Cedipus the KingOf SophoclesDramatis Persons
¶CEDIPUS, King of Thebes Messenger from CorinthCREON , brother of JOCASTA ShepherdTEIRESIAS , a soothsayer Second MessengerPriest of ZEUS JOCASTA, wife of CEDIPUSChorus of Priests and Suppliants
¶SCENE—Thebes. In the backs r'>und', the palace of CEDIPUS ; in front, thealtar of ZEUS , Priests and Boys round it in the attitude of suppliants.
¶Enter OZDIPUSCEdipusH Y sit ye here, my children, brood last rearedWOf Cadmus famed of old, in solemn state,Uplifting in your hands the suppliants' boughs?And all the city reeks with incense smoke,And all re-echoes with your wailing hymns;And I, my children, counting it unmeetTo hear report from others, I have comeMyself, whom all name OZdipus the Great.—Do thou, then, aged Sire, since thine the rightTo speak for these, tell clearly why ye standAwe-stricken, or adoring; speak to meAs willing helper. Dull and cold this heartTo see you prostrate thus, and feel no ruth.Priest. Yes, OZdipus, thou ruler of my land,Thou seest us how we sit, as suppliants, bowedAround thine altars; some as yet unfledgedTo wing their flight, and some weighed down with age.Priest, I, of Zeus, and these the chosen youth:And in the open spaces of the town[210]The people sit and wail, with wreath in hand,By the twin shrine of Pallas, or the groveOracular that bears Ismenus' name.For this our city, as thine eyes may see,Is sorely tempest-tossed, nor lifts its headFrom out the surging sea of blood-flecked waves,All smitten in the fruitful blooms of earth,All smitten in the herds that graze the fields,Yea, and in timeless births of woman's fruit;And still the God sends forth his darts of fire,And lays us low. The plague, abhorred and feared,Makes desolate the home where Cadmus dwelt,And Hades dark grows rich in sighs and groans.It is not that we count thee as a God,Equalled with them in power, that we sit here,These little ones and I, as suppliants prone;But, judging thee, in all life's shifting scenes,Chiefest of men, yea, and of chiefest skill,To soothe the powers of Heaven. For thou it wasThat freed'st this city, named of Cadmus old,From the sad tribute which of yore we paidTo that stern songstress, all untaught of us,And all unprompted; but at God's behest,Men think and say, thou guidest all our life.And now, O CEdipus, most honoured lord,We pray thee, we, thy suppliants, find for usSome succour, whether floating voice of God,Or speech of man brings knowledge to thy soul;For still I see, with those whom life has trainedTo long-tried skill, the issues of their thoughtsLive and are mighty. Come, then, noblest one,Come, save our city; look on us, and fear.As yet this land, for all thy former zeal,Calls thee its saviour: do not give us causeSo to remember this thy reign, as menWho, having risen, then fall low again;But save us, save our city. Omens good[211]Were then with thee; thou didst thy work, and nowBe equal to thyself! If thou wilt rule,As thou dost rule, this land wherein we dwell,'Twere better far to reign o'er living menThan o'er a realm dispeopled. Naught avails,Or tower or ship, when crew and guards are gone.(Edip. O children, wailing loud, ye tell me notOf woes unknown; too well I know them all,Your sorrows and your wants. For one and allAre stricken, yet no sorrow like to mineWeighs on you. Each his own sad burden bears,His own and not another's. But my heartMourns for the people's sorrow and mine own;And, lo! ye have not come to break my sleep,But found me weeping, weeping bitter tears,And treading weary paths in wandering thought;And that one way of healing which I found,That have I acted on. Menoekeus' son,Creon, my kinsman, have I sent to seekThe Pythian home of Phoebus, there to learnThe words or deeds wherewith to save the state;And even now I measure o'er the timeAnd wonder how he fares, for, lo! he stays,I know not why, beyond the appointed day;But when he comes I should be base indeed,Failing to do whate'er the God declares.Priest. Well hast thou spoken! Tidings come e'en nowOf Creon seen approaching.(Edip. Grant, O KingApollo, that he come with omen good,Bright with the cheer of one that bringeth life.Priest. If one may guess, 'tis well. He had not comeHis head all wreathed with boughs of laurel else.(Edip. Soon we shall know. Our voice can reach himnow.Say, prince, our well-beloved, Menoekeus' son,What sacred answer bring'st thou from the God?[212]Enter CREONCreon. A right good answer! That our evil plight,If all goes well, may end in highest good.(Edip. What means this speech ? Nor full of eager hope,Nor trembling panic, list I to thy words.Creon. I for my part am ready, these being by,To tell thee all, or go within the gates.CEdip. Speak out to all. I sorrow more for themThan for the woe which touches me alone.Creon. Well, then, I speak the things the God declared.Phcebus, our king, he bids us chase away(The words were plain) the infection of our land,Nor cherish guilt which still remains unhealed.(Edip. But with what rites? And what the deed itself?Creon. Drive into exile, blood for blood repay.That guilt of blood is blasting all the state.(Edip. But whose fate is it that thou hintest at?Creon. Once, O my king, ere thou didst raise our state,Our sovereign Lai us ruled o'er all the land.(Edip. This know I well, though him I never saw.Creon. Well, then, the God commands us, he being dead,To take revenge on those who shed his blood.(Edip. Yes; but where are they? How to track the courseOf guilt all shrouded in the doubtful past?Creon. In this our land, so said he, those who seekShall find; unsought, we lose it utterly.(Edip. Was it at home, or in the field, or elseIn some strange land that Laius met his doom?Creon. He went, so spake he, pilgrim-wise afar,And nevermore came back as forth he went.CEdip. Was there no courier, none who shared his road,From whom, inquiring, one might learn the truth?Creon. Dead are they all, save one who fled for fear,And he had naught to tell but this: . . .(Edip. [interrupting] And what was that ? One fact mightteach us much,[213]Had we but one small starting-point of hope.Creon. He used to tell that robbers fell on him,Not man for man, but with outnumbering force.(Edip. Yet sure no robber would have dared this deed,Unless some bribe had tempted him from hence.Creon. So men might think; but Laius at his deathFound none to help, or 'venge him in his woe.(Edip. What hindered you, when thus your sovereigntyHad fallen low, from searching out the truth?Creon. The Sphinx, with her dark riddle, bade us lookAt nearer facts, and leave the dim obscure.(Edip. Well, be it mine to track them to their source.Right well hath Phoebus, and right well hast thou,Shown for the dead your care, and ye shall find,As is most meet, in me a helper true,Aiding at once my country and the God.Not for the sake of friends, or near or far,But for mine own, will I dispel this curse;For he that slew him, whosoe'er he be,Will wish, perchance, with such a blow to smiteMe also. Helping him, I help myself.And now, my children, rise with utmost speedFrom off these steps, and raise your suppliant boughs;And let another call my people here,The race of Cadmus, and make known that IWill do my taskwork to the uttermost:So, as God wills, we prosper, or we fail.Priest. Rise, then, my children, 'twas for this we came,For these good tidings which those lips have brought,And Phoebus, he who sent these oracles,Pray that he come to heal, and save from woe.[Exeunt CREON and Priest.
Strophe I
¶Chorus. O voice of Zeus sweet-toned, with what intentCam'st thou from Pytho, where the red gold shines,To Thebes, of high estate?[214]Fainting for fear, I quiver in suspense(Hear us, O healer! God of Delos, hear!),In brooding dread, what doom, of present growth,Or as the months roll on, thy hand will work;Tell me, O Voice divine, thou child of golden hope!
Antistrophe I
¶Thee first, Zeus-born Athene, thee I call;And next thy sister, Goddess of our land,Our Artemis, who in the market sitsIn queenly pride, upon her orbed throne;And Phoebus, the fair darter! O ye Three,Shine on us, and deliver us from ill!If e'er before, when waves or storms of woeRushed on our state, ye drove awayThe fiery tide of ill,Come also now!
Strophe II
¶Yea, come, ye Gods, for sorrows numberlessPress on my soul;And all the host is smitten, and our thoughtsLack weapons to resist.For increase fails of all the fruits of earth,And women faint in childbirth's wailing pangs,And one by one, as flit the swift-winged birds,So, flitting to the shore of Hades dark,Fleeter than lightning's flash,Thou seest them passing on.
Antistrophe II
¶Yea, numberless are they who perish thus,And on the soil, plague-breeding, lieInfants unpitied, cast out ruthlessly;And wives and mothers, gray with hoary age,Some here, some there, by every altar mourn,With woe and sorrow crushed,And chant their wailing plaint.[215]Clear thrills the sense their solemn litany,And the low anthem sung in unison.Hear, then, thou golden daughter of great Zeus,And send us help, bright-faced as is the morn.
Strophe III
¶And Ares the destroyer drive away!Who now, though hushed the din of brazen shield,With battle-cry wars on me fierce and hot.Bid him go back in flight,Retreat from this our land,Or to the ocean bed,Where Amphitrite sleeps,Or to that homeless seaWhich sweeps the Thracian shore.If waning night spares aughtThat doth the day assail:Do thou, then, Sire almighty,Wielding the lightning's strength,Blast him with thy hot thunder.
Antistrophe III
¶And thou, Lyceian king, the wolf's dread foe,Fain would I see thy dartsFrom out thy golden bowGo forth invincible,Helping and bringing aid;And with them, winged with fire,The rays of Artemis,With which, on Lycian hills,She moveth on her course.And last I call on thee,Thou of the golden crown,Guardian of this our land,Bacchus, all purple-flushed,With clamour loud and long,Wandering with Maenads wild;[216]I call on thee to come,Flashing with blazing torch,Against the God whom all the Gods disown.(Edip. Thou prayest, and for thy prayers, if thou wilt hearMy words, and treat the dire disease with skill,Thou shalt find help and respite from thy pain,—My words, which I, a stranger to report,A stranger to the deed, will now declare:For I myself should fail to track it far,Unless some footprints guided me aright.But now, since here I stand, the latest come,A citizen to citizens, I speakTo all the sons of Cadmus. Lives there oneWho knows of Laius, son of Labdacus,The hand that slew him; him I bid to tellHis tale to me; and should it chance he shrinks,Fearing the charge against himself to bring,Still let him speak; no heavier doom is hisThan to depart uninjured from the land;Or, if there be that knows an alien armAs guilty, let him hold his peace no more;I will secure his gain and thanks beside.But if ye hold your peace, if one through fearShall stifle words his bosom friend may drop,What then I purpose let him hear from me:That man I banish, whosoe'er he be,From out the land whose power and throne are mine;And none may give him shelter, none speak lo him,Nor join with him in prayer and sacrifice,Nor pour for him the stream that cleanses guilt;But all shall thrust him from their homes, abhorred,Our curse and our pollution, as the wordProphetic of the Pythian God has shown:Such as I am, I stand before you here,A helper to the God and to the dead.And for the man who did the guilty deed,Whether alone he lurks, or leagued with more,[217]I pray that he may waste his life away,For vile deeds vilely dying; and for me,If in my house, I knowing it, he dwells,May every curse I speak on my head fall.And this I charge you do, for mine own sake,And for the God's, and for the land that pines,Barren and god-deserted. Wrong 'twould be,E'en if no voice from heaven had urged us on,That ye should leave the stain of guilt uncleansed,Your noblest chief, your king himself, being slain.Yea, rather, seek and find. And since I reign,Wielding the might his hand did wield before,Filling his couch, and calling his wife mine,Yea, and our children too, but for the fateThat fell on his, had grown up owned by both;But so it is. On his head fell the doom;And therefore will I strive my best for him,As for my father, and will go all lengthsTo seek and find the murderer, him who slewThe son of Labdacus, and Polydore,And earlier Cadmus, and Agenor old;And for all those who hearken not, I prayThe Gods to give them neither fruit of earth,Nor seed of woman, but consume their livesWith this dire plague, or evil worse than this.And you, the rest, the men from Cadmus sprung,To whom these words approve themselves as good,May righteousness befriend you, and the Gods,In full accord, dwell with you evermore.Chorus. Since thou hast bound me by a curse, O king,I needs must speak. I neither slew the man,Nor know who slew. To say who did the deedBelongs to him who sent this oracle.(Edip. Right well thou speak'st, but man's best strengthmust failTo force the Gods to do the things they will not.Chorus. And may I speak a second time my thoughts?[218](Edip. If 'twere a third, shrink not from speaking out.Chorus. One man I know, a prince, whose insight deepSees clear as princely Phoebus, and from him,Teiresias, one might learn, O king, the truth.(Edip. That, too, is done. No loiterer I in this,For I have sent, on Creon's hint, two bandsTo summon him, and wonder that he comes not.Chorus. Old rumours are there also, dark and dumb.(Edip. And what are they? I weigh the slightest word.Chorus. 'Twas said he died by some chance traveller'shand.(Edip. I, too, heard that. But none knows who was by.Chorus. If yet his soul is capable of awe,Hearing thy curses, he will shrink from them.(Edip. Words fright not him who, doing, knows no fear.Chorus. Well, here is one who'll put him to the proof.For, lo! they bring the seer inspired of God;Chosen of all men, vessel of the truth.
Enter TEIRESIAS, blind, and guided by a boy
¶(Edip. Teiresias! thou whose mind embraceth all,Told or untold, the things of heaven or earth;Thou knowest, although thou seest not, what a pestDwells on us, and we find in thee, O prince,Our one deliverer, yea, our only help.For Phoebus (if, perchance, thou hast not heard)Sent back this word to us, who sent to ask,That this one way was open to escapeFrom the fell plague; if those who Laius slew,We in our turn, discovering, should slay,Or drive them forth as exiles from the land.Thou, therefore, grudge not either sign from birds,Or any other path of prophecy;But save the city, save thyself, save me;Lift off the guilt that death has left behind;On thee we hang. To use our means, our power,In doing good, is noblest service owned.[219]Teir. Ah me! ah me! how sad is wisdom's gift,When no good issue waiteth on the wise!Right well I knew this, but in evil hourForgot, alas! or else I had not come.(Edip. What means this? How despondingly thou corn'st!Teir. Let me go home; for thus thy fate shalt thou,And I mine own, bear easiest, if thou yield.(Edip. No loyal words thou speak'st, nor true to ThebesWho reared thee, holding back this oracle.Teir. It is because I see thy lips speak wordsIll-timed, ill-omened, that I guard my speech.(Edip. Now, by the Gods, unless thy reason fails,Refuse us not, who all implore thy help.Teir. Yes. Reason fails you all; but ne'er will ISo speak my sorrows as to unveil thine.(Edip. What mean'st thou, then? Thou know'st and wiltnot tell,But giv'st to ruin both the state and us?Teir. I will not pain myself nor thee. Why, then,All vainly urge it ? Thou shalt never know.(Edip. Oh, basest of the base! (for thou wouldst stirA heart of stone;) and wilt thou never tell,But still abide relentless and unmoved?Teir. My mood thou blamest, but thou dost not knowThat which dwells with thee while thou chidest me.(Edip. And who would not feel anger, as he hearsThe words which bring dishonour to the state ?Teir. Well! come they will, though I should hold mypeace.(Edip. If come they must, thy duty is to speak.Teir. I speak no more. So, if thou wilt, rage on,With every mood of wrath most desperate.(Edip. Yes ; I will not refrain, so fierce my wrath,From speaking all my thought. I think that thouDidst plot the deed, and do it, though the blowThy hands, it may be, dealt not. Hadst thou seen,I would have said it was thy deed alone.[220]Tcir. And it has come to this ? I charge thee, holdTo thy late edict, and from this day forthSpeak not to me, nor yet to these, for thou,Thou art the accursed plague-spot of the land.(Edip. Art thou so shameless as to vent such words,And thinkest to escape thy righteous doom ?Teir. I have escaped. The strength of truth is mine.(Edip. Who prompted thee? This comes not from thineart.Teir. Thou art the man. 'Twas thou who mad'st mespeak.(Edip. What say'st thou ? Tell it yet again, that IMay know more clearly.Teir. When I spoke before,Didst thou not know? Or dost thou challenge me?(Edip. I could not say I knew it. Speak again.Teir. I say that thou stand'st there a murderer.(Edip. Thou shalt not twice revile, and go unharmed.Teir. And shall I tell thee more to stir thy rage ?(Edip. Say what thou pleasest. All in vain 'tis said.Teir. I say that thou, in vilest intercourseWith those thou lovest best, dost blindly live,Nor seest the evil thou hast made thine own.(Edip. And dost thou think to say these things and live?Teir. Of that I doubt not, if truth holds her own.(Edip. Truth is for all but thee, but thou hast none,Blind in thine ears, thy reason, and thine eyes.Teir. How wretched thou, thus hurling this reproach!Such, all too soon, the world will hurl at thee.(Edip. Thou livest wrapt in one continual night,And canst not hurt or me, or any manWho sees the light.Teir. Fate's firm decree stands fixed:Thou diest not by me. Apollo's mightSuffices. His the task to bring thee low.(Edip. Are these devices Creon's or thine own?Teir. It is not Creon harms thee, but thyself.[221](Edip. O wealth, and sovereignty, and noblest skillSurpassing skill in life that men admire,How great the envy dogging all your steps!If for the sake of kingship, which the stateHath given, unasked for, freely in mine hands,Creon the faithful, found mine earliest friend,Now seeks with masked attack to drive me forth,And hires this wizard, plotter of foul schemes,A vagrant mountebank, whose sight is clearFor pay alone, but in his art stone-blind.Is it not so? When wast thou known a seer?Why, when the monster with her song was here,Didst thou not give our countrymen thy help?And yet the riddle lay above the kenOf common men, and called for prophet's skill.And this thou show'dst thou hadst not, nor by bird,Nor any God made known; but then I came,I, CEdipus, who nothing knew, and slew her,With mine own counsel winning, all untaughtBy flight of birds. And now thou wouldst expel me,And think'st to take thy stand by Creon's throne.But, as I think, both thou and he that plansWith thee, will to your cost attack my fame;And but that thou stand'st there all old and weak,Thou shouldst be taught what kind of plans are thine.Chorus. Far as we dare to measure, both his wordsAnd thine, O CEdipus, in wrath are said.Not such as these we need, but this to see,How best to do the bidding of the God.Teir. King though thou be, I claim an equal rightTo make reply. Here I call no man lord:For I am not thy slave, but Loxias'.Nor shall I stand on Creon's patronage;And this I say, since thou hast dared revileMy blindness, that thou seest, yet dost not seeThy evil plight, nor where thou liv'st, nor yetWith whom thou dwellest. Know'st thou even this,[222]Whence thou art sprung? All ignorant thou sinn'stAgainst thine own, the living and the dead.And soon a curse from mother and from sireWith fearful foot shall chase thee forth from us,Now seeing all things clear, then all things dark.And will not then each shore repeat thy wail,And will not old Kitharron echoing ringWhen thou discern'st the marriage, fatal port,To which thy prosp'rous voyage brought thy bark?And other ills, in coundess multitude,Thou seest not yet, on thee and on thy seedShall fall alike. Vent forth thy wrath then loud,On Creon and on me. There lives not manWho wastes his life more wretchedly than thou.(Edip. This can be borne no longer! Out with thee!A curse light on thee! Wilt thou not depart?Wilt thou not turn and wend thy backward way?Teir. I had not come hadst thou not called me here.(Edip. I knew not thou wouldst speak so foolishly;Else I had hardly fetched thee to my house.Teir. We then, for thee (so deemest thou), are fools,But, for thy parents, who begot thee, wise. f Turns to go.(Edip. [starting forward] What? Stay thy foot. Whatmortal gave me birth?Teir. This day shall give thy birth, and work thy doom.(Edip. What riddles dark and dim thou lov'st to speak.Teir. Yes. But thy skill excels in solving such.(Edip. Scoff as thou wilt, in this thou'lt find me strong.Teir. And yet success in this has worked thy fall.(Edip. I little care, if I have saved the state.Teir. Well, then, I go. Do thou, boy, lead me on!(Edip. Let him lead on. So hateful art thou near,Thou canst not pain me more when thou art gone.Teir. I go, then, having said the things I cameTo say. No fear of thee compels me. ThineIs not the power to hurt me. And I say,This man whom thou art seeking out with threats,[223]As murderer of Laius, he is here,In show an alien sojourner, but in truthA home-born Theban. No delight to himWill that discovery bring. Blind, having seen,Poor, having rolled in wealth,—he, with a staffFeeling his way, to other lands shall go!And by his sons shall he be known at onceFather and brother, and of her who bore himHusband and son, sharing his father's bed,His father's murd'rer. Go thou, then, within,And brood o'er this, and, if thou find'st me fail,Say that my skill in prophecy is gone.[Exeunt OZDIPUS and TEIRESIAS.
Strophe I
¶Chorus. Who was it that the rock oracularOf Delphi spake of, workingWith bloody hand his nameless deed of shame?Time is it now for him,Swifter than fastest steed,To bend his course in flight.For, in full armour clad,Upon him darts, with fireAnd lightning flash, the radiant Son of Zeus.And with him come in train the dreaded ones,The Destinies that may not be appeased.
Antistrophe I
¶For from Parnassus' heights, enwreathed with snow,Gleaming, but now there shoneThe oracle that bade us, one and all,Track the unnamed, unknown one.For, lo! he wanders through the forest wild,In caves and over rocks,As strays the mountain bull,In dreary loneliness with dreary tread,Seeking in vain to shun[224]The words prophetic of the central shrine;Yet they around him hover, full of life.
Strophe II
¶Dread things, yea, dread, the augur skilled has stirredThat leave the question open, aye or no!And which to say I know not,But hover still in hopes, and fail to scanThings present or to come.For neither now nor in the former yearsLearnt I what cause of strifeSet the Labdacid raceAt variance with the house of Polybus.Nor can I test the tale,And take my stand against the well-earned fameOf OZdipus, my lord,As champion of the house of Labdacus,For deaths that none may trace!
Antistrophe II
¶For Zeus and King Apollo, they are wise,And know the hearts of men:But that a prophet passeth me in skill,This is no judgment true;And one man may another's wisdom pass,By wisdom higher still.I, for my part, before the word is clear,Will ne'er assent to those that speak in blame.Tis clear, the Maiden-monster with her wingsCame on him, and he proved by sharpest testThat he was wise, by all the land beloved,And, from my heart at least,The charge of baseness comes not.
¶Enter CREONCreon. I come, my friends, as having learnt but nowOur ruler, OZdipus, accuses me[225]With dreadful words I cannot bear to hear.For if, in these calamities of ours,He thinks he suffers wrongly at my hands,In word or deed, aught tending to his hurt,I set no value on a life prolonged,If this reproach hangs on me; for its harmAffects not slightly, but is direst shame,If through the land my name as villain rings,By thee and by thy friends a villain called.Chorus. But this reproach, it may be, came from wrathAll hasty, rather than from judgment calm.Creon. And who informed him that the seer, seducedBy my false counsel, spoke his lying words?Chorus. The words were said, but on what grounds I knownot.Creon. And was it with calm eyes and judgment clear,The charge was brought against my name and fame?Chorus. I cannot say. To what our rulers doI close my eyes. But here he comes himself.
¶Enter CEDIPUS(Edip. Ho, there! is't thou? And does thy boldness soarSo shameless as to come beneath my roof,When thou, 'tis clear, hast done the deed of blood,And now wilt rob me of my sovereignty ?Is it, by all the Gods, that thou hast seenOr cowardice or folly in my soul,That thou hast laid thy plans? Or thoughtest thouThat I should neither see thy sinuous wiles,Nor, knowing, ward them off? This scheme of thine,Is it not wild, backed nor by force nor friends,To seek the power which calls for force or wealth ?Creon. Do as thou pleasest. But for words of scornHear like words back, and as thou hearest, judge.(Edip. Cunning of speech art thou! But I am slowTo learn of thee, whom I have found my foe.Creon. Hear this, then, first, that thus I have to speak. . . .[226](Edip. But this, then, say not, that thou art not vile.Creon. If that thou thinkest self-willed pride avails,Apart from judgment, know thou art not wise.(Edip. If that thou thinkest, injuring thy friend,To do it unchastised, thou art not wise.Creon. In this, I grant, thou speakest right; but tell,What form of suffering hast thou to endure?(Edip. Didst thou, or didst thou not, thy counsel giveSome one to send to fetch this reverend seer ?Creon. And even now by that advice I hold!(Edip. How long a time has passed since Laiuschanced . . . f Pauses.Creon. Chanced to do what ? I understand not yet.(Edip. Since he was smitten with the deadly blow ?Creon. The years would measure out a long, long tale.(Edip. And was this seer then practising his art ?Creon. Full wise as now, and equal in repute.(Edip. Did he at that time say a word of me?Creon. No word, while I, at any rate, was by.(Edip. And yet ye held your quest upon the dead ?Creon. Of course we held it, but we nothing heard.(Edip. How was it he, the wise one, spoke not then ?Creon. I know not, and, not knowing, hold my peace.(Edip. One thing thou know'st, and, meaning well, wouldstspeak!Creon. And what is that? for if I know, I'll speak.(Edip. Why, unless thou wert in the secret, thenHe spake not of me as the murderer.Creon. If he says this, thou know'st it. I of theeDesire to learn, as thou hast learnt of me.(Edip. Learn then; no guilt of blood shall rest on me.Creon. Well, then,—my sister? dost thou own her wife?(Edip. I will not meet this question with denial.Creon. And sharest thou an equal rule with her?(Edip. Her every wish by me is brought to act.Creon. And am not I coequal with you twain?(Edip. Yes; and just here thou show'st thyself false friend.[227]Creon. Not so, if thou wouldst reason with thyself,As I must reason. First reflect on this:Supposest thou that one would rather chooseTo reign with fears than sleeping calmest sleep,His power being equal? I, for one, prize lessThe name of king than deeds of kingly power;And so would all who learn in wisdom's school.Now without fear I have what I desire,At thy hand given. Did I rule, myself,I might do much unwillingly. Why, then,Should sovereignty exert a softer charmThan power and might unchequered by a care?I am not yet so cheated by myselfAs to desire aught else but honest gain.Now all goes well, now every one salutes,Now they who seek thy favour court my smiles,For on this hinge does all their fortune turn.Why, then, should I leave this to hunt for that?My mind, retaining reason, ne'er could actThe villain's part. I was not born to loveSuch thoughts myself, nor bear with those that do.And as a proof of this, go thou thyself,And ask at Pytho whether I brought back,In very deed, the oracles I heard.And if thou find me plotting with the seer,In common concert, not by one decree,But two, thine own and mine, proclaim my death.But charge me not with crime on shadowy proof;For neither is it just, in random thought,The bad to count as good, nor good as bad;For to thrust out a friend of noble heart,Is like the parting with the life we love.And this in time thou'lt know, for time aloneMakes manifest the righteous. Of the vileThou mayst detect the vileness in a day.Chorus. To one who fears to fall, he speaketh well;O king, swift counsels are not always safe.[228](Edip. But when a man is swift in wily schemes,Swift must I be to baffle plot with plot;And if I stand and wait, he wins the day,And all my life is found one great mistake.Creon. What seek'st thou, then? to drive me from theland?(Edip. Not so. I seek not banishment, but death.Creon. When thou show'st first what grudge I bear tothee ?(Edip. And say'st thou this defying, yielding not?Creon. I see thy judgment fails.(Edip. I hold mine own.Creon. Mine has an equal claim.(Edip. Thou villain born!Creon. And if thy mind is darkened . . . ?(Edip. Still obey!Creon. Not to a tyrant ruler.(Edip. O my country!Creon. I, too, can claim that country. 'Tis not thine!Chorus. Cease, O my princes! In good time I seeJocasta coming hither from the house;And it were well with her to hush this strife.
¶Enter JOCASTAJoe. Why, O ye wretched ones, this strife of tonguesRaise ye in your unwisdom, nor are shamed,Our country suffering, private griefs to stir?Come thou within. And thou, O Creon, go,Nor bring a trifling sore to mischief great!Creon. My sister! CEdipus, thy husband, claimsThe right to wrong me, giving choice of ills,Or to be exiled from my home, or die.(Edip. 'Tis even so, for I have found him, wife,Against my life his evil wiles devising.Creon. May I ne'er prosper, but accursed die,If I have done the things he says I did![229]Joe. Oh, by the Gods, believe him, CEdipus!Respect his oath, which calls the Gods to hear;And reverence me, and these who stand by thee.Chorus. Hearken, my king! be calmer, I implore!(Edip. What! wilt thou that I yield?Chorus. Respect is dueTo one not weak before, who now is strongIn this his oath.(Edip. And know'st thou what thou ask'st?Chorus. I know right well.(Edip. Say on, then, what thou wilt.Chorus. Hurl not to shame, on grounds of mere mistrust,The friend on whom his own curse still must hang.(Edip. Know, then, that, seeking this, thou seek'st, in truth,To work my death, or else my banishment.Chorus. Nay, by the sun, chief God of all the Gods!May I, too, die, of God and man accursed,If I wish aught like this! But on my soul,Our wasting land dwells heavily; ills on illsStill coming, and your strife embittering all.(Edip. Let him depart, then, even though I die,Or from my country wander forth in shame:Thy face, not his, I view with pitying eye;For him, where'er he be, is naught but hate.Creon. Thou'rt loath to yield, 'twould seem, and wilt bevexedWhen this thy wrath is over: moods like thineAre fitly to themselves most hard to bear.(Edip. Wilt thou not go, and leave me?Creon. I will go,By thee misjudged, but known as just by these. [Exit.Chorus. Why, lady, art thou slow to lead him in ?Joe. I fain would learn how this sad chance arose.Chorus. Blind hasty speech there was, and wrong will sting.Joe. From both of them ?Chorus. Yea, both.[230]Joe. And what said each?Chorus. Enough for me, our land laid low in grief,It seems, to leave the quarrel where it stopped.(Edip. Seest thou, with all thy purposes of good,Thy shifting and thy soothing, what thou dost?Chorus. My chief, not once alone I spoke,And wild and erring should I be,Were I to turn from thee aside,Who, when my country rocked in storm,Righted her course, and, if thou couldst,Wouldst send her speeding now.Joe. Tell me, my king, what cause of fell debateHas bred this discord, and provoked thy soul.(Edip. Thee will I tell, for thee I honour moreThan these. The cause was Creon and his plots.Joe. Say, then, if clearly thou canst tell the strife.(Edip. He says that I am Laius' murderer.Joe. Of his own knowledge, or by some one taught?(Edip. Yon scoundrel seer suborning. For himself,He takes good care to free his lips from blame.Joe. Leave now thyself, and all thy thoughts of this,And list to me, and learn how little skillIn arts prophetic mortal man may claim;And of this truth I'll give thee proof full clear.There came to Laius once an oracle(I say not that it came from Phoebus' self,But from his servants) that his fate was fixedBy his son's hand to fall—his own and mine:And him, so rumour runs, a robber bandOf aliens slew, where meet the three great roads.Nor did three days succeed the infant's birth,Before, by other hands, he cast him forth,Maiming his ankles, on a lonely hill.Here, then, Apollo failed to make the boyHis father's murderer; nor did Laius dieBy his son's hand. So fared the oracles;Therefore regard them not. Whate'er the God[231]Desires to search he will himself declare.(Edip. [trembling] O what a fearful boding! thoughts disturbedThrill through my soul, my queen, at this thy tale.Joe. What means this shuddering, this averted glance?(Edip. I thought I heard thee say that Laius died,Slain in a skirmish where the three roads meet?Joe. So was it said, and still the rumours hold.(Edip. Where was the spot in which this matter passed?Joe. They call the country Phocis, and the roadsFrom Delphi and from Daulia there converge.(Edip. And time? what interval has passed since then?Joe. But just before thou earnest to possessAnd rule this land the tidings were proclaimed.(Edip. Great Zeus! what fate hast thou decreed for me?Joe. What thought is this, my GEdipus, of thine?(Edip. Ask me not yet, but tell of Laius' frame,His build, his features, and his years of life.Joe. Tall was he, and the white hairs snowed his head,And in his face not much unlike to thee.(Edip. Woe, woe is me! so seems it I have plungedAll blindly into curses terrible.Joe. What sayest thou ? I shudder as I see thee.(Edip. Desponding fear comes o'er me, lest the seerHas seen indeed. But one thing more I'll ask.Joe. I fear to speak, yet what thou ask'st I'll tell.(Edip. Went he in humble guise, or with a troopOf spearmen, as becomes a man that rules?Joe. Five were they altogether, and of themOne was a herald, and one chariot had he.(Edip. Woe! woe! 'tis all too clear. And who was heThat told these tidings to thee, O my queen?Joe. A servant who alone escaped with life.(Edip. And does he chance to dwell among us now ?Joe. Not so; for from the time when he returned,And found thee bearing sway, and Laius dead,He, at ray hand, a suppliant, implored[232]This boon, to send him to the distant fieldsTo feed his flocks, where never glance of hisMight Thebes behold. And so I sent him forth;For though a slave he might have claimed yet more.(Edip. And could we fetch him quickly back again?Joe. That may well be. But why dost thou wish this?(Edip. I fear, O queen, that words best left unsaidHave passed these lips, and therefore wish to see him.Joe. Well, he shall come. But some small claim have I,0 king, to learn what touches thee with woe.(Edip. Thou shalt not fail to learn it, now that IHave such forebodings reached. To whom should IMore than to thee tell all the passing chance ?I had a father, Polybus of Corinth,And Merope of Doris was my mother,And I was held in honour by the restWho dwelt there, till this accident befel,Worthy of wonder, of the heat unworthyIt roused within me. Thus it chanced: A manAt supper, in his cups, with wine o'ertaken,Reviles me as a spurious changeling boy;And I, sore vexed, hardly for that dayRestrained myself. And when the morrow cameI went and charged my father and my motherWith what I thus had heard. They heaped reproachOn him who stirred the matter, and I soothedMy soul with what they told me; yet it teased,Still vexing more and more; and so I went,Unknown to them, to Pytho, and the GodSent me forth shamed, unanswered in my quest;And more he added, dread and dire and dark,How that the doom of incest lay on me,Most foul, unnatural; and that I should beFather of children men would loathe to look on,And murderer of the father that begot me.And, hearing this, I cast my wistful looksTo where the stars hang over Corinth's towers,[233]And fled where nevermore mine eyes might seeThe shame of those dire oracles fulfilled;And as I went I reached the spot where he,The king, thou tell'st me, met the fatal blow.And now, O lady, I will tell thee all.Wending my steps that way where three roads meet,There met me first a herald, and a manLike him thou told'st of, riding on his car,Drawn by young colts. With rough and hasty wordsThey drove me from the road,—the driver first,And that old man himself; and then in rageI struck the driver, who had turned me back.And when the old man saw it, watching meAs by the chariot side I stood, he struckMy forehead with a double-pointed goad.But we were more than quits, for in a triceWith this right hand I struck him with my staff,And he rolled backward from his chariot's seat.And then I slew them all. And if it chanceThat Laius and this stranger are akin,What man more wretched than this man who speaks,What man more harassed by the vexing Gods?He whom none now, or alien, or of Thebes,May welcome to their house, or speak to him,But thrust him forth an exile. And 'twas I,None other, who against myself proclaimedThese curses. And the bed of him that diedI with my hands, by which he fell, defile.Am I not vile by nature, all unclean?If I must flee, yet still in flight my doomIs nevermore to see the friends I love,Nor tread my country's soil; or else to bearThe guilt of incest, and my father slay,Yea, Polybus, who reared me from the womb.Would not a man say right who said that hereSome cruel God was pressing hard on me ?Not that, not that, at least, thou Presence, pure[234]And awful, of the Gods. May I ne'er lookOn such a day as that, but far awayDepart unseen from all the haunts of menBefore such great pollution comes on me.Chorus. Us, too, O king, these things perplex, yet still,Till thou hast asked the man who then was by,Have hope.(Edip. And this indeed is all my hope,Waiting until that shepherd-slave appear.Joe. And when he comes, what meanest thou to ask?(Edip. I'll tell thee. Should he now repeat the taleThou told'st to me, it frees me from this guilt.Joe. What special word was that thou heard'st from me ?(Edip. Thou said'st he told that robbers slew his lord,And should he give their number as the sameNo was before, it was not I who slew him,For one man could not be the same as many.But if he speak of one man, all alone,Then, all too plain, the deed cleaves fast to me.Joe. But know, the thing was said, and clearly said,And now he cannot from his word draw back.Not I alone, but the whole city, heard it;And should he now retract his former talc,Not then, my husband, will he rightly showThe death of Laius, who, as Loxias told,By my son's hand should die; and yet, poor boy,He killed him not, but perished long ago.So I for one, both now and evermore,Will count all oracles as things of naught.(Edip. Thou reasonest well. Yet send a messengerTo fetch that peasant. Be not slack in this.Joe. I will make haste to send. But go thou in;I would do nothing that displeaseth thee. [Exeunt.
Strophe I
¶Chorus. O that my fate were fixedTo live in holy purity of speech,[235]Pure in all deeds whose laws stand firm and high,In heaven's clear aether born,Of whom Olympus only is the sire,Whom man's frail flesh begat not,Nor ever shall forgetfulness o'erwhelm;In them our God is great and grows not old.
Antistrophe I
¶But pride begets the mood of tyrant power;Pride filled with many thoughts, yet filled in vain,Untimely, ill-advised,Scaling the topmost height,Falls down the steep abyss,Down to the pit, where step that profitethIt seeks in vain to take.I cannot ask the Gods to stop midwayThe conflict sore that works our country's good;I cannot cease to call on God for aid.
Strophe II
¶But if there be who walketh haughtily,In action or in speech,Whom righteousness herself has ceased to awe,Who counts the temples of the Gods profane,An evil fate be his,Fit meed for all his boastfulness of heart;Unless in time to come he gain his gainsAll justly, and draws back from godless deeds,Nor lays rash hand upon the holy things,By man inviolable.If such deeds prosper who will henceforth prayTo guard his soul from passion's fiery darts?If such as these are held in high repute,What profit is there of my choral strain ?
Antistrophe II
¶No longer will I go in pilgrim guise,To yon all holy place, Earth's central shrine,[236]Nor unto Abac's temple,Nor to far-famed Olympia,Unless these pointings of a hand divineIn sight of all men stand out clear and true.But, O thou sovereign ruler! if that name,O Zeus, belongs to thee, who reign'st o'er all,Let not this trespass hide itself from thee,Or thine undying sway;For now they set at naughtThe oracles, half dead,That Laius heard of old,And king Apollo's wonted worship flags,And all to wreck is goneThe homage due to God.
¶Enter JOCASTA, followed by an Attendant
¶Joe. Princes of this our land, across my soulThere comes the thought to go from shrine to shOf all the Gods, these garlands in my hand,And waving incense; for our CEdipusVexes his soul too wildly with his woes,And speaks not as a man should speak who scansThe present by the experience of the past,But hangs on every breath that tells of fear.And since I find that my advice avails not,To thee, Lyceian King, Apollo, firstI come,—for thou art nearest,—suppliantWith these devotions, trusting thou wilt workSome way of healing for us, free from guilt;For now we shudder, all of us, seeing him,The good ship's pilot, panic-struck and lost.
¶Enter MessengerMess. May I inquire of you, O strangers, whereTo find the house of GEdipus the king,And, above all, where he is, if ye know?[237]Chorus. This is the house, and he, good sir, within,And this his wife, and mother of his children.Mess. Good fortune be with her and all her kin,Being, as she is, his true and honoured wife.Joe. Like fortune be with thee, my friend. Thy speech,So kind, deserves no less. But tell me whyThou comest, what thou hast to ask or tell.Mess. Good news to thee, and to thy husband, lady.Joe. What is it, then ? and who has sent thee here ?Mess. I come from Corinth, and the news I'll tellMay give thee joy. Why not ? Yet thou mayst grieve.Joe. What is the news that has this twofold power?Mess. The citizens that on the Isthmus dwellWill make him sovereign. So the rumour ran.Joe. What then? Is aged Polybus no more?Mess. E'en so. Death holds him in the stately tomb.Joe. What say'st thou? Polybus, thy king, is dead?Mess. If I speak false, I have no wish to live!Joe. Go, maiden, at thy topmost speed, and tellThy master this. Now , oracles of Gods,Where are ye now? Long since my CEdipusFled, fearing lest his hand should slay the man;And now he dies by fate, and not by him.
¶Enter CEDIPUS(Edip. Mine own Jocasta, why, O dearest one,Why hast thou sent to fetch me from the house?Joe. List this man's tale, and when thou hearest, seeThe woeful plight of those dread oracles.(Edip. Who, then, is this, and what has he to tell?Joe. He comes from Corinth, and he brings thee wordThat Polybus, thy father, lives no more.(Edip. What say'st thou, friend? Tell me thy tale thyself.Mess. If I must needs report the story clear,Know well that he has gone the way of death.(Edip. Was it by plot, or chance of natural death?Mess. An old man's frame a little stroke lays low![238](Edip. He suffered, then, it seems, from some disease?Mess. E'en so, and many a weary month he passed.(Edip. Ha! ha! Why now, my queen, should we regardThe Pythian hearth oracular, or birdsIn mid-air crying? By their auguries,I was to slay my father. And he dies,And the grave hides him; and I find myselfHandling no sword; unless for love of meHe pined away, and so I caused his death.So Polybus is gone, and with him lie,In Hades whelmed, those worthless oracles.Joe. Did I not tell thee this long time ago ?(Edip. Thou didst, but I was led away by fears.Joe. Dismiss them, then, for ever from thy thoughts!(Edip. And yet that "incest"; must I not fear that?Joe. Why should we fear, when chance rules everything,And foresight of the future there is none;'Tis best to live at random, as one can.But thou, fear not that marriage with thy mother:Such things men oft have dreams of; but who caresThe least about them lives the happiest.(Edip. Right well thou speakest all things, save that sheStill lives that bore me, and I can but fear,Seeing that she lives, although thou speakest well.Joe. And yet thy father's grave's a spot of light.(Edip. 'Tis so: yet while she liveth there is fear.Mess. Who is this woman about whom ye fear?(Edip. 'Tis Merope, old sir, who lived with Polybus.Mess. And what leads you to think of her with fear?(Edip. A fearful oracle, my friend, from God.Mess. Canst tell it; or must others ask in vain?(Edip. Most readily; for Loxias said of oldThe doom of incest lay on me, and IWith mine own hands should spill my father's blood.And therefore Corinth long ago I left,And journeyed far, right prosperously I own;—And yet 'tis sweet to see a parent's face.[239]Mess. And did this fear thy steps to exile lead ?(Edip. I did not wish to take my father's life.Mess. Why, then, O king, did I who came with goodNot free thee from this fear that haunts thy soul?(Edip. For this, I own, I owe thee worthy thanks.Mess. For this, / own, I chiefly came to thee;That I on thy return may prosper well.(Edip. But I return not while a parent lives.Mess. 'Tis clear, my son, thou know'st not what thou dost.(Edip. What is't ? By all the Gods, old man, speak out.Mess. If 'tis for them thou fearest to return . . .(Edip. I fear lest Phccbus prove himself too true.Mess. Is it lest thou shouldst stain thy soul throughthem ?(Edip. This selfsame fear, old man, for ever haunts me.Mess. And know'st thou not there is no cause for fear ?(Edip. Is there no cause if I was born their son?Mess. None is there. Polybus is naught to thee.(Edip. What say'st thou? Did not Polybus beget me?Mess. No more than he thou speak'st to; just as much.(Edip. How could a father's claim become as naught?Mess. Well, neither he begat thee nor did I.(Edip. Why, then, did he acknowledge me as his?Mess. He at my hands received thee as a gift.(Edip. And could he love another's child so much?Mess. Yes; for his former childlessness wrought on him.(Edip. And gav'st thou me as buying or as finding?Mess. I found thee in Kithaeron's shrub-grown hollow.(Edip. And for what cause didst travel thitherwards?Mess. I had the charge to tend the mountain flocks.(Edip. Wast thou a shepherd born, or seeking hire?Mess. At any rate, my son, I saved thee then.(Edip. What evil plight, then, didst thou find me in ?Mess. The sinews of thy feet would tell that tale.(Edip. Ah , me! why speak'st thou of that ancient wrong?Mess. I freed thee when thy insteps both were pierced.(Edip. A foul disgrace I had in swaddling clothes.[240]Mess. Thus from this chance there came the name thoubearest.(Edip. [starting] Who gave the name, my father or mymother;In heaven's name tell me?Mess. This I do not know;Who gave thee to me better knows than I.(Edip. Didst thou, then, take me from another's hand,Not finding me thyself?Mess. Not I, indeed;Another shepherd made a gift of thee.(Edip. Who was he? know'st thou where to find him out?Mess. They called him one of those that Laius owned.(Edip. Mean'st thou the former sovereign of this land ?Mess. E'en so. He fed the flocks of him thou nam'st.(Edip. And is he living still that I might see him?Mess. You, his own countrymen, should know that best.(Edip. Is there of you who stand and listen hereOne who has known the shepherd that he tells of,Or seeing him upon the hills or here?If so, declare it; 'tis full time to speak!Chorus. I think that this is he whom from the hillsBut now thou soughtest. But Jocasta hereCould tell thee this with surer word than I.(Edip. Knowest thou, my queen, the man whom late wesentTo fetch; and him of whom this stranger speaks?Joe. [with forced calmness] Whom did he speak of? Carenot thou for it,But wish his words may be but idle tales.(Edip. I cannot fail, once getting on the scent,To track at last the secret of my birth.Joe. Ah , by the Gods, if that thou valuest lifeInquire no further. Let my woe suffice.(Edip. Take heart; though I should turn out thrice a slave,Born of a thrice vile mother, thou art stillFree from all stain.[241]Joe. Yet, I implore thee, pause!Yield to my counsels, do not do this deed.(Edip. I may not yield, and fail to search it out.Joe. And yet good counsels give I, for thy good.(Edip. This "for my good" has been my life's longplague.Joe. Who thou art, hapless, mayst thou never know!(Edip. Will some one bring that shepherd to me here?Leave her to glory in her high descent.Joe. Woe! woe! ill-fated one! my last word this,This only, and no more for evermore. [Rushes out.Chorus. Why has thy queen, O CEdipus, gone forthIn her wild sorrow rushing. Much I fearLest from such silence evil deeds burst out.(Edip. Burst out what will, I seek to know my birth,Low though it be, and she perhaps is shamed(For, like a woman, she is proud of heart)At thoughts of my low birth; but I, who countMyself the child of Fortune, fear no shame.My mother she, and she has prospered me.And so the months that span my life have made meBoth high and low; but whatsoe'er I be,Such asIa m I am, and needs must onTo fathom all the secret of my birth.
Strophe
¶Chorus. If the seer's gift be mine,Or skill in counsel wise,Thou, O Kithscron, when the morrow comes,Our full-moon festival,Shalt fail not to resoundThe voice that greets thee, fellow-citizen,Parent and nurse of CEdipus;And we will on thee weave our choral dance,As bringing to our princes glad good news.Hail, hail! O Phoebus, smile on this our prayer.
Antistrophe
¶Who was it, child, that bore thee?Blest daughter of the ever-living Ones,Or meeting in the ties of love with Pan,Who wanders o'er the hills,Or with thee, Loxias, for to thee are dearAll the high lawns where roam the pasturing flocks;Or was it he who rules Kyllene's height;Or did the Bacchic God,Upon the mountain's peak,Receive thee as the gift of some fair nymphOf Helicon's fair band,With whom he sports and wantons evermore?(Edip. If I must needs conjecture, who as yetNe'er met the man, I think I see the shepherd,Whom this long while we sought for. With the yearsHis age fits well. And now I see, besides,My servants bring him. Thou perchance canst sayFrom former knowledge yet more certainly.Chorus. I know him well, O king! For this man stood,If any, known as Laius' faithful slave.
¶Enter Shepherd(Edip. Thee first I ask, Corinthian stranger, say,Is this the man ?Mess. The very man thou seek'st.(Edip. Ho, there, old man. Come hither, look on me,And tell me all. Did Laius own thee once?Shep. Not as a slave from market, but home-reared.(Edip. What was thy work, or what thy mode of life?Shep. Near all my life I followed with the flock.(Edip. And in what regions didst thou chiefly dwell?Shep. Now 'twas Kithzron, now on neighbouring fields.(Edip. Know'st thou this man? Didst ever see himthere ?Shep. What did he do? Of what man speakest thou?[243](Edip. This man now present. Did ye ever meet ?Shep. My memory fails when taxed thus suddenly.Mess. No wonder that, my lord. But I'll remind himRight well of things forgotten. Well I knowHe'll call to mind when on Kithiron's fields,He with a double flock, and I with one,I was his neighbour during three half years,From springtide on to autumn; and in winterI drove my flocks to mine own fold, and heTo those of Laius. [ To SHEPHERD ] Is this false or true ?Shep. Thou tell'st the truth, although long years havepassed.Mess. Come, then, say on. Rememberest thou a boyThou gav'st me once, that I might rear him upAs mine own child?Shep. Why askest thou of this?Mess. Here stands he, fellow! that same tiny boy!Shep. A curse befall thee! Wilt not hold thy tongue?(Edip. Rebuke him not, old man; thy words need moreThe language of reproaches than do his.Shep. Say, good my lord, what fault have I committed?(Edip. This, that thou tell'st not of the child he asks for.Shep. Yes, for he speaks in blindness, wasting breath.(Edip. Thou wilt not speak for favour, but a blow . . .[Strides him.Shep. By all the Gods, hurt not my feeble age.(Edip. Will no one bind his hands behind his back?Shep. O man most wretched! what, then, wilt thou learn?(Edip. Gav'st thou this man the boy of whom he asks?Shep. I gave him. Would that day had been my last!(Edip. That doom will soon be thine if thou speak'stwrong.Shep. Nay, much more shall I perish if I speak.(Edip. This fellow, as it seems, would tire us out.Shep. Not so. I said long since I gave it him.(Edip. Whence came it? Was the child thine own ornot?[244]Shep. Mine own 'twas not, but some one gave it me.(Edip. Which of our people, or beneath what roof?Shep. Oh, by the Gods, my master, ask no more!(Edip. Thou diest if I question this again.Shep. Some one it was in Laius' household born.(Edip. Was it a slave, or some one born to him ?Shep. Ah , me! I stand upon the very brinkWhere most I dread to speak.(Edip. And I to hear:And yet I needs must hear it, come what may.Shep. The boy was said to be his son; but she,Thy queen within, could tell thee best the truth.(Edip. What! was it she who gave it?Shep. Yea, O king!(Edip. And to what end ?Shep. To make away with it.(Edip. And dared a mother . . . ?Shep. Evil doom she feared.(Edip. What doom ?Shep. 'Twas said that he his sire should kill.(Edip. Why, then, didst thou to this old man resign him ?Shep. I pitied him, O master, and I thoughtThat he would bear him to another land,Whence he himself had come. But him he savedFor direst evil. For if thou be heWhom this man speaks of, thou art born to ill.(Edip. Woe! woe! woe! woe! all cometh clear at last.O light, may I ne'er look on thee again,Who now am seen owing my birth to thoseTo whom I ought not, and with whom I ought notIn wedlock living, whom I ought not slaying. [Exit.
Strophe I
¶Chorus. Ah , race of mortal men,How as a thing of naughtI count ye, though ye live;For who is there of men[245]That more of blessing knowsThan just a little whileIn a vain show to stand,And, having stood, to fall?With thee before mine eyes,Thy destiny, e'en thine,Ill-fated CEdipus,I can count no man blest.
Antistrophe I
¶For thou, with wondrous skill,Taking thine aim, didst hitSuccess, in all things prosperous;And didst, O Zeus! destroyThe Virgin with her talons bent,And sayings wild and dark;And against many deathsA tower and strong defenceDidst for my country rise;And therefore dost thou bear the name of king,With highest glory crowned,Ruling in mighty Thebes.
Strophe II
¶And now, who lives than thou more miserable?Who equals thee in wild woes manifold,In shifting turns of life?Ah, noble one, our CEdipus!For whom the selfsame portSufficed for sire and son,In wedlock's haven met:Ah how, ah how, thou wretched one, so longCould that incestuous bedReceive thee, and be dumb?
Antistrophe II
¶Time, who sees all things, he hath found thee outAgainst thy will, and long ago condemned[246]The wedlock none may wed,Begetter and begottenIn strange confusion joined.Ah , child of Laius! ah!Would that I ne'er had looked upon thy face!For I mourn sore exceedingly,From lips with wailing full.In simplest truth, by thee I rose from death,By thee I close mine eyes in deadly sleep.
¶Enter Second MessengerSec. Mess. Ye chieftains, honoured most in this our land,For all the deeds ye hear of, all ye see,How great a wailing will ye raise, if stillYe truly love the house of Labdacus;For sure I think that neither Ister's streamNor Phasis' floods could purify this house,Such horrors does it hold. But all too soon,Will we or will we not, they'll come to light.Self-chosen sorrows ever pain men most.Chorus. The ills we knew before lacked nothing meetFor plaint and moaning. Now, what add'st thou more?Sec. Mess. Quickest for me to speak, and thee to learn;Our godlike queen Jocasta—she is dead.Chorus. Ah , crushed with many sorrows! How and why?Sec. Mess. Herself she slew. The worst of all that passedI must pass o'er, for none were there to see.Yet, far as memory suffers me to speak,That sorrow-stricken woman's end I'll tell;How, yielding to her passion, on she passedWithin the porch, made straightway for the couch,Her bridal bed, with both hands tore her hair,And as she entered, dashing through the doors,Calls on her Laius, dead long years ago,Remembering all that birth of long ago,Which brought him death, and left to her who bore,With his own son a hateful motherhood.[247]And o'er her bed she wailed, where she had borneSpouse to her spouse, and children to her child;And how she perished after this I know not;For CEdipus struck in with woeful cry,And we no longer looked upon her fate,But gazed on him as to and fro he rushed,For so he comes, and asks us for a sword,Wherewith to smite the wife that wife was none,The bosom stained by those accursed births,Himself, his children—so, as thus he raves,Some spirit shows her to him (none of usWho stood hard by had done so): with a shoutMost terrible, as some one led him on,Through the two gates he leapt, and from the haspHe slid the hollow bolt, and falls within;And there we saw his wife had hung herself,By twisted cords suspended. When her formHe saw, poor wretch! with one wild, fearful cry,The twisted rope he loosens, and she fell,Ill-starred one, on the ground. Then came a sightMost fearful. Tearing from her robe the clasps,All chased with gold, with which she decked herself,He with them struck the pupils of his eyes,Such words as these exclaiming: "They should seeNo more the ills he suffered or had done;But in the dark should look, in time to come,On those they ought not, not know whom they would."With such like wails, not once or twice alone,Raising the lids, he tore his eyes, and they,All bleeding, stained his cheek, nor ceased to pourThick clots of gore, but still the purple showerFell fast and full, a very rain of blood.Such were the ills that fell on both of them,Not on one only, wife and husband both.His former fortune, which he held of old,Was rightly honoured; but for this day's doomWailing and woe, and death and shame, all forms[248]That man can name of evil, none have failed.Chorus. And hath the wretched man a pause of ill?Sec. Mess. He calls to us to ope the gates, and showTo all in Thebes his father's murderer,His mother's . . . Foul and fearful were the wordsHe spoke. I dare not speak them. Then he saidThat he would cast himself adrift, nor stayAt home accursed, as himself had cursed.Some stay he surely needs, or guiding hand,For greater is the ill than he can bear,And this he soon will show thee, for the boltsOf the two gates are opening, and thou'lt seeA sight to touch e'en hatred's self with pity.
¶The doors of the Palace are thrown open, and CEDIPUS is seen
within
¶Chorus. Oh, fearful, piteous sight!Most fearful of all woesI hitherto have known! What madness strangeHas come on thee, thou wretched one?What power with one fell swoop,Ills heaping upon ills,Each greater than the last,Has marked thee for its prey?Woe! woe! thou doomed one, wishing much to ask,And much to learn, and much to gaze into,I cannot look on thee,So horrible the sight!(Edip. Ah, woe! ah, woe! ah, woe!Woe for my misery!Where am I wand'ring in my utter woe?Where floats my voice in air?Dread power, where leadest thou?Chorus. To doom of dread nor sight nor speech may bear.(Edip. O cloud of darkest guiltThat onwards sweeps with dread ineffable,[249]Resistless, borne along by evil blast,Woe, woe, and woe again!How through my soul there darts the sting of pain,The memory of my crimes.Chorus. And who can wonder that in such dire woesThou mournest doubly, bearing twofold ills?(Edip. Ah, friend,Thou only keepest by me, faithful found,Nor dost the blind one slight.Woe, woe,For thou escap'st me not, I know thee well;Though all is dark, I still can hear thy voice.Chorus. O man of fearful deeds, how couldst thou bearThine eyes to outrage? What power stirred the'- 1 to it?(Edip. Apollo! oh, my friends, the God, Apollo!Who worketh all my woes—yes, all my woes.No human hand but mine has done this deed.What need for me to see,When nothing's left that's sweet to look upon?Chorus. Too truly dost thou speak the thing that is.(Edip. Yea, what remains to see,Or what to love, or hear,With any touch of joy?Lead me away, my friends, with utmost speed,Lead me away, the foul polluted one,Of all men most accursed,Most hateful to the Gods.Chorus. Ah , wretched one, alike in soul and doom,Would that my eyes had never known thy face!(Edip. Ill fate be his who loosed the fetters sharp,That ate into my flesh,And freed me from the doom of death,And saved me—thankless boon!Ah ! had I died but then,Nor to my friends nor me had been such woe.Chorus. That I, too, vainly wish,Suffer them not to wander husbandless,Nor let thy kindred beg their daily bread;But look on them with pity, seeing themAt their age, but for thee, deprived of all.O noble soul, I pray thee, touch my handIn token of consent. And ye, my girls,Had ye the minds to hearken I would fainGive ye much counsel. As it is, pray for meTo live where'er is meet; and for yourselvesA brighter life than his ye call your sire.Creon. Enough of tears and words. Go thou within.(Edip. I needs must yield, however hard it be.Creon. In their right season all things prosper best.(Edip. Know'st thou my wish ?Creon. Speak and I then shall hear.(Edip. That thou shouldst send me far away from home.Creon. Thou askest what the Gods alone can give.(Edip. And yet I go most hated of the Gods.Creon. And therefore it may chance thou gain'st thy wish.(Edip. And dost thou promise, then, to grant it me?Creon. I am not wont to utter idle words.(Edip. Lead me, then, hence.Creon. Go thou, but leave the girls.(Edip. Ah , take them not from me!Creon. Thou must not thinkTo have thy way in all things all thy life.Thou hadst it once, yet went it ill with thee.Chorus. Ye men of Thebes, behold this QEdipus,Who knew the famous riddle and was noblest,Who envied no one's fortune and success.And, lo! in what a sea of direst woeHe now is plunged. From hence the lesson draw,To reckon no man happy till ye seeThe closing day; until he pass the bournWhich severs life from death, unscathed by woe.