Oedipus King of Thebes
The King's bread, I have made me separate
For ever. Mine own lips have bid the land
Cast from it one so evil, one whose hand
To sin was dedicate, whom God hath shown
Birth-branded ... and my blood the dead King's own!
All this myself have proved. And can I then
Look with straight eyes into the eyes of men?
I trow not. Nay, if any stop there were
To dam this fount that welleth in mine ear
For hearing, I had never blenched nor stayed
Till this vile shell were all one dungeon made,
Dark, without sound. 'Tis thus the mind would fain
Find peace, self-prisoned from a world of pain.
O wild Kithairon, why was it thy will
To save me? Why not take me quick and kill,
Kill, before ever I could make men know
The thing I am, the thing from which I grow?
Thou dead King, Polybus, thou city wall
Of Corinth, thou old castle I did call
My father's, what a life did ye begin,
What splendour rotted by the worm within,
When ye bred me! O Crossing of the Roads,
O secret glen and dusk of crowding woods,
O narrow footpath creeping to the brink
Where meet the Three! I gave you blood to drink.
Do ye remember? 'Twas my life-blood, hot
From mine own father's heart. Have ye forgot
What deed I did among you, and what new
And direr deed I fled from you to do?
O flesh, horror of flesh!...
[Sidenote: vv. 1409-1431]
But what is shame
To do should not be spoken. In God's name,
Take me somewhere far off and cover me
From sight, or slay, or cast me to the sea
Where never eye may see me any more.
What? Do ye fear to touch a man so sore
Stricken? Nay, tremble not. My misery
Is mine, and shall be borne by none but me.
LEADER.
Lo, yonder comes for answer to thy prayer
Creon, to do and to decree. The care
Of all our land is his, now thou art weak.
OEDIPUS.
Alas, what word to Creon can I speak,
How make him trust me more? He hath seen of late
So vile a heart in me, so full of hate.
_Enter_ CREON.
CREON.
Not to make laughter, Oedipus, nor cast
Against thee any evil of the past
I seek thee, but ... Ah God! ye ministers,
Have ye no hearts? Or if for man there stirs
No pity in you, fear at least to call
Stain on our Lord the Sun, who feedeth all;
Nor show in nakedness a horror such
As this, which never mother Earth may touch,
Nor God's clean rain nor sunlight. Quick within!
Guide him.--The ills that in a house have been
They of the house alone should know or hear.
[Sidenote: vv. 1432-1447]
OEDIPUS.
In God's name, since thou hast undone the fear
Within me, coming thus, all nobleness,
To one so vile, grant me one only grace.
For thy sake more I crave it than mine own.
CREON.
Let me first hear what grace thou wouldst be shown.
OEDIPUS.
Cast me from Thebes ... now, quick ... where none may see
My visage more, nor mingle words with me.
CREON.
That had I done, for sure, save that I still
Tremble, and fain would ask Apollo's will.
OEDIPUS.
His will was clear enough, to stamp the unclean
Thing out, the bloody hand, the heart of sin.
CREON.
'Twas thus he seemed to speak; but in this sore
Strait we must needs learn surer than before.
OEDIPUS.
Thou needs must trouble God for one so low?
CREON.
Surely; thyself will trust his answer now.
OEDIPUS.
I charge thee more ... and, if thou fail, my sin
Shall cleave to thee.... For her who lies within,
[Sidenote: vv. 1448-1472]
Make as thou wilt her burial. 'Tis thy task
To tend thine own. But me: let no man ask
This ancient city of my sires to give
Harbour in life to me. Set me to live
On the wild hills and leave my name to those
Deeps of Kithairon which my father chose,
And mother, for my vast and living tomb.
As they, my murderers, willed it, let my doom
Find me. For this my very heart doth know,
No sickness now, nor any mortal blow,
Shall slay this body. Never had my breath
Been thus kept burning in the midst of death,
Save for some frightful end. So, let my way
Go where it listeth.
But my children--Nay,
Creon, my sons will ask thee for no care.
Men are they, and can find them everywhere
What life needs. But my two poor desolate
Maidens.... There was no table ever set
Apart for them, but whatso royal fare
I tasted, they were with me and had share
In all.... Creon, I pray, forget them not.
And if it may be, go, bid them be brought,
[CREON _goes and presently returns with the
two princesses._ OEDIPUS _thinks he is
there all the time._
That I may touch their faces, and so weep....
Go, Prince. Go, noble heart!...
If I might touch them, I should seem to keep
And not to have lost them, now mine eyes are gone....
What say I?
In God's name, can it be I hear mine own
[Sidenote: vv. 1473-1505]
Beloved ones sobbing? Creon of his grace
Hath brought my two, my dearest, to this place.
Is it true?
CREON.
'Tis true. I brought them, for in them I know
Thy joy is, the same now as long ago.
OEDIPUS.
God bless thee, and in this hard journey give
Some better guide than mine to help thee live.
Children! Where are ye? Hither; come to these
Arms of your ... brother, whose wild offices
Have brought much darkness on the once bright eyes
Of him who grew your garden; who, nowise
Seeing nor understanding, digged a ground
The world shall shudder at. Children, my wound
Is yours too, and I cannot meet your gaze
Now, as I think me what remaining days
Of bitter living the world hath for you.
What dance of damsels shall ye gather to,
What feast of Thebes, but quick ye shall turn home,
All tears, or ere the feast or dancers come?
And, children, when ye reach the years of love,
Who shall dare wed you, whose heart rise above
The peril, to take on him all the shame
That cleaves to my name and my children's name?
God knows, it is enough!...
My flowers, ye needs must die, waste things, bereft
And fruitless.
Creon, thou alone art left
Their father now, since both of us are gone
Who cared for them. Oh, leave them not alone
[Sidenote: vv. 1505-1518]
To wander masterless, these thine own kin,
And beggared. Neither think of them such sin
As ye all know in me, but let their fate
Touch thee. So young they are, so desolate--
Of all save thee. True man, give me thine hand,
And promise.
[OEDIPUS _and_ CREON _clasp hands._
If your age could understand,
Children, full many counsels I could give.
But now I leave this one word: Pray to live
As life may suffer you, and find a road
To travel easier than your father trod.
CREON.
Enough thy heart hath poured its tears; now back into
thine house repair.
OEDIPUS.
I dread the house, yet go I must.
CREON.
Fair season maketh all things fair.
OEDIPUS.
One oath then give me, and I go.
CREON.
Name it, and I will answer thee.
OEDIPUS.
To cast me from this land.
[Sidenote: vv. 1519-1523]
CREON.
A gift not mine but God's thou askest me.
OEDIPUS.
I am a thing of God abhorred.
CREON.
The more, then, will he grant thy prayer.
OEDIPUS.
Thou givest thine oath?
CREON.
I see no light; and, seeing not, I may not swear.
OEDIPUS.
Then take me hence. I care not.
CREON.
Go in peace, and give these children o'er.
OEDIPUS.
Ah no! Take not away my daughters!
[_They are taken from him._
CREON.
Seek not to be master more. Did not thy
masteries of old forsake thee when the end was near?
[Sidenote: vv. 1524-1530]
CHORUS.
Ye citizens of Thebes, behold; 'tis Oedipus that passeth here,
Who read the riddle-word of Death, and mightiest stood of mortal
men,
And Fortune loved him, and the folk that saw him turned and looked
again.
Lo, he is fallen, and around great storms and the outreaching sea!
Therefore, O Man, beware, and look toward the end of things that be,
The last of sights, the last of days; and no man's life account as gain
Ere the full tale be finished and the darkness find him without pain.
[OEDIPUS _is led into the house and the doors
close on him._
NOTES TO
OEDIPUS, KING OF THEBES
P. 4, l. 21: Dry Ash of Ismenus.]--Divination by burnt offerings was
practised at an altar of Apollo by the river Ismenus in Thebes.
Observe how many traits Oedipus retains of the primitive king, who was
at once chief and medicine-man and god. The Priest thinks it necessary
to state explicitly that he does not regard Oedipus as a god, but he is
clearly not quite like other men. And it seems as if Oedipus himself
realised in this scene that the oracle from Delphi might well demand the
king's life. Cf. p. 6, "what deed of mine, what bitter task, May save my
city"; p. 7, "any fear for mine own death." This thought, present
probably in more minds than his, greatly increases the tension of the
scene. Cf. _Anthropology and the Classics_, pp. 74-79.]
P. 7, l. 87, Message of joy.]--Creon says this for the sake of the omen.
The first words uttered at such a crisis would be ominous and tend to
fulfil themselves.]
Pp. 13-16, ll. 216-275. The long cursing speech of Oedipus.]--Observe
that this speech is broken into several divisions, Oedipus at each point
expecting an answer and receiving none. Thus it is not mere declamation;
it involves action and reaction between a speaker and a crowd.--Every
reader will notice how full it is of "tragic irony." Almost every
paragraph carries with it some sinister meaning of which the speaker is
unconscious. Cf. such phrases as "if he tread my hearth," "had but his
issue been more fortunate," "as I would for mine own father," and of
course the whole situation.
P. 25, l. 437, Who were they?]--This momentary doubt of Oedipus, who of
course regarded himself as the son of Polybus, King of Corinth, is
explained later (p. 46, l. 780).
Pp. 29 ff. The Creon scene.]--The only part of the play which could
possibly be said to flag. Creon's defence, p. 34, "from probabilities,"
as the rhetoricians would have called it, seems less interesting to us
than it probably did to the poet's contemporaries. It is remarkably like
Hippolytus's defence (pp. 52 f. of my translation), and probably one was
suggested by the other. We cannot be sure which was the earlier play.
The scene serves at least to quicken the pace of the drama, to bring out
the impetuous and somewhat tyrannical nature of Oedipus, and to prepare
the magnificent entrance of Jocasta.
P. 36, l. 630, Thebes is my country.]--It must be remembered that to the
Chorus Creon is a real Theban, Oedipus a stranger from Corinth.
P. 41, Conversation of Oedipus and Jocasta.]--The technique of this
wonderful scene, an intimate self-revealing conversation between husband
and wife about the past, forming the pivot of the play, will remind a
modern reader of Ibsen.
P. 42, l. 718.]--Observe that Jocasta does not tell the whole truth. It
was she herself who gave the child to be killed (p. 70, l. 1173).
P. 42, l. 730, Crossing of Three Ways.]--Cross roads always had dark
associations. This particular spot was well known to tradition and is
still pointed out. "A bare isolated hillock of grey stone stands at the
point where our road from Daulia meets the road to Delphi and a third
road that stretches to the south.... The road runs up a frowning pass
between Parnassus on the right hand and the spurs of the Helicon range