we see appall'd. May I by you, O strangers, be inform'd Which is the royal seat of Edipus ? Or where, instruct me, may I find the king? Chorus CORINTHIAN, JOCASTA, CHORUS. The regal mansion this; the king is there; The mother of his children here behold. Corinthian Oh be thou blest, and ever with the blest Converse, since thou art his accomplish'd wife ! And be thou blest too, stranger; worthy thou For these thy courteous words. But say what cause Brought thee to Thebes: what hast thou to relate? Good tidings to thy house, and to thy lord. Those happy tidings what? Whence art thou come? From Corinth. May what I shall speak to thee Jocasta Give joy! Yet haply it may give thee grief. What may this be, and whence its double force ? The Isthmian states (so, lady, fame proclaims Among them) will appoint thy lord their king. Holds not the aged Polybus that pow'r? No more; for death hath laid him in the tomb. What wou'dst thou say, that Polybus is dead? If I speak aught but truth, be death my meed. Go, my attendant, hasten to thy lord, And tell him this. Ye oracles divine, Where are you? Edipus long since, through fear, Lest he should kill the king, from Corinth fled; Now he is dead before this wretched fate, Nor fell he by the hand of Edipus. Oedipus CEDIPUS, JOCASTA, CORINTHIAN, CHORUS. O my Jocasta, dearest to my soul, Why hast thou sent my presence to require? Jocasta Hear thou this man; then ponder well what end The gods' high-honour'd oracles have found. Oedipus Who is this stranger? With what tidings fraught? Jocasta From Corinth is he come, to tell thee this, That Polybus thy father is no more. Oedipus Speak, stranger; I would be inform'd by thee. Corinthian If this I plainly must at first declare, Know thou that he hath trod the path to death. Oedipus By treachery, or th' attack of some disease ? Slight force will sink the limbs of age to rest. Oedipus Wasted by sickness then, it seems, he died. Corinthian And weary progress through a length of years. Oedipus Alas, alas! Why, lady, should we pay To Delphi's fate-foretelling shrine regard, Or to the flight of birds that clang aloft? I by their auspices was doom'd to slay My father: but beneath the earth he lies In death; and I am here, the sword not touch'd: Unless perchance through fond desire of me He wasted, so from me he had his death. But, bearing with him all those oracles Of no account, he lies among the dead. Jocasta All this did I not tell thee long ago? Oedipus Thou didst; but I was borne away by fears. Jocasta Now then let none of them disturb thy mind. Oedipus Behoves me not to fear my mother's bed? Jocasta Why should man fear, since fortune governs all? Sage forecast sees nought clearly: wisest then Is he who lives at hazard, as he may. Fear not thy mother's bed; it is a dream, Such as hath haunted many: he, who slights Theseus walks easiest through the ways of life. Oedipus In all these things thy words are wise and just, But that my mother lives; and while she lives, Though wise thy words, I must perforce have fears. Jocasta Clear proof thy father's tomb affords thine eyes. Oedipus True; but she lives: my fears are therefore just. Corinthian What woman this, who thus excites your fears? Oedipus Merope, stranger, wife of Polybus. Corinthian And what to her relating gives you fear? Oedipus An oracle heav'n-sent, of import dread. Corinthian To be divulg'd? Or may not strangers know? Oedipus They may: and thus the Pythian god declared, That I am doom'd to mount my mother's bed, And with these hands to shed my father's blood. Dreading these things from Corinth far I fled Long since, by fortune bless'd indeed, but sweet The pleasure to behold a parent's face. Corinthian Urged by this fear from Corinth didst thou fly? Oedipus And anxious not to shed my father's blood. Corinthian Why, since benevolent to thee I came, Should I not free thee from this anxious fear? Oedipus Grateful requital, stranger, this would claim. Corinthian For this I chiefly came, at thy return That from thy hand some boon I might receive. Oedipus It may not be to those who gave me birth I never will return. Corinthian This clearly shows Thou know'st not what thou dost. Oedipus Now by the gods Old man, explain these words. Corinthian If thy return For their sake be denied. Oedipus My fears are strong, Lest by th' event the oracle be found Prophetic of the truth. Corinthian Dost thou then fear Pollution from thy parents? Oedipus That, old man, That always gives me fear. Then be assured Corinthian Thou hast no cause for fear: Oedipus No cause, if they My parents, I their son? Corinthian Nought to thy blood Was Polybus allied. Oedipus What mean thy words? Was he not then my father ? Corinthian E'en as much As I, no more. Oedipus Was he, who gave me birth, Not more than thou my father ? Corinthian Nor to him Owest thou thy birth; no, nor to me. Oedipus Why then Did he avow me as his son? Corinthian A gift He from my hands received thee. Oedipus And such love Bore to an infant from another's hands Received! Corinthian To this his former childless state Induced him. Oedipus Was I purchased with thy gold, Or to thee born? Corinthian Amidst the bosky dales Beneath Cithæron found. Oedipus To those retreats What led thy devious steps ? Corinthian I kept the herds That o'er the mountain range. An herdsman thou Oedipus For hire? Corinthian And thy preserver at that time. Oedipus What sufferings didst thou find me in that state Of ills sustaining? Corinthian These thy wounded feet Would evidence. Oedipus Ah, why recal this ill Of days long pass'd! Corinthian I loose thy feet pierced through, And bound together. Oedipus Barbarous were the wrongs My infancy endured. Corinthian And hence thy name From these thy sufferings given thee. By the gods Was this my father's, or my mother's deed? I know not: he knows best from whom my hands Received thee. Oedipus Was I then from other hands By thee received, not found by chance? Corinthian To me Another herdsman gave thee. Oedipus Who that man? Canst thou inform me ? Corinthian Of the menial train Of Laius Oedipus What, of him who once o'er Thebes Reign'd king? Corinthian Of him; and herdsman to that king. Oedipus Is he, that I may see him, yet alive? - Corinthian You, in this country who reside, best know. Oedipus Is there among you, that are standing here, One, who the herdsman, by him mention'd knows, Seen in the fields or city ? Make him known: The time demands these things should be made clear. Chorus I think he means none other, but the man Whom from the fields long since thou hast desired To see: none better than Jocasta knows. Oedipus Knowest thou, lady, him we wish'd to come To be the man of whom this stranger speaks? Who...speak of whom?...Regard him not, nor wish On words at random utter'd e'en to think. Oedipus What, shall such traces of my birth appear, And I not follow them! It may not be. Oh, by the gods inquire not, if thy life Be dear to thee! Enough that I am wretched. Oedipus Be cheer'd: for were I thrice a slave, and thrice My mothers slaves, thence no disgrace were thine. Yet let my prayers prevail; this search forbear. Oedipus No pray'rs shall move me: I will be inform'd. Jocasta I have strong cause: I warn thee for thy peace. Oedipus My peace that cause, whate'er it be, destroys. Never, oh never may'st thou know thy birth! Oedipus Go some one, bring this herdsman to me, haste And let her glory in her noble birth. Jocasta Alas, ill-fated man! for by that name Alone, ah me! can I address thee now. And by none other ever from this hour. Chorus Ah, wither is the queen with hasty step Jocasta Fled, pierced with anguish? From this silence great My fear, lest something dreadful should burst forth. Oedipus Burst forth what may, my soul is bent to know, Mean though it be, my race: but she perchance (For, as a woman, lofty are her thoughts) Looks with disdain on my ignoble birth. I am the son of Fortune: while she smiles, I shall not be disgraced : my mother she, The Months, my kindsmen, have design'd me mean, And great: thus born, no other can I be, Nor will I ever blush to know my race. Chorus STRO. ANTIS. If a prophet's soul be mine Aught illumed with skill divine, By Olympus' sacred height, Ere the morning's streaming light Thou, Cithæron, shalt unfold All this mystery round thee roll'd, And with pride and triumph own Edipus thy foster'd son. Then with joy would we advance, Leading light the festive dance; Teach thy woods with joy to ring, And with transport hail our king. Glorious with thy silver bow, Phœbus, these our joys allow ! Who, of all the heav'nly pow'rs. Gave thee birth in these close bow'rs ? Some bright Nymph of sylvan race Did the frolic Pan embrace, Wand'ring o'er the mountain's brow? Or to Phœbus dost thou owe Thy birth? For him the craggy height, Him the pastured ales delight. Or to him, the god who roves Through Cyllene's cypress groves ? Or did Bacchus, wont to tread, His loved haunt, the mountain's head, Thee receive, confess'd his son, From the Nymphs of Helicon ? Raptured with their tuneful strain Sportive oft he joins their train. Oedipus If I, who converse never with him held, May from appearance, reverend sages, judge, I see th' expected herdsman; for his years Accord, denoting him of equal age With this Corinthian: more than this, I know They, who conduct him, to my menial train Belong: with more assurance thou may'st speak, As haply thou hast seen this groom before. Chorus I know him well; to Laius in his charge As herdsman none more faithful was esteem'd. Oedipus Stranger of Corinth, I would ask thee first, Of this man didst thou speak? Corinthian This is the man. Oedipus CŒDIPUS, CORINTHIAN, HERDSMAN, Hither, old man; look up; to what I ask ; Answer. To Laius didst thou once belong? Herdsman I was his slave, but not a purchased slave, My birth was in his house. Oedipus Thine office what? What was thy life? Herdsman Pass'd chiefly on his herds Oedipus To what pastures didst thou drive Thy charge? Herdsman Around Cithæron, and the tracts Adjoining to the mountain. Oedipus Dost thou know This man? Didst thou e'er see him? Herdsman Of what deed, What man is thy inquiry? Oedipus Of this man Now present: commerce with him hast thou held ? Herdsman My memory fails; I cannot speak at once. Corinthian No wonder, lord; but I will soon recal Things to his memory lost; for well I know He must remember in Cithæron's vales, When of two herds the charge was his, and mine Of one, I neighbour'd with him three whole months, From spring till cold Arcturus with him brings The winter; to their stalls I then drove back My herds, and he to those of Laius his. Have I said aught but truth and real fact? Herdsman These things are true, though facts of distant times. Corinthian Say then, dost thou remember that a child Thou gavest me there to nurture as mine own? Herdsman What wou'dst thou? Wherefore is that question ask'd? Corinthian This, my good friend, is he who was that child. Herdsman Perdition seize thee; wilt thou hold thy peace? Oedipus Ah, thou dost wrong: rebuke him, not old man; For more than his thy words deserve rebuke. Herdsman In what, most worthy lord, do I offend? Oedipus To what concerns this child, of which he asks, Replying not. Herdsman He speaks he knows not what, Mere idle talk. Oedipus Thou wilt not with good grace Speak freely; but the truth thou wilt declare Writhing beneath the scourge. Herdsman Oh, by the gods, Scourge not an old man! Oedipus Seize him, bind his hands This instant. Herdsman Wretched me! And for what cause? What wou'dst thou know? Oedipus This child, of which he asks, Didst thou consign it to his hands! Herdsman I did. Would I had died that day! Oedipus And thou shalt die, Unless thou speak the truth. Herdsman And if I speak, I must be more undone. Oedipus This man, it seems, Is studious of delay. Herdsman Not so: I said Long since I gave it to him. Oedipus Whence received ? Thine own, or from some other? Herdsman Not mine own. But from another's hand. Oedipus From whom? from one That dwells at Thebes? Herdsman Now by the gods, O king, Inquire no more. Oedipus If I must ask again, Thou diest. Herdsman Beneath the roof of Laius born. Oedipus Born to a slave? Or drew he from the king His birth? Herdsman For me how terrible to speak ! Oedipus Ay, and for me to hear: yet I must hear. Herdsman The son of Laius he was call'd; of this Thy queen, Jocasta, can inform thee best. Oedipus Gave she the child to thee? Herdsman She did, O king. Oedipus With what intent? Herdsman By me to be destroy'd. Oedipus What, she who gave him birth! O wretch! Through dread What ill? Of oracles denouncing ill. Herdsman That he should kill his parents: this was said. Oedipus Why then to this old man consign thy charge? Herdsman Through pity: for, my lord, I thought this man Would bear him to a distant land, of which He is a native; but he saved him, saved To misery: for if thou art he, of whom He speaks, know this, most wretched is thy fate. Oedipus Is there a wretch like me? My dreadful fate Is now unveil'd. O light, thy beams no more Let me behold, for I derive my birth From these, to whom my birth I should not owe; My dearest commerce I have held with those, Whose commerce nature starts at; I have slain Those, from whose blood the foulest stain I draw. Chorus STRO. ANTIS. Ye race of mortals, what your state? Life I an airy nothing deem. For what, ah! what your happiest fate, More than light fancy's high-wrought dream? How soon those baseless dreams decay And all the glittering visions melt away! Whilst thy example, hapless king, Thy life, thy fortune I bewail, Happy no man of mortal birth I hail. Thine was no vulgar fate: its tow'ring wing To wealth, and empire's splendid summit soar'd: When, silenced her mysterious lore, The harpy-talon'd monster scream'd no more, Our bulwark thou against that pest abhorr'd, Thebes gave her sceptre to thy honour'd hand, And hail'd thee monarch of a mighty land. Who now is pierced with keener pain ? To all thy glories bid farewell : They fly, and in their stead a train Of miseries croud with thee to dwell. To one great port, illustrious king, Their gallant barks the son and father bring; But sink in wild waves roaring round. How could thy father's bed so long, Ah, how in silence bear the horrid wrong! Second Messenger But thee th' all-seeing eye of time hath found, And these unhallow'd rites abhorrent shows. O son of Laius, ne'er again, Ne'er could my sorrowing heart thy sight sustain : Yet I lament in mournful strains thy woes, By thee 'twas mine to life, to light, to rise; Chorus By thee in dark despair to close my eyes. Messenger MESSENGER, CHORUS. Ye ever-honour'd rulers of this land, What deeds are you to hear, what to behold, What grief to suffer, if you yet revere, As Thebans ought, the house of Labdacus ! Not all the cleansing streams that Ister rolls Or Phasis, the pollutions of this house Can wash away: as yet they lie conceal'd; But soon the dreadful deeds will burst to light, Deeds not of force, but choice: with keenest pangs Ills self-inflicted rend the tortured heart. Chorus No weight was wanting to the ills we knew Before: what bring'st thou now to grieve us more? Messenger What soonest may be spoken, soonest heard, Take briefly, the revered Jocasta's dead. Chorus Unhappy queen! And what the fatal cause? Messenger That from herself arose: but of these deeds The greatest grief is wanting, for no eye Beheld them; yet, as far as memory prompts, Her heart-corroding sufferings thou shalt know. Soon as the portal she had pass'd, with woes Distracted to her nuptial bed she rush'd Rending her hair, and entering barr'd the doors : On Laius long since dead she calls, and makes Sad mention of the seed announced of old, By which he died, and left her to produce Unhallow'd offspring, at which nature starts. Her nuptial bed with anguish she bewail'd, Where from her husband husbands she brought forth, And sons from sons. How, after this, she died I know not, for with loud laments, and pace Impetuous in rush'd Edipus: her ills Our thoughts no more engaged, for all our eyes Were fix'd on him; he, hurrying on, demands A sword; his wife he seeks, and not his wife, His mother, and the mother of his sons. Him raving thus some evil demon shows, What not a man there present would declare, Where he might find her; with a dreadful cry, As by some impulse, 'gainst the folding doors He rush'd, and all the solid bolts beat down, Then burst into the chamber; there he saw His wife, but breathless now, around her neck The wreathed cord: at this unhappy sight Deeply he groan'd, and loosed the strangling noose. When on the floor the wretched corse was laid, The golden clasps, with which she was adorn'd, He from her vestments snatch'd, then, dreadful deed! Raised high his hand, and plunged their piercing points Deep in his orbs of sight, exclaiming thus, That her no more they should behold, his woes, His horrid deeds no more; but henceforth dark Nor see whom it beseem'd him not to see, Nor those, with whom he should have converse, know. Thus oft exclaiming he his eyelids raised, And rent the orbs of sight; the bleeding balls Imbath'd his cheeks, nor ceased the gushing drops, But rain'd a show'r of black and streaming gore. This the unhappy fate of both, the woes Of wife and husband blended dreadfully. Their former happiness, with ample right Of old call'd happiness, is now, this day, Misfortune, lamentation, death, disgrace, And all the names that misery ever knew. Chorus And hath he yet no respite from his ills ? Messenger He cries aloud, open the doors, and show This murderer of his father, show to Thebes This murderer of his mother; uttering words Unholy, not by me to be expressed; That he no longer will inhabit here, But cast himself an exile from this land, By his own curse devoted: yet a guide He wants, and strength; for more than he can bear Are his afflictions. But to thee he soon Will show himself; the bolts, that close these doors, Are opening; now shalt thou behold a sight, At which with pity e'en a foe would melt. Chorus CŒDIPUS, CHORUS. O misery, horrible to human sight, Most horrible of all that e'er these eyes Beheld! What madness, O unhappy man, What demon seized thee, to thy wretched fate Adding this extreme agony of woe? Alas thy sufferings! But I cannot bear To look on thee, (though much I wish to ask, Of much to be inform'd, and much to see) Such shuddering horror strikes me at thy sight. Oedipus Woe, woe, woe, woe! O miserable me! Wretch that I am, ah, whither am I borne? Whose ears do now my cries of anguish reach? To what are thy decrees, O fortune, changed Chorus To horrors, which nor eye nor ear can bear. Oedipus Ah me, this cloud of darkness thick'ning round, Hateful, beyond expression, beyond cure, And beyond hope! Ah me, how keen the sting Of frenzy, and the memory of my ills! Chorus No marvel if in sufferings great as thine Redoubled ills bring on redoubled woes. Oedipus Thou art a friend, yet stedfast, faithful yet; Thy care, thy kind attention yet remains E'en to the blind. I know thee, though mine eyes Are dark, distinctly know thee, and thy voice. Chorus Dreadful thy deeds: how hast thou dared thine eyes To mangle thus? What god enforced this rage? Oedipus This was the work of Phœbus: O my friends, Phœbus accomplish'd all my ills, my woes. With his own hands no man e'er rent his eyes, But I unhappy. Why should I have sight, Since, had I eyes, nought pleasant could I see ? Chorus Mournful these truths, and just are thy complaints. Oedipus What now is left me to be seen, or loved, Address'd, or heard with pleasure? O my friends, Drive hence, my friends, quick from your country drive This pestilent destroyer, most accursed, Of mortal men, most hateful to the gods. Chorus Unhappy in thy ills, and in the sense Oedipus Hither I had not come this guilty wretch, The murderer of my father, nor been call'd Husband to those who gave me birth. But now, Sprung from unhallow'd parents, giving sońs To those whose son I am, what woes are mine! And if 'midst ills there be an heavier ill, Chorus Thy counsels cannot claim my praise as wise; For better not to be, than to live blind. Oedipus If what is done I have not wisely done, Instruct me now, and counsel me no more. I know not with what eyes in Pluto's realm I could behold my father, had I sight, Or my unhappy mother: these dark orbs, These deeds are better than the strangling cord. But to behold my children's opening bloom, As I beheld them bloom, must be a sight Much to be wish'd: no, never to my eyes; Nor e'en this city, nor its rampired tow'rs, Nor the revered forms of its sculptured gods, Of which I, once of all the sons of Thebes Most glorious, have deprived myself, my voice Injoining all an outcast hence to chase This wretch unhallow'd, by the gods declared Impure, and from the blood of Laius sprung. This impious stain disclos'd, could e'er my eyes Dare unaverted look on these again? No: could I stop the fount of hearing too, Without remorse from this unhappy frame Would I shut out its entrance, that nor eye Nor ear might aught perceive; for sweet the life That glides away without the sense of ills. Me, O Cithæron, why didst thou receive, Or when received not instantly destroy, That whence my birth I never might have shown? O Polybus, O Corinth, and the house Once call'd my father's, what a seemly form Of glory, covering ills that rankled deep, In me you cherish'd, for I now am found Vile, and my birth deriving from the vile ! O ye three ways, ye secret dells, thou grove, And, where the three ways meet, thou narrow path, Who drank my father's blood shed by these hands, Yet, do you yet remember me, what deeds I did among you, then what deeds again I here committed? O ye nuptials, O Ye nuptials, you produced this plant, then gave To the same soil the same seed back, and show'd Fathers, sons, brothers, streams of kindred blood, Sisters, wives, mothers, and whatever deeds 'Mongst men are deem'd most vile. But, since the deeds Shameful in act not well beseem the tongue, Quick, by the gods, in some far distant place Hide me, or kill me, or beneath the sea Hurl me to sink for ever. Come, my friends, Disdain not an unhappy man to touch; Let me prevail; why should you fear? my ills Of all mankind none but myself can bear. Chorus But Creon comes, at thy request to grant, By counsel or by deed, whate'er is right: He now is left sole sovereign of this land. Oedipus To him how can I speak ? from him what grace With justice can I hope? for he before Found me injurious, and in all things vile. I come not to insult thee, Edipus, Nor to reproach thee for thy former wrongs. But you, respecting mortals if you feel No touch of shame, revere th' all-feeding flame Of yon imperial sun; nor thus expose Unveil'd such dire pollution, which nor earth, Nor sacred water, nor heav'n's light receives. But quickly bear him hence, beneath this roof Conceal'd; for piety demands that those By blood allied alone should see, should hear The ills of those from the same blood derived. Oedipus CREON, CEDIPUS, CHORUS. Now by the gods, since all my fears from thee Thou hast rent from me, and benevolent Comest to a wretch thus vile, grant me one grace: What I shall ask concerns thy good, not mine. Creon Of me thus warmly what wou'dst thou request? Oedipus With all speed cast me from this land where ne'er With mortal man I may hold converse more. Creon That I would grant, be thou assured; but first Behoves me what the god requires to know. Oedipus Long since have all his dictates been declared, This parricide, this monster to destroy. These things have been declared; but better now In this our state to learn what must be done. Oedipus For such a wretch wilt thou consult the god ? Creon Thy fate hath taught us to revere his truth. Oedipus I charge thee, I conjure thee, in a tomb, Creon Such as thou wilt, place her who in the house Lies dead: so near allied, this office well Becomes thy care. But never may this town, Seat of my fathers, deign to let me live Within its walls: but suffer me to dwell On those wild mountains, my Cithæron call'd: My father and my mother, when alive, My tomb appointed there; there let me die, Where they design'd my death; for well I know That nor disease, nor aught besides to man Most hurtful, could destroy me; nor from death Had I been saved, but for some dreadful ill : Let my ill fate then go, where it will go. But I have children, Creon; on my sons Thy anxious care employ not; they are men, And never shall their lives, where'er they are, Feel the distress of pinching penury. But for my poor lamented daughters, left In virgin helplessness, from whom apart My table ne'er was spread, o'er whom has stream'd The sweet effusion of a father's love, Of them take tender care; and this warm wish Indulge me, let me touch them with my hands, And o'er them wail their ills: go then, Oking, Generous and noble by thy lineage, go : If with my hands I touch them, I shall think I hold them now, as when I look'd on them With eyes of fondness....Ah, am I deceived? Or near me my loved children do I hear, Hear I their grief? Now, Creon, by the gods, Didst thou in pity to the father send These dearest pledges to me? Speak I truth? Thou dost: thy former fondness well I knew, And my attention gave thee this delight. Oedipus Oh, be thou bless'd; and for this courtesy A kinder guardian may'st thou find the god Than I have found him!... O my children, where, Where are you? Come to me, come to these hands, A brother's hands, which thus your father's eyes, Once lamps of light, have quench'd. Your father I (Alas, my children! erring, nor by sight Nor thought inform'd) by her that gave me birth Yet I weep o'er you, for these eyes no more Creon Can see you, thinking on the cruel griefs Which must embitter all your life, I weep. To the bright circles of assembled dames How will you go? Or how on festive days To the throng'd theatre, returning home More than each spectacle of tragic woe Lamented there? But when your blooming age Leads on the nuptial hour, who is the man, My children, that will lead you to his house, Regardless of the infamy which marks My parents, and devolves the stain on you? Interminable ills? Your father kill'd His father, mounted then his mother's bed And gave you, whence he drew his own, your birth. With infamy you thus will be reproach'd : What youth will wed you then? Alas, not one : Neglected, O my children, must you waste In cheerless solitude your lives away.... Son of Menæceus, since alone to these A father thou art left (for we, who were Their parents, are no more) neglect them not, They are allied to thee, let them not roam Unhusbanded, unfriended, and to want Exposed, nor let their miseries equal mine: Have pity on them, for their helpless age Thou seest, by all abandon'd, save what rests On thee: assent then, O thou generous man, And pledge thy hand....To you once more I turn, My children: to instruction were your age Mature, much admonition on your minds Would I enforce: but now I can no more Than pour this pray'r, where'er your lot to live That happier than your father's be your lives. Enough of tears: but enter now the house. Oedipus I must, howe'er unwillingly, obey. Creon All things in season have their proper grace. Oedipus Know'st thou my warm wish now ? Creon That wish declare. ÆDIP. Me from this land an out-cast that thou drive. Thou ask'st what is the god's, not mine to grant. Oedipus I am a wretch detested by the gods. Creon Then soon perchance thy wish thou may'st obtain. Oedipus Speak'st thou the truth? Creon It is not mine to speak With falsehood what is foreign to my thought. Oedipus Now lead me hence. Creon Thy children must be left. Oedipus Take them not all, Oh take not all away. Creon Be not desirous all things to obtain. Weigh what is pass'd: for what thou hast obtain'd, False to thy hopes, attends thee not through life. Chorus Inhabitants of Thebes, my native state, Behold your Œdipus, whose piercing mind Solved the destructive monster's mystic charm, Once your most potent, most illustrious chief, To fortune and the people's favouring voice Superior, by transcendent merit raised To his high state; behold him now how fallen, How sunk beneath a flood of dreadful woes ? See this, and, mortal as thou art, survey Man's last deciding day, and none pronounce Happy, the bounds of life till he hath pass'd Safe, and uninjured by the storms of fate.