*
CHARACTERS
Oedipus, formerly King of Thebes
Antigone, his younger daughter
Ismene, his elder daughter
Theseus, King of Athens
Creon, King of Thebes
Polynices, son of Oedipus
A Countryman of Colonus
A Messenger
Chorus of elders of Colonus
Attendants on Theseus
Attendants on Creon
*
The action of the play takes place in a rustic landscape. The usual central exit from the stage presents the appearance of a rocky path leading by irregular steps to a thickly-wooded grotto. A stone figure, or relief, depicting a rider on a horse, is visible. Exits to right and left lead respectively to the road to Athens, and to the country and sea-coast.
Enter from the country OEDIPUS, white-haired, blind, and in squalid garments, guided by his daughter ANTIGONE.
OEDIPUS: Tell me, Antigone – where have you come to now
With your blind old father? What is this place, my child?
Country, or town? Whose turn is it to-day
To offer a little hospitality to the wandering Oedipus?
It’s little I ask, and am well content with less.
Three masters – pain, time, and the royalty in the blood –
Have taught me patience. Is there a resting-place,
My child, where I could sit, on common ground
Or in some sacred close? And while I rest,
Ask someone where we are. Strangers like us
Must be taught by the natives and do as they desire.
ANTIGONE: Dear father, I can see towers and a city wall
That seem a long way off. Here, where we are,
There is a kind of sacred precinct, overgrown
With laurel bushes, olive, and wild-vine;
And it is full of the voices of many nightingales.
There is a seat of natural rock. Sit down and rest.
You have come a long way, father.
OEDIPUS: Yes, let me sit.
Lead me, my child. Take care of the blind old man.
ANTIGONE: I should know that lesson by this time, father.
She guides him to a seat within the grove.
OEDIPUS: Now…
Can you tell me where we have come to?
ANTIGONE: Athens I know,
But am a stranger here.
OEDIPUS: Like everyone we met!
ANTIGONE: Shall I go and ask someone what place it is?
OEDIPUS: Yes, child, if there is anyone dwelling hereabout.
ANTIGONE: Surely there must be. Oh, but I need not go. I think I see someone approaching now.
OEDIPUS:
Coming this way? Is he coming towards us, Antigone?
ANTIGONE: Yes.
A COUNTRYMAN of Colonus enters.
He’s here. Speak, father; he is before you now.
OEDIPUS:
Stranger, my daughter, whose eyes are mine and hers,
Tells me there is someone here who can answer our questions.
COUNTRYMAN: Sir, before you ask me any question,
Come from that seat. That place is holy ground.
OEDIPUS: Is it so? To what god is it dedicated, then?
COUNTRYMAN:
It may not be touched, and none may live upon it.
Dread goddesses own it, daughters of Earth and Darkness.
OEDIPUS: What may I call these holy ones in my prayers?
COUNTRYMAN:
As you will; to each the custom of his country;
We call them here the All-seeing Kindly Ones.
OEDIPUS: Then may they be gracious to their suppliant;
For here is the place where I must stay for ever.
COUNTRYMAN: What does this mean?
OEDIPUS: It was fated, and this is the sign.
COUNTRYMAN:
I would not take it upon me to remove you, sir,
Until I have reported to the city for my instructions.
OEDIPUS: At least, good stranger, do not deny me the favour,
Poor wanderer such as I am, to answer my question.
COUNTRYMAN: Ask. I will not refuse you.
OEDIPUS: What is this place?
COUNTRYMAN:
To tell you as much as I know, it is sacred ground,
All this; the great god Poseidon, and the giant Prometheus,
The Lord of Fire, possess it. The spot you stand on
Is called the Brazen Threshold, the Rock of Athens.
This rider is Colonus, known to the country around
As her lord and master, whose name her people bear.
It is not such a place as is famed in song and story,
But its name is great in the hearts of those that live here.
OEDIPUS:
How? Are there people dwelling in this neighbourhood?
COUNTRYMAN:
Surely; their name is the name of their sacred hero.
OEDIPUS: Ruled by one man, or by the general voice?
COUNTRYMAN: The king of the city rules here too.
OEDIPUS: Who is it
That owns this power of counsel and command?
COUNTRYMAN:
His name is Theseus; his father before him was Aegeus.
OEDIPUS:
Could one of your people go as a messenger to him?
COUNTRYMAN:
To tell him something, or to invite his presence?
OEDIPUS: A little service may win him a great reward.
COUNTRYMAN:
What kind of reward has a blind man power to give?
OEDIPUS: My words shall not be blind, sir.
COUNTRYMAN: My good friend.
One can see you are a good man, though in no good plight;
And I would speak for your good. Stay where you are,
Where first I saw you, while I go and tell the people –
Not the city folk, but the dwellers hereabout –
What I have seen; and they will decide what is best
Whether you should stay or go away from here.
Exit.
OEDIPUS: Has the stranger gone, my child?
ANTIGONE: He has gone, father. There is no one here but I. Say what you like.
OEDIPUS prays.
OEDIPUS: O Holy Ones of awful aspect,
Whose throne, this seat, was my first resting-place
In these lands; be gracious to me, be gracious to Apollo,
Who, with the evil doom he cast upon me,
Promised me also this rest in the time to come,
That I should find at last at the seat of the Holy Ones
Sanctuary, and an end of my tormented days;
And on them that received me in my sojourning should be great blessing,
With affliction upon them that spurned me and drove me out.
This was the sign he gave that these things should be:
Earthquake or thunder or the lightning fires of heaven.
And now I know it is by your certain guidance
That I have travelled the road to this sacred place.
No other hand could have led me, at my first coming,
The sober penitent, to you whom wine delights not,
Or brought me to this sacred seat of living rock.
Now, therefore, Holy Ones, according to the word of Apollo,
Grant me, I pray, this fulfilment and close of life,
If I have found favour, and am not doomed for ever
To groan beneath the heaviest of mortal burdens.
Hear, O gracious daughters of old night!
Hear, O city of Pallas, Queen of cities!
O Athens, have pity on this poor relic of Oedipus,
The shadow, no more the man!
ANTIGONE: Father, enough.
Some elders of the place are coming to look for you,
And see where you have rested.
OEDIPUS: I will be silent.
Yes, hide me, child, hide me from them in the grove
Till we hear what they will say. It will be safest
To know before we act.
They retire into the sacred grove.
Enter the CHORUS of elders of Colonus, speaking severally as
they search for the intruder.
CHORUS:
Where? Who is it? Where? He was here.
Where is he hiding?
How dare he?
Look out. Look about.
Look round everywhere.
An old man – some wandering foreigner;
None of us here
Would venture into the sacred close.
The implacable goddesses – Hush!
Take not their name in vain.
Look not, speak not, utter a silent prayer
As you pass.
They told us a trespasser
Was here. Not a sign of him now
Anywhere near the precinct.
Where can he be?
OEDIPUS (appearing at the entrance of the grove, with ANTIGONE): I am the man –
One of those of whom they say,
Ears are his eyes.
CHORUS: Oh! Sacrilege to see and hear!
OEDIPUS: But I intend no wrong.
CHORUS: Who is he? God defend us!
OEDIPUS: Good elders, I am a man whom none would call
Well-used by fortune.
Look, how I make my way by aid of borrowed eyes,
And lean my strength
Upon this one weak prop.
CHORUS: Your eyes!
Were you from birth
Afflicted so? Long life,
And sorrowful, is written in your looks.
I cannot let you stand
Under this curse. Away!
You have trespassed, O too far.
You must not walk in the silent dell,
There, where the water and the honey-draught are poured.
Take care, rash visitor; take care!
O hurry away!
Does my voice reach you there
So far? Poor wanderer,
If you have anything to say,
Leave the forbidden ground,
And speak where speech is lawful,
Or else be silent.
OEDIPUS: What shall we do, my child?
ANTIGONE: We must obey, and do whatever the custom of the land requires.
OEDIPUS: Give me your hand.
ANTIGONE: Here, father.
OEDIPUS: Do me no wrong, strangers, if I remove myself and put my trust in you.
CHORUS: No one will force you, sir, to quit your resting-place against your will.
OEDIPUS and ANTIGONE move a little way out of the grove.
OEDIPUS: Further yet?
CHORUS: Further.
OEDIPUS: Again?
CHORUS: Lady, lead him; you understand us.
ANTIGONE: Feel your dark way as I lead you, father.
CHORUS: Stranger on foreign soil,
Beware, poor wanderer:
Hate whatsoever we have learned to hate,
And what we love, revere.
OEDIPUS: Take me, child, to where we may converse without transgression. We must comply with what is necessary.
They reach a platform of rock at the edge of the grove.
CHORUS:
Stay now: you need not come beyond that slab of rock.
OEDIPUS: Here?
CHORUS: It is far enough.
OEDIPUS: I may sit?
CHORUS: To your left, there’s a jutting ledge, low down.
ANTIGONE: I’ll show you, father. Carefully now –
OEDIPUS: O dear!
ANTIGONE: One step at a time. Lean on my arm.
OEDIPUS: I am so helpless.
He reaches the seat of rock.
CHORUS: Now you’re at ease, poor soul.
Tell us: who are you, sir?
Your name, and why you wander in this plight,
And where your homeland is.
OEDIPUS (in alarm): I have no home. You must not –
CHORUS: Must not what?
OEDIPUS: Not ask me who I am – not ask me anything.
CHORUS: But why?
OEDIPUS: So awful an origin –
CHORUS: Say then –
OEDIPUS: O child, what can I say?
CHORUS: Will you not tell us who your father was?
OEDIPUS: O child, child, what shall I do?
ANTIGONE: Tell them, since you have said so much.
OEDIPUS: I must; I cannot hide it.
CHORUS: We’re waiting to hear.
OEDIPUS: Maybe you know of one called Laius –
CHORUS (a gasp of horror): Ah!
OEDIPUS: And the house of the sons of Labdacus –
CHORUS: O God!
OEDIPUS: And the luckless Oedipus?
CHORUS: You – he?
OEDIPUS: But have no fear –
CHORUS (a prolonged shout of execration): Ah… !
OEDIPUS (amid the clamour): My child, my child, what are they going to do?
CHORUS: Away! Fly! Begone! Out of our country!
OEDIPUS: You promised – what of your promise?
CHORUS: No one is punished for paying like for like.
Trick-for-trick is the game now;
Favours are forfeit. Out you go!
Quit the country, before you soil it with worse corruption.
Away! Away!
ANTIGONE comes down to plead with them.
ANTIGONE: Sirs, sirs, you are just and reverent men;
Though you refuse to hear my poor blind father,
Because of the things he is known to have done –
Though they were none of his own devising –
Yet have some pity for me, I beseech you!
Only for my father’s sake I am pleading.
Let my eyes speak for him, mine to yours,
As it might be a child of your own flesh speaking,
Asking for pity for one in trouble.
We have no help but you; you are gods to us.
We scarce dare hope. Have mercy on us.
By all you love – wives, children, treasure;
For your God’s sake.
God leads us, and no man living
Walks any other way
Than the way God sets before him.
CHORUS: Daughter of Oedipus, we pity you no less than him
For all you suffer; but we fear what the gods may send;
And, fearing, cannot say other than we have said.
OEDIPUS: Ah, then, what help are honour and good name
That end in nothing? There is no help in them.
Is this the reputed godliness of Athens,
City of justice, where, if anywhere,
The suffering stranger should look for refuge and help?
Where are they then for me? You would drive me, would you,
From my sanctuary, then hound me from your land?
Afraid of my very name? What else? My arm,
My strength? My strength has been in suffering,
Not doing – as you should hear, could I but tell it;
Could tell all that my father and my mother did –
Whence comes, I know, your fear. Was I the sinner?
Repaying wrong for wrong – that was no sin,
Even were it wittingly done, as it was not.
I did not know the way I went. They knew;
They, who devised this trap for me, they knew!
Therefore I beseech you, strangers, by the gods:
You moved me from this place; you must protect me,
Not pay the gods lip-service, only to deny
Their due respect. They look on the godly man
And on the ungodly too. Yes, it is so.
No godless man on earth ever escaped them.
May they be with you, then; and you, forbear,
Forbear to darken the bright star of Athens
By any impious act! I have your pledge.
You accepted my supplication; guard me well.
These ugly scars (his eyes) must not forbid your kindness.
I am a holy man, and by holy ordinance
My presence here is to bring this people blessing.
When the King, your master, comes, you shall know all
And understand. Till then, do me no wrong.
CHORUS: Sir, these are solemn words.
We are sensible of the awful import of your pleadings,
And can say no more. The King must be your judge.
OEDIPUS: Yes, where is the ruler of this country, sirs?
CHORUS:
In the city of the land, where his father ruled before him.
That man who found you here and summoned us
Has gone to bring him.
OEDIPUS: And will he come, do you think?
Will he come in person to see a poor blind man?
CHORUS:
To be sure he will, when he has heard your name.
OEDIPUS (in alarm):
How will he know it? I did not tell it him.
CHORUS: News travels; there will be rumours on the way,
For it’s a goodish step; and when he hears,
He’ll come. Your name is known in all the world.
Though he be sleeping, or at his ease, your name
Will bring him fast enough.
OEDIPUS: And may his coming
Bring fulfilment of happiness to his city, as to me!
Goodness must bring its reward, sirs, must it not?
ANTIGONE has been looking off into the distance, and now sees a newcomer approaching.
ANTIGONE: O Zeus! A miracle! Father, am I dreaming?
OEDIPUS: My child?
What is it?
ANTIGONE: I can see a woman coming this way.
Riding on a colt of Etna; her face is shaded
By a broad Thessalian hat. Is it she? Am I wrong?
Yes… No… I can’t be sure. Oh what am I thinking of?
It is! It is! She is smiling as she comes.
She is making signs. It is she! My own Ismene!
OEDIPUS: It cannot be.
ANTIGONE:
Your daughter! My sister! My eyes cannot deceive me,
And you shall soon believe your ears.
Enter ISMENE.
ISMENE: Father!
And sister! O dearest ones! I have found you at last,
And now can hardly see you through my tears.
OEDIPUS: My child, is it you?
ISMENE: My poor unhappy father!
OEDIPUS: Are you come at last?
ISMENE: At last, and with what trouble.
OEDIPUS: Touch me, dear child.
ISMENE: A hand for each of you.
OEDIPUS: Sisters together.
ISMENE: O this poor sad life!
OEDIPUS: My life and hers?
ISMENE: And mine; three joined in sorrow.
OEDIPUS: Why did you come, my child?
ISMENE: Thinking of you.
OEDIPUS: With longing?
ISMENE: Yes, and I had things to tell you
By my own mouth, so had to come alone
With the only faithful servant that I have.
OEDIPUS:
Your brothers, where are they in your hour of need?
ISMENE:
They are – where they are. All is not well with them.
OEDIPUS (angry):
What then? They ape Egyptian manners, do they,
Where men keep house and do embroidery
While wives go out to earn the daily bread?
Instead of troubling themselves about my business,
They sit at home like girls and let you two
Bear all the burden of my calamities.
Antigone here, ever since she grew up
To womanhood, has been an old man’s nurse;
Poor child, the partner of his vagrant life,
Hungry and barefoot, she has roamed the wilds,
Through sun and storm, unflinching, with no thought
For home-keeping, so that her father should not want.
And you, Ismene, have come from time to time
Eluding the people of Thebes, to bring me word
Of any oracle concerning me;
You were my faithful spy, when I was banished.
What is the message now? What errand, Ismene?
You had some purpose; some warning of danger, perhaps?
ISMENE: Father, I will not tell you what trouble I had
To find out where you were and how you lived;
Enough the experience without the telling again.
My message now is about the unhappy story
Of your ill-starred sons.
At first, calmly reflecting
On the old ancestral curse that has held our house
In its deadly grip, they were content that Creon
Should keep the throne, and the city be cleared of stain.
But now, some demon, or the lust of their sinful hearts,
Has filled them with an evil spirit of emulation,
A damnable ambition for power and kingly dominion.
Polynices, the elder, has already been ousted from the throne
By his hot-brained brother, and banished from the fatherland;
And rumour has it he hides in the vale of Argos,
Contracting a new alliance and gathering about him
A train of armed companions, meaning to fight
Till Argos gloriously triumph over Thebes
Or see her star in the ascendant.
These are not tales, father; this is the truth,
And bitter truth. What mercy the gods will show
On your distress, is more than I can tell.
OEDIPUS: And did you think the gods would yet deliver me?
ISMENE: The present oracles give me that hope.
OEDIPUS: What oracles are they? What prophecy?
ISMENE:
The people of Thebes shall desire you, for their safety,
After your death, and even while you live.
OEDIPUS: What good can such as I bring any man?
ISMENE:
They say it is in you that they must grow to greatness.
OEDIPUS: Am I made man in the hour when I cease to be?
ISMENE: If the gods, who cast you down, now raise you up.
OEDIPUS: A poor return: youth lost, and age rewarded.
ISMENE: Creon will surely come to see to it,
And it will not be long before he comes.
OEDIPUS: What will he come to do?
ISMENE: To set you close to Theban land, and so
Possess you, though you may not touch their soil.
OEDIPUS:
How can I help them, remaining beyond their borders?
ISMENE: If ill befall your grave, it falls on them.
OEDIPUS:
That could have been guessed without a god’s instruction!
ISMENE:
Well, prompted by this, they seek to have you near them,
Not leave you to your own devices.
OEDIPUS: So?
And will they wrap me in their Theban earth?
ISMENE: That cannot be done. Blood-guiltiness forbids it.
OEDIPUS: Then they shall never have me!
ISMENE: Thebes will suffer.
OEDIPUS: In what event?
ISMENE: Under your wrath, when they approach your grave.
A pause.
OEDIPUS: Who told you this, my child?
ISMENE: Envoys were sent
To the Delphian hearth, and brought this message back.
OEDIPUS: Was it indeed of me the god thus spoke?
ISMENE: That was their message.
OEDIPUS: Do my sons know this?
ISMENE: Both know it; and well they understand its purport.
OEDIPUS:
Villains, then they would rather have their kingdom
Than have their father back!
ISMENE: Alas, it is true.
OEDIPUS: Then may no god assuage the bitterness
Of their predestined battle! The bloody warfare
They have in hand, were I the arbiter,
I would so end that neither he should stay
Who now holds power, nor he that was expelled
Ever return. I was their father, banished
With ignominy from my fatherland,
And they did nothing to rescue or defend me;
Heard me cried outlaw, exiled, and did nothing.
You say I wished it so, and it was right
The city should grant my wish? It was not so.
I wished for death that day; I longed for death
That day when my soul was on fire, I asked for stones
To cover me; none gave me my desire.
Time passed, and the pain abated, and I knew
How much my wrath had overleaped itself
To punish me too heavily for my sins.
Then, then, so late, my city banished me
By forced expulsion. And they, who could have helped me
As sons should help their father, they did nothing.
For want of a little word, I went an outcast
To end my days in misery.
Only these two, my daughters, have done all
That women could, to give me what I need,
Food, and safe conduct, and their loving care.
Their brothers sold their father for a throne,
Preferred the sceptre and the kingly power.
I shall not help them; nothing good will come
Of their ruling over Thebes; of that I am sure
When I hear these oracles my daughter tells me of,
And remember those I have known of old, which Phoebus
Has brought at last to their fulfilment here.
So let them send Creon to look for me,
Or any other mighty man of Thebes!
If you, my friends, will stand beside me now,
With those stern goddesses that live among you,
Your land shall win a great deliverer,
And punishment shall strike my enemies down.
CHORUS:
We are very sorry for you, Oedipus, and for your daughters;
Moreover your claim to be a source of strength to our land
Persuades me now to advise you for your good.
OEDIPUS: Dear friend,
Stand by me and I will do all that you advise.
CHORUS: Then make amends at once to the divinities
On whose ground you trespassed at your first coming here.
OEDIPUS: Instruct me. What are the rites that I must use?
CHORUS: Bring holy water from where a fresh spring flows;
In clean hands bring it.
OEDIPUS: A pure libation. Then?
CHORUS: There are vessels there, of delicate workmanship.
Cover their brims and handles on either side –
OEDIPUS: With sprigs of leaf, or woollen stuffs, maybe?
CHORUS:
With lamb’s wool newly shorn that will be given you.
OEDIPUS: I understand. And then to complete the rite?
CHORUS: Pour the drink-offering, your face towards the dawn.
OEDIPUS: From the vessels you spoke of?
CHORUS: Ay, in three libations,
Of which only the last you empty wholly.
OEDIPUS: What will this last contain?
CHORUS: Water and honey.
No wine is to be added.
OEDIPUS: I understand.
The sunless earth will drink it up. And then?
CHORUS: With both hands thrice nine sprays of olive lay,
While you thus pray.
OEDIPUS: The prayer – ay, this I must mark.
CHORUS: Pray you – or any other on your behalf –
That these whom we have called the Kindly Ones
Will kindly look upon their suppliant,
Who is a saviour too. Pray softly thus,
Not lifting up your voice; then turn, and go.
This done, I will defend you without fear;
Undone, I have no hope for you.
OEDIPUS: My children,
You hear the advice of those who know this place?
ANTIGONE:
We have heard it, father. What would you have us do?
OEDIPUS: I cannot go; I am not strong enough,
And blindness makes me helpless. One of you
Must go and act for me. In such a service
One soul, sincere in faith, may stand for thousands.
Go, one of you, quickly; the other stay with me.
I cannot move hand or foot without a helper.
ISMENE: I’ll do what is required. But I must know
Where the place is.
CHORUS: Beyond the coppice, lady.
An attendant there will show you all you need.
ISMENE: I’ll go. Look after our father here, Antigone.
We cannot grudge our pains when parents need us.
ISMENE goes into the grove.
CHORUS: Cruel it is to awake long-sleeping sorrow;
Yet I would ask –
OEDIPUS: What now?
CHORUS: Of that affliction to which you were apprenticed,
That seemed past mending.
OEDIPUS: Kind hosts, do not pry
Into the infamous things then done to me.
CHORUS: We ask to know the truth
Of what is, to this day, so widely bruited.
OEDIPUS: O shame!
CHORUS: Be patient, I entreat you –
OEDIPUS: Too horrible!
CHORUS: – as we have granted your requests.
OEDIPUS: I tell you, then, I have endured
Foulest injustice; I have endured
Wrong undeserved; God knows
Nothing was of my choosing.
CHORUS: And the event?
OEDIPUS: Shamefully wedded – tied for my city’s sake
To a marriage of infamy, unbeknown!
CHORUS: Your mother, as is said,
The partner in this bond of shame?
OEDIPUS: To hear it uttered is a death to me. And more –
These two – are mine –
CHORUS: No!
OEDIPUS: Children, and curse-bearers –
CHORUS: O God!
OEDIPUS: And fruit of the same mother’s womb.
CHORUS: Your daughters and your… ?
OEDIPUS: Sisters! Ay, their father’s sisters!
CHORUS: Horror!
OEDIPUS: Horror, and horror recoiling a thousand times
Upon my head.
CHORUS: A fate –
OEDIPUS: A fate appalling.
CHORUS: What you did –
OEDIPUS: No doing of mine.
CHORUS: How so?
OEDIPUS: A gift – it was my city’s gift,
A prize for what I did for her!
Would I had never earned it,
To be so cursed!
CHORUS: And more – unluckier yet –
Did you not kill –
OEDIPUS: What more? What more do you ask?
CHORUS: Your father?
OEDIPUS: Must you strike again? More agony?
CHORUS: You killed him?
OEDIPUS: Yes, with justice.
CHORUS: Justice?
OEDIPUS: Yes. You shall hear.
He whom I killed
Had sought to kill me first. The law
Acquits me, innocent, as ignorant,
Of what I did.
A watcher now descries the approach of THESEUS and his train.
CHORUS:
He is coming! King Theseus, Aegeus’ son, comes here.
He has heard your request and comes to do you service.
Enter THESEUS. He stands before OEDIPUS, recognising him with grave respect.
THESEUS: The son of Laius. Yes. From all I have heard,
Long since and often, about the bloody act
That closed your eyes, you are no stranger to me.
And what they told me on my way assures me
That you are really he. The wounded face,
The pitiful dress, confirm it.
Then, sad Oedipus,
Compassion bids me ask you with what suit
To Athens or to me you here present yourself
With your companion in distress. Speak freely.
There is no circumstance that you can tell
So lamentable that I should shut my ears to it.
I do not forget my own upbringing in exile,
Like yours, and how many times I battled, alone,
With dangers to my life, in foreign lands.
I could not turn from any fellow-man,
Coming as you come, or deny him help.
I know that I am man; in the day to come
My portion will be as yours, no more, no less.
OEDIPUS: Theseus, your noble kindness in these short words
Permits as brief an answer. Who I am,
Whence born, from what land come, you know and have said.
It remains to tell my errand, and all is told.
THESEUS: Then tell me that.
OEDIPUS: I come to offer you
A gift – my tortured body – a sorry sight;
But there is value in it more than beauty.
THESEUS: What value?
OEDIPUS: Later you shall know, not now.
THESEUS: When will this gift be known for what it is?
OEDIPUS: When I am dead, and you have buried me.
THESEUS: You only ask for that last office, then,
Forgetting what comes between, or caring not?
OEDIPUS: Yes; having that, I shall have all my wish.
THESEUS: It is little to ask.
OEDIPUS: It is; but not so little
The issue – not so little – make no mistake.
THESEUS: You mean, between your sons and me?
OEDIPUS: Ay, that, sir.
They mean to take me back to Thebes.
THESEUS: Why then,
If you wished it so, that would be better than exile.
OEDIPUS:
No, no! When I wished it, they refused to hear me.
THESEUS:
In a plight such as yours, it is foolish to cherish resentment.
OEDIPUS: Hear me, and then reprove. Have patience, sir.
THESEUS:
Speak on. I should not judge without full knowledge.
OEDIPUS: Theseus, I have been wronged again and again.
THESEUS: The old, old story of your lineage?
OEDIPUS (impatient): No!
All that is common property.
THESEUS: What, then,
To mark you as the world’s most ill-used man?
OEDIPUS:
This: driven from home by my own flesh and blood –
My sons – my crime against my father bars me
From hope of restoration.
THESEUS: If that is so,
Why should they fetch you, if you still remain
Outlawed, condemned for ever to live apart?
OEDIPUS: The oracle will compel them.
THESEUS: By what sanction?
OEDIPUS: They are threatened with punishment on this very land.
THESEUS:
Here? Why? What trouble should ever come between
My land and theirs?
OEDIPUS: Time, Time, my friend,
Makes havoc everywhere; he is invincible.
Only the gods have ageless and deathless life;
All else must perish. The sap of earth dries up,
Flesh dies, and while faith withers falsehood blooms.
The spirit is not constant from friend to friend,
From city to city; it changes, soon or late;
Joy turns to sorrow, and turns again to joy.
Between you and Thebes the sky is fair; but Time
Has many and many a night and day to run
On his uncounted course; in one of these
Some little rift will come, and the sword’s point
Will make short work of this day’s harmony.
Then my cold body in its secret sleep
Shall drink hot blood. If this is not to be,
Zeus is not Zeus, and Phoebus is not true!
But enough: there are things I must not tell of now.
Ask me no more, but make your own pledge good.
Be sure you cannot fail of your reward
In giving Oedipus this dwelling-place,
Unless heaven means to play him false again.
THESEUS turns to confer with the CHORUS.
CHORUS: This, or to this effect, sir, has been his promise
From the first, and it seems he means to make it good.
THESEUS:
The kindly intention of such a man must be respected.
Not only on the ground of mutual hospitality
To a friend and ally, but also for the goddesses’ sake
Whose suppliant he is, and the boon he will bring to us.
Such claims compel me to accept his overture
And house him within our city. While he stays here,
I appoint you his protector, or if he choose
To come with me – (turning to OEDIPUS) Oedipus, the choice is yours.
It shall be as you wish.
OEDIPUS: May God reward you, sir.
THESEUS: Then will you come with me?
OEDIPUS: If it were lawful –
But this is the place –
THESEUS: This? What have you yet to do?
Not that I shall forbid you anything.
OEDIPUS: Here I must vanquish those who cast me out.
THESEUS: Is that the boon your presence was to bring?
OEDIPUS: It follows, if you perform your promise truly.
THESEUS: You can be sure of that. I’ll not betray you.
OEDIPUS: I know you are good. I need not swear you to it.
THESEUS:
I have given my word; no oath could bind me more.
OEDIPUS (in new anxiety, perceiving that THESEUS means to leave him): What will you do, then?
THESEUS: Why, are you afraid?
OEDIPUS: They will come for me –
THESEUS: These friends will see to that.
OEDIPUS: But – you will leave me?
THESEUS: I know what I must do.
OEDIPUS: Forgive me; I fear –
THESEUS: I see no cause for fear.
OEDIPUS: They have threatened – you do not know –
THESEUS: I know one thing.
No one shall take you away without my leave.
Threats? What of them? Many an idle threat
Breaks out in the heat of anger, and comes to nothing
When reason takes control. These people of yours
May have been mighty bold in giving out
How they will fetch you away. I think they’ll find
A long and stormy passage waiting for them.
You need not fear: apart from my protection
You are in Phoebus’ hands. Besides, my name,
Even in my absence, will keep you safe from harm.
Exit.
CHORUS:
Here in our white Colonus, stranger guest,
Of all earth’s lovely lands the loveliest,
Fine horses breed, and leaf-enfolded vales
Are thronged with sweetly-singing nightingales,
Screened in deep arbours, ivy, dark as wine,
And tangled bowers of berry-clustered vine;
To whose dark avenues and windless courts
The Grape-god with his nursing-nymphs resorts.
Here, chosen crown of goddesses, the fair
Narcissus blooms, bathing his lustrous hair
In dews of morning; golden crocus gleams
Along Cephisus’ slow meandering streams,
Whose fountains never fail; day after day
His limpid waters wander on their way
To fill with ripeness of abundant birth
The swelling bosom of our buxom earth.
Here Aphrodite rides with golden reins;
The Muses here consort; and on these plains,
A glory greater than the Dorian land
Of Pelops owns, or Asiatic strand,
Our sweet grey foster-nurse, the olive, grows
Self-born, immortal, unafraid of foes;
Young knaves and old her ageless strength defies
Whom Zeus and Pallas guard with sleepless eyes.
And last, our Mother-city’s chiefest pride
I yet must praise, all other gifts beside,
Poseidon’s gift, which makes her still to be
Mistress of horses, mistress of the sea.
Here in these lanes wild horses first obeyed
The bit and bridle; here the smooth oar-blade
In slim and handy shape first learned to leap
And chase the fifty sea-maids through the deep.
ANTIGONE now sees a newcomer approaching.
ANTIGONE: Now is the time for this land of happy fame
To match those praises in act!
OEDIPUS: What now, my child?
ANTIGONE: Creon is coming, heavily escorted.
OEDIPUS:
Good elders, let this be my hour of final deliverance!
CHORUS:
It shall be so. We are old, but our country’s strength
Is young and lusty still.
Enter CREON, with attendants; an older man than OEDIPUS, but more active, though with less innate authority. The CHORUS brace themselves for the challenge, and CREON is checked for a moment, but then speaks appeasingly.
CREON: Gentlemen of Colonus,
Your looks betray a sudden alarm at my coming.
You need not be afraid, nor treat me with violent abuse.
Mine is no violent purpose; I am too old,
And am well aware that the city to which I have come
Is a power in Hellas second to none. I am sent,
Old as I am, to use my influence
To persuade this man to return to Theban land.
I am not any single man’s emissary,
But bear this charge from our whole community;
Rightly, since I, as this man’s next of kin,
Have borne the brunt of our anguish on his behalf.
Now Oedipus, poor unhappy man, come home;
Do not refuse me; all your people ask you,
And with good cause; so, more than all, do I.
Unless I am the veriest villain that ever breathed,
I must be sorry for the sorrows of your old age,
Seeing you cast adrift like this, a vagabond,
A beggar, with a sole companion at your side.
Poor child! Could I ever have believed she would come to this,
So young, condemned to endless tutelage
Of that sad ruined head, wasting her maidenhood
In cheerless poverty; and so ill-protected
Against any rude assault.
We are all to blame;
We are all accused – you, I, and all our family;
And here in the eye of day it cannot be hid.
O Oedipus! Now by the gods of our fathers, hear me!
Cover our shame; come home to your fathers’ city,
Your fathers’ house, taking a kindly leave
Of this kind land – she has served you well; but home,
Where you were bred, first claims your piety.
OEDIPUS: Devil! There is no specious argument
You cannot twist to your cunning purposes!
Do you hope to entrap me a second time in the snare
That will drag me to utmost misery? There was a time
When the havoc my hand had wrought so sickened me
That banishment was my dearest wish. I asked it;
You would not grant it. But when my passion was spent,
And home held comfort for me, then you were pleased
To hound me out to exile. Little you cared
For kinship and family then! Once more you come,
And, seeing me kindly welcomed in this land
By all her people, try to drag me back,
Covering your hate with a cloak of seeming affection.
Unwanted favours earn no gratitude!
If one refused you everything you asked,
Denied your fondest wish, and then, forsooth,
When you had all your heart’s desire, turned round
And gave you charity – would you thank him for it?
Such are your specious gifts – no good at all.
Let all these men take note of your foul purpose!
You come for me – not to conduct me home,
But to instal me on your frontier,
To save your city from falling out with Athens.
You shall not have your wish! This you shall have:
My everlasting curse upon your country!
As for my sons, their heritage in my land
Shall be no larger than the ground they die on.
Do you not think I read the state of Thebes
With clearer eyes than yours? Surely, and why?
I have more certain guidance, the true word
Of Phoebus and his almighty father, Zeus.
You come here with your artful politic tongue
Primed for sharp practice; but your eloquence, sir,
You’ll find, will win you far more harm than good.
But there – you don’t believe me. Go your way,
And I’ll go mine; hard as it is, I choose it,
And I could be content.
CREON:
Well? Do you think your verdict in this argument
Does me more harm than the harm you do yourself?
OEDIPUS: I am satisfied, so long as you gain no ground
With me or with my friends.
CREON: I am sorry for you.
Your years have not yet taught you sense, I see;
A disgrace to your generation still!
OEDIPUS: Wag on,
Smart tongue! I never knew an honest man
Subtle in argument.
CREON: True, the ready talker
May talk much nonsense.
OEDIPUS: Meaning yourself as a pattern
Of pertinent brevity?
CREON: Not to your way of thinking.
OEDIPUS:
Leave us! These are my friends and I speak for them.
Call off your spies and jailers, and let me be.
Here is my home and here I am to stay.
CREON:
I have done with you! And I call these men to witness –
I wished you well; you answer me with cursing.
But when I get you –
OEDIPUS: That will never be.
I have my allies.
CREON: Well, there are other ways.
OEDIPUS:
A threat? What does that mean? What have you done?
CREON: Your daughters: one we have already caught
And taken away; the other will follow shortly.
OEDIPUS: No, no!
CREON: Yes; you’ll have more to weep for presently.
OEDIPUS: You have taken my daughter?
CREON: And mean to have the other.
OEDIPUS: Friends, help! You won’t betray me! Drive him out!
Drive this foul devil from your soil!
CHORUS: Away,
Away, sir! You have done wrong enough.
CREON (to his men):
Arrest her. Force her if she will not come (they seize her).
ANTIGONE: O help! O help me, gods and men!
CHORUS: Stop, sir!
CREON: The man is yours; but she is mine.
OEDIPUS: O sirs!
CHORUS: You have no right –
CREON: I have.
CHORUS: What right?
CREON: She’s mine (he lays hands on her).
OEDIPUS: O Athens!
CHORUS: Stop, sir! Let her go!
Or you and I must fight.
CREON: Come if you dare.
CHORUS: We do
If you persist.
CREON: It’s war between our cities if you touch me.
OEDIPUS: As I foretold you.
CHORUS: Let the woman go.
CREON:
I take no orders; you have no power against me.
CHORUS: Let go, I say!
CREON: I say, away with you,
And look to your own business!
CHORUS: Help! People! Help!
Our home is in danger! Help!
Our country attacked!
Help and defend us!
ANTIGONE: Don’t let them take me away!
OEDIPUS: My child, where are you?
ANTIGONE: They’re taking me away!
OEDIPUS: Give me your hand.
ANTIGONE: I can’t!
CREON: Off with her!
OEDIPUS: Oh, I cannot bear it! Oh!
The guards carry ANTIGONE away.
CREON: So much for those two props of your infirmity –
Henceforth you walk without them. As for your wish
To flout your friends and fatherland, whose orders
I am here obeying, though I am their king,
You win: but in time you cannot fail to learn
That this same angry temper which besets you,
This spite against your friends, has been your ruin
Always, as it is now.
He turns to go, but the CHORUS are now intercepting his retreat, though still not daring to assault him bodily.
CHORUS: Stand fast!
CREON: Hands off!
CHORUS: Not while you hold those women captive.
CREON: So?
Then I must take another hostage home.
He advances upon OEDIPUS, now once more in the sanctuary of the grove.
CHORUS: What will you do?
CREON: Here is my prisoner.
CHORUS: You could not!
CREON:
Could – and will. Who will prevent me? Your king?
OEDIPUS: You dare not touch me! Blasphemous beast!
CREON: Be silent!
OEDIPUS: No! By your leave, divinities,
My curse must yet be spoken. Heartless fiend!
My eyes were dark long since, and you have torn
My last poor light, my helpless darling, from me.
Then may the Sun, the eye of God, reward you,
And all your issue, with like impotence
And darken all your days until you die!
CREON: You see, Colonians?
OEDIPUS: They see us both, and judge,
Knowing that I, who am so ill-used in act,
Have no defence but cursing.
CREON: I’ll hear no more.
Old and alone, I’ll take you.
OEDIPUS: O help!
CHORUS: Stop, sir! You are too bold.
You cannot do this thing.
CREON: I will.
CHORUS: Then there is law
No more in Athens.
CREON: Law arms the weaker, when the cause is just.
OEDIPUS: Hear his wild boast!
CHORUS: He shall not make it good,
God knows.
CREON: God surely knows what you do not.
CHORUS: Sacrilege!
CREON: Sacrilege – if you think so,
Then you must bear it.
CHORUS: Help! Masters and people!
Quick to the rescue! Help!
We are robbed and plundered,
Look to the road there!
Enter THESEUS with his attendants.
THESEUS: What’s this alarm? What’s happening? I heard your shouts of terror
At the altar of sacrifice, where I was performing my solemn service
To the God of the Sea, this country’s patron, and broke off
To return, with more speed than comfort; tell me all that has happened.
OEDIPUS:
That voice! My friend – this man is doing me wrong.
THESEUS: What man? And how?
OEDIPUS: Creon – do you not see him? –
Has torn my children from me – my only two.
THESEUS: Truly?
OEDIPUS: As truly as I tell it you.
THESEUS (to his men): One of you, quick, to the altars! Tell everyone to leave the sacrifice and post on horse and foot to where the hill-road forks. If they don’t intercept the women and their captors there, I’m beaten, and this foreigner has the laugh on me. Away! (one goes)
Yet if I dealt with him as anger prompts me,
And as he well deserves, he’d not escape
Hard usage. In any case, we’ll bring him to book
By the law he has brought with him.
(To CREON)
Here you stay
Until you cause these women to be brought
Into our sight. You have insulted me,
Disgraced your breed and country. Ours is a land
That lives by justice, knows no rule but law;
And here you blunder in and lay rough hands
On any prize you fancy, snapping your fingers
At our established order. It seems you think
We are a city of slaves, or city of emptiness,
And I a thing beneath your notice! Well,
It was not Thebes that taught you this behaviour;
Her sons are mostly gentlemen. She’d blush
For your assault on me – assault on the gods,
Arresting their defenceless suppliants.
You would not find me coming to your land,
On any pretext, however plausible,
And seizing this or that, without the leave
Of anyone who held authority there.
I’d know my place as a foreigner better than that.
You’re bringing shame upon an innocent city,
Your own; it’s evident your lengthening days
Have given you age and robbed you of discretion.
As I have said, I say again: the women
Must be restored without delay, or else
We shall constrain you to remain our guest.
And what I say, I mean.
CHORUS: Now, foreigner,
You see your error. Coming whence you come,
You should be honest, but your acts disprove it.
CREON:
You are wrong, King Theseus. I did not undervalue
The manhood of Athens, nor the wit of her counsellors,
When I acted thus. But neither did I expect
Your people to show such affection for one of my blood
As to harbour him in defiance of me. I felt certain
They would never receive a polluted parricide,
A party to an incestuous union – mother and son.
I knew the infallible wisdom of the Hill of Ares
Does not allow asylum to such vagabonds.
Therefore I felt entitled to claim my prize.
Even so, I might have spared him, had he not chosen
To hurl foul curses at me and all my race;
For which I thought it fit to take reprisal.
I may be old, but anger does not cool
Except with death – that ends all bitterness.
Do what you will, then. I am alone and powerless,
However just my cause. But, whatever you do,
I’m not so old but I’ll find some answer to it!
OEDIPUS: Still unrepentant! Is it my grey head
Or yours that is more insulted by such talk –
A stream of vile abuse – of murder and incest
And all the events that have thrust themselves upon me?
The gods so willed it – doubtless an ancient grudge
Against our house. My life was innocent,
Search as you will, of any guilty secret
For which this error could have been the punishment,
This sin that damned myself and all my blood.
Or tell me: if my father was foredoomed
By the voice of heaven to die by his own son’s hand,
How can you justly cast it against me,
Who was still unborn when that decree was spoken?
Unborn? Nay, unbegotten, unconceived.
And if, being born, as I was, for this calamity,
I chanced to meet my father and to kill him,
Not knowing who he was or what I did –
How can you hold the unwitting act against me?
Likewise my mother – O shame, that you should force me
To speak as I must about your sister’s marriage –
But you have broken all bounds of piety,
And I cannot be silent. She was my mother –
My mother, and knew not – neither of us knew
The thing we did – her shame! – she bore my children.
I know, I know it is you that take delight
In slandering her and me. To speak of it
Is as much against my will as was the doing.
Yet this I must say again! I am not condemned,
And shall not be, either for my marrying
Or for my father’s murder, which your spite
Persists in casting in my teeth.
Answer me this one thing: if here and now
Someone came up and threatened to take your life,
Your innocent life, would you then pause to ask
If he were your father – or deal with him out of hand?
I’m sure, as you love life, you’d pay the assailant
In his own coin, not look for legal warrant.
Such, by the gods’ contrivance, was my case.
My father himself, if he could live again,
Would not deny it. But you, who know no law,
No scruple in speaking of things unspeakable,
Shout your vile taunts at me in these men’s presence.
At the name of Theseus you are pleased to cringe
And eulogize the ordered state of Athens.
Do you reflect, this land you praise so highly
Pays high respect – above all other lands –
To the holy gods? Yet it was here you tried
To steal an aged suppliant from their sanctuary,
And have already carried off my daughters.
For which affront I call upon these goddesses
With most importunate prayers and supplication
To send me help and defence, that you may learn
What manner of men uphold this city’s honour.
CHORUS (to THESEUS):
Our guest is innocent, sir, though cursed by fortune.
We cannot withhold our aid.
THESEUS: Enough has been said.
While we stand here, the rogues are on the move.
CREON: What can I do, then, powerless as I am?
THESEUS: Lead on, while I escort you. If the women
Are still in reach, you shall conduct me to them.
If the quarry has gone away, we save our pains;
There are others already on the trail; they’ll see to it
That none of yours gets home to thank his gods.
Lead on! The biter’s bit, the hunter hunted.
What’s wrongly got is soonest lost. I warn you,
If you had helpers, as I know you had –
You would not have ventured on this daring outrage
Without some trusty backers – you have lost them;
I’ll take good care of that. We’ll not have Athens
At anyone’s mercy. I think you understand me,
Unless my warnings mean no more to you
Than those you heard when you were at this business.
CREON: I need not quarrel with you here; at home
I shall know what to do.
THESEUS: Threaten as you will,
But march! You, Oedipus, stay here in peace.
I promise you I’ll bring your children back,
Or die beside them.
Exit, with CREON.
OEDIPUS: Good Theseus, for your faithful care of me
Good luck be with you.
CHORUS: Who would not wish to be
There when the enemy
Turns to give battle with singing of sword and spear?
That were a sight to see.
Do they draw near
Now to the Pythian shrine,
Now to the hallowed sand
Where the bright torches shine,
Where at the breast of Earth’s Mother her votaries
Seek holy mysteries
Locked in gold silence
Under the seal of the singers
Of sweet melody?
Great Theseus is there
In the thick of the fray;
With a confident cry
He will come to the pair
Of lost maidens and fetch them away
Still safe in our land.
Or are they galloping
Out to the westering
Brown of White Oea and over the pasture-lands,
Chariot-wheels thundering?
Into our hands
Ares delivers it!
Great is our God of War!
Harness and shining bit
Flashing, the sons of Colonus will ride
Full-tilt at the side
Of the knighthood of Athens,
The pride of the people who follow
Theseus the king,
In honour of thee,
Athena, whose name
Is great among horsemen,
And thee whom they claim,
Earthshaker, the Lord of the Sea,
Whom the Earth-mother bore.
(A pause)
Are they fighting now,
Or do they stay?
Hope beguiles me, we shall see
Soon restored the unhappy victims
Of their kinsman’s cruelty.
God is with us: something tells me
We have won the day.
O for the wings of a swift-soaring dove,
Wind-borne to ride above
The clouds and see the fray!
Zeus, who seest all,
Great God on high!
Prosper in their enterprise
Our land’s defenders with the strength
Thy all-conquering hand supplies.
And may thy daughter, the august
Athena, now be nigh.
Phoebus, and she who hunts the dappled deer,
His sister Queen, now hear
And help; our people cry.
CHORUS (one of them, who has been standing apart, watching for further developments): Now, wanderer, trust me for a true prophet; seeing is believing and here come the women, in safe hands.
OEDIPUS: Where, where? Is it true?
Enter ANTIGONE, ISMENE, THESEUS, and attendants.
ANTIGONE: Father! O that some god could make you see
This brave good man who has brought us back to you.
OEDIPUS: Child, is it you?
ANTIGONE: Yes, it was these strong hands
Of Theseus that saved us, with his trusty friends.
OEDIPUS: Come to me, child. Let me embrace the body
I never thought to touch again.
ANTIGONE: You shall.
It is what I long for too.
OEDIPUS: Where are you, then?
ANTIGONE: We are both together with you now.
OEDIPUS: My darlings!
ANTIGONE: The love in a father’s heart!
OEDIPUS: So lost without you…
ANTIGONE: All we have shared together…
OEDIPUS: Mine again…
Now I could die happy with you beside me.
Stay close, one to each arm, and cling again
To your loving father. I was lost and lonely.
But that must be no more…
Tell me now, shortly,
What happened to you. Young lips need not be eloquent.
ANTIGONE: Let our deliverer tell you; it was his work;
The story shall be his, not mine.
OEDIPUS (turning to THESEUS): My friend,
Forgive this long fond greeting to these children,
Restored to me when I had thought them lost.
I know it is only to you I owe this happiness.
They owe their life to you. May God reward you,
And your dear country; nowhere else but here
Have I found justice, godliness, and truth.
I know how much I have to thank you for.
All that I have is of your giving, yours.
Give me your hand, my lord. And may I kiss
Your cheek?
(he is about to touch THESEUS, but suddenly withdraws).
No, no: I am a man of misery,
Corrupt with every foulness that exists!
I cannot let you touch me. No, you shall not!
No one but those on whom it lies already
Can bear this heavy load with me. Stay then
(keeping THESEUS at a distance)
And take my thanks, so. And be kind to me
Henceforth, as you are now.
THESEUS: There is nothing strange
In your long and joyful welcome to your children.
That your first thought should be for them, not me,
Needs no apology. Not words, but deeds
Are the goal of my ambition; as you may see;
I have performed my promise, have I not?
And here I am with your daughters safe and sound.
How it was done – no need to speak of that –
You’ll hear it all from them.
But listen, sir:
On my way back, another piece of news
Came to my ears, on which you can advise me:
Not a long story, but it’s curious,
And man must be ever on his guard.
OEDIPUS: What is that, sir?
We have heard nothing.
THESEUS: At Poseidon’s altar,
The very place where I was worshipping
When the summons called me here, a man now sits,
A suppliant. How he came there no one knows,
But it seems he is of your kin, though not from Thebes.
OEDIPUS: Where does he come from? And what is his supplication?
THESEUS: I only know what they have told me of him;
He asks a word with you, no more than that.
OEDIPUS: A suppliant – and only for a word?
THESEUS: That was the message – a word or two with you,
And his safe passport home the way he came.
OEDIPUS: A suppliant at the altar? Who can he be?
THESEUS: Have you a kinsman, who might thus approach you?
From Argos, say, or –
OEDIPUS (in horror): O my beloved friend!
Say nothing more!
THESEUS: What is it?
OEDIPUS: Do not ask!
THESEUS: Not ask? Why, tell me –
OEDIPUS: Now I know the man.
THESEUS: Who, then? And have I any quarrel with him?
OEDIPUS: It is my son, sir! My worst enemy!
The man whose voice I would most hate to hear.
THESEUS:
Could you not hear him, though you do nothing for him
Against your will? Could you not bear to hear him?
OEDIPUS: I am his father, but I tell you, sir,
His very voice would be intolerable.
Do not compel me to this necessity.
THESEUS: Are you not bound by his state of supplication?
Respect for the god must be considered.
ANTIGONE: Father,
Please listen to me, although I am young to advise you.
Let the King do as he desires, for his own and the god’s sake;
Ismene and I would like our brother to come.
You needn’t be afraid that anything he can say
That is not for your good will shake you from your purpose.
It cannot hurt you to hear him: just the reverse:
Evil intentions betray themselves in speech.
You are his father; and it cannot be right,
Even if he has done you the cruellest, wickedest wrong,
For you to do him wrong again.
Let him come.
Many a father has wayward sons to vex him,
But soothing friends can charm them out of anger.
Forget the present, and remember the old hard things
That happened to you on account of your father and mother.
Will they not remind you what evil consequences
Come out of angry impulse? I think they must,
With the lesson in your sightless eyes.
To please us, father,
Say yes. You cannot refuse this fair request.
You have been well treated; you cannot refuse to be generous
In making this return.
OEDIPUS: My child, it is hard.
But I agree. So let it be as you wish.
(To THESEUS)
But O my friend, if the man is to come to us,
I charge you, guard my life!
THESEUS: As I have told you, sir, you need not fear.
I make no boasts, but while my life is safe,
You need not fear for yours.
Exit.
CHORUS:
Show me the man who asks an over-abundant share
Of life, in love with more, and ill content
With less, and I will show you one in love
With foolishness.
In the accumulation of many years
Pain is in plenty, and joy not anywhere
When life is over-spent.
And at the last there is the same release
When Death appears,
Unheralded by music, dance, or song,
To give us peace.
Say what you will, the greatest boon is not to be;
But, life begun, soonest to end is best,
And to that bourne from which our way began
Swiftly return.
The simple playtime of our youth behind,
What woe is absent, what fierce agony?
Strife, and the bloody test
Of battle, envy and hatred – and at length
Unloved, unkind,
Unfriended age, worst ill of all, and last,
Consumes our strength.
So stand, not I alone,
But all, and he,
Our much-tried friend,
A rock in a wild north sea
At winter’s height,
Fronting the rude assault
Of all the billows of adversity
That break upon his head from every side
Unceasing – from the setting sun,
From dayspring, from the blaze of noon,
And from the pole of night.
ANTIGONE: There is someone coming now; I think it is he –
our visitor, father. He is alone, and weeping as he comes.
OEDIPUS: Who is it?
ANTIGONE: Just as we thought – Polynices. He is here.
Enter POLYNICES.
POLYNICES: O my sisters, my sisters! What can I say?
Which is the more to be pitied, I or my father,
For the unhappy plight I see him in: an exile
In this strange land, with only you beside him;
His dress – the old foul garments he has worn
To threadbare squalor on his ageing body;
Blind – and his white hair tousled by the breeze;
And just as beggarly the scanty victuals
He scrapes to satisfy his piteous hunger.
I know it now – too late! Wretch that I am!
I know, I admit I have treated you heartlessly;
I accuse myself, and need no other witness.
But Mercy sits beside the throne of God
And shares in all his dealings; so, my father,
May you yet come to know her. For what is done
There will be remedy; no worse can come.
No answer for me?
Speak, father; do not turn away. No answer?
No pity? You send me away without a word?
Not even to tell me why you are angry with me?
O sisters, cannot you persuade him to break
This hard unfeeling silence? I am a suppliant
For the god’s good favour; he cannot neglect my petition
And let me go away unsatisfied.
He pauses, but OEDIPUS makes no response.
ANTIGONE:
Say more, if you can, of the favour you came to ask.
As you talk, some tenderness may touch his heart;
Or even a word of anger or pity may draw
An answer out of silence.
POLYNICES: Well, I will.
But I claim the protection of the god; it was at his altar
The King of this country found me and gave me leave
To speak and be answered and go my way unharmed.
I ask you, friends, to uphold my right in this,
And you, my sisters, and my father…
(OEDIPUS is still adamant, but POLYNICES continues with growing confidence).
My father…
Listen to the reason why I am here.
I am an exile, driven from the fatherland.
Because I claimed my birthright, the right to sit
In the seat of your former sovereignty, my brother,
My younger brother, Eteocles, expelled me.
The case was never argued; there was no fight;
But somehow he got the city on his side.
I suppose it was due to the curse upon your name;
And the oracles I have consulted bear this out.
It was then I went to Argos in Dorian country,
And married Adrastus’ daughter, and made sworn allies
Of all the best-known fighters of Peloponnese,
With whom I planned my sevenfold league of offence
On Thebes, determined to drive the usurper out
Or die with honour.
Now then, why am I here?
I am here to bring you, father, our earnest petition –
Mine and my friends’ – seven of them, each with his army,
At this very moment encircling the Theban plain;
To wit: Amphiaráus, a mighty hand
With a spear, and our foremost master of augury;
Tydeus of Aetolia, Oineus’ son; Eteoclus,
Of Argive birth; Hippomedon, representing
His father Talaos; Capaneus – he’s for reducing
Thebes to a pile of cinders; Parthenopaeus,
A keen Arcadian, named after Atalanta
(Long time a virgin until she became the mother
Of this right trusty lad); and lastly, I
Who lead this doughty band to Thebes – your son
In name at least – or must I call myself
A son of hideous destiny?
Now, father,
It is the earnest prayer of all this company,
For the sake of your daughters, for your own life’s sake,
That you resign this anger you cherish against me
Now, as I go forth on my quest for vengeance
Against the brother who has supplanted me.
If oracles are true, the victory
Will lie with those that win your patronage.
Hear me, my father; if you love our land
Of springing waters, if you love the gods
That gave us birth, hear my petition, father.
Both you and I are homeless outcasts, both
Condemned alike to beg for hospitality,
While the usurper, lording it at home,
Laughs at us both. My blood revolts at it!
But, with your blessing on my enterprise,
I’ll send him packing; and when we’re rid of him,
I shall restore you to your rightful place,
And take my own. With your consent I win
Certain success; without it, certain death.
CHORUS: Oedipus, for Theseus’ sake, he must not go
Till you have spoken what is in your mind.
OEDIPUS:
Gentlemen; were it not Theseus that sent him here,
Desiring me to speak to him, he should die
Before he heard a single word from me.
But he shall have his due; and what he hears
Shall be small comfort to him.
(To POLYNICES) Listen, scoundrel!
You held the sceptre and the royal throne
Before your brother seized them, and it was you
That drove your father out of doors. You made him
A homeless vagabond; this is your gift,
This pauperhood, at which you affect to weep,
Finding yourself in the same predicament.
It is no time for tears. This is my life
To bear till life is ended, and my death
Is on your head. You yoked me to this burden,
You banished me, you taught me how to beg;
You would have seen me dead, but I had daughters
Whose never-failing care has nursed my life.
They are my sons; you are some other man’s.
The eye of Fate is on you, and her wrath
Will visit you yet more nearly, if it is true
Your armies are in train for Thebes. That city
Will never fall to you; but you shall fall,
You and your brother, with blood on both your heads.
I cursed you once before; I curse you now –
These are my weapons – that you may learn the lesson
Of piety to parents, and repent
Your insults to my blindness; you – such sons!
How different from these daughters!… ‘Supplication’?
‘Claim to the throne’? My curse be on them too,
If old eternal Justice reigns with God.
Away! You have no father here, vile brute!
And take this malediction in your ears;
May you never defeat your motherland;
May you never return alive to Argos;
May you, in dying, kill your banisher,
And, killing, die by him who shares your blood.
This is my prayer.
In the name of the Father of Darkness, and the bottomless pit
Where he shall house you; in the name of the Goddesses
Whose ground we stand on; in the name of the Lord of Destruction
Who flung you into mortal strife. Now go:
And tell it out in all the streets of Thebes,
And tell your trusty friends, what benefactions
King Oedipus has bestowed upon his sons.
CHORUS: Go, Polynices. Your ways have all been evil.
Go, without more ado.
POLYNICES: All this for nothing!
And worse than nothing. All those trusting friends,
And the high hopes in which we marched from Argos,
Brought to this end! An end I dare not name
To any of them. I cannot turn them back.
I must go on in silence to what awaits me.
But O my sisters, if all these pitiless curses
Which you have heard, fulfil themselves in act,
And if you ever come again to Thebes,
By all the gods, remember me with kindness.
Give me a grave, and reverent offices.
So to the commendation which you earn
For faithful service here, more may be added
By what you do for me.
ANTIGONE: O Polynices,
Do this one thing for me.
POLYNICES: What, dear Antigone?
ANTIGONE: Order your army back to Argos; now,
Before it is too late, to save yourself
And our city from destruction.
POLYNICES: That is impossible.
If I cry off this time, how can I ever
Lead them to battle again?
ANTIGONE: Again? But why?
Why need you fight again? What use is it
To make your home a ruin?
POLYNICES: Am I to endure
The insult of exile, and the mockery of a younger brother?
ANTIGONE: You are only hastening to its consummation
That double death your father prophesies.
POLYNICES: The deaths he hopes for! No, I’ll not go back.
ANTIGONE: The more’s the pity. How many of your men
Will follow when they hear what is foretold?
POLYNICES: They will not hear; I wouldn’t tell such tales.
The careful leader does not spread alarm
By publishing bad news unnecessarily.
ANTIGONE: Then you’re determined to do this?
POLYNICES: I am.
So let me go. I see my way before me,
Dark though it is and shadowed with grim shapes
Of vengeance answering to my father’s prayers.
May yours be brighter, by God’s mercy, sisters,
As you discharge that service at my death,
The last I shall require.
Now let me go.
This is good-bye for ever.
ANTIGONE: O my brother!
POLYNICES: Don’t weep for me.
ANTIGONE: What can I do but weep,
Seeing you go like this to certain death?
POLYNICES: If certain, I must meet it.
ANTIGONE: Is there no other –?
POLYNICES: No other way that’s right.
ANTIGONE: I cannot bear it!
To lose you!
POLYNICES: That must be as Fate decides.
Well… May the gods be good to you. God knows
You have deserved it.
Exit.
CHORUS: More and more misfortune follows
From the blind man’s indignation.
Or the hand of Fate directs it.
Who can say God’s purpose falters?
Time is awake, the Wheel is turning,
Lifting up and overthrowing.
A distant peal of thunder.
Thunder in the roof of heaven!
OEDIPUS (in great anxiety): Dear children, the brave Theseus should be here. Is there a messenger who could go to fetch him?
ANTIGONE: For what purpose, father?
OEDIPUS: God is sending his voice across the sky to summon me to death. Fetch Theseus quickly, quickly.
Thunder nearer.
CHORUS: Hear the heavens clamour, louder
Peals the volley of God’s thunder.
Lightning.
And again the sky-fire, sending
Terror to the scalp flesh-creeping.
To what ending? Never idle
Is such loud assault or aimless.
Thunder very loud.
O great heaven! O God, have mercy!
OEDIPUS: Children, your father’s life is drawing to its appointed end. There is no turning back.
ANTIGONE:
How do you know it, father? Have you a sign?
OEDIPUS: I know it well. The king, the king – let someone fetch him quickly.
Thunder.
CHORUS: Again the shattering din above us!
Merciful God, have mercy on us.
Spare us, if thou visitest
Our motherland with angry darkness.
Spare us; make not unavailing
All our pains for one forsaken.
Thunder.
Zeus, Lord, hear us cry!
OEDIPUS: Is he coming? How long? Will he come before I die? Before my mind is darkened?
ANTIGONE: What reassurance does it look for?
OEDIPUS: I promised him a blessing for what he has done for me. I want to make that promise good.
CHORUS: Royal prince! O quickly come, lad,
Even from Poseidon’s altar…
Is he worshipping the Sea-god
In the distant sanctuary?…
Come, to take the stranger’s blessing
On us all and on our city.
Thunder.
Quickly, royal master, come!
Enter THESEUS.
THESEUS: What urgent summons this time from you all?…
I understand. Our guest has need of me.
Is it the threatening storm, the sky ablaze
With God’s artillery? We may well be anxious
With heaven in this uproar.
OEDIPUS: O my king!
You are come as I desired, and that you are come
Is blessing sent from heaven on your head.
THESEUS: What is it, son of Laius?
OEDIPUS: My hour is near.
I must not die unfaithful to my pact
With you and with your city.
THESEUS: What is the sign
By which you know this crisis to be close?
OEDIPUS: The gods, themselves their own true couriers,
Have given me word by signals pre-appointed.
THESEUS: What signals do you mean, sir?
OEDIPUS: Peals of thunder,
Discharging meteors, many times repeated,
The armoury of the invincible.
THESEUS: I believe it.
Having cause to know the truth of your predictions.
What must I do?
Solemnly OEDIPUS takes THESEUS aside.
OEDIPUS: Son of Aegeus, what I have now to unfold
Is a thing that your city shall keep in its secret heart
Alive to the end of time. Soon I shall take you,
None guiding me, to the place where I must die;
And no one else must know it. Tell no man
The region where it lies concealed from sight,
That it may be for you henceforth for ever
A source of strength greater than many thousands
Of yeomen shields or allied spears. What follows,
A holy mystery that no tongue may name,
You shall then see and know, coming alone
To the place appointed. There is no one else
Of all this people to whom I can reveal it;
Not my own children, though I love them well.
You are to keep it for ever, you alone;
And when your life is drawing to its end,
Disclose it to one alone, your chosen heir,
And he to his, and so for ever and ever.
This will insure your city’s safe defence
Against the power of the Sons of the Dragon’s Seed.
Between city and city, be they never so justly ruled,
Occasions are never wanting for thoughtless insult.
The gods take notice, in their own good time,
But without fail, when godliness is flouted
And men go mad. Let it not happen to you,
O son of Aegeus. But there, I do not think
You need my teaching.
Now it is time to go.
The hand of God directs me.
He turns, and leads the way with slow but sure steps, as one inspired with inward vision.
Follow, my children.
It is my turn now to be your pathfinder,
As you have been to me. Come. Do not touch me.
Leave me to find the way to the sacred grave
Where this land’s soil is to enclose my bones.
This way… This way… Hermes is leading me,
And the Queen of the Nether World. This way… This way.
He turns to feel the sunlight for the last time upon his face and hands.
Dark day! How long since thou wast light to me!
Farewell! I feel my last of thee. Death’s night
Now ends my life for ever.
(Turning once more to THESEUS) Blessing attend
Your land and all that serve you, and yourself,
My best-loved friend; and in your blessedness,
That it may be yours for ever, remember me.
He goes, the others following; in prolonged silence the CHORUS watch the procession out of sight; then they pray.
CHORUS:
Goddess unseen, and Lord of the Sons of Darkness,
Aidoneus! Aidoneus!
If such petition may be heard:
Grant to our friend a passing with no pain,
No grief, to the dark Stygian home
Of those who dwell in the far invisible land.
Out of the night of his long hopeless torment
Surely a just God’s hand
Will raise him up again.
Have mercy, Infernal Powers; famed Hound of Hell,
Immovable invincible
Grim sentinel in caverns howling
Round the wide gates of hospitable Death:
O Son of Earth and Hades, hear us.
Let not the beast lie in the traveller’s way,
Who fares to the deep country of the dead.
Bear him with gentle breath,
O endless sleep, away.
After a long pause, a MESSENGER returns from the direction taken by OEDIPUS.
MESSENGER: People of Colonus! I am here to say that the life of Oedipus is ended. And there is much to tell of all that
I saw happen there.
CHORUS: He is dead, poor soul?
MESSENGER: He has seen the last of his mortal days.
CHORUS: By some act of God, was it? And with no pain?
MESSENGER: It was wonderful.
You all know how he left this place; you saw how he refused the guidance of his friends, but led us all boldly forward. He went on as far as the brink of the Chasm, where the Brazen Staircase plunges into the roots of the earth – near the rock-basin which commemorates the famous covenant of Theseus and Peirithous. There he stood, among those hallowed objects – the Basin, the Rock of Thoricus, the Hollow Pear-tree, the Stone Tomb. He sat down; took off his toil-stained garments; and calling for his daughters, asked them to fetch water from the stream, so that he might wash and pour water-offerings. They went, towards the Hill of the Harvest-goddess, which lay in front of us; and soon returned bringing him what he asked for. Then they washed and dressed him after the customary manner.
When he was satisfied with all that had been done – and nothing was denied him – there came a peal of thunder, the voice of the God of Earth; and the women trembled and wept, falling at their father’s knees; and for a long time they lamented loudly and beat their breasts. Pained at their outcry, he took them in his arms and said: ‘My children, to-day your father leaves you. This is the end of all that was I, and the end of your long task of caring for me. I know how hard it was. Yet it was made lighter by one word – love. I loved you as no one else had ever done. Now you must live on without me.’
So they wept, clinging to each other. And when they ended, there was silence; until suddenly a Voice called him, a terrifying voice at which all trembled and hair stood on end. A god was calling to him. ‘Oedipus! Oedipus!’ it cried, again and again. ‘It is time: you stay too long.’ He heard the summons, and knew that it was from God. Then he called for King Theseus, and when he was near him said: ‘Dear friend, give your hand and promise to these children. Children, your hand in his. Promise never of your own will to forsake them, but do such things as you think fitting for their good, with all goodwill.’ And Theseus, like the noble man he is, made no lament but took his oath to do as his friend desired.
When this was done, Oedipus again groped blindly for his children, and said: ‘Now, my children, you must be brave and good, and go from this place. You must not ask to see forbidden mysteries; there are things you must not hear. Go quickly. Only Theseus is permitted to remain and see the rest.’ We all heard this, and so, weeping bitterly, we and the women came away.
When we had gone a little distance, we turned and looked back. Oedipus was nowhere to be seen; but the King was standing alone holding his hand before his eyes as if he had seen some terrible sight that no one could bear to look upon; and soon we saw him salute heaven and the earth with one short prayer.
In what manner Oedipus passed from this earth, no one can tell. Only Theseus knows. We know he was not destroyed by a thunderbolt from heaven nor tide-wave rising from the sea, for no such thing occurred. Maybe a guiding spirit from the gods took him, or the earth’s foundations gently opened and received him with no pain. Certain it is that he was taken without a pang, without grief or agony – a passing more wonderful than that of any other man.
What I have said will seem, perhaps, like some wild dream of fancy, beyond belief. If so, then you must disbelieve it. I can say no more.
CHORUS: Where are the women, and their escort?
MESSENGER: Not far behind. They are coming now, for I can hear their weeping.
Enter ANTIGONE and ISMENE.
ANTIGONE: Now all is done. For us nothing remains
But to weep for ever and ever the curse of our blood.
While he was here, we helped him to bear it;
But now, what we have seen and suffered
At the end, is beyond all understanding.
CHORUS: What happened?
ANTIGONE: We only guess.
CHORUS: He died?
ANTIGONE: As you would have wished for him;
Not in the peril of war,
Nor in the sea;
But by a swift invisible hand
He was lifted away to the far dark shore.
And dark as death shall our night be.
How shall we live? What far-off land
Or ocean must be the bourne
Of our long misery?
ISMENE: I cannot tell; and O that I could lie
In death beside him, and not live
The life that will be mine.
CHORUS: Most faithful daughters, is it not best to bear
What God’s hand brings?
This grief must not burn in you overlong;
Your part has been beyond all blame.
ANTIGONE: I never knew how great the loss could be
Even of sadness; there was a sort of joy
In sorrow, when he was at my side.
Father, my love, in your shroud of earth
We two shall love you for ever and ever.
CHORUS: He is happy?
ANTIGONE: He has his wish.
CHORUS: His wish?
ANTIGONE: He came to a land he loved
In its cool curtained bed
Of earth to lie.
And here are tears for him; but how
Shall all the tears these eyes have shed
Put this so heavy sorrow by?
As he had wished, in strange earth now
He sleeps, and I must not know
Where they have laid his head.
ISMENE: And what will become of us, now he is gone?
Sad sisters, what will our fate be
Without a father near?
CHORUS: Be sure his end was happy, and your grief
Must not be endless.
No man has ever lived out of the reach
Of misadventure’s grasping hand.
ANTIGONE: Sister, we must go back.
ISMENE: Go back?
ANTIGONE: I must, I must.
ISMENE: But why?
ANTIGONE: To see the plot of earth –
ISMENE: His?
ANTIGONE: Father’s – I cannot leave him –
ISMENE: It is forbidden. Surely you understand?
ANTIGONE: Why do you cross me?
ISMENE: Don’t you see?
ANTIGONE: See?
ISMENE: He had to die alone, and has no tomb.
ANTIGONE: Take me to the place and let me die there too.
ISMENE: And what shall I do all alone and helpless?
Where shall I live without a friend?
CHORUS: You must not fear.
ISMENE: And where shall I be safe?
CHORUS: You are safe already.
ISMENE: How?
CHORUS: You are in safe hands.
ISMENE: I know.
CHORUS: Then what is in your mind?
ISMENE: How shall we ever see home again?
CHORUS: Do not attempt it.
ISMENE: Trouble on every side.
CHORUS: The worst is past.
ISMENE: And more is added to that worst.
CHORUS: Deep waters of adversity, in truth.
ISMENE: O where, O where, O God?
Where is there any hope?
Enter THESEUS
THESEUS: Now, daughters, dry your tears. Kind death
Has gently dealt with him; and we
Share in his blessing. We must not weep;
Our grief would provoke the gods to anger.
ANTIGONE: Yet hear a petition, son of Aegeus.
THESEUS: What is it you ask?
ANTIGONE: Only to see
Our father’s grave.
THESEUS: That cannot be.
ANTIGONE: Why? You are lord of Athens. Why?
THESEUS: Daughters, it was your father’s charge
That no man should approach that place,
Nor any living voice be heard
About the sacred sepulchre
In which he sleeps; this pact obeyed
Preserves this land inviolate.
I swore it, and God’s sentinel
Saw, who sees all, and took my oath.
ANTIGONE: It was his wish. It is enough.
Then pray you see us safe returned
To age-old Thebes. There it may be
We can yet stem the tide of blood
That dooms our brothers.
THESEUS: It shall be done.
I cannot rest till I have served
Your good in everything, and his,
The lately lost, who lies below.
CHORUS: This is the end of tears:
No more lament.
Through all the years
Immutable stands this event.
EXEUNT
So Oedipus passed from mortal sight, and while his soul was received into the blessed abodes, his earthly remains, in the secret keeping of King Theseus, hallowed for all time the Attic soil in which they rested.
Meanwhile the strife between his sons went on with unabated fury. Seven champions, enlisted under the banner of Polynices, stormed with his Argive allies the seven gates of Thebes. But Thebes withstood them, and in the last encounter the two brothers took each other’s life. Creon, now once more undisputed master of the city, and resolved to make an example of the iniquity of the invader, ordered that whilst the body of Eteocles, defender of the city, received all honourable rites of burial, that of Polynices should be left in ignominy, unwept and unburied, upon the plain where it lay. Penalty of death was promulgated against any who should defy this order; and the voices of the city, whether in consent or in fearful submission, were silent.
[Here the play of ANTIGONE begins]