OEDIPUS: By the gods, stranger, don’t scorn my request,
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wanderer though I am, but answer my questions.
STRANGER: Speak up, and you’ll not meet with scorn from me.
OEDIPUS: What is this place in which we find ourselves?
STRANGER: Listen, and you’ll know as much as I do.
This whole region is sacred. It belongs
to dread Poseidon;*3 the fire-bearing god,
Titan Prometheus,*4 is also here. The ground
you walk upon is called the bronze-stepped
threshold of this land, bulwark of Athens,
and the local people boast that this horseman (pointing to the statue),
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Colonus,*5 settled them here, and claim they share
that name in common with him, and are known by it.
So it is, stranger—honored not in song
but in the hearts of those who live here.
OEDIPUS: There are people living in this place, then?
STRANGER: Yes, certainly, those named for this god.*6
OEDIPUS: Does someone rule them, or do they have a voice?
STRANGER: They’re ruled by the king, from the city.
OEDIPUS: Who is this king, who rules by word and might?
STRANGER: Theseus, son of Aegeus, who ruled before him.
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OEDIPUS: Can a messenger be sent from you to him?
STRANGER: Why? To say or to ask something for you?
OEDIPUS: To tell him “Small help may reap a big reward.”
STRANGER: And what could he gain from one who can’t see?
OEDIPUS: There will be sight in every word I say.
STRANGER: Listen, stranger, for your own good.
I see you are noble, though unlucky. Stay, then,
right here, till I’ve gone and told all this
to those who live here—not those in the city,
for it’s the people here who will decide
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if you’re to stay, or be on your way again.
(Exit Stranger, to the right.)
OEDIPUS: Has he gone, child, and left us to ourselves?
ANTIGONE: He has, Father. Now you may say anything,
and rest assured that only I will hear.
OEDIPUS: (addressing the shrine of the Furies)
O queens, dreadful to see, as yours
is the place I’ve come to first in all this land,
be not without feeling for me and Apollo
who, when he gave me all those dread oracles,*7
said this would be my respite in far time to come,
when I would reach my destination, and find
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the seat of the Awesome Goddesses,*8 and a haven,
and bring my life of sorrows to an end.
He said I’d be a blessing to those who welcomed me,
a curse on those who drove me off;
and signs would come, he said, confirming
all of this—earthquake, or thunder, or Zeus’ lightning.
I know now that no false omen from you
brought me along this path, into this grove,
for never, in my wandering, would I
have met you first, I who drink no wine
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and you who shun it;*9 I would not have sat
upon this holy seat, that no tool has wrought.
But, goddesses, fulfill Apollo’s words, grant me
a passage now, an end to life, unless
I seem beneath your notice, ever a slave
to the worst labors mortals have to bear.
Come, sweet daughters of ancient Darkness!
Come, Athens, most honored of all cities,
belonging, so they say, to mighty Pallas,*10
pity this wretched shadow of the man
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Oedipus—for this is not what I once was!
ANTIGONE: Silence! Someone’s coming—men, advanced
in years—to check on where you’ve taken refuge.
OEDIPUS: I’ll be silent, and you, be sure to hide me
in the grove, away from the road, until I’ve heard
what they will say. Once we’ve learned that,
we’ll have the means to act with caution.
(Oedipus, led by Antigone, retires into the grove, out of sight. The Chorus enter from the right, chanting the parodos or entry song in lyric meters.)
strophe 1
CHORUS: Look! Who was he? Where is he now?
Where has he run, out of this place, most
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insolent of men—of all men!
Go on, look, ask,
inquire everywhere! A wanderer,
the old man is a wanderer, not
one of us, else he’d never
have barged into this inviolable grove,
sacred to these fearsome maidens.
We tremble to name them,
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we pass them by without a look,
without a sound, moving our lips
in silent prayer, without a word—
but now we’re told someone has come
who has no reverence at all!
I’m scanning round about
the sacred grove, but cannot
find him: where is he?
(Oedipus, led by Antigone, emerges from the grove and addresses the Chorus.)*11
OEDIPUS: Here I am. I am he. I see by sound,
as the saying goes.
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CHORUS: iō, iō!—
dreadful to see, dreadful to hear!
OEDIPUS: Do not, I beg you, think me a criminal!
CHORUS: Zeus, Protector, who is this old man?
OEDIPUS: Not one with the choicest fate, not one
that you’d call blest, O guardians of this place.
You may see for yourselves: why else
would I grope my way, and use
another’s eyes, a full-grown man
tied to so slight an anchor!
antistrophe 1
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CHORUS: Ah! Were your eyes blind
even at birth? You’ve had a hard life
and a long one, I reckon.
But all the same, you shall not bring
down these curses*12 on me! For you’re
trespassing, trespassing!
But now—before you stumble
on the hushed, grassy
grove where water swirls
with streams of honey*13
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in its mixing bowl—
be careful! Step back,
withdraw, there must be
a great distance
between you and there!
Do you hear me, man of toils, wanderer?
If you have something to tell me,
leave that holy ground
and speak where all are allowed
to speak—but, till then, refrain!
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OEDIPUS: Daughter, what should we think of doing?
ANTIGONE: We must take care, Father, to do
what they do, and yield and listen to them.
OEDIPUS: Take my hand, now.
ANTIG.: Here, I’m holding it.
OEDIPUS: Strangers, may I not suffer wrong
for trusting you, and leaving this grove behind.
strophe 2
CHORUS: No one will ever lead you, old man,
against your will, away from this refuge.
OEDIPUS: Is this far enough, then?
CHOR.: Farther, come farther toward me.
OEDIPUS: Farther still?
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CHOR.: Lead him, girl, farther, toward me. I know you understand.
ANTIGONE: Follow me, Father, this way,
with blind steps, where I lead you
[…*14
…
…
…]
CHORUS: O sorrowful stranger in a strange land,
have the heart to hate whatever
>
the city hates, and to revere
what she reveres.
OEDIPUS: Bring me now, child, where
we may step without sacrilege,
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and speak and listen
and not battle with necessity.
antistrophe 2
CHORUS: There! Turn your step no further
than that ridge of native rock.
OEDIPUS: Here?
CHOR.: That’s enough, as I’ve said.
OEDIPUS: May I sit?
CHOR.: Yes, move to the side, on the edge of the stone, crouch down low.
ANTIGONE: Father, this task is mine. Fit
step to step—gently.
OEDIPUS: iō moi moi!
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ANTIGONE: Lean your aged body
on my loving arm.
OEDIPUS: ōmoi, the ruin, the madness!
(Oedipus sits down.)
CHORUS: Poor man, now that you’re at ease,
tell us who you are—who,
driven, laden with toil? What
country would you say is yours?*15
epode
OEDIPUS: Strangers, I’m an exile. But don’t—
CHORUS: What don’t you want to say, old man?
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OEDIPUS: —don’t, don’t ask me who
I am. Go no further with inquiries!
CHORUS: But why?
OED.: It’s terrible, my origin.
CHORUS: Speak out!
OEDIPUS: ōmoi, my child, what should I say?
CHORUS: Of whose seed are you?
Tell us, stranger: who is your father?
OEDIPUS: ōmoi, what will become of me now, my child?
CHORUS: Speak! You’re only a step away from it!
OEDIPUS: Well, I shall. I have no means of hiding.
CHORUS: Delaying again! Speak up, and quickly.
OEDIPUS: Do you know of a son of Laius?
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CHOR.: ō!
OEDIPUS: Know of the Labdacid*16 family?
CHOR.: ō, Zeus!
OEDIPUS: Of miserable Oedipus?
CHOR.: What? Are you he?
OEDIPUS: Don’t take fright at what I say.
CHORUS: iō! ō, ō!
OED.: My evil fate!
CHOR.: ō, ō!
OEDIPUS: Daughter, what, what will happen now?
CHORUS: Out of this land, out this moment!
OEDIPUS: What of your promise? How will you keep it?
CHORUS: There is no punishment for hurting
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in return for hurt; deceit
set against deceit
repays with pain, not gratitude.
But you—back, away from this refuge,
on your way again, leave my land at once,
lest you bring down on us
some further calamity!*17
ANTIGONE: O strangers, men of compassion,
since you could not accept
my aged father here, knowing
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the tale of what he did without willing it,
have pity on me at least, in my misery—
I am your suppliant, strangers, I appeal
to you on my suffering father’s behalf,
appeal with eyes not blind, eyes
fixed on yours, like one
of your own flesh and blood: let the poor man
meet with compassion! We the suffering
are in your hands, as in a god’s. Come, say yes
to a favor beyond our hopes!*18 Please, by all
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that you hold dear at home—a child, a wife,
a precious thing, a god.*19 Look everywhere
but you will not find a mortal man
who can escape when a god leads him on.
(The parodos ends, and the meter returns to iambic trimeter.)
CHORUS LEADER: You should know, child of Oedipus, we pity
you as much as him, for his misfortune,
but, since we fear the gods, we wouldn’t dare
say more to you than we have said just now.
OEDIPUS: What help, then, is there in glory
or in a good name, if it’s just a name?
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Athens, they say, is most reverent
toward the gods, alone able to save,
alone to aid the stranger in trouble—but what
is that to me? Just now you lured me
from my seat, and now you drive me away,
afraid of my name, nothing more—not, for sure,
of my person or my deeds. For you should know
those deeds were suffered more than done by me.
My parents (if I must bring them up)—they’re
the reason you dread me so. That’s clear! And yet,
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how am I myself evil, if I was repaying
what was done to me? I wouldn’t be
judged evil even if I’d acted knowingly!*20
But I went where I went in ignorance, while those
who tried to kill me knew what they were doing.*21
And so, strangers, I beseech you, by the gods:
as you’ve uprooted me, so must you save me
and not, even in honoring the gods, act
as if they’re blind! No; believe that they
see those who are pious among men
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and see those who are not, and that no
impious man has ever yet escaped them.
Accept their aid;*22 don’t shroud your blessed Athens
by covering its glory in unholiness!
Just as you’ve taken the suppliant
under your pledge, save and protect me. Do not
look on me with disdain, hard though I am
to look at. For I come, sacred and reverent
and as a boon for the people here.
But when your lord, your leader, has arrived,
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then will you hear and know all. But between
now and then, do not do me any harm!
CHORUS LEADER: We’ve many a reason, old man, to honor
these arguments of yours. They’ve been put
in words by no means unimpressive. All the same,
I’ll let the lords of this land decide this matter.
OEDIPUS: And where, friends, is the country’s ruler?
CHORUS LEADER: In the land’s ancestral city. A messenger—
the one who brought me here—has gone for him.
OEDIPUS: Do you really think he’ll feel some interest
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in a blind man, or care enough to come himself?
CHORUS LEADER: Yes, surely, the moment he hears your name.
OEDIPUS: And who will bring him word of that?
CHORUS LEADER: It’s a long way, and the talk of travelers
tends to circulate. Once he hears, he’ll come,
you can be sure. Your name, old man, is huge,
is everywhere, so even if he’s resting, tired,
when he hears it’s you, he’ll come at once.
OEDIPUS: Well, may he come with luck, for his city
and for me. A good man is his own friend.*23
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ANTIGONE: (looking offstage) Zeus! What shall I say? What does this mean, Father?
OEDIPUS: What is it, my child?
ANTIG.: I see a woman coming this way, riding an Aetnean colt*24
and, on her head, a Thessalian hat*25
with sun-shading brim circles her face.
What am I saying?*26
Is it she, or not? Are my wits still with me?
I say yes, and no, and don’t know what to say.
Poor fool,
it’s no one else! Yes, the brightness in her eyes
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as she approaches signals that
she is no other than our dear Ismene!
OEDIPUS: What do you mean?
ANTIG.: I see your daughter,
my sister!
Her voice makes it certain.
(Ismene enters from the left, accompanied by a servant.)
ISMENE: Father, sister—two names sweeter to me
than any! How hard it’s been to find you,
how hard to see you now, the pain it causes!
OEDIPUS: Child, you’ve come?
ISM.: Father, to see you like this!
OEDIPUS: Child, you’re here?
ISM.: Yes—exhausted, but here at last!
OEDIPUS: Come, touch me, my daughter!
ISM.: You and her together.
OEDIPUS: Children, sisters!
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ISM.: Misery, to live like this!
OEDIPUS: She and I?
ISM.: And I—the three of us.
OEDIPUS: Child, why have you come?
ISM.: For your sake, Father.
OEDIPUS: Eager to see me?
ISM.: Yes, and to report the news in person,
with the one servant I could trust.
OEDIPUS: Where are your brothers? No help from them?
ISMENE: They are—where they are. Things are bad between them now.
OEDIPUS: Those two! How like Egyptians
they’ve become, down to their bones, the very
lives they live. For in Egypt the men sit
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at home, working the loom while the women
toil for a living outside the house.*27 So they,
who should be shouldering these burdens,
are keeping house instead, like girls,
while you, my daughters, in their place,
take my sorrows on yourselves. She (gesturing toward Antigone),
from the time she outgrew a child’s nurture
and had the strength, has roamed, poor thing,
ever at my side, guiding me in my old age.
Wandering the wild woods, hungry, barefoot,
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struggling, often, in the rain, in the sun’s heat,
she thought life at home worth less
than seeing that her father’s needs were met.
(turning toward Ismene) And you, my child, came to my aid and brought me,
unknown to the Thebans, all the oracles
decreed about me, and loyally kept watch
when I was driven from the land.
But now, Ismene, what news have you brought
your father? What mission rouses you from home?
You’ve come for some purpose—of that
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I’m sure. It’s not, I hope, some cause of dread?
ISMENE: I’ll pass over and leave aside the ordeals
I’ve endured myself, searching for where
you might be living. Why suffer twice, telling
over now the pains I went through then?
I’ve come to tell you of the evils that are
just now besetting your two sons.
They had agreed to leave the throne to Creon*28
The Greek Plays Page 47