Offences, 'tis thine own we need to mend.
SHEPHERD.
Most gentle master, how do I offend?
OEDIPUS.
Whence came that babe whereof he questioneth?
SHEPHERD.
He doth not know ... 'tis folly ... what he saith.
OEDIPUS.
Thou wilt not speak for love; but pain maybe ...
SHEPHERD.
I am very old. Ye would not torture me.
OEDIPUS.
Back with his arms, ye bondmen! Hold him so.
[_The thralls drag back the_ SHEPHERD'S
_arms, ready for torture._
SHEPHERD.
Woe's me! What have I done?... What wouldst thou know?
OEDIPUS.
Didst give this man the child, as he doth say?
SHEPHERD.
I did.... Would God that I had died this day!
[Sidenote: vv. 1158-1167]
OEDIPUS.
'Fore heaven, thou shalt yet, if thou speak not true.
SHEPHERD.
'Tis more than death and darker, if I do.
OEDIPUS.
This dog, it seems, will keep us waiting.
SHEPHERD.
Nay,
I said at first I gave it.
OEDIPUS.
In what way
Came it to thee? Was it thine own child, or
Another's?
SHEPHERD.
Nay, it never crossed my door:
Another's.
OEDIPUS.
Whose? What man, what house, of these
About thee?
SHEPHERD.
In the name of God who sees,
Ask me no more!
OEDIPUS.
If once I ask again,
Thou diest.
SHEPHERD.
From the folk of Laïus, then,
It came.
[Sidenote: vv. 1168-1176]
OEDIPUS.
A slave, or born of Laïus' blood?
SHEPHERD.
There comes the word I dread to speak, O God!
OEDIPUS.
And I to hear: yet heard it needs must be.
SHEPHERD.
Know then, they said 'twas Laïus' child. But she
Within, thy wife, best knows its fathering.
OEDIPUS.
'Twas she that gave it?
SHEPHERD.
It was she, O King.
OEDIPUS.
And bade you ... what?
SHEPHERD.
Destroy it.
OEDIPUS.
Her own child?...
Cruel!
SHEPHERD.
Dark words of God had made her wild.
OEDIPUS.
What words?
[Sidenote: vv. 1176-1192]
SHEPHERD.
The babe must slay his father; so
'Twas written.
OEDIPUS.
Why didst thou, then, let him go
With this old man?
SHEPHERD.
O King, I pitied him.
I thought the man would save him to some dim
And distant land, beyond all fear.... And he,
To worse than death, did save him!... Verily,
If thou art he whom this man telleth of,
To sore affliction thou art born.
OEDIPUS.
Enough!
All, all, shall be fulfilled.... Oh, on these eyes
Shed light no more, ye everlasting skies
That know my sin! I have sinned in birth and breath.
I have sinned with Woman. I have sinned with Death.
[_He rushes into the Palace. The_ SHEPHERD
_is led away by the thralls._
CHORUS.
[_Strophe._
Nothingness, nothingness,
Ye Children of Man, and less
I count you, waking or dreaming!
And none among mortals, none,
Seeking to live, hath won
More than to seem, and to cease
Again from his seeming.
[Sidenote: vv. 1193-1212]
While ever before mine eyes
One fate, one ensample, lies--
Thine, thine, O Oedipus, sore
Of God oppressèd--
What thing that is human more
Dare I call blessèd?
[_Antistrophe._
Straight his archery flew
To the heart of living; he knew
Joy and the fulness of power,
O Zeus, when the riddling breath
Was stayed and the Maid of Death
Slain, and we saw him through
The death-cloud, a tower!
For that he was called my king;
Yea, every precious thing
Wherewith men are honoured, down
We cast before him,
And great Thebes brought her crown
And kneeled to adore him.
[_Strophe._
But now, what man's story is such bitterness to speak?
What life hath Delusion so visited, and Pain,
And swiftness of Disaster?
O great King, our master,
How oped the one haven to the slayer and the slain?
And the furrows of thy father, did they turn not nor shriek,
Did they bear so long silent thy casting of the grain?
[Sidenote: vv. 1213-1235]
[_Antistrophe._
'Tis Time, Time, desireless, hath shown thee what thou art;
The long monstrous mating, it is judged and all its race.
O child of him that sleepeth,
Thy land weepeth, weepeth,
Unfathered.... Would God, I had never seen thy face!
From thee in great peril fell peace upon my heart,
In thee mine eye clouded and the dark is come apace.
[_A_ MESSENGER _rushes out from the Palace._
MESSENGER.
O ye above this land in honour old
Exalted, what a tale shall ye be told,
What sights shall see, and tears of horror shed,
If still your hearts be true to them that led
Your sires! There runs no river, well I ween,
Not Phasis nor great Ister, shall wash clean
This house of all within that hideth--nay,
Nor all that creepeth forth to front the day,
Of purposed horror. And in misery
That woundeth most which men have willed to be.
LEADER.
No lack there was in what we knew before
Of food for heaviness. What bring'st thou more?
MESSENGER.
One thing I bring thee first.... 'Tis quickly said.
Jocasta, our anointed queen, is dead.
[Sidenote: vv. 1236-1260]
LEADER.
Unhappy woman! How came death to her?
MESSENGER.
By her own hand.... Oh, of what passed in there
Ye have been spared the worst. Ye cannot see.
Howbeit, with that which still is left in me
Of mind and memory, ye shall hear her fate.
Like one entranced with passion, through the gate
She passed, the white hands flashing o'er her head,
Like blades that tear, and fled, unswerving fled,
Toward her old bridal room, and disappeared
And the doors crashed behind her. But we heard
Her voice within, crying to him of old,
Her Laïus, long dead; and things untold
Of the old kiss unforgotten, that should bring
The lover's death and leave the loved a thing
Of horror, yea, a field beneath the plough
For sire and son: then wailing bitter-low
Across that bed of births unreconciled,
Husband from husband born and child from child.
And, after that, I know not how her death
Found her. For sudden, with a roar of wrath,
Burst Oedipus upon us. Then, I ween,
We marked no more what passion held the Queen,
But him, as in the fury of his stride,
"A sword! A sword! And show me here," he cried,
"That wife, no wife, that field of bloodstained earth
Where husband, father, sin on sin, had birth,
Polluted generations!" While he thus
Raged on, some god--for sure 'twas none of us--
Showed where she was; and with a shout away,
As though some hand had pointed to the prey,
[Sidenote: vv. 1261-1286]
He dashed him on the chamber door. The straight
Door-bar of oak, it bent beneath his weight,
Shook from its sockets free, and in he burst
To the dark chamber.
There we saw her first
Hanged, swinging from a noose, like a dead bird.
He fell back when he saw her. Then we heard
A miserable groan, and straight he found
And loosed the strangling knot, and on the ground
Laid her.--Ah, then the sight of horror came!
The pin of gold, broad-beaten like a flame,
He tore from off her breast, and, left and right,
Down on the shuddering orbits of his sight
Dashed it: "Out! Out! Ye never more shall see
Me nor the anguish nor the sins of me.
Ye looked on lives whose like earth never bore,
Ye knew not those my spirit thirsted for:
Therefore be dark for ever!"
Like a song
His voice rose, and again, again, the strong
And stabbing hand fell, and the massacred
And bleeding eyeballs streamed upon his beard,
Wild rain, and gouts of hail amid the rain.
Behold affliction, yea, afflictions twain
From man and woman broken, now made one
In downfall. All the riches yester sun
Saw in this house were rich in verity.
What call ye now our riches? Agony,
Delusion, Death, Shame, all that eye or ear
Hath ever dreamed of misery, is here.
LEADER.
And now how fares he? Doth the storm abate?
[Sidenote: vv. 1287-1308]
MESSENGER.
He shouts for one to open wide the gate
And lead him forth, and to all Thebes display
His father's murderer, his mother's.... Nay,
Such words I will not speak. And his intent
Is set, to cast himself in banishment
Out to the wild, not walk 'mid human breed
Bearing the curse he bears. Yet sore his need
Of strength and of some guiding hand. For sure
He hath more burden now than man may endure.
But see, the gates fall back, and that appears
Which he who loathes shall pity--yea, with tears.
[OEDIPUS _is led in, blinded and bleeding. The
Old Men bow down and hide their faces;
some of them weep._
CHORUS.
Oh, terrible! Oh, sight of all
This life hath crossed, most terrible!
Thou man more wronged than tongue can tell,
What madness took thee? Do there crawl
Live Things of Evil from the deep
To leap on man? Oh, what a leap
Was His that flung thee to thy fall!
LEADER.
O fallen, fallen in ghastly case,
I dare not raise mine eyes to thee;
Fain would I look and ask and see,
But shudder sickened from thy face.
OEDIPUS.
Oh, pain; pain and woe!
Whither? Whither?
[Sidenote: vv. 1308-1328]
They lead me and I go;
And my voice drifts on the air
Far away.
Where, Thing of Evil, where
Endeth thy leaping hither?
LEADER.
In fearful ends, which none may hear nor say.
OEDIPUS.
[_Strophe._
Cloud of the dark, mine own
For ever, horrible,
Stealing, stealing, silent, unconquerable,
Cloud that no wind, no summer can dispel!
Again, again I groan,
As through my heart together crawl the strong
Stabs of this pain and memories of old wrong.
LEADER.
Yea, twofold hosts of torment hast thou there,
The stain to think on and the pain to bear.
OEDIPUS.
[_Antistrophe._
O Friend, thou mine own
Still faithful, minister
Steadfast abiding alone of them that were,
Dost bear with me and give the blind man care?
Ah me! Not all unknown
Nor hid thou art. Deep in this dark a call
Comes and I know thy voice in spite of all.
LEADER.
O fearful sufferer, and could'st thou kill
Thy living orbs? What God made blind thy will?
[Sidenote: vv. 1329-1351]
OEDIPUS.
[_Strophe._
'Tis Apollo; all is Apollo,
O ye that love me, 'tis he long time hath planned
These things upon me evilly, evilly,
Dark things and full of blood.
I knew not; I did but follow
His way; but mine the hand
And mine the anguish. What were mine eyes to me
When naught to be seen was good?
LEADER.
'Tis even so; and Truth doth speak in thee.
OEDIPUS.
To see, to endure, to hear words kindly spoken,
Should I have joy in such?
Out, if ye love your breath,
Cast me swift unto solitude, unbroken
By word or touch.
Am I not charged with death,
Most charged and filled to the brim
With curses? And what man saith
God hath so hated him?
LEADER.
Thy bitter will, thy hard calamity,
Would I had never known nor looked on thee!
OEDIPUS.
[_Antistrophe._
My curse, my curse upon him,
That man whom pity held in the wilderness,
Who saved the feet alive from the blood-fetter
And loosed the barb thereof!
[Sidenote: vv. 1351-1377]
That babe--what grace was done him,
Had he died shelterless,
He had not laid on himself this grief to bear,
And all who gave him love.
LEADER.
I, too, O Friend, I had been happier.
OEDIPUS.
Found not the way to his father's blood, nor shaken
The world's scorn on his mother,
The child and the groom withal;
But now, of murderers born, of God forsaken,
Mine own sons' brother;
All this, and if aught can fall
Upon man more perilous
And elder in sin, lo, all
Is the portion of Oedipus.
LEADER.
How shall I hold this counsel of thy mind
True? Thou wert better dead than living blind.
OEDIPUS.
That this deed is not well and wisely wrought
Thou shalt not show me; therefore school me not.
Think, with what eyes hereafter in the place
Of shadows could I see my father's face,
Or my poor mother's? Both of whom this hand
Hath wronged too deep for man to understand.
Or children--born as mine were born, to see
Their shapes should bring me joy? Great God!
To me
[Sidenote: vv. 1378-1403]
There is no joy in city nor in tower
Nor temple, from all whom, in this mine hour,
I that was chief in Thebes alone, and ate
The King's bread, I have made me separate
For ever. Mine own lips have bid the land
Cast from it one so evil, one whose hand
To sin was dedicate, whom God hath shown
Birth-branded ... and my blood the dead King's own!
All this myself have proved. And can I then
Look with straight eyes into the eyes of men?
I trow not. Nay, if any stop there were
To dam this fount that welleth in mine ear
For hearing, I had never blenched nor stayed
Till this vile shell were all one dungeon made,
Dark, without sound. 'Tis thus the mind would fain
Find peace, self-prisoned from a world of pain.
O wild Kithairon, why was it thy will
To save me? Why not take me quick and kill,
Kill, before ever I could make men know
The thing I am, the thing from which I grow?
Thou dead King, Polybus, thou city wall
Of Corinth, thou old castle I did call
My father's, what a life did ye begin,
What splendour rotted by the worm within,
When ye bred me! O Crossing of the Roads,
O secret glen and dusk of crowding woods,
O narrow footpath creeping to the brink
Where meet the Three! I gave you blood to drink.
Do ye remember? 'Twas my life-blood, hot
From mine own father's heart. Have ye forgot
What deed I did among you, and what new
And direr deed I fled from you to do?
O flesh, horror of flesh!...
[Sidenote: vv. 1409-1431]
But what is shame
To do should not be spoken. In God's name,
Take me somewhere far off and cover me
From sight, or slay, or cast me to the sea
Where never eye may see me any more.
What? Do ye fear to touch a man so sore
Stricken? Nay, tremble not. My misery
Is mine, and shall be borne by none but me.
LEADER.
Lo, yonder comes for answer to thy prayer
Creon, to do and to decree. The care
Of all our land is his, now thou art weak.
OEDIPUS.
Alas, what word to Creon can I speak,
How make him trust me more? He hath seen of late
So vile a heart in me, so full of hate.
_Enter_ CREON.
CREON.
Not to make laughter, Oedipus, nor cast
Against thee any evil of the past
I seek thee, but ... Ah God! ye ministers,
Have ye no hearts? Or if for man there stirs
No pity in you, fear at least to call
Stain on our Lord the Sun, who feedeth all;
Nor show in nakedness a horror such
As this, which never mother Earth may touch,
Nor God's clean rain nor sunlight. Quick within!
Guide him.--The ills that in a house have been
They of the house alone should know or hear.
[Sidenote: vv. 1432-1447]
OEDIPUS.
In God's name, since thou hast undone the fear
Within me, coming thus, all nobleness,
To one so vile, grant me one only grace.
For thy sake more I crave it than mine own.
CREON.
Let me first hear what grace thou wouldst be shown.
OEDIPUS.
Cast me from Thebes ... now, quick ... where none may see
My visage more, nor mingle words with me.
CREON.
That had I done, for sure, save that I still
Tremble, and fain would ask Apollo's will.
OEDIPUS.
His will was clear enough, to stamp the unclean
Thing out, the bloody hand, the heart of sin.
CREON.
'Twas thus he seemed to speak; but in this sore
Strait we must needs learn surer than before.
OEDIPUS.
Thou needs must trouble God for one so low?
CREON.
Surely; thyself will trust his answer now.
OEDIPUS.
I charge thee more ... and, if thou fail, my sin
Shall cleave to thee.... For her who lies within,
[Sidenote: vv. 1448-1472]
Make as thou wilt her burial. 'Tis thy task
To tend thine own. But me: let no man ask
This ancient city of my sires to give
Harbour in life to me. Set me to live
On the wild hills and leave my name to those
Deeps of Kithairon which my father chose,
And mother, for my vast and living tomb.
As they, my murderers, willed it, let my doom
Find me. For this my very heart doth know,
No sickness now, nor any mortal blow,
Shall slay this body. Never had my breath
Been thus kept burning in the midst of death,
Save for some frightful end. So, let my way
Go where it listeth.
But my children--Nay,
Creon, my sons will ask thee for no care.
Men are they, and can find them everywhere
What life needs. But my two poor desolate
Maidens.... There was no table ever set
Apart for them, but whatso royal fare
I tasted, they were with me and had share
In all.... Creon, I pray, forget them not.
And if it may be, go, bid them be brought,
[CREON _goes and presently returns with the
two princesses._ OEDIPUS _thinks he is
there all the time._
That I may touch their faces, and so weep....
Go, Prince. Go, noble heart!...
If I might touch them, I should seem to keep
And not to have lost them, now mine eyes are gone....
What say I?
In God's name, can it be I hear mine own
[Sidenote: vv. 1473-1505]
Beloved ones sobbing? Creon of his grace
Hath brought my two, my dearest, to this place.
Is it true?
CREON.
'Tis true. I brought them, for in them I know
Thy joy is, the same now as long ago.
OEDIPUS.
God bless thee, and in this hard journey give
Some better guide than mine to help thee live.
Children! Where are ye? Hither; come to these
Arms of your ... brother, whose wild offices
Have brought much darkness on the once bright eyes
Of him who grew your garden; who, nowise
Seeing nor understanding, digged a ground
The world shall shudder at. Children, my wound
Is yours too, and I cannot meet your gaze
Now, as I think me what remaining days
Of bitter living the world hath for you.
What dance of damsels shall ye gather to,
What feast of Thebes, but quick ye shall turn home,
All tears, or ere the feast or dancers come?
And, children, when ye reach the years of love,
Who shall dare wed you, whose heart rise above
The peril, to take on him all the shame
That cleaves to my name and my children's name?
God knows, it is enough!...
My flowers, ye needs must die, waste things, bereft
And fruitless.
Creon, thou alone art left
Their father now, since both of us are gone
Who cared for them. Oh, leave them not alone
[Sidenote: vv. 1505-1518]
To wander masterless, these thine own kin,
And beggared. Neither think of them such sin
As ye all know in me, but let their fate
Touch thee. So young they are, so desolate--
Of all save thee. True man, give me thine hand,
And promise.
[OEDIPUS _and_ CREON _clasp hands._
If your age could understand,
Children, full many counsels I could give.
But now I leave this one word: Pray to live
As life may suffer you, and find a road
To travel easier than your father trod.
CREON.
Enough thy heart hath poured its tears; now back into
thine house repair.
OEDIPUS.
I dread the house, yet go I must.
CREON.
Fair season maketh all things fair.
OEDIPUS.
One oath then give me, and I go.
CREON.
Name it, and I will answer thee.
OEDIPUS.
To cast me from this land.
[Sidenote: vv. 1519-1523]
CREON.
A gift not mine but God's thou askest me.
OEDIPUS.
I am a thing of God abhorred.
CREON.
The more, then, will he grant thy prayer.
OEDIPUS.
Thou givest thine oath?
CREON.
I see no light; and, seeing not, I may not swear.
OEDIPUS.
Then take me hence. I care not.
CREON.
Go in peace, and give these children o'er.
OEDIPUS.
Ah no! Take not away my daughters!
[_They are taken from him._
CREON.
Seek not to be master more. Did not thy
masteries of old forsake thee when the end was near?
[Sidenote: vv. 1524-1530]
CHORUS.
Ye citizens of Thebes, behold; 'tis Oedipus that passeth here,
Who read the riddle-word of Death, and mightiest stood of mortal
men,
And Fortune loved him, and the folk that saw him turned and looked
again.
Lo, he is fallen, and around great storms and the outreaching sea!
Therefore, O Man, beware, and look toward the end of things that be,
The last of sights, the last of days; and no man's life account as gain
Ere the full tale be finished and the darkness find him without pain.
[OEDIPUS _is led into the house and the doors
close on him._
NOTES TO
OEDIPUS, KING OF THEBES
P. 4, l. 21: Dry Ash of Ismênus.]--Divination by burnt offerings was
practised at an altar of Apollo by the river Ismenus in Thebes.
Observe how many traits Oedipus retains of the primitive king, who was
at once chief and medicine-man and god. The Priest thinks it necessary
to state explicitly that he does not regard Oedipus as a god, but he is
clearly not quite like other men. And it seems as if Oedipus himself
realised in this scene that the oracle from Delphi might well demand the
king's life. Cf. p. 6, "what deed of mine, what bitter task, May save my
city"; p. 7, "any fear for mine own death." This thought, present
probably in more minds than his, greatly increases the tension of the
scene. Cf. _Anthropology and the Classics_, pp. 74-79.]
P. 7, l. 87, Message of joy.]--Creon says this for the sake of the omen.
The first words uttered at such a crisis would be ominous and tend to
fulfil themselves.]
Pp. 13-16, ll. 216-275. The long cursing speech of Oedipus.]--Observe
that this speech is broken into several divisions, Oedipus at each point
expecting an answer and receiving none. Thus it is not mere declamation;
it involves action and reaction between a speaker and a crowd.--Every
reader will notice how full it is of "tragic irony." Almost every
paragraph carries with it some sinister meaning of which the speaker is
unconscious. Cf. such phrases as "if he tread my hearth," "had but his
issue been more fortunate," "as I would for mine own father," and of
course the whole situation.
P. 25, l. 437, Who were they?]--This momentary doubt of Oedipus, who of
course regarded himself as the son of Polybus, King of Corinth, is
explained later (p. 46, l. 780).
Pp. 29 ff. The Creon scene.]--The only part of the play which could
possibly be said to flag. Creon's defence, p. 34, "from probabilities,"
as the rhetoricians would have called it, seems less interesting to us
than it probably did to the poet's contemporaries. It is remarkably like
Hippolytus's defence (pp. 52 f. of my translation), and probably one was
suggested by the other. We cannot be sure which was the earlier play.
The scene serves at least to quicken the pace of the drama, to bring out
the impetuous and somewhat tyrannical nature of Oedipus, and to prepare
the magnificent entrance of Jocasta.
P. 36, l. 630, Thebes is my country.]--It must be remembered that to the
Chorus Creon is a real Theban, Oedipus a stranger from Corinth.
P. 41, Conversation of Oedipus and Jocasta.]--The technique of this
wonderful scene, an intimate self-revealing conversation between husband
and wife about the past, forming the pivot of the play, will remind a
modern reader of Ibsen.
P. 42, l. 718.]--Observe that Jocasta does not tell the whole truth. It
was she herself who gave the child to be killed (p. 70, l. 1173).
P. 42, l. 730, Crossing of Three Ways.]--Cross roads always had dark
associations. This particular spot was well known to tradition and is
still pointed out. "A bare isolated hillock of grey stone stands at the
point where our road from Daulia meets the road to Delphi and a third
road that stretches to the south.... The road runs up a frowning pass
between Parnassus on the right hand and the spurs of the Helicon range
on the left. Away to the south a wild and desolate valley opens, running
up among the waste places of Helicon, a scene of inexpressible grandeur
and desolation" (Jebb, abridged).
P. 44, l. 754, Who could bring, &c.]--Oedipus of course thought he had
killed them all. See his next speech.
P. 51.]--Observe the tragic effect of this prayer. Apollo means to
destroy Jocasta, not to save her; her prayer is broken across by the
entry of the Corinthian Stranger, which seems like a deliverance but is
really a link in the chain of destruction. There is a very similar
effect in Sophocles' _Electra_, 636-659, Clytaemnestra's prayer; compare
also the prayers to Cypris in Euripides' _Hippolytus_.
P. 51, l. 899.]--Abae was an ancient oracular shrine in Boeotia; Olympia
in Elis was the seat of the Olympian Games and of a great Temple of
Zeus.
P. 52, l. 918, O Slayer of the Wolf, O Lord of Light.]--The names
Lykeios, Lykios, &c., seem to have two roots, one meaning "Wolf" and the
other "Light."
P. 56, l. 987, Thy father's tomb Like light across our darkness.]--This
ghastly line does not show hardness of heart, it shows only the terrible
position in which Oedipus and Jocasta are. Naturally Oedipus would give
thanks if his father was dead. Compare his question above, p. 54, l.
960, "Not murdered?"--He cannot get the thought of the fated murder out
of his mind.
P. 57, l. 994.]--Why does Oedipus tell the Corinthian this oracle, which
he has kept a secret even from his wife till to-day?--Perhaps because,
if there is any thought of his going back to Corinth, his long voluntary
exile must be explained. Perhaps, too, the secret possesses his mind so
overpoweringly that it can hardly help coming out.
Pp. 57, 58, ll. 1000-1020.]--It is natural that the Corinthian hesitates
before telling a king that he is really not of royal birth.