Part 5

[A MESSENGER rushes out from the Palace.

MESSENGER.

O ye above this land in honour old Exalted, what a tale shall ye be told, What sights shall see, and tears of horror shed, If still your hearts be true to them that led Your sires! There runs no river, well I ween, Not Phasis nor great Ister, shall wash clean This house of all within that hideth—nay, Nor all that creepeth forth to front the day, Of purposed horror. And in misery That woundeth most which men have willed to be.

LEADER.

No lack there was in what we knew before Of food for heaviness. What bring'st thou more?

MESSENGER.

One thing I bring thee first.... 'Tis quickly said. Jocasta, our anointed queen, is dead.

[Sidenote: vv. 1236-1260]

LEADER.

Unhappy woman! How came death to her?

MESSENGER.

By her own hand.... Oh, of what passed in there Ye have been spared the worst. Ye cannot see. Howbeit, with that which still is left in me Of mind and memory, ye shall hear her fate. Like one entranced with passion, through the gate She passed, the white hands flashing o'er her head, Like blades that tear, and fled, unswerving fled, Toward her old bridal room, and disappeared And the doors crashed behind her. But we heard Her voice within, crying to him of old, Her Laïus, long dead; and things untold Of the old kiss unforgotten, that should bring The lover's death and leave the loved a thing Of horror, yea, a field beneath the plough For sire and son: then wailing bitter-low Across that bed of births unreconciled, Husband from husband born and child from child. And, after that, I know not how her death Found her. For sudden, with a roar of wrath, Burst Oedipus upon us. Then, I ween, We marked no more what passion held the Queen, But him, as in the fury of his stride, "A sword! A sword! And show me here," he cried, "That wife, no wife, that field of bloodstained earth Where husband, father, sin on sin, had birth, Polluted generations!" While he thus Raged on, some god—for sure 'twas none of us— Showed where she was; and with a shout away, As though some hand had pointed to the prey,

[Sidenote: vv. 1261-1286]

He dashed him on the chamber door. The straight Door-bar of oak, it bent beneath his weight, Shook from its sockets free, and in he burst To the dark chamber. There we saw her first Hanged, swinging from a noose, like a dead bird. He fell back when he saw her. Then we heard A miserable groan, and straight he found And loosed the strangling knot, and on the ground Laid her.—Ah, then the sight of horror came! The pin of gold, broad-beaten like a flame, He tore from off her breast, and, left and right, Down on the shuddering orbits of his sight Dashed it: "Out! Out! Ye never more shall see Me nor the anguish nor the sins of me. Ye looked on lives whose like earth never bore, Ye knew not those my spirit thirsted for: Therefore be dark for ever!" Like a song His voice rose, and again, again, the strong And stabbing hand fell, and the massacred And bleeding eyeballs streamed upon his beard, Wild rain, and gouts of hail amid the rain. Behold affliction, yea, afflictions twain From man and woman broken, now made one In downfall. All the riches yester sun Saw in this house were rich in verity. What call ye now our riches? Agony, Delusion, Death, Shame, all that eye or ear Hath ever dreamed of misery, is here.

LEADER.

And now how fares he? Doth the storm abate?

[Sidenote: vv. 1287-1308]

MESSENGER.

He shouts for one to open wide the gate And lead him forth, and to all Thebes display His father's murderer, his mother's.... Nay, Such words I will not speak. And his intent Is set, to cast himself in banishment Out to the wild, not walk 'mid human breed Bearing the curse he bears. Yet sore his need Of strength and of some guiding hand. For sure He hath more burden now than man may endure. But see, the gates fall back, and that appears Which he who loathes shall pity—yea, with tears.

[OEDIPUS is led in, blinded and bleeding. The Old Men bow down and hide their faces; some of them weep.

CHORUS.

Oh, terrible! Oh, sight of all This life hath crossed, most terrible! Thou man more wronged than tongue can tell, What madness took thee? Do there crawl Live Things of Evil from the deep To leap on man? Oh, what a leap Was His that flung thee to thy fall!

LEADER.

O fallen, fallen in ghastly case, I dare not raise mine eyes to thee; Fain would I look and ask and see, But shudder sickened from thy face.

OEDIPUS.

Oh, pain; pain and woe! Whither? Whither?

[Sidenote: vv. 1308-1328]

They lead me and I go; And my voice drifts on the air Far away. Where, Thing of Evil, where Endeth thy leaping hither?

LEADER.

In fearful ends, which none may hear nor say.

OEDIPUS.

[Strophe.

Cloud of the dark, mine own For ever, horrible, Stealing, stealing, silent, unconquerable, Cloud that no wind, no summer can dispel! Again, again I groan, As through my heart together crawl the strong Stabs of this pain and memories of old wrong.

LEADER.

Yea, twofold hosts of torment hast thou there, The stain to think on and the pain to bear.

OEDIPUS.

[Antistrophe.

O Friend, thou mine own Still faithful, minister Steadfast abiding alone of them that were, Dost bear with me and give the blind man care? Ah me! Not all unknown Nor hid thou art. Deep in this dark a call Comes and I know thy voice in spite of all.

LEADER.

O fearful sufferer, and could'st thou kill Thy living orbs? What God made blind thy will?

[Sidenote: vv. 1329-1351]

OEDIPUS.

[Strophe.

'Tis Apollo; all is Apollo, O ye that love me, 'tis he long time hath planned These things upon me evilly, evilly, Dark things and full of blood. I knew not; I did but follow His way; but mine the hand And mine the anguish. What were mine eyes to me When naught to be seen was good?

LEADER.

'Tis even so; and Truth doth speak in thee.

OEDIPUS.

To see, to endure, to hear words kindly spoken, Should I have joy in such? Out, if ye love your breath, Cast me swift unto solitude, unbroken By word or touch. Am I not charged with death, Most charged and filled to the brim With curses? And what man saith God hath so hated him?

LEADER.

Thy bitter will, thy hard calamity, Would I had never known nor looked on thee!

OEDIPUS.

[Antistrophe.

My curse, my curse upon him, That man whom pity held in the wilderness, Who saved the feet alive from the blood-fetter And loosed the barb thereof!

[Sidenote: vv. 1351-1377]

That babe—what grace was done him, Had he died shelterless, He had not laid on himself this grief to bear, And all who gave him love.

LEADER.

I, too, O Friend, I had been happier.

OEDIPUS.

Found not the way to his father's blood, nor shaken The world's scorn on his mother, The child and the groom withal; But now, of murderers born, of God forsaken, Mine own sons' brother; All this, and if aught can fall Upon man more perilous And elder in sin, lo, all Is the portion of Oedipus.

LEADER.

How shall I hold this counsel of thy mind True? Thou wert better dead than living blind.

OEDIPUS.

That this deed is not well and wisely wrought Thou shalt not show me; therefore school me not. Think, with what eyes hereafter in the place Of shadows could I see my father's face, Or my poor mother's? Both of whom this hand Hath wronged too deep for man to understand. Or children—born as mine were born, to see Their shapes should bring me joy? Great God! To me

[Sidenote: vv. 1378-1403]

There is no joy in city nor in tower Nor temple, from all whom, in this mine hour, I that was chief in Thebes alone, and ate 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 Ismênus.]—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 on the left. Away to the south a wild and desolate valley opens, running up among the waste places of Helicon, a scene of inexpressible grandeur and desolation" (Jebb, abridged).

P. 44, l. 754, Who could bring, &c.]—Oedipus of course thought he had killed them all. See his next speech.

P. 51.]—Observe the tragic effect of this prayer. Apollo means to destroy Jocasta, not to save her; her prayer is broken across by the entry of the Corinthian Stranger, which seems like a deliverance but is really a link in the chain of destruction. There is a very similar effect in Sophocles' Electra, 636-659, Clytaemnestra's prayer; compare also the prayers to Cypris in Euripides' Hippolytus.