OED. What seek ye more to know?
CH. Thy father?
OED. O dismay! Ye wound me, blow on blow.
CH. Thy hand destroyed him.
OED. Yes. Yet lacks there not herein
A plea for my redress.
CH. How canst thou clear that sin?
OED. I'll tell thee. For the deed, 'twas proved mine,--Oh 'tis true!
Yet by Heaven's law I am freed:--I wist not whom I slew.
CH. Enough. For lo! where Aegeus' princely son,
Theseus, comes hither, summoned at thy word.
_Enter_ THESEUS.
THESEUS. From many voices in the former time
Telling thy cruel tale of sight destroyed
I have known thee, son of Laius, and to-day
I know thee anew, in learning thou art here.
Thy raiment, and the sad change in thy face,
Proclaim thee who thou art, and pitying thee,
Dark-fated Oedipus, I fain would hear
What prayer or supplication thou preferrest
To me and to my city, thou and this
Poor maid who moves beside thee. Full of dread
Must be that fortune thou canst name, which I
Would shrink from, since I know of mine own youth,
How in strange lands a stranger as thou art
I bore the brunt of perilous circumstance
Beyond all others; nor shall any man,
Like thee an alien from his native home,
Find me to turn my face from succouring him.
I am a man and know it. To-morrow's good
Is no more mine than thine or any man's.
OED. Thy noble spirit, Theseus, in few words
Hath made my task of utterance brief indeed.
Thou hast told aright my name and parentage
And native city. Nought remains for me
But to make known mine errand, and our talk
Is ended.
THE. Tell me plainly thy desire.
OED. I come to offer thee this woe-worn frame,
As a free boon,--not goodly in outward view.
A better gift than beauty is that I bring.
THE. What boon dost thou profess to have brought with thee?
OED. Thou shalt know by and by,--not yet awhile.
THE. When comes the revelation of thine aid?
OED. When I am dead, and thou hast buried me.
THE. Thou cravest the last kindness. What's between
Thou dost forget or else neglect.
OED. Herein
One word conveys the assurance of the whole.
THE. You sum up your petition in brief form.
OED. Look to it. Great issues hang upon this hour.
THE. Mean'st thou in this the fortune of thy sons
Or mine?
OED. I mean the force of their behest
Compelling my removal hence to Thebes.
THE. So thy consent were sought, 'twere fair to yield.
OED. Once I was ready enough. They would not then.
THE. Wrath is not wisdom in misfortune, man!
OED. Nay, chide not till thou knowest.
THE. Inform me, then!
I must not speak without just grounds.
OED. O Theseus,
I am cruelly harassed with wrong heaped on wrong.
THE. Mean'st thou that prime misfortune of thy birth?
OED. No. That hath long been rumoured through the world.
THE. What, then, can be thy grief? If more than that,
'Tis more than human.
OED. Here is my distress:--
I am made an outcast from my native land
By mine own offspring. And return is barred
For ever to the man who slew his sire.
THE. How then should they require thee to go near,
And yet dwell separate?
OED. The voice of Heaven
Will drive them to it.
THE. As fearing what reverse
Prophetically told?
OED. Destined defeat
By Athens in the Athenian land.
THE. What source
Of bitterness 'twixt us and Thebes can rise?
OED. Dear son of Aegeus, to the Gods alone
Comes never Age nor Death. All else i' the world
Time, the all subduer, merges in oblivion.
Earth and men's bodies weaken, fail, and perish.
Faith withers, breach of faith springs up and glows
And neither men nor cities that are friends
Breathe the same spirit with continuing breath.
Love shall be turned to hate, and hate to love
With many hereafter, as with some to-day.
And though, this hour, between great Thebes and thee
No cloud be in the heaven, yet moving Time
Enfolds a countless brood of days to come,
Wherein for a light cause they shall destroy
Your now harmonious league with severing war,
Even where my slumbering form, buried in death,
Coldly shall drink the life blood of my foes,
If Zeus be Zeus, and his son Phoebus true.
I would not speak aloud of mysteries.
Then let me leave where I began. Preserve
Thine own good faith, and thou shalt never say,
Unless Heaven's promise fail me, that for nought
Athens took Oedipus to dwell with her.
CH. My lord, long since the stranger hath professed
Like augury of blessings to our land.
THE. And who would dare reject his proffered good?
Whose bond with us of warrior amity
Hath ne'er been sundered,--and to day he comes
A God-sent suppliant, whose sacred hand
Is rich with gifts for Athens and for me.
In reverent heed whereof I ne'er will scorn
The boon he brings, but plant him in our land.
And if it please our friend to linger here,
Ye shall protect him:--if to go with me
Best likes thee, Oedipus,--ponder, and use
Thy preference. For my course shall join with thine.
OED. Ye Heavens, reward such excellence!
THE. How, then?
Is it thy choice now to go home with me?