Masters of the Theatre

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by Delphi Classics


  And ne’er can stand enrolled as Creon’s man.

  Thus then I answer: since thou hast not spared

  To twit me with my blindness — thou hast eyes,

  Yet see’st not in what misery thou art fallen,

  Nor where thou dwellest nor with whom for mate.

  Dost know thy lineage? Nay, thou know’st it not,

  And all unwitting art a double foe

  To thine own kin, the living and the dead;

  Aye and the dogging curse of mother and sire

  One day shall drive thee, like a two-edged sword,

  Beyond our borders, and the eyes that now

  See clear shall henceforward endless night.

  Ah whither shall thy bitter cry not reach,

  What crag in all Cithaeron but shall then

  Reverberate thy wail, when thou hast found

  With what a hymeneal thou wast borne

  Home, but to no fair haven, on the gale!

  Aye, and a flood of ills thou guessest not

  Shall set thyself and children in one line.

  Flout then both Creon and my words, for none

  Of mortals shall be striken worse than thou.

  OEDIPUS

  Must I endure this fellow’s insolence?

  A murrain on thee! Get thee hence! Begone

  Avaunt! and never cross my threshold more.

  TEIRESIAS

  I ne’er had come hadst thou not bidden me.

  OEDIPUS

  I know not thou wouldst utter folly, else

  Long hadst thou waited to be summoned here.

  TEIRESIAS

  Such am I — as it seems to thee a fool,

  But to the parents who begat thee, wise.

  OEDIPUS

  What sayest thou— “parents”? Who begat me, speak?

  TEIRESIAS

  This day shall be thy birth-day, and thy grave.

  OEDIPUS

  Thou lov’st to speak in riddles and dark words.

  TEIRESIAS

  In reading riddles who so skilled as thou?

  OEDIPUS

  Twit me with that wherein my greatness lies.

  TEIRESIAS

  And yet this very greatness proved thy bane.

  OEDIPUS

  No matter if I saved the commonwealth.

  TEIRESIAS

  ’Tis time I left thee. Come, boy, take me home.

  OEDIPUS

  Aye, take him quickly, for his presence irks

  And lets me; gone, thou canst not plague me more.

  TEIRESIAS

  I go, but first will tell thee why I came.

  Thy frown I dread not, for thou canst not harm me.

  Hear then: this man whom thou hast sought to arrest

  With threats and warrants this long while, the wretch

  Who murdered Laius — that man is here.

  He passes for an alien in the land

  But soon shall prove a Theban, native born.

  And yet his fortune brings him little joy;

  For blind of seeing, clad in beggar’s weeds,

  For purple robes, and leaning on his staff,

  To a strange land he soon shall grope his way.

  And of the children, inmates of his home,

  He shall be proved the brother and the sire,

  Of her who bare him son and husband both,

  Co-partner, and assassin of his sire.

  Go in and ponder this, and if thou find

  That I have missed the mark, henceforth declare

  I have no wit nor skill in prophecy.

  [Exeunt TEIRESIAS and OEDIPUS]

  CHORUS

  (Str. 1)

  Who is he by voice immortal named from Pythia’s rocky cell,

  Doer of foul deeds of bloodshed, horrors that no tongue can tell?

  A foot for flight he needs

  Fleeter than storm-swift steeds,

  For on his heels doth follow,

  Armed with the lightnings of his Sire, Apollo.

  Like sleuth-hounds too

  The Fates pursue.

  (Ant. 1)

  Yea, but now flashed forth the summons from Parnassus’ snowy peak,

  “Near and far the undiscovered doer of this murder seek!”

  Now like a sullen bull he roves

  Through forest brakes and upland groves,

  And vainly seeks to fly

  The doom that ever nigh

  Flits o’er his head,

  Still by the avenging Phoebus sped,

  The voice divine,

  From Earth’s mid shrine.

  (Str. 2)

  Sore perplexed am I by the words of the master seer.

  Are they true, are they false? I know not and bridle my tongue for

  fear,

  Fluttered with vague surmise; nor present nor future is clear.

  Quarrel of ancient date or in days still near know I none

  Twixt the Labdacidan house and our ruler, Polybus’ son.

  Proof is there none: how then can I challenge our King’s good name,

  How in a blood-feud join for an untracked deed of shame?

  (Ant. 2)

  All wise are Zeus and Apollo, and nothing is hid from their ken;

  They are gods; and in wits a man may surpass his fellow men;

  But that a mortal seer knows more than I know — where

  Hath this been proven? Or how without sign assured, can I blame

  Him who saved our State when the winged songstress came,

  Tested and tried in the light of us all, like gold assayed?

  How can I now assent when a crime is on Oedipus laid?

  CREON

  Friends, countrymen, I learn King Oedipus

  Hath laid against me a most grievous charge,

  And come to you protesting. If he deems

  That I have harmed or injured him in aught

  By word or deed in this our present trouble,

  I care not to prolong the span of life,

  Thus ill-reputed; for the calumny

  Hits not a single blot, but blasts my name,

  If by the general voice I am denounced

  False to the State and false by you my friends.

  CHORUS

  This taunt, it well may be, was blurted out

  In petulance, not spoken advisedly.

  CREON

  Did any dare pretend that it was I

  Prompted the seer to utter a forged charge?

  CHORUS

  Such things were said; with what intent I know not.

  CREON

  Were not his wits and vision all astray

  When upon me he fixed this monstrous charge?

  CHORUS

  I know not; to my sovereign’s acts I am blind.

  But lo, he comes to answer for himself.

  [Enter OEDIPUS.]

  OEDIPUS

  Sirrah, what mak’st thou here? Dost thou presume

  To approach my doors, thou brazen-faced rogue,

  My murderer and the filcher of my crown?

  Come, answer this, didst thou detect in me

  Some touch of cowardice or witlessness,

  That made thee undertake this enterprise?

  I seemed forsooth too simple to perceive

  The serpent stealing on me in the dark,

  Or else too weak to scotch it when I saw.

  This thou art witless seeking to possess

  Without a following or friends the crown,

  A prize that followers and wealth must win.

  CREON

  Attend me. Thou hast spoken, ’tis my turn

  To make reply. Then having heard me, judge.

  OEDIPUS

  Thou art glib of tongue, but I am slow to learn

  Of thee; I know too well thy venomous hate.

  CREON

  First I would argue out this very point.

  OEDIPUS

  O argue not that thou art not a rogue.

  CREON

  If thou dost
count a virtue stubbornness,

  Unschooled by reason, thou art much astray.

  OEDIPUS

  If thou dost hold a kinsman may be wronged,

  And no pains follow, thou art much to seek.

  CREON

  Therein thou judgest rightly, but this wrong

  That thou allegest — tell me what it is.

  OEDIPUS

  Didst thou or didst thou not advise that I

  Should call the priest?

  CREON

  Yes, and I stand to it.

  OEDIPUS

  Tell me how long is it since Laius...

  CREON

  Since Laius...? I follow not thy drift.

  OEDIPUS

  By violent hands was spirited away.

  CREON

  In the dim past, a many years agone.

  OEDIPUS

  Did the same prophet then pursue his craft?

  CREON

  Yes, skilled as now and in no less repute.

  OEDIPUS

  Did he at that time ever glance at me?

  CREON

  Not to my knowledge, not when I was by.

  OEDIPUS

  But was no search and inquisition made?

  CREON

  Surely full quest was made, but nothing learnt.

  OEDIPUS

  Why failed the seer to tell his story then?

  CREON

  I know not, and not knowing hold my tongue.

  OEDIPUS

  This much thou knowest and canst surely tell.

  CREON

  What’s mean’st thou? All I know I will declare.

  OEDIPUS

  But for thy prompting never had the seer

  Ascribed to me the death of Laius.

  CREON

  If so he thou knowest best; but I

  Would put thee to the question in my turn.

  OEDIPUS

  Question and prove me murderer if thou canst.

  CREON

  Then let me ask thee, didst thou wed my sister?

  OEDIPUS

  A fact so plain I cannot well deny.

  CREON

  And as thy consort queen she shares the throne?

  OEDIPUS

  I grant her freely all her heart desires.

  CREON

  And with you twain I share the triple rule?

  OEDIPUS

  Yea, and it is that proves thee a false friend.

  CREON

  Not so, if thou wouldst reason with thyself,

  As I with myself. First, I bid thee think,

  Would any mortal choose a troubled reign

  Of terrors rather than secure repose,

  If the same power were given him? As for me,

  I have no natural craving for the name

  Of king, preferring to do kingly deeds,

  And so thinks every sober-minded man.

  Now all my needs are satisfied through thee,

  And I have naught to fear; but were I king,

  My acts would oft run counter to my will.

  How could a title then have charms for me

  Above the sweets of boundless influence?

  I am not so infatuate as to grasp

  The shadow when I hold the substance fast.

  Now all men cry me Godspeed! wish me well,

  And every suitor seeks to gain my ear,

  If he would hope to win a grace from thee.

  Why should I leave the better, choose the worse?

  That were sheer madness, and I am not mad.

  No such ambition ever tempted me,

  Nor would I have a share in such intrigue.

  And if thou doubt me, first to Delphi go,

  There ascertain if my report was true

  Of the god’s answer; next investigate

  If with the seer I plotted or conspired,

  And if it prove so, sentence me to death,

  Not by thy voice alone, but mine and thine.

  But O condemn me not, without appeal,

  On bare suspicion. ’Tis not right to adjudge

  Bad men at random good, or good men bad.

  I would as lief a man should cast away

  The thing he counts most precious, his own life,

  As spurn a true friend. Thou wilt learn in time

  The truth, for time alone reveals the just;

  A villain is detected in a day.

  CHORUS

  To one who walketh warily his words

  Commend themselves; swift counsels are not sure.

  OEDIPUS

  When with swift strides the stealthy plotter stalks

  I must be quick too with my counterplot.

  To wait his onset passively, for him

  Is sure success, for me assured defeat.

  CREON

  What then’s thy will? To banish me the land?

  OEDIPUS

  I would not have thee banished, no, but dead,

  That men may mark the wages envy reaps.

  CREON

  I see thou wilt not yield, nor credit me.

  OEDIPUS

  [None but a fool would credit such as thou.] 3

  CREON

  Thou art not wise.

  OEDIPUS

  Wise for myself at least.

  CREON

  Why not for me too?

  OEDIPUS

  Why for such a knave?

  CREON

  Suppose thou lackest sense.

  OEDIPUS

  Yet kings must rule.

  CREON

  Not if they rule ill.

  OEDIPUS

  Oh my Thebans, hear him!

  CREON

  Thy Thebans? am not I a Theban too?

  CHORUS

  Cease, princes; lo there comes, and none too soon,

  Jocasta from the palace. Who so fit

  As peacemaker to reconcile your feud?

  [Enter JOCASTA.]

  JOCASTA

  Misguided princes, why have ye upraised

  This wordy wrangle? Are ye not ashamed,

  While the whole land lies striken, thus to voice

  Your private injuries? Go in, my lord;

  Go home, my brother, and forebear to make

  A public scandal of a petty grief.

  CREON

  My royal sister, Oedipus, thy lord,

  Hath bid me choose (O dread alternative!)

  An outlaw’s exile or a felon’s death.

  OEDIPUS

  Yes, lady; I have caught him practicing

  Against my royal person his vile arts.

  CREON

  May I ne’er speed but die accursed, if I

  In any way am guilty of this charge.

  JOCASTA

  Believe him, I adjure thee, Oedipus,

  First for his solemn oath’s sake, then for mine,

  And for thine elders’ sake who wait on thee.

  CHORUS

  (Str. 1)

  Hearken, King, reflect, we pray thee, but not stubborn but relent.

  OEDIPUS

  Say to what should I consent?

  CHORUS

  Respect a man whose probity and troth

  Are known to all and now confirmed by oath.

  OEDIPUS

  Dost know what grace thou cravest?

  CHORUS

  Yea, I know.

  OEDIPUS

  Declare it then and make thy meaning plain.

  CHORUS

  Brand not a friend whom babbling tongues assail;

  Let not suspicion ‘gainst his oath prevail.

  OEDIPUS

  Bethink you that in seeking this ye seek

  In very sooth my death or banishment?

  CHORUS

  No, by the leader of the host divine!

  (Str. 2)

  Witness, thou Sun, such thought was never mine,

  Unblest, unfriended may I perish,

  If ever I such wish did cherish!

  But O my heart is desolate

  Musing on our strike
n State,

  Doubly fall’n should discord grow

  Twixt you twain, to crown our woe.

  OEDIPUS

  Well, let him go, no matter what it cost me,

  Or certain death or shameful banishment,

  For your sake I relent, not his; and him,

  Where’er he be, my heart shall still abhor.

  CREON

  Thou art as sullen in thy yielding mood

  As in thine anger thou wast truculent.

  Such tempers justly plague themselves the most.

  OEDIPUS

  Leave me in peace and get thee gone.

  CREON

  I go,

  By thee misjudged, but justified by these.

  [Exeunt CREON]

  CHORUS

  (Ant. 1)

  Lady, lead indoors thy consort; wherefore longer here delay?

  JOCASTA

  Tell me first how rose the fray.

  CHORUS

  Rumors bred unjust suspicious and injustice rankles sore.

  JOCASTA

  Were both at fault?

  CHORUS

  Both.

  JOCASTA

  What was the tale?

  CHORUS

  Ask me no more. The land is sore distressed;

  ‘Twere better sleeping ills to leave at rest.

  OEDIPUS

  Strange counsel, friend! I know thou mean’st me well,

  And yet would’st mitigate and blunt my zeal.

  CHORUS

  (Ant. 2)

  King, I say it once again,

  Witless were I proved, insane,

  If I lightly put away

  Thee my country’s prop and stay,

  Pilot who, in danger sought,

  To a quiet haven brought

  Our distracted State; and now

  Who can guide us right but thou?

  JOCASTA

  Let me too, I adjure thee, know, O king,

  What cause has stirred this unrelenting wrath.

  OEDIPUS

  I will, for thou art more to me than these.

  Lady, the cause is Creon and his plots.

  JOCASTA

  But what provoked the quarrel? make this clear.

  OEDIPUS

  He points me out as Laius’ murderer.

  JOCASTA

  Of his own knowledge or upon report?

  OEDIPUS

  He is too cunning to commit himself,

  And makes a mouthpiece of a knavish seer.

  JOCASTA

  Then thou mayest ease thy conscience on that score.

  Listen and I’ll convince thee that no man

  Hath scot or lot in the prophetic art.

  Here is the proof in brief. An oracle

  Once came to Laius (I will not say

  ’Twas from the Delphic god himself, but from

  His ministers) declaring he was doomed

  To perish by the hand of his own son,

  A child that should be born to him by me.

  Now Laius — so at least report affirmed —

  Was murdered on a day by highwaymen,

  No natives, at a spot where three roads meet.

  As for the child, it was but three days old,

  When Laius, its ankles pierced and pinned

 

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