Oedipus Coloneus Oedipus (Edipus. Where are we now, my dear Antigone ? Knowst thou the place ? Will any here afford Their scanty alms to a poor wanderer, The banished (Edipus 1 I ask not much. Yet less receive ; but I am satisfied : Long time hath made my woes familiar to me, And I have learned to bear calamity. But tell me, daughter, if thou seest a place, Or sacred, or profane, where I may rest, There set me down, from some inhabitant A chance but we may learn where now we are, And act, so strangers ought, as he directs us, Antigone O G^dipus ! my poor, unliappy fatlier, Far as my eyes can reach I see a city, With lofty turrets crowned, and, if I err not, This place is sacred, by the laurel shade Olive and vine thick-planted, and the songs Of nightingales sweet warbling through the grove Here sit thee down, and rest thy wearied limbs On this rude stone ; 'tis a long way for age Like thine to travel. Oedipus Place me here, and guard A sightless wretch. Antigone Alas ! at such a time Thou needst not tell Antigone her duty. Oedipus Knowst thou not where we are ? Antigone As I have learned From passing travellers, not far from Athens ; The place I know not ; would you that I go And straight inquire ? But now I need not leave thee, i^'or, lo ! a stranger comes this way, e'en now He stands before you, he will soon inform us. Oedipus Scene II. Stranger, thou com'st in happy hour to tell us What much we wish to know ; let me then ask thee- Stranger Ask nothing ; speak not till thou art removed From off that hallowed spot where now thou standst, By human footsteps not to be profaned. Stranger (Edi. To whom then is it sacred % 'Tis a place Where but to tread is impious, and to dwell Forbidden ; where the dreadful goddesses, Daughters of Earth and Night, alone inhabit. Stranger (Edi. Ha ! let me hear their venerable names. By other names in other climes adored, The natives here call them Eumenides, Th' all-seeing powers. Propitious, and receive a suppliant's prayer, That I might never leave this blest abode ! Stranger (Edi. Oh ! that they would but smile What dost thou mean? Oedipus It suits my sorrows well. Stranger I must inform the citizens ; till then Remain, Oedipus Oh ! do not scorn a wretched exile, But tell me, stranger Stranger Speak ; I scorn thee not. Oedipus What place is this ? Stranger I'll tell thee what I know. This place is sacred all : great Neptune here Presides, and he who bears the living fire, Titan Prometheus ; where thou treadst is called The Brazen Way, the bulwark of our State : From this equestrian hill, their safest guard, The neighbouring villagers their general name Derive, thence called Colonians all. Oedipus But say, Are there who dwell here, then ? Stranger There are, and called From him they worship. Oedipus . Is the power supreme Lodged in the people's voice, or in the king? Stranger 'Tis in the king. Oedipus Who is he? Stranger Theseus, son Of uEgeus, their last sovereign. Oedipus Who will go And tell him Stranger What ! to come and meet thee here 1 Oedipus To tell him that a little help bestowed Would amply be repaid. Stranger Why, what couldst thou do. Dark as thou art ? Oedipus My words will not be so. Stranger Then mark me,, that thou err not ; for to me Thy fortunes seem ill-suited to thy nature, Which is most noble ; therefore stay thou here Till I return ; I will not go to Athens, But ask these villagers, who sojourn here, J f thou mayst stay. \^Exit Athenian. Antigone Scene III. (Edi. My daughter, is he gone ? He is, and thou mayst safely speak, for I Alone am with thee. Since in your seats my wearied steps have found Their first I'epose, not inauspicious smile On Phoebus and on me ! For know, the god Who 'gainst unhappy (Edipus denounced Unnumbered woes, foretold that here at last I should liave rest, within this hallowed grove These hospitable shades, and finish here A life of misery : happy those, he said. Who should receive me, glorious their reward, And woe to them who strove to drive me hence Inhuman. This he promised to confirm By signs undoubted ; thunder, or the sound Of dreadful earthquake, or the lightning's blast Launched from the arm of Jove. I doubt it not, From you some happy omen hither led My prosperous steps, that first to you I came Pure to the pure ] and here on this rude seat Reposed me, could not be the work of chance ; Wherefore, ye powers ! as Phoebus hath decreed, Here let me find a period of my woes, Here end my wi^etched life ! unless the man, Who long hath groaned beneath the bitterest ills That mortals feel, still seem to merit more. Daughters of Ancient Night ! oh, hear me now ! And thou, from great Minerva called, the best And noblest city, Athens ! pity me, Pity the shadow of poor CEdipus ; For, oh ! I am not what I was. Antigone (Edi. Goddesses revered ! No more : Behold a venerable band approach Of ancient natives, come perchance to seek thee. Oedipus I've done ; Antigone, remove me hence. And hide me in tlie grove till by their words, Listening. 1 learn their purpose ; such foreknowledge Will best direct us how to act hereafter. [Exeunt. Chorus Scene IV. Where is he? Look, examine, search around For this abandoned exile, of mankind The most profane ; doubtless some wretched stranger. Who else had dared on this forbidden soil To tread, where dwell the dreadful deities We tremble e'en to name, and as we pass Dare not behold, but silently revere, Or soft with words of fairest omen greet? Of these regardless, here we come to find An impious wretch. I look around the grove, But still he lurks unseen. Oedipus Scene V. Antigone, Chorus. Oedipus Behold me here ; For by your words I find you look for me. Chorus [looking steadfastly at him]. Dreadful his voice and terrible his aspect ! Chorus (Edi. I am no outlaw ; do not look thus on me. Jove the defender ! who is this old man ? Oedipus One on whom fortune little hath bestowed To call for reverence from you ; that, alas ! Is but too plain ; thus by another's eyes Conducted here, and on her aid depending. Old as I am. Chorus Alas ! and wert thou born Thus sightless? Full of sorrow and of years Indeed thou seemst ; but do not let on us Thy curse devolve. Thou hast transgressed the bounds Prescribed to mortals ; shun this hallowed grove, AVliere on the grassy surface to the powere A welcome ottering flows with honc^y mixed The limpid stream ; unhappy stranger, lienco, Away, begone ! Thou seest 'tis a long space Divides us : dost thou hear me, wretched exile ? This instiint, if thou dost, depart, then speak, But not before. Oedipus Antigone, my daughter, What's to be done 1 Antigone Obey the citizens ; Give me thy hand. Confiding thus in you, and thus removing As you directed, let me not be injured. Chorus (Edi. I will ; and now, my friends. Thou shalt not ; be assured that thou art safe ; None shall offend or drive thee hence. Oedipus Yet more Must I approach ? Chorus A little farther still. Chorus (Edi. Will this suffice 1 Remove him this way, virgin ; Thou hearst us. Antigone Thou must follow me, my father, Weak as thou art ; we are unhappy strangers, And must submit ; whate'er the city hates Content to hate, and what she loves to love. Oedipus Lead me, my daughter, to some hallowed spot For mutual converse fit, nor let us strive With dire necessity. Chorus Stop there, nor move Beyond that stone. DI. Thus, then ? Oedipus Where should I sit? Chorus A little forward lean. And rest thee there. Antigone [takioig hold of hwi]. Alas ! *tis my sad office — Let me perform it — to direct thy steps ; To this loved hand commit thy aged limbs ; T will be careful. [She seats him on the stone. Oedipus O unh^npy State ! It is enough. Chorus Now, wretched stranger, tell us who thou art, Thy country, and thy name. Oedipus Alas ! my lords, A poor abandoned exile; but, oh ! do not Chorus What sayst thou ? Oedipus Do not ask me who I am ; Inquire no farther. Chorus Wherefore ? Oedipus My sad race Chorus Speak on. I proceed ? Chorus (Edi. [turning to Antigone]. My daughter, how shall Thy race, thy father GEdi. O Antigone ! What do I suffer? Antigone Speak ; thou canst not be More wretched than thou art. Oedipus I will ; for, oh ! It cannot be concealed. Chorus You do delay ; Inform us straight. Oedipus Know you the son of Laius ? Chorus Alas ! Oedipus The race of Labdacus. Chorus O Jove ! Oedipus Th' unhappy CEdipus. Chorus And art thou he 1 Oedipus Be not affrighted at my words. Chorus O Heaven ! Oedipus Wretch that I am ! what will become of me ? Chorus Away, begone, fly from this place ! Oedipus Then where Are all your promises ? are they forgotten ? Chorus Justice divine will never punish those Who but repay the injury they receive ; And fraud doth merit fraud for its reward. Wherefore, begone, and leave us, lest once more Our city be compelled to force thee hence. Antigone O my kind friends ! as you revere the name Of virtue, though you will not hear the prayers Of my unhappy father, worn with age And laden with involuntary crimes ; Yet hear the daughter pleading for her sire, And pity her who with no evil eye Beholds you, but, as one of the same race, Born of one common father, here entreats Your mercy to th' unhappy, for on you, As on some god alone, we must rely ; Then grant this wished-for boon — oh ! gi'ant it now, By all that's dear to thee, thy sacred word, Thy interest, thy children, and thy god ; 'Tis not in mortals to avoid the crime Which Heaven hath pre-ordained. Chorus We pity thee, Daughter of (Edipus ; we pity him, And his misfortunes ; but of wrath divine Still fearful, dare not alter our decree. What shall it profit that your pious city Was once for hospitable rites renowned, That she alone w ould pity and relieve The afflicted stranger ? Is she so to me Who drives me hence, and trembles at a name? Me you can never fear, and for my crimes I am the sufferer, not the offender. What Touching my father I have spoke, alas ! If 'tis for that you do abhor me thus, Was I to blame? The injury received I but repaid, and therefore had I known The crime I acted, I wxre guiltless still. Whither I came, I came unknowingly; Not so they acted who have banished me. By your commands already here removed. Oh ! by the gods, preserve, assist me now ; If you revere them, do not thus despise What they decree ; their eyes behold tlie goo*^ And view the evil man, nor shall the wicked Escape their wrath ; use not theit* sacred names To cover crimes and stain the fame of Athens. As you received the suppliant, oh ! remember Your plighted faith — preserve me, save me now ! Look not contemptuous on this wretched form, Or cast reproach unmerited ; I come Nor impious, nor profane, and with me bring To Athens much of profit and renown, As when your king arrives, you all shall know : Meantime despise me not. Chorus (Edi. Now who shall trust to glory and fair fame ? Old man, thy words Are full of weight, and merit our observance ; If those who here preside but know thy purpose, It doth suffice. Oedipus But say, where is the king? Chorus Within his palace, but a messenger Is gone to fetch him hither. Oedipus O my friends ! Think you a sightless wretch like me wdll move His pity or his care, that he will come ? Chorus Most readily, when he shall hear the name Of CEdipus. O^Di. And who shall tell it him 1 Chorus The journey's long, but passing travellers Will catch the tale, and he must hear it soon ; Fear not, thy story is already known On every side; 'twill quicken his slow steps. And bring him instant hither. Oedipus May he come In happy hour to Athens and to me ! He will ; what good man doth not love his country ? Antigone O Jove ! what shall I say or think ? My father Oedipus What says my daughter ? Antigone This way bent, behold On a Sicilian steed, a woman comes. Her face concealed by a Thessalian veil, To shield her from the sun : am I deceived, Or is it she? I know not what to think. It is my sister, now she smiles upon me ; It must, it can be none but my Ismene. Oedipus Who, my Antigone ? Antigone It is thy daughter, My sister, but her voice will soon convince you, ISMENE AND ATTENDANT, (EdIPUS, AnTIGONE, ChORUS* Ismene Scene VI. O the sweet sounds ! a father and a sister ! What pains have I not suffered in the search ! And now for grief can scarce behold you. My daughter, art thou here 1 Ismene (Edi. Oh ! Alas ! my father, How terribly thou lookst! The father and the daughter. Ismene (Edi. From the same blood Wretched race ! Ismene (Edi. And art thou oome, my daughter 1 I have reached thee With toil and labour. Ismene (Edi. Touch me, 0 my child ! Let me embrace you both. Ismene (Edi. Both miserable ! Join then a third as wretched as yourselves. Ismene \They all embrace. (Edi. Ismene, wherefore art thou come ? My care For thee, my father, brought me here. Ismene (Edi. For me ? That I might speak to thee ; this faithful slave Alone conducted me. [Pointing to her Attendant. What are they doing ? Ismene (Edi. Thy brothers, say. They are — what they are ; For, oh ! between them deadliest discord reigns. Where the men sit inglorious at the loom, And to their wives leave each domestic care ! E'en thus my sons, who should have laboured for me. Like women idly sit at home, whilst you Perform their office, and with fihal care Attend a wretched father. This kind maid, E'en from her infant days, hath wandered long An exile with me, and supported still My feeble age ; oft through the savage woods, Naked and hungry, by the wintry storms Or scorching heats afflicted, led me on. And gave me food, unmindful of her own. Thou too, Ismene, wert my faithful guard When I was driven forth ; and now art come To tell thy father what the gods declare ; A stranger now to Thebes, I know not what Hath passed between them ; thou hast some sad news, I know thou hast, to tell thy wretched father. Ismene (Edi. How like th' unmanly sons of Egypt's clime, What I have suffered in the search of thee I pass in silence o'er, since to repeat Were but, alas ! to double my misfortunes ; I only came to tell thee the sad fate Of thy unhappy sons. Awhile they seemed As if they meant to yield the throne to Creon, Nor stain their guilty hands with Theban blood, Mindful of that pollution which remained On thy devoted race ; but now some god Or their own wicked minds have raised a flame Of dire contention, which shall gain the power Supreme, and reign in Thebes. Eteocles Hath drove his elder Polynices forth, Who, now an exile, seeks (as fame reports) The Argians, and in solemn contract joined With these his new allies would raise their fame Above the stars, and sink our Thebes in ruin. These are not words alone — 'tis now in act, Alas ! e'en now I fear, nor know I when The gods will take compassion on thy woes. Ismene (Edi. Hast thou no hope they'll pity me ? I have ; Their oracles have said it. My daughter, tell me, what have they declared ? Ismene (Edi. Ha ! said what % The time would come, they said, when Thebes once more Must seek thee, dead or living, for her safety. Oedipus Why, what could such a wretch as I do for them? Ismene Their only hope, they say, is placed in thee. Can it proceed 1 Ismene (TiDi. I, that am nothing, grown so powerful ! Whenf < The gods, who once depressed thee, Now raise thee up again. Who falls in youth will never rise in ago. Ismene (Edi. It cannot be ] Ivnow, for this very purpose Creon comes ; Ere long thou mayst expect him. Oedipus What to do, My daughter ? Ismene To remove thee hence, and place thee Nearer to Thebes, but not within her borders. To them ? Ismene (Edi. If not within, what profit can it be Thy tomb, raised in a foreign land, They fear would prove most fatal. CEni. But how know they Ismene [t must be so, unless some god declared it ? For this alone they wish to have thee near The borders, in their power, and not thy own, Ismene (Edi. To bury me at Thebes ? That cannot be ; Thy crime forbids it. Ismene (Edi. Then I'll never go. [ance. a time will come when they shall feel thy venge- This wished event ? Ismene (Edi. What strange vicissitude can e'er produce Thy wrath, when at thy tomb They shall be forced to meet. Ismene (Edi. Who told thee this ? say. Ismene The sacred ministers Of Delphos. Oedipus Came it from Apollo's shrine ? Ismene On their return to Thebes they did report it. Ismene (Edi. My sons, did they hear aught of this ? Both heard. And know it well. |*referred a kingdom to their father's love, Ismene (Edi. Yet, impious as they are, With grief I tell thee what with grief I heard. Oedipus Oh ! may the gods doom them to endless strife ; Ne'er may the battle cease till CEdipus Himself shall end it ; then, nor he who bears The sceptre now, should long maintain the throne, Nor Polynices e'er to Thebes return ; They should not live who drove a parent forth To misery and exile, left by those Who should have loved, supported, and revered him ; I know they say the city but complied With my request — I asked for banishment ; Not then I asked it. In my desperate mind, When first I raged, I wished indeed for death ; It had been grateful then, but no kind friend Would minister the boon. At length my grief Gave way, and when they saw my troubled soul Had taken ample vengeance on itself. After long stay, the city drove me forth ; And those who could have saved me, my base sons, Deaf to a father's prayers, permit me still To roam abroad in poverty and exile. From these alone, far as their tender sex Can help me, I receive the means of life. All the sweet comfort, food, or needful rest Earth can afford me now, whilst to my sons A throne was dearer than a father's love ; But they shall never gain me for their friend, Ne'er reign in Thebes — these oracles declare They never shall. I do remember too Another prophecy which Phcebus erst Delivered to me : let 'em send their Creon, Or any other powerful citizen. To drag me hence ; my hospitable friends, If to those all-protecting deities Who here preside you too will lend your aid, Athens shall find in me its best defence, And vengeance strike the foes of CEilipus. Chorus Thou and thy daughters well deserve our pity And, for thy words are full of promised good To our loved city, I will tell thee all 'Tis meet thou shouldst perform. Oedipus My best of friends, Instruct me ; I am ready to obey. CiiOR. An expiation instant must thou make To the offended powers whose sacred seat Thou has profaned. GCdi. But how must it be done? Chorus First, with pure hands, from th' ever-flowing spring, Thy due libations pour. Oedipus What follows then? Chorus Take thou a cup wrought by some skilful hand, Bind it \vith wreaths around. Oedipus • Of leaves or threads Composed ? Chorus Of wool, fresh from the new-shorn lamb. Oedipus Is there aught else ? Chorus Then, turning to the sun, Make thy libations. Oedipus From the cup, thou sayst, Chorus The water from three fountains drawn ; and last Remember, none be left. Oedipus With that alone Must it be filled ? Chorus Water with honey mixed — No wine ; this pour on th' earth Chorus (Edi. What then remains? Take in thy hand of olive-boughs thrice nine. And offering these, begin thy humble prayer. Oedipus But how address them ? That concerns me near. Chorus Their name thou knowst implies benevolent : Intreat them therefore kindly now to prove Benevolent to thee ; but, remember, Low be the voice and short the supplication. That done, return — be careful to perform it ; I may assist thee then with confidence, But if thou dost it not, must tremble for thee. Antigone (Edi, My daughters, heard you this ? We did; command What's to be done. Oedipus What I can never do, Powerless and blind as I am ; one of you, My daughters, must perform it. Antigone One alone May do the task of many when the mind Is active in it. Oedipus Hence then, quick, away ! But do not leave me here alone. These limbs Without a guide will never find their way. Ismene Father, I go ; but how to find the place I know not. Chorus Stranger, t' other side of the grove ; There, some inhabitant will soon inform thee, If thou shouldst want assistance or instruction. Ismene Meantime, Antigone, remain thou here. And guard our father well : cares are not cares When we endure them for a parent's sake. Chorus \Exit ISMENE. Scene YII. (Edipus, Antigone, Chorus. Stranger, albeit we know 'tis most ungrateful To raise the sad remembrance of past woes. Yet would we gladly hear Chorus (Edi. What wouldst thou know ? The cause of thy unhappy state, GEdi. Alas ! By all the sacred hospitable rites, I beg thee do not ask me to reveal it ; My crimes are horrible. Chorus Already fame Hath spread them wide, and still talks loudly of them \ Tell us the truth. Oedipus Alas! Chorus Let me beseech thee ! Oedipus O me! Chorus Comply : ask what thou wilt of me, And thou shalt have it. CEiy I have suifered muchj The gods can witness 'twas against my will t. Knew not what ? I knew not of it. Unknowing too, bound me in lioiTid nuptials. OnoR. And didst thou then pollute, as fame reports, Thy mother's bed ? Here, here they are. Chorus (Edi. The city, (Edi. Oh ! death to hear : I did. Who 's there ? Oedipus INIy crimes ! my daughters ! Chorus Daughters and sisters of their father ? Oh ! 'Tis horrible indeed ! Qi^Di. 'Tis woe on woe. Chorus Great Jove ! both daughters of one hapless mother ! What hast thou suffered ? Chorus (Edi. Ills not io be borne. Didst thou then perpetrate the horrid deed ? Chorus (Edi. Oh no ! Not do it ? A fatal gift ; would I had never ta'en it ! Chorus (Edi. I received from Thebes And art thou not a murderer too ? Thou sayst ? Chorus (Edi. What's that Thy father Chorus (Edi. Thou add'st grief to grief. Didst thou not murder him ? Chorus (Edi. I did ; but hear Hear what ? Chorus (Edi. The cause. What cause ? I murdered others too, yet by the laws I stand absolved ; 'twas done in ignorance. Chorus (Edi. I'll tell thee. Know then, {seeh^ Theseus, wJw enters]. But lo ! the king, -(Egean Theseus, comes ; The fame of thee bath brought him here already. TheseuSj CEdipus, Antigone, Uiiokus. Theseus Scene YIII. O son of Laius ! long ere- this the tal« Of thy disastrous fate, by many a tongue Related, I had heard : thy eyes torn forth By thy own desperate hand : and now I see It was too true. Thy garb and dreadful aspect Speak who thou art. Unhappy Qildipus, I come to ask, in pity to thy woes. What 's thy request to Athens or to me — Thine, or this hapless virgin on thy steps Attendant. Speak ; for large must be the boon 1 would refuse thee. I have known too well, Myself a wretched wanderer, the woes Of cruel exile, not to pity thine : Of toils and dangers in a foreign land Much have I suffered ; therefore not to me Shall the poor stranger ever sue in vain For aid and safety. Mortals as we are, Uncertain ever is to-morrow's fate, Alike unknown to Theseus and to thee. Q^Idi. Theseus, thy words declare thy noble nature, And leave me little to reply. Thou knowst My story — who and whence I am ; no more Remains, but that I tell thee my request, And we have done. Theseus Proceed then, and inform me (ipr. I come to give this wretched body to thee, To sight ungracious, but of worth more dear To thee than fairest forms could boast. Theseus What worhih i Oedipus Hereafter thou slialt know — not now Theseus But when Shall we receive it '] When thou shalt bury me. my Theseus (Edi. When I am no more Death is, it seems, Thy chief concern, and life not worth thy cai-e. Theseus (Edi. That will procure me all the means of life. And is this all thou ask'st, this little boon? Oedipus Not little is the strife which shall ensue. Theseus What strife ? With whom — thy children, or own? Thebes. Theseus (Edi. Mine, Theseus; they would have me back to And wouldst thou rather be an exile here? Oedipus Once they refused me. Theseus Anger suits but ill With low estate and miseries like thine. QEdi. Hear first, and then condemn me. Theseus Not unheard All thou canst urge, would I reprove thee. Speak. Oedipus O Theseus ! I have borne the worst of ills. Theseus The curses on thy race ? Oedipus Oh no ! all Greece Hath heard of them. Theseus What more than mortal woe Afihcts thee then ? Oedipus E'en this : my cruel sons Have driven me from my country ; nevermore Must Thebes receive a pariicide. Theseus Why then Recall thee now, if thou must ne'er return ? Oedipus Commanded by an oracle divine. Theseus Why, what doth it declare ? To thee, and to thy arms. Theseus But whence should spring Such dire contention ? Oedipus Dearest fon of Ægeus, From age and death exempt, the gods alone Immortal and unchangeable remain, Whilst all things else fall by the hand of Time, The universal conqueror. Earth laments Her fertile powers exhausted. Human strength Is withered soon. E'en faith and truth decay, That Thebes shall yield And from their ashes fraud and falsehood rise. Nor friendship long from mjtn to man endures, Or realm to realm. To each successive rise Bitter and sweet, and happiness and woe. Athens and Thebes thou seest united now, And all is well; but passing time shall bring The fatal day (and slight will be the cause) That soon shall change the bonds of amity And holy faith, for feuds and deadliest hate. Then, buried long in earth, shall this cold corse Drink their warm blood, which from the mutual wound Frequent shall flow. It must be as I tell thee. If Jove be Jove, and great Apollo true. But why should I reveal the fixed decree Of all-deciding Heaven ? Permit me now To end where I began. Thy plighted faith Once more confirm, and never shalt thou say The wretched OEdipus to Theseus came An useless and unprofitable guest, If the immortal gods have not deceived me. Chorus O king ! already hath this man declared The same goodwill to thee and to our country. Thes. Can I reject benevolence and love Like this, my friends? Oh no ! the common rites Of hospitality, this altar here, The witness of our mutual vows, forbid it ; He comes a suppliant to the goddesses, And pays no little tribute both to me And to my kingdom ; he shall find a seat Within my realms, for I revere his virtues. If here it pleaseth him to stay, remember \to the Chorus 'Tis my command you guard this stranger well ; If thou wouldsb rather go with me, thou mayst ; I leave it to thy choice. \To CEdipus. Theseus (Edi. Reward them, Jove. What sayst thou ? wilt thou follow me? O^Idi. I would, If it were lawful, but it must be here — This is the place- Theseus For what ? I'll not deny thee- Theseus (Edi. Where I mast conquer those who banished me. That would be glory and renown to this Thy place of refuge. O^Di. If I may depend On thy fair piomise. Theseus Fear not, I shall ne'er Betray my friend. Oedipus I will not bind thee to it By oath, like those whom we suspect of ill. Theseus Thou needst not, CEdipus ; my word 's my oath. Theseus (Edi. How must I act then 1 Fear'st thou aught 1 A force will come against me. Theseus (Edi. I do. [pomting to the Chorus]. Here 's thy guard ; These shall protect thee. And save me, Theseus. Theseus (Edi. If thou goest, remember Teach not me my duty. Theseus (Edi. Still am I fearful. Theseus is not so. Theseus (Edi. Knowest thou not what they threatened? This I know, No power on earth shall wrest thee from this place. Oftimes the angry soul will vent its wrath In idle threats, with high and empty words, Which ever, as the mind is to itself Restored, are — nothing. They may boast their strength, And say they '11 tear thee from me ; but I tell thee The journey would be long and tedious to them ; They will not hazard it — they dare not : therefore Be comforted, for if by Phcebus sent Thou hither cam'st, thou'rt safe without my aid, E'en if I leave thee safe ; for know, the name Of Theseus here sufficeth to protect thee. Thou art come in happy time, Stranger, to this blissful clime, Long for swiftest steeds renowned, Fertilest of the regions round ; Where, beneath the ivy shade. In the dew-sprinkled glade. Many a love-lorn nightingale Warbles sweet her plaintive tale ; Where the vine in clusters pours Her sweets, secured from wintry showers Nor scorching suns, nor raging storm The beauties of the year deform. Where the sweet narcissus growing. Where the yellow crocus blowing, Round the sacred altars twine. Offering to the powers divine ; Where the pure springs perpetual flow^ Watering the verdant meads below. Which with its earth-enriching waves The fair Cephisus ever laves ; Where, with his ever-sporting train, Bacchus wantons on the plain, Pleased with the Muses still to rove, And golden Venus, queen of love. Alone within this happy land, Planted here by Nature's hand. Which, nor Asia's fertile plains. Nor Pelops' spacious isle contains, Pallas, thy sacred olive grows, Striking terror on our foes ; Ever free from hostile rage, From wanton youth or greedy age ; Happy in sage Minerva's love, And guarded still by Morian Jove. But nobler gifts and fairer fame, Athens, yet adorn thy name ; Such wondrous gifts hath poured on thee, Thy great protecting deity. Here first obedient to command, Formed by Neptune's skilful hand, The steed was taught to know the rein, And bear the chariot o'er the plain ; Here first along the rapid tide The stately vessels learned to ride, And swifter down the currents flow Than Nereids cut the waves below. [Exeunt. Antigone [Exit Theseus. Scene IX. (Edipus, Antigone, Chorus Arttistrophe i. Strophe 2. Antistrophe 2. ACT II. Scene I. OEdipus, Chorcs. Antigone Great are thy praises, Attica, and now The time is come to show thou dost deserve them. Oedipus What means my daughter ? Speak ; what new event Alarms thee? Antigone Creon, with a numerous band Of followers, comes this way. If ever, help me. Chorus (Edi. Oh ! now, my friends. Fear not ; we'll protect thee. Though I am old, the strength of Attica Is not decayed. Creon {li^ith Attendants), CEdipus, Antigone, Creon Scene II. Most honoured citizens, I see you look with eyes of fear upon me, Without a cause ; for know, I came not here Intending aught of violence or ill Against a city so renowned in Greece As yours hath ever been ; I only came, Commissioned by the State of Thebes, to fetch This old man back, if by persuasion mild I could induce him to return \ not sent By one alone, but the united voice Of a whole people, who assigned the task To me because, by blood united to him, I felt for his misfortunes as my own. Come therefore, Qlldipus, attend me home ; Thebes calls thee back, thy kingdom now demands thee — By me she calls thee ; listen to thy friend, For surely Creon were the worst of men. If he could look on woes like thine unmoved When I behold thee, in a foreign land A wretched wanderer, forced to beg thy bread From place to place, with this unhappy maid, Whom little did I think to see exposed To misery and shame, of nuptial rites Hopeless, and thus bereft of every aid, — Oh ! 'tis reproach and infamy to us And to our race ; but 'tis already known, And cannot be concealed. O CEdipus ! I here beseech thee, by our country's gods, Return to Thebes ; bid thou a kind farewell — For she deserves it — to this noble city, But still remember thy own dearer country. Beneath fair semblance mean but to betray, Why wouldst thou tempt me thus? Why thus once more K fQO Ensnare me in thy toils, and make me still More wi-etched than I am ? Long time oppressed By heaviest woes, I pined within my palace, And longed for exile ; but you then refused To let nie go, till, satiated with grief, My soul at length was calm, and much I wished To spend my few remaining years at home : Then thou — for little did the kindred blood Thou talkst of then avail — didst banish me ; And now again thou com'st to make me wretched. Because thou seest this kind benignant city Embrace and cherish, thou wouldst drag me hence, With sweetest words covering thy bitter mind, Professing love to those who choose it not. He who denies his charitable aid To the poor beggar in his utmost need, And if abundance comes, should offer that Which is not wanted, little merits thanks. Such is thy bounty now — in word alone, And not in deed, the friend of Q^^dipus. But I will tell them what thou art. Thou cam'st not To take me hence, but leave me in the borders Of Thebes, that so thy kingdom may escape The impending ills which this avenging city Shall pour upon it ; but 'twill come to pass As I foretold : my evil genius still Slmll haunt yon, and my sons no more of Thebes Inherit than shall serve them for a grave. Thy country's fate is better known to me Than to thyself, for my instruction comes From surer guides — from Phoebus and from Jove. Thy artful speech shall little serve thy purpose, 'Twill only hurt thy cause : therefore begone ! I'm not to be persuaded. Let me live In quiet here, for, wretched as I am, 'Twill be some comfort to be far from thee. Cbeon. Thinkst thou I heed thy words ? Who'll suffer most For this perverseness — thou, or I ? Or with my friends. Crbon. Poor wretch ! no time can cure Thy follies ; thy old age is grown delirious. Oedipus (Edi, Thou daring hypocrite, whose specious wiles (Edi. Thy little arts will nought avail with me, Thou hast a hateful tongue ; but few, how just Soe'er they be, can always speak aright. Creon But to say much, and to say well, are things Which difier widely. Oedipus What thou sayst no doubt Is brief, and proper too. Ceeon. 'Twill hardly seem so To those who think like thee. Direct my steps, as if thou hadst the power To place me where thou wilt. Oreon. Kemember all To witness this, for he shall answer it When he is mine. Against the will of these my friends ? Ore. Their aid Is vain, already I have done what much Will hurt thee. Creon (Edi. Away ; nor dare (Edi. But who shall force me hence (Edi. Ha ! what threats are these % Thy daughters Must go with me ; one is secured, and now This moment will I wrest the other from thee. Creon (Edi. 0 me ! I'll give thee much more cause for grief. Creon (Edi. Hast thou my daughter? Ay, and will have this. Will you forsake me? Will you not drive this vile, abandoned man Forth from your city? Chorus (Edi. \to the Chorus]. What will you do, my friends? Stranger, hence, away ! Thy actions are most shameful and unjust. Creon Slaves, do your office ; bear her off" by force, If she consents not. Antigone Whither shall I fly For aid ? What god or man shall I implore To succour me ? Chorus Alas ! what wouldst thou do? Creon 1 touch not him, but I must have my' Antigone O princes ! aid me now. Chob. 'Tis most unjust. Creon I say 'tis just. Chorus Then prove it. Creon They are mine. Chorus O citizens ! Antigone Oh ! loose me : if you do not, You shall repent this violence. Creon Go on, I will defend you. G^^Di. He, who injures me, Oifends the city. Chorus Said I not before It would be thus 1 Creon [to the Chorus]. Let go the maid this instant. Chorus Command where thou hast power. Creon Let her go. Chorus Begone thyself. What, ho ! my countrymen, The city is in danger ; haste and save us. Antigone [Creoh'b followers seize on Antigone. I'm seized, my friends. Oh, help ! Oedipus Where is my daughter 'i Antigone Torn from thee. OEdi Oh ! stretch forth thy hand. Antigone I cannot. Creon Away with her Oedipus O wretched CEdipus ! Creon No longer shall these tender props support Thy feeble age ; since thou art still resolved Against thyself, thy country, and thy friends, By whose command. I come, remain perverse And obstinate, old man ; but know, hereafter Time will convince thee thou hast ever been Thy own worst foe ; thy fiery temper still Must make thee wretched. Chorus Stranger, stir not hence. Creon I charge you, touch me not. Chorus Thou shalt not go Till thou restor'st the virgins. Creon I must have A nobler I'ansom from your city ; these Shall not suffice. Chorus What meanst thou ? Creon He shall go, This (Edipus. Chorus Thy threats are terrible. Creon I'll do 't ; and only he who governs here Shall hinder me. CEp1. O insolence! thou wilt not, Thou dar'st not force me. Creon Hold thy peace. The dreadful goddesses, who here preside, Should bind my tongue from heaviest curses on thee, For thou hast robbed me of the only light These eyes could boast ; but may th' all-seeing sun Behold and punish thee and all thy race. And load thy age with miseries like mine ! Creon (Edi. Not e'en Inhabitants of Athens, hear ye this ? I can repay the injuries I receive ; For I am weak with age, and here alone. Creon (Edi. They do, and see that but with fruitless words No longer will I curb my just resentment, But force thee hence. Chorus (Edi. 0 me ! What boldness, stranger, Could make thee hope to do a deed like this Unpunished ? Creon 'Tis resolved. Chorus Our Athens then Is fallen indeed, and is no more a city. Creon In a just cause the weak may foil the mighty. Chorus (Edi. Hear how he threatens What he'll ne'er perform. Creon That Jove alone can tell. Chorus Shall injuries Like these be suftered 1 Creon Call it injury Thou mayst, 'tis such as thou perforce must bear. Chorus This is too much ; ye rulers of the land My fellow-citizens, come forth and save us. ~ (EDIPVS COLONEUii, Scene III. TiiE.sEi's, CiiEON, (Ei)ii'us, Antioone, Chorus. Tjii:. Whence is this clamour? Wherefore ain I calie<l From sacred rites at Neptune's altar paid, Our guardian god ? Say, what's the cause that thus In hiiste I'm summoned hither? Oedipus O my friend ! — Foi* well I know thy voice— most cruelly Have I been treated by this man. Theseus Who did it? from me My only help, my daughters. Theseus (Edi. This Creon, whom thou seest, hath ravished Ha ! wliat sayst thou ? Oedipus 'Tis as I tell thee. Theseus \to his Attendants], Quick, dispatch my servant^. Fly to the altar, summon all my people, Horsemen and foot ; give o'er the sacrifice, And instant to the double gate repair, Lest with the virgins the base ravishers Escape unpunished, and my guest thus injui-ed Laugh me to scorn for cowardice Away! Were I to punish this oppressor here \tuming to Ceeox As my resentment bids and he deserves. He should this instant fall beneath my rage ; But the same justice he to others deals. Himself shall meet from us ; thou shalt not go Till those whom thou didst basely ravish hence Are brought before me. 'Twas unlike thyself, Unworthy of thy country and thy race. To enter thus a cultivated city. Where law and justice reign, with violence And rapine, snatching what thy fancy pleased. Or didst thou think I ruled a desert land. Or that my people were a race of slaves. And Theseus but the shadow of a king ? Thebes never taught thee such destnictive lessons, For she abhors injustice : when she heai's That Creon, thus despising sacred laws, Hath ta'en with brutal violence my right, And would have stolen a wretched suppliant from me, She'll not approve thy conduct ; say I went To Thebes, how just soever were the cause, I should not seize on aught without the lea-ve Of him who governed there ; but, as becomes A stranger, bear myself unblamed by all. Thou hast disgraced thy country and thy friends, And weight of years hath ta'en thy senses from thee. Again I say, restore the virgins to me. Or stay with me thyself, for so thou shalt, Howe'er unwilling \ what I've said, remember. Is what I have resolved — therefore determine. Chok. \to Creon]. Stranger, thy actions, noble as thou art. But ill become thy family and name. Because unjust ; but thou beholdst thy fate. Creon Theseus, it was not that I thought this city Without or guards to save, or laws to rule, Which brought me here, nor unadvised I came ; But that I hoped you never would receive My kindred here against my will, nor e'er Embrace a vile incestuous parricide, Or cherish and protect him in a land Whose court, renowned for justice, suffers not Such poor abandoned exiles to reside Within its borders ; therefore did 1 this, Which yet I had not done but for the curses Which he hath poured on me and all my race ; Ileven,afe inspired me ; anger, well thou knowst, Can never be extinguished but by death. Which closeth every wound. At present, Theseus, It must be as thou wilt ; my want of power, How just soe'er my cause, demands submission ; Yet, old and weak, I shall not tamely yield. Oedipus Audacious man ! thinkst thou the vil«3 reproach Thou utter'st falls on me, or on thyself? Thou who upbraidst me thus for all my woes. Murder and incest, which against my will I had committed, so it pleased the gods, But 1 am guiltless ; canst thou name a fault Deserving this ? For, tell me, Avas it mine, Wlien to my father Phujbus did declare That he should one day perish by the hand Of his own child? Was CEdipus to blame. Who had no being then ? If, born at length To wretchedness, he met his sire unknown, And slew him, that involuntary deed Canst thou condemn ? And for my fatal marriage, Dost thou not blush to name it ? Was not she Thy sister, she who bore me, ignorant And guiltless woman, afterwards my wife, And mother to my children? What she did, fShe did unknowing ; not like thee, who thus Dost purposely upbraid us both. Heaven knows Unwillingly I w^edded her, and now Unwillingly repeat the dreadful tale ; But, nor for that, nor for my murdered father, Have I deserved thy bitter taunts ; for tell me. Thy life attacked, wouldst thou have stayed to ask Th' assassin if he were t\\j father ? No ; Self-love would urge thee to revenge the insult. Thus was I drove to ill by th' angry gods ; This, should my father's soul revisit earth. Himself would own, and pity CEdipus. Thy bold and impious tongue still utters all ; Just or unjust, thou pourst thy foul reproach On me, pretending to revere the name Of Theseus and his countiy. But remember, The city, whom thou hast praised, is famed For piety and reverence to the gods ; Yet wouldst thou drive a needy suppliant thence, And lead him captive. Thou hast stolen my daughter ; But I implore the dreadful goddesses To grant me aid, that thou mayst feel the power Which thou contemn'st, and know the force of Athens. Chorus (JHended at my race for former crimes ; [to Theseus]. O king ! this stranger merits thy regard ; His woes are great, his cause should be defended. Theseus No more the ravishers are fled with, speed, Whilst we, who suffer, stand inactive here. Creon Speak thy commands, for I must yield to thee. Theseus Go thou before me, I shall follow close ; If here thou hast concealed the virgins, now Discover them ; if hence, to others' hands Committed, they are fled, they shall not 'scape ; My servants soon will fetch them back. Meantime, Remember thy condition, for thy fate Hath caught thee in the net which thou hadst spread For others ; but what evil means acquire Is seldom kept : thou cam'st not naked here, Or unattended, thus to do an act Of violence. Ere long 1 11 know on what Thou didst rely, nor by a single arm Shall Athens fall inglorious. Hearst thou this, Or are my words unheeded ? Creon 'Tis not now A time to answer ; we shall know at home What must be done. Theseus Thou threatenest ; but go on. Stay thou in quiet here, for if I live, I will not rest till I restore thy daughters. Oedipus \turninij to OEdipus \Extimt Theseus and Creo.v. Scene IV. Chorus. Now the combatants prepare, And hasten to the field of war, Theseus StropliQ I. their great and god-like friend, The hapless virgins shall defend. Oh ! could I hear the dreadful battle roar, Or near Apollo's sacred shrine, Or on the torch -enlightened shore, Or Ceres, where thy priests their rights divine Perform, with lips in solemn silence sealed, And mysteries ne'er by mortal tongue revealed. At yon snowy mountain's feet Westward perchance the warriors meet ; Chariot and horse with mutual rage On CEta's ilowery plains engage ; Around their Theseus now, a valiant band, See Athens' martial sons unite To save their native land ; All shake their glittering spears, and urge the fight ; All who thy power, Equestrian Pallas, own, Or bow to Neptune, Rhea's honoured son, The bloody scene shall soon be o'er Creon the virgin shall restoi-e ; My soul prophetic sees the maid For pious duty thus repaid ; For ever active is the power of Jove, From whom perpetual blessings flow : Oh ! that I now could, like the dove, Soar through the skies, and mai-k the field below. The wished-for conquest joyful to behold. And triumph in the victory I foretold ! Thou power supreme, all powers above, All-seeing, all-performing Jove, Grant that the rulers of this land May soon subdue the hostile band ! Tliee, too, O Pallas ! hunter Phoebus, thee Do we invoke, with thee be joined Thy virgin sister deity, Who loves o'er lawns to chase the spotted hind ; On you w^e call, your aid propitious bring, Oh 1 haste, protect our country and our king. [ExeunL Chorus Antistrophe i. Sti'ojyhe 2. Antistrojihe 2. ACT III. Scene 1. (Edipus, Theseus, Antigone, Ismene, I'm no false prophet, stranger, for behold Thy daughters. Oedipus Ha ! what sayst thou ? Where, oh ! where ? Antigone My father ! O my father ! what kind god Raised up this friend who hath restored us to thee ? Oedipus Are then my daughters with me? Antigone Theseus' arm Hath brought us here : to him and to his friends We owe our safety. Oedipus Oh ! come nigh, my children ; Let me embrace you. Never did I think Again to fold you in these arms. Antigone We come With joy, my father. Oedipus Oh ! where are you ? Antigone Here. Oedipus My dearest children ! Antigone To our father still May every pleasure come ! Oedipus ^eaniyig on Antigone]. My best support ! Antigone The wretched bear the wretched. Oedipus \emhracing them]. I have all That 's precious to me : were I now to die Whilst you are here, I should not be unhappy. Support me, daughters, to your father's side Close pressed. Oh ! soothe to peace a wretched exile. Long time deserted. Tell me what hath happened ; But let the tale be short, as best becomes Thy tender age. Antigone [pointing to Theseus]. Here is our great pro- tector. He will inform you; so shall what I speak Be brief, as thou wouldst have it. My children thus beyond my hopes restored. If I should talk too long on such a theme, Thou wilt not wonder. 'Tis to thee alone I owe my joys ; thou didst protect and save My much-loved daughters : may the gods repay Thee and thy kingdom for this goodness to me ! Here only have I found or faith, or truth, Or justice ; you alone possess them all. I ^vill attest it, for 1 know it well. I feel your virtues ; what I have is all From you. O king ! permit me but to touch Thy hand. Oh ! stretch it forth ; or let me kiss Thy honoured lips. But, oh ! what do I say ? Can such a wretch as CEdipus e'er hope With guilty hands to touch a man like thee, So pure, so spotless ? Yet I must embrace thee ; They only who have known misfortune feel For others' griefs with sympathizing woe. Hail, best of men ! and mayst thou ever be. As thou hast been, my guardian and my friend ! Theseus (Edi. Noble Theseus, Thus happy as thou must be in thy children, Hadst thou said more, much more, and talked to them Rather than me, it had not moved my wonder ; Nor think I should resent it. Not by w^ords Would Theseus be distinguished, but by deeds Illustrious. This thou knowst, for what I swore I have performed — restored thy daughters to thee, Safe from the tyrant's threats. How passed the conflict Why should I boast ? They at their leisure best May tell you all. Meantime to what I heard As hither coming, CEdipus, attend. Of little import seemed the circumstance. And yet 'twas strange ; but nought should mortal man Deem or beneath his notice or his care. For nothing have I heard. Theseus (Edi. What is it, son of ^geus ? Oh ! inform me, a man, they say. Who boasts himself by blood allied to thee. At Neptune's altar, whilst I sacrificed, In humblest posture stood. Oedipus What could it mean? Whence came he? Theseus That I know not \ this alone They told me : suppliant he requested much To talk a while with thee. Oedipus With me? 'Tis strange, And yet methinks important. Theseus He desired But to converse with thee, and then depart. Oedipus Who can it be ? Theseus Hast thou no friend at Argos, None of thy kindred there who wished to see thee ? Oedipus No more, my friend. Theseus What sayst thou ? Oedipus Do not ask me. Theseus Ask what Oedipus I know him now ; I know too well Who 's at the altar. Theseus Who is it ? Oedipus My son — That hateful son, whose voice I loathe to hear. Theseus But why not hear him? Still thou mayst refuse What he shall ask. Oedipus I cannot, cannot bear it : Do not oblige me. Theseus But the sacred place Where now he stands, and reverence to the gods, Demand it of thee. Antigone Let me, O my father ! Young as I am, admonish thee. Oh ! grant Thy friend his just request; obey the gods, And let our brother come : whate'er he says It need not draw thee from thy first resolve. What harm to hear him ? Words have oft produced The noblest works. Remember, 'tis thy child — Thou didst beget him ; though he were the worst Of sons to thee, yet would it ill become A father to return it. Let him come. Others like thee have base, unwortliy children, And yet their minds are softened to forgiveness By friends' ad\ace, and all their wTath subdued. Think on thy own unhappy parent's fate, Thence mayst thou learn what dreadful ills have flowed From anger's bitter fountain ; thou, alas ! Art a sad proof ; those sightless eyes too well Bear witness to it. Those who only ask What justice warrants, should not ask in vain ; Nor who receives a benefit, forget The hand that gave, but study to repay it. Oedipus You have o'ercome me : with reluctant pleasure I }ield. My children, be it as you please ; But if he comes, O Theseus ! guard my life. Theseus I've said enough ; no more. I will not boast, But thou art safe if Heaven forsake not me. In sacred wisdom's path is seldom seen The wretch, whom sordid love of wealth inspires ; Neglectful of the happy golden mean, His soul nor truth nor heavenly knowledge fires ; No length of days to him can pleasure bring, In death alone he finds repose, End of his wishes and his woes; In that uncomfortable night Where never music's charms delight, Nor virgin choirs their hymeneals sing. The happiest fate of man is not to be ; And next in bliss is he who soon as bom, From the vain world and all its sorrows free, Shall whence he came with speediest foot return ; For youth is full of folly, toils, and woes, Of war, sedition, pain, and strife. With all the busy ills of life. Till helpless age come creeping on, Deserted, friendless, and alone. Which neither power nor joy nor pleasure knows. E'pode. The hapless CEdipus, like me, Is doomed to age and misery ; E'en as around the northern shore The bleak winds howl and tempests roar, Contending storms in terror meet, And dashing waves for ever beat; Thus is the wretched king with grief oppressed, And woes on woes afflict his long-distempered breast. Oedipus Scene II. Stro2ohe. Antistroplie. \Exe,ihnt. ACT IV. Scene I. Antigone, Ismene, Chorus. Antigone This way, my father. Lo ! the wretched man Oedipus Approaches, unattended, and in tears. Antigone (Edi. Who comes, my child % E'en he I told thee of- Poor Polj^nices. Polynices Scene II. CEdipus, Antigone, Ismene, Chorus. Pol. O my sisters ! see Of all mankind the most unhappy. Where Shall I begin? shall I lament my own, Or shall I weep an aged parent's fate? For, oh ! 'tis horrible to find him thus A wandering exile in a foreign land ; In this moan garb, with wild dishevelled hair, Bereft of sight, and destitute, perhaps, Of needful food and nourishment. Alas ! Too late I know it ; worthless jus I am, I flew to succour him, to plead my cause. That not from others he might hear the talo Of my misfortunes. Sacred pity sits Fast by the throne of Jove, o'er all his works Presiding gracious. Oh ! let her inspire Thy breast, my father. Ciimes already done. Which cannot be recalled, may still be healed By kind forgiveness : why, then, art thou silent 1 Oh ! speak, my father ; do not turn aside. Wilt thou not answer ? Wilt thou let me go Without one word ; nor tell me whence thy wrath Contemptuous springs 1 My sisters, you at least Will try to move his unrelenting heart. And loosen his closed lips, that not thus spurned And thus unanswered, though a suppliant here At Neptune's altar, I return with shame And foul disgrace. Antigone Say, wherefore didst thou come, My hapless brother 1 Tell thy mournful tale ; Such is the power of words, that whether sweet They move soft pity, or when bitter urge To violence and wrath, at least they ope Th' unwilling lips, and make the silent speak. Polynices 'Tis well advised, and I will tell thee all. Oh ! may that deity propitious smile Whose altar late I left, whence Theseus raised This w^retched suppliant, and in converse free Mixed gracious with me ! May I hope from you The like benevolence ? And now, my father, I'll tell thee wherefore Polynices came. Thou seest me banished from my native land — Unjustly banished, for no other crime But that I strove to keep the throne of Thebes, By birthright mine, from him who drove me thence. The young Eteocles : not his the claim By justice, nor to me his fame in arms Superior ; but by soft persuasive arts He won the rebel city to his love. Thy curse, my father, was the cause of all — I know it was ; for so the priests declared In oracles divine. To Argos then I came, and, to Adrastus' daughter joined In marriage, gained the Argive chiefs, renowned For martial deeds ; seven valiant leaders march To Thebes, resolved to conquer or to die. Therefore to thee, my father, came I here, To beg thy aid for me and these my friends, Companions of the war, who threaten Thebes With their united powers, in order thus : The wise and brave Amphiaraus, or skilled To cast the spear, or with prophetic tongue Disclose the will of Heaven ; with CEneus' son -^tolian Tydeus, and Eteocles, At Argos born ; to these Hippomedon, Sent by Talaus, his renowned sire ; Bold Capaneus, who threatens soon to raze The walls of mighty Thebes ; to close the train, Parthenopsean Areas comes, the son Of Atalantis, from her virgin name So called. With these thy hapless son (the child Of dire misfortune rather) leads his force From Argos to rebellious Thebes. For these, And for their children, for the lives of all, Suppliant to thee we come — in humble prayer To deprecate thy wrath against a wretch Who, injured much, but seeks the vengeance due To a base brother, whose oppressive hand Hath drove me from my country and my throne. If there be truth in what the gods declare, On him shall victory smile for whom thy vows Shall rise propitious ; therefore, by our gods And native fountains, oh ! remit thy anger, And smile upon me, on a banished man, A beggar like thyself, who lives, like thee, By others' bounty — in one common fate We are united, whilst the tyrant sits In ease at home, and laughs our woes to :<corn. Yet if thou wouldst but listen to my vows, Soon might I cast him forth, restore thee soon To thy dear native hind, and seat myself In my own kingdom. Thy assent, my father, Is all I ask ; but, oh ! without thy aid I have no hope of safety or revenge. Chorus (EDIPUS COLObiEUS, For Theseus' sake, oh ! give him answer now, And let him go. Who hither brought him did request it of me, He ne'er had heard the voice ef Qildipus ; And little pleasure will it now bestow. Ungrateful wretch ! who, when the throne of Thebes, Where now thy brother sits, was thine, didst drive Thy father hence, to penury and woe. Now, when thou seest me in this mean attire. Thou weepst my fate because 'tis Uke thy own ; But I'll not weep, for I can bear it all, Still, wicked parricide, remembering thee. The cruel cause of all ; thou mad'st me thus On others' bounty to rely for food And nourishment ; for thee, I might have perished. But these my pious daughters, these alone, Beyond their sex's power, with manly aid Have cherished and protected me. For you, Who call yourselves my sons, ye are not mine — I know you not ; though Heaven hath spared you long, Death will o'ertake you. When thy forces come To Thebes, which shall not fall before thy arms. There soon shalt thou, and thy vile bi'other, die. Long since my curses did declare thy fate. Which here I do repeat, that you may learn The reveience due to parents, and no more Reproach a sightless father. Look on these. My duteous daughters : did they act like you 1 They never did ; and therefore to the throne Which you have forfeited shall they succeed, If justice still, as she is ever wont. Sits at the hand of Jove. Meantime thou worst, Thou most abandoned of the race of men, Begone — away ! and with thee bear this curse Which here I do pronounce : To Argos ne'er Mayst thou return ! never may Thebes be thine ! Soon mayst thou perish by a brother's hand, Slaying the slayer ! may dark Erebus Receive them both ! And now on you I call, Ye goddesses revered, and thou, O Mars ! Thou who hast raised the bitter strife between My impious sons, bear witness to my words ! Farewell ! Now go, and tell the Thebans, tell Thy faithful friends, how fair an heritage Your CEdipus hath here bequeathed his children. Chorus (Edi. But that the noble Theseus, \tuming to Polynices O Polynices ! little is the joy Which we can give thee of this fatal journey ; Therefore away and leave us. Polynices A sad path These steps have trod indeed, of woe to me And to my friends. Was it for this, alas ! I came from Argos? I can never tell My mournful story there, never return ; Oh ! I must bury it in silence all. My sisters, ye have heard the dreadful curse Which he pronounced. Oh ! if it be fulfilled. And some kind hand restore you back to Thebes, At least remember me ; at least perform The funeral rights, and hide me in the tomb ; So shall your names, for pious tenderness To an unhappy father long revered, With added praises crowned, exalted shine. For this kind office to a brother's shade. Antigone O Polynices ! let me beg thee, hear Thy sister now. What sayst thou? Antigone Lead thy armies back to Argos, Nor thus destroy thy country and thyself. Polynices It cannot be ; my forces once dismissed Through fear, what power shall e'er reunite them ? Antigone But wherefore all this rage? What canst thou hope Of fame or profit by the fall of Thebes ? Polynices 'Tis base to fly, and, eldest born ns I am, To be tlie laughter of a younger brother. Antigone Dost thou not dread the oracles pronounced Against you both — death by each other's hand? Polynices I know the sentence ; but we must go on. Antigone Alas ! and who shall dare to follow thee After this dire prediction ? Polynices None shall know It. The prudent general tells the good alone. And keeps the threatened ill unknown to all. Antigone Art thou determined then, and wilt thou go ? Polynices Do not dissuade me, for the task is mine ; And though a father's fatal curse attend me. Though vengeful furies shall await my steps, Yet I must go. May Jove indulgent smile On you, my sisters, if when I am dead. As soon I shall be, to my breathless corpse You pay due honours ! Now, farewell for ever, For living ye shall ne'er again behold me. Antigone Alas ! my brother ! Polynices Do not weep for me. Antigone Who would not weep to see thee rushing thus On certain death? Polynices If I must die, I must. Antigone Yet bo persuaded. Polynices Ask me not to do A deed unworthy of me. Antigone Losing thee, I shall be most unhappy. Polynices To the gods Alone belong the fate of mortals ; some Are born to happiness and some to woe : You may they guard from every ill, for sure Ye merit all the good they can bestow. Oedipus \Exit Polynices Scene III. Antigone, Ismene, Chorus. Chorus Fresli sorrows hath this hapless stranger brought On me and all ; but so hath Heaven decreed, Which nothing doth in vain ; whilst time beholds And orders all, inflicting woe on woe. But, hark ! the thunder roars : almighty Jove ! Oedipus My daughters ! O my daughters I who will bring The noble Theseus here, that best of men? Antigone Wherefore, my father, should we call liim hither ? Must bear me to the shades below. Where 's Theseus? Let him be sent for instantly. Chorus (Edi. This winged lightning from the arm of Jove Again, Another dreadful clap ! It strikes my soul With horror, and my hairs do stand on end With fear. Behold, again the lightnings flash ! I dread the consequence, for not in vain These signs appear of some calamity Portentous ever, O ethereal Jove ! Oedipus Alas ! my children, nought can save me now ; The fatal hour of my departure hence Draws nigh. Antigone Why thinkst thou so? Oedipus I know it well. Send for the king immediately. Chorus Alas ! The thunder rolls on every side. Good Heaven, Protect us ! If to this devoted land It bodes destruction, let not ruin fall On me. Oh ! let not that be our reward For pitying thus a poor deserted stranger. O Jove ! on thee we call : protect and save us ! Whilst yet I live, and keep my perfect mind \ azDipus COLO XE us. Chorus (Edi. Is Theseus come % shall he once more behold me, What secret hast thou to reveal to him? Oedipus I owe him much, and would repay his good)io^ E'en n.s I promised him. Chorus Oh ! haste, my son ; At Neptune's altar leave the sacrifice And hither fly, for Ql^ dipus, to thee And to tliy country grateful, waits to pay Thy bounties. Haste, O Theseus ! to receive them. Theseus Scene IV. Oedipus, Antigone, Ismene, Chorus. Theseus Again this noise, this wild astonishment, Amongst you all ! Was QEdipus the cause ? Or did the bolt of Jove and rushing hail Affright you 1 When the god in raging storms Descends thus dreadful, we have cause to fear. Propitious led thee hither. Theseus (Edi. 0 king ! thou com'st in happy hour ; some god Son of Laius, What new event hath happened ? Oedipus Know, my life At length is verging to its latest hour ; I wish to die, but first my vows to thee, And to this city, faithful must perform. Theseus But who hath told thee thou so soon shalt die ? Oedipus The gods themselves, who never utter falsehood. By signs infallible have warned me of it. Theseus How spake they to thee? QSdi. In repeated thunder And lightning from th' all- powerful hand of Jove. Oedipus I do believe thee, for thy prophecies Were never false ; but say, what must be done ? The bliss reserved for thee in thy age — For thee, and for thy country. I must go To my appointed place, and there shall die : I go without a guide, nor must thou tell To mortal ear where CEdipus doth He, For ever hid. O king ! that sacred place Shall be thy sure defence, and better far Than many a shield, or all the social aid Of firm alliance in the field of war. What more remains, unutterable now, Of higher import, thither when thou com'st To thee alone shall be delivered ; nought Shall I reveal, or to the citizens, Or e'en to those, beloved as they are. My pious daughters. Thou must ever keep The solemn secret ; only, when thy life Draws near its end, disclose it to thy son, Heir of thy kingdom, and to him alone. Erom king to king thus shall the tale devolve, And thus thy Athens be for ever safe From Theban force \ even the best of cities, Where justice rules, may swerve from virtue's laws And be oppressive ; but the gods, though late, Will one day punish all who disobey Their sacred mandates; therefore, son of ^geus, Be careful and be just : but this to thee I need not say. Quick, let us to the place, For so the gods decree ; there must I go, Thence never to return. Come then, my daughteis : Long have you been my pious guides ; hencefortli I must be yours. Follow, but touch me not ; Let me find out the tomb where I must hide My poor remains : that way my journey lies. Away : thou god of shades, gi^eat Mercury, And Proserpine, infernal powers, conduct me ! O sightless eyes ! where are ye ? Never more Shall these hands touch your unavailing orbs. O light and life ! farewell : at length I go To hide me in the tomb ; but oh ! for tliee. My best beloved friend, and this fair land. And these thy subjects, may prosperity Attend you still, and may you sometimes dei-u Amidst your bliss to think on (Edipus ! [Exeunt, Theseus Ciioii. Goddess invisible, on thee we call, Theseus If thee we may invoke, Proserpina, and thee Theseus Great Pluto, king of shades, oh ! gmnt That not, oppressed by torturing pain, Beneath the stroke of death he Unger long, But swift with easy steps descend. To Styx's drear abode ; For he hath led a life of toil and pain; May the just gods repay his undeserved woe ! Ye goddesses revered, who dwell Beneath the earth deep hid, and thou. Theseus Who, barking from thy gloomy cave, Unconquered Cerberus, guardst the ghosts below, On thee, O son of Tartarus ! we call, For thou art ever wakeful — lead, oh ! lead To thy dark mansions this unhappy stranger. Messenger (Edi. O son of ^geus ! I will tell thee all \Pointing with his hand. [Exeunt. ACT V. Scene I. Chorus. Messenger O citizens ! I come to tell a tale But to be brief, know, OEdipus is dead. To speak the manner and strange circumstance Of his departure will require more words, And calls for your attention. Chorus Is he gone ? Unhappy man ! Messenger For ever hath he left The path of life. Chorus How died he? — by the hand Of Heaven dismissed, without disease or pain? Messenger Oh ! 'twas a scene of wonder. How he left This place, and, self-conducted, led us on, Blind as he was, ye all remember well. Soon as he came to where the craggy steep With brazen steps leads to the hollow gulf, Where various paths unite, a place renowned For the famed league of Theseus and his friend, Between Acherdus and the Thracian rock, On a sepulchral stone he sat him down ; Pulled off the lilthy weeds he long had worn, And bade his daughters instantly prepare The bath and splendid garb ; with hasty steps To Ceres' neighbouring altar they repair Obedient, bring the vessel, and the robe Funereal. All things done as custom bids For dying men, sudden a dreadful clap Of thunder shook the ground ; the virgins trembled, And clinging fearful round their father's knees Beat their sad breasts, and wept. Soon as he heard The sound portentous, he embraced his daughters : " Children," he cried, " your father is no more; No longer shall you lead a life of pain. No longer toil for QEdipus, Alas ! 'Twas dreadful to you, but this day, my children, Shall end your sorrows and my life together. Never did father love his daughters more Than I have loved ; but henceforth you must live Without your Qlldipus. Farewell for ever ! " He spake, and long, in sad embraces joined, They wept aloud ; at length did clamorous grief To silent sorrow yield, and all was still ; When suddenly we heard a voice that oft Repeated, " CEdipus, why this delay? Where art thou, (Edipus? " The wretched king, Attentive to the call of Heaven, desired That Theseus might be sent for ; Theseus came. When thus the dying exile : "0 my friend ! Give me thy hand, my daughters give him yours; Let this, my dearest Theseus, be the pledge Of amity between you ; promise here That you will ne'er forsake my hapless children, But henceforth cherish, comfort, and protect them." The generous king, in pity to their woes, Vowed to perform what (Edipus desired. The father threw his feeble arms around Tlis weeping children. "You," he cried, "must learn To bear your sutterings with an equal mind, And leave this place ; for not to mortal eye Is given to see my future fate. Away ! Theseus alone must stay, and know it all." This did we hear him utter as we stood Attentive ; when his duteous daughters left him, And went their way, we wept, and followed them. Soon we returned, but CEdipus was gone ; The king alone remaining, as if struck With terror at some dreadful spectacle, Had with his hand o'er- veiled his downcast eye ; A little after, we beheld him bend In humble adoration to the earth, And then to heaven prefer his ardent prayer. How the poor exile perished none can tell But Theseus ; nor the fiery blast of Jove Destroyed, nor sea o'erwhelmed him, but from heaven Some messenger divine did snatch him hence, Or power infernal bade the pitying earth Open her peaceful bosom to receive him ; Without a groan, disease, or pain he fell. 'Twas wondrous all ; to those who credit not This strange report, I answer, 'Tis most true. Chorus Where are his daughters, with their weeping friends Who followed them? Messenger They cannot be far off; The voice of grief I hear proclaims them nigh. Antigone Scene II. Ismene (loith Attendants), Messenger, Antigone Alas ! the time is come when we must weep Our father's fate, the fate of all his race Long since unhappy. Various were the toils, The labours we endured, but this is far, Far above all, unutterable woe. Chorus What is it? Antigone Oh ! it cannot be conceived. Chorus Is he then dead ? Antigone He is ; his death was straii-ge And wonderful, for not in war he fell, Nor did the sea o'erwhelm him, but the earth Hath hid him from us ; deadly night hath closed Our eyes in sadness ; whether o'er the seas We roam, or exiles in a foreign land Lead our sad days, we must be still unhappy. Alas ! I only wish I might have died With my poor father ; wherefore should I ask For longer life ? Chorus Ye good and pious daughters, Remember, what the will of Heaven decrees With patience we must bear ; indulge not then Excess of grief — your faith hath not deserved it. Antigone Oh ! I was fond of misery with him ; E'en what was most unlovely grew beloved When he was with me, O my dearest father ! Beneath the earth now in deep darkness hid, Worn as thou wert with age, to me thou still Wert dear, and shalt be ever. Chorus Now his course Is finished. Antigone Even as he wished, he died In a strange land — for such was his desire ; A shady turf covered his lifeless limbs ; Nor unlamented fell ; for oh ! these eyes. My father, still shall weep for thee, nor time Ere blot thee from my memory. Ismene Alas ! Alas ! my sister, what must be our fate, Forlorn and helpless, of our father thus Bereft ? Chorus His end was happy, therefore cease Your fruitless tears : from sorrow none is free. Antigone Let us be gone. Ismene But where ? J. wish- Ismene O! what? Antigone To see the tomb. Ismene Whose tomb ? Antigone Ouv father's. Oh ! Ismene But is it lawful ? Knowst thou that ? Antigone Why thus Reprove me, my Ismene 1 Ismene He is yet Un buried, and without Antigone Oh ! lead me there, Then kill me if thou wilt ; for where, alas ! Can I betake me ? Chorus Friends, be comforted. Antigone Where shall lily? Chorus Thou hast already 'scaped