Chapter 19

OD. I know what power shall thwart thee in the deed.

NEO. Whose will shall hinder me?

OD. The Achaean host And I among them.

NEO. Thou'rt sharp-witted, sure! But little wit or wisdom show'st thou here.

OD. Neither thy words nor thy design is wise.

NEO. But if 'tis righteous, that is better far.

OD. How righteous, to release what thou hast ta'en By my device?

NEO. I sinned a shameful sin, And I will do mine utmost to retrieve it.

OD. How? Fear'st thou not the Achaeans in this act?

NEO. In doing right I fear not them nor thee.

OD. I call thy power in question.

NEO. Then I'll fight, Not with Troy's legions, but with thee.

OD. Come on! Let fortune arbitrate.

NEO. Thou seest my hand Feeling the hilt.

OD. And me thou soon shalt see Doing the like and dallying not!--And yet I will not touch thee, but will go and tell The army, that shall wreak this on thy head. [_Exit_

NEO. Thou show'st discretion: which if thou preserve, Thou may'st maintain a path exempt from pain. Ho! son of Poeas, Philoctetes, come And leave thy habitation in the rock.

PHI. What noise again is troubling my poor cave? Why do ye summon me? What crave ye, sirs? Ha! 'tis some knavery. Are ye come to add Some monster evil to my mountainous woe?

NEO. Fear not, but hearken to what now I speak.

PHI. I needs must fear thee, whose fair words erewhile Brought me to bitter fortune.

NEO. May not men Repent and change?

PHI. Such wast thou in thy talk, When thou didst rob me of my bow,--so bright Without, so black within.

NEO. Ah, but not now, Assure thee! Only let me hear thy will, Is 't constant to remain here and endure, Or to make voyage with us?

PHI. Stop, speak no more! Idle and vain will all thine utterance be.

NEO. Thou art so resolved?

PHI. More firmly than I say.

NEO. I would I might have brought thee to my mind, But since my words are out of tune, I have done.

PHI. Thou wert best. No word of thine can touch my soul Or win me to thy love, who by deceit Hast reft my life away. And then thou com'st To school me,--of noblest father, basest son! Perish, the Atridae first of all, and then Laertes' child, and thou!

NEO. Curse me no more, But take this hallowed weapon from my hand.

PHI. What words are these? Am I again deceived?

NEO. No, by the holiest name of Zeus on high!

PHI. O voice of gladness, if thy speech be true!

NEO. The deed shall prove it. Only reach thy hand, And be again sole master of thy bow. [ODYSSEUS _appears_

OD. But I make protest, in the sight of Heaven, For Atreus' sons, and all the Achaean host.

PHI. Dear son, whose voice disturbs us? Do I hear Odysseus?

OD. Ay, and thou behold'st him nigh, And he shall force thee to the Trojan plain, Howe'er Achilles' offspring make or mar.

PHI. This shaft shall bear thee sorrow for that boast.

NEO. Let it not fly, by Heaven!

PHI. Dear child, let go Mine arm!

NEO. I will not. [_Exit_ ODYSSEUS

PHI. Ah! Why hast thou robbed My bow of bringing down mine enemy?

NEO. This were ignoble both for thee and me.

PHI. One thing is manifest, the first o' the host Lying forerunners of the Achaean band, Are brave with words, but cowards with the steel.

NEO. Well, now the bow is thine. Thou hast no cause For blame or anger any more 'gainst me.

PHI. None. Thou hast proved thy birthright, dearest boy. Not from the loins of Sisyphus thou earnest, But from Achilles, who in life was held Noblest of men alive, and now o' the dead.

NEO. It gladdens me that thou shouldst speak in praise Both of my sire and me. But hear me tell The boon for which I sue thee.--Mortal men Must bear such evils as high Heaven ordains; But those afflicted by self-chosen ills, Like thine to-day, receive not from just men Or kind indulgence or compassionate thought. And thou art restive grown, and wilt not hearken, But though one counsel thee with kind'st intent, Wilt take him for a dark malignant foe. Yet, calling Zeus to witness for my soul, Once more I will speak. Know this, and mark it well: Thou bear'st this sickness by a heavenly doom, Through coming near to Chrysa's sentinel, The lurking snake, that guards the sky-roofed fold[7]. And from this plague thou ne'er shall find reprieve While the same Sun god rears him from the east And droops to west again, till thou be come Of thine own willing mind to Troia's plain, Where our physicians, sons of Phoebus' child[8], Shall soothe thee from thy sore, and thou with me And with this bow shalt take Troy's citadel. How do I know this? I will tell thee straight We have a Trojan captive, Helenus, Both prince and prophet, who hath clearly told This must be so, yea, and ere harvest time This year, great Troy must fall, else if his words Be falsified, who will may slay the seer. Now, since thou know'st of this, yield thy consent; For glorious is the gain, being singled forth From all the Greeks as noblest, first to come To healing hands, and then to win renown Unrivalled, vanquishing all tearful Troy.

PHI. Oh how I hate my life! Why must it keep This breathing form from sinking to the shades? How can I prove a rebel to his mind Who thus exhorts me with affectionate heart? And yet, oh misery! must I give way? Then how could I endure the light of heaven? With whom could I exchange a word? Ay me! Eyes that have seen each act of my sad life, How could ye bear it, to behold the sons Of Atreus, my destroyers, comrades now And friends! Laertes' wicked son, my friend! And less I feel the grief of former wrong Than shudder with expectance of fresh harm They yet may work on me. For when the mind Hath once been mother of an evil brood, It nurses nought but evils. Yea, at thee I marvel. Thou should'st ne'er return to Troy, Nor suffer me to go, when thou remember'st What insult they have done thee, ravishing Thy father's rights from thee. And wilt thou then Sail to befriend them, pressing me in aid? Nay, do not, son; but, even as thou hast sworn, Convey me home, and thou, in Scyros dwelling, Leave to their evil doom those evil men. So thou shalt win a twofold gratitude From me and from my father, and not seem, Helping vile men, to be as vile as they.

NEO. 'Tis fairly spoken. Yet I would that thou Relying on my word and on Heaven's aid, Would'st voyage forth from Lemnos with thy friend.

PHI. Mean'st thou to Troy, and to the hateful sons Of Atreus, me, with this distressful limb?

NEO. Nay, but to those that will relieve the pain Of thy torn foot and heal thee of thy plague.

PHI. Thy words are horrible. What mean'st thou, boy?

NEO. The act I deem the noblest for us both.

PHI. Wilt thou speak so? Where is thy fear of Heaven?

NEO. Why should I fear, when I see certain gain?

PHI. Gain for the sons of Atreus, or for me?

NEO. Methinks a friend should give thee friendly counsel.

PHI. Friendly, to hand me over to my foes?

NEO. Ah, be not hardened in thy misery!

PHI. I know thou wilt ruin me by what thou speakest.

NEO. Not I. The case is dark to thee, I see.

PHI. I know the Atreidae cast me on this rock.

NEO. But how, if they should save thee afterward?

PHI. They ne'er shall make me see Troy with my will.

NEO. Hard is my fortune, then, if by no sleight Of reasoning I can draw thee to my mind. For me, 'twere easiest to end speech, that thou Might'st live on as thou livest in hopeless pain.

PHI. Then leave me to my fate!--But thou hast touched My right hand with thine own, and given consent To bear me to my home. Do this, dear son! And do not linger to take thought of Troy. Enough that name hath echoed in my groans.

NEO. If thou wilt, let us be going.

PHI. Nobly hast thou said the word.

NEO. Lean thy steps on mine.

PHI. As firmly as my foot will strength afford.

NEO. Ah! but how shall I escape Achaean anger?

PHI. Do not care!

NEO. Ah! but should they spoil my country!

PHI. I to shield thee will be there.

NEO. How to shield me, how to aid me?

PHI. With the shafts of Heracles I will scare them.

NEO. Give thy blessing to this isle, and come in peace.

HERACLES _appears from above._

HERACLES. First, son of Poeas, wait till thou hast heard The voice of Heracles, and weighed his word. Him thou beholdest from the Heavenly seat Come down, for thee leaving the blest retreat, To tell thee all high Zeus intends, and stay Thy purpose in the journey of to-day. Then hear me, first how after my long toils By strange adventure I have found and won Immortal glory, which thine eyes perceive; And the like lot, I tell thee, shall be thine, After these pains to rise to glorious fame. Sailing with this thy comrade to Troy-town, First thou shalt heal thee from thy grievous sore, And then, being singled forth from all the host As noblest, thou shalt conquer with that bow Paris, prime author of these years of harm, And capture Troy, and bear back to thy hall The choicest guerdon, for thy valour's meed, To Oeta's vale and thine own father's home. But every prize thou tak'st be sure thou bear Unto my pyre, in memory of my bow. This word, Achilles' offspring, is for thee No less. For, as thou could'st not without him, So, without thee, he cannot conquer Troy. Then, like twin lions hunting the same hill, Guard thou him, and he thee! and I will send Asclepius Troyward to relieve thy pain. For Ilion now a second time must fall Before the Herculean bow. But, take good heed, Midst all your spoil to hold the gods in awe. For our great Father counteth piety Far above all. This follows men in death, And fails them not when they resign their breath.

PHI. Thou whom I have longed to see, Thy dear voice is law to me.

NEO. I obey with gladdened heart.

HER. Lose no time: at once depart! Bright occasion and fair wind Urge your vessel from behind.

PHI. Come, let me bless the region ere I go. Poor house, sad comrade of my watch, farewell! Ye nymphs of meadows where soft waters flow Thou ocean headland, pealing thy deep knell, Where oft within my cavern as I lay My hair was moist with dashing south-wind's spray, And ofttimes came from Hermes' foreland high Sad replication of my storm-vext cry; Ye fountains and thou Lycian water sweet,-- I never thought to leave you, yet my feet Are turning from your paths,--we part for aye. Farewell! and waft me kindly on my way, O Lemnian earth enclosed by circling seas, To sail, where mighty Fate my course decrees, And friendly voices point me, and the will Of that heroic power, who doth this act fulfil.

CH. Come now all in one strong band; Then, ere loosing from the land, Pray we to the nymphs of sea Kind protectresses to be, Till we touch the Trojan strand.

* * * * *

OEDIPUS AT COLONOS

THE PERSONS

OEDIPUS, _old and blind._ ANTIGONE, _his daughter, a young girl._ ISMENE, _his daughter, a young girl._ CHORUS _of Village Guardians._ _An Athenian._ THESEUS, _King of Athens._ CREON, _Envoy from Thebes._ POLYNICES, _the elder son of Oedipus._ _Messenger._

SCENE. Colonos.

Oedipus had remained at Thebes for some time after his fall. But he was afterwards banished by the command of Creon, with the consent of his own sons. Their intention at first was to lay no claim to the throne. But by-and-by ambition prevailed with Eteocles, the younger- born, and he persuaded Creon and the citizens to banish his elder brother. Polynices took refuge at Argos, where he married the daughter of Adrastus, and levied an army of auxiliaries to support his pretensions to the throne of Thebes. Before going into exile Oedipus had cursed his sons.

Antigone after a while fled forth to join her father and support him in his wanderings. Ismene also once brought him secret intelligence.

Years have now elapsed, and the Delphian oracle proclaims that if Oedipus dies in a foreign land the enemies of Thebes shall overcome her.

In ignorance of this fact, Oedipus, now aged as well as blind, and led by his daughter Antigone, appears before the grove of the Eumenides, at Colonos, in the neighbourhood of Athens. He has felt an inward intimation, which is strengthened by some words of the oracle received by him long since at Delphi, that his involuntary crimes have been atoned for, and that the Avenging Deities will now receive him kindly and make his cause their own.

After some natural hesitation on the part of the village-councillors of Colonos, Oedipus is received with princely magnanimity by Theseus, who takes him under the protection of Athens, and defends him against the machinations of Creon.

Thus the blessing of the Gods, which Oedipus carried with him, is secured to Athens, and denied to Thebes. The craft of Creon and the prayers of Polynices alike prove unavailing. Then the man of many sorrows, whose essential nobleness has survived them all, passes away mysteriously from the sight of men.

The scene is laid at Colonos, a suburb of Athens much frequented by the upper classes, especially the Knights (see Thuc. viii. 67); and before the sacred grove of the Eumenides, or Gentle Goddesses, a euphemistic title for the Erinyes, or Goddesses of Vengeance.

OEDIPUS AT COLONOS

OEDIPUS. ANTIGONE.

OEDIPUS. Antigone, child of the old blind sire, What land is here, what people? Who to-day Shall dole to Oedipus, the wandering exile, Their meagre gifts? Little I ask, and less Receive with full contentment; for my woes, And the long years ripening the noble mind, Have schooled me to endure.--But, O my child, If thou espiest where we may sit, though near Some holy precinct, stay me and set me there, Till we may learn where we are come. 'Tis ours To hear the will of strangers and to obey.

ANTIGONE. Woe-wearied father, yonder city's wall That shields her, looks far distant; but this ground Is surely sacred, thickly planted over With olive, bay and vine, within whose bowers Thick-fluttering song-birds make sweet melody. Here then repose thee on this unhewn stone. Thou hast travelled far to-day for one so old.

OED. Seat me, my child, and be the blind man's guard.

ANT. Long time hath well instructed me in that.

OED. Now, canst thou tell me where we have set our feet?

ANT. Athens I know, but not the nearer ground.

OED. Ay, every man that met us in the way Named Athens.

ANT. Shall I go, then, and find out The name of the spot?

OED. Yes, if 'tis habitable.

ANT. It is inhabited. Yet I need not go. I see a man even now approaching here.

OED. How? Makes he towards us? Is he drawing nigh?

ANT. He is close beside us. Whatsoe'er thou findest Good to be spoken, say it. The man is here.

_Enter an_ Athenian.

OED. O stranger, learning from this maid, who sees Both for herself and me, that thou art come With timely light to clear our troubled thought--

ATHENIAN. Ere thou ask more, come forth from where thou sittest! Ye trench on soil forbidden human tread.

OED. What soil? And to what Power thus consecrate?

ATH. None may go near, nor dwell there. 'Tis possessed By the dread sisters, children of Earth and Night.

OED. What holy name will please them, if I pray?

ATH. 'All seeing Gentle Powers' the dwellers here Would call them. But each land hath its own rule.

OED. And gently may they look on him who now Implores them, and will never leave this grove!

ATH. What saying is this?

OED. The watchword of my doom.

ATH. Yet dare I not remove thee, till the town Have heard my purpose and confirm the deed.

OED. By Heaven, I pray thee, stranger, scorn me not, Poor wanderer that I am, but answer me.

ATH. Make clear thy drift. Thou'lt get no scorn from me.

OED. Then, pray thee, tell me how ye name the place Where now I sit.

ATH. The region all around Is sacred. For 'tis guarded and possessed By dread Poseidon, and the Titan mind That brought us fire--Prometheus. But that floor Whereon thy feet are resting, hath been called The brazen threshold of our land, the stay Of glorious Athens, and the neighbouring fields Are fain to honour for their patron-god Thee, O Colonos, first of Knights, whose name [_Pointing to a statue_ They bear in brotherhood and own for theirs. Such, friend, believe me, is this place, not praised In story, but of many a heart beloved.

OED. Then is the land inhabited of men?

ATH. By men, who name them from Colonos there.

OED. Have they a lord, or sways the people's voice?

ATH. Lord Theseus, child of Aegeus, our late king.

OED. Will some one of your people bring him hither?

ATH. Wherefore? What urgent cause requires his presence?

OED. He shall gain mightily by granting little.

ATH. Who can gain profit from the blind?

OED. The words These lips shall utter, shall be full of sight.

ATH. Well, thou look'st nobly, but for thy hard fate. This course is safe. Thus do. Stay where I found thee, Till I go tell the neighbour townsmen here Not of the city, but Colonos. They Shall judge for thee to abide or to depart. [_Exit_

OED. Tell me, my daughter, is the man away?

ANT. He is gone, father. I alone am near. Speak what thou wilt in peace and quietness.

OED. Dread Forms of holy Fear, since in this land Your sanctuary first gave my limbs repose, Be not obdurate to my prayer, nor spurn The voice of Phoebus, who that fateful day, When he proclaimed my host of ills to come, Told me of rest after a weary time, Where else but here? 'When I should reach my bourne, And find repose and refuge with the Powers Of reverend name, my troubled life should end With blessing to the men who sheltered me, And curses on their race who banished me and sent me wandering forth.' Whereof he vouched me Sure token, or by earthquake, or by fire From heaven, or thundrous voices. And I know Some aery message from your shrine hath drawn me With winged whisper to this grove. Not else Had ye first met me coming, nor had I Sate on your dread unchiselled seat of stone, With dry cold lips greeting your sober shrine. Then give Apollo's word due course, and give Completion to my life, if in your sight These toils and sorrows past the human bound Seem not too little. Kindly, gentle powers, Offspring of primal darkness, hear my prayer! Hear it, Athenai, of all cities queen, Great Pallas' foster-city! Look with ruth On this poor shadow of great Oedipus, This fading semblance of his kingly form.

ANT. Be silent now. There comes an aged band With jealous looks to know thine errand here.

OED. I will be silent, and thine arm shall guide My footstep under covert of the grove Out of the path, till I make sure what words These men will utter. Warily to observe Is the prime secret of the prudent mind. [_Exeunt_

CHORUS (_entering_). Keep watch! Who is it? Look! 1 Where is he? Vanished! Gone! Oh where? Most uncontrolled of men! Look well, inquire him out, Search keenly in every nook! --Some wanderer is the aged wight, A wanderer surely, not a native here. Else never had he gone within The untrodden grove Of these--unmarried, unapproachable in might, --Whose name we dare not breathe, But pass their shrine Without a look, without a word, Uttering the unheard voice of reverential thought. But now, one comes, they tell, devoid of awe, Whom, peering all around this grove I find not, where he abideth.

OED. (_behind_). Behold me! For I 'see by sound,' As mortals say.

CH. Oh, Oh! With horror I see him, with horror hear him speak.

OED. Pray you, regard me not as a transgressor!

CH. Defend us, Zeus! Who is that aged wight?

OED. Not one of happiest fate, Or enviable, O guardians of this land! 'Tis manifest; else had I not come hither Led by another's eyes, not moored my bark On such a slender stay.

CH. Alas! And are thine eyes 2 Sightless? O full of misery, As thou look'st full of years! But not, if I prevail, Shalt thou bring down this curse. Thou art trespassing. Yet keep thy foot From stumbling in that verdant, voiceless dell, Where running water as it fills The hallowed bowl, Mingles with draughts[1] of honey. Stranger, hapless one! Avoid that with all care. Away! Remove! Distance impedes the sound. Dost hear, Woe-burdened wanderer? If aught thou carest to bring Before our council, leave forbidden ground, And there, where all have liberty, Speak,--but till then, avaunt thee!

OED. Daughter, what must I think, or do?

ANT. My sire! We must conform us to the people's will, Yielding ere they compel.

OED. Give me thy hand.

ANT. Thou hast it.

OED. --Strangers, let me not Be wronged, when I have trusted you And come from where I stood!

CH. Assure thee, from this seat No man shall drag thee off against thy will.

OED. Farther?

CH. Advance thy foot.

OED. Yet more?

CH. Assist him onward Maiden, thou hast thy sight.

ANT. Come, follow, this way follow with thy darkened steps, Father, the way I am leading thee.

CH. Content thee, sojourning in a strange land, O man of woe! To eschew whate'er the city holds in hate, And honour what she loves!

OED. Then do thou lead me, child, Where with our feet secure from sin We may be suffered both to speak and hear. Let us not war against necessity.

CH. There! From that bench of rock Go not again astray.

OED. Even here?

CH. Enough, I tell thee.

OED. May I sit?

CH. Ay, crouch thee low adown Crooking thy limbs, upon the stone.

ANT. Father, this task is mine-- Sink gently down into thy resting-place,

OED. Woe is me!

ANT. Supporting on this loving hand Thy reverend aged form.

OED. Woe, for my cruel fate! [OEDIPUS _is seated_

CH. Now thou unbendest from thy stubborn ways, O man of woe! Declare, what mortal wight thou art, That, marked by troublous fortune, here art led. What native country, shall we learn, is thine?

OED. O strangers, I have none! But do not--

CH. What dost thou forbid, old sir?

OED. Do not, oh, do not ask me who I am, Nor probe me with more question.

CH. What dost thou mean?

OED. My birth is dreadful.

CH. Tell it forth.

OED. What should I utter, O my child? Woe is me!

CH. Thy seed, thy father's name, stranger, pronounce!

OED. Alas! What must I do? My child!

ANT. Since no resource avails thee, speak!

OED. I will. I cannot hide it further.

CH. Ye are long about it. Haste thee!

OED. Know ye of one Begotten of Laius?

CH. Horror! Horror! Oh!

OED. Derived from Labdacus?

CH. O Heaven!

OED. Fate-wearied Oedipus?

CH. Art thou he?

OED. Fear not my words.

CH. Oh! Oh!

OED. Unhappy me!

CH. Oh!

OED. Daughter, what is coming?

CH. Away! Go forth. Leave ye the land. Begone!

OED. And where, then, is the promise thou hast given?

CH. No doom retributive attends the deed That wreaks prevenient wrong. Deceit, matched with deceit, makes recompense Of evil, not of kindness. Get thee forth! Desert that seat again, and from this land Unmooring speed thee away, lest on our state Thou bring some further bale!

MONODY.