# Tragedies of Euripides (Way)/The Phoenician Maidens

The Phoenician Maidens is a Greek tragedy written by Euripides. This English translation was done by Arthur S. Way. It was first published in London in 1898, in Volume III of The Tragedies of Euripides, in English verse.
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THE PHŒNICIAN MAIDENS.
ARGUMENT.
When Oedipus, king of Thebes, was ware that he had fulfilled the oracle uttered ere he was born, in that he had slain his father, king Laius, and wedded his mother Jocasta, he plucked out his own eyes in his shame and misery. So he ceased to be king; but, inasmuch as his two sons rendered to him neither love nor worship, he cursed them with this curse, "that they should divide their inheritance with the sword." But they essayed to escape this doom by covenanting to rule in turn, year by year. So Eteokles, being the elder, became king for the first year, and Polyneikes his brother departed from the land, lest any occasion of offence should arise. But when after a year's space he returned, Eteokles refused to yield to him the kingdom. Then went he to Adrastus, king of Argos, who gave him his daughter to wife, and led forth a host of war under seven chiefs against Thebes.
And herein is told how the brothers met in useless parley; by what strange sacrifice Thebes was saved; of the Argives' vain assault; and how the brothers slew each other in single combat.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
Jocasta, wife of Oedipus.
Old Servant, attendant on Antigonê.
Antigone, daughter of Oedipus.
Polyneikes, exiled son of Oedipus.
Eteokles, son of Oedipus, and king of Thebes.
Kreon, brother of Jocasta.
Teiresias, a blind prophet.
Menoikeus, son of Kreon.
Messenger, armour-bearer of Eteokles.
Oedipus, father of Eteokles and Polyneikes.
Chorus, consisting of Phœnician Maidens, dedicated by the Tyrians to the service of Apollo at Delphi, who, resting at Thebes on their journey, have been detained there by the siege.
Daughter of Teiresias, guards of Eteokles, attendants of Jocasta and of Kreon.
Scene:—In front of the Royal Palace at Thebes.
THE PHŒNICIAN MAIDENS.
Enter Jocasta.
Jocasta.
O thou from who cleav'st thy path mid heaven's stars, Who ridest on thy chariot golden-clamped, Sun, whirling on with flying steeds thy fire, What beams accurst on that day sheddest thou O'er Thebes, when Kadmus came to this our land,5 Leaving Phœnicia's sea-fringed realm afar! He took to wife Harmonia, Kypris' child, And begat Polydore, of whom, men say, Sprang Labdakus, and Laïus of him. I, daughter of Menoikeus am I named;10 My brother Kreon the selfsame mother bare. Jocasta men call me: this name my sire Gave; Laïus wedded me. But when long years Of wedlock brought no child our halls within, He went and questioned Phœbus, craved withal15 For me, for him, male heirs unto his house. The God spake: "King of chariot-glorious Thebes, Beget not seed of sons in Heaven's despite. If so thou do, thee shall thine issue slay, And all thine house shall wade through seas of blood."20 Yet he, to passion yielding, flushed with wine, Begat a son; and when our babe was born, ​Ware of his sin, remembering the God's word, He gave the babe to herdmen to cast forth In Hera's Mead upon Kithairon's ridge,25 His ankles pierced clear through with iron spikes, Whence Hellas named him Swoln-foot—Oedipus. But Polybus' horse-tenders found him there, And bare him home, and in their mistress' hands Laid. To my travail's fruit she gave her breast,30 Telling her lord herself had borne the babe. Now, grown to man with golden-bearded cheeks, My son, divining, or of some one told, Journeyed, resolved to find his parents forth, To Phœbus' fane. Now Laïus my lord,35 Seeking assurance of the babe exposed, If dead he were, fared thither. And they met, These twain, where parts the highway Phocis-ward. Then Laïus' charioteer commanded him— "Stand clear, man, from the pathway of a prince!"40 Proudly he strode on, answering not. The steeds Spurned with their hoofs his ankles, drawing blood. Then—why tell aught beyond the sad event?— Son slayeth father, takes the car, and gives To Polybus, his fosterer. While the Sphinx45 Was ravaging Thebes, when now my lord was not, Kreon my brother published that the man, Whoso should read the riddle of that witch-maid, Even he should wed me. Strangely it befell— Oedipus, my son, read the Sphinx's song,50 ​Whence he became the ruler of this land; Yea, for his guerdon wins the throne of Thebes, And weds his mother,—wretch!—unwitting he, Unwitting she that she was her son's bride. And children to my son I bare, two sons,55 Eteokles and famed Polyneikes' might, And daughters twain: the one the father named Ismênê, the elder I, Antigonê. But, when he knew me mother both and wife, Oedipus, crushed 'neath utterest sufferings,60 On his own eyes wrought ruin horrible, Yea, with gold brooch-pin drenched their orbs with blood. Now, being to bearded manhood grown, my sons ​Close-warded kept their sire, that his dark fate, By manifold shifts scarce veiled, might be forgot.65 Within he lives: but, by his fate distraught, A curse most impious hurled he at his sons, That they may share their heritage with the sword. They, terror-stricken lest, if they should dwell Together, Gods might bring the curse to pass,70 Made covenant that Polyneikes first, The younger, self-exiled, should leave the land, That Eteokles tarrying wear the crown One year—then change. But, once in sovranty Firm-seated, he would step not from the throne,75 And thrust Polyneikes banished forth the land. To Argos fares he, weds Adrastus' child, And bringeth huge war-muster of Argive shields. To our very walls seven-gated hath he come, Claiming his father's sceptre and his right.80 And I, to allay their strife, persuaded son In truce to meet son, ere they touch the spear: And, saith the messenger I sent, he comes. O dweller Zeus in heaven's veiling light, Save us, grant reconciling to my sons!85 Thou oughtest not, so thou be wise, to leave
The same man evermore to be unblest.
[Exit.
Enter, above, Old Servant and Antigonê.
Old Servant.
Fair flower of thy sire's house, Antigonê, Albeit thy mother suffered thee to leave Thy maiden-bower at thine entreaty, and mount90 The palace-roof to view the Argive host, Yet stay, that I may scan the highway first, ​Lest on the path some citizen appear, And scandal light—for me, the thrall, 'twere nought,— On thee, the princess. This known, will I tell95 All that I saw, and heard from Argive men, When, to thy brother on truce-mission sent, I passed hence thither, and then back from him. . . . Nay, not a citizen draws nigh the halls. Climb with thy feet the ancient cedar-stair;100 Gaze o'er the plain, along Ismenus' stream And Dirkê's flow, on yon great host of foes.
Antigone.
Stretch it forth, stretch it forth, the old man's hand, unto me The child, from the stair, and my feet upbear, As upward I strain.
Old Servant.
Lo, maiden, grasp it: in good time thou com'st, For yon Pelasgian host is moving now. Battalion from battalion sundering.
Antigone.
O Queen, O Child of Latona, Hekatê! Lo, how the glare of the brass flashes there Over all the plain!110
Old Servant.
Ay, for not feebly Polyneikes comes With thunder of many a steed, with countless shields.
Antigone.
Ah, be the gates secure, be the brass-clamped bolts made sure In the walls that Amphion in days bygone Fashioned of stone?
Old Servant.
Fear not; the city wards all safe within. Mark yonder foremost chief, if thou wouldst know him.
Antigone.
Who is he with the white helm-crest Who marcheth in front of their war-array,120 And a brazen buckler fencing his breast Lightly his arm doth sway?
Old Servant.
A captain, princess.
Antigone.
What his land, his birth? Make answer, ancient. What name beareth he?
Old Servant.
Yon chief proclaims him of Mycenian race: By streams of Lerna King Hippomedon dwells.
Antigone.
Ah me, how haughty, how fearful he is to see, Like to a Giant, a child of Earth! Star-blazonry gleams on his shield: not like is he Unto one of mortal birth.130
Old Servant.
See'st thou not him who crosseth Dirkê's flood?
Antigone.
Of other, of stranger fashion his armour shows! Who is he?
Old Servant.
Tydeus he, of Oineus' blood. Aetolia's battle-fire in the breast of him glows.
Antigone.
Is this he, ancient, by spousal-ties Unto mine own Polyneikes allied, Whose wife's fair sister he won for his bride? How half-barbaric his harness, of no Greek guise!
Old Servant.
Nay, child, shield-bearers all Aetolians are, And most unerring hurlers of the lance.140
Antigone.
And thou, how know'st thou, ancient, all so well?
Old Servant.
Even then I noted their shield-blazonry, When to thy brother with truce-pact I fared: I marked them, and I know their bearers now.
Antigone.
Who is this by Zethus' sepulchre going, With the keen, stern eyes and the curls long-flowing? A warrior young, Yet a chief—for in armour brazen-glowing See his followers throng!
Old Servant.
Parthenopæus, Atalanta's son.150
Antigone.
Now may Artemis, over the mountains hasting With his mother, smite with her bow, and in death lay yon man low, Who is hitherward come for my city's wasting!
Old Servant.
So be it, child: yet for the right they come; Wherefore I dread lest God defend the right.
Antigone.
And where is he whom the selfsame mother bore With me, to a doom of travail sore? Dear ancient, where is Polyneikes, tell.
Old Servant.
He standeth near Adrastus, near the tomb Of Niobê's unwedded daughters seven.160 See'st thou?
Antigone.
I see—not clearly—yet discern Half-guessed, the outline of his frame and chest. O that as wind-driven clouds swift-racing I might speed with my feet through the air, and light By my brother, mine own, and with arms embracing Might hold but his dear neck close-enfolden— So long an exile in dolorous plight! Lo, how he flasheth in armour golden, Like the morning shafts of the sun bright-blazing!
Old Servant.
Hither with joy to fill thee shall he come170 By truce.
Antigone.
But yon chief, ancient, who is he, Car-borne, who sways the reins of horses white?
Old Servant.
The prophet Amphiaraus, Lady, is this. With him are victims, Earth's blood-offerings.
Antigone.
O Daughter of Leto the Queen of the radiant zone, O Moon, thou golden-rounded gleam, How calmly, how soberly ever he driveth on, One after other goading his team! And where is Kapaneus—he who hurls at Thebes180 Outrage of threats?
Old Servant.
There:—he counts up and down The wall-stones, gauging our towers' scaling-height.
Antigone.
O Nemesis, O ye thunders rolling deep Of Zeus, thou flaming light of his levin, Overweening vaunts dost thou hush into endless sleep! And is this the hero by whom shall be given ​Into bondage to dames of Mycenæ the spear-won daughters Of Thebes,—to the Trident of Lerna, the fountain-waters Amymonian, at stroke of Poseidon that leapt,— When his net of thraldom around them is swept? Never, ah never, O Artemis Queen,190 Zeus' child, with the tresses of golden sheen, Bowed under bondage may I be seen!
Old Servant.
Daughter, pass in, and 'neath the roofs abide Thy maiden bowers within; for thy desire Hast thou attained, even all thou fain wouldst see.195 Lo, to the royal halls a woman-throng Comes, now confusion through the town hath passed. And scandal-loving still is womankind; For, so they find slight cause for idle talk, More they invent. Strange pleasure women take200 To speak of sister-women nothing good.
[Exeunt Old Servant and Antigonê.
Enter Chorus.
Chorus.
(Str. 1)
Afar from the tides against Tyre's walls swelling, For Loxias chosen an offering, From the Isle of Phœnicia I came, to be thrall Unto Phœbus, to serve in his palace-hall Where 'neath crags of Parnassus, with arrowy fall Of the snow oversprent, he hath made him a dwelling. O'er Ionian seas did it waft me, the wing Of the oar, while the West-wind's chariot sped Over the furrows unharvested210 That from Sicily roughened;—before him fled ​Music, till all the heavens were telling The glory of beauty his breathings bring.
(Ant. 1)
The choice of my city's virgin-flowers, A gift of beauty to Loxias made, To the land of the children of Kadmus we came, To the sons of Agenor of ancient fame, Hither brought to a people by lineage the same With my fathers, even to Laïus' towers. But as gold-wrought statues to stand arrayed220 For the service of Phœbus appointed we were; And Kastaly's fount yet waiteth us there, That my maiden glory of shining hair May be oversprayed by its hallowing showers Ere for Phœbus's service its tresses I braid.
(Mesode)
Hail, rock that flashest a splendour of light From the cloven tongue of thy flame o'er the height Of the Bacchic peak Dionysus haunteth! Hail, vine that with each morn offerest up Thy giant cluster to brim the cup230 That never the mystic ritual wanteth! Hail, cavern revered where the Dragon abode! Hail, watchtower scaur of the Archer-god! Hail, snow-smitten ridges by mortal untrod! O that the wreaths of the dance I were weaving, With soul unafraid, to the Goddess undying, These fear-stricken waters of Dirkê leaving For Apollo's dells by the world's heart lying!
(Str. 2)
But this day before the wall Furious Arês comes; his hand240 Lights for Thebes the slaughter-brand— God forefend his will befall! Friend with friend is one in pain; And Phœnicia with all bane Of the stately-towered land Shall condole, a mourning nation. One our lineage, one our blood; All be horned Io's brood: Mine is all your tribulation.
(Ant. 2)
Round the town a shield-array250 Cloudlike flashes levin-light— Grim presentment of red fight! Yet shall Arês rue the day If the Avengers' curse he bring On the sons of that blind king. Argos, thy Pelasgian might Dread I, and the hand of heaven! For the strife of him who comes Mail-clad to the ancient homes Shall with Justice' help be striven.260
Enter Polyneikes.
Polyneikes.
Lightly, too lightly, have the warders' bolts Made way for me to pass within the walls. Wherefore I fear lest, once within their net, ​They shall not let me 'scape but with my blood. Needs must I then turn every way mine eye265 Hither and thither, lest some treachery lurk. Mine hand with this blade armed shall give to me The assurance of a desperate courage born. Ha! who goes there?—or fear I but a sound? All perilous seems to them that venture all,270 Soon as their feet are set on hostile soil. Yet do I trust my mother—and mistrust,— Who drew me to come hither under truce. But help is nigh; for lo, the altar-hearth At hand; nor void the palace is of folk.275 Into its dark sheath let me plunge my sword, And ask these by the palace who they be. Ye alien women, say, from what far land Unto the homes of Hellas are ye come?
Chorus.
Phœnician was the land that fostered me.280 Agenor's sons' sons sent me hitherward To Phœbus, firstfruits of their battle-spoil. When Oedipus' famed son would speed me on To Loxias' awful oracle and hearths, Even then the Argives marched against the town.285 But thou, make answer, who art thou that com'st Into this fortress of seven-gated Thebes?
Polyneikes.
Oedipus, son of Laïus, was my sire; Menoikeus' child Jocasta gave me birth; And me the Theban folk Polyneikes name.290
Chorus.
O kinsman thou of old Agenor's race, ​My rulers, who forth sent me to this place!— Low on my knees in obeisance I fall, After the wont of my people, O king! Thou art come at the last—to the land of thy fathers comest thou! What ho, queen, ho! fare forth of the hall! Wide let the palace-portals swing. Mother that barest him, hear'st thou my call? Why dost thou linger to pass from thine high-roofed bowers now, And around thy son with thine arms to cling?300
Enter Jocasta.
Jocasta.
Your Tyrian accents ringing clear Smote, O ye maidens, on mine ear, And lo, my tottering feet, for eld slow-trailed, draw near.
Catches sight of Polyneikes.
(Str.)
O my son, I behold Thy face at the last, After days untold, O my son!—now cast Thine arms round thy mother, and bosom to bosom enfold me fast.
Stoop to me, stoop, Dear face, from above! Let the dark head droop The tresses thereof, Overshadowing my neck with its clustering curls, with the banner of love.
(Ant.)
Hopes, dreams, they were past310 As a tale that is told; Yet thou comest at last For mine arms to enfold! What shall I say to thee?—how shall I grasp it, the rapture of old?
By assurance of word, Or by hands that embrace, Or by feet that are stirred, Or by body that sways, Hitherward, thitherward, tossed as the dance intertwineth its maze?
Ah son, thy father's desolate home forsaking, Wast thou by thine own brother's tyrannous wrong Exiled!—for thee thy lovers' hearts were aching,320 Thebes' heart for thee ached long.
Therefore my white hair have I shorn for mourning, With weeping let it fall for thee, my son: Of white robes disarrayed, for all adorning These night-hued rags I don;
While in our halls the sightless ancient, ever Yearning and weeping o'er that noble twain Whom from home's yoke of love did hatred sever, Rushed, eager to be slain330
By his own hand, with sword, with noose down-trailing From rafters dim,—now groaning o'er the doom His malison brought on you, ever wailing With anguish, hides in gloom. ​But thou, my son, men say, hast made affiance With strangers: children gotten in thine halls Gladden thee, yea, thou soughtest strange alliance!340 Son, on thy mother falls
Thine alien bridal's curse to haunt her ever. Thee shall a voice from Laïus' grave accuse. The spousal torch for thee I kindled never, As happy mothers use;
Nor for thy bridal did Ismenus bring thee Joy of the bath; nor at the entering-in Of this thy bride did Theban maidens sing thee. A curse be on that sin,350
Whether of steel's spell, strife-lust, or thy father It sprang, or whether revel of demons rose In halls of Oedipus!—on mine head gather All tortures of these woes.
Chorus.
Mighty with women is their travail's fruit;355 Yea, dear the child is to all womankind.
Polyneikes.
Wisely, and yet not wisely, have I come, Mother, mid foes: yet all men are constrained To love their fatherland; who saith not so, Sporteth with words, his heart is otherwhere.360 ​In such misgiving came I, in such dread Lest treachery slay me, of my brother framed, That through the city sword in hand I passed, Aye keenly glancing round. One stay I had;— The truce and thy fair faith drew me within365 These walls ancestral. Full of tears I came, So late to see home, altars of the Gods, The athlete-stead that trained me, Dirkê's spring, Whence banished wrongfully, in a strange town I dwell, mine eyes a fountain ever of tears.370 Thee too, for sorrow's crown of sorrow, I see With shaven head, and in dark mourning robes Clad—woe is me for my calamities! Mother, how dire is strife betwixt near kin, How hopeless reconciliation is!375 What doth mine ancient father in his halls, Whose light is dark? What of my sisters twain? Do these bemoan mine exile's misery?
Jocasta.
Foully doth some God ruin Oedipus' line. Thus it began—I bare forefended issue;380 Wed under curse thy sire,—and thou wast born! Yet wherefore this? The Gods' will must we bear. But how to ask the thing I would I fear, Lest I should gall thy soul, yet long for this.
Polyneikes.
Nay, ask; leave no desire unsatisfied;385 For, mother, that thou wouldst is dear to me.
Jocasta.
First, then, I ask thee that I fain would learn. What meaneth exile? Is it a sore ill?
Polyneikes.
The sorest. In deed sorer than in word.
Jocasta.
In what wise? Where for exiles lies its sting?390
Polyneikes.
This most of all—a curb is on the tongue.
Jocasta.
That is the slave's lot, not to speak one's thought!
Polyneikes.
The unwisdom of his rulers must one bear.
Jocasta.
Hard this, that one partake in folly of fools!
Polyneikes.
Yokes nature loathes must be for profit borne.395
Jocasta.
Yet hopes be exiles' meat, so runs the saw.
Polyneikes.
Hopes look with kind eyes, yet they long delay.
Jocasta.
But doth not time lay bare their emptiness?
Polyneikes.
Ah, but sweet witchery mid ills have they!
Jocasta.
Whence wast thou fed, ere marriage brought thee substance?400
Polyneikes.
Whiles had I daily bread, and whiles had not.
Jocasta.
Helped they not thee, thy father's friends and guests?
Polyneikes.
Prosper:—friends vanish if thou prosper not.
Jocasta.
Did high birth bring thee not to high estate?
Polyneikes.
A curse is penury. Birth fed me not.405
Jocasta.
Most dear, meseems, to men is fatherland.
Polyneikes.
How dear, thou couldst not even utter it.
Jocasta.
To Argos how cam'st thou? With what intent?
Polyneikes.
I know not. Heaven to my fate summoned me.
Jocasta.
Wise is the God. How didst thou win thy bride?410
Polyneikes.
To Adrastus Loxias spake an oracle.
Jocasta.
What was it? How mean'st thou? I cannot guess.
Polyneikes.
"Thy daughters wed to a lion and a boar."
Jocasta.
Son, with a brute's name what hadst thou to do?
Polyneikes.
'Twas night: to Adrastus' palace-porch I came.415
Jocasta.
Seeking a couch?—or but as exiles roam?
Polyneikes.
Even that. Another exile thither came.
Jocasta.
Who? In what hapless plight was he withal?
Polyneikes.
Tydeus, who sprang, men say, of Oineus' loins.
Jocasta.
Why to Adrastus seemed ye as wild beasts?420
Polyneikes.
For that we fell to fighting for our couch.
Jocasta.
Then Talaus' son read right the oracle?
Polyneikes.
Yea—to us twain gave his young daughters twain.
Jocasta.
Blest or unblest, then, art thou in thy bride?
Polyneikes.
Unto this day I find no fault in her.425
Jocasta.
How didst thou win yon host to follow thee?
Polyneikes.
To his two daughters' husbands swore Adrastus, Tydeus and me,—my marriage-kinsman he,— To bring both home from exile, me the first. And many a Danaan and Mycenian chief430 Is here—a needful, yet a mournful grace To me, for I against my country march. And, by the Gods I swear, unwillingly I lift the spear against my best-beloved. But with thee rests the assuaging of these ills,435 Mother, to set at one those one in blood, And end mine, thine, and all the city's toils. Old is the saw, yet will I utter it:— Wealth in men's eyes is honoured most of all, And of all things on earth hath chiefest power.440 Captaining countless spears for this I come; For the high-born in poverty is naught.
Chorus.
Lo, unto parley Eteokles comes. Mother Jocasta, thine the task to speak Words whereby thou shalt set thy sons at one.445
Enter Eteokles.
Eteokles.
Here am I, mother—all for grace to thee I come. What needs to do? Be speech begun. For I have stayed from marshalling round the walls The close-linked cordon of defence, to hear Thy mediation for the which thou hast wrought450 On me to admit this man within our walls.
Jocasta.
Forbear: haste brings not justice in its train: But slow speech winneth oftenest wisdom's end. Refrain fierce look and passion's stormy breath: The Gorgon's severed head thou seest not:455 Thou seest thine own brother hither come. And thou, unto thy brother turn thy face, Polyneikes; for, if thou but meet his eye, Thou shalt the better speak, and hear his words. Fain would I wisely counsel thee, and thee.460 When he whose wrath is hot against his friend Cometh to meet him, standeth eye to eye, Let him look only at that for which he came, And cherish no remembrance of old wrongs. Son Polyneikes, be the first word thine,465 For thou hast brought yon host of Danaus' sons, Wronged, as thou pleadest. Now be some God judge Hereof, and reconciler of these ills.
Polyneikes.
Plain and unvarnished is the tale of truth, And justice needs no subtle sophistries:470 Itself hath fitness; but the unrighteous plea, Having no soundness, needeth cunning salves. I had regard unto my father's house, My weal, and this man's: fain to 'scape the curse Uttered of Oedipus against us once,475 Of mine own will I went from this realm forth, And left him one year's round to rule our land, Myself in turn to take the sovereignty, And not in hate and bloodshed clash with him, And do and suffer ill—as now befalls.480 And he consented, in the Gods' sight swore, Yet no whit keepeth troth, but holdeth still The kingship and mine half the heritage. Now ready am I, so I receive mine own, Forth from this land to send my war-array,485 To take mine house, in turn therein to dwell, And for like space to yield it him again, And not to waste my fatherland, nor bring Assault of scaling-ladders to her towers, Which, save I win my right, will I essay490 To do. I call the Gods to witness this— That, wholly dealing justly, robbed am I Of fatherland, unjustly, impiously. These things have I said, mother, point by point, Not wrapped in webs of words, but, in the eyes495 Of wise or simple, naked right, meseems.
Chorus.
To me—albeit Hellas nursed me not, Yet to me soundly seemest thou to plead.
Eteokles.
Were wisdom gauged alike of all, and honour, No strife of warring words were known to men.500 But no men judge alike, no men agree, Save touching names; no being hath the deed. Yea, mother, nothing feigning will I speak:— I would mount to the risings of the stars Or sun, would plunge 'neath earth, if this I could,505 So to win Power, diviner than all gods. This precious thing, my mother, will I not Yield to another, when myself might keep. No man's part this, to let the better slip And grasp the worse! Nay more—I think foul shame510 That he should come with arms, lay waste the land, And win his heart's desire. This were reproach To Thebes, if I, by spear Mycenian cowed, Should yield my sceptre up for him to hold. With arms should he not come in quest of peace,515 Mother; for parley can accomplish all That even steel of foes can bring to pass. If he on other terms will dwell in Thebes, That may he. This consent I not to yield. I, who may rule, shall I be thrall to him?520 Wherefore let fire have way, let swords have way, Yoke ye the steeds, with chariots fill the plains:— I will not render him my sovereignty. If wrong may e'er be right, for a throne's sake Were wrong most right:—be God in all else feared!525
Chorus.
Befits not fair speech glozing deed unfair: Not fair it is, but an offence to justice.
Jocasta.
My son Eteokles, evil unalloyed Cleaves not to old age: nay, experience Can plead more wisely than the lips of youth.530 Why at Ambition, worst of deities, Son, graspest thou? Do not: she is Queen of Wrong. Homes many and happy cities enters she, And leaves for ruin of her votaries. Thou art mad for her!—better to honour, son,535 Equality, which knitteth friends to friends, Cities to cities, allies unto allies. Man's law of nature is equality, And the less, ever marshalled foe against The greater, ushers in the dawn of hate.540 Measures for men Equality ordained, Meting of weights and number she assigned. The sightless face of night, and the sun's beam Equally pace along their yearly round, Nor either envieth that it must give place.545 Sun, then, and night are servants unto men. Shalt thou not brook to halve your heritage And share with him? . . . Ah, where is justice then? Wherefore dost thou prize lordship overmuch,— A prosperous wrong,—and count it some great thing?550 Is worship precious? Nay, 'tis vanity. Wouldst have, with great wealth in thine halls, great travail? What is thy profit?—profit but in name; ​Seeing enough sufficeth for the wise. Mortals hold their possessions not in fee:555 We are but stewards of the gifts of God: Whene'er he will, he claims his own again. And wealth abides not, 'tis but for a day. Come, if I set two things before thee, and ask "Wouldst thou be lord or saviour of thy Thebes?"560 Wilt thou say, "Lord?" But if this man prevail, And Argos' spears bear down Kadmean might, Then conquered shalt thou see this city of Thebes, And many captive maidens shalt thou see Dishonoured with foul outrage by the foe.565 Then were the wealth, that thou dost covet, made Anguish to Thebes . . . . Ah me! ambitious still! This to thee: and to thee, Polyneikes, this:— A foolish grace Adrastus did to thee; Madly thou too hast marched to ravage Thebes.570 Come, if thou smite this land,—which God forbid,— 'Fore heaven, how wilt thou set Zeus' trophies up? How sacrifice for fatherland o'ercome? And how at Inachus' streams inscribe the spoils— "Polyneikes hath burnt Thebes, and to the Gods575 Offers these shields?" Never, my son, be thine To win from lips of Hellenes such renown! But, he triumphant, vanquished thou, to Argos How canst thou come, here leaving myriads dead? And one shall say, "O cursed betrothal made580 By thee, Adrastus! For one bridal's sake We are ruined!" Evils twain thou draw'st on thee,— There, to lose all, here, fail mid thine emprise. Forbear, forbear your vehemence! When meet Two headstrong fools, the issue is foulest ill.585
Chorus.
Ah Gods, be ye averters of these ills, And set at one the sons of Oedipus!
Eteokles.
Mother, 'tis too late for parley; nay, the time in dallying spent Doth but run to waste, nor aught availeth this thy good intent. Never shall we be at one, except as I have laid it down,590 That in lordship over Thebes I sway the sceptre, wear the crown. Have thou done with tedious admonitions then, and let me be: And, for thee, thou get thee forth these walls, ere death shall light on thee.
Polyneikes.
Death?—of whom?—what man so woundless, as to plunge his murderous sword Into this my body, and not win himself the like reward?595
Eteokles.
Nigh he is: not far thou standest: lo, these hands—hast eyes to see?
Polyneikes.
Yea—and know how clings to life that craven thing, prosperity!
Eteokles.
Yet against a battle-blencher thou must lead yon huge array!
Polyneikes.
Yea, for better than the reckless is the prudent captain aye.
Eteokles.
Safe behind the truce, from death that screens thee, vaunting dost thou stand! 600
Polyneikes.
Once again I claim of thee my crown, my share of fatherland.
Eteokles.
Nought to me are claims: for I will dwell in this mine house—mine own.
Polyneikes.
Grasping more than thine is?
Eteokles.
Ay!—now get thee forth the land—begone!
Polyneikes.
Altars of our Gods ancestral,—
Eteokles.
Whom to ravage thou art come!
Polyneikes.
Hear me!—605
Eteokles.
Who shall hearken thee, who bringest war against thine home?
Polyneikes.
And ye temples of the Gods of Stainless Steeds!—
Eteokles.
Who loathe thy name!
Polyneikes.
I am banished from my country!—
Eteokles.
He that to destroy it came.
Polyneikes.
Wrongfully, ye Gods!
Eteokles.
To Gods not here, but at Mycenae, cry.
Polyneikes.
Impious art thou—
Eteokles.
Yea?—but not my country's foe, as thou, am I.
Polyneikes.
Who dost drive me forth defrauded!
Eteokles.
Death withal I'll deal to thee.610
Polyneikes.
Father, hear'st thou what I suffer?
Eteokles.
Nay, thy doings heareth he.
Polyneikes.
And thou, mother?
Eteokles.
That thou name our mother, sacrilege it were.
Polyneikes.
O my city!
Eteokles.
Hence to Argos: call on Lerna's water there.
Polyneikes.
Fret thee not—I go. I thank thee, mother.
Eteokles.
Forth the city! Go!
Polyneikes.
Forth I go: yet on my father let me look!
Eteokles.
Thou see him! No!615
Polyneikes.
Nay then, but my maiden sisters.
Eteokles.
These thou never more shalt see.
Polyneikes.
O my sisters!
Eteokles.
Why dost call on these, their bitterest enemy?
Polyneikes.
Farewell, O my mother!
Jocasta.
Sooth, my son, in gladness well I fare!
Polyneikes.
Son of thine no more!—
Jocasta.
For many a sorrow me my mother bare!
Polyneikes.
Since he doth me foul despite!
Eteokles.
For foul despite received, I wis!620
Polyneikes.
Where before the towers wilt plant thee?
Eteokles.
Wherefore dost thou question this?
Polyneikes.
I will face thee there to slay thee.
Eteokles.
Ha! I long to have it so!
Jocasta.
Woe is me! what will ye do, my sons?
Polyneikes.
The issue's self shall show.
Jocasta.
Flee, O flee your father's curses!
Eteokles.
All our house let ruin seize!
Polyneikes.
Soon my sword, blood-reddened, shall abide no more in deedless ease.625 But I call to witness earth that nursed me, witness Gods in heaven, How with shame and piteous usage from the homeland I am driven, Like a bondman, not a son of very Oedipus that came. City, whatsoe'er befall thee, blame not me: yon tyrant blame. Willingly I came not, from the land am cast unwillingly.630 Farewell, Phœbus, Highway-king, O palace-bowers, farewell ye! ​Friends of youth, farewell, and statues of the Gods where sheep are slain! For I know not if to me 'tis given to speak to you again. But my hope not yet doth sleep, wherein I trust, with Gods to aid, Him to slay, and hold the land of Thebes beneath my sceptre swayed.635
Eteokles.
Get thee forth! Ha, truly Polyneikes, "Man of many a feud," Named thy father thee, with heavenly prescience of thy feuds endued!
[Exit Polyneikes.
Chorus.
(Str. 1)
To this land from Phœnicia Kadmus speeding Came, till the heifer unbroken, leading The wanderer, cast her to earthward, telling640 That so was accomplished the oracle spoken When the God for the place of his rest gave token, Bidding take the Aonian plains for his dwelling, Where the golden spears of the wheat-ranks quiver, Where the outgushing flood of the lovely river Forth flashes from fountains of Dirkê welling
Over meadows and tilth-lands harvest-teeming, Where sprang from the spousals levin-gleaming Of Zeus, the God of the shout wild-ringing;650 ​And the ivy arching its bowers around him, With the fairy chains of its greenness bound him, To the babe with its sudden tendrils clinging, Overmantling with shadow the Blessing-laden, For a theme of the Bacchanal dance unto maiden Of Thebes, and to matron evoë-singing.
(Ant. 1)
There on the hallowed fountain's border Was the dragon of Ares, a ruthless warder; And the glare of his eyeballs fearful-flashing Wandered in restless-roving keenness O'er the brimming runnels, the mirrored greenness:660 Then came to the spring for the lustral washing Kadmus, and hurled at the monster, and slew it; For he snatched a boulder, his strong arm threw it Down on the head of the slaughterer crashing.
Then, of Pallas, the motherless Goddess, bidden, O'er the deep-furrowed earth, in her breast to be hidden, He scattered the teeth from the grim jaws parted. And the travailing glebe flung up bright blossom670 Of mail-clad warriors over the bosom Of the earth: but slaughter the iron-hearted Again with the earth their mother blent them, And drenched with their blood the breast which had sent them Forth, when to sun-quickened air they upstarted.
(Str. 2)
Unto thee too, Epaphus, scion Of our first mother Io, I moan, Unto thee, of our lord Zeus sprung, With my alien chant upflung And with prayers of an alien tongue!680 Thy sons, who reared Thebes to thee, cry on Their father—O come to thine own!
(Ant. 2)
For Demeter, Persephonê, wearing Twin names, have our land in ward— Even gracious Demeter All-queen, Who is Earth, nurse of all that hath been,— O send them, thy people to screen From the evil, the Queens Torch-bearing!— Is there aught for the Gods too hard?
Eteokles (to attendant).
Go thou, and Kreon bring, Menoikeus' son,690 Who is my mother's, even Jocasta's brother. This tell him, that I would commune with him Touching our own advantage and the land's, Ere we go battleward and range the spears. But lo, he cometh, sparing thy foot's toil.695 Myself behold him drawing nigh mine halls.
Enter Kreon.
Kreon.
Seeking to see thee, far I have wended, King Eteokles; round to all Kadmean gates And guards, still searching for thy face, I passed.
Eteokles.
Sooth, Kreon, fain was I to look on thee:700 ​For little worth I found his terms of peace, When I for parley Polyneikes met.
Kreon.
Beyond Thebes his ambition soars, I hear, By Adrastus' kinship, and his host, puffed up. But these things in the Gods' hands must we leave.705 Of our main stumblingblock I came to tell.
Eteokles.
What shall this be? Thy drift is dark to me.
Kreon.
A captive from the Argive host is come.
Eteokles.
What tidings bringeth he of dealings there?
Kreon.
That Argos' host will straightway wind the net710 Of arms round Kadmus' burg, all round her towers.
Eteokles.
Then Kadmus' burg must lead forth her array,—
Kreon.
Whither? Sees not thy rash youth what it should?
Eteokles.
Across yon trenches, as to fight forthwith.
Kreon.
Small is the host of this land, countless theirs.715
Eteokles.
I know them for tongue-valiant warriors.
Kreon.
Argos hath high repute mid Hellas' sons.
Eteokles.
Fear not: their slaughter soon shall load the plain.
Kreon.
That would I: yet herein I see grim toil.
Eteokles.
Not I will pen mine host within the walls!720
Kreon.
Yet wholly in good counsel victory lies.
Eteokles.
Wouldst thou I turned me unto other paths?
Kreon.
Any path, ere on one cast all be staked.
Eteokles.
How if by night we fall on them from ambush?
Kreon.
Yea,—if, miscarrying, safe thou mayst return.725
Eteokles.
Night equals all, yet helps the venturous most.
Kreon.
Yet, for ill-speed, night's gloom is terrible.
Eteokles.
Shall I make onset even as they sup?
Kreon.
A brief alarm:—'tis victory we need.
Eteokles.
Dirkê's deep ford should hamper their retreat.730
Kreon.
Nought were so good as ward us warily.
Eteokles.
How, if our horse charge down on Argos' host?
Kreon.
There too their lines be fenced with chariots round.
Eteokles.
What shall I do then?—yield our town to foes?
Kreon.
Never. Take thought, if prudent chief thou art,—735
Eteokles.
What counsel is more prudent, then, than these?
Kreon.
Seven champions are there with them, have I heard,—
Eteokles.
Whereto appointed? Seven men's might were small!
Kreon.
To lead their bands to assail our seven gates.
Eteokles.
What then? I wait not counsels of despair.740
Kreon.
Seven choose thou too to front them at the gates.
Eteokles.
To lead our bands, or fight with single spear?
Kreon.
To lead our bands: choose thou our mightiest;—
Eteokles.
Ay so—to avert the scaling of the walls.
Kreon.
And under-captains: one man sees not all.745
Eteokles.
For valour chosen, or for prudent wit?
Kreon.
Nay, both: without its fellow, each is naught.
Eteokles.
This shall be. Now to the seven towers will I, ​And plant chiefs, as thou biddest, at the gates, Champion for champion, ranged against the foe.750 To tell each o'er, were costly waste of time, When foes be camped beneath our very walls. But I will go, that mine hands loiter not. God grant I meet my brother face to face, Clash in the grapple, and slay him with the spear—755 Slay him, who came to lay my country waste! But, for Antigonê's marriage with thy son Haimon,—if aught untoward hap to me,— See thou to this. Their late betrothal-plight Now, as I go forth, do I ratify.760 Thou art my mother's brother; why waste words? Give her fair nurture, for thy sake and mine. My father hath wrought folly against himself, Blinding his eyes;—scant praise of mine he hath;— And us his curse shall slay, if so it hap.765 One thing abides undone, to ask the seer Teiresias touching this, if aught he hath Of oracles to tell; and I will send Thy son Menoikeus, of thy father named, Kreon, to bring Teiresias hitherward.770 With a good will shall he commune with thee: But the seer's art in time past have I mocked Unto his face; so he may bear me grudge. This, Kreon, is mine hest to Thebes and thee:— If my cause conquer, never bury ye775 Polyneikes' corpse upon this Theban soil. Who buries him—though closest friend—must die. This to thee:—to mine henchmen now I speak. Bring forth mine arms, mine harness-panoply, That to the imminent conflict of the spear780 I may set forth, with Right to crown mine arms. ​To Heedfulness, of all Gods helpfullest, That she will save this city, now we pray.
[Exit.
Chorus.
(Str.)
Ares the troublous, O whence is thy passion For blood and for death, unattuned to the feasts of the Revelry-king? Not for the dances, the circlings of beauty, in virginal fashion Tossed are thy tresses abroad, nor to breathings of flutes dost thou sing A strain to whose witchery dances are wreathing: But with clangour of harness of fight through the Argive array art thou breathing War-lust for the blood of our Thebes athirst,790 As thou leadest the dance of a revel accurst Where no flutes ring. Thou art found not where fawnskin and thyrsus in mad reel mingle and sunder, But with chariots and clashing of bits and with war-horses' footfall of thunder By Ismenus' brimming marge With the rushing of steeds dost thou charge, Into Argives breathing the battle-hate Against the sons of the Dragon-state; And with harness of brass and with targe, Fronting our ramparts of stone, dost array A host for the fray. A fearful Goddess in sooth is Strife, Of whose devising the troublous life Of the Labdakid kings of the land is anguish-rife.800
(Ant.)
Gorges mysterious of frondage, Cithæron Beast-haunted, O birth-bed of snows, O thou apple of Artemis' eye, Ah that thou ne'er hadst received him, the babe of Jocasta, to rear on Thy lap such a fosterling, Oedipus, thrust from his home as to die, Life-marked with the brooch-pin golden-looping! And O that the portent, the wings of the Sphinx from the mountain swooping, Down on the land for its woe had not come, The maiden that sang us a chant of doom, An untuneable cry, When with talons of feet and of hands on the ramparts of Kadmus she darted, And bearing his offspring to sun-litten cloudland untrodden departed, She whom Hades from dens of the dead810 Against Kadmus' children sped! But a new curse lights upon Thebes and her halls; For 'twixt Oedipus' sons the hell-seed falls Of strife, and it blossometh red. For never may aught that is utter shame Bear honour's name; Nay, nor the unblest spousal's fruit Are sons true-born, but with stain they pollute Their begetter, the stock that sprang from the self-same root.
(Epode)
Thou didst bear, O land, thou didst bear of old— For I heard, yea, I heard in mine home, in an alien tongue, the story— ​From the dragon of crimson crest that battened on beasts of the wold820 A race of the seed of his teeth, to be Thebes' reproach and her glory. To Harmonia's bridal descended of yore The children of Heaven; and Thebes' walls rose to the harp's voice singing, When the spell of Amphion's lyre fashioned towers for her brows' enringing, In the space 'twixt the rivers twain that pour Out of Dirkê, whose dews drift greenness, shedding Life o'er the plain by Ismenus spreading. And our ancestress Io of hornèd brows Was mother of kings unto Kadmus' house. Lo, how hath this city, through line on line830 Of blessings unnumbered, attained to the height Where the War-god's crowns of victory-might Shine!
Enter Teiresias led by his daughter, with Menoikeus.
Teiresias.
Lead on, my daughter: to my sightless feet As eyes art thou, as star to mariners.835 Hither, on even ground, plant thou my steps. Guide, lest I stumble: strengthless is thy sire. Guard in thy maiden hand the augury-lots Which, when I marked the bodings of the birds, In the holy seat I took, where I divine.840 Thou child Menoikeus, son of Kreon, tell How much remaineth of the townward way ​To where thy father waits. Faint wax my knees; Journeying so long, scarce have I strength to go.
Kreon.
Take heart, Teiresias, thou art nigh thy friends,845 And thy foot's anchorage. Grasp his hand, my child. Mule-car and agèd foot alike are wont To await the upbearing of another's hand.
Teiresias.
Here am I. Why this instant summons, Kreon?
Kreon.
We have not forgotten. Gather strength, regain850 Thy breath, cast off thy journey's toil and strain.
Teiresias.
Sooth am I spent with toil, brought hitherward But yesterday from King Erechtheus' folk. There too was war, against Eumolpus' spear, Where I to Kekrops' sons gave victory.855 This crown of gold, as thou mayst see, have I As firstfruits of the foemen's spoils received.
Kreon.
I take thy triumph-crown for omen fair; For we are, as thou knowest, in mid-surge Of Danaïd war, and Thebes must wrestle hard.860 King Eteokles, clad in war-array, ​Even now is gone to face Mycenæ's might; But to me gave in charge to inquire of thee What deeds of ours shall best deliver Thebes.
Teiresias.
For Eteokles sealed my lips had been,865 The oracles withheld:—since thou wouldst know, I tell thee. Kreon, long this land hath ailed Since Laïus in heaven's despite begat Oedipus, his own mother's wretched spouse. Yea, and the gory ruin of his eyes870 Was heaven's device, for warning unto Greece. And Oedipus' sons, who fain had cloaked it o'er With time, as though they could outrun the Gods, In folly erred: vouchsafing to their sire Nor honour nor free air, they stung to fury875 His misery: dread malison he breathed Against them, suffering and shamed withal. What did I not? What warnings spake I not?— And had for guerdon hate of Oedipus' sons. But nigh them, Kreon, mutual slaughter looms;880 And corpses many upon corpses piled— Shafts Argive and Kadmean all confused— With bitter wails shall dower the Theban land. Thou, hapless town, art made a ruin-heap— Except unto my bodings one give heed!885 This thing were best, that none of Oedipus' line Remain in Thebes, nor citizen nor king: They are fiend-possessed and doomed to wreck the state. But, seeing the evil hath o'erborne the good, One other way of safety yet remains.890 But this to tell, for me were all unsafe, ​And bitter unto those whom fate endows With power to give their city safety's balm. I go. Farewell! What must befall will I— One midst a multitude—endure:—what help?895
Turns to go.
Kreon.
Abide here, ancient!
Teiresias.
Lay not hold on me.
Kreon.
Tarry: why flee?
Teiresias.
Thy fortune flies, not I.
Kreon.
Tell citizens and city safety's path.
Teiresias.
Ay, fain art thou!—but loth thou soon shalt be.
Kreon.
How?—not desire to save my fatherland?900
Teiresias.
Wouldst thou indeed hear? Art thou set thereon?
Kreon.
Yea: whereunto more earnest should I be?
Teiresias.
Then straightway shalt thou hear mine oracles. ​But of this first would I be certified— Where is Menoikeus, who hath led me hither?905
Kreon.
He stands not far, but even at thy side.
Teiresias.
Let him withdraw now from my bodings far.
Kreon.
He is my son, will keep what must be secret.
Teiresias.
Wilt thou indeed I speak before his face?
Kreon.
Yea; of this safety gladly shall he hear.910
Teiresias.
Hear then the tenor of mine oracle, What deed of yours shall save the Thebans' town. Menoikeus must thou slay for fatherland, Thy so—since thou thyself demandest fate.
Kreon.
How say'st thou? Ancient, what was this thy word?915
Teiresias.
As hath been doomed, even this thou needs must do.
Kreon.
Oh countless ills told in one little word!
Teiresias.
Thine ills—but great salvation for thy land.
Kreon.
I hearkened not!—heard not!—away, thou Thebes!
Teiresias.
Not the same man is this: he flincheth now.920
Kreon.
Depart in peace: thy bodings need I not.
Teiresias.
Is truth dead, for that thou art fortune-crost?
Kreon.
Oh, by thy knees, and by thy reverend hair!—
Teiresias.
Why pray me? Bow to ills inevitable.
Kreon.
Keep silence: to the city tell not this.925
Teiresias.
Thou bidd'st me sin: I will not hold my peace.
Kreon.
What wilt thou do to me?—wilt slay my son?
Teiresias.
Others shall see to that. 'Tis mine to speak.
Kreon.
Whence came on me this curse, and on my son?
Teiresias.
Fair question and demand that I show cause.930 In that den where the earth-born dragon lay Watching the streams of Dirkê, must he yield, Slaughtered, a blood-oblation to the earth; For Ares, nursing wrath 'gainst Kadmus long, Now would avenge his earth-born dragon's death.935 Do this, and Ares for your champion win. If earth for seed gain seed, and human blood For blood, then kindly shall ye prove the earth Which once sent up a harvest golden-helmed Of Sown-men. And it needeth that one die940 Born of the lineage of the Dragon's Teeth. And sole survivor art thou of the Sown Of pure blood both on sire's and mother's side, Thou and thy two sons. Haimon's spousals bar His slaughter, for he is not virgin man.945 Though sealed the rite be not, betrothed is he. But this lad, to his city consecrate, Dying, should yet redeem his fatherland, And for Adrastus and the Argives make Bitter return, their eyes with black death palled,950 And make Thebes glorious. One of these two fates Choose: either save the city, or thy son. Now hast thou all my tale. Lead on, my child, Homeward. Who useth the diviner's art Is foolish. If he heraldeth ill things,955 He is loathed of those to whom he prophesies. If, pitying them that seek to him, he lie, ​He wrongs the Gods. Sole prophet unto men Ought Phœbus to have been, who feareth none.
[Exit.
Chorus.
Why silent, Kreon, with lips held from speech?960 On me, too, consternation weighs no less.
Kreon.
What should one say?—But clear mine answer is: Never such depth of misery will I seek, As offer for my city a slaughtered son! For love of children filleth all men's life,965 And none to death would yield up his own child. Let no man's praise lure me to slay my sons! Myself—who have reached the ripeness of my years— For death stand ready, to redeem my land. But up, my child, ere all the city hear.970 Heed not the reckless words of soothsayers: But fly—with all speed get thee from the land! To the seven gates, the captains, will he go, And tell the rulers and the chieftains this. Yet, may we but forestall him, thou art saved.975 But if thou lag, undone we are—thou diest.
Menoikeus.
But whither flee?—what city seek?—what friend?
Kreon.
Where thou from this land's reach shalt farthest be.
Menoikeus.
It best beseems that thou tell, I perform.
Kreon.
Pass Delphi—
Menoikeus.
Whither, father, must I go?980
Kreon.
Unto Aetolia.
Menoikeus.
Whither journey thence?
Kreon.
Thesprotia's soil.
Menoikeus.
Dodona's hallowed floor?
Kreon.
Thou say'st.
Menoikeus.
What shall be my protection there?
Kreon.
The God shall speed thee.
Menoikeus.
How supply my need?
Kreon.
I will find gold.
Menoikeus.
Father, thou sayest well:985 Haste then. Unto thy sister will I go,— Jocasta, on whose bosom first I lay, Reft of my mother, left an orphan lone,— To bid her farewell, ere I flee for life. On then: pass in, be hindrance not in thee.990
[Exit Kreon.
Maidens, how well I have stilled my father's fear By guileful words, to attain the end I would! Me would he steal hence, robbing Thebes of hope, Branding me coward! This might one forgive In age; but no forgiveness should be mine995 If I betray the city of my birth. Doubt not but I will go and save the town, And give my soul to death for this land's sake. 'Twere shame that men no oracles constrain, Who have not fall'n into the net of fate,1000 Shoulder to shoulder stand, blench not from death, Fighting before the towers for fatherland, And I, betraying father, brother, yea, My city, craven-like flee forth the land— A dastard manifest, where'er I dwell!1005 By Zeus star-throned, by Ares, slaughter's lord, Who set on high in lordship over Thebes The Dragon-brood that cleft the womb of earth, Go will I, on the ramparts' height will stand, And o'er the Dragon's gloomy chasm-cave,1010 ​Whereof the seer spake, will I slay myself, And make my country free. The word is said. I go, to give my country no mean gift, My life, from ruin so to save the land: For, if each man would take his all of good,1015 Lavish it, lay it at his country's feet, Then fewer evils should the nations prove, And should through days to come be prosperous.
[Exit.
Chorus.
(Str.)
Thou camest, camest, O thou wingèd doom, Fruit of Earth's travailing,1020 Begotten of the Worm of Nether-gloom, On Kadmus' sons to spring Death-fraught, and fraught with moanings for the dead, Half maiden, half brute-beast, Monster of roving pinions, talons red From that raw-ravening feast, Snatching from Dirkê's meads her young men, shrieking O'er them thy dissonant knell, Anguish of slaughter on our country wreaking, Wreaking a curse-doom fell!1030 Ah, murderous God, these ills for us who fashioned! Moanings of mothers filled The shuddering homes, and maidens' moanings passioned: And wail to wail aye thrilled, And dirge to death-dirge, each to each replying The stricken city through— A nation's pang—as thunder pealed their crying,1040 As the winged maid with each new victim flying From earth, was lost to view.
(Ant.)
At last was Oedipus, woe-fated, bound From Pytho, hither led,— Our joy, but soon our grief,—who, triumph-crowned From that dark riddle read, Wretch, in ill bridal made his mother wife, Polluted Thebes, and banned1050 His sons to stain in this accursèd strife With brother-blood the hand. Praise to him, praise, who unto death is faring, Yea, for his land to die, Leaving to Kreon moans of love's despairing, But setting victory For crown upon the city seven-gated! Ah, may such noble son To bless mine happy motherhood be fated, O Pallas, gracious one!—1060 Pallas, of whom the sudden stone leapt, spilling The dragon-warder's blood: Thou gav'st the thought the heart of Kadmus thrilling To dare the deed whence rushed, with ravin filling The land, a God's curse-flood.
Enter Messenger.
Messenger.
Ho there! Who standeth at the palace-gate? Open ye, bring Jocasta forth her bowers. Ho there, again! Though late, yet come thou forth: Hearken, renowned wife of Oedipus;1070 Cease from thy wailings and thy tears of grief.
Enter Jocasta.
Jocasta.
Friend—friend!—thou com'st not sure with ill news fraught ​Of Eteokles' death, by whose shield aye Thou marchedst, warding him from foemen's darts? What word of tidings bringest thou to me?1075 Dead is my son, or liveth he?—declare.
Messenger.
He lives. Fear not! I rid thee so of dread.
Jocasta.
And the seven towers, how fares the fence thereof?
Messenger.
They stand unshattered: Thebes not yet is spoiled.
Jocasta.
Were they sore perilled of the Argive spear?1080
Messenger.
At ruin's brink: but stronger proved the might Of Kadmus' people than Mycenæ's spear.
Jocasta.
One thing, by heaven!—of Polyneikes aught Canst tell? I yearn for this! Doth he see light?
Messenger.
Liveth thus far thy chariot-yoke of sons.1085
Jocasta.
Blessings on thee! How did ye thrust the spear Of Argos back from your beleaguered gates? Tell, that I may rejoice the blind old man The halls within, with news of this land saved.
Messenger.
When Kreon's son, who for his country died,1090 Climbing a tower's height, had thrust the sword Black-hafted through his throat to save the land, Seven bands with captains to the seven gates, For watch and ward against the Argive spear, Thy son set, horsemen covering horsemen ranged,1095 And men-at-arms behind the shield-bearers, That, where the wall's defence failed, succour of spears Might be hard by. Then from the soaring towers We marked the white shields of the Argive host Leaving Teumessus. Having neared the foss,1100 Suddenly charging closed they on Kadmus' burg. Then pæan swelled, and shattering trumpet shrilled, All blended, from the foe and from the walls. Parthenopaius, that famed huntress' son, First led against the Gate Neïstian1105 A squadron horrent all with serried shields, On his mid-targe the blazon of his house, Atalanta slaying the Aetolian boar With shafts far-smiting. Against Proitus' Gate, Slain victims on his chariot, marched the seer1110 Amphiaraus, with no proud device, But sober weapons void of blazonry. The gates Ogygian King Hippomedon Assailed, in mid-targe bearing for device Argus, with gemmy eyes for aye at gaze,1115 Some with the rising of the stars aglare, While, as the stars set, some were slumber-veiled, As might be seen thereafter, he being slain. Against the Gate of Homolê Tydeus took His stand, his shield draped with a lion's hide1120 ​All shaggy-haired. Titan Prometheus bore A torch in hand there, as to burn the town. Thy son Polyneikes at the Fountain Gate Led on the war. Upon his shield the steeds Of Potniæ racing in fear-frenzy sprang,1125 Wheeled round within by pivots cunningly Hard by the hand-grip, that they seemed distraught. High-stomached for the fight as Ares' self, Led Kapaneus his troop to Electra's Gate; And, for his iron-faced buckler's blazonry,1130 An earth-born giant on his shoulders bore A whole town from its basement lever-wrenched, As token for us of our city's fate. And at the seventh gate Adrastus was, His graven shield with five-score vipers thronged1135 Swung on his left arm, even the Argive vaunt, The Hydra; and its serpents from our walls Were snatching Kadmus' children in their jaws. Each chief's device I well might mark, who bare The watchword to the leaders of our bands.1140 Then first with bows and thong-sped javelins We battled, and with slings that smote from far, And crashing stones. But when we 'gan prevail, Suddenly shouted Tydeus and thy son: "Sons of the Danaans, ere their bolts quell you,1145 Why do ye tarry, onward-hurling all, To assault their gates—light-armed, horse, chariot-lords?" Soon as they heard that cry, was none hung back. Many, with heads blood-dashed, were falling fast; And of us many earthward flung thou hadst seen1150 Before the walls, like divers plunging, dead, Drenching the thirsty soil with streams of gore. ​But Atalanta's son—no Argive he— Hurls like a whirlwind at the gates, and shouts For fire and mattocks, as to raze the town.1155 But his mid-fury Periklymenus stayed, The Sea-god's son, who hurled a wain-load crag, A battlement-coping, down upon his shield, Spattered abroad the golden head, and rent The knittings of its bones: the cheeks dark-flushed1160 Dashed he with blood. No life shall he bear back To his archer-mother, Maid of Mænalus.
Then, marking how at this gate all went well, Passed to the next thy son, I following still. There saw I Tydeus with his serried shields,1165 With spears Aetolian javelining the height Of the roofless towers, that from the rampart's crest Ours fled in panic. But thy son again Rallies them, as the hunter cheers his hounds; So manned the walls anew. To other gates1170 On pressed we, having stayed the mischief there. But how the madness tell of Kapaneus? For, grasping the long ladder's scaling rounds, On came he, and thus haughtily vaunted he, That not Zeus' awful fire should hold him back1175 From razing from her topmost towers the town. Thus crying, ever as hailed the stones on him, He climbed, with body gathered 'neath his targe, Aye stepping from smooth ladder-rung to rung. But, even as o'er the ramparts rose his head,1180 Zeus smiteth him with lightning: rang again The earth, that all quailed. From the ladder flew His limbs abroad wide-whirling slingstone-like: Heavenward his hair streamed, earthward rained his blood: ​Hands, feet—Ixion on his wheel seemed he—1185 Whirled round. To earth he fell, a blasted corpse. Adrastus, seeing Zeus his army's foe, Without the trench drew off the Argive host. Then, marking Zeus's portent fair for us, Forth of the gates our horse their chariots drave:1190 Our footmen crashed through Argos' mid-array With levelled spears;—'twas turmoiled ruin all— Men dying—falling o'er the chariot-rails— Wheels leaping—axles upon axles dashed, And corpses heaped on corpses all confused.1195 So then for this day have we barred the fall Of our land's towers; but if good fortune waits On Thebes henceforth, this resteth with the Gods. Only a God's hand rescued her to-day.
Chorus.
Glorious is victory: if more gracious yet1200 The Gods' intent is, blessèd shall I be.
Jocasta.
Fair are the dealings of the Gods and Fate: For lo, my sons live, and the land hath 'scaped. But Kreon hath, meseems, reaped evil fruit Of mine and Oedipus' marriage—hapless sire,1205 Reft of his son, for blessing unto Thebes, But grief to him Take up the tale again, And tell what now my sons are bent to do.
Messenger.
Forbear the rest. Thus far 'tis well with thee.
Jocasta.
Thou stirr'st surmisings! I can not forbear.1210
Messenger.
How, wouldst thou more than know thy sons are safe?
Jocasta.
Yea, know if things to come be well for me.
Messenger.
Now let me go: thy son his henchman lacks.
Jocasta.
Some ill thou hid'st—in darkness veilest it!
Messenger.
I would not tell thee evil blent with good.1215
Jocasta.
That shalt thou—except to heaven thou wing thy flight.
Messenger.
Alas! why couldst thou let me not go hence After good tidings, but wouldst have the ill? Thy two sons purpose single fight, apart From all the host—a desperate deed of shame!1220 To Argives and Kadmeans one and all They spake that which would God they had left unsaid! Eteokles from a lofty tower began— Having bid publish silence to the host— And said: "O battle-chiefs of Hellas-land,1225 Lords of the Danaans who have hither come, Sell not your lives for nought, nor yet for mine. For I myself, of this risk freeing you, ​Alone will with my brother grapple in fight.1230 If I slay him, mine halls I hold alone: O'erthrown, I yield the city up to him. Argives, forbear the struggle, and return Unto your land, not leaving here your lives; And of the Sown suffice the already dead."1235 Thus spake he: Polyneikes then, thy son, Leapt from the ranks, and hailed the challenge-word; And all the Argives shouted yea to this, And Kadmus' folk, as righteous in their eyes. On these terms made they truce, and in mid-space1240 Took oaths whereby the chieftains should abide. Then ancient Oedipus' two sons straightway 'Gan case their bodies in all-brazen mail, Holpen of friends; by Theban lords the king Of this land, and by Danaan chiefs his brother.1245 There stood they gleaming,—never paled their cheeks,— Each panting at his foe to dart the spear. On this side and on that their friends drew nigh, With heartening words thus speaking unto them: "Thine, Polyneikes, is it to set up1250 Zeus' trophy-statue, and give Argos fame;" To Eteokles—"Thou for Thebes dost fight: Now triumph, and thou hold'st her sceptre fast." So did they hail them, cheering them to fight. And the priests slew the sheep: flame-tongue they marked,1255 And flame-cleft, steamy reek that bodeth ill, ​The pointed flame, which hath decisions twain, Betokening victory or overthrow. If any power thou hast, or cunning words, Or spell of charms, go, pluck thou back thy sons1260 From that dread strife; for grim the peril is, And dread the guerdon: tears shall be thy portion, If thou of two sons be this day bereaved.[Exit.
Jocasta.
Daughter Antigonê, come forth the house! No dances, neither toils of maiden hands,1265 Beseem thee in this hour of heaven's doom. But heroes twain, yea, brethren unto thee, Now deathward reeling, with thy mother thou Must hold from dying, each by other slain.
Enter Antigonê.
Antigone.
Mother that bare me, what strange terror-cry Before these halls to thy friends utterest thou?1270
Jocasta.
Daughter, thy brethren's life is come to nought.
Antigone.
How say'st thou?
Jocasta.
Met they are for single fight.
Antigone.
Woe! what wilt say?
Jocasta.
Nought welcome. Follow me.
Antigone.
Whither, from maiden-bowers?
Jocasta.
To the host.1275
Antigone.
I shrink from throngs!
Jocasta.
Shamefastness cannot help thee!
Antigone.
I—what can I do?
Jocasta.
Part thy brethren's strife.
Antigone.
Mother, whereby?
Jocasta.
Fall at their feet with me.
Antigone.
Lead to the mid-space! We may tarry not.
Jocasta.
Haste, daughter, haste : for, may I but forestall1280 ​My sons ere fighting, light of life is mine. If they be dead, dead with them will I lie.
[Exeunt.
Chorus.
(Str.)
Alas and alas! Shuddering, shuddering horror of soul have I: Through the very flesh of me pass Compassion-thrills for a mother in misery. Two sons—who, slain of the other, in blood shall lie? Woe, anguish, and dismay! Zeus!—Earth!—to you I pray!1290 Throat of a brother pierced—a brother sped!— Cleaving of shields, and blood of brethren shed! Woe's me and well-a-day! For whom shall I uplift my voice to wail him dead?
(Ant.)
O land, O land! Two ravening beasts, two spirits of murderous mood, With the battle-lust quivering they stand; But full soon shall bedabble a fallen foe with blood! Wretches, that ever on duel bent they stood!1300 With wail of alien tongue Shall my wild dirge be sung, Tears for the dead, and lamentation's cry. Fate presseth nearer, murder is hard by, In the sword's balance hung:— Curst slaughter, curst, the work of Vengeance-destiny!
Ha, 'tis Kreon I behold, that hitherward with clouded brow Hasteth to the palace. I will hush the wail begun but now.
Enter Kreon, with attendants bearing the body of Menoikeus.
Kreon.
What shall I do? Weeping shall I bemoan1310 Myself, or Thebes whom such a cloud o'erpalls That she through Acheron's night is passing now? Dead is my son! He died for fatherland, Winning a glorious name, but woe for me. Him from the Dragon's crags but now I caught1315 Self-slain, and woefully bare him in mine arms. My whole house wails. I for my sister come, Jocasta,—come, the old to seek the old,— To bathe and lay out this no more my son. For he who hath not died must reverence1320 The Nether-gods by honouring the dead.
Chorus.
Gone is thy sister, Kreon, forth the house; And with her went her child Antigonê.
Kreon.
Whither?—for what mischance? Declare to me.
Chorus.
The purpose of her sons she heard, to fight1325 In single combat for the royal halls.
Kreon.
How sayest thou? Lo, tending my son's corse, I came not to the knowledge of this deed.
Chorus.
Yea, hence thy sister parted long agone: And that death-struggle, Kreon, now, meseems,1330 Is ended 'twixt the sons of Oedipus.
Kreon.
Ah me! a token yonder do I see, The joyless eye and face of one who comes A messenger, to tell whate'er is done.
Enter Messenger.
Messenger.
Woe is me! what story can I tell, or utter forth what wail?1335
Kreon.
Ah, undone! With no fair-seeming prelude thou beginn'st thy tale.
Messenger.
Woe! Again I cry it, for I bring a burden of dismay Heaped upon calamities already wrought!
Kreon.
What wouldst thou say?
Messenger.
Kreon, those thy sister's sons behold no more the light of day.
Kreon.
Alas! Terrible ills for me and for Thebes dost thou tell—1340
Chorus.
O halls of Oedipus, have ye heard this?
Kreon.
Of sons that by the selfsame fate have died!
Chorus.
Their very stones might weep, could they but know.
Kreon.
Woe's me, the disaster, when fate's stroke heavily fell! Woe for my sorrows! Ah, unhappy I!1345
Messenger.
Ah, didst thou know the evils more than these!
Kreon.
What can be more calamitous than these?
Messenger.
Dead is thy sister—dead with her two sons.
Chorus.
Upraise, upraise the lamentation-strain,1350 Down on the head let blows of white hands rain!
Kreon.
Hapless Jocasta, what an end of life And marriage hast thou proved the Sphinx's riddle! ​How came to pass the death of her two sons, The strife, of Oedipus' curse that came?—declare.1355
Messenger.
The land's fair fortune in her towers' defence Thou know'st: the girdling walls be not so far But that thou mayest know whate'er is done. Now when in brazen mail they had clad their limbs, Those princes, sons of ancient Oedipus,1360 Into the mid-space went they forth and stood, Those chieftains two, those battle-leaders twain, As for the grapple and strife of single fight. Then, gazing Argos-ward, Polyneikes prayed: "Queen Hera,—for thine am I since I wed1365 Adrastus' child, and dwell within thy land,— Grant me to slay my brother, and to stain My warring hand with blood of victory!"— Asking a crown of shame, to slay a brother. Tears sprang from many an eye at that dread fate,1370 And each on other did men look askance. But unto golden-shielded Pallas' fane Eteokles looked, and prayed: "Daughter of Zeus, Grant that the conquering spear, of mine hand sped, Yea, from this arm, may smite my brother's breast,1375 And slay him who hath come to waste my land!" Then, when the Tuscan trump, like signal-torch, Rang forth the token of the bloody fray, Forth darted each at other in terrible rush; And, like wild boars that whet the tameless tusk,1380 Clashed they, foam-flakes beslavering their beards. With spears they lunged: yet crouched behind their shields, ​That so the steel might bootless glance aside. And, if one saw foe's eye peer o'er the targe, Aye thrust he, fain to overreach his fence.1385 Yet cunningly through eyelets of their shields They glanced, that nought awhile the spear achieved, While more from all beholders trickled sweat, Of fear for friends, than from the champions' selves. But Eteokles, spurning aside a stone1390 That rolled beneath his tread, without his shield Showed glimpse of fenceless limb. Polyneikes lunged, Marking the stroke so offered to the steel; And through the shank clear passed the Argive lance. Loud cheered the whole array of Danaus' sons.1395 But his foe's shoulder by that effort bared The stricken marked, and Polyneikes' breast Pierced with a strong spear-thrust, and gave back joy To Kadmus' folk; yet brake his spear-head short. So, his lance lost, back fell he step by step,1400 Caught up a rugged rock, and sped its flight, Snapping his foe's spear thwart. Now was the fray Equal, since either's hand was spear-bereft. Thereupon snatched they at their falchion- hilts, Closed, clashing shields, and, traversing to and fro,1405 Made rage the stormy clangour of the fight. But, having learnt it visiting their land, Eteokles used that feint Thessalian: For, from the instant grapple springing clear, Back on his left foot, backward still, he sinks,1410 Watching the while the belly of his foe. Then, with a right-foot rush, through the navel plunged His sword, and 'twixt the spine-bones wedged the point. Then, ribs and belly inarched in anguish-throe, Down-raining blood-gouts, Polyneikes falls.1415 ​Our king, as victor, winner of the fight, Casting his sword down, fell to spoiling him, Heeding but that, nor recking his own risk; Which thing undid him. Faintly breathing yet, Still grasping in his grievous fall his sword,1420 First-fallen Polyneikes with hard strain Plunged into Eteokles' heart the blade. Gnashing in dust their teeth, there side by side They lie, those twain, the victory doubtful still.
Chorus.
Alas! I wail thy sore griefs, Oedipus!1425 Thy malisons, I wot, hath God fulfilled.
Messenger.
Ah, but hear now what woes remain to tell. Even as her fallen sons were leaving life, Their wretched mother rusheth on the scene,— She and the maid, with haste of eager feet;1430 And, seeing them stricken with their mortal wounds, She wailed, "Ah sons, too late for help I come!" Then, falling on her sons, on each in turn, She wept, she wailed, her long vain nursing-toil Bemoaning: and their sister at her side—1435 "Props of your mother's age, dear brethren, who Leave me a bride unwed!" One dying gasp Hard-heaving from his breast, King Eteokles His mother heard, touched her with clammy hand, Uttered no word, but from his eyes he spake1440 With tears, as giving token of his love. But Polyneikes breathing yet, and gazing On sister and on aged mother, spake: "Mother, our death is this. I pity thee, ​And thee, my sister, and my brother dead.1445 Loved, he became my foe: but loved—yet loved! Bury me, mother, and thou, sister mine, In native soil, and our chafed city's wrath Appease ye, that I win thus much at least Of fatherland, though I have lost mine home.1450 And close thou up mine eyelids with thine hand, Mother;"—himself on his eyes layeth it— "And fare ye well: the darkness wraps me round." So both together breathed their sad life forth. And when the mother saw this woeful chance,1455 Grief-frenzied, from the dead she snatched a sword, And wrought a horror: for through her mid-neck She drives the steel, and with her best-beloved Lies dead, embracing with her arms the twain. Leapt to their feet the hosts with wrangling cries,—1460 We shouting that our lord was conqueror, They, theirs. And strife there was between the chiefs, These crying, "First smote Polyneikes' spear!" Those, "Both be dead: with none the victory rests!" Antigonê from the field had stol'n the while.1465 Then rushed the foe to arms: but Kadmus' folk By happy forethought under shield had halted. So we forestalled the Argive host, and fell Suddenly on them yet unfenced for fight. Was none withstood us: huddled o'er the plain1470 Fled they, and streamed the blood from slain untold ​By spears laid low. So, victors in the fight, Our triumph-trophy some 'gan rear to Zeus; And, some from Argive corpses stripping shields, Within our battlements the spoils we sent.1475 And others with Antigonê bear on The dead twain hither for their friends to mourn. So hath the strife had end for Thebes in part Most happily, in part most haplessly.
Chorus.
Not a grief for the hearing alone1480 Is the bale of the house: ye may see Here, now, yon corpses three By the palace, in death as one, To the life that is darkness gone.
Enter procession bearing corpses, with Antigone.
Antigone.
Never a veil o'er the tresses I threw O'er my soft cheek sweeping, Nor for maidenhood's shrinking I hid from view The hot blood leaping 'Neath mine eyes, when I rushed in the bacchanal dance for the dead, When I cast on the earth the tiring that bound mine head,1490 Loose flinging my bright robe saffron of hue— I, by whom corpses with wailing are grave ward led. Well wast thou named, Polyneikes!—Ah Thebes, woe's me!— ​No strife was thy strife: it was murder by murder brought To accomplishment, ruin to Oedipus' house, and fraught With bloodshed of horror, with bloodshed of misery. On what bard shall I call? What harper of dirges shall I bid come To wail the lament,—O home, mine home!—1500 While the tears, the tears fall, As I bear three bodies of kindred slain, Mother and sons, while the Fiend gloats over our woe Who brought in ruin the house of Oedipus low, In the day when the Songstress Sphinx's strain, So hard to read, by his wisdom was read, And the fierce shape down unto earth was sped? Woe for me, father mine! Who hath borne griefs like unto thine? What Hellene, or alien, or who that sprang1510 Of the ancient blood of a high-born line, Whose race in a day is run, hath endured in the sight of the sun Such bitter pang?
Woe's me for my dirge wild-ringing! What song-bird that rocketh on high, Mid the boughs of the oak-tree swinging, Or the pine-tree, will echo my cry, The moans of the motherless maiden, Who wail for the life without friend1520 I must know, who shall weep sorrow-laden Tears without end?
Over whom shall I make lamentation? Unto whom with rendings of hair ​Shall I first give sorrow's oblation? Shall I cast them, mine offerings, there Where the twin breasts are of my mother, Where a suckling babe I have lain, Or on ghastliest wounds of a brother Cruelly slain?
Come forth of thy chambers, blind father;1530 Ancient, thy sorrows lay bare, Who didst cause mist-darkness to gather On thine own eyes, thou who dost wear Weariful days out. O hearken, Whose old feet grope through the hall, Who in gloom that no night-tide can darken On thy pallet dost fall.
Enter Oedipus.
Oedipus.
Why hast thou drawn me, my child, to the light, Whose sightless hand to thine hand's prop clings,1540 Who was bowed on my bed amid chambers of night,— Hast drawn by a wail through tears that rings,— A white-haired shape, like a phantom that fades On the sight, or a ghost from the underworld shades, Or a dream that hath wings?
Antigone.
Woe is the word of my tidings to thee! Father, thy sons behold no more The light, nor thy wife, who aye upbore Thy blind limbs tirelessly, tenderly, O father, ah me!1550
Oedipus.
Ah me for my woes! Full well may I shriek, full well may I moan! By what doom have the spirits of these three flown From the light of life? O child, make known.
Antigone.
Not as reproaching, nor mocking, I tell, But in anguish. Thy curse, with its vengeance of hell, With swords laden, and fire, And ruthless contention, on thy sons fell: Woe's me, my sire!
Oedipus.
Alas for me!
Antigone.
Wherefore thy deep-drawn sigh?1560
Oedipus.
For my children!
Antigone.
Thine had been agony, To the Sun-god's chariot couldst thou but raise Thine eyes, couldst thou on these bodies gaze, Dead where they lie.
Oedipus.
For the evil fate of my sons, it is all too plain; But ah, mine unhappiest wife!—by what doom, O my child, was she slain?
Antigone.
Weeping and wailing, that all of her coming were ware, Hasted she. Unto her children she bare, O she bare Sacredest breasts of a mother with suppliant prayer. And she found her sons at Electra's portal,1570 In the mead with the clover fair, Closing with spears in the combat mortal: As lions that strive in their lair They grappled, with falchions ruthless-gashing: Yea, now the oblation of death fell plashing Which Ares giveth when Hades the spoil will share. And she snatched from the dead, and the bronze-hammered blade through her bosom she thrust; And in grief for her children, enclasping her children, she fell in the dust. Lo, all the griefs of our line, one marshalled array, Have been gathered, O father, against our house this day1580 Of the God in whose hands their accomplishment lay.
Chorus.
Many an ill to Oedipus' house begins This day. May happier life be yet in store!
Kreon.
Refrain laments: time is it we gave heed To burial. Unto these words, Oedipus,1585 Hearken: thy son Eteokles gave me rule O'er this land, making it a marriage-dower To Haimon with thy child Antigonê. Therefore thou mayest dwell therein no more; For plainly spake Teiresias—never Thebes1590 ​Shall prosper while thou dwellest in the land. Then get thee forth: this not despiteously I speak, nor as thy foe, but fearing hurt To Thebes by reason of thy vengeance-fiends.
Oedipus.
Fate, from the first to grief thou barest me,1595 And pain, beyond all men that ever were. Ere from my mother's womb I came to light, Phœbus to Laïus spake me, yet unborn, My father's murderer—ah, woe is me! When I was born, my father, my begetter,—1600 Doomed by mine hand to die,—accounting me From birth his foe, would slay me, sent me forth, A suckling yet, a wretched prey to beasts. Yet was I saved. Oh had Cithæron sunk Down to the bottomless chasms of Tartarus,1605 For that it slew me not!—but Fate gave me To be a bondman, Polybus my lord. So mine own father did I slay, and came,— Ah wretch!—unto mine hapless mother's couch. Sons I begat, my brethren, and destroyed,1610 Passing to them the curse received of Laïus. For not so witless am I from the birth, As to devise these things against mine eyes And my sons' life, but by the finger of God. Let be:—what shall I do, the fortune-crost?1615 Who shall companion me, my blind steps guide? She who is dead? O yea, were she alive! My sons, a goodly pair? Nay, I have none. Am I yet young, to win me livelihood? ​Whence? Wherefore, Kreon, slay me utterly?1620 For thou wilt slay, if forth the land thou cast. Yet never twining round thy knee mine hands A coward will I show me, to betray My noble birth, how ill soe'er I fare.
Kreon.
Well hast thou said thou wilt not clasp my knees.1625 I cannot let thee dwell within the land. Of these dead, this within the halls be borne Straightway: that,—who with aliens came to smite His father's city—Polyneikes' corpse, Without the land's bounds cast unburied forth.1630 To all Kadmeans shall this be proclaimed:— Whoso on this corpse laying wreaths is found, Or with earth hiding, death shall be his meed. Unwept, unburied, leave him meat for birds. But thou thy mourning for the corpses three,1635 Antigonê, leave, and get thee within doors. Thy maiden state until the morrow keep, Whereon the couch of Haimon waiteth thee.
Antigone.
Father, in what ills is our misery whelmed! For thee I make moan more than for the dead.1640 Thine ills are not part heavy and part light, But in all things art thou in woeful case. But thee I question, new-created king, Why outrage thus my sire with banishment? Wherefore make laws touching a hapless corse?1645
Kreon.
Eteokles' ordinance, not mine, is this.
Antigone.
'Tis senseless—witless thou who giv'st it force.
Kreon.
How, were't not just to carry out his hests?
Antigone.
If they be wrong, in malice spoken—no!
Kreon.
How, were't not just to cast yon man to dogs?1650
Antigone.
Nay: so ye wreak on him no lawful vengeance.
Kreon.
Yea, if to Thebes a foe, no foe by birth.
Antigone.
Hath he not unto fate paid forfeit life?
Kreon.
Forfeit of burial now too let him pay.
Antigone.
Wherein sinned he, who came to claim his own?1655
Kreon.
This man shall have no burial, be thou sure.
Antigone.
I, though the state forbid, will bury him.
Kreon.
Thyself then shalt thou bury with thy dead.
Antigone.
'Tis glorious that two friends lie side by side.
Kreon.
Seize ye this girl, and hale her within doors!1660
Antigone.
Never! for I will not unclasp this corpse.
Kreon.
God hath decreed, girl, not as seems thee good.
Antigone.
Yea—hath decreed this, Outrage not the dead!
Kreon.
Know, none shall spread the damp dust over him.
Antigone.
Nay!—for Jocasta's, for his mother's sake!1665
Kreon.
Vain is thy labour: this thou shalt not win.
Antigone.
Suffer at least that I may bathe the corpse.
Kreon.
This shall be of the things the state forbids.
Antigone.
Let me at least bind up his cruel wounds.
Kreon.
Thou shalt in no wise honour this dead man.1670
Antigone.
Belovèd! on thy lips this kiss at least—
Kreon.
Ruin thy marriage not by thy laments.
Antigone.
How! living shall I e'er wed son of thine?
Kreon.
Needs must thou. Whither from the couch wilt flee?
Antigone.
Me shall that night a Danaus' Daughter prove.1675
Kreon. (to Oedipus).
Dost mark how rails she in her recklessness?
Antigone. (raising Polyneikes' sword).
Witness the steel—this sword whereby I swear.
Kreon.
Wherefore so eager to avoid this bridal?
Antigone.
I will share exile with mine hapless sire.
Kreon.
Noble thy spirit, yet lurks folly there.1680
Antigone.
Yea, and with him will die. Know this withal.
Kreon.
Thou shalt not slay my son. Hence, leave the land!
[Exit Kreon.
Oedipus.
Daughter, for thy devotion thank I thee.
Antigone.
I marry, father,—thou in exile lone!
Oedipus.
Ah stay: be happy. I will bear mine ills.1685
Antigone.
Who then will minister to thy blindness, father?
Oedipus.
Where my weird is, there shall I fall, there lie.
Antigone.
Ah, where is Oedipus?—where that riddle famed?
Oedipus.
Lost. One day blessed me, one hath ruined me.
Antigone.
Is it not then my due to share thine ills?1690
Oedipus.
'Twere a maid's shame,—exile with her blind sire!
Antigone.
Nay, but—so she be wise—her glory, father.
Oedipus.
That I may touch thy mother, guide me now.
Antigone.
Lo, touch her with thine hand—so old, so dear!
Oedipus.
Ah mother! Ah, most hapless helpmeet mine!1695
Antigone.
Piteous she lies, with all ills crowned at once.
Oedipus.
Eteokles' corse, and Polyneikes'—where?
Antigone.
Here lie they, each by other's side outstretched.
Oedipus.
Lay my blind hand upon their ill-starred brows.
Antigone.
Lo there: touch with thine hand thy children slain.1700
Oedipus.
Dear hapless dead sons of a hapless sire!
Antigone.
Ah Polyneikes, name most dear to me!
Oedipus.
Now, child, doth Loxias' oracle come to pass,—
Antigone.
What? Wilt thou tell new ills beside the old?
Oedipus.
That I, a wanderer, should in Athens die.1705
Antigone.
Where? What Athenian burg shall harbour thee?
Oedipus.
Hallowed Colonus, Chariot-father's home. On then: to this thy blind sire minister, Since thou art fixed to share my banishment.
Antigone.
To woeful exile pass away.1710 Stretch forth, O father hoary-grey, Thy dear hand: grasp me. Thee I lead, As breeze wafts on the galley's speed.
Oedipus.
Lo, daughter, I pass on: Thou guide me, hapless one.
Antigone.
Hapless I am—thou sayest well— Above all maids in Thebes that dwell.
Oedipus.
Where shall I plant mine old feet now? Reach me my staff, O daughter thou.
Antigone.
Hitherward, hitherward, tread:1720 Let thy feet follow hither mine hand, O strengthless as dream of the night!
Oedipus.
Ah thou who on wretchedest exile hast sped The old man forth of his fatherland! Ah woes I have borne! Ah horror's height!
Antigone.
Thou hast borne?—thou hast borne?—doth Justice regard not then The sinner? Requiteth she not the follies of men?
Oedipus.
Lo, I am he on breath Of song upraised to heaven, When that dark riddle of the Maid of Death1730 To me to read was given.
Antigone.
Why raise the ghost of shame, the Sphinx's story? Forbear to vaunt too late that faded glory. For thee this anguish lay the while in wait, Far from thy land to know the exile's fate, And, father, in some place unknown to die. To maids who love me leaving tears of yearning, From fatherland an exile unreturning, I wander far in plight unmaidenly.
Oedipus.
Woe for the heart where duty's fire is burning!1740
Antigone.
Twined with my father's sad renown This shall be mine unfading crown. Woe for thy wrongs! Brother, alas for thine, Who from thine home a tombless corse art thrust, Hapless! Though death, my sire, for this be mine, Yet will I veil him secretly with dust.
Oedipus.
Show thee again to thy companions' eyes.
Antigone.
Why should they weep? Mine own laments suffice.
Oedipus.
Then at the altars bow with suppliant cry.
Antigone.
They weary of my tale of misery.1750
Oedipus.
Seek at the least the haunt of Revel's God Mid Mænad hills by foot profane untrod.
Antigone.
How!—render homage without heart To Him, for whom erstwhile arrayed In Theban fawnskins, I had part In Semelê's holy dance that swayed By hill, by glade?
Oedipus.
People of a glorious nation, mark me—Oedipus am I, He who read the riddle world-renowned, the man once set on high, He whose single prowess quelled the Sphinx's blood-polluted might.1760 Now dishonoured am I banished from the land in piteous plight. Yet what boots it thus to wail? What profits vainly to lament? Whoso is but mortal needs must bear the fate of heaven sent.
[Exeunt Oedipus and Antigone.
Chorus.
Hail, reverèd Victory! Rest upon my life; and me Crown, and crown eternally!
[Exeunt omnes.
* ↑ The Sphinx, couched on a rock commanding the entrance to Thebes, proposed this riddle to all who attempted to pass:— "There's a thing two-footed on earth,—four-footed,—three-footed; yet one Is the voice thereof; and it changeth its form, this thing alone Of all that on earth walk, soar through the air, or in sea- depths swim. But lo, whensoever on most limbs borne it essayeth to run, Then is it ever the weakest, the slowest in speed of limb." All, failing to solve it, were torn to pieces, till Oedipus expounded it thus:— "Hearken, how loth soever, thou foul-winged Muse of the slain, Unto my voice which tells thee the end of thy guile and thy doom. Man is the thing thou hast named: four-footed he crawls on the plain, What time he hath first come forth a babbling babe from the womb. And when he is old, must a staff, as a third foot, his weakness sustain, As he stoopeth his neck 'neath the load of his years, as he bows to the tomb." Thereupon the Sphinx hurled herself from the rock, and was killed.
* ↑ According to MS. reading, "O Child of the Sun-god, the Lord of the radiant zone."
* ↑ In Bacchus' temple on Parnassus was a vine which was said to yield one ripe cluster daily, to furnish the libation for the God.
* ↑ Al. "shrines."
* ↑ Kadmus, founder of Thebes, and Agenor, founder of Tyre, were both descendants of Io.
* ↑ i.e. Shall see the defeat of those whose leader he is.
* ↑ The fratricidal strife between Eteokles and Polyneikes.
* ↑ "For the steel of itself hath a spell, and it draweth men on unto war."—Odyssey, xix, 13.
* ↑ Paley, reading ὀνομάσαι, interprets "But fairness nor equality men regard, Save so to name them; no such thing exists."
* ↑ Intimating that Eteokles has (as commonly happens with kings) too much to lose to be willing to risk it in a personal encounter.
* ↑ Bacchus, born of Semelê in the hour when she was consumed by the lightnings amid which Zeus appeared to her. The infant god was hidden among ivy from the vengeance of Hera.
* ↑ Kadmus, after slaying the dragon-warder of the fountain of Dirkê, sowed its teeth, from which a crop of armed men at once arose. He cast a stone amongst them, and they straightway attacked each other, and fought till five only were left. These followed Kadmus, and became the fathers of the indigenous Thebans, the "Sown Men," as they styled themselves.
* ↑ Al. "I know them by repute right valorous."
* ↑ Harmonia, daughter of Ares, was given by the Gods to Kadmus to wife.
* ↑ The mule-car was used by ladies, who required (cf. Electra, 999, and Iph. Aul., 617) a supporting hand in alighting, just as the old man did in walking.
* ↑ Reading αἴνει vice αἰτεῖ, "ills inevitable thou cravest."
* ↑ Reading κτείνειν. Al. κτείνων, "Let no man praise me while he slays my sons."
* ↑ Reading σώσων for σώσω (Paley), "then I flee for life."
* ↑ Nauck's reading. Paley's, "I yield them up to him alone."
* ↑ Another reading, "The chiefs took oaths, whereby they should abide."
* ↑ So Nauck; according to Paley, "And, for dread guerdon, tears," etc.
* ↑ Reading ξίφος.
* ↑ Kreon's mental attitude, through which he forebodes evil everywhere (cf. 1311–12), countenances this rendering, though συμφορὰ does not necessarily mean more than "occurrence."
* ↑ Reading γόους (Porson, adopted by Nauck). From the fact that this messenger resumes (l. 1359), with no prefatory explanation of the situation, the narrative exactly at the point where it was broken off at line 1258, I have assumed that the poet meant him to be identical with the former one.
* ↑ Reading αἰτῶν, with Nauck.
* ↑ It was the habit of Greek soldiers, on every occasion of a halt, even in presence of a foe, and on the eve of battle, to disburden themselves of their heavy shields and long spears, which they piled outside the ranks. The delay involved in resuming them was sometimes disastrous; yet such action as that here ascribed to the Thebans remained quite exceptional.
* ↑ i.e. The man of much strife (cf. l. 636).
* ↑ Reading πεφυκέναι, vice δυσδαίμονα, "ill-starred."
* ↑ Nauck reads ἐχθαρτέος, "Hate is his due, if he was foe to Thebes."
* ↑ οὔκουν (Nauck).
* ↑ Alluding to the murder of the sons of Aegyptus by Danaus' daughters, whom they wedded perforce.
* ↑ Poseidon, the Sea-god, who created the first war-horse.
* ↑ Of the worship of Dionysus jubilant dance and song were essential features: since she could henceforth but simulate the Bacchic rapture, she feels that her presence would be a profanation.