[Sidenote: vv. 780-807]
Cried out at me that I was no true son Of Polybus. Oh, I was wroth! That one Day I kept silence, but the morrow morn I sought my parents, told that tale of scorn And claimed the truth; and they rose in their pride And smote the mocker.... Aye, they satisfied All my desire; yet still the cavil gnawed My heart, and still the story crept abroad. At last I rose--my father knew not, nor My mother--and went forth to Pytho's floor To ask. And God in that for which I came Rejected me, but round me, like a flame, His voice flashed other answers, things of woe, Terror, and desolation. I must know My mother's body and beget thereon A race no mortal eye durst look upon, And spill in murder mine own father's blood. I heard, and, hearing, straight from where I stood, No landmark but the stars to light my way, Fled, fled from the dark south where Corinth lay, To lands far off, where never I might see My doom of scorn fulfilled. On bitterly I strode, and reached the region where, so saith Thy tale, that King of Thebes was struck to death.... Wife, I will tell thee true. As one in daze I walked, till, at the crossing of three ways, A herald, like thy tale, and o'er his head A man behind strong horses charioted Met me. And both would turn me from the path, He and a thrall in front. And I in wrath Smote him that pushed me--'twas a groom who led The horses. Not a word the master said,
[Sidenote: vv. 808-828]
But watched, and as I passed him on the road Down on my head his iron-branched goad Stabbed. But, by heaven, he rued it! In a flash I swung my staff and saw the old man crash Back from his car in blood.... Then all of them I slew. Oh, if that man's unspoken name Had aught of Laius in him, in God's eye What man doth move more miserable than I, More dogged by the hate of heaven! No man, kin Nor stranger, any more may take me in; No man may greet me with a word, but all Cast me from out their houses. And withal 'Twas mine own self that laid upon my life These curses.--And I hold the dead man's wife In these polluting arms that spilt his soul.... Am I a thing born evil? Am I foul In every vein? Thebes now doth banish me, And never in this exile must I see Mine ancient folk of Corinth, never tread The land that bore me; else my mother's bed Shall be defiled, and Polybus, my good Father, who loved me well, be rolled in blood. If one should dream that such a world began In some slow devil's heart, that hated man, Who should deny him?--God, as thou art clean, Suffer not this, oh, suffer not this sin To be, that e'er I look on such a day! Out of all vision of mankind away To darkness let me fall ere such a fate Touch me, so unclean and so desolate!
[Sidenote: vv. 829-850]
LEADER.
I tremble too, O King; but till thou hear From him who saw, oh, let hope conquer fear.
OEDIPUS.
One shred of hope I still have, and therefore Will wait the herdsman's coming. 'Tis no more.
JOCASTA.
He shall come. But what further dost thou seek?
OEDIPUS.
This. If we mark him close and find him speak As thou hast, then I am lifted from my dread.
JOCASTA.
What mean'st thou? Was there something that I said...?
OEDIPUS.
Thou said'st he spoke of robbers, a great band, That slaughtered Laius' men. If still he stand To the same tale, the guilt comes not my way. One cannot be a band. But if he say One lonely loin-girt man, then visibly This is God's finger pointing toward me.
JOCASTA.
Be sure of this. He told the story so When first he came. All they that heard him know,
[Sidenote: vv. 850-870]
Not only I. He cannot change again Now. And if change he should, O Lord of men, No change of his can make the prophecy Of Laius' death fall true. He was to die Slain by my son. So Loxias spake.... My son! He slew no man, that poor deserted one That died.... And I will no more turn mine eyes This way nor that for all their prophecies.
OEDIPUS.
Woman, thou counsellest well. Yet let it not Escape thee. Send and have the herdsman brought.
JOCASTA.
That will I.--Come. Thou knowest I ne'er would do Nor think of aught, save thou wouldst have it so.
[JOCASTA _and_ OEDIPUS _go together into the Palace._
CHORUS.
[_They pray to be free from such great sins as they have just heard spoken of._
[_Strophe._
Toward God's great mysteries, oh, let me move Unstained till I die In speech or doing; for the Laws thereof Are holy, walkers upon ways above, Born in the far blue sky;
Their father is Olympus uncreate; No man hath made nor told Their being; neither shall Oblivion set
[Sidenote: vv. 870-893]
Sleep on their eyes, for in them lives a great Spirit and grows not old. [_Antistrophe._
[_They wonder if these sins be all due to pride and if_ CREON _has guilty ambitions;_
'Tis Pride that breeds the tyrant; drunken deep With perilous things is she, Which bring not peace: up, reeling, steep on steep She climbs, till lo, the rock-edge, and the leap To that which needs must be,
The land where the strong foot is no more strong! Yet is there surely Pride That saves a city; God preserve it long! I judge not. Only through all maze of wrong Be God, not man, my guide. [_Strophe._
[_Or if_ TIRESIAS _can really be a lying prophet with no fear of God; they feel that all faith in oracles and the things of God is shaken._
Is there a priest who moves amid the altars Ruthless in deed and word, Fears not the presence of his god, nor falters Lest Right at last be heard? If such there be, oh, let some doom be given Meet for his ill-starred pride, Who will not gain his gain where Justice is, Who will not hold his lips from blasphemies, Who hurls rash hands amid the things of heaven From man's touch sanctified.
In a world where such things be, What spirit hath shield or lance
[Sidenote: vv. 893-916]
To ward him secretly From the arrow that slays askance? If honour to such things be, Why should I dance my dance?
[_Antistrophe._
I go no more with prayers and adorations To Earth's deep Heart of Stone, Nor yet the Abantes' floor, nor where the nations Kneel at Olympia's throne, Till all this dark be lightened, for the finger Of man to touch and know. O Thou that rulest--if men rightly call Thy name on earth--O Zeus, thou Lord of all And Strength undying, let not these things linger Unknown, tossed to and fro.
For faint is the oracle, And they thrust it aside, away; And no more visible Apollo to save or slay; And the things of God, they fail As mist on the wind away.
[JOCASTA _comes out from the Palace followed by handmaids bearing incense and flowers._
JOCASTA.
Lords of the land, the ways my thought hath trod Lead me in worship to these shrines of God With flowers and incense flame. So dire a storm Doth shake the King, sin, dread and every form Of grief the world knows. 'Tis the wise man's way To judge the morrow by the yester day;
[Sidenote: vv. 917-933]
Which he doth never, but gives eye and ear To all who speak, will they but speak of fear. And seeing no word of mine hath power to heal His torment, therefore forth to thee I steal, O Slayer of the Wolf, O Lord of Light, Apollo: thou art near us, and of right Dost hold us thine: to thee in prayer I fall.
[_She kneels at the altar of Apollo Lukeios._
Oh, show us still some path that is not all Unclean; for now our captain's eyes are dim With dread, and the whole ship must follow him.
[_While she prays a_ STRANGER _has entered and begins to accost the Chorus._
STRANGER.
Good masters, is there one of you could bring My steps to the house of Oedipus, your King? Or, better, to himself if that may be?
LEADER.
This is the house and he within; and she Thou seest, the mother of his royal seed.
[JOCASTA _rises, anxious, from her prayer._
STRANGER.
Being wife to such a man, happy indeed And ringed with happy faces may she live!
JOCASTA.
To one so fair of speech may the Gods give Like blessing, courteous stranger; 'tis thy due. But say what leads thee hither. Can we do Thy wish in aught, or hast thou news to bring?
[Sidenote: vv. 934-947]
STRANGER.
Good news, O Queen, for thee and for the King.
JOCASTA.
What is it? And from what prince comest thou?
STRANGER.
I come from Corinth.--And my tale, I trow, Will give thee joy, yet haply also pain.
JOCASTA.
What news can have that twofold power? Be plain.
STRANGER.
'Tis spoke in Corinth that the gathering Of folk will make thy lord our chosen King.
JOCASTA.
How? Is old Polybus in power no more?
STRANGER.
Death has a greater power. His reign is o'er.
JOCASTA.
What say'st thou? Dead?... Oedipus' father dead?
STRANGER.