Exodos (with the Second Kommos, 1297–1368)
Second Messenger.Ye who are ever most honoured in this land, what deeds shall ye hear, what deeds behold, what burden of sorrow shall be yours, if, true to your race, ye still care for the house of Labdacus! For I ween that not Ister nor Phasis could wash this house clean, so many are the ills that it shrouds, or will soon bring to light, — ills wrought not unwittingly, but of purpose. And those griefs smart most which are seen to be of our own choice.
Chorus.Indeed those which we knew before fall not short of claiming sore lamentation: besides them, what dost thou announce?
Second Messenger.This is the shortest tale to tell and to hear: our royal lady Iocasta is dead.
Chorus.Alas, hapless one! From what cause?
Second Messenger.By her own hand. The worst pain in what hath chanced is not for you, for yours it is not to behold. Nevertheless, so far as mine own memory serves, ye shall learn that unhappy woman’s fate. When, frantic, she had passed within the vestibule, she rushed straight towards her nuptial couch, clutching her hair with the fingers of both hands; once within the chamber, she dashed the doors together at her back; then called on the name of Laïus, long since a corpse, mindful of that son, begotten long ago, by whom the sire was slain, leaving the mother to breed accursed offspring with his own. And she bewailed the wedlock wherein, wretched, she had borne a twofold brood, husband by husband, children by her child. And how thereafter she perished, is more than I know. For with a shriek Oedipus burst in, and suffered us not to watch her woe unto the end; on him, as he rushed around, our eyes were set. To and fro he went, asking us to give him a sword, — asking where he should find the wife who was no wife, but a mother whose womb had borne alike himself and his children. And, in his frenzy, a power above man was his guide; for ’twas none of us mortals who were nigh. And with a dread shriek, as though some one beckoned him on, he sprang at the double doors, and from their sockets forced the bending bolts, and rushed into the room. There beheld we the woman hanging by the neck in a twisted noose of swinging cords. But he, when he saw her, with a dread, deep cry of misery, loosed the halter whereby she hung. And when the hapless woman was stretched upon the ground, then was the sequel dread to see. For he tore from her raiment the golden brooches wherewith she was decked, and lifted them, and smote full on his own eye-balls, uttering words like these: ‘ No more shall ye behold such horrors as I was suffering and working! long enough have ye looked on those whom ye ought never to have seen, failed in knowledge of those whom I yearned to know — henceforth ye shall be dark!’ To such dire refrain, not once alone but oft struck he his eyes with lifted hand; and at each blow the ensanguined eye-balls bedewed his beard, nor sent forth sluggish drops of gore, but all at once a dark shower of blood came down like hail. From the deeds of twain such ills have broken forth, not on one alone, but with mingled woe for man and wife. The old happiness of their ancestral fortune was aforetime happiness indeed; but to-day — lamentation, ruin, death, shame, all earthly ills that can be named — all, all are theirs.
Chorus.And hath the sufferer now any respite from pain?
Second Messenger.He cries for some one to unbar the gates and show to all the Cadmeans his father’s slayer, his mother’s — the unholy word must not pass my lips, — as purposing to cast himself out of the land, and abide no more, to make the house accursed under his own curse. Howbeit he lacks strength, and one to guide his steps; for the anguish is more than man may bear. And he will show this to thee also; for lo, the bars of the gates are withdrawn, and soon thou shalt behold a sight which even he who abhors it must pity. Enter OEDIPUS.
Chorus.O dread fate for men to see, O most dreadful of all that have met mine eyes! Unhappy one, what madness hath come on thee? Who is the unearthly foe that, with a bound of more than mortal range, hath made thine ill-starred life his prey? Alas, alas, thou hapless one! Nay, I cannot e’en look on thee, though there is much that I would fain ask, fain learn, much that draws my wistful gaze, — with such a shuddering dost thou fill me!
Oedipus.Woe is me! Alas, alas, wretched that I am! Whither, whither am I borne in my misery? How is my voice swept abroad on the wings of the air? Oh my Fate, how far hast thou sprung!
Chorus.To a dread place, dire in men’s ears, dire in their sight.
Oedipus.O thou horror of darkness that enfoldest me, visitant unspeakable, resistless, sped by a wind too fair! Ay me! and once again, ay me! How is my soul pierced by the stab of these goads, and withal by the memory of sorrows!
Chorus.Yea, amid woes so many a twofold pain may well be thine to mourn and to bear.
Oedipus.Ah, friend, thou still art steadfast in thy tendance of me, — thou still hast patience to care for the blind man! Ah me! Thy presence is not hid from me — no, dark though I am, yet know I thy voice full well.
Chorus.Man of dread deeds, how couldst thou in such wise quench thy vision? What more than human power urged thee?
Oedipus.Apollo, friends, Apollo was he that brought these my woes to pass, these my sore, sore woes: but the hand that struck the eyes was none save mine, wretched that I am! Why was I to see, when sight could show me nothing sweet?
Chorus.These things were even as thou sayest.
Oedipus.Say, friends, what can I more behold, what can I love, what greeting can touch mine ear with joy? Haste, lead me from the land, friends, lead me hence, the utterly lost, the thrice accursed, yea, the mortal most abhorred of heaven!
Chorus.Wretched alike for thy fortune and for thy sense thereof, would that I had never so much as known thee!
Oedipus.Perish the man, whoe’er he was, that freed me in the pastures from the cruel shackle on my feet, and saved me from death, and gave me back to life, — a thankless deed! Had I died then, to my friends and to mine own soul I had not been so sore a grief.
Chorus.I also would have had it thus.
Oedipus.So had I not come to shed my father’s blood, nor been called among men the spouse of her from whom I sprang: but now am I forsaken of the gods, son of a defiled mother, successor to his bed who gave me mine own wretched being: and if there be yet a woe surpassing woes, it hath become the portion of
Chorus.I know not how I can say that thou hast counselled well: for thou wert better dead than living and blind.
Oedipus.Show me not at large that these things are not best done thus: give me counsel no more. For, had I sight, I know not with what eyes I could e’en have looked on my father, when I came to the place of the dead, aye, or on my miserable mother, since against both I have sinned such sins as strangling could not punish. But deem ye that the sight of children, born as mine were born, was lovely for me to look upon? No, no, not lovely to mine eyes for ever! No, nor was this town with its towered walls, nor the sacred statues of the gods, since I, thrice wretched that I am, — I, noblest of the sons of Thebes, — have doomed myself to know these no more, by mine own command that all should thrust away the impious one, — even him whom gods have shown to be unholy — and of the race of Laïus! After bearing such a stain upon me, was I to look with steady eyes on this folk? No, verily: no, were there yet a way to choke the fount of hearing, I had not spared to make a fast prison of this wretched frame, that so I should have known nor sight nor sound; for ’tis sweet that our thought should dwell beyond the sphere of griefs. Alas, Cithaeron, why hadst thou a shelter for me? When I was given to thee, why didst thou not slay me straightway, that so I might never have revealed my source to men? Ah, Polybus, — ah, Corinth, and thou that wast called the ancient house of my fathers, how seeming-fair was I your nurseling, and what ills were festering beneath! For now I am found evil, and of evil birth. O ye three roads, and thou secret glen, — thou coppice, and narrow way where three paths met — ye who drank from my hands that father’s blood which was mine own, — remember ye, perchance, what deeds I wrought for you to see, — and then, when I came hither, what fresh deeds I went on to do? O marriage-rites, ye gave me birth, and when ye had brought me forth, again ye bore children to your child, ye created an incestuous kinship of fathers, brothers, sons, — brides, wives, mothers, — yea, all the foulest shame that is wrought among men! Nay, but ’tis unmeet to name what ’tis unmeet to do: — haste ye, for the gods’ love, hide me somewhere beyond the land, or slay me, or cast me into the sea, where ye shall never behold me more! Approach, — deign to lay your hands on a wretched man; — hearken, fear not, — my plague can rest on no mortal beside.
Chorus.Nay, here is Creon, in meet season for thy requests, crave they act or counsel; for he alone is left to guard the land in thy stead.
Oedipus.Ah me, how indeed shall I accost him? What claim to credence can be shown on my part? For in the past I have been found wholly false to him.
Creon.I have not come in mockery, Oedipus, nor to reproach thee with any bygone fault. — (To the attendants.) But ye, if ye respect the children of men no more, revere at least the all-nurturing flame of our lord the Sun, — spare to show thus nakedly a pollution such as this, — one which neither earth can welcome, nor the holy rain, nor the light. Nay, take him into the house as quickly as ye may; for it best accords with piety that kinsfolk alone should see and hear a kinsman’s woes.
Oedipus.For the gods’ love — since thou hast done a gentle violence to my presage, who hast come in a spirit so noble to me, a man most vile — grant me a boon: — for thy good I will speak, not for mine own.
Creon.And what wish art thou so fain to have of me?
Oedipus.Cast me out of this land with all speed, to a place where no mortal shall be found to greet me more.
Creon.This would I have done, be thou sure, but that I craved first to learn all my duty from the god.
Oedipus.Nay, his behest hath been set forth in full, — to let me perish, the parricide, the unholy one, that I am.
Creon.Such was the purport; yet, seeing to what a pass we have come, ’tis better to learn clearly what should be done.
Oedipus.Will ye, then, seek a response on behalf of such a wretch as I am?
Creon.Aye, for thou thyself wilt now surely put faith in the god.
Oedipus.Yea; and on thee lay I this charge, to thee will I make this entreaty: — give to her who is within such burial as thou thyself wouldest; for thou wilt meetly render the last rites to thine own. But for me — never let this city of my sire be condemned to have me dwelling therein, while I live: no, suffer me to abide on the hills, where yonder is Cithaeron, famed as mine, — which my mother and sire, while they lived, set for my appointed tomb, — that so I may die by their decree who sought to slay me. Howbeit of thus much am I sure, — that neither sickness nor aught else can destroy me; for never had I been snatched from death, but in reserve for some strange doom. Nay, let my fate go whither it will: but as touching my children, — I pray thee, Creon, take no care on thee for my sons; they are men, so that, be they where they may, they can never lack the means to live. But my two girls, poor hapless ones, — who never knew my table spread apart, or lacked their father’s presence, but ever in all things shared my daily bread, — I pray thee, care for them.; and — if thou canst — suffer me to touch them with my hands, and to indulge my grief. Grant it, prince, grant it, thou noble heart! Ah, could I but once touch them with my hands, I should think that they were with me, even as when I had sight... [CREON’s attendants lead in the children Antigone and Ismene. Ha? O ye gods, can it be my loved ones that I hear sobbing, — can Creon have taken pity on me and sent me my children — my darlings? Am I right?
Creon.Yea: ’tis of my contriving, for I knew thy joy in them of old, — the joy that now is thine.
Oedipus.Then blessed be thou, and, for guerdon of this errand, may heaven prove to thee a kinder guardian than it hath to me! My children, where are ye? Come hither, — hither to the hands of him whose mother was your own, the hands whose offices have wrought that your sire’s once bright eyes should be such orbs as these, — his, who seeing nought, knowing nought, became your father by her from whom he sprang! For you also do I weep — behold you I cannot — when I think of the bitter life in days to come which men will make you live. To what company of the citizens will ye go, to what festival, from which ye shall not return home in tears, instead of sharing in the holiday? But when ye are now come to years ripe for marriage, who shall he be, who shall be the man, my daughters, that will hazard taking unto him such reproaches as must be baneful alike to my offspring and to yours? For what misery is wanting? Your sire slew his sire, he had seed of her who bare him, and begat you at the sources of his own being! Such are the taunts that will be cast at you; and who then will wed? The man lives not, no, it cannot be, my children, but ye must wither in barren maidenhood. Ah, son of Menoeceus, hear me — since thou art the only father left to them, for we, their parents, are lost, both of us, — allow them not to wander poor and unwed, who are thy kinswomen, nor abase them to the level of my woes. Nay, pity them, when thou seest them at this tender age so utterly forlorn, save for thee. Signify thy promise, generous man, by the touch of thy hand! To you, my children, I would have given much counsel, were your minds mature; but now I would have this to be your prayer — that ye live where occasion suffers, and that the life which is your portion may be happier than your sire’s.
Creon.Thy grief hath had large scope enough: nay, pass into the house.
Oedipus.I must obey, though ’tis in no wise sweet.
Creon.Yea: for it is in season that all things are good.
Oedipus.Knowest thou, then, on what conditions I will go?
Creon.Thou shalt name them; so shall I know them when I hear.
Oedipus.See that thou send me to dwell beyond this land.
Creon.Thou askest me for what the god must give.
Oedipus.Nay, to the gods I have become most hateful.
Creon.Then shalt thou have thy wish anon.
Oedipus.So thou consentest?
Creon.’Tis not my wont to speak. idly what I do not mean.
Oedipus.Then ’tis time to lead me hence.
Creon.Come, then, — but let thy children go.
Oedipus.Nay, take not these from me!
Creon.Crave not to be master in all things: for the mastery which thou didst win hath not followed thee through life.
Chorus.Dwellers in our native Thebes, behold, this is Oedipus, who knew the famed riddle, and was a man most mighty; on whose fortunes what citizen did not gaze with envy? Behold into what a stormy sea of dread trouble he hath come! Therefore, while our eyes wait to see the destined final day, we must call no one happy who is of mortal race, until he hath crossed life’s border, free from pain.