Part 6

OEDIPUS. O shameless railer, think’st thou this abuse Defames my grey hairs rather than thine own? Murder and incest, deeds of horror, all Thou blurtest forth against me, all I have borne, No willing sinner; so it pleased the gods Wrath haply with my sinful race of old, Since thou could’st find no sin in me myself For which in retribution I was doomed To trespass thus against myself and mine. Answer me now, if by some oracle My sire was destined to a bloody end By a son’s hand, can this reflect on me, Me then unborn, begotten by no sire, Conceived in no mother’s womb? And if When born to misery, as born I was, I met my sire, not knowing whom I met or what I did, and slew him, how canst thou With justice blame the all-unconscious hand? And for my mother, wretch, art not ashamed, Seeing she was thy sister, to extort From me the story of her marriage, such A marriage as I straightway will proclaim. For I will speak; thy lewd and impious speech Has broken all the bonds of reticence. She was, ah woe is me! she was my mother; I knew it not, nor she; and she my mother Bare children to the son whom she had borne, A birth of shame. But this at least I know Wittingly thou aspersest her and me; But I unwitting wed, unwilling speak. Nay neither in this marriage or this deed Which thou art ever casting in my teeth— A murdered sire—shall I be held to blame. Come, answer me one question, if thou canst: If one should presently attempt thy life, Would’st thou, O man of justice, first inquire If the assassin was perchance thy sire, Or turn upon him? As thou lov’st thy life, On thy aggressor thou would’st turn, no stay Debating, if the law would bear thee out. Such was my case, and such the pass whereto The gods reduced me; and methinks my sire, Could he come back to life, would not dissent. Yet thou, for just thou art not, but a man Who sticks at nothing, if it serve his plea, Reproachest me with this before these men. It serves thy turn to laud great Theseus’ name, And Athens as a wisely governed State; Yet in thy flatteries one thing is to seek: If any land knows how to pay the gods Their proper rites, ’tis Athens most of all. This is the land whence thou wast fain to steal Their aged suppliant and hast carried off My daughters. Therefore to yon goddesses, I turn, adjure them and invoke their aid To champion my cause, that thou mayest learn What is the breed of men who guard this State.

CHORUS. An honest man, my liege, one sore bestead By fortune, and so worthy our support.

THESEUS. Enough of words; the captors speed amain, While we the victims stand debating here.

CREON. What would’st thou? What can I, a feeble man?

THESEUS. Show us the trail, and I’ll attend thee too, That, if thou hast the maidens hereabouts, Thou mayest thyself discover them to me; But if thy guards outstrip us with their spoil, We may draw rein; for others speed, from whom They will not ’scape to thank the gods at home. Lead on, I say, the captor’s caught, and fate Hath ta’en the fowler in the toils he spread; So soon are lost gains gotten by deceit. And look not for allies; I know indeed Such height of insolence was never reached Without abettors or accomplices; Thou hast some backer in thy bold essay, But I will search this matter home and see One man doth not prevail against the State. Dost take my drift, or seem these words as vain As seemed our warnings when the plot was hatched?

CREON. Nothing thou sayest can I here dispute, But once at home I too shall act my part.

THESEUS. Threaten us and—begone! Thou, Oedipus, Stay here assured that nothing save my death Will stay my purpose to restore the maids.

OEDIPUS. Heaven bless thee, Theseus, for thy nobleness And all thy loving care in my behalf. [Exeunt THESEUS and CREON]

CHORUS. (Str. 1) O when the flying foe, Turning at last to bay, Soon will give blow for blow, Might I behold the fray; Hear the loud battle roar Swell, on the Pythian shore, Or by the torch-lit bay, Where the dread Queen and Maid Cherish the mystic rites, Rites they to none betray, Ere on his lips is laid Secrecy’s golden key By their own acolytes, Priestly Eumolpidae.

There I might chance behold Theseus our captain bold Meet with the robber band, Ere they have fled the land, Rescue by might and main Maidens, the captives twain.

(Ant. 1) Haply on swiftest steed, Or in the flying car, Now they approach the glen, West of white Oea’s scaur. They will be vanquished: Dread are our warriors, dread Theseus our chieftain’s men. Flashes each bridle bright, Charges each gallant knight, All that our Queen adore, Pallas their patron, or Him whose wide floods enring Earth, the great Ocean-king Whom Rhea bore.

(Str. 2) Fight they or now prepare To fight? a vision rare Tells me that soon again I shall behold the twain Maidens so ill bestead, By their kin buffeted. Today, today Zeus worketh some great thing This day shall victory bring. O for the wings, the wings of a dove, To be borne with the speed of the gale, Up and still upwards to sail And gaze on the fray from the clouds above. (Ant. 2) All-seeing Zeus, O lord of heaven, To our guardian host be given Might triumphant to surprise Flying foes and win their prize. Hear us, Zeus, and hear us, child Of Zeus, Athene undefiled, Hear, Apollo, hunter, hear, Huntress, sister of Apollo, Who the dappled swift-foot deer O’er the wooded glade dost follow; Help with your two-fold power Athens in danger’s hour! O wayfarer, thou wilt not have to tax The friends who watch for thee with false presage, For lo, an escort with the maids draws near. [Enter ANTIGONE and ISMENE with THESEUS]

OEDIPUS. Where, where? what sayest thou?

ANTIGONE. O father, father, Would that some god might grant thee eyes to see This best of men who brings us back again.

OEDIPUS. My child! and are ye back indeed!

ANTIGONE. Yes, saved By Theseus and his gallant followers.

OEDIPUS. Come to your father’s arms, O let me feel A child’s embrace I never hoped for more.

ANTIGONE. Thou askest what is doubly sweet to give.

OEDIPUS. Where are ye then?

ANTIGONE. We come together both.

OEDIPUS. My precious nurslings!

ANTIGONE. Fathers aye were fond.

OEDIPUS. Props of my age!

ANTIGONE. So sorrow sorrow props.

OEDIPUS. I have my darlings, and if death should come, Death were not wholly bitter with you near. Cling to me, press me close on either side, There rest ye from your dreary wayfaring. Now tell me of your ventures, but in brief; Brief speech suffices for young maids like you.

ANTIGONE. Here is our savior; thou should’st hear the tale From his own lips; so shall my part be brief.

OEDIPUS. I pray thee do not wonder if the sight Of children, given o’er for lost, has made My converse somewhat long and tedious. Full well I know the joy I have of them Is due to thee, to thee and no man else; Thou wast their sole deliverer, none else. The gods deal with thee after my desire, With thee and with this land! for fear of heaven I found above all peoples most with you, And righteousness and lips that cannot lie. I speak in gratitude of what I know, For all I have I owe to thee alone. Give me thy hand, O Prince, that I may touch it, And if thou wilt permit me, kiss thy cheek. What say I? Can I wish that thou should’st touch One fallen like me to utter wretchedness, Corrupt and tainted with a thousand ills? Oh no, I would not let thee if thou would’st. They only who have known calamity Can share it. Let me greet thee where thou art, And still befriend me as thou hast till now.

THESEUS. I marvel not if thou hast dallied long In converse with thy children and preferred Their speech to mine; I feel no jealousy, I would be famous more by deeds than words. Of this, old friend, thou hast had proof; my oath I have fulfilled and brought thee back the maids Alive and nothing harmed for all those threats. And how the fight was won, ’twere waste of words To boast—thy daughters here will tell thee all. But of a matter that has lately chanced On my way hitherward, I fain would have Thy counsel—slight ’twould seem, yet worthy thought. A wise man heeds all matters great or small.

OEDIPUS. What is it, son of Aegeus? Let me hear. Of what thou askest I myself know naught.

THESEUS. ’Tis said a man, no countryman of thine, But of thy kin, hath taken sanctuary Beside the altar of Poseidon, where I was at sacrifice when called away.

OEDIPUS. What is his country? what the suitor’s prayer?

THESEUS. I know but one thing; he implores, I am told, A word with thee—he will not trouble thee.

OEDIPUS. What seeks he? If a suppliant, something grave.

THESEUS. He only waits, they say, to speak with thee, And then unharmed to go upon his way.

OEDIPUS. I marvel who is this petitioner.

THESEUS. Think if there be not any of thy kin At Argos who might claim this boon of thee.

OEDIPUS. Dear friend, forbear, I pray.

THESEUS. What ails thee now?

OEDIPUS. Ask it not of me.

THESEUS. Ask not what? explain.

OEDIPUS. Thy words have told me who the suppliant is.

THESEUS. Who can he be that I should frown on him?

OEDIPUS. My son, O king, my hateful son, whose words Of all men’s most would jar upon my ears.

THESEUS. Thou sure mightest listen. If his suit offend, No need to grant it. Why so loth to hear him?

OEDIPUS. That voice, O king, grates on a father’s ears; I have come to loathe it. Force me not to yield.

THESEUS. But he hath found asylum. O beware, And fail not in due reverence to the god.

ANTIGONE. O heed me, father, though I am young in years. Let the prince have his will and pay withal What in his eyes is service to the god; For our sake also let our brother come. If what he urges tend not to thy good He cannot surely wrest perforce thy will. To hear him then, what harm? By open words A scheme of villainy is soon bewrayed. Thou art his father, therefore canst not pay In kind a son’s most impious outrages. O listen to him; other men like thee Have thankless children and are choleric, But yielding to persuasion’s gentle spell They let their savage mood be exorcised. Look thou to the past, forget the present, think On all the woe thy sire and mother brought thee; Thence wilt thou draw this lesson without fail, Of evil passion evil is the end. Thou hast, alas, to prick thy memory, Stern monitors, these ever-sightless orbs. O yield to us; just suitors should not need To be importunate, nor he that takes A favor lack the grace to make return.

OEDIPUS. Grievous to me, my child, the boon ye win By pleading. Let it be then; have your way Only if come he must, I beg thee, friend, Let none have power to dispose of me.

THESEUS. No need, Sir, to appeal a second time. It likes me not to boast, but be assured Thy life is safe while any god saves mine. [Exit THESEUS]

CHORUS. (Str.) Who craves excess of days, Scorning the common span Of life, I judge that man A giddy wight who walks in folly’s ways. For the long years heap up a grievous load, Scant pleasures, heavier pains, Till not one joy remains For him who lingers on life’s weary road And come it slow or fast, One doom of fate Doth all await, For dance and marriage bell, The dirge and funeral knell. Death the deliverer freeth all at last. (Ant.) Not to be born at all Is best, far best that can befall, Next best, when born, with least delay To trace the backward way. For when youth passes with its giddy train, Troubles on troubles follow, toils on toils, Pain, pain for ever pain; And none escapes life’s coils. Envy, sedition, strife, Carnage and war, make up the tale of life. Last comes the worst and most abhorred stage Of unregarded age, Joyless, companionless and slow, Of woes the crowning woe.

(Epode) Such ills not I alone, He too our guest hath known, E’en as some headland on an iron-bound shore, Lashed by the wintry blasts and surge’s roar, So is he buffeted on every side By drear misfortune’s whelming tide, By every wind of heaven o’erborne Some from the sunset, some from orient morn, Some from the noonday glow. Some from Rhipean gloom of everlasting snow.

ANTIGONE. Father, methinks I see the stranger coming, Alone he comes and weeping plenteous tears.

OEDIPUS. Who may he be?

ANTIGONE. The same that we surmised. From the outset—Polyneices. He is here. [Enter POLYNEICES]

POLYNEICES. Ah me, my sisters, shall I first lament My own afflictions, or my aged sire’s, Whom here I find a castaway, with you, In a strange land, an ancient beggar clad In antic tatters, marring all his frame, While o’er the sightless orbs his unkept locks Float in the breeze; and, as it were to match, He bears a wallet against hunger’s pinch. All this too late I learn, wretch that I am, Alas! I own it, and am proved most vile In my neglect of thee: I scorn myself. But as almighty Zeus in all he doth Hath Mercy for co-partner of this throne, Let Mercy, father, also sit enthroned In thy heart likewise. For transgressions past May be amended, cannot be made worse.

Why silent? Father, speak, nor turn away, Hast thou no word, wilt thou dismiss me then In mute disdain, nor tell me why thou art wrath? O ye his daughters, sisters mine, do ye This sullen, obstinate silence try to move. Let him not spurn, without a single word Of answer, me the suppliant of the god.

ANTIGONE. Tell him thyself, unhappy one, thine errand; For large discourse may send a thrill of joy, Or stir a chord of wrath or tenderness, And to the tongue-tied somehow give a tongue.

POLYNEICES. Well dost thou counsel, and I will speak out. First will I call in aid the god himself, Poseidon, from whose altar I was raised, With warrant from the monarch of this land, To parley with you, and depart unscathed. These pledges, strangers, I would see observed By you and by my sisters and my sire. Now, father, let me tell thee why I came. I have been banished from my native land Because by right of primogeniture I claimed possession of thy sovereign throne Wherefrom Etocles, my younger brother, Ousted me, not by weight of precedent, Nor by the last arbitrament of war, But by his popular acts; and the prime cause Of this I deem the curse that rests on thee. So likewise hold the soothsayers, for when I came to Argos in the Dorian land And took the king Adrastus’ child to wife, Under my standard I enlisted all The foremost captains of the Apian isle, To levy with their aid that sevenfold host Of spearmen against Thebes, determining To oust my foes or die in a just cause. Why then, thou askest, am I here today? Father, I come a suppliant to thee Both for myself and my allies who now With squadrons seven beneath their seven spears Beleaguer all the plain that circles Thebes. Foremost the peerless warrior, peerless seer, Amphiaraiis with his lightning lance; Next an Aetolian, Tydeus, Oeneus’ son; Eteoclus of Argive birth the third; The fourth Hippomedon, sent to the war By his sire Talaos; Capaneus, the fifth, Vaunts he will fire and raze the town; the sixth Parthenopaeus, an Arcadian born Named of that maid, longtime a maid and late Espoused, Atalanta’s true-born child; Last I thy son, or thine at least in name, If but the bastard of an evil fate, Lead against Thebes the fearless Argive host. Thus by thy children and thy life, my sire, We all adjure thee to remit thy wrath And favor one who seeks a just revenge Against a brother who has banned and robbed him. For victory, if oracles speak true, Will fall to those who have thee for ally. So, by our fountains and familiar gods I pray thee, yield and hear; a beggar I And exile, thou an exile likewise; both Involved in one misfortune find a home As pensioners, while he, the lord of Thebes, O agony! makes a mock of thee and me. I’ll scatter with a breath the upstart’s might, And bring thee home again and stablish thee, And stablish, having cast him out, myself. This will thy goodwill I will undertake, Without it I can scare return alive.

CHORUS. For the king’s sake who sent him, Oedipus, Dismiss him not without a meet reply.

OEDIPUS. Nay, worthy seniors, but for Theseus’ sake Who sent him hither to have word of me. Never again would he have heard my voice; But now he shall obtain this parting grace, An answer that will bring him little joy. O villain, when thou hadst the sovereignty That now thy brother holdeth in thy stead, Didst thou not drive me, thine own father, out, An exile, cityless, and make we wear This beggar’s garb thou weepest to behold, Now thou art come thyself to my sad plight? Nothing is here for tears; it must be borne By _me_ till death, and I shall think of thee As of my murderer; thou didst thrust me out; ’Tis thou hast made me conversant with woe, Through thee I beg my bread in a strange land; And had not these my daughters tended me I had been dead for aught of aid from thee. They tend me, they preserve me, they are men Not women in true service to their sire; But ye are bastards, and no sons of mine. Therefore just Heaven hath an eye on thee; Howbeit not yet with aspect so austere As thou shalt soon experience, if indeed These banded hosts are moving against Thebes. That city thou canst never storm, but first Shall fall, thou and thy brother, blood-imbrued. Such curse I lately launched against you twain, Such curse I now invoke to fight for me, That ye may learn to honor those who bear thee Nor flout a sightless father who begat Degenerate sons—these maidens did not so. Therefore my curse is stronger than thy “throne,” Thy “suppliance,” if by right of laws eterne Primeval Justice sits enthroned with Zeus. Begone, abhorred, disowned, no son of mine, Thou vilest of the vile! and take with thee This curse I leave thee as my last bequest:— Never to win by arms thy native land, No, nor return to Argos in the Vale, But by a kinsman’s hand to die and slay Him who expelled thee. So I pray and call On the ancestral gloom of Tartarus To snatch thee hence, on these dread goddesses I call, and Ares who incensed you both To mortal enmity. Go now proclaim What thou hast heard to the Cadmeians all, Thy staunch confederates—this the heritage that Oedipus divideth to his sons.

CHORUS. Thy errand, Polyneices, liked me not From the beginning; now go back with speed.

POLYNEICES. Woe worth my journey and my baffled hopes! Woe worth my comrades! What a desperate end To that glad march from Argos! Woe is me! I dare not whisper it to my allies Or turn them back, but mute must meet my doom. My sisters, ye his daughters, ye have heard The prayers of our stern father, if his curse Should come to pass and ye some day return To Thebes, O then disown me not, I pray, But grant me burial and due funeral rites. So shall the praise your filial care now wins Be doubled for the service wrought for me.

ANTIGONE. One boon, O Polyneices, let me crave.

POLYNEICES. What would’st thou, sweet Antigone? Say on.

ANTIGONE. Turn back thy host to Argos with all speed, And ruin not thyself and Thebes as well.

POLYNEICES. That cannot be. How could I lead again An army that had seen their leader quail?

ANTIGONE. But, brother, why shouldst thou be wroth again? What profit from thy country’s ruin comes?

POLYNEICES. ’Tis shame to live in exile, and shall I The elder bear a younger brother’s flouts?

ANTIGONE. Wilt thou then bring to pass his prophecies Who threatens mutual slaughter to you both?

POLYNEICES. Aye, so he wishes:—but I must not yield.

ANTIGONE. O woe is me! but say, will any dare, Hearing his prophecy, to follow thee?

POLYNEICES. I shall not tell it; a good general Reports successes and conceals mishaps.

ANTIGONE. Misguided youth, thy purpose then stands fast!

POLYNEICES. ’Tis so, and stay me not. The road I choose, Dogged by my sire and his avenging spirit, Leads me to ruin; but for you may Zeus Make your path bright if ye fulfill my hest When dead; in life ye cannot serve me more. Now let me go, farewell, a long farewell! Ye ne’er shall see my living face again.

ANTIGONE. Ah me!

POLYNEICES. Bewail me not.

ANTIGONE. Who would not mourn Thee, brother, hurrying to an open pit!

POLYNEICES. If I must die, I must.

ANTIGONE. Nay, hear me plead.

POLYNEICES. It may not be; forbear.

ANTIGONE. Then woe is me, If I must lose thee.

POLYNEICES. Nay, that rests with fate, Whether I live or die; but for you both I pray to heaven ye may escape all ill; For ye are blameless in the eyes of all. [Exit POLYNEICES]

CHORUS. (Str. 1) Ills on ills! no pause or rest! Come they from our sightless guest? Or haply now we see fulfilled What fate long time hath willed? For ne’er have I proved vain Aught that the heavenly powers ordain. Time with never sleeping eye Watches what is writ on high, Overthrowing now the great, Raising now from low estate. Hark! How the thunder rumbles! Zeus defend us!

OEDIPUS. Children, my children! will no messenger Go summon hither Theseus my best friend?

ANTIGONE. And wherefore, father, dost thou summon him?

OEDIPUS. This winged thunder of the god must bear me Anon to Hades. Send and tarry not.

CHORUS. (Ant. 1) Hark! with louder, nearer roar The bolt of Zeus descends once more. My spirit quails and cowers: my hair Bristles for fear. Again that flare! What doth the lightning-flash portend? Ever it points to issues grave. Dread powers of air! Save, Zeus, O save!

OEDIPUS. Daughters, upon me the predestined end Has come; no turning from it any more.

ANTIGONE. How knowest thou? What sign convinces thee?

OEDIPUS. I know full well. Let some one with all speed Go summon hither the Athenian prince.

CHORUS. (Str. 2) Ha! once more the deafening sound Peals yet louder all around If thou darkenest our land, Lightly, lightly lay thy hand; Grace, not anger, let me win, If upon a man of sin I have looked with pitying eye, Zeus, our king, to thee I cry!

OEDIPUS. Is the prince coming? Will he when he comes Find me yet living and my senses clear!

ANTIGONE. What solemn charge would’st thou impress on him?

OEDIPUS. For all his benefits I would perform The promise made when I received them first.

CHORUS. (Ant. 2) Hither haste, my son, arise, Altar leave and sacrifice, If haply to Poseidon now In the far glade thou pay’st thy vow. For our guest to thee would bring And thy folk and offering, Thy due guerdon. Haste, O King! [Enter THESEUS]

THESEUS. Wherefore again this general din? at once My people call me and the stranger calls. Is it a thunderbolt of Zeus or sleet Of arrowy hail? a storm so fierce as this Would warrant all surmises of mischance.

OEDIPUS. Thou com’st much wished for, Prince, and sure some god Hath bid good luck attend thee on thy way.

THESEUS. What, son of Laius, hath chanced of new?

OEDIPUS. My life hath turned the scale. I would do all I promised thee and thine before I die.

THESEUS. What sign assures thee that thine end is near?

OEDIPUS. The gods themselves are heralds of my fate; Of their appointed warnings nothing fails.

THESEUS. How sayest thou they signify their will?

OEDIPUS. This thunder, peal on peal, this lightning hurled Flash upon flash, from the unconquered hand.