MEN.
Because he, whom we trusted to have brought
To lend us loyal help with heart and hand,
Proved in the trial a worse than Phrygian foe;
Who lay in wait for all the host by night,
And sallied forth in arms to shed our blood;
That, had not one in Heaven foiled this attempt,
Our lot had been to lie as he doth here
Dead and undone for ever, while he lived
And flourished. Heaven hath turned this turbulence
To fall instead upon the harmless flock.
Wherefore no strength of man shall once avail
To encase his body with a seemly tomb,
But outcast on the wide and watery sand,
He’ll feed the birds that batten on the shore.
Nor let thy towering spirit therefore rise
In threatening wrath. Wilt thou or not, our hand
Shall rule him dead, howe’er he braved us living,
And that by force; for never would he yield,
Even while he lived, to words from me. And yet
It shows base metal when the subject-wight
Deigns not to hearken to the chief in power.
Since without settled awe, neither in states
Can laws have rightful sway, nor can a host
Be governed with due wisdom, if no fear
Or wholesome shame be there to shield its safety.
And though a man wax great in thews and bulk,
Let him be warned: a trifling harm may ruin him.
Whoever knows respect and honour both
Stands free from risk of dark vicissitude.
But whereso pride and licence have their fling,
Be sure that state will one day lose her course
And founder in the abysm. Let fear have place
[page 73][1084-1122]
Still where it ought, say I, nor let men think
To do their pleasure and not bide the pain.
That wheel comes surely round. Once Aias flamed
With insolent fierceness. Now I mount in pride,
And loudly bid thee bury him not, lest burying
Thy brother thou be burrowing thine own grave.
CH.
Menelaüs, make not thy philosophy
A platform whence to insult the valiant dead.
TEU.
I nevermore will marvel, sirs, when one
Of humblest parentage is prone to sin,
Since those reputed men of noble strain
Stoop to such phrase of prating frowardness.
Come, tell it o’er again,—said you ye brought
My brother bound to aid you with his power?
Sailed he not forth of his own sovereign will?
Where is thy voucher of command o’er him?
Where of thy right o’er those that followed him?
Sparta, not we, shall buckle to thy sway.
’Twas written nowhere in the bond of rule
That thou shouldst check him rather than he thee.
Thou sailedst under orders, not in charge
Of all, much less of Aias. Then pursue
Thy limited direction, and chastise,
In haughty phrase, the men who fear thy nod.
But I will bury Aias, whether thou
Or the other general give consent or no.
’Tis not for me to tremble at your word.
Not to reclaim thy wife, like those poor souls
Thou flll’st with labour, issued this man forth,
But caring for his oath, and not for thee,
Or any other nobody. Then come
With heralds all arow, and bring the man
Called king of men with thee! For thy sole noise
I budge not, wert thou twenty times thy name.
CH.
The sufferer should not bear a bitter tongue.
Hard words, how just soe’er, will leave their sting.
MEN. Our bowman carries no small pride, I see.
TEU. No mere mechanic’s menial craft is mine.
MEN. How wouldst thou vaunt it hadst thou but a shield!
[page 74][1123-1158] TEU. Unarmed I fear not thee in panoply.
MEN. Redoubted is the wrath lives on thy tongue.
TEU. Whose cause is just hath licence to be proud.
MEN. Just, that my murderer have a peaceful end?
TEU. Thy murderer? Strange, to have been slain and live!
MEN. Yea, through Heaven’s mercy. By his will, I am dead.
TEU. If Heaven have saved thee, give the Gods their due.
MEN. Am I the man to spurn at Heaven’s command?
TEU. Thou dost, to come and frustrate burial.
MEN. Honour forbids to yield my foe a tomb.
TEU. And Aias was thy foeman? Where and when?
MEN. Hate lived between us; that thou know’st full well.
TEU. For thy proved knavery, coining votes i’ the court
MEN. The judges voted. He ne’er lost through me.
TEU. Guilt hiding guile wears often fairest front.
MEN. I know whom pain shall harass for that word.
TEU. Not without giving equal pain, ’tis clear.
MEN. No more, but this. No burial for this man!
TEU. Yea, this much more. He shall have instant burial.
MEN.
I have seen ere now a man of doughty tongue
Urge sailors in foul weather to unmoor,
Who, caught in the sea-misery by and by,
Lay voiceless, muffled in his cloak, and suffered
Who would of the sailors over trample him
Even so methinks thy truculent mouth ere long
Shall quench its outcry, when this little cloud
Breaks forth on thee with the full tempest’s might.
TEU.
I too have seen a man whose windy pride
Poured forth loud insults o’er a neighbour’s fall,
Till one whose cause and temper showed like mine
Spake to him in my hearing this plain word:
‘Man, do the dead no wrong; but, if thou dost,
Be sure thou shalt have sorrow.’ Thus he warned
The infatuate one: ay, one whom I behold,
[page 75][1158-1185]
For all may read my riddle—thou art he.
MEN.
I will be gone. ’Twere shame to me, if known,
To chide when I have power to crush by force.
TEU.
Off with you, then! ’Twere triple shame in me
To list the vain talk of a blustering fool.[Exit MENELAUS
LEADER OF CHORUS.
High the quarrel rears his head!
Haste thee, Teucer, trebly haste,
Grave-room for the valiant dead
Furnish with what speed thou mayst,
Hollowed deep within the ground,
Where beneath his mouldering mound
Aias aye shall be renowned.
Re-enter TECMESSA with EURYSAKES.
TEU.
Lo! where the hero’s housemate and his child,
Hitting the moment’s need, appear at hand,
To tend the burial of the ill fated dead.
Come, child, take thou thy station close beside:
Kneel and embrace the author of thy life,
In solemn suppliant fashion holding forth
This lock of thine own hair, and hers, and mine
With threefold consecration, that if one
Of the army force thee from thy father’s corse,
My curse may banish him from holy ground,
Far from his home, unburied, and cut off
From all his race, even as I cut this curl.
There, hold him, child, and guard him; let no hand
Stir thee, but lean to the calm breast and cling.
(To CHORUS)
And ye, be not like women in this scene,
Nor let your manhoods falter; stand true men
To this defence, till I return prepared,
Though all cry No, to give him burial.[Exit
CHORUS.
When shall the tale of wandering years be done?I 1
When shall arise our exile’s latest sun?
[page 76][1186-1125]
Oh, where shall end the incessant woe
Of troublous spear-encounter with the foe,
Through this vast Trojan plain,
Of Grecian arms the lamentable stain?
Would he had gone to inhabit the wide sky,I 2
Or that dark home of death where millions lie,
Who taught our Grecian world the way
To use vile swords and knit the dense array!
His toil gave birth to toil
In endless line. He made mankind his spoil.
His tyrant will hath forced me to forgoII 1
The garland, and the goblet’s bounteous flow:
Yea, and the flute’s dear noise,
And night’s more tranquil joys;
Ay me! nor only these,
The fruits of golden ease,
But Love, but Love—O crowning sorrow!—
Hath ceased for me. I may not borrow
Sweet thoughts from him to smooth my dreary bed,
Where dank night-dews fall ever on my head,
Lest once I might forget the sadness of the morrow.
Even here in Troy, Aias was erst my rock,II 2
From darkling fears and ’mid the battle-shock
To screen me with huge might:
Now he is lost in night
And horror. Where again
Shall gladness heal my pain?
O were I where the waters hoary,
Round Sunium’s pine-clad promontory,
Plash underneath the flowery upland height.
Then holiest Athens soon would come in sight,
And to Athena’s self I might declare my story.
Enter TEUCER.
TEU.
My steps were hastened, brethren, when I saw
Great Agamemnon hitherward afoot.
He means to talk perversely, I can tell.
[page 77][1126-1261]
Enter AGAMEMNON.
AG.
And so I hear thou’lt stretch thy mouth agape
With big bold words against us undismayed—
Thou, the she-captive’s offspring! High would scale
Thy voice, and pert would be thy strutting gait,
Were but thy mother noble; since, being naught,
So stiff thou stand’st for him who is nothing now,
And swear’st we came not as commanders here
Of all the Achaean navy, nor of thee;
But Aias sailed, thou say’st, with absolute right.
Must we endure detraction from a slave?
What was the man thou noisest here so proudly?
Have I not set my foot as firm and far?
Or stood his valour unaccompanied
In all this host? High cause have we to rue
That prize-encounter for Pelides’ arms,
Seeing Teucer’s sentence stamps our knavery
For all to know it; and nought will serve but ye,
Being vanquished, kick at the award that passed
By voice of the majority in the court,
And either pelt us with rude calumnies,
Or stab at us, ye laggards! with base guile.
Howbeit, these ways will never help to build
The wholesome order of established law,
If men shall hustle victors from their right,
And mix the hindmost rabble with the van.
That craves repression. Not by bulky size,
Or shoulders’ breadth, the perfect man is known;
But wisdom gives chief power in all the world.
The ox hath a huge broadside, yet is held
Right in the furrow by a slender goad;
Which remedy, I perceive, will pass ere long
To visit thee, unless thy wisdom grow;
Who hast uttered forth such daring insolence
For the pale shadow of a vanished man.
Learn modestly to know thy place and birth,
And bring with thee some freeborn advocate
To plead thy cause before us in thy room.
[page 78][1262-1300]
I understand not in the barbarous tongue,
And all thy talk sounds nonsense to mine ear.
CH.
Would ye might both have sense to curb your ire!
No better hope for either can I frame.
TEU.
Fie! How doth gratitude when men are dead
Prove renegade and swiftly pass away!
This Agamemnon hath no slightest word
Of kind remembrance any more for thee,
Aias, who oftentimes for his behoof
Hast jeoparded thy life in labour of war.
Now all is clean forgotten and out of mind.
Thou who hast multiplied words void of sense,
Hast thou no faintest memory of the time
When who but Aias came and rescued you
Already locked within the toils,—all lost,
The rout began: when close abaft the ships
The torches flared, and o’er the bootless trench
Hector was bounding high to board our fleet?
Who stayed that onset? Was not Aias he?
Whom thou deny’st to have once set foot by thine.
Find ye no merit there? And once again
When he met Hector singly, man to man,
Not by your bidding, but the lottery’s choice,
His lot, that skulked not low adown i’ the heap,
A moist earth-clod, but sure to spring in air,
And first to clear the plumy helmet’s brim.
Yes, Aias was the man, and I too there
Kept rank, the ‘barbarous mother’s servile son.’
I pity thee the blindness of that word.
Who was thy father’s father? A barbarian,
Pelops, the Phrygian, if you trace him far!
And what was Atreus, thine own father? One
Who served his brother with the abominable
Dire feast of his own flesh. And thou thyself
Cam’st from a Cretan mother, whom her sire
Caught with a man who had no right in her
And gave dumb fishes the polluted prey.
Such was thy race. What is the race thou spurnest?
My father, Telamon, of all the host
Being foremost proved in valour, took as prize
[page 79][1301-1337]
My mother for his mate: a princess she,
Born of Laomedon; Alcmena’s son
Gave her to grace him—a triumphant meed.
Thus royally descended and thus brave,
Shall I renounce the brother of my blood,
Or suffer thee to thrust him in his woes
Far from all burial, shameless that thou art?
Be sure that, if ye cast him forth, ye’ll cast
Three bodies more beside him in one spot;
For nobler should I find it here to die
In open quarrel for my kinsman’s weal,
Than for thy wife—or Menelaüs’, was ’t?
Consider then, not my case, but your own.
For if you harm me you will wish some day
To have been a coward rather than dare me.
CH.
Hail, Lord Odysseus! thou art come in time
Not to begin, but help to end, a fray.
Enter ODYSSEUS.
OD.
What quarrel, sirs? I well perceived from far
The kings high-voicing o’er the valiant dead.
AG.
Yea, Lord Odysseus, for our ears are full
Of this man’s violent heart-offending talk.
OD.
What words have passed? I cannot blame the man
Who meets foul speech with bitterness of tongue.
AG. My speech was bitter, for his deeds were foul.
OD. What deed of his could harm thy sovereign head?
AG.
He boldly says this corse shall not be left
Unburied, but he’ll bury it in our spite.
OD.
May I then speak true counsel to my friend,
And pull with thee in policy as of yore?
AG.
Speak. I were else a madman; for no friend
Of all the Argeians do I count thy peer.
OD.
Then hear me in Heaven’s name! Be not so hard
Thus without ruth tombless to cast him forth;
Nor be so vanquished by a vehement will,
That to thy hate even Justice’ self must bow.
I, too, had him for my worst enemy,
Since I gained mastery o’er Pelides’ arms.
[page 80][1338-1373]
But though he used me so, I ne’er will grudge
For his proud scorn to yield him thus much honour,
That, save Achilles’ self, I have not seen
So noble an Argive on the fields of Troy.
Then ’twere not just in thee to slight him now;
Nor would thy treatment wound him, but confound
The laws of Heaven. No hatred should have scope
To offend the noble spirits of the dead.
AG. Wilt thou thus fight against me on his side?
OD. Yea, though I hated him, while hate was comely.
AG. Why, thou shouldst trample him the more, being dead.
OD. Rejoice not, King, in feats that soil thy fame!
AG. ’Tis hard for power to observe each pious rule.
OD. Not hard to grace the good words of a friend.
AG. The ‘noble spirit’ should hearken to command.
OD. No more! ’Tis conquest to be ruled by love.
AG. Remember what he was thou gracest so.
OD. A noisome enemy; but his life was great.
AG. And wilt thou honour such a pestilent corse?
OD. Hatred gives way to magnanimity.
AG. With addle-pated fools.
OD.
Full many are found
Friends for an hour, yet bitter in the end.
AG. And wouldst thou have us gentle to such friends?
OD. I would not praise ungentleness in aught.
AG. We shall be known for weaklings through thy counsel.
OD. Not so, but righteous in all Grecian eyes.
AG. Thou bidst me then let bury this dead man?
OD. I urge thee to the course myself shall follow.
AG. Ay, every man for his own line! That holds.
OD. Why not for my own line? What else were natural?
AG. ’Twill be thy doing then, ne’er owned by me.
OD. Own it or not, the kindness is the same.
AG.
Well, for thy sake I’d grant a greater boon;
Then why not this? However, rest assured
That in the grave or out of it, Aias still
Shall have my hatred. Do thou what thou wilt.[Exit
[page 81][1374-1407]
CH.
Whoso would sneer at thy philosophy,
While such thy ways, Odysseus, were a fool.
OD.
And now let Teucer know that from this hour
I am more his friend than I was once his foe,
And fain would help him in this burial-rite
And service to his brother, nor would fail
In aught that mortals owe their noblest dead.
TEU.
Odysseus, best of men, thine every word
Hath my heart’s praise, and my worst thought of thee
Is foiled by thy staunch kindness to the man
Who was thy rancorous foe. Thou wast not keen
To insult in present of his corse, like these,
The insensate general and his brother-king,
Who came with proud intent to cast him forth
Foully debarred from lawful obsequy.
Wherefore may he who rules in yon wide heaven,
And the unforgetting Fury-spirit, and she,
Justice, who crowns the right, so ruin them
With cruellest destruction, even as they
Thought ruthlessly to rob him of his tomb!
For thee, revered Laërtes’ lineal seed,
I fear to admit thy hand unto this rite,
Lest we offend the spirit that is gone.
But for the rest, I hail thy proffered aid;
And bring whom else thou wilt, I’ll ne’er resent it.
This work shall be my single care; but thou,
Be sure I love thee for thy generous heart.
OD.
I had gladly done it; but, since thou declinest,
I bow to thy decision, and depart.[Exit
TEU.
Speed we, for the hour grows late:
Some to scoop his earthy cell,
Others by the cauldron wait,
Plenished from the purest well.
Hoist it, comrades, here at hand,
High upon the three-foot stand!
Let the cleansing waters flow;
Brightly flame the fire below!
Others in a stalwart throng
From his chamber bear along
[page 82][1408-1419]
All the arms he wont to wield
Save alone the mantling shield.
Thou with me thy strength employ,
Lifting this thy father, boy;
Hold his frame with tender heed—
Still the gashed veins darkly bleed.
Who professes here to love him?
Ply your busy cares above him,
Come and labour for the man,
Nobler none since time began,
Aias, while his life-blood ran.
LEADER OF CH.
Oft we know not till we see.
Weak is human prophecy.
Judge not, till the hour have taught thee
What the destinies have brought thee.
The following also appear, but do not speak:
SCENE. Before the Royal Palace in the Cadmean citadel of Thebes.
[page 84] Laius, the descendant of Cadmus, and king of Thebes (or Thebè), had been told by an oracle that if a son were born to him by his wife Jocasta the boy would be his father’s death.
Under such auspices, Oedipus was born, and to elude the prophecy was exposed by his parents on Mount Cithaeron. But he was saved by a compassionate shepherd, and became the adopted son of Polybus, king of Corinth. When he grew up he was troubled by a rumour that he was not his father’s son. He went to consult the oracle of Apollo at Delphi, and was told—not of his origin but of his destiny—that he should be guilty of parricide and incest.
He was too horror-stricken to return to Corinth, and as he travelled the other way, he met Laius going from Thebes to Delphi. The travellers quarrelled and the son killed his father, but knew not whom he had slain. He went onward till he came near Thebes, where the Sphinx was making havoc of the noblest citizens, devouring all who failed to solve her riddle. But Oedipus succeeded and overcame her, and, as Laius did not return, was rewarded with the regal sceptre,—and with the hand of the queen.
He reigned nobly and prosperously, and lived happily with Jocasta, by whom he had four children.
But after some years a plague descended on the people, and Apollo, on being inquired of, answered that it was for Laius’ death. The act of regicide must be avenged. Oedipus undertakes the task of discovering the murderer,—and in the same act discovers his own birth, and the fulfilment of both the former prophecies.
Jocasta hangs herself, and Oedipus in his despair puts out his eyes.
[page 85]
OEDIPUS—Priest of Zeus
(with the Train of Suppliants grouped before an altar).
OEDIPUS.
Nurslings of Cadmus, children of my care,
Why press ye now to kneel before my gate
With sacred branches in those suppliant hands,
While o’er your city clouds of incense rise
And sounds of praise, mingling with sounds of woe?
I would not learn of your estate, my sons,
Through others, wherefore I myself am come,
Your Oedipus,—a name well known to men.
Speak, aged friend, whose look proclaims thee meet
To be their spokesman—What desire, what fear
Hath brought you? Doubt not of my earnest will
To lend all succour. Hard would be the heart
That looked unmoved on such a kneeling throng.
PRIEST.
Great ruler of my country, thou beholdest
The different ages of our flock who here
Are gathered round thine altar,—some, whose wing
Hath not yet ventured far from home, and some
Burdened with many years, priests of the Gods,
Myself the arch priest of Zeus, and these fresh youths,
A chosen few. Others there are who crowd
The holy agora and the temples twain
Of Pallas, and Ismenus’ hallowed fires,
A suppliant host. For, as thyself perceivest,
Our city is tempest tost, and all too weak
To lift above the waves her weary prow
That plunges in a rude and ravenous sea.
Earth’s buds are nipped, withering the germs within,
Our cattle lose their increase, and our wives
Have fruitless travail; and that scourge from Heaven,
The fiery Pestilence abhorred of men,
Descending on our people with dire stroke
[page 86][27-65]
Lays waste the Home of Cadmus, while dark Death
Wins ample tribute of laments and groans.
We kneel, then, at thy hearth; not likening thee
Unto the gods, I nor these children here,
But of men counting thee the first in might
Whether to cope with earthly casualty
Or visiting of more than earthly Power.
Thou, in thy coming to this Theban land,
Didst take away the hateful tax we paid
To that stern songstress,—aided not by us
With hint nor counsel, but, as all believe,
Gifted from heaven with life-restoring thought.
Now too, great Oedipus of matchless fame,
We all uplift our suppliant looks to thee,
To find some help for us, whether from man,
Or through the prompting of a voice Divine.
Experienced counsel, we have seen and know,
Hath ever prosperous issue. Thou, then, come,
Noblest of mortals, give our city rest
From sorrow! come, take heed! seeing this our land
Now calls thee Saviour for thy former zeal;
And ’twere not well to leave this memory
Of thy great reign among Cadmean men,
‘He raised us up, only again to fall.’
Let the salvation thou hast wrought for us
Be flawless and assured! As once erewhile
Thy lucky star gave us prosperity,
Be the same man to-day. Wouldst thou be king
In power, as in command, ’tis greater far
To rule a people than a wilderness.
Since nought avails or city or buttressed wall
Or gallant vessel, if unmanned and void.
OED.
Ye touch me to the core. Full well I know
Your trouble and your desire. Think not, my sons,
I have no feeling of your misery!
Yet none of you hath heaviness like mine.
Your grief is held within the single breast
Of each man severally. My burdened heart
Mourns for myself, for Thebè, and for you.
Your coming hath not roused me from repose:
[page 87][66-102]
I have watched, and bitterly have wept; my mind
Hath travelled many a labyrinth of thought.
And now I have tried in act the only plan
Long meditation showed me. I have sent
The brother of my queen, Menoeceus’ son,
Creon, to learn, in Phoebus’ Delphian Hall,
What word or deed of mine may save this city.
And when I count the time, I am full of pain
To guess his speed; for he is absent long,
Beyond the limit of expectancy.
But when he shall appear, base then were I
In aught to disobey the voice of Heaven.
PR.
Lo, in good time, crowning thy gracious word,
’Tis told me by these youths, Creon draws near.
OED.
Apollo! may his coming be as blest
With saving fortune, as his looks are bright.
PR.
Sure he brings joyful news; else had he ne’er
Worn that full wreath of thickly-berried bay.
OED. We have not long to doubt. He can hear now.
Enter CREON.
Son of Menoeceus, brother of my queen,
What answer from Apollo dost thou bring?
CREON.
Good; for my message is that even our woes,
When brought to their right issue, shall be well.
OED.
What saith the oracle? Thy words so far
Neither embolden nor dishearten me.
CR.
Say, must I tell it with these standing by,
Or go within? I am ready either way.
OED.
Speak forth to all. The burden of their grief
Weighs more on me than my particular fear.
CE.
My lips shall utter what the God hath said.
Sovereign Apollo clearly bids us drive
Forth from this region an accursed thing
(For such is fostered in the land and stains
Our sacred clime), nor cherish it past cure.
OED. What is the fault, and how to be redressed?
CR.
By exile, or by purging blood with blood.
Since blood it is that shakes us with this storm.
OED. Whose murder doth Apollo thus reveal?
[page 88][103-137]
CR.
My gracious lord, before thy prosperous reign
King Laius was the leader of our land.
OED. Though I ne’er saw him, I have heard, and know.
CR.
Phoebus commands us now to punish home,
Whoe’er they are, the authors of his death.
OED.
But they, where are they? Where shall now be read
The fading record of this ancient guilt?
CR
He saith, ’tis in this land. And what is sought
Is found, while things uncared for glide away.
OED.
But where did Laius meet this violent end?
At home, afield, or on some foreign soil?
CR.
He had left us, as he said, to visit Delphi;
But nevermore returned since he set forth.
OED.
And was there none, no fellow traveller,
To see, and tell the tale, and help our search?
CR.
No, they were slain; save one, who, flying in fear,
Had nought to tell us but one only thing.
OED.
What was that thing? A little door of hope,
Once opened, may discover much to view.
CR.
A random troop of robbers, meeting him,
Outnumbered and o’erpowered him. So ’twas told.
OED.
What robber would have ventured such a deed,
If unsolicited with bribes from hence?
CR.
We thought of that. But Laius being dead,
We found no helper in our miseries.
OED.
When majesty was fallen, what misery
Could hinder you from searching out the truth?
CR.
A present trouble had engrossed our care.
The riddling Sphinx compelled us to observe
The moment’s grief, neglecting things unknown.
OED.
But I will track this evil to the spring
And clear it to the day. Most worthily
Doth great Apollo, worthily dost thou
Prompt this new care for the unthought of dead.
And me too ye shall find a just ally,
Succouring the cause of Phoebus and the land.
Since, in dispelling this dark cloud, I serve
[page 89][137-170]
No indirect or distant claim on me,
But mine own life, for he that slew the king
May one day turn his guilty hand ’gainst me
With equal rage. In righting Laius, then,
I forward mine own cause.—Now, children, rise
From the altar-steps, and lift your suppliant boughs,
And let some other summon to this place
All Cadmus’ people, and assure them, I
Will answer every need. This day shall see us
Blest with glad fortune through God’s help, or fallen.
PR.
Rise then, my children. Even for this we came
Which our good lord hath promised of himself.
Only may Phoebus, who hath sent this word,
With healing power descend, and stay the plague.
[Exeunt severally
CHORUS (entering).
Kind voice of Heaven, soft-breathing from the heightI 1
Of Pytho’s opulent home to Thebè bright,
What wilt thou bring to day?
Ah, Delian Healer, say!
My heart hangs on thy word with trembling awe:
What new giv’n law,
Or what returning in Time’s circling round
Wilt thou unfold? Tell us, immortal sound,
Daughter of golden Hope, tell us, we pray, we pray!
First, child of Zeus, Pallas, to thee appealing,I 2
Then to sweet Artemis, thy sister, kneeling,
Who with benignant hand
Still guards our sacred land,
Throned o’er the circling mart that hears her praise,
And thou, whose rays
Pierce evil from afar, ho! come and save,
Ye mighty three! if e’er before ye drave
The threatening fire of woe from Thebè, come to day!
For ah! the griefs that on me weighII 1
Are numberless; weak are my helpers all,
[page 90][170-215]
And thought finds not a sword to fray
This hated pestilence from hearth or hall.
Earth’s blossoms blasted fall:
Nor can our women rise
From childbed after pangs and cries;
But flocking more and more
Toward the western shore,
Soul after soul is known to wing her flight,
Swifter than quenchless flame, to the far realm of Night.
So deaths innumerable abound.II 2
My city’s sons unpitied lie around
Over the plague-encumbered ground
And wives and matrons old on every hand
Along the altar-strand
Groaning in saddest grief
Pour supplication for relief.
Loud hymns are sounding clear
With wailing voices near.
Then, golden daughter of the heavenly sire,
Send bright-eyed Succour forth to drive away this fire.
And swiftly speed afar,III 1
Windborne on backward car,
The viewless fiend who scares me with wild cries,
To oarless Thracian tide,
Of ocean-chambers wide,
About the bed where Amphitritè lies.
Day blights what night hath spared. O thou whose hand
Wields lightning, blast him with thy thundrous brand.
Shower from the golden stringIII 2
Thine arrows Lycian King!
O Phoebus, let thy fiery lances fly
Resistless, as they rove
Through Xanthus’ mountain-grove!
O Thoeban Bacchus of the lustrous eye,
With torch and trooping Maenads and bright crown
Blaze on thee god whom all in Heaven disown.
[OEDIPUS has entered during the Choral song
[page 91][216-251]
OED.
Your prayers are answered. Succour and relief
Are yours, if ye will heed my voice and yield
What help the plague requires. Hear it from me,
Who am hitherto a stranger to the tale,
As to the crime. Being nought concerned therewith,
I could not of myself divine the truth.
But now, as one adopted to your state,
To all of you Cadmeans I speak this:
Whoe’er among you knoweth the murderer
Of Laius, son of royal Labdacus,
Let him declare the deed in full to me.
First, if the man himself be touched with fear,
Let him depart, carrying the guilt away;
No harm shall follow him:—he shall go free.
Or if there be who knows another here,
Come from some other country, to have wrought
This murder, let him speak. Reward from me
And store of kind remembrance shall be his.
But if ye are silent, and one present here
Who might have uttered this, shall hold his peace,
As fearing for himself, or for his friend,
What then shall be performed, hear me proclaim.
I here prohibit all within this realm
Whereof I wield the sceptre and sole sway,
To admit the murderer, whosoe’er he be,
Within their houses, or to speak with him,
Or share with him in vow or sacrifice
Or lustral rite. All men shall thrust him forth,
Our dark pollution, so to me revealed
By this day’s oracle from Pytho’s cell.
So firm is mine allegiance to the God
And your dead sovereign in this holy war.
Now on the man of blood, whether he lurk
In lonely guilt, or with a numerous band,
I here pronounce this curse:—Let his crushed life
Wither forlorn in hopeless misery.
Next, I pray Heaven, should he or they be housed
With mine own knowledge in my home, that I
May suffer all I imprecate on them.
[page 92][252-287]
Last, I enjoin each here to lend his aid
For my sake, and the God’s, and for your land
Reft of her increase and renounced by Heaven.
It was not right, when your good king had fallen,
Although the oracle were silent still,
To leave this inquisition unperformed.
Long since ye should have purged the crime. But now
I, to whom fortune hath transferred his crown,
And given his queen in marriage,—yea, moreover,
His seed and mine had been one family
Had not misfortune trampled on his head
Cutting him off from fair posterity,—
All this being so, I will maintain his cause
As if my father’s, racking means and might
To apprehend the author of the death
Of Laius, son to Labdacus, and heir
To Polydorus and to Cadmus old,
And proud Agenor of the eldest time.
Once more, to all who disobey in this
May Heaven deny the produce of the ground
And offspring from their wives, and may they pine
With plagues more horrible than this to-day.
But for the rest of you Cadmean men,
Who now embrace my word, may Righteousness,
Strong to defend, and all the Gods for aye
Watch over you for blessing in your land.
LEADER OF CH.
Under the shadow of thy curse, my lord,
I will speak. I slew him not, nor can I show
The man who slew. Phoebus, who gave the word,
Should name the guilty one.
OED.
Thy thought is just,
But man may not compel the Gods.
CH.
Again,
That failing, I perceive a second way.
OED. Were there a third, spare not to speak it forth.
CH.
I know of one alone whose kingly mind
Sees all King Phoebus sees—Tirésias,—he
Infallibly could guide us in this quest.
OED.
That doth not count among my deeds undone.
[page 93][288-321]
By Creon’s counsel I have sent twice o’er
To fetch him, and I muse at his delay.
CH. The rumour that remains is old and dim.
OED. What rumour? Let no tale be left untried.
CH. ’Twas said he perished by some wandering band.
OED. But the one witness is removed from ken.
CH.
Well, if the man be capable of fear,
He’ll not remain when he hath heard thy curse.
OED.
Words have no terror for the soul that dares
Such doings.
CH.
Yet lives one who shall convict him.
For look where now they lead the holy seer,
Whom sacred Truth inspires alone of men.
Enter TIRESIAS.
OED.
O thou whose universal thought commands
All knowledge and all mysteries, in Heaven
And on the earth beneath, thy mind perceives,
Tirésias, though thine outward eye be dark,
What plague is wasting Thebè, who in thee,
Great Sir, finds her one saviour, her sole guide.
Phoebus (albeit the messengers perchance
Have told thee this) upon our sending sent
This answer back, that no release might come
From this disaster, till we sought and found
And slew the murderers of king Laius,
Or drave them exiles from our land. Thou, then,
Withhold not any word of augury
Or other divination which thou knowest,
But rescue Thebè, and thyself, and me,
And purge the stain that issues from the dead.
On thee we lean: and ’tis a noble thing
To use what power one hath in doing good.
TIRESIAS.
Ah! terrible is knowledge to the man
Whom knowledge profits not. This well I knew,
But had forgotten. Else I ne’er had come.
OED. Why dost thou bring a mind so full of gloom?
TI.
Let me go home. Thy part and mine to-day
Will best be borne, if thou obey me in that.
[page 94][322-356]
OED.
Disloyal and ungrateful! to deprive
The state that reared thee of thine utterance now.
TI.
Thy speech, I see, is foiling thine intent;
And I would shield me from the like mishap. (Going.)
OED.
Nay, if thou knowest, turn thee not away:
All here with suppliant hands importune thee.
TI.
Yea, for ye all are blind. Never will I
Reveal my woe;—mine, that I say not, thine.
OED.
So, then, thou hast the knowledge of the crime
And wilt not tell, but rather wouldst betray
This people, and destroy thy fatherland!
TI.
You press me to no purpose. I’ll not pain
Thee, nor myself. Thou wilt hear nought from me.
OED.
How? Miscreant! Thy stubbornness would rouse
Wrath in a breast of stone. Wilt thou yet hold
That silent, hard, impenetrable mien?
TI.
You censure me for my harsh mood. Your own
Dwells unsuspected with you. Me you blame!
OED.
Who can be mild and gentle, when thou speakest
Such words to mock this people?
TI.
It will come:
Although I bury it in silence here.
OED. Must not the King be told of what will come?
TI.
No word from me. At this, an if thou wilt,
Rage to the height of passionate vehemence.
OED.
Ay, and my passion shall declare my thought.
’Tis clear to me as daylight, thou hast been
The arch-plotter of this deed; yea, thou hast done
All but the actual blow. Hadst thou thy sight,
I had proclaimed thee the sole murderer.
TI.
Ay, say’st thou so?—I charge thee to abide
By thine own ordinance; and from this hour
Speak not to any Theban nor to me.
Thou art the vile polluter of the land.
OED.
O void of shame! What wickedness is this?
What power will give thee refuge for such guilt?
TI. The might of truth is scatheless. I am free.
[page 95][357-392] OED. Whence came the truth to thee? Not from thine art.
TI. From thee, whose rage impelled my backward tongue.
OED. Speak it once more, that I may know the drift.
TI. Was it so dark? Or wouldst thou tempt me further?
OED. I cannot say ’twas clear. Speak it again.
TI. I say thou art the murderer whom thou seekest.
OED. Again that baleful word! But thou shalt rue.
TI. Shall I add more, to aggravate thy wrath?
OED. All is but idleness. Say what thou wilt.
TI.
I tell thee thou art living unawares
In shameful commerce with thy near’st of blood,
Ignorant of the abyss wherein thou liest.
OED. Think you to triumph in offending still?
TI. If Truth have power.
OED.
She hath, but not for thee.
Blind as thou art in eyes and ears and mind.
TI.
O miserable reproach, which all who now
Behold thee, soon shall thunder forth on thee!
OED.
Nursed in unbroken night, thou canst not harm
Or me, or any man who seeth the day.
TI.
No, not from me proceeds thy fall; the God,
Who cares for this, is able to perform it.
OED. Came this device from Creon or thyself?
TI. Not Creon: thou art thy sole enemy.
OED.
O wealth and sovereign power and high success
Attained through wisdom and admired of men,
What boundless jealousies environ you!
When for this rule, which to my hand the State
Committed unsolicited and free,
Creon, my first of friends, trusted and sure,
Would undermine and hurl me from my throne,
Meanly suborning such a mendicant
Botcher of lies, this crafty wizard rogue,
Blind in his art, and seeing but for gain.
Where are the proofs of thy prophetic power?
How came it, when the minstrel-hound was here,
This folk had no deliverance through thy word?
[page 96][393-426]
Her snare could not be loosed by common wit,
But needed divination and deep skill;
No sign whereof proceeded forth from thee
Procured through birds or given by God, till I,
The unknowing traveller, overmastered her,
The stranger Oedipus, not led by birds,
But ravelling out the secret by my thought:
Whom now you study to supplant, and trust
To stand as a supporter of the throne
Of lordly Creon,—To your bitter pain
Thou and the man who plotted this will hunt
Pollution forth.—But for thy reverend look
Thou hadst atoned thy trespass on the spot.
CH.
Your friends would humbly deprecate the wrath
That sounds both in your speech, my lord, and his.
That is not what we need, but to discern
How best to solve the heavenly oracle.
TI.
Though thou art king and lord, I claim no less
Lordly prerogative to answer thee.
Speech is my realm; Apollo rules my life,
Not thou. Nor need I Creon to protect me.
Now, then: my blindness moves thy scorn:—thou hast
Thy sight, and seest not where thou art sunk in evil,
What halls thou dost inhabit, or with whom:
Know’st not from whence thou art—nay, to thy kin,
Buried in death and here above the ground,
Unwittingly art a most grievous foe.
And when thy father’s and thy mother’s curse
With fearful tread shall drive thee from the land,
On both sides lashing thee,—thine eye so clear
Beholding darkness in that day,—oh, then,
What region will not shudder at thy cry?
What echo in all Cithaeron will be mute,
When thou perceiv’st, what bride-song in thy hall
Wafted thy gallant bark with nattering gale
To anchor,—where? And other store of ill
Thou seest not, that shall show thee as thou art,
Merged with thy children in one horror of birth.
Then rail at noble Creon, and contemn
[page 97][427-460]
My sacred utterance! No life on earth
More vilely shall be rooted out, than thine.
OED.
Must I endure such words from him? Begone!
Off to thy ruin, and with speed! Away,
And take thy presence from our palace-hall!
TI. Had you not sent for me, I ne’er had come.
OED.
I knew not thou wouldst utter folly here,
Else never had I brought thee to my door.
TI.
To thee I am foolish, then; but to the pair
Who gave thee life, I was wise.
OED.
Hold, go not! who?
Who gave me being?
TI.
To-day shall bring to light
Thy birth and thy destruction.
OED.
Wilt thou still
Speak all in riddles and dark sentences?
TI. Methought thou wert the man to find them out.
OED. Ay! Taunt me with the gift that makes me great.
TI. And yet this luck hath been thy overthrow.
OED. I care not, since I rescued this fair town.
TI. Then I will go. Come, sirrah, guide me forth!
OED.
Be it so! For standing here you vex our eye,
But, you being gone, our trouble goes with you.
TI.
I go, but I will speak. Why should I fear
Thy frown? Thou ne’er canst ruin me. The word
Wherefore I came, is this: The man you seek
With threatening proclamation of the guilt
Of Laius’ blood, that man is here to-day,
An alien sojourner supposed from far,
But by-and-by he shall be certified
A true-born Theban: nor will such event
Bring him great joy; for, blind from having sight
And beggared from high fortune, with a staff
In stranger lands he shall feel forth his way;
Shown living with the children of his loins,
Their brother and their sire, and to the womb
That bare him, husband-son, and, to his father,
Parricide and corrival. Now go in,
[page 98][461-502]
Ponder my words; and if thou find them false,
then say my power is naught in prophecy.[Exeunt severally
CHORUS.
Whom hath the voice from Delphi’s rocky throneI 1
Loudly declared to have done
Horror unnameable with murdering hand?
With speed of storm-swift car
’Tis time he fled afar
With mighty footstep hurrying from the land.
For, armed with lightning brand,
The son of Zeus assails him with fierce bounds,
Hunting with Death’s inevitable hounds.
Late from divine Parnassus’ snow-capped heightI 2
This utterance sprang to light,
To track by every path the man unknown.
Through woodland caverns deep
And o’er the rocky steep
Harbouring in caves he roams the wild alone,
With none to share his moan.
Shunning that prophet-voice’s central sound,
Which ever lives, and haunts him, hovering round.
The reverend Seer hath stirred me with strange awe.II 1
Gainsay I cannot, nor yet think him true.
I know not how to speak. My fluttering heart
In wild expectancy sees nothing clear.
Things past and future with the present doubt
Are shrouded in one mist. What quarrel lay
’Twixt Cadmus’ issue and Corinthus’ heir
Was never shown me, from old times till now,
By one on whose sure word I might rely
In running counter to the King’s fair fame,
To wreak for Laius that mysterious death.
Zeus and Apollo scan the ways of menII 2
With perfect vision. But of mortals here
That soothsayers are more inspired than I
What certain proof is given? A man through wit
May pass another’s wisdom in the race.
[page 99][503-542]
But never, till I see the word fulfilled,
Will I confirm their clamour ’gainst the King.
In open day the female monster came:
Then perfect witness made his wisdom clear.
Thebè hath tried him and delights in him.
Wherefore my heart shall still believe him good.
Enter CREON.
CR.
Citizens, hearing of dire calumny
Denounced on me by Oedipus the King,
I am here to make loud protest. If he think,
In this embroilment of events, one word
Or deed of mine hath wrought him injury,
I am not careful to prolong my life
Beneath such imputation. For it means
No trifling danger, but disastrous harm,
Making my life dishonoured in the state,
And meanly thought of by my friends and you.
CH.
Perchance ’twas but the sudden flash of wrath,
Not the deliberate judgement of the soul.
CR.
Who durst declare it, that Tirésias spake
False prophecies, set on to this by me?
CH. Such things were said, I know not how advised.
CR.
And were the eyes and spirit not distraught,
When the tongue uttered this to ruin me?
CH.
I cannot say. To what my betters do
I am blind. But see, the King comes forth again.
Enter OEDIPUS.
OED.
Insolent, art thou here? Hadst thou the face
To bring thy boldness near my palace-roof,
Proved as thou art to have contrived my death
And laid thy robber hands upon my state?
Tell me, by heaven, had you seen in me
A coward or a fool, when you planned this?—
Deemed you I should be blind to your attempt
Craftily creeping on, or, when perceived,
Not ward it off? Is’t not a silly scheme,
To think to compass without troops of friends
Power, that is only won by wealth and men?
[page 100][543-578]
CR.
Wilt them be counselled? Hear as much in turn
As thou hast spoken, and then thyself be judge.
OED.
I know thy tongue, but I am slow to learn
From thee, whom I have found my grievous foe.
CR. First on this very point, hear me declare—
OED. I will not hear that thou art not a villain.
CR.
Thine is a shallow judgement, if thou thinkest
Self-will without true thought can bring thee gain.
OED.
Thine is a shallow judgement, if thou thinkest
Thou canst abuse thy kinsman and be free.
CR.
A rightful sentence. But I fain would learn
What wrong is that you speak of?
OED.
Tell me this;
Didst thou, or not, urge me to send and bring
The reverend-seeming prophet?
CR.
Yea, and still
I hold that counsel firm.
OED.
How long is ’t now
Since Laius—
CR. What? I do not catch your drift.
OED. Vanished in ruin by a dire defeat?
CR. ’Twere long to count the years that come between.
OED. And did this prophet then profess his art?
CR. Wise then as now, nor less in reverence.
OED. Then at that season did he mention me?
CR. Not in my hearing.
OED.
But, I may presume,
Ye held an inquisition for the dead?
CR. Yes, we inquired, of course: and could not hear.
OED. Why was he dumb, your prophet, in that day?
CR. I cannot answer, for I do not know.
OED. This you can answer, for you know it well.
CR. Say what? I will not gainsay, if I know.
OED.
That, but for your advice, he had not dared
To talk of Laius’ death as done by me.
CR.
You know, that heard him, what he spake. But I
Would ask thee too a question in my turn.
OED. No questioning will fasten blood on me.
CR. Hast thou my sister for thine honoured queen?
OED. The fact is patent, and denial vain.
[page 101][579-617] CR. And shar’st with her dominion of this realm?
OED. All she desires is given her by my will.
CR. Then, am not I third-partner with you twain?
OED. There is your villany in breaking fealty.
CR.
Not so, if thou wouldst reason with thyself
As I do. First consider one thing well:
Who would choose rule accompanied with fear
Before safe slumbers with an equal sway?
’Tis not my nature, no, nor any man’s,
Who follows wholesome thoughts, to love the place
Of domination rather than the power.
Now, without fear, I have my will from thee;
But were I king, I should do much unwillingly.
How then can I desire to be a king,
When masterdom is mine without annoy?
Delusion hath not gone so far with me
As to crave more than honour joined with gain.
Now all men hail me happy, all embrace me;
All who have need of thee, call in my aid;
For thereupon their fortunes wholly turn.
How should I leave this substance for that show?
No man of sense can harbour thoughts of crime.
Such vain ambition hath no charm for me,
Nor could I bear to lend it countenance.
If you would try me, go and ask again
If I brought Phoebus’ answer truly back.
Nay more, should I be found to have devised
Aught in collusion with the seer, destroy me,
Not by one vote, but two, mine own with thine.
But do not on a dim suspicion blame me
Of thy mere will. To darken a good name
Without clear cause is heinous wickedness;
And to cast off a worthy friend I call
No less a folly than to fling away
What most we love, the life within our breast.
The certainty of this will come with time;
For time alone can clear the righteous man.
An hour suffices to make known the villain.
CH.
Prudence bids hearken to such words, my lord,
For fear one fall. Swift is not sure in counsel.
[page 102][618-645]
OED.
When he who hath designs on me is swift
In his advance, I must bethink me swiftly.
Should I wait leisurely, his work hath gained
Achievement, while my plans have missed success.
CR. What would you then? To thrust me from the land?
OED.
Nay, death, not exile, is my wish for thee,
When all have seen what envy brings on men.
[CR. You’ll ne’er relent nor listen to my plea.]
OED. You’ll ne’er be governed or repent your guilt.
CR. Because I see thou art blind.
OED. Not to my need.
CR. Mine must be thought of too.
OED. You are a villain.
CR. How if thy thought be vain?
OED.
Authority
Must be maintained.
CR.
Not when authority
Declines to evil.
OED. O my citizens!
CR. I have a part in them no less than you.
LEADER OF CH.
Cease, princes. Opportunely I behold
Jocasta coming toward you from the palace.
Her presence may attune your jarring minds.
Enter JOCASTA.
JOCASTA.
Unhappy that ye are, why have ye reared
Your wordy rancour ’mid the city’s harms?
Have you no shame, to stir up private broils
In such a time as this? Get thee within! (To OED)
And thou too, Creon! nor enlarge your griefs
To make a mountain out of nothingness.
CR.
Sister, thy husband Oedipus declares
One of two horrors he will wreak on me,
Banishment from my native land, or death.
OED.
Yea, for I caught him practising, my queen,
Against our person with malignant guile.
CR.
May comfort fail me, and a withering curse
Destroy me, if I e’er planned aught of this.
[page 103][646-679]
JO.
I pray thee, husband, listen to his plea;
Chiefly respecting his appeal to Heaven,
But also me, and these who stand by thee.
CH. 1.
Incline to our requestI 1
Thy mind and heart, O King!
OED. What would you I should yield unto your prayer?
CH. 2.
Respect one ever wise,
Whose oath protects him now.
OED. Know ye what thing ye ask?
CH. 3. I know.
OED. Then plainly tell.
CH. 4.
Thy friend, who is rendered sacred by his oath,
Rob not of honour through obscure surmise.
OED.
In asking that, you labour for my death
Or banishment. Of this be well assured.