The Seven Plays in English Verse

[page 307][1556-1590]

CHORUS.

Prince of the Powers Unseen,1
Durst we with prayers adore
Thee and thy viewless Queen,
Your aid, Aidôneus, would our lips implore!
By no harsh-sounding doom
Let him we love descend,
With calm and cloudless end,
In deep Plutonian dwelling evermore
To abide among the people of the tomb!
Long worn with many an undeservèd woe,
Just Gods will give thee glory there below.

Dread Forms, who haunt this floor,2
And thou, the Unconquered Beast,
That hugely liest at rest
By the dim shining adamantine door,
—Still from thy cavernous lair
Gnarling, so legends tell,
A tameless guard of Hell,—
Mayest thou this once thy vigilance forbear,
And leave large room for him now entering there.
Hear us, great Son of Darkness and the Deep;
On thee we call, God of the dreamless sleep!

Enter Messenger.

MESS. Athenian citizens, my briefest tale
Were to say singly, Oedipus is gone;
But to describe the scene enacted yonder
Craves no brief speech, nor was the action brief.

CH. Then he is gone! Poor man!

MESS. Know it once for all,
He hath left eternally the light of day.

CH. Poor soul! What? Ended he with peace divine?

MESS. Ay, there is the main marvel. How he moved
From hence, thou knowest, for thou too wert here,
And saw’st that of his friends none guided him,
But he they loved was leader to them all.
Now, when he came to the steep pavement, rooted
[page 308][1591-1628] With adamant foundation deep in Earth,
On one of many paths he took his stand
Near the stone basin, where Peirithoüs
And Theseus graved their everlasting league.
There, opposite the mass of Laurian ore,
Turned from the hollow pear-tree and the tomb
Of marble, he sate down, and straight undid
His travel-soiled attire, then called aloud
On both his children, and bade some one fetch
Pure water from a running stream. And they,
Hasting together to the neighbouring hill
Of green Demeter, goddess of the Spring,
Brought back their sire’s commission speedily,
And bathed, and clothed him with the sacred robe.
When he was satisfied, and nothing now
Remained undone of all he bade them do,
The God of darkness thundered, and the maids
Stood horror-stricken on hearing; then together
Fell at their father’s knees and wept and wailed
Loudly and long with beating of the breast.
He, when that sound of sorrow pierced his ear,
Caressed them in his arms and said:—‘My daughters,
From this day forth you have no more a father.
All that was mine is ended, and no longer
Shall ye continue your hard ministry
Of labour for my life.—And yet, though hard,
Not unendurable, since all the toil
Was rendered light through love, which ye can never
Receive on earth so richly, as from him
Bereaved of whom ye now shall live forlorn.’
Such was the talk, mingled with sobs and crying,
As each clung fast to each. But when they came
To an end of weeping and those sounds were stilled,
First all was silent; then a sudden voice
Hurried him onward, making each man’s hair
Bristle on end with force of instant fear.
Now here, now there, not once but oftentimes,
A God called loudly, ‘Oedipus, Oedipus!
Why thus delay our going? This long while
We are stayed for and thou tarriest. Come away!’
[page 309][1629-1666] He, when he knew the summons of the God,
Gave word for royal Theseus to go near;
And when he came, said: ‘Friend for ever kind,
Reach thy right hand, I pray thee (that first pledge)
To these my children:—daughters, yours to him!—
And give thy sacred word that thou wilt never
Betray these willingly: but still perform
All that thou mayest with true thought for their good.’
He, with grand calmness like his noble self,
Promised on oath to keep this friendly bond.
And when he had done so, Oedipus forthwith
Stroking his children with his helpless hands
Spake thus:—‘My daughters, you must steel your hearts
To noble firmness, and depart from hence,
Nor ask to see or hear forbidden things.
Go, go at once! Theseus alone must stay
Sole rightful witness of these mysteries.’
Those accents were the last we all might hear.
Then, following the two maids, with checkless tears
And groans we took our way. But by and by,
At distance looking round, we saw,—not him,
Who was not there,—but Theseus all alone
Holding his hand before his eyes, as if
Some apparition unendurable
Had dazed his vision. In a little while,
We marked him making reverence in one prayer
To the Earth, and to the home of Gods on high.
But by what fate He perished, mortal man,
Save Theseus, none can say. No lightning-flash
From heaven, no tempest rising from the deep,
Caused his departure in that hour, but either
Some messenger from heaven, or, from beneath,
The lower part of Earth, where comes no pain,
Opening kindly to receive him in.
Not to be mourned, nor with a tearful end
Of sickness was he taken from the Earth,
But wondrously, beyond recorded fate.
If any deem my words unwise, I care not
In that man’s judgement to be counted wise.

[page 310][1667-1705] CH. Where are those maidens and their escort? Say.

MESS. They are not far off, but here. The voice of weeping
Betokens all too plainly their approach.

ANT. Alas!
How manifold, the inheritance of woe
Drawn from the troubled fountain of our birth!
Indelible, ineradicable grief!
For him erewhile
We had labour infinite and unrelieved,
And now in his last hour we have to tell
Of sights and sorrows beyond thought.

CH. How then?

ANT. Friends, ye might understand.

CH. Speak. Is he gone?

ANT. Gone! Even as heart could wish, had wishes power.
How else, when neither war, nor the wide sea
Encountered him, but viewless realms enwrapt him,
Wafted away to some mysterious doom?
Whence on our hearts a horror of night is fallen.
Woe ’s me! For whither wandering shall we find
Hard livelihood, by land or over sea?

ISM. I know not. Let dark Hades take me off
To lie in death with mine age honoured sire!
Death were far better than my life to be.

CH. Noblest of maidens, ye must learn to bear
Meekly the sending of the Gods. Be not
On fire with grief. Your state is well assured.

ANT. If to be thus is well, then may one long
For evil to return. Things nowise dear
Were dear to me, whiles I had him to embrace.
O father! loved one! that art wearing now
The eternal robe of darkness underground,
Old as thou wert, think not this maid and I
Will cease from loving thee!

CH. He met his doom.

ANT. He met the doom he longed for.

CH. How was that?

[page 311][1705-1741] ANT. In the strange land where he desired to die
He died. He rests in shadow undisturbed;
Nor hath he left a tearless funeral.
For these mine eyes, father, unceasingly
Mourn thee with weeping, nor can I subdue
This ever-mounting sorrow for thy loss.
Ah me! Would thou hadst not desired to die
Here among strangers, but alone with thee
There, in the desert, I had seen thee die!

ISM. Unhappy me! What destiny, dear girl,
Awaits us both, bereaved and fatherless?

CH. His end was fortunate. He rests in peace.
Dear maidens, then desist from your complaint.
Sorrow is swift to overtake us all.

ANT. Thither again, dear girl, let us go speedily!

ISM. Say, for what end?

ANT. Desire possesses me—

ISM. Whereof?

ANT. To see the darksome dwelling-place—

ISM. Of whom?

ANT. Woe is me! Of him, our sire!

ISM. But how
Can this be lawful? Seest thou not?

ANT. How say’st thou?
Why this remonstrance?

ISM. Seest thou not, again,
He hath no grave and no man buried him.

ANT. Take me but where he lies. Then slay me there.

ISM. Ah! woe is me, doubly unfortunate,
Forlorn and destitute, whither henceforth
For wretched comfort must we go?

CH. Fear nought,
Dear maidens!

ISM. Where shall we find refuge?

CH. Here,
Long since, your refuge is secure.

ANT. How so?

CH. No harm shall touch you.

ANT. I know that.

[page 312][1741-1778] CH. What then
Further engrosseth thee?

ANT. How to get home
I know not.

CH. Seek not for it.

ANT. Weariness
O’erweighs me.

CH. Hath it not before oppressed thee?

ANT. Before, it vexed me; now it overwhelms.

CH. A mighty sea of misery is your lot.

ANT. Woe is me! O Zeus! And whither must we go?
Unto what doom doth my Fate drive me now?

CH. Children, lament no longer. ’Tis not well
To mourn ’mongst those with whom the honoured dead
Hath left the heirloom of his benison.

Enter THESEUS.

ANT. Theseus, behold us falling at thy feet.

THE. What boon, my children, are ye bent to obtain?

ANT. Our eyes would see our father’s burial-place.

THE. ’Tis not permitted to go near that spot.

ANT. O Athens’ sovereign lord, what hast thou said?

THE. Dear children, ’twas your father’s spoken will
That no man should approach his resting-place,
Nor human voice should ever violate
The mystery of the tomb wherein he lies.
He promised, if I truly kept this word,
My land would evermore be free from harm.
The power which no man may transgress and live,
The oath of Zeus, bore witness to our troth.

ANT. His wishes are enough. Then, pray thee, send
An escort to convey us to our home,
Primeval Thebes, if so we may prevent
The death that menaces our brethren there.

THE. That will I; and in all that I may do
To prosper you and solace him beneath,—
Who even now passes to eternity,—
I must not falter. Come, lament no more.
His destiny hath found a perfect end.

NOTES

SOME PROPER NAMES

• AIDONEUS, Hades or Pluto.
• ARES, The War-God, a destructive Power.
• DEO, Demeter.
• ERINYES, the Furies.
• HELIOS, The Sun-God.
• RHEA, the Mother of the Gods.
• THEBE, the town of Thebes personified.

P. 6, l. 126. The serpent. The dragon, the emblem of Thebes.

l. 130. Idly caparisoned. Reading υπεροπλιαις.

P. 7, l. 140. Self-harnessed helper. An allusion to the σειραφορος, or side trace-horse, in a chariot-race.

P. 13, l. 342. Children of the steed. Mules are so-called by Homer.

P. 30, l. 955. Dryas’ hasty son. Lycurgus. See Homer, Iliad, vi.

l. 971. Phineus’ two sons. Idothea, the second wife of Phineus, persecuted his two sons by Cleopatra, a daughter of Boreas, whom he had repudiated and immured. The Argonauts saw them in the condition here described.

P. 34, l. 1120. The all-gathering bosom wide. The plain of Eleusis, where mysteries were held in honour of Dêo or Demeter.

P. 39, l. 1301. Reading *οξυθηκτω ... περι*ξιφει.

l. 1303. The glorious bed of buried Megareus. Megareus, son of Creon and Eurydice, sacrificed himself for Thebes by falling into a deep cave called the Dragon’s Lair.

P. 48, l. 172. Her blood-stained temple. In some of her temples Artemis was worshipped with sacrifices of bulls, and, according to an old tradition, also with human sacrifices.

P. 49. l. 190. The brood of Sisyphus. Amongst his enemies, Odysseus was reputed to be the offspring of Sisyphus and not of Laertes.

P. 59, l. 574. Named of the shield. Eurysakes means Broadshield.

P. 71, l. 1011. Who smiles no more. Compare a fragment of the Teucer of Sophocles (519, Nauck),

P. 86, l. 36. That stern songstress. The Sphinx. See also ‘minstrel hound.’

P. 96, l. 402. Will hunt | Pollution forth. The party cry of ‘driving out the pollution’ was raised against the Alcmaeonidae and other families in Athens, who were supposed to lie under a traditional curse.

P. 99. l. 525. Who durst declare it. Του προς δ’ εφανθη. Though the emphatic order of words is unusual, this seems more forcible than the var. τουπος δ’ εφανθη.

P. 102, l. 625. [CR. You’ll ne’er relent nor listen to my plea.] A line has here been lost in the original.

P. 113, l. 1025. Your purchase or your child? Oedipus is not to be supposed to have weighed the import of the Corinthian shepherd’s words, ‘Nor I nor he,’ &c., supra.

P. 128. l. 1526. His envied fortune mounted beaming. Reading εν ζηλω πολιτων (with 2 MSS) and επιφλεγων from my conjecture.

P. 131, l. 6. The wolf-slaying God. Apollo Lyceius, from Lycos, a wolf.

P. 140, l. 363. Ne’er be it mine, &c. Reading τουμε μη *λυπουν μονον | βοσκημα.

[page 315]P. 143, l. 451. That lingers on my brow. A somewhat forced interpretation of τηνδε λιπαρη τριχα. Possibly τηνδ’ αλαμπρυντον τριχα: ‘And this—unkempt and poor—yet give it to him.’

P. 144, l. 504. Chariot course of Pelops, full of toil. Pelops won his bride Hippodameia by bribing Myrtilus, his charioteer; whom, in order to conceal his fault, he flung into the sea.

P. 150, l. 722. That pulled the side-rope. See on Ant., p. 7, l. 140.

l. 151. In letting loose again the left-hand rein. The near horse (see above) knows his business, and, when the slackening of the rein shows that the goal is cleared, makes eagerly for the direct downward course. But if he is let go an instant too soon, he brings the car into contact with the stone.

l. 746. Caught in the reins. In an ancient chariot-race, the reins were often passed round the body of the charioteer, so as to give more purchase. See this described in the Hippolytus of Euripides.

P. 154, l. 837. One in a woman’s toils | was tangled. Amphiaraus, betrayed by Eriphyle for a necklace.

P. 160, l. 1085. Through homeless misery. I read αιων’ αοικον for αιωνα κοινον of the MSS.

l. 1086. Purging the sin and shame. I read καθαγνισασα for the impossible καθοπλισασα.

P. 172, l. 1478. Thou hast been taking, &c. Otherwise, reading with the MSS ζων τοις θανουσιν ουνεκ’ ανταυδας ισα, At point to die, thou art talking with the dead.

P. 180, l. 104. Bride of battle-wooing. ‘Dêanira’ signifies ‘Cause of strife to heroes.’

P. 185, l. 303. Ne’er may I see thee. The Spartan captives from Pylos had lately been at Athens, and some of them were reputed descendants of Hyllus, the son of Dêanira.

P. 195, l. 654. Frees him for ever. His last contest brings his final deliverance.

P. 201, l. 860. From Love’s dread minister, i.e. from Aphrodite, working through the concealed and silent Iole.

P. 222, l. 194. Through Chrysa’s cruel sting. Chrysa was an island near the Troad, sacred to a goddess of the name. Her precinct was guarded by a serpent, whose bite, from which Philoctetes suffered, was incurable. See below p. 254, l. 1327.

P. 226, l. 344. The fosterer of my sire. Phoenix, the tutor of Achilles.

P. 227, l. 351. For I ne’er | Had seen him. The legend which makes Achilles go to Troy from Scyros is probably ignored.

l. 384. Vile offset of an evil tree. Alluding to the supposed birth of Odysseus. See on Ai., l. 190, p. 49.

P. 230, l. 489. Of old Chalcodon. One of the former generation, a friend and neighbour of Poeas the father of Philoctetes.

P. 237, l. 729. Of him, whose home is in the skies. Heracles, imagined as transfigured on Mount Oeta.

P. 254, l. 1328. The sky-roofed fold. The open precinct that was sacred to the goddess, merely surrounded by a wall. See above, note on p. 222, l. 194.

P. 255, l. 1333. Phoebus’ child. Asclepius.

P. 265, l. 158. Mingles with draughts, &c. Where libations are mixed of water and honey.

P. 288, l. 888. The God. Poseidon. See above, p. 262, l. 55.

P. 306, l. 1525. neighbouring. γειτονων (the participle).

l. 1534. The dragon-brood. The Cadmeian race at Thebes, sprung from the dragon’s teeth sown by Cadmus.

N.B.—For other questionable points the student is referred to the small edition of Sophocles, by Campbell and Abbott (2 vols., Clarendon Press, 1900).