Oedipus Trilogy Part 11

For, had I sight, I know not with what eyes I could have met my father in the shades, Or my poor mother, since against the twain I sinned, a sin no gallows could atone.

Aye, but, ye say, the sight of children joys A parent's eyes. What, born as mine were born?

No, such a sight could never bring me joy; Nor this fair city with its battlements, Its temples and the statues of its G.o.ds, Sights from which I, now wretchedst of all, Once ranked the foremost Theban in all Thebes, By my own sentence am cut off, condemned By my own proclamation 'gainst the wretch, The miscreant by heaven itself declared Unclean--and of the race of Laius.

Thus branded as a felon by myself, How had I dared to look you in the face?

Nay, had I known a way to choke the springs Of hearing, I had never shrunk to make A dungeon of this miserable frame, Cut off from sight and hearing; for 'tis bliss to bide in regions sorrow cannot reach.

Why didst thou harbor me, Cithaeron, why Didst thou not take and slay me? Then I never Had shown to men the secret of my birth.

O Polybus, O Corinth, O my home, Home of my ancestors (so wast thou called) How fair a nursling then I seemed, how foul The canker that lay festering in the bud!

Now is the blight revealed of root and fruit.

Ye triple high-roads, and thou hidden glen, Coppice, and pa.s.s where meet the three-branched ways, Ye drank my blood, the life-blood these hands spilt, My father's; do ye call to mind perchance Those deeds of mine ye witnessed and the work I wrought thereafter when I came to Thebes?

O fatal wedlock, thou didst give me birth, And, having borne me, sowed again my seed, Mingling the blood of fathers, brothers, children, Brides, wives and mothers, an incestuous brood, All horrors that are wrought beneath the sun, Horrors so foul to name them were unmeet.

O, I adjure you, hide me anywhere Far from this land, or slay me straight, or cast me Down to the depths of ocean out of sight.

Come hither, deign to touch an abject wretch; Draw near and fear not; I myself must bear The load of guilt that none but I can share.

[Enter CREON.]

CREON Lo, here is Creon, the one man to grant Thy prayer by action or advice, for he Is left the State's sole guardian in thy stead.

OEDIPUS Ah me! what words to accost him can I find?

What cause has he to trust me? In the past I have bee proved his rancorous enemy.

CREON Not in derision, Oedipus, I come Nor to upbraid thee with thy past misdeeds.

(To BYSTANDERS) But shame upon you! if ye feel no sense Of human decencies, at least revere The Sun whose light beholds and nurtures all.

Leave not thus nakedly for all to gaze at A horror neither earth nor rain from heaven Nor light will suffer. Lead him straight within, For it is seemly that a kinsman's woes Be heard by kin and seen by kin alone.

OEDIPUS O listen, since thy presence comes to me A shock of glad surprise--so n.o.ble thou, And I so vile--O grant me one small boon.

I ask it not on my behalf, but thine.

CREON And what the favor thou wouldst crave of me?

OEDIPUS Forth from thy borders thrust me with all speed; Set me within some vasty desert where No mortal voice shall greet me any more.

CREON This had I done already, but I deemed It first behooved me to consult the G.o.d.

OEDIPUS His will was set forth fully--to destroy The parricide, the scoundrel; and I am he.

CREON Yea, so he spake, but in our present plight 'Twere better to consult the G.o.d anew.

OEDIPUS Dare ye inquire concerning such a wretch?

CREON Yea, for thyself wouldst credit now his word.

OEDIPUS Aye, and on thee in all humility I lay this charge: let her who lies within Receive such burial as thou shalt ordain; Such rites 'tis thine, as brother, to perform.

But for myself, O never let my Thebes, The city of my sires, be doomed to bear The burden of my presence while I live.

No, let me be a dweller on the hills, On yonder mount Cithaeron, famed as mine, My tomb predestined for me by my sire And mother, while they lived, that I may die Slain as they sought to slay me, when alive.

This much I know full surely, nor disease Shall end my days, nor any common chance; For I had ne'er been s.n.a.t.c.hed from death, unless I was predestined to some awful doom.

So be it. I reck not how Fate deals with me But my unhappy children--for my sons Be not concerned, O Creon, they are men, And for themselves, where'er they be, can fend.

But for my daughters twain, poor innocent maids, Who ever sat beside me at the board Sharing my viands, drinking of my cup, For them, I pray thee, care, and, if thou willst, O might I feel their touch and make my moan.

Hear me, O prince, my n.o.ble-hearted prince!

Could I but blindly touch them with my hands I'd think they still were mine, as when I saw.

[ANTIGONE and ISMENE are led in.]

What say I? can it be my pretty ones Whose sobs I hear? Has Creon pitied me And sent me my two darlings? Can this be?

CREON 'Tis true; 'twas I procured thee this delight, Knowing the joy they were to thee of old.

OEDIPUS G.o.d speed thee! and as meed for bringing them May Providence deal with thee kindlier Than it has dealt with me! O children mine, Where are ye? Let me clasp you with these hands, A brother's hands, a father's; hands that made Lack-l.u.s.ter sockets of his once bright eyes; Hands of a man who blindly, recklessly, Became your sire by her from whom he sprang.

Though I cannot behold you, I must weep In thinking of the evil days to come, The slights and wrongs that men will put upon you.

Where'er ye go to feast or festival, No merrymaking will it prove for you, But oft abashed in tears ye will return.

And when ye come to marriageable years, Where's the bold wooers who will jeopardize To take unto himself such disrepute As to my children's children still must cling, For what of infamy is lacking here?

"Their father slew his father, sowed the seed Where he himself was gendered, and begat These maidens at the source wherefrom he sprang."

Such are the gibes that men will cast at you.

Who then will wed you? None, I ween, but ye Must pine, poor maids, in single barrenness.

O Prince, Menoeceus' son, to thee, I turn, With the it rests to father them, for we Their natural parents, both of us, are lost.

O leave them not to wander poor, unwed, Thy kin, nor let them share my low estate.

O pity them so young, and but for thee All dest.i.tute. Thy hand upon it, Prince.

To you, my children I had much to say, Were ye but ripe to hear. Let this suffice: Pray ye may find some home and live content, And may your lot prove happier than your sire's.

CREON Thou hast had enough of weeping; pa.s.s within.

OEDIPUS I must obey, Though 'tis grievous.

CREON Weep not, everything must have its day.

OEDIPUS Well I go, but on conditions.

CREON What thy terms for going, say.

OEDIPUS Send me from the land an exile.

CREON Ask this of the G.o.ds, not me.

OEDIPUS But I am the G.o.ds' abhorrence.

CREON Then they soon will grant thy plea.

OEDIPUS Lead me hence, then, I am willing.

CREON Come, but let thy children go.

OEDIPUS Rob me not of these my children!

CREON Crave not mastery in all, For the mastery that raised thee was thy bane and wrought thy fall.

CHORUS Look ye, countrymen and Thebans, this is Oedipus the great, He who knew the Sphinx's riddle and was mightiest in our state.

Who of all our townsmen gazed not on his fame with envious eyes?

Now, in what a sea of troubles sunk and overwhelmed he lies!

Therefore wait to see life's ending ere thou count one mortal blest; Wait till free from pain and sorrow he has gained his final rest.

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