Plays of Sophocles: Oedipus the King; Oedipus at Colonus; Antigone

Not women in true service to their sire; But ye are bastards, and no sons of mine. Therefore just Heaven hath an eye on thee; Howbeit not yet with aspect so austere As thou shalt soon experience, if indeed These banded hosts are moving against Thebes. That city thou canst never storm, but first Shall fall, thou and thy brother, blood-imbrued. Such curse I lately launched against you twain, Such curse I now invoke to fight for me, That ye may learn to honor those who bear thee Nor flout a sightless father who begat Degenerate sons—these maidens did not so. Therefore my curse is stronger than thy “throne,” Thy “suppliance,” if by right of laws eterne Primeval Justice sits enthroned with Zeus. Begone, abhorred, disowned, no son of mine, Thou vilest of the vile! and take with thee This curse I leave thee as my last bequest:— Never to win by arms thy native land, No, nor return to Argos in the Vale, But by a kinsman’s hand to die and slay Him who expelled thee. So I pray and call On the ancestral gloom of Tartarus To snatch thee hence, on these dread goddesses I call, and Ares who incensed you both To mortal enmity. Go now proclaim What thou hast heard to the Cadmeians all, Thy staunch confederates—this the heritage that Oedipus divideth to his sons. CHORUS. Thy errand, Polyneices, liked me not From the beginning; now go back with speed. POLYNEICES. Woe worth my journey and my baffled hopes! Woe worth my comrades! What a desperate end To that glad march from Argos! Woe is me! I dare not whisper it to my allies Or turn them back, but mute must meet my doom. My sisters, ye his daughters, ye have heard The prayers of our stern father, if his curse Should come to pass and ye some day return To Thebes, O then disown me not, I pray, But grant me burial and due funeral rites. So shall the praise your filial care now wins Be doubled for the service wrought for me. ANTIGONE. One boon, O Polyneices, let me crave. POLYNEICES. What would’st thou, sweet Antigone? Say on. ANTIGONE. Turn back thy host to Argos with all speed, And ruin not thyself and Thebes as well. POLYNEICES. That cannot be. How could I lead again An army that had seen their leader quail? ANTIGONE. But, brother, why shouldst thou be wroth again? What profit from thy country’s ruin comes? POLYNEICES. ’Tis shame to live in exile, and shall I The elder bear a younger brother’s flouts? ANTIGONE. Wilt thou then bring to pass his prophecies Who threatens mutual slaughter to you both? POLYNEICES. Aye, so he wishes:—but I must not yield. ANTIGONE. O woe is me! but say, will any dare, Hearing his prophecy, to follow thee? POLYNEICES. I shall not tell it; a good general Reports successes and conceals mishaps. ANTIGONE. Misguided youth, thy purpose then stands fast! POLYNEICES. ’Tis so, and stay me not. The road I choose, Dogged by my sire and his avenging spirit, Leads me to ruin; but for you may Zeus Make your path bright if ye fulfill my hest When dead; in life ye cannot serve me more. Now let me go, farewell, a long farewell! Ye ne’er shall see my living face again. ANTIGONE. Ah me! POLYNEICES. Bewail me not. ANTIGONE. Who would not mourn Thee, brother, hurrying to an open pit! POLYNEICES. If I must die, I must. ANTIGONE. Nay, hear me plead. POLYNEICES. It may not be; forbear. ANTIGONE. Then woe is me, If I must lose thee. POLYNEICES. Nay, that rests with fate, Whether I live or die; but for you both I pray to heaven ye may escape all ill; For ye are blameless in the eyes of all. [Exit POLYNEICES] CHORUS. (Str. 1) Ills on ills! no pause or rest! Come they from our sightless guest? Or haply now we see fulfilled What fate long time hath willed? For ne’er have I proved vain Aught that the heavenly powers ordain. Time with never sleeping eye Watches what is writ on high, Overthrowing now the great, Raising now from low estate. Hark! How the thunder rumbles! Zeus defend us! OEDIPUS. Children, my children! will no messenger Go summon hither Theseus my best friend? ANTIGONE. And wherefore, father, dost thou summon him? OEDIPUS. This winged thunder of the god must bear me Anon to Hades. Send and tarry not. CHORUS. (Ant. 1) Hark! with louder, nearer roar The bolt of Zeus descends once more. My spirit quails and cowers: my hair Bristles for fear. Again that flare! What doth the lightning-flash portend? Ever it points to issues grave. Dread powers of air! Save, Zeus, O save! OEDIPUS. Daughters, upon me the predestined end Has come; no turning from it any more. ANTIGONE. How knowest thou? What sign convinces thee? OEDIPUS. I know full well. Let some one with all speed Go summon hither the Athenian prince. CHORUS. (Str. 2) Ha! once more the deafening sound Peals yet louder all around If thou darkenest our land, Lightly, lightly lay thy hand; Grace, not anger, let me win, If upon a man of sin I have looked with pitying eye, Zeus, our king, to thee I cry! OEDIPUS. Is the prince coming? Will he when he comes Find me yet living and my senses clear! ANTIGONE. What solemn charge would’st thou impress on him? OEDIPUS. For all his benefits I would perform The promise made when I received them first. CHORUS. (Ant. 2) Hither haste, my son, arise, Altar leave and sacrifice, If haply to Poseidon now In the far glade thou pay’st thy vow. For our guest to thee would bring And thy folk and offering, Thy due guerdon. Haste, O King! [Enter THESEUS] THESEUS. Wherefore again this general din? at once My people call me and the stranger calls. Is it a thunderbolt of Zeus or sleet Of arrowy hail? a storm so fierce as this Would warrant all surmises of mischance. OEDIPUS. Thou com’st much wished for, Prince, and sure some god Hath bid good luck attend thee on thy way. THESEUS. What, son of Laius, hath chanced of new? OEDIPUS. My life hath turned the scale. I would do all I promised thee and thine before I die. THESEUS. What sign assures thee that thine end is near? OEDIPUS. The gods themselves are heralds of my fate; Of their appointed warnings nothing fails. THESEUS. How sayest thou they signify their will? OEDIPUS. This thunder, peal on peal, this lightning hurled Flash upon flash, from the unconquered hand. THESEUS. I must believe thee, having found thee oft A prophet true; then speak what must be done. OEDIPUS. O son of Aegeus, for this state will I Unfold a treasure age cannot corrupt. Myself anon without a guiding hand Will take thee to the spot where I must end. This secret ne’er reveal to mortal man, Neither the spot nor whereabouts it lies, So shall it ever serve thee for defense Better than native shields and near allies. But those dread mysteries speech may not profane Thyself shalt gather coming there alone; Since not to any of thy subjects, nor To my own children, though I love them dearly, Can I reveal what thou must guard alone, And whisper to thy chosen heir alone, So to be handed down from heir to heir. Thus shalt thou hold this land inviolate From the dread Dragon’s brood. 7 The justest State By countless wanton neighbors may be wronged, For the gods, though they tarry, mark for doom The godless sinner in his mad career. Far from thee, son of Aegeus, be such fate! But to the spot—the god within me goads— Let us set forth no longer hesitate. Follow me, daughters, this way. Strange that I Whom you have led so long should lead you now. Oh, touch me not, but let me all alone Find out the sepulcher that destiny Appoints me in this land. Hither, this way, For this way Hermes leads, the spirit guide, And Persephassa, empress of the dead. O light, no light to me, but mine erewhile, Now the last time I feel thee palpable, For I am drawing near the final gloom Of Hades. Blessing on thee, dearest friend, On thee and on thy land and followers! Live prosperous and in your happy state Still for your welfare think on me, the dead. [Exit THESEUS followed by ANTIGONE and ISMENE] CHORUS. (Str.) If mortal prayers are heard in hell, Hear, Goddess dread, invisible! Monarch of the regions drear, Aidoneus, hear, O hear! By a gentle, tearless doom Speed this stranger to the gloom, Let him enter without pain The all-shrouding Stygian plain. Wrongfully in life oppressed, Be he now by Justice blessed. (Ant.) Queen infernal, and thou fell Watch-dog of the gates of hell, Who, as legends tell, dost glare, Gnarling in thy cavernous lair At all comers, let him go Scathless to the fields below. For thy master orders thus, The son of earth and Tartarus; In his den the monster keep, Giver of eternal sleep. [Enter MESSENGER] MESSENGER. Friends, countrymen, my tidings are in sum That Oedipus is gone, but the event Was not so brief, nor can the tale be brief. CHORUS. What, has he gone, the unhappy man? MESSENGER. Know well That he has passed away from life to death. CHORUS. How? By a god-sent, painless doom, poor soul? MESSENGER. Thy question hits the marvel of the tale. How he moved hence, you saw him and must know; Without a friend to lead the way, himself Guiding us all. So having reached the abrupt Earth-rooted Threshold with its brazen stairs, He paused at one of the converging paths, Hard by the rocky basin which records The pact of Theseus and Peirithous. Betwixt that rift and the Thorician rock, The hollow pear-tree and the marble tomb, Midway he sat and loosed his beggar’s weeds; Then calling to his daughters bade them fetch Of running water, both to wash withal And make libation; so they clomb the steep; And in brief space brought what their father bade, Then laved and dressed him with observance due. But when he had his will in everything, And no desire was left unsatisfied, It thundered from the netherworld; the maids Shivered, and crouching at their father’s knees Wept, beat their breast and uttered a long wail. He, as he heard their sudden bitter cry, Folded his arms about them both and said, “My children, ye will lose your sire today, For all of me has perished, and no more Have ye to bear your long, long ministry; A heavy load, I know, and yet one word Wipes out all score of tribulations—_love_. And love from me ye had—from no man more; But now must live without me all your days.” So clinging to each other sobbed and wept Father and daughters both, but when at last Their mourning had an end and no wail rose, A moment there was silence; suddenly A voice that summoned him; with sudden dread The hair of all stood up and all were ’mazed; For the call came, now loud, now low, and oft. “Oedipus, Oedipus, why tarry we? Too long, too long thy passing is delayed.” But when he heard the summons of the god, He prayed that Theseus might be brought, and when The Prince came nearer: “O my friend,” he cried, “Pledge ye my daughters, giving thy right hand— And, daughters, give him yours—and promise me Thou never wilt forsake them, but do all That time and friendship prompt in their behoof.” And he of his nobility repressed His tears and swore to be their constant friend. This promise given, Oedipus put forth Blind hands and laid them on his children, saying, “O children, prove your true nobility