{"collection":"Classics","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/cla/soph/colonus.htm","path":"cla/soph/colonus.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/cla/soph/colonus.htm","text":"Dramatis Personae\nOEDIPUS, banished King of Thebes\nANTIGONE, his daughter\nISMENE, his daughter\nTHESEUS, King of Athens\nCREON, brother of Jocasta, now reigning at Thebes\nPOLYNEICES, elder son of Oedipus\nSTRANGER, a native of Colonus\nMESSENGER, an attendant of Theseus\nIn front of the grove of the Eumenides.\n(Enter the blind OEDIPUS led by his daughter, ANTIGONE.)\nOEDIPUS Child of an old blind sire, Antigone,\nWhat region, say, whose city have we reached?\nWho will provide today with scanted dole\nThis wanderer? 'Tis little that he craves,\nAnd less obtains--that less enough for me;\nFor I am taught by suffering to endure,\nAnd the long years that have grown old with me,\nAnd last not least, by true nobility.\nMy daughter, if thou seest a resting place\nOn common ground or by some sacred grove,\nStay me and set me down. Let us discover\nWhere we have come, for strangers must inquire\nOf denizens, and do as they are bid.\nANTIGONE Long-suffering father, Oedipus, the towers\nThat fence the city still are faint and far;\nBut where we stand is surely holy ground;\nA wilderness of laurel, olive, vine;\nWithin a choir or songster nightingales\nAre warbling. On this native seat of rock\nRest; for an old man thou hast traveled far.\nOEDIPUS Guide these dark steps and seat me there secure.\nANTIGONE If time can teach, I need not to be told.\nOEDIPUS Say, prithee, if thou knowest, where we are.\nANTIGONE Athens I recognize, but not the spot.\nOEDIPUS That much we heard from every wayfarer.\nANTIGONE Shall I go on and ask about the place?\nOEDIPUS Yes, daughter, if it be inhabited.\nANTIGONE Sure there are habitations; but no need\nTo leave thee; yonder is a man hard by.\nOEDIPUS What, moving hitherward and on his way?\nANTIGONE Say rather, here already. Ask him straight\nThe needful questions, for the man is here. (Enter STRANGER)\nOEDIPUS O stranger, as I learn from her whose eyes\nMust serve both her and me, that thou art here\nSent by some happy chance to serve our doubts--\nSTRANGER First quit that seat, then question me at large:\nThe spot thou treadest on is holy ground.\nOEDIPUS What is the site, to what god dedicate?\nSTRANGER Inviolable, untrod; goddesses,\nDread brood of Earth and Darkness, here abide.\nOEDIPUS Tell me the awful name I should invoke?\nSTRANGER The Gracious Ones, All-seeing, so our folk\nCall them, but elsewhere other names are rife.\nOEDIPUS Then may they show their suppliant grace, for I\nFrom this your sanctuary will ne'er depart.\nSTRANGER What word is this?\nOEDIPUS The watchword of my fate.\nSTRANGER Nay, 'tis not mine to bid thee hence without\nDue warrant and instruction from the State.\nOEDIPUS Now in God's name, O stranger, scorn me not\nAs a wayfarer; tell me what I crave.\nSTRANGER Ask; your request shall not be scorned by me.\nOEDIPUS How call you then the place wherein we bide?\nSTRANGER Whate'er I know thou too shalt know; the place\nIs all to great Poseidon consecrate.\nHard by, the Titan, he who bears the torch,\nPrometheus, has his worship; but the spot\nThou treadest, the Brass-footed Threshold named,\nIs Athens' bastion, and the neighboring lands\nClaim as their chief and patron yonder knight\nColonus, and in common bear his name.\nSuch, stranger, is the spot, to fame unknown,\nBut dear to us its native worshipers.\nOEDIPUS Thou sayest there are dwellers in these parts?\nSTRANGER Surely; they bear the name of yonder god.\nOEDIPUS Ruled by a king or by the general voice?\nSTRANGER The lord of Athens is our over-lord.\nOEDIPUS Who is this monarch, great in word and might?\nSTRANGER Theseus, the son of Aegeus our late king.\nOEDIPUS Might one be sent from you to summon him?\nSTRANGER Wherefore? To tell him aught or urge his coming?\nOEDIPUS Say a slight service may avail him much.\nSTRANGER How can he profit from a sightless man?\nOEDIPUS The blind man's words will be instinct with sight.\nSTRANGER Heed then; I fain would see thee out of harm;\nFor by the looks, marred though they be by fate,\nI judge thee noble; tarry where thou art,\nWhile I go seek the burghers--those at hand,\nNot in the city. They will soon decide\nWhether thou art to rest or go thy way. (Exit STRANGER)\nOEDIPUS Tell me, my daughter, has the stranger gone?\nANTIGONE Yes, he has gone; now we are all alone,\nAnd thou may'st speak, dear father, without fear.\nOEDIPUS Stern-visaged queens, since coming to this land\nFirst in your sanctuary I bent the knee,\nFrown not on me or Phoebus, who, when erst\nHe told me all my miseries to come,\nSpake of this respite after many years,\nSome haven in a far-off land, a rest\nVouchsafed at last by dread divinities.\n\"There,\" said he, \"shalt thou round thy weary life,\nA blessing to the land wherein thou dwell'st,\nBut to the land that cast thee forth, a curse.\"\nAnd of my weird he promised signs should come,\nEarthquake, or thunderclap, or lightning flash.\nAnd now I recognize as yours the sign\nThat led my wanderings to this your grove;\nElse had I never lighted on you first,\nA wineless man on your seat of native rock.\nO goddesses, fulfill Apollo's word,\nGrant me some consummation of my life,\nIf haply I appear not all too vile,\nA thrall to sorrow worse than any slave.\nHear, gentle daughters of primeval Night,\nHear, namesake of great Pallas; Athens, first\nOf cities, pity this dishonored shade,\nThe ghost of him who once was Oedipus.\nANTIGONE Hush! for I see some grey-beards on their way,\nTheir errand to spy out our resting-place.\nOEDIPUS I will be mute, and thou shalt guide my steps\nInto the covert from the public road,\nTill I have learned their drift. A prudent man\nWill ever shape his course by what he learns. (Enter CHORUS)\nCHORUS (strophe 1)\nHa! Where is he? Look around!\nEvery nook and corner scan!\nHe the all-presumptuous man,\nWhither vanished? search the ground!\nA wayfarer, I ween,\nA wayfarer, no countryman of ours,\nThat old man must have been;\nNever had native dared to tempt the Powers,\nOr enter their demesne,\nThe Maids in awe of whom each mortal cowers,\nWhose name no voice betrays nor cry,\nAnd as we pass them with averted eye,\nWe move hushed lips in reverent piety.\nBut now some godless man,\n'Tis rumored, here abides;\nThe precincts through I scan,\nYet wot not where he hides,\nThe wretch profane!\nI search and search in vain.\nOEDIPUS I am that man; I know you near\nEars to the blind, they say, are eyes.\nCHORUS O dread to see and dread to hear!\nOEDIPUS Oh sirs, I am no outlaw under ban.\nCHORUS Who can he be--Zeus save us!--this old man?\nOEDIPUS No favorite of fate,\nThat ye should envy his estate,\nO, Sirs, would any happy mortal, say,\nGrope by the light of other eyes his way,\nOr face the storm upon so frail a stay?\nCHORUS (antistrophe 1)\nWast thou then sightless from thy birth?\nEvil, methinks, and long\nThy pilgrimage on earth.\nYet add not curse to curse and wrong to wrong.\nI warn thee, trespass not\nWithin this hallowed spot,\nLest thou shouldst find the silent grassy glade\nWhere offerings are laid,\nBowls of spring water mingled with sweet mead.\nThou must not stay,\nCome, come away,\nTired wanderer, dost thou heed?\n(We are far off, but sure our voice can reach.)\nIf aught thou wouldst beseech,\nSpeak where 'tis right; till then refrain from speech.\nOEDIPUS Daughter, what counsel should we now pursue?\nANTIGONE We must obey and do as here they do.\nOEDIPUS Thy hand then!\nANTIGONE Here, O father, is my hand,\nOEDIPUS O Sirs, if I come forth at your command,\nLet me not suffer for my confidence.\nCHORUS (strophe 2)\nAgainst thy will no man shall drive thee hence.\nOEDIPUS Shall I go further?\nCHORUS Aye.\nOEDIPUS What further still?\nCHORUS Lead maiden, thou canst guide him where we will.\nANTIGONE Follow with blind steps, father, as I lead.\nCHORUS In a strange land strange thou art;\nTo her will incline thy heart;\nHonor whatso'er the State\nHonors, all she frowns on hate.\nOEDIPUS Guide me child, where we may range\nSafe within the paths of right;\nCounsel freely may exchange\nNor with fate and fortune fight.\nCHORUS (antistrophe 2)\nHalt! Go no further than that rocky floor.\nOEDIPUS Stay where I now am?\nCHORUS Yes, advance no more.\nOEDIPUS May I sit down?\nCHORUS Move sideways towards the ledge,\nAnd sit thee crouching on the scarped edge.\nANTIGONE This is my office, father, O incline--\nOEDIPUS Ah me! ah me!\nANTIGONE Thy steps to my steps, lean thine aged frame on mine.\nOEDIPUS Woe on my fate unblest!\nCHORUS Wanderer, now thou art at rest,\nTell me of thy birth and home,\nFrom what far country art thou come,\nLed on thy weary way, declare!\nOEDIPUS Strangers, I have no country. O forbear--\nCHORUS What is it, old man, that thou wouldst conceal?\nOEDIPUS Forbear, nor urge me further to reveal--\nCHORUS Why this reluctance?\nOEDIPUS Dread my lineage.\nCHORUS Say!\nOEDIPUS What must I answer, child, ah welladay!\nCHORUS Say of what stock thou comest, what man's son--\nOEDIPUS Ah me, my daughter, now we are undone!\nANTIGONE Speak, for thou standest on the slippery verge.\nOEDIPUS I will; no plea for silence can I urge.\nCHORUS Will neither speak? Come, Sir, why dally thus!\nOEDIPUS Know'st one of Laius'--\nCHORUS Ha? Who!\nOEDIPUS Seed of Labdacus--\nCHORUS Oh Zeus!\nOEDIPUS The hapless Oedipus.\nCHORUS Art he?\nOEDIPUS Whate'er I utter, have no fear of me.\nCHORUS Begone!\nOEDIPUS O wretched me!\nCHORUS Begone!\nOEDIPUS O daughter, what will hap anon?\nCHORUS Forth from our borders speed ye both!\nOEDIPUS How keep you then your troth?\nCHORUS Heaven's justice never smites\nHim who ill with ill requites.\nBut if guile with guile contend,\nBane, not blessing, is the end.\nArise, begone and take thee hence straightway,\nLest on our land a heavier curse thou lay.\nANTIGONE O sirs! ye suffered not my father blind,\nAlbeit gracious and to ruth inclined,\nKnowing the deeds he wrought, not innocent,\nBut with no ill intent;\nYet heed a maiden's moan\nWho pleads for him alone;\nMy eyes, not reft of sight,\nPlead with you as a daughter's might\nYou are our providence,\nO make us not go hence!\nO with a gracious nod\nGrant us the nigh despaired-of boon we crave?\nHear us, O hear,\nBut all that ye hold dear,\nWife, children, homestead, hearth and God!\nWhere will you find one, search ye ne'er so well.\nWho 'scapes perdition if a god impel!\nCHORUS Surely we pity thee and him alike\nDaughter of Oedipus, for your distress;\nBut as we reverence the decrees of Heaven\nWe cannot say aught other than we said.\nOEDIPUS O what avails renown or fair repute?\nAre they not vanity? For, look you, now\nAthens is held of States the most devout,\nAthens alone gives hospitality\nAnd shelters the vexed stranger, so men say.\nHave I found so? I whom ye dislodged\nFirst from my seat of rock and now would drive\nForth from your land, dreading my name alone;\nFor me you surely dread not, nor my deeds,\nDeeds of a man more sinned against than sinning,\nAs I might well convince you, were it meet\nTo tell my mother's story and my sire's,\nThe cause of this your fear. Yet am I then\nA villain born because in self-defense,\nStriken, I struck the striker back again?\nE'en had I known, no villainy 'twould prove:\nBut all unwitting whither I went, I went--\nTo ruin; my destroyers knew it well,\nWherefore, I pray you, sirs, in Heaven's name,\nEven as ye bade me quit my seat, defend me.\nO pay not a lip service to the gods\nAnd wrong them of their dues. Bethink ye well,\nThe eye of Heaven beholds the just of men,\nAnd the unjust, nor ever in this world\nHas one sole godless sinner found escape.\nStand then on Heaven's side and never blot\nAthens' fair scutcheon by abetting wrong.\nI came to you a suppliant, and you pledged\nYour honor; O preserve me to the end,\nO let not this marred visage do me wrong!\nA holy and god-fearing man is here\nWhose coming purports comfort for your folk.\nAnd when your chief arrives, whoe'er he be,\nThen shall ye have my story and know all.\nMeanwhile I pray you do me no despite.\nCHORUS The plea thou urgest, needs must give us pause,\nSet forth in weighty argument, but we\nMust leave the issue with the ruling powers.\nOEDIPUS Where is he, strangers, he who sways the realm?\nCHORUS In his ancestral seat; a messenger,\nThe same who sent us here, is gone for him.\nOEDIPUS And think you he will have such care or thought\nFor the blind stranger as to come himself?\nCHORUS Aye, that he will, when once he learns thy name.\nOEDIPUS But who will bear him word!\nCHORUS The way is long,\nAnd many travelers pass to speed the news.\nBe sure he'll hear and hasten, never fear;\nSo wide and far thy name is noised abroad,\nThat, were he ne'er so spent and loth to move,\nHe would bestir him when he hears of thee.\nOEDIPUS Well, may he come with blessing to his State\nAnd me! Who serves his neighbor serves himself.\nANTIGONE Zeus! What is this? What can I say or think?\nOEDIPUS What now, Antigone?\nANTIGONE I see a woman\nRiding upon a colt of Aetna's breed;\nShe wears for headgear a Thessalian hat\nTo shade her from the sun. Who can it be?\nShe or a stranger? Do I wake or dream?\n'This she; 'tis not--I cannot tell, alack;\nIt is no other! Now her bright'ning glance\nGreets me with recognition, yes, 'tis she,\nHerself, Ismene!\nOEDIPUS Ha! what say ye, child?\nANTIGONE That I behold thy daughter and my sister,\nAnd thou wilt know her straightway by her voice. (Enter ISMENE)\nISMENE Father and sister, names to me most sweet,\nHow hardly have I found you, hardly now\nWhen found at last can see you through my tears!\nOEDIPUS Art come, my child?\nISMENE O father, sad thy plight!\nOEDIPUS Child, thou art here?\nISMENE Yes, 'twas a weary way.\nOEDIPUS Touch me, my child.\nISMENE I give a hand to both.\nOEDIPUS O children--sisters!\nISMENE O disastrous plight!\nOEDIPUS Her plight and mine?\nISMENE Aye, and my own no less.\nOEDIPUS What brought thee, daughter?\nISMENE Father, care for thee.\nOEDIPUS A daughter's yearning?\nISMENE Yes, and I had news\nI would myself deliver, so I came\nWith the one thrall who yet is true to me.\nOEDIPUS Thy valiant brothers, where are they at need?\nISMENE They are--enough, 'tis now their darkest hour.\nOEDIPUS Out on the twain! The thoughts and actions all\nAre framed and modeled on Egyptian ways.\nFor there the men sit at the loom indoors\nWhile the wives slave abroad for daily bread.\nSo you, my children--those whom I behooved\nTo bear the burden, stay at home like girls,\nWhile in their stead my daughters moil and drudge,\nLightening their father's misery. The one\nSince first she grew from girlish feebleness\nTo womanhood has been the old man's guide\nAnd shared my weary wandering, roaming oft\nHungry and footsore through wild forest ways,\nIn drenching rains and under scorching suns,\nCareless herself of home and ease, if so\nHer sire might have her tender ministry.\nAnd thou, my child, whilom thou wentest forth,\nEluding the Cadmeians' vigilance,\nTo bring thy father all the oracles\nConcerning Oedipus, and didst make thyself\nMy faithful lieger, when they banished me.\nAnd now what mission summons thee from home,\nWhat news, Ismene, hast thou for thy father?\nThis much I know, thou com'st not empty-handed,\nWithout a warning of some new alarm.\nISMENE The toil and trouble, father, that I bore\nTo find thy lodging-place and how thou faredst,\nI spare thee; surely 'twere a double pain\nTo suffer, first in act and then in telling;\n'Tis the misfortune of thine ill-starred sons\nI come to tell thee. At the first they willed\nTo leave the throne to Creon, minded well\nThus to remove the inveterate curse of old,\nA canker that infected all thy race.\nBut now some god and an infatuate soul\nHave stirred betwixt them a mad rivalry\nTo grasp at sovereignty and kingly power.\nToday the hot-branded youth, the younger born,\nIs keeping Polyneices from the throne,\nHis elder, and has thrust him from the land.\nThe banished brother (so all Thebes reports)\nFled to the vale of Argos, and by help\nOf new alliance there and friends in arms,\nSwears he will stablish Argos straight as lord\nOf the Cadmeian land, or, if he fail,\nExalt the victor to the stars of heaven.\nThis is no empty tale, but deadly truth,\nMy father; and how long thy agony,\nEre the gods pity thee, I cannot tell.\nOEDIPUS Hast thou indeed then entertained a hope\nThe gods at last will turn and rescue me?\nISMENE Yea, so I read these latest oracles.\nOEDIPUS What oracles? What hath been uttered, child?\nISMENE Thy country (so it runs) shall yearn in time\nTo have thee for their weal alive or dead.\nOEDIPUS And who could gain by such a one as I?\nISMENE On thee, 'tis said, their sovereignty depends.\nOEDIPUS So, when I cease to be, my worth begins.\nISMENE The gods, who once abased, uplift thee now.\nOEDIPUS Poor help to raise an old man fallen in youth.\nISMENE Howe'er that be, 'tis for this cause alone\nThat Creon comes to thee--and comes anon.\nOEDIPUS With what intent, my daughter? Tell me plainly.\nISMENE To plant thee near the Theban land, and so\nKeep thee within their grasp, yet now allow\nThy foot to pass beyond their boundaries.\nOEDIPUS What gain they, if I lay outside?\nOEDIPUS Thy tomb, If disappointed, brings on them a curse.\nOEDIPUS It needs no god to tell what's plain to sense.\nISMENE Therefore they fain would have thee close at hand,\nNot where thou wouldst be master of thyself.\nOEDIPUS Mean they to shroud my bones in Theban dust?\nISMENE Nay, father, guilt of kinsman's blood forbids.\nOEDIPUS Then never shall they be my masters, never!\nISMENE Thebes, thou shalt rue this bitterly some day!\nOEDIPUS When what conjunction comes to pass, my child?\nISMENE Thy angry wraith, when at thy tomb they stand.\nOEDIPUS And who hath told thee what thou tell'st me, child?\nISMENE Envoys who visited the Delphic hearth.\nOEDIPUS Hath Phoebus spoken thus concerning me?\nISMENE So say the envoys who returned to Thebes.\nOEDIPUS And can a son of mine have heard of this?\nISMENE Yea, both alike, and know its import well.\nOEDIPUS They knew it, yet the ignoble greed of rule\nOutweighed all longing for their sire's return.\nISMENE Grievous thy words, yet I must own them true.\nOEDIPUS Then may the gods ne'er quench their fatal feud,\nAnd mine be the arbitrament of the fight,\nFor which they now are arming, spear to spear;\nThat neither he who holds the scepter now\nMay keep this throne, nor he who fled the realm\nReturn again. They never raised a hand,\nWhen I their sire was thrust from hearth and home,\nWhen I was banned and banished, what recked they?\nSay you 'twas done at my desire, a grace\nWhich the state, yielding to my wish, allowed?\nNot so; for, mark you, on that very day\nWhen in the tempest of my soul I craved\nDeath, even death by stoning, none appeared\nTo further that wild longing, but anon,\nWhen time had numbed my anguish and I felt\nMy wrath had all outrun those errors past,\nThen, then it was the city went about\nBy force to oust me, respited for years;\nAnd then my sons, who should as sons have helped,\nDid nothing: and, one little word from them\nWas all I needed, and they spoke no word,\nBut let me wander on for evermore,\nA banished man, a beggar. These two maids\nTheir sisters, girls, gave all their sex could give,\nFood and safe harborage and filial care;\nWhile their two brethren sacrificed their sire\nFor lust of power and sceptred sovereignty.\nNo! me they ne'er shall win for an ally,\nNor will this Theban kingship bring them gain;\nThat know I from this maiden's oracles,\nAnd those old prophecies concerning me,\nWhich Phoebus now at length has brought to pass.\nCome Creon then, come all the mightiest\nIn Thebes to seek me; for if ye my friends,\nChampioned by those dread Powers indigenous,\nEspouse my cause; then for the State ye gain\nA great deliverer, for my foemen bane.\nCHORUS Our pity, Oedipus, thou needs must move,\nThou and these maidens; and the stronger plea\nThou urgest, as the savior of our land,\nDisposes me to counsel for thy weal.\nOEDIPUS Aid me, kind sirs; I will do all you bid.\nCHORUS First make atonement to the deities,\nWhose grove by trespass thou didst first profane.\nOEDIPUS After what manner, stranger? Teach me, pray.\nCHORUS Make a libation first of water fetched\nWith undefiled hands from living spring.\nOEDIPUS And after I have gotten this pure draught?\nCHORUS Bowls thou wilt find, the carver's handiwork;\nCrown thou the rims and both the handles crown--\nOEDIPUS With olive shoots or blocks of wool, or how?\nCHORUS With wool from fleece of yearling freshly shorn.\nOEDIPUS What next? how must I end the ritual?\nCHORUS Pour thy libation, turning to the dawn.\nOEDIPUS Pouring it from the urns whereof ye spake?\nCHORUS Yea, in three streams; and be the last bowl drained\nTo the last drop.\nOEDIPUS And wherewith shall I fill it,\nEre in its place I set it? This too tell.\nCHORUS With water and with honey; add no wine.\nOEDIPUS And when the embowered earth hath drunk thereof?\nCHORUS Then lay upon it thrice nine olive sprays\nWith both thy hands, and offer up this prayer.\nOEDIPUS I fain would hear it; that imports the most.\nCHORUS That, as we call them Gracious, they would deign\nTo grant the suppliant their saving grace.\nSo pray thyself or whoso pray for thee,\nIn whispered accents, not with lifted voice;\nThen go and look back. Do as I bid,\nAnd I shall then be bold to stand thy friend;\nElse, stranger, I should have my fears for thee.\nOEDIPUS Hear ye, my daughters, what these strangers say?\nANTIGONE We listened, and attend thy bidding, father.\nOEDIPUS I cannot go, disabled as I am\nDoubly, by lack of strength and lack of sight;\nBut one of you may do it in my stead;\nFor one, I trow, may pay the sacrifice\nOf thousands, if his heart be leal and true.\nSo to your work with speed, but leave me not\nUntended; for this frame is all too week\nTo move without the help of guiding hand.\nISMENE Then I will go perform these rites, but where\nTo find the spot, this have I yet to learn.\nCHORUS Beyond this grove; if thou hast need of aught,\nThe guardian of the close will lend his aid.\nISMENE I go, and thou, Antigone, meanwhile\nMust guard our father. In a parent's cause\nToil, if there be toil, is of no account. (Exit ISMENE)\nCHORUS (strophe 1)\nIll it is, stranger, to awake\nPain that long since has ceased to ache,\nAnd yet I fain would hear--\nOEDIPUS What thing?\nCHORUS Thy tale of cruel suffering\nFor which no cure was found,\nThe fate that held thee bound.\nOEDIPUS O bid me not (as guest I claim\nThis grace) expose my shame.\nCHORUS The tale is bruited far and near,\nAnd echoes still from ear to ear.\nThe truth, I fain would hear.\nOEDIPUS Ah me!\nCHORUS I prithee yield.\nOEDIPUS Ah me!\nCHORUS Grant my request, I granted all to thee.\nOEDIPUS (antistrophe 1)\nKnow then I suffered ills most vile, but none\n(So help me Heaven!) from acts in malice done.\nCHORUS Say how.\nOEDIPUS The State around\nAn all unwitting bridegroom bound\nAn impious marriage chain;\nThat was my bane.\nCHORUS Didst thou in sooth then share\nA bed incestuous with her that bare--\nOEDIPUS It stabs me like a sword,\nThat two-edged word,\nO stranger, but these maids--my own--\nCHORUS Say on.\nOEDIPUS Two daughters, curses twain.\nCHORUS Oh God!\nOEDIPUS Sprang from the wife and mother's travail-pain.\nCHORUS (strophe 2)\nWhat, then thy offspring are at once--\nOEDIPUS Too true. Their father's very sister's too.\nCHORUS Oh horror!\nOEDIPUS Horrors from the boundless deep\nBack on my soul in refluent surges sweep.\nCHORUS Thou hast endured--\nOEDIPUS Intolerable woe.\nCHORUS And sinned--\nOEDIPUS I sinned not.\nCHORUS How so?\nOEDIPUS I served the State; would I had never won\nThat graceless grace by which I was undone.\nCHORUS (antistrophe 2)\nAnd next, unhappy man, thou hast shed blood?\nOEDIPUS Must ye hear more?\nCHORUS A father's?\nOEDIPUS Flood on flood\nWhelms me; that word's a second mortal blow.\nCHORUS Murderer!\nOEDIPUS Yes, a murderer, but know--\nCHORUS What canst thou plead?\nOEDIPUS A plea of justice.\nCHORUS How?\nOEDIPUS I slew who else would me have slain;\nI slew without intent,\nA wretch, but innocent\nIn the law's eye, I stand, without a stain.\nCHORUS Behold our sovereign, Theseus, Aegeus' son,\nComes at thy summons to perform his part. (Enter THESEUS)\nTHESEUS Oft had I heard of thee in times gone by--\nThe bloody mutilation of thine eyes--\nAnd therefore know thee, son of Laius.\nAll that I lately gathered on the way\nMade my conjecture doubly sure; and now\nThy garb and that marred visage prove to me\nThat thou art he. So pitying thine estate,\nMost ill-starred Oedipus, I fain would know\nWhat is the suit ye urge on me and Athens,\nThou and the helpless maiden at thy side.\nDeclare it; dire indeed must be the tale\nWhereat I should recoil. I too was reared,\nLike thee, in exile, and in foreign lands\nWrestled with many perils, no man more.\nWherefore no alien in adversity\nShall seek in vain my succor, nor shalt thou;\nI know myself a mortal, and my share\nIn what the morrow brings no more than thine.\nOEDIPUS Theseus, thy words so apt, so generous\nSo comfortable, need no long reply\nBoth who I am and of what lineage sprung,\nAnd from what land I came, thou hast declared.\nSo without prologue I may utter now\nMy brief petition, and the tale is told.\nTHESEUS Say on, and tell me what I fain would learn.\nOEDIPUS I come to offer thee this woe-worn frame,\nA gift not fair to look on; yet its worth\nMore precious far than any outward show.\nTHESEUS What profit dost thou proffer to have brought?\nOEDIPUS Hereafter thou shalt learn, not yet, methinks.\nTHESEUS When may we hope to reap the benefit?\nOEDIPUS When I am dead and thou hast buried me.\nTHESEUS Thou cravest life's last service; all before--\nIs it forgotten or of no account?\nOEDIPUS Yea, the last boon is warrant for the rest.\nTHESEUS The grace thou cravest then is small indeed.\nOEDIPUS Nay, weigh it well; the issue is not slight.\nTHESEUS Thou meanest that betwixt thy sons and me?\nOEDIPUS Prince, they would fain convey me back to Thebes.\nTHESEUS If there be no compulsion, then methinks\nTo rest in banishment befits not thee.\nOEDIPUS Nay, when I wished it they would not consent.\nTHESEUS For shame! such temper misbecomes the faller.\nOEDIPUS Chide if thou wilt, but first attend my plea.\nTHESEUS Say on, I wait full knowledge ere I judge.\nOEDIPUS O Theseus, I have suffered wrongs on wrongs.\nTHESEUS Wouldst tell the old misfortune of thy race?\nOEDIPUS No, that has grown a byword throughout Greece.\nTHESEUS What then can be this more than mortal grief?\nOEDIPUS My case stands thus; by my own flesh and blood\nI was expelled my country, and can ne'er\nThither return again, a parricide.\nTHESEUS Why fetch thee home if thou must needs obey.\nTHESEUS What are they threatened by the oracle?\nOEDIPUS Destruction that awaits them in this land.\nTHESEUS What can beget ill blood 'twixt them and me?\nOEDIPUS Dear son of Aegeus, to the gods alone\nIs given immunity from eld and death;\nBut nothing else escapes all-ruinous time.\nEarth's might decays, the might of men decays,\nHonor grows cold, dishonor flourishes,\nThere is no constancy 'twixt friend and friend,\nOr city and city; be it soon or late,\nSweet turns to bitter, hate once more to love.\nIf now 'tis sunshine betwixt Thebes and thee\nAnd not a cloud, Time in his endless course\nGives birth to endless days and nights, wherein\nThe merest nothing shall suffice to cut\nWith serried spears your bonds of amity.\nThen shall my slumbering and buried corpse\nIn its cold grave drink their warm life-blood up,\nIf Zeus be Zeus and Phoebus still speak true.\nNo more: 'tis ill to tear aside the veil\nOf mysteries; let me cease as I began:\nEnough if thou wilt keep thy plighted troth,\nThen shall thou ne'er complain that Oedipus\nProved an unprofitable and thankless guest,\nExcept the gods themselves shall play me false.\nCHORUS The man, my lord, has from the very first\nDeclared his power to offer to our land\nThese and like benefits.\nTHESEUS Who could reject\nThe proffered amity of such a friend?\nFirst, he can claim the hospitality\nTo which by mutual contract we stand pledged:\nNext, coming here, a suppliant to the gods,\nHe pays full tribute to the State and me;\nHis favors therefore never will I spurn,\nBut grant him the full rights of citizen;\nAnd, if it suits the stranger here to bide,\nI place him in your charge, or if he please\nRather to come with me--choose, Oedipus,\nWhich of the two thou wilt. Thy choice is mine.\nOEDIPUS Zeus, may the blessing fall on men like these!\nTHESEUS What dost thou then decide--to come with me?\nOEDIPUS Yea, were it lawful--but 'tis rather here--\nTHESEUS What wouldst thou here? I shall not thwart thy wish.\nOEDIPUS Here shall I vanquish those who cast me forth.\nTHESEUS Then were thy presence here a boon indeed.\nOEDIPUS Such shall it prove, if thou fulfill'st thy pledge.\nTHESEUS Fear not for me; I shall not play thee false.\nOEDIPUS No need to back thy promise with an oath.\nTHESEUS An oath would be no surer than my word.\nOEDIPUS How wilt thou act then?\nTHESEUS What is it thou fear'st?\nOEDIPUS My foes will come--\nTHESEUS Our friends will look to that.\nOEDIPUS But if thou leave me?\nTHESEUS Teach me not my duty.\nOEDIPUS 'Tis fear constrains me.\nTHESEUS My soul knows no fear!\nOEDIPUS Thou knowest not what threats--\nTHESEUS I know that none\nShall hale thee hence in my despite. Such threats\nVented in anger oft, are blusterers,\nAn idle breath, forgot when sense returns.\nAnd for thy foemen, though their words were brave,\nBoasting to bring thee back, they are like to find\nThe seas between us wide and hard to sail.\nSuch my firm purpose, but in any case\nTake heart, since Phoebus sent thee here. My name,\nThough I be distant, warrants thee from harm.\nCHORUS (strophe 1)\nThou hast come to a steed-famed land for rest,\nO stranger worn with toil,\nTo a land of all lands the goodliest\nColonus' glistening soil.\n'Tis the haunt of the clear-voiced nightingale,\nWho hid in her bower, among\nThe wine-dark ivy that wreathes the vale,\nTrilleth her ceaseless song;\nAnd she loves, where the clustering berries nod\nO'er a sunless, windless glade,\nThe spot by no mortal footstep trod,\nThe pleasance kept for the Bacchic god,\nWhere he holds each night his revels wild\nWith the nymphs who fostered the lusty child.\n(antistrophe 1)\nAnd fed each morn by the pearly dew\nThe starred narcissi shine,\nAnd a wreath with the crocus' golden hue\nFor the Mother and Daughter twine.\nAnd never the sleepless fountains cease\nThat feed Cephisus' stream,\nBut they swell earth's bosom with quick increase,\nAnd their wave hath a crystal gleam.\nAnd the Muses' quire will never disdain\nTo visit this heaven-favored plain,\nNor the Cyprian queen of the golden rein.\n(strophe 2)\nAnd here there grows, unpruned, untamed,\nTerror to foemen's spear,\nA tree in Asian soil unnamed,\nBy Pelops' Dorian isle unclaimed,\nSelf-nurtured year by year;\n'Tis the grey-leaved olive that feeds our boys;\nNor youth nor withering age destroys\nThe plant that the Olive Planter tends\nAnd the Grey-eyed Goddess herself defends.\n(antistrophe 2)\nYet another gift, of all gifts the most\nPrized by our fatherland, we boast--\nThe might of the horse, the might of the sea;\nOur fame, Poseidon, we owe to thee,\nSon of Kronos, our king divine,\nWho in these highways first didst fit\nFor the mouth of horses the iron bit;\nThou too hast taught us to fashion meet\nFor the arm of the rower the oar-blade fleet,\nSwift as the Nereids' hundred feet\nAs they dance along the brine.\nANTIGONE Oh land extolled above all lands, 'tis now\nFor thee to make these glorious titles good.\nOEDIPUS Why this appeal, my daughter?\nANTIGONE Father, lo! Creon approaches with his company.\nOEDIPUS Fear not, it shall be so; if we are old,\nThis country's vigor has no touch of age. (Enter CREON with attendants)\nCREON Burghers, my noble friends, ye take alarm\nAt my approach (I read it in your eyes),\nFear nothing and refrain from angry words.\nI come with no ill purpose; I am old,\nAnd know the city whither I am come,\nWithout a peer amongst the powers of Greece.\nIt was by reason of my years that I\nWas chosen to persuade your guest and bring\nHim back to Thebes; not the delegate\nOf one man, but commissioned by the State,\nSince of all Thebans I have most bewailed,\nBeing his kinsman, his most grievous woes.\nO listen to me, luckless Oedipus,\nCome home! The whole Cadmeian people claim\nWith right to have thee back, I most of all,\nFor most of all (else were I vile indeed)\nI mourn for thy misfortunes, seeing thee\nAn aged outcast, wandering on and on,\nA beggar with one handmaid for thy stay.\nAh! who had e'er imagined she could fall\nTo such a depth of misery as this,\nTo tend in penury thy stricken frame,\nA virgin ripe for wedlock, but unwed,\nA prey for any wanton ravisher?\nSeems it not cruel this reproach I cast\nOn thee and on myself and all the race?\nAye, but an open shame cannot be hid.\nHide it, O hide it, Oedipus, thou canst.\nO, by our fathers' gods, consent I pray;\nCome back to Thebes, come to thy father's home,\nBid Athens, as is meet, a fond farewell;\nThebes thy old foster-mother claims thee first.\nOEDIPUS O front of brass, thy subtle tongue would twist\nTo thy advantage every plea of right\nWhy try thy arts on me, why spread again\nToils where 'twould gall me sorest to be snared?\nIn old days when by self-wrought woes distraught,\nI yearned for exile as a glad release,\nThy will refused the favor then I craved.\nBut when my frenzied grief had spent its force,\nAnd I was fain to taste the sweets of home,\nThen thou wouldst thrust me from my country, then\nThese ties of kindred were by thee ignored;\nAnd now again when thou behold'st this State\nAnd all its kindly people welcome me,\nThou seek'st to part us, wrapping in soft words\nHard thoughts. And yet what pleasure canst thou find\nIn forcing friendship on unwilling foes?\nSuppose a man refused to grant some boon\nWhen you importuned him, and afterwards\nWhen you had got your heart's desire, consented,\nGranting a grace from which all grace had fled,\nWould not such favor seem an empty boon?\nYet such the boon thou profferest now to me,\nFair in appearance, but when tested false.\nYea, I will proved thee false, that these may hear;\nThou art come to take me, not to take me home,\nBut plant me on thy borders, that thy State\nMay so escape annoyance from this land.\nThat thou shalt never gain, but this instead--\nMy ghost to haunt thy country without end;\nAnd for my sons, this heritage--no more--\nJust room to die in. Have not I more skill\nThan thou to draw the horoscope of Thebes?\nAre not my teachers surer guides than thine--\nGreat Phoebus and the sire of Phoebus, Zeus?\nThou art a messenger suborned, thy tongue\nIs sharper than a sword's edge, yet thy speech\nWill bring thee more defeats than victories.\nHowbeit, I know I waste my words--begone,\nAnd leave me here; whate'er may be my lot,\nHe lives not ill who lives withal content.\nCREON Which loses in this parley, I o'erthrown\nBy thee, or thou who overthrow'st thyself?\nOEDIPUS I shall be well contented if thy suit\nFails with these strangers, as it has with me.\nCREON Unhappy man, will years ne'er make thee wise?\nMust thou live on to cast a slur on age?\nOEDIPUS Thou hast a glib tongue, but no honest man,\nMethinks, can argue well on any side.\nCREON 'Tis one thing to speak much, another well.\nOEDIPUS Thy words, forsooth, are few and all well aimed!\nCREON Not for a man indeed with wits like thine.\nOEDIPUS Depart! I bid thee in these burghers' name,\nAnd prowl no longer round me to blockade\nMy destined harbor.\nCREON I protest to these,\nNot thee, and for thine answer to thy kin,\nIf e'er I take thee--\nOEDIPUS Who against their will Could take me?\nCREON Though untaken thou shalt smart.\nOEDIPUS What power hast thou to execute this threat?\nCREON One of thy daughters is already seized,\nThe other I will carry off anon.\nOEDIPUS Woe, woe!\nCREON This is but prelude to thy woes.\nOEDIPUS Hast thou my child?\nCREON And soon shall have the other.\nOEDIPUS Ho, friends! ye will not surely play me false?\nChase this ungodly villain from your land.\nCHORUS Hence, stranger, hence avaunt! Thou doest wrong\nIn this, and wrong in all that thou hast done.\nCREON (to his guards) 'Tis time by force to carry off the girl,\nIf she refuse of her free will to go.\nANTIGONE Ah, woe is me! where shall I fly, where find\nSuccor from gods or men?\nCHORUS What would'st thou, stranger?\nCREON I meddle not with him, but her who is mine.\nOEDIPUS O princes of the land!\nCHORUS Sir, thou dost wrong.\nCREON Nay, right.\nCHORUS How right?\nCREON I take but what is mine.\nOEDIPUS Help, Athens!\nCHORUS What means this, sirrah? quick unhand her, or\nWe'll fight it out.\nCREON Back!\nCHORUS Not till thou forbear.\nCREON 'Tis war with Thebes if I am touched or harmed.\nOEDIPUS Did I not warn thee?\nCHORUS Quick, unhand the maid!\nCREON Command your minions; I am not your slave.\nCHORUS Desist, I bid thee.\nCREON (to the guard) And O bid thee march!\nCHORUS To the rescue, one and all!\nRally, neighbors to my call!\nSee, the foe is at the gate!\nRally to defend the State.\nANTIGONE Ah, woe is me, they drag me hence, O friends.\nOEDIPUS Where art thou, daughter?\nANTIGONE Haled along by force.\nOEDIPUS Thy hands, my child!\nANTIGONE They will not let me, father.\nCREON Away with her!\nOEDIPUS Ah, woe is me, ah woe!\nCREON So those two crutches shall no longer serve thee\nFor further roaming. Since it pleaseth thee\nTo triumph o'er thy country and thy friends\nWho mandate, though a prince, I here discharge,\nEnjoy thy triumph; soon or late thou'lt find\nThou art an enemy to thyself, both now\nAnd in time past, when in despite of friends\nThou gav'st the rein to passion, still thy bane.\nCHORUS Hold there, sir stranger!\nCREON Hands off, have a care.\nCHORUS Restore the maidens, else thou goest not.\nCREON Then Thebes will take a dearer surety soon;\nI will lay hands on more than these two maids.\nCHORUS What canst thou further?\nCREON Carry off this man.\nCHORUS Brave words!\nCREON And deeds forthwith shall make them good.\nCHORUS Unless perchance our sovereign intervene.\nOEDIPUS O shameless voice! Would'st lay an hand on me?\nCREON Silence, I bid thee!\nOEDIPUS Goddesses, allow\nThy suppliant to utter yet one curse!\nWretch, now my eyes are gone thou hast torn away\nThe helpless maiden who was eyes to me;\nFor these to thee and all thy cursed race\nMay the great Sun, whose eye is everywhere,\nGrant length of days and old age like to mine.\nCREON Listen, O men of Athens, mark ye this?\nOEDIPUS They mark us both and understand that I\nWronged by the deeds defend myself with words.\nCREON Nothing shall curb my will; though I be old\nAnd single-handed, I will have this man.\nOEDIPUS O woe is me!\nCHORUS Thou art a bold man, stranger, if thou think'st\nTo execute thy purpose.\nCREON So I do.\nCHORUS Then shall I deem this State no more a State.\nCREON With a just quarrel weakness conquers might.\nOEDIPUS Ye hear his words?\nCHORUS Aye words, but not yet deeds,\nZeus knoweth!\nCREON Zeus may haply know, not thou.\nCHORUS Insolence!\nCREON Insolence that thou must bear.\nCHORUS Haste ye princes, sound the alarm!\nMen of Athens, arm ye, arm!\nQuickly to the rescue come\nEre the robbers get them home. (Enter THESEUS)\nTHESEUS Why this outcry? What is forward? wherefore was I called\naway\nFrom the altar of Poseidon, lord of your Colonus? Say!\nOn what errand have I hurried hither without stop or stay.\nOEDIPUS Dear friend--those accents tell me who thou art--\nYon man but now hath done me a foul wrong.\nTHESEUS What is this wrong and who hath wrought it? Speak.\nOEDIPUS Creon who stands before thee. He it is\nHath robbed me of my all, my daughters twain.\nTHESEUS What means this?\nOEDIPUS Thou hast heard my tale of wrongs.\nTHESEUS Ho! hasten to the altars, one of you.\nCommand my liegemen leave the sacrifice\nAnd hurry, foot and horse, with rein unchecked,\nTo where the paths that packmen use diverge,\nLest the two maidens slip away, and I\nBecome a mockery to this my guest,\nAs one despoiled by force. Quick, as I bid.\nAs for this stranger, had I let my rage,\nJustly provoked, have play, he had not 'scaped\nScathless and uncorrected at my hands.\nBut now the laws to which himself appealed,\nThese and none others shall adjudicate.\nThou shalt not quit this land, till thou hast fetched\nThe maidens and produced them in my sight.\nThou hast offended both against myself\nAnd thine own race and country. Having come\nUnto a State that champions right and asks\nFor every action warranty of law,\nThou hast set aside the custom of the land,\nAnd like some freebooter art carrying off\nWhat plunder pleases thee, as if forsooth\nThou thoughtest this a city without men,\nOr manned by slaves, and me a thing of naught.\nYet not from Thebes this villainy was learnt;\nThebes is not wont to breed unrighteous sons,\nNor would she praise thee, if she learnt that thou\nWert robbing me--aye and the gods to boot,\nHaling by force their suppliants, poor maids.\nWere I on Theban soil, to prosecute\nThe justest claim imaginable, I\nWould never wrest by violence my own\nWithout sanction of your State or King;\nI should behave as fits an outlander\nLiving amongst a foreign folk, but thou\nShamest a city that deserves it not,\nEven thine own, and plentitude of years\nHave made of thee an old man and a fool.\nTherefore again I charge thee as before,\nSee that the maidens are restored at once,\nUnless thou would'st continue here by force\nAnd not by choice a sojourner; so much\nI tell thee home and what I say, I mean.\nCHORUS Thy case is perilous; though by birth and race\nThou should'st be just, thou plainly doest wrong.\nCREON Not deeming this city void of men\nOr counsel, son of Aegeus, as thou say'st\nI did what I have done; rather I thought\nYour people were not like to set such store by kin of mine and keep\nthem 'gainst my will.\nNor would they harbor, so I stood assured,\nA godless parricide, a reprobate\nConvicted of incestuous marriage ties.\nFor on her native hill of Ares here\n(I knew your far-famed Areopagus)\nSits Justice, and permits not vagrant folk\nTo stay within your borders. In that faith\nI hunted down my quarry; and e'en then i had refrained but for the\ncurses dire\nWherewith he banned my kinsfolk and myself:\nSuch wrong, methought, had warrant for my act.\nAnger has no old age but only death;\nThe dead alone can feel no touch of spite.\nSo thou must work thy will; my cause is just\nBut weak without allies; yet will I try,\nOld as I am, to answer deeds with deeds.\nOEDIPUS O shameless railer, think'st thou this abuse\nDefames my grey hairs rather than thine own?\nMurder and incest, deeds of horror, all\nThou blurtest forth against me, all I have borne,\nNo willing sinner; so it pleased the gods\nWrath haply with my sinful race of old,\nSince thou could'st find no sin in me myself\nFor which in retribution I was doomed\nTo trespass thus against myself and mine.\nAnswer me now, if by some oracle\nMy sire was destined to a bloody end\nBy a son's hand, can this reflect on me,\nMe then unborn, begotten by no sire,\nConceived in no mother's womb? And if\nWhen born to misery, as born I was,\nI met my sire, not knowing whom I met or what I did, and slew him,\nhow canst thou\nWith justice blame the all-unconscious hand?\nAnd for my mother, wretch, art not ashamed,\nSeeing she was thy sister, to extort\nFrom me the story of her marriage, such\nA marriage as I straightway will proclaim.\nFor I will speak; thy lewd and impious speech\nHas broken all the bonds of reticence.\nShe was, ah woe is me! she was my mother;\nI knew it not, nor she; and she my mother\nBare children to the son whom she had borne,\nA birth of shame. But this at least I know\nWittingly thou aspersest her and me;\nBut I unwitting wed, unwilling speak.\nNay neither in this marriage or this deed\nWhich thou art ever casting in my teeth--\nA murdered sire--shall I be held to blame.\nCome, answer me one question, if thou canst:\nIf one should presently attempt thy life,\nWould'st thou, O man of justice, first inquire\nIf the assassin was perchance thy sire,\nOr turn upon him? As thou lov'st thy life,\nOn thy aggressor thou would'st turn, no stay\nDebating, if the law would bear thee out.\nSuch was my case, and such the pass whereto\nThe gods reduced me; and methinks my sire,\nCould he come back to life, would not dissent.\nYet thou, for just thou art not, but a man\nWho sticks at nothing, if it serve his plea,\nReproachest me with this before these men.\nIt serves thy turn to laud great Theseus' name,\nAnd Athens as a wisely governed State;\nYet in thy flatteries one thing is to seek:\nIf any land knows how to pay the gods\nTheir proper rites, 'tis Athens most of all.\nThis is the land whence thou wast fain to steal\nTheir aged suppliant and hast carried off\nMy daughters. Therefore to yon goddesses,\nI turn, adjure them and invoke their aid\nTo champion my cause, that thou mayest learn\nWhat is the breed of men who guard this State.\nCHORUS An honest man, my liege, one sore bestead\nBy fortune, and so worthy our support.\nTHESEUS Enough of words; the captors speed amain,\nWhile we the victims stand debating here.\nCREON What would'st thou? What can I, a feeble man?\nTHESEUS Show us the trail, and I'll attend thee too,\nThat, if thou hast the maidens hereabouts,\nThou mayest thyself discover them to me;\nBut if thy guards outstrip us with their spoil,\nWe may draw rein; for others speed, from whom\nThey will not 'scape to thank the gods at home.\nLead on, I say, the captor's caught, and fate\nHath ta'en the fowler in the toils he spread;\nSo soon are lost gains gotten by deceit.\nAnd look not for allies; I know indeed\nSuch height of insolence was never reached\nWithout abettors or accomplices;\nThou hast some backer in thy bold essay,\nBut I will search this matter home and see\nOne man doth not prevail against the State.\nDost take my drift, or seem these words as vain\nAs seemed our warnings when the plot was hatched?\nCREON Nothing thou sayest can I here dispute,\nBut once at home I too shall act my part.\nTHESEUS Threaten us and--begone! Thou, Oedipus,\nStay here assured that nothing save my death\nWill stay my purpose to restore the maids.\nOEDIPUS Heaven bless thee, Theseus, for thy nobleness\nAnd all thy loving care in my behalf. (Exeunt THESEUS and CREON)\nCHORUS (strophe 1)\nO when the flying foe,\nTurning at last to bay,\nSoon will give blow for blow,\nMight I behold the fray;\nHear the loud battle roar\nSwell, on the Pythian shore,\nOr by the torch-lit bay,\nWhere the dread Queen and Maid\nCherish the mystic rites,\nRites they to none betray,\nEre on his lips is laid\nSecrecy's golden key\nBy their own acolytes,\nPriestly Eumolpidae.\nThere I might chance behold\nTheseus our captain bold\nMeet with the robber band,\nEre they have fled the land,\nRescue by might and main\nMaidens, the captives twain.\n(antistrophe 1)\nHaply on swiftest steed,\nOr in the flying car,\nNow they approach the glen,\nWest of white Oea's scaur.\nThey will be vanquished:\nDread are our warriors, dread\nTheseus our chieftain's men.\nFlashes each bridle bright,\nCharges each gallant knight,\nAll that our Queen adore,\nPallas their patron, or\nHim whose wide floods enring\nEarth, the great Ocean-king\nWhom Rhea bore.\n(strophe 2)\nFight they or now prepare\nTo fight? a vision rare\nTells me that soon again\nI shall behold the twain\nMaidens so ill bestead,\nBy their kin buffeted.\nToday, today Zeus worketh some great thing\nThis day shall victory bring.\nO for the wings, the wings of a dove,\nTo be borne with the speed of the gale,\nUp and still upwards to sail\nAnd gaze on the fray from the clouds above.\n(antistrophe 2)\nAll-seeing Zeus, O lord of heaven,\nTo our guardian host be given\nMight triumphant to surprise\nFlying foes and win their prize.\nHear us, Zeus, and hear us, child\nOf Zeus, Athene undefiled,\nHear, Apollo, hunter, hear,\nHuntress, sister of Apollo,\nWho the dappled swift-foot deer\nO'er the wooded glade dost follow;\nHelp with your two-fold power\nAthens in danger's hour!\nO wayfarer, thou wilt not have to tax\nThe friends who watch for thee with false presage,\nFor lo, an escort with the maids draws near. (Enter ANTIGONE and\nISMENE with THESEUS)\nOEDIPUS Where, where? what sayest thou?\nANTIGONE O father, father,\nWould that some god might grant thee eyes to see\nThis best of men who brings us back again.\nOEDIPUS My child! and are ye back indeed!\nANTIGONE Yes, saved By Theseus and his gallant followers.\nOEDIPUS Come to your father's arms, O let me feel\nA child's embrace I never hoped for more.\nANTIGONE Thou askest what is doubly sweet to give.\nOEDIPUS Where are ye then?\nANTIGONE We come together both.\nOEDIPUS My precious nurslings!\nANTIGONE Fathers aye were fond.\nOEDIPUS Props of my age!\nANTIGONE So sorrow sorrow props.\nOEDIPUS I have my darlings, and if death should come,\nDeath were not wholly bitter with you near.\nCling to me, press me close on either side,\nThere rest ye from your dreary wayfaring.\nNow tell me of your ventures, but in brief;\nBrief speech suffices for young maids like you.\nANTIGONE Here is our savior; thou should'st hear the tale\nFrom his own lips; so shall my part be brief.\nOEDIPUS I pray thee do not wonder if the sight\nOf children, given o'er for lost, has made\nMy converse somewhat long and tedious.\nFull well I know the joy I have of them\nIs due to thee, to thee and no man else;\nThou wast their sole deliverer, none else.\nThe gods deal with thee after my desire,\nWith thee and with this land! for fear of heaven\nI found above all peoples most with you,\nAnd righteousness and lips that cannot lie.\nI speak in gratitude of what I know,\nFor all I have I owe to thee alone.\nGive me thy hand, O Prince, that I may touch it,\nAnd if thou wilt permit me, kiss thy cheek.\nWhat say I? Can I wish that thou should'st touch\nOne fallen like me to utter wretchedness,\nCorrupt and tainted with a thousand ills?\nOh no, I would not let thee if thou would'st.\nThey only who have known calamity\nCan share it. Let me greet thee where thou art,\nAnd still befriend me as thou hast till now.\nTHESEUS I marvel not if thou hast dallied long\nIn converse with thy children and preferred\nTheir speech to mine; I feel no jealousy,\nI would be famous more by deeds than words.\nOf this, old friend, thou hast had proof; my oath\nI have fulfilled and brought thee back the maids\nAlive and nothing harmed for all those threats.\nAnd how the fight was won, 'twere waste of words\nTo boast--thy daughters here will tell thee all.\nBut of a matter that has lately chanced\nOn my way hitherward, I fain would have\nThy counsel--slight 'twould seem, yet worthy thought.\nA wise man heeds all matters great or small.\nOEDIPUS What is it, son of Aegeus? Let me hear.\nOf what thou askest I myself know naught.\nTHESEUS 'Tis said a man, no countryman of thine,\nBut of thy kin, hath taken sanctuary\nBeside the altar of Poseidon, where\nI was at sacrifice when called away.\nOEDIPUS What is his country? what the suitor's prayer?\nTHESEUS I know but one thing; he implores, I am told,\nA word with thee--he will not trouble thee.\nOEDIPUS What seeks he? If a suppliant, something grave.\nTHESEUS He only waits, they say, to speak with thee,\nAnd then unharmed to go upon his way.\nOEDIPUS I marvel who is this petitioner.\nTHESEUS Think if there be not any of thy kin\nAt Argos who might claim this boon of thee.\nOEDIPUS Dear friend, forbear, I pray.\nTHESEUS What ails thee now?\nOEDIPUS Ask it not of me.\nTHESEUS Ask not what? explain.\nOEDIPUS Thy words have told me who the suppliant is.\nTHESEUS Who can he be that I should frown on him?\nOEDIPUS My son, O king, my hateful son, whose words\nOf all men's most would jar upon my ears.\nTHESEUS Thou sure mightest listen. If his suit offend,\nNo need to grant it. Why so loth to hear him?\nOEDIPUS That voice, O king, grates on a father's ears;\nI have come to loathe it. Force me not to yield.\nTHESEUS But he hath found asylum. O beware,\nAnd fail not in due reverence to the god.\nANTIGONE O heed me, father, though I am young in years.\nLet the prince have his will and pay withal\nWhat in his eyes is service to the god;\nFor our sake also let our brother come.\nIf what he urges tend not to thy good\nHe cannot surely wrest perforce thy will.\nTo hear him then, what harm? By open words\nA scheme of villainy is soon bewrayed.\nThou art his father, therefore canst not pay\nIn kind a son's most impious outrages.\nO listen to him; other men like thee\nHave thankless children and are choleric,\nBut yielding to persuasion's gentle spell\nThey let their savage mood be exorcised.\nLook thou to the past, forget the present, think\nOn all the woe thy sire and mother brought thee;\nThence wilt thou draw this lesson without fail,\nOf evil passion evil is the end.\nThou hast, alas, to prick thy memory,\nStern monitors, these ever-sightless orbs.\nO yield to us; just suitors should not need\nTo be importunate, nor he that takes\nA favor lack the grace to make return.\nOEDIPUS Grievous to me, my child, the boon ye win\nBy pleading. Let it be then; have your way\nOnly if come he must, I beg thee, friend,\nLet none have power to dispose of me.\nTHESEUS No need, Sir, to appeal a second time.\nIt likes me not to boast, but be assured\nThy life is safe while any god saves mine. (Exit THESEUS)\nCHORUS (strophe)\nWho craves excess of days,\nScorning the common span\nOf life, I judge that man\nA giddy wight who walks in folly's ways.\nFor the long years heap up a grievous load,\nScant pleasures, heavier pains,\nTill not one joy remains\nFor him who lingers on life's weary road\nAnd come it slow or fast,\nOne doom of fate\nDoth all await,\nFor dance and marriage bell,\nThe dirge and funeral knell.\nDeath the deliverer freeth all at last.\n(antistrophe)\nNot to be born at all\nIs best, far best that can befall,\nNext best, when born, with least delay\nTo trace the backward way.\nFor when youth passes with its giddy train,\nTroubles on troubles follow, toils on toils,\nPain, pain for ever pain;\nAnd none escapes life's coils.\nEnvy, sedition, strife,\nCarnage and war, make up the tale of life.\nLast comes the worst and most abhorred stage\nOf unregarded age,\nJoyless, companionless and slow,\nOf woes the crowning woe.\n(epode)\nSuch ills not I alone,\nHe too our guest hath known,\nE'en as some headland on an iron-bound shore,\nLashed by the wintry blasts and surge's roar,\nSo is he buffeted on every side\nBy drear misfortune's whelming tide,\nBy every wind of heaven o'erborne\nSome from the sunset, some from orient morn,\nSome from the noonday glow.\nSome from Rhipean gloom of everlasting snow.\nANTIGONE Father, methinks I see the stranger coming, Alone he comes\nand weeping plenteous tears.\nOEDIPUS Who may he be?\nANTIGONE The same that we surmised.\nFrom the outset--Polyneices. He is here. (Enter POLYNEICES)\nPOLYNEICES Ah me, my sisters, shall I first lament\nMy own afflictions, or my aged sire's,\nWhom here I find a castaway, with you,\nIn a strange land, an ancient beggar clad\nIn antic tatters, marring all his frame,\nWhile o'er the sightless orbs his unkept locks\nFloat in the breeze; and, as it were to match,\nHe bears a wallet against hunger's pinch.\nAll this too late I learn, wretch that I am,\nAlas! I own it, and am proved most vile\nIn my neglect of thee: I scorn myself.\nBut as almighty Zeus in all he doth\nHath Mercy for co-partner of this throne,\nLet Mercy, father, also sit enthroned\nIn thy heart likewise. For transgressions past\nMay be amended, cannot be made worse.\nWhy silent? Father, speak, nor turn away,\nHast thou no word, wilt thou dismiss me then\nIn mute disdain, nor tell me why thou art wrath?\nO ye his daughters, sisters mine, do ye\nThis sullen, obstinate silence try to move.\nLet him not spurn, without a single word\nOf answer, me the suppliant of the god.\nANTIGONE Tell him thyself, unhappy one, thine errand;\nFor large discourse may send a thrill of joy,\nOr stir a chord of wrath or tenderness,\nAnd to the tongue-tied somehow give a tongue.\nPOLYNEICES Well dost thou counsel, and I will speak out.\nFirst will I call in aid the god himself,\nPoseidon, from whose altar I was raised,\nWith warrant from the monarch of this land,\nTo parley with you, and depart unscathed.\nThese pledges, strangers, I would see observed\nBy you and by my sisters and my sire.\nNow, father, let me tell thee why I came.\nI have been banished from my native land\nBecause by right of primogeniture\nI claimed possession of thy sovereign throne\nWherefrom Etocles, my younger brother,\nOusted me, not by weight of precedent,\nNor by the last arbitrament of war,\nBut by his popular acts; and the prime cause\nOf this I deem the curse that rests on thee.\nSo likewise hold the soothsayers, for when\nI came to Argos in the Dorian land\nAnd took the king Adrastus' child to wife,\nUnder my standard I enlisted all\nThe foremost captains of the Apian isle,\nTo levy with their aid that sevenfold host\nOf spearmen against Thebes, determining\nTo oust my foes or die in a just cause.\nWhy then, thou askest, am I here today?\nFather, I come a suppliant to thee\nBoth for myself and my allies who now\nWith squadrons seven beneath their seven spears\nBeleaguer all the plain that circles Thebes.\nForemost the peerless warrior, peerless seer,\nAmphiaraiis with his lightning lance;\nNext an Aetolian, Tydeus, Oeneus' son;\nEteoclus of Argive birth the third;\nThe fourth Hippomedon, sent to the war\nBy his sire Talaos; Capaneus, the fifth,\nVaunts he will fire and raze the town; the sixth\nParthenopaeus, an Arcadian born\nNamed of that maid, longtime a maid and late\nEspoused, Atalanta's true-born child;\nLast I thy son, or thine at least in name,\nIf but the bastard of an evil fate,\nLead against Thebes the fearless Argive host.\nThus by thy children and thy life, my sire,\nWe all adjure thee to remit thy wrath\nAnd favor one who seeks a just revenge\nAgainst a brother who has banned and robbed him.\nFor victory, if oracles speak true,\nWill fall to those who have thee for ally.\nSo, by our fountains and familiar gods\nI pray thee, yield and hear; a beggar I\nAnd exile, thou an exile likewise; both\nInvolved in one misfortune find a home\nAs pensioners, while he, the lord of Thebes,\nO agony! makes a mock of thee and me.\nI'll scatter with a breath the upstart's might,\nAnd bring thee home again and stablish thee,\nAnd stablish, having cast him out, myself.\nThis will thy goodwill I will undertake,\nWithout it I can scare return alive.\nCHORUS For the king's sake who sent him, Oedipus,\nDismiss him not without a meet reply.\nOEDIPUS Nay, worthy seniors, but for Theseus' sake\nWho sent him hither to have word of me.\nNever again would he have heard my voice;\nBut now he shall obtain this parting grace,\nAn answer that will bring him little joy.\nO villain, when thou hadst the sovereignty\nThat now thy brother holdeth in thy stead,\nDidst thou not drive me, thine own father, out,\nAn exile, cityless, and make we wear\nThis beggar's garb thou weepest to behold,\nNow thou art come thyself to my sad plight?\nNothing is here for tears; it must be borne\nBy me till death, and I shall think of thee\nAs of my murderer; thou didst thrust me out;\n'Tis thou hast made me conversant with woe,\nThrough thee I beg my bread in a strange land;\nAnd had not these my daughters tended me\nI had been dead for aught of aid from thee.\nThey tend me, they preserve me, they are men\nNot women in true service to their sire;\nBut ye are bastards, and no sons of mine.\nTherefore just Heaven hath an eye on thee;\nHowbeit not yet with aspect so austere\nAs thou shalt soon experience, if indeed\nThese banded hosts are moving against Thebes.\nThat city thou canst never storm, but first\nShall fall, thou and thy brother, blood-imbrued.\nSuch curse I lately launched against you twain,\nSuch curse I now invoke to fight for me,\nThat ye may learn to honor those who bear thee\nNor flout a sightless father who begat\nDegenerate sons--these maidens did not so.\nTherefore my curse is stronger than thy \"throne,\"\nThy \"suppliance,\" if by right of laws eterne\nPrimeval Justice sits enthroned with Zeus.\nBegone, abhorred, disowned, no son of mine,\nThou vilest of the vile! and take with thee\nThis curse I leave thee as my last bequest:--\nNever to win by arms thy native land,\nNo, nor return to Argos in the Vale,\nBut by a kinsman's hand to die and slay\nHim who expelled thee. So I pray and call\nOn the ancestral gloom of Tartarus\nTo snatch thee hence, on these dread goddesses\nI call, and Ares who incensed you both\nTo mortal enmity. Go now proclaim\nWhat thou hast heard to the Cadmeians all,\nThy staunch confederates--this the heritage that Oedipus divideth\nto his sons.\nCHORUS Thy errand, Polyneices, liked me not\nFrom the beginning; now go back with speed.\nPOLYNEICES Woe worth my journey and my baffled hopes!\nWoe worth my comrades! What a desperate end\nTo that glad march from Argos! Woe is me!\nI dare not whisper it to my allies\nOr turn them back, but mute must meet my doom.\nMy sisters, ye his daughters, ye have heard\nThe prayers of our stern father, if his curse\nShould come to pass and ye some day return\nTo Thebes, O then disown me not, I pray,\nBut grant me burial and due funeral rites.\nSo shall the praise your filial care now wins\nBe doubled for the service wrought for me.\nANTIGONE One boon, O Polyneices, let me crave.\nPOLYNEICES What would'st thou, sweet Antigone? Say on.\nANTIGONE Turn back thy host to Argos with all speed,\nAnd ruin not thyself and Thebes as well.\nPOLYNEICES That cannot be. How could I lead again\nAn army that had seen their leader quail?\nANTIGONE But, brother, why shouldst thou be wroth again?\nWhat profit from thy country's ruin comes?\nPOLYNEICES 'Tis shame to live in exile, and shall I\nThe elder bear a younger brother's flouts?\nANTIGONE Wilt thou then bring to pass his prophecies\nWho threatens mutual slaughter to you both?\nPOLYNEICES Aye, so he wishes:--but I must not yield.\nANTIGONE O woe is me! but say, will any dare,\nHearing his prophecy, to follow thee?\nPOLYNEICES I shall not tell it; a good general\nReports successes and conceals mishaps.\nANTIGONE Misguided youth, thy purpose then stands fast!\nPOLYNEICES 'Tis so, and stay me not. The road I choose,\nDogged by my sire and his avenging spirit,\nLeads me to ruin; but for you may Zeus\nMake your path bright if ye fulfill my hest\nWhen dead; in life ye cannot serve me more.\nNow let me go, farewell, a long farewell!\nYe ne'er shall see my living face again.\nANTIGONE Ah me!\nPOLYNEICES Bewail me not.\nANTIGONE Who would not mourn\nThee, brother, hurrying to an open pit!\nPOLYNEICES If I must die, I must.\nANTIGONE Nay, hear me plead.\nPOLYNEICES It may not be; forbear.\nANTIGONE Then woe is me, If I must lose thee.\nPOLYNEICES Nay, that rests with fate,\nWhether I live or die; but for you both\nI pray to heaven ye may escape all ill;\nFor ye are blameless in the eyes of all. (Exit POLYNEICES)\nCHORUS (strophe 1)\nIlls on ills! no pause or rest!\nCome they from our sightless guest?\nOr haply now we see fulfilled\nWhat fate long time hath willed?\nFor ne'er have I proved vain\nAught that the heavenly powers ordain.\nTime with never sleeping eye\nWatches what is writ on high,\nOverthrowing now the great,\nRaising now from low estate.\nHark! How the thunder rumbles! Zeus defend us!\nOEDIPUS Children, my children! will no messenger\nGo summon hither Theseus my best friend?\nANTIGONE And wherefore, father, dost thou summon him?\nOEDIPUS This winged thunder of the god must bear me\nAnon to Hades. Send and tarry not.\nCHORUS (antistrophe 1)\nHark! with louder, nearer roar\nThe bolt of Zeus descends once more.\nMy spirit quails and cowers: my hair\nBristles for fear. Again that flare!\nWhat doth the lightning-flash portend?\nEver it points to issues grave.\nDread powers of air! Save, Zeus, O save!\nOEDIPUS Daughters, upon me the predestined end\nHas come; no turning from it any more.\nANTIGONE How knowest thou? What sign convinces thee?\nOEDIPUS I know full well. Let some one with all speed\nGo summon hither the Athenian prince.\nCHORUS (strophe 2)\nHa! once more the deafening sound\nPeals yet louder all around\nIf thou darkenest our land,\nLightly, lightly lay thy hand;\nGrace, not anger, let me win,\nIf upon a man of sin\nI have looked with pitying eye,\nZeus, our king, to thee I cry!\nOEDIPUS Is the prince coming? Will he when he comes\nFind me yet living and my senses clear!\nANTIGONE What solemn charge would'st thou impress on him?\nOEDIPUS For all his benefits I would perform\nThe promise made when I received them first.\nCHORUS (antistrophe 2)\nHither haste, my son, arise,\nAltar leave and sacrifice,\nIf haply to Poseidon now\nIn the far glade thou pay'st thy vow.\nFor our guest to thee would bring\nAnd thy folk and offering,\nThy due guerdon. Haste, O King! (Enter THESEUS)\nTHESEUS Wherefore again this general din? at once\nMy people call me and the stranger calls.\nIs it a thunderbolt of Zeus or sleet\nOf arrowy hail? a storm so fierce as this\nWould warrant all surmises of mischance.\nOEDIPUS Thou com'st much wished for, Prince, and sure some god\nHath bid good luck attend thee on thy way.\nTHESEUS What, son of Laius, hath chanced of new?\nOEDIPUS My life hath turned the scale. I would do all\nI promised thee and thine before I die.\nTHESEUS What sign assures thee that thine end is near?\nOEDIPUS The gods themselves are heralds of my fate;\nOf their appointed warnings nothing fails.\nTHESEUS How sayest thou they signify their will?\nOEDIPUS This thunder, peal on peal, this lightning hurled\nFlash upon flash, from the unconquered hand.\nTHESEUS I must believe thee, having found thee oft\nA prophet true; then speak what must be done.\nOEDIPUS O son of Aegeus, for this state will I\nUnfold a treasure age cannot corrupt.\nMyself anon without a guiding hand\nWill take thee to the spot where I must end.\nThis secret ne'er reveal to mortal man,\nNeither the spot nor whereabouts it lies,\nSo shall it ever serve thee for defense\nBetter than native shields and near allies.\nBut those dread mysteries speech may not profane\nThyself shalt gather coming there alone;\nSince not to any of thy subjects, nor\nTo my own children, though I love them dearly,\nCan I reveal what thou must guard alone,\nAnd whisper to thy chosen heir alone,\nSo to be handed down from heir to heir.\nThus shalt thou hold this land inviolate\nFrom the dread Dragon's brood. The justest State\nBy countless wanton neighbors may be wronged,\nFor the gods, though they tarry, mark for doom\nThe godless sinner in his mad career.\nFar from thee, son of Aegeus, be such fate!\nBut to the spot--the god within me goads--\nLet us set forth no longer hesitate.\nFollow me, daughters, this way. Strange that I\nWhom you have led so long should lead you now.\nOh, touch me not, but let me all alone\nFind out the sepulcher that destiny\nAppoints me in this land. Hither, this way,\nFor this way Hermes leads, the spirit guide,\nAnd Persephassa, empress of the dead.\nO light, no light to me, but mine erewhile,\nNow the last time I feel thee palpable,\nFor I am drawing near the final gloom\nOf Hades. Blessing on thee, dearest friend,\nOn thee and on thy land and followers!\nLive prosperous and in your happy state\nStill for your welfare think on me, the dead. (Exit THESEUS followed\nby ANTIGONE and ISMENE)\nCHORUS (strophe)\nIf mortal prayers are heard in hell,\nHear, Goddess dread, invisible!\nMonarch of the regions drear,\nAidoneus, hear, O hear!\nBy a gentle, tearless doom\nSpeed this stranger to the gloom, (Let him enter without pain) The\nall-shrouding Stygian plain.\nWrongfully in life oppressed,\nBe he now by Justice blessed.\n(antistrophe)\nQueen infernal, and thou fell\nWatch-dog of the gates of hell,\nWho, as legends tell, dost glare,\nGnarling in thy cavernous lair\nAt all comers, let him go\nScathless to the fields below.\nFor thy master orders thus,\nThe son of earth and Tartarus;\nIn his den the monster keep,\nGiver of eternal sleep. (Enter MESSENGER)\nMESSENGER Friends, countrymen, my tidings are in sum\nThat Oedipus is gone, but the event\nWas not so brief, nor can the tale be brief.\nCHORUS What, has he gone, the unhappy man?\nMESSENGER Know well That he has passed away from life to death.\nCHORUS How? By a god-sent, painless doom, poor soul?\nMESSENGER Thy question hits the marvel of the tale.\nHow he moved hence, you saw him and must know;\nWithout a friend to lead the way, himself\nGuiding us all. So having reached the abrupt\nEarth-rooted Threshold with its brazen stairs,\nHe paused at one of the converging paths,\nHard by the rocky basin which records\nThe pact of Theseus and Peirithous.\nBetwixt that rift and the Thorician rock,\nThe hollow pear-tree and the marble tomb,\nMidway he sat and loosed his beggar's weeds;\nThen calling to his daughters bade them fetch\nOf running water, both to wash withal\nAnd make libation; so they clomb the steep;\nAnd in brief space brought what their father bade,\nThen laved and dressed him with observance due.\nBut when he had his will in everything,\nAnd no desire was left unsatisfied,\nIt thundered from the netherworld; the maids\nShivered, and crouching at their father's knees\nWept, beat their breast and uttered a long wail.\nHe, as he heard their sudden bitter cry,\nFolded his arms about them both and said,\n\"My children, ye will lose your sire today,\nFor all of me has perished, and no more\nHave ye to bear your long, long ministry;\nA heavy load, I know, and yet one word\nWipes out all score of tribulations--love.\nAnd love from me ye had--from no man more;\nBut now must live without me all your days.\"\nSo clinging to each other sobbed and wept\nFather and daughters both, but when at last\nTheir mourning had an end and no wail rose,\nA moment there was silence; suddenly\nA voice that summoned him; with sudden dread\nThe hair of all stood up and all were 'mazed;\nFor the call came, now loud, now low, and oft.\n\"Oedipus, Oedipus, why tarry we?\nToo long, too long thy passing is delayed.\"\nBut when he heard the summons of the god,\nHe prayed that Theseus might be brought, and when\nThe Prince came nearer: \"O my friend,\" he cried,\n\"Pledge ye my daughters, giving thy right hand--\nAnd, daughters, give him yours--and promise me\nThou never wilt forsake them, but do all\nThat time and friendship prompt in their behoof.\"\nAnd he of his nobility repressed\nHis tears and swore to be their constant friend.\nThis promise given, Oedipus put forth\nBlind hands and laid them on his children, saying,\n\"O children, prove your true nobility\nAnd hence depart nor seek to witness sights\nUnlawful or to hear unlawful words.\nNay, go with speed; let none but Theseus stay,\nOur ruler, to behold what next shall hap.\"\nSo we all heard him speak, and weeping sore\nWe companied the maidens on their way.\nAfter brief space we looked again, and lo\nThe man was gone, evanished from our eyes;\nOnly the king we saw with upraised hand\nShading his eyes as from some awful sight,\nThat no man might endure to look upon.\nA moment later, and we saw him bend\nIn prayer to Earth and prayer to Heaven at once.\nBut by what doom the stranger met his end\nNo man save Theseus knoweth. For there fell\nNo fiery bold that reft him in that hour,\nNor whirlwind from the sea, but he was taken.\nIt was a messenger from heaven, or else\nSome gentle, painless cleaving of earth's base;\nFor without wailing or disease or pain\nHe passed away--and end most marvelous.\nAnd if to some my tale seems foolishness\nI am content that such could count me fool.\nCHORUS Where are the maids and their attendant friends?\nMESSENGER They cannot be far off; the approaching sound\nOf lamentation tells they come this way. (Enter ANTIGONE and ISMENE)\nANTIGONE (strophe 1)\nWoe, woe! on this sad day\nWe sisters of one blasted stock must bow beneath the shock,\nMust weep and weep the curse that lay\nOn him our sire, for whom\nIn life, a life-long world of care\n'Twas ours to bear,\nIn death must face the gloom\nThat wraps his tomb.\nWhat tongue can tell\nThat sight ineffable?\nCHORUS What mean ye, maidens?\nANTIGONE All is but surmise.\nCHORUS Is he then gone?\nANTIGONE Gone as ye most might wish.\nNot in battle or sea storm,\nBut reft from sight,\nBy hands invisible borne\nTo viewless fields of night.\nAh me! on us too night has come,\nThe night of mourning. Wither roam\nO'er land or sea in our distress\nEating the bread of bitterness?\nISMENE I know not. O that Death\nMight nip my breath,\nAnd let me share my aged father's fate.\nI cannot live a life thus desolate.\nCHORUS Best of daughters, worthy pair,\nWhat heaven brings ye needs must bear,\nFret no more 'gainst Heaven's will;\nFate hath dealt with you not ill.\nANTIGONE (antistrophe 1)\nLove can turn past pain to bliss,\nWhat seemed bitter now is sweet.\nAh me! that happy toil is sweet.\nThe guidance of those dear blind feet.\nDear father, wrapt for aye in nether gloom,\nE'en in the tomb\nNever shalt thou lack of love repine,\nHer love and mine.\nCHORUS His fate--\nANTIGONE Is even as he planned.\nCHORUS How so?\nANTIGONE He died, so willed he, in a foreign land.\nLapped in kind earth he sleeps his long last sleep,\nAnd o'er his grave friends weep.\nHow great our lost these streaming eyes can tell,\nThis sorrow naught can quell.\nThou hadst thy wish 'mid strangers thus to die,\nBut I, ah me, not by.\nISMENE Alas, my sister, what new fate\nBefalls us orphans desolate?\nCHORUS His end was blessed; therefore, children, stay\nYour sorrow. Man is born to fate a prey.\nANTIGONE (strophe 2)\nSister, let us back again.\nISMENE Why return?\nANTIGONE My soul is fain--\nISMENE Is fain?\nANTIGONE To see the earthy bed.\nISMENE Sayest thou?\nANTIGONE Where our sire is laid.\nISMENE Nay, thou can'st not, dost not see--\nANTIGONE Sister, wherefore wroth with me?\nISMENE Know'st not--beside--\nANTIGONE More must I hear?\nISMENE Tombless he died, none near.\nANTIGONE Lead me thither; slay me there.\nISMENE How shall I unhappy fare,\nFriendless, helpless, how drag on\nA life of misery alone?\nCHORUS (antistrophe 2)\nFear not, maids--\nANTIGONE Ah, whither flee?\nCHORUS Refuge hath been found.\nANTIGONE For me?\nCHORUS Where thou shalt be safe from harm.\nANTIGONE I know it.\nCHORUS Why then this alarm?\nANTIGONE How again to get us home\nI know not.\nCHORUS Why then this roam?\nANTIGONE Troubles whelm us--\nCHORUS As of yore.\nANTIGONE Worse than what was worse before.\nCHORUS Sure ye are driven on the breakers' surge.\nANTIGONE Alas! we are.\nCHORUS Alas! 'tis so.\nANTIGONE Ah whither turn, O Zeus? No ray\nOf hope to cheer the way\nWhereon the fates our desperate voyage urge. (Enter THESEUS)\nTHESEUS Dry your tears; when grace is shed\nOn the quick and on the dead\nBy dark Powers beneficent,\nOver-grief they would resent.\nANTIGONE Aegeus' child, to thee we pray.\nTHESEUS What the boon, my children, say.\nANTIGONE With our own eyes we fain would see\nOur father's tomb.\nTHESEUS That may not be.\nANTIGONE What say'st thou, King?\nTHESEUS My children, he\nCharged me straitly that no moral\nShould approach the sacred portal,\nOr greet with funeral litanies\nThe hidden tomb wherein he lies;\nSaying, \"If thou keep'st my hest\nThou shalt hold thy realm at rest.\"\nThe God of Oaths this promise heard,\nAnd to Zeus I pledged my word.\nANTIGONE Well, if he would have it so,\nWe must yield. Then let us go\nBack to Thebes, if yet we may\nHeal this mortal feud and stay\nThe self-wrought doom\nThat drives our brothers to their tomb.\nTHESEUS Go in peace; nor will I spare\nOught of toil and zealous care,\nBut on all your needs attend,\nGladdening in his grave my friend.\nCHORUS Wail no more, let sorrow rest,\nAll is ordered for the best.\nTHE END","title":"Oedipus at Colonus","type":"page"}