Part 4

1 (return) [ Dr. Kennedy and others render “Since to men of experience I see that also comparisons of their counsels are in most lively use.”]

2 (return) [ Literally “not to call them thine,” but the Greek may be rendered “In order not to reveal thine.”]

3 (return) [ The Greek text that occurs in this place has been lost.]

OEDIPUS AT COLONUS

Translation by F. Storr, BA Formerly Scholar of Trinity College, Cambridge From the Loeb Library Edition Originally published by Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA and William Heinemann Ltd, London First published in 1912

ARGUMENT

Oedipus, the blind and banished King of Thebes, has come in his wanderings to Colonus, a deme of Athens, led by his daughter Antigone. He sits to rest on a rock just within a sacred grove of the Furies and is bidden depart by a passing native. But Oedipus, instructed by an oracle that he had reached his final resting-place, refuses to stir, and the stranger consents to go and consult the Elders of Colonus (the Chorus of the Play). Conducted to the spot they pity at first the blind beggar and his daughter, but on learning his name they are horror-striken and order him to quit the land. He appeals to the world-famed hospitality of Athens and hints at the blessings that his coming will confer on the State. They agree to await the decision of King Theseus. From Theseus Oedipus craves protection in life and burial in Attic soil; the benefits that will accrue shall be told later. Theseus departs having promised to aid and befriend him. No sooner has he gone than Creon enters with an armed guard who seize Antigone and carry her off (Ismene, the other sister, they have already captured) and he is about to lay hands on Oedipus, when Theseus, who has heard the tumult, hurries up and, upbraiding Creon for his lawless act, threatens to detain him till he has shown where the captives are and restored them. In the next scene Theseus returns bringing with him the rescued maidens. He informs Oedipus that a stranger who has taken sanctuary at the altar of Poseidon wishes to see him. It is Polyneices who has come to crave his father’s forgiveness and blessing, knowing by an oracle that victory will fall to the side that Oedipus espouses. But Oedipus spurns the hypocrite, and invokes a dire curse on both his unnatural sons. A sudden clap of thunder is heard, and as peal follows peal, Oedipus is aware that his hour is come and bids Antigone summon Theseus. Self-guided he leads the way to the spot where death should overtake him, attended by Theseus and his daughters. Halfway he bids his daughters farewell, and what followed none but Theseus knew. He was not (so the Messenger reports) for the gods took him.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

OEDIPUS, banished King of Thebes. ANTIGONE, his daughter. ISMENE, his daughter. THESEUS, King of Athens. CREON, brother of Jocasta, now reigning at Thebes. POLYNEICES, elder son of Oedipus. STRANGER, a native of Colonus. MESSENGER, an attendant of Theseus. CHORUS, citizens of Colonus.

Scene: In front of the grove of the Eumenides.

OEDIPUS AT COLONUS

Enter the blind OEDIPUS led by his daughter, ANTIGONE.

OEDIPUS. Child of an old blind sire, Antigone, What region, say, whose city have we reached? Who will provide today with scanted dole This wanderer? ’Tis little that he craves, And less obtains—that less enough for me; For I am taught by suffering to endure, And the long years that have grown old with me, And last not least, by true nobility. My daughter, if thou seest a resting place On common ground or by some sacred grove, Stay me and set me down. Let us discover Where we have come, for strangers must inquire Of denizens, and do as they are bid.

ANTIGONE. Long-suffering father, Oedipus, the towers That fence the city still are faint and far; But where we stand is surely holy ground; A wilderness of laurel, olive, vine; Within a choir or songster nightingales Are warbling. On this native seat of rock Rest; for an old man thou hast traveled far.

OEDIPUS. Guide these dark steps and seat me there secure.

ANTIGONE. If time can teach, I need not to be told.

OEDIPUS. Say, prithee, if thou knowest, where we are.

ANTIGONE. Athens I recognize, but not the spot.

OEDIPUS. That much we heard from every wayfarer.

ANTIGONE. Shall I go on and ask about the place?

OEDIPUS. Yes, daughter, if it be inhabited.

ANTIGONE. Sure there are habitations; but no need To leave thee; yonder is a man hard by.

OEDIPUS. What, moving hitherward and on his way?

ANTIGONE. Say rather, here already. Ask him straight The needful questions, for the man is here. [Enter STRANGER]

OEDIPUS. O stranger, as I learn from her whose eyes Must serve both her and me, that thou art here Sent by some happy chance to serve our doubts—

STRANGER. First quit that seat, then question me at large: The spot thou treadest on is holy ground.

OEDIPUS. What is the site, to what god dedicate?

STRANGER. Inviolable, untrod; goddesses, Dread brood of Earth and Darkness, here abide.

OEDIPUS. Tell me the awful name I should invoke?

STRANGER. The Gracious Ones, All-seeing, so our folk Call them, but elsewhere other names are rife.

OEDIPUS. Then may they show their suppliant grace, for I From this your sanctuary will ne’er depart.

STRANGER. What word is this?

OEDIPUS. The watchword of my fate.

STRANGER. Nay, ’tis not mine to bid thee hence without Due warrant and instruction from the State.

OEDIPUS. Now in God’s name, O stranger, scorn me not As a wayfarer; tell me what I crave.

STRANGER. Ask; your request shall not be scorned by me.

OEDIPUS. How call you then the place wherein we bide?

STRANGER. Whate’er I know thou too shalt know; the place Is all to great Poseidon consecrate. Hard by, the Titan, he who bears the torch, Prometheus, has his worship; but the spot Thou treadest, the Brass-footed Threshold named, Is Athens’ bastion, and the neighboring lands Claim as their chief and patron yonder knight Colonus, and in common bear his name. Such, stranger, is the spot, to fame unknown, But dear to us its native worshipers.

OEDIPUS. Thou sayest there are dwellers in these parts?

STRANGER. Surely; they bear the name of yonder god.

OEDIPUS. Ruled by a king or by the general voice?

STRANGER. The lord of Athens is our over-lord.

OEDIPUS. Who is this monarch, great in word and might?

STRANGER. Theseus, the son of Aegeus our late king.

OEDIPUS. Might one be sent from you to summon him?

STRANGER. Wherefore? To tell him aught or urge his coming?

OEDIPUS. Say a slight service may avail him much.

STRANGER. How can he profit from a sightless man?

OEDIPUS. The blind man’s words will be instinct with sight.

STRANGER. Heed then; I fain would see thee out of harm; For by the looks, marred though they be by fate, I judge thee noble; tarry where thou art, While I go seek the burghers—those at hand, Not in the city. They will soon decide Whether thou art to rest or go thy way. [Exit STRANGER]

OEDIPUS. Tell me, my daughter, has the stranger gone?

ANTIGONE. Yes, he has gone; now we are all alone, And thou may’st speak, dear father, without fear.

OEDIPUS. Stern-visaged queens, since coming to this land First in your sanctuary I bent the knee, Frown not on me or Phoebus, who, when erst He told me all my miseries to come, Spake of this respite after many years, Some haven in a far-off land, a rest Vouchsafed at last by dread divinities. “There,” said he, “shalt thou round thy weary life, A blessing to the land wherein thou dwell’st, But to the land that cast thee forth, a curse.” And of my weird he promised signs should come, Earthquake, or thunderclap, or lightning flash. And now I recognize as yours the sign That led my wanderings to this your grove; Else had I never lighted on you first, A wineless man on your seat of native rock. O goddesses, fulfill Apollo’s word, Grant me some consummation of my life, If haply I appear not all too vile, A thrall to sorrow worse than any slave. Hear, gentle daughters of primeval Night, Hear, namesake of great Pallas; Athens, first Of cities, pity this dishonored shade, The ghost of him who once was Oedipus.

ANTIGONE. Hush! for I see some grey-beards on their way, Their errand to spy out our resting-place.

OEDIPUS. I will be mute, and thou shalt guide my steps Into the covert from the public road, Till I have learned their drift. A prudent man Will ever shape his course by what he learns. [Enter CHORUS]

CHORUS. (Str. 1) Ha! Where is he? Look around! Every nook and corner scan! He the all-presumptuous man, Whither vanished? search the ground! A wayfarer, I ween, A wayfarer, no countryman of ours, That old man must have been; Never had native dared to tempt the Powers, Or enter their demesne, The Maids in awe of whom each mortal cowers, Whose name no voice betrays nor cry, And as we pass them with averted eye, We move hushed lips in reverent piety. But now some godless man, ’Tis rumored, here abides; The precincts through I scan, Yet wot not where he hides, The wretch profane! I search and search in vain.

OEDIPUS. I am that man; I know you near Ears to the blind, they say, are eyes.

CHORUS. O dread to see and dread to hear!

OEDIPUS. Oh sirs, I am no outlaw under ban.

CHORUS. Who can he be—Zeus save us!—this old man?

OEDIPUS. No favorite of fate, That ye should envy his estate, O, Sirs, would any happy mortal, say, Grope by the light of other eyes his way, Or face the storm upon so frail a stay?

CHORUS. (Ant. 1) Wast thou then sightless from thy birth? Evil, methinks, and long Thy pilgrimage on earth. Yet add not curse to curse and wrong to wrong. I warn thee, trespass not Within this hallowed spot, Lest thou shouldst find the silent grassy glade Where offerings are laid, Bowls of spring water mingled with sweet mead. Thou must not stay, Come, come away, Tired wanderer, dost thou heed? (We are far off, but sure our voice can reach.) If aught thou wouldst beseech, Speak where ’tis right; till then refrain from speech.

OEDIPUS. Daughter, what counsel should we now pursue?

ANTIGONE. We must obey and do as here they do.

OEDIPUS. Thy hand then!

ANTIGONE. Here, O father, is my hand,

OEDIPUS. O Sirs, if I come forth at your command, Let me not suffer for my confidence.

CHORUS. (Str. 2) Against thy will no man shall drive thee hence.

OEDIPUS. Shall I go further?

CHORUS. Aye.

OEDIPUS. What further still?

CHORUS. Lead maiden, thou canst guide him where we will.

ANTIGONE 4 * * * * * *

OEDIPUS. * * * * * *

ANTIGONE. * * * * * * Follow with blind steps, father, as I lead.

OEDIPUS.

* * * * * *

CHORUS. In a strange land strange thou art; To her will incline thy heart; Honor whatso’er the State Honors, all she frowns on hate.

OEDIPUS. Guide me child, where we may range Safe within the paths of right; Counsel freely may exchange Nor with fate and fortune fight.

CHORUS. (Ant. 2) Halt! Go no further than that rocky floor.

OEDIPUS. Stay where I now am?

CHORUS. Yes, advance no more.

OEDIPUS. May I sit down?

CHORUS. Move sideways towards the ledge, And sit thee crouching on the scarped edge.

ANTIGONE. This is my office, father, O incline—

OEDIPUS. Ah me! ah me!

ANTIGONE. Thy steps to my steps, lean thine aged frame on mine.

OEDIPUS. Woe on my fate unblest!

CHORUS. Wanderer, now thou art at rest, Tell me of thy birth and home, From what far country art thou come, Led on thy weary way, declare!

OEDIPUS. Strangers, I have no country. O forbear—

CHORUS. What is it, old man, that thou wouldst conceal?

OEDIPUS. Forbear, nor urge me further to reveal—

CHORUS. Why this reluctance?

OEDIPUS. Dread my lineage.

CHORUS. Say!

OEDIPUS. What must I answer, child, ah welladay!

CHORUS. Say of what stock thou comest, what man’s son—

OEDIPUS. Ah me, my daughter, now we are undone!

ANTIGONE. Speak, for thou standest on the slippery verge.

OEDIPUS. I will; no plea for silence can I urge.

CHORUS. Will neither speak? Come, Sir, why dally thus!

OEDIPUS. Know’st one of Laius’—

CHORUS. Ha? Who!

OEDIPUS. Seed of Labdacus—

CHORUS. Oh Zeus!

OEDIPUS. The hapless Oedipus.

CHORUS. Art he?

OEDIPUS. Whate’er I utter, have no fear of me.

CHORUS. Begone!

OEDIPUS. O wretched me!

CHORUS. Begone!

OEDIPUS. O daughter, what will hap anon?

CHORUS. Forth from our borders speed ye both!

OEDIPUS. How keep you then your troth?

CHORUS. Heaven’s justice never smites Him who ill with ill requites. But if guile with guile contend, Bane, not blessing, is the end. Arise, begone and take thee hence straightway, Lest on our land a heavier curse thou lay.

ANTIGONE. O sirs! ye suffered not my father blind, Albeit gracious and to ruth inclined, Knowing the deeds he wrought, not innocent, But with no ill intent; Yet heed a maiden’s moan Who pleads for him alone; My eyes, not reft of sight, Plead with you as a daughter’s might You are our providence, O make us not go hence! O with a gracious nod Grant us the nigh despaired-of boon we crave? Hear us, O hear, But all that ye hold dear, Wife, children, homestead, hearth and God! Where will you find one, search ye ne’er so well. Who ’scapes perdition if a god impel!

CHORUS. Surely we pity thee and him alike Daughter of Oedipus, for your distress; But as we reverence the decrees of Heaven We cannot say aught other than we said.

OEDIPUS. O what avails renown or fair repute? Are they not vanity? For, look you, now Athens is held of States the most devout, Athens alone gives hospitality And shelters the vexed stranger, so men say. Have I found so? I whom ye dislodged First from my seat of rock and now would drive Forth from your land, dreading my name alone; For me you surely dread not, nor my deeds, Deeds of a man more sinned against than sinning, As I might well convince you, were it meet To tell my mother’s story and my sire’s, The cause of this your fear. Yet am I then A villain born because in self-defense, Striken, I struck the striker back again? E’en had I known, no villainy ’twould prove: But all unwitting whither I went, I went— To ruin; my destroyers knew it well, Wherefore, I pray you, sirs, in Heaven’s name, Even as ye bade me quit my seat, defend me. O pay not a lip service to the gods And wrong them of their dues. Bethink ye well, The eye of Heaven beholds the just of men, And the unjust, nor ever in this world Has one sole godless sinner found escape. Stand then on Heaven’s side and never blot Athens’ fair scutcheon by abetting wrong. I came to you a suppliant, and you pledged Your honor; O preserve me to the end, O let not this marred visage do me wrong! A holy and god-fearing man is here Whose coming purports comfort for your folk. And when your chief arrives, whoe’er he be, Then shall ye have my story and know all. Meanwhile I pray you do me no despite.

CHORUS. The plea thou urgest, needs must give us pause, Set forth in weighty argument, but we Must leave the issue with the ruling powers.

OEDIPUS. Where is he, strangers, he who sways the realm?

CHORUS. In his ancestral seat; a messenger, The same who sent us here, is gone for him.

OEDIPUS. And think you he will have such care or thought For the blind stranger as to come himself?

CHORUS. Aye, that he will, when once he learns thy name.

OEDIPUS. But who will bear him word!

CHORUS. The way is long, And many travelers pass to speed the news. Be sure he’ll hear and hasten, never fear; So wide and far thy name is noised abroad, That, were he ne’er so spent and loth to move, He would bestir him when he hears of thee.

OEDIPUS. Well, may he come with blessing to his State And me! Who serves his neighbor serves himself. 5

ANTIGONE. Zeus! What is this? What can I say or think?

OEDIPUS. What now, Antigone?

ANTIGONE. I see a woman Riding upon a colt of Aetna’s breed; She wears for headgear a Thessalian hat To shade her from the sun. Who can it be? She or a stranger? Do I wake or dream? ’Tis she; ’tis not—I cannot tell, alack; It is no other! Now her bright’ning glance Greets me with recognition, yes, ’tis she, Herself, Ismene!

OEDIPUS. Ha! what say ye, child?

ANTIGONE. That I behold thy daughter and my sister, And thou wilt know her straightway by her voice. [Enter ISMENE]

ISMENE. Father and sister, names to me most sweet, How hardly have I found you, hardly now When found at last can see you through my tears!

OEDIPUS. Art come, my child?

ISMENE. O father, sad thy plight!

OEDIPUS. Child, thou art here?

ISMENE. Yes, ’twas a weary way.

OEDIPUS. Touch me, my child.

ISMENE. I give a hand to both.

OEDIPUS. O children—sisters!

ISMENE. O disastrous plight!

OEDIPUS. Her plight and mine?

ISMENE. Aye, and my own no less.

OEDIPUS. What brought thee, daughter?

ISMENE. Father, care for thee.

OEDIPUS. A daughter’s yearning?

ISMENE. Yes, and I had news I would myself deliver, so I came With the one thrall who yet is true to me.

OEDIPUS. Thy valiant brothers, where are they at need?

ISMENE. They are—enough, ’tis now their darkest hour.

OEDIPUS. Out on the twain! The thoughts and actions all Are framed and modeled on Egyptian ways. For there the men sit at the loom indoors While the wives slave abroad for daily bread. So you, my children—those whom I behooved To bear the burden, stay at home like girls, While in their stead my daughters moil and drudge, Lightening their father’s misery. The one Since first she grew from girlish feebleness To womanhood has been the old man’s guide And shared my weary wandering, roaming oft Hungry and footsore through wild forest ways, In drenching rains and under scorching suns, Careless herself of home and ease, if so Her sire might have her tender ministry. And thou, my child, whilom thou wentest forth, Eluding the Cadmeians’ vigilance, To bring thy father all the oracles Concerning Oedipus, and didst make thyself My faithful lieger, when they banished me. And now what mission summons thee from home, What news, Ismene, hast thou for thy father? This much I know, thou com’st not empty-handed, Without a warning of some new alarm.

ISMENE. The toil and trouble, father, that I bore To find thy lodging-place and how thou faredst, I spare thee; surely ’twere a double pain To suffer, first in act and then in telling; ’Tis the misfortune of thine ill-starred sons I come to tell thee. At the first they willed To leave the throne to Creon, minded well Thus to remove the inveterate curse of old, A canker that infected all thy race. But now some god and an infatuate soul Have stirred betwixt them a mad rivalry To grasp at sovereignty and kingly power. Today the hot-branded youth, the younger born, Is keeping Polyneices from the throne, His elder, and has thrust him from the land. The banished brother (so all Thebes reports) Fled to the vale of Argos, and by help Of new alliance there and friends in arms, Swears he will stablish Argos straight as lord Of the Cadmeian land, or, if he fail, Exalt the victor to the stars of heaven. This is no empty tale, but deadly truth, My father; and how long thy agony, Ere the gods pity thee, I cannot tell.

OEDIPUS. Hast thou indeed then entertained a hope The gods at last will turn and rescue me?

ISMENE. Yea, so I read these latest oracles.

OEDIPUS. What oracles? What hath been uttered, child?

ISMENE. Thy country (so it runs) shall yearn in time To have thee for their weal alive or dead.

OEDIPUS. And who could gain by such a one as I?

ISMENE. On thee, ’tis said, their sovereignty depends.

OEDIPUS. So, when I cease to be, my worth begins.

ISMENE. The gods, who once abased, uplift thee now.

OEDIPUS. Poor help to raise an old man fallen in youth.

ISMENE. Howe’er that be, ’tis for this cause alone That Creon comes to thee—and comes anon.

OEDIPUS. With what intent, my daughter? Tell me plainly.

ISMENE. To plant thee near the Theban land, and so Keep thee within their grasp, yet now allow Thy foot to pass beyond their boundaries.

OEDIPUS. What gain they, if I lay outside?

OEDIPUS. Thy tomb, If disappointed, brings on them a curse.

OEDIPUS. It needs no god to tell what’s plain to sense.

ISMENE. Therefore they fain would have thee close at hand, Not where thou wouldst be master of thyself.

OEDIPUS. Mean they to shroud my bones in Theban dust?

ISMENE. Nay, father, guilt of kinsman’s blood forbids.

OEDIPUS. Then never shall they be my masters, never!

ISMENE. Thebes, thou shalt rue this bitterly some day!

OEDIPUS. When what conjunction comes to pass, my child?

ISMENE. Thy angry wraith, when at thy tomb they stand. 6

OEDIPUS. And who hath told thee what thou tell’st me, child?

ISMENE. Envoys who visited the Delphic hearth.

OEDIPUS. Hath Phoebus spoken thus concerning me?

ISMENE. So say the envoys who returned to Thebes.

OEDIPUS. And can a son of mine have heard of this?

ISMENE. Yea, both alike, and know its import well.

OEDIPUS. They knew it, yet the ignoble greed of rule Outweighed all longing for their sire’s return.

ISMENE. Grievous thy words, yet I must own them true.

OEDIPUS. Then may the gods ne’er quench their fatal feud, And mine be the arbitrament of the fight, For which they now are arming, spear to spear; That neither he who holds the scepter now May keep this throne, nor he who fled the realm Return again. _They_ never raised a hand, When I their sire was thrust from hearth and home, When I was banned and banished, what recked they? Say you ’twas done at my desire, a grace Which the state, yielding to my wish, allowed? Not so; for, mark you, on that very day When in the tempest of my soul I craved Death, even death by stoning, none appeared To further that wild longing, but anon, When time had numbed my anguish and I felt My wrath had all outrun those errors past, Then, then it was the city went about By force to oust me, respited for years; And then my sons, who should as sons have helped, Did nothing: and, one little word from them Was all I needed, and they spoke no word, But let me wander on for evermore, A banished man, a beggar. These two maids Their sisters, girls, gave all their sex could give, Food and safe harborage and filial care; While their two brethren sacrificed their sire For lust of power and sceptred sovereignty. No! me they ne’er shall win for an ally, Nor will this Theban kingship bring them gain; That know I from this maiden’s oracles, And those old prophecies concerning me, Which Phoebus now at length has brought to pass. Come Creon then, come all the mightiest In Thebes to seek me; for if ye my friends, Championed by those dread Powers indigenous, Espouse my cause; then for the State ye gain A great deliverer, for my foemen bane.

CHORUS. Our pity, Oedipus, thou needs must move, Thou and these maidens; and the stronger plea Thou urgest, as the savior of our land, Disposes me to counsel for thy weal.

OEDIPUS. Aid me, kind sirs; I will do all you bid.

CHORUS. First make atonement to the deities, Whose grove by trespass thou didst first profane.

OEDIPUS. After what manner, stranger? Teach me, pray.

CHORUS. Make a libation first of water fetched With undefiled hands from living spring.