CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME 
 OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT 
 FUND GIVEN IN 1891 BY 
 
 HENRY WILLIAMS SAGE 
 
Cornell University Library 
 PA 4414.A1Y72 
 
 English 
 
 Dramas of Sophocles rendered In 
 
 3 1924 026 593 420 
 
 DATE DUE 
 
WW r4 Cornell University 
 
 iHili jb) Library 
 
 The original of tliis book is in 
 tlie Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924026593420 
 
THE 
 
 DRAMAS OF SOPHOCLES 
 
 RENDERED IN 
 
 ENGLISH VERSE 
 
 DRAMATIC AND LYRIC 
 
 BY 
 
 SIR GEORGE YOUNG 
 
 BART, M.A, LL.D, FORMERLY FELLOW OF TRINITY 
 COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE. 
 
 CAMBRIDGE : 
 
 DEIGHTON, BELL AND CO. 
 
 LONDON: GEORGE BELL AND SONS. 
 

 \dTrov<T\ iv TpayiKois rjde x^P^'^'^^'^^^-'-^ 
 "BdKxov Kal Tov "BpwT, iyipaipe S^ 0etos aotSos 
 eiifj.eXL'Q' rdde yap Zei>s hropev 2o0o/cXet. 
 
 Hermesianax, Eleg. 57, restored (see p. xxvii). 
 
 
THE 
 
 DRAMAS OF SOPHOCLES 
 
 RENDERED IN 
 
 ENGLISH VERSE 
 
 DRAMATIC AND LYRIC 
 
/ CambrtSae : 
 
 PRINTED BY C. J. CLAY, M.A. AND SONS, 
 AT THE UNIVERSITY- PRESS. 'C" 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Pebface vii 
 
 
 Antigone i 
 
 Notes 60 
 
 AjAX 5 . -63 
 
 Notes . . . . . . . . . . .123 
 
 ELECTRA I2J^ 
 
 Notes 195 
 
 t^'<5EDiPus Tyrannds 199 
 
 Notes ■270 
 
 Trachiniae 27s 
 
 Notes 327 
 
 Philoctetes .... 331 
 
 ifotes ........... 397 
 
 \>»^EDIPUS COLONEUS 399 
 
 Notes 482 
 
 Fragments of the Lost Dramas 485 
 
 I. Attic Legends 488 
 
 II. Miscellaneous Legends 498 
 
 III. Story of Athamas 504 
 
 IV. The Argonauts . . . . . 505 
 V. Story of Telephus 5°? 
 
 VI. Story of Perseus 511 
 
 VII. Wars of Argos and Tliebes . . . 513 
 
 Vni. Legends of the House of Atreus . . . • 515 
 
 Y. A- ^ 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 IX. Stories from the Cycle of the War of Troy: i. The 
 
 Cypria S'^ 
 
 X. The same continued : 2. The Iliad . . • • 5^" 
 
 XI. The same continued : 3. The Little Iliad and the 
 
 Taking of Troy 5^7 
 
 XII. The same continued : 4. The Returns of the Heroes . 532 
 
 XIII. The same continued : 5. The Odyssey . . ■ 53^ 
 
 XIV. The later life of Ulysses S41 
 
 XV. Satyric Plays 54^ 
 
 XVI. Unknown Dramas 545 
 
PREFACE 
 
 Of the principal authors of Greek and Roman antiquity 
 Sophocles perhaps offers the most tempting field to a 
 translator, from the high standard of excellence maintained 
 in all the extant remains of his work, and from the 
 manageable dimensions within which, unfortunately, they are 
 comprised. This version has been for many years a com- 
 panion of my leisure hours. Perhaps, if I had foreseen 
 when I began it how much attention my poet was to receive 
 from contemporary translators, I should in modesty have 
 directed my own steps elsewhere ; for since that date have 
 appeared in print, besides single plays by various hands, 
 complete versions of the seven dramas by Professor 
 Plumptre of King's College, now Dean of Wells, by 
 Professor Lewis Campbell of St Andrews, and by Mr 
 Whitelaw of Rugby School. Each of these publications, in 
 turn, has caused me to hesitate whether I should ever 
 publish this work ; and yet, much as I have myself enjoyed 
 in them, and much as I have learnt from them, I cannot 
 think that either of them has so occupied the ground as to 
 render further intrusion upon it unwarrantable. They all 
 appear to me to labour under one serious defect ; that of 
 being difficult of perusal, apart from the original, as English 
 verse. Their authors, with whom in this respect must be 
 classed Professor D'Arcy Thompson, who in 1862 included 
 in his Ancient Leaves a somewhat prosaic rendering of 
 the Ajax, and Professor Kennedy, whose CEdipus Tyrannus 
 (published 1882) is a marvel of fidelity to the Greek — all, 
 
PREFACE 
 
 with hardly an exception, have approached their task as 
 teachers of Greek, rather than as writers of English. There 
 is, in consequence, in their lines I do not say too much 
 of the Greek scholar, but not enough of the English writer. 
 The exception, if any, is the version by the Dean of Wells. 
 In spite of the too evident haste in which it was composed, 
 it remains, in respect of poetical merit, as was to be 
 expected from so graceful a writer of original verse, the best. 
 On the other hand, although so largely corrected in a 
 second edition as to have been, in many parts, rather 
 rewritten than altered, it still lies open to criticism for 
 defects in scholarship'; while a certain monotony and want 
 of finish have prevented it from maintaining the high rank, 
 even in popular estimation, to which, at its first appearance, 
 it was welcomed by many, by myself among the number. 
 The scholarship of the other versions mentioned I do not 
 venture to criticize ; it is rather in their ideal of poetical 
 translation, in their choice of style, or in their dealings with 
 our common English speech, that I find matter of objection. 
 In particular, the form of blank verse adopted by all, 
 Dr Plumptre not excepted, appears to me inadequate ; 
 being for the most part idyllic rather than dramatic in type, 
 and where dramatic, either showing but little study of good 
 models, or study only of that most dangerous of models, the 
 Samson Agonistes. In none, moreover, have adequate 
 pains been taken with the Choruses ; although, considering 
 the difficulty of recommending to modern taste this charac- 
 teristic element in Greek drama, it would seem that here 
 especially is it incumbent on a translator to do his best. 
 
 By earlier labourers in the same field, I notice that in 
 1849 appeared three versions of single plays. That of the 
 Ajax, by the late G. Surges, is only amusing as a specimen 
 of pedantry. Dr Donaldson's Antigone is of unequal merit ; 
 it is often happy, indeed it is sometimes too ingenious for 
 beauty ; on the whole he may be said to have taken more 
 
 1 Ex. gi: cf. Aj. 1228 ; O. C. 484, 973, 1263. 
 
PREFACE ix 
 
 pains, and to have reached a higher standard of excellence, 
 where he is excellent, than any of his rivals. A graceful 
 version of the CEdtpus Tyrannus by Sir Francis Doyle 
 excites the wish that he had continued his career as a 
 translator. Mr E. D. A. Morshead has more recently 
 translated the same play with success. 
 
 The still earlier translators, Franklin, Potter and Dale, 
 are generally admitted to have failed, as the later trans- 
 lators seem to me to fail, in producing anything that can 
 be considered a standard English version of Sophocles. 
 Franklin rather paraphrases than translates ; Potter is more 
 faithful, but is prosaic and clumsy ; Dale, with a better ear 
 for verse, offends by the tasteless insertion of epithets, and 
 by his pomposity of style. 
 
 I will take as an example the small but very Sophoclean 
 part of Eurydice, Antigone 11. 1183 — 1191 (p. 52). This 
 speech (except as to one word, a.vaxT-Ka.uTov) presents no 
 linguistic difficulty, and is remarkable for its pathos, its 
 directness, its clear indication of character, and the 
 picturesque value of the words employed. 
 
 "^Q, TrdvTes dffTol, tujv \hytt)v iir7iiTd6fj.7jp 
 ■jrpis ^^oSov iTTelxovaa, IlaXXiiSos 6cas 
 blTiiis iKoiflTjv evyfidTiOP Trpoffijyopos' 
 Kal Tvyx^vta re K\-^dp' dvaatracTTOv 7nJX?;s 
 XaXwcra, Kai fie (pddyyo^ oUdov KaKou 
 )3dXXet 5t' wTtav • OiTTia d^ K\ivofji.aL 
 deiffaffa irpbs 5/iwat{r(, KairoTrX'^aaop^at.. 
 a'XX' flffTts rfv 6 fiOdos a^dis etVare* 
 KaKuv yap oliK diretpos odcr dKo6aofiaL. 
 
 Franklin is careless, and reads like a translation from 
 Corneille rather than from Sophocles ; but it is remarkable 
 that he alone has avoided the dramatic mistake of repre- 
 senting Eurydice to be already well aware of all that has 
 happened. < 
 
 citizens, as to Minerva's fane 
 
 E'en now I went, to pay my vows, the doors 
 
 1 burst, and heard imperfectly the sound 
 
 Of most disastrous news which touched me near. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 Breathless I fell amidst the virgin throng ; 
 And now I come to know the dreadful truth ; 
 Whate'er it be, I'll hear it now ; for oh 1 
 I am no stranger to calamity. 
 
 Potter is more literal, but his verse is graceless, and his 
 English is disfigured by harsh inversions. 
 
 Ye citizens of Thebes, I heard the voice 
 
 Of rumour, as I came forth, at the shrine 
 
 Of Pallas, suppliant, to address my vows ; 
 
 The bars that closed the gates it chanced my hand 
 
 Was opening ; at that instant the report 
 
 Of ill, my house affecting, reached my ear. 
 
 With terror struck, in my attendants' arms 
 
 I sunk, and life forsook my fainting frame. 
 
 But tell me all ; repeat the mournful tale ; 
 
 In woes not unexperienced I shall hear. 
 
 In the next version, which is Dale's, observe the 
 intruding adjectives "■chaste Athena", '■'■firm bars", '■^whis- 
 pered voice", " seiierest woes''; there is moreover a tone 
 of exaggeration about the whole, which makes it the least 
 pleasing to me of any. 
 
 Your conference we have heard, O citizens. 
 
 As we came forth, departing to prefer 
 
 Our suppliant prayers in chaste Athena's shrine. 
 
 While yet my hand was loosening the firm bars 
 
 Which close our palace-gates, the whispered voice 
 
 Of some domestic evil met mine ear; 
 
 Trembling I sunk among my maids supine, 
 
 With sudden terror lifeless. Yet again 
 
 I bid thee tell thy tale ; for I shall hear it 
 
 Not unexperienced in severest woes. 
 
 The Dean of Wells comes next, with a rendering which 
 is surely a great improvement on any of the preceding. A 
 little more accuracy, and a little adjustment, would have 
 rendered the following poetically, though not, I think, 
 dramatically, unexceptionable. 
 
 My friends, 
 I on my way without, as suppliant bound 
 To pay my vows at Pallas' shrine, have heard 
 
PREFACE 
 
 Your words, and so I chanced to slip the bolt 
 Of the half-opened door ; when lo ! a sound 
 Falls on my ears of evil near at hand, 
 And terror-struck I fell in deadly swoon 
 Back in my handmaids' arms ; yet tell it me, 
 Tell the tale once again ; for I shall hear 
 By long experience disciplined to grief. 
 
 Professor Campbell is unequal; his last line is very 
 good, and his last but one a failure ; in other respects he is 
 spirited and correct, but falls short of the Dean in taste, 
 and of Mr Whitelaw in fidelity. 
 
 People of Thebes, the tidings met mine ear 
 
 As I was coming forth to visit Pallas 
 
 With prayerful salutation. I was loosening 
 
 The bar of the closed gate, when the sharp sound 
 
 Of mine own sorrow smote against my heart, 
 
 And I fell back astonied on my maids 
 
 And fainted. But the tale ? tell me once more ; 
 
 I am no novice in adversity. 
 
 Mr Whitelaw writes in the same prosaic style as Potter, 
 but improves upon him, both in scholarship and in vigour. 
 
 Good townsmen all, your conference I heard 
 As to the doors I came, intending now 
 Of Pallas to entreat her heavenly aid. 
 Even as I loosed the fastenings of the gate 
 That opened wide, there smote my ears « word 
 Of sorrow all my own ; backward I swooned, 
 Surprised by terror, in my maidens' arms ; 
 But tell me now your tidings once again. 
 For not unlearned in sorrow I shall hear. 
 
 Donaldson's strong point, the firm finish of his lines 
 taken separately, is well brought out in the passage. 
 O all ye citizens, I heard the tidings, 
 As I was coming forth to bear my greeting 
 Of supplication to the Goddess Pallas. 
 Just as I loosed the bolt of the closed door. 
 Tidings of my own sorrow pierced my ears. 
 And horrified, I fell into the arms 
 Of these my followers, and my senses fled. 
 Whate'er the story was, tell it again. 
 To hear of sorrow is not new to me. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 Two or three obvious blemishes in these lines might 
 with care have been removed, and in that case this render- 
 ing would have been by a good deal the best, in my judg- 
 ment, of the series. 
 
 Whatever be the conclusion arrived at, as to the suffi- 
 ciency in point of style, and as to the merits in detail, of 
 previous translations, the publication at the present day of 
 a seventh attempt undoubtedly constitutes a challenge to 
 criticism, and no indulgence need be expected, on the score 
 of good intentions. It is allowable to a challenger, however, 
 to select the shield that he will touch. Besides the special 
 deficiencies above noticed, or exemplified, I seem to myself 
 to find, in all the existing translations, a want, first, of dram- 
 atic spirit in their dialogue, and secondly of poetic fidelity 
 in their lyrical parts. Fidelity I believe I may claim to have 
 preserved, in the Choruses as in the rest; but whether fidelity 
 has been reconciled with the genius of English poetry, and 
 whether dramatic energy has been attained, without sacrifice 
 of dignity, I will not venture to anticipate. My hope is that 
 at worst my rendering may be found more readable, while 
 not less accurate, than any other. 
 
 I have departed from the common practice of my pre- 
 decessors in one important respect, which it is due to them 
 to acknowledge. Instead of abstaining from consulting the 
 work of others, I have made use of it to the fullest legitimate 
 extent ; though it was not my practice to look at any other 
 translation of a passage, before completing my own first 
 draft. That is to say, all of the recent and much of the 
 earlier versions have been compared, line by line, with the 
 original; and every passage has been carefully revised, in 
 which the rendering of a predecessor put me out of conceit 
 with my own. In the great majority of these instances my 
 work has been amended, not by appropriating that of another, 
 but by devising something which, at the time, at all events, 
 pleased me better than either. Setting aside cases of coin- 
 cidence, there have not been borrowed more, in single lines 
 and half lines, than about twenty in all, from all sources. 
 
PREFACE xiii 
 
 whether verse or prose; together with, perhaps, a score of 
 single words. These obligations have been scrupulously ac- 
 knowledged in my notes. My whole debt, in the shape of 
 assistance to understand the original, and avoid errors, is not 
 so easily acquitted ; and I desire especially to mention in this 
 connexion the instruction I ha^e derived from the recent 
 editions of Professors Jebb and Campbell. 
 
 The order in which the seven plays have been printed 
 may possibly be considered an innovation. But it is merely 
 that of the most ancient lists, with the Antigone and (Edipus 
 Coloneus transferred to their more probably correct places, in 
 the order of production. From these I suppose them to 
 have been removed, with questionable taste, so as to follow 
 the CEdipus Tyrannus, in order that the Theban story might 
 be read as far as possible consecutively; and perhaps also 
 in order to countenance the fiction that these plays were 
 component parts of an .^schylean Trilogy. Sophocles loses 
 greatly, if his dramas are not studied with some reference to 
 the date at which they were composed. The Philoctetes and 
 (Edipus Coloneus represent a phase of art removed by more 
 than a full generation from that of the Antigone and Ajax. 
 To mention one circumstance only out of many; in the three 
 later plays alone is the influence of Euripides discernible; 
 and much less in the two last than in the Trachinice, written 
 in all probability when that influence was at its height. 
 
 Questions of text are not often of importance to a trans- 
 lator. I have therefore contented myself with that of Din- 
 dorf {Foeta Scenici Grceci, 1851, and the small Oxford edition 
 of 1847), as being the text most widely circulated in England. 
 All the places have been indicated in notes where a reading 
 of better authority has been preferred, provided the sense of 
 the translation is thereby materially affected. In only four in- 
 stances (Antig. 130; AJax 966; CEd. Tyr. 575; Track. 145) 
 did I venture on a conjectural emendation of my own; in 
 each case the alteration of text is very slight, but that of mean- 
 ing considerable; and the sense in each appeared to me to 
 gain greatly by the change. It was with more relief to my 
 
 Y. A. c 
 
xiv PREFACE 
 
 apprehensions than disappointment to my vanity, that 1 
 subsequently found I had been, in every instance, antici- 
 pated; in the first passage by Mr Blaydes, in the second by 
 Eustathius, in the third I am happy to say by the MSS. them- 
 selves, which appear to me to have been altered by Brunck 
 without sufficient warrant, and in the fourth by Mr Paley. 
 A trifling suggestion as to the last word of fr. 33 is rendered 
 superfluous by Bentley's emendation of a diff'erent reading. 
 
 The fragments of lost plays have not hitherto been in- 
 cluded by any translator except the Dean of Wells; who has 
 given a liberal selection from them, very successfully ren- 
 dered. Some of the best have also been translated by 
 Professor D'Arcy Thompson, and by Professor Campbell, 
 among their miscellaneous writings. In my version I have 
 endeavoured to invest these relics with some further in- 
 terest, through the short notices, chiefly drawn from Welcker 
 (Die Griechischen Tragoedien mit Rikksicht auf den epischen 
 Cydus, Bonn, 1839), of what is either known or plausibly 
 conjectured of the plot and characters of the drama from 
 which each was taken. Since no approximation can in this 
 case be made to a chronological order, I have followed 
 Welcker's example in classifying the plays mentioned ac- 
 cording to subject; but I have not adopted his arrangement, 
 which depends too exclusively upon his comparisons with 
 the Homeric cycle. 
 
 The CEdipus Tyrannus, as it appears in these pages, was 
 issued separately in 1887, at the time when the play was 
 being produced on the Cambridge stage by the University 
 Greek Plays Committee. The suggestion made in my note 
 on line 445, that Oidipus should then retire, so as not to 
 hear the revelation of Tiresias which follows, "Tiresias, from 
 his blindness, remaining unaware of the fact," was tried by 
 the actors on that occasion, as well as the traditional arrange- 
 ment; and the preference has been given, by many good 
 judges, to the innovation. As I saw the play performed 
 CEdipus made his exit somewhat too abruptly. On a larger 
 stage this would easily have been rectified. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 I shall here mention the principal canons which, by 
 degrees, I established for myself in translation, and by which 
 I have been guided in revision. I do not claim to have 
 discovered anything that is important in the art; indeed 
 most of what follows is rather the restatement of old prin- 
 ciples, some of which seem to me to have been obscured 
 by the fashion of the time. 
 
 I. First of all stands the hard and yet self-rewarding 
 duty of always taking pains. It is not enough to make 
 careful versions of favourite passages, and to fill up the 
 intervals with a rapidly written sketch. Where the diction 
 of Sophocles is least poetical, the purport is often dramatic- 
 ally most interesting. When his dramatic interest begins to 
 flag, the chances are that he supplies a new source of interest, 
 through his rapid and glowing rhetoric. It is hard on the 
 whole to say whether his more or his less obviously important 
 passages demand the greater care in a translator, or better 
 repay his pains. There is, however, a special reason for 
 fidelity in dealing with passages where, owing to their cele- 
 brity or beauty, it may be assumed that the reader will be the 
 more anxious to know as exactly as possible what the author 
 intended to convey. Such passages it has been my practice 
 to carry about with me, turning them in various ways, and so 
 gradually approaching nearer to a good rendering. Several 
 of the Choruses have been rendered twice, some three times, 
 in different metres, before I could satisfy myself that they 
 might pass. On an average, each play was rather more than 
 two years in hand; and the whole has been repeatedly 
 revised, during the ten years which have elapsed since its 
 completion. 
 
 II. ' Secondly, although the best of translations can 
 hardly be mistaken for an English original, either ancient or 
 modern, yet none the less must every translation into 
 English be recognizable above all things for an English work. 
 To this end the classic forms of English literature should be 
 strictly observed. It is not permitted to a translator to in- 
 novate. For instance, in the department of metre, Dean 
 
xvi PREFACE 
 
 Alford in his Homer, and Mr Robert Browning in his 
 Agamemnon of ^schylus, attempted an eleven-syllable line, 
 previously unknown, except as a variation of the decasyllabic ; 
 but even Mr Browning marred a great book in consequence ; 
 and Alford is unreadable. Similarly it is not for the transla- 
 tor, as a rule, to be introducing new forms of diction, or new 
 canons of taste, it is already hard enough for him to con- 
 ciliate acceptance for what is exotic in his author, without 
 raising additional difficulties, through his own indolence or 
 caprice. Grsecisms, and vulgarisms, and quaintnesses of all 
 sorts, are alike condemnable ; hard as it is to eHminate 
 them altogether. EngUsh archaicisms are dangerous indul- 
 gences; even the use of "thou" for "you,"' and the cor- 
 responding verb forms, should rarely be employed, and only 
 for good reason assignable. In this respect I am aware 
 that the common practice of translators is against me. Led 
 by the influence of the Bible translators of King James, who 
 followed those of the time of Henry VHI., they overlook the 
 fact that the Elizabethan poets, after trying both usages, re- 
 jected the older one for the newer, except only where a 
 special diction was required, more impassioned, more cere- 
 monious or more peremptory than usual. A double usage, 
 in their case, was rendered possible by the change in com- 
 mon parlance, which was then actually in progress. This 
 change was obviously promoted by the difficulty of dealing 
 in harmonious dialogue with the harsh second persons singu- 
 lar of past tenses. Such forms as "attemptedst " and 
 "banishedst," "rosest" and "raisedst," or (still worse) 
 "soar'dst" and "bor'st" are offences to the ear, for which the 
 convenience of retaining both singular and plural pronoun- 
 forms is an insufficient compensation. There is something to 
 be said, in opposition to rigid purism, in favour of the free use 
 of both forms, as the ear may prescribe; but the alternation 
 should not, of course, be carried into extremes. Always to 
 use "thou" produces upon my ear the effect of falsetto; on 
 the other hand there are passages in which to use "you" is 
 too familiar for tragedy. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 For similar reasons proper names should be given in 
 their EngHsh dresses ; the Greek diphthongs, u's, k's, and 
 terminations in -os being still as much, in my opinion, 
 mere barbarisms in an English book, as when they were 
 first imported, not from Greece, but from Germany. 
 "Aias" and "Poluneikes," in our Roman characters, appear 
 to me not so much Greek, as queer; and such fantastic 
 combinations of letters as "Klutaimnestra"' and "Oidipous"' 
 stand, if for anything, for sounds not so near to the most 
 probable authentic pronunciation of the names, as are the 
 more popular forms in common use among ourselves. I 
 have not used Latin correlatives for the names of Greek 
 deities : but I have allowed myself, as English forms, 
 "Proserpine," and "Jove" for the unmanageable "Zeus'." 
 I have used my full liberty as a writer of English in dealing 
 with proper names, especially in their adjectival forms ; 
 also in throwing back the accent (as in "Et^ocles," "Cad- 
 mean," "Sperchius," and once — metri gratis — "Par- 
 nasus") thereby following, as I consider, the best traditions 
 of the English language. The same traditions are my 
 justification for an occasional abbreviation, such as "Amphi- 
 trite" or "Polydore" pronounced as a trisyllable. In all 
 such matters English rather than Greek rules are to be 
 observed. It is better to do as Shakspeare and Dryden did 
 before us, than to disfigure English verse with Greek 
 spelHng, or to spoil English accent out of deference to 
 Greek quantity. The story of Gibson's hat-box (see his Life 
 by Lady Eastlake, p. 233) may be commended to all critics 
 who, like his Greeks, have an unreasoning respect for 
 "the number Three." 
 
 '^ In justification of this I may observe that the Greeks themselves 
 evidently disliked the forms of the declined cases of Zeus, and took 
 refuge in Dios, Dia, by preference. The whole subject is a minor 
 matter, in my judgment ; and I here enter rny protest against the ex- 
 aggerated importance attached to it by some Classical periodicals, which 
 did me the honour shortly to notice my version of the QLdifus Tyranm<s. 
 If I err, I err in company with the whole body of first class English 
 literature, Mr Browning excepted, and three-quarters of Mr Grote. 
 
xviii PREFACE 
 
 III. I have taken it for granted that verse may best 
 be represented by verse, as prose by prose. To this rule 
 there may be exceptions in other departments of literature : 
 thus a prose version of Homer is most pleasing to some, 
 and the Prayer-book version of the Psalms out-sings all 
 metrical versions. But prose drama, of the serious kind, 
 has never been effectually naturahzed among us; and for 
 this reason, if for no other, a prose translator of Sophocles 
 is attempting the inadmissible. With regard to metre, for 
 the dialogue the great Elizabethan models are not to be 
 ignored. The verse of Fletcher is the easiest, perhaps, 
 among the greater masters to be imitated ; that of Massinger 
 is perhaps nearest to the antique ; but that of Shakspeare, 
 in his central or later central period, is at once of more 
 general application, more rich in variety, and more pleasing. 
 It has also secured, what is of great moment to an imitator, 
 a succession of poets who have shown the way to imitate it. 
 Take for instance such pieces of finished versification as 
 the speech of Brutus — 
 
 "No, not an oath," etc. J. C. Act II. Sc. i, 
 or of Cyril in the second book of the Princess, 
 
 " Should I not call her wise, who made me wise? " etc. 
 
 The principal characteristics of such verse as this I 
 understand to be its nervousness, and its rapidity. By 
 virtue of the first, the peculiarities of accent and sound 
 contribute, more than in any other verse, to enhance the 
 meaning; by virtue of the second it is simply the most 
 readable poetry in the language. 
 
 The representing each line of the original by a line of 
 translation, neither less nor more, I regard as a superstition. 
 The stateliness of the effect produced, where the meaning 
 of a passage marches with the line, is a point, no doubt, to 
 be carefully observed ; so also is the emphasis given to a 
 phrase, by making it exactly coincident with a line. But 
 the English decasyllabic is shorter by two places than the 
 Greek trimeter Iambic ; and even if we allow for the shorter 
 
PREFACE xix 
 
 forms of words in English, I have generally found that at 
 least eleven lines, containing a smaller number of syllables 
 than ten lines of Greek, are necessary fully to convey their 
 meaning, unless an undue number of monosyllables is 
 employed. I have allowed myself, in a much greater 
 degree than the original, the liberty of ending and beginning 
 speeches in the middle of the hne. In English drama this 
 practice is legitimate ; in Greek it is exceptional. But there 
 seems no reason for introducing a Greek limitation, of no 
 beauty in itself, into a purely English measure. In the case 
 of the single line dialogues, which form so characteristic a 
 feature of Attic drama, the breaking of the line has been 
 peremptorily condemned by some critics. To insist upon 
 this in all cases appears to me a "hat-box."' If the meaning 
 of the original can only be given by breaking the line, I 
 have not scrupled to break it. This is surely better than 
 to resort to obscure compressions, harsh inversions, and 
 omissions of important words. Nevertheless, where 
 possible, I allow that the form, as well as the meaning, 
 should in this particular be preserved. This is especially 
 desirable, where a formal tone in the dialogue is made more 
 emphatic by the formality of the verse. 
 
 For the Choruses, if they stood by themselves, I think a 
 prose rendering might more easily be tolerated, than for the 
 dialogue. I still remember with pleasure the eloquent ren- 
 derings of those in the BacchcB of Euripides with which the 
 late Master of Trinity used to adorn his lectures on the play. 
 But prose interludes, in poetic drama, do not give the 
 effect of song. What, after all, was the artistic value of the 
 Choric element in representation ? At the conclusion of each 
 scene, in the absence of a curtain to descend upon the stage, 
 the attention of spectators was held in suspense, not wholly 
 diverted from the action, by the singing of an impassioned 
 ode, or by the declamation of a brilliant scena, generally 
 reproducing the motive of the last Act, and adorned with 
 all the available resources of instrumental music and the 
 dance. Our English poetic literature is as rich as the Greek 
 
PREFACE 
 
 in the varied music of stately measures, suitable to render 
 all the modes of the Attic chorus. The selection of a 
 stanza is a matter of taste. For models I have resorted 
 freely to the poets; and in this respect I must especially 
 refer with gratitude to Mr Swinburne, whose beautiful 
 innovations in lyric metre have often started me afresh, 
 when brought fairly to a standstill through poverty of 
 invention. In the absence of knowledge how the Greek 
 actors recited and sung, it is a waste of labour to try and 
 reproduce the hit of the original. To do this with accuracy 
 is impossible in a language on which no poet has as yet 
 engrafted a complete system of prosody for quantitative 
 verse. To preserve a correspondence between strophe and 
 antistrophe, and a studied relation, oftener of contrast than 
 of resemblance, between one strophic system and another, 
 is essential, if the translation is to represent a Greek chorus, 
 and not a rhapsody. Rhyme I have almost always employed, 
 for the simple reason that to write lyric blank verse tolerably 
 is so very much more difficult. A few of the shorter passages 
 of lyrical interlude have been suffered to lapse into ordinary 
 blank verse, distinguishable only from the regular dialogue 
 by peculiarities of rhythm and diction. 
 
 Among the Greek metres the anapaestic or marching 
 measure holds a place by itself. The number of experi- 
 ments I have tried for it is a point that needs apology ; but 
 I may plead that Sophocles uses it in passages varying 
 widely in sentiment and tone. The late Professor Coning- 
 ton, in his Agamemnon of ^schylus, boldly maintained that 
 the so-called English anapaestic tetrameter, a jingling ballad 
 hne, to the tune of 
 
 " You are old, father William, the young man said" — 
 
 was as nearly as possible its equivalent. But Mr Matthew 
 Arnold in his Fragment of an Antigone bestowed upon 
 us a rhymeless anapse.stic measure, quantitative as well as 
 accentual, and with a reversed accentuation, as mucli more 
 beautiful in itself, as it better represents, to my ear, the 
 
PREFACE 
 
 tread of the original. This metre I would gladly have 
 employed throughout, but for its great difficulty. I notice 
 that Mr. Arnold permitted himself often to neglect quantity, 
 and occasionally to change the accent. Such license, in 
 feebler hands, extinguishes the music. The stricter form I 
 have perforce adopted is hard to manage. I have used it, 
 however, for the short overtures, which in the earlier plays 
 precede the entrance of new characters upon the stage. The 
 old rough tetrameter of Ralph Roister Doister, employed 
 by Shakspeare in his early comedies, has appeared to me 
 a better substitute for the Greek trochaic verse, than the so- 
 called English trochaic. The conclusion of the Qidipus 
 Tyranniis must, I think, be treated lyrically. 
 
 IV. In transcribing from one language into another, 
 the right order of procedure appears to be, first of all, to 
 take into account the entire purport and value of the 
 passage, including both sound and sentiment, together with 
 the notions to be conveyed. Next in order of consideration 
 stand the particular words for which it is desirable to give a 
 separate equivalent. I have not thought it incumbent on 
 me always to render the same Greek word by the same 
 English one. This principle has been adopted by the 
 revisers of the Bible, but is not warranted by their prede- 
 cessors, or by any of the best English translators in verse. 
 In the third place comes to be considered the order of the 
 words ; often of importance hardly inferior to that of the 
 words themselves ; and in the last place, and first of all to 
 be sacrificed, where sacrifice is necessary, the syntax. In 
 laying this down as a canon of translation I feel it necessary 
 to guard against my being misunderstood. I claim to have 
 paid, in the first stage of the work, as much attention as 
 any of my predecessors to the niceties of grammatical 
 construction'. In the result I believe I am as close to the 
 
 ' Perhaps I may be allowed to specify, as one instance of the pains 
 that have been taken, my general avoidance of the common confusion 
 between the aorist tense on the one hand, and the perfect, or Sophoclean 
 perfect (^x" with the aor. part.) on the other. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 letter of Sophocles as Potter and Mr Whitelaw, and much 
 closer than Professors Campbell and Plumptre ; though I 
 cannot cope, in this respect, with Dr Kennedy. But I 
 think, when the translator comes to composition, that it is 
 his duty to postpone the grammatical form of the sentence 
 to its expressional value ; and to seek rather the best 
 English rendering of the latter, than the English phrase 
 which most nearly corresponds to the former. I would not 
 willingly neglect a single significant particle ; even the Greek 
 order and construction I would follow, if it makes as good 
 Enghsh as any other ; but it is better to turn a whole clause 
 inside out, exchanging the places of the nominative and 
 accusative, and substituting a passive for an active voice, or 
 turning adjectives into adverbs, and redistributing the 
 meaning between noun and verb, than to employ crude and 
 canine English. Perhaps in a majority of cases, certainly 
 in many, the closest rendering is not the most faithful. 
 
 With regard to obscurities in the original, I conceive 
 that it is a translator's duty always to make sense, never 
 forgetting that his author was presumably a man of sense. 
 In desperate places a note is allowable, but an ambiguity 
 never. Grammatical imperfection is not to be reproduced ; 
 but a grammatical peculiarity may sometimes have a 
 dramatic intention, and in this case should not be neglected. 
 The alternative meanings, which some scholars find so 
 plentiful in Sophocles, would be untranslatable even if 
 authentic, and I incline, always, to doubt their authenticity. 
 
 V. The last of my canons, and not the least important, 
 is that poetry should always be rendered by poetry. Beauty 
 must be given to the transcript of a passage, which the 
 author intended should produce the effect of beauty. More- 
 over, so far as the forms of our language and the genius of 
 our Hterature will allow, this beauty must be, not a substitute, 
 but the same that was intended. Imagery and pathos must 
 be carefully treasured ; the pace at which the original moves 
 must be observed; strong words, repetitions and surprises 
 must be marked ; a studied order in the sentence, or even 
 
PREFACE xxiii 
 
 a studied languor in the diction, if it have a dramatic or 
 poetic value, must on no account be ignored. I heartily 
 repudiate the doctrine of compensation, whereby, when 
 beauty has been missed, other ornament is imported, to 
 make up a general effect. There is no play of Sophocles 
 which has not its purple passages : and many of the 
 fragments are flawless gems. On the other hand there are 
 a very few places, in which some softening of the literal 
 expressions is necessary. For instance, all the extant 
 translations of (Ed. Tyr. 1275-8, Franklin's excepted, pro- 
 duce on me the effect of a most painful burlesque. 
 
 If to be offensive is high treason in a translator, to be 
 prosy is petty treason. All the same, he must not be 
 scared out of fidelity by the fear of not being poetical 
 enough. He will find it vain to attempt to satisfy the 
 many, intoxicated as they are with the beauties of roman- 
 ticism, accustomed to expect colour and verbal decora- 
 tion in every page, almost in every line of verse. But the 
 truly Sophoclean beauties of English literature — Pericles 
 mourning over Thaisa — Artevelde rebuking the envoys — 
 have not lost their charm. The closer he keeps to his text, 
 the better the chance he will have of touching, here and 
 there, one of those deeper notes, that thrill the heart, as 
 with poetical magic. 
 
 For purposes of revision I have found it necessary that 
 a translation should be put away for some time, and then 
 taken up afresh. I suppose that it would be possible, in 
 the case of an author like Sophocles, to go on for a hundred 
 years revising, once in every ten years or so, and each time 
 getting nearer to an adequate representation. But a day 
 must come when the resulting heap of filings is small, in 
 comparison with the labour expended. It is then time 
 either to publish the result, or to put it behind the fire. 
 There are those who would advise, in all cases, the latter 
 course ; argumg that no poetical translation from the 
 classics, as a literary work, can by possibility have a title to 
 exist. To this doctrine the works of both the greater and 
 
xxiv PRE FA CE 
 
 lesser masters in the art, of Pope and Shelley, as of 
 Conington and Calverley, supply a sufficient refutation. In 
 the same spirit did a great art-critic once advise us to 
 commit to the flames all our best line-engravings from the 
 paintings of Rafaelle or Correggio. These are rhetorical 
 enhancements of a good argument, the argument that 
 imitative or reproductive art has not the same value — has 
 not even the same kind of value — as original work. The 
 fallacy becomes obvious, if the argument is applied, as it 
 should be in consistency, to the part of the performer in 
 music, or of the actor in drama. Even in sculpture the 
 process of production is largely mechanical and imitative. 
 
 Poetical translation, indeed, may be compared in many 
 respects to the copying by a carver of an antique. Before 
 him stands the immortal original, cast, as it were, in im- 
 perishable bronze; but the secret of the material is lost, 
 and the mould is broken. The translator brings his modern 
 language, exquisite in refinement, but deficient in plasticity; 
 he places his marble by the side of the metal, and searches 
 for the statue hidden in the stone. The earlier stages of 
 the work are easy ; freely he hews at the mass, guiding his 
 chisel by the eye or pointer, trusting to the mechanical 
 accuracy of his scholarship, or to the first impressions of his 
 poetic insight. Many carry their work no further forward 
 than this stage. Soon however the true craftsman is seen 
 to hold his hand ; he falls to comparing and measuring, to 
 experimenting, and again correcting. Sometimes he cuts 
 too deep ; the result is bald and mean. Sometimes, in 
 striving to be literal, he has lost the spirit ; he finds his 
 material inadequate or traitorous, too scant of imminent 
 shadow, or too absorbent of the relieving light. Sometimes 
 again he is tempted to chase, as it were, the drapery of his 
 figure with modern ornament; beautiful, it may be, in 
 itself, or acceptable for associations' sake; but on second 
 thoughts to be discarded and condemned, as repugnant to 
 the style and features of the model. The moments are rare 
 when, in happier mood, he seems to attain to something of 
 
PREFACE XXV 
 
 inspiration ; when the verse becomes ductile, moulded to 
 the shape and informed with the sentiment of the original ; 
 when he is able to say with confidence, "so might my author 
 have expressed himself, if English, not Greek, had been his 
 vehicle." When all is done, there will remain only an 
 outline, a faint adumbration, of what was embodied by the 
 master. Yet in spite of shortcomings, to the loyal workman 
 there will come a conviction that his labour was not wasted. 
 Through his means some home-keeping lovers of ideal 
 beauty will discern, as Keats did, beyond the ages, those 
 charmful graces which first prompted his endeavour. By 
 the help of the copy which he places in their chamber 
 some, whose ranging days are over, will be assisted to recall 
 the lineaments of the master-piece which they visited in 
 youth across the sea. 
 
 I do not propose to detain my readers from Sophocles 
 by any lengthened criticism or comment. All that I might 
 have cared to indicate, either of beauties not certain to be 
 recognized, or of popular mistake in the apprehension of 
 character, I have tried to embody in my translation. I 
 incline to that view of the art of Sophocles which regards 
 him as before all things an artist, and only incidentally as a 
 teacher or preacher ; which I should rather say does not so 
 regard him at all. This is not however the same thing as 
 to hold that he is indifferent to rightness and wrongness of 
 view, in any of the great provinces of human conduct. On 
 the contrary, I recognize that he, more than either of his 
 great rivals, appreciated the poetic value of rectitude, and 
 delighted in contrasting it with the ugliness of error, 
 .i^schylus classes his personages as heroes, and the enemies 
 of heroes ; as persons with whom, or against whom, we are 
 expected to take part. His hero indeed may be defective, 
 and his villain may have excuse ; but we are not allowed to 
 see the one doing anything to imperil our moral approval, or 
 the other anything to conciliate it. Like the good and bad 
 characters of a fairy tale, such personages are apt to become 
 insipid ; and they are in fact saved from this, dramatically 
 
PREFACE 
 
 speaking, only by the interposition of another element, an 
 element beyond the region of character, their exposure to 
 the stress of supernatural agency. Euripides, who represents, 
 not the succession to the art of Sophocles, but a contem- 
 porary revolt against it, a revolt which, whatever degree of 
 vogue it obtained at the time, was in literature after all 
 a failure, shows himself generally hostile to religious feeling, 
 and as nearly as possible indifferent to morality. His great 
 resources for exciting interest, apart from esteem, are the 
 pathos of natural affections, and the tendency to compassion 
 (rather than passion) for what is maidenly in humanity. 
 But these, when tested in drama after drama, finally fail 
 to sustain our sympathy. / Sophocles, as a poet inferior 
 to ^schylus, and hardly superior to Euripides, as a 
 dramatist soars far above them both.J To him first it 
 was given to sound the depths and explore the shoals of 
 human nature. He paints for us real men and women, 
 though on the heroic scale ; the good are faulty, the bad in 
 some respects are amiable; he does not ignore that 
 goodness is amiable, or that faults are bad things in 
 themselves ; but he does not make it the business of his 
 poetry to proclaim or emphasize the fact. Moralists 
 therefore, and politicians, and even theologians, may 
 read him with edification, and draw texts from him for 
 their most serious discourses ; but let them not appropriate 
 him, or impute to him their systems. For my own part, I 
 have found in these dramas at one time the expression of 
 a simple piety, at another a protest against popular 
 superstition ; here praise of a docile acceptance of authority, 
 there a vindication of the necessity of rebellion; a high 
 appreciation of the nobility of duty, and a full appreciation, 
 also, of the excellence of pleasure. In one word, Sophocles 
 is a dramatist. He is an artist in human character. 
 
 _ His back-grounds are the sunlight, the sea, the moun- 
 tains, and the cultivated surface of the earth. His material 
 is the most flexible and sonorous of languages. His style is 
 like Ionian drapery, faultless alike where it clothes, and 
 
PREFACE 
 
 where it reveals ; but better suited to dignified movement 
 than to energetic action, and perhaps most beautiful in 
 complete repose. 
 
 One note I have to add, by way not so much of addition 
 to the little that is known of Sophocles, as of protestation 
 against an injury which has been done to his memory. 
 Athenseus has preserved to us, in part, a spirited elegiac 
 poem, by Hermesianax of Colophon, a writer of the third 
 century b. c, in which are enumerated several instances of 
 poets and philosophers who have exemplified the power of 
 Love. Among them Sophocles finds place ; but so far from 
 confirming the scandalous stories with which (as in the case 
 of every other celebrity) Athenseus labours to besmirch his 
 name, the poem in his case contains no biographical 
 allusion, but rises, for once, into not unmusical praise of 
 his transcendent literary merit. Unfortunately the quatrain 
 which refers to Sophocles is sadly defective, the second 
 hexameter concluding with a mass of unintelligible syllables 
 (ayeipai^eiapeiSos), while one half of the following penta- 
 meter is lost. Under these circumstances the perverted 
 ingenuity of a certain class of commentators — one of them 
 a would-be translator of Sophocles — has been at pains to 
 fill up the gap with unworthy names and items, raked out 
 of the unsavoury heap which Athensus swept together, in 
 which this poem, and many yet brighter jewels, lie im- 
 bedded. Thus what should have been a tribute to the 
 personal blamelessness as well as to the genius of Sophocles 
 has been unfairly wrested into a confirmation of Hbels on 
 his character. Meanwhile the verses as they stand admit 
 of a better, more natural, and entirely innocent construction ; 
 they may easily be restored by conjecture ; and I have 
 accordingly made bold to take them, with a suggested 
 restoration, for my motto, in the desire to do tardy justice, 
 at once to Sophocles and to his eulogist. My suggestion, 
 it will be perceived, is largely due to Ruhnken, who 
 first pointed out the reference to the Homeric Hymn 
 
xxviii PRE FA CE 
 
 to Hermes, 1. 429; it has also been partly anticipated by 
 Weston ; of what remains, the form evfitXtr] will be found 
 in the same Hymn, 1. 325, as it has been most credibly 
 emended by Hermann. 
 
 The figure of Triptolemus on the cover is taken from 
 the fine contemporary Vase (British Museum, E. 137; 
 Monumenti Inediti, Vol. ix., PI. XLIH.) signed by Hiero, 
 representing the Gods and Heroes connected with the 
 Eleusinian Mysteries. It has been copied for me by 
 Mr Alfred Hodgson, under the kind superintendence of 
 Mr A. S. Murray, to whom I am further indebted for help 
 in compiling my notes on Elect. 746, and Fr. 678. 
 
ANTIGONE 
 
ANTIGONE 
 
 persons represented 
 
 Antigone,! 
 
 y daughters of CEdipus, late king of Thebes. 
 
 Creon, brother to focasta', late queen of Thebes, Captain- 
 general of the army, and successor to the throne. 
 
 A Sentinel. 
 
 H^mon, son to Creon, betrothed to Antigone. 
 
 TiRESIAS, a seer. 
 
 A Messenger in attendance on Creon. 
 
 EURYDICE, wife to Creon. 
 
 The Chorus is composed oj Senators of Thebes. 
 Guards; Attendants; a Boy leadi?ig Tiresias. 
 
ANTIGONE 
 
 Scene, before the Royal Palace at Thebes. Time, early 
 morning. Enter Antigone and Ismene. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Ismene, dear Ismene, sister mine, 
 
 Do you perceive how Heaven upon us two 
 
 Means to fulfil, before we come to die. 
 
 Out of all ills that grow from CEdipus — 
 
 What not, indeed? for there's no sorrow or harm, 
 
 Occasion of dishonour or disgrace, 
 
 Such as I have not seen, among my griefs 
 
 And yours ; and now again, what is it they say 
 
 Our Captain-general has proclaimed but now 
 
 To the whole city ? Did you hear and heed ? 
 
 Or are you blind, while pains of enemies i 
 
 Are passing on your friends? 
 
 Ismene 
 
 Antigone, 
 To me no tidings about friends are come, 
 Pleasant or grievous, ever since we two 
 Of our two brothers were bereft, who died 
 Both in one day, each by the other's hand. 
 And since the Argive host in this same night 
 Took itself hence, I have heard nothing else, 
 To make me happier, or more miserable. 
 
6 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Antigone 
 
 I knew as much; and for that reason I made you 
 Go out of doors — to tell you privately. 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 What is it? I see you have some mystery. 20 
 
 Antigone 
 
 What ! has not Creon to the tomb preferred 
 
 One of our brothers, and with contumely 
 
 Withheld it from the other? Eteocles 
 
 Duly, they say, even as by law was due. 
 
 He hid beneath the earth, rendering him honour 
 
 Among the dead below; but the dead body 
 
 Of Polynices, miserably slain, 
 
 They say it has been given out publicly 
 
 None may bewail, none bury, all must leave 
 
 Unwept, unsepulchred, a dainty prize 
 
 For fowl that watch, gloating upon their prey ! 30 
 
 This is the matter he has had proclaimed — 
 
 Excellent Creon ! for your heed, they say. 
 
 And mine, I tell you — mine ! and he moves hither. 
 
 Meaning to announce it plainly in the ears 
 
 Of such as do not know it, and to declare 
 
 It is no matter of small moment ; he 
 
 Who does any of these things shall surely die ; 
 
 The citizens shall stone him in the streets. 
 
 So stands the case. Now you will quickly show 
 
 Whether you are worthy of your birth or no. 
 
 Ismene 
 
 But O rash heart, what good, if it be thus, 
 
 Could I effect, helping or hindering? 40 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Look, will you help me? will you work with me? 
 
 Ismene 
 
 To what end ? What do you mean ? 
 
ANTIGONE 
 
 The body up — 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Help me to lift 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 What, would you bury him? 
 Against the proclamation? 
 
 Antigone I 
 
 My own brother 
 And yours I will ! If you will not, I will ; 
 I shall not prove disloyal. 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 You are mad ! 
 When Creon has forbidden it? 
 
 Antigone 
 
 From mine own — 
 
 He has no right to stay me. 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 Alas, O sister, 
 Think how our father perished ! self-convict — 
 Abhorred — dishonoured — blind — his eyes put out 50 
 
 By his own hand ! Then she, who was at once 
 His wife and mother, with a knotted noose 
 Laid violent hands on her own life 1 Then thirdly 
 Our two unhappy brothers in one day 
 Each on his own head by the other's hand 
 Wrought common ruin ! We now left alone — 
 Do but consider how most miserably \ 
 
 We too shall perish, if despite of law 
 We traverse the behest or power of kings. \ 60 
 
 We must remember we are women born. 
 Unapt to cope with men ; and, being ruled 
 By mightier than ourselves, we have to hear 
 These things — and worse. For my own part, I will ask 
 
8 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Pardon of those beneath, for what perforce 
 I needs must do, but yield obedience 
 To them that walk in power; to exceed 
 Is madness, and not wisdom. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Then in future 
 I will not bid you help me ; nor henceforth, 
 Though you desire, shall you, with my good will, 70 
 
 Share what I do. Be what seems right to you; 
 Him will I bury. Death, so met, were honour; 
 And for that capital crime of piety, 
 Loving and loved, I will lie by his side. 
 J'ar longer is there need I satisfy 
 Those nether Powers, than powers on earth ; for there 
 For ever must I lie. You, if you will, 
 Hold up to scorn what is approved of Heaven ! 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 I am not one to cover things with scorn ; 
 But I was born too feeble to contend 
 Against the state. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Yes, you can put that forward; 80 
 But I will go and heap a burial mound 
 Over my most dear brother. 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 My poor sister, 
 How beyond measure do I fear for you ! 
 
 Antigone 
 Do not spend fear on me. Shape your own course. 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 At least announce it, then, to nobody. 
 But keep it close, as I will. 
 
ANTIGONE 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Tell it, tell it! 
 You'll cross me worse, by far, if you keep silence — 
 Not publish it to all. 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 Your heart beats hotly 
 For chilUng work ! 
 
 Antigone 
 
 I know that those approve 
 Whom I most need to please. 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 If you could do it ! 90 
 
 But you desire impossibilities. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Well, when I find I have no power to stir, 
 I will cease trying. 
 
 Ismene 
 
 But things impossible 
 'Tis wrong to attempt at all. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 If you will say so, 
 I shall detest you soon; and you will justly 
 Incur the dead man's hatred. Suffer me 
 And my unwisdom to endure the weight 
 Of what is threatened. I shall meet with nothing 
 More grievous, at the worst, than death, with honour. 
 
 Ismene 
 
 Then go, if you will have it : and take this with you. 
 You go on a fool's errand ! Exit Antigone. 
 
 Lover true 
 To your beloved, none the less, are you ! Exit. 
 
10 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Enter Theban Senators, as Chorus. 
 Chorus. 
 
 I. 1. 
 
 Sunbeam bright! Thou fairest ray 
 That ever dawned on Theban eyes 
 Over the portals seven! 
 O orb of aureate day, 
 
 How glorious didst thou rise 
 O'er Dirca's streams, shining from heaven, 
 Him, the man with shield of white. 
 Who came from Argos, in armour dight, 
 Hurrying runagate o'er the plain. 
 Jerking harder his bridle rein; 
 Who by Polynices' quarrellous prayer 
 Uproused, like an eagle stooping in air. 
 With a high shrill cry 
 Came hurling at our dominion, 
 All crested above with a horse's tail. 
 All covered in mail, 
 And clad with a snow-white pinion ! 
 
 Yawning with many a blood-stained spear 
 Around our sevenfold-gated town. 
 High o'er the roofs he stood; 
 Then, or ever n torch could sear 120 
 
 With flames the rampart-crown — ■ 
 Or ever his jaws were filled with blood 
 Of us and ours, lo, he was gone! 
 Such clamour of war came surging on, 
 Raised by the Dragon at his back; 
 Such was the stress of the foe's attack; 
 For Zeus abhors vainglorious boasts; 
 And straightway as he beheld their hosts, 
 Where on they rolled, covered with gold. 
 
 Streaming in mighty eddy, jga 
 
 Scornfully with a missile flame 
 He struck down Capaneus, as he came 
 Uplifting high his victory-cry 
 
 At the topmost goal already. 
 
ANTIGONE 
 
 II. I. 
 
 Tantalus-like aloft he hung, then fell; 
 
 Earth at his fall resounded; 
 Even as, maddened by the Bacchic spell. 
 On with torch in hand he bounded. 
 Breathing blasts of hate. 
 So the stroke was turned aside, 
 
 Mighty Ares thickly dealing 
 Others elsewhere, far and wide. 
 Like a right-hand courser wheeling 
 
 Round the goals of fate. 140 
 
 For captains seven at the portals seven 
 Found each his match in the combat even, 
 And left on the field both sword and shield 
 
 As a trophy to Zeus, who o'erthrew them; 
 Save the wretched twain, who against each other, 
 Though born of one father, and one mother. 
 Laid lances at aim^to their own death came. 
 
 And the common fate that slew them. 
 
 IL 2. 
 
 But now loud Victory has returned at last 
 
 On Theban chariots smiling. 
 Let us begin oblivion of the past, 150 
 
 Memories of late wars beguiling 
 Into slumber sound. 
 Seek we every holy shrine; 
 
 There begin the night-long chorus; 
 Let the Theban Boy divine, 
 Bacchus, lead the way before us. 
 Shaking all the ground. 
 
 Leave we the song: the King is here; 
 
 Creon, Menceceus' son, draws near; 
 
 To the function strange — like the heaven-sent change 
 
 Which has raised him newly to power: 
 What counsel urging — ^what ends of state. 
 That he summons us to deliberate. 
 The elders all, by his herald's call, ' 160 
 
 At a strange unwonted hour? 
 
12 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Enter Creon, attended. 
 
 Creon 
 
 Sirs, for the ship of state — the Gods once more, 
 
 After much rocking on a stormy surge, 
 
 Set her on even keel. Now therefore you. 
 
 You of all others, by my summoners 
 
 I bade come hither ; having seen you first 
 
 Paying due honour always to the throne 
 
 In Laius' time ; secondly while (Edipus 
 
 Ordered the commonwealth ; and since his fall. 
 
 With steadfast purposes abiding still. 
 
 Circling their progeny. Now, since they perished, 170 
 
 Both on one day, slain by a two-edged fate, 
 
 Striking and stricken, sullied with a stain 
 
 Of mutual fratricide, I, as you know. 
 
 In right of kindred nearest to the dead, 
 
 Possess the throne and take the supreme power. 
 
 Howbeit it is impossible to know 
 
 The spirit of any man, purpose or will. 
 
 Before it be displayed by exercise 
 
 In government and laws. To me, I say, 
 
 Now as of old, that pilot of the state 
 
 Who sets no hand to the best policy, 
 
 But remains tongue-tied through some terror, seems 180 
 
 Vilest of men. Him too, who sets a friend 
 
 Before his native land, I prize at nothing. 
 
 God, who seest all things always, witness it ! 
 
 If I perceive, where safety should have been. 
 
 Mischief advancing toward my citizens, 
 
 I will not sit in silence; nor account 
 
 As friend to me the country's enemy; 
 
 But thus I deem : she is our ark of safety ; 
 
 And friends are made then only, when, embarked 
 
 Upon her deck, we ride the seas upright. 190 
 
 Such are the laws by which I mean to further 
 
 This city's welfare; and akin to these 
 
 I have given orders to the citizens 
 
ANTIGONE 13 
 
 Touching the sons of CEdipus. Eteocles, 
 
 Who in this city's quarrel fought and fell, 
 
 The foremost of our champions in the fray, ''I 
 
 They should entomb with the full sanctity 
 
 Of rites that solemnize the downward road "'■■ 
 
 Of their dead greatest. Him the while, his brother, ! 
 
 That Polynices who, returning home 
 
 A banished man, sought to lay waste with fire 2 
 
 His household Gods, his native country — sought 
 
 To glut himself with his own kindred's blood, 
 
 Or carry them away to slavery. 
 
 It has been promulgated to the city 
 
 No man shall bury, none should wail for him ; 
 
 Unsepulchred, shamed in the eyes of men, 
 
 His body shall be left to be devoured 
 
 By dogs and fowls of the air. Such is my will. 
 
 Never with me shall wicked men usurp 
 
 The honours of the just ; but every one 
 
 Who is friendly to this city shall, by me, 
 
 Living or dead, be honoured equally. 2 
 
 I Senator 
 
 Creon Menceceus' son, we hear your pleasure 
 Both on this city's friend, and on her foe ; 
 It is your sovereignty's prerogative 
 To pass with absolute freedom on the dead. 
 And us, who have survived them. 
 
 Creon 
 
 Please to see, then. 
 What has been said performed. 
 
 I Senator 
 
 That charge confer 
 On some one who is younger. 
 
 Creon 
 
 Of the body? 
 Sentries are set, already. 
 
X 
 
 14 SOPHOCLES 
 
 I Senator 
 Then what else 
 Is there, besides, which you would lay on us? 
 
 Creon 
 Not to connive at disobedience. 
 
 I Senator 
 There's no such fool as to embrace his death. 220 
 
 Creon 
 
 Death is the penalty. But often men 
 
 Are brought to ruin, through their dreams of gain. 
 
 Enter a Sentinel. 
 Sentinel 
 
 My lord, I will not say — "breathless with speed 
 
 I come, plying a nimble foot;" for truly 
 
 I had a many sticking-points of thought, 
 
 Wheeling about to march upon my rear. 
 
 For my heart whispered me all sorts of counsel ; 
 
 " Poor wretch, why go, to meet thy punishment ? " — 
 
 " Wretch, wilt thou tarry ? And shall Creon hear the news 
 
 From others' lips? How shalt thou then not rue it?" 230 
 
 Out of this whirligig it came to pass 
 
 I hastened — at my leisure ; a short road. 
 
 Thus, becomes long. Nevertheless at last 
 
 It won the day to come hither, to your presence; 
 
 And speak I will, though nothing have to say; 
 
 For I come clinging to the hope that I 
 
 Can suffer nothing — save my destiny. 
 
 Creon 
 Well — and what caused you this disheartenment ? 
 
 Sentinel 
 First let me tell you what concerns myself 
 I do protest, I neither did the deed, 
 
ANTIGONE IS 
 
 Nor saw it done, whoever 'twas who did it ; 
 
 Nor should I rightly come to any harm. 240 
 
 Creon 
 
 At all events you are a good tactician, 
 
 And fence the matter off all round. But clearly 
 
 You have some strange thing to tell? 
 
 Sentinel 
 
 Yes. Serious tidings 
 Induce much hesitation. 
 
 Creon 
 
 Once for all 
 Please to speak out, and make an end, and go. 
 
 Sentinel 
 
 Why, I am telling you. That body some one 
 Has just now buried — sprinkled thirsty dust 
 Over the form — added the proper rites, 
 And has gone off. 
 
 , Creon 
 
 What say you? What man dared 
 To do it? 
 
 Sentinel 
 
 I know not. There was no dint there 
 Of any mattock, not a sod was turned; 250 
 
 Merely hard ground and bare, without a break. 
 Without a rut from wheels ; it was some workman 
 Who left no mark. When the first day-sentry 
 Shewed what had happened, we were all dismayed. 
 The body had vanished; not indeed interred, 
 But a light dust lay on it, as if poured out 
 By one who shunned the curse; and there appeared 
 No trace that a wild beast, or any hound, 
 Had come, or torn the carcase. Angry words 
 Were bandied up and down, guard blaming guard, 260 
 
i6 SOPHOCLES 
 
 And blows had like to end it, remediless; 
 
 For each in turn stood culprit, none convict, 
 
 But all pleaded "not guilty." We were ready 
 
 Even to take up hot iron in our hands. 
 
 Or pass through fire, calling the Gods to witness 
 
 We were not actors, nor accessory 
 
 To any man who compassed it, or did it. 
 
 And so at last, when all our search proved vain. 
 
 There speaks up one, who made us, every man, 
 
 Hang down our heads for fear, having no power 270 
 
 To say him nay, or save ourselves from harm — 
 
 His burden was, this business must be carried 
 
 To you, without reserve. That voice prevailed; 
 
 And me, poor wretch, the lot condemns to get 
 
 This piece of luck. I come a post unwilling, 
 
 I well believe it, to unwilling ears ; 
 
 None loveSthe messenger who brings bad news. 
 
 I Senator 
 
 My lord, my heart misgave me from the first 
 This must be something more than natural. 
 
 Creon 
 
 Truce to your speech, before my wrath brims over, 280 
 
 Lest you be found at once grey-beard and fool ! 
 
 To say that any guardian Providences 
 
 Cared for this corpse, is unendurable. 
 
 Was it by way of supereminent honour 
 
 For his good deeds, that they should give him burial. 
 
 Who came to burn their colonnades and shrines, 
 
 And waste their land and laws? Or do the Gods, 
 
 In your experience, honour the impious? 
 
 'Tis false. These orders from the first some people 
 
 Hardly accepted, murmuring at me, 290 
 
 Shaking their heads in secret, stiffening 
 
 Uneasy necks against this yoke of mine. 
 
 They have suborned these sentinels to do it, 
 
 I know that well. No such ill currency 
 
 Ever appeared, as money to mankind : 
 
ANTIGONE 
 
 17 
 
 This is it that sacks cities, this routs out 
 
 Men from their homes, and trains and turns astray 
 
 The minds of honest mortals, setting them 
 
 Upon base actions ; this made plain to men 
 
 Habits of all misdoing, and cognizance 300 
 
 Of every work of wickedness. Howbeit 
 
 Such hireling perpetrators, in the end. 
 
 Have wrought so far, that they shall suffer for it. 
 As sure as I still live to worship Jove, 
 
 Know this for truth ; I swear it in your ears ; 
 
 Except you find and bring before my face 
 
 The real actor in this funeral. 
 
 Death, by itself, shall not suffice for you. 
 
 Before, hung up alive, you have revealed 
 
 The secret of this outrage ; that henceforth 
 
 You may seek plunder — not without respect 310 
 
 Of where your profit lies ; and may be taught 
 
 It is not good to covet all men's pay; 
 
 For mark you ! by corruption few men thrive, 
 
 And many come to mischief. 
 
 Sentinel 
 
 Have I leave 
 To say a word, or shall I turn and go? 
 
 Creon 
 
 Cannot you see your prating tortures me? 
 
 Sentinel 
 
 Pricks you how deep? In the ears, or to the spleen? 
 
 Creon 
 
 \ATiy do you gauge my chafing, where it lies ? 
 
 Sentinel 
 Your heart-ache were the doer's, your ear-ache mine. 
 
 Creon 
 
 Out, what a bare-faced babbler born art thou ! 320 
 
 Y. A. 2 
 
i8 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Skntinel 
 Never the actor in this business, then ! 
 
 Creon 
 
 yes, for money you would sell your soul ! 
 
 Sentinel 
 
 Plague on it ! 'tis hard, a man should be suspicious, 
 And with a false suspicion ! 
 
 Creon 
 
 Yes, suspicion; 
 Mince it as best you may. Make me to know 
 Who has done this, or you shall soon allow 
 Left-handed gains work their own punishment. 
 
 Exit. 
 Sentinel 
 
 1 wish he may be found. Chance must decide. 
 Whether or no, you will not, certainly, 
 
 See me returning hither. Heaven be praised 356 
 
 I am in safety, past all thought or dream ! 
 
 Exit. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Much is there passing strange; 
 
 Nothing surpassing mankind. 
 He it is loves to range 
 Over the ocean hoar, 
 Thorough the surges' roar, 
 
 South winds raging behind ; 
 
 Earth, too, wears he away. 
 
 The Mother of Gods on high, 
 Tireless, free from decay ; 
 With team he furrows the ground, 
 And the ploughs go round and round, 
 
 As year upon year goes by. ,.^ 
 
ANTIGONE 19 
 
 I. j^. 
 
 The bird-tribes, light of mind, 
 
 The races of beasts of prey, 
 And sea-fish after their kind, 
 Man, abounding in wiles, 
 Entangles in his toils 
 
 And carries captive away. 
 
 The roamers over the hill. 
 
 The field-inhabiting deer. 
 By craft he conquers, at will ; 
 He bends beneath his yoke 
 The neck of the steed unbroke, 350 
 
 And pride of the upland steer. 
 
 II. I. 
 
 He has gotten him speech, and fancy breeze-betost. 
 
 And for the state instinct of order meet ; 
 He has found him shelter from the chilling frost 
 
 Of a clear sky, and from the arrowy sleet ; 
 Illimitable in cunning, cunning-less 360 
 
 He meets no change of fortune that can come ; 
 He has found escape from pain and helplessness ; 
 
 Only he knows no refuge from the tomb. 
 
 II. 2. 
 
 Now bends he to the good, now to the ill. 
 
 With craft of art, subtle past reach of sight ; 
 Wresting his country's laws to his own will, 
 
 Spuming the sanctions of celestial right; 
 High in the city, he is made city-less, 370 
 
 Whoso is corrupt, for his impiety; 
 He that will work the works of wickedness, 
 
 Let him not house, let him not hold, with me ! 
 
 At this monstrous vision I stand in ^ 
 
 Doubt ! How dare I say, well' knowing her^j 
 That this maid is not — Antigone ! 1 
 
 Daughter of CEdipus ! ; 
 
 Hapless child, of a hapless father I 380 
 
 Sure— ah surely they did not find thee 
 Madly def3ring our king's commandments, 
 And so prisoner bring thee here? 
 
SOPHOCLES 
 
 Enter Sentinel with Antigone. 
 
 Sentinel 
 
 This is the woman who has done the deed. 
 We took her burying him. Where's Creon? 
 
 I Senator 
 
 Here 
 Comes he again, out of the house, at need. 
 
 Enter Creon. 
 
 Creon 
 What is it? In what due season come I forth? 
 
 Sentinel 
 
 My lord, I see a man should never vow 
 
 He will not do a thing, for second thoughts 
 
 Bely the purpose. Truly I would have sworn 390 
 
 It should go hard with me before I came 
 
 Hither, in prospect of your menaces, 
 
 By fury of which I was encountered then. 
 
 But since an unforeseen happy surprise 
 
 Passes all other pleasing out of measure, 
 
 I come, though I forswore it mightily. 
 
 Bringing this maiden, who was found in act 
 
 To set that bier in order. Here, my lord. 
 
 No lot was cast; this windfall is to me. 
 
 And to no other. Take her, now, yourself; 
 
 Examine and convict her, as you please; 
 
 I wash my hands of it, and ought, of right, 
 
 To be clean quit of the scrape, for good and all. 400 
 
 Creon 
 You have seized — and bring — her ! In what way, and whence? 
 
 Sentinel 
 Burying that man, herself! You know the whole. 
 
ANTIGONE 
 
 Creon 
 
 Are you in earnest? Do you understand 
 What you are saying? 
 
 Sentinel 
 
 Yes, that I saw this girl 
 Burying that body you forbade to bury. 
 Do I speak clear and plain? 
 
 Creon 
 
 How might this be, 
 That she was seen, and taken in the act ? 
 
 Sentinel 
 
 Why thus it happened. When we reached the place, 
 
 Wrought on by those dread menacings from you, 
 
 We swept away all dust that covered up 
 
 The body, and laid the clammy limbs quite bare, 410 
 
 And windward from the summit of the hill. 
 
 Out of the tainted air that spread from him, 
 
 We sat us down, each, as it might be, rousing 
 
 His neighbour with a clamour of abuse, 
 
 Wakening him up, whenever any one 
 
 Seemed to be slack in watching. This went on, 
 
 Till in mid sky the luminous orb of day 
 
 Stood, and the heat grew sultry. Suddenly 
 
 A violent eddy lifted from the ground 
 
 A hurricane, a trouble of the sky; 
 
 RufHing all foliage of the woodland plain 
 
 It filled the horizon; the vast atmosphere 420 
 
 Thickened within it; we, closing our eyes, 
 
 Endured the Heaven-sent plague. After a while, 
 
 When it had ceased, there stands this maiden in sight. 
 
 And wails aloud, shrill as the bitter note 
 
 Of the sad bird, when as she finds the couch 
 
 Of her void nest robbed of her young ; so she, 
 
 Soon as she sees the body stripped and bare. 
 
 Bursts out in shrieks, and calls down curses dire 
 
22 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Upon their heads who had done it. Straightway then 
 
 She gathers handfuls of dry dust, and brings them, 
 
 And from a shapely brazen cruse held high 43° 
 
 She crowns the body with drink-offerings, 
 
 Once, twice, and thrice. We at the sight rushed forth. 
 
 And caught her, nothing daunted, on the spot ; 
 
 And taxed her with the past offence, and this 
 
 The present. Not one whit did she deny; 
 
 A pleasant though a pitiful sight, to me ; 
 
 For nothing's sweeter than to have got off 
 
 In person ; but to bring into mischance 
 
 One's friends is pitiful. And yet to pay 
 
 No more than this is cheap, to save one's life. 440 
 
 Creon 
 
 Do you, I say — you, with your downcast brow — 
 Own or deny that you have done this deed? 
 
 Antigone 
 I say I did it; I deny it not. 
 
 Creon 
 
 Take yourself hence, whither you will, sir knave ; 
 You are acquitted of a heavy charge. 
 
 Exit Sentinel. 
 Now answer me concisely, not at length ; 
 Knew you the order not to do it? 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Yes, 
 I knew it; what should hinder? It was plain. 
 
 Creon 
 And yet you dared to overstep my laws? 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Because it was not Zeus who ordered it, 450 
 
 Nor Justice, dweller with the Nether Gods, 
 
ANTIGONE 
 
 n 
 
 loath 
 
 I Senator 
 
 Lo you, the spirit stout 
 Of her stout father's child — unapt to bend 
 Beneath misfortune ! 
 
 Creon 
 
 But be well assured, 
 Tempers too stubborn are the first to fall ; 
 The hardest iron from the furnace, forged 
 To stiffness, you may see most frequently 
 Shivered and broken; and the chafing steeds 
 I have known governed with a slender curb. 
 It is unseemly that a household drudge 
 Should be misproud; but she was conversant 
 With outrage, ever since she passed the bounds 
 Laid down by law ; then hard upon that deed 
 Comes this, the second outrage, to exult 
 
 460 
 
 Who gave such laws to men; nor did I deem 
 Your ordinance of so much binding force, 
 As that a mortal man should overbear 
 The unchangeable unwritten code of Heaven ; 
 This is not of today and yesterday, 
 But lives for ever, having origin 
 Whence no man knows : whose sanctions I we 
 In God's sight to provoke, fearing the will 
 Of any man. I knew that I should die — 
 How otherwise? even although your voice 
 Had never so prescribed. And that I die 
 Before my hour is due, that I count gain. 
 For one who lives in many ills, as I — 
 How can she fail to gain by dying? So 
 To me it is no pain, to meet this fate; 
 But had I borne to leave the body of him 
 My mother bare unburied, then, indeed, 
 I might feel pain ; but as it is, I cannot. 
 Now, if it seem to you that I commit 
 Folly — 'tis like that I am found a fool 
 At a fool's mouth ! 
 
 470 
 
 480 
 
24 SOPHOCLES 
 
 And triumph in her deed. Truly if here 
 
 She wield such powers uncensured, she is man, 
 
 I woman ! Be she of my sister born, 
 
 Or nearer to myself than the whole band 
 
 Of our domestic tutelary Jove, 
 
 She, and the sister — for her equally 
 
 I charge with compassing this funeral — 490 
 
 Shall not escape a most tremendous doom. 
 
 And call her ; for within the house but now 
 
 I saw her, frenzied and beside herself; 
 
 And it is common for a moody spirit, 
 
 That in the dark is plotting nothing good, 
 
 To get itself arrested for a knave 
 
 Before the deed is acted. None the less 
 
 I hate it, when one taken in a fault 
 
 Chooses to gloss the facts ! 
 
 Antigone 
 
 What would you, more 
 Than take my life? 
 
 Creon 
 
 Nothing; take that, take all. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Then why delay? As of your words to me 
 
 Nothing is pleasing, or, I trust, can be, 500 
 
 So mine are insupportable to you. 
 
 And yet from whence could I have gathered praise 
 
 More worthily, than from depositing 
 
 My own brother in a tomb ? These, all of them. 
 
 Would utter one approval, did not fear 
 
 Seal up their lips. 'Tis tyranny's privilege. 
 
 And not the least — power to declare and do 
 
 What it is minded. 
 
 Creon 
 
 You, of all this people. 
 Are singular in your discernment. 
 
ANTIGONE 25 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Nay, _ 
 They all discern; they but refrain their tongues 
 At your behest. 
 
 Creon 
 
 And you deem otherwise, 510 
 
 And feel no shame? 
 
 Antigone 
 
 It is no cause for shame, 
 Honouring the flesh and blood that is one's own. 
 
 Creon 
 
 And his dead foeman, was not he your brother 
 As well? 
 
 Antigone 
 Yes, the same sire's and mother's son. 
 
 Creon 
 Why pay, then, honours which are wrongs to him? 
 
 Antigone 
 The dead clay makes no protest. 
 
 Creon 
 
 Not although 
 His with a villain's share your reverence? 
 
 Antigone 
 It was a brother perished, not a slave. 
 
 Creon 
 
 Spoiling, I say, this country; while his rival 
 Stood for it. 
 
 Antigone 
 Yet the Grave invokes these laws 
 For all alike. 
 
26 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Creon 
 
 But not an equal measure 520 
 
 Both for the good man and the bad. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Who knows 
 This is not piety there? 
 
 Creon 
 
 The enemy 
 Can never be a friend, even though dead. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Well, I was born for fellowship in love, 
 Not fellowship in hate. 
 
 Creon 
 
 Then get you down 
 Thither, and love, if you must love, the dead ! 
 No woman, while I live, shall order me. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 See where out by the doors Ismene 
 Weeping drops of sisterly grieving 
 Comes ; but a cloud o'erhanging her eyebrows 
 Mars her dark-flushed cheek, and moistens 
 
 Her fair face with pitiful tears. 530 
 
 Enter Attendants with Ismene. 
 
 Creon 
 
 And you — who like a viper unawares 
 
 Have crept into my house, and sucked me bloodless, 
 
 While I unknowingly was fostering you, 
 
 Twin furies, to the upsetting of my throne — 
 
 Come, tell me, will you say you also shared 
 
 This burying, or protest your innocence? 
 
ANTIGONE 27 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 Yes, I have done it — if Antigone 
 
 Says so — I join with her and share the blame. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 That justice will not suffer; you refused, 
 And I — I had no partner. 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 In your troubles 540 
 
 I do not blush to claim companionship 
 Of what you have to endure. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Whose was the deed 
 Death and the spirits of the dead can tell ! 
 A friend in words is not a friend for me. 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 Shame me not, sister, by refusing me 
 
 A death, for honouring the dead, with you ! 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Mix not your death with mine. Do not claim work 
 You never touched. I shall suffice to die. 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 And what care I for life, if I lost you? 
 
 Antigone 
 Ask Creon; you are dutiful to him. 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 Why do you cross me so, to no good end? 550 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Nay, I am sick at heart, if I do make 
 My mock at you. 
 
28 SOPHOCLES 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 Nay but what can I do, 
 Now, even yet, to help you ? 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Save yourself; 
 I do not grudge you your deliverance. 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 O me unhappy ! And must I miss your fate ? 
 
 Antigone 
 Why, life was your own choice; but death was mine. 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 Not if you count my words unspoken. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Here 
 Your judgment was approved; but mine, elsewhere. 
 
 Ismene 
 Then our delinquency is equal, too. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Take courage, you are living; but my life 
 
 Long since has died, so I might aid the dead. 560 
 
 Creon 
 
 Of these two girls I swear the one even now 
 Has been proved witless ; the other was so born. 
 
 Ismene 
 
 Ah sir, the wretched cannot keep the wit 
 That they were born with, but it flits away. 
 
ANTIGONE 29 
 
 Creon 
 
 Yours did so, when you chose to join ill-doers 
 In their ill-faring. 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 How could I live on 
 Alone, without my sister? 
 
 Creon 
 
 Do not say 
 " My sister " ; for you have no sister more. 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 What, will you put to death your own son's bride ? 
 
 Creon 
 He may go further afield — 
 
 Ismene 
 
 Not as by troth 570 
 
 Plighted to her by him. 
 
 Creon 
 
 Unworthy wives 
 For sons of mine I hate. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 O dearest Haemon, 
 How are you slighted by your father ! 
 
 Creon 
 
 I 
 Am weary of your marriage, and of you. 
 
 Ismene 
 Your own son ! will you tear her from his arms ? 
 
 Creon 
 Hades it was, that should prevent that wedding. 
 
30 SOPHOCLES 
 
 I Senator 
 
 I see, the sentence of this maiden's death 
 Has been determined. 
 
 Creon 
 
 Then we see the same. 
 An end of trifling. Slaves, there, take them in ! 
 As women, henceforth, must they Uve — not suffered 
 To gad abroad; for even bold men flinch, 580 
 
 When they view Death hard by the verge of Life. 
 
 Exeunt Antigone and Ismene, guarded. 
 
 Chorus. 
 I. I. 
 
 Happy the man whose cup of life is free 
 
 From taste of evil! If Heaven's influence shake them, 
 No ill but follows, till it overtake them, 
 All generations of his family ; 
 
 As when the ocean's waves up-welling 
 Course above their cavernous dwelling 
 
 Hid beneath the water-floor, 
 Hurried by the sea-borne sway 
 Of Threician breezes they 
 Roll up from the regions under, 5go 
 
 Black and dark, the leeward shore, 
 And the beaten beaches thunder 
 Answer to the roar. 
 
 Woes upon woes on Labdacus' race I see — 
 Living or dead — inveterately descend ; 
 And son with sire entangled, without end, 
 And by some God smitten without remedy ; 
 For a light of late had spread 
 O'er the last surviving root 
 In the house of CEdipus ; 
 Now, the sickle murderous 
 Of the Rulers of the dead, goo 
 
 And wild words beyond control, 
 And the frenzy of her own soul. 
 Again mow down the shoot. 
 
ANTIGONE 31 
 
 II. 1. 
 Thy power, O God, what pride of man can stay, 
 Which neither slumber, father of decay, 
 Nor even the tireless moons of Heaven destroy? 
 
 Thy throne is founded fast. 
 High on Olympus, in great brilliancy, 610 
 
 Far beyond Time's annoy. 
 Through present and through future and through past 
 Sufficeth one decree ; 
 Ruin is rife 
 In every land, in every lot of life. 
 
 II. 2. 
 For wandering Hope to many among mankind 
 Seems pleasurable; but to many a mind 
 Proves but a mockery of its wild desires. 
 
 They know not aught, nor fear, 
 Till their feet feel the pathway strewn with fires. 620 
 
 " If evil good appear, 
 That soul to his ruin is divinely led" — 
 (Wisely the word was said !) 
 And short the hour 
 He spends unscathed by the avenging power. 
 
 Haemon comes, thy last surviving 
 Child. Is he here to bewail, indignant, 
 His lost bride, Antigone? Grieves he 
 
 For a vain promise — her marriage-bed? 630 
 
 Enter H^mon. 
 Creon 
 
 We shall know soon, better than seers can tell us. 
 Son, you are here in anger, are you not. 
 Against your sire, hearing his final doom 
 Upon your bridb to be? Or are we friends. 
 Always, with yovl, whate'er our policy? 
 
 HiEMON 
 
 Yours am I, father; and you guide my steps 
 With your good counsels, which for my part I 
 Will follow closely; for there is no marriage 
 Shall occupy a larger place with me 
 Than your direction, in the path of honour. 
 
32 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Creon 
 
 So is it right, my son, to be disposed — 
 
 In everything to back your father's quarrel. 640 
 
 For 'tis for this men pray to get and rear 
 
 At home obedient children — to requite 
 
 The foe with evil, and their father's friend 
 
 Honour, as did their father. But for this, 
 
 Whoever breeds a worthless progeny — 
 
 What other language would you hold of him, 
 
 But that he fathered troubles for himself, 
 
 And store of laughter for his enemies? 
 
 Nay, never fling away your wits, my son, 
 
 Through liking for a woman ; recollect. 
 
 Cold are embracings, where the wife is naught, 650 
 
 Who shares your board and bed. And what worse sore 
 
 Can plague us, than a loved one's worthlessness ? 
 
 Better to spurn this maiden as a foe ! 
 
 Leave her to wed some bridegroom in the grave ! 
 
 For, having caught her in the act, alone 
 
 Of the whole city disobeying me, 
 
 I'll not bely myself before them all, 
 
 But kill her. Now let her go glorify 
 
 Her God of kindred ! If I choose to cherish 
 
 My own relations in rebelliousness, 
 
 Then verily I must count on strangers too. 660 
 
 For whosoever is a man of merit 
 
 In his own household will be found upright 
 
 In the state also ; while whoe'er offends 
 
 Against the laws by violence, or by pride 
 
 That dictates to his rulers — I deny 
 
 Favour to such. Obedience is due 
 
 To the state's officer in small and great. 
 
 Just and unjust commandments; he who pays it, 
 
 I should be confident would govern well. 
 
 And cheerfully be governed, and abide 
 
 A true and trusty comrade at my back, 
 
 Firm in the ranks amid the storm of war. 670 
 
 There lives no greater fiend than Anarchy; 
 
ANTIGONE 33 
 
 She ruins states, turns houses out of doors, 
 
 Breaks up in rout the embattled soldiery; 
 
 While Discipline preserves the multitudes 
 
 Of the ordered host alive. Therefore it is 
 
 We must assist the cause of order; this 
 
 Forbids concession to a feminine will; 
 
 Better be outcast, if we must, of men. 
 
 Than have it said a woman worsted us. 680 
 
 I Senator 
 
 Unless old age have robbed me of myself, 
 I think the tenor of your words is wise. 
 
 HiEMON 
 
 The Gods, my father, in mankind implant 
 
 Intelligence, of all good things the highest; 
 
 And yet to say that you speak wrongly in this 
 
 I lack the power ; nor do I covet it. 
 
 Still, in some other it might be well, to say it; 
 
 And as your son, it is for me to mark 
 
 The words and deeds, and the complaints, of all. 
 
 Your frown appals him, when a common man 690 
 
 Has things to say that will offend your ears; 
 
 While I am able secretly to gather 
 
 This; how the folk mourn for this maiden; telling 
 
 How — " Of all women most unmeriting, she 
 
 For noblest acts dies by the worst of deaths. 
 
 Who her own brother battle slain — unburied — ■ 
 
 Would not allow to perish in the fangs 
 
 Of carrion hounds or any bird of prey ; 
 
 And" (so the whisper darkling passes round) 
 
 "Is she not worthy to be carved in gold?" 700 
 
 Father, beside your welfare there is nothing 
 
 More prized by me; for what more glorious crown 
 
 Can be to children, than their father's honour? 
 
 Or to a father, from his sons, than theirs? 
 
 Do not persist, then, to retain at heart 
 
 One sole idea, that the thing is right 
 
 y. A. 3 
 
34 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Which you pronounce, and nothing else beside. 
 
 For all men who believe themselves alone 
 
 Wise, or that they possess a soul or speech 
 
 Such as none other, turn them inside out, 
 
 They are found void; and though a man be wise, 710 
 
 It is no shame for him to live and learn, 
 
 And not to persevere too far. You see 
 
 How all the trees on winter torrent banks. 
 
 Yielding, preserve their sprays; those that would stem it 
 
 Break, roots and all; the shipman too, who keeps 
 
 The vessel's main sheet taut, and will not slacken, 
 
 Goes cruising, in the end, keel uppermost : 
 
 Let thy wrath go ! Be willing to relent ! 
 
 For if some sense, even from a younger head. 
 
 Be mine to afford, I say it is far better 720 
 
 A man should be, for every accident, 
 
 Furnished with inbred skill ; but what of that ? 
 
 Since nature's bent will have it otherwise, 
 
 'Tis good to learn of those who counsel wisely. 
 
 I Senator 
 
 Sir, you might learn, when he speaks seasonably ; 
 And you, from him ; for both have spoken well. 
 
 Creon 
 
 Men that we are, must we be sent to school 
 To learn discretion of a boy like this? 
 
 H^MON 
 
 None that's dishonest ; and if I am young, 
 Age is not to be looked at before actions. 
 
 Creon 
 And "action" is — to shew respect to rebels! 730 
 
 H^MON 
 
 Not piety, to wrongdoers, at my bidding. 
 
 Creon 
 Was it not some such taint infected her? 
 
ANTIGONE 35 
 
 H^MON 
 
 So say not all this populace of Thebes. 
 
 Creon 
 The city to prescribe me my decrees ! 
 
 H/EMON 
 
 Look, say you so, you are too young in this ! 
 
 Creon 
 Must I reign here to others' minds than mine? 
 
 HiEMON 
 
 No city can consist of but one man. 
 
 Creon 
 Is not the King the city? 
 
 H^MON 
 
 That were brave — 
 You, a sole ruler of an empty land ! 
 
 Creon 
 This is the woman's champion, as it seems ! 740 
 
 HjEmon 
 Woman yourself! It is for you I care. 
 
 CJreon 
 O villain — traversing thy father's rights ! 
 
 HiEMON 
 
 Because I see you sinning against right. 
 
 Creon 
 Sin I, to cause my, sway to be held sacred ? 
 
 H^.M0N 
 
 You desecrate, by trampling on Heaven's honour. 
 
 3—2 
 
36 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Creon 
 Foul spotted heart — a woman's underling ! 
 
 HiEMON 
 
 You will not find me. following the vile. 
 
 Creon 
 I say this speech of thine was all for her. 
 
 HjEmon 
 And you, and me, and for the Gods beneath ! 
 
 Creon 
 Never shall she survive to marry thee ! 750 
 
 HiEMON 
 
 Die as she may, she shall not die alone. 
 
 Creon 
 Art thou grown bold enough to threaten, too ? 
 
 Hi«MON 
 
 Where is the threat, to speak against vain counsel? 
 
 Creon 
 Vain boy, thyself shalt rue thy counselling. 
 
 HiEMON 
 
 I had called you erring, were you not my sire. 
 
 Creon 
 Thou woman's bondman, do not spaniel me ! 
 
 HiEMON 
 
 Do you expect to speak, and not be answered? 
 
 Creon 
 Do I so? By Olympus over us. 
 If thou revile me, and find fault with me, 
 
ANTIGONE 37 
 
 Never believe but it shall cost thee dear ! 
 
 Bring out the wretch, that in men's sight, at once, /760 
 
 Here, with her bridegroom by her, she may die ! ' 
 
 HiEMON 
 
 Not in my sight, at least — not by my side, 
 
 Believe it, shall she -perish ! And for thee^-r~~ 
 
 Storm at the friends who choose thy companV ! 
 
 My face thou never shall behold again. Exit. 
 
 I Senator 
 
 The man is gone, my lord, headlong with rage; 
 And wits so young, when galled, are full of danger. 
 
 Creon 
 
 Let be, let him imagine more, or do, 
 Than mortal may; yet he shall not redeem 
 From sentence those two maidens. 
 
 I Senator 
 
 Both of them ? 
 Is it your will to slay them both ahke? 770 
 
 Creon 
 That is well said ; not her who did not touch it. 
 
 I Senator 
 
 And by what death mean you to kill the other? 
 
 Creon 
 
 Into some waste untrodden of mankind 
 
 She shall be drawn, and, in some rock-hewn cave. 
 
 With only food enough provided her 
 
 For expiation, so that all the city 
 
 Escape the guilt of blood, buried alive. 
 
 There, if she ask him, Hades, th| one God 
 
 Whom she regards, may grant her not to perish ; 
 
 Or there, at latest, she shall recognize 
 
 It is lost labour to revere the dead. Exit. 780 
 
38 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 O Love, thou art victor in fight : thou mak'st all things afraid ; 
 
 Thou couchest thee softly at night on the cheeks of a maid ; 
 
 Thou passest the bounds of the sea, and the folds of the fields ; 
 
 To thee the immortal, to thee the ephemeral yields; 
 
 Thou maddenest them that possess thee; thou turnest astray 790 
 
 The souls of the just, to oppress them, out of the way; 
 
 Thou hast kindled amongst us pride, and the quarrel of kin; 
 
 Thou art lord, by the eyes of a bride, and the love-light therein; 
 
 Thou sittest assessor with Right; her kingdom is thine, 
 
 Who sports with invincible might, Aphrodita divine. 800 
 
 Enter Antigone, guarded. 
 
 I too, myself, am carried as I look 
 
 Beyond the bounds of right; 
 
 Nor can I brook 
 
 The springing fountain of my tears, to see 
 
 My child, Antigone, 
 
 Pass to the chamber of universal night. 
 
 I. I. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Behold me, people of my native land: 
 
 I wend my latest way: 
 I gaze upon the latest light of day 
 
 That I shall ever see; 
 Death, who lays all to rest, is leading me 810 
 
 To Acheron's far strand 
 Alive; to me no bridal hymns belong. 
 
 For me no marriage song 
 Has yet been sung; but Acheron instead 
 
 Is it, whom I must wed. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Nay but with praise and voicings of renown 
 
 Thou partest for that prison-house of the dead ; 
 
 Unsmitten by diseases that consume. 
 
 By sword unvisited, 820 
 
 Thou only of mortals freely shalt go down, 
 
 Alive, to the tomb. 
 
ANTIGONE 39 
 
 Antigone 
 
 I have heard tell the sorrowful end of her, « 
 
 That Phrygian sojourner 
 On Sipylus' peak, offspring of Tantalus; 
 
 How stony shoots upgrown 
 Like ivy bands enclosed her in the stone; 
 
 With snows continuous 830 
 
 And ceaseless rain her body melts away; 
 
 Streams from her tear-flown head 
 Water her front ; likest to hers the bed 
 
 My fate prepares today. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 She was of godlike nature, goddess-sprung, 
 
 And we are mortals, and of human race ; 
 
 And it were glorious odds 
 
 For maiden slain, among 
 
 The equals of the Gods 
 
 In life — and then in death — to gain a place. 
 
 II. I. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 They mock me. Gods of Thebes ! why scorn you me 
 Thus, to my face. 
 
 Alive, not death-stricken yet? 840 
 
 O city, and you the city's affluent race 
 Of habitants — ye streams from Dirca's source — 
 Ye woods that shadow Theba's chariot- course, 
 Listen and see. 
 
 Let none of you forget. 
 How sacrificed, and for what laws offended, 
 By no tears friended, 
 
 I to the prisoning mound 
 Of a strange grave am journeying under ground 
 Ah me unhappy! home is none for me; 850 
 
 Alike in life or death an exile must I be. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Thou to the farthest verge forth-faring, 
 
 O my child, of daring, 
 
 Against the lofty threshold of the laws 
 
 Didst stumble and fall. The cause 
 
 Is some ancestral load, which thou art bearing. 
 
4° SOPHOCLES 
 
 II. 2. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 There didst thou touch upon my bitterest bale — 
 A threefold tale — 
 
 My father's piteous doom, 
 . Yea and all ours, the stock illustrious yet 860 
 
 Of Labdacus' house. O horrors that beset 
 My mother's bed ! O spouse from her own womb 
 Untimely born ! 
 
 O wedlock of my sire ! 
 O ye from whom I drew my life forlorn. 
 Towards you, unblest, 
 
 Unwedded — lo, a guest 
 Exiled from life, I journey ever nigher ! 
 And thou too, ruined, my brother, in a wife, 870 
 
 Didst by thy death bring death upon thy sister's life ! 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 To pay due reverence is a duty, too ; 
 
 And power — his power, whose empire is confest. 
 
 May no-wise be transgressed ; 
 
 But thee thine own infatuate mood o'er-threw. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Friendless, unwept, unwed, 
 I, sick at heart, am led 
 The way prepared for me ; 
 
 Day's hallowed orb on high 
 I may no longer see ; 880 
 
 For me no tears are spent, 
 Nor any friends lament 
 The death I die. 
 
 Enter Creon. 
 
 Creon 
 
 Think you that any one, if space were given, 
 Before he died, for waihng and lament, 
 Would ever make an end ? Away with her ! 
 Wall her up close in some deep catacomb, 
 As I have said ; leave her, alone, apart, 
 To perish, if she will; or if she live. 
 
ANTIGONE 41 
 
 To make her tomb her tenement. For us, 
 
 We will be guiltless of this maiden's blood; 
 
 But here on earth she shall abide no more. 890 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Thou Grave, my bridal chamber ! dwelling-place 
 
 Hollowed in earth, my everlasting prison, 
 
 Whither I bend my steps, to join the band 
 
 Of kindred, whose more numerous host already 
 
 Persephone hath counted with the dead ; 
 
 Of whom I last and far most miserably 
 
 Descend, before my term of life is full ; 
 
 I come, cherishing this hope especially, 
 
 To gain approval in my father's sight, 
 
 Approval too, my mother, in thine, and thine 
 
 Dear brother ! for that with these hands I paid, 900 
 
 Unto you dead, lavement and ordering 
 
 And sepulchre-libations ; and that now, 
 
 Polynices, in the tendance of thy body 
 
 I meet with this reward. Yet to the wise 
 
 It was well done, that I did honour thee. 
 
 For never had I, even had I been 
 
 Mother of children, or if spouse of mine ,■ 
 
 Lay dead and mouldering, in the state's despite \ 
 
 Taken this task upon me. Do you ask \ 
 
 What argument I follow here of law? \ 
 
 One husband dead, another might be mine; 
 
 Sons by another, did I lose the first; 91° 
 
 But, sire and mother hidden in the grave, 
 
 A brother is a branch that grows no more. 
 
 Yet I, preferring by this argument 
 
 To honour thee to the end, in Creon's sight 
 
 Appeared to sin in that I did so, and 
 
 Commit an insolent trespass, O my brother ! 
 
 And for this cause he hath bid lay hands on me, 
 
 And leads me, not as wives or brides are led, 
 
 Unblest. with any marriage, any care 
 
 Of children ; destitute of friends, forlorn. 
 
42 SdPHOCLES 
 
 Yet living, to the chambers of the dead 920 
 
 See me descend. Yet what celestial right 
 
 Did I transgress? How should I any more 
 
 Look up to heaven, in my adversity? 
 
 Whom should I call to aid? Am I not come 
 
 Through piety to be held impious? If 
 
 This is approved in Heaven, why let me suffer. 
 
 And own that I have sinned ; but if the sin 
 
 Belong to these — O may their punishment 
 
 Be measured by the wrongfulness of mine ! 
 
 I Senator 
 
 Still the same storms possess her, with the same 
 Precipitance of spirit. 930 
 
 Creon 
 
 Then for this 
 Her guards shall rue their slowness. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 . / 
 
 Woe for me . 
 The word T hear comes hand in hand with death ! 
 
 1 Senator 
 
 / may not say Be comforted, for this 
 Shall not be so ; I have no words of cheer. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 O City of Theba I O my country ! Gods, 
 
 The Fathers of my race ! I am led hence — 
 
 / linger now no more. Behold me, lords, 940 
 
 The last of your kings' house — what doom is mine. 
 
 And at whose hands, and for what cause I that I 
 
 Duly performed the dues of piety ! 
 
 Exeunt Antigone and guards. 
 
ANTIGONE 43 
 
 Chorus 
 I. 1. 
 
 For a dungeon brazen-barred 
 The body of Danae endured 
 
 To exchange Heaven's daylight of old, 
 In a tomb-like chamber immured, 
 Hid beneath fetter and guard ; 
 
 And she was born, we are told, 
 O child, my child, unto honour, 
 And a son was begotten upon her 
 
 To Zeus in a shower of gold. 950 
 
 But the stress of a Fate is hard ; 
 Nor wealth, nor warfare, nor ward, 
 Nor black ships cleaving the sea 
 Can resist her, or flee. 
 
 I. 2. 
 
 And the Thracians' king, Dryas' son, 
 The hasty of wrath, was bound 
 
 For his words of mocking and pride ; 
 Dionysus closing him round, 
 Pent in a prison of stone ; 
 
 Till, his madness casting aside 
 Its flower and fury wild, 960 
 
 He knew what God he reviled — 
 Whose power he had defied ; 
 Restraining the Msenad choir, 
 Quenching the Evian fire, 
 Enraging the Muses' throng. 
 The lovers of song. 
 
 II. L. 
 
 And by the double main 
 Of seas Cyanean — there 
 Lies the Bosporean strand, 
 And the lone Thracian plain 
 Of Salmydessus, where 
 
 Is Ares' border-land ; 97° 
 
 Who saw the stab of pain 
 Dealt on the Phineid pair 
 
 At that fierce dame's command ; 
 Blinding the orbits of their blasted "sight, 
 Smitten, without spear to smite. 
 By a spindle's point made bare. 
 And by a bloody hand. 
 
44 SOPHOCLES 
 
 II. 1. 
 
 They mourned their mother dead, 
 Their hearts with anguish wrung, 
 Wasting away, poor seed 
 Of her deserted bed ; 980 
 
 Who, Boreas' daughter, sprung 
 From the old Erechtheid breed, 
 In remote caverns fed 
 Her native gales among. 
 Went swiftly as the steed. 
 Offspring of Heaven, over the steep-down wild ; 
 Yet to her too, my child, 
 The Destinies, that lead 
 Lives of long ages, clung. 
 
 Enter Tiresias led by a Boy. 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 Princes of Thebes, two fellow-travellers, 
 
 Debtors in common to the eyes of one. 
 
 We stand before you ; for a blind man's path 
 
 Hangs on the guide who marshals him the way. 990 
 
 Creon 
 What would'st thou now, reverend Tiresias? 
 
 Tiresias 
 That will I tell. Do thou obey the seer. 
 
 Creon 
 
 I never have departed hitherto 
 From thy advice. 
 
 Tiresias 
 
 And therefore 'tis, thou steerest 
 The city's course straight forward. 
 
 Creon. 
 
 Thou hast done me 
 Good service, I can witness. 
 
ANTIGONE 45 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 Now again 
 Tliink, thou dost walk on fortune's razor-edge. 
 
 Creon 
 What is it? I tremble but to see thee speak. 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 Listen to what my art foreshadoweth, 
 
 And thou shalt know. I lately, taking seat 
 
 On my accustomed bench of augury, 
 
 Whither all tribes of fowl after their kind ioo( 
 
 Alway resort, heard a strange noise of birds 
 
 Screaming with harsh and dissonant impetus ; 
 
 And was aware how each the other tore 
 
 With murderous talons ; for the whirr of wings 
 
 Rose manifest. Then feared I, and straight made trial 
 
 Of sacrifices on the altar-hearths 
 
 All blazing; but, out of the offering.s, 
 
 There sprang no flame; only upon embers charred 
 
 Thick droppings melted off the thigh-pieces, 
 
 And heaved and sputtered, and the gall-bladders 
 
 Burst, and were lost, while from the folds of fat iok 
 
 The loosened thigh-bones fell. Such auguries. 
 
 Failing of presage through the unmeaningness 
 
 Of holy rites, I gather from this lad, 
 
 Who is to me, as I to others, guide. 
 
 And this state-sickness comes by thy self-will; 
 
 For all our hearths and altars are defiled 
 
 With prey of dogs and fowl, who have devoured 
 
 The dead unhappy son of CEdipus. 
 
 Therefore the Gods accept not of us now 
 
 Solemn peace-offering or burnt sacrifice, 102c 
 
 Nor bird trills out a happy-boding note. 
 
 Full fed with homicidal blood-shedding. 
 
 This, then, my son, consider; that to err 
 
 From the right path is common to mankind ; 
 
46 SOPHOCLES 
 
 But having erred, that mortal is no more 
 
 Losel or fool, who medicines the ill 
 
 He has incurred, and stands not obstinate. 
 
 Conceit of will savours of emptiness. 
 
 Give way, then, in the presence of the dead. 
 
 Wound not the life that's perished. Where's thy valour 1030 
 
 In slaying o'er the slain ? Well I advise, 
 \ Meaning thee well; 'tis pleasantest to learn 
 \ Of good advisers, when their words bring gain. 
 
 Creon 
 
 Old man, ye all, like archers at a mark. 
 
 Discharge your shafts at me ; I am not spared 
 
 Even your soothsayers' practice ; by whose tribe 
 
 Long since have I been made merchandize of, 
 
 And bought, and sold. Gather your gains at will ! 
 
 Market your Sardian silver, Indian gold ! 
 
 That man ye shall not cover with a tomb ; 
 
 Not though the eagle ministers of Jove 104c 
 
 To Jove's own throne should bear their prey of him. 
 
 Not even for horror at such sacrilege 
 
 Will I permit his burial. This I know; 
 
 There is no power in any man to touch 
 
 The Gods with sacrilege; but foul the falls 
 
 Which men right cunning fall, Tiresias — 
 
 Old man, I say — when for the sake of gain 
 
 They speak foul treason with a fair outside. 
 
 Tiresias 
 Alas, does no man know, does no man think — 
 
 Creon 
 What should one think? What common saw is this? 
 
 Tiresias 
 How far good counsel passes all things good? 1050 
 
 Creon 
 So far, I think, folly's the worst of harm ! 
 
ANTIGONE 47 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 That is the infirmity that fills thy nature. 
 
 Creon 
 I care not to retort upon thee, seer. 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 Thou dost, thou say'st my oracles are false. 
 
 Creon 
 All the prophetic tribe are covetous. 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 And that of kings fond of disgraceful gain. |' 
 
 Creon 
 Know'st thou of whom thou speak'st ? I am thy lord. 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 Yea, thou hast saved the state; I gave it thee. 
 
 Creon 
 Thou art a wise seer, but in love with wrong. 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 Thou wilt impel me to give utterance 1060 
 
 To my still dormant prescience. 
 
 Creon 
 
 Say on ; 
 Only beware thou do not speak for gain. 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 For gain of thine, methinks, I do not speak. 
 
 Creon 
 Thou shalt not trade upon my wits, be sure. 
 
48 SOPHOCLES 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 And be thou sure of this ; thou shalt not tell 
 
 Many more turns of the sun's chariot-wheel, 
 
 Ere thou shalt render satisfaction, one 
 
 From thy own loins in payment, dead for dead, 
 
 For that thou hast made Life join hands with Death, 
 
 And sent a living soul unworthily 
 
 To dwell within a tomb, and keep'st a corpse 
 
 Here, from the presence of the Powers beneath, 1070 
 
 Not for thy rights or any God's above, 
 
 But lawlessly in their despite usurped, 
 
 Unhallowed, disappointed, uninterred ; 
 
 Wherefore the late-avenging punishers. 
 
 Furies, from Death and Heaven, lay wait for thee, 
 
 To take thee in the evil of thine own hands. 
 
 Look to it, whether I be bribed who speak ; 
 
 For as to that, with no great wear of time. 
 
 Men's, women's wails to thine own house shall answer. 
 
 Also all cities rise in mutiny, 1080 
 
 Unto the relics of whose heroes dead 
 
 No obsequies are done, save by wild beasts. 
 
 Or dogs, or by some fowl, whose pinions bear 
 
 Unhallowed savour to their , civic fire. 
 
 Such bolts, in wrath, since thou dar'st anger me, 
 
 I loosen at thy bosom, archer-like. 
 
 Sure-aimed, whose burning smart thou shalt not shun. 
 
 Lead me away, boy, to my own home again ; 
 
 And let him vent his spleen on younger men. 
 
 And learn to keep a tongue more gentle, and 
 
 A brain more sober, than he carries now. 1090 
 
 I Senator 
 
 The seer is gone, my lord, denouncing woe ; 
 And from the day my old hairs began to indue 
 Their white for black, we have known him for a watch 
 Who never barked to warn the state in vain. 
 
ANTIGONE 49 
 
 Creon 
 I know it too; and I am ill at ease; 
 'Tis bitter to submit; but Atd's hand 
 Smites bitterly on the spirit that abides her. 
 
 I Senator 
 Creon Menoeceus' son, be wise at need ! 
 
 Creon 
 What should I do, then? speak, and I will hearken. 
 
 I Senator 
 
 Go free the maiden from the vault, and build i 
 
 A tomb for that dead outcast. 
 
 Creon 
 
 You approve it? 
 You deem that I should yield? 
 
 I Senator 
 
 Sir, with all speed. 
 Swift-footed come calamities from Heaven 
 To cut off the perverse. 
 
 Creon 
 
 God, 'tis hard! 
 
 But I quit heart, and yield ; I may not venture 
 To fight at odds with Fate. 
 
 1 Senator 
 
 Up then, to work ! 
 Commit it not to others ! 
 
 Creon 
 I am gone 
 Upon the instant. Quickly, quickly men. 
 You and your fellows, get you, axe in hand, 
 ' Up toMhe place, there, yonder; and because i 
 
 - I am thus minded, other than before, 
 I who did bind her will be there to loose; 
 
 Y. A, 4 
 
50 SOPHOCLES 
 
 For it misgives me it is best to keep 
 The old appointed laws, all one's life long. 
 
 Exeunt Creon and Attendants. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 I. y. 
 
 Thou by many names addrest, 
 Child of Zeus loud-thundering, 
 Glory of a Theban maid, 
 Who unbidden wanderest 
 
 Fair Italia's King, 
 And art lord in each deep glade 
 
 Whither all men seek to her, 1120 
 
 Eleusinian Demeter ; 
 Bacchus, who by soft-flowing waters 
 Of Ismenus habitest 
 Theba, mother of Bacchant daughters. 
 With the savage Dragon's stock, 
 
 I. 2. 
 Thee the lurid wild-fire meets 
 On the double-crested rock. 
 Where Corycian Nymphs arow 
 Bacchic-wise ascending go. 
 
 Thee Castalia's riU; 
 Thee the ivy-covered capes 
 
 Usher forth of Nysa's hill, 1130 
 
 And the shore with green of grapes 
 Clustering, where the hymn to thee 
 Rises up immortally, 
 Visitant in Theban streets, 
 "Evoe, O Evoe!" 
 
 II. I. 
 Wherefore, seeing thy City thus — 
 City far above all other 
 Dear to thee, and her, thy mother 
 Lightning-slain — by sickness grievous 1140 
 
 Holden fast in all her gates. 
 Come with quickness to relieve us. 
 By the slopes of Parnasus, 
 Or the roaring straits. 
 
 II. 2. 
 Hail to thee, the first advancing 
 In the stars' fire-breathing choras ! 
 
ANTIGONE SI 
 
 Leader of the nightly strain, 
 Boy and son of Zeus and King ! 
 Manifest thyself before us 
 
 With thy frenzied Thyiad train, 1150 
 
 Who their lord lacchus dancing 
 Praise, and all night sing. 
 
 Enter a Messenger. 
 Messenger 
 You citizens who dwell beside the roof 
 Of Cadmus and Amphion, till it end 
 There is no state of human life that I 
 Would praise, or blame; for none can prophesy 
 What is set down for mortals; Fortune still 
 Raising and Fortune overthrowing still 1160 
 
 The happy and the unhappy. Creon, methought, 
 Was enviable erewhile, when he preserved 
 This land of Cadmus from its enemies, 
 And took the country's absolute monarchy. 
 And ruled it, flourishing with a noble growth 
 From his own seed ; and now, he has lost all. 
 For when men forfeit the delights of life. 
 One in that case I do not call alive. 
 But deem of him as of some animate corse. 
 Pile then great riches, if you please, at home ; 
 Wear thou 'the living semblance of a king ; 
 Yet, if good luck be wanting, all the rest 
 I would not purchase, as compared with joy, 11 70 
 
 From any, for the shadow of a shade. 
 
 Senator 
 What new disaster to the royal seed 
 Com'st thou to tell of? 
 
 Messenger 
 They are dead; the living 
 Are guilty of their death. 
 
 I Senator 
 Who is the slayer, 
 Speak ! who the victim ? 
 
 4—2 
 
52 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Messenger 
 Haemon is no more ; 
 His life-blood spilt, and by no stranger's hand. 
 
 I Senator 
 What, by his father's, or his own? 
 
 Messenger 
 
 Self-slaughtered ; 
 Wroth with his father for the maiden slain. 
 
 I Senator 
 Prophet ! how strictly have thy words come true ! 
 
 Messenger 
 Look to the future, for these things are so. 
 
 I Senator 
 
 And 1 behold the poor Eurydice 1180 
 
 Come to us from the palace, Creon's wife ; 
 Either through chance, or hearing her son's name. 
 
 Enter Eurydice. 
 Eurydice 
 
 all you citizens, I heard the sound 
 
 Of your discourse, as I approached the gates, 
 
 Meaning to bring my prayers before the face 
 
 Of Pallas; even as I undid the bolts. 
 
 And set the door ajar, a note of trouble 
 
 As of my own house pierces through my ears ; 
 
 And I sink backward on my handmaidens 
 
 Afaint for terror; but whate'er the tale, 1190 
 
 Tell it again; I am no novice, I, 
 
 In misery, that hearken. 
 
 Messenger 
 
 Dear my mistress, 
 
 1 saw, and I will speak, and will let slip 
 
 No syllable of the truth. Why should we soothe 
 
ANTIGONE 53 
 
 Your ears with stories, only to appear 
 
 Liars thereafter? Truth is alway right. 
 
 — I followed in attendance on your lord, 
 
 To the flat hill-top, where despitefully 
 
 Was lying, yet, harried by dogs, the body 
 
 Of Polynices. Pluto's name, and hers. 
 
 The Lady of Passings, we invoked, to stay 12c 
 
 Their anger, and be favourable ; and him 
 
 We washed with pure lustration, and consumed 
 
 On fresh-lopped branches the remains of him, 
 
 And piled a monument of natal earth 
 
 High over all ; thence to the maiden's cell, 
 
 Death's hollow bridal-chamber floored with stone. 
 
 We made as if to enter. But afar 
 
 One fellow hears a loud uplifted wail 
 
 About that unfunereal vestibule, 
 
 And coming tells his lord ; the confused noise 
 
 Of piteous crying finds Creon as he draws nigher. 
 
 And he sends forth a lamentable groan, 121 
 
 "And am I a true prophet! Woe is me. 
 
 Tread I the path most miserable of all 
 
 My journeyings past ! My son's voice thrills my ear. 
 
 What ho, my guard ! Run quickly thitherward. 
 
 Up to the tomb — enter the masonry 
 
 Where stones have been disturbed — proceed inside 
 
 The opening, and discern, whether I hear 
 
 The voice of Haemon, or am duped by Heaven." 
 
 Quickly, at our distracted lord's command. 
 
 We searched: and in the tomb's inmost recess 12 
 
 Found we her, as she had been hanged by the neck, 
 
 Fast in a strip-like loop of linen ; and him 
 
 Laid by her, clasping her about the waist, 
 
 Mourning his wedlock severed in the grave, 
 
 And his sire's deeds, and his ill-fated bride. 
 
 He, when he sees them, with a terrible cry 
 
 Goes in towards him, calling out aloud 
 
 "Ah miserable, what hast thou done? what mind 
 
 Hadst thou? by what misfortune art thou crazed? 
 
 Come out, my son, — suppliant I ask of thee!" 1230 
 
54 SOPHOCLES 
 
 But with fierce aspect the youth glared at him; 
 
 Spat in his face; answered him not a word; 
 
 Grasped at the crossed hilts of his sword, and drew it, 
 
 And — for the father started forth in flight — 
 
 Missed him ! then, angered with himself, poor fool, 
 
 There as he stood he flung himself along 
 
 Upon the sword-point firmly planted in 
 
 The middle of his breast, and, conscious yet. 
 
 Clings to the maid, clasped in his failing arms. 
 
 And gasping, sends forth on the pallid cheek 
 
 Sharp stifled sobs, with crimson drops of gore. 
 
 So he lies dead — with his arms round the dead; 1240 
 
 And has obtained full bridal honours, down 
 
 In Hades' halls — unhappy ! and displayed 
 
 Among mankind — yea what far worst of woe 
 
 The lack of counsel brings a man to know ! 
 
 Exit EURYDICE. 
 
 1 Senator 
 
 What do you make of this? The woman's gone 
 Back, and without one word, of good or bad ! 
 
 Messenger 
 
 I marvel too ; yet am I hopeful, that 
 
 She would not choose, hearing her son's sad fate, 
 
 In public to begin her keening-cry ; 
 
 But rather to her handmaids in the house 
 
 Dictate the mourning for a private pain. 
 
 She is not ignorant of self-control, 
 
 That she should err. 1250 
 
 I Senator 
 
 I know not; but on me 
 Weighs heavily both silence over-much, 
 And loud complaint in vain. 
 
 Messenger 
 
 Well, we shall know it, 
 If she hide aught within a high-wrought heart 
 
ANTIGONE 55 
 
 Even to suppression of its utterance, 
 
 If we approach the house. Yes, you say truly. 
 
 It does weigh heavy, silence over-much. 
 
 Exit. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Lo now, Creon himself draws near us, 
 Clasping a record — 
 If I may say so — ^but too manifest 
 Of no ruin at hands external, 
 But fore-caused by his own self-will. 1260 
 
 Enter Creon, attended, with the body of H^mon. 
 
 I. I. 
 Creon 
 
 O sins of a mind 
 
 That is minded to stray ! 
 Mighty to bind 
 
 And almighty to slay ! 
 Behold us, kin slayers and slain, O ye who stand by the way ! 
 
 Ah, newness of death ! 
 
 O my fruitless design ! 
 New to life's breath, 
 O son that wert mine, 
 Ah, ah, thou art dead, thou art freed, for a fault that was mine, not 
 thine ! 
 
 I Senator 
 Ah, how thou seem'st to see the truth, too late! 1270 
 
 Creon 
 Ah yes, I have learnt, I know it, miserable! 
 
 II. I. 
 
 Heaviness hath o'ertaken me 
 
 And mine head the rod ; 
 The roughness hath shaken me 
 
 Of the paths I trod ; 
 Woe is me ! my delight is brought low, cast under the feet of a God ! 
 
 Woe for man's labours that are profitless! 
 
56 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Re-enter the Messenger. 
 Messenger 
 O roaster, now thou hast and hast in store 
 Of sorrows; one thou bearest in thine arms, 
 And one at home thou seemest to be come 
 Merely to witness. 1280 
 
 Creon 
 And what more of sorrow. 
 Or what more sorrowful, is yet behind? 
 
 Messenger 
 
 Thy wife, the mother — mother of this dead corpse — 
 Is, by a blow just fallen, haplessly slain. 
 
 I. ,. 
 Creon 
 
 O hard to appease thee, 
 
 Haven of Death, 
 How should it please thee 
 
 To end this breath? 
 O herald of heavy news, what is this thy mouth uttereth ? 
 
 O man, why slayest thou 
 
 A man that is slain ? 
 Alas, how sayest thou 
 
 Anew and again 1290 
 
 That the slaying of a woman is added to slaying — a pain to a pain ? 
 
 Messenger 
 See for thyself; the palace doors unclose. 
 
 The Altar is disclosed, with the dead body of Eurydice. 
 Creon 
 ^Voe is me! I view my second misery. 
 
 n. 2. 
 
 What deed is not done ? 
 
 What tale is not told? 
 Mine arms, O my son, 
 
 Thy body enfold, 
 And I gaze on the face of the dead— the dead whom I behold. 
 
ANTIGONE 57 
 
 Ah, child, for thy poor mother! ah for thee! 1300 
 
 Messenger 
 
 She with a sharp-edged dagger in her heart 
 Lies at the altar; and her darkened lids 
 Close on her wailing for the glorious lot 
 Of Megareus, who died before, and next 
 For his, and last, upon her summoning 
 Evil to fall on thee, the child-slayer! 
 
 III. I. 
 Creon 
 
 Alas, I faint for dread ! 
 
 Is there none will deal 
 One sword-thrust, and lay me dead 
 With the two-edged steel ? 
 Ah woe is me ! 15 10 
 
 I am all whelmed in utter misery ! 
 
 Messenger 
 
 It may be so; thou art arraigned of her 
 Who here lies dead, for the occasion thou 
 Hast wrought for Destiny on her, and him. 
 
 I Senator 
 In what way did she slay herself and die? 
 
 Messenger 
 Soon as she heard the raising of the wail 
 For her son's death, she stabbed herself to the heart. 
 
 IV. I. 
 Creon 
 
 Ah me, from whose guilt shall I borrow 
 
 Excuse for my guilt? 
 By me, by me only, O my sorrow, 
 
 Thy life-blood was spilt. 1320 
 
 O bear me, haste ye, spare not. 
 
 To the ends of earth. 
 More nothing than they who were not 
 
 In the hour of birth ! 
 
58 SOPHOCLES 
 
 I Senator 
 
 Thou biddest well — if anything be well 
 
 To follow, in calamity; the ills 
 
 Lying at our feet, soonest o'erpast, are best. 
 
 III. 2. 
 
 Creon 
 
 Come, thou most welcome fate, 
 
 O appear, come fast ; 
 Of my sad life bringing the date, 1330 
 
 Of my days the last ; 
 Come quickly, I pray ; 
 Let me not look upon another day ! 
 
 I Senator 
 
 This for to-morrow; we must take some thought 
 For that which lies before us; as for this, 
 It is their care to whom the care is given. 
 
 Creon 
 I did but join your prayer for our desire. 
 
 I Senator 
 
 Pray thou for nothing more; there is no respite 
 To mortals from the ills of destiny. 
 
 IV. 2. 
 Creon 
 
 Lead me forth, cast me out, no other 
 
 Than a man undone ; 
 Who have slain, unwitting, thy mother 1340 
 
 And thee, my son I 
 I turn me I know not where 
 
 For my plans ill-sped. 
 And a burden that is heavy to bear 
 
 Has come down on my head. 
 
 Exit Creon, attended. 
 
ANTIGONE 
 
 59 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Wisdom first for a man's well-being 
 
 Maketh, of all things ; Heaven's insistence 
 
 Nothing allows of man's irreverence ; 
 
 And great blows great speeches avenging, 1350 
 
 Dealt on a boaster, 
 Teach men wisdom in age, at last. 1 
 
 Exeunt omnes. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 2. I have after much hesitation followed the interpretation of the 
 passage as it stands, which was first given by Boeckh. 
 
 4. I have adopted Person's correction, dri/s Ixo"- 
 
 •24. I omit xi"l<'9ds, which I cannot construe, and read Sixaiif. 
 aiiv SIk-q dixalf is surely impossible. 
 
 31. If Professor Kennedy's interpretation is to be followed, read— 
 " This is the matter which has been proclaimed 
 By your good Creon, as they say — and mine — 
 Mine too, I do confess ! ' ' 
 But my preference is for the more usual rendering. 
 
 125. I follow the reading di-TtiraXoi; dpaKovros. 
 
 130. I cannot reconcile myself to the omission of the name of the 
 slain warrior. The accusative participle bpuuvr', standing by itself, is 
 surely bad Greek. It certainly is not justified by the very specific, 
 though anonymous mention of "the man from Argos," 1. 106. I 
 believe that the name 'Ka.iravij\ in an Ionic form, such as we sometimes 
 find in Choruses, lurks behind that superfluous second genitive — 
 (cavaxiis. If this is so, and the comma is transferred from virepoTrras to 
 XpuffoC, the passage, to my ear, gains both in sound and sense. The ex- 
 istence of iirepiTTTa in the corresponding place of the strophe is a reason 
 for retaining the old correction inrepdirras. 
 
 1 34. The form of the participle TavraXaBels involves a mythological 
 allusion, which ought to be preserved in translation. 
 
 235. Read dedpayfi^vos ; and in 320, \d\Tj/xa\ and in 497, tL 
 
 450. I follow the reading ro/oucrS' iv dvBputroiinv lipiaev, recom- 
 mended by Professor Jebb. 
 
 556. The interpretation "but not without my having spoken" ap- 
 pears far-fetched and inconsistent with the context. 
 
 572, 4, 6. I do not follow the MSS. and Dindorf, but the traditional 
 arrangement, which gives line 572 to Antigone. 
 
 600. I do not adopt DindorPs reading riraTo, but I adopt the 
 conjecture K6iris, since it appears impossible to make sense of a/j^ Kins. 
 For the sentiment, compare Llywarch Hen, as translated in Guest's 
 Orig. Cell. Vol. 11. p. 292 — 
 
ANTIGONE 6 1 
 
 ' ' Unprenn agouit arnav 
 Odieine ys odit ; 
 Ac auynno duv derffit." 
 
 "One tree with the tendril on it 
 Is escaping, it may be ; 
 But what God shall have willed, let it come ! " 
 
 614. The passage is corrupt, and only a general impression of the 
 meaning appears to be recoverable. 
 
 674. I follow Professor Jebb in reading ffu/i/icixou 5op6s, but suppose 
 it to mean simply "spearmen fighting in concert," not "forces allied 
 with ours." 
 
 735. Compare Shakespeare, A, Y. L.I. Act I, Sc. i, 1. 56. Other 
 similarities of expression may be traced in 1. 527, with Temp. Act V, 
 Sc. I, 64 ; in 737, with J. C. Act i, Sc.2, 153, and in 1071, with Hamlet, 
 Act I, Sc. 5, 77. 
 
 781. It is sometimes allowable to cut a, new facet, in resetting a 
 diamond. I have made the whole of this passage an address to Eros ; 
 in the original the form of sentence is varied at 1. 786, and the subject 
 is changed to it/iepos at 1. 795. The metres employed here and at 1. 1,261, 
 and some others in the play, are of Mr Swinburne's invention ; see his 
 Atalanta in Calydon, which appeared while I was engaged upon it. 
 
 795. I read with the MSS. tux ii,e-^6.\av TapeSpos iv Apxats 6e(jiJ,G)v. 
 But what dpxtti are intended ? Clearly those which Eros has acquired, 
 or Himeros for him. The reason of this conquest follows : these are the 
 regions in which Aphrodita sports resistlessly. The conquest of Eros, 
 Himeros and Aphrodita is one and the same conquest. 
 
 838. I have not omitted this line, as Dindorf. 
 
 85 1 . Either this line or the next must go. I have supplied a few 
 words to fill the gap. 
 
 876. Read raXai^pcov dyofj^ai rdvd' ^Toifw,v 686v. 
 
 908. tIvos vbixov S-rj is emphatic ; ' ' there is law, as well as justice, 
 on my side." 
 
 943. The long conflict between eiae^eiv and tr^/Seic, between piety 
 and conventional reverence, is here reconciled. Compare 11. 454, 730, 
 873, 924. This is an instance in which it has appeared to me quite 
 impossible to convey the moral weight of the original by translating the 
 same Greek words always into the same English ones. 
 
 1065. rpoxois, the MSS. reading, is followed by Potter and 
 Donaldson. "Many courses of the sun" would imply days; hours seem 
 wanted here. Moreover the epithet a.p.iXK-qTfipai suits wheels better than 
 courses. 
 
62 SOPHOCLES 
 
 1097. I take At4 as the object after Tri.pa, not as the instrument 
 after Trariif ai. Like v4/ii.ecris, Bivaros, &c. an} tends in Sophocles towards 
 personification. 
 
 1 1 50. Read uya|, not No|iais. 
 
 1 2 20. KpefiacTTifiv is usually translated as if equivalent to Kps/iafUvtiv. 
 But this makes Hsemon's conduct ridiculous; the first thing he would do 
 was to take down the body, and 11. 1223, 1237 show that he had actually 
 done so. 
 
 1236. ijpeuj-e irXevpais /litra-oi' must mean, I think, " pressed to his 
 ribs, in the middle of them " ; that is to say, where they meet. A man 
 could hardly commit suicide by leaning sideways on his Sword. 
 
 1 28 1. I follow Professor Campbell's interpretation. 
 
 1301. I adopt the reading favoured by Professor Jebb, i^oBiiKTtf 
 Pu/da trepl ^Itpei.. 
 
 1336. I read ipSp.ei'. This gives a force to the proposition in 
 a-vyKurev^ci/iriv, which is otherwise lost. 
 
 I have obligations to acknowledge to Professor Campbell for a few 
 words in 11. 430, 740, 747 ; and to Dr Donaldson's version in 
 1. 317. Besides many valuable criticisms, I am indebted for the findl 
 form of 1. 523 to Miss Shore. Professor Jebb's edition appeared while 
 these pp. were in the press, and has caused me to alter my views of the 
 reading, or to revise my rendering, in a few passages; but I have not 
 borrowed from his translation, or adopted his more bold — sometimes 
 very tempting — innovations. 
 
AJAX 
 
AJAX 
 
 PERSONS REPRESENTED 
 
 The Goddess Athena. 
 
 Ulysses, son of Lartius, {or as some said of Sisyphus^ 
 King of Ithaca. 
 
 AjAX, son of Telamon and Eribcea, leader of the forces of 
 Salamis. 
 
 Tecmessa, daughter of Teuthras or Teleutas, King of 
 Phrygia, the captive-wife of A j ax. 
 
 Eurysaces, a child, son of Ajax by Tecmessa. 
 
 Teucer, son of Telamon by his captive-wife Hesione. 
 
 Menelaus, King of Sparta, brother to Agamemnon. 
 
 Agamemnon, King of Argos, General-in-chief of the Greeks. 
 
 A Messenger, a soldier in the Salaminian forces. 
 
 The Chorus is composed of Mariners of the Salaminian 
 squadron. 
 
 Servants to Ajax. 
 
 v. a. 
 
AJAX 
 
 Scene, the sea-shore of Troia, before the quarters of Ajax. 
 
 Enter Ulysses, and Athena above. 
 
 Athena 
 Ever I see you, son of Lartius, 
 Busily hunting to achieve some quest 
 Upon your foes ; and I observe you now 
 Before the tents of Ajax, by the ships. 
 Where is his station in their farthest row, 
 Patiently tracing out and measuring 
 The newly-printed footmarks he has made. 
 That you may learn if he is within, or no. 
 And a keen scent, as of some Spartan hound, 
 Carries your course right bravely to its end ; 
 For so it is, he is but now come in. 
 Dripping with sweat, both from his countenance 
 And his hands armed for slaughter. So no longer i 
 Need you be peering here inside the wicket ; 
 Only discover why you set yourself 
 This task, that you may learn from me, who know. 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 accents of the friendliest Power to me 
 
 Of all the Gods — Athena — with what clearness. 
 Although thou art remote from my regard. 
 As of some brazen-mouthed Etrurian horn, 
 
 1 hear and recognize the voice of thee ! 
 Rightly didst thou discern my prowling round 
 After a foe — Ajax the Shield-bearer; 
 
 He and no other is it whom I am tracking. 2 
 
68 SOPHOCLES 
 
 He poses us by the irrational part 
 
 He has performed this night ; if he has done it ; 
 
 For we know nothing sure ; we are astray. 
 
 I volunteered to undertake this labour; 
 
 For we have just found all the herds, our spoil, 
 
 To have been destroyed, slaughtered by violence. 
 
 Together with the herdsmen ; and the crime 
 
 Every one lays to him. One scout, that saw him 
 
 Alone, with reeking sword, bounding along, 30 
 
 Spake and informed me ; and immediately 
 
 I started on the trail; and of some footprints 
 
 I am assured ; but others baffle me ; 
 
 And whose they are I know not. In good time 
 
 Com'st thou ! for as of old, so afterward, 
 
 In all things I am governed by thy hand. 
 
 Athena 
 I knew it, Ulysses ; and in readiness 
 I came to meet you, and to guard your quest. 
 
 Ulysses 
 Dear mistress, am I labouring to good end? 
 
 Athena 
 So far — that it was he who did the deed. 
 
 Ulysses 
 How came he to set hand to such a folly? 40 
 
 Athena 
 Mastered by fury about Achilles' arms. 
 
 Ulysses 
 Why does he make this onslaught upon cattle? 
 
 Athena 
 He thought to imbrue his hands in your hearts' blood. 
 
 Ulysses 
 What, did he mean to fall upon the Greeks? 
 
AJAX 69 
 
 Athena 
 And would have done it, had I suffered him. 
 
 Ulysses 
 How did he dare or hope to compass it? 
 
 Athena 
 At night, by stealth, singly he came on you — 
 
 Ulysses 
 What, did he reach us and attain the goal? 
 
 Athena 
 Yes, he was just at the two Captains' doors. 
 
 Ulysses 
 What made him hold his hand, raging for blood? 50 
 
 Athena 
 
 I kept him off, casting upon his eyes 
 
 Grievous conceits of his infatuate glee. 
 
 And turned him toward the flocks and common herd 
 
 Of captured cattle in the herdmen's charge, 
 
 Yet undivided. There he fell on them, 
 
 And slashed about the horned carcases, 
 
 Cleaving their chines; and he supposed himself 
 
 Sometimes to seize and slay with his own hand 
 
 The two Atrids, and sometimes to fall 
 
 Upon some other of the generals. 
 
 I, as he raged in his delirium-fit, 
 
 Urged him — impelled him deeper in the toils. 60 
 
 Thereafter, when he rested from this work. 
 
 He tied together, in their turn, with bonds, 
 
 The oxen that survived, and all the sheep. 
 
 And brought them to his dwelUng, deeming them 
 
 No horned spoil, but men ; and now within 
 
 Bound to each other he is torturing them. 
 
 Here — I will shew you his sheer lunacy; 
 
 That you yourself may see it, and report 
 
70 SOPHOCLES 
 
 To all the Argives. Stand courageously ! 
 
 Do not imagine he is dangerous; 
 
 For I will turn and keep away his eyes 
 
 From looking on your presence. — Ho Sir, you, 70 
 
 Tying your prisoners' hands behind their backs — 
 
 Ajax, I say 1 Come forth, out from the palace ! 
 
 Ulysses 
 What dost thou, Athena ? Call him out by no means ! 
 
 Athena 
 Will you be silent, and not play the coward? 
 
 Ulysses 
 Do not, for Heaven's sake, do it ! Be content, 
 And let him keep within. 
 
 Athena 
 
 For fear of what ? 
 Was he not, all along, a man ? 
 
 Ulysses 
 To me 
 An enemy; and he is so, even now. 
 
 Athena 
 
 And is not mocking sweetest, when you make 
 Your mock of enemies? 
 
 Ulysses 
 I am content 
 He should remain within. 80 
 
 Athena 
 
 Are you afraid 
 To view a man, because he is stark mad ? 
 
 Ulysses 
 If he were sane, I had not budged for fear. 
 
 Athena 
 But now he shall not see that you are by. 
 
AJAX 71 
 
 Ulysses 
 How can that be, unless his eyes are blind? 
 
 Athena 
 I will bedarken even eyes that see. 
 
 Ulysses 
 Well, anything may happen, if a God 
 Take it in hand to do ! 
 
 Athena 
 
 Now, hold your peace; 
 Remain where you are standing. 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 So I will; 
 But I could wish that I were out of it. 
 
 Athena 
 
 Ho, Ajax, once again I summon you I 
 
 Why do you heed so little your ally? 90 
 
 Enter Ajax, with a scourge. 
 Ajax 
 Welcome, Athena ! Welcome, Child of Jove I 
 Well art thou come ! and I will honour thee 
 With gold oblations for this prize of mine ! 
 
 Athena 
 
 That was well said; but did you — tell me now — 
 Blood your sword well upon the Argive host? 
 
 Ajax 
 So I may boast, and I will not deny it ! 
 
 Athena 
 Did you lift hand upon the Atridse, too? 
 
 Ajax 
 So, that they never shall flout Ajax more ! 
 
72 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Athena 
 The men are dead — so I conceive you mean? 
 
 AjAX 
 
 Dead. Let them rob me of my armour, now ! 
 
 Athena 
 
 Well, what about the son of Lartius? 
 How has he fared? Has he eluded you? 
 
 AjAX 
 
 Where that confounded fox is, asked you me ? 
 
 Athena 
 I did — Ulysses, your competitor. 
 
 AjAX 
 
 He sits within, a most sweet prisoner; 
 I do not mean to kill him yet, my queen. 
 
 Athena 
 Till you have done^or got — what further? 
 
 AjAX 
 
 Till 
 Bound to a pillar of the court inside — 
 
 Athena 
 What mischief will you do to him, poor wretch ? 
 
 AjAX 
 
 Score his back purple, and so finish him. 
 
 Athena 
 Nay, torture not the wretched creature so ! 
 
 AjAX 
 
 Athena, , to the rest I make thee welcome ; 
 But he shall suffer this, and this alone. 
 
AJAX 73 
 
 Athena 
 
 Well, well, if it would give you so much pleasure. 
 Lay on, spare nought of what you think to do. 
 
 AjAX 
 
 I go to work. This I commit to thee ; 
 
 Stand by me, ever, such a friend as now. Exit. 
 
 Athena 
 
 Seest thou how great, Ulysses, is the might 
 
 Of Deities ? Whom could you have found more prudent. 
 
 Or abler to perform his part, than he? 120 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 I know of none ; and I commiserate him — ■ 
 Wretch^notwithstanding that he is my foe, 
 Bound hand and foot with dire calamity; 
 Pondering his case no deeper than my own, 
 Seeing in us all, as many as are alive. 
 Nothing but phantoms or a fleeting shade. 
 
 Athena 
 
 Thou therefore, looking on such sights as this. 
 
 Speak before Heaven no overweening word. 
 
 Nor e'er presume, though thou at all prevail 
 
 In weight of hand or plenteousness of wealth. 130 
 
 A day can prostrate and upraise again 
 
 All that is human ; but the temperate 
 
 Heaven favours, and abominates the froward. 
 
 Exeunt severally. Enter Mariners of Salamis, as Chorus. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Son of Telamon, who dost keep 
 
 Seat where sea-girt Salamis 
 
 Borders on the ocean-deep, 
 
 I am joyful in thy bliss; 
 
 But if stroke from Jove on high, 
 
 Or ungentle calumny 
 
 From the Danaans light on thee, 
 
74 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Straight I fear exceedingly. 
 
 And am daunted, like the eye 
 
 Of some fluttering dove. And thus, 14° 
 
 In the night just faded now, 
 
 Noisy rumours saddle us 
 
 With dishonour, how that thou 
 
 Did'st to the meadows take thy way 
 
 Where our steeds run wild, ^nd slay 
 
 All the Danaans' flocks and herds — 
 
 All the leavings of their spears. 
 
 With thy gleaming blade. 
 In such form his whispered words 
 Ulysses pours in all men's ears, 
 
 And can well persuade. 
 For he tells of thee a thing 150 
 
 Credible; and each that hears 
 More than he who this imparts 
 Joys, in thy griefs triumphing. 
 For the archer at great hearts 
 Cannot miss ; against the king 
 Envy creeps ; while one who jeered 
 Thus at me would ill be heard. 
 Yet, without the great, the small 
 Make the tower but feeble wall; 
 And happiest ordered were that state 
 Where small are companied with great, 160 
 
 Where strong are propped by weak. 
 But with precepts of this lore 
 Vain the effort o'er and o'er 
 Foolish men to indoctrinate; 
 And such are they who at thee rail; 
 And we without thee nought avail 
 
 In thy defence to speak. 
 When they escape thine eye, my king. 
 Like birds on wing 
 
 They chatter loud and shrill; 
 But if thou wert to appear. 
 Quickly would they cower, in fear 
 Of the mighty vulture, and be still. 170 
 
 I. 
 
 Did Artemis divine, 
 Jove's Taurian daughter — ah that I should name 
 The loud-voiced rumour, mother of my shame — 
 Send thee against the common herds of kine? 
 
AJAX 75 
 
 Was't for some unrequited victory? 
 
 Was she defrauded of some trophied gear? 
 Or of some gift withheld unthankfully 
 
 In huntings of the deer? 
 Did mail-clad Ares, to avenge some slight 
 
 Of his auxiliar spear, i8o 
 
 Punish the affront in stratagems of night ? 
 
 II. 
 
 For ne'er could'st thou have gone 
 Of set intention, son of Telamon, 
 So far astray, as upon creatures dumb 
 
 To make assault. True, plagues from Heaven must come ; 
 But Zeus and Phoebus keep us from the ill 
 
 Men rumour ! While the kings illustrious — 
 While any abandoned son of Sisyphus 190 
 
 Insinuates calumny. 
 Raise not, my liege, raise not reproach for me. 
 
 By thus regarding still 
 Nothing, beyond thy chamber by the sea ! 
 
 Up and leave thy seat, wherever thou art rooted 
 
 In this age-long ceasing from the fight, 
 Kindling wrath in heaven ! The scoff's of foes are bruited 
 
 In the wind-swept glens, without affright ; 
 And by all men thou art babbled at and hooted, 
 
 And to me comes nothing but despite. 200 
 
 Enter Tecmessa. 
 
 Tecmessa 
 
 Mariners of Ajax' fleet, 
 Of Erectheus' earth-born stock. 
 Lamentable is our case 
 Who in this far distant place 
 Love the house of Telamon ; 
 Now our rugged mighty one, 
 Dreaded Ajax, is down-beat 
 By a wildering tempest-shock ! 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 And by what so heavy chance 
 Has the night's tranquillity 
 Been broken, say? since Ajax great 
 Loves and sets thee by his side — 
 
76 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Thee, Teleutas' daughter, thee 210 
 
 Phrygian-born, a spear-won bride ; 
 Therefore not in ignorance 
 Need'st thou answer. 
 
 Tecmessa 
 
 How should I 
 Things unspeakable relate? 
 You shall hear of misery 
 Deep as death ; for in the night, 
 In one frenzy-fit, is gone 
 All our Ajax' old renown ; 
 Such blood-boltered butcheries 
 In the hut await your sight, 
 Offerings of no hand but his. 220 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 What story, impossible to blink or bear. 
 
 Is this thou tellest, of a man like flame. 
 By the great Danaans rumoured everywhere. 
 
 And waxing with the loudness of its fame? 
 Ah woe is me, I fear the fate that comes ! 
 
 In all men's eyes the man will yield his breath. 
 
 For that his frenzied hand brought common death, 230 
 
 Under the sword's dark edge, on herds and herdmen-grooms. 
 
 Tecmessa 
 
 Thence, alas I 
 
 Thence it was 
 
 That with wonder 
 
 We saw him come, 
 
 With the sheep, all bound ; 
 
 And slaughter some 
 
 Within, on the ground ; 
 
 And cleave asunder 
 
 The ribs of others ; 
 
 And seizing upon 
 
 Two white-hoofed brothers, 
 
 The severed tongue 
 
 And head of the one 
 
 On the earth he flung ; 
 
 And the second tied 
 
 By a post upright; 240 
 
 And snatching a thong 
 
 Of harness-leather, 
 
A/AX 77 
 
 Fiercely he plied 
 
 The whistling bight 
 
 On the poor wether, 
 Uttering the while reproaches many and dire, 
 Such as some power scarce human might inspire. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Time is it that with veil covering our face 
 
 We should endeavour stealthily to flee. 
 Or take the speed-compelling oarsman's place, 
 
 And get the vessel under weigh for sea ! 250 
 
 With such loud menaces the Atridse great 
 
 Ply oar against us; I am filled with dread 
 
 Of being stoned, till he and we be dead, 
 Suffering alike with him, whelmed by his desolate fate. 
 
 Tecmessa 
 
 No, no more; 
 
 Like a keen south gale. 
 
 When the lightnings fail. 
 
 His fury is o'er. 
 
 Now, sober again, 
 
 He feels new pain ; 
 For to behold harms of one's own hands' doing, 160 
 
 Where none beside has wrought, causes sharp ruing. 
 
 I Mariner 
 
 But I suppose that all may yet be well, 
 If they have ceased ; for lesser is the count 
 Of ill that's past already. 
 
 Tecmessa 
 
 Would you choose, 
 If choice were free, to have delights yourself, 
 Vexing your friends, or in their company 
 To be tormented, share for share, as they are? 
 
 r Mariner 
 The twofold evil is the greater, lady. 
 
 Tecmessa 
 Then are we sufferers, now the plague is past. 
 
78 SOPHOCLES 
 
 I Mariner 
 How say you so? I know not what you say. 270 
 
 Tecmessa 
 The man we speak of, when he was diseased, 
 Himself had pleasure from his malady. 
 Whilst we, in our right minds, were pained for him ; 
 Now, since he rose and breathed, freed from his madness, 
 He has been all distracted with sore grief, 
 And we are left no lighter than before. 
 Is not this trouble doubly multiplied? 
 
 I Mariner 
 I am of your opinion ; and I fear 
 
 Some heaven-sent stroke may have come on him. How else, 
 If, being made whole, he is no more at ease 
 Than when he was in sickness? 280 
 
 Tecmessa 
 
 Thus it is. 
 You may be well assured. 
 
 T Mariner 
 
 How did the evil 
 First light upon him ? Tell us what has happened ; 
 We grieve with you. ' 
 
 Tecmessa 
 You shall hear all that passed, 
 Being sharers in the event. At dead of night. 
 When the evening camp-fires now no longer blazed, 
 He grasped his two-edged weapon, and seemed bent 
 To sally upon some errand, objectless. 
 I, in surprise, said to him "What dost thou, Ajax? 
 Why thus unsummoned either by the voice 
 Of messengers, or any trumpet-call, 290 
 
 Goest thou forth? Now the whole host is sleeping!" 
 But he replied briefly and in cant phrase ; 
 "Woman, a woman should be seen, not heard." 
 I held my tongue, and he rushed forth alone. 
 
AJAX 79 
 
 What there befell him truly I cannot say; 
 
 But he came in and brought, bound all together, 
 
 Bulls, herdmen's dogs and fleecy spoil of sheep. 
 
 Some he beheaded ; of some, their heads bent upward, 
 
 He cut the throats and clave the chines in twain. 
 
 And some he bound and tortured, as if human, 
 
 (Though it was cattle he fell on ;) and at last 300 
 
 Rushing out through the door he hurled up words 
 
 To a phantom, some against the Atridae, some 
 
 About Ulysses, laughing loud and long 
 
 At all the outrage he had wreaked on them ; 
 
 Then darting back into the hut, once more 
 
 Hardly and by degrees he comes to reason ; 
 
 When looking on the chamber filled with havock 
 
 He shrieked, and smote his head. Then he sat down, 
 
 Flinging himself among the weltering wrack 
 
 Of sheep that he had butchered, and clutched hold 
 
 Upon his hair with his clenched fists. Since then, 310 
 
 Most of the time he sat, uttering no sound ; 
 
 After, he threatened me — 'twas terrible ! 
 
 If I disclosed not all that had befallen, 
 
 And questioned me, what could have come to him. 
 
 O friends, in fear, I told him the whole story. 
 
 So far as I well knew it. Instantly 
 
 He burst out crying lamentably — cries 
 
 Such as I never heard from him before. 
 
 For clamour of the kind, he ever taught. 
 
 Belonged to base and pusillanimous spirits; 320 
 
 Rather, suppressing all shrill outcries, he 
 
 Would groan, low, like the rumbling of a bull. 
 
 Now, prostrate under such adversity. 
 
 He, without meat or drink, sits on the ground 
 
 Among the beasts his edge has dealt on, dumb. 
 
 And plain it is he meditates no good ; 
 
 That way, at least, his words and wailings tend. 
 
 But O dear friends — for therefore was my errand — 
 
 Come in and help us, if by any means 
 
 You have the power ; for such men as he 
 
 Are conquered by the counsels of a friend. 
 
8o SOPHOCLES 
 
 I Mariner 
 
 Tecmessa — daughter of Teleutas — this 
 
 Is evil news you bring us — that your lord 
 
 Has been driven quite beside himself with trouble ! 
 
 AjAX {within) 
 Woe, woe is me ! 
 
 Tecmessa 
 
 It seems the trouble will be worse anon. » 
 Did you not hear the voice of Ajax crying? 
 
 AjAX (within) 
 Woe, woe is me ! 
 
 I Mariner 
 
 The man seems either to be mad, or grieved 
 By presence of his former madness. 
 
 Ajax {within) 
 
 Here, 
 My boy, my boy ! 
 
 Tecmessa 
 
 Me miserable ! Eurysaces, 'tis thee 340 
 
 He calls fori What is in his mind? Where art thou? 
 Unhappy that I am ! 
 
 Ajax {within) 
 
 Teucer I want ! 
 Where's Teucer? Will he never have done foraying? 
 And I — -am perishing ! 
 
 1 Mariner 
 
 The man appears 
 To be of sound mind. Open, there ! Perhaps 
 He may be moved, even at the sight of me. 
 
 Tecmessa 
 
 Here, I will open. You can see his work; 
 And in what present plight he finds himself. 
 
AJAX 8r 
 
 The Scene opens, and discovers Ajax among the slain animals. 
 
 AjAX 
 
 friends, O sailors good, 
 
 Faithfiil alone among the faithless found, 350 
 
 Behold me, by what storm-driven surge of blood 
 
 1 am encompassed round 1 
 
 I Mariner 
 It seems, alas, your words are all too true. 
 How mad the' work, it may itself shew clearly. 
 
 Ajax 
 
 O comrades, who with me 
 Plied the oar-blade, your mariner's craft, o'er sea. 
 You are my stay, you only, against my pain! 360 
 
 Come, slay me — as these are slain! 
 
 I Mariner 
 Speak not so rashly. Cure not ill with ill, 
 Embittering all the mischief that is done. 
 
 Ajax 
 
 Dost thou behold 
 How I, stout heart and bold, 
 I, the undaunted once in open battle. 
 Lay violent hands on unsuspecting cattle? 
 
 Alas for scorn ! How am I put to shame ! 
 
 Tecmessa 
 Pray, my lord Ajax, do not say these things ! 
 
 Ajax 
 Away, take yourself hence! Alas, alas! 370 
 
 Tecmessa 
 O, in Heaven's name, yield to me and be wise ! 
 
 Ajax 
 
 Woe, woe is me, 
 That let slip through my hands the slaves of destiny. 
 And falling among horned kine, and goat-flocks good. 
 Let out their turbid blood! 
 
 Y. A. 6 
 
82 SOPHOCLES 
 
 I Mariner 
 Why will you grieve over what's past and done? 
 It cannot now be altered, not to be, 
 
 AjAX 
 
 Ah Lartius' son ! 
 Ah thou all-spying one! 
 Thou of all ills the ever-willing tool ! 380 
 
 Thou most foul knave, making the host thy fool ! 
 
 I warrant thou art laughing loud for joy. 
 
 I Mariner 
 As the God wills, every man laughs, and mourns. 
 
 AjAX 
 
 Wreck as I am, would that I could but see him! 
 O woe is me! 
 
 I Mariner 
 Speak mildly. See you not your evil case? 
 
 AjAX 
 
 O Zeus most high, 
 Forefather of my forefathers, would that, having slain 
 That wiliest hateful villain, and those monarchs twain, 390 
 
 Myself might lastly die ! 
 
 Tecmessa 
 When you pray that, pray that I too may perish; 
 For why should I be living, and you dead? 
 
 Ajax 
 
 O darkness, now my light, 
 
 O gloom to me most bright. 
 Take me, yea take me for your habitant: 
 
 Take me! for I can brook 
 
 No longer now to look 
 Either to God or mortal, in my want. 400 
 
 Nay, rather upon me 
 
 The strong divinity. 
 Daughter of Jove, destructive torment sends ; 
 
 Then what escape is best? 
 
 Where should I turn for rest. 
 Now that my former fame is fading, friends, 
 
A/AX 83 
 
 And retribution follows instantly, 
 
 And here I sit, with my ridiculous prey, 
 And the whole host will aim a dart at me. 
 Once and again, to slay? 
 
 Tecmessa 
 
 misery, that a man so good should speak 410 
 Thus — as he never would have deigned, before ! 
 
 AjAX 
 
 Ye ways where surges roar, 
 
 Sea caves and green-clad shore, 
 Ye kept me for a long long time indeed 
 
 Lying Troy's walls beneath; 
 
 But now — no more in breath; 
 No more; a riddle that the wise may read. 
 
 O streams that take your course 
 
 Down from Scamander's source. 
 You kindly neighbours to the Argive host, 420 
 
 Through all futurity 
 
 You ne'er again shall see 
 The face of one, who utters now this boast, 
 That of all those from Grecian soil who came 
 
 Troy saw no other soldier such as I, 
 Who notwithstanding, put to open shame. 
 
 Upon the ground here lie ! 
 
 I Mariner 
 
 1 have no voice to stay you, no, nor yet 
 To bid you speak, fallen in such miseries. 
 
 AjAX 
 
 Ah, who would have supposed it possible 430 
 
 The name I bear should ever be attuned 
 
 To these misfortunes ! Doubly, trebly now 
 
 May I lament ; such ills have come on me ; 
 
 Whose father in these coasts of Ida once 
 
 Won the first prize for valour of the host, 
 
 And to his home returned all gloriously; 
 
 While I, his son, who with no meaner power 
 
 Invaded this same tract of Troy, nor less 
 
 Myself exhibited of prowess, thus. 
 
 Being dishonoured by the Argives, perish ! 440 
 
84 SOPHOCLES 
 
 And yet this much, truly, I think I know ; 
 
 That if Achilles were himself alive, 
 
 And had to choose, concerning his own arms. 
 
 To whom the prize of excellence was due. 
 
 No other would have snatched it, over me. 
 
 But now the Atridae have by practice wrought 
 
 For an unscrupled villain, and passed over 
 
 The might of this right hand. Had but mine eyesight — 
 
 Had but my counsels swerved not in their aim. 
 
 They should have had no second cause to judge, 
 
 As they judged mine ! 'Twas the unmastered Power, 450 
 
 Jove's grim-eyed daughter, that illuded me, 
 
 There as I stood, raising my hand to smite them. 
 
 Casting upon me a sick frenzy-fit, 
 
 So that my hands were reddened with the blood 
 
 Of these poor cattle ! And they laugh at me ; 
 
 Having escaped — not as I meant for them. 
 
 Yes ; if some deity must interfere. 
 
 The bad will scape the better. As things are. 
 
 What must I do? whom plainly the Gods hate, 
 
 Whom the Hellenian host abominate, 
 
 Whom all Troy loathes, ay and these stones of it ! 
 
 Shall I abandon the ship's anchorage, 460 
 
 Leave the Atridae in the lurch, and pass 
 
 Homeward, across the j^gean? And what visage 
 
 Shall I display, when I appear before 
 
 My father, Telamon? How will he endure 
 
 To look upon me in his presence, bare. 
 
 Void of the honours wherein he himself 
 
 Gained a great crown of glory ? It may not be. 
 
 Then shall I march against the fence of Troy, 
 
 Fall, singlehanded, only on the foe, 
 
 And, after some good service, lastly die? 
 
 That is the way to please the Atridae, though. 
 
 It is impossible. Some enterprise 470 
 
 Must be sought out, by which to manifest 
 
 To my old father that, in heart at least, 
 
 Not wholly nerveless I descend from him. 
 
 It is a shame to crave long life, when troubles 
 
A/AX 8 s 
 
 Allow a man no respite. What delight 
 
 Bring days, one with another, setting down 
 
 Or putting off merely our date of death? 
 
 I would not take the fellow at a gift 
 
 Who warms himself with unsubstantial hopes ; 
 
 But bravely to live on, or bravely end, 
 
 Is due to gentle breeding. I have said. 480 
 
 I Mariner 
 
 That not heart-felt, but feigning, are the words 
 Which you have spoken, Ajax, none will say. 
 Still, pause an instant; let these fancies be. 
 And suffer friends to master your resolve. 
 
 Tecmessa 
 
 my lord Ajax, in the lot of men 
 Nothing is harder than Necessity. 
 
 1 was descended of a sire free-born. 
 Strong in his wealth, if ever Phrygian was ; 
 And now, I am a slave. So the Gods willed it. 
 
 And thy right hand determined. Coming thus 49° 
 
 Unto thy bed, I am on thy side, now. 
 
 And I beseech thee by our household Jove, 
 
 And by thy couch, which thou hast shared with me. 
 
 Leave me not open to contemptuous talk 
 
 From thy foes' tongues, bequeathing me to be 
 
 Handmaid to some one! For on that same day 
 
 On which thou diest, and dying put'st me from thee, 
 
 Think how the Argives will lay violent hands 
 
 On me who, with thy son, must thenceforth eat 
 
 The bread of bondage ! And some master then, 500 
 
 With bitter phrases aiming at my ear, 
 
 Will word me— "Look at Ajax' concubine! 
 
 His, who was once the mightiest of the host ; 
 
 What servitude, after such height of envy. 
 
 Is come on her!" Such things will some one say. 
 
 And I shall be the sport of destiny. 
 
 But thee and thine these sayings will bring to shame. 
 
 tremble, ere in sorrowful old age 
 
86 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Thou leav'st thy father — leav'st thy mother, too, 
 
 Who has seen so many years, and oft to Heaven 
 
 Is praying for thy return in safety home I 
 
 And pity, O king, thy son — if he, bereft 510 
 
 Of childish nurture, must survive alone. 
 
 Under unfriendly guardians— what sore trouble 
 
 Is this which, when thou diest, thou minist'rest 
 
 To him and me? For I no longer know 
 
 To whom to look, save thee ; my native land 
 
 Thy spear destroyed; and yet another stroke 
 
 Brought low my mother and my sire, to be 
 
 Inhabitants of Hades with the dead. 
 
 What home, then, could supply thy place to me? 
 
 What wealth? All my existence is in thee. 
 
 Have thou some care for me. Some mindfulness 520 
 
 A man should surely keep, of any thing 
 
 That pleased him once. Kindness is kindness' mother; 
 
 Nor can we count him gentle any more. 
 
 Whose memory fails him of a benefit. 
 
 I Mariner 
 
 Ajax, I wish that you felt pity at heart 
 
 As I do ; then you would approve her words. 
 
 Ajax 
 
 Approval she shall have from me — at least 
 If she resolves to do my bidding well. 
 
 Tecmessa 
 
 ray dear Ajax, wholly I obey. 
 
 Ajax 
 
 Bring me my son at once, that I may see him. 530 
 
 Tecmessa 
 
 1 was afraid, and let him go away. 
 
 Ajax 
 During these troubles, was it? Or what mean you? 
 
AJAX 87 
 
 Tecmessa 
 Lest he should meet you and be killed, poor child ! 
 
 AjAX 
 
 Truly it would have matched my fortunes well ! 
 
 Tecmessa 
 Oh but I watched well, and prevented it. 
 
 AjAX 
 
 Praised be the work, and your good providence ! 
 
 Tecmessa 
 How can I be of service to you now? 
 
 AjAX 
 
 Give me a sight of and a word with him. 
 
 Tecmessa 
 Yes. He is in the servants' charge, hard by. 
 
 AjAX 
 
 Why is he not yet here, though? 540 
 
 Tecmessa 
 
 Here, my boy. 
 Your father calls you. Bring him hither, you. 
 Whichever of the men is minding him. 
 
 Ajax 
 Lags he behind, or comes he at your call? 
 
 Tecmessa 
 Oh yes, the servant here is bringing him. 
 
 Enter Servant with Eurysaces. 
 
 Ajax 
 
 Lift him up, lift him hither; he will not quail 
 To gaze upon this slaughter freshly wrought, 
 If he be mine of right paternity. 
 He must begin, now, to be broken in 
 
88 SOPHOCLES 
 
 To the rough fashions of his father's way, 
 
 And grow the same in nature. O my son, 550 
 
 May you be luckier than your father! else 
 
 As good as he was ; and you will do bravely. 
 
 Ay, and already I could well envy you, 
 
 Because you have no inkling of these troubles ; 
 
 The happiest life consists in ignorance — 
 
 [For ignorance is a right painless ill] 
 
 Before you learn to grieve and to rejoice ; 
 
 But, when you are come to it, it will be for you 
 
 To approve, upon your father's enemies. 
 
 Your birth and breeding. Gentle airs, meanwhile. 
 
 Give thee repast; dally with infancy. 
 
 And be thy mother's darling! Well I know 
 
 There is no Greek will try to injure thee 560 
 
 With foul reproach, though thou be fatherless; 
 
 So watchful is the guardian I shall leave 
 
 About thee — Teucer — tireless in thy care, 
 
 Albeit now, chasing the common foe, 
 
 He wanders far. Seamen and shield-bearers ! 
 
 To you as well do I commit this charge, 
 
 And tell him my behest; to take this boy 
 
 Home, and present him there to Telamon, 
 
 And Eriboea my mother; let him be 
 
 The unremitting solace of their age, 570 
 
 [Till they attain the shades of death below.] 
 
 And for my arms — they shall not be a stake 
 
 Set for the Argives, by some arbiter — 
 
 By him, my bane ! Eurysaces, my son — 
 
 Take it — the broad impenetrable shield 
 
 Of seven-fold hide, from which thou hast thy name. 
 
 And in the knotted cordage of the loop 
 
 Entwine thy grasp. The rest shall share my grave. 
 
 — Now take the boy away immediately ; 
 
 Make the house fast, and raise no noise of crying 
 
 At the tent door. 'Tis a most piteous thing, 580 
 
 Truly — a woman ! Quicker, fasten it I 
 
 He's but a sorry leech, who mutters spells 
 
 Over a sore that must be cut away I 
 
AJAX 89 
 
 I Mariner 
 I do not like the tone of this resolve. 
 It is no pleasure that your tongue is keen. 
 
 Tecmessa 
 O my lord Ajax, what is thine intent? 
 
 A J AX 
 
 Ask not : enquire not. Self-restraint is good. 
 
 Tecmessa 
 O how my spirit sinks ! In thy child's name 
 And Heaven's, I supplicate, betray us not ! 
 
 Ajax 
 Thou art too troublesome. Art ignorant 589 
 
 That, once for all, I have cleared scores with Heaven? 
 
 Tecmessa 
 Speak not so rashly ! 
 
 Ajax 
 
 Talk to those who listen ! 
 Tecmessa 
 
 Will not thou hearken? 
 
 Ajax 
 Far too much already 
 
 Hast thou complained. 
 
 Tecmessa 
 Because I fear, my king. 
 
 Ajax 
 Take her and shut her up immediately. 
 
 Tecmessa 
 Relent, for Heaven's sake ! 
 
 Ajax 
 
 I must think thee fool. 
 To deem that thou canst school my temper, now. 
 
 The Scene closes on Ajax, Tecmessa, Eurysaces and the 
 servant. 
 
9° SOPHOCLES 
 
 Chorus. 
 I. I. 
 
 Fair Salamis, where sea-waves roar 
 
 Thou dwell'st, methinks, at peace ; 
 And ever glorious is thy shore 
 
 Among the sons of Greece; 
 Poor I, for many a weary day, 600 
 
 Tarry, each night, on Ida's grass. 
 Watching the countless seasons pass, 
 
 Worn by the long delay; 
 Comfortless — reckless — hopeless, save 
 In the drear prospect of the looming Grave. 
 
 I. 2. 
 
 And Ajax, deaf to all relief, 
 
 A frenzy-haunted man, 
 Stands by to renovate my grief; 610 
 
 Whom, when the war began. 
 Thou didst send forth, a prince in fight; 
 But now he broods in heart, alone, 
 A deep affliction to his own; 
 The triumphs of his might 
 Seem hostile all to hostile eyes; 6ao 
 
 The sons of Atreus see them, and despise. 
 
 II. 1. 
 
 Surely the mother, in her close of day, 
 She that did rear him, aged now, and grey. 
 When she shall hear his madness whispered nigh, 
 
 "Woe woe!" will be her cry! 
 No plaintive murmur of the nightingale, 
 
 No querulous bird-like wail. 
 But piercing notes will echo through the air, 630 
 
 Loud beatings of her breast, and rendings of her hoary hair. 
 
 II. 2. 
 
 Better in Hades, hidden from the day, 
 Were he, the man whose wits are far astray, 
 Who by ancestral lineage towering most 
 
 O'er the whole toil-worn host, 
 No longer in his moods remains unchanged. 
 
 But walks as one estranged. 640 
 
 Unhappy sire ! what ruin of thine own son 
 Awaits thine ear! save him, to thee and thy whole race unknown. 
 
AJAX 91 
 
 Enter Ajax, with a drawn sword. 
 
 AjAX 
 
 All things obscure the slow uncounted hours 
 
 Bring forth to light, and cover all things plain ; 
 
 And nothing is so strange it may not be, 
 
 But the stern oath — ay, and the stubborn naind 650 
 
 Yield. Even I, that was so stout of late — 
 
 Yea, hard as tempered steel, before yon woman 
 
 Felt my keen edge of resolution turned 
 
 To feminine softness ; and it pities me 
 
 To leave her widow and my child fatherless 
 
 Among their foes. But I will take my way 
 
 Down to the meadows by the shore, and bathe, 
 
 So I may cleanse my soilure, and escape 
 
 The heavy wrath of Her, the Deity; 
 
 And passing onward till I reach some spot 
 
 Untrodden, I will bury this my sword — • 
 
 Weapon most hostile — digging in the earth 
 
 Where none shall see; let Night and Hades there 660 
 
 Keep it, below ! For from the hour I gat 
 
 This gift from Hector, my arch-enemy. 
 
 Never one boon, from Argives, did I gather : 
 
 But that is a true proverb which men use, 
 
 "A foe's gifts are no gifts," and profit not. 
 
 — Wherefore in future we must learn to bend 
 
 Before the Gods, and try to reverence 
 
 The sons of Atreus. They are lords of us. 
 
 And we must needs give way to them. How else ? 
 
 For even things terrible and exceeding strong 
 
 Do homage to the worthier; thus is it 670 
 
 Snow-laden winters pass away before 
 
 Fair-fruited summer-time ; Night's gloomy round 
 
 Gives place anon to the white steeds of Day 
 
 To blaze with lustre; the fell blast of winds " 
 
 Can make cessation in the roaring main; 
 
 And Sleep, the universal vanquisher. 
 
 Sets free the captives he hath bound, at last. 
 
 And who are we, that we should not learn wisdom ? 
 
92 SOPHOCLES 
 
 I for my own part, having learnt of late 
 
 Those hateful to us are not to be hated 
 
 As though they might not soon be friends again, 680 
 
 Intend to measure, now, the services 
 
 I render to my friend, as if not so 
 
 To abide for ever; for of mortals most 
 
 Find friendship an unstable anchorage. 
 
 But as to these things all shall now be well; 
 
 Only do thou, woman, betake thee in. 
 
 And pray the Gods fully to grant fulfilment 
 
 Of what my heart desires; and you, my comrades. 
 
 Grant me the self-same favour equally. 
 
 And signify to Teucer, if he come, 
 
 To care for us, and to be good to you. 
 
 For I am going thither, where I must go; 6 go 
 
 But do ye as I bid you, and perchance 
 
 Ye may soon hear that I have gained, in spite 
 
 Of present evil, safe deliverance. 
 
 Exit. 
 
 Chorus. 
 I. 
 
 I flutter in transport, I thrill with delight ! 
 
 Pan, what ho ! — Pan, what ho ! 
 Hither from the rocky height 
 
 Cyllenian, beat by snow, 
 O Pan, sea-faring Pan, 
 
 Appear, appear ! 
 
 King of Gods who lead the measure, 
 Be present here ! 
 
 Begin the round that winds at pleasure, 
 Nysian or Cnosian ; joo 
 
 For now would I be dancing; 
 And across the Icarian sea 
 
 Let the Delos-born, advancing. 
 King Apollo, visibly 
 Stand by me, and in all things favour me ! 
 
 II. 
 
 Lo, Ares disperses a gloom from our eyes ! 
 Now again — now again 
 
AJAX 93 
 
 Cause the sun-light to arise, 
 
 And white days, free from pain, 
 O'er the swift careering fleet, 
 
 O Zeus most high ! 710 
 
 Now that Ajax, his distresses 
 
 Anew laid by. 
 All worship to the Gods addresses, 
 Honouring them, as is most meet. 
 
 'Tis a long road knows no turning, 
 And there's nothing may not be, 
 
 Now, from choler and heart-burning 
 Huge, against the Atreidae, 
 Ajax relents so unexpectedly. 
 
 Enter a Messenger. 
 Messenger 
 
 Friends, I would first announce — Teucer is here, 
 
 Straight from the Mysian heights; and entering in 720 
 
 To the assembly, is being set upon 
 
 By the Argives, all together. Having heard 
 
 That he was coming, they surrounded him 
 
 As he stepped forward, in a ring; and then 
 
 Assailed him with reproaches, right and left, 
 
 Not one of them excepted; styling him 
 
 "Kin to the madman, the conspirator 
 
 " Against the host, he should not come off clear, 
 
 Short of being stoned to death ! " It went so far. 
 
 Swords leaped to hands, drawn from their sheaths, already. 
 
 When the dispute, though it had run past bounds, 731 
 
 Ended, at instance of the seniors. 
 
 But where is Ajax, to receive my story? 
 
 One must report things to one's officers. 
 
 I Mariner 
 He is not within ; he has fitted his changed will 
 To a changed way, and is but now gone forth. 
 
 Messenger 
 Heigh ho ! 
 
 Either my sender on this errand, then, 
 Sent me too late, or I am proved a laggard ! 
 
94 SOPHOCLES 
 
 I Mariner 
 Why, what is lacking in this urgency? 740 
 
 MiSSENGER 
 
 Teucer enjoined he should by no means pass 
 Forth of the hut, before himself was present. 
 
 I Mariner 
 He is gone, I tell you; his intention turned 
 To the best of ends, that he may be relieved 
 From the Gods' wrath. 
 
 Messenger 
 
 These words are full of folly, 
 If Calchas justly can at all divine. 
 
 I Mariner 
 To what effect? What does he know of it? 
 
 Messenger 
 
 This much I know, for I was present there. 
 
 Out from the council and the circle of kings 
 
 Calchas apart from the Atridas drew, 750 
 
 Put hand in Teucer's in a friendly fashion, 
 
 And spake, and charged him, for this very day 
 
 That we now see, by all means to confine 
 
 Ajax indoors — not let him have his freedom. 
 
 If he would ever look on him alive. 
 
 For, he went on to say, on this day only 
 
 The wrath of great Athena persecutes him. 
 
 " For lives presumptuous and unprofitable 
 
 End, under sore mishaps of Heaven's contriving," 
 
 The seer declared, "whenever one born human 760 
 
 Ceases to think as fits humanity. 
 
 Now he, the moment he set out from home, 
 
 In answer to his father's good advice, 
 
 Proved himself void of sense ; for he said to him, 
 
 ' Son, at the spear's point seek thou victory ; 
 
 ' But seek it, always, with the blessing of God.' 
 
 But he replied vainly and vauntingly; 
 
AJAX 95 
 
 ' My father, backed by Gods, a man worth nothing 
 
 ' Might win the day ; but by the hair I trust 
 
 'To pluck this glory, though they stand aloof.' 
 
 So high he boasted; then again, in answer 770 
 
 To great Athena, when she cheered him on, 
 
 Saying 'Turn thy hand upon the foe, and slay,' 
 
 Straight he returned her back a perilous word, 
 
 Unmeet for utterance : ' Queen, stand thou behind 
 
 'The other Argives; where we keep the ring, 
 
 ' The battle never shall break out of it ! ' 
 
 He by such words has from the Goddess earned 
 
 Implacable wrath at his o'erweening pride; 
 
 But if he is alive this day, perhaps — 
 
 God willing — we may be his saviours." 
 
 So far the seer ; and Teucer instantly 7 8° 
 
 From the assembly sent me with this charge 
 
 For you to follow. But if I have failed. 
 
 And Calchas dotes not, Ajax lives no more. 
 
 I Mariner 
 
 O miserable Tecmessa ! Come and see — 
 Poor child! — what news this fellow is telUng us! 
 It will go hard but this will cause some sorrow. 
 
 Enter Tecmessa. 
 
 Tecmessa 
 
 Why do you rouse me from my seat again, 
 Weary, just eased from my persistent griefs? 
 
 I Mariner 
 
 Hearken to this man, how he brings with him 
 
 News about Ajax which distresses me. 79° 
 
 Tecmessa 
 
 sir, what say you? Are we ruined indeed? 
 
 Messenger 
 
 1 know not your condition ; but of Ajax— 
 If now abroad, I am not sure of him. 
 
96 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Tecmessa 
 
 He is abroad; and I — in agony 
 To hear you ! 
 
 Messenger 
 
 Teucer gives command, to keep him 
 Within the tent, not let him forth alone. 
 
 Tecmessa 
 And where is Teucer, and what makes him say it? 
 
 Messenger 
 
 He is just arrived ; and he suspects, if Ajax 
 Go forth just now, 'twill be the death of him. 
 
 Tecmessa 
 Me miserable! Who could have told him so? 800 
 
 Messenger 
 
 The soothsayer, Thestor's son, who on this day 
 Makes prophecy of life or death to him. 
 
 Tecmessa 
 
 Alas, O friends, stand between me and ruin ! 
 And hurry, some, for Teucer to come quickly, 
 And some the western, some the eastward bays 
 Seek, and search out the unlucky track of him. 
 For now I see my lord has cheated me. 
 And from his old affection cast me out. 
 
 me, what shall I do, child ? not stand idle ! 
 
 Follow I will, wherever I am able. 810 
 
 Let us begone, let us be busy; this 
 
 Is no time to sit still, when we are trying 
 
 To save a man that's rushing on his death. 
 
 I Mariner 
 
 1 am off, and not in word alone; I'll shew it; 
 For speed of act, and of feet too, shall follow. 
 
 Exeunt. 
 
__ A J AX 97 
 
 The scene changes to a lonely part of the sea-shore. Enter 
 AjAX, who fixes his sword in the ground. 
 
 AjAX 
 
 Now he stands fast, my executioner ; 
 
 Most trenchant so — if there were leisure left 
 
 To reason about it ; being, first, Hector's gift. 
 
 The most unwelcome foeman to my sight 
 
 And worst detested ; he is fixed, besides. 
 
 In hostile soil, the Troad; newly edged 
 
 Upon the whetting-stone that feeds on steel ; 820 
 
 And I myself fixed him, and set him well, 
 
 Of my quick death a most kind instrument ! 
 
 So we are ready ; and in due course thou first, 
 
 Zeus, as is right, befriend me ! I shall demand 
 
 No mighty boon of thee; send us some herald 
 
 To carry the ill news to Teucer's ear, 
 
 That he may raise me, first, where I have fallen 
 
 Upon this sword, while my blood reeks on it. 
 
 Lest I be seen first by some enemy, 
 
 And be cast out, a prey for dogs and fowl, 830 
 
 Headlong. So much, Zeus, I implore of thee 
 
 Hermes, our convoy to the under-world. 
 
 Alike I summon ; when upon this blade 
 
 With no distracted or irresolute leap 
 
 I force a mortal passage through my side. 
 
 Give me good rest ! And to my aid I call 
 
 The Erinyes, with slow persistent feet, 
 
 Stern, virgin ever, ever witnessing 
 
 All sufferings among mortals, to regard 
 
 How I by the Atridse's malice perish ! 840 
 
 Whom let them seize on most perniciously. 
 
 Pernicious and abandoned utterly. 
 
 Even as they see me abandoned. Up, 
 
 You swift avenging Furies, glut yourselves. 
 
 Spare nothing, on the general host ! — Thou too, 
 
 Driving thy chariot up the steep of heaven. 
 
 When thou revisitest my native land, 
 
 Y. A. 7 
 
98 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Sun, draw thy gilded rein, and tell of me, 
 
 My woes and ruin, to the old man my sire, 850 
 
 And that unhappy dame who nurtured me. 
 
 How will that sad one utter loud laments 
 
 To the whole city, when she hears this tale ! 
 
 But idle wailings are of no use now ; 
 
 I must to work, and briskly. O Death, Death, 
 
 Come, look me in the face ! And yet with thee 
 
 I can hold converse when I meet thee, there ; 
 
 But you, the instant beams of shining day 
 
 And the careering Sun, once more I name. 
 
 And ye shall never hear my voice again. 860 
 
 O Light ! O sacred soil of Salamis 
 
 My native land I O altar of my home ! 
 
 Thou glorious Athens, and thy sons, my playmates. 
 
 You springs, you rivers here, and plains of Troy — 
 
 You I address — Comrades of mine, farewell ! 
 
 This his last word Ajax bestows on you; 
 
 The next is greeting to the Shades below. 
 
 Falls on his sword and dies. 
 
 Enter the first Semi- Chorus. 
 
 1 Mariner 
 
 Every pother 
 
 Brings another 
 Following hard upon its brother. 
 For where, where, where have I been? 
 
 Where have I not? 
 
 And there's never a spot 
 Knows of my knowing as well what it hath seen. 
 
 Hilloa ! I hear a noise, once more. 870 
 
 Enter the second Semi-Chorus. 
 
 2 Mariner 
 
 Hilloa ! 
 Only ourselves, your shipmates. 
 
 I Mariner 
 
 Well, what cheer? 
 
A/AX 99 
 
 2 Mariner 
 West of the fleet we have scoured the country-side. 
 
 1 Mariner 
 And have you found? 
 
 2 Mariner 
 
 Plenty of trouble, truly ; 
 And nothing more to see. 
 
 I Mariner 
 
 Nor eastward, neither, 
 In any quarter, is the man in sight. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Is there no fisher bent on toil, 
 Busied all night in quest of some sea-spoil, 88o 
 
 Is there no Goddess from the Olympian hill. 
 No Nymph of any Bosporus-feeding rill, 
 To tell if they have seen our rude-souled king 
 Anywhere wandering ? 
 'Tis hard for me. 
 Roving about so long and painfully, 
 Never to hail him with a favouring breeze, 
 Nor even sight the madman, where on earth he is ! 890 
 
 Tecmessa {behind) 
 
 me unhappy ! 
 
 I Mariner 
 
 Hark ! whose cry was that 
 Came from the grove close to us? 
 
 Tecmessa {behind) 
 
 Woe is me ! 
 
 I Mariner 
 
 1 see the ill-fated bride, our prisoner, 
 
 Tecmessa 'tis, who has been thus whelmed in grief 
 
 7 — 2 
 
100 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Tecmessa 
 I faint, I die ! Friends, I am all undone ! 
 
 I Mariner 
 What is it? 
 
 Tecmessa 
 
 Here is Ajax newly slain. 
 Lying in a heap, with a sword under him. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 O my far home, I may not see again ! 900 
 
 Oh, thou didst kill, my chief, 
 Me, O rash heart, thy comrade on the main ! 
 
 O woman full of grief! 
 
 Tecmessa 
 Yes, here he lies ; and we may wail for him. 
 
 I Mariner 
 By whose hand could he do it, hapless one? 
 
 Tecmessa 
 
 By his own, plainly; planted in the ground, 
 This sword on which he lies, accuses him. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 O my hard luck ! Why shed thy life-blood thus, 
 
 Devoid of help from us? 910 
 
 And I the utter dullard, utter dunce, 
 Never guessed once I — 
 Where lies our Ajax? where 
 The man of boding name, immitigable by prayer? 
 
 Tecmessa 
 
 He is not for your sight. Rather, I will shroud him, 
 From head to foot, in this enfolding robe; 
 For nobody that loved him could endure 
 To look upon him, spouting livid blood 
 
A/ AX 10 1 
 
 Out at his nostrils, and from the red wound 
 
 Of his self-ministered murder. — O my heart ! 920 
 
 What shall I do ? — Who, of all friends, shall raise thee ? — 
 
 Where's Teucer ? Ah how timely, if he came, 
 
 Would he arrive now, to compose the limbs 
 
 Of this his brother who has perished ! O 
 
 Unhappy Ajax ! Whither, from what state. 
 
 Art thou now fallen ! how worthy to receive 
 
 Tribute of mourning even from enemies ! 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Was this thy meaning, this — 
 At last — rashly obdurate— to fulfil 
 An evil doom of infinite miseries? 
 
 For this, all night, and in the daylight, still, 9.50 
 
 O ruthless heart, didst thou send out thy groans, 
 Defying Atreus' sons 
 In thy despair? 
 Truly that hour was author large of woes, 
 When for the arms [Achilles used to wear] 
 Strife of the bravest hearts and foremost hands arose ! 
 
 Tecmessa 
 Ah, woe for me ! 
 
 I Mariner 
 
 Sorrow so notable 
 Goes to the heart, I know. 
 
 Tecmessa 
 
 Woe, woe for me ! 
 
 I Mariner 
 
 I well believe you might cry woe twice over, 940 
 
 Lady, being just bereft of such a lover ! 
 
 Tecmessa 
 It is for you to think, for me to feel. 
 
 I Mariner 
 I own it. 
 
SOPHOCLES 
 
 Tecmessa 
 
 Ah my child, under what yoke 
 Of bondage— to what taskmasters we go ! 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Oh, thou art prophesying of distress 
 
 Nameless — in this lament; 
 Work of the twins of Atreus, pitiless! 
 
 Which may some God prevent ! 
 
 Tecmessa 
 But for the Gods it had not happened thus. 950 
 
 I Mariner 
 They wrought a sorrow far too sore to bear. 
 
 Tecmessa 
 
 Jove's awful daughter, Pallas, brings to pass, 
 To please Ulysses, all this misery. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Now he exults in his black-visaged mood, 
 
 The man of patient blood, 
 And laughs loud laughter at these frenzied griefs; 
 And with him the high chiefs — 
 Woe, woe is me ! 
 Are laughing as they hear, the twin Atreidse. 960 
 
 Tecmessa 
 
 So let them laugh, and glory in this man's ruin. 
 
 Perhaps, though living they would none of him, 
 
 In the spear's press they may bewail him, dead. 
 
 Men of perverse opinion do not know 
 
 The excellence of what is in their hands. 
 
 Till some one dash it from them. \ Sweet to them, 
 
 Bitter it is to me, that he is dead. 
 
 While for himself 'tis pleasant. For of that 
 
 Which he desired, he did possess himself, 
 
 Death, as he willed it. Therefore over him 
 
AJAX I03 
 
 Why should they triumph? He by Heaven's hand has 
 fallen, 970 
 
 Not by theirs, never ! Let Ulysses, then, 
 Vainly exult; for Ajax is no more 
 Under their power, but is past beyond them — 
 Leaving me anguish, and laments for him. 
 
 Teucer {within) 
 Woe, woe for me ! 
 
 I Mariner 
 
 Hush ! for I seem to hear 
 The voice of Teucer crying in a strain 
 Not dissonant with this calamity. 
 
 Enter Teucer. 
 
 Teucer 
 
 O dearest Ajax, O my kinsman true. 
 
 And hast thou fared as the report prevails? 
 
 I Mariner 
 Of that be sure, Teucer; the man is dead. 
 
 Teucer 
 Alack therefore, for my so heavy chance ! 980 
 
 I Mariner 
 Since it is so — 
 
 Teucer 
 
 Alas, alas for me 1 
 
 I Mariner 
 
 There's room to groan. 
 
 Teucer 
 O overhasty blow ! 
 
 I Mariner 
 Too hasty, Teucer. 
 
I04 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Teucer 
 
 Out, alas — Ay surely, 
 What of his child? Where, in all Troia, is he? 
 
 I Mariner 
 Alone, by the tents. 
 
 Teucer 
 
 Will you not fetch him, then, 
 With all speed hither, lest some enemy 
 Should snatch him up, like whelp of lioness 
 Reft of her mate ? Go, hurry, lend a hand ; 
 All use to insult over the prostrate dead. 
 
 I Mariner 
 
 Ay, Teucer; and indeed before he died 990 
 
 Our master left the charge to you, to watch 
 Over his offspring, which you now perform. 
 
 Teucer 
 
 O of all sights that ever I surveyed 
 
 Most grievous ! O of all my journeyings 
 
 The journey most afflicting to my breast, 
 
 On which I came but now, soon as I heard 
 
 Thy fate, O dearest Ajax — following thee, 
 
 And tracking out thy steps ! For a swift rumour. 
 
 As from some God, of thee, how thou hadst perished, 
 
 Went throughout all the Achaians; hearing it, 1000 
 
 I, miserable, was groaning to myself 
 
 Yet being afar ; now seeing, I am undone. 
 
 O woe is me ! Go and uncover him. 
 
 That I may view the whole calamity. 
 
 O sight of horror and fell hardihood. 
 
 What sorrows has thy withering sown for me? 
 
 For whither — to what people — can I go, 
 
 Who never in thy troubles succoured thee ? 
 
 Will Telamon, mine and thy father too, 
 
 As mildly, as benignly, welcome me, 
 
A/AX 105 
 
 Returning without thee? Much chance he will; loio 
 
 Whose wont it is not even when prosperous 
 
 Ever to smile at all more graciously. 
 
 What will he spare to utter? What reproach 
 
 Will he not lay on me — the bastard — me — 
 
 Child of the war-spear, who betrayed, through baseness, 
 
 Thee, dearest Ajax — yea through cowardice, 
 
 Or of design, that after thou wert dead 
 
 I might obtain thy lordship, and thy hall? 
 
 A man of choleric mood, sullen with age, 
 
 Will say such things, working himself up to quarrel 
 
 At nothing ! And in the end, a banished man. 
 
 Bondman, for free, proclaimed, I shall be cast 1020 
 
 Out of the land. So shall I fare at home; 
 
 And here in Troia many enemies 
 
 And scanty aids have I. And from thy death 
 
 I reap all this ! Ah me, what shall I do ? 
 
 How shall I drag thee off, O hapless one, 
 
 From this cruel gleaming point, by dint of which 
 
 Thou didst expire? Sawest thou how, in time, 
 
 Even though slain, Hector would' slaughter thee ? 
 
 In heaven's name, note the fortune of this pair ! 
 
 Hector, to whom by this man it was given, 
 
 Pinned by a girdle to the chariot rings, 1030 
 
 Was torn along, till he breathed out his life; 
 
 While Ajax, who accepted this from him. 
 
 By it has perished, falling on it, and dying. 
 
 Was not Erinys forger of the blade, 
 
 And Hades of that girdle, craftsman dire ? 
 
 These accidents, and everything beside, 
 
 Are snares, I would aver, Gods lay for men ; 
 
 Let him in whose opinion this sounds strangely 
 
 Keep of the other counsel : I keep mine. 
 
 I Mariner 
 
 Do not discourse at length ; only take thought 1040 
 
 How you will get this body under ground, 
 And what you have to plead; for I behold 
 
io6 SOPHOCLES 
 
 An adversary coming; one full likely 
 To triumph, like a caitiff, in mishap. 
 
 Teucer 
 Which of the captains is it you espy? 
 
 I Mariner 
 Menelaus; he on whose account we sailed. 
 
 Teucer 
 I see him ; near, he is not hard to know. 
 
 Enter Menelaus. 
 Menelaus 
 
 Fellow, I forbid thee to lend hand to bear 
 That corpse out for the interring; let it he. 
 
 Teucer 
 What moves you to the expense of so much breath? 
 
 Menelaus 
 My pleasure; his too, who commands the host. 1050 
 
 Teucer 
 Please you to say what reason is alleged ? 
 
 Menelaus 
 
 Because we meant to bring him to the field 
 
 A friend and aider to the Achaian side, 
 
 And found him worse than Phrygian in the trial ; 
 
 Who could contrive to murder the whole host, 
 
 And sally at night to put them to the sword ; 
 
 And had not some God quenched his enterprise, 
 
 Ours had the lot been, which has fallen to him, 
 
 Now to lie dead, by a most shameful fate. 
 
 While he lived on. But as it is, a God 1060 
 
A/AX 107 
 
 Turned the encounter of his violence 
 
 On sheep and cattle. Wherefore, as for him, 
 
 There is no man possessed of so much power 
 
 As to entomb his body in a grave ; 
 
 But cast out prone upon the yellow sands 
 
 To the seabirds he shall become a prey. 
 
 — Never uprear your crest and threaten me ! 
 
 Even if we failed to govern him in life, 
 
 Even if he never would by any means 
 
 Hearken, while living, to a word of mine, 
 
 Our hands, at least, shall in despite of you 
 
 Hold and dispose of and control him dead. 1070 
 
 Yet is it factious, when a common man 
 
 Turns a deaf ear to those set over him. 
 
 For never in a city can the laws 
 
 Be well sustained, where reverence is impaired, 
 
 Nor can an army be discreetly ruled. 
 
 Having no bulwark of respect or shame. 
 
 No ; though he swell his body to a size. 
 
 It is becoming to a man, to think 
 
 How by a little evil he may fall. 
 
 He who is modest — ay, and reverent — 
 
 Be well assured — is in security; 1080 
 
 But where excess and license range unstayed — 
 
 Deem of that city that, with all sails set. 
 
 It must at some time founder. Let me keep 
 
 Seasonable fear; and let us not suppose 
 
 That, doing merely what will give us pleasure, 
 
 We shall not pay by troubles in full measure. 
 
 These things wag on by turns. This man was once 
 
 A glorious braggart ; it is my day now ; 
 
 And I prohibit you to bury him, 
 
 Lest in so doing you dig yourself a grave. 1090 
 
 I Mariner 
 
 Menelaus, do not you lay down 
 Maxims of wisdom, and become yourself 
 A scorner of the dead ! 
 
io8 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Teucer 
 
 Sirs, for the future 
 T should not be surprised at any man 
 Who, being naught by birth, behaves amiss. 
 When those who seem to be of noble race 
 Offend so widely in their oratory. 
 Come now, repeat that preface ; sayest thou 
 Thou didst find him, and bring him, as ally 
 To the Achaians hither ? Sailed he not 
 Forth of himself, in his own mastery? 
 When wert thou made a captain over him ? 
 Where lies thy title to command the folk iioo 
 
 He led to fight? As Sparta's king thou camest, 
 Not as our master. There's no room to say 
 It was laid down in any rule of state 
 That thou shouldst order him, more than he thee. 
 Another's officer thou sailedst hither. 
 Not in command of the whole host, that thou 
 Shouldst ever be to Ajax general. 
 Rule those thou rulest, and find fault with them 
 In good set terms ; but this man, whether thou 
 Or the other general prohibit it, 
 I will deposit duly in the tomb, 
 
 Unfrightened by your clamours. He, I tell you, mo 
 Not for your wife's sake ever went to war. 
 Like some poor hind, laden with drudgery, 
 But for the oath's that bound him : not at all 
 For you ; mere ciphers he regarded not ! 
 Now fetch more heralds, fetch your general. 
 And then come on ! For all your blustering, 
 You being what you are, I will not waver. 
 
 I Mariner 
 
 I do not love such talk at all the more 
 Amid misfortunes ; hard words carry a sting. 
 Though they be more than just. 
 
AJAX 109 
 
 Menelaus 
 
 The bowman seems 
 To be — not humble. 11 20 
 
 Teucer 
 
 Yes, the art I practise 
 Is no mechanic art. 
 
 Menelaus 
 
 Get you a shield, 
 And we shall see big boasting. 
 
 Teucer 
 
 Lightly armed 
 I were a match for you in panoply. 
 
 Menelaus 
 How fierce the spirit is, which is in your tongue I 
 
 Teucer 
 Oh, with the right, high mettle is not amiss. 
 
 Menelaus 
 Right is it, he, my murderer, should find favour? 
 
 Teucer 
 
 Your murderer! that's curious, that you 
 Should be alive, when murdered ! 
 
 Menelaus 
 
 Yes, a God 
 Keeps me in life. But dead I were, for him. 
 
 Teucer 
 Then don't dishonour Gods — if Gods have kept you. 
 
 Menelaus 
 Is it I, who quarrel with Heaven's ordinance? 1130 
 
no SOPHOCLES 
 
 Teucer 
 Yes, if you come and hinder buryings. 
 
 Menelaus 
 Only of my own foes, I; for that's disgraceful. 
 
 Teucer 
 Did Ajax ever rank among your foes ? 
 
 Menelaus 
 He hated me, and I him ; and that you knew. 
 
 Teucer 
 I know you robbed him, by your canvassing. 
 
 Menelaus 
 What happened was the judges' fault, not mine. 
 
 Teucer 
 
 Oh, many wrongs you might procure, you know, 
 By hidden arts of wronging. 
 
 Menelaus 
 
 After that. 
 Some one shall dearly rue ! 
 
 Teucer 
 
 No more, I fancy, 
 Than we shall furnish cause for penitence. 
 
 Menelaus 
 Look, in one word, he is not to be buried. 1140 
 
 Teucer 
 I say, he shall be buried instantly ! 
 
 Menelaus 
 
 Once I beheld a man in language brave 
 Who egged on seamen in a storm to sail, 
 
AJAX 1 1 1 
 
 Who had no power of utterance left in him, 
 When he was caught in the storm's violence ; 
 But crept under a blanket, and gave leave 
 To any of the crew to trample on him. 
 And so thee also, and thy brawling tongue, 
 From a small cloud out-blowing, some great storm 
 May come to quell, for all thy clamorousness. 
 
 Teucer 
 
 So too have I set eyes upon a man 1150 
 
 So full of folly, that he made a mock 
 
 Of troubles of his neighbours; and then one 
 
 Answering to me, and like me in his mood. 
 
 Looking upon him, said a word like this ; 
 
 " Sir, do not wrong the dead ; for if you do, 
 
 You certainly will have to pay for it ! " 
 
 In such wise did he caution, to his face, 
 
 A man misguided. And that man I see; 
 
 And 'tis no other, as appears to me, 
 
 Than thou thyself. Is not my riddle easy? 
 
 Menelaus 
 
 I am going. It is disgraceful to be heard 
 Chiding with words, when it is in one's power 
 To use compulsion. 1160 
 
 Exit. 
 
 Teucer 
 
 Go thy ways. To me 
 It is the worst disgrace to have to hear 
 A shallow man, prating sheer foolishness. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 This great strife approaches an issue. 
 Only, O Teucer, with all speed hasten 
 Some deep hollow to find, where Ajax 
 May in his grave have rest— by mortals 
 Unforgotten— his mouldering grave. 
 
 Tecmessa comes forward with Eurysaces. 
 
SOPHOCLES 
 
 Teucer 
 
 And in good time here are his wife and child, 
 
 Waiting to deck a tomb for the poor corpse. 117° 
 
 Come hither, boy; stand near, and put thy hand 
 
 On the sire's form who gat thee, suppliant-wise, 
 
 And seat thee as in sanctuary, and hold 
 
 Locks of her hair, and mine, and of thine own, 
 
 For votive offerings. And if by force 
 
 Any of the host should tear thee from this body. 
 
 Evil, in evil, may he be cast out. 
 
 And find no burial, utterly cut off 
 
 Down to the root of his whole family, 
 
 Even as I shear this curl. Here, take it, boy; 
 
 And keep it, and let no man make thee stir; n8o 
 
 Kneel there; hold fast! And do not you stand round. 
 
 Like women, and not men ; but second us. 
 
 Till I take order for his funeral — 
 
 Though nobody permits me — and return. 
 
 Exit. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 When, ah when will come relief? 
 
 When will end 
 All the tale of tortured years — 
 
 Years that send 
 Over me their waves of doom 
 
 Without cease, 
 Labours, brandishing of spears, 
 
 As I roam 
 Over Troy's wide plain, the giief 1190 
 
 And shame of Greece? 
 
 I. 
 
 O that into the dim vast 
 
 Of the wind, 
 Or the common gulf of life, 
 
 He had past 
 Long before, the Greek who first 
 
 Openly 
 
AJAX .113 
 
 Taught the art of arms accurst — 
 
 Public strife — 
 Toils on toils, alas ! for he 
 Hath ruined mankind ! 
 
 II. I. 
 
 He made me to be a stranger to the joys 
 
 Of the flower-coronal, of the wine-cup deep; 1200 
 
 He robbed me cruelly of the sweet flute-noise, 
 
 And barred me from the nightly pleasure of sleep ; 
 Yea from love, woe is me, from love he severed me ; 
 
 And all uncared for, here I lie — my hair 
 Steeped in thick falling dews continually — 
 
 Bethinking me of Troy, the caviser of my care. 1210 
 
 II. ■,. 
 
 And Ajax' arm hitherto shielded me 
 
 From hostile weapons, and the fears of night ; 
 But now he yields to a dark destiny; 
 
 And what is left— what, that can give delight? 
 O that I stood where sea-washed promontories 
 
 O'erhang the deep, under the beetling shore 1220 
 
 Of Sunium's woods, so I might hail Her glories. 
 
 And waft one welcoming word to sacred Athens o'er ! 
 
 Enter Teucer. 
 
 Teucer 
 
 I came with haste, seeing the general, 
 Agamemnon, hurrying hither: it is plain. 
 Sinister threats he means to launch at us. 
 
 Enter Agamemnon. 
 
 Agamemnon 
 
 Is it you, they tell me, with impunity 
 
 Venture to snarl in this fierce fashion at me, 
 
 You, I repeat, the captive woman's child? 
 
 Had but your mother been well-born, methinks 
 
 You would have boasted loftily indeed, 
 
 And gone your gates on tiptoe, when, being nothing, 1230 
 
 You stand against me on behalf of one 
 
 Who is as nothing; swearing that I came 
 
114 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Neither as general nor admiral 
 
 To you, or the Achaians, but, you tell me, 
 
 Himself being in command Ajax set sail ! 
 
 Is not this monstrous for a serf to say? 
 
 What was the man, of whom you have croaked out 
 
 Such insolence? On what service did he go. 
 
 What post did he maintain, where I was missing? 
 
 Are there no men among the Greeks but he ? 
 
 To our cost, seemingly, did we proclaim 
 
 Contests to the Argives for Achilles' arms, 1240 
 
 If, come what will, Teucer is to call us villains, 
 
 And even when beaten you will never deign 
 
 To accept the general judgment of the Court, 
 
 But either go on pelting with abuse. 
 
 Or slyly trying to stab us, when you lose ! 
 
 With such behaviour there can never be 
 
 Establishing of any ordinance, 
 
 If we must thrust out those who rightly win 
 
 To bring the hindmost forward. But all this 
 
 Must be kept under; for the trustiest men 1250 
 
 Are not the broad of breast and shoulder-blade ; 
 
 But the well-judging everywhere prevail; 
 
 And underneath the lash, light though it be, 
 
 The big-ribbed ox plods straight along the way. 
 
 Which same corrective shortly, I perceive. 
 
 Except you pick up some sagacity, 
 
 Will visit you ; who for a man that now 
 
 No longer is, but is become a shade. 
 
 Swagger your fill and spit out insolence ! 
 
 Will you not be discreet? Will you not mind 
 
 Your own extraction, and— bring in with you 
 
 Some other man, free born, to say your say 1260 
 
 Before us, in your stead? Since, when you talk, 
 
 I cannot comprehend you ; in a word, 
 
 I have not learnt the outlandish dialect ! 
 
 I Mariner 
 
 Would that you both had wit to be discreet — 
 Since better may not be to say to you. 
 
AJAX IIS 
 
 Teucer 
 
 Alas, how quick the gratitude in men 
 Fades and is found a traitor to the dead, 
 If this man, here, not even in small measure, 
 Ajax, retains a memory of thee, 
 For whom thou hast done good service in the fight 
 Often, and to the spear proffered thy life! 1270 
 
 Truly all these things are past and thrown aside. 
 — Thou prater of unprofitable talk, 
 Dost thou no longer recollect the time 
 When, shut up close behind your battlements. 
 Just in extremity of overthrow, 
 Ajax, unaided, came and rescued you. 
 The fire already blazing all about 
 The topmost rowers' benches of the fleet. 
 And Hector in mid leap upon the hulls 
 Over your trenches? Who averted that? 
 Was it not Ajax did it, who, thou sayest, 1280 
 
 Nowhere so much as stirred one step to aid? 
 Do you confess he did his duty there? 
 And when again he singly, in single fight. 
 Chosen by lot, and of his own free will, 
 Entered the lists with Hector, — when the lot 
 He cast into the midst no skulker proved, 
 No lump of sodden soil, but such as promised 
 Lightly to leap first from the crested helm — 
 'Twas he that did it! And I too was there. 
 The serf, the foreign mother's progeny- 
 Wretch, with what forehead dar'st thou mutter it? 1290 
 Hast thou forgot thy grandsire's parentage. 
 Old Felops, a barbarian Phrygian born? 
 Or Atreus, who begat thee— how he served 
 His brother a most execrable meal 
 Of his own children ? Thou thyself wert born 
 Son of a Cretan mother, whose father found 
 A strange lover in her arms, and packed her off, 
 Food for the fishes! And dost thou, being such, 
 
 8—2 
 
ii6 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Taunt with his origin a man Hke me, 
 
 Sprung on the father's side from Telamon, 
 
 Who, being foremost of the army, won 1300 
 
 And took my mother to his bed, by birth 
 
 A princess, daughter of Laomedon, 
 
 Whom as a guerdon set apart for him 
 
 Alcmena's offspring gave him? And shall I, 
 
 Born of two noble parents, and in this 
 
 Myself most noble, shame my own kith and kin. 
 
 Whom when laid -low by such a load of cares 
 
 Thou dost thrust out unburied, and not blush 
 
 To avow the deed? Be well assured of it, 
 
 If you do cast him out, us three, besides. 
 
 You will cast out lying dead along with him ! 
 
 It would become me better to be slain 1310 
 
 Fighting for him before the eyes of men, 
 
 Than for your wife — or rather, brother's wife; 
 
 Wherefore look to it ; not my case, but your own ; 
 
 Since, if you injure me in anything, 
 
 The time will come, you will be glad to choose 
 
 To play the recreant, before braving me. 
 
 Enter Ulysses. 
 
 I Mariner 
 
 My lord Ulysses, I would have you know 
 You have come in season, if you come to help 
 In setting straight, not in embroiling us. 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 What is it, sirs? I heard a long way off 
 The Atridae, loud, over our mighty dead. 
 
 Agamemnon 
 
 And have not we, from this man, had to hear 1320 
 
 Words, lord Ulysses, the most scandalous? 
 
A/AX 117 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 How so? for I can hardly blame a man 
 Who, being reviled, joins railing issue. 
 
 Agamemnon 
 
 Scandals 
 He heard ; for he was acting such to me. 
 
 Ulysses 
 What did he to you that could injure you? 
 
 Agamemnon 
 
 He swears he will not suffer that this corpse 
 Should lack a tomb, but in my teeth will bury it. 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 Then — may a friend speak truth, and yet keep stroke 
 As well as ever in the boat with you ? 
 
 Agamemnon 
 
 Speak; I were foolish else; for I account 1330 
 
 Of all the Argives you my greatest friend. 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 Then, hear me. Do not, in the name of Heaven, 
 
 Harden your heart, thus cruelly to expose 
 
 Ajax unburied; nor let violence 
 
 Drive you, by any means, to hate so deeply 
 
 As to tread justice under. Why, to me 
 
 This man was once of the whole host worst foe 
 
 After I won Achilles' arms ; and yet, 
 
 Being such to me, I would not so far wrong him, 
 
 As not to say that I beheld in him 
 
 The foremost of the Argives — of us all, 1340 
 
 Saving Achilles, who came here to Troy. 
 
 Not justly, then, would you dishonour him ; 
 
 For against him your trespass would not be, 
 
 But against Heaven's decrees. The man of merit. 
 
ii8 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Once he be dead, it is ill done to harm, 
 However you may hate him. 
 
 Agamemnon 
 
 Is it you 
 Thus fight for him, Ulysses, against me ? 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 Yes ; but remember that I hated him, 
 While I could hate with honour. 
 
 Agamemnon 
 
 Is it wrong, then. 
 You should go on, and trample on him dead ? 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 Do not exult, Atrides, in advantage, 
 That brings dishonour. 
 
 Agamemnon 
 
 It is difficult 
 For monarchs to avoid all sacrilege. 1350 
 
 Ulysses 
 But easy to defer to friends' good counsel. 
 
 Agamemnon 
 Your " man of merit " should obey, by right, 
 Those in command. 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 Peace ! you command then truly 
 When you surrender to your friends. 
 
 Agamemnon 
 
 Remember 
 To what a man you shew this favour. 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 Yes, 
 He was a foeman, but magnanimous, 
 
AJAX 119 
 
 Agamemnon 
 
 What are you doing, reverencing thus 
 The body of an enemy ? 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 With me 
 The valour far outweighs the enmity. 
 
 Agamemnon 
 Men of your sort the world calls feather-headed ! 
 
 Ulysses 
 Well, many are first friends, then bitter to us. 
 
 Agamemnon 
 And do you like to have such friends as that? 1360 
 
 Ulysses 
 A flinty heart I do not use to like. 
 
 Agamemnon 
 You will have us to appear afraid this day. 
 
 Ulysses 
 Rather, just men ; as all the Greeks will say. 
 
 Agamemnon 
 And do you bid me let them bury the dead? 
 
 Ulysses 
 Yes, for I too must lie on that same bed. 
 
 Agamemnon 
 All are alike ; all toil for their own profit. 
 
 Ulysses 
 And for whom should I toil, before myself? 
 
SOPHOCLES 
 
 Agamemnon 
 It shall be known, then, as your doing, not mine. 
 
 Ul,YSSES 
 
 So that you will but do it, anyhow, 
 You will do worthily. 
 
 Agamemnon 
 
 O, be sure of it, 1370 
 
 To you I would concede even more than this ; 
 But this man, dead or living equally. 
 Shall have my utmost hatred. As for you — 
 Do what you please. Exit. 
 
 I Mariner 
 
 Ulysses ! He who says 
 That you are not born wise, being what we see you. 
 He is a fool ! 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 And for the future now 
 To Teucer here do I declare myself 
 As much a friend, as I was once a foe. 
 And I would join in burying this your dead. 
 And aid you in your charge, failing in nought 
 That men should render to their worthiest. 1380 
 
 Teucer 
 
 Worthiest Ulysses, I can praise you, wholly. 
 
 In what I say. You disappointed, much. 
 
 My expectations; for, of all the Greeks 
 
 You, being Ajax' greatest enemy. 
 
 Alone, in act, stood by him ; and in this presence 
 
 Had not the heart to do foul ignominy, 
 
 The living to the dead ; as he has done — 
 
 This general, this infatuate fool, who comes— 
 
 He and his brother — and would cast Ajax out 
 
 Injuriously, robbed of his burial. 
 
AJAX 121 
 
 Wherefore may the elder Father of high Heaven, 
 
 Erinys, with unfading memory, 1390 
 
 And end-accomplishing Justice, wither them, 
 
 Evil, with evil, even as they sought 
 
 To cast out Ajax with unmerited shame ! 
 
 — And now I hesitate to suffer you, 
 
 son of old Laertes, to set hand 
 To this interment, lest unto the dead 
 
 1 do a thing displeasing ; otherwise 
 
 Help us and welcome — yes, and when you wish 
 
 To carry any soldier to the grave. 
 
 We will raise no objection. For the rest 
 
 I will provide; and be assured, we deem you 
 
 A " man of merit." 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 Well, it was my wish. 
 But if you do not choose that I should do it, 1400 
 
 I bow to your decision, and will go. 
 
 Exit. 
 
 Teucer 
 
 Enough ; for time and to spare 
 
 Already has been spun out. 
 
 Now hurry, you to prepare 
 
 A deep-dug hollow, and you 
 
 To set up, ready to hand, 
 
 A tripod, girded about 
 
 With fire, on high in the field, 
 
 For the laving rites that are due. 
 
 Then fetch from the tent, one band, 
 
 The harness, all but the shield. 141° 
 
 But do thou, boy, lovingly 
 
 Lay hold along with me 
 
 Of thy dead father's side. 
 
 And lift him, with all thy pains ; 
 
 For still the dark black tide 
 
 Wells up from the warm veins. 
 
 Come, all you that assume 
 
 To attend as friends ; come, pay 
 
 Service here to the one 
 
 At all points worthy ; than whom— 
 
SOPHOCLES 
 
 Than Ajax — while living, I say, 
 
 In the whole world better was none ! 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Full many a thing mortals may know, who see ; 
 
 But ere they see them, none 
 
 Is able to look on 
 Into the future, what his lot shall be. 1420 
 
 Exeunt omnes. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 52. I do not follow Dindorfs punctuation, but omit the comma 
 after /SoXoCffa. 
 
 77- This, the usually accepted rendering, does not altogether 
 satisfy me. But it seems better than to suppose, with Dale, that the 
 sense is interrupted . 
 
 183. This is the first of several passages in which I have derived 
 help from the prose renderings in Professor Jebb's notes to his edition of 
 1869. The others are U. 208, 220, 267, 269, 405, 876, ion, 1282, 
 besides some single words. 
 
 293. Properly " to women silence adds a charm." But a proverb 
 is wanted, and the English saying appears sufficiently close to the 
 Greek, to justify its being substituted. A similar liberty has been 
 taken in 1. 714. 
 
 394. In the opening of these lines I have borrowed somewhat from 
 Dean Plumptre. Also in 11. 433, 1045. 
 
 431. The play on the name of Ajax is untranslatable, and I do not 
 think it worth preserving by an equivalent. 
 
 490. I take the word "determined" from Professor Campbell's 
 translation. Also " arch " in 1. 662. 
 
 554. I think this line should be omitted, and the conjunction las 
 made to follow directly on ^los, which supplies an antecedent of dura- 
 tion. It looks like an illustrative quotation, which has slipped into the 
 text. 
 
 571. I should prefer to omit this line, with Dindorf : but do not see 
 how its interpolation is to be accounted for. 
 
 581. Compare Shakespeare, Coriol. Act III, Sc. 1, 295, 
 " He's a disease that must be cut away. " 
 
 Shakespeare seems to have borrowed the metaphor from a passage 
 in Plutarch's life of Coriolanus ; where however the application is 
 different. 
 
 596. I have in this fine chorus taken the liberty of adapting a 
 version by Praed, which I printed in the collected edition of his 
 
124 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Poetical Works, vol. II. p. 349, from a MS. book in my mother's 
 possession. In many places Praed does not give the true meaning of 
 the original; and I am afraid that in improving his translation I 
 have somewhat injured the composition. 
 
 601. I read, with Lobeck, IvavXa, not S,rroiva. This correction, 
 with fd/ivoiv and evvii/iuu (see Professor Jebb's edition of 1869) appears 
 to bring out the most probable meaning. 
 
 610. There is a metaphor here from the wrestler who " draws a 
 by," and has to be fought with when the first antagonist is thrown. 
 Such an allusion can hardly be pointedly translated in a lyric piece, 
 without destroying the proportion of the sentiment. 
 
 646. This speech has been admirably turned by Calverley, in 
 Tennysonian verse. 
 
 734. Tois Kvpiois. I take this as dative of ra Kipia, " the authori- 
 ties." 
 
 775. Here, I take it, there is a metaphor from the " Tinchel," or 
 circle of hunters who surround game. 
 
 812. I do not follow Dindorf in omitting this line. 
 
 839, 840. I follow Hermann in retaining these two lines. The 
 next two Dindorf is no doubt right in rejecting. There is something 
 abrupt in the termination of 1. 840, which may have suggested an 
 unnecessary interpolation. 
 
 869. avij-imdetv being in the aorist must mean " to know as well," 
 not "to learn." See note on 0. T. 575. 
 
 936. A word has dropped out. A translator may be allowed to 
 supply the gap, so as to suit his stanza, without asking whether 
 'Ax'XXe'wi' will fit into the original verse. 
 
 962. Compare Shakespeare, A. IV. E. IV. Act V, Sc. 3, 60, 
 
 " — our rash faults 
 Make trivial price of serious things we have, 
 Not knowing them, until we know their grave." 
 
 966. This speech — than which there is nothing more affecting in 
 the seven plays— is terribly spoilt, if the quibble is used by Tecmessa, 
 that " the death of Ajax is more bitter for me, than sweet for liis 
 enemies"; I have no doubt that we should read, with Eustathius, g for 
 7), " in that." Can t\ be used for fiaWov 17, without any word to precede 
 it indicating choice or comparison? 
 
 978. Read ^^TrcSXi/icas with Dindorf's small edition, not as in 
 Poeta Sc. Gr. 
 
AJAX 125 
 
 1036. This passage was oddly misunderstood by Lord Beacons- 
 field ; see his address to the University of Glasgow. Teucer is by no 
 means either resigned or self-possessed. The word iirixavav is strongly 
 emphatic. Lord Beaconsfield probably read iceii'os rd Kelvov in 1. 1039. 
 
 1068 — 70. The order of the lines has been changed, in order to 
 preserve the antithesis. 
 
 1085. The rhyme is found in the original, and is clearly inten- 
 tional. 
 
 1352. The pointed repetition of i(T8Xbs, from 1. 1345, here and in 
 '399' 1**^ ^ think been neglected by all previous translators. There is an 
 extraordinary rhetorical vigour in these concluding scenes, as though 
 Sophocles had anticipated the common criticisms on his plot — that it 
 lingers, or rather stands still altogether, after Ajax is dead, and had 
 determined that the play should, if not as whole, yet in each of its parts, 
 offer defiance to the critics. 
 
 1397. I find myself obliged to differ from many high authorities, 
 who translate KOfdj^av " to bring," i.e. to bring to the funeral of Ajax. 
 Having just absolutely rejected the presence of Ulysses himself, how 
 can Teucer be willing that he should bring others ? Rather he promises 
 him the exact return of his own courtesy; "whatever dead comrade 
 you want to bury, I shall not make a grievance of it, any more than 
 you have done on this occasion." 
 
 141 7. This line, rejected by Dindorf, can by no means be spared. 
 
 Besides Professor Jebb's small edition, I have lately become 
 acquainted with his Enghsh translation of it, printed in 1882, for the 
 Cambridge representation of the Drama. This translation, although 
 printed throughout as prose, is in many parts apparently but slightly 
 altered from a rendering in verse ; and I notice several coincidences of 
 expression between these parts and my own version. Some of these 
 may be due to my having had the author's edition before me, when I 
 was translating the play. I have added slightly to my previous obliga- 
 tions to Professor Jebb, in correcting 11. 328, 528. 
 
\ 
 
ELECTRA 
 
ELECTRA 
 
 PERSONS REPRESENTED. 
 
 Orestes, son of Agamemnon, the late king of Argos and 
 Mycena, and of ClytcBmnestra. 
 
 Pylades, friend to Orestesy 
 
 An old Attendant, Guardian to Orestes, u^ 
 
 Electra, j/ 1 daughters of Agamemnon and Clytam- 
 Chrysothemis, I nestra. 
 
 CiNlFSM^'E&T'B^^ queen of Argos and Mycena. 
 
 jEgisthxts, cousin to Aga7nemnon, and in his lifetime the 
 paramour of ClytcBmnestra. 
 
 The Chorus is composed of Ladies of Mycena, friends to 
 Electra. 
 
 Attendants on Clytmmnestra. 
 
 Y. A. 
 
ELECTRA 
 
 Scene, before the Palace at MycencB. 
 Enter Orestes, Pylades and Guardian 
 
 Guardian 
 
 Son of our Captain in the wars of Troy, 
 
 Great Agamemnon, it is given thee now 
 
 With thine own eyes, Orestes, to behold 
 
 Those scenes thou hast ever longed for. Here it lies, 
 
 Argos, the ancient land of thy desire ; 
 
 The sacred glade of her the gadfly drave, 
 
 Inachus' daughter; that's the Agora 
 
 They call Lycean, from the wolf-slaying God ; 
 
 This, on the left, Hera's renowned fane ; 
 
 And from the point we are reaching you can swear 
 
 You see Mycenae's Golden City, and this. 
 
 The fateful house of Pelops' family ; ] 
 
 Whence I received you at your sister's hands, 
 
 And saved you from the slaughter of your sire. 
 
 And carried you away, and fostered you 
 
 So far in manhood, ready to revenge 
 
 A father's blood. Wherefore, Orestes, now — 
 
 And Pylades, thou dearest of allies — 
 
 Take we brief counsel what is right to do; 
 
 For see, already the bright gleam of day 
 
 Calls up the birds to sing their matins clear ; 
 
 Above us, and the sable star-lit night 
 
 Has passed away. Now, before any man a 
 
 Comes forth abroad, join you in conference; 
 
 9—2 
 
132 SOPHOCLES 
 
 For where we stand, it is no season more 
 To hesitate; the hour is come to do. 
 
 Orestes 
 
 My faithfuUest of followers, what clear signs 
 
 You manifest of your good will to us ! 
 
 For as a generous steed, though he be old, 
 
 Beset with difficulties, pricks his ears 
 
 And bates not of his courage, you impart 
 
 Spirit to us, and lag no whit behind. 
 
 As you desire, I will unfold my scheme; 
 
 Do you the while mark my words heedfully, 30 
 
 And if I miss the target, mend my aim. 
 
 Late, when I sought the Pythian oracle. 
 
 To learn how I might execute revenge 
 
 Upon my father's murderers, Phoebus gave me 
 
 Answer in this sort ; I will tell it you ; 
 
 / by myself unarmed with shields and martial bands 
 
 By craft held condign slaughter hidden in my hands. 
 
 Well, with this answer sounding in our ears, 
 
 Go you, as opportunity may lead. 
 
 Into the house, and gather all that passes, 40 
 
 And bring us word of all; for in old age, 
 
 And so long after, they will never know 
 
 Now, nor suspect you, frosted thus by time. 
 
 Tell your tale thus ; you are a citiEcn 
 
 Of Phocis, and you come from Phanoteus, 
 
 Who is their best ally ; tell them (and swear it) 
 
 Orestes has been killed by accident 
 
 By a fall from his chariot, at the Pythian games; 
 
 Let it stand so. We, as He bade, the while, 50 
 
 First with libations and shorn curls of hair 
 
 Will deck my father's grave; then back again 
 
 Return, carrying an urn of beaten brass, 
 
 (The same, you know, that in the brake lies hidden,) 
 
 That in feigned words we may convey to them 
 
 Glad tidings — how my body is destroyed. 
 
 Burnt up already and made embers of! 
 
ELECTRA 133 
 
 For where's the harm to be called dead, when really 
 
 I am alive, and gather praise thereby? 60 
 
 No word that profits us can hurt, I fancy. 
 
 Why, I have seen men often, who were wise, 
 
 Falsely pretending death ; then, when they came 
 
 Back to their homes, they have been more prized than ever ; 
 
 So I expect yet, out of this report, 
 
 To blaze forth, star-like, living, on my foes. 
 
 But O my native land ! Gods of the soil ! 
 
 Welcome me with good fortune in these ways ; 
 
 And thou, paternal Home ! for I thy cleanser 
 
 Stand here of right, the ambassador of Heaven; 70 
 
 Send me not with dishonour from this land, 
 
 But grant me to inherit and set up 
 
 The old estate. — I have spoken. Now, old friend, 
 
 Be it your care to guard your post ; go forward ; 
 
 And let us forth. It is the season ; this, \ 
 
 In every action, is men's best ally. 
 
 Ah woe is me ! 
 
 Electra (within) 
 Guardian 
 
 Hark! 
 
 I thought I heard some handmaiden cry faintly 
 
 Inside the doors, my son ! 
 
 Orestes 
 
 Is it perhaps 
 The wronged Electra? Shall we stay awhile 
 And listen to her sorrowing? 
 
 Guardian 
 
 By no means. 
 Do nothing ere performing what is bidden 
 Of Loxias, and initiate all from thence, 
 Pouring lustrations on your father's grave. 
 This wafts us victory, and nerves our action. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
134 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Enter Electra. 
 Electra 
 
 Holy Light, with Earth, and Sky, 
 
 Whom thou fiUest equally. 
 
 Ah how many a note of woe, 
 
 Many a self-inflicted blow 
 
 On my scarred breast might'st thou mark, 90 
 
 Ever as recedes the dark ; 
 
 Known, too, all my nightlong cheer 
 
 To bitter bed and chamber drear. 
 
 How I mourn my father lost, 
 
 Whom on no barbarian coast 
 
 Did red Ares greet amain, 
 But as woodmen cleave an oak 
 My mother's axe dealt murderous stroke. 
 Backed by the partner of her bed. 
 Fell ^gisthus, on his head ; 
 
 Whence no pity, save from me, 100 
 
 O my father, flows for thee, 
 
 So falsely, foully slain. 
 Yet I will not cease from sighing. 
 Cease to pour my bitter crying, 
 While I see this light of day, 
 Or the stars' resplendent play, 
 Uttering forth a sound of wail, 
 Like the child-slayer, the nightingale. 
 Here before my father's door 
 Crying to all men evermore. 
 O Furies dark, of birth divine! 
 O Hades wide, and Proserpine! no 
 
 Thou nether Hermes 1 Ara great ! 
 Ye who regard the untimely dead. 
 The dupes of an adulterous bed. 
 Come ye, help me, and require 
 The foul murder of our sire; 
 And send my brother back again; 
 Else I may no more sustain 
 
 Grief's overmastering weight. 120 
 
 i Enter Chorus of Ladies of Mycence. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 O child, Electra, child ' 
 
 Of one too fatally bold. 
 
 How sighest thou, unsatisfied yet. 
 
 Evermore wasting away, 
 
ELECTRA 135 
 
 For him, Agamemnon, beguiled 
 By thy crafty mother of old. 
 Spite of all Gods, in her net. 
 To base hands given for a prey? 
 Accurst be the author of this ! 
 If I pray not amiss. 
 
 Electra 
 
 women of noble strain, 
 
 Ye are come to solace my pain; 130 
 
 1 know it, I well perceive ; 
 It escapes me not at all; 
 Howbeit I will not leave 
 To lament my father's fall. 
 Ye my love who repay 
 With all love ever gave, 
 Ah let me be, I pray. 
 
 Leave me to rave. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 But not from Hades below. 
 Not from the all-welcoming shore. 
 Even with strong crying and prayer 
 Canst thou raise thy father again. 
 Past all measure in woe 140 
 
 Thou art perishing evermore. 
 Sinking deep in despair, 
 Where no release is from pain; 
 Ah why so bent upon grief. 
 Too sore for relief? 
 
 Electra 
 
 None but fools could forget 
 Their fathers' wrongs, who are gone. 
 But on her my fancy is set. 
 The bird. Heaven's messenger. 
 Wildly bemoaning her 
 For Itys, Itys alone! 
 
 O forlorn Niobe, 15° 
 
 As one godlike I deem of thee, 
 Alas! that abidest, weeping. 
 In a rock-tomb's keeping! 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Not first of mortals with thee. 
 Daughter, did sorrow begin; 
 
136 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Whereas thou passest the rest, 
 Thy kith and kindred within, 
 The life Chrysothemis lives. 
 And Iphianassa, and he 
 In the flower of his youth who grieves. 
 Hid, but not all unblest, , 160 
 
 Whom the land, MycenEe fair. 
 Will receive, her princes' heir. 
 When he, Orestes, shall come 
 By Heaven's guidance home. 
 
 Electra 
 
 Whom I wait for, and go 
 Ceaselessly wet with tears, 
 Unespoused, childless, forlorn, 
 Bearing still, as I must. 
 The unending burden of woe; 
 But he forgets with the years 
 All he has heard and borne ; 
 
 For what message comes I can trust? 170 
 
 Ever he longs to be here — 
 He will not appear ! 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Nay cheer thee, cheer thee, riiy child; 
 God in the Heavens is yet great, 
 Who surveys all else and commands. 
 Leave thou then in his hands 
 Anger — the excess of regret. 
 Nor chide overmuch— nor forget 
 Those whom thou needs must hate. 
 For Time is a God right mild; 
 Nor can Agamemnon's son 
 
 By Crisa's pastoral shore, 180 
 
 Nor the monarch of Acheron, 
 Be deaf evermore. 
 
 Electra 
 
 But already most of my day. 
 Hopeless, has faded away; 
 I can do no longer withal ; 
 ! Without parents to cherish me I waste, 
 Without husband's love, to defend; 
 Yea alien-like, disgraced, 
 
ELECTRA 137 
 
 I inhabit my father's hall, 190 
 
 And in this guise attend 
 At ii board with no feast laid, ; 
 Uncomely arrayed. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 At his return arose 
 A burden of woes — of woes 
 To thy father's resting-place, 
 What time was darted a thrust. 
 From fangs all brass, at his face. 
 Fraud was deviser — Lust 
 Was slayer — embodying the shade 
 Of a fell deed foully planned, 
 
 Yea, whether by heavenly aid 200 
 
 Or a mortal's hand. 
 
 Electra 
 
 O day that far beyond all 
 Dawned most hateful to see ! 
 O night — O sorrows abhorred 
 Of that ghastly festival — 
 Murder done villainously 
 On my sire, by the hands of twain 
 Who took my life as a prey. 
 Who annihilated me ! 
 Whom may God with rightful reward. 
 The Olympian Power, again 
 
 For their deeds amply repay, 210 
 
 Nor let them compass their bliss 
 By an act like this ! 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Take heed; say no more. 
 
 Hast thou no consciousness 
 
 Out of what wealth before 
 
 Thou fair St thus miserably 
 
 Into ills that abide with thee? 
 
 Thou hast wrought thee woes in excess. 
 
 Bringing forth strife on strife 
 
 To the heaviness of thy life; 
 
 And is it so easy a thing 
 
 To contend with a king? 22( 
 
138 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Electra 
 
 Hard is my fate, full hard; 
 I know it; I am mad, I confess; 
 Yet not for the fates that oppress 
 Will I keep this wrath under guard, 
 So long as my life shall endure ! 
 For from whom, companions dear, 
 Should I submissively hear 
 Reason, or from whom, that is wise, 
 Counsel, fit for mine "ear ? 
 Let me be; cease to advise; 
 
 All this must pass without cure; 130 
 
 I shall never be free from distress. 
 And laments numberless. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Yet I bid thee, faithful still, 
 As a, mother, and in good will. 
 Do not add new ill unto ill. 
 
 Electra 
 
 And where should a limit be set 
 
 For evil to spread? 
 Or how is it well, to forget 
 
 The cause of the dead? 
 In what man's heart 
 
 Could a. plant like this find place? 
 Be mine no part 
 
 In such men's favour or grace ! 
 Nor, if with any good things 240 
 
 My fortune is blent, 
 Be it mine to rest in content. 
 
 And fetter the wings 
 Of piercing cries, or tire, 
 
 Praising my sire. 
 For if in the earth, as nought, 
 
 The dead must lie. 
 And these, in return, who ought, 
 
 The slayers, not die. 
 Then farewell honour, and fall 
 
 Men's reverence, all I 
 
ELECTRA 139 
 
 I Lady 
 
 I came, my daughter, zealous for your good 250 
 
 As for my own ; but if I say not well, 
 Have it your way ; for we will follow you. 
 
 Electra 
 
 I am ashamed, dear ladies, if I seem 
 Through frequent lamentations overmuch 
 Oppressed with ills ; but, for necessity 
 Obliges me to do so, pardon me. 
 For how should any woman gently born. 
 Viewing the sorrows of her father's house, 
 Do otherwise than I, who witness them 
 For ever day by day and night by night 
 Rather increase than lessen? to whom, first, 260 
 
 The mother^s face_ who bare me has become 
 Most hostile; next, I must be companied 
 In my own home with my sire's murderers, 
 By them be ruled, take at their hands, or else 
 At their hands hunger ! Then, what sort of days 
 Do you suppose I lead, when I behold 
 ^gisthus seated on my father's throne. 
 Wearing the selfsame garments which he wore, 
 And pouring out hbations on the hearth 270 
 
 By which he slew him? When I witness, too, 1 
 The consummation of their impudence. 
 The homicide lying in my father's bed 
 With that abandoned mother— if it be right 
 To call her mother, who consorts with him ! 
 And she — so profligate that she lives on 
 With her blood-guilty mate— fearing no vengeance— 
 Rather, as if exulting in her doings- 
 Looks out the day on which by cunning erst 
 She slew my father, and each month on it 
 Sets dances going, and sacrifices sheep 280 
 
 In offering to her guardian deities ! 
 I see it, I, ill-fated one ! At home 
 
140 SOPHOCLES 
 
 I weep and waste and sorrow as I survey 
 
 The unblesi feast that bears my father's name, 
 
 In secret; for I cannot even weep 
 
 So freely as my heart would have me do; 
 
 For this tongue-valiant woman with vile words 
 
 Upbraids me, crying "Thou God-forsaken thing, 
 
 Has no man's father died, save only thine? 
 
 Is nobody in mourning, except thee? 290 
 
 111 death betide thee, and the nether Gods 
 
 Give thee no end to these thy sorrowings ! " 
 
 So she reviles ; save when she hears it said 
 
 Orestes is approaching ; straightway then 
 
 She is possest, and comes and screams at me — 
 
 "Is it not you who are the cause of this? 
 
 Pray is not this your doing, who stole Orestes 
 
 Out of my hands, and conjured him away? 
 
 But mind you, you shall pay me well for it ! " 
 
 So snarhng, there joins with her and stands by 
 
 And hounds her forward her illustrious groom, 300 
 
 The all unmanly, all injurious pest. 
 
 Who fights no battles without women ! I, 
 
 Waiting and waiting, till Orestes come 
 
 And end it, miserably daily die. 
 
 For always meaning, never doing, he 
 
 Has utterly confounded all my hopes 
 
 Remote or present. Friends, in such a case, 
 
 There is no room — no, not for soberness 
 
 Or piety; but, beneath injuries, 
 
 There is deep need we prove injurious, too ! 
 
 I Lady 
 
 Stay, tell me, is it with .^gisthus near 310 
 
 You talk thus to us, or is he gone from home? 
 
 Electra 
 
 That is he. Never think, if he were by, 
 
 I could roam forth; but he is abroad just now. 
 
ELECTRA 141 
 
 I Lady 
 
 Then I might come with better confidence 
 To speech of you, that being so. 
 
 Electra 
 
 Oh, ask freely; 
 He is not here. What do you want to know? 
 
 I Lady 
 
 And so I will. What of your brother say you? 
 I would fain know, will he come soon, or tarry? 
 
 Electra 
 He says he will. He does not keep his word. 
 
 I Lady 
 A man is backward, when on some great exploit.-- 320 
 
 Electra 
 I was not bacbward, when I rescued him ! 
 
 I Lady 
 
 Take courage, he is of a worthy stock ; 
 He will not fail his friends. 
 
 Electra 
 
 I trust so. Else 
 I never should have been alive so long. 
 
 I Lady 
 Hush, say no more just now; for I perceive } 
 Chrysothemis your sister, who was born 
 Of the same mother and same sire as you, 
 Come from the palace, carrying in her hands 
 Oblations customary to the dead. 
 
 Enter Chrysothemis. 
 Chrysothemis 
 Sister, what talk is this, which you repeat 
 Out at the entrance of the vestibule, 
 
/ 
 
 142 SOPHOCLES 
 
 And will not learn, taught by long years, to cease 330 
 
 Vainly indulging unavailing rage? 
 
 I for myself can say as much as this — 
 
 I chafe at what I witness, in such fashion, 
 
 That if I could get power, I would make plain 
 
 The sort of temper that I bear towards them ; 
 
 But in these dangers it seems good to sail 
 
 Close-reefed, and not pretend to be at work, 
 
 But effect nothing harmful; and I wish 
 
 You too would do the like ; and yet, the right 
 
 Is not as I declare, but as you judge ; 
 
 Only, if I am to live at liberty, 
 
 I must in all things heed my governors. 340 
 
 Electra 
 
 Well, it is strange that you, being his child 
 Who was your sire, should have regard for her, 
 Your mother, and have quite forgotten him ! 
 All this good counsel you bestow on me 
 Is of her teaching ; and of your own self 
 You can say nothing. Therefore take your choice ; 
 'Either you are of evil mind, or else 
 "Are minded to forget those dear to you; 
 Who said but now, if you could get the power. 
 You would shew plain the hate you have for them ; 
 And yet, while I am doing everything 
 To avenge our father, do not take your part. 
 And seek to turn me from it, who take mine ! 350 
 
 Danger ! Is there not cowardice as well ? 
 Come, answer me, what should it profit me 
 To cease my mourning? Or else hear me speak; 
 Do I not live? unprosperously I know. 
 But well enough for me; to them, the while, 
 I am a torment, and so render honour 
 To him that's gone, if there be service there ! 
 You— madam hatress — you pretend you hate, 
 But really take your father's murderers' side ! 
 For my part, I will never bend to them ; 
 Not though a man should come and offer me 360 
 
ELECTRA 143 
 
 These gauds of yours, in which you glory now ! 
 
 Yours be the full-spread board, the cup o'erflowing ; 
 
 For me — be it my only sustenance 
 
 Not to offend against my conscience. Thus, 
 
 I do not ask to share your dignities, 
 
 And were you well-advised, no more would you ! 
 
 But now, though it be in your power to be called 
 
 Your father's child — the foremost of mankind. 
 
 Be called — your mother's ! So you shall appear 
 
 In most men's eyes unmeritoriously, 
 
 False to your friends, and to your father's shade. 
 
 I Lady 
 
 Now in Heaven's name, no chiding ! There is good 
 
 In what you both have said, if you would learn 370 
 
 Something from her, and she again from you. 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 Oh, I am quite accustomed to her talk ; 
 Nor, ladies, had I ever said one word. 
 Had I not heard a very great mishap 
 Was coming on her, which will make her cease 
 From her long sorrowing. 
 
 Electra 
 
 Come, your bug-bear, tell it ! 
 If you can mention any greater grief 
 Than these I have, I will reply no more. 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 
 Well, I will tell you everything I know. 
 
 They are going, if you will not cease this mourning, ji 
 
 To send you where you shall not ever see 38|) 
 
 The sunlight, but sing sorrow underground, \ 
 
 Buried alive, out of this territory. 
 
 Wherefore take heed, or by and by, in trouble. 
 
 Never blame me. Prudence is easy, now. 
 
 Electra 
 
 Ay? have they purposed to do so to me? 
 
144 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 Most surely, when ^Egisthus shall come home. 
 
 Electra 
 Why as for that, let him come speedily ! 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 What was it that you prayed for, silly one? 
 
 Electra 
 For him to come ; if he is that way minded. 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 So you may get — what treatment? Are you mad? 390 
 
 Electra 
 So I may get — farthest away from you ! 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 And of life present have you no regard? 
 
 Electra 
 Living like mine is choice, to marvel at ! 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 It might be, had you sense to be discreet. 
 
 Electra 
 Do not instruct me to be treacherous. 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 I do not ; but to yield to those who govern. 
 
 Electra 
 Well, gloze it so; you do not speak my language. 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 Yet it were well not to be ruined through^fglly. 
 
ELECTRA 
 
 145 
 
 Electra 
 Come ruin, if needful, in a father's quarrel ! 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 I am sure our father pardons us for this. 400 
 
 Electra 
 That is the speech a villain might approve. 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 You will not hearken and agree with me? 
 
 Electra 
 I trust I am not yet so senseless. No ! 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 Then I will go on whither I was sent. 
 
 Electra 
 Where are you going ? To whom bear you these offerings ? 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 My mother sends me, to strew my father's grave. 
 
 Electra 
 How say you? To the most detested foe — 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 Yes — "whom she murdered!" That is what you mean? 
 
 Electra 
 By whom, of all friends, bidden? At whose desire? 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 Through some nocturnal panic, to my thinking. 410 
 
 Electra 
 Gods of my fathers, only aid me now ! 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 Do you gain any courage from her scare? 
 
 Y. A. 10 
 
146 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Electra 
 Tell me about the dream, and I could say. 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 
 Only I do not know it; except just 
 In brief, the story. 
 
 Electra 
 
 Well, but tell me that; 
 Brief words ere now have often led astray — 
 And righted mortals. 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 
 It is said she saw 
 An apparition of your sire and mine 
 Come back again to daylight ; and he took 
 The sceptre which he sometime bore himself, 420 
 
 But now ^gisthus bears, and planted it 
 Upon the hearth, and out of it a shoot 
 Budded and grew, till all Mycenae's land 
 Was covered with its shadow. So I heard 
 Related by a fellow who was by. 
 While to the Sun-god she disclosed her dream. 
 But more than this I know not; only that 
 She sends me on account of this alarm. 
 Now I beseech you, by our country's Gods, 
 Listen to me, and be not ruined by folly; 
 For though you should repulse me, by and by 
 In trouble you will turn to me again. 430 
 
 Electra 
 
 Nay but let nothing of your burden, dear. 
 
 Light on the tomb ! for it were shame — were sin 
 
 From an abominable spouse to bring 
 
 Lustrations near, or perform obsequies 
 
 To a sire's shade. Let the winds have them, rather ! 
 
 Or hide them deep in dust, where none of them 
 
 Shall ever touch our father's resting-place; 
 
 Let them be kept, stored underground, for her 
 
ELECTRA 147 
 
 When she is dead ! Why surely, were she not 
 
 The most abandoned of all womankind, 440 
 
 She never would be decorating o'er, 
 
 With her unfriendly strewments, him she murdered ! 
 
 Why look you, think you the entombed dead 
 
 Will take these gifts in kindness, at her hands 
 
 Who slew him foully, like an enemy. 
 
 Lopped of the extremities, the stains of blood 
 
 Smeared off, for lustral washings, on his head! 
 
 Do you imagine what you bear can purge 
 
 Her from her murder ? Never I Let it be ! 
 
 Cut from your head the longest locks of hair — 
 
 And mine, unhappy — little worth, indeed, 450 
 
 But what I have — and give it him, this hair 
 
 Untended, and my girdle, unadorned 
 
 With broiderings ! Fall upon your knees, and pray him 
 
 In favour come and help us, from the earth. 
 
 Against our enemies ; and that his boy 
 
 Orestes may set foot, before he die, 
 
 Superior, on the bodies of his foes, 
 
 That we may crown him afterward with hands 
 
 Larger in gift than we can proffer now ! 
 
 Yea I believe, I do believe, that he 
 
 Had part in sending her this ugly dream; 46° 
 
 But still, sister, do this, for your own sake. 
 
 And mine, and his, the man of all mankind 
 
 Dearest, our sire, who in the grave lies dead. 
 
 I Lady 
 
 The princess speaks religiously, my friend; 
 And you, if you are wise, will heed her. 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 
 Yes. 
 It stands to reason, not that two should quarrel 
 Over their duty, but be quick and do it. 
 Only while I essay this business, friends, 
 Do you keep secret, in the name of Heaven ! 
 
148 SOPHOCLES 
 
 For if my mother hears it, to my cost 47° 
 
 Methinks, 1 shall attempt this venture, yet. 
 
 Exit Chrysothemis. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 If I be seer 
 
 Not wholly erring and unpolicied, 
 
 Self-prophesying Justice means to appear, 
 
 Bringing large succour to the righteous side, 
 And following on, my child, with no long waiting-tide. 
 
 Courage springs up within me, as I hear 
 
 The voice of dreams, breathing sweet music near ; 480 
 
 He who begat thee, the Hellenian King, 
 
 Forgets not ever; nor that Ancient Thing, 
 The two-edged brazen fang, by which he foully died. 
 
 Lo, this is she, 
 
 Erinys, hiding her dread ambushed bands, 490 
 
 Sandalled with brass, with myriad feet and hands. 
 
 Yea time hath been, when they who should not, plied 
 A blood-stained spousal-work, unmeet for bed or bride. 
 
 Whence it comes o'er me, I shall never see 
 
 On doer and accomplice harmlessly 
 
 This portent fall; and nothing future can 
 
 By good or ill dream be revealed to man, 500 
 
 If this night-vision speed not, landward, on the tide. 
 
 O chariot-race weary 
 
 Of Pelops of old. 
 How fateful, how dreary, 
 
 Thou hast proved to this land ! 
 For since Myrtilus slumbered, 
 
 From the chariot, all gold, 510 
 
 Torn, silenced for ever, 
 
 Flung far from the strand. 
 From thenceforth never 
 
 The weary disgrace 
 Of troubles unnumbered 
 
 Hath passed from the race. 
 
ELECTRA 149 
 
 Enter Clyt^mnestra, attended. 
 
 CLYTiEMNESTRA 
 
 You gad abroad, then, masterless again, 
 ■^gisthus absent; who did hinder you 
 
 From bringing scandal on your family 
 
 By brawling at the doors ! Now he is gone, 
 
 You pay no heed to me; though many a time. 520 
 
 In many people's ears, you have proclaimed — 
 
 I, without shame or warrant, violate 
 
 Your rights and honours ! I meanwhile commit 
 
 No violence ; I but repay with scorn 
 
 The scorn you heap on me. Your father, though — 
 
 This and no other — is your pretext still. 
 
 How by my hand he died 1 By mine ; I know it ; 
 
 1 There's no denial of the deed in me. 
 
 But Justice slew him ; I was not alone ; 
 
 I And had you sense, you ought to take her side; 
 
 Since he, this father whom you still bewail, 530 
 
 Alone of all the Argives had the heart 
 To ofifer to the Gods your sister's life — 
 
 Whose pains in her begetting equalled not 
 
 My travail pangs, who bare her ! Be it so ; 
 
 Now tell me for what cause, and for whose sake. 
 
 He offered her? For the Argives, will you say? 
 
 They had no right to kill a child of mine ! 
 
 If for his brother Menelaus' sake 
 
 He slew my daughter, was not he to pay 
 
 Forfeit for that? Were there not children twain 
 
 Born to that father, who, had right been done, 
 
 Ought rather to have died, whose sire and dam 540 
 
 Themselves had caused that voyage? Had the Grave 
 
 Some fancy for my offspring, for its feast. 
 
 Rather than hers? Or had all natural love 
 
 Expired in that pernicious father's heart 
 
 For children born of me, but not for children 
 
 Of Menelaus? Was it not the act 
 
 Of a perverse insensate sire? I think it. 
 
 Though you deny; and so would that dead girl 
 
ISO SOPHOCLES 
 
 Say, could she speak. For what my hands have done 
 I do not feel remorse; but if to you 55° 
 
 I seem to think amiss — censure your folk, 
 When you yourself are just ! 
 
 Electra 
 
 You cannot say 
 Now, that I crossed you and you answered me ! 
 Yet if you gave me leave, I would speak fairly 
 For him that's dead, and for my sister too. 
 
 CLYTjEMNESTRA 
 
 I give it you ! If you addressed me thus 
 Always, it would not chafe me so to hear. 
 
 Electra 
 
 Then listen ! You avow my father's death ; 
 What could more ill become your mouth than this. 
 Whether he were unjustly slain or no? 560 
 
 [But let me tell you that you slew him not 
 For Justice, but perverted by the lure 
 Of a base wretch, who is your consort now. 
 What ! Question of the Huntress Artemis 
 On whose account she held the various winds 
 Spell-bound in Aulis ! Rather, I will tell ; 
 For 'tis not given you to learn of her. 
 My father once, as I have heard the tale, 
 ( While sporting in a sacred wood of hers, 
 Roused as he went a dappled antlered roe. 
 And with some careless vaunt of slaughtering it 
 Shoots at and hits it ; wherefore Leto's maid, 5 70 
 
 Wrathful at this, kept back the Achaian host. 
 Till he should render up for sacrifice. 
 In payment for the beast, his daughter dear — 
 And therefore was she offered ; since escape 
 There was none other for the armament. 
 Either toward Ilion, or backward home. 
 Whence much enforced, and much resisting it, 
 
ELECTRA 151 
 
 Not for the sake of Menelaus, he 
 
 Unwillingly gave her to the knife at last. 
 
 But what an if (for I will take your story) 
 
 He did it through benevolence for him? 
 
 Was it thereafter just that he should perish, 
 
 And at your hand? Under what law? Beware 
 
 You do not, while you set this law to others, 580 
 
 Lay up repentance for yourself, and pain. 
 
 If we begin to exchange life for life, 
 
 You should die next, if you received your due. 
 
 But look you do not proffer for excuse 
 
 That which is not ; for tell me, if you will, 
 
 Why you are now doing things most execrable, 
 
 Consorting with the branded murderer 
 
 By whose connivance erst you slew my sire. 
 
 And bearing children, to the extrusion of 
 
 Your honest first-born, born in honesty? 590 
 
 How should I pardon this? Or will you claim 
 
 In this, too, to be taking vengeance for 
 
 Your daughter ? It sounds vilely, if you do ; 
 
 For 'twere unseemly in a daughter's quarrel 
 
 To couple with an enemy ! Ay truly. 
 
 It's an offence even to admonish you. 
 
 Who let your tongue run freely, when you say 
 
 That I speak evil of my mother ! I 
 
 A slave-mistress account you, over us, 
 ; As much as mother ; for a life of bondage 
 
 Is it I lead, compassed with many griefs. 
 
 Wrought by yourself and by your paramour. 600 
 
 And poor Orestes is an exile, too. 
 
 Hardly delivered from your violence. 
 
 And living on in wretchedness — the same 
 
 You have so oft charged me with nurturing 
 
 To take revenge on you; and so I would — 
 
 Never doubt that — if I had strength to do it. 
 
 Now, for that treason, publish me to all 
 
 Shameless — perverse — abusive — what you will; 
 
 And if I be an adept in the same, 
 
 I do bare justice to your blood in me ! 
 
152 SOPHOCLES 
 
 I Lady 
 I see her breathing fury ! Right or wrong, 6io 
 
 Now, 'tis all one, for any thought she gives it ! 
 
 Clyt^mnestra 
 What sort of thought, then, must I give to her, 
 Who in this fashion dares insult her mother, 
 And at her years? Do you suppose she means 
 To exceed all measure in her shamelessness ? 
 
 Electra 
 Now understand, I_dq Jeel_ shame^ atjhis, 
 Although to you I may not seem to feel it. 
 I do perceive it, that my conduct is 
 Unseasonable, and unbefitting me. 
 Only your acts and your hostility 
 
 Force me to this behaviour. Infamy 620 
 
 Is got by contact with the infamous. 
 
 ClYT/EMNESTRA 
 
 Insolent creature ! I, my words and acts, 
 Make you so loudly over-eloquent? 
 
 Electra 
 
 It is your fault, not mine ; you are the doer. 
 And deeds find names. 
 
 ClYTjEMNESTRA 
 
 Now not by Artemis, 
 Who is my mistress, when ^gisthus comes 
 Shall you escape, for this audacity ! 
 
 Electra 
 See, now you fly into a frenzy ! First 
 You let me speak my mind — then, you'll not listen ! 
 
 Clyt^mnestra 
 Will you not let me sacrifice, without 630 
 
 Words of ill omen, after suffering you 
 To say all that you can ? 
 
ELECTRA 153 
 
 Electra 
 
 Go, sacrifice ! 
 I let you ! Nay, I bid you ! Don't accuse 
 My mouth again, for I shall say no more. 
 
 ClYTjEMNESTRA 
 
 Take up the offerings, you that wait on me, 
 
 The fruits of earth, that unto this my Lord 
 
 I may prefer petitions for release 
 
 Out of my present terrors. — Hear thou now. 
 
 Protector Phoebus, my unuttered vow ! 
 
 For what I say I say not among friends. 
 
 Nor is it meet to uncover all my ends 
 
 Here, in her presence, to the open sky, 640 
 
 Lest she with malice and loud clamorous cry 
 
 Scatter vain babblings to the city round ; 
 
 But softly list, and soft my words shall sound. 
 
 The ambiguous visions, whose dim shadowing 
 
 Last night I witnessed, O Lycean King, 
 
 If they portended good, give them like close ; 
 
 If evil, turn them backward on my foes. 
 
 And do not thou, if any would by stealth, 
 
 Let them disturb me from my present wealth; 
 
 Let me live on securely, as to-day, 650 
 
 Holding the Atridse's palace, and their sway, 
 
 Abiding with the friends I bide withal 
 
 Now, in good case; and with my children, all 
 
 Through whom no bitter pang is made to strike 
 
 Their mother's heart, or shudder of dislike. 
 
 Hear, great Apollo, what I pray for thus, 
 
 And, as we ask, in grace give all of us. 
 
 — The rest, I think, thou, being divine, perceivest. 
 
 Though I be silent; for it cannot be 
 
 But all is open to the sons of Jove. 
 
 Enter Guardian. 
 
 Guardian 
 
 Ladies, to whom I am a foreigner, 660 
 
154 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Pray how might I discover if this palace 
 Be that of King ^gisthus? 
 
 I Lady 
 
 Sir, it is ; 
 You have guessed rightly. 
 
 Guardian 
 And am I further right 
 In guessing that this lady is his wife? 
 She bears a qpieenly presence. 
 
 I Lady 
 
 Certainly : 
 You see her there before you. 
 
 Guardian 
 
 Madam, hail ! 
 I bring you pleasant tidings from a friend; 
 You, and ^gisthus also. 
 
 Clyt^mnestra 
 
 They are welcome. 
 But I would hear first, who he was that sent you. 
 
 Guardian 
 Phanoteus of Phocis, with a weighty charge. 670 
 
 Clyt^emnestra 
 Of what sort, stranger, say ? for I am sure. 
 Being from a friend, that you will speak us friendly. 
 
 Guardian 
 Briefly I speak. Orestes is no more. 
 
 Electra 
 O I am lost, unhappy ! 
 
 Clyt^emnestra 
 
 What sir, what.^ 
 Never mind her ! 
 
ELECTRA 155 
 
 GUARDIA^F 
 
 I say as I have said. 
 Orestes is dead. 
 
 Electra 
 O me, I am undone ! 
 Now I am nothing ! 
 
 Clyt^emnestra 
 
 Yea, see thou to that. 
 How came he by his death, sir? Tell me truly. 
 
 Guardian 
 1 will tell all; for to that end I came. 680 
 
 The man had gone to the great festival — 
 The glory of Hellas — for the Delphian games ; 
 And when he heard the shouting of the crier 
 CaUing the foot-race, which is first adjudged. 
 He entered for it, comely to behold. 
 The worship of the eyes of all men there ; 
 And having reached the limit of the course 
 Whence they were started, he came out of it 
 With the all-honoured prize of victory. 
 To say but little out of much I might, 
 I never saw before the acts and prowess 
 Of such a man as he ; but take one statement ; 690 
 
 In every heat for which the judges set 
 The customary courses, out and home. 
 He brought off all the honours of the day. 
 And was congratulated, and proclaimed 
 "An Argive, named Orestes" — and "the son 
 Of Agamemnon ", him who mustered once 
 The illustrious host of Hellas. So far well. 
 But if some Deity is in the way, 
 It is not even a strong man can escape. 
 For he, another day at sunrise, when 
 Owners of horses met to try their speed. 
 With many other charioteers, went in. 7°° 
 
 One was Achaian, one from Sparta, two 
 
iS6 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Libyans, skilled masters of the yoke and car ; 
 
 He among these, with mares of Thessaly, 
 
 Came fifth; the sixth was from ^tolia. 
 
 With bright bay colts ; the seventh Magnesian ; 
 
 The eighth of ^nian birth, his horses white ; 
 
 The ninth from Athens the divinely builded ; 
 
 Last, a Boeotian's car made up the ten. 
 
 These, stationed where the judges of the course 
 
 Cast each his lot, and ranked his driving-board, 710 
 
 Forth started at the brazen bugle's note, 
 
 And cheering to their horses all at once 
 
 Shook the grasped reins ; then the whole course was filled 
 
 With rattle of the chariot metal-work ; 
 
 The dust rose high; crowded together, all 
 
 Spared not the goad— so might some one of them 
 
 Fore-reach on snorting steed and axle-tree ; 
 
 While evermore alike on back and wheel. 
 
 Foaming and quick, the coursers' pantings came. 
 
 But he kept close under the endmost mark, 720 
 
 Sweeping his axle round continuously. 
 
 And, giving rein to the right-handmost steed, 
 
 Pulled back the inner goer. And at first 
 
 The driving-boards all held themselves upright ; 
 
 But afterwards the .^nian's hard-mouthed colts 
 
 Bolt violently; and coming from the turn, 
 
 After the sixth, just in the seventh round, 
 
 Dash all their fronts against the Barca car ; 
 
 Then, in an instant, from one accident, 
 
 Car upon car began to crash and fall. 
 
 And the whole plain of Crisa became filled 
 
 With wreck of steeds and tackling. At the sight 730 
 
 That crafty driver, he from Athens, draws 
 
 Out of the way, and slackens, passing by 
 
 The surge of chariots eddying in the midst. 
 
 Last came Orestes, trusting to the close, 
 
 Keeping his fillies back ; but seeing him 
 
 Left in alone, he launches a shrill whoop 
 
 Through his fleet coursers' ears, and races him, 
 
ELECTRA 157 
 
 And yoke and yoke the couple drove along, 
 Now one and now the other shewing head 
 Out in the front, over their carriages. 740 
 
 Well, all his rounds, poor fellow, till the last, 
 He stood up straight, and kept his chariot straight, 
 And drove straight through ; then, slackening the left rein 
 As his horse turns, he struck unwittingly 
 iThe corner of the mark, and snapped the nave 
 i Short from the axle, and slipped instantly 
 Over the rail, and got entangled in 
 The cloven reins ; as on the plain he fell, 
 His steeds into the middle of the course 
 Ran all astray. Then the whole host, that saw him 
 Precipitated from the driving-board. 
 Lifted their voices to bewail the youth 750 
 
 Who did such feats, and met with such hard fate. 
 Now dashed upon the ground, now seen with limbs 
 All upward flung to heaven; till chariot-men 
 Hardly restrained the steeds in their career. 
 And loosed him, bathed in blood, so that no friend, 
 Seeing the poor body, could have known 'twas he. 
 Then certain Phocians, ordered for the task. 
 Straightway consumed it on a funeral pile, 
 
 / And hither in a little urn they bring 
 
 / That mighty stature, in poor embers now. 
 
 To win a tomb in his own fathers' land. 760 
 
 Such is my tale; right piteous in the telling; 
 But in the sight of us, who witnessed it. 
 The saddest thing of all I ever saw. 
 
 I Lady 
 Alack, the lineage of our lords of old 
 Is all, too plainly, ruined from the root. 
 
 Clyt^mnestra 
 
 O God, this fortune— shall I call it fair. 
 
 Or black, though profitable? yet is it hard 
 
 That I should save my own life, through misfortunes 
 
 Which are my own ! 
 
158 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Guardian 
 
 Why thus regretful, lady, 
 At what I have just told you? 
 
 Clyt^mnestra 
 
 It is strange — 
 This motherhood; for sons of one's own bearing, 770 
 However ill entreated at their hands, 
 One cannot muster hatred. 
 
 Guardian 
 
 I am come, 
 It seems, in vain. 
 
 Clyt^mnestra 
 
 Nay indeed, not in vain. 
 Why should you say in vain? if you are come 
 With a sure token that the man is dead, 
 Who was indeed the offspring of my being, 
 But from this bosom and maternal care 
 Revolted, and became as one estranged, 
 An exile; never, from the day he left 
 This country, saw me more ; but, laying to me 
 His father's death, was ever threatening me. 
 So that sweet sleep neither by night nor day 
 Would shadow me, but the impending hour 780 
 
 Held me continually in fear of death; 
 While now, since I am this day freed frogi danger 
 Of him, and of her too — for she dwelt with me 
 A far worse canker, ever draining deep 
 My very life-blood — now, for all her menaces, 
 I shall dwell tranquil ! 
 
 Electra 
 
 O me miserable! 
 Why now, Orestes, there is room enough 
 To groan for thy misfortunes, when, being thus. 
 Thou art scorned by this thy mother! Is it well? 790 
 
ELECTRA IS9 
 
 CLYTiEMNESTRA 
 
 Not thou— but he being as he is, is well. 
 
 Electra 
 Hear, Nemesis of him who is no more ! 
 
 Clyt^mnestra 
 Nemesis has heard and executed well 
 That which was fitting. 
 
 Electra 
 
 Triumph ! you are happy now. 
 Clyt^mnestra 
 You and Orestes cannot hinder me. 
 
 Electra 
 'Tis we are hindered; far from hindering you. 
 
 Clyt^emnestra 
 
 I were beholden to your coming, friend, 
 
 If you had hindered her from her loud clamour. 
 
 Guardian 
 Well then, I will be going — if all is well. 
 
 Clyt^mnestra 
 
 Nay surely; for it would be sin in me 800 
 
 That you should do so, and unworthy of 
 
 The friend who sent you. Please you enter in? 
 
 Leave her alone, to sorrow out of doors 
 
 For her dear friends' misfortunes, and her own. 
 
 Exeunt Clyt^mnestra and Guardian. 
 
 Electra 
 
 Seems it to you as if, in grief and pain. 
 She was lamenting, weeping sore — the wretch ! 
 Over her son, thus lost ? She is gone smiling ! 
 O me unhappy ! Orestes, O my darling, 
 
i6o SOPHOCLES 
 
 How has thy death undone me ! Parting thus, 
 
 Thou tearest all the hopes out of my heart — 
 
 All I had left — that thou would'st come, some day, 8io 
 
 Living, avenger of thy father's death, 
 
 And of my wrongs. Now, whither should I turn ? 
 
 I am alone ; I have no father ; now 
 
 I have not thee. Must I be slave once more 
 
 Among the most detested of mankind. 
 
 My father's murderers? Is it well with me? 
 
 Nay, for the future never more at all 
 
 Shall one roof hold us ; rather, on this door-stone, 
 
 friendless 
 I will sink down and wear away and die ! 
 For this if any of the tribe within 820 
 
 Is angered, let him kill me; death were welcome; 
 Life is but pain, and I am sick of it. 
 
 L I. 
 
 I Lady 
 
 Where be Jove's thunders, where the flaming Day, 
 If, seeing these things, they hide them, and are still 1 
 
 Electra 
 Ah, welaway ! 
 
 I Lady 
 My child, why weepest thou ? 
 
 Electra 
 Fie then — 
 
 I Lady 
 Speak gently. 830 
 
 Electra 
 
 Thou wilt slay me. 
 
 I Lady 
 
 How 1 
 
ELECTRA i6i 
 
 Electra 
 
 Yea, in my wasting, thou wilt trample more 
 
 Upon me, if thou wilt suggest a hope 
 
 For those who manifestly are dead and gone. 
 
 I. 2. 
 
 I Lady 
 
 I know that womeris gold-bound toils ensnared 
 The king Amphiaraus ; and now beneath — 
 
 Electra 
 Ah well a day 1 840 
 
 I Lady 
 He reigns, with all his powers. 
 
 Electra 
 Ah, woe! 
 
 1 Lady 
 
 Woe, for the murderess — 
 
 Electra 
 
 Slain i 
 
 I Lady 
 
 Ay, slain. 
 Electra 
 
 I know it, I know it ; a champion was revealed 
 For him, in trouble; none is left, for me ; 
 He who yet was is taken from me, and gone. 
 
 II. I. 
 
 I Lady 
 Thou art meet for pity ; piteous is thy lot. 
 
 Electra 
 That know I well, too well; my life is full 850 
 
 With month on month, with surge on surge of woes, 
 Hateful and fearful. 
 
 v. A. I' 
 
1 62 SOPHOCLES 
 
 I Lady 
 All thy groans we know. 
 Electra 
 Therefore no more dissuade me, since not one — 
 
 I Lady 
 Hoiti say'st thou 1 
 
 Electra 
 
 Is left of all my hopes of aid. 
 From him, the heir, bor?i of one birth with mc. 
 
 II. 2. 
 
 I Lady 
 All have their fate. 86o 
 
 Electra 
 Meet all such fate as his, 
 Dragged in a cleft of the reins, poor hapless one. 
 Among fleet emulous hoofs 1 
 
 I Lady 
 Strange, the mishap! 
 
 Electra 
 
 How otherwise, when withoui care of mine, 
 A stranger — 
 
 I Lady 
 Out, alas! 
 
 Electra 
 
 He passed aivay. 
 Meeting no burial, no lament, from me. 870 
 
 Enter Chrysothemis. 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 
 My dearest, I am driven, for delight. 
 To throw decorum to the winds, and run ! 
 For I bring pleasure, and an end of all 
 The ills that you felt once and sorrowed for. 
 
ELECTRA 163 
 
 Electra 
 
 Whence would you fetch assistance for my woes, 
 Whereof all healing is impossible? 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 
 Orestes is at hand ! I tell you so ! ' 
 
 He's here, in sight, plainly as you see me ! 
 
 Electra. 
 
 Fie, are you frantic, wretch, and do you jest 
 
 At your own sorrows, and at mine ? 880 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 
 Not I, 
 By the house-altar ! I do not say this 
 For wantonness ; but he is come, indeed ! 
 
 Electra 
 
 O wretched that I am ! and from whose mouth 
 Did you receive this tale, that you believe 
 So overfondly ? 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 It is proved to me 
 By my own e)'es, none other; for I see 
 Clear evidence. 
 
 Electra 
 See proof? O wretch, what proof? 
 What did you see, to inflame you all at once 
 With this mad fever? 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 Listen, in Heaven's name, 
 That you may learn; and call me, afterwards. 
 Either distraught, or sober. 890 
 
 Electra 
 
 Say your say. 
 If it affords you any pleasure. 
 
1 64 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 
 I 
 
 Am telling you exactly what 1 saw. 
 
 As I approached our sire's ancestral grave, 
 
 I observed streams upon the pillar's top 
 
 Of milk fresh-running, and the sepulchre 
 
 Circled with garlands of all flowers in bloom. 
 
 I was surprised to see it, and looked round. 
 
 Lest somebody should be approaching me. 
 
 But when I found all quiet about the place, 
 
 I crept up to the tombstone, and perceived, 
 
 Upon the very corner of the pile, 900 
 
 A severed ringlet of a young man's hair. 
 
 No sooner did I see it, than there darts 
 
 Into my poor heart a familiar dream — - 
 
 This that I was beholding was the token 
 
 Of my most dear Orestes ! No light word 
 
 I uttered ; but I took it in my hands, 
 
 And my eyes filled with tears at once, for joy. 
 
 And well I know, and well I knew it then, 
 
 How from no other came that ornament. 
 
 For whose work should it be, save yours or mine ? 
 
 And I at least, I am certain, did it not, gio 
 
 Nor yet did you; how could you? when you know 
 
 You cannot even with impunity 
 
 Go out of doors to worship at a shrine; 
 
 Nor can it be our mother who would care 
 
 To do it, or have done it unperceived. 
 
 No, 'twas Orestes made those offerings. 
 
 But O dear heart, take courage! The same Power 
 
 Succours not always the same side alike; 
 
 And on us twain it has frowned hitherto; 
 
 But none the less, this morning shall be fraught 
 
 With many things for good. 
 
 Electra 
 
 Alack the while ! 
 How I pity you for your folly ! 920 
 
ELECTRA 165 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 
 But what is it ? 
 Do I not speak to please you now? 
 
 Electra 
 
 You know not 
 Whither you are borne — how far you are astray ! 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 But how can I not know, what I saw plainly? 
 
 Electra 
 
 O wretched girl, he's dead ! his saving us 
 Is done and ended ; never look to him ! 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 Alas for pity ! Who was it told you so ? 
 
 Electra 
 One that was present with him, when he perished. 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 'Tis very strange. Where is he? 
 
 Electra 
 
 In the palace; 
 Welcome, not odious, in our mother's eyes. 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 
 Alas for pity 1 But from whom, then, came 930 
 
 All those oblations to our father's grave ? 
 
 Electra 
 
 I think most likely some one put them there 
 In memory of Orestes, who was dead. 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 
 miserable ! and I was hastening hither, 
 Joyful to have such tidings, unaware 
 
 What mischief was upon us ! Now, arrived, 
 
 1 find the old sorrows still, with others new. 
 
i66 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Electra 
 'Tis so indeed; but if you list to me, 
 You can relieve the burden of the woe 
 That presses now. 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 What, can I raise the dead? 940 
 
 Electra 
 I did not say so ; I am no such fool. 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 What do you bid me, that is in my power ? 
 
 Electra 
 Dare to do that which I shall urge on you ! 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 If it will aid us, I shall not refuse. 
 
 Electra 
 Look, without effort nothing thrives. 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 
 I know it. 
 All I have strength for I will help to bear. 
 
 Electra 
 
 Hear, then, the course I am resolved upon. 
 
 Friends to stand by us even you must know 
 
 That none are left us; but the Grave has taken 
 
 And reft them; and we two remain alone. 950 
 
 I, while I heard my brother was alive 
 
 And well, had hopes that he would come, one day, 
 
 To the requiting of his father's death ; 
 
 But since he is no more, to you I look 
 
 Not to refuse, with me, your sister here, 
 
 To slay the author of that father's murder, 
 
 .^gisthus ; (we need have no secrets, now.) 
 
 For whither — to what still surviving hope 
 
ELECTRA 167 
 
 Do you yet look, and suffer patiently? 
 
 Who for the loss of your ancestral wealth 960 
 
 Have cause for grieving, and have cause for pain 
 
 At all the time that passes over you, 
 
 Growing so old, a maiden and unwed. 
 
 And these delights never expect to gain 
 
 At any time ; ^gisthus is too prudent 
 
 To suffer that your progeny or mine 
 
 Should see the light, to his own clear undoing ! 
 
 ^Vhile, if you will be guided by my counsels. 
 
 First, you shall have the praise of piety 
 
 From your dead sire and brother in the grave, 
 
 Next, shall be called hereafter, as at first, 970 
 
 Free, and obtain a marriage worthy of you ; 
 
 For all men pay regard to honesty. 
 
 And as for glory — see you not what glory 
 
 You will confer upon yourself and me, 
 
 If you should heed me ? For what citizen 
 
 Or stranger, who beholds us, will not greet 
 
 Our passing steps with praises such as these : 
 
 "Friends, look at those two sisters, who redeemed 
 
 Their fathers' house; who, prodigal of life, 
 
 Were ministers of slaughter to their foes 980 
 
 Who prospered well before; to them be worship, 
 
 To them the love of all men ; at high feasts. 
 
 In general concourse, for their fortitude. 
 
 That pair let all men honour." Of us two 
 
 Such are the things that every man will say. 
 
 So that our glory shall not cease from us. 
 
 Living or dead. O, be persuaded, dear ! 
 
 Succour your father's, aid your brother's cause. 
 
 Liberate me from evils, and yourself. 
 
 Remembering this, that a dishonoured life 
 
 Is shame to those who have been born in honour. 
 
 I Lady 
 
 In work like this forethought is serviceable 990 
 
 Both to the speaker and the listener. 
 
i68 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Chrvsothemis 
 
 And if she were not mentally perverse, 
 
 She would have had some thought of prudence, ladies, 
 
 Before she ever spake — which now she has not. 
 
 Why, in what prospect do you arm yourself' 
 
 With such a valour, and call me to aid ? 
 
 Can you not see, you are not man, but woman ? 
 
 Your hand is weaker than your enemies'. 
 
 Heaven sends good fortune daily upon them, 
 
 Which runs from us, and comes to nothingness. looo 
 
 Who, then, that schemed the death of one so mighty, 
 
 Could scape uninjured by calamity? 
 
 Look that we do not happen on worse ills 
 
 Through our ill conduct, if these words get wind. 
 
 Death, with disgrace, though we obtain some credit. 
 
 Is no advantage and no help to us ; 
 
 For death is not the worst ; rather, in vain 
 
 To wish for death, and not to compass it. 
 
 But I beseech you, ere we are destroyed 
 
 With a complete destruction utterly, 
 
 Ere you abolish our whole family, loio 
 
 Set bounds on passion ! What you said just now 
 
 I will keep close, unspoken, unpursued ; 
 
 Only be wise enough to yield at length 
 
 To stronger power, having yourself no strength. 
 
 I Lady 
 
 Let her persuade you ; there is no good thing 
 Better than forethought and sobriety. 
 
 Electra 
 You have said nothing I did not look for. Well 
 I knew, you would reject my instances. 
 Yes, I must do it by myself alone ; 
 At least, without one blow, we will not leave it. 1020 
 
 Chrvsothemis 
 Ah, would you had been so minded, when our sire 
 Was murdered ! Then you would have ended all ! 
 
ELECTRA 169 
 
 Electra 
 I was, in temper; I lacked wisdom then. 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 Try and remain as wise for evermore ! 
 
 Electra 
 Now that you preach, I know you will not help me ! 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 And any man would come to harm who did ! 
 
 Electra 
 I envy you your prudence; for your cowardice, ^' 
 I hate you ! 1 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 I will bear it, when you praise. 
 
 Electra 
 Only you never will get praise of me ! 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 It will be long, yet, before that is settled. 1030 
 
 Electra 
 There is no service in you ; get you gone. 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 There is ! With you there is no towardness. 
 
 Electra 
 Go to your mother; tell it all to her. 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 I do not hate you quite so much as that. 
 
 Electra 
 Do not forget, though, to what shame you drag me. 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 Shame not at all ; but forethought for your good. 
 
17° SOPHOCLES 
 
 Electra 
 So I must follow what you think is just? 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 When you are prudent, you shall guide us both. 
 
 Electra 
 Pity that you should speak so well, and miss it ! 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 You have named right the fault on your own side. 1040 
 
 Electra 
 
 How can that be? Do you deny the justice 
 Of what I urge? 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 Justice sometimes brings damage. 
 
 Electra 
 Under those laws I do not choose to live. 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 Well, you will find me right, if you will do it. 
 
 Electra 
 Ay and I will ! You cannot frighten me. 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 Is't really so ? Will you not change your mind ? 
 
 Electra 
 Nothing's more odious than an evil mind. 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 You seem to care for nothing I can say. 
 
 Electra 
 
 I have resolved to do it of old time, 
 Not newly. 
 
ELECTRA 171 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 
 I am going. Neither you 105° 
 
 Deign to approve my words, nor I your ways. 
 
 Electra 
 
 Go in, then ! I shall never follow you ; 
 Not though you come to wish it earnestly ; 
 There were small sense in running after — folly ! 
 
 Chrysothemis 
 
 And if you think that reason is with you, 
 So reason still ! for, when your footsteps light 
 In evil ways, then you will find me right. 
 
 Exit Chrysothemis. 
 
 Chorus 
 I. I. 
 
 We that regard 
 The excellent wisdom of the birds of air, 
 
 Who for the nurture care 1060 
 
 Of those they spring from — those who gave them food, 
 
 Why is it hard 
 For us, like them, to render good for good? 
 But, by the thunderbolt of sovereign Jove, 
 And Themis, throned, above. 
 We scape not long ! 
 Thou, who to mortals in the realms of death 
 Passest through earth, send forth thy voice, O Fame, 
 With piteous cry, to Atreus' sons beneath, 
 Bearing thy tale of shame 
 Unmeet for song, 
 
 I. 2. 
 
 How first of all 1070 
 
 Corruption dwells within their palace hall, 
 
 And, with their children, strife ; 
 The dissonant watchword harmonized no more 
 
 Now, as before, 
 By sweet endearments of their household life. 
 Electra, left alone, by rude waves tossed. 
 Mourns for her father lost 
 With ceaseless wail, 
 
172 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Even as the ever-sorrowing nightingale, 
 Careless for death, so she might end them too, 
 The accursed pair — yea, ready for the gloom ; 1080 
 
 What woman lives as true 
 This side the tomb? 
 
 II. I. 
 
 For none among the great 
 Would court oblivion, 
 Darkening his honour by a life of pain. 
 As thou, my child, hast done. 
 Choosing to share a fate 
 Full of all tears, not caring to obtain 
 At once, in the same breath, the twofold prize 
 Of daughter perfect, and of maiden wise. 1090 
 
 II. 2. 
 
 Live thou — in wealth and force 
 Above thy foes as far 
 As now thou dwellest underneath their might ! 
 For under no good star 
 Have I beheld the course 
 Lying, of thy life ; yet in the paths of Right 
 Most sovereign — thou, I say, in these hast trod 
 The foremost, through thy piety to God. 
 
 Enter Orestes and Pylades, with an urn. 
 Orestes 
 
 Were we told right, and are we tending right, 
 As we desire, fair ladies ? 
 
 I Lady 
 
 And what seek you? noo 
 
 What are you here for ? 
 
 Orestes 
 
 I was asking where 
 ^gisthus lived. 
 
 I Lady 
 
 Then you are well arrived, 
 And your informant blameless. 
 
ELECTRA 173 
 
 Orestes 
 
 Which of you 
 Would kindly carry word to those within 
 Of the long-looked-for presence of us twain ? 
 
 I Lady 
 If the most near ought to announce it, she will. 
 
 Orestes 
 
 Lady, go in and tell them certain Phocians 
 Seek for ^gisthus. 
 
 Electra 
 
 O me miserable ! 
 Are you not bringing tokens to confirm 
 The tale we heard? 
 
 Orestes 
 I do not know your story; mo 
 
 But my old master, Strophius, gave me charge 
 To tell about Orestes. 
 
 Electra 
 
 O sir, what? 
 How terror creeps upon me ! 
 
 Orestes 
 
 We bring home 
 Poor relics of him, in a narrow urn. 
 Dead, as you see. 
 
 Electra 
 
 Unhappy that I am ! 
 Here is the thing already evident. 
 I see your burden, I suppose, at hand. 
 
 Orestes 
 
 If you are grieving for Orestes' ills, 
 
 Know, that this vessel holds the dust of him. 
 
174 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Electra 
 
 sir, in Heaven's name give it — if this urn 
 
 Hides him indeed — into my hands, to hold, 1120 
 
 That I may weep and mourn to the uttermost 
 For my own self, and my whole race, at once, 
 Over these ashes ! 
 
 Orestes 
 Bring it here, and give her, 
 Whoever she may be ; for I am sure 
 She does not ask it out of enmity, 
 But as some friend, or blood-relation born. 
 
 Electra 
 
 Ah thou memorial of my best-beloved. 
 
 All that is left me of Orestes, how 
 
 Do I receive thee back — not as I hoped. 
 
 When I first sped thee on thy way ! For now 
 
 1 bear thee in my hands, and thou art nothing; 
 
 But O my child, I sent thee forth from home 11 30 
 
 Glorious with life ! Would that I first had died. 
 
 Before I sent thee to a foreign land. 
 
 Stolen by these hands and out of slaughter saved ; 
 
 So had that day beheld thee lying dead. 
 
 Partaking with me in thy father's grave. 
 
 But now thou hast perished — perished miserably. 
 
 An exile in a strange land, far from home, 
 
 Far from thy sister ; nor with loving hands 
 
 Bathed I thy body, and laid it out — woe's me ! 
 
 Nor, as was fitting, from the blazing pyre 
 
 Took up the poor remains. But cared for — ah, 1140 
 
 By unfamiliar hands thou art come hither, 
 
 A little burden, in a little urn. 
 
 Ah me unhappy for my ancient care 
 
 Made fruitless, for the pleasing toil I spent. 
 
 Often, on thee ! for not at any time 
 
 Wert thou thy mother's darling, more than mine ; 
 
 I was thy nurse ; no houseUngs fostered thee ; 
 
 I was thy "sister", ever, too, by name. 
 
ELECTRA 175 
 
 But now all this has vanished in a day, 
 
 Even with thy death. For thou hast gathered all 1150 
 
 Together, like a whirlwind, and art gone ; 
 
 My father is no more ; I too am dead 
 
 In thee ; thyself art dead, and gone from me ; 
 
 And our foes laugh ; and that disnatured mother, 
 
 Of whom thou hast often sent word privily 
 
 Thou would'st thyself appear to punish her, 
 
 Raves with delight ! This the ill Destiny 
 
 Of thee and me wrested away ; who sent thee 
 
 On to me thus — not the dear form I loved. 
 
 But embers, and an unavailing shade. 
 
 — Woe's me! O piteous sight! Alas, alas, 11 60 
 
 A terrible journey hast thou gone, my dear; 
 
 Woe's me ! and without thee I am undone ; 
 
 I am undone without thee, O my brother ! 
 
 Receive me then into this house of thine, 
 
 Nought unto nought, to dwell with thee below 
 
 For evermore. For when thou wast on earth. 
 
 All that I had on earth I shared with thee; 
 
 And — for I see no grieving in the dead — 
 
 I would die now, so I might share thy tomb. 1170 
 
 I Lady 
 
 Your sire, Electra, was a mortal man ; 
 So was Orestes ; wherefore do not grieve 
 Beyond all bounds; we all owe Heaven a death. 
 
 Orestes 
 
 O Heavens, what shall I say? whither shall I turn 
 
 For lack of words ? for I have lost the power 
 
 Of speech ! 
 
 Electra 
 
 What ails you? Wherefore do you say it? 
 Orestes 
 ■ Is this the illustrious Electra— you ? 
 
 Electra 
 That is it, and in case- right miserable. 
 
176 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Orestes 
 Alack therefore, for this thy wretched lot ! 
 
 Electra 
 Sir, you are not lamenting thus for me? 1180 
 
 Orestes 
 O beauty foully — impiously destroyed ! 
 
 Electra 
 
 The wretch you speak of is no other, sir, 
 Than T. 
 
 Orestes 
 
 Alas for thy estate, unwed, 
 Unfortunate ! 
 
 Electra 
 Why do you groan, sir, thus, 
 Gazing on me 1 
 
 Orestes 
 
 How did I nothing know 
 Of my own woes ! 
 
 Electra 
 
 By what, that has been said. 
 Did you discover that? 
 
 Orestes 
 
 By seeing you, 
 Preeminent in multitude of griefs. 
 
 Electra 
 And yet you see but little of my woes. 
 
 Orestes 
 How could there be worse things than these to see? 
 
 Electra 
 That I am sorted with the murderers. 1190 
 
ELECTRA 177 
 
 Orestes 
 Whose murderers? Whence is this hint of crime? 
 
 Electra 
 My father's. Next, I am perforce their slave. 
 
 Orestes 
 Who is it bends you to this exigence? 
 
 Electra 
 My mother — in name — but nothing mother-Hke. 
 
 Orestes 
 And how? by force, or wearing injury? 
 
 Electra 
 By force, by wearing, and all ills that be. 
 
 Orestes 
 And was none by to help or hinder it? 
 
 Electra 
 No ; him I had you have brought here in ashes. 
 
 Orestes 
 
 Ill-fated one, how has the sight of you 
 Moved my compassion ! 
 
 Electra 
 
 Know, you are the first 
 Who ever had compassion upon me. 1200 
 
 Orestes 
 Because I am the first to come, who feel 
 With your misfortunes. 
 
 Electra 
 It can never be 
 You are some kinsman, who have come— whence could you? 
 
 Orestes 
 If these are friends about us, I will tell, 
 y. A, 
 
178 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Electra 
 Yes, they are friends ; you parley to safe ears. 
 
 Orestes 
 Put down this vessel, now, and learn the whole. 
 
 Electra 
 Ah sir, for Heaven's sake urge not this on me ! 
 
 Orestes 
 Do as I tell you, and you shall not err. 
 
 Electra 
 
 Now, I adjure you, do not take away 
 My greatest treasure ! 
 
 Orestes 
 I will not let you hold it. 
 
 Electra 
 
 I O my Orestes ! Woe is me for thee, 
 I If I must be deprived of burying thee ! 
 
 Orestes 
 Do not speak rashly. You do wrong to mourn. 
 
 Electra 
 How wrong, in mourning for my brother dead? 
 
 Orestes 
 It is not meet that you should call him so. 
 
 Electra 
 Am I then so disdained of him that's dead? 
 
 Orestes 
 Disdained of none ; but you have no part here. 
 
 Electra 
 Not when I bear Orestes' ashes? 
 
ELECTRA 179 
 
 Orestes 
 
 Not 
 Orestes' ashes ; only his in feigning. 
 
 Electra 
 Then where is that poor body's sepulchre ? 
 
 Orestes 
 No where. The living have no sepulchre ! 
 
 Electra 
 What say you, fellow? 
 
 Orestes 
 What I say is true. 1220 
 
 Electra 
 Is he alive? 
 
 Orestes i 
 
 Yes, unless I am dead ! 
 
 Electra 
 What, are you he ? 
 
 Orestes 
 See here, my_father[s_s£al ! 
 Look at it well, and learn if I speak truly. 
 
 Electra 
 O happy day ! 
 
 Orestes 
 
 Most happy; even so. 
 
 Electra 
 O art thou come, dear voice? 
 
 Orestes 
 
 No more to sound 
 
 From alien lips. 
 
 Electra 
 
 What, have I got you? 
 
i8o SOPHOCLES 
 
 Orestes 
 
 Yes, 
 For you to keep, in future, evermore. 
 
 Electra 
 O dearest friends ! O ladies, neighbours ! Look, 
 Here is Orestes, only dead in craft. 
 And by that craft alive and safe at home ! 
 
 I Lady 
 
 Daughter, we see it; and the tears of joy 1230 
 
 Steal from our eyes, at what has come to pass. 
 
 Electra 
 
 O son, dear seed 
 Of one most dear to me ! 
 And art thou come indeed ? 
 Thou hast found — yea, come and seen those thou didst seek to see! 
 
 Orestes 
 Yes, I am here ; but hush, keep silence. 
 
 Electra 
 
 Why? 
 Orestes 
 Best to keep close, lest some one hear indoors. 
 
 Electra 
 
 Nay but, by the ever-virgin Artemis, 
 I never think to quail again at this, 1240 
 
 The cumbering plague of numbers feminine, 
 That ever swarm within ! 
 
 Orestes 
 I O but remember that in women too 
 ij There lives a spirit of war ; and thou hast proved it. 
 
 Electra 
 
 Ah well a day ! 
 Thou makest the memory plain — 
 
 That will not pass away — , 
 
 That cannot be forgotten — of my pain. 1250 
 
EL&CTRA 
 
 Orestes 
 
 Sister, I know it ; but, when occasion speaks. 
 Then is it we should call to mind these doings. 
 
 Electra 
 
 All day, all night, 
 Were not too much for me 
 To speak of them aright; 
 Now that my lips at last are set at liberty. 
 
 Orestes 
 
 I say not nay. But then, remember — 
 
 Electra 
 
 What? 
 
 Orestes 
 Where the time presses, do not talk too long. 
 Electra 
 
 rtTio, after thy appearing, would exchange 1260 
 
 Language for silence? That were dearly bought, 
 Now I have found thee, in a manner strange 
 Beyond all hope or thought ! 
 
 Orestes 
 You saw me then, when the Gods urged my coming. 
 Electra 
 
 O grace, far more 
 Than that thou first didst tell ! 
 If to thy kinsmen's door 
 God sent thee safe, that count I miracle ! ii^o 
 
 Orestes 
 I am unwilling to restrain your joy, 
 But fear you are too much overcome with rapture. 
 
 Electra 
 
 Oh, if after years of waiting 
 
 I have found thee condescending 
 
 By a way full fraught with blessing 
 
 Here before me to appear, 
 Seeing me so full of troubles, 
 Spare, O spare — 
 
1 82 SOPHOCLe.S 
 
 Orestes 
 
 What should I spare thee? 
 
 Electra 
 
 Be not thou so much my wronger 
 As to make me lose the pleasure 
 Of thy presence ! 
 
 Orestes 
 
 Nay, 
 I should be very wroth with other men 
 If I beheld them— 
 
 Electra 
 Do you say so ? 
 
 Orestes 
 
 How 
 
 Could I forbear? 1280 
 
 Electra 
 
 Tidings came, women dear, 
 I had never thought to hear ; 
 I refrained, and said no word, 
 And without one murmur heard, 
 Sorrowing ! But I have thee, now ! 
 With most sweet face there standest thou, 
 Face, that even in misery 
 Could not pass away from me. 
 
 Orestes 
 
 Pass, what need not be said ; spare me the telling 
 
 How base our mother ; how ^gisthus drains 
 
 The family substance, giving largess here, 1290 
 
 There scattering without purpose ; for the tale 
 
 Would keep you from the occasion time has given. 
 
 But what will fit the present urgency, 
 
 Where, either visible or from ambushment. 
 
 We may arrest our scoffing enemies 
 
 In this day's work, explain ; be careful, too, 
 
 That as we enter at the palace door 
 
 Your mother do not spy your secret out 
 
 In your glad aspect ; but be sighing, still, 
 
ELECTRA 183 
 
 As at that fiction of calamity ; 
 
 For when we are successful, we shall be 
 
 Free to rejoice and laugh ungrudgingly. 1300 
 
 Electra 
 
 Well, brother, as it pleases you in this, 
 
 So too shall be my pleasure; for from you 
 
 I have derived the blessings I enjoy — 
 
 Blessings not mine; and I could never bear. 
 
 By causing you annoy, ever so brief. 
 
 To reap great gain myself; for ill should I 
 
 So minister to the Providence at hand. 
 
 You know, no doubt, all that is passing here ; 
 
 You heard .^gisthus was away from home. 
 
 My mother in the palace ; and for her. 
 
 Fear not she will perceive my countenance 13 10 
 
 Radiant with smiles ; for my long-standing hate 
 
 Is well worn in ; and, having seen thy face, 
 
 I shall not leave off weeping now, for joy. 
 
 How should I leave it? who in this day's work 
 
 Saw thee first dead, then living ! Yea, thou hast wrought 
 
 Very strangely with me; so that if my sire 
 
 Were to come here in life, I should not now 
 
 Deem it a vision, but believe I saw him. 
 
 Since then by such a road thou art come hither. 
 
 Lead on, as thou art minded; for alone 
 
 One of two things I had not failed to achieve — 1320 
 
 Bravely to right myself, or bravely perish. 
 
 I Lady 
 
 Peace, I advise you ; for of those within 
 I hear one coming outward. 
 
 Electra 
 
 Enter, sirs ; 
 The rather that you bring — what none would drive 
 Far from their doors — or willingly receive ! 
 
184 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Enter Guardian. 
 
 Guardian 
 
 most unwise and impotent of mind, 
 Have you no longer any care to live, 
 Or is no natural prudence in you, that 
 
 You see not how you stand, not on the brink. 
 
 But in the very midst of straits most grievous? 1330 
 
 If I had not been watching all along 
 
 Close to the threshold, all your business here 
 
 Would have preceded you inside the house ; 
 
 But as it is, I took good heed of that. 
 
 Now make an end of your long conference, 
 
 And this insatiate crying out for joy, 
 
 And pass within ; for in such work as this 
 
 Delay is loss, and it is time to finish. 
 
 Orestes 
 How shall I find things there, if I go in? 
 
 Guardian 
 All's well so far, that you are quite unknown. 1340 
 
 Orestes 
 You have told them, I suppose, that I was dead? 
 
 Guardian 
 
 You'd think you were in Hades, though alive. 
 To hear them talk ! 
 
 Orestes 
 
 Do they rejoice at that? 
 What are they saying? 
 
 Guardian 
 
 When the time is full 
 
 1 will inform you ; but as things are now. 
 All they are doing, however ill, goes well. 
 
 Electra 
 Brother, who is this man ? For Heaven's sake, tell me ! 
 
ELECTRA 185 
 
 Orestes 
 Do you not know him ? 
 
 Electra 
 I cannot even guess. 
 
 Orestes 
 Not him, to whom you once delivered me ? 
 
 Electra 
 What man? what do you mean? 
 
 Orestes 
 
 Him, in whose hands 
 I was made off with to the Phocians' land 1350 
 
 By your providing? 
 
 Electra 
 What, is this the man 
 Whom only I found faithful out of many 
 When our sire perished? 
 
 Orestes 
 
 Once for all, 'tis he. 
 
 Electra 
 
 O happy day ! O only saviour 
 
 Of Agamemnon's house ! How art thou come hither ! 
 
 Art thou the man who from a crowd of woes 
 
 Preserved both him and me? O hands most dear! 
 
 O feet, most grateful for your ministry ! 
 
 How could' St thou so long hide thee in my presence, 
 
 And kill me with false words, and shew me not, 
 
 Knowing all the while, the sweet reality? 1360 
 
 Welcome, my father ! I seem to see a father ; 
 
 Welcome ! and know, thou art the man, of men. 
 
 Whom in one day I have hated most — and love ! 
 
 Guardian 
 Enough, I say ; the story of all since then 
 Many revolving nights and days as long 
 
1 86 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Shall make to pass before Electra's eyes. — • 
 
 But now I warn you both, you who stand by, 
 
 This is the time to act; now Clytsemnestra 
 
 Is left alone ; now no one of the men 
 
 Is within doors ; but if you will delay, 
 
 Consider, you will have to deal with these, 137° 
 
 And more besides, and of more wit, than they. 
 
 Orestes 
 
 This matter need not call upon us now 
 For any long discussion, Pylades ! 
 Rather, first worshipping the ancestral shrines 
 Of all the Gods who keep this vestibule, 
 As quickly as we may, let us pass in. 
 
 Exeunt Orestes, Pylades and Guardian. 
 
 Electra 
 
 King Apollo, hear them graciously. 
 
 And me as well ; me, who have come to thee 
 Right often, with persistent hand, that gave 
 Of all I had ; so now with all I have, 
 Apollo, King Lycean, I implore, 
 
 1 supplicate, I pray thee — go before, 1380 
 And help us in our ends ; and make mankind confess 
 How the Gods quit them, for their wickedness ! 
 
 Retires. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Behold where Ares, breathing forth the breath 
 
 Of strife and carnage, paces — paces on. 
 The inevitable hounds of death, 
 
 Hunters upon the track of guilt, are gone. 
 They stand the roof beneath ; 
 And now not long the vision of my prayer 
 Shall tarry, floating in the fields of air. iggo 
 
 For now within these walls, with stealthy pace, 
 The aider of the kingdoms of the dead 
 
ELECTRA 1S7 
 
 To his ancestral dwelling-place, 
 
 Bearing keen slaughter in his hands, is led. 
 Hermes, of Maia's race, 
 Hiding his toils in darkness, leads the way 
 Straight to the goal, and makes no more delay. 
 
 Electra (advancing 
 
 O dearest women, at this very time 
 
 The men are doing the deed; but hush, be still. 
 
 I Lady 
 
 How then? How are they doing? 
 
 Electra 
 
 She is dressing 1400 
 The urn for burial; and the Pair stand by. 
 
 I Lady 
 
 And what have you rushed out for? 
 
 Electra 
 
 To take care 
 ^gisthus come not in without our knowing. 
 
 Clyt/emnestra (within) 
 
 Woe's me ! Alack, the house- 
 Empty of friends, and full of murderers ! 
 
 Electra 
 
 A cry within! O friends, do not you hear it? 
 
 I Lady 
 
 I heard, unhappy, sounds I might not hear; 
 And I am chill with horror. 
 
 Clyt^mnestra {within) 
 Woe is me ! 
 ^gisthus, O where are you? 
 
 I Lady 
 
 Hark again, 
 Some one is shrieking loud. 
 
1 88 SOPHOCLES 
 
 CLYTiEMNESTRA {witkm) 
 
 O child, my child, 1410 
 
 Have mercy on your mother ! 
 
 Electra 
 
 Thou hadst none 
 On him, or on his father who begat him. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 O city, O race ill-starred ! 
 
 The curse is ever on thee, day by day, 
 
 To fade, and fade ! 
 
 Clyt^mnestra (within) 
 
 O, I am smitten ! 
 
 Electra 
 
 If thou beest a man, 
 Strike twice ! 
 
 Clyt/Emnestra {within) 
 Again ! 
 
 Electra 
 O for .^gisthus too! 
 
 Chorus 
 
 The curse is fulfilled. 
 
 They live, who lie in the grave. 
 
 Slain long since, they drink, at last, 1420 
 
 The blood of their slayers, in turn. 
 
 I Lady 
 See, they come forth ! Their fingers drip with gore 
 Poured out on Ares' altar. I am dumb. 
 
 Enter Orestes and Pylades. 
 Electra 
 How is it with you, Orestes ? 
 
 Orestes 
 
 In the house 
 Well ; if Apollo's oracle be well. 
 
ELECTRA 189 
 
 Electra 
 Is the wretch dead? 
 
 Orestes 
 
 No longer be afraid 
 Thy mother's pride shall trample on thee more. 
 
 I Lady 
 Cease, for I see ^gisthus full in view ! 
 
 Electra 
 Back, boys ! 
 
 Orestes 
 
 Where do you see the man? 1430 
 
 Electra 
 
 He comes 
 Towards us from the precincts, gay at heart. 
 
 I Lady 
 
 Make for the entrance, quick ! 
 
 Now, as ye have well achieved the former task, 
 
 Finish this too! 
 
 Orestes 
 Be easy ; we will do it. 
 
 Electra 
 
 Go your ways. 
 
 Orestes 
 I am gone. 
 
 Electra 
 
 I will provide for matters here. 
 
 Exeunt Orestes and Pylades. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 'Twere well to pronounce 
 
 Brief words in this man's ear, 
 
 Mildly couched, that he may rush 1440 
 
 On the hidden struggle of doom. 
 
19° SOPHOCLES 
 
 Enter ^gisthus. 
 
 ^GISTHUS 
 
 Which of you knows, where are those Phocian strangers 
 
 They say have brought us tidings that Orestes 
 
 Has lost his life, by shipwreck of his team ? 
 
 You there, my question is of you, yes, you 
 
 That used before to be so malapert ; 
 
 For it concerns you most, I think, to know. 
 
 And more than all, it is for you to say. 
 
 Electra 
 I know. How could I help it? Otherwise 
 I should be ignorant of calamity 
 Nearest to me — of mine. 
 
 ./Egisthus 
 
 And where may be 1450 
 
 The strangers? tell me, pray. 
 
 Electra 
 
 They are within. 
 They — fell on a kind hostess ! 
 
 ^GISTHUS 
 
 Did they say 
 That he is dead in very earnest ? 
 
 Electra 
 
 Nay, 
 They brought and shewed it us— not merely told us. 
 
 .iEciSTHUS 
 
 Is it hard by, that I may see, and know? 
 
 Electra 
 You may, indeed — a very sorry sight. 
 
 ^gisthus 
 Your words have pleased me much; which is not usual. 
 
ELECTRA 191 
 
 Electra 
 If they can give you pleasure, pray be pleased. 
 
 ^GISTHUS 
 
 Now hold your peace, and open wide the gates. 
 
 For Myceneans, Argives — all to see, 
 
 So that, if any of them heretofore 1460 
 
 Were buoyed by empty hopes of such an one. 
 
 Seeing him now dead, they may accept my curb. 
 
 And, having me for master, may not need 
 
 To be compelled to bring forth fruits of wisdom ! 
 
 Electra 
 
 It is all done, on my part; for at last 
 
 I have the wit to choose the stronger side. 
 
 The scene opens, disclosing the body of CLVTiEMNESTRA, veiled ; 
 Orestes and Pylades standing by. 
 
 .(Egisthus 
 O Zeus, I fix my gaze upon a corpse 
 That has not fallen, but by the wrath of Heaven. 
 Nay, if it move thee, Nemesis, I unsay it ! 
 Loosen all coverings from before my face, 
 That of me too my kindred may obtain 
 The meed of mourning. 
 
 Electra 
 
 Take them off yourself. 147° 
 
 To see this corpse, and speak with amity, 
 Is not my work, but yours. 
 
 ^gisthus 
 
 Well, you say true, 
 And I will do your bidding; in mean while, 
 If she is in the house, call Clytsemnestra. 
 
 He raises the veil. 
 Orestes 
 Seek her no further; she is at your side. 
 
192 SOPHOCLES 
 
 ^GISTHUS 
 
 what is this? 
 
 Orestes 
 
 Who is it, whom you fear? 
 Who is it, whom you do not recognize ? 
 
 ^GISTHUS 
 
 Who are the men into whose very toils 
 
 1 have fallen, unhappy? 
 
 Orestes 
 
 Did you never dream 
 You parleyed with the living as the dead ? 
 
 ^GISTHUS 
 
 me, I understand you ! It must be 
 
 No other than Orestes speaks to me. 1480 
 
 Orestes 
 Excellent seer ! and yet so long deceived ! 
 
 ^gisthus 
 
 1 am lost, miserably ! But suffer me 
 To speak a little — 
 
 Electra 
 
 Brother, in Heaven's name 
 Let him no further talk, and make long speeches. 
 Once overtaken by calamity. 
 What profit should a man who is to die 
 Draw from delay? Nay, kill him on the spot. 
 And cast him forth, slain, to such buriers 
 As it is fitting he should meet withal. 
 Out of our eye-sight ! This alone can be 
 An expiation for my wrongs of old. 1490 
 
 Orestes 
 Go thou within, with speed. The contest now 
 Lies not in words, but for thy life-blood. 
 
ELECTRA 193 
 
 ^GISTHUS 
 
 Nay, 
 Why do you drag me to the house? What need 
 Of darkness, if the deed is honourable? 
 Why are you backward to despatch me here? 
 
 Orestes 
 
 Prescribe not thou ! Pass, where thou slew'st my father. 
 And perish there. 
 
 ^GISTHUS 
 
 Is it fated that this roof 
 Must witness all the ills of Pelops' race. 
 That are, or shall be ? 
 
 Orestes 
 
 Thine, at any rate. 
 I am soothsayer good enough to tell thee that ! 
 
 .^GISTHUS 
 
 The craft you boast was not inherited, then! 1500 
 
 Orestes 
 
 Thou prat'st, and prat'st; and the way lengthens out; 
 Move on. 
 
 .(Egisthus 
 Lead forward. 
 
 Orestes 
 
 Thou must foot it first. 
 
 ^GISTHUS 
 
 Lest I escape thee? 
 
 Orestes 
 
 Rather, that thy soul 
 May not pass easily; this bitterness 
 I must reserve for thee. And well it were 
 If this quick justice could be dealt on all— 
 
 V. A. '3 
 
194 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Whoever will transgress the bounds of right, 
 To strike him dead. Kills ^gisthus. 
 
 So should not villany thrive. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 O Atreus' seed ! 
 How hardly, after many labours past, 
 Thou art come forth to liberty at last. 
 
 Through this new trial perfected indeed ! 1510 
 
 Exeunt omnes. 
 
NOTES 
 
 21. I follow Professor Jebb's reading, Iv iaraji-ai. 
 
 87. This is usually rendered " air coextensive with earth." Lite- 
 rally it is " air that shares equally with earth." The question is, in what 
 is it that air and earth are said to share? Surely in light, the first object 
 addressed, and the only subject of the verb, ■§a9ov. Earth and air are 
 attested as the domains of light ; this is good poetry and good sense ; 
 but the statement that earth and air are coextensive is a mere cosmical 
 proposition, of no poetical importance whatever. 
 
 107. TeKi/o\h-eipa is "child-destroying," with a mythological allu- 
 sion to the story of Itys and Philomela. 
 
 1 14. I do not follow Dindorf in omitting this and the preceding 
 line, but read al toOs eims, k.t.X. 
 
 244. I do not adopt Dindorf 's alteration, 7S, nor his punctuation of 
 1. 316. 
 
 550. This line has been differently rendered in four ways, according 
 as the "just opinion " is taken to be that of Clytsemnestra, or of Electra, 
 and according as Electra is held to be exhorted to blame her own party, 
 or her relations, i.e. her foes. I follow the interpretation which is 
 supported by the greatest number of authorities. Dindorf's punctuation 
 favours a different view. 
 
 691. I follow Person's correction, d8X airep. 
 
 734. See the capital story told by Sir F. Doyle, in his Reminiscences, 
 p. 93. His view is now generally adopted by scholars. 
 
 746. My interpretation of T/iT/roiS lixaai differs from those usually 
 followed. The significant repetition of the adjective with oX/fois, 1. 861, 
 makes it difficult for me to regard it as a mere otiose epithet, " shapely," 
 or "dainty," or "cut out" as opposed to "twisted." Moreover 
 Sophocles does not appear to use such epithets, as Homer does. If we 
 consult the representations of war or racing chariots given on vases, we 
 find (British Museum, E. 82, 273, &c; Gerhardt, Auserlesene Griechische 
 
 13—2 
 
196 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Vasmbilder, IV. CCLII. CCLin ; Monumenti Inediti, IV. LIV.) that the 
 right and left hand reins were not continuous in early times, but consisted 
 of eight separate straps, of equal length, the right and left hand four 
 respectively being usually braced or knotted together just over the horses' 
 hind-quarters, and divided by a rope or rail, which passed from the front 
 of the chariot to a tall peg fixed either in the yoke or pole. If a chario- 
 teer, slipping over the front of the chariot, were caught in one of the 
 forks or clefts of the reins occasioned by these knots, he would hardly 
 be able to extricate himself. It is not the case, as Professor Campbell 
 supposes, that the driver, in Greece, at this period, passed the reins round 
 his body ; and I do not think this is implied by Eur. Hip. 122T. 
 
 It is physically impossible that such a fall could have been back- 
 wards, as Professor Paley thinks, or that a driver falling backwards 
 could be entangled in the reins. 
 
 The " giving rein " to the right hand trace horse, and " pulling in " 
 of the left hand one, would on this hypothesis be effected by a simple 
 movement of both hands to the right. It is to be observed that the 
 slipping of individual reins back or forward in the grasp would, with four 
 separate straps, unknotted, in each hand, be both difficult and unsafe. 
 
 822. Compare Shakespeare's Rich. II. Act v. Sc. 5, 103 : 
 " Patience is stale, and I am weary of it." 
 
 861. Schiller, who was intimately acquainted with this play, has 
 made excellent use of this circumstance of horror, in the agony of 
 Thekla— 
 
 " Ward ihm sanft 
 Gebettet, unter den Hufen seiner Rosse ? " 
 
 Wall. Tod, Act IV. Sc. 5. 
 
 He is less happy, when he recurs to the Electra for assistance in the 
 parting between Max and Wallenstein, and transfers to the old warrior 
 Electra's ^71!; Tp6<pos, &c. , 1. 1147. — 
 
 " Ich selbst war deine Wiirterin, nicht schamt' ich 
 Der kleinen Dienste mich, ich pflegte deiner 
 Mit weiblich sorgender Geschaftigkeit. 
 
 882. I do not adopt Dindorf's reading vQ, nor his woTfiov in 1. 
 I075- 
 
 1086. I follow Professor Jebb in the interpretation of this diflScult 
 passage. If Electra is praised in the strophe for aiming at the " double 
 prize," it would make an anticHmax, that she should be congratulated 
 in the antistrophe on obtaining the single, though higher reward. 
 
 1 160. Lord Beaconsfield was unfortunate in his references to 
 Sophocles. There is a ludicrous misquotation (through defect) from this 
 passage in his life of Lord George Bentinck, p. 585. 
 
ELECTRA 197 
 
 1 162. See Shakespeare, /"mt-fo, Act III. Sc. 1. 56. Interesting as 
 it is to trace resemblances of expression in the works of the greatest 
 poets, it is not to be suggested that Shakespeare consciously or uncon- 
 sciously borrowed from Sophocles, except possibly on one occasion only, 
 O. T. 1415. 
 
 1354. If "dearest light" meant "dearest sight," and referred to 
 the old servant's face, then in 1. 1224 it must similarly refer to Orestes. 
 But this is precluded by Orestes' answer. 
 
 1414. I adopt Hermann's reading. Mr Whitelaw's makes the doom 
 fade, not the house. Otherwise, he argues, the deed of Orestes would 
 be spoken of as a new " crime." But why a crime ? It is a new stage, 
 anyhow, in the extinction of the house of Pelops, and as such, a new 
 manifestation of the doom. 
 
 1507. I consider jEgisthus to be struck dead with the first word of 
 this line, as he comes within the shadow of the fateful roof. It is quite 
 unnecessary to suppose him walked off the stage, in order that he may 
 be killed inside, in the bath-room, after the play is ended. See 1. 1497. 
 
 My obligations in this play are chiefly to the renderings given in the 
 notes to Professor Jebb's edition of 1867; see 11. 277, 323, 568, 731, 
 781, 1433. Also to Professor Campbell in 1. 135, and to Dean Plumptre 
 in 1. 347. 
 
OEDIPUS TYRANNUS 
 
OEDIPUS TYRANNUS 
 
 PERSONS REPRESENTED 
 
 CEdipus, King of Thebes. 
 
 Priest of Zeus. 
 
 Creon, brother to Jocasta the Queen. 
 
 TiRESIAS, a Prophet, with the title of King. 
 
 A Messenger from. Corinth. 
 
 Ati old Shepherd. 
 
 A Second Messenger, servant of CEdipus' household. 
 
 Jocasta the Queen, wife to CEdipus, formerly married to 
 
 Laius, the last king. 
 
 Antigone, ) , , ^ ,. 
 
 > daughters to CEdipus and focasta. 
 
 The Chorus is composed of Senators of Thebes. 
 Inhabitants of Thebes, Attendants. 
 A Boy leading Tiresias. 
 
OEDIPUS TYRANNUS 
 
 Scene, before the Royal Palace at Thebes. Enter CEdipus; 
 to him the Priest of Zeus, and Inhabitants of Thebes. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Children, you modern brood of Cadmus old, 
 
 What mean you, sitting in your sessions here, 
 
 High-coronalled with votive olive-boughs, 
 
 While the whole city teems with incense-smoke, 
 
 And paean-hymns, and sounds of woe the while? 
 
 Deeming unmeet, my children, this to learn 
 
 From others, by the mouth of messengers, 
 
 I have come here in person, CEdipus, 
 
 Known far and wide by name. Do you, old man. 
 
 Since 'tis your privilege to speak for these, lo 
 
 Say in what case you stand ; if of alarm, 
 
 Or satisfaction with my readiness 
 
 To afford all aid ; hard-hearted should I be. 
 
 Did I not pity such petitioners. 
 
 Priest 
 
 Great CEdipus, my country's governor. 
 
 Thou seest our generations, who besiege 
 
 Thy altars here; some not yet strong enough 
 
 To flutter far ; some priests, with weight of years 
 
 Heavy, myself of Zeus ; and these, the flower 
 
 Of our young manhood ; all the other folk 
 
 Sit, with like branches, in the market-place, 20 
 
 By the Ismenian hearth oracular 
 
264 50PH0CLES 
 
 And the twin shrines of Pallas. Lo, the city 
 
 Labours — thyself art witness — over-deep 
 
 Already, powerless to uprear her head 
 
 Out of the abysses of a surge of blood; 
 
 Stricken in the budding harvest of her soil, 
 
 Stricken in her pastured herds, and barren travail 
 
 Of women ; and the God with spear of fire, 
 
 Most abhorred Pestilence, falls on the town 
 
 And vexes it ; so that the Cadmean home 
 
 Is all dispeopled, and the obscure Grave 
 
 With sighings and with groans made opulent. 30 
 
 Not that we count thee as the peer of Heaven, 
 
 I, nor these children, seat us at thy hearth ; 
 
 But as of men found foremost in affairs, 
 
 Chances of life and shifts of Providence; 
 
 Whose coming to our Cadmean town released 
 
 The toll we paid, of a hard Sorceress, 
 
 And that, without instruction or advice 
 
 Of our imparting; but of Heaven it came 
 
 Thou art named, and known, our life's establisher. 
 
 Thee therefore, CEdipus, the mightiest head 40 
 
 Among us all, all we thy supplicants 
 
 Implore to find some way to succour us, 
 
 Whether thou knowest it through some voice from heaven. 
 
 Or, haply, as of some man ; for I perceive 
 
 In men experienced that their counsels best 
 
 Find correspondence in things actual. 
 
 Haste thee, most absolute sir, be the state's builder ! 
 
 Haste thee, look to it; doth not our country now 
 
 Call thee deliverer, for thy zeal of yore? 
 
 Never let us remember of thy rule 
 
 That we stood once erectly, and then fell; 50 
 
 But build this city in stability! 
 
 With a fair augury didst thou shape for us 
 
 Our fortune then ; like be thy prowess now ! 
 
 If thou wilt rule this land (which thou art lord of), 
 
 It were a fairer lordship filled with folk 
 
 Than empty; towers and ships are nothingness. 
 
 Void of our fellow men to inhabit them. 
 
OEDIPUS TYRANNUS 205 
 
 CEdipus 
 Ah my poor children, what you come to seek 
 Is known already — not unknown to me. 
 You are all sick, I know it ; and in your sickness 60 
 There is not one of you so sick as I. 
 For in your case his own particular pain 
 Comes to each singly; but my heart at once 
 Groans for the city, and for myself, and you. 
 Not therefore as one taking rest in sleep 
 Do you uprouse me ; rather deem of me 
 As one that wept often, and often came 
 By many ways through labyrinths of care ; 
 And the one remedy that I could find 
 By careful seeking — I have taken it. ' 
 
 Creon my wife's brother and Menceceus' son 70 
 
 I sent to Pytho, to Apollo's house, 
 To ask him by what act or word of mine 
 I might redeem this city; and the hours 
 Already measured even with today 
 Make me sohcitous how he has sped; 
 For he is longer absent than the time 
 Sufficient, which is strange. When he shall come, 
 I were a wretch did I not then do all 
 As the God shews. 
 
 Priest 
 In happy time thou speak'st ; 
 As these, who tell me Creon is at band. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Ah King Apollo, might he but bring grace, 80 
 
 Radiant in fortune, as he is in face ! 
 
 Priest 
 I think he comes with cheer ; he would not, else, 
 Have been advancing thus, with crown on brow 
 All berries of the bay. 
 
 CEdipus 
 We shall know soon ; 
 He is within hearing. '\y 
 
2o6 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Enter Creon, attended. 
 My good lord and cousin, 
 Son of Menoeceus, 
 What answer of the God have you brought home? 
 
 Creon 
 Favourable; I mean, even what sounds ominous. 
 If it have issue in the natural way. 
 May all end well. 
 
 (Ed I PUS 
 How runs the oracle? 
 I am not confident, nor prone to fear 90 
 
 At what you say, so far. 
 
 Creon 
 
 If you desire 
 To hear while these stand near us, I am ready 
 To speak at once — or to go in with you. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Speak before all ! My heavy load of care 
 More for their sake than for my own 1 bear. 
 
 Creon 
 What the God told me, that will I declare. 
 Phoebus our Lord gives us express command 
 To drive pollution, bred within this land. 
 Out of the country, and not cherish it 
 Beyond the power of healing. 
 
 CEdipus 
 By what purge ? 
 What is the nature of the tragedy? 
 
 Creon 
 Exile, or recompense of death for death; 100 
 
 Since 'tis this blood makes winter to the city. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Whose fate is this he signifies? 
 
OEDIPUS TYR ANNUS 207 
 
 Creon 
 
 My liege, 
 We had a leader once over this land, 
 Called Laius — ere you held the helm of state. 
 
 OEdipus 
 
 So I did hear; I never saw the man. 
 
 Creon 
 
 The man is dead ; and now, we are clearly bidden 
 To bring to account certain his murderers. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 And where on earth are they? Where shall be found 
 This dim-seen track-mark of an ancient crime? 
 
 Creon 
 
 "Within this land," it ran. That which is sought, no 
 That may be caught. What is unheeded scapes us. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Was it in house, or field, or anywhere 
 In foreign parts, that Laius thus got slain? 
 
 Creon 
 
 He went professedly on pilgrimage; 
 
 But since he started, came back home no more. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Nor any messenger nor way-fellow 
 
 Looked on, from whom one might have learnt his story 
 
 And used it? 
 
 Creon 
 No, they perished, all but one; 
 He fled, affrighted ; and of what he saw 
 Had but one thing to say for certain. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Well 
 And what was that? one thing might be the means 120 
 
2o8 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Of our discovering many, could we gain 
 Some narrow ground for hope. 
 
 Creon 
 
 Robbers, he said, 
 Met them, and slew him ; by no single strength, 
 But multitude of hands. 
 
 QSdipus 
 
 How could your robber 
 Have dared so far — except there were some practice 
 With gold from hence? 
 
 Creon 
 
 Why, it seemed probable. 
 But, Laius dead, no man stood up to help 
 Amid our ills. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 What ill was in the way. 
 Which, when a sovereignty had lapsed like this, 
 Kept you from searching of it out? 
 
 Creon 
 
 The Sphinx 130 
 
 With her enigma forced us to dismiss 
 Things out of sight, and look to our own steps. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Well, I will have it all to light again. 
 
 Right well did Phcebus, yea and well did you 
 
 Insist on this observance toward the dead ; 
 
 So shall you see me, as of right, with you, 
 
 Venging this country and the God together. 
 
 Why, 'tis not for my neighbours' sake, but mine, 
 
 I shall dispel this plague-spot ; for the man. 
 
 Whoever it may be, who murdered him. 
 
 Lightly might hanker to serve me the same. 140 
 
 I benefit myself in aiding him, 
 
OEDIPUS TYRANNUS 209 
 
 Up then, my children, straightway, from the floor; 
 Take up your votive branches ; let some other 
 Gather the tribes of Cadmus hitherward ; 
 Say, I will make clean work. Please Heaven, our state 
 Shall soon appear happy, or desperate. 
 
 Priest 
 
 Come children, let us rise ; it was for this. 
 
 Which he himself proclaims, that we came hither. 
 
 Now may the Sender of these oracles, 
 
 In saving and in plague-staying, Phoebus, come! 150 
 
 Exeunt Creon, Priest and Thebans. CEdipus retires. 
 
 Enter Theban Senators, as Chorus- 
 Chorus 
 I. I. 
 
 Prophecy of Jove, whose words are sweet, 
 With what doom art thou sent 
 
 To glorious Thebes, from Pytho's gilded seat? 
 
 1 am distraught with fearful wonderment, 
 I thrill with terror, and wait reverently— 
 Yea, lo PfEan, Delian lord, on thee! 
 
 What matter thou wilt compass— either strange, 
 Or once again recurrent as the seasons change, 
 Offspring of golden Hope, immortal Oracle, 
 Tell me, O tell ! 
 
 Athena first I greet with invocation, 
 
 Daughter of Jove, divine ! 
 
 Next Artemis thy sister, who this nation 160 
 
 Keepeth, high seated in the encircling shrine. 
 
 Filled with her praises, of our market-place, 
 
 And Phoebus, shooting arrows far through space; 
 
 Appear ye Three, the averters of my fate ! 
 
 If e'er before, when mischief rose upon the state, 
 
 Ye quenched the flames of evil, putting them away, 
 
 Come— come to-day! 
 
 y. A. 
 
 14 
 
SOPHOCLES 
 
 II. I. 
 
 Woe, for unnumbered are the ills we bear ! 
 
 Sickness pervades our hosts; '7° 
 
 Nor is there any spear of guardian care, 
 
 Wherewith a man might save us, found in all our coasts. 
 
 For all the fair soil's produce now no longer springs ; 
 
 Nor women from the labour and loud cries 
 
 Of their child-births arise ; 
 
 And you may see, flying like a bird with wings, 
 
 One after one, outspeeding the resistless brand, 
 
 Pass — to the Evening Land. 
 
 II. 2. 
 
 In countless hosts our city perisheth. 
 
 Her children on the plain i8o 
 
 Lie all unpitied — pitiless — breeding death. 
 
 Our wives meanwhile, and white-haired mothers in their train. 
 
 This way and that, suppliant, along the altar-side 
 
 Sit, and bemoan their doleful maladies ; 
 
 Like flame their pseans rise, 
 
 With wailing and lament accompanied; 
 
 For whose dear sake O Goddess, O Jove's golden child, 
 
 Send Help with favour mild ! 
 
 in. 1. 
 
 And Ares the Destroyer, him who thus — igo 
 
 Not now in harness of brass shields, as wont — 
 Ringed round with clamour, meets us front to front 
 And fevers us, 
 
 banish from our country ! Drive him back, 
 With winds upon his track. 
 
 On to the chamber vast of Amphitrite, 
 
 Or that lone anchorage, the Thracian main ; 
 
 For now, if night leave bounds to our annoy. 
 
 Day levels all again ; 
 
 Wherefore, O father, Zeus, thou that dost wield the might 200 
 
 Of fire-fraught light, 
 
 Him with thy bolt destroy ! 
 
 in. .!. 
 
 Next, from the bendings of thy golden string 
 
 1 would see showered thy artillery 
 Invincible, marshalled to succour me, 
 Lycean ICing! 
 
 Next, those flame-bearing beams, arrows most bright, 
 Which Artemis by night 
 
OEDIPUS TYRANNUS 
 
 Through Lycian highlands speeds her scattering; 
 
 Thou too, the Evian, with thy Msenad band, 
 
 Thou golden-braided patron of this land 2:0 
 
 Whose visage glows with wine, 
 
 O save us from the god whom no gods honour ! Hear, 
 
 Bacchus ! Draw near. 
 
 And light thy torch of pine! 
 
 Enter CEdipus, attended. 
 
 OJdipus 
 You are at prayers ; but for your prayers' intent 
 You may gain help, and of your ills relief. 
 If you will minister to the pestilence. 
 And hearken and receive my words, which I — 
 A stranger to this tale, and to the deed 220 
 
 A stranger — shall pronounce ; for of myself 
 I could not follow up the traces far, 
 Not having any key. But, made since then 
 A fellow-townsman to the townsmen here, 
 To all you Cadmeans I thus proclaim; 
 Whichever of you knows the man, by whom 
 Laius the son of Labdacus was slain. 
 Even if he is afraid, having himself 
 Suppressed the facts that made against himself, 
 I bid that man shew the whole truth to me; 
 For he shall suffer no disparagement. 
 Except to quit the land, unscathed. Again, 230 
 
 If any knows another — say some stranger , 
 
 To have been guilty, let him not keep silence ; 
 For I will pay him the reward, and favour 
 Shall be his due beside it. But again, 
 If you will hold your peace, and any man 
 From self or friend in terror shall repel 
 This word of mine, then^-you must hear me say 
 What I shall do. Whoe'er he be, I order 
 That of this land, whose power and throne are mine, 
 None entertain him, none accost him, none 
 Cause him to share in prayers or sacrifice 
 Offered to Heaven, or pour him lustral wave, 240 
 
 14—2 
 
212 SOPHOCLES 
 
 But all men from their houses banish him ; 
 
 Since it is he contaminates us all, 
 
 Even as the Pythian oracle divine 
 
 Revealed but now to me. Such is my succour 
 
 Of him that's dead, and of the Deity. 
 
 And on the guilty head I imprecate 
 
 That whether by himself he has lain covert. 
 
 Or joined with others, without happiness. 
 
 Evil, in evil, he may pine and die. 
 
 And for myself I pray, if with my knowledge 
 
 He should become an inmate of my house, 250 
 
 That I may suffer all that I invoked 
 
 On these just now. Moreover all these things 
 
 I charge you to accomplish, in behalf 
 
 Of me, and of the God, and of this land, 
 
 So ruined, barren and forsaken of Heaven. 
 
 For even though the matter had not been 
 
 By Heaven enjoined you, 'twas unnatural 
 
 You should have suffered it to pass uncleansed, 
 
 A man most noble having been slain, a king too ! 
 
 Rather, you should have searched it out; but now, 
 
 Since I am vested with the government 
 
 Which he held once, and have his marriage-bed, 
 
 And the same wife ; and since our progeny — 260 
 
 If his had not miscarried — had sprung from us 
 
 With common ties of common motherhood — 
 
 Only that Fate came heavy upon his head — 
 
 On these accounts I, as for my own father. 
 
 Will fight this fight, and follow out every clue, 
 
 Seeking to seize the author of his murder — 
 
 The scion of Labdacus and Polydore 
 
 And earlier Cadmus and Agenor old ; 
 
 And such as disobey — the Gods I ask 
 
 Neither to raise them harvest from the ground 270 
 
 Nor children from the womb, but that they perish 
 
 By this fate present, and yet worse than this; 
 
 While you, the other Cadmeans, who approve. 
 
 Justice assist with favour evermore, 
 
 And all the Gods accompany for good J 
 
OEDIPUS TYR ANNUS 213 
 
 I Senator 
 
 Even as thou didst adjure me, so, my king, 
 
 I will reply. I neither murdered him, 
 
 Nor can point out the murderer. For the quest — 
 
 To tell us who on earth has done this deed 
 
 Belonged to Phoebus, by whose word it came. 
 
 CEdipus \ 
 
 Well urged; but to compel divinities , 280 
 
 To what they will not, passes all men's power. 
 
 I Senator 
 
 I would say something which appears to me 
 The second chance to this. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 And your third, also — 
 If such you have — by all means tell it. 
 
 I Senator 
 
 Sir, 
 Tiresias above all men, I am sure. 
 Ranks as a seer next Phoebus, king with king; 
 Of him we might enquire and learn the truth j 
 With all assurance. 
 
 QiDIPUS 
 
 That is what I did; 
 And with no slackness; for by Creon's advice 
 I sent, twice over; and for some time, now, 
 'Tis strange he is not here. 
 
 I Senator 
 
 Then all the rest 
 Are but stale words and dumb. 290 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 What sort of words? 
 I am weighing every utterance. 
 
214 50PH0CLRS 
 
 I Senator 
 
 He was said 
 To have been killed by footpads. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 So I heard ; 
 But he who saw it is himself unseen. 
 
 I Senator 
 
 Well, if his bosom holds a grain of fear, 
 Curses like yours he never will abide ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 Whom the deed awed not, speaking will not scare. 
 
 I Senator 
 
 Then there is one to expose him : here they come, 
 Bringing the godlike seer, the only man 
 Who has in him the tongue that cannot lie. 
 
 Enter Tiresias, led by a Boy. 
 CEdipus 
 
 Tiresias, thou who searchest everything, 300 
 
 Communicable or nameless, both in heaven 
 
 And on the earth — thou canst not see the city. 
 
 But knowest no less what pestilence visits it, 
 
 Wherefrom our only saviour and defence 
 
 We find, sir king, in thee. For Phoebus — if 
 
 Thou dost not know it from the messengers — 
 
 To us, who sent to ask him, sent word back. 
 
 That from this sickness no release should come, 
 
 Till we had found and slain the men who slew 
 
 Laius, or driven them, banished, from the land. 
 
 Wherefore do thou — not sparing augury, 310 
 
 Either through birds, or any other way 
 
 Thou hast of divination — save thyself. 
 
 And save the city, and me; save the whole mass 
 
 By this dead corpse infected ; for in thee 
 
OEDIPUS TYRANJStUS 215 
 
 Stands our existence ; and for men, to help 
 With might and main is of all tasks the highest. 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 Alas, alas ! How heavy a thing is wisdom, 
 Wliere it can serve no purpose to be wise ! 
 And I forgat it, though I knew this well; 
 Else I had not come hither. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 But what is it? 
 How out of heart thou hast come ! 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 Let me go home; 320 
 
 So shalt thou bear thy load most easily — 
 If thou wilt take my counsel — and I mine. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Thou speak'st not loyally, nor with goodwill 
 Towards the State that bred thee, cheating her 
 Of this response! 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 Because I do not see 
 Thy words, not even thine, going to the mark; 
 So, not to be in the same plight — 
 
 QiDIPUS 
 
 For Heaven's sake. 
 If thou hast knowledge, do not turn away, 
 When all of us implore thee suppliant ! 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 Ye 
 Have all no knowledge; but I never will 
 Reveal my troubles— that I say not thine. 
 
 CEdipus 
 What, you do know, and will not speak? Your mind 330 
 Is to betray us, and destroy the city? 
 
2i6 SOPliOCLMS 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 '' I will not bring remorse upon myself 
 And upon you. Why do you search these matters? 
 Vain, vain ! I will not tell you. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Worst of traitors ! 
 For you would rouse a very stone to wrath — 
 Will you not speak out ever, but stand thus 
 Relentless and persistent? 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 My offence 
 You censure ; but your own, at home, you see not. 
 And yet blame me ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Who would not take offence, 
 Hearing the words in which you flout the city? 340 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 Well, it will come; keep silence as I may. 
 
 CEdipus 
 And what will come should I not hear from you ? 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 I will declare no further. Storm at this, 
 
 If 't please you, to the wildest height of anger ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 At least I will not, being so far in anger. 
 
 Spare anything of what is clear to me : 
 
 Know, I suspect you joined to hatch the deed; 
 
 Yea, did it — all but slaying with your own hands ; 
 
 And if you were not blind, I should aver 
 
 The act was your work only ! 
 
OEDIPUS TYR ANNUS 217 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 Was it so? 
 I charge you to abide by your decree 350 
 
 As you proclaimed it ; nor from this day forth 
 Speak word to these, or me ; being of this land I 
 Yourself the abominable contaminator ! ' 
 
 OEdipus 
 So shamelessly set you this story on foot, 
 And think, perhaps, you shall go free? 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 I am 
 Free ! for I have in me the strength of truth. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Who prompted you? for from your art it was not! 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 Yourself! You made me speak, against my will. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Speak! What? Repeat, that I may learn it better! 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 Did you not understand me at first hearing, 360 
 
 Or are you tempting me, when you say "Speak!" 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Not so to say for certain; speak again. 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 I say that you are Laius' murderer — 
 He whom you seek. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Not without chastisement 
 Shall you twice over utter wounds ! 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 Then shall I 
 Say something else, that may incense you more? 
 
2i8 SOPHOCLES 
 
 OllDIPUS 
 
 Just as you please ; it will be said in vain. 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 I say you know not the deep infamy 
 Of your relations with those nearest you, 
 And see not in what evil plight you stand. 
 
 OEdipus 
 
 Do you expect to go on revelling 
 In utterances like this? 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 Yes, if the truth 
 Has any force at all. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Why so it has. 
 Except for you; it is not so with you; 370 
 
 Blind as you are in eyes, and ears, and mind ! 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 Fool, you reproach me as not one of these 
 Shall not reproach you, soon ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 You cannot hurt me, 
 Nor any other who beholds the light, 
 Your life being all one night. 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 Nor is it fated 
 You by my hand should fall ; Apollo is 
 Sufficient; he will bring it all to pass. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Are these inventions Creon's work, or yours? 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 Your bane is no-ways Creon, but your own self. 
 
OEDIPUS TYR ANNUS 219 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 O riches, and dominion, and the craft 380 
 
 That excels craft, and makes life enviable, 
 
 How vast the grudge that is nursed up for you, 
 
 When for this sovereignty, which the state 
 
 Committed to my hands, unsought-for, free, . 
 
 Creon, the trusty, the familiar friend. 
 
 With secret mines covets to oust me from it, 
 
 And has suborned a sorcerer like this, ,! 
 
 An engine-botching crafty cogging knave, 
 
 Who has no eyes to see with, but for gain, 
 
 And was born blind in the art ! Why, tell me now, 
 
 How stand your claims to prescience? How came it, 
 
 When the oracular monster was alive, 391 
 
 You said no word to set this people free? 
 
 And yet it was not for the first that came 
 
 To solve her riddle; sooth was needed then. 
 
 Which you could not afford; neither from birds. 
 
 Nor any inspiration; till I came, 
 
 The unlettered CEdipus, and ended her. 
 
 By sleight of wit, untaught of augury — 
 
 I whom you now seek to expel, in hope 
 
 To stand upon the steps of Creon's throne ! 400 
 
 You and the framer of this plot methinks 
 
 Shall rue your exorcism ! Dotard you seem, 
 
 Else by experience you had recognized 
 
 What thoughts these are you think ! 
 
 I Senator 
 
 As we conceive, ' 
 His words appear (and, CEdipus, your own,) 
 To have been said in anger; now not such 1 
 
 Our need, but rather to consider this — 
 How best to interpret the God's oracle. 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 King as you are, we must be peers at least 
 
 In argument; I am your equal, there; 
 
 For I am Loxias' servant, and not yours; ' 41° 
 
 So never need be writ of Creon's train. 
 
220 SOPHOCLES 
 
 ' And since you have reproached me with my blindness, 
 I say — you have your sight, and do not see 
 What evils are about you, nor with whom. 
 Nor in what home you are dwelling. Do you know 
 From whom you are? Yea, you are ignorant 
 That to your own you are an enemy, 
 Whether on earth, alive, or under it. 
 
 ' Soon from this land shall drive you, stalking grim. 
 Your mother's and your father's two-edged curse, 
 With eyes then dark, though they look proudly now. 
 What place on earth shall not be harbour, then, 420 
 For your lamenting? What Cithsron-peak 
 Shall not be resonant soon, when you discern 
 What marriage-song was that, which wafted you 
 On a fair voyage, to foul anchorage 
 Under yon roof? and multitudes besides 
 Of ills you know not of, shall level you 
 Down to your self — down to your children ! Go, 
 
 I Trample on Creon, and on this mouth of mine; 
 
 \ But know, there is not one of all mankind 
 
 ^ That shall be bruised more utterly than you. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Must I endure to hear all this from him ? 
 
 Hence, to perdition ! quickly hence ! begone 430 
 
 Back from these walls, and turn you home again. 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 But that you called me, I had not come hither. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 I did not know that you would utter folly; 
 Else I had scarce sent for you, to my house. 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 I speak but as I am ; in your sight foolish ; 
 Yet in your fathers', who begat you, wise. 
 
 CEdipus 
 What fathers ? Stop ! Who was it begat me ? 
 
OEDIPUS TYRANNUS 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 This day shall both beget you and destroy. 
 
 CEdipus 
 How all too enigmatic and obscure 
 Is your discourse! 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 Were you not excellent 440 
 
 At solving riddles? 
 
 CEdipus 
 Ay, reproach me with 
 The very things where you must own me great ! 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 And yet this very fortune was your ruin ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 Well, if I saved this city, I care not. 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 Well, 
 I am going; and you, boy, take me home. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Ay, let him. 
 Your turbulence impedes us, while you stay; 
 When you are gone, you can annoy no more. 
 
 Retires. 
 
 TiRESIAS 
 
 I go, having said that I came to say; 
 
 Not that I fear your frown; for you possess 
 
 No power to slay me; but I say to you — 
 
 The man you have been seeking, threatening him, 
 
 And loud proclaiming him for Laius' murder, 45° 
 
 That man is here; believed a foreigner 
 
 Here sojourning; but shall be recognized 
 
 For Theban born hereafter; yet not pleased 
 
 Jn the event; for blind instead of seeing, , 
 
SOPHOCLES 
 
 And poor for wealthy, to a foreign land, 
 
 A staff to point his footsteps, he shall go. 
 
 Also to his own sons he shall be found 
 
 Related as a brother, though their sire. 
 
 And of the woman from whose womb he came 
 
 Both son and spouse ; one that has raised up seed 
 
 To his own father, and has murdered him. 460 
 
 Now get you in, and ponder what I say; 
 
 And if you can detect me in a lie. 
 
 Then come and say that I am no true seer. 
 
 Exeunt Tiresias and Boy. 
 
 Chorus 
 I. I. 
 
 Who is he, who was said 
 
 By the Delphian soothsaying rock 
 
 To have wrought with hands blood-red 
 
 Nameless unspeakable deeds? 
 
 Time it were that he fled 
 
 Faster than storm-swift steeds ! 
 
 For upon him springs with a shock, 
 
 Armed in thunder and fire, 470 
 
 The Child of Jove, at the head 
 
 Of the Destinies dread, 
 That follow, and will not tire. 
 
 I. 1. 
 
 For a word but now blazed clear 
 
 From Parnassus' snow-covered mound. 
 
 To hunt down the Unknown ! 
 
 He, through the forest drear. 
 
 By rocks, by cavernous ways, 
 
 Stalks, like a bull that strays, 
 
 Heartsore, footsore, alone; 
 
 Flying from Earth's central seat, 480 
 
 Flying the oracular sound 
 
 Which with swift wings' beat 
 For ever circles him round. 
 
 II. 1. 
 
 Of a truth dark thoughts, yea dark and fell. 
 The augur vrise doth arouse in me, 
 Who neither assent, nor yet gainsay; 
 
OEDIPUS TYR ANNUS 223 
 
 And what to affirm, I cannot tell; 
 But I flutter in hope, unapt to see 
 Things of to-morrow, or to-day. 
 
 Why in Polybus' son they should find a foe, 
 
 Or he in the heirs of Labdacus, 490 
 
 I know no cause, or of old, or late. 
 In test whereof I am now to go 
 Against the repute of CEdipus, 
 To avenge a Labdakid's unknown fate. 
 
 II. 2. 
 
 True, Zeus indeed, and Apollo, are wise, 
 And knowers bf what concerns mankind; 
 
 But that word of a seer, a man like me, \\ 500 
 
 Weighs more than mine, for a man to prize, \ 
 Is all unsure. Yea, one man's mind 
 May surpass another's in subtlety; 
 
 But never will I, till I see the rest. 
 
 Assent to those who accuse him now. I 
 
 I saw how the air-borne Maiden came 
 Against him, and proved him wise, by the test, / 
 
 And good to the state; and for this, I vow, '510 
 
 He shall not, ever, be put to shame. 
 
 Enter Creon. 
 
 Creon 
 
 I am come hither, fellow citizens, 
 
 Because I have been told King CEdipus 
 
 Lays grievous accusations to my charge, 
 
 Which I will not endure. For if he deems 
 
 That in these troubles, in report or deed. 
 
 He has at my hands suffered anything 
 
 Tending to harm him, why, I do not care 
 
 To go on living long, bearing the blame. 
 
 The injury that such a word may do 520 
 
 Is no mere trifle, but more vast than any. 
 
 If I am to be called a criminal 
 
 Here in the town, and by my friends, and you. 
 
2 24 SOPHOCLES 
 
 I Senator 
 Nay, the reproach, it may be, rather came 
 Through stress of anger, than advisedly. 
 
 Creon 
 But it was plainly said, by my advice 
 The prophet gave false answers. 
 
 I Senator 
 
 It was said , 
 But how advised I know not. 
 
 Creon 
 
 Was this charge 
 Of a set mind, and with set countenance 
 Imputed against me? 
 
 I Senator 
 
 I do not know. 
 I have no eyes for what my masters do. 530 
 
 But here he comes out of the house, himself. 
 
 Enter OiDiPus. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Fellow, how cam'st thou hither? Dost thou boast 
 
 So great a front of daring, as to come 
 
 Under my roof, the assassin clear of me. 
 
 And manifest pirate of my royalty ? 
 
 Tell me, by heaven, did you detect in me 
 
 The bearing of a craven, or a fool, 
 
 That you laid plans to do it ; or suppose 
 
 I should not recognize your hand in this 
 
 With craft approaching, and defend myself? 
 
 Is it not folly, this attempt of yours, 540 
 
 Without a following, without friends, to hunt 
 
 After a throne, a thing which is achieved 
 
 By aid of followers and much revenue ? 
 
OEDIPUS TYR ANNUS 225 
 
 Creon 
 
 Do me this favour ; hear me say as much 
 As you have said; and then, yourself decide. 
 
 QiDlPUS 
 
 Thou art quick to talk, but I am slow to learn 
 Of thee; for I have found thee contrary 
 And dangerous to me. 
 
 Creon 
 Now, this same thing 
 First hear, how I shall state it. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 This same thing 
 Do not tell me — that thou art not a villain ! 
 
 Creon 
 If you suppose your arrogance weighs aught , 
 Apart from reason, you are much astray. 550 
 
 CEdipus 
 If you suppose you can escape the pain 
 Due for a kinsman's wrong, you are astray! 
 
 Creon 
 You speak with justice; I agree! But tell me. 
 How is it that you say I injured you? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Did you persuade me that I ought to send 
 To fetch that canting soothsayer, or no? 
 
 Creon 
 Why yes, and now, I am of the same mind, still. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 How long is it since Laius — 
 
 Creon 
 
 What? I know not. 
 
 V. A. '5 
 
226 SOPHOCLES 
 
 CEdipus 
 Died — disappeared, murdered by violence? 560 
 
 Creon 
 Long seasons might be numbered, long gone by. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Well, did this seer then practise in the craft ? 
 
 Creon 
 Yes, just as wise, and just as much revered- 
 
 CEdipus 
 And did he at that time say one word of me? 
 
 Creon 
 Well, nowhere in my presence, anyhow. 
 
 CEdipus 
 But did not you hold inquest for the dead ? 
 
 Creon 
 We did, of course ; and got no evidence. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Well then, how came it that this wiseacre 
 Did not say these things then ? 
 
 Creon 
 
 I do not know. 
 In matters where I have no cognizance. 
 I hold my tongue. 
 
 CEdipus 
 This much, at least, you know, 570 
 And if you are wise, will say ! 
 
 Creon 
 
 And what is that? 
 For if I know it, I shall not refuse, 
 
OEDIPUS TYR ANNUS 227 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Why, that unless he had conspired with you 
 He never would have said that Laius' murder 
 Was of my doing ! 
 
 Creon 
 If he says so, you know. 
 Only I claim to learn that first from you. 
 Which you put now to me. 
 
 QEdipus 
 
 Learn anything ! 
 For I shall not be found a murderer. 
 
 Creon 
 Well then ; you have my sister to your wife ? 
 
 CEdipus 
 There's no denying that question. 
 
 Creon 
 
 And with her 
 Rule equal, and in common hold the land? 
 
 CEdipus 
 All she may wish for she obtains of me. 580 
 
 Creon 
 And make I not a third, equal with you? 
 
 CEdipus 
 Ay, there appears your friendship's falsity. 
 
 Creon 
 Not if you reason with yourself, as I. 
 And note this first; whether you can think that any 
 Would rather choose a sovereignty, with fears. 
 Than the same power, with undisturbed repose? 
 Neither am I, by nature, covetous 
 To be a king, rather than play the king, 
 
 15—2 
 
228 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Nor any man who has sagacity. 
 
 Now I have all things, without fear, from you ; 590 
 
 Reigned I myself, I must do much I hated. 
 
 How were a throne, then, .pleasanter for me 
 
 Than painless empire and authority ? 
 
 I am not yet so blind as to desire 
 
 Aught beside honour, joined with interest. 
 
 Now am I hail-fellow-well-met with all; 
 
 Now every man gives me good-morrow; now 
 
 The waiters on your favour fawn on me ; 
 
 For all their prospering depends thereby. 
 
 Then how should I exchange this lot for yours ? 
 
 A mind well balanced cannot turn to crime. 600 
 
 I neither am in love with this design, 
 
 Nor, in a comrade, would I suffer it. 
 
 For proof of which, first, go to Pytho ; ask 
 
 For the oracles, if I declared them truly; 
 
 Next, if you can detect me in the act 
 
 Of any conjuration with the seer. 
 
 Then, by a double vote, not one alone. 
 
 Mine and your own, take me, and take my life; 
 
 But do not, on a dubious argument. 
 
 Charge me beside the facts. For just it is not, 
 
 To hold bad men for good, good men for bad, 610 
 
 Without a cause ; rather I count it equal 
 
 To throw away a friend, a worthy one, 
 
 And one's own life, which most of all one loves. 
 
 Ah well ; in time, you will see these things plainly ; 
 
 For time alone shews a man's honesty, 
 
 But in one day you may assert his guilt. 
 
 1 Senator 
 
 His words sound fair — to one who fears to fall ; 
 For swift in counsel is unsafe, my liege. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 When he who plots against me in the dark 
 Comes swiftly on, I must be swift in turn. 
 
OEDIPUS TYRAI^NUS 229 
 
 If I stay quiet, his ends will have been gained, 620 
 
 And mine all missed. 
 
 Creon 
 
 What is it that you want? 
 To expel me from the country? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Not at all. 
 Your death I wish for, not your banishment. 
 
 Creon 
 Not without shewing, first, what it is to envy ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 You will not heed me, nor submit to me? 
 
 Creon 
 Because I see you mean injuriously. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Not to myself! 
 
 Creon 
 No more you ought to me ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 You are a traitor ! 
 
 Creon 
 What if you are no judge? 
 
 CEdipus 
 I must be ruler. 
 
 Creon 
 Not if you rule badly. 
 
 CEdipus 
 City, my city! 
 
2 30 SOFBOCLES 
 
 Creon 
 
 The city is mine too, 
 And not yours only. 630 
 
 I Senator 
 
 I Good my lords, have done. 
 
 I Here is Jocasta; in good time, I see her 
 Come to you from the palace; with her aid 
 Your present quarrel should be ended well. 
 
 Enter Jocasta. 
 Jocasta 
 Unhappy men, what was it made you raise 
 This senseless broil of words ? Are you not both 
 Ashamed of stirring private grievances, 
 The land being thus afflicted.? Get you in — 
 And, Creon, do you go home ; push not mere nothing 
 On to some terrible calamity! 
 
 Creon 
 Sister, your husband (Edipus thinks fit 
 To treat me villanously; choosing for me 
 Of two bad things, one ; to expatriate me, 640 
 
 Or seize and kill me. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 I admit it, wife; 
 For I have found him out in an offence 
 Against my person, joined with treachery. 
 
 Creon 
 So may I never thrive, but with a curse 
 Perish, if I have done a thing to you 
 Of what you charge against me ! 
 
 Jocasta 
 
 CEdipus ! 
 O in Heaven's name believe it ! Above all 
 Revere this oath in heaven; secondly 
 Myself, and these, who stand before you here. 
 
OEDIPUS TVRANNUS 231 
 
 I Senator 
 
 Hear her, my king! With wisdom and goodwill \ 
 
 I pray you hear ! ' 
 
 CEdipus 
 What would you have me grants 650 
 
 I Senator 
 
 Respect his word; no bauble, heretofore; 
 And by this oath made weighty. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Do you know 
 For what you ask? 
 
 I Senator 
 I do. 
 
 OEDIPUS 
 
 Say what you mean, then ! 
 I Senator 
 You should not, ever cast into disgrace, ! 
 
 The friend, who has abjured it, on a charge 1/ 
 
 Void of clear proof. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Now, understand it well; 
 Seek this, you seek my death or exile ! 
 
 I Senator 
 
 Nay, 
 By the Sun-god, first of all Gods in heaven ! 660 
 
 So may I perish, to the uttermost. 
 Cut off from Heaven, without the help of men, 
 If I have such a thought I But the land's waste 
 Will break my heart with grief— and that these woes, 
 Your strifes, are added to its former woes. 
 
 OEdipus 
 Well, let him go, though I get slain outright. 
 Or thrust by force, dishonoured, from the land; 670 
 
232 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Your voice, not his, makes me compassionate, 
 Pleading for mercy ; wheresoe'er he goes, 
 I can detest him ! 
 
 Creon 
 
 You display your spleen 
 In yielding ; but, when you forget yourself, 
 Are formidable ! Tempers such as yours 
 Most grievous are to their own selves to bear. 
 Not without justice. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Leave me ; get you gone ! 
 
 Creon 
 I go ; you know me not ; these know me honest. 
 
 Exit. 
 
 I Senator 
 Lady, what hinders you from taking him 
 Into the house 1 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 / would know how this happened. 680 
 
 I Senator 
 A blind surmise arose, out of mere babble ; 
 But even what is unjust inflicts a sting. 
 
 Jocasta 
 On part of both ? 
 
 I Senator 
 Yes truly. 
 
 Jocasta 
 
 And what was said? 
 
 I Senator 
 Enough it seems, enough it seems to me. 
 Under the former trouble of the land. 
 To leave this where it lies. 
 
OJEDIPUS TYR ANNUS 233 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Do you perceive 
 How far you are carried — a well-meaning man ! 
 Slurring my anger thus, and blunting it ? 
 
 I Senator 
 
 / said it, O my king, not once alone — 
 
 But be assured, I should have shewn myself 690 
 
 Robbed of my wits, useless for work of wit. 
 
 Renouncing thee ! ivho didst impel the sails 
 
 Of my dear land, baffled mid straits, right onward. 
 
 And if thou could' st, would' st waft her safely now ! 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 For Heaven's sake tell me too, my lord, what was it 
 Caused you so. deep an anger ? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 I will tell you ; 700 
 
 For I respect you, lady, more than these ; 
 'Twas Creon — at plots which he has laid for me. 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 If you will charge the quarrel in plain terms. 
 Why speak ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 He says that I am Laius' slayer. 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 Of his own knowledge, or on hearsay? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Nay, 
 But by citation of a knavish seer; 
 As for himself, he keeps his words blame-free. 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 Now set you free from thought of that you talk of; 
 
 Listen, and learn from me, the soothsayer's art 
 
 Is shared by nothing mortal! Proof of this 710 
 
234 SOPHOCLES 
 
 I'll shew you in one word. To Laius once 
 
 There came an oracle, I do not say 
 
 From Phoebus' self, but from his ministers, 
 
 That so it should befall, that he should die 
 
 By a son's hands, whom he should have by me. 
 
 And him — the story goes — robbers abroad 
 
 Have murdered, at a place where three roads msei-r 
 
 While from our son's birth not three days went by 
 
 Before, with ancles pinned, he cast him out. 
 
 By hands of others, on a pathless moor. 
 
 And so Apollo did not bring about 720 
 
 That he should be his father's murderer ; 
 
 Nor yet that Laius should endure the stroke 
 
 At his son's hands, of which he was afraid. 
 
 This is what came of soothsayers' oracles; 
 
 Whereof take thou no heed. That which we lack. 
 
 If a God seek, himself will soon reveal. 
 
 CEdipus 
 What perturbation and perplexity 
 Take hold upon me, woman, hearing you ! 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 What stress of trouble is on you, that you say so? 
 
 CEdipus 
 I thought I heard you say Laius was slain 
 Where three roads meet ! 730 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 Yes, so the rumour ran. 
 And so runs still. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 And where might be the spot 
 Where this befell? 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 Phocis the land is named ; 
 There are two separate roads converge in one 
 From DauHa and Delphi. 
 
OEDIPUS TYRANNUS 235 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 And what time 
 Has passed since then? 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 It was but just before 
 You were installed as ruler of the land, 
 The tidings reached the city. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 God of Heaven ! 
 What would'st thou do unto me ! 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 CEdipus, 
 What is it on your mind? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Ask me not yet. 740 
 
 But Laius — say, what was he like? what prime 
 Of youth had he attained to ? 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 He was tall ; 
 The first white flowers had blossomed in his hair; 
 His figure was not much unlike your own. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Me miserable! It seems I have but now 
 Proffered myself to a tremendous curse 
 Not knowing ! 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 How say you? I tremble, O my lord, 
 To gaze upon you ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 I am sore afraid 
 
 The prophet was not blind; but you will make 
 
 More certain, if you tell me one thing more. 
 
236 SOPHOCLES 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 Indeed I tremble; but the thing you ask 
 I'll answer, when I know it. 
 
 (Edipus 
 
 Was he going 750 
 
 Poorly attended, or with many spears 
 About him, like a prince ? 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 But five in all; 
 One was a herald ; and one carriage held 
 Laius himself. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 O, it is plain already ! 
 Woman, who was it told this tale to you? 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 A servant, who alone came safe away. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Is he perchance now present, in the house? 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 Why no ; for after he was come from thence. 
 
 And found you governing, and Laius dead, 
 
 He came and touched my hand, and begged of me 760 
 
 To send him to the fields and sheep-meadows. 
 
 So he might be as far as possible 
 
 From eyesight of the townsmen ; and I sent him ; 
 
 For he was worthy, for a slave, to obtain 
 
 Even greater favours. 
 
 OSdipus 
 
 Could we have him back 
 Quickly? 
 
 JoCASTA 
 
 We could. But why this order? 
 
OEDIPUS TYRANNUS 237 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Wife, 
 I fear me I have spoken far too much ; 
 Wherefore I wish to see him. 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 He shall come ! 
 But I am worthy, in my turn, to know 
 What weighs so heavily upon you, Sir? 770 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 And so you shall; seeing that I have gone 
 
 So far in apprehension. For to whom 
 
 Could I impart, passing through such a need. 
 
 More honourable— if that were all — than you? 
 
 — I am the son of Polybus of Corinth, 
 
 And of a Dorian mother, Merope. 
 
 And I was counted most preeminent 
 
 Among the townsmen there; up to the time 
 
 A circumstance befell me, of this fashion — 
 
 Worthy of wonder, though of my concern 
 
 Unworthy. At the board a drunken fellow 
 
 Over his cups called me a changeling; 780 
 
 And I, being indignant — all that day 
 
 Hardly refrained — but on the morrow went 
 
 And taxed my parents with it to their face; 
 
 Who took the scandal grievously, of him 
 
 Who launched the story. Well, with what they said 
 
 I was content; and yet the thing still galled me; 
 
 For it spread far. So without cognizance 
 
 Of sire or mother I set out to go 
 
 To Pytho. Phoebus sent me of my quest 
 
 Bootless away; but other terrible 
 
 And strange _ and lamentable things revealed, 790 
 
 Saying I should wed my mother, and produce 
 
 A race intolerable for men to see. 
 
 And be my natural father's murderer. 
 
 When I heard that, measuring where Corinth stands 
 
238 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Ever thereafter by the stars alone, 
 Where I might never think to see fulfilled 
 The scandals of ill prophecies of me, 
 I fled, an exile. As I journeyed on, 
 I found myself upon the self-same spot 
 Where, you say, this king perished. In your ears. 
 Wife, I will tell the whole. When in my travels 800 
 I was come near this place where three roads meet, 
 There met me a herald, and a man that rode 
 In a colt-carriage, such as you describe, 
 And from the track the leader, by main force, 
 I And the old man himself, would thrust me. I, 
 Bemg enraged, strike him who jostled me — 
 The driver, I mean — and when the old man saw me. 
 Watching as I was passing, from the car 
 He with his goad's fork smote me upon the head. 
 He paid, though ! duly I say not ; but in brief. 
 Smitten by the staff in this right hand of mine, 810 
 Out of the middle of the carriage straight 
 He rolls down headlong ; and I slay them all ! 
 But if there be anything to connect 
 This nameless man with Laius, who is now 
 More miserable than I am? Who on earth 
 Can have been born with more of hate from heaven? 
 Whom never citizen or stranger may 
 Receive into their dwellings, or accost. 
 But must thrust out of doors; and 'tis no other 
 Laid all these curses on myself, than I ! 820 
 
 Yea, with embraces of the arms whereby 
 He perished, I pollute my victim's bed ! 
 Am I not vile? Am I not all unclean? 
 If I must fly, and flying, never can 
 See my own folk, or on my native land 
 Set foot, or else must with my mother wed. 
 And slay my father Polybus, who begat 
 And bred me? Would he not speak truly of me 
 Who judged these things sent by some barbarous Power? 
 Never, you sacred majesties of Heaven, 830 
 
 Never may I behold that day; but pass 
 
OEDIPUS TYRANNUS 239 
 
 Out of men's sight, ere I shall see myself 
 Touched by the stain of such a destiny! 
 
 I Senator 
 My liege, these things aifect us grievously; 
 Still, till you hear his story who was by. 
 Do not lose hope ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 Yea, so much hope is left, 
 Merely to wait for him, the herdsman. 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 Well, 
 Suppose him here, what do you want of him ? 
 
 CEdipus 
 I'll tell you ; if he should be found to say 
 Just what you said, I shall be clear from harm. 840 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 What did you hear me say, that did not tally? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 You were just telling me that he made mention 
 Of "robbers" — "men" — as Laius' murderers. 
 Now if he shall affirm their number still, 
 I did not slay him. One cannot be the same 
 As many. But if he shall speak of one — 
 One individual, clearly then the deed 
 Already will have been brought home to me. 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 But be assured, that was the word, quite plainly! 
 
 And now he cannot blot it out again. 
 
 Not I alone, but the whole city heard it. 850 
 
 Then, even if he shift from his first tale, 
 
 Not so, my lord, will he at all explain 
 
 The death of Laius, as it should have been. 
 
 Whom Loxias declared my son must slay! 
 
 And after all, the poor thing never killed him, 
 
340 SOPHOCLES 
 
 But died itself before! so that henceforth 
 I do not mean to look to left or right 
 For fear of soothsaying ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 You are well advised. 
 Still, send and fetch the labourer ; do not miss it. 860 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 I will send quickly. Now let us go within. 
 I would do nothing that displeases you. 
 
 Exeunt OiDiPUS and Jocasta. 
 
 Chorus 
 I. I. 
 
 Let it be mine to keep 
 The holy purity of word and deed 
 
 Foreguided all by mandates from on high 
 Bom in the ethereal regions of the sky, 
 Their only sire Olympus ; which nor seed 
 Of mortal man brought forth, nor Lethe cold 
 
 Shall ever lay to sleep ; 870 
 
 In them Deity is great, and grows not old. 
 
 Pride is the germ of kings; 
 Pride, when puffed up, vainly, with many things 
 Unseasonable, unfitting, mounts on high, 
 Only to plunge into necessity. 
 Where feet are vain to serve her. But the task 
 Propitious to the city God I ask 880 
 
 Never to take away ! 
 God I will never cease to hold my stay. 
 
 n. I. 
 
 But if any man proceed 
 Insolently in word or deed. 
 Without fear of right, or care 
 For the seats where Virtues are, 
 Him, for his ill-omened pride, 
 Let an evil death betide ! 
 
OEDIPUS TYRANNUS 241 
 
 If honestly his gear he will not gain, 
 
 Nor keep himself from deeds unholy, 890 
 
 Nor from inviolable things abstain, 
 
 Blinded by folly. 
 Where these things are, what mortal from his heart 
 Dart upon dart 
 Can hope to avert of indignation? 
 Yea, and if acts like these are held in estimation, 
 Why dance we here our part? 
 
 II. 2. 
 
 Never to the inviolate hearth 
 
 At the navel of the earth, 
 
 Nor to Abfe's fane, in prayer, 
 
 Nor the Olympian, will I fare, 900 
 
 If it shall not so befall 
 
 Manifestly unto all. 
 But O our king — if thou art named aright — 
 
 Zeus, that art Lord of all things ever, 
 Be this not hid from Thee, nor from Thy might 
 
 Which endeth never. 
 For now already men invalidate 
 
 The dooms of Fate 
 Uttered for Laius, fading slowly; 
 Apollo's name and rites are nowhere now kept holy; 
 
 Worship is out of date. 9'° 
 
 Enter Jocasta, attended. 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 Lords of the land, it came into my heart 
 To approach the temples of the Deities, 
 Taking in hand these garlands, and this incense; 
 For CEdipus lets his mind toss too lightly 
 Upon the eddies of all kinds of grief; 
 Nor will he, like a man of soberness. 
 Measure the new by knowledge of the old. 
 But is at mercy of whoever speaks. 
 If he but speak the language of despair. 
 I can do nothing by exhorting him. 
 Wherefore, Lycean Phoebus, unto thee — ! 
 For thou art very near us — I am come. 
 Bringing these offerings, a petitioner 92° 
 
 '6 
 
242 SOPHOCLES 
 
 That thou afford us fair deliverance; 
 
 Since now we are all frighted, seeing him — 
 
 The vessel's pilot, as 'twere — panic-stricken. 
 
 Enter a Messenger. 
 
 Messenger 
 
 Sirs, might I learn of you, where is the palace 
 Of (Edipus the King? or rather, where 
 He is himself, if you know, tell me. 
 
 I Senator 
 
 Stranger, 
 This is his dwelling, and he is within ; 
 This lady is his children's mother, too. 
 
 Messenger 
 
 A blessing ever be on hers and her. 
 
 Who is, in such a perfect sort, his wife ! 930 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 The like be with you too, as you deserve. 
 Sir, for your compliment. But say what end 
 You come for, and what news you wish to tell. 
 
 Messenger 
 Good to the house, and to your husband, lady. 
 
 Joe AST A 
 
 Of what sort ? and from whom come you ? 
 
 Messenger 
 
 From Corinth. 
 In that which I am now about to say 
 May you find pleasure ! and why not ? And yet 
 Perhaps you may be sorry. 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 But what is it? 
 How can it carry such ambiguous force? 
 
OEDIPUS TYR ANNUS 243 
 
 Messenger 
 
 The dwellers in the land of Isthmia, 
 
 As was there said, intend to appoint him king. 940 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 What! Is old Polybus no longer king? 
 
 Messenger 
 No, truly ; he is Death's subject, in the grave. 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 How say you, father? Is Polybus no more? 
 
 Messenger 
 I stake my life upon it, if I lie ! 
 
 Joe AST A 
 
 Run, girl, and tell your master instantly. 
 
 Exit an attendant. 
 O prophecies of Gods, where are you now ! 1 
 
 CEdipus fled, long since, from this man's presence. 
 Fearing to kill him ; and now he has died i 
 
 A natural death, not by his means at all ! 
 
 Enter (Edipus. 
 CEdipus 
 O my most dear Jocasta, wife of mine, 950^ 
 
 Why did you fetch me hither from the house? 
 
 Jocasta 
 Hear this man speak ! Listen and mark, to what 
 The dark responses of the God are come ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 And who is this? What says he? 
 
 Jocasta 
 
 He's from Corinth, ' 
 To tell us that your father Polybus 
 Lives no more, but is dead ! 
 
 16 — 2 
 
244 SOPHOCLES 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 What say you, sir? 
 Tell your own tale yourself. 
 
 Messenger 
 
 If first of all 
 I must deliver this for certainty, 
 Know well, that he has gone the way of mortals. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Was it by treason, or some chance disease? 960 
 
 Messenger 
 A little shock prostrates an aged frame ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 Sickness, you mean, was my poor father's end? 
 
 Messenger 
 Yes, and old age ; his term of life was full. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Heigh ho! Why, wife! why should a man regard 
 The oracular hearth of Pytho, or the birds 
 Cawing above us, by whose canons I 
 Was to have slain my father? He is dead, 
 And buried out of sight ; and here am I, 
 Laying no finger to the instrument, 
 (Unless, indeed, he pined for want of me. 
 And so, I killed him!) Well, Polybus is gone^ 
 And with him all those oracles of ours 
 Bundled to Hades, for old songs, together 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 Did I not say so all along? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 You did; 
 
 970 
 
 ■ I 
 
 But I was led astray by fear, 
 
OEDIPUS TYRANNUS 245 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 Well, now 
 Let none of these predictions any more 
 Weigh on your mind ! 
 
 GEdipus 
 
 And how can I help dreading 
 My mother's bed ? 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 But why should men be fearful, 
 O'er whom Fortune is mistress, and foreknowledge 
 Of nothing sure ? Best take life easily, 
 As a man may. For that maternal wedding. 
 Don't be afraid ! for many men ere now 980 
 
 Have dreamt as much ; but he that by such dreams 
 Sets nothing, has the easiest life of it. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 All these things would have been well said of you. 
 Were not my mother living still ; but now, 
 She being alive, there is all need of dread ; 
 Though you say well. 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 And yet your father's burial 
 Lets in much daylight ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 I acknowledge, much. 
 My fear's of her who hves. 
 
 Messenger 
 
 But at what woman 
 Are you dismayed ? 
 
 CEdipus 
 At Merope, old man, 
 The wife of Polybus. 99° 
 
246 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Messenger 
 
 And what of her 
 Causes you terror? 
 
 (Edipus 
 A dark oracle, 
 Stranger, from heaven. 
 
 Messenger 
 
 May it be put in words? 
 Or is it wrong another man should know it ? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 No, not at all. Why, Loxias declared 
 
 That I should one day marry ray own mother, 
 
 And with my own hands shed my father's blood. 
 
 Wherefore from Corinth I have kept away 
 
 Far, for long years ; and prospered ; none the less 
 
 It is most sweet to see one's parents' face. 
 
 Messenger 
 
 And in this apprehension you became looo 
 
 An emigrant from Corinth ? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 And, old man. 
 Desiring not to be a parricide. 
 
 Messenger 
 Why should I not deliver you, my liege — 
 Since my intent in coming here was good — 
 Out of this fear? 
 
 GEdipus 
 
 Indeed you would obtain 
 Good reward from me. 
 
 Messenger 
 
 And indeed for this 
 Chiefest I came, that upon your return 
 I might in some way benefit. 
 
OEDIPUS TYRANNUS 247 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 But I 
 Will never go, to meet my parents there 1 
 
 Messenger 
 O son, 'tis plain you know not what you do ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 How so, old man ? in Heaven's name tell me ! 
 
 Messenger 
 
 If 
 On this account you shun the journey home ! loio 
 
 CEdipus 
 Of course I fear lest Phoebus turn out true. 
 
 Messenger 
 Lest through your parents you incur foul stain? 
 
 CEdipus 
 Yes, father, yes ; that is what always scares me. 
 
 Messenger 
 Now do you know you tremble, really, at nothing? 
 
 CEdipus 
 How can that be, if I was born their child? 
 
 Messenger 
 Because Polybus was nought akin to you! 
 
 CEdipus 
 What, did not Polybus beget me? 
 
 Messenger 
 
 No, 
 No more than I did ; just so much as I ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 How, my own sire no more than — nobody? 
 
248 SOPHOCLJES 
 
 Messenger 
 But neither he begat you, nor did I. 1020 
 
 CEdipus 
 Then from what motive did he call me son? 
 
 Messenger 
 Look here ; he took you as a gift from me. 
 
 CEdipus 
 And loved me then, so much, at second hand? 
 
 Messenger 
 Yes, his long childlessness prevailed on him. 
 
 CEdipus 
 And did you find or purchase me, to give him? 
 
 Messenger 
 I found you in Cithaeron's wooded dells. 
 
 CEdipus 
 How came you to be journeying in these parts ? 
 
 Messenger 
 I tended flocks upon the mountains here. 
 
 CEdipus 
 You were a shepherd, and you ranged for hire ! 
 
 Messenger 
 But at the same time your preserver, son ! 1030 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 You found me in distress? What was my trouble? 
 
 Messenger 
 
 Your ancle joints may witness. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 O, why speak you 
 Of that old evil? 
 
OEDIPUS TYR ANNUS 249 
 
 Messenger 
 
 I untied you, when 
 You had the soles of both your feet bored through. 
 
 CEdipus 
 A shameful sort of swaddling bands were mine. 
 
 Messenger 
 Such, that from them you had the name you bear. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Tell me, by heaven ! at sire's or mother's hand — 
 
 Messenger 
 
 I do not know ; the donor knows of this 
 Better than I. 
 
 CEdipus 
 You got me from another? 
 You did not find me ? 
 
 Messenger 
 No, another shepherd 
 Gave you to me. 1040 
 
 CEdipus 
 Who was he? are you able 
 To point him out? 
 
 Messenger 
 
 They said that he was one 
 Of those who followed Laius, whom you know. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Him who was once the monarch of this land? 
 
 Messenger 
 Precisely ! This man was his herdsman. 
 
250 SOPHOCLES 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Now 
 Is this man still alive for me to see ? 
 
 Messenger 
 You must know best, the people of the place. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Is any here among you bystanders, 
 
 Who knows the herdsman whom he designates, 
 
 From seeing him, either in the fields or here? 
 
 Speak ! it is time for this to be cleared up. 1050 
 
 I Senator 
 I think he is no other than that peasant 
 You were desiring to behold before; 
 But she could say better than any one — 
 Jocasta. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Lady, you remember him 
 Whose coming we were wishing for just now ; 
 Does he mean him? 
 
 Jocasta 
 
 Why ask who 'twas he spoke of? 
 Nay, never mind — never remember it — 
 'Twas idly spoken ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Nay, it cannot be 
 That having such a clue I should refuse 
 To solve the mystery of my parentage ! 
 
 Jocasta 
 
 For Heaven's sake, if you care for your own life, 1060 
 Don't seek it ! I am sick, and that's enough ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Courage ! At least, if I be thrice a slave, 
 Born so three-deep, it cannot injure you ! 
 
OEDIPUS TYRANNUS 251 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 But I beseech you, hearken ! Do not do it ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 I will not hearken — not to know the whole. 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 I mean well ; and I tell you for the best ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 What you call best is an old sore of mine. 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 Wretch, what thou art O might'st thou never know ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Will some one go and fetch the herdsman hither? 
 
 She is welcome to her gilded lineage ! 1070 
 
 JOCASTA 
 
 O 
 
 Woe, woe, unhappy ! This is all I have 
 
 To say to thee, and no word more, for ever ! 
 
 Exit. 
 
 I Senator 
 Why has the woman vanished, CEdipus, 
 Driven so wild with grief? I am afraid \ ' 
 
 Out of her silence will break forth some trouble. / 
 
 CEdipus 
 Break out what will, I shall not hesitate 
 To trace my origin, however low ; 
 But she, perhaps, having a woman's pride, 
 Of my unfit extraction is ashamed. 
 
 — I deem myself the child of Fortune ! I to8o 
 
 Shall not be shamed of her, who favours me; 
 Seeing I have her for mother; and the months, 
 My kinsmen, fashioned me — obscure and great. 
 Such being my birth, I cannot now turn out 
 Different — that I should leave my race unknown I 
 
 \, 'J 
 
2S2 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Chorus 
 
 If I am a true seer, 
 
 My mind from eiTor clear, 
 Tomorrow's moon shall not pass over us, 
 
 Ere, O Cithseron, we 
 
 Shall magnify in thee 1090 
 
 The land, the lap, the womb of CEdipus; 
 And we shall hymn thy praises, for good things 
 Of thy bestowing, done unto our kings. 
 Yea, Phoebus, if thou wilt, amen, so might it be ! 
 
 Who bare thee, who, O boy? 
 
 Was it some wood-nymph coy 
 Sought to by Pan — one of the immortal maids — 
 
 Over the mountains wild ? 
 
 Or art thou Loxias' child? 
 For dear to him are all the greenwood glades. 
 Was it Cyllene's lord acquired a son. 
 Or Bacchus, dweller on the heights, from one 
 Of those he liefest loves, Oreads of Helicon? 
 
 Enter Attendants with an Old Man, a Shepherd. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 If I may guess, who never met with him, 
 
 I think I see that herdsman, Senators, 
 
 We have long been seeking; for his ripe old age 
 
 Harmoniously accords with this man's measure; 
 
 Besides, I recognize the men who bring him 
 
 As of my household ; but in certainty 
 
 You can perhaps exceed me, who beheld 
 
 The herdsman formerly. 
 
 I Senator 
 
 Why, to be sure, 
 I recognize him; for he was a man 
 Trusty as any Laius ever had 
 About his pastures. 
 
OEDIPUS TYR ANNUS 253 
 
 GEdipus 
 
 You I ask the first, 
 The Corinthian stranger; do you speak of him? 11 20 
 
 Messenger 
 Yes, him you see. 
 
 OEdipus 
 Sirrah, old man, look here; 
 Answer my questions. Were you Laius' man? 
 
 Old Man 
 Truly his thrall ; not bought, but bred at home. 
 
 QiDIPUS 
 
 Minding what work, or in what character? 
 
 Old Man 
 Most of my time I went after the flocks. 
 
 (Edipus 
 In what directions, chiefly, were your folds? 
 
 Old Man 
 There was Cithaeron ; and a bit near by. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Do you know this man, then ? Did you see him there ? 
 
 Old Man 
 Him? After what? What man do you mean? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 This fellow 
 Here present; did you ever meet with him? 11 30 
 
 Old Man 
 Not so to say off-hand, from memory. 
 
 Messenger 
 And that's no wonder, sir; but beyond dolibt 
 I will reinind him, though he has forgotten, 
 
254 SOPHOCLES 
 
 I am quite sure he knows, once on a time, 
 
 When in the bit about Cithseron there — 
 
 He with two flocks together, and I with one — 
 
 I was his neighbour for three whole half years 
 
 From spring-tide onward to the Bear-ward's day; 
 
 And with the winter to my folds I drove, 
 
 And he to Laius' stalls. Do I speak fact 
 
 In any of these things, or do I not? 1140 
 
 Old Man 
 You speak the truth ; but it was long ago. 
 
 Messenger 
 Come, say now, don't you mind that you then gave me 
 A baby boy to bring up for my own? 
 
 Old Man 
 What do you mean? Why do you ask it me? 
 
 Messenger 
 
 This is the man, good fellow; who was then 
 A youngling ! 
 
 Old Man 
 Out upon you ! Hold your peace ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Nay, old man, do not chide him; for your words 
 Deserve a chiding rather than his own ! 
 
 Old Man 
 O best of masters, what is my offence? 
 
 CEdipus 
 Not telling of that boy he asks about. ngo 
 
 Old Man 
 He says he knows not what 1 He is all astray ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 You will not speak of grace— you shall perforce ! 
 
OEDIPUS TYR ANNUS 255 
 
 Old Man 
 Do not for God's sake harm me, an old man ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 Quick, some one, twist his hands behind him ! 
 
 Old Man 
 
 Wretch ! 
 What have I done? What do you want to know? 
 
 CEdipus 
 Did you give him that boy he asks about? 
 
 Old Man 
 I gave it him. Would I had died that day! 
 
 CEdipus 
 Tell the whole truth, or you will come to it! 
 
 Old Man 
 I am undone far more, though, if I speak ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 The man is trifling with us, I believe. 1160 
 
 Old Man 
 No, no; I said I gave it, long ago ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 Where did you get it? At home, or from some other? 
 
 Old Man 
 It was not mine; another gave it me. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Which of these citizens ? and from what roof? 
 
 Old Man 
 Don't, master, for God's sake, don't ask me more! 
 
256 SOPHOCLES 
 
 CEdipus 
 You are a dead man, if I speak again ! 
 
 Old Man 
 Then — 'twas a child — of Laius' household. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 What, 
 Slave-born ? or one of his own family? 
 
 Old Man 
 O, I am at the horror, now, to speak ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 And I to hear. But I must hear — no less. 11 70 
 
 Old Man 
 Truly it was called his son; but she within, 
 Your lady, could best tell you how it was. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Why, did she give it you ? 
 
 Old Man 
 
 My lord, even so. 
 
 CEdipus 
 For what? 
 
 Old Man 
 For me to make away with it. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Herself the mother ? miserable ! 
 
 Old Man 
 
 In dread 
 Of evil prophecies — 
 
 CEdipus 
 What prophecies ? 
 
OEDIPUS TYRANNUS 257 
 
 Old Man 
 That he should kill his parents, rumour went. 
 
 CEdipus 
 How came you then to give it to this old man? 
 
 Old Man 
 For pity, O my master ! thinking he 
 Would carry it away to other soil, 
 From whence he came; but he to the worst of ends 
 Saved it! for if thou art the man he says, 11 80 
 
 Sure thou wast born destined to misery ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Woe ! woe ! It is all plain, indeed ! O Light, 
 This be the last time I shall gaze on thee, 
 Who am revealed to have been born of those 
 Of whom I ought not — to have wedded whom 
 I ought not — and slain whom I might not slay! 
 
 Exit. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 I. y. 
 
 generations of mankind ! 
 
 How do I find 
 
 Your lives nought worth at all ! 
 For who is he — what state 
 
 Is there, more fortunate 119° 
 
 Than only to seem great, 
 
 And then, to fall? 
 
 1 having thee for pattern, and thy lot — 
 Thine, O poor CEdipus — I envy not 
 
 Aught in mortahty; 
 For this is he 
 
 I. L. 
 
 Who, shooting far beyond the rest, 
 Won wealth all-blest, 
 
 Slaying, Zeus, thy monster-maid, 
 Crook-taloned, boding; and tioo 
 
 Who did arise and stand 
 Betwixt death and our land, 
 
 A tower of aid; 
 
 Y. A. 17 
 
258 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Yea for this cause thou hast been named our king, 
 And honoured in the highest, governing 
 The city of Thebse great 
 In royal state. 
 
 II. I. 
 
 And now, who can be named more pitiable? 
 
 Who with sad woes, who with mischances rude 
 Stands closer yoked by life's vicissitude? 
 O honoured head of CEdipus, for whom 
 In the same large embraces there was room 
 To come — child, to the birth — 
 Sire, to the nuptial bower, 
 How could the furrows of thy parent earth — 
 
 How could they brook thee, O thou miserable, 
 In silence, to this hour? 
 
 II. 1. 
 
 Time found thee out — Time who sees everything — 
 Unwittingly guilty; and arraigns thee now 
 Consort ill-sorted, unto whom are bred 
 Sons of thy getting, in thirie own birth-bed. 
 
 O scion of Laius' race. 
 Would I had never never seen thy face ! 
 For I lament, even as from lips that sing 
 Pouring a dirge; yet verily it was thou 
 Gav'st me to rise 
 And breathe again, and close my watching eyes. 
 
 Enter a Second Messenger. 
 
 2 Messenger 
 
 O you most honoured ever of this land, 
 
 What deeds have you to hear, what sights to see, 
 
 What sorrow to endure, if you still care 
 
 Loyally for the house of Labdacus ! 
 
 For I suppose Ister or Phasis' wave 
 
 Never could purge this dwelling from the ills 
 
 It covers — or shall instantly reveal, 
 
 Invited, not inflicted; of all wounds, 1230 
 
 Those that seem wilful are the worst to bear. 
 
OEDIPUS TYRANNUS 259 
 
 I Senator 
 There was no lack, in what we knew before, 
 Of lamentable; what have you more to say? 
 
 2 Messenger 
 The speediest of all tales to hear and tell; 
 The illustrious Jocasta is no more. 
 
 I Senator 
 Unhappy woman ! From what cause ? 
 
 2 Messenger 
 
 Self-slain. 
 Of what befell the saddest part is spared; 
 For you were not a witness. None the less 
 So far as I can tell it you shall hear 
 Her miserable story. When she passed 1240 
 
 So frantically inside the vestibule, 
 She went straight onward to the bed-chamber, 
 With both her hands tearing her hair; the doors 
 She dashed to as she entered, crying out 
 On Laius, long since dead, calling to mind 
 His fore-begotten offspring, by whose hands 
 He, she said, died, and left to his own seed 
 Its mother's most unnatural bearing-bed. 
 Nor did she not bewail that nuptial-couch 
 Where she brought forth, unhappy, brood on brood. 
 Spouse to her spouse, and children to her child. 1250 
 And then — I know no further how she perished; 
 For OEdipus brake in, crying aloud ; 
 For whom it was impossible to watch 
 The ending of her misery; but on him 
 We gazed, as he went raging all about, 
 Beseeching us to furnish him a sword 
 And say where he could find his wife — no wife, 
 Rather the mother-soil both of himself 
 And children; and, as he raved thus, some Power 
 Shews him — at least, none of us present did. 
 Then, shouting loud, as if following some guide, 1260 
 
 17 — 2 
 
26o SOPHOCLES 
 
 He sprang upon the doors, and burst the bars 
 Out of their sockets, and alights within. 
 There we beheld his wife hanging, entwined 
 In a twined noose. He seeing her, "with a groan 
 Looses the halter; then, when on the ground 
 Lay the poor wretch, followed a terrible scene. 
 For snatching from her dress the golden pins 
 , Wherewith she was adorned, he lifted them, 
 ,' And smote the nerves of his own eyeballs, saying 1270 
 I Something like this — that they should see no more 
 / Evils like those he had endured or wrought; 
 Darkling, thereafter, let them gaze on forms 
 He might not see, and fail to recognize 
 Faces he had desired ! Chanting this burden. 
 Not once, but many times, he raised his hand 
 And stabbed his eyes; so that from both of them 
 The blood ran down his face, not drop by drop. 
 But all at once, in a dark shower of gore. 
 — These are the ills that from a two-fold fount, 1280 
 Not on one head, but upon wife and spouse. 
 Mingled together, have burst forth at last. 
 Their former pristine happiness indeed 
 Was happiness before ; but in this hour 
 Shame — lamentation — Ate— death — of all 
 That has a name of evil, nought's away! 
 
 I Senator 
 
 And does he stand in any respite now 
 Of misery, poor soul? 
 
 2 Messenger 
 
 He calls aloud 
 For some one to undo the bolts, and shew 
 To all the Cadmeans him, his father's slayer — 
 His mother's — uttering words unhallowed — words 
 I may not speak; that he will cast himself 1290 
 
 Forth of the land, abide no more, to bring 
 The curse of his own cursing on the house, 
 
OEDIPUS TYRANNUS 261 
 
 But he lacks force, and guidance; for his sickness 
 Is more than man can bear. See for yourself; 
 For these gates open, and you will straight behold 
 A sight — such as even he that loathes must pity! 
 
 Enter CEdipus blind. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 O suffering, despiteful 
 
 For mankind to see! 
 Past all things frightful 
 
 E'er known to me ! 
 What frenzy, O thou unhappy, is this that is come on thee? 1300 
 
 By what power aided. 
 
 Darting from far, 
 Hath ruin invaded 
 
 The course of thy star 
 With onslaughts more keen than the keenest, more fierce than the 
 fiercest that are? 
 
 Much would I learn of thee; 
 
 Would ask thee much; 
 Much would discern of thee, 
 Wert thou not such 
 As the sight is a terror to witness, the presence a horror to touch. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Alas the day ! 
 
 Where must I go? 
 The words I say 131° 
 
 Flit to and fro — 
 Whither ? O Power divine, how didst thou leap forth, to my woe ! 
 
 I Senator 
 To ills, intolerable to hear or see. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 O horrors that cover me ! 
 
 Shadows of dread ! 
 Cloud that comes over me 
 Of ills unsaid ! 
 Storm not to be mastered or weathered, that beats, woe is me! on 
 my head ! 
 
262 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Woe's me once more! How crowd upon my heart 
 Stings of these wounds, and memories of woe! 
 
 I Senator 
 
 No marvel if thou bear a double smart 
 
 And writhe, so stricken, with a two-fold throe ! 1320 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Still art thou near me — 
 
 Still dost tend : 
 Still, to cheer me — 
 
 Blind — to the end 
 Thou abidest with me, and carest for me, O friend, my friend ! 
 
 For strange thou art not; but full well I know 
 That voice of thine, all darkling though I be. 
 
 I Senator 
 Rash man, how could'st thou bear to outrage so 
 
 Thine eyes ? What Power was it, that wrought on thee ? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Apollo, Apollo fulfils, 
 
 O friends, my measure of ills — 1350 
 
 Fills my measure of woe; 
 Author was none, but I, 
 None other, of the blow; 
 For why was I to see. 
 When to descry 
 No sight on earth could have a charm for me? 
 
 I Senator 
 It was even as thou sayest. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 What was there left for sight? 
 
 What, that could give delight ? 
 Or whose address, 
 O friends, could I still hear with happiness? 
 
 Lead me to exile straight, ,,,q 
 
 Lead me, O my friends, the great — 
 The most accurst of murderers, and even 
 
 Most hateful unto Heaven. 
 
OEDIPUS TYRANNUS 263 
 
 I Senator 
 Wretch for thy cunning, and for thy fate as well, 
 I would that I had never known thy name ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 May he perish, whoe'er 'twas drew me 
 Out of the cruel gyve 
 That bound my feet, on the lea ! 
 He who saved me alive, 1350 
 
 Who rescued me from fate. 
 Shewing no kindness to me ! 
 Sorrow so great, 
 Had I died then, had spared both mine and me. 
 
 I Senator 
 Fain were I too it had been so. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Not then had I become 
 
 My father's murderer, 
 Nor wedded her I have my being from: 
 
 Whom now no God will bless, 1360 
 
 Child of incestuousness 
 In her that bare me, being the spouse of her; 
 Yea if aught ill worse than all ill be there. 
 
 That CEdipus must bear. 
 
 I Senator 
 I know not how to say thou hast done well ; 
 For it were better for thee now to die. 
 Than to hve on in blindness. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Tell me not — 
 Give me no counsel now, that what is done 1370 
 
 Has not been done thus best. I do not know 
 The eyes wherewith I could have looked upon 
 My father — coming to the under-world, 
 Or my poor mother, when against them both 
 I have sinned sins, worse than a halter's meed. 
 Or, think you, was the sight of children, born 
 As they were born, desirable for me 
 To contemplate ? Never for eyes of mine ! 
 
264 SOPHOCLMS 
 
 No, nor the city, nor the citadel, 
 
 Nor consecrated shrines of deities, 
 
 From which, to my most utter misery, 
 
 I, of all other men in Thebes the man 1380 
 
 Most bravely nurtured, cut myself away. 
 
 And of my own mouth dictated to all 
 
 To thrust out me, the impious — me, declared 
 
 Abominable of Heaven, and Laius' son. 
 
 Was I, who in myself made evident 
 
 So dark a stain, with unaverted eyes 
 
 To look on these ? That least of all ! Nay rather. 
 
 If there were any way to choke the fount 
 
 Of hearing, through my ears, I would have tried 
 
 To seal up all this miserable frame, 
 
 And live blind, deaf to all things; sweet it were 
 
 To dwell in fancy, out of reach of pain. 1390 
 
 — Cithaeron ! wherefore didst thou harbour me ? 
 
 Why not at once have slain me? Never then 
 
 Had I displayed before the face of men 
 
 Who and from whom I am ! O Polybus, 
 
 And Corinth, and the old paternal roof 
 
 I once called mine, with what thin film of honour. 
 
 Corruption over-skinned, you fostered me, 
 
 Found ill myself, and from ill parents, now ! 
 
 you, the three roads, and the lonely brake, 
 The copse, and pass at the divided way. 
 
 Which at my hands drank blood that was my own — 1400 
 My father's — do you keep in memory 
 What in your sight I did, and how again 
 
 1 wrought, when I came hither? Wedlock, wedlock, 
 You gave me being, you raised up seed again 
 
 To the same lineage, and exhibited 
 
 In one incestuous flesh son — brother — sire. 
 
 Bride, wife and mother; and all ghastliest things 
 
 Known among men! But O, ill done, ill worded! 
 
 In Heaven's name hide me with all speed away, 1410 
 
 Or slay me, or send adrift upon some sea 
 
 Where you may look on me no longer! Come, 
 
Oedipus tvrannus 265 
 
 Touch, if you will, a miserable man ; 
 Pray you, fear nothing; for my misery 
 No mortal but myself can underbear. 
 
 I Senator 
 
 Creon is at hand ; he is the man you need, 
 Who must decide and do ; being, after you. 
 The sole protector left us, for the land. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Ah Heaven, what language shall I hold to him ? 
 What rightful credit will appear in me? 
 For I have been found wholly in the wrong 1420 
 
 In all that passed between us heretofore ! I 
 
 Enter Creon. 
 Creon 
 Not as a mocker come I, OJdipus, 
 Nor to frame taunts at any ill that's past. 
 But you — even if you reverence no more 
 Any of mankind — at least so far revere 
 The royal Sun-god's all-sustaining fire, 
 Not to parade, thus flagrant, such a sore 
 As neither earth nor day can tolerate. 
 Nor dew from Heaven ! Take him in instantly ! 
 That kindred only should behold and hear 1430 
 
 The griefs of kin, fits best with decency. 
 
 CEdipus 
 In Heaven's name, seeing that you transported me 
 Beyond all hope, coming, the first of men, 
 To me the last of men, grant me one boon ! 
 'Tis for your good, not for my own, I say it. 
 
 Creon 
 
 What is it that you crave so eagerly? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Out of this country cast me with all speed. 
 Where I may pass without accost of men. 
 
266 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Creon 
 
 So had I done, be sure, had I not wished 
 To learn our duty, first, at the God's mouth. 
 
 GEdipus 
 
 Surely his oracle was all made plain, 144° 
 
 Me, the profane, the parricide, to slay ! 
 
 Creon 
 
 Those were the words; but in our present need 
 'Tis better to enquire what we must do. 
 
 (Edipus 
 Will ye seek answer for a wretch like me? 
 
 Creon 
 Even you might trust what the God answers, now. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Ay, and I charge thee, and will beg of thee. 
 Order such burial as thou wilt, thyself, 
 For her who lies within ; seeing it is meet 
 Thou do so, for thine own. But never more 
 Be this my native town burdened with me 
 For living inmate; rather suffer me 1450 
 
 To haunt the mountains — where my mountain is, 
 Cithaeron, which my mother and my sire. 
 Living, appointed for my sepulchre. 
 That as they meant, my slayers, I may expire. 
 Howbeit this much I know, neither disease 
 Nor aught beside can kill me ; never else 
 Had I been rescued from the brink of death. 
 But for some dire calamity. Ah well, 
 Let our own fate wag onward as it may; 
 And for my sons, Creon, take thou no care 
 Upon thee; they are men, so that they never 1460 
 
 Can lack the means to Hve, where'er they be; 
 But my two girls, wretched and pitiable. 
 For whose repast was never board of mine 
 
OEDIPUS TYRANNUS 267 
 
 Ordered apart, without me, but in all 
 
 That I partook they always shared with me, 
 
 Take care of them; and let me, above all else. 
 
 Touch them with hands, and weep away my troubles ! 
 
 Pardon, my lord ; pardon, illustrious sir ; 
 
 If but my hands could feel them, I might seem 
 
 To have them still, as when I still could see. 1470 
 
 Antigone and Ismene are brought in. 
 — What do I say? In Heaven's name, do I not 
 Hear my two darlings, shedding tears, at hand? 
 And can it be that Creon, pitying me. 
 Sends me my dearest, my two daughters, hither? 
 Is it so indeed ? 
 
 Creon 
 Yes, it is I who have vouchsafed this boon. 
 Knowing of old time the joy you have of them. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Why then, good luck go with thee, and Providence 
 
 Be guardian to thee, better than to me, 
 
 In payment for their coming ! — Children dear, 1480 
 
 Where are you? Come, come hither to my arms — 
 
 To these brotherly arms — procurers that 
 
 The eyes — that were your sire's — once bright — should see 
 
 Thus ! who am shewn, O children, to have been 
 
 Author of you — unseeing — unknowing — in 
 
 Her bed, whence I derived my being ! You 
 
 I weep for ; for I cannot gaze on you ; 
 
 Knowing what is left of bitter in the life 
 
 Which at men's hands you needs must henceforth live. 
 
 For to what gatherings of the citizens 
 
 Will you resort, or to what festivals, 1490 
 
 Whence you will not, in place of holiday. 
 
 Come home in tears? Or when you shall have grown 
 
 To years of marriage, who — ah, who will be 
 
 The man to abide the hazard of disgrace 
 
 Such as must be the bane, both of my sons, 
 
2 68 SOPHOCLES 
 
 And you as well? For what reproach is lacking? 
 
 Your father slew his father; eared the soil 
 
 Whence his own seedling sprouted; and gat you 
 
 From the same womb, from which himself forth-came ! 
 
 So will they shame you; who will wed you then? 1500 
 
 No one, my children; but you needs must wither, 
 
 Barren — unwed. But thou, Menoeceus' son, 
 
 Since thou art all the father these have left, 
 
 For we, the two that were their parents, now 
 
 Are both undone, do not thou suifer them 
 
 To wander, vagabond and husband-less, 
 
 Being of thy kin; nor let them fall so low 
 
 As are my fortunes; but have pity on them. 
 
 Seeing them so tender, and so desolate 
 
 Of all friends, but for thee. Give me thy hand, 15 10 
 
 Good sir, and promise this. — To you, my girls. 
 
 If you were old enough to understand, 
 
 I should have much to say; but as it is. 
 
 This be your prayer; in some permitted place 
 
 That you may breathe; and have your lot in life 
 
 Happier than his, who did engender you. 
 
 Creon 
 Get thee in ; thou hast bewailed thee enough, in reason. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Though it be bitter, I must do it. 
 
 Creon 
 
 All's good, in good season. 
 CEdipus 
 Do you know how to make me? 
 
 Creon 
 
 Say on, and I shall know. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Banish me from this country. 
 
OEDIPUS TYRANNUS 269 
 
 Creon 
 
 That must the God bestow. 
 
 CEdipus 
 But to Gods, above all men, I am a mark for hate. 
 
 Creon 
 And for that same reason you will obtain it straight. 
 
 GlDIPUS 
 
 Say you so ? 1520 
 
 Creon 
 Yes truly, and I mean what I say. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Lead me hence, then, quickly. 
 
 Creon 
 
 Go ; but let the children stay. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Do not take them from me ! 
 
 Creon 
 Think not to have all at thy pleasure ; 
 For what thou didst attain to far outwent thy measure. 
 
 Creon, the Children, etc. retire. CEdipus is led in. 
 Chorus 
 
 All you dwellers in our native Thebes, behold and see 
 Into what a stormy surge of dire calamity 
 He who solved the famous riddle, and was first of men, 
 This man, CEdipus, has fallen ! whom what citizen 
 Did not envy — did not at his fortune stand agaze ! 
 Hence considering and regarding that, our last of days, 
 We should never reckon man, that is mortal, happy, till 
 He have passed the bourn of life, suffering no grievous ill. 
 
 Exeunt omnes. 
 
NOTES 
 
 3. The olive-branches, carried in the hand, are said to have 
 been twined with wool, much as our children weave ribbons into their 
 May-day garlands. The effect, however, must have been, as if the 
 whole crowd had been crowned with a common garland, i^effTeiifuhoi. 
 I doubt if Sophocles was thinking of the wool. 
 
 II. I follow Professor Kennedy's punctuation and explanation. 
 It seems difficult to get the meaning of "desire" out of (rrip^avTes. 
 In the choric passage, O. C. 1094, ar^pya seems equivalent to "I 
 address with the prayer ffrip^ov — be content — i.e. condescend — to aid"; 
 compare 1. 518. But here, in dialogue, such a turn of language is 
 surely inadmissible. 
 
 18. I do not follow here Wunder's emendation iir' -rjBiav, adopted 
 by Dindorf. 
 
 44. In saying "the correspondences of their counsels actually 
 exist," I suppose the poet to say no more than this: "the things that 
 actually exist correspond with their counsels. " This agrees with Pro- 
 fessor Kennedy's interpretation of avpupopds and i^daas, but not with 
 his explanation of the line, as conveying a recommendation to QLdipus 
 to consult some other person of experience. The "comparisons" 
 seem to me to be, not those of counsel with counsel, but of counsels 
 with the facts. I adhere to my original rendering with some diffi- 
 dence, in view of the distinguished authorities who have taken other 
 views of this passage. 
 
 67. Compare the note in Shelley's Essays on this passage. 
 
 181. I venture to take vriK^a in its usual meaning. Sophocles is 
 going to call the dead bodies 6avaTa<popa — death-breeding ; surely it is 
 not unnatural that he should prepare us for the horror, by a suitable 
 epithet, "pitiless!" 
 
 206. I adopt the reading in Dind. Foet. Sc. Gr. -rrpoiTTaxOivTa. 
 But the translation would hardly be affected, were I to follow that in 
 his small edition, irpoffTaBivTa. 
 
 210. I find it hard to understand why this should be translated 
 " I could not have tracked it far." The verb is in the imperfect tense. 
 
OEDIPUS TYR ANNUS 271 
 
 " If I had a clue," CEdipus argues, " I myself would track it out; not 
 having any clue, I should fail ; that is why I come to you." I have 
 read aijros, not afiro, as Dindorf. 
 
 Ill- The participle iire^eXtiv being in the aorist, I take it to indi- 
 cate the act done by the culprit, which occasions his fear. I suppose 
 xel to mean " even if," not " and if"; and I have transposed 1. 226, so 
 as to make the connexion clearer. Compare line 233 ; the expressions 
 " withdrawing covertly the accusation," and "pushing the word away," 
 seem to present the same metaphor in two forms. 
 
 294. I read Tpi<pei, with Dindorf. 
 
 325. Either at the beginning, or else at the end, of the speech, 
 there must be an omission of the words "I am silent," or something to 
 that effect. I suppose it omitted at the end, with Professor Kennedy. 
 
 375. It seems unnecessary to consider as a corrupt reading the 
 striking expression /niSs Trpbs vvktos, and to substitute fialas. The word 
 Tp4<j>€i., as elsewhere in Sophocles, I suppose here to have no emphatic 
 meaning of nurture, but merely that represented by the English "you 
 are subjected to" or "the denizen of" continuous night. 
 
 438. I have here a debt to acknowledge to Professor Kennedy. 
 Also to Professor Jebb in I. 250, and to Sir F. Doyle in 1. 535. Doyle's 
 translation, long out of print, is worthy of more consideration than 
 it has ever received. 
 
 445. It seems clear that CEdipus retires at the conclusion of his 
 own speech; Tiresias, from his blindness, remaining unaware of the 
 fact. It is impossible to suppose that CEdipus is intended to hear what 
 follows, which would leave him but little to discover, as the play pro- 
 ceeds. An intelligent man could not but set this prophecy beside that 
 of the oracle, detailed in 1. 791, and draw the inevitable conclusion. 
 
 506. I restore the words omitted by Dindorf. The strophe seems 
 defective. 
 
 523. Read ToUvoi S' icpAvBri. In my first issue I omitted to take 
 account of the triple repetition of the word yviiiio). This has now been 
 corrected. 
 
 575. I follow the MSS. reading, ravB' Hirep, "precisely these 
 things which," and construe fiaBetv "to have learnt" or "to know." 
 Creon argues "You know best; but I claim to be in the position of 
 the man to whom all this is new— of the learner— instead of you." 
 CEdipus replies, carelessly or petulantly, "Learn anything you like!" 
 answering the word rather than the sense, but using the present tense, 
 not the aorist; whereupon Creon rejoins " So I will"; and proceeds to 
 put questions in his turn. This shift in the argument has suggested to 
 commentators an attempt to construe Creon's remonstrance as if it 
 were the setting up of a claim to put the questions, which he after- 
 
2 72 SOPHOCLES 
 
 wards proceeds to put. I do not think this is possible. It requires us 
 first to change raCfl' oTrep into raCff' airep, "the same things," and to 
 construe this adverbially, "just as," or "in the same way as," which 
 is rather strained ; and what is worse, it necessitates the taking of 
 liaBeiv as equivalent to ij.avBiweiii — "I claim to get information" 
 instead of "I claim to be informed"; which is surely impossible. 
 Here also I write with diffidence, in view of the weight of authority 
 against me; but, having formerly -guessed at ravB', as the true reading, 
 without knowing it was that of the MSS., I have an interest in standing 
 by it, as against Brunck's alteration. 
 
 597. Dindorfs ahiXKovai. is too tempting for a translator to resist. 
 But it cannot be said to be necessary. 
 
 638. My rendering here differs from that usually followed. I 
 doubt if "your trivial grief" is a legitimate translation of rb /iriSh 
 a\yos, or if t4 fiTiSiv dXyos be Greek in any sense. 
 
 808. I cannot accept Dindorfs alteration of 6xov into Sxous, or his 
 proposal to omit 11. 815, 827. 
 
 846. Liddell and Scott's Lexicon [s. v. novbiavoi) explains oWfuvos 
 and )iovii^avo% "girt up alone, i.e. journeying alone"; and refers to 
 " Suid., Hesych., etc." and to Ruhnken, Ep. Cr. This has been 
 generally followed in England; but a reference to Suidas, Hesychius and 
 the Scholiast, and to Ruhnken on Hei-mesian. Eleg. 1. 7, shews that the 
 word covers no reference whatever to a traveller's habit of girding up 
 his loins, and means simply — what Waller preferred to the rest of the 
 world — " the continent of a single girdle." The later meaning " a 
 robber " was probably a reflection from this passage. 
 
 852. Bothe's emendation, followed by Dindorf, aov for toV, I 
 reject. It makes nonsense of a forcible passage. 
 
 880. The omission of the article with the Greek word for deity 
 does not necessarily imply a sentiment of monotheism. But in the 
 rendering of this chorus it seems admissible to accentuate somewhat 
 the degree to which the poet has forgotten Loxias, and is contem- 
 plating the region of supernal deity, or, as he calls it, "Olympus." 
 
 920. I see no ground for Wunder's emendation, adopted by Din- 
 dorf. The sense requires " a votive offering," which the word in the 
 MSS. will bear : and the idea of "first fruits" is inappropriate. 
 
 1055. The reading rdi/S' here followed appears necessary; other- 
 wise CEdipus is made to assume the identity as to which he is en- 
 quiring. 
 
 1056. Another unnecessary alteration here made by Dindorf is 
 rejected by the best editors, 
 
OEDIPUS TYRANNUS 273 
 
 1078. I agree with Professor Jebb's rendering of this line, so 
 important in estimating the two principal characters of the drama. 
 ?Iere, and in 11. 749, 1461, I have further obligations to acknowledge 
 to his prose version. 
 
 1089. Dindorfs reading, oi'« In Thv iTifoii, appears improbable. 
 The oath " by Olympus ! " I omit, metri gratid. 
 
 nor. It is surely necessary to get rid of the grandfatherly rela- 
 tion with Loxias, which the MSS. suggest as an alternative for the 
 paternity of other gods. Of two ingenious emendations, Arndt's and 
 Jebb's, no one with a feeling for poetry can hesitate to prefer that of 
 our countryman ; and I regret that the difficulty attending any corre- 
 sponding correction of the strophe has driven him, in a second edition, 
 to abandon it. 
 
 II 30. I follow the reading adopted by Professor Campbell. 
 
 1 144. It appears better Greek, and is certainly more effective dia- 
 logue, to make two questions, not one, out of this line. 
 
 1205. Dindorf follows Hermann in changing the order of words, 
 for metrical reasons ; but the sense is not affected thereby. 
 
 1220. I have adopted Professor Jebb's justly celebrated emenda- 
 tion. 
 
 1223. Strange to say commentators are by no means agreed as to 
 the meaning of the last three words of this ode " I closed my eyes." 
 Do the Chorus say they closed them in sleep, having CEdipus for 
 guardian? Or that they closed them in death, as it were, through 
 despair at his misfortune ? In the latter case we must suppose a meta- 
 phor within a metaphor — "death" substituted for extreme trouble, and 
 "sleep" for death. But the word KareKoifiTjaa denotes restful sleep, 
 not, I think, the sleep which can be put metaphorically for death, 
 where death is itself used metaphorically for the extremity of trouble. 
 As it appears to me, moreover, the rendering followed gives a simple, 
 pathetic and congruous ending to the ode : whereas the other is abrupt, 
 prosaic, and subversive of lyrical unity. 
 
 1231. I am in this place somewhat indebted to Professor Camp- 
 bell's version. 
 
 1249. ^^ Homeric form occurring in the original sent me to 
 Milton for a turn of phrase which should preserve the epic colouring. 
 In the speeches of messengers these forms were intentionally intro- 
 duced. 
 
 1280, I. It is impossible to follow Dindorf in proposing to omit 
 these lines. I follow Professor Jebb's correction of the MSS. reading. 
 
 1286. I follow Elmsley's correction, tivi. 
 
 1346, 7. If we adopt the correction in the second line, & yvuvai, 
 which makes the Chorus wish, not that they had never known who 
 
 y. A. 18 
 
2 74 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Qidipus really was, but that they had never known him at all, it adds 
 force so to render the first line as to express that his skill , which was 
 originally their good fortune, was a misfortune in the end. 
 1 405. I adopt Professor Jebb's reading, t' airoO. 
 T415. Compare Shakspeare, King J. Act III. Sc. i. 
 — leave those woes alone, which I alone 
 Am bound to underbear. 
 This coincidence can hardly be casual. 
 
 1446. The reading which makes this an entreaty — Tpoffrpiipo/juu — 
 appears to me the better. 
 
 1453. I follow the MSS. fwi'Te — not as Dindorf : so also in 1460, 
 Tpo(r8-Q. 
 
 1495. I have followed the emendation ybvounv. 
 1526. Some correction here is necessary; but whatever the 
 reading, I think this must be the meaning intended. 
 
 I take this opportunity of acknowledging with gratification the 
 favourable comments, public and private, which were elicited by my 
 experimental publication of this play. I am especially indebted, for 
 criticism and encouragement, to the kindness of the late Mr Matthew 
 Arnold, and of Mr James Rhoades ; to the Rev. J. B. Mayor, author 
 of Chapters on English Metre, for remarks on the versification ; and 
 to Mr E. D. A. Morshead, for a minute examination of the renderings, 
 which appeared in the Classical Review. 
 
TRACHINIAE 
 
TRACHINIAE 
 
 PERSONS REPRESENTED 
 
 Deianira, daughter of CEneus the chieftain of Pleuron in 
 ■^tolia, and wife to Heracles. 
 
 A bondwoman attending on Deianira. 
 
 Hyllus, eldest son of Heracles by Deianira. 
 
 A messenger, a Melian of Trachis. 
 
 LiCHAS, a herald in attendance on Heracles. 
 
 lOLE, daughter of Eurytus king of CEchalia, captive-wife to 
 Heracles. 
 
 Nurse to Deianira. 
 
 An old man attending on Heracles. 
 
 Heracles. 
 
 The Chorus is composed of ladies of Trachis, friends of 
 Deianira. 
 
 (Echalian women, captives to Heracles. 
 
 Attendants on Heracles. 
 
TRACHINIAE 
 
 Scene, before the house of Heracles, at Trachis. 
 
 Enter Deianira and Attendant. 
 
 Deianira 
 
 'Tis an old well-known proverb of mankind, 
 
 "You cannot tell men's fortunes till they die, 
 
 In any case, if they be good or bad"; 
 
 But I, before I to the grave decline, 
 
 Know that unfortunate and hard are mine : 
 
 Who while still dwelling at Pleuron, in the house 
 
 Of my sire CEneus, had the sorest scare 
 
 About my bridal of all womankind 
 
 Throughout ^tolia. For a river-god 
 
 Was suitor to me — Achelous I mean; 
 
 Who in three shapes asked me at my father's hands. 
 
 Courting me now in a bull's form confest, 
 
 Now as a particoloured coihng snake. 
 
 Now with an ox-front on a trunk of man, 
 
 While out of thickets of his tangled beard 
 
 Rills of spring-watei oozed continually. 
 
 On such a suitor's pleasure I, poor maid. 
 
 Attending, ever prayed that I might die 
 
 Ere I approached his bed. Howbeit at last 
 
 To my relief the illustrious offspring came 
 
 Of Zeus and of Alcmena ; who with him 
 
 Engaging in the arbitrament of fight 
 
 Saved me. What was the fashion of the fray 
 
 I cannot tell ; I do not know it ; he 
 
 Who sat and saw it unalarmed might say. 
 
28o SOPHOCLES 
 
 For I sat still, out of my wits with fear 
 
 Lest, after all, beauty should work me bale ; 
 
 But Zeus, the lord of battles, ended it 
 
 Prosperously — if indeed prosperously. 
 
 For taken to the bed of Heracles, 
 
 Ever I have within me fear on fear. 
 
 Foreboding ill for him. For with each night 
 
 A labour comes and goes; each night, in turn. 
 
 Hands on the torch of labour. We had children, 30 
 
 Whom he, like husbandman that has in hand 
 
 An outlying farm, once, and but once, beheld. 
 
 In seedtime or in harvest. Such a lot 
 
 Still would despatch my husband out and home 
 
 In service to some master. But of late, 
 
 After he rose superior o'er these toils. 
 
 Now, most of all, have I been full of terror. 
 
 For since he smote the might of Iphitus, 
 
 We dwell in Trachis here, far from our home, 
 
 In a friend's house; and whither he has gone 40 
 
 No man can tell ; but gone he is, on me 
 
 Casting a burden of bitter pangs for him. 
 
 And I dare say that he is in some trouble; 
 
 For no brief space, but full ten months already, 
 
 And five to that, he bides, and sends no tidings. 
 
 Ay, and it is some formidable trouble; 
 
 Witness the tablet that he left with me 
 
 In parting; which I often pray to heaven 
 
 He did not give me to my injury. 
 
 Attendant 
 Queen Deianira, many a time ere now 
 Did I behold thee weeping, bathed in tears, 50 
 
 Mourning that Heracles was gone from thee. 
 But now, if it be right for a slave's thoughts 
 To inform the free, this much even I may say; 
 How is it that being rich in sons, so tall. 
 Thou sendest none to seek for Heracles, 
 And chiefly Hyllus, as were natural. 
 If he had any care to hear the news 
 
TRACHlNIAJi 281 
 
 Of his sire's welfare? And in happy time 
 
 Here is himself, bounding towards us home; 
 
 Wherefore, if aught I say seems seasonable. 
 
 He, and my words as well, are at your service. 60 
 
 Enter Hyllus. 
 Deianira 
 O child, my son, even from the lowly born 
 Words may fall well. This is a bond-woman, 
 But she has spoken a frank word. 
 
 Hyllus 
 
 How so? 
 Tell me, my mother, if I may be told. 
 
 Deianira 
 
 That now your sire has been so long from home, 
 Not to know where he is reflects on you. 
 
 Hyllus 
 But I do know, if one may trust report. 
 
 Deianira 
 And where, my son, hear you that he is stayed? 
 
 Hyllus 
 This season past, they say, all the year long 
 He wrought in service to a Lydian dame. 70 
 
 Deianira 
 If he brooked that, one might hear anything. 
 
 Hyllus 
 He is quit of it, however, as they tell me. 
 
 Deianira 
 Where, dead or living, is he rumoured now? 
 Hyllus 
 
 They say he is assailing, in Euboea, 
 Or means to assail, the city of Eurytus. 
 
282 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Deianira 
 Child, do you know he left behind with me 
 Sure oracles concerning that same land? 
 
 Hyllus 
 In what strain, mother? I never heard of it. 
 Deianira 
 
 That he is bound to either end his days, 
 
 Or, this one feat performed, thereafterward 80 
 
 Lead his whole future life in happiness. 
 
 Child ! when his fortune hangs in such suspense. 
 
 Will you not run to help? Seeing we are saved 
 
 In his life's safety, or are lost with him. 
 
 Hyllus 
 Yes mother, I will go. If I had heard 
 The tenor of these oracles, long since 
 Had I been with him ; now I know of them, 
 I will leave nought undone, to ascertain 
 The whole truth of the matter. As things are. 
 His wonted fortune bids us not to fear 90 
 
 Or quake too much beforehand, for my sire. 
 
 Deianira 
 
 Speed then, my son. It is worth while to know 
 Things have gone well, however late, with us. 
 
 Exit Hyllus. 
 
 Enter Ladies of Trachis, as Chorus. 
 Chorus 
 
 O Thou whom the Shadow of Night being slain 
 
 Brings forth, then lays to repose again, 
 
 Sun, flaming Sun, I implore of thee 
 
 The thing I seek to reveal to me, 
 
 With bright flash blazing, say where — O where 
 
 Is the dwelling-place of Alcmena's heir? 
 
 Whether in sea-channels hiding, 
 
 Or on either coast abiding, 
 Thou all-transcendent Eye of Heaven, declare ! 
 
TRACmNIAE 283 
 
 For 'tis with a yearning of heart I have heard 
 How she, my queen, hke a waiUng bird, 
 (A bride much fought for — an envied prize) 
 Never sinks to the slumber of tearless eyes. 
 But bears in her bosom a mindful fear 
 For the wandering toils of her husband dear ; 
 
 On her widowed bed reclining, no 
 
 Wistfully at all times pining, 
 In the terror of misfortune drawing near. 
 
 II. I. 
 
 For as waves are seen thronging and flowing 
 
 Amid the wide sea, 
 When the south wind or north wind is blowing 
 
 Unwearyingly, 
 Such huge Cretan ocean of troubles 
 
 On troubles upbears 
 The offspring of Cadmus, and doubles 
 
 His portion of cares. 
 But him some Power evermore stands near to save 
 In scathlessness, from the halls of the yawning grave. 120 
 
 II. J.. 
 
 And therefore it is that I chide thee ; 
 
 Things pleasant, say I, 
 May yet be in store to betide thee, 
 
 Howe'er thou deny. 
 I say, the good hope that remaineth 
 
 Thou need'st not dispel, 
 For Zeus, who omnipotent reigneth. 
 
 Gives sorrows as well. 
 So ever we move in a circle of joy and care, 130 
 
 That whirl hke the whirling ways of the Arctic Bear. 
 
 For neither shadowy night nor fated sorrow 
 
 Nor wealth abides, but suddenly it is gone ; 
 Joy finds us, and bereavement thereupon 
 Comes, on the morrow. 
 Wherefore I bid thee also, O my queen. 
 Remember this, and hope ; for who hath seen 
 Zeus of his own 
 So unregardful grown? 14° 
 
284 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Deianira 
 
 You come having been told, as I suppose, 
 
 Of my distress; but you are ignorant — 
 
 And may you never by experience learn — 
 
 What canker gnaws my heart. For Girlhood feeds 
 
 In the same place, in pastures such as these ; 
 
 And not the heat of Heaven, or the rain, 
 
 Or any blast of tempests, troubles it ; 
 
 But in delights it rears a painless life. 
 
 Up to the point where we obtain the name 
 
 Of wife instead of maiden, and receive 
 
 Share, in the night-time, of solicitudes. 
 
 Portioned with fears, either for spouse or child. 150 
 
 Thus may each see, regarding her own case, 
 
 Under what burdens I am labouring. 
 
 Troubles indeed right many have I deplored; 
 
 But one such as I never felt before, 
 
 Which I will now disclose. For when our lord 
 
 Heracles sped from home on his last journey, 
 
 He left indoors an ancient tablet, graven 
 
 With characters, which never theretofore 
 
 At any time, starting for fight on fight, 
 
 Would he declare to me; rather, he would march 
 
 As to achievement, not as to his death ; 160 
 
 While now, as though his life were done, he told me 
 
 What of his goods I was to take for dower, 
 
 Told me what portion of his heritage 
 
 He would assign his children, share by share, 
 
 Setting a date beforehand, in such sort 
 
 As, when he had been absent from the land 
 
 Full fifteen months, either at that same hour 
 
 He must needs die, or, overpassing it, 
 
 Live ever afterwards in happiness. 
 
 So, he declared, it was decreed of Heaven 
 
 The toils of Heracles should have an end; 170 
 
 Even as Dodona's ancient oak, said he. 
 
 By the twin doves had spoken. And of this 
 
 The true fulfilment, as it was to be, 
 
TRACHINIAE 285 
 
 Points to this present hour. Wherefore, dear friends, 
 As I sleep quietly I start up for fear. 
 Dreading that I may have to linger on, 
 The widow of the foremost man of men. 
 
 I Lady 
 Keep to good words ; for I perceive a man 
 Crowned with a wreath, coming to give us joy. 
 
 Enter a Messenger. 
 Messenger 
 Queen Deianira, first of messengers 180 
 
 I will release you from expectancy. 
 For be assured, Heracles is alive, 
 And is victorious, and is bringing home 
 Trophies from fight to the land's deities. 
 
 Deianira 
 What is it that you say, old man? 
 
 Messenger 
 
 That soon 
 The husband whom you long for will arrive 
 Here, at your doors, in triumph. 
 
 Deianira 
 
 And from whom. 
 Townsman or stranger, have you this to say? 
 
 Messenger 
 
 Lichas the herald in the pasture-meadow 
 
 Is shouting it to crowds ; hearing whose tale 
 
 I rushed away, to bring you the first news, 190 
 
 And be rewarded, and win grace with you. 
 
 Deianira 
 If he speeds well, why is himself not here ? 
 
 Messenger 
 Madam, he is not quite at liberty. 
 Why, the whole Melian people in a ring 
 
286 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Stand by and question him ; he cannot stir ; 
 For every one, wishing to ascertain 
 His heart's desire, will not relinquish it 
 Before he hears his fill ; so Lichas tarries 
 Unwillingly, among willing company ; 
 But you will see him in an instant, plainly. 
 
 Deianira 
 
 Zeus, thou that holdest CEta's mead unmown, 
 
 At last, though late, thou hast vouchsafed us joy. 
 
 Lift up your voices, women — you indoors 
 
 And you without the gates ! So gather we 
 
 The glory of the unexpected orb 
 
 Of this report, rising before me now ! 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Loud let the household shout 
 In the shrill treble of maidens, brides to be ! 
 
 — Let the hearth ring out, 
 And clamour of men join in the harmony, 
 Praising Apollo's name, who bears the quiver, 
 Strong to deliver ! 
 
 Her, withal, ye virgins praise — 
 
 Psean — your poean raise 
 
 To the twin sister — her. 
 The Ortygian Artemis, the deerslayer, 
 
 Fire-girt on either hand. 
 
 And to the Nymphs, her band ! 
 — See, I mount, I soar beyond control ; 
 Nor will I spurn the flute— O monarch of my soul ! 
 Lo, I feel the ivy-frenzy, whirling me along — 
 Evoe ! Evoe ! after the Bacchic throng ! 
 Hail Pjean, Paean hail ! 
 — Dear lady, see, 
 
 It is all here for thee 
 Face to face to witness, without veil. 
 
 Enter Lichas, with Iole and CEchalian Captives. 
 Deianira 
 I see it, dear ladies ; my eyes' vigilance 
 Missed not the vision of this company ; 
 
TRACHINIAE 287 
 
 And Herald, I bid thee welcome, though full late 
 Arrived, if thou bring'st welcome news with thee. 
 
 LiCHAS 
 
 Well am I come, and am well greeted, lady, 
 
 As I deserve; good fortune cannot fail 230 
 
 To win a hearty welcome. 
 
 Deianira 
 
 Most sweet sir, 
 First answer my first craving; is it true 
 I shall receive back Heracles alive ? 
 
 LiCHAS 
 
 I left him, certainly, alive and strong, 
 And flourishing, and sick of no disease. 
 
 Deianira 
 Where? In his own land, or in Asia? Tell me. 
 
 LiCHAS 
 
 There is a promontory in Euboea, 
 Where to Cenaean Zeus he consecrates 
 Altars, and tribute of meat-offerings. 
 
 Deianira 
 According to some vow or oracle? 
 
 LiCHAS 
 
 Vows, made when he despoiled and overthrew 240 
 
 The country of these women — whom you see. 
 
 Deianira 
 
 And they — whence and who are they, in Heaven's name? 
 Poor things — if I can judge of miseries ! 
 
 lylCHAS 
 
 These, when he sacked the city of Eurytus, 
 He chose for the Gods' portion, and his own. 
 
 Deianira 
 
 Was it against that city he was gone 
 
 The unmeasured space of those uncounted days? 
 
288 SOPHOCLES 
 
 LiCHAS 
 
 Not so ; most of the time he was detained 
 
 Among the Lydians ; by his own account 
 
 Not a free man, but sold to slavery. 250 
 
 Shame at the word, lady, there needs not be. 
 
 When Zeus is known to have effected it. 
 
 Well, sold to Omphale, the native queen, 
 
 He served her, as he says, for a full year. 
 
 And under this reproach he was so nettled, 
 
 That with an oath he bound himself, and vowed 
 
 The time should come he would enslave the man — 
 
 Wife, child and all — who caused him this annoy : 
 
 Nor did he vow in vain ; but gathering, 
 
 When he was cleansed, an army of allies, 
 
 He marched against the city of Eurytus ; 
 
 For Eurytus, he sware, and he alone, 260 
 
 Was accessory to this injury ; 
 
 Who, when he came into his house a guest, 
 
 Being of old familiar there, stormed at him 
 
 With loud abuse and deep malevolence 
 
 Of spirit — saying that although he bore 
 
 Arrows inevitable, he was surpassed 
 
 By sons of his, in trial of the bow; 
 
 And roared, that being a slave, from a free man 
 
 He should take chastisement ; and when in wine 
 
 Once, at a feast, he cast him out of doors. 
 
 Angered at this, when Iphitus in turn 270 
 
 Came to the slope of Tiryns, to track out 
 
 Some horses that were ranging, as he stood 
 
 Gazing at something, with his wits afield, 
 
 He hurled him from the tower-like mountain-top. 
 
 And for that deed the King, being incensed, 
 
 Zeus, the Olympian father of us all, 
 
 Sent him forth to be sold ; intolerant 
 
 For that him only of mankind by craft 
 
 He slew ; for had he fought him openly, 
 
 Zeus surely would have pardoned that he wrought 
 
 By violence, with right upon his side; 
 
TRACHINIAE 289 
 
 For insolence is loathed, even in Heaven. 280 
 
 Well, they, with tongues of overweening spite. 
 
 Now are themselves all inmates of the grave, 
 
 Their city enslaved ; while these whom you survey, 
 
 Once happy, but now fallen on joyless days, 
 
 Are journeying toward your presence. Thus your lord 
 
 Charged me, and I, being his liege-man, perform. 
 
 As for himself, when to his father, Zeus, 
 
 He has discharged solemn thank-offerings 
 
 For the town's fall, you may expect him here. 
 
 That is the best good news of my long story. 290 
 
 I Lady 
 
 Mistress, now is your happiness assured. 
 Half being in hand, and half reported you. 
 
 Deianira 
 
 How can I help rejoicing heartily 
 
 At hearing this good fortune of my lord ? 
 
 It cannot be that it should not be so ; 
 
 Yet is it natural that the vigilant 
 
 Should tremble for one prosperous, lest he fall. 
 
 For a strange pity is come upon me, friends, 
 
 Seeing these poor creatures, houseless, fatherless, 
 
 Wanderers here upon a foreign soil, 300 
 
 Who were before, it may be, gently born, 
 
 But are now leading lives of slavery. 
 
 Averting Zeus ! Ne'er let me see thee thus 
 
 Making assault upon my progeny ! 
 
 Or, if thou must, spare us till I am dead ! 
 
 Such are my terrors, in beholding them. 
 
 — Who and what are you, miserable girl? 
 
 Maiden, or childing mother? You appear 
 
 Skill-less of all such matters, outwardly; 
 
 Some lady, too. Lichas, who is the stranger? 310 
 
 Who was her mother ? Who her father ? Say ; 
 
 Since her I pity, most of all I see, 
 
 For that she only has the wit to feel. 
 
 y. A. 19 
 
290 SOPHOCLES 
 
 LiCHAS 
 
 What do I know? Why should you ask me? A slip 
 Of those from thence, not of the lowest, it may be. 
 
 Deianira 
 What, of their kings ? Offspring of Eurytus ? 
 
 LiCHAS 
 
 I do not know. I did not question her 
 At length. 
 
 Deianira 
 Nor did you ever get her name 
 From any of her fellow-travellers? 
 
 LiCHAS 
 
 Nay, 
 I did my work in silence. 
 
 Deianira 
 
 Then, poor maid, 
 Tell us yourself; for not to know your name 320 
 
 Is melancholy ! 
 
 LiCHAS 
 
 If she at all wag tongue, 
 It will be something different from before ; 
 For no word has she uttered, less or more ; 
 But she is always shedding tears, in travail 
 Of heavy woe, poor creature, since she left 
 Her storm-swept land. This state of things is bad 
 For her own self ; but it is pardonable. 
 
 Deianira 
 Well, let her be ; and let her pass indoors 
 In peace, as she likes best, and not be given 330 
 
 Fresh pain by me, more than her present troubles ; 
 For what she suffers is sufficient. Now 
 Go we all in ; that you may speed your errand, 
 And I provide for what is wanted there. 
 
 Exeunt LiCHAS, Idle and Captives. 
 
TRACHINIAE 291 
 
 Messenger 
 
 First, for an instant tarry where you are, 
 
 That you may learn, apart from them, what persons 
 
 You are conducting in ; and may perceive 
 
 Things you should know, nothing of which was told you. 
 
 Of the whole business I am cognizant. 
 
 Deianira 
 What is it? Why do you stop me as I go? 
 
 Messenger 
 Stand still and hear; for not in vain you heard 340 
 
 My former tale; nor will you this, I fancy. 
 
 Deianira 
 
 What, shall we call the others back again, 
 Or would you tell it to these maids and me? 
 
 Messenger 
 To you and these, freely; but let them be. 
 
 Deianira 
 Well, they are gone. Now let the tale be told. 
 
 Messenger 
 Lichas says nothing, of all he spake just now, 
 Straightforwardly; but either is a knave 
 Now, or before was no true messenger. 
 
 Deianira 
 What say you? Tell me plainly your whole mind; 
 For what you have announced is dark to me. 350 
 
 Messenger 
 I heard this man, with many a witness by, 
 Say that our master conquered Eurytus 
 And the high ramparts of CEchalia's town. 
 For this girl's sake ; and that Love only of Gods 
 Allured him to the combat; not his toil 
 Wrought with the Lydians, or with Omphale, 
 
 19 — 2 
 
292 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Nor fate of Iphitus hurled headlong ; Love — 
 
 Which he slurs over, and unsays it now. 
 
 But when he could not work upon her sire 
 
 To give the maid to be his paramour, 360 
 
 Dressing up some small grievance for a cause, 
 
 He leads an army against her country, where 
 
 This Eurytus, Lichas declared, was monarch. 
 
 And slays the king her father, and sacks the town. 
 
 And now, you see, he is arrived, and sends her 
 
 To this house, lady; not unthinkingly, 
 
 Nor as a slave ; never imagine it ! 
 
 That were unlikely, fervid with desire 
 
 As he has been. Therefore I thought it good 
 
 To you, my mistress, to reveal the whole 
 
 Of what I came to know from this man's mouth. 370 
 
 Many Trachinians, in mid market-place, 
 
 Heard the whole story, equally with me, 
 
 And can convict him. If my words give pain 
 
 I am sorry, but I have spoken what is truth. 
 
 Deianira 
 O me unhappy ! What has come to me ? 
 What bane have I received under my roof 
 From me kept secret ! O me miserable 1 
 And was she nameless, as he sware who brought her? 
 
 Messenger 
 Nay but in birth, as in her face, a prize ! 
 Eurytus was her father; she was named 380 
 
 lole — of whose descent the fellow there 
 Let no word fall — " asking no questions, " quoth he ! 
 
 I Lady 
 
 Down with ill doers ! those at least, who do 
 Evil in secret which beseems them not! 
 
 Deianira 
 
 Women, what must I do? How by the tale 
 Which is now told me am I thunderstricken ! 
 
TRACHiNlAE 293 
 
 I Lady 
 Why go and ask the man ; for if you choose 
 To press for answers, he will soon speak plain. 
 
 Deianira 
 Well, so I will. You do not say amiss. 
 
 I Lady 
 And shall we stay? Or what are we to do? 390 
 
 Deianira 
 Stay ; for, without my sending, here he comes 
 Of his own motion from the house. 
 
 Enter Lichas. 
 
 LiCHAS 
 
 Say, lady. 
 What message must I take to Heracles? 
 I am going, as you see. 
 
 Deianira 
 How speedily 
 You are starting — after taking long to come — 
 Before we can renew our colloquy ! 
 
 Lichas 
 If you would ask some question, here I am. 
 
 Deianira 
 Ah, do you tell the truth in honesty? 
 
 Lichas 
 Great Zeus be witness ! yes, of what I know. 
 
 Deianira 
 Who is the woman, pray, whom you brought hither ? 400 
 
 Lichas 
 She's an Euboean; her birth I cannot tell. 
 
^94 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Messenger 
 Fellow, look here ; to whom do you suppose 
 You speak? 
 
 LiCHAS 
 
 What business is it of yours to ask me ? 
 
 Messenger 
 Answer my question frankly, if you know how. 
 
 LiCHAS 
 
 To the daughter of CEneus, wife of Heracles, 
 
 The potent Deianira — if my eyes 
 
 Do not deceive me — and my mistress. 
 
 Messenger 
 
 That 
 I wanted — to hear that from you. You say 
 This is your mistress? 
 
 LiCHAS 
 
 So she is. 
 
 Messenger 
 
 What then? 
 What penalty do you expect to pay, 410 
 
 If you are found out playing false to her? 
 
 LiCHAS 
 
 How false? What juggle are you planning? 
 
 Messenger 
 
 None. 
 But, in good earnest, you are acting one ! 
 
 LiCHAS 
 
 I am going. I was foolish all along 
 To listen to you. 
 
 Messenger 
 
 Not before you answer 
 Just one short question. 
 
TRACHINIAE 29S 
 
 LiCHAS 
 
 Ask it, if you please. 
 You are loquacious. 
 
 Messenger 
 
 The girl-prize, whom you 
 Conducted hither — I suppose you know her? 
 
 LiCHAS 
 
 I do. But wherefore ask me? 
 
 Messenger 
 
 Did not you 
 Say this your charge, whom you ignore by sight, 
 Was lole, offspring of Eurytus? 420 
 
 LiCHAS 
 
 To whom? Who will attest you, from what quarter, 
 That he was present, and heard this from me? 
 
 Messenger 
 
 Many of the people. In mid market-place 
 Of the Trachinians, plenty heard you say it. 
 
 LiCHAS 
 
 ay, 
 
 1 said I heard so. There's a difference 
 'Twixt saying one's guess, and speaking rigidly. 
 
 Messenger 
 Your guess, indeed ! Did you not say, and swear it, 
 You brought her as a wife for Heracles? 
 
 LiCHAS 
 
 I bring a wife ! For Heaven's sake, my dear lady, 
 
 Tell me his name; who is this stranger? 430 
 
 Messenger 
 
 One 
 Present, who heard you say that a whole city 
 Was subjugated for the love of her; 
 And that desire for her, notoriously. 
 And not the Lydian princess, ruined it. 
 
296 SOPHOCLE,S 
 
 LiCHAS 
 
 My mistress — let the man stand back. To prate 
 With a man crazy is to play the fool. 
 
 Deianira 
 
 Now in Jove's name, who sends his lightnings down 
 
 On Oita's wooded height, palter not with me ! 
 
 For you will say your say to no bad wife. 
 
 Or unfamiliar with the ways of men. 
 
 How that their nature is to take delight 
 
 Not in the same things always. With Desire 440 
 
 Whoever, like a boxer, fist to fist 
 
 Rises in conflict, is not well advised ; 
 
 For it sways even deities at will, 
 
 Ay and myself; and why not others too 
 
 Who are like me? so that, if I find fault 
 
 With my own spouse, caught by this malady, 
 
 Or with this woman, who shares with him in that 
 
 Which is no scandal, and no harm to me, 
 
 I must be mad. The case is otherwise. 
 
 Now if by his instruction you speak falsely, 
 
 You are a scholar in no worthy school ; 450 
 
 While if you are yourself your tutor here. 
 
 You will be found injurious, when you wish 
 
 To be of service. Tell me all the truth. 
 
 For a free man to earn the name of liar 
 
 Is a misfortune that dishonours him. 
 
 Nor can it be that you will not be known ; 
 
 For many are they you have talked with, who will tell me. 
 
 And if you are frightened, you do ill to quail; 
 
 For it would vex me not to be informed, 
 
 But where's the harm of knowing ? Are there not wives — 
 
 Others besides — full many — whom Heracles 460 
 
 Took, to himself — and never one of them 
 
 Bore evil language or reproach from me? 
 
 No more shall she; not though he melt quite through 
 
 With his affection; since I pitied her 
 
 As I surveyed her, truly, most of all; 
 
TRACHINIAE 29? 
 
 For that her beauty was her bane, and she, 
 Poor thing, brought down, without intending it, 
 On her own land spoiling and slavery. 
 Well, let all this go floating down the gale ! 
 Only I charge you — unto others be 
 Injurious — but at all times true to me. 
 
 I Lady 
 Hearken ; she counsels fairly. By and by 470 
 
 You will approve her, and find grace with me. 
 
 LiCHAS 
 
 O mistress dear, now I discern in you 
 
 A human creature — human, and not stubborn. 
 
 The whole truth will I tell you, and hide it not. 
 
 For so it is, even as this man reports ; 
 
 It was for her that the fell passion passed 
 
 Through Heracles of late ; and for her sake 
 
 Her death-strewn native land, CEchalia, 
 
 Was desolated by the spear. All this — 
 
 For I must say, also, what makes for him — 
 
 He never bade conceal — never denied ; 480 
 
 But I myself, my mistress, in alarm 
 
 Lest I should' wound your bosom with the news, 
 
 Was guilty there, if guilt you reckon it. 
 
 Now that you know the whole, both for his sake 
 
 And yours no less, be patient with the woman, 
 
 And be determined firmly to abide 
 
 By all that you declared concerning her ; 
 
 Since he, the vanquisher of all beside. 
 
 Is wholly mastered by his love for her. 
 
 Deianira 
 Yes. That is my conclusion, so to act. 490 
 
 Harm from without I do not mean to incur. 
 Fighting at odds with Heaven. Now let us go 
 Into the house; that you may bear from me 
 Letters, with words ; and, gift for gift, whatever 
 Is fitting to bestow, may take that also. 
 
298 SOFBOCLES 
 
 Hither you came with a fair company, 
 
 And pity it were you should go empty hence. 
 
 Exeunt Deianira, attendant, Lichas, and Messenger. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 1. 
 
 Great is the might wherewith ever the triumphs of Cypris are won. 
 The loves of the Gods I pass over, and how she beguiled Cronos' son, 
 Or Poseidon, the shaker of Earth, or Hades, the indweller of night, 
 I tell not ; I sing what strong-limbed pair went down to the fight — 
 Fight for the prize of a nuptial, to win this woman to wife, 
 And battled with buffet on buffet, and wrestled out strife upon strife. 
 
 1. 
 The first was shaped like a high-homed four-legged bull to see, 
 Achelous, the strong River, from far CEniadae; 
 
 And the son of Jove from Theba, the city of Bacchus, came, 510 
 With bended bow, and with brandished club, and with spears at aim ; 
 And fired by desire they hurtled together, straight to the fray; 
 And Cypris sat by, with her wand held high, sole queen of the day. 
 
 There was noise of fists crashing and of bulls' horns clashing, 
 
 And a sound of the twanging of bows; 
 There were limbs twining in medley, there were forehead-thrusts deadly, 
 
 And groans that from both sides rose. 520 
 
 But the tender fair 
 
 On far-seen upland brows 
 Sat, expecting there 
 
 Who should be her spouse; 
 As a mother I say what I am saying ; 
 But the visage of the bride 
 For whom men contend 
 Wistfully abides the end ; 
 Then, like a heifer straying, 
 
 Sudden is parted from her mother's side. 530 
 
 Enter Deianira. 
 Deianira 
 Friends, while our guest is parleying in the house 
 With the girl-captives, on the point to go, 
 I am come forth to you in private, first 
 
TRACHINIA£. 29^ 
 
 Wishing to tell you my devices, next 
 
 To be condoled with for my injuries. 
 
 For I have taken into my house a maid — 
 
 And yet, methinks, a maid no more, but married — 
 
 Even as a shipman takes a load on board, 
 
 A losing bargain for my heart ! And now 
 
 We two abide under one covering 
 
 To be embraced. This reward Heracles — 540 
 
 Whom I did hold constant and excellent — 
 
 Sent, in return for my long house-tending. 
 
 And him I cannot be indignant with, 
 
 Often afflicted with this malady ; 
 
 But to keep house with her, and to go shares 
 
 In the same marriage-bond — what wife could do it? 
 
 For I see bloom on her side coming on, 
 
 And on mine fading ; and of such the sight 
 
 Will pick the flower, and eschew the rest. 
 
 This, then, is what I fear; that Heracles 550 
 
 Will be called spouse to me, but be her mate, 
 
 The younger woman. Still it is not well 
 
 A wife who has discretion, as I said. 
 
 Should become wroth ; rather in what way, friends, 
 
 My anguish does admit of remedy, 
 
 Lo, I will tell you. I have long possessed 
 
 A keepsake of a monster of old time. 
 
 Put by in a brass vessel, which I gathered. 
 
 When yet a girl, out of the mortal wounds 
 
 Of the shag-bosomed Nessus, as he died ; 
 
 Who used to carry men across the ford 
 
 Of the Evenus, a deep stream, for hire, 560 
 
 With his mere hands, plying without oar or sail. 
 
 He, when I first with Heracles a bride 
 
 Went, at my sire's disposing, carrying me 
 
 Upon his back, when he was in mid-passage. 
 
 Touched me with wanton hands. And I cried out; 
 
 And straight the son of Jove turned, and his hands 
 
 Launched a winged shaft ; and it whizzed through the breast. 
 
 Into his lungs. And as the brute expired. 
 
 He spake these words ; " Child of old CEneus, 
 
ioo SOPHOCLS.^ 
 
 If you will hear, you shall have this much profit, 570 
 
 Seeing that you were my last of passengers. 
 
 Out of my ferry; for if you collect 
 
 The gore that stiffens round my deadly wound, 
 
 Just where the black envenomed shafts were dipped 
 
 In blood of the Lernaean water-snake, 
 
 A medicine for the heart of Heracles 
 
 It shall be to you ; so that he shall love 
 
 No woman whom he looks on, more than you." 
 
 Mindful of this, my friends — for since his death 
 
 It has been carefully locked up at home — 
 
 I dipped this tunic, and threw in the whole 580 
 
 Of what he told me just before he died. 
 
 This has been done. Now never may I know — 
 
 Never be taught — evil experiments ; 
 
 Nay, those who try them I detest ; but if 
 
 By philtres I may circumvent this girl, 
 
 And by enchantments upon Heracles — 
 
 Why, means have been supplied; unless I seem 
 
 Busied in vain ; if so, I will not do it. 
 
 I Lady 
 
 If there is any surety about things 
 Yet in the doing, you appear to us 
 To have resolved not ill. 
 
 Deianira 
 
 Thus much there is; 
 The likelihood is there ; but in the trial 590 
 
 I never yet engaged. 
 
 I Lady 
 
 Well, one must learn 
 By doing the thing; for though you think you know it 
 You have no certainty, until you try. 
 
 Deianira 
 Well, we shall know directly; for I see 
 Lichas already at the door ; and quickly 
 He will be here. Only let me, by you. 
 
TRACHINIAE 301 
 
 Be covered well ; for never in the dark 
 
 Need you be brought to shame, though you are doing 
 
 What is unseemly. 
 
 Enter Lichas. 
 
 LiCHAS 
 
 What am I to do, 
 Daughter of (Eneus? Tell me; for we are 
 Already late, through our long tarrying. 
 
 Deianira 
 Why indeed, Lichas, to that very end 600 
 
 Have I been busy, while you stayed to talk 
 To the girl-guests within; that you should bear 
 This fine-woven garment to that spouse of mine, 
 A present from my hand. And when you give it, 
 Say that no mortal is to put it on 
 Before himself; and that no sunlight beam, 
 Or holy fane, or flame from altar-hearth 
 Is to behold it, till he shall stand up 
 Radiant, and shew himself, before high Heaven, 
 Conspicuous, on a day of sacrifice. 
 
 For so I vowed, if ever I should see him 610 
 
 Come safely home, or hear of it, to deck him 
 All duly with this tunic, and display him 
 As a new votary, in new robes, to Heaven. 
 And there shall be a seal on your dispatch, 
 Which he will see distinctly corresponds 
 With the impression of my signet-ring. 
 Now go; and seek, first, to observe the rule. 
 Not to desire, being a mere messenger. 
 To exceed your bounds ; next, that his grace and mine 
 May both together be displayed towards you. 
 
 Lichas 
 If this Hermetic courier-craft of mine 620 
 
 Is trusty, you shall never find me fail 
 To carry and present your casket safe. 
 Adding exactly what you bid me say. 
 
302 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Deianira 
 Now, if you please, set forth ; for you know well 
 All that is going on within the house. 
 
 LiCHAS 
 
 I know and will report all has gone well. 
 
 Deianira 
 Ay, and about the stranger — you have seen 
 What kind reception I bestowed on her? 
 
 Lichas 
 Such as to strike delight into my bosom ! 
 
 Deianira 
 
 What more, then, should you tell him? For I dread 630 
 Your saying, too early, how I long for him, 
 Before I know whether he longs for me. 
 
 Exit Lichas ; Deianira retires. 
 
 Chorus 
 I. i. 
 
 O ye who dwell where the warm springs well 
 
 From the cHffs where navies ride, 
 Who by CEta's peaks or the mid-land creeks 
 
 Of Melia's gulf abide, 
 Or the shores, deep-bayed, of Her, the Maid 
 
 With distaff all of gold. 
 Where stand the Gates, where the Grecian States 
 
 Their solemn councils hold, 
 
 I. .. 
 
 The clarion sweet no note unmeet g-o 
 
 Shall raise among you soon, 
 But such as suits with the sound of lutes 
 
 Played to a sacred tune. 
 Now Alcmena's son, the Jove-born one, 
 
 Comes, bringing in his train 
 The glorious spoils of all his toils 
 
 To his own home again: 
 
TRACHINIAE 303 
 
 II. I. 
 
 Whom we waited for and thought, a full twelve-month, knowing nought. 
 
 "He is far from his land, upon the wave:" 
 She the while, his loving mate, mourning her unhappy fate, 650 
 
 Weeping ever, and declining towards her grave : 
 Till, stung to life, Eros at last 
 
 Gives her release, but now, from days of labours past. 
 
 II. 2. 
 
 Let him come ! let him come ! Never till he reach his home 
 
 Let the chariot of his oars stand still ! 
 From the island-altar where, as 'tis said, he is at prayer, 
 
 Let him speed, with all lover-like good will, 660 
 
 As by the Centaur's oracle. 
 
 Anointed with the balsam of the suasive spell. 
 
 Deianira advancing 
 
 women, how I tremble lest, in all 
 
 1 have been doing, I should have gone too far ! 
 
 I Lady 
 What is it, Deianira, QEneus' child? 
 
 Deianira 
 
 I do not know. But I am sick at heart, 
 
 For fear I should be found, soon, to have done. 
 
 Quite contrary to my fair hope, great harm ! 
 
 I Lady 
 Not something in your gift to Heracles? 
 
 Deianira 
 
 Yes, yes ! So that I never shall approve, 
 
 In any, a readiness to undertake 
 
 A work of which the issue is not plain ! 670 
 
 I Lady 
 Tell me what scares you— if it may be told. 
 
304 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Deianira 
 
 A thing has happened such as, if I tell it, 
 
 women, you will think a miracle 
 
 Beyond belief to hear. The fleece, you know. 
 
 Wherewith I was anointing even now 
 
 The vestment-garment, of a sheep's white wool, 
 
 'Tis gone ! by nothing in the house devoured, 
 
 But wasting, eaten up of its own self. 
 
 And shrivelling on the pavement. I will tell you 
 
 At greater length, that you may know the whole, 
 
 How it befell. Of all the Centaur-beast 680 
 
 Of yore enjoined me, when he felt the smart 
 
 Of the sharp-pointed arrow in his side, 
 
 1 let slip nothing, but remembered it, 
 Like writing on brass leaves, indelibly; 
 
 And this was what he told me, and so I wrought ; 
 
 I was to keep this drug always put by, 
 
 Away from fire, untouched by the warm beam. 
 
 Till, newly spread, I could make use of it. 
 
 And so I did ; but now 'twas time to use it, 
 
 I tore the fluff from a sheep's fleece of mine, 
 
 And with a wool-tuft smeared my gift, at home, 690 
 
 Indoors, in secret ; folded it, and put it 
 
 Inside a coffer, safe, out of the sun. 
 
 As you perceived. But going indoors just now 
 
 I saw a sight quite indescribable — 
 
 Incomprehensible ! For as it happened, 
 
 I had flung the lock, with which I did the spreading. 
 
 Out in the sunlight, into its full blaze. 
 
 And as it became warmer it dissolved. 
 
 And has all shrivelled up upon the ground. 
 
 In form most to be likened to the look 
 
 Which sawdust takes, when they cut wood ; so lies it, 700 
 
 All fallen away. And from the ground whereon 
 
 It lay before there spring up clots of foam, 
 
 As of rich liquor spilt upon the earth 
 
 From vines of Bacchus, when the fruit turns blue. 
 
 So that I know not where to turn, for trouble; 
 
TRACHINIAE 305 
 
 But see that I have done a perilous deed. 
 
 For from what possible motive — on what score 
 
 Could the brute, dying, have shewn good will to me, 
 
 For whose cause he was dying ? It cannot be ! 
 
 But, seeking to destroy the man that smote him. 
 
 He was beguiling me! Whereof too late 710 
 
 I get the knowledge, when it helps no more; 
 
 For I — I only, except I be deceived — 
 
 Wretch ! in my mind, shall be his murderess ! 
 
 For I know well, the shaft that made the wound 
 
 Lamed Chiron, though immortal; and it kills 
 
 Wild beasts of every kind, if it but graze them ; 
 
 And this black gory venom, passing on 
 
 From the death-wounds of one victim, how can it 
 
 Not slay him too? at least, I fancy so. 
 
 Yet am I fixed, if Heracles miscarries. 
 
 In the same moment I will die with him ; 720 
 
 For life ill- famed is unendurable 
 
 To one who claims to have been born in honour. 
 
 I Lady 
 
 Fear about perilous deeds is necessary. 
 
 Still, Hope must not be sentenced, ere her time. 
 
 Deianira 
 There is not, in designs which are not honest, 
 Even hope, to vouch for any spark of cheer. 
 
 I Lady 
 
 But in their case who trip not wilfully 
 Anger is mild; and you should find it so. 
 
 Deianira 
 
 Such words no sharer in the offence would use, 
 
 But one who has no heaviness within. 730 
 
 I Lady 
 Silence from further talk of this were fitting. 
 Unless you have a word to tell your son, 
 Who went to seek his sire; for he is here. 
 
 V. A. 20 
 
3o6 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Enter Hyllus. 
 Hyllus 
 Mother, I would one of three things were true 
 About you ; that you should have ceased to live, 
 Or if you lived, should have been known for mother 
 Of some one else, or should have somewhere gained 
 A better spirit than is in you now. 
 
 Deianira 
 
 son, what is it that you hate in me? 
 
 Hyllus 
 
 1 tell you, on this same day you have destroyed 
 
 Your husband — him, I say, who is my sire. 740 
 
 Deianira 
 Oh! 
 What is the word you uttered, O my child? 
 
 Hyllus 
 One 'tis impossible should come untrue. 
 For who can make not done, what was seen doing? 
 
 Deianira 
 How say you, boy? Whence did you learn to say 
 That I have wrought a deed so execrable? 
 
 Hyllus 
 
 It is myself have witnessed, with my eyes. 
 Not from report, my father's heavy chance. 
 
 Deianira 
 Where did you meet him and attend on him? 
 
 Hyllus 
 If you must know, I must relate the whole. 
 As he was marching, after having taken 7^0 
 
 Eurytus' famous city, bringing off 
 Trophies and first fruits of his victory. 
 There is a promontory in Eubcea, 
 Cape Ceneum, washed upon both sides by sea. 
 
TRACHINIAE 3°7 
 
 Where he was marking, for his father, Zeus, 
 
 Altars and precincts of a sacred grove, 
 
 When I first viewed him, glad of my desire. 
 
 And just as he was going to begin 
 
 A course of sacrifices, from his home 
 
 Came Lichas, his own herald, bringing him 
 
 Your gift, the deadly gown; which he put on, 
 
 As you had given command ; then of his cattle 760 
 
 Slew twelve tall bulls, the firstlings of the spoil ; 
 
 (But he was offering, flocks and herds in all, 
 
 A hundred head together.) And at first, 
 
 Proud of the beauty and the state of it. 
 
 In a blithe mood, poor soul, he began praying; 
 
 But when above the sacred mysteries 
 
 Flame, fed with blood, and rich with resinous fuel 
 
 Was kindling, out upon his flesh there came 
 
 Sweat, and the tunic clung, close to his sides. 
 
 As moulded by an artist, limb by limb ; 
 
 Then came a racking aching of his bones; 770 
 
 Next, as the venom of the abhorred snake 
 
 Took to its murderous banquet, suddenly 
 
 He shouted to the unhappy Lichas — him 
 
 Who for your fault was not at all to blame — 
 
 What machinations made him bring that gown? 
 
 But he,, unhappy, nothing knowing, said 
 
 It was your gift alone, just as you sent it. 
 
 When he heard that, while a heart-piercing spasm 
 
 Seized on his lungs, he caught him by the foot, 
 
 Close to the ancle-joint, and hurled him prone 
 
 Against a rock washed on both sides by sea; 780 
 
 And smashed the scull, and from the hair, with blood. 
 
 Dashed the brains out. Then the whole people cried 
 
 Horrorstruck, seeing him in agony, 
 
 And him stone-dead; and there was no man dared 
 
 To go and face him ; for he was convulsed, 
 
 Now falling down, now rearing himself up. 
 
 Crying and moaning, while the rocks around. 
 
 Both Locrian headlands and Euboean capes. 
 
 Sounded aloud- But when his vigour failed, 
 
 30 — 2 
 
3o8 SOPHOCLES 
 
 What with oft throwing himself upon the ground, 
 
 What with his cries and groanings, hapless one, 790 
 
 Cursing the ill-sorted bed, where by your side — 
 
 O wretch — he lay, and the alliance made 
 
 With CEneus, for the canker to his life 
 
 Which he had found it, then, casting a glance 
 
 Aside, out of the smoke that compassed him. 
 
 Me he beheld among a numerous host 
 
 Weeping, and looked toward me, and called my name ; 
 
 " Come here, boy ; do not shun my misery ; 
 
 Not even if you had to die with me ; 
 
 Carry me forth, and set me — best of all. 
 
 Where never mortal may set eyes on me ; 800 
 
 Or from this land, at least, if you have pity, 
 
 At once transport me, that I die not here." 
 
 We, when he gave these orders, carried him 
 
 On board, and hardly brought him here, to shore, 
 
 Convulsed and groaning. And immediately 
 
 You will behold him, living, or just dead. 
 
 Such designs, mother, and such deeds of yours 
 
 Against my father are detected ; which 
 
 May the Erinys and requiting Right 
 
 Avenge on you ! — if the prayer be not sin ; 
 
 And sin it is not; since you made it sinless, 810 
 
 When the best man of all on earth, like whom 
 
 Another you shall never see, you murdered ! 
 
 I Lady 
 
 Why do you move off mute? Do you not know 
 Your silence pleads upon the accuser's side? 
 
 Exit Deianira. 
 Hyllus 
 
 Let her move off! Let fair winds go with her. 
 Far as she goes, out of my sight, for good ! 
 For why respect the assumption of a name, 
 Merely, of mother — all unmotherly 
 As she has been ? Let her depart and welcome ! 
 
TRACHlNIAE 369 
 
 And may those same delights which she centers 
 Upon my father come to be her own ! 820 
 
 Exit. 
 Chorus 
 I. 1. 
 
 Look, children, in what sense 
 
 The heaven-sent voice, of the ancient prescience. 
 
 Bursts on us all at once, which prophesied, 
 
 When the full months of the twelfth harvest-tide 
 
 Should have run out, they should conclude his line 
 
 Of Labours, to the son of Jove divine! 
 
 And this it wafts right on, safely to shore; 
 
 For how could one who sees the light no more 
 
 Yet be the slave 
 
 Of labours, in the grave? 830 
 
 L v.. 
 
 For seeing how Destiny, 
 
 Armed with the Centaur's bloody mystery, 
 
 Framer of treasons, is anoiling him, 
 
 A venom, too, being slaked into each. limb 
 
 Fathered by Death, born of a serpent's hiss. 
 
 How shall he see one sunrise after this? 
 
 Round him what Hydra-shape most hideous clings! 
 
 What swart-maned monster's murderous guileful stings. 
 
 Fevering the vein, 
 
 Mingle, to work his bane! 840 
 
 IL .. 
 
 While she, poor soul, who could perceive 
 
 Harm to the house, monstrous, without reprieve, 
 
 In this new bridal's hastening speed. 
 
 Of these woes some, indeed. 
 
 Never inflicted; others, that were planned 
 
 To fatal issues by a foreign mind. 
 How does she mourn whose was the death-giving hand! 
 How does she weep soft dews of womanly tears ! 
 But in the impending fate plainly appears 
 
 Mischief huge, and cunningly designed. 850 
 
 n. ;. 
 
 A fountain of tears has broken bound; 
 A plague — O misery ! is diffused around. 
 Such as before no suffering 
 On our magnificent king 
 
5ib SOPHOCLES 
 
 Came, even from foes, to do him injury. 
 
 O thou black lance, foremost of battle-spears, 
 It was thy point from towering CEchaly 
 Conducted hitherward a hurrying bride; 
 But Cypris, who in silence walked beside. 
 
 Causer of this now manifest appears. 860 
 
 1 Lady 
 
 Am I deceived? or do I hear some voice 
 Of lamentation through the house, new-raised? 
 What do I say? 
 
 2 Lady 
 There is a cry not undistinguishable 
 Indoors, yea, a sad wailing ; and the abode 
 Has something new to shew us. 
 
 1 Lady 
 
 Look at her, 
 How strange toward us, and with gathered brows, 
 The beldam speeds, to signify some tale. 870 
 
 Enter Nurse. 
 
 Nurse 
 O maidens dear ! 
 
 How has that gift we sent to Hercules 
 Been the beginning of great woes to us ! 
 
 I Lady 
 O mother, of what new deed have you to tell us ? 
 
 Nurse 
 The latest of all journeyings Deianire 
 Has taken ; a journey without stirring. 
 
 I Lady 
 
 What, 
 You do not say she is dead? 
 
 Nurse 
 
 You have heard all. 
 
TRACHINIAS. 3ti 
 
 I Lady 
 She has died, unhappy ! 
 
 Nurse 
 Yes, I say again. 
 
 I Lady 
 Death-boding wretch ! How do you say she died ? 
 
 Nurse 
 Most desperately, for the way of it. 
 
 I Lady 
 Tell us what sort of death she met with, woman. 880 
 
 Nurse 
 Herself she slew. 
 
 I Lady 
 
 What wrath — what frenzy-fit 
 Could grasp the steel, the harming weapon 1 How 
 Could she contrive, singly, and execute 
 Death — upon death i 
 
 Nurse 
 Through the sword's woeful cleaving. 
 
 I Lady 
 O dolt, did you look on at this rash deed ? 
 
 Nurse 
 Ves, I looked on ; for I was standing by her. 
 
 I Lady 
 Who was it — how — quick, tell us — 
 
 Nurse 
 
 She herself, 
 Of her own self, set her own ha7id to do it. 
 
 I Lady 
 What say you i 
 
312 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Nurse 
 South. 
 
 I Lady 
 
 Unto this house is born 
 A giant Fury — born of this new bride ! 
 
 Nurse 
 
 Too true, indeed. But far more vehemently, 
 Had you been by to witness what she did, 
 Would you have pitied her. 
 
 I Lady 
 
 Could woman's hand 
 Bear to accomplish this? 
 
 Nurse 
 
 Yes, ruthlessly. 
 But you shall hear, that you may bear me out. 
 After she came into the house, alone, 900 
 
 And saw her son spreading in the vestibule 
 An easy litter, to return with it 
 And meet his father, first she hid herself 
 Where none might see her; knelt before the hearth. 
 And mourned that she had been left desolate; 
 And wept at touching any household gear 
 That she was wont to use, poor thing, before ; 
 And to and fro ranging about the palace, 
 If any of her own servants met her view. 
 She wept, poor miserable, to gaze on them; 
 To her own self chiding her destiny, gio 
 
 And state, that must be childless evermore. 
 When she left this, suddenly I saw her dart 
 Into the bed-chamber of Heracles; 
 And I kept watch, close hidden in the shade. 
 Spying unobserved ; and saw the womaii fling 
 Bed-clothes, spread out, upon his bed. This done, 
 She sprang up into it, and so sat her down 
 Among the pillows; then, forcing a way 
 
TRACHINIAE 313 
 
 For the warm fountains of her tears, she said — 
 
 " O bed and bower that are mine, henceforth 920 
 
 Never again shall I lie down to rest 
 
 In your embrace ; farewell for evermore ! " 
 
 Thus much she spake; and with unflinching hand 
 
 Undid her dress, which had a golden brooch 
 
 To fasten across her bosom; and laid bare 
 
 All her left arm and side. I ran at once. 
 
 As fast as I was able, and told her son 
 
 What she was doing; and within the time 
 
 That we were running thither and back again, 
 
 We found she had been stricken in the side 930 
 
 With a sharp-pointed weapon, towards the heart. 
 
 And the youth saw it, and shrieked; for well he knew — 
 
 Wretch— that his wrath had brought this thing to pass, 
 
 Having been told, too late, by those within. 
 
 How at the Centaur's word she did the deed. 
 
 Not purposely; and the poor boy since then 
 
 Has not ceased wailing, crying around her body. 
 
 Stooping to kiss her ! Side by side with her 
 
 Has he been lying prostrate, moaning loud, 
 
 How with vile blame, falsely, he had smitten her, 940 
 
 Mourning that he would be bereaved for life 
 
 Of her and of his father, both at once. 
 
 So is it in this house; wherefore, if any 
 
 Count on two days, or any more, to come. 
 
 He is a fool ; for a man has no morrow, 
 
 Till by good luck he has got through to-day. 
 
 Chorus 
 I. I. 
 
 Which shall I mourn for first? 
 Which of my griefs is the worst? 
 Woe is me ! 'Twere hard to select. 
 
 I. 1. 
 
 One is at hand, here within ; 950 
 
 Another about to begin : 
 
 And 'tis all one— have or expect. 
 
314 SOPHOCLES 
 
 11. 1. 
 
 I would that some home-breeze, some favouring gale, would blow, 
 And waft me far from the spot, that I might not die with woe 
 Suddenly, merely at seeing the son of Jove, the strong, 
 Now that in anguish past all cure he is borne along 
 
 Home— as they tell ; 960 
 
 Portent unspeakable ! 
 
 n. 2. 
 
 Oh near and not far off is the sorrow at which I cry, 
 Shrill as a nightingale ! for without, strange steps draw nigh, 
 Bringing him — whither now ? Noiseless and slow they come ; 
 Tenderly, as a friend, they bear him. He is dumb ! 
 
 What shall be said? 
 
 Is he asleep, or dead? 970 
 
 Enter Hyllus, an Old Man, and attendants, carrying 
 Heracles. 
 
 Hyllus 
 
 Woe's me for thee, father ! Woe's me for thee ! 
 
 Alack, what shall I do? 
 
 What shall I turn me to? 
 O woe is me ! 
 
 Old Man 
 
 Hush, child, lest you excite 
 Fierce anguish in your father's frenzied breast ; 
 He lives, but barely. Keep your lips compressed ; 
 
 Set your teeth tight. 
 
 Hyllus 
 What do you say, old man? Does he live still? 
 
 Old Man 
 
 See that you do not wake the slumberer, 
 
 Nor start nor stir 
 
 The dreadful spasm of suffering, O my child ! 980 
 
 Hyllus 
 
 But with an unapproachable weight of ill 
 My anguished spirit is wild. 
 
TRACHINIA^ 315 
 
 Heracles 
 
 Zeus ! In what land am I ? 
 
 Among what folk do I lie 
 
 Worn out with ceaseless pain ? 
 
 — Woe's me ! Again 
 
 The loathsome thing gnaws me. Alas, Alas ! 
 
 Old Man 
 
 Had you no inkling how far better it was 
 
 To hold your peace, and not to scatter, now, 
 
 The slumber from his eyelids and his brow? ggo 
 
 Hyllus 
 
 Only I cannot help it, when 1 see 
 This sight of misery ! 
 
 Heracles 
 
 O altar floor of Ceneum's heights, 
 What payment, for what sacred rites, 
 
 Hast thou bestowed on me ! 
 What hurt, what mischief hast thou done — 
 O Jove, to me, unhappy one ! 
 
 Would I had ceased to see, 
 Before mine eyes had ever viewed 
 This flower of madness unsubdued ! 1000 
 
 For what magician, 
 
 What physician, 
 
 Zeus apart, 
 
 Can heal this smart? 
 
 Prodigy which I should see 
 
 From far ofi', if such could be. 
 
 O let me — let me — let me rest 
 
 In my last last sleep oppressed ! 
 
 Why do you touch me? Where do you want to lay me? 
 
 You will slay me — will slay me ! 
 
 You have unset 
 
 What might be slumbering yet. 
 
 Alack, it has fastened on me ! It comes, it comes again ! loio 
 
 Where are you, O most faithless of Greeks, for whom, on the main 
 Oft, and all woodlands through, worn out with labour and pain. 
 Cleansing the ways, I went? And now, in my agony. 
 
3i6 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Flame or sword not one will afford to deliver me — 
 
 Alas! 
 
 Or will condescend to approach me, and separate 
 
 My head from life, which I hate ! 
 
 Old Man 
 
 Alcides' son, this is far too heavy a spell 
 
 For my sole strength to meet ; do you take hold as well. 
 Sound sight is yours, fitter to nurse, than I can supply. 
 
 Hyllus 
 
 1 lay hold. But neither with aid, nor alone, can I 1020 
 Make it painless for him to live. Such cures are given from on high. 
 
 Heracles 
 
 Son, where art thou? 
 On this side, this side now. 
 Raise me and hold by me. 
 Ah, Ah, thou Power ! It throbs, it throbs again, 
 The miserable, fierce, insurmountable pain, 1030 
 
 Slaying me utterly ! 
 Again, O Pallas, Pallas, this torment vexes me ! 
 
 boy, pity your father, and draw your sword, blame-free, 
 And strike me under the neck, and the aching pain assuage 
 Whereat your impious mother has filled my heart with rage ; 
 Whom may I yet behold, so perishing, even so, 
 
 As me she did destroy ! O friendly Hades ! O 1040 
 
 Brother of Jove 1 Send rest, send speedy rest in death ! 
 Stop my sad breath ! 
 
 I Lady 
 
 1 shudder, listening to the griefs, so great, 
 Wherewith, O friends, our king, so great, is harried. 
 
 Heracles 
 
 How many and how fierce and sore to tell 
 
 The labours I with body and hands have wrought ! 
 
 And such an one not even the Spouse of Jove 
 
 Set me, or the abhorred Eurystheus, ever. 
 
 As this, which CEneus' daughter crafty-faced 1050 
 
 Fitted upon my shoulders — the web-toil 
 
 Woven of the Furies, which is shattering me. 
 
 For plastered to my sides, it has gnawed off 
 
TRACHINIAE 317 
 
 The surface of my flesh, and settles in 
 
 And battens on the channels of the lungs, 
 
 And has already drained all my fresh life-blood, 
 
 And through my whole frame I am overthrown. 
 
 Worsted by this unthought-for fetterment ! 
 
 Treatment such as I never yet endured — 
 
 No, not from lances in the battle-field. 
 
 Or Giants' earthborn army, or Centaurs' might, 
 
 Or Grecian or barbarian, or all lands 1060 
 
 Which I, cleansing their borders, visited ; 
 
 But one sole woman — a female, not a male 
 
 By sex — weaponless — put an end to me. 
 
 O boy, now shew yourself my true-born son; 
 
 Set not the name of mother over mine ; 
 
 But with your own hands hale out of the house 
 
 And render her that bare you into mine. 
 
 That I may know whether you grieve to see 
 
 This form of mine abused, rather than hers 
 
 In justice punished. Up, my son, take courage ! 1070 
 
 Have pity on me, whom any men might pity. 
 
 Lying here moaning, weeping like a girl — 
 
 A thing which not one mortal could have said 
 
 That he had ever seen me do before; 
 
 Rather I would follow, uncomplaining still, 
 
 Where my hard fortunes led me. Now, alas, 
 
 FalKng from this, I have been proved a woman. 
 
 And now come near; stand by your father's side; 
 
 See under what infliction I thus suffer; 
 
 Here, I will shew you without coverings ; 
 
 Lo, behold all, a miserable frame ! 
 
 Mark me, poor wretch, how I am pitiable ! 1080 
 
 — O woe 1 Alas, ah me. 
 
 Again, once more, that racking fever pain 
 
 Right through my side ! The desperate gnawing plague 
 
 Will not release me from its harassing; 
 
 O Hades, king, receive me! O Jove's lightning, strike me! 
 
 Smite me, O king! Dart down thy thunderbolt. 
 
 Father, on me ! for once again it revels, 
 
 It has blossomed — it has burst forth. O hands — hands, 
 
3i8 SOPHOCLES 
 
 O back and breast, O shoulder-blades of mine, 1090 
 
 And have you come to this, who formerly 
 
 Beat down by force the lion-habitant 
 
 Of Nemea, the perilous beast and wild, 
 
 Fatal to herdsmen; and the water-snake 
 
 Of Lerna ; and the twy-form prancing host 
 
 Of Centaurs, insolent, unsocial, rude, 
 
 Rampant in might; and the Erymanthian boar; 
 
 And the infernal triple-headed hound 
 
 Of Hades, the resistless monster, whelp 
 
 Of the dread Basilisk ; and the Dragon-guard 
 
 Of golden apples, growing at the world's end? 1100 
 
 And countless other toils I tasted of. 
 
 And no man set up trophies over me ! 
 
 Now here I lie, with dislocated bones, 
 
 With lacerated flesh, by a dark mischief 
 
 Utterly cast away, unhappy ! I, 
 
 Named of a mother most illustrious, 
 
 Reputed son of Zeus, Lord of the stars ! 
 
 But be ye sure of this; though I be nothing, 
 
 Albeit I cannot move, even as I am. 
 
 Her who did this still I can overcome; 
 
 Let her come only, that she may be taught, 11 10 
 
 And have it to relate to all, how I, 
 
 Living and dying, punished wickedness ! 
 
 I Lady 
 Alas for Greece ! what mourning I perceive 
 Awaits her, if this hero is lost unto her ! 
 
 Hyllus 
 
 Since by vouchsafing silence you vouchsafed 
 
 Room, father, to reply — though you are sick. 
 
 Listen to me ; I shall demand of you 
 
 What 'tis but fair I meet with. Lend yourself 
 
 To what I say, not so incensed in spirit 
 
 As you are racked with pain; you cannot, else, 
 
 Learn your mistake, in that which you desire 
 
 To make you glad, and in what angers you. 
 
TRACHINIAE 319 
 
 Heracles 
 Say what you wish, and cease; for I, being sick,- 11 20 
 Understand nothing of your stale mystery. 
 
 Hyllus 
 I am come to tell you of my mother ; of 
 Her state; and how she erred unwittingly. 
 
 Heracles 
 
 villain, dare you breathe that mother's name. 
 Your father's murderess, in my ears again? 
 
 Hyllus 
 Her story is such as must not stay untold. 
 
 Heracles 
 No truly, seeing how she transgressed before. 
 
 Hyllus 
 Nor will you say so of her deeds to-day. 
 
 Heracles 
 Speak; but look to it, lest you be found perverse. 
 
 Hyllus 
 
 1 speak. She is dead. She is but now just slain. 11 30 
 
 Heracles 
 By whom? You tell me wonders, in my trouble. 
 
 Hyllus 
 By her own hand, none other. 
 
 Heracles 
 
 Woe is me ! 
 Ere, as was fit, she could be slain by me ! 
 
 Hyllus 
 Even your wrath would be turned, if you knew all. 
 
 Heracles 
 It is a strange tale. Tell it your own way. 
 
320 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Hyllus 
 Through the whole business she sinned, meaning well. 
 
 Heracles 
 Did she do well, villain, to slay your sire? 
 
 Hyllus 
 
 Nay, meaning, when she saw the bride within. 
 To administer a charm to win your love, 
 She was deceived. 
 
 Heracles 
 
 And what Trachinian was there 1140 
 So great a sorcerer? 
 
 Hyllus 
 
 Nessus long ago — 
 The Centaur — made her trust with such a charm 
 To impassion your desire. 
 
 Heracles 
 
 O miserable ! 
 I am lost, alas, I am undone, undone ! 
 Light is no more for me ! Well do I know. 
 Woe's me, in what extremity I stand ! 
 O son, thou hast no more a father ! Come, 
 Call hither all thy stock of brothers; call 
 The sad Alcmena, spouse of Jove in vain, 
 That ye may hear the latest oracle 
 Of all that have been given me to declare. 1150 
 
 Hyllus 
 Your mother is not here ; for some time past 
 She has dwelt at Tiryns, hard by the sea shore. 
 And of your sons she has taken some with her, 
 And rears them there herself; and some, you know, 
 Dwell in the town of Thebes ; but all of us, 
 Father, here present, hearken, and will obey. 
 If there is anything for us to do. 
 
TRACHINIAE 321 
 
 Heracles 
 Then listen : it is time for thee to shew 
 What sort of man thou art, who art called mine. 
 It was foretold me by my sire of old 
 That by no creature breathing I should die, 1160 
 
 But by some dweller in Hades, who was dead. 
 And so it is, this Centaur-monster, dead, 
 As Heaven foretold it, is the death of me. 
 Who am alive. And following upon this 
 I will disclose to you fresh oracles 
 Agreeing with the old, which I wrote down. 
 When I was come into the sacred grove 
 Of the earth-couching Sellian highland-men, 
 At my own father's many-tongued oak-tree. 
 Which at this present instant of my life 
 Said — my deliverance should be fulfilled 11 70 
 
 From my incumbent labours ; and I thought 
 I should do well; but it was nothing else. 
 Really, but death for me ; for to the dead 
 There comes no labour more. Therefore, my child. 
 Now these things come out clear, you must become 
 Once more my aider, and not tarry for 
 My voice to spur you on ; but of yourself 
 Yield, and assist me; recognizing it 
 For best of laws, a father to obey. 
 
 Hyllus 
 
 O father, I am terrified to embark 
 
 On such a quest; but I will do your pleasure. 1180 
 
 Heracles 
 
 First, place your hand in mine. 
 
 Hyllus 
 
 To what intent 
 Do you press this pledge upon me, all too far? 
 
 Heracles 
 Give it at once, and disobey me not 
 
 Y. a. 21 
 
322 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Hyllus 
 See, there it is ; I will gainsay you nothing. 
 
 Heracles 
 Swear by the head of Jove now, who begat me. 
 
 Hyllus 
 What to perform? — Am I to say this, too? 
 
 Heracles 
 To execute the deed I bid you do. 
 
 Hyllus 
 I swear it, and take Jove to witness. 
 
 Heracles 
 
 Pray 
 You may find punishment, if you transgress ! 
 
 Hyllus 
 I shall not find it; for I shall perform. 1190 
 
 Natheless I pray. 
 
 Heracles 
 
 Now, do you know Jove's peak, 
 On CEta's top? 
 
 Hyllus 
 
 Yes, I have often been 
 Up there to sacrifice. 
 
 Heracles 
 To that spot, now 
 In your own arms, and with what friends you choose. 
 You must take up my body; and lop much timber 
 Of the deep-rooted oak, and fell therewith 
 Much wild male-olive, and upon it cast 
 My body; and take a pine-wood torch, alight. 
 And burn it. And let no sob interfere 
 Of sorrowing; but without groan or tear, 1200 
 
 As you are mine, perform it. Else will I 
 In anger haunt you, even from beneath, 
 Yea, with a curse, for ever. 
 
TRACHINIAE 323 
 
 Hyllus 
 
 Father! Oh 
 What have you done to me ? What have you said ? 
 
 Heracles 
 What must be done. Otherwise claim, instead, 
 Some other sire — be called my son no more. 
 
 Hyllus 
 Woe's me again ! what do you call me to, 
 Father? to be your slayer and murderer? 
 
 Heracles 
 Not so ; but the one healer and physician 
 Whom I have left, of my calamities. 
 
 Hyllus 
 How can it heal, to set your body on fire? i 
 
 Heracles 
 Well, if you shrink from this, still, do the rest. 
 
 Hyllus 
 The pains will not be grudged of carrying you. 
 
 Heracles 
 Nor store of wood to burn, as I have said? 
 
 Hyllus 
 
 Nothing, save touching it with hands of mine; 
 All else I will perform ; I will not tire. 
 
 Heracles 
 
 Well, that is quite enough. But grant me, too, 
 Besides your other great ones, one small favour. 
 
 Hyllus 
 
 Even if very great, it shall be done. 
 
 Heracles 
 
 You know the maid, daughter of Eurytus? 
 
324 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Hyllus 
 You mean, as I conjecture, lole? 1220 
 
 Heracles 
 
 Right ! This is all I lay upon you, child. 
 When I am dead, as you are dutiful, 
 Think of your filial oath ; obey your sire ; 
 Make her your wife, and let no other man 
 Ever touch her, who has lain by my side. 
 Instead of you ; but undertake this marriage, 
 O boy, yourself Do it ! for in small things 
 To disobey me, and in great obey. 
 Spoils all your former bounty. 
 
 Hyllus 
 
 O my heart ! 
 To be incensed with a sick man is wicked; 1230 
 
 But who could bear to see him minded thus? 
 
 Heracles 
 
 You mutter, as if meaning to do nought 
 Of what I say ! 
 
 Hyllus 
 
 Why, who would take her, ever. 
 Who was the sole cause of my mother's death, 
 And more than that, of your being — as you are? 
 Who that was not infatuate could do it? 
 Father, 'twere better that I too were dead. 
 Than living, joined with my worst enemies ! 
 
 Heracles 
 
 It seems this fellow will not do me right 
 
 Now I am dying. But know, the curse of Heaven 
 
 Awaits you, if you disobey my words. T340 
 
 Hyllus 
 
 Alas, I fear you will be saying, soon. 
 You are in pain ! 
 
TRACHINIAE 325 
 
 Heracles 
 
 Yes — you are stirring me 
 From slumber of my torment. 
 
 Hyllus 
 
 Miserable ! 
 How utterly at a loss I am ! 
 
 Heracles 
 
 Because 
 You do not choose to mind your father's bidding. 
 
 Hyllus 
 
 But father, am I really to be taught 
 Impiety ? 
 
 Heracles 
 It is not impiety 
 To gratify my longing. 
 
 Hyllus 
 
 Do you bid me 
 To do it, and incur no guilt? 
 
 Heracles 
 
 I do. 
 I call the Gods to be my witnesses. 
 
 Hyllus 
 
 Well, then I will ; I will not turn away. 
 
 If I can tell the Gods it is your doing. 1250 
 
 Wicked I never can appear, my sire, 
 
 If I obey you. 
 
 Heracles 
 
 You are right at last. 
 And add to these, my son, the boon of speed, 
 So that before some spasm, some frenzy happens. 
 You may deposit me upon the pyre. 
 Come, hurry, uplift me. This is rest from woes — 
 The hero's life brought to its latest close. 
 
326 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Hyllus 
 Well father, since you order and compel it, 
 Nothing impedes our doing all this for you. 
 
 Heracles 
 
 Come, come along, 
 Ere yet again 
 They wake thy pain, 
 
 O stubborn heart! 1260 
 
 With bridle strong, 
 Of steel, of stone, 
 Silence each groan ; 
 Finish thy part 
 Rejoicingly, 
 Hard though it be. 
 
 Hyllus 
 
 Raise him, followers ; freely, now. 
 
 Pardon what I do, in me ; 
 Freely, too, in the Gods allow 
 
 Folly, for the things you see ; 
 Who though sires, though fathers named. 
 See such sufferings unashamed. 
 
 What is future, nobody knows; 1270 
 
 But what is present, full of woes 
 Is to us — to them disgrace, 
 Andi of the whole human race, 
 Cruellest to the man who bears 
 This extremity of cares. 
 
 Nor do thou, maiden, stay in the house ; 
 \Vho hast seen great deaths and marvellous. 
 And sufferings many and strange indeed. 
 And none of them, save what Zeus decreed. 
 
 Exeunt omiies. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 7. Read Skvov, with the MSS., not &t\ov. 
 
 17. " His bed." Wunder's alteration, roOSe for rija-Se, is rejected 
 by other editors ; but my rendering is within permissible limits, I think, 
 in either case. 
 
 31. The key to the interpretation of this passage is I think the 
 word irdvov, which is used in this play almost as a specific name for the 
 "labours" of Heracles. See 11. 170, 875. There is, further, in the 
 word SiadeSeyfidvri an allusion to the torch-race, or \a/j.Tra.5-ri<popia. 
 
 49. I have to acknowledge obligations in this line, and in 11. 80, 
 160, 201 and 233, to Professor Campbell's spirited translation of this 
 play. 
 
 84. The line thus numbered in Dindorfs text, and bracketed by 
 him, I have omitted. Either 84 or 85 is bound to go. 
 
 88 — 91. I follow Wunder in transposing these two couplets. On 
 any other hypothesis, one of them must be sacrificed. 
 
 94. I have never been able to persuade myself that afoXos, as an 
 epithet of night, here and in 1. 132, has wandered so far from its 
 Homeric meaning as to be equivalent to "star-spangled" or "twinkling 
 with stars." "With fleeting shadows" I should render it; and this 
 meaning is I think indicated by the poetry. On the other hand 
 ivapi^oijAva does seem to have parted with all meaning of "being 
 stripped" or "despoiled." 
 
 X 16. I can make no sense of this passage, in its general relation to 
 the context, if either Tpi<pei or aii^ei is taken to indicate any fortunate or 
 glorious result for the hero. The brighter side of the picture is intro- 
 duced by ctXXA in the next line. I follow Hermann's interpretation. 
 
 134. I follow Mr Pretor's rendering. 
 
 145. I have nowhere seen an explanation or emendation of this 
 passage which I can adopt with satisfaction. Inasmuch as the beauty 
 of it calls loudly for courage in a translator, I venture on a suggestion, 
 namely, to read airoO, "where it finds itself," instead of airov. 
 Professor Paley, as I find from Mr Pretor, has made the same proposal ; 
 but his interpretation does not, in my opinion, bring out the meaning. 
 
328 SOPHOCLES 
 
 The demonstrative force of roioicrSe is my key to the passage. She 
 points to the cattle-pastures, when the cows are feeding; they are 
 stationary, not like horses, which range. See 11. i88, 271, 529, and 
 compare the beautiful fragment, Tereus, 5 1 7. 
 
 214. I omit e^hv, with the MSS. 
 
 228. I follow the punctuation of the Poet. Sc. Gr , not that of 
 Dindorfs small edition. 
 
 238. " Meat-offerings," i. e. offerings of the fruits of earth, as in the 
 English version of the O. T. by King James's translators. The Victorian 
 translators have altered it to " meal offerings," which would not suit 
 this passage. 
 
 323. I follow the MSS. reading, hiolaa, and adopt Mr Pretor's 
 interpretation. 
 
 327. tii\v(iMv may possibly be a mere epithet, a reminiscence of 
 the Homeric -tivifiaiaaav. But Sophocles seems to be fond of charging 
 his epithets with meaning, even when he adapts them from Homer. 
 Compare t/mtitols ijxS.(n, in £/. 747. The order of the words, and a 
 comparison of iroXvipBopo!, 1. 477, make for this interpretation. — For 
 Tvxv, meaning the way in which things happen, see 1. 724. 
 
 339. I have rejected Dindorfs punctuation, here and in 1. 444. 
 
 383. Point is given to this apparently trivial piece of moralizing, if 
 we compare Deianira's language in 1. 596, and the assent of the 
 Chorus. See also 1. 691. 
 
 554. I read Ix^'i and reject Dindorfs punctuation. 
 
 603. Read t6pSc y edvtpij^ not ravavfpTJ, as Dindorf. 
 
 638. " The Grecian States " — their Assemblies, that is, or Parlia- 
 ments ; aydpai in the Greek.' 
 
 652. I read olarpriSeis, not eu (TTpioSeU, or aC ffrpudeh, as Dindorf. 
 I adopt Professor Paley's proposal to substitute Eros for Ares. This 
 makes it belter to take Deianira, not Heracles, as the subject of 
 i^4\vcr€, and to construe the verb as an aorist with present signification. 
 
 715. Dindorf reads x^^'^^P i" ^^^ small edition, X'^*''rep in Poet. 
 Sc. Gr. I follow the latter, with the MSS. 
 
 720. 6p,u3 seems here to have the derivative meaning of an instant 
 of time. The English and Latin word "moment" has undergone the 
 same conversion. 
 
 728. " Not crabbed " is a temptmg equivalent for ir^Trcipa, but it is 
 perhaps hardly smooth enough for this context. 
 
 771. Some commentators change is to us, and alter the punctua- 
 
TRACHINIAE 329 
 
 tion, in order to avoid making Hyllus speak as if with knowledge that 
 the poison was that of the Hydra. There are however more places 
 than one, in this play, where an inconsistency of the sort is observable. 
 This interpretation seems to miss the force of the imperfect, iSalmro, 
 and of the emphatic 5^;, which follows. 
 
 809. The modern notion of "sin," it has been urged, was unknown 
 to a pagan Greek. This may be so ; and yet, it seems to me, the 
 opposite of sin is fairly well denoted by ffi/JLts. — irpoS^aXes I take in 
 its simplest sense, " attribuisti, " "thou didst place in my way." 
 
 844. irpos^dXKa, here and in 1. 580, I take in its simple meaning, 
 "contribute," or "throw in": throw, that is, either in addition to 
 something else, or on the top of some receiver. The Scholiast who 
 imagined that it could mean "paid attention to," or "comprehended," 
 seems to me to travel a long way round, and bring nothing home. 
 
 8-;4. Accepting the theory, that in this corrupt passage 'JlpaK\4ovs 
 is a gloss, representing some periphrasis for the hero, I think i,ydK\eiToi' 
 must be an epithet of him, and not of ttASos. — I have adopted Wunder's 
 emendation — alKljTai, for olKria-ai.. 
 
 1046. This speech has been well translated by Cicero. I follow 
 him, and the MSS., and not Dindorf, in reading Kcd \6yip kukA. 
 
 1091. I follow Professor Paley's rendering. 
 
 1266. This summing up of the moral of the story, as in the case of 
 Teucer's speech in the Ajax, it is impossible to reconcile, unless by 
 toning down the expressions, with the conventional piety sometimes 
 attributed to Sophocles; especially if we refer back to 1. 140. The 
 other aspect of the fate of Hercules is well stated at the conclusion of 
 the Philoctetes. 
 
 1275. I iea.d ill-' o'Ckuv. The MSS. reading has never, I think, been 
 satisfactorily explained. The "maiden" addressed is the Chorus- 
 leader, certainly not lole. 
 
PHILOCTETES 
 
PHILOCTETES 
 
 PERSONS REPRESENTED 
 
 Ulysses, prince of Ithaca. 
 
 Neoptolemus, the young prince of Scyros, son of Achilles. 
 PHILOCTETES, prince of Trachis, son of Pceas. 
 A scout attending on Neoptolemus, afterwards disguised as 
 the master of a trading vessel. 
 
 Heracles. 
 
 The Chorus is composed of Scyrian sailors, followers of 
 Neoptolemus. 
 
 Mate of the Scyrian crew; Attendants. 
 
PHILOCTETES 
 
 Scene, a desert place on the coast of Lemnos ; 
 in the background a cave. 
 
 Enter Ulysses, Neoptolemus, and Attendant. 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 This is the shore of Lemnos' sea-girt isle, 
 
 Untrod by mortals, uninhabited. 
 
 Where once, O scion of the first of Greeks, 
 
 Achilles' offspring, Neoptolemus, 
 
 Under commission from our generals 
 
 I set on shore the Mehan, Poeas' son, 
 
 His foot all bleeding with an ulcerous wound , 
 
 What time it was not possible for us 
 
 To set our hands in peace and quietness 
 
 To a drink-offering or burnt-sacrifice. 
 
 But ever with wild desecrating cries 
 
 He kept the whole encampment in distress, i 
 
 Groaning, lamenting. But why tell this tale? 
 
 It is no time for many words from us, 
 
 Lest he should learn of my arrival here. 
 
 And so the whole contrivance be upset 
 
 By which I think to take him presently. 
 
 Now you must work, and help to accomplish it ; 
 
 So look around, where in this neighbourhood 
 
 There is a grotto with two entrances, 
 
 So situate, that at one or other end 
 
 There is a sunny seat when it is cold, 
 
 While in the summer time a breeze sends sleep, 
 
 Blowing through the tunnelled chamber. And perhaps 
 
336 SOPHOCLES 
 
 A little underneath, on the left hand, 20 
 
 You may discover a fresh water-spring, 
 
 If it is still in being. Go up thither 
 
 Softly, and inform me if my words apply 
 
 To this same quarter, or if otherwise ; 
 
 Then I can tell you what remains to say, 
 
 And you can hear, and we can act together. 
 
 Neoptolemus ascending the rocks 
 
 The work you speak of. King Ulysses, lies 
 Not distant ; for I think I see a cave 
 Such as you mentioned. 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 High up, or low down ? 
 I cannot spy it. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Here, above us ; and 
 Here is a foot-print on the threshold ! 
 
 Ulvsses 
 
 Eh! 
 Take care that he is not asleep inside ! 30 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 The abode is empty, and the folk away. 
 
 Ulysses 
 Nor any household furniture within? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Yes, flattened leaves, as of some inmate's bed. 
 
 Ulysses 
 And the rest empty, and nothing under-roof? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Here is a cup cut out of wood, the work 
 Of a rude craftsman ; and a pair of flints, too. 
 
 Ulysses 
 What you exhibit is his treasure-heap ! 
 
PHILOCTETES 337 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Hilloa ! here are some rags as well, still warm, 
 Full of some pestilent unwholesomeness. 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 The man lives in these precincts, it is clear, 40 
 
 And cannot be far off. How could a man, 
 
 Lame with an old affliction in his limb. 
 
 Walk any distance? But he has gone out, 
 
 Either in quest of food, or of some herb. 
 
 If he knows any anodyne. Send therefore 
 
 Your follower to explore, lest he should take me 
 
 At unawares ; for he would like to get 
 
 Me, more than all the Argives, in his power. 
 
 Neoptolemus descending 
 
 He is going, and the track shall be secured. 
 
 Exit Attendant. 
 Now speak again, and say what is your pleasure. 
 
 Ulysses 
 Son of Achilles, you must shew yourself 50 
 
 Stout on this errand ; not in limbs alone, 
 But also in service — if you hear a thing 
 Novel, of a kind you have not heard before ; 
 Since you are here to serve. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 What are your orders? 
 
 Ulysses 
 You are to inveigle, by the words you utter, 
 The spirit of Philoctetes. When he asks 
 Who and whence are you, say — Achilles' son ; 
 This is not to be hidden; and you sail homeward, 
 Deserting from the Achaians' naval host. 
 Hating them with a mighty hatred; who. 
 Sending for you with prayers to come from home, 60 
 As their sole means of taking Ilium, 
 
338 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Thought it not meet to give you, when you came, 
 
 Achilles' armour, which you claimed of them. 
 
 But gave it to Ulysses in your room ; 
 
 Saying what you please of evil against me 
 
 The extremest of extreme. For by so doing 
 
 You will not hurt me ; but if you refuse 
 
 To do this duty, you will bring down trouble 
 
 On all the Argives. For if this man's arrows 
 
 Are not first captured, 'tis impossible 
 
 That you should vanquish the Dardanian hold. 
 
 Now, how that intercourse there cannot be 70 
 
 With him on my part, while on yours there can, 
 
 Both safe and solid, learn. You have made voyage 
 
 Not under oath to any, nor compelled. 
 
 Nor of the army that at first set sail ; 
 
 But nought of this can be denied of me; 
 
 Hence, if he sees me, shafts in hand, I perish. 
 
 And shall involve you with me in my ruin. 
 
 This is the thing to be devised, then ; how 
 
 You shall appropriate the unrivalled weapons. 
 
 Of course I know that it is not your nature 
 
 To say such things, or contrive injuries; 80 
 
 But, for 'tis sweet to get the gain of winning, 
 
 Dare ! In the end we shall be justified. 
 
 Now, for a day's short fragment, lend yourself 
 
 To ruthlessness ; and then to after-time 
 
 Be called the most religious of mankind ! 
 
 Neoptoi-fmus 
 
 The sort of things I chafe to hear prescribed, 
 
 Son of Laertes — these I hate to do; 
 
 'Tis not my nature to do aught by guile ; 
 
 Not mine, nor, as they say, his who begat me. 
 
 Ready I am to bring the man by force, no 
 
 And not by fraud. For he, lame of one foot, 
 
 Will not worst us at force, being so many. 
 
 Nevertheless, being sent to work with you, 
 
 I am averse to be called recreant; 
 
PHILOCTETES 339 
 
 But I prefer, sir king, rather to fail 
 In doing well, than to succeed by ill. 
 
 Ulysses 
 Son of an excellent father, I myself 
 Was youthful once, and had a backward tongue, 
 And an officious hand; but now through trial 
 I find the words and not the acts of men 
 Always prevailing. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Why, what else do you bid me 
 But say what's false? 100 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 I tell you by deceit 
 To capture Philoctetes. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Why by fraud 
 To bring him, rather than persuading him? 
 
 Ulysses 
 He cannot be persuaded ; and by force 
 You could not take him. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Has he some resource 
 Of strength so formidable? 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 Unerring darts. 
 Whose points are tipped with death. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 And is it not 
 Within a brave man's power to cope with him? 
 
 Ulysses 
 No, save by guile he take him, as I say. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Do you not think foul shame to tell a lie? 
 
 22 — -2 
 
340 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Ulysses 
 Not when my safety hangs upon the lie. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Why, with what face could a man blurt it out ? 
 
 Ulysses 
 You must not scruple, when you work for gain. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 What do I gain, if he should come to Troy? 
 
 Ulysses 
 Only these shafts take Troy. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 And am not I 
 The man to storm it, as was prophesied? 
 
 Ulysses 
 Not you apart from these, nor these fi-om you. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Well, I may have to seek them, that being so. 
 
 Ulysses 
 You will achieve two prizes, if you do it. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Which? If I knew them, I might not refuse. 
 
 Ulysses 
 To be called wise and valiant, both in one. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Go to, I'll do it, and let all shame go by. 
 
 Ulysses 
 Do you remember what I told you ? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Yes, 
 Rely on't ; I assented once for all. 
 
PHILOCTETES 341 
 
 Re-enter Attendant. 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 Do you remain then, and await him here ; 
 
 But I will hence, lest I should be espied, 
 
 And send your scout off to the ship again ; 
 
 Then, if I deem that you are wasting time, 
 
 I will send this same fellow back once more, 
 
 Disguised like a sea-captain in costume, 
 
 That he may not be known ; from whom, my son, 
 
 Gather, as he speaks craftily, whate'er 130 
 
 Has relevancy of his words. Meanwhile 
 
 I seek the vessel, and leave this to you ; 
 
 May Hermes the Conductor be our guide 
 
 In cunning, and the civic Victory, 
 
 Athana, who preserves me evermore. 
 
 Exeunt Ulysses and Attendant. 
 
 Enter Scyrian Sailors, as Chorus. 
 I. 1. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 What, O my master, what must I conceal — 
 A stranger on strange soil — or what reveal, 
 In presence of a man jealous of me? 
 Tell me : for his art passes other art, 
 
 And counsel other counsel, in whose hand 
 Is Jove's Olympian sceptre of command. 140 
 And now that upon thee 
 
 Is come, O son, all this time-honoured sway, 
 Say thou what part 
 
 In serving thee it is for me to play. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Now, for perhaps it pleases you to pry 
 In corners, for the spot where he may lie, 
 Use your eyes with freedom; but whenever 
 
 From these halls shall come a traveller grim 
 To my side step forward, and endeavour 
 To afford me help to cope with him. 
 
342 SOPHOCLES 
 
 I. 2. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Master, thou bid'st me heed, as I did heed, 150 
 
 To keep an eye on thy most urgent need; 
 Now tell me in what sort of habitation, 
 
 And in what quarter, he is wont to dwell ; 
 
 That I should know is not unreasonable. 
 
 Lest he from somewhere unexpectedly 
 
 Should light on me. 
 What is his beat, or what his usual station. 
 
 What errand he may now be going about. 
 
 Within doors or without. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Thou seesi this abode, tunnelled quite through. 
 Making a stony resting-place i 160 
 
 I SCYRIAN 
 
 And whither 
 Has the poor habitant betaken himself? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Tis plain to me that in his need of food 
 He is gone gleaning through this neighbourhood. 
 For they say it is his way of living. 
 
 Game to shoot with arrows from his bow, 
 And with grief of sickness ever grieving 
 Still to find no healer for his woe. 
 
 II. 1. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Poor, unfriended and alone. 
 
 Thee we pity, hapless one! i^o 
 
 Without friend to care for thee, 
 Without glance of sympathy, 
 Sick in frame, with sickness sore, 
 Driven to wander evermore 
 At the call of hunger, how — 
 How, ill-fated one, dost thou 
 Still sustain thy sinking heart? 
 O the wiJes of human art! 
 O unhappy tribes of man. 
 How do your woes exceed your vital span ! 
 
PHILOCTETES 343 
 
 II. .i. 
 
 He, perchance of no less worth 180 
 
 Than the men of elder birth, 
 Lingers on in life, illstarred, 
 Prostrate, of all friends debarred ; 
 Harbouring with the shaggy bear, 
 Or the pard with spotted hair ; 
 In disease, in want, forlorn. 
 By o'ermastering anguish worn; 
 Echo, too, in under tones 
 Answers to his bitter moans, 
 Borne along from far away 
 With insuppressive voice, knowing no stay. 190 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 None of these things are marvellous to me ; 
 For from above, if I know anything, 
 Those sufferings came upon him, by the hand 
 Of the hard-hearted Chrysa ; and what now 
 He bears of labours, far from comforters. 
 Cannot but be by some Gods providence. 
 For that he should not, in assault of Troy, 
 Draw to the head the unconquered bolts divine. 
 Before that hour shall come when, we are told. 
 It is Troy's fate to be subdued by them. 200 
 
 III. .. 
 
 Chorus 
 Hush, my son. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Why? 
 Chorus 
 
 A sound rose clear — 
 Sound of the cry of a wearied man. 
 This way, or that; I hear — I hear 
 The footfall's accents true 
 Creeping onward, as best it can; 
 
 The deep sigh, too. 
 Marking a soul bowed down with pain, 
 
 Though far off, scapes not me ; 
 For he mourns, plain 
 For all to see. 
 
344 SOPHOCLES 
 
 III. 2. 
 
 But, my son — ^'o 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 What? 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Bethink thee anew; 
 For the man is not far, but near, 
 Not, as a shepherd swain might do, 
 
 Piping a tune of merry cheer. 
 But either, stumbling, he cries perforce 
 
 With far-heard shout. 
 Or viewing the strange unwelcomed course 
 Of a ship to ground ; 
 For he sends out 
 
 A scaring sound. 
 
 Enter Philoctetes. 
 Philoctetes 
 Ho strangers, who are you, who have put in 220 
 
 With galley to this coast — sea without port, 
 Shore without shelter? Of what land or race 
 Am I to guess you ? for your garments' guise 
 Is Grecian — best beloved of all to me ; 
 And I would hear you speak. Be not struck dumb 
 With terror at the wildness of my looks ; 
 But pitying an unhappy man — alone — 
 Desolate thus and friendless in his wrongs, 
 If you are come in friendship, speak to me. 
 Give me some answer ! 'Twere unnatural 230 
 
 I should lack this from you, or you from me. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Sir stranger, know this first, we are of Greece ; 
 Since this you fain would learn. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 O sound most welcome ! 
 Ah what a thing it is to be addressed, 
 After long years, by such a man as you ! 
 
PHILOCTETES 345 
 
 What need, my son, caused you to put in hither — 
 To come this way? What impulse? Which of winds 
 Most friendly? Say all this to me, aloud, 
 That I may know your name. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 I am by birth 
 Of the isle of Scyros ; I am sailing home ; 240 
 
 My name's Neoptolemus, Achilles' son ; 
 Now you know all. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 O son of sire most dear — 
 Sprout from a friendly soil — the progeny 
 Of ancient Lycomedes, on what errand 
 Made you this land, from what port voyaging? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 From Ilium, truly, am I steering now. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 How say you? for you did not sail, I know. 
 With us at first, when we set out for Troy. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Why, were you partner in that enterprise ? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 O son, do you not know the man you look on? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 How should I know a man I never saw? 250 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Nor even my name, nor rumour of the ills 
 Which have destroyed me, did you ever hear? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Nothing of what you ask me do I know. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 O what a drudge and sport of Gods am I ! 
 Of whose hard fate no whisper ever came 
 
346 SOPHOCLES 
 
 To my own home, or any coast of Greece, 
 But they who thrust me out unrighteously 
 Laugh and keep silence, while my sickness ever 
 Grows on me and increases more and more. 
 
 boy ! O son, caUing Achilles sire, 260 
 
 1 am the man who, may be, thou hast heard 
 Was master of the arms of Hercules, 
 
 The son of Pceas, Philoctetes ! whom 
 
 The Captains twain and the Cephallenite king 
 
 Cast out thus shamefully — deserted — sick 
 
 Of a consuming wound — -pierced through and through 
 
 By the destroying viper's venomous fangs ; 
 
 And in this plight, boy, they exposed me here, 
 
 Left me, and went ! when from the Chrysean coast 
 
 They put in hither with their navy, straight, 270 
 
 Soon as they saw me sleeping on the beach. 
 
 Tired with long tossing, in a sheltered cave. 
 
 They laughed, they went, they left me ! casting me 
 
 A few mean rags, a beggar's garniture, 
 
 And some poor pittance, too, of nourishment, 
 
 Such as, I pray, be theirs I O then, my son, 
 
 What sort of waking, think you, from that sleep 
 
 Had I when they were gone ! How did I weep. 
 
 How did I wail, for my calamities ! 
 
 Seeing the ships which I was leader of 
 
 All gone away, and no man in the place 280 
 
 Who should suffice me, or should comfort me 
 
 In the disease of which I laboured; yea 
 
 Though I sought everywhere, nothing I found 
 
 Left to me, save my anguish; and, my son. 
 
 Of that no lack indeed ! Hour after hour 
 
 Passed by me; and I must needs make shift alone. 
 
 Under this scanty shelter. For my food, 
 
 This quiver sought out what supplied my need. 
 
 Hitting the doves on wing; then to the mark 
 
 Of the shot bolt I had to crawl, with pain, 290 
 
 Dragging a wounded foot. If upon this 
 
 I wanted to get anything to drink, 
 
 Or, as in winter when the hoar frost lay. 
 
PHILOCTETES 347 
 
 To break some sticks to burn, this, creeping forth, 
 
 I had to manage, in my misery. 
 
 Then there would be no fire ; but striking hard 
 
 With flint on flint I struck out painfully 
 
 An obscure spark, which keeps me still alive. 
 
 Thus shelter overhead, not without fire. 
 
 Furnishes all, save heahng of my sore. — 
 
 Come now and hear about the isle, my son ; 300 
 
 No sailor willingly approaches it; 
 
 For anchorage there is not, or a port 
 
 Whither a man might sail, and make his mart 
 
 By traffic, or find welcome; prudent men 
 
 Do not make voyage here. Some one, perhaps, 
 
 Might land against his will ; for these things often 
 
 Will happen in the long-drawn life of men ; 
 
 But such, my son, when they do come, in words 
 
 Pity me, and in compassion give me, say 
 
 Some morsel of food, or matter of attire ; 
 
 But that thing no man, when I hint it, will do — 310 
 
 Take me safe home; but this tenth year already 
 
 In hunger and distress I pine and perish, 
 
 Feeding the gnawing tooth of my disease. 
 
 The Atridae, and Ulysses' violence. 
 
 Have done me all this wrong ; the like of which, 
 
 boy, may the Olympian Gods give them 
 One day to suffer, in revenge for me ! 
 
 I SCYRIAN 
 
 1 feel I pity thee, O Poeas' son. 
 As much as any of thy visitors. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 And I myself, in witness to this tale. 
 
 Can swear 'tis true; for I have felt their malice — 320 
 
 The Atridas — and Ulysses' violence. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Have you a feud, too, with the villain sons 
 Of Atreus, and are furious at your griefs? 
 
348 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 I wish my hand could some day satisfy 
 The measure of my fury, that Mycenas 
 And Sparta both might know how Scyros also 
 Is mother of stout hearts ! 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Well said, my son ! 
 What do you charge them with ? what is the cause 
 Of your deep anger? why have you come hither? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 son of Poeas, I will tell you — yet 
 
 1 hardly shall know how — what injuries 330 
 They did me, when I came. After Fate brought 
 Achilles to his end — 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 O woe is me ! 
 Tell me no more, till I have learnt this first, 
 If Peleus' son is dead? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Yes, he is dead; 
 Killed by no man, but by a God ; subdued 
 By Phoebus, as they tell me; arrow-slain. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Well, noble was the slayer, and the slain. 
 O son, I know not whether I shall first 
 Explore your grievance, or lament for him. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Poor soul, I should have thought your own enough 
 For you to mourn, without your neighbours' troubles ! 340 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 You have said right; therefore begin once more 
 Your story of the way they injured you. 
 
PHILOCTETES 349 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 There came for me, in a fine painted vessel, 
 
 The great Ulysses, and the foster-sire 
 
 Of my own father, saying, (whether in sooth 
 
 Or, perhaps, feigning,) that it was forbidden, 
 
 Now that my sire had fallen, that any man 
 
 Other than I should storm the towers of Troy. 
 
 These things propounding, in this sort, sir friend. 
 
 They did not let me linger very long, 
 
 Before I straight embarked; urged most of all 
 
 By yearning for the dead, that I might see him 350 
 
 Before they buried him ; for I never saw him ; 
 
 And then the tale, no doubt, made for my honour. 
 
 That I should take the Towers, if I went. 
 
 Well, after two days' voyage I arrived 
 
 At black Sigeum, with a gale astern ; 
 
 And forthwith in a circle all the host 
 
 Hailed me as I stepped on shore; swearing they saw 
 
 The dead Achilles come to life again. 
 
 All the same, dead he lay; and I, poor fool. 
 
 When I had mourned him, after no long space, 360 
 
 Going to the Atridse, (friends, belike, of mine,) 
 
 Claimed my sire's arms and other property. 
 
 But they put forth — oh, a most pitiful tale ! 
 
 "O offspring of Achilles, all the rest 
 
 That was your father's you may take, and welcome ! 
 
 But those arms own another master now, 
 
 Laertes' son." I burst out weeping straight. 
 
 And stood up in deep wrath, and spoke with anguish; 
 
 "You villain, did you dare to give my arms 
 
 Without my leave to any man but me?" 370 
 
 Then said Ulysses, who was standing by, 
 
 "Yea my son, rightly have they given them. 
 
 For on a time he owed his life to me." 
 
 I, in a rage, straightway belaboured them 
 
 With all sorts of abuse, sparing for nought, 
 
 If that man was to snatch my arms from me ! 
 
 Who, being thus driven, although not choleric, 
 
35° SOPHOCLES 
 
 Cut to the heart at what he heard me say, 
 
 Retorted thus ; "You were not with us ! You 
 
 Were absent from your duty! and, though you talk 380 
 
 So bravely, you shall never sail with them 
 
 To Scyros !" After flouts and injuries 
 
 Of such a nature, I am steering home ; 
 
 Robbed by Ulysses, basest, and base-born, 
 
 Of what is mine. Still, him I do not blame 
 
 Like those in power. For a city all 
 
 Follows its leaders ; a whole host, the same ; 
 
 And men who are unruly become bad 
 
 By force of teaching. — All my tale is told. 
 
 May whosoever is the Atridse's foe 
 
 Be dear to Heaven, as he must be to me. 390 
 
 Chorus 
 
 O Mother, thou who gavest birth 
 To Zeus himself! Silvan Earth, 
 Who fillest all with bread; 
 Who dost control 
 The floods that roll 
 Over Pactolus' golden bed ; 
 On thee we cried, Mother adored, 
 When on this man was outpoured 
 All the Atridas's pride ; 
 What time they gave 
 Harness and glaive, 
 His father's — setting him aside : 
 Immortal Queen, thee we invoked, 400 
 
 Who behind thy lions yoked. 
 Slayers of the herd, dost ride ! 
 There was won 
 By Lartius' son , 
 Honour surpassing all beside. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Strangers, you seem to have sailed here to me 
 With a clear passport, in your injuries. 
 Not dissonant with mine ; I recognize 
 The Atridse's doings, and Ulysses' hand. 
 For I am certain he would have a voice 
 In every evil word and wickedness, 
 
PHILOCTETES 351 
 
 And that thereout he is not like to bring 
 
 Anything just to pass. I wonder, though, 
 
 Never at this — but that the greater Ajax, 410 
 
 If present, seeing it done, permitted it. . 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 He was no more, my friend ; had he been living, 
 I never should have been so plundered. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 How? 
 What did you say? Is he too dead and gone? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 He walks no more on earth. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 O woe is me ! 
 But not the son of Tydeus ! Not that son 
 Of Sisyphus, palmed on Laertes ! They 
 Will not have died ! Pity they were ever born ! 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Not they, you may be certain; they are now 
 Flourishing greatly in the Argive host. 420 
 
 Philoctetes 
 And what of him, old, valiant and my friend, 
 Nestor of Pylos? He was wont to avert 
 With wise advice the mischiefs of their hands. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Badly he fares, indeed; since he has lost 
 Antilochus, a son of his, by death. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Alas ! You tell me two calamities 
 
 In the same breath ! of two, who least of any 
 
 I could have wished to hear were dead ! Good lack, 
 
 What must we look to, when such men have perished, 
 
 The while Ulysses still survives ; whereas 
 
352 SOPHOCLES 
 
 He and not they, ought rather to have been 430 
 
 Reported slain ! 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 A clever gamester he. 
 But, Philoctetes ! even clever plans 
 Are sometimes hindered. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Tell me now, by Heaven, 
 Where did you leave Patroclus all this while, 
 Who was your father's darling? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 He had died, too. 
 And, in short compass I may say to you — 
 War never slays a bad man in its course, 
 But the good always ! 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 I can bear you out. 
 And while we talk of it, I will enquire 
 After a man — worthless indeed, but shrewd 
 And apt of speech — what is become of him. 440 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Who but Ulysses is it whom you mean ? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 I did not speak of him ; but there was one 
 Thersites, who was always trying to speak. 
 By no means only once — where none would have him ; 
 Know you if he still lives? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 I never saw him ; 
 But I did hear that he is yet alive. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 He may well be so ! Nothing ever died 
 That was pernicious; but the Deities 
 Foster it well ; yea, they delight to turn 
 
PHILOCTETES 353 
 
 All that is profligate and villanous 
 
 Backward from Hades, while the good and just 450 
 
 They speed on their way ever. In what light 
 
 Must we regard these things? how praise them? when 
 
 Praising things heavenly, I find faults in Heaven ! 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 I, O thou son of an CEtsean sire, 
 Shall take good care henceforward to survey 
 Ilium and the Atrid» from afar ; 
 And where the mean are mightier than the brave 
 And goodness withers, and the coward bears rule, 
 I never will approve such company ; 
 But rock-bound Scyros shall suffice for me 
 In future, and contentment with my home. 460 
 
 Now to my ship I go ; farewell to thee, 
 Thou son of Pceas ; may you fare right well ! 
 And may the Powers restore you from disease 
 According to your wish. Let us be going; 
 That whensoever Heaven vouchsafes us means 
 Of sailing, we may start. 
 
 Are you afoot ? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Already, son, 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Yes, we must time our voyage 
 By watching from hard by, not out of sight. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Now for your sire's, your mother's sake, O son. 
 
 And any dear one's whom you have at home, 
 
 Suppliant I beg, leave me not here alone, 470 
 
 Abandoned to such evils as you see, 
 
 And all you have heard I dwell in ! Stow me, say 
 
 For ballast ! The discomfort, well I know, 
 
 Is much, of my affliction ; bear it, though ! 
 
 To noble natures shame is odious; while 
 
 Kindness brings honour. And to you, my son, 
 
 Y. A. 23 
 
354 SOPHOCLES 
 
 There were foul shame in leaving this undone ; 
 
 But in the doing the fullest meed of praise, 
 
 Should I come living to the CEtaean land. 
 
 Come now, the trouble will not last a day; 480 
 
 Venture it ! Take me, throw me where you please, 
 
 Into the hold, into the bows, the stem, 
 
 Wherever I shall plague my mates the least ! 
 
 Consent, my son, yea by prayer-answering Jove ! 
 
 Hearken, I beseech you at your knees — although 
 
 A hapless wretch, being lame ; Ah, leave me not 
 
 Forsaken here, where is no trace of men ! 
 
 But either take me safe to your own dwelling. 
 
 Or to Chalcodon's homesteads, in Euboea; 
 
 And thence to CEta, and Cape Trachis, and 490 
 
 Sperchius' wide stream will not be far to go. 
 
 So shall you bring me to my father's arms. 
 
 For whom 'tis long that I have been afraid 
 
 He has already died; for oftentimes 
 
 By those who have come did I send to him, with prayers 
 
 That he would send and fetch me safe again ; 
 
 But either he is dead, or I suppose 
 
 My emissaries, as is natural, 
 
 Making small count of what was due to me. 
 
 Pushed on their voyage home. But now — for you 
 
 I come to as conductor, equally, 500 
 
 And messenger yourself — pity me, and save me ; 
 
 Seeing how all risks await us, and to fare 
 
 Well or not well, as it may chance for us. 
 
 And to his risks one that is trouble-free 
 
 Should look, and, when he lives at ease, then chiefly 
 
 Watch, lest his life be ruined unawares. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Have compassion, O my chief! 
 He has told of many a grief, 
 Many a painful care; 
 Such load of woes 
 May none of those 
 Whom I cherish have to bear ! 
 
PHILOCTETES 35S 
 
 But if, sir king, thou hatest thus 510 
 
 The bitter sons of Atreus, 
 Hear what my sentence is ; 
 Change the bane 
 Into gain, 
 Bane they meant, to gain of his ; 
 To the home he longed for so. 
 Swiftly embarking, let us go; 
 Our ship is tight and yare; 
 Thus would I 
 In safety fly 
 From the revenge the Gods prepare. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Take care you do not play at being kind 
 
 Now, but as soon as you are overwhelmed 520 
 
 By the proximity of his disease, 
 
 No longer seem the same, as you now promise. 
 
 I SCYRIAN 
 
 No fear of that. It is impossible 
 
 That you shall ever have this stone to cast, 
 
 With right, at me. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Truly and it were dishonour 
 That I should seem reluctant, more than you, 
 In labour for a stranger at his need. 
 Come then ; if you think fit, let us set sail. 
 Let him start quickly; for the ship shall take him, 
 And none shall say him nay. Heaven only guide us 
 Safe from this land, thither, where we would go ! 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 O day most happy ! O most welcome face ! 53° 
 
 O sailors dear! How shall I prove indeed 
 
 What debt of gratitude you lay on me ! 
 
 Let us be going, my son; first taking leave 
 
 Of the unhomelike home that is within. 
 
 That you may learn what sort of life I lived. 
 
 And what stout heart I kept. For I suppose 
 
 No other beside me, seeing the sight 
 
356 SOPHOCLES 
 
 With his eyes, merely, would have borne it all ; 
 While I was taught by long necessity 
 To be resigned to ills. 
 
 1 SCYRIAN 
 
 Stay, let us listen ; 
 Two persons, one a sailor from your ship, 540 
 
 And one a stranger, are approaching us; 
 Hear what they say before you go within. 
 
 Enter Attendant, disguised as a trading captain, and Mate. 
 
 Attendant 
 Son of Achilles, this your shipmate, who 
 With other two kept guard over your vessel, 
 I bade inform me in what place you tarried. 
 Since I have crossed you, not intending it, 
 But by chance, somehow, having come to moor 
 At the same ground. Sailing as shipmaster 
 With a small convoy home from Ilion 
 To Peparethus, famed for grape -clusters, 
 When I had heard the sailors, one and all, 
 Were of the crew that had embarked with you, 550 
 
 I thought it better not to hold my tongue. 
 Nor to make sail ere I had talked with you. 
 And been rewarded, as is fair. Perhaps 
 You have heard nothing of your own concerns — 
 The new designs the Argives have on you? 
 Nor mere designs, but deeds, now in the doing. 
 No longer idled over. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Truly, sir. 
 The merit of your forethought must secure 
 My gratitude, if I am no churl born. 
 But tell me what you mean ; that I may learn 
 What last new scheme you know of from the host. ^60 
 
 Attendant 
 Old Phoenix and the sons of Theseus 
 Are gone, with galleys, in pursuit of you. 
 
PHILOCTETES 357 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 To bring me back by parley, or perforce? 
 
 Attendant 
 I know not. What I heard I come to tell you. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Is it for the Atridse Phcenix and his mates 
 Are taking this in hand so hastily? 
 
 Attendant 
 
 Be sure 'tis doing, and that without delay. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 How was it Ulysses was not prompt to sail, 
 
 As his own post, in this? Did some fear stay him? 
 
 Attendant 
 He and the son of Tydeus were just starting 570 
 
 After another, when I put to sea. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Who could that be, for whom Ulysses' self 
 Would have embarked? 
 
 Attendant 
 
 Well, he said — somebody; 
 But tell me first, who is this personage ? 
 And do not speak out loud. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 This, stranger, is 
 The famous Philoctetes ! 
 
 Attendant 
 Then don't ask me 
 Anything more, but with what speed you may 
 Take yourself off, out of this land, and sail. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 What says he, boy? Why does the shipman talk 
 Aside to you, making his trade of me? 
 
35 8 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 I do not know as yet; what he would say 580 
 
 He must speak out to you, to these, and me. 
 
 Attendant 
 
 Seed of Achilles, do not tell of me, 
 For saying what I ought not, to the host; 
 Many are the friendly acts they do to me. 
 And I to them, such as a poor man may. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 I am the Atridse's enemy ; and he. 
 
 Hating the Atridse, is my greatest friend. 
 
 If, as you say, you came to do me good. 
 
 No word you have heard must you conceal from us. 
 
 Attendant 
 My son, mind what you are doing. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 So I do. 
 Attendant 
 I shall hold you accountable for this. 590 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Do, but say on. 
 
 Attendant 
 
 1 will. The two you wot of, 
 The son of Tydeus and Ulysses, sail 
 To arrest this man; and they have sworn an oath 
 To bring him, either by persuading him 
 With oratory, or else by dint of force. 
 So all the Achaians heard Ulysses say 
 Openly ; for he had full confidence. 
 More than the other, to accomplish it. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 And for what cause did the Atridse turn 
 At last so vehemently towards him 
 Whom all this while they had kept in banishment ? 600 
 
PHILOCTETES 359 
 
 What remorse reached them, or what Nemesis 
 And force divine, wrestling with wickedness? 
 
 Attendant 
 All this, for you perhaps have heard it not, 
 I will explain. There was a high-born seer, 
 A son of Priam's, Helenus by name, 
 Whom he we speak of, he we call — the knave — 
 By all disgraceful and vile epithets, 
 Ulysses — sallying forth by night, alone. 
 Captured, and bound ; and brought him, and displayed 
 Amidst the Achaian ranks, a splendid prize ! 
 Who gave them oracles of all beside, 6io 
 
 And that they never would be conquerors 
 Of Troia's towers, unless they could persuade 
 And bring this person from the island, here. 
 Where he dwells now. This when Laertes' son 
 Heard the seer say, he undertook forthwith 
 To fetch the man to the Achaians' presence ; 
 He rather thought, taking him willingly ; 
 But if reluctant, then against his will ; 
 Which if he failed of doing, he staked his head 
 To be cut off by any man who pleased ! 
 My son, you have heard all; my counsel is, 620 
 
 For you and him and any other man 
 For whom you have regard, to lose no time. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Me miserable ! Did he, the utter pest, 
 Swear to cajole and fetch me to the host? 
 I am as likely to come up to light, 
 When dead, from Hades, as his father did ! 
 
 Attendant 
 
 Of that I know not. Now to my ship I go. 
 To the best ends may Heaven attend you both ! 
 
 Exit. 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Is it not monstrous that Laertes' son 
 
 Should ever hope, boy, with soft soothing words 
 
36o SOPHOCLES 
 
 To take me, and to shew me from his vessel 
 
 To all the mob of Argives? He, than whom 630 
 
 I easier would hearken to the snake — 
 
 The abhorred snake, which has thus made me lame ! 
 
 But there is nothing which he will not say, 
 
 Nothing he dares not do 1 And now, I know 
 
 That he will come; well, my son, let us go; 
 
 So that the billows may divide us from 
 
 Ulysses' vessel, far! Let us depart; 
 
 A timely haste is the right means to afford 
 
 Sleep and refreshment when the toil is past. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Were it not well, when the head-wind shall cease. 
 Then to set sail? for it is adverse now. 640 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Winds are fair always, when you fly from harm. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Nay but this gale is adverse to them also ! 
 
 Philoctetes 
 There is no gale adverse to plunderers. 
 When robbery and rapine are in hand. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Well then, if it so please you, let us go ; 
 And take, out of your dwelling, anything 
 For which you have most use, and most desire. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Some things I need, though from a scanty store. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 What is there, which is not on board my vessel? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 A herb I have, with which I always lull 
 This ulcer best, and soothe the pain away. 650 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Well, bring it forth. What would you take beside? 
 
PHILOCTETES 361 
 
 Philoctetes 
 If any of my arrows have been dropped 
 Unheeded, that I should not leave them here 
 For any man to gather. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 What, are those 
 The famous bow and arrows in your hand? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 These which I carry. There are none beside them. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 May I look at them close, and handle them, 
 And do them worship, as a god? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Both this, 
 My son, and anything besides of mine 
 Is at your service, which may profit you. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 I have the longing; but no more than thus — 660 
 
 I would, an if I might ; if not, no matter. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Modestly spoken ! Yes my son, that may you, 
 You who alone have given me to behold 
 This light of day — to see the CEtaean soil — 
 My aged sire — my friends ! who set me up, 
 Being underneath, over my enemies ! 
 You shall have leave to touch them and give back 
 At pleasure; and to boast that, for your merit. 
 You only of mortals ever handled them. 
 'Twas in return for kindness I first got them. 670 
 
 I SCYRIAN 
 
 To see you, and to have you for a friend. 
 Pleases me well ; for he that knows the way 
 To return good for good, must be a friend 
 Better than all possessions. 
 
362 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Now go in. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 I will, and take you with me; for my ailment 
 Craves to have you for an auxiliary. 
 
 Exeunt Philoctetes and Neoptolemus. 
 
 Ckorus 
 I. I. 
 
 I have heard the tale that was told — 
 
 I did not behold — 
 What by Cronos' invincible son 
 
 To Ixion was done, 
 Who approached Jove's bed, whom he bound 
 
 To a wheel whirled round; 680 
 
 But I know of no other, by hearing or seeing, that is, 
 No mortal, tied to a loathlier fate than his. 
 Who for no violent deed, or stain of fraud on his name, 
 But being as good as the good are, perishes here in shame. 
 At this, too, I wonder. 
 
 How, listening to the shock 
 Of the surges' thunder 
 
 About his lonely rock. 
 Still, still he endured the continual cares and fears 
 
 Of a life, all tears! 690 
 
 I. i. 
 
 Where none but himself to greet — 
 
 No use of his feet — 
 Nor any neighbour he found, 
 
 Of the region round, 
 In whose compassionate ears 
 To bewail, with tears. 
 His raw deep-festering sore — who might stay the flood, 
 From the wounds of his raging foot, of the fevered blood. 
 With what soothing herbs, if any, to pluck from the teeming soil, 700 
 Appeared — for hither and thither, hobbling along with toil. 
 He would crawl, where healing 
 
 Might be found, for his journey's pain — 
 Like an infant feeling 
 
 For its nurse's arms in vain — 
 Whensoever the soul-consuming Fury's force 
 Had out-spent its course; 
 
PHILOCTETES 363 
 
 II. 1. 
 
 Raising no seed 
 Out of the hallowed lap of earth, for food ; 
 
 Nor aught beside of good, 
 Such as the cunning spirit achieves of men ; 
 
 But only now and then 710 
 
 What he might hit, with arrows from the string 
 Sped on swift wing 
 His appetite to feed. 
 Poor soul, that never in u ten years' space 
 
 Revelled in one full draught of wine outpoured. 
 But ever had to journey with set face 
 To any standing pool he had explored ! 
 
 II. ■,. 
 
 But met withal 
 Now by a child of warriors, his allies. 
 
 He shall at length arise, 7^0 
 
 Happy, out of woes, and magnified by them. 
 
 Who with sea-traversing stem, 
 The tale of many months being complete. 
 Conducts his feet 
 Back to his fathers' hall, 
 Where dwell the Meliad Nymphs — and to the banks 
 
 Of Sperchius; where, with fire of Heaven all-bright. 
 The brazen-shielded Hero joins the ranks 
 
 Of all the Gods, high o'er Mount CEta's height. 
 
 Enter Neoptolemus atid Philoctetes. 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Move forward, if you will. Why, without reason, 730 
 Are you so silent? Why stand thus aghast? 
 
 Eh, eh! 
 What is it? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Nothing serious. On, my son. 
 Neoptolemus 
 Are you in pain, from your unhealed disease? 
 
364 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 No, not at all ; I think 'tis better now. 
 
 Heavens ! 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Why do you groan, and call on Heaven? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 To come and save me, and be good to me. 
 Eh, eh! 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 What is the matter? Won't you tell me? 740 
 Must you be silent thus? You seem in pain. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 1 am ruined, my son, and shall not have the power 
 To hide my anguish from you. Well a day ! 
 
 It goes through me, it goes through me ! Woe is me ! 
 I am ruined, my son ; I am gnawed, my son. Alack, 
 Alack the day ! Alack, alack the day ! 
 For Heaven's sake, if you have a sword, my son, 
 Ready to hand, smite me upon the foot, 
 Cut it off quickly ! Spare not for my life ! 
 Quick, boy ! 750 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 What is it, suddenly arisen, 
 For which you moan so, and bewail yourself? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 You know, my son. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 What is it? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 You know, boy ! 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 What ? 
 I know not ! 
 
PHILOCTETES 365 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Haw, you know not ? Lack, alack-a-day ! 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Truly the stress is dreadful of your sickness. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Yes, dreadful beyond utterance ; pity me ! 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 What must I do? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Do not betray me, in terror; 
 For it is come, after an interval, 
 By winding ways ; the very same, it seems. 
 As it was gorged before. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Alas, poor wretch — 
 Wretch that you seem, truly, for all your troubles ! 760 
 Would you I should touch you, and take hold of you? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Not that, by any means; but take this bow, 
 
 As you were asking me but now, and keep 
 
 And guard it, till this spasm of my disease, 
 
 Now present, slackens. For sleep seizes me 
 
 After this agony has run its course; 
 
 It cannot end before; but you must leave me 
 
 To sleep in quiet. And if in the meanwhile 
 
 Those men arrive, I charge you in Heaven's name, 770 
 
 That neither freely nor against your will, 
 
 Nor any how, you suffer them to get it ; 
 
 Lest you become the slayer of your own self, 
 
 And of me too, who am your supplicant. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Take heart; so far as care can hinder, it 
 Shall not be given, save to yourself and me. 
 Hand it to me, and luck go with it! 
 
366 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Philoctetes giving the bow and arrows 
 
 Here, 
 Take it, my son ; but adore, first, the Power 
 Whose name is Jealousy ; so may it prove 
 To thee not baneful, as it was to me, 
 And him, who was its owner ere my time. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Heaven grant it so to us ! and grant us, too, 
 
 A favourable and swift passage thither, 780 
 
 Where God ordains, and whither we are bound. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Ah but I fear, my son, your prayers are vain ; 
 For here again is trickling the red blood, 
 Welling up from within, and I expect 
 Some change. — Alack, fie on it ! Alack again. 
 My foot, how you will hurt me ! It grows upon me ; 
 It comes on close. O wretched that I am ! 
 You know the worst ; pray do not go away ! 
 O well-a-day ! 790 
 
 Thou man of Cephallenia, would this pang 
 Could grip thy breast, right through thee ! Fie, alack ! 
 Alack once more ! O you two generals, 
 Agamemnon and Menelaus, would that you 
 Might have this plague to bear, instead of me. 
 As long a time as I ! O me, woe's me ! 
 O Death, kind Death, how is it that always called. 
 Thus, every day, thou canst not ever come? 
 O youth, good youth, good now, take hold of me. 
 And burn me in that thrice welcome Lemnian flame, 800 
 As on a time unto Jove's offspring I, 
 Earning those weapons, which you carry now, 
 Thought it no sin to do ! What say you, son ? 
 What do you say? 
 Why are you silent? What are you about? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Why, I was sighing with grief, at your distress. 
 
PHILOCTETES 367 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Nay my son, all the same, do not lose courage ; 
 For it comes sharply, and goes away with speed. 
 Only I entreat, do not abandon me ! 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Fear not, we will remain. 810 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Will you remain? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Be assured I will. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 I do not think it meet 
 To put you on your oath, my son. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Why no ; 
 Since I may not arrive without you ! 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Reach 
 Your hand, for pledge. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 I pledge it, to remain. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Yonder now, yonder — 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Whither say you? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Above — 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 What do you rave of now ? Why do you stare 
 At the orb above us? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Let me, let me go. 
 
368 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Let you go — whither? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Let me be awhile. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Leave hold I will not. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 You will kill me, if 
 You touch me ! 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 I quit hold then, if indeed 
 You have some better notion. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Take me, Earth, 
 D5dng as I am ! for my infirmity 
 
 No longer lets me keep myself upright. 820 
 
 Throws himself on the ground. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 It seems he will be fast asleep, ere long ; 
 For see, his head sinks backward. How the sweat 
 Stands over all his frame ! and a black vein 
 Has opened on the surface of his foot, 
 Discharging blood. Well, let us leave him, friends, 
 In quietness, till he has fallen asleep. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Sleep, thou that know'st not pain, 
 
 That know'st not care, 
 Blest and twice blest again, 
 
 Come, with soft air! 
 Keep from his eyes this light, 8^0 
 
 Which overspreads our sight 
 Now, of the noonday bright; 
 
 Come, saviour fair ! 
 
PHILOCTETES 369 
 
 I SCYRIAN 
 Look, my son; where standest thou? 
 
 How wilt thou proceed? 
 What shall be thy study now? 
 
 Dost thou see, and heed? 
 Wherefore are we lingering? 
 Time, that settles everything, 
 To our very feet doth bring 
 
 Power for all our need. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 He hears no sound, indeed; but this is plain, 
 For us to have his weapons is no gain, 840 
 
 Sailing without himself. Him God bade bring; 
 His is the garland ; and to boast in vain. 
 
 And lie, and fail, is a disgraceful thing. 
 
 Chorus 
 God will provide a way; 
 
 But as for thee. 
 Low, low, my son, convey 850 
 
 Thy words to me; 
 For to all souls that weep. 
 Stricken with sickness deep, 
 Their sleep, which is not sleep. 
 
 Is quick to see. 
 
 2 SCYRIAN 
 Now, so far as thou hast power. 
 
 Stealthily, my son. 
 This examine, this explore. 
 
 How it shall be done: 
 For — thou knowest whom I would name — 
 If your counsels are the same, 
 There awaits you bale and blame 
 
 Your prudence cannot shun. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 The breeze blows fair, the breeze blows fair, my king; 
 
 And without help, and without sight 
 
 Stretched out he lies, as in the night, 
 
 (Sleep is good, in the warm sun-light,) 
 Powerless of hand and foot and everything ! 860 
 
 He sees not, looks not, answers not with speech. 
 
 More than the dead who are beneath at rest; 
 My son, so far as my poor thoughts can reach, 
 
 The toil that has no risk is best. 
 
 Y, A, 24 
 
37° SOPHOCLES 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Silence, keep calm, I tell you; for the man 
 Opens his eyes, and raises up his head. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 O daylight, that receivest me from sleep ! 
 
 sojourn unexpected of these strangers! 
 
 1 never could have boasted, O my son. 
 
 That you would bear to abide my sufferings, 870 
 
 With such compassion staying here at my side 
 
 To afford help. Not so complacently 
 
 Did the Atridae, our brave generals, 
 
 Bear to endure this plague ! but, son of mine. 
 
 For noble is your nature and your birth, 
 
 You, though oppressed with noise and noisomeness. 
 
 Made light of all these ills ! And now, my son, 
 
 Since of my torment there does seem to be 
 
 Some respite, some oblivion, raise me up 
 
 With your own hand ; set me upon my feet ; 
 
 So that, as soon as numbness gives me leave, 880 
 
 We may proceed on board, and straightway sail. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 I am right glad to see you beyond hope 
 
 Awake and still alive and without pain ; 
 
 For in the fit that was upon you here 
 
 Your symptoms were like those of a dead man. 
 
 But now stand up ; or if you choose it, these 
 
 Shall carry you ; for they will not grudge the trouble. 
 
 When you and I both choose to have it so. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 I thank you, son ; raise me, as you are minded ; 
 But let these be, lest they be overcome 890 
 
 Before they need, with noisomeness. Enough 
 The task for them, to Hve with me on board. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 So be it. But stand upright and take fast hold. 
 
PHILOCTETES 371 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Fear not. The old exercise will straighten me. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Alack! What next, in the world, am I to do? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 What is it, boy? what were you going to say? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 I do not know what way I ought to turn 
 My perplexed speech. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 But what perplexes you ? 
 Do not talk thus, my son ! 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Only already 
 I have gone too far to help it. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 It is not 900 
 
 The offence of my disease induces you 
 Now to refuse to take me in your crew ? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 All is offence, when any man forsakes 
 His proper self, to do what fits him not. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 But you, in aiding a good man, do nothing, 
 Say nothing, to bely your parentage. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 I shall be shamed. This is what weighs on me. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Never, by what you are doing ! What you say 
 Makes me afraid, 
 
 24 — 2 
 
372 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Heavens, what shall I do? 
 
 Must I be proved twice base, both hiding that 
 
 1 should not hide, and saying what is most shameful? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 If I am not a fool, this fellow seems 910 
 
 Like to betray me, leave me, and so set sail I 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Leave you ? Oh no ! Rather what weighs on me 
 Is that I am conveying you, to your sorrow ! 
 
 Philoctetes 
 What say you, son? I do not understand. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 I will hide nothing from you ; 'tis to Troy 
 You are to sail, to the Achaians, and 
 The Atridae's fleet. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Woe's me ! what did you say ? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Do not cry out, before you are informed — 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Informed ! of what ? What would you do to me ? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 First cure you of this disease, and afterwards, 
 Along with you, when I get there, storm Troy ! 920 
 
 Philoctetes 
 And do you really mean to do it ? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 'Tis ruled 
 By strong Necessity ; pray, be not angry ! 
 
PHILOCTETES 373 
 
 Philoctetes 
 I am undone, unhappy I I am betrayed ! 
 O stranger-guest, what hast thou done to me? — 
 Give back my bow at once ! 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 That cannot be ; 
 For justice and advantage both oblige me 
 To obey those in power. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 O thou fire ! 
 Thou universal horror ! Masterpiece 
 Abominable, of monstrous villainy ! 
 
 What hast thou done to me? How hast thou cheated me! 
 Art not ashamed, O rogue, to look at me 
 Thy supplicant, me thy petitioner? 930 
 
 Thou hast robbed me of my life, taking my bow. 
 Give it back, I beg thee ! Give it back, I pray ! 
 By our father's gods, son, do not take my life ! 
 Woe's me ! he does not even answer me ! 
 His look replies, he never will give it me I — 
 You bays, you promontories, O you haunts 
 Of mountain brutes, O cliffs precipitous. 
 To you — for other hearers have I none — 
 Present, my old familiars, I appeal — 
 See how Achilles' son is wronging me ! 940 
 
 Swearing to take me home, to Troy he drags me; 
 And pledging his right hand, he has obtained — 
 Relic of Jove-born Heracles — my bow. 
 Meaning in the Argives' sight to flourish it ; 
 Like some strong prisoner, by force he drags me. 
 And knows not he is killing a dead man, 
 A vapour's shadow, an unsubstantial shade ! 
 For in full strength he never had captured me. 
 Since even thus he had not, save by guile ; 
 But now, unhappy, I have been deceived. 
 What must I do? Nay, give it back to me; 
 Nay, even yet, be thy true self once more ; 950 
 
374 SOPMOCmS 
 
 What say'st thou ? Thou art dumb ! I am lost, unhappy ! 
 
 O double-portalled frontal of the rock, 
 
 Back, once again, I come and enter thee. 
 
 Bare, without means of life ; but I shall starve 
 
 Here, in the fields alone ; not killing now 
 
 Winged bird, or silvan quarry, with my bow. 
 
 But I myself, wretched, when I am dead, 
 
 Yielding a meal to things on which I fed. 
 
 Creatures I chased before will now chase me ; 
 
 And I shall pay for bloodshed with my blood. 
 
 By practice of a seeming innocent ! 960 
 
 O ma/st thou perish ! — not yet, until I know 
 
 Whether thou wilt repent, and change thy purpose ; 
 
 But if thou wilt not, evil be thine end ! 
 
 Enter Ulysses, behind. 
 
 I SCYRIAN 
 
 What shall we do ? For us to embark, sir king, 
 Or yield to this man's prayers, now lies with you. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 A strange compassion has come over me. 
 
 Not now at first, but some time since, for him. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Pity me, O boy, for Heaven's sake ! Publish not 
 Your own shame to the world, in cheating me ! 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 O what am I to do? Would I had never 
 Left Scyros ! These things are so hard for me. 970 
 
 Philoctetes 
 You are not vile ; but you have come, 'tis plain, 
 Primed with disgraceful teaching, from the vile. 
 Now take to other leaders, as is meet, 
 And give me up my weapons, and set sail. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 O men, what shall we do? 
 
PHILOCTETES 375 
 
 Ulysses advancing. 
 
 What are you doing? 
 You wicked knave ! Come back ! Give me that bow ! 
 
 Philoctetes 
 O who is this? Ulysses do I hear? 
 
 Ulysses 
 Yes, to be sure, Ulysses ; I am here. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 O, I am bought and sold ! I am undone ! 
 Then it was he who was my kidnapper, 
 Who robbed me of my weapons ! 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 Doubtless, I ; 980 
 
 None else ; that I avow. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Give back my bow, 
 Give it me, boy ! 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 That shall he never do, 
 Even if he would. Now, you must march with these. 
 Or they shall force you. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 They — by force — take me, 
 O vilest and most impudent of men ! 
 
 Ulysses 
 If you will not go freely. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 O thou soil 
 Of Lemnos ! O thou all-subduing flame 
 Lit by Hephaestus ! Is it to be borne, 
 That he should force me from your borders ? 
 
376 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 Zeus 
 It is, if you would know — Zeus, this land's master — 
 Zeus, who has willed these things. His servant I. 990 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Caitiff, what words dost thou devise to say? 
 Alleging Gods, thou makest thy gods liars ! 
 
 Ulysses 
 Not so, but faithful. You are bound to go. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 No. 
 
 Ulysses 
 Yes, I say; you must obey me, here. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Me miserable ! my father, it appears, 
 Gat me no freeman, but a bond-slave ! 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 Nay, 
 Peer of the best, with whom it is your fate 
 To storm Troy's walls, and to demolish them. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 No never, even in extremity. 
 While this firm steep of earth remains to me. 1000 
 
 Ulysses 
 What would you? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Leap head foremost off the rock. 
 From the top to the bottom, and dash out my brains ! 
 
 Ulysses 
 Seize him ! don't let him do it. 
 
 Philoctetes is seized. 
 Philoctetes 
 
 O you hands, 
 How are you abused, for lack of your old string, 
 
PItlLOCTETES 377 
 
 Made prisoners by this fellow ! Thou, whose thoughts 
 
 Are nowise wholesome, nowise generous, 
 
 How hast thou supplanted me ! How hast thou stalked me ! 
 
 Employing as a cover for thyself 
 
 This youth, unknown to me, unmeet for thee. 
 
 But meet, indeed, for me ; who nothing knew, loio 
 
 Save to perform what was commanded him. 
 
 And even now is manifestly distressed 
 
 At his own errors, and my sufferings. 
 
 But thy base soul, peering through crannies ever, 
 
 Well, although simple and without his will. 
 
 Instructed him in evil, to be wise. 
 
 And now thou think'st to bind and carry me, 
 
 Wretch ! from this beach, on which thou didst expose me 
 
 Friendless, forsaken, homeless, a dead corpse 
 
 Among the living. Ah, perdition on thee ! 
 
 Not seldom have I prayed that prayer for thee. 
 
 But — for the Gods allot me no good fortune — 1020 
 
 Thou livest to rejoice, and I to grieve 
 
 At this same thing, that amid many ills 
 
 I live, unhappy, laughed to scorn by thee. 
 
 And the two captains, sons of Atreus, 
 
 Of whom, in this, thou art the minister. 
 
 Yet thou through trickery and by force constrained 
 
 Did'st sail with them; while I, thrice miserable, 
 
 Who volunteered, and brought seven ships with me, 
 
 Dishonoured am cast out — by them, thou sayest — 
 
 They say by thee ! And now, why do you hale me ? 
 
 Why carry me away? To what end? Me, 
 
 Who nothing am, and am long dead, to you? 1030 
 
 Abhorred of Heaven ! How is it I am not now 
 
 Lame, and of evil savour? If I sail with you, 
 
 How will you manage to burn sacrifices 
 
 And pour libations any more to Heaven? 
 
 It was your pretext, in extruding me. 
 
 Perdition overwhelm you ! As it will. 
 
 If Gods love justice, for your wrongs to me. 
 
 And I am sure they do ; for never else 
 
 Would you have sailed after a beggar thus; 
 
378 SOPHOCLES 
 
 But some remorse on my account, from Heaven, 
 
 Goaded you on. But O my native land, 1040 
 
 And you, regarding Gods ! sooner or late, 
 
 If you have any pity left for me. 
 
 Grant vengeance, vengeance, vengeance on them all I 
 
 Miserable indeed I am ; but I should feel 
 
 Cured of my plague, if I could see their fall ! 
 
 I SCVRIAN 
 
 Ulysses, sorely angered is the man; 
 
 And sore the word which he has uttered here. 
 
 And unsubmissive to adversity. 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 I might say much in answer, had I time ; 
 
 Now, I am master of one thing to say : 
 
 Where such-an-one is needed, such am I ! 
 
 Where there is trial who is just, who brave, 1050 
 
 You would not find one worthier than I am. 
 
 Indeed by nature I am covetous 
 
 Of success everywhere ; but not with you ; 
 
 Now, willingly, I will give place to you ; 
 
 Yes, let him go ; do not keep hold of him ; 
 
 Let him stay here. We have no use for you, 
 
 Now we have got these arrows; for Teucer is 
 
 Among us, who has learnt this mystery ; 
 
 And I, too, think that I can draw the string 
 
 And point the arrow just as well as you. 
 
 What need of you, then ? To your heart's content 1060 
 
 Pace Lemnos up and down ! But let us go ; 
 
 And your own prize, it may be, shall confer 
 
 Honour on me, which was by rights your own. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 What shall I do? Alas, shall you be seen 
 Graced with my arms among the Argives? 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 Nay, 
 Make me no answer; I am going, I say. 
 
PHILOCTETES 379 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Seed of Achilles, will you go away 
 Thus? Shall I never hear your accents more? 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 Do you go forward. Never look at him, 
 
 Stout though you are, lest you should spoil our luck. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 sirs, shall I be left here desolate 1070 
 By you as well? Will not you pity me? 
 
 I SCYRIAN 
 
 Our captain is this youth ; all that he tells you, 
 That we say also. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 By Ulysses here 
 
 1 shall be told that I am pitiful ; 
 Nevertheless, if this man wishes it. 
 
 Until the crew have got the ship's gear ready, 
 And we have offered up our prayers to Heaven, 
 Tarry ; meantime, perhaps he may take thought 
 More kindly on us. We twain, for our part, hasten ; 
 Do you make haste to follow, when we call. 1080 
 
 Exeunt Ulysses and Neoptolemus. 
 
 I. I. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 O rock-hewn cavern hollowed high, 
 
 Sultry or icy-chill, 
 Not mine, alas, from thee to fly. 
 Not while I live; but though I die 
 
 Thou wilt be near me still. 
 O woe for me ! O wretched lair, 
 Filled to the full w^th my despair ! 
 What now shall be my day's supply? 
 
 Where shall I seek for store? 1090 
 
 O that the flutterers of the sky 
 Might whirl me through the whistling airl 
 
 I can endure no more. 
 
38o SOPHOCLES 
 
 Chorus ~ 
 
 Surely thyself, thyself would have it so, 
 
 O victim of the curse ! 
 Not from without, not from a stronger foe 
 
 Doth this mischance arise, 
 When, having it in thy power to be wise. 
 Thou turnest from the better lot to what is worse ! i loo 
 
 I. 1. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 O wretched — wretched and with pain 
 
 Oppressed, unhappy I, 
 Who, without hope to meet again 
 The face of man, must here remain 
 
 In the same place, and die ! 
 Woe — woe ! not adding to my store — 
 Not with my winged shafts, any more. 
 
 That flew so sure and strong, mo 
 
 But by dark words I could not scan 
 Foully beguiled ! O might the man 
 Who was the framer of this plan 
 
 Endure my woes as long! 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Destiny, destiny brought thee to this end. 
 
 Sent by the powers divine ; 
 Thou wert defrauded by no hand of mine; 
 
 Keep thou for others, friend, 
 Thy bitter boding curse, lest thou repel 1120 
 
 Friendship; for what thou art saying touches me as well. 
 
 II. 1. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Somewhere now, seated by the sea 
 
 Upon the foam-white strand. 
 He mocks at me — Ah woe is me ! 
 
 And tosses in his hand 
 That which procured me food before — 
 That, which no stranger ever bore. 
 
 O bow of mine, from hands of mine 
 
 Ravished — ^how pityingly. 
 Surely, thou must thy gaze incline — use 
 
 If thou hast sense — toward me, 
 The friend of Heracles of yore. 
 That shall not wield thee any more ! 
 
PHILOCTETES 381 
 
 Now thou art handled in my place 
 
 By a right cunning lord, 
 And viewest his deceits how base, 
 
 And him, the foe abhorred, 
 Who by his baseness brings to be 
 The thousand ills Jove planned for me. 
 
 Chorus 
 He acts a manly part 
 Who justifies whatever makes for gain, 11 40 
 
 And, while so doing, refrains to dart 
 A tongue of envy forth, to inflict pain. 
 Chosen out of many for the task, our king. 
 
 In following the behest 
 Of him you speak of, was accomplishing 
 Succour for all the rest. 
 
 II. 2. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Come hither you wild winged brood, 
 
 And tribes of fierce-eyed beasts. 
 Who on these mountains seek your food. 
 
 Whom this lone island feasts; 
 No longer scurry from my door; 
 I have lost the shafts I shot before. 1 1 50 
 
 Alas for my unhappy lot! 
 
 No longer need you fear; 
 Weak is the watch that guards this spot; 
 
 Now is your time ! Draw near. 
 Avenge you, glut you, freely dine 
 On this infected flesh of mine! 
 
 My breath of life is almost spent ; 
 
 Whence shall I get me bread? n6o 
 
 What mortal can find nourishment 
 
 Merely by breezes fed. 
 Without the power to touch a thing 
 That from the teeming earth may spring? 
 
 Chorus 
 If thou at all hold dear 
 The name of friend, prithee, in all good will 
 
 Suffer a comrade to draw near; 
 Learn, and learn well, 'tis not beyond thy skill 
 To drive away this worst of destinies. 
 
 So piteous to sustain. 
 So weak to endure the myriad miseries 
 That follow in its train, 
 
382 SOPHOCLES 
 
 III. 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Again, again 
 
 Thou dost remind me of mine ancient pain, 
 
 O best of all who have been here as yet I 11 7° 
 
 Ah, why would'st thou undo me? 
 
 Oh what hast thou done to me? 
 
 I SCYRIAN 
 Why say'st thou this? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Because thy hopes are set 
 On carrying me to that same Trojan land 
 Which I detest! 
 
 I SCYRIAN 
 Yea, for I think that best. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Begone at once! Leave me behind 1 
 
 I SCYRIAN 
 Welcome, right welcome to me is this command, 
 Which I right gladly obey. 
 Away, away. 
 Let us aboard, each to his place assigned. 1180 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 For God's sake, I adjure you, leave me not ! 
 Nay I beseech you ! 
 
 I SCYRIAN 
 Soft! 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 O strangers, stay, 
 In Heaven's name ! 
 
 I SCYRIAN 
 
 What 
 Criest thou? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Alas, destiny, destiny! 
 O foot, my foot, what shall I do with thee 
 In all my after life? O woe is nie! 
 O strangers, come, come back, come back again! iigo 
 
PHILOCTETES 383 
 
 I SCYRIAN 
 To do what — with intent 
 Other than that thou didst at first present? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Let it not give offence 
 That reeling under a tempestuous pain 
 I cry aloud, words without sense ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 I SCYRIAN 
 Come, poor sufferer, as we counsel thee. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Never, never, know it for certainty! 
 Not though he, whose hand 
 Wields the lightning brand, 
 With its meteor rays 
 Should set me all ablaze! 
 Down with Troy — with all 
 Those beneath its wall — 
 All who had the heart 
 To banish far apart 
 This limb — this foot of mine ! 
 But O my friends, incline 
 One prayer, but one, to grant ! 
 
 I SCYRIAN 
 What is it that you want? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Hand me, if you have it, here 
 A sword, an axe, or spear. 
 
 I SCYRIAN 
 What do you mean to do? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Cut body and limbs in two. 
 Death — death is my desire. 
 
 I SCYRIAN 
 Wherefore? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Seeking my sire. 
 
384 SOPHOCLES 
 
 I SCYRIAN 
 Where, on earth? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 In the grave. 
 For now no more, I know, 
 Lives he beneath the sun. — 
 O city, O native city. 
 How shall I see thee, I, the man they pity. 
 
 Who left thy sacred wave, 
 And went as aider to the Danaan foe? 
 — My days are done. 
 
 Retires. 
 
 I SCYRIAN 
 
 I should have been, by this, a good while since, 
 Arriving at my ship; had I not seen " 1220 
 
 Ulysses coming, and Achilles' son 
 Drawing nigh toward us. 
 
 Enter Ulysses and Neoptolemus. 
 
 Ulysses 
 Will you not declare 
 Upon what errand you are creeping back 
 Hastening so eagerly? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Yes, to undo 
 The wrong I did before. 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 Monstrous! What wrong? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 That at your word and the whole host's — 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 You did 
 A deed — of what kind, unbecoming you? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Catching a man by shameful frauds and tricks — 
 
PHILOCTETES 385 
 
 Ulysses 
 What man ? O Heavens ! have you some new design — 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 No, nothing new; to Pceas' offspring, though — 1230 
 
 Ulysses 
 What will you do? Truly I am afraid — 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 From whom I had these weapons, back once more — 
 Ulysses 
 
 Zeus, what will ypu say? You do not mean, 
 Surely, to give them ? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Yes, for shamefully 
 And against justice I got hold of them. 
 
 Ulysses 
 'Fore Heaven, do you say this to outrage me ? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 If to speak truth is outrage? 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 What is this, 
 Achilles' son? What have you said? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Desire you 
 
 1 should repeat the same words twice and thrice? 
 
 Ulysses 
 I should have wished to hear them not at all ! 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Be well assured, you have heard me out. 1240 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 There is — 
 
 There is a man shall stop your doing so. 
 
 y. A. 25 
 
386 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 What ! 
 
 Who is there who will stop my doing it? 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 All 
 The whole Achaian people, I for one. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Wise as you are, you utter nothing wise. 
 
 Ulysses 
 You neither say nor seek to do things wise. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 If acts are just, they are better than if wise. 
 
 Ulysses 
 How just — what by my counsels you obtained, 
 That to surrender back? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 The sin I sinned 
 To my own shame, I will essay to mend. 
 
 Ulysses 
 And in so doing not fear the Achaian host? 1250 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Being in the right, I quail not at your menace. 
 It is no force of yours which I obey, 
 Thus acting. 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 Not the Trojans, then, but you 
 Will I assail in fight ! 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Come what come may ! 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 See you this right hand fingering at the hilt? 
 
PHILOCTETES 387 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Ay? You will find me playing at that same game, 
 And ready, too ! 
 
 Ulysses 
 Nay, I will let you be. 
 Rather I will depart and tell the tale 
 To the whole army, which shall punish you. Retires. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 You are discreet ; and if you prove as wise 
 Always, perhaps you will escape scot-free — 1260 
 
 Thou son of Poeas, Philoctetes ! Ho ! 
 Come out, and leave this rock-built tenement ! 
 
 Philoctetes within. 
 
 What new alarm is thundering at my cave ? 
 
 What would you, sirs? Why do you call me forth? 
 
 Entering. 
 
 Ha, 'tis ill done ! Are you not come to add 
 Some heavy suffering to my sufferings? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Fear nothing; hear the words I am come to say. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 I am afraid; I trusted you before, 
 And through fair words fared foully. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Is it not 
 Within the bounds, that one may turn again? 1270 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Just such you were when you purloined my weapons. 
 In language honest, secretly my bane. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 But not so now. Still, I would hear from you 
 Whether you are minded to persist in staying, 
 Or to set sail with us. 
 
 25— z 
 
388 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Stop, speak no further; 
 For all that you can say will be in vain. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 So resolved are you ? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 As I say, and more so. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 I wish you would have hearkened to my words; 
 But if I am not speaking seasonably, 
 I have done. 1280 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Yes, all you say will be in vain ; 
 For you shall never find me favourable. 
 Who have by guile deprived me of my bow, 
 And after, come to give advice to me — 
 Offspring most vile, of a most worthy sire ! 
 Destruction seize you all! the Atridse first, 
 Next Lartius' son, and thee ! 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Curse us no more. 
 But come and take your weapons from my hand. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 What ? Am I being beguiled a second time ? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 The holy majesty of Jove most high 
 Bear witness — no ! 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 O sayer of sweetest things — 1290 
 
 If you speak truth ! 
 
 Neoptolemus giving the bow and arrows. 
 The deed shall testify. 
 Stretch out your hand, and repossess your weapons. 
 
PHILOCTETES 389 
 
 Ulysses advancing. 
 
 In the Atridae's name, and the whole host's, 
 That I forbid ! Be the Gods witnesses ! 
 
 PHILOCTETES 
 
 Whose voice — was it Ulysses' — that I heard, 
 My son? 
 
 Ulysses 
 
 Doubt it not ! and you see me ready 
 To pack you off, by force, to Troia's shores, 
 Whether Achilles' son chooses, or no. 
 
 PHILOCTETES 
 
 At your cost be it, unless this dart go wrong! 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Nay, by no means ! For Heaven's sake do not shoot ! 1300 
 
 PHILOCTETES 
 
 Let go my hand, dear boy, for Heaven's sake ! 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 No, 
 I will not. Exit Ulysses, 
 
 PHILOCTETES 
 
 Oh why did you frustrate me 
 In slaying an adversary and enemy 
 With my own shafts? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Because 'twere honourable 
 For neither you nor me. 
 
 PHILOCTETES 
 
 Of this, at least. 
 Be certain; that the army's foremost men, 
 The falsehood-mongers of the Achaian host, 
 Are brave at words, but cowards at the steel ! 
 
390 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 So be it. You have your bow, and need not, now. 
 Feel indignation or despite at me. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Yes, you have shewn the nature, O my child, 1310 
 
 From which you sprang; no son of Sisyphus, 
 But of Achilles, who was praised the most 
 Among the living, when he was alive, 
 And is, among the dead. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 It pleases me 
 That you should praise my father, and myself; 
 Still, hear what I would have you do for me; 
 There is necessity for men to endure 
 The fortunes given from Heaven ; but whosoe'er 
 Lies under voluntary miseries. 
 As you do, it is right that none on such 
 Should bestow pardon, or should pity them. 1320 
 
 But you are savage, and reject advice. 
 If a man warn you kindly; deeming him. 
 For very hate, an adversary and foe. 
 Yet I will speak, yea, and by Zeus I swear it ; 
 And know this well, and write it on your heart ; 
 I tell you, you are sick of this disease 
 By Heaven's decree, for coming near the guard 
 Who watches over the hypaethral close 
 Of Chrysa — the concealed snake-sentinel ; 
 And you shall never find a cure, be certain, 
 Of your sore malady, while the same sun 133° 
 
 Rises on this side and on that goes down, 
 Till of your own will you shall come to Troy, 
 And meet Asclepius' sons, who are in our ranks. 
 And so be lightened of your plague, and then 
 With these your arrows, and with me to aid, 
 Conquer the city's towers before them all ! 
 How do I know all this ? Why, I will tell you ; 
 There is a man of Troy prisoner to us, 
 
PHILOCTETES 391 
 
 Helenus, a seer of seers ; and he says plainly 
 
 That these things so must be ; and furthermore 
 
 That it is doomed, by the next harvest-time, 134° 
 
 All Troy should fall ; else, if he lies in this, 
 
 He is willing to pay forfeit by his death. 
 
 Now you know all, choose to agree with us ! 
 
 For honourable is the accruing gain, 
 
 If you, being singled out for the Greeks' champion. 
 
 At once put hand upon a cure, and gain 
 
 Praise in the highest, by the storm of Troy, 
 
 That city of many woes ! 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Detested life ! 
 Why dost thou hold me above ground, yet seeing. 
 And wilt not let me go down to the grave? 
 Alas, what shall I do? How can I be 1350 
 
 Deaf to his words, my friendly counsellor? 
 Am I to yield, then? How, an if I do, 
 Shall I go forth — wretch — in the face of day? 
 With whom shall I consort? How, O you eyes 
 That behold all things which encircle me, 
 Will you endure my having fellowship 
 With Atreus' offspring, who destroyed me? How 
 With the pernicious son of Lartius? 
 For it is not the pain of what is past 
 That galls me; but I fancy I foresee 
 What at their hands I needs must yet endure. 
 For those who have begotten evil deeds 1360 
 
 Of their own minds, are by their own minds trained 
 In all things else to evil. And in this 
 I am surprised at you; for it was right 
 That you yourself never should be going to Troy, 
 Nay, should keep me away ; and, for the men 
 Who wronged you, spoiling you of your father's treasure. 
 Who judged the unhappy Ajax not so worthy 
 Of your sire's weapons, as Ulysses — what ! 
 Will you join league with them, and force me to it? 
 Not so, my son ! but as you sware to me. 
 
392 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Carry me home, and stay in Scyros, and 
 
 Let them die miserably, in misery ! 
 
 So will you gain a twofold gratitude, 1370 
 
 From me and from my father, and not come, 
 
 Through helping villains, to resemble them. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 All that you say is fair ; still, I desire 
 That trusting to the Gods, and to my story, 
 You would consent to sail, and leave this land, 
 Under my friendly convoy. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 What, to Troy? 
 To the detested son of Atreus ? 
 With this unlucky foot? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Rather, to those 
 Who shall relieve you and this ulcerous limb 
 From torment, and redeem you from disease. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 O sayer of strange things, what words are these? 1380 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 What will end well, I know, for both of us. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 And in saying this have you no dread of Heaven ? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 What dread should a man have, of profiting? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Profit to me, or the Atridae? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 Why 
 To you; being friendly, and my advice the same. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Friendly, and want to give me to my foes? 
 
PHILOCTETES 393 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 sir, learn to be prudent, in your troubles. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 1 know you; you will ruin me, by your counsel. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 I shall not; but I say, you grow no wiser. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Do I not know the Atridae cast me out? 1390 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 But how if they will bring you safely back? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 To behold Troy ? Never, with my good will ! 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Then what is to be done, if I in talk 
 
 Cannot persuade you anything I say? 
 
 'Twere easiest I should cease from words, and you 
 
 Live on, as now, without deliverance. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 Leave me to suffer that which I must suffer. 
 But what you agreed, holding my hand, to do — 
 To send me home — this, my son, do, I pray you; 
 And do not hnger, or take further thought 1400 
 
 On Troy; Troy has made sorrow enough for me. ' 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 If you will, let us be going. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 O well said, at length ! 
 Neoptolemus 
 Lean on me as you are walking. 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Yea, with all my strength. 
 
394 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 But how shall I avoid the Greeks' anger? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Never care ! 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 What if they lay waste my country ? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 Shall not I be there ? 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 What assistance will you bring us ? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 
 With Heracles' bow — 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 How say you ? 
 
 Philoctetes 
 I will repulse them. 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 
 Kiss the ground, and go. 
 
 Enter Heracles, above. 
 Heracles 
 
 Nay, not yet ; first hear my precepts, 
 
 Child of Pceas ! It is thy privilege i^^io 
 
 Thou should'st list to Alcides' accents, 
 
 Thou should'st see him ! I come, forsaking 
 
 Seats ethereal, for thy benefit, 
 
 Merely to tell thee Jove's high counsel, 
 
 Merely to hinder 
 
 That mad course thou foUowest. Do thou 
 
 Give good heed to the words I say. — 
 
 And first I will inform thee of my fortunes, 
 How after all my labours past and done 
 
PHILOCTETES 395 
 
 I have attained to immortality, 1420 
 
 As thou may'st witness. And thyself, be sure, 
 
 Must go through this experience, and so make, 
 
 Out of thy labours, thy life glorious. 
 
 Go with this man to Troy; there first of all 
 
 Thou shalt be healed of pitiful disease, 
 
 And, chosen the first in prowess of the host, 
 
 Shalt deprive Paris, who was the primal cause 
 
 Of all these evils, with my shafts, of life. 
 
 And shalt take Troy, and gain the foremost prize 
 
 Of the whole host, and send unto thy halls 
 
 The booty, to thy father, Poeas, in 1430 
 
 Thy country, CEta's vale. And all the spoil 
 
 That host shall give thee, in acknowledgment 
 
 Of my bow's work, bring to my funeral pyre. 
 
 — You too, son of Achilles, I exhort ; 
 
 For neither have you power to capture Troy 
 
 Without his aid, nor he apart from you ; 
 
 But like two lions ranging side by side 
 
 Each be the other's guard. 
 
 To PHILOCTETES. 
 
 — Lo, I will send 
 Asclepius to Troy, to cure your sickness ; 
 For needs must Ilium yet a second time 
 Fall by my arrows. But remember well, 1440 
 
 When you lay waste the land, to have respect 
 Toward the Gods; for all things else to this 
 Stand second in the estimation of 
 Our Father, Jove. The praise of piety 
 Cleaves to a mortal in his hour of death, 
 Nor perishes, whether he die or live. 
 
 PHILOCTETES 
 
 utterer of a long-sought oracle. 
 
 Revealed, though late, to sight, unto thy precepts 
 
 1 will not be rebellious. 
 
396 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Neoptolemus 
 No, nor I. 
 
 Heracles 
 No longer, then, delay to accomplish them; 
 Time and the wind astern urge you to sail. 1450 
 
 Disappears. 
 
 Philoctetes 
 One greeting to the country, ere I go. 
 
 Farewell to the old familiar cave, 
 
 To the roaring bass of the breaking wave 
 
 And the Naiads of the dale ! 
 Where many => time my hair was wet, 
 Deep in the inmost nook beset, 
 
 Lashed by a southern gale ! 
 
 Where often the voice of my lament 
 
 Amid the storm was backward sent, 1460 
 
 Echoed from Hermes' brow; 
 O springs, with your liquid Lycian freight, 
 Never expecting a joy so great, 
 
 I leave you — I leave you now ! 
 
 Farewell to the sea-girt Lemnian land ! 
 Give us good convoy from the strand, 
 
 Where friendly counsels lead, 
 And the prevailing word of Doom, 
 And that all-mastering Power, by whom 
 
 These issues were decreed. 
 
 Chorus 
 All together on our way 
 
 Let us to the Sea Nymphs pray 1470 
 
 To prosper our return this day. 
 
 Exeunt omnes. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 ■22. I suppose ?xei irplts to mean "have relation to," and the subject 
 of the sentence, a, to be the description just given; which is not clearly 
 distinguished from the locality itself, the object of irpoaeKduiv, because 
 Ulysses is pretty sure he has hit the place. 
 
 ■rp. I adopt Bergk's excellent conjecture, otSei. 
 
 79. Dindorf s emendation, irai, seems no improvement. 
 
 no. I read XaKeo/, not XaXeiK. 
 
 178. lUrpioi, "moderate," that is to say in regard to misfortunes. 
 
 187. Sophocles has here coined a striking epithet, for which 
 Shakespeare supplies me with a substitute. Compare Milton's " inex- 
 pressive nuptial-song." 
 
 314, 321, 592. The word /3/o having come to mean "violence,'' 
 since Homer's time, when ^l-q only meant "might," Sophocles I think 
 uses it here in Homeric form, but with Attic meaning. Compare his 
 use of Homeric epithets. El. 746, Track. 327. 
 
 425. I do not follow Dindorf in adopting Hermann's correction, M 
 TapriVj ybvos, 
 
 431. The old English word "gamester," for a wrestler, exactly 
 expresses TraXaio-T^s in this context. 
 
 492. In following Pope, who shortens the quantity of Classical 
 proper names, whenever by so doing he can throw back an accent, 
 I believe that I am conforming to the genius of the English language. 
 But inasmuch as a contrary practice is now fashionable, I submit these 
 considerations ; first, Sperchius, with the i accented, makes a line 
 unreadable at sight by an English reader ; next Spercheios is a combina-' 
 tion of letters too exotic for use in English literature ; thirdly Spercheius 
 is neither Greek nor Enghsh. 
 
 631. Read o5 Baaaov, as Wunder. 
 
 642. Dindorf's change of ofc to olS' seems unnecessary. 
 
398 SOPHOCLES. 
 
 671. The ascription to the Chorus of this speech, the authenticity of 
 which, as a part of the speech of Philoctetes, or of Neoptolemus, has 
 been challenged, appears to me fully to meet any difficulty arising from 
 its inconsecutiveness. 
 
 692. I have followed the interpretation which, since Lessing, has 
 usually been assigned to Ka-Koy/dTova.. But I do not see how the word 
 can mean "a neighbour to his misfortunes"; and I trust a better 
 solution may hereafter be discovered. 
 
 758. I follow the MSS. reading, not Dindorf. 
 
 776. I have borrowed a turn of phrase in this line from Dean 
 Plumptre's translation. 
 
 827. I adopt Professor Campbell's suggestion for the distribution of 
 the stanzas of this Ode between the personages of the Chorus. 
 
 862. I follow the MSS. reading, not Dindorf. Similarly in the 
 next line, ifj.^. 
 
 940. This is one of those passages in which the Greek Aorist must 
 be translated by a Present. Another has been pointed out to me in 
 0. T. 1003. It is, of course, always better to avoid the English Per- 
 fect, if possible, in rendering a Greek Aorist. Compare 1. 1259. 
 
 1139. Read k6.k i^'qaaro ZeOs. 
 
 1363. There was plenty of opportunity, during the interlude 
 11. 676 — 7'29, for Neoptolemus to tell Philoctetes the particulars of the 
 death of Ajax. 
 
 1443. Bitr^jScio here is the praise of piety, like aperii 1. i4'jo. 
 ffvvBv^aKeiis "accompanies into the realm of Thanatos." 
 
 1455. KTiiros apaiiv is the same with ipaivuv KXafl^, Track. 207 ; 
 in English the " bass" voice of manhood. 
 
OEDIPUS COLONEUS 
 
OEDIPUS COLONEUS 
 
 PERSONS REPRESENTED 
 
 CEdipus. 
 
 Antigone , , . , 
 
 . J- his daughters. 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 j- his daugl 
 
 Theseus, king of Athens. 
 
 Creon. 
 
 POLYNICES, son to CEdipus. 
 
 A Stranger, an inhabitant of Colonus. 
 
 A Messenger, an Athenian attending on Theseus. 
 
 The Chorus is composed of citizens of Colonics. 
 Guards attending on Theseus and Creon. 
 An attendant following Ismene. 
 
 V. A. 
 
 26 
 
OEDIPUS COLONEUS 
 
 Scene, Colonus, before the Sacred Grove of the Erinyes. 
 
 Enter Qldipus and Antigone. 
 CEdipus 
 
 Antigone, child of a blind old man, 
 
 What lands are these, or what the folk, whose gates 
 
 We have attained ? Who shall receive to-day 
 
 With stinted alms the wanderer, QEdipus ? — 
 
 Asking but little ; than that little, still 
 
 Obtaining less ; and yet enough for me. 
 
 For my afflictions, and the weight of years, 
 
 And something more of my own dignity 
 
 Teach me contentment. If you see, my child, 
 
 Some resting-place, either by sacred grove lo 
 
 Or secular dwelling, stay me, and set me down, 
 
 That we may find out in what place we are ; 
 
 For strangers from inhabitants to learn 
 
 We are come hither ; and what we hear, to do. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Towers are there, O my father, CEdipus, 
 
 Covering a city, I perceive, afar; 
 
 This place, as I suppose, is consecrate ; 
 
 It blooms with laurel, olive, and the vine; 
 
 Thick-flying nightingales within it warble ; 
 
 Here stretch thy limbs, upon this rough-hewn stone; 20 
 
 For thou art aged, to have come so far. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Seat me, and guard me still ; for I am blind. 
 
 26—2 
 
404 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Antigone 
 I know — that is an old tale — tell not me. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Well, can you teach me whither we are come? 
 
 Antigone 
 To Athens, that I know ; but not the quarter. 
 
 CEdipus 
 So much we heard from every passenger. 
 
 Antigone 
 But shall I go and ask what place it is? 
 
 CEdipus 
 Why yes, my child; if it seems hospitable. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 yes, there are some dwellings. — There's no need, 
 
 1 think : for here's a man, I see, close to us. 30 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 What, moving, and approaching hitherward? 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Yes, here, I mean, at hand. Say what is needful; 
 This is the man. 
 
 Enter a Stranger, an inhabitant of Colonus. 
 CEdipus 
 
 Stranger, this maiden tells me 
 (Whose eyesight serves both for herself and me) 
 Of your approach, an apt intelligencer 
 Of things we cannot guess — 
 
 Stranger 
 
 Ere you ask further. 
 Come from that seat ; you trespass on a place 
 No foot may violate. 
 
OEDIPUS COLONEUS 405 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 What is the place? 
 To what God dedicated? 
 
 Stranger 
 
 It is kept 
 From touch or dwelling : the dread Goddesses 40 
 
 Inhabit it, daughters of Earth and Gloom. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Who? By what solemn name denominate 
 Might I invoke them? 
 
 Stranger 
 
 By the natives here 
 They would be called the All-seeing Favourers; 
 Other fit names elsewhere. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 May they receive 
 With mercy me, their supplicant; and I 
 From this land's harbour will go forth no more 1 
 
 Stranger 
 What does this mean? 
 
 CEdipus 
 'Tis my misfortunes' weird. 
 
 Stranger 
 
 Truly I dare not turn him out of it 
 Without the people — ^before telling them. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Stranger, in Heaven's name do not cheat me — me, 
 
 A wanderer — of the word I crave of you ! 50 
 
 Stranger 
 Explain, and I will never cheat you. 
 
4o6 SOPHOCLES 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 What 
 Is the ground called we have been treading on ? 
 
 Stranger 
 
 You shall hear all I know. First, the whole place is holy, 
 
 Inhabited by dread Poseido p ; next, 
 
 The Deity that brought fire abides in it, 
 
 Titan Prometheus ; and the spot you press 
 
 Is called the Brass-paved Causeway of this land — 
 
 The Athenian Rampart ; the adjoining farms 
 
 Boast that Colonus mounted on his horse 
 
 Stands their chief patron here; and the whole people 60 
 
 Are called by and in common bear his name. 
 
 These are the facts, sir stranger ; honoured not 
 
 In story, but more cherished on the spot. 
 
 OiDIPUS 
 
 Did you say any men lived hereabouts? 
 
 Stranger 
 Yes truly, and that they bear this Hero's name. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Have they a chief, or is it with the people 
 To give the law? 
 
 Stranger 
 
 These parts lie in the rule 
 Of the king of the City. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Who is he, whose word 
 And sceptre sway them ? 
 
 Stranger 
 
 Theseus is his name, 
 Old ^geus' son. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Would one of you go fetch him? 70 
 
OEDIPUS COLO NE US 40'/ 
 
 Stranger 
 What should one tell or move him to come here for? 
 
 CEdipus 
 Say, to gain much, by a small act of kindness. 
 
 Stranger 
 And Where's the service in a man that's blind ? 
 
 CEdipus 
 There will be eyes in all that I shall say. 
 
 Stranger 
 Come, this you may, sir, and without offence ; 
 (Since you are worshipful to look upon. 
 Saving God's hand;) stay there, where I first found you, 
 While I go tell this to the burghers round, 
 (Here, not in the city;) they will soon decide 
 If you shall tarry, or depart once more. 80 
 
 Exit. 
 CEdipus 
 My daughter, has the stranger gone away? 
 
 Antigone 
 Yes, he has gone. You may say anything 
 Securely, father j none; ar^ here but I. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Queens, with stern faces ! since of all this land 
 First in your sanctuary I seated me. 
 To Phoebus, as to me, be not unfriendly. 
 Who, prophesying of those many ills. 
 Spake of this respite for me at the last, 
 That coming in the end unto a land 
 Where I should find asylum, at the hands 
 Of awful Powers, and hospitality, 90 
 
 There I should round the goal of my life-sorrow, 
 There dwell, a blessing to my hosts — a curse 
 To those who sent me into banishment ; 
 And promised me a sign of this to come. 
 
4o8 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Earthquake — or thunder — or Jove's lightning, then. 
 Now I perceive it is from none but you, 
 The faithful omen that has wafted me 
 Through all my journeying hither to this grove. 
 Else I should never in my wayfaring 
 Have met you first so fitly — strangers, you, 
 To wine, as I am — or have taken seat loo 
 
 On this dread threshold, this ungraven stone. 
 Now therefore. Goddesses, bestow on me. 
 According to Apollo's oracles, 
 Some quick decease and finish of my life; 
 If I appear not still unperfected 
 In my continual servitude of toils, 
 
 The extremest mortals know. Come, you kind daughters 
 Of ancient Gloom ! Come, thou that bear'st the name 
 Of mightiest Pallas, Athens, first of cities. 
 Have pity upon this miserable ghost 
 Of what was CEdipus ! He is not now 
 Such as of old. no 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Hush ! there are people coming, 
 Elders in years, who note you, where you sit. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 I will be silent ; and do you conceal me 
 
 Apart within the grove, till I may learn 
 
 What language these men hold ; for in the knowledge 
 
 Prudence consists for what we have to do. 
 
 CEdipus and Antigone retire. 
 
 Enter Citizens of Colonus, as Chorus. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Look ! Who was it ? Where abides he ? 
 In what nook or corner hides he — 
 Of all men — of all mankind the most presuming? 120 
 
 Search about. Spy him, there ! 
 Seek him out everywhere. 
 A vagrant — some vagrant the grey-beard must have been, 
 
 None of our countrymen. 
 Otherwise he never would have dreamt of coming 
 
OEDIPUS CO LONE US 409 
 
 To the untrodden thicket of the Virgins here, 
 Of the mighty Powers, whom to name we fear, 
 
 Whose abode we pass unprying, 130 
 
 Without babble or loud crying, 
 
 Keeping mouth closely pent 
 
 Save on what is innocent. 
 
 Now, 'tis said, without dread 
 Some one has intruded on the sacred space; 
 
 I the bound searching round 
 Cannot yet alight upon his hiding place. 
 
 CEdipus advancing, with Antigone 
 
 I am the man ; for by the sound I see you, 
 As is the saying. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Hilloa ! hoa ! who is this, 140 
 
 Dreadful to see, dreadful to hear? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 I pray you, 
 Do not regard me as a trespasser — 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Averting Zeus ! who may this old man be ? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 One of a sort far other than the first 
 To be deemed happy, O you guardians 
 Over this land; I am myself the proof; 
 I should not, otherwise, be groping thus. 
 Led by another's eyesight, or, being great, 
 On slender moorings come to anchorage. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 O thine eyes ! thy blind eyes ! 
 
 Wert thou thus, as I surmise, 150 
 
 For sad life— for long life— equipped from life's beginning? 
 None the more, if so be, 
 Shalt thou score, spite of me, 
 On curses fresh curses, by sinning— yea, by sinning. 
 
 But that thou trespass not 
 On the grassy coverts of this hallowed spot. 
 
410 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Where the bowl of water by the herbage quaffed 
 Flows with mingled runnels of a sweetened draught — i6o 
 
 Beware, beware sirrah stranger ! 
 Get thee hence ! Avoid thy danger ! 
 
 (His long start costs me dear ;) 
 
 Thou tired vagabond, dost hear? 
 
 Though thou bring word or thing 
 Hither for debate, avoid the sacred glen ! 
 
 Passing where all may fare 
 Speak with freedom ; but refrain thee, until then ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 Daughter, what course is to be thought of, now ? 
 Antigone 
 
 My father, what the citizens observe 
 
 That should we also ; yield, in what we fnust. 
 
 And hearken. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Well, give 7ne a hand. 170 
 
 Antigone 
 
 You have it. 
 CEdipus 
 
 Sirs, let me meet no wrong, if I remove. 
 Trusting in you. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Never against thy will 
 Out of these sanctuaries, ancient sir. 
 Shall any drag thee. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Am I to proceed 1 
 
 I Citizen 
 Step forward, further ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 Further yet 'i 180 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Walk on, 
 Damsel, and guide his steps ; for you perceive. 
 
OEDIPUS COLONEUS \\x 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Follow, my father, follow in my train. 
 With feet all darkling. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Man of woes, endure. 
 Being as thou art, a stranger on strange soil, 
 To abhor whatever the City has held in hate, 
 And what She loves, to honour. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Come, my child. 
 Lead me where, stepping without sacrilege. 
 Something we may impart, something receive ; 190 
 
 I And let us not contend with fate. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Halt there I 
 No further bend thy steps, over that ramp 
 Of rock in front. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 What, thus? 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Yes, as you have it. 
 
 CEdipus 
 May I be seated? 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Yes, if you bend sideways, 
 And sit down low, just on the edge of the stone. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Father, this is my business ; gently take 
 One step with my step, and commit — 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Eh me! 
 Antigone 
 Thine aged frame into my friendly hand. 
 
412 SOPHOCLES 
 
 QiDiPUS seated 
 Ah, my misfortune! 
 
 1 Citizen 
 
 Man of woes, declare 
 (Now that thou hast complied) what was thy birth, 200 
 What wretched wanderer art thou, what the country 
 We are to know for thine. 
 
 (Edipus 
 
 Ah strangers, 
 I am an outcast ; but forbear, forbear — 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Why do you deprecate my question, sir? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Forbear, I say, to ask me what I am. 
 Nor seek nor question further. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Wherefore soi 
 
 CEdipus 
 Awful my birth. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Tell it 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 child — ah me, 
 What must I answer? 
 
 1 Citizen 
 
 Of what seed thou art 210 
 
 Of the father's side, sir, say. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Woe's me, my child. 
 What shall I do? 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Speak, for you walk upon 
 The very verge. 
 
OEDIPUS CO LONE US 413 
 
 CEdipus 
 / will; T have no refuge. 
 
 I Citizen 
 Ye are both long about it; make more speed! 
 
 CEdipus 
 Know ye of one from Laius — 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Ha, howl howl 
 CEdipus 
 And of the race of Labdacus — 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 O Jove I 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Miserable CEdipus? 
 
 I Citizen 
 And art thou he? 
 
 CEdipus 
 Have ye no fear at what I say — 
 Citizens 
 
 Ohl oh I 220 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Unhappy I 
 
 Citizens 
 
 Out, O out! 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Now, daughter. 
 What will become of us? 
 
 Citizens 
 Off, off 
 Out of the place! 
 
414 SOPHOCLES 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 And what you promised vie. 
 What will you make of that 2 
 
 Chorus 
 
 I The vengeance of Destiny visiteth none, 
 
 ■ To punish a man to whom ill was fore-done. 
 
 I Treason, by treason withstood, and surpassed. 
 
 Pays a man trouble, not favour, at last. 
 
 Now back with you, back ! You have sailing orders ! 
 
 Get out of this place ! Go forth from our borders ! 
 
 Bring to our gates no more evil fates! 230 
 
 Antigone 
 
 O kind strangers, 
 
 Though you brook not 
 The old man's presence, my father, here, 
 
 To what he did 
 
 (Though not with purpose) 
 Listening, lending an open ear. 
 Me, not the less, poor maid, I entreat, 
 Pity, O strangers, who fall at your feet — 
 Fall at your feet, for my father's sake only 
 With eyes unblasted facing your face. 
 Even as though born one of your race, 
 So mercy may light on the helpless and lonely! 
 On you, as on Heaven, we depend; reject not 
 The prayer of the poor, for grace we expect not. 
 By all you hold dear as your own heart's blood ! 250 
 
 By your brood ! By your bed ! By your need ! By your God I 
 You will find no man, searching with heed. 
 But he must follow, if God lead. 
 
 I Citizen 
 Daughter of CEdipus, both him and you, 
 Trust us, we pity alike, for your distress; 
 But, reverencing Heaven, we have no power 
 To go beyond what has been told you now. 
 
 CEdipus 
 What is the use of reputation, then, 
 Or what of good report, flowing all to nothing, 
 If it be said of Athens, that she is 
 
OEDIPUS CO LONE US 415 
 
 The most religious and the only state 1 
 
 Able to guard the stranger in distress, 
 And that she only can suffice his need, j 
 
 While you — to me — what have you done with it? 
 You, who dislodged me from these altar-steps, 260 
 
 And now, in fear merely of my name, expel me ; 
 For of my person it is not, or my deeds; 
 The deeds 1 did were suffered more than done — 
 If I might speak to you of that parentage, 
 For which, as well I know, you are scared at me. 
 And after all, where was my villany? 
 I but requited evil done to me; 
 So that, although I did it knowingly, 
 Not even then should I be proved a villain. 
 [But as it is, I went the way I went 
 Unwittingly; and suffered at the hands 
 Of those who knew that they were injuring me. 270 
 
 Wherefore in Heaven's name I beseech you, sirs, 
 Even as you raised me from my seat, now save me. 
 And do not, in your reverence for Gods, 
 Make nought of the Gods' dues ; rather consider 
 How that they mark the virtuous among men, 
 And mark the wicked too ; and that escape 
 Was never yet, of any man profane. 
 In whose assemblage tarnish not the lustre 
 Of Athens the august, lending your hand 
 To any act of profanation. No ! 
 
 As you received the supplicant, on your promise, 280 
 So rescue and preserve me ; and survey 
 These brows, of ill aspect, not without honour. 
 For holy and righteous am I, who come hither, 
 And I bring profit to these citizens ; 
 And when that lord arrives, who is your leader. 
 If you will hearken, I will tell you all ; 
 In the mean time see that you deal not falsely. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 We cannot help being disturbed, old man, 
 By the behest you give us ; which is couched 
 
41 6 SOPHOCLES 
 
 In words of no light weight. Sufficeth us 290 
 
 That the land's rulers should decide the case. 
 
 CEdipus 
 And where is he that rules this country, sirs? 
 
 I Citizen 
 He keeps his father's hold, here; but a post. 
 The same who sent me hither, is gone to fetch him. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Do you think he will have such respect or care 
 For the blind man, as to attend in person? 300 
 
 I Citizen 
 Ay truly, when he hears your name. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 But who 
 Is there to tell him that? 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 'Tis a long way; 
 But travellers' gossip often gets abroad. 
 Which when he hears, he will come, never fear. 
 For loudly to all ears has past your name; 
 Wherefore, old man, even though asleep and tired, 
 Hearing of you, he will make haste and come. 
 
 CEdipus 
 I wish he may, for his own city's good 
 And mine. For who does not befriend himself 
 By doing good? 
 
 Antigone 
 
 O Jove, what shall I say? 310 
 
 What shall I think, my father? 
 
 Antigone, my child? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 But what is it, 
 
OEDIPUS COLONEUS 417 
 
 Antigone 
 
 I see a woman 
 Coming toward us, mounted on a horse 
 Of ^tnean breed ; and a Thessalian bonnet 
 Is on her head, tied close about her face, 
 To screen it from the sun. What shall I say? 
 Is it — or not ? or do my thoughts mislead ? 
 Yes ! No ! I know not what to say. Alack, 
 It is no other. Yes, and she looks joyful 
 At spying me, as she draws near, and shews 320 
 
 It is no other than Ismene's self ! 
 
 (Edipus 
 How say you, child? 
 
 Antigone 
 Why, that I see your child, 
 My sister; yes, and you can hear her, straight. 
 
 Enter Ismene and attendant. 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 Father — and sister ! the two names to me 
 
 That are most dear ! How hardly have I found you, 
 
 And hardly can regard you now, for grief! 
 
 CEdipus 
 O child, are you come hither? 
 
 Ismene 
 
 O my father. 
 Hapless to look on ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 Are you here, my child ? 
 
 Ismene 
 After much trouble, yes. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Give me your hand, 330 
 
 My girl ! 
 
 Y. A. 27 
 
4i8 SOPHOCLES 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 I link you, both together. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 O 
 My child — and sister ! 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 Alas, our sorrows ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Hers 
 And mine? 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 Yes, and my own as well, unhappy ! 
 
 OCdipus 
 Why did you come, child? 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 Father, because of you. 
 
 CEdipus 
 You wanted me? 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 Yes, and to bring you news 
 In person, with my one true servant here. 
 
 CEdipus ' 
 And the young men your brothers, where have they 
 Bestowed their labour ? 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 They are — where they are ; 
 It is a heavy time with them, just now. 
 
 CEdipus 
 O how exactly fitted are that pair, 
 In character and training, for the ways 
 Followed in Egypt ! For the husbands there 
 Sit within walls and weave, the while their partners 340 
 Work out of doors, winning their daily food. 
 
OEDIPUS COLONEUS 419 
 
 Just so, my children, they who fittingly 
 
 Should bear this burden which you bear, like maidens 
 
 Keep house at home, while in their stead you two 
 
 Are toiling to relieve my miseries. 
 
 One, ever since she left her nursery 
 
 And grew to her full strength, in my train ever 
 
 Wanders in wretchedness, an old man's leader, 
 
 Through the wild forest often journeying 
 
 Foodless and footsore, toiling painfully 
 
 Often — in rain and the sun's sultriness, 350 
 
 Holding the comforts of her life at home 
 
 As nothing to the tending of her sire. 
 
 While you, my child, sallied out once before 
 
 Bringing your father all the oracles 
 
 That were delivered as concerning me. 
 
 Without the Cadmeans' knowledge, and became 
 
 My faithful watcher, when they banished me ; 
 
 And now again — what story are you come 
 
 To tell your father ? what dispatch, Ismene, 
 
 Transported you from home? for you are come 
 
 Not empty, at least ; of that I am assured ; 
 
 Nor without bringing me some cause for fear. 360 
 
 Ismene 
 
 As for the sufferings I endured, my father. 
 
 Seeking your lodging and abiding-place, 
 
 I will omit them ; for I do not care 
 
 To feel the pain twice over, in the travail. 
 
 And after, in the telling. But the ills ' 
 
 Now compassing your two unhappy sons — 
 
 These I have come to shew. For formerly 
 
 They were both eager that the sovereignty 
 
 Should pass to Creon, and the city, so, 
 
 Not be defiled ; professing to regard 
 
 The inveterate perdition of the race. 
 
 Such as had fastened on your woeful house; 370 
 
 But now some God, and an infatuate mind. 
 
 Has caused an evil struggle to arise 
 
 Between that pair, thrice miserable, to seize 
 
420 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Upon the government and royal power. 
 
 And now the lad, the younger of the twain, 
 
 Is robbing Polynices of the throne, 
 
 Who is his eldef^ and has driven him forth 
 
 Out of his native land. He, taking flight 
 
 (As is the general rumour in our ears) 
 
 To Argos in the Vale, is gaining there 
 
 New comrades and connexions to his side. 
 
 Swearing that Argos either shall forthwith 380 
 
 Humble the glory of the Cadmeans' land. 
 
 Or else, exalt it to the height of heaven. 
 
 Dear father, this is not a wordy tale; 
 
 'Tis dreadful fact ; and at what point the Gods 
 
 Mean to take pity upon your woes, I know not 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 And did you hope already that the Gods 
 Would have some care for my deliverance? 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 Yes, father, after this new oracle. 
 
 CEdipus 
 What is it? What has been revealed, my child? 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 That you shall be by the inhabitants 
 
 Sought to hereafter, for their safety's sake, 390 
 
 Whether in life or death. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 But who could profit 
 By such a wretch as I? 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 Their empire lies. 
 
 In you they say 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 What, now my life is finished, 
 Do I begin to live ? 
 
OEDIPUS COLONS US 421 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 'Tis the Gods, now, 
 Uplift you, who destroyed you formerly. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 To fall when young, and be set up when old. 
 Is poor exchange ! 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 And now because of this 
 You may expect that Creon will be here 
 Within no very distant period. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 What 
 To do, my daughter? Pray explain. 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 To place you 
 In the near neighbourhood of Theban soil. 
 So they may have you in their power, but you 
 Never intrude on the land's boundaries. 400 
 
 CEdipus 
 How are they helped by my lying at their doors? 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 Your being buried inauspiciously 
 Brings them disaster. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Even without a God 
 Might any judgment be convinced of that ! 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 Therefore they mean to fix you, so that you 
 Shall not be your own master, near their land. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Will they enshroud me in the dust of Thebes? 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 Father, they dare not, for the blood of kin. 
 
42 2 SOPHOCLES 
 
 CEdipus 
 Then they shall never get me in their power. 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 That will weigh heavy upon Thebes one day. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Under what circumstances, O my child? 410 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 Through wrath of yours, when they approach your grave. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Child — what you say — whom did you hear it from? 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 Envoys, returning from the Delphian shrine. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Is it Phoebus who has uttered this of me? 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 So say the comers to the Theban land. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Did either of my sons, then, hear of it? 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 Yes, both alike, and understood it well. 
 
 CEdipus 
 And did the varlets, when they heard it, still 
 Prefer the sceptre to their love for me? 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 I grieve to hear the question; all the same, 420 
 
 Such is my news. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Then may the Gods not quench 
 The fated strife between them, and the end 
 May it be for me to give them, of that battle 
 
OEDIPUS COLONEUS ^^l 
 
 On which they are set, levelHng their spear-points now ! 
 
 So neither shall that one of them abide 
 
 Who holds the sceptre now, and throne, nor he 
 
 Who has departed ever more return : 
 
 Who verily, when I who fathered them 
 
 Was thrust out of the land so shamefully. 
 
 Stayed not nor screened me ; but between them I 
 
 Was sent adrift, sentenced to banishment. 430 
 
 You may aver the city as of course 
 
 Granted me then, at my desire, this boon ; 
 
 Nay truly ! for upon that selfsame day 
 
 When my brain boiled, and to be stoned and die 
 
 Seemed sweetest, there was no one that stood up 
 
 To help me to my craving; but long after, 
 
 When all the trouble was no longer green, „, 
 
 And I perceived my passion had outstripped \ 
 
 The chastisement of my offences past, \ 
 
 Then was it that this happened ; then the city \ 440 
 
 Violently drave me from the land, at last ; 1 
 
 While they, their father's offspring, in whose power\ 
 
 It lay to help their father, would not do it, \ 
 
 But I have had to wander, out and on, \ 
 
 Thanks to the little word they would not say, \ 
 
 In beggary and exile. And from these. 
 
 Being maidens, all that nature lends to them. 
 
 Both sustenance and safety by the way. 
 
 Ay and familiar comfort, I receive; 
 
 While they preferred to their own father thrones 
 
 And sceptred rule and territorial sway. 
 
 But me for an ally they shall not gain ; 450 
 
 Nor ever from their Cadmean monarchy 
 
 Shall benefit flow to them; this I know. 
 
 Hearing the oracles which she now brings me, 
 
 And minding also the old prophecies 
 
 That I put forth, which Phoebus gave to me. 
 
 So now let them send Creon after me. 
 
 And every lusty catch-poll in their town; 
 
 For, gentlemen, if in the train of these. 
 
 The awful Powers who guard your village-ground. 
 
424 SOPHOCLES 
 
 You shall decide to summon up your force 
 
 In my behalf, then will you, for this city, 
 
 Procure a mighty saviour, and entail 
 
 Troubles on those, who are my enemies. 460 
 
 I Citizen 
 First, you have won our pity, CEdipus, 
 Both for yourself and for your daughters ; next. 
 Seeing that beside this pleading you propose 
 Yourself, to be a saviour for our land, 
 I am disposed to give you some good counsel. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Stand my friend, most kind sir ; and I will do 
 All that you bid me. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Come and institute 
 Rites of purgation to these deities 
 On whom you came and trespassed at the first. 
 
 CEdipus 
 After what fashion, sirs? instruct me. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 First 
 Bring holy water, for libations, from 
 The running stream; but let your hands be pure. 470 
 
 CEdipus 
 And after T have drawn the limpid wave? 
 
 I Citizen 
 Here are some bowls, an artist's handiwork; 
 Garland their rims and the two ear-handles. 
 
 CEdipus 
 With leaves or locks of wool, or in what fashion? 
 
 1 Citizen 
 Yes, with a fleece of a newborn ewe-lamb ; 
 Take it. 
 
OEDIPUS COLONEUS 425 
 
 CEdipus 
 So be it. And how must I conclude? 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Turn to the region where the dawn begins 
 And pour libations. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 From the vessels, here, 
 Of which you spake, am I to pour them ? 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Yes, 
 Three several pourings; and the last one drain. 
 
 QEdipus 
 
 And with what offering shall I fill it? Tell me 480 
 
 This also. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Honey and water; put no wine. 
 
 OiDIPUS 
 
 And when the earth's dark leaves have taken these? 
 I Citizen 
 
 Then strew upon it thrice nine olive-boughs 
 All round you; and then offer up this prayer. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Let me hear that ; for it is of most moment. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 That as we call them Favourers, they would deign 
 
 With favouring breasts to accept the supplicant, 
 
 And save him; pray yourself, or in your stead 
 
 Some other, speaking in an undertone. 
 
 Not so as to be heard. Then come away 
 
 And do not look behind you. This performed, 490 
 
 I will stand by you gladly; otherwise, 
 
 O stranger, I should have my fears for you, 
 
42 6 SOPHOCLES 
 
 CEdipus 
 Girls, do you hear these people of the place? 
 
 Antigone 
 We hear them well. Tell us what we must do. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 I cannot go; for neither have I strength 
 
 Nor eyesight for the work — two hindrances; 
 
 One of you two go and discharge this duty ; 
 
 For I suppose one person will suffice 
 
 For tens of thousands, with good will, to do it. 
 
 Make haste and set about it, anyhow ; 500 
 
 But do not leave me by myself alone ; 
 
 For in my frame there is not strength enough 
 
 To creep unaided, or without a guide. 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 Well, I will go and do it. But the place — 
 I want to know where I must look for it. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Lady, beyond this thicket. Anything 
 
 That you may need, there is one dwelling there 
 
 Who will inform you. 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 I will betake me to it. 
 
 Guard you our father here, Antigone. 
 
 We must not murmur at the labour, even 
 
 If we do labour, in a parent's cause. 
 
 Exit. 
 I. I. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Stranger! Tis cruel to awake again 510 
 
 The long since deadened pain; 
 And yet 1 fain would learn — 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 What is it, friend? 
 
OEDIPUS COLONEUS 427 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 The story of all that self-disclosed distress — 
 
 Pitiful, remediless — 
 
 Wherewith It was thy fortune to contend. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Nay do not, for your hospitality. 
 Open my ruthless wounds! 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 I long to know, 
 And to know right, that which is noised of thee 
 So widely, and so unremittingly. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Woe's me ! 
 
 I Citizen 
 Bear with me, I pray thee. 
 
 (Edipus 
 
 Woe, ah woe ! 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Hearken to my request ; 
 
 For I too hearken in all, at thy behest. 520 
 
 I. i. 
 
 OEdipus 
 
 Guilt overwhelmed me, friends — whelmed me, in sooth, 
 (God be my witness !) while my will was free ; 
 Yet, as things happened, nought advisedly. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 To what effect? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 The city bound the chain 
 Of an unhappy nuptial-bond on me. 
 That knew not what I did. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Didst thou in truth. 
 As I hear said, 
 ■ Share an ill-omened-bed 
 With her — who was thy mother? 
 
428 SOPHOCLES 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 O, I die, 
 Stranger, to hear it uttered I And these twain — 30 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 How say you? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Young 
 Daughters of mine, twin curses ! 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 God! 
 (Edipus 
 
 Are sprung 
 From the same mother's travail-pangs, as I. 
 
 II. ^. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Are these thy off-spring? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Yes, 
 And their sire's sisters also. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Alas! 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Alas, 
 Wave upon wave of evils, numberless! 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Thou didst endure — 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 I endured misery; 
 Yea, it abides with me. 
 
 I Citizen 
 Thou didst commit — 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Nay, I committed nothing! 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 How was that? 
 
OEDIPUS COLONEUS 429 
 
 (Edipus 
 
 I but received a boon, wretch that I was! 
 
 Such, that my service never merited at 64° 
 
 The city's hands, to have the gift of it. 
 
 II. 2. 
 
 I Citizen 
 How then, unhappy one? Wert thou the cause 
 
 CEdipus 
 What next? What would you know? 
 
 I Citizen 
 Of thine own father's murder? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 O my heart! 
 Thou hast struck me a second blow, 
 Smart upon smart! 
 
 I Citizen 
 Didst thou kill— 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Yea, I killed him. But the deed 
 Had something in it — 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 What is there to plead? 
 
 CEdipus 
 Appealing to the laws. 
 
 I Citizen 
 How could that be? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 I 
 
 I will declare to thee; ' 
 
 Those whom I slew would have been slayers of me ; 
 Whence legally stainless, and in innocence, 
 I stumbled on the offence. 
 
 1 Citizen 
 See how our master Theseus, ^geus' son, 
 At hearing of thee started, and is here. 55° 
 
430 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Enter Theseus. 
 Theseus 
 Many having told to me in former times 
 The bloody story of thine eyes put out, 
 I know thee, son of Laius ; and to-day, 
 Hearing the tidings as I came along, 
 I am the more assured; for by thy garb 
 And thine afflicted presence we perceive 
 That thou art — what thou art ; and pitying thee, 
 Thou forlorn CEdipus^ I would enquire 
 With what petition to the city or me 
 Thou and thy hapless follower wait on us? 
 Instruct me; for calamitous indeed 560 
 
 Must be the case disclosed by thee, wherefrom 
 I should start backward. I remember, I, 
 How in my youth I was a wanderer, 
 As thou art ; and encountered risks as many, 
 In my own person, on a foreign soil, 
 As any man; therefore no foreigner, 
 Such as now thou art, would I turn aside 
 From helping to deliver; knowing well 
 That I am human, and have no more share 
 In what to-morrow will afford, than thou. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Theseus, thy nobleness — without much talking — 
 Hath so vouchsafed, that little is required 570 
 
 For me to say. For thou hast named for me 
 Both who I am, and from what father sprung, 
 And from what country coming ; wherefore now 
 Nothing is left me, but to speak the thing 
 Which I have need of, and my say is done. 
 
 Theseus 
 That very thing now tell, that I may know it. 
 
 CEdipus 
 I come, meaning to give this sorry body 
 A gift to thee ; not goodly to the eyesight ; 
 
OEDIPUS COLONEUS 431 
 
 But better is the gain to come of it 
 Than beauty. 
 
 Theseus 
 
 But what gain do you suppose 
 You have brought with you? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 You will learn in time ; 
 Not just at present. 580 
 
 Theseus 
 
 At what period then 
 Will the advantage of your gift be shewn? 
 
 CEdipus 
 When I am dead, and you have buried me. 
 
 Theseus 
 O, you are claiming life's last offices ; 
 But all that is between — either you forget, 
 Or prize at nothing. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Yes, because in them 
 I have all the rest summed up. 
 
 Theseus 
 
 Tiny indeed 
 Is this request you proffer ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 No; look to it; 
 The coming struggle is not — is not light. 
 
 Theseus 
 Do you speak of your own offspring and of me ? 
 
 CEdipus 
 They will use force to have me carried thither. 
 
 Theseus 
 Well — if you would be wilUng — to stay banished 590 
 Were hardly for your honour. 
 
432 SOPHOCLES 
 
 GEdipus 
 
 1 When I wished it, 
 
 They were the hindrance ! 
 
 Theseus 
 
 O insensate one, 
 Wrath is not fitting in adversity ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 When you have heard me, censure ; but as yet 
 Spare me. 
 
 Theseus 
 
 Say on; for inconsiderately 
 It fits me not to speak. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Theseus, I have suffered 
 Wrongs upon wrongs, most cruel. 
 
 Theseus 
 
 Do you mean 
 The old misfortune of your birth? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 O no; 
 There is no Greek that does not babble of that ! 
 
 Theseus 
 
 What is this sickness then, of which you ail, 
 Sorer than human? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Thus it stands with me ; 
 , By my own offspring was I hunted forth 
 / Out of my country; and I never more 600 
 
 ' Can, as a parricide, again return. 
 
 Theseus 
 
 Then why should they desire to send for you. 
 To make you live remote? 
 
OEDIPUS COLONEUS 433 
 
 OSdipus 
 
 The divine lips i 
 
 Leave them no choice. ! 
 
 Theseus 
 What sort of detriment 
 Are they afraid of, from the oracles? 
 
 OJdipus 
 It is their destiny to be overthrown 
 Here, in this land. 
 
 Theseus 
 And how shall come about 
 The bitter feeling between them and me? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Dear son of yEgeiis, to the Gods alone 
 
 It belongs never to be old or die, 
 
 But all things else melt with all-powerful Time. 
 
 Earth's might decays, the body's might decays, 6io 
 
 And belief dies, and disbelief grows greenly ; 
 
 And varying ever is the passing breath 
 
 Either 'twixt friend and friend, or city and city. 
 
 For to some now, and by and by to some. 
 
 Their friendship's pleasantness is turned to gall. 
 
 Ay, and again to friendship. So in Thebes, 
 
 Though all be now smooth weather there towards you. 
 
 Yet, as he goes, the multitudinous Time 
 
 Gives birth to multitudinous nights and days. 
 
 Wherein, at a mere wprd, shall Theban steel 
 
 Sever your now harmonious hand-claspings ! 620 
 
 Then shall my sleeping and invisible clay. 
 
 Cold in the ground, drink their warm life-blood — if 
 
 Jove be still Jove, and Jove-born Phoebus true. 
 
 But since it is unpleasing to declare 
 
 The words that sleep unuttered, suffer me 
 
 To stay as I began, only preserving 
 
 Your own good faith ; and you shall never say 
 
 (So but the Gods do not prove false to me) 
 
 V A_ 28 
 
434 SOPHOCLES 
 
 That you received, into these regions, 
 In CEdipus, a thankless habitant. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 The man, my Liege, has constantly averred 
 
 He will perform these and like offices 630 
 
 Unto our land. 
 
 Theseus 
 
 Who, I should like to know, 
 Would banish kindness from a man like this. 
 To whom, indeed, the hearth of comradeship 
 With us is ever open ; and besides. 
 He, coming as a suppliant to the Gods, 
 Pays no small tribute to the land, and me. 
 Mindful whereof, I never will cast out 
 The favour that he offers ; nay, I will 
 Replant him in our country. And if here 
 'Tis pleasant to the stranger to abide, 
 I shall enjoin you to take care of him ; 
 Or if it pleases him to go with me — 
 Why, CEdipus, I leave to you the choice, 640 
 
 Which you will have. Your pleasure shall be mine. 
 
 CEdipus 
 O Zeus, shower blessings on such men as this ! 
 
 Theseus 
 Which is your fancy ? To go home with me ? 
 
 CEdipus 
 If it were lawful. But the spot is here — 
 
 Theseus 
 For you to do — what? for I shall not hinder. 
 
 CEdipus 
 For me to vanquish those who have banished me — 
 
 Theseus 
 You magnify the advantage of your presence. 
 
OEDIPUS CO LONE US 435 
 
 CEdipus 
 If what you say abides, and you perform. 
 
 Theseus 
 Be easy about me ; I shall not fail you. 
 
 (Edipus 
 I will not swear you, like some caitiff ! 650 
 
 Theseus 
 
 Nay, 
 You would gain nothing more than my word gives you. 
 
 CEdipus 
 How will you do it ? 
 
 Theseus 
 What fear you specially ? 
 CEdipus 
 There will come those — 
 
 Theseus 
 These will take care for them ! 
 CEdipus 
 MindTiow you leave me — 
 
 Theseus 
 
 Teach not me my duty ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 Needs must, who fears. 
 
 Theseus 
 
 My spirit is not afraid. 
 
 CEdipus 
 You do not know the threats — 
 Theseus 
 
 I know that no one 
 Shall drag you from this place in spite of me. 
 As for their threatenings — many are the threats | 
 
 28—2 
 
436 SOPHOCLES 
 
 In anger spoken often, but in vain ; 
 
 For when the reason has come home again, 
 
 The threats are vanished. And for them, I know, 660 
 
 Though they took heart to talk portentously 
 
 Of carrying you away, yet it may happen 
 
 The sea between us will be found full wide. 
 
 And hardly navigable. I bid you, rather, 
 
 Be of good cheer, apart from my resolve, 
 
 Since Phoebus sent you hither; and anyhow, 
 
 Even in my absence, I am well assured 
 
 My name will guard you from all injury. Exit. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 I. i. 
 
 Stranger, thou art come to rest 
 
 Where the pasturing folds are best 
 
 Of this land of goodly steeds, 
 
 In Colonos' glistening meads, 670 
 
 Where the clear-voiced nightingale 
 
 Oftenest in green valley-glades 
 
 Loves to hide her and bewail ; 
 
 Under wine-dark ivy shades, 
 
 Or the leafy ways, untrod, 
 
 Pierced by sun or tempest never, 
 
 Myriad-fruited, of a God; 
 
 Where in Bacchanalian trim 
 
 Dionysus ranges ever 
 
 With the Nymphs who fostered him ; 680 
 
 I. 2. 
 
 And with bloom each morning there 
 
 Sky-bedewed, in clusters fair 
 
 Without ceasing flourishes 
 
 The narcissus, from of old 
 
 Crown of mighty Goddesses, 
 
 And the crocus, rayed with gold ; 
 
 Nor do sleepless fountains fail. 
 
 Wandering down Cephissus' streams ; 
 
 But with moi';ture pure return, 690 
 
 Quickening day by day the plains 
 
 In the bosom of the vale ; 
 
 Which nor choirs of Muses spurn, 
 
 Nor the Queen with golden reins, 
 
 Aphrodita, light-esteems. 
 
OEDIPUS COLONEUS 437 
 
 II. I. 
 
 Also there is a plant, self-sown, 
 
 Untrained, ungrafted — never known, 
 
 That I have heard, in Asian soil, 
 
 Or Pelops' mighty Dorian isle. 
 
 Which, terror of the spears of foes, 
 
 In this our land most largely grows — 7°° 
 
 The grey health-giving olive-leaf; 
 
 Which neither youth nor veteran chief 
 
 Shall e'er destroy with violent hand; 
 
 For that the face of Jove above it. 
 
 An ever watching guardian, and 
 
 The azure-eyed Athana, love it. 
 
 II. 1. 
 
 And further, more than all, we boast 
 
 The great God's bounty, prized the most 
 
 Of honours by our Mother-state — 710 
 
 Fair sea, fleet steed, and fruitful strain. 
 
 O Cronos' son, Poseidon, King, 
 
 Thou givest her this praise to sing I 
 
 Thou didst for these highways create 
 
 The bit, the courser to refrain; 
 
 And thy good oar-blades, fashioned meet 
 
 For hands of rowers, with bounding motion 
 
 Follow the Nereids' hundred feet. 
 
 In marvellous dance, along the Ocean. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 O highest extolled of lands, it is for thee 720 
 
 To illustrate, now, these glorious words of praise ! 
 
 QiDIPUS 
 
 What is there new, my daughter? 
 Antigone 
 
 Here comes Creon 
 To meet us, father, and not escort-less. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 O most kind elders, let the bourn of safety 
 Now stand revealed upon your part for me i 
 
438 SOPHOCLES 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Courage, it is at hand. If we are old, 
 The vigour of our country has not aged. 
 
 Enter Creon, attended. 
 Creon 
 
 Gentle inhabitants of this your land, 
 
 I read it in your eyes, you have conceived 
 
 Some sudden apprehension at my coming; 730 
 
 Of which be not afraid, and spare to chide me. 
 
 For with no rough design am I come hither, 
 
 Being an old man, and knowing I am arrived 
 
 Before a city of as potent power 
 
 As any in Hellas ; rather, I am sent — 
 
 Not upon one man's errand, but commissioned 
 
 By all the folk, with purpose to persuade — 
 
 Old as I am — this man to follow me 
 
 To Theban soil; since it has fallen to me. 
 
 By kinship, to bewail most grievously 
 
 Of our whole city his calamities. 
 
 Now therefore, O thou luckless ffidipus, 740 
 
 Listen to me, and turn thy footsteps home. 
 
 All the whole Cadmean people summon thee, 
 
 And rightly; and among them I the most; 
 
 Who, if I be not born basest of men. 
 
 As much the most, old sir, grieve at thy troubles, 
 
 Beholding thee in misery, far from home, 
 
 And yet a wanderer always, tramping on. 
 
 Indigent, leaning on one handmaiden, 
 
 Who I — God help me ! never had surmised 
 
 Could fall to such a depth of ignominy 
 
 As this unhappy one has fallen to. 
 
 Thee and thy blindness tending evermore 750 
 
 In habit of a beggar — at her age — 
 
 Maiden as yet, but any passer's prey ! 
 
 What, is it shocking, the reproach I cast 
 
 On you, and on myself, (wretch that I am !) 
 
 And the whole house? Then by our fathers' Gods, 
 
OEDIPUS COLONEUS 439 
 
 Since what is blazed abroad cannot stay hidden, 
 
 Hearken to me, and hide it, CEdipus ; 
 
 Consent to seek your city and fathers' roof; 
 
 Not without salutation to this town, 
 
 For she deserves it well ; but with more justice 
 
 Might she that is at home be reverenced. 
 
 Who was your foster-mother formerly. 760 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Thou aweless villain, ready to adduce 
 
 Specious invention of just argument 
 
 From every case, why do ybu tempt me thus? 
 
 Why do you seek to take me, a second time, 
 
 In such a snare as must torment me most 
 
 If I were in your power ? For formerly, 
 
 When I was sick of my domestic ills. 
 
 When to avoid the land had charms for me, 
 
 You would not grant the favour I desired ; 
 
 But when I was now sated of my frenzy. 
 
 And it was pleasant to wag on at home. 
 
 Straightway you thrust me forth 1 you cast me out! 770 
 
 Never a jot you cared for all this kinship ! 
 
 And now once more, when you perceive this city 
 
 And all her sons in friendship at my side, 
 
 You try, with your soft cruel words, to part us ! 
 
 And yet what charm lies in befriending men 
 
 Against their will? since if a man to you 
 
 Refused a favour, when you begged for it, 
 
 AnTd-gave you nothing, and then afterwards, 
 
 When you were satisfied with your desire. 
 
 And all the grace was graceless, proffered it. 
 
 Would not the pleasure so received be vain? 780 
 
 Such are the offers which you make to me. 
 
 Good in pretence, but evil in the trial. 
 
 Yea, these shall hear how I will prove you evil ; 
 
 You are come to take me, yet not take me home, 
 
 But plant me in your confines, that your city 
 
 May come off scatheless from this land of theirs. 
 
 You shall not have it ! This, though, you shall have ; 
 
440 SOPHOCLES 
 
 My spirit for evil haunting evermore 
 
 About your country; and this my sons shall have, 
 
 As much of my domain as may suffice 
 
 Just to lie dead in ! Can I not discern 790 
 
 Better than you what is the case of Thebes? 
 
 Far better ; having better oracles, 
 
 Phoebus, and Zeus himself, who is his sire. 
 
 But treacherous is the tongue you bring with you, 
 
 And of sharp edges ; and in using it 
 
 You shall take more to hurt you, than to heal. 
 
 But — for I know I do not work on you — 
 
 Go ! and let us live here. Being content, 
 
 We are well enough provided, as we are. 
 
 Creon 
 
 Do you think my game is lost, as to your matters, 800 
 In this discussion, rather — or your own ? 
 
 CEdipus 
 All that I care for is that you should fail 
 Either to persuade me, or these by-standers. 
 
 Creon 
 O wretched man, have you no growth of sense. 
 At last, to boast of? Do you hug dishonour 
 To your old age? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 You are adroit in tongue ; 
 But I know no man righteous, who speaks well 
 Whate'er the cause, 
 
 Creon 
 
 To say what's seasonable, 
 And to say much, are different. 
 
 CEmpus 
 
 You, no question, 
 Say — O how little — and that seasonable ! 
 
 Creon 
 Not in the judgment of a mind like yours 1 810 
 
OEDIPUS COLONEUS 441 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Depart ; for I will speak for these as well ; 
 Do not tome cruising, keeping watch on me, 
 Where I must dwell. 
 
 Creon 
 
 These I attest, not you ; 
 But for the answer you will make your friends. 
 If I once catch you — 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Who can capture me 
 Against the will of my defenders? 
 
 Creon 
 
 Yea, 
 Capture apart, you will be vexed anon. 
 
 CEdipus 
 What sort of act is there behind this menace? 
 
 Creon 
 
 Of your two daughters one I have just seized 
 And sent ; and her I will take presently. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 O sorrow ! 820 
 
 Creon 
 
 You will have more occasion to sing sorrow, 
 Immediately, for this ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 You have seized my daughter? 
 
 Creon pointing to Antigone. 
 Yes, and will seize her, soon ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Ho, gentlemen ! 
 What wijl you do? Will you play false to me? 
 Will you not hunt the villain olif your soil? 
 
442 SOPHOCLES 
 
 I Citizen 
 Withdraw sir, straightway ; for you deal not rightly 
 In this ; nor yet in what you did before. 
 
 Creon to the attendants 
 Now is your time ; carry the girl away ; 
 By force, if she will not consent to go. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Unhappy, whither shall I fly ? What help 
 Of God or man shall I lay hold on ? 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Sir, 
 What are you doing ? 
 
 Creon 
 I will not touch the man ; 830 
 
 Only this maiden, who belongs to me. 
 
 CEdipus 
 You lords of Athens I 
 
 I Citizen 
 Sir, you do not rightly ! 
 Creon 
 
 I do. 
 
 How rightly ? 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Creon 
 I carry off what is mine. 
 
 Seizes Antigone. 
 CEdipus 
 Help, Athens ! 
 
 Chorus 
 
 What d'ye mean, sirrah stranger? 
 Will you not leave hold? 
 You will come, presently, 
 To a trial of force ! 
 
 Creon 
 
 Keep off ! 
 
OEDIPUS CO LONE US 443 
 
 Chorus 
 Not from you, till you desist. 
 Creon 
 I tell you, you will have to fight my city, 
 If you do me a harm. 
 
 (Edipus 
 Did I not say so? 
 I Citizen to the attendants 
 Take your hands off that maiden instantly ! 
 
 Creon 
 Keep your commands for those you rule ! 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 I tell you, 
 Let go! 840 
 
 Creon to the attendants 
 And I tell you, to go your ways. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Come on, here, come ! 
 Come on, neighbours all ! 
 The town is being spoiled — 
 Our town, by force of arms ! 
 Come on, here, to me ! 
 
 Antigone 
 I am dragged away, unhappy ! O sirs — sirs ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 Where are you, daughter? 
 
 Antigone 
 Here, borne along perforce. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Reach out your hands, my child! 
 Antigone 
 
 I am not able. 
 
444 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Creon 
 
 Will not you take her on ? 
 
 Exeunt attendants with Antigone. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Wretch that I am ! 
 
 Creon 
 
 At least you shall not any longer make 
 
 Of these two crutches an excuse to roam ; 
 
 But since you choose to gain a victory 
 
 At the expense of your own land, and friends, 850 
 
 By whose commands, although myself am royal, 
 
 I do these things, why take it ! for in time 
 
 You will find out, I know, that neither now 
 
 Are you doing well to your own self, nor yet 
 
 Did so before, crossing your friends, to indulge 
 
 The frenzy, which is your perpetual bane. 
 
 I Citizen 
 Hold there, sir stranger ! 
 
 Creon 
 Touch me not, I say. 
 I Citizen 
 If they are lost, I will hold fast to you ! 
 Creon 
 
 You shall soon spare a weightier pledge to Thebes; 
 For I will lay my hands not on them only. 
 
 I Citizen 
 What will you turn to ? 
 
 Creon 
 
 I will seize him too, 860 
 
 And carry him off! 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 You speak a perilous word. 
 
OEDIPUS COLONEUS 445 
 
 Creon 
 I swear it shall be done forthwith. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Unless 
 The ruler of this country hinder thee ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 O shameless voice! Would you lay hands on me? 
 
 Creon 
 Silence, I say ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 Nay, may these Goddesses 
 Leave me but breath enough to lay this curse 
 On thee, thou monster ! who hast torn away 
 No other than an eye — by force — from me, 
 Lost — like the eyes I lost before ! For this. 
 May the all-seeing among Gods, the Sun, 
 Give to thyself, and to thy family. 
 Even such a life, as is my own old age ! 870 
 
 Creon 
 You natives of this country, mark you this? 
 
 CEdipus 
 They mark us both, and understand that I, 
 Wronged by thy deeds, with words defend myself. 
 
 Creon 
 I will not check my fury ; though alone, \ 
 And slow with age, I will arrest him here. ] 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Unhappy that I am ! 
 
 Chorus 
 How swollen is the pride 
 You are come with hither, 
 If you think, sir stranger, 
 To accomplish this ! 
 
 Creon 
 
 I think it. 
 
446 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Chorus 
 Not, so long a$ Athens stands ! 
 
 Creon 
 
 In his own right a weak man overcomes 880 
 
 A strong one. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Hear ye what he mutters ? 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 What 
 He never will perform, [Zeus be my witness !] 
 
 Creon 
 That Zeus may know; you cannot. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Is not this 
 Violence ? 
 
 Creon 
 Yea, violence ! but ye must bear it ! 
 
 Attacks CEdipus. 
 Chorus 
 
 Help, people all ! 
 Help, lords of the land ! 
 Come on quickly, come ! 
 They pass here, indeed, 
 Beyond all the bounds ! 
 
 Enter Theseus, attended. 
 Theseus 
 
 What cry was that? What is it? In what panic fear 
 Did you stay me sacrificing at the altar here 
 To the Sea-God your patron? Speak, tell me the need 
 At which I have hurried hither, with less ease than speed. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 dearest friend — for your accost I know — 
 
 1 have but now been miserably abused 
 At this man's hands ! 
 
OEDIPUS COLO NE US 447 
 
 Theseus 
 How ? Who lias hurt you ? Speak ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 Creon here, whom you see, has torn away 
 The one poor pair of children left to me ! 
 
 Theseus 
 How say you ? 
 
 OiDIPUS 
 
 You have heard how I am wronged. 
 
 Theseus 
 Some servant go as quick as possible 
 To the altars by, and make the people all- 
 Horsemen and footmen — from the sacrifice 
 Hurry, with loosened reins, straight to the spotj 900 
 
 Where the highways out of two gorges meet. 
 Lest the girls pass, and I become a mock 
 To this my guest, worsted by violence. 
 Go, as I bid you, quickly ; Exeunt Guards. 
 
 As for him, 
 Were I as far in anger as he merits, 
 I had not suffered him to pass unscathed 
 Out of my hands ; but now, with the same law 
 Shall he be suited, which he brought with him — 
 That, and no other — Sir ! you shall not stir 
 Out of this country more, till you have brought 
 And set those maidens here, for all to see; 910 
 
 Since you have wrought unworthily of me. 
 And of your lineage, and of your own land, 
 Who, entering on a state that cares for right. 
 And decides nothing without precedent. 
 Must set at nought our country's ofiScers, 
 And in this onslaught hale away by force 
 And make a prize of anything you please ; 
 Deeming my city to be void of men, 
 Or manned with slaves, and my own self worth nothing ! 
 And yet it was not Thebes taught you this baseness; 
 
448 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Thebes is not used to nourish lawless men, 920 
 
 Nor would approve you, if she heard of you 
 
 Despoiling me, yea and the Gods, by force 
 
 Dragging away poor creatures — supplicants. 
 
 I, if I did intrude upon your land. 
 
 Even if I had a cause more just than any, 
 
 Never, without the country's ruler's leave, 
 
 Whoever he might be, should have been found 
 
 Haling and leading captive ; but I know 
 
 How guest to host ought to comport himself. 
 
 But you disgrace a state, that deserved better — 
 
 Your own — by your own act ; and your full years 930 
 
 Leave you at once empty of sense, and old. 
 
 So said I once before, and I now tell you ; 
 
 Except you want to be compelled to stay 
 
 Against your will, an alien, in this land, 
 
 Have the girls brought back hither instantly ! 
 
 You hear me say it, and what I say, I mean. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Do you see the pass you have arrived at, sir? 
 How you would seem, judging by your parentage, 
 Just, and are found to be a wrong-doer? 
 
 Creon 
 
 Not that I call this city void of men. 
 
 Or void of counsel, as thou sayest I do, 940 
 
 son of ^geus, have I done this deed ; 
 But apprehending no enthusiasm 
 
 About my kindred could have fallen on these, 
 
 That they, against my will, should cherish them ; 
 
 And I felt certain they would not receive 
 
 A man polluted, and a parricide, 
 
 Nor one with whom was found the consciousness 
 
 Of an incestuous wedlock ; such a Hill 
 
 Was theirs, of Ares, rich in counsel, which 
 
 1 knew to be established in their land. 
 That suffers not such vagabonds to dwell 
 Within their city's bounds ; and in that trust 
 
OEDIPUS COLONEUS 449 
 
 I undertook to make this capture mine. 950 
 
 And even this I should not have essayed, 
 
 If he had not denounced a bitter curse 
 
 On me, and on my house ; wherefore, being wronged, 
 
 This, in return, I thought to do to him. 
 
 For of resentment there is no old age. 
 
 Other than death. No fret can reach the dead. 
 
 Now, you will do just what you please ; for me — 
 
 Me friendlessness makes insignificant, 
 
 Although my words are just; yet when assailed, | 
 
 Old as I am, I will attempt revenge. } 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 O front of impudence ! Which thinkest thou 960 
 
 Now to degrade — My grey hairs, or thine own? 
 
 Who hast spit forth out of thy mouth at me 
 
 Murders and marriages and accidents. 
 
 Which to my grief, not of free will, I suffered ; 
 
 Such was the will of Heaven, that had some cause 
 
 For wrath, it may be, with our house, of old. 
 
 Since for myself, I know you cannot find 
 
 Any reproach of wrongfulness in me, 
 
 That could have caused me to commit these wrongs 
 
 Against myself and mine; for, answer me. 
 
 If to my father by an oracle 
 
 The revelation came that he should die 970 
 
 By his son's hands, how can you justly tax 
 
 Me with the fact, whom neither father yet 
 
 Then had begot, or mother had conceived, 
 
 Me, who as yet had not begun to be ? 
 
 And if thereafter proving — as I proved — 
 
 Hapless, I did lay hands upon my sire 
 
 And slay him, nothing knowing of what I did. 
 
 Nor yet to whom I did it, how, I ask. 
 
 Can you with reason blame the unconscious deed ! 
 
 And for my mother — are you not ashamed, 
 
 miserable ! at forcing me to name 
 
 Her marriage, your own sister's — as I will — 980 
 
 1 will not now be silent, you being grown 
 
 Y, A, 29 
 
4SO SOPHOCLES 
 
 To such a monster ' of outspokenness ! 
 
 She bare — ah yes, unknowingly she bare 
 
 Me — who not knew ! Woe worth the while to me ! 
 
 And having given me birth, she brought me forth 
 
 Children — her own reproach ! But of set purpose, 
 
 For one thing, well I know, you spit this venom 
 
 On her, and me ; whereas I wedded her 
 
 Unwitting, and unwillingly speak of it. 
 
 But not for this my marriage, nor for that — 
 
 That parricide, which you continually 
 
 Throw in my teeth, bitterly upbraiding it, 990 
 
 Do I consent to be called infamous. 
 
 For answer me a question ; but this one ; 
 
 If any person here upon the spot 
 
 Drew near to kill you — you the just one — whether 
 
 Would you enquire if he that sought your life 
 
 Were your own father, or chastise him straight ? 
 
 You would chastise the offender, I conceive. 
 
 If you love life ; not look about for law. 
 
 Just such was the misfortune I incurred, 
 
 Led by the hand of Heaven ; for which, I fancy. 
 
 Not even my father's spirit, were he alive. 
 
 Could say one word against me. And yet you — 
 
 (For just you are not, but think well to utter 1000 
 
 All things, both lawful and unlawful,) you 
 
 Slander me with these sayings before them all ! 
 
 Yea, you make free to fawn on Theseus' name, 
 
 And upon Athens — how decorously 
 
 Her citizens are governed, and so praising. 
 
 You miss out this, that if there be a land 
 
 That knows what reverence to the Gods is due, 
 
 'Tis this herein excels, whence to remove 
 
 Me, the old suppliant, you assail my person. 
 
 And seize my daughters, and make off with them. 
 
 Wherefore these maiden Powers I invoke loio 
 
 With supplications, and with prayers adjure 
 
 To come, as aiders and auxiliaries ; 
 
 So you may learn what sort of men they are, 
 
 By whom this city is defended- 
 
OEDIPUS COLONEUS 451 
 
 I Citizen 
 Sir, 
 The stranger is a good man ; and his woes 
 Are horrible, and worthy of relief. 
 
 Theseus 
 
 Enough of words ; they speed, who have done the wrong, 
 While we, of the injured party, stand here still. 
 
 Creon 
 What is it you bid a poor weak man to do? 
 
 Theseus 
 
 To lead the way thither, and to take me with you, 
 
 That, if you have these maidens, whom we seek, 1020 
 
 Within our bounds, yourself may find them for me; 
 
 But if your guards are making off with them, 
 
 We need not toil ; for there are others there, 
 
 No laggards, whom they never shall escape. 
 
 Out of this country, to give thanks to Heaven. 
 
 Lead forward ! Know, sir captor, you are caught ! 
 
 Fortune has trapped you, hunter ! So it is, 
 
 Nothing abides of what is "got by guile. 
 
 And you shall have no help ; I am sure you have come 
 
 Not single, nor unfurnished, to the point 
 
 Of violence, such as you have here essayed, 1030 
 
 But there was some one whom you trusted in. 
 
 I must look to it ; I must not let this city 
 
 Be feebler than a single mortal's arm. 
 
 Do you take my sense? Or does my speaking seem 
 
 As idle, now, as when you framed this project? 
 
 Creon 
 
 Being here, you may say on, I shall not cavil; 
 But once at home, I shall know my part, too. 
 
 Theseus 
 Ay, threaten us, and so — march ! You, CEdipus, 
 
 29—3 
 
452 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Abide securely here ; and credit me, 
 
 Till I have given your children to your arms, 1040 
 
 Except I shall die first, I will not leave it. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 God speed you, Theseus, for your nobleness, 
 And for your duteous providence towards me. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 I. 1. 
 
 I wish that I could be 
 Where foes are gathering fast, 
 Soon to be hurled together, brand on brand, 
 With clamour of battle ! along either strand — 
 Pythian, or that where by the torches' light 
 Sit Queens, dispensing many a holy rite 1050 
 
 To worshipping mortals ; Queens whose golden key 
 
 Upon the lips hath passed 
 Of all their ministering Eumolpidse ; 
 
 Soon, methinks, there 
 Shall Theseus, the awakener of the fight. 
 And that unconquered sister pair. 
 Amid the fields hard by, 
 Join voices in one loud effectual rescue-cry ! 
 
 Or haply pass they now 
 Out from the ^atid meads. 
 Nigh to that snow-clad mountain's western brow, 
 
 Flying on fleet steeds 1060 
 
 Or swift contending chariots ? He shall fail ! 
 The battle spirit of our Athenian race 
 Is terrible ; terrible in pride of place 
 Are Theseus' children ; lo where brightly shines 
 Curb beyond curb, and all along the lines 
 Of bridle-piece on bridle-piece of mail 
 
 Come charging on 
 Horsemen on horses, warriors who revere 1070 
 
 Athana, her to whom the horse is dear, 
 And him, the Sea-God, the land's guardian, Rhea's own son ! 
 
 II. I. 
 
 Are they at work ? Do they linger yet ? 
 
 How my mind forebodes I shall greet, ere long. 
 
OEDlPUS COLONHtJS 4S3 
 
 Them that were injured — the maids who met 
 
 From kindred hands injurious wrong. 
 Zeus works — he is working a thing to-day ; 
 
 Prophet am I of a well -won field ; 1080 
 
 O would that I were as a swift-winged dove, 
 Rocked by the winds, from the clouds above 
 To uplift my gaze, and to survey 
 
 The arms that triumph, the arms that yield ! 
 
 II. 1. 
 
 Hail, great Master of Gods in heaven, 
 
 All-seeing Zeus ! With conquering might 
 To the chiefs of our land by Thee be it given 
 
 To obtain this prize — to achieve this fight ! 
 So Pallas Athana, thy awful maid, 1090 
 
 Grant it ! Phoebus, too, I invoke, 
 The Hunter-God — come, visit us here. 
 With the chaser of dappled swift-footed deer. 
 Thy sister — come, bring aid upon aid 
 
 To this our country and these our folk ! 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 You will not say, sir wanderer, to your seer, 
 He is no sayer of sooth; for I perceive 
 Those girls conducted hither back again. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Where ? where ? How say you ? What was that you uttered ? 
 
 Enter Theseus, Antigone, Ismene and Guards. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 O father, father, might some Deity 
 Give you to look upon this best of men, 
 Who brings us back to you ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Child, are you there, 
 
 You and your sister? 
 
454 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Yes ; for Theseus' hands 
 And his good followers', here, redeemed us. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Come, 
 My girl — Come to your father, both of you, 
 And let me clasp your form — as I despaired 
 Ever should be ! 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Have what you ask — the leave. 
 Not without longing. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Where — where are you? 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Here, 
 Both of us, coming close. 
 
 CEdipus 
 My darling sprays ! 
 
 Antigone 
 
 ay, dear to the stem! 
 
 (Edipus 
 
 Props of my frame ! 
 Antigone 
 Poor hapless props, of a poor frame indeed ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 1 have my darlings! Now I could even die mo 
 Not all unhappy, these being by my side. 
 
 Daughters, support me — one on either hand — 
 
 Growing to the plant, from which you took your growth, 
 
 So shall you end this wretched groping — lonely 
 
OEDIPUS CO LONE US 455 
 
 Until you came ; then tell me, in fewest Words, 
 All that has happened ; tender maids like you 
 Need not to make long speeches. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Father dear, 
 This is the man who rescued us ; to him 
 You must give ear ; his is the deed ; my part 
 Will be full brief. 
 
 GEdipus 
 
 O Sir, be not amazed, 
 If seeing my children here, out of all hope. 
 Makes me prolong discourse to weariness. 1120 
 
 For well I know, this kindness, joy to me. 
 No other than yourself has shewn towards them. 
 For you, and no man else, delivered them ; 
 And may the Gods bestow as I desire 
 On you, and on this land ; since among you 
 Alone of men have I found piety. 
 And gentle dealing, and all truthfulness. 
 I know it, and these thanks are my return ; 
 For what I have, I have, only through you. 
 And now, king, stretch out your hand to me, 1130 
 For me to touch, and kiss, if kiss I may. 
 That forehead. Yet — what am I babbling ! How 
 Can I desire that you should touch a man — 
 Wretch that I am ! to whom what taint of ills 
 CUngs not ? I cannot ; nor will suffer you ; 
 Only the man who has experienced it 
 Can sympathize with misery such as mine. 
 Stand still and take my greeting; and henceforth , 
 Be duly mindful of me, as to-day. 
 
 Theseus 
 
 That in the pleasure these your children bring 
 
 You set yourself bounds of discourse full wide — T140 
 
 That you preferred their converse in my room, 
 
 I do not feel amazement ; no annoy 
 
 Possesses me, for this ; I do not care 
 
45^ SOPHOCLES 
 
 To have my life made glorious witb fine speeches, 
 Rather than by my actions. And I shew it ; 
 Seeing I have failed in nought of what I sware, 
 Old man, to you ; for here they are with me. 
 Alive, unharmed of what was threatened them. 
 And now, what need to make a bootless boast 
 Of how the field was won? things which yourself 
 Will come to know from these, having them with you ; 
 But on a matter 1 have met withal 1150 
 
 In coming here just now, advise with me ; 
 Since, though it seems a trifle, it is strange ; 
 And it behoves us to make light of nothing. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 What is it, son of ^geus ? Tell me ; I 
 Know nothing of the things you hint. 
 
 Theseus 
 
 They say 
 A man, who is no fellow-citizen — 
 And yet akin to you, has taken seat 
 Before our altar of Poseidon here. 
 Where I was offering, when you 'summoned me. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 What countryman? What is it that he seeks 1160 
 
 In taking sanctuary ? 
 
 Theseus 
 
 I do not know ; 
 Save only that with you, as I am told. 
 He asks for a few words, an easy boon. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 But of what kind ? This is no sanctuary 
 Taken for a trifling matter. 
 
 Theseus 
 
 As they say. 
 
OEDIPVS colon E us 457 
 
 The object of his journey is to come 
 
 To speech of you ; then to depart, in safety, 
 
 The way he came. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Who can it be, that seats him 
 As suppliant thus ? 
 
 Theseus 
 
 Think if you have some kinsman 
 In Argos, who might seek this boon of you. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 best of friends, stop, say no more ! 
 
 Theseus 
 
 What ails you? 1170 
 CEdipus 
 Do not request me — 
 
 Theseus 
 To what purport, say ? 
 CEdipus 
 
 1 know full well who is the supplicant, 
 When I hear this. 
 
 Theseus 
 
 Who can it be, with whom 
 I am to have a quarrel? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 O king, my son ; 
 My abhorred son, whose words most grievously 
 Of all mankind I could endure to hear. 
 
 Theseus 
 But why ? Can you not listen, and still not do 
 
4S8 SOPHOCLES 
 
 What you mislike ? How is the hearing pain ? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Most alien to a father's ears, sir king, 
 
 Has that voice grown ; do not put stress on me 
 
 To concede this. 
 
 Theseus 
 
 Look if the sanctuary 
 Does not compel it ; whether a regard 
 Must not be paid towards the God. n8o 
 
 Antigone 
 
 My father, 
 Hearken to me, young though I am who speak. 
 Suffer this friend to gratify the God 
 And his own heart, in that which he desires ; 
 And grant it us, to let our brother come. 
 Take heart ! You cannot be seduced, perforce, 
 From your resolve, by words that grate on you ; 
 And to hear words, what harms ? for by a word 
 Are deeds, maliciously designed, bewrayed. 
 You gave him being; then, if he did to you 
 The wickedest and worst of injuries, iigo 
 
 Not even so, dear father, were it right 
 For you to do him evil in return. 
 O let him come ! Others have bad sons too, 
 And keen resentments ; but, on being advised, 
 They are charmed in spirit by the spells of friends. 
 Look to the past, not to the present; all 
 That you endured through mother and through sire ; 
 If you regard it, you will find, I know, 
 That harmful passion ends in further harm. 
 You have reminders of it far from slight, 
 Maimed of your sightless eyes. Let us prevail! 1200 
 It is not right that they whose prayers are just 
 Should play the beggar; nor that you yourself, 
 Who are being kindly treated, should not know 
 How to requite the kindness you receive. 
 
OEDIPUS CO LONE US 459 
 
 CEdipus 
 Child, I am conquered, by your words and his ; 
 A grievous boon ; be it as pleases you ; 
 Only, if he you speak of shall come hither — . 
 Sir host — never let any one get power 
 Over my life ! 
 
 Theseus 
 Twice to be told such things 
 I do not need; once is enough, old man; 
 Nor would I boast; yet be sure, safe you are, 
 If any of the Gods takes care of me. 1210 
 
 Exit Theseus, attended. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Whoso thinks average years a paltry thing, 
 
 Choosing prolonged old age, 
 He, to my mind, will be found treasuring 
 
 A foolish heritage. 
 For if a man have given him to fulfil 
 
 What length of days he will, 
 Then many things are dealt him, in long days, 
 
 That border hard on pain. 
 And things that please are hidden from the gaze; 
 
 And when the doom of Hades is made plain, 1220 
 
 Whereto belongs no bridal, and no quire. 
 
 Nor any sound of lyre, 
 Death, at the end. 
 
 Waits, an impartial friend. 
 
 Never to have been bom is much the best ; 
 
 And the next best, by far. 
 To return thence, by the way speediest. 
 
 Where our beginnings are. 
 For soon as Youth comes to the light of day, 1230 
 
 With Folly at his back, 
 What toilsome labour lurks not in his way? 
 
 Which misses of his track? 
 Murders, seditions, battles, envy, strife ; 
 
 Yea and old age, in hateful friendlessness — 
 This is our portion at the close of life — 
 
 Strengthless — companionless ; 
 
46o SOPHOCLESx 
 
 Wherewith abide 
 Ills passing all beside. 
 
 Such are the aged ; such am I ; 
 
 But he, this man of woes, 
 Is beaten down on every hand, 1240 
 
 Like to some wintry Northern strand, 
 
 Vext by the Ocean's blows ; 
 Such waves of ill, so fell and high, 
 
 Smite him, without repose ; 
 Some from the settings of the Day, 
 
 Some from his rising light, 
 Some on the midmost noontide ray. 
 
 Some from the Alps of Night. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 And here we have this stranger, I suppose, 
 
 Coming — O father, it is none but he! 1250 
 
 Tears, without ceasing, falling from his eyes. 
 
 CEdipus 
 Who is the fellow? 
 
 Antigone 
 
 He whom all along 
 We guessed at, Polynices. He is here. 
 
 Enter Polynices. 
 
 Polynices 
 
 Alack, what shall I do, girls? Must I first 
 
 Weep for my own afflictions, or for those 
 
 Of my old father, as I see them now? 
 
 Whom I have found, an outcast here with you 
 
 Upon a foreign soil, clad in such raiment — 
 
 Whose horrid grime antique has become native 
 
 To his antiquity, withering his trunk, 1260 
 
 While from his eye-abated front his hair 
 
 Streams in the breeze uncombed, and in his wallet 
 
 He carries, I suppose, such provender 
 
 For the poor belly, as is akin to these ! 
 
OEDIPUS COLONEUS 461 
 
 The which I recreant all too late perceive, 
 
 And do confess I am proved basest of men 
 
 By your condition. Ask what I have done 
 
 Of none but me. But seeing that Clemency, 
 
 Even by the side of Zeus, sharing his throne, 
 
 Rules, in all acts, so let her find a place. 
 
 Father, by thee; for remedies, indeed. 
 
 Still may remain, of what has been amiss, 1270 
 
 But aggravations none. — Why are you silent? 
 
 Father, say something ! Do not turn away ! 
 
 Will you return me not an answer back? 
 
 Insult me with a dumb dismissal? Tell 
 
 Not even why you are enraged with me? 
 
 offspring of this man, sisters of mine, 
 Try you to move our father's countenance, 
 Inexorable, unapproachable. 
 
 Not to dismiss me, the God's worshipper. 
 Thus in disgrace, answering me never a word ! 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Unhappy brother, what you come to seek 1280 
 
 Tell us yourself; for out of many words. 
 Stirring delight, or breathing pity, or pain. 
 Come, to the voiceless, powers of utterance. 
 
 POLYNICES 
 
 1 will speak out ; for you direct me well ; 
 First calling to my aid the God himself. 
 
 Up from whose shrine the sovereign of this land 
 
 Raised me, and sent me hither, promising me 
 
 Audience and answer and safe conduct home. 
 
 The which I shall expect to meet with, sirs. 
 
 From you, from these my sisters, and my sire. 1290 
 
 Next, I would tell you, father, why I came. 
 
 I have been driven out of my native land, 
 
 Because I claimed, being of an elder birth. 
 
 To sit upon your own imperial throne ; \ 
 
 For which Eteocles, though my junior born. 
 
46z SOPHOCLES 
 
 Not overcoming me in argument, 
 
 Nor coming to the test of arms or act, 
 
 But tampering with the people, exiled me. 
 
 Whereof the occasion, without doubt I say, 
 
 Is your Erinys; and from soothsayers, 1360 
 
 Moreover, so I hear. For when I came 
 
 To Argos of the Dorians, I obtained 
 
 The daughter of Adrastus to my wife, 
 
 And made confederates along with me 
 
 As many of the land of Apia 
 
 As are deemed first, and have been best approved 
 
 In war; meaning to gather against Thebes 
 
 My army of Seven Lances in their train. 
 
 And either die upon the field, or else 
 
 Banish the authors of my banishment. 
 
 So be it! Then, why am I come hither now? 
 
 Father, with expiatory prayers to you. 
 
 Both for myself and my allies, who now 13 10 
 
 In seven arrays under seven pennons stand 
 
 All round the plain of Thebes. Among them comes 
 
 Amphiaraus the strong spearman, first 
 
 In war, first in the arts of augury ; 
 
 The second is ^tolian, CEneus' son, 
 
 Tydeus ; a third Eteoclus, Argive-born ; 
 
 Talaus his father sends Hippomedon 
 
 Fourth; and the fifth, Capaneus, vaunts himself 
 
 That he will set the castle of Thebes on fire 
 
 And burn it to the ground; the sixth springs forward, 
 
 Parthenopaeus the Arcadian, named 
 
 As being born of mother theretofore 
 
 Long time untamed, the trusty progeny 
 
 Of Atalanta; and your offspring I — 
 
 (Or if not yours, but by ill destiny 
 
 Begotten, yet at least called yours), I lead 
 
 The undaunted host of Argos against Thebes. 
 
 And all together for these children's sake, 
 
 Father, beseech you, and by your own life, 
 
 Praying you relax your heavy wrath at me. 
 
 Now marching to avenge me of that brother 
 
OEDIPUS CO LONE US 463 
 
 Who thrust me forth, spoiled of my father-land. 1330 
 
 For if there is a truth in oracles, 
 
 They say success is to the side you choose. 
 
 Wherefore I implore you, by the water springs — 
 
 Yea by the Gods of Thebes, hearken and yield ; 
 
 For I am poor and exiled ; so are you ; 
 
 And under the same lot both you and I 
 
 Cringe to a stranger for a lodging. He 
 
 Meanwhile, at home, a monarch, well a day ! 
 
 Lives delicately, and derides us both ; 
 
 But with short effort, after small delay, 
 
 If you cooperate with my design, 1340 
 
 Him will I shatter ! and so take you home. 
 
 And in your own house place you, and myself, ^ 
 
 And cast him out by force. With your goodwill j 
 
 I may indulge this boast; but, without you, 
 
 I have not strength even to be saved myself. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Now for his sake who sent him, CEdipus, 
 Say what is meet, and send the man away. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Chiefs of this country — if it had not been 
 
 Theseus who sent him hither, to my presence. 
 
 Deeming him worthy to hear words of me, 1350 
 
 He never should have heard my voice at all ! 
 
 But now, being so graced, he shall depart 
 
 With that within his ears which shall not please him 
 
 All his life long. O most desertless villain. 
 
 Who, when you held the sceptre and the throne 
 
 Which now your brother has achieved in Thebes, 
 
 Yourself expelled me — your own father — me 
 
 Made homeless — drove to wear this livery, 
 
 Which you shed tears to see, now you have come 
 
 To walk in the same evil straits with me ! 
 
 This is no stuff to weep for; rather is it 1360 
 
 For me to bear, mindful, howe'er I live, 
 
 That you are my destroyer. For you made me 
 
464 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Familiar with this woe ; you exiled me ; 
 
 And by your act made vagabond, I beg 
 
 My daily bread from others. Had I not 
 
 Fathered these girls, to be my cherishers, 
 
 I had been dead, for aught you did for me ; 
 
 But now these keep me, these my cherishers. 
 
 These men, not women, for their ministering ; 
 
 And ye are sprung from others' loins, not mine. 
 
 Wherefore Heaven's eye is on thee — yea, not yet 1370 
 
 As it soon shall be, if these cohorts move 
 
 Toward Theba's hold ; for it may never be 
 
 That thou shalt storm that city; rather, first. 
 
 Thou, and thy brother as well, blood-stained, shalt fall. 
 
 Such curses on you I denounced before. 
 
 And summon, now, to come and succour me. 
 
 And make you learn true filial reverence, 
 
 And cease your scorn, although the sire be blind. 
 
 Who fathered sons like you ! These did not so. 
 
 Therefore thy supplication and thy throne 1380 
 
 They far transcend — if still time-honoured Right 
 
 Sits equal in the ancient rule of Jove. 
 
 Hence ! I disown thee, reptile ! of base souls 
 
 Basest ! and take with thee this doom of mine. 
 
 Never to win thy native land in fight. 
 
 Nor to return to Argos in the Vale, 
 
 But by a kindred hand thyself to fall. 
 
 Him having slain, who was thy banisher. 
 
 This is my curse ! And to the abyss I call. 
 
 Hated, of Hades, where my father is, 1390 
 
 To be thy place of exile ; and I call 
 
 These Powers, and Ares, who in both of you 
 
 Hath sown this monstrous hate. Hear me, and go ; 
 
 And as you go, tell all the Cadmeans, 
 
 Ay, and your trusty allies, how CEdipus 
 
 To his own sons dealt out such recompense ! 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 I am sorry, Polynices, for the errand 
 
 On which you came; and now, go straightway back. 
 
OEDIPUS CO LONE US 465 
 
 POLYNICES 
 
 Woe for my journey, woe for my mischance, 
 
 Woe for my comrades! To an end like this 1400 
 
 Did we set out from Argos on our way ! 
 
 Such as it is impossible to tell 
 
 To any of my fellows, or to turn 
 
 Their footsteps backward ; only this is left, 
 
 Silent, to meet my fate. O misery ! 
 
 Sisters of mine, his daughters ! You have heard 
 
 The hard words of our father, cursing me ; 
 
 I charge you in Heaven's name, if that father's curse 
 
 Shall be fulfilled, if it shall be your lot 
 
 To return home, do not you look on me 
 
 With contumely, but lay me in my tomb, 1410 
 
 And grant me funeral rites. Then on that praise 
 
 Which from your labour for your father's sake 
 
 You now derive, shall rise a second praise, 
 
 As ample, through your ministering to me. 
 
 Antigone 
 Polynices, I entreat you, yield to me ! 
 
 POLYNICES 
 
 Tell me in what, dearest Antigone I 
 Antigone 
 
 March back at once to Argos! Do not ruin 
 Yourself — and Thebes ! 
 
 Polynices 
 
 That is impossible; 
 How could I lead the selfsame army forth. 
 If I had faltered once? 
 
 Antigone 
 
 But why again 
 Must you get angry, boy? Where is your profit 1420 
 In overthrowing your country? 
 
 Y. A. ^ 
 
466 SOPHOCLES 
 
 POLYNICES 
 
 To be banished 
 Is a dishonour; and for me, the elder, 
 To be so flouted by my brother. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Then 
 Do j'ou not see, how you are carrying out. 
 Direct, his prophecies, who spells you death, 
 Each from the other's hand ? 
 
 POLYNICES 
 
 He wishes it. 
 No, no retreat is left us. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Woe for me ! 
 But who that heard the things he prophesied 
 Will dare to follow?- 
 
 POLYNICES 
 
 Nay, we will tell no tales. 
 It is the merit of a general 
 To impart good news, and to conceal the bad. 1430 
 
 Antigone 
 Is this the course you have resolved on, boy? 
 
 POLYNICES 
 
 Hinder me not. The journey on which I go 
 Will be made luckless and unfortunate 
 By this my father and his cleaving curse. 
 But as for you, God speed you, as you do 
 My dying hest — for you will have no other 
 To do for me, in life. Unhand me now. 
 Farewell. You will behold my face no more. 
 
 Antigone 
 woe is me 1 
 
OEDIPUS COLONEUS 467 
 
 POLYNICES 
 
 Do not lament for me. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Who but must mourn thee, brother, rushing thus 
 On visible death? 
 
 POLYNICES 
 
 If needs must, die I will. 
 
 Antigone 
 Not so, but hear me ! 
 
 POLYNICES 
 
 Ask not what may not be. 
 
 Antigone 
 Unhappy that I am, if I lose thee ! 
 
 POLYNICES 
 
 This is in Destiny's hands, or thus to be,' 
 Or not to be. For you — the Gods I pray 
 You never meet with ill; for you deserve, 
 All will confess, not to be miserable. Exit. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 I. .. 
 
 Here are new griefs, new and calamitous, 
 From sources new, that have appeared to us, 
 
 Of the blind stranger's making ; 
 
 Except, indeed, his fate is overtaking: 1450 
 
 For of no doom from Heaven can I declare 'tis vain. 
 
 The end Time sees, yea, sees alway; 
 
 Time, that o'erthrows to-day, 
 Time, that with morning's light uprears again. 
 
 Thunder. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Heavens ! how it thundered ! 
 
 30—3 
 
468 SOPHOCLES 
 
 CEdipus 
 Children, my children ! will some bystander 
 Fetch the most excellent Theseus hither? 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Fatlier, 
 What is the end for which you summon him? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 This thunder, winged by Jove, must carry me 1460 
 
 Straightway to Hades. Send at once, I say. 
 
 TTiunder. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 I. -L. 
 
 Hark with what might the unutterable roar 
 
 Of Jove's own bolt comes crashing down once more ! 
 
 The very hair on my head 
 
 Stands up for dread ; 
 My spirit quails. — There flames lightning from Heaven again ! 
 
 What will the issue be? 
 
 I tremble at it ; for surely not in vain 
 Is it sent forth — never innocuously. 1470 
 
 Loud thunder. 
 
 I Citizen 
 You mighty Heavens ! Thou Jove ! 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 Daughter, the appointed ending of my life 
 Has found me, and may not be averted more. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 How do you know it? By what conjecture comes 
 This certainty? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 I feel it. With all speed 
 Let some one go and fetch this country's king. 
 
 Thunder. 
 
OEDIPUS COLONEVS 469 
 
 Chorus 
 II. I. 
 
 Hark again, hark, 
 
 The echoing clap resounds on either hand. 
 Have mercy, O God, have mercy, if aught of dark 1480 
 
 Thou art now bringing to our mother-land ! 
 May he bring luck who meets me ! 
 Nor, now the man who greets me 
 Is fraught with doom, let it be mine to share 
 A fruitless boon — King, Jove, to thee 1 make my prayer ! 
 
 OEdipus 
 Is the man nigh, my children? Will he come 
 While I still live, and reason rules my mind? 
 
 Antigone 
 
 What is the trust, which in your mind you crave 
 To breathe in Theseus' ears? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 To pay to him, 
 For good he did me, a complete return. 
 Such as I promised in receiving it. 1490 
 
 Chorus 
 
 II. 2. 
 Hither, my son, 
 
 Quick, quick — howbeit thine offerings are placed 
 High in the. hollow of his altar-stone 
 
 To the sea's lord, Poseidon, come with haste ! 
 Thee and thy city and friends 
 The stranger-guest pretends 
 To pay with profit, for his profiting. 
 In righteous measure. Hasten and come forth, our king! 
 
 Enter Theseus, attended. 
 Theseus 
 What is this general din, sounding anew, 1500 
 
 Loud from yourselves, and from the stranger plain? 
 
47° SOPHOCLES 
 
 Is it that bolt from Jove, or shower of hail, 
 Has burst upon you? Anything, while Heaven 
 Is raising such a storm, is credible. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 King, thou art here at need; yea, and some God 
 Has made thy coming hither prosperous. 
 
 Theseus 
 
 What is the new event which has arisen, 
 
 son of Laius? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 End of life to me. 
 And I am anxious not to die forsworn, 
 In what I promised to this city and thee. 
 
 Theseus 
 But under what death-symptom do you labour? 1510 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 The Gods are their own heralds, telling me, 
 Nothing belying of tokens fixed before. 
 
 Theseus 
 How do you say that this is shewn you, sir? 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 The frequent thunderings continuous. 
 
 And frequent -flashing arrows, from the hand 
 
 Invincible — 
 
 Theseus 
 
 You move me ; for I see 
 You are a mighty soothsayer, and your words 
 Do not come false. Say, then, what we must do. 
 
 CEdipus 
 
 1 will inform thee, son of ^geus. 
 
 Of what shall be in store for this thy city, 
 
OEDIPUS COLONEUS 471 
 
 Beyond the harm of time. Of my own self, 
 
 Without a hand to guide me, presently ' 1520 
 
 I will explore a spot, where I must die. 
 
 But never do thou tell to any man. 
 
 Where my grave is, or in what parts it lies ; 
 
 So shall its presence ever strengthen thee, 
 
 More than allies or troops of soldiery. 
 
 Meanwhile the secrets, which are mysteries 
 
 Not to be put in language, thou thyself 
 
 Shalt learn when thou goest thither, but alone ; 
 
 For not to any of these citizens. 
 
 Nor to my daughters, though I love them well. 
 
 Will I reveal them. Keep them to thyself; 1530 
 
 And, when thou art coming to the end of life, 
 
 Disclose them only to thy foremost friend, 
 
 And let him shew them, ever, to the man 
 
 That shall come after. So shall you inhabit 
 
 This city, unwasted by the earth-sprung seed ; 
 
 Though swarms of towns, however you may live 
 
 Good neighbours, lightly try to injure you. 
 
 For the Gods mark it well, though they are slow. 
 
 When a man turns to folly, and forsakes 
 
 Their service ; such experience, ^geus' son. 
 
 Do thou eschew; nay, what I preach, you know. 
 
 Now — to the place! The message from on high 1540 
 
 Urges me forth ; let us not linger now. 
 
 Here, follow me, my daughters ! in my turn, 
 
 Look, I am acting as a guide to you. 
 
 As you were mine, your father's. Come along ! — 
 
 Nay, do not touch me ; let me for myself 
 
 Search out the hallowed grave where, in this soil, 
 
 It is my fate to lie. Here, this way, come; 
 
 This way ! for Hermes the Conductor and 
 
 The Nether Queen are this way leading me. 
 
 O Light — my Dark — once thou wast mine to see ; 
 
 And now not ever shall my limbs again 1550 
 
 Feel thee ! Already I creep upon my way 
 
 To hide my last of life in Hades. Thou, 
 
 Dearest of friends — thy land — thy followers — all. 
 
472 SOPHOCLES 
 
 May you live happy; and in your happiness, 
 Fortunate ever, think of me, your dead ! 
 
 Exeunt CEdipus, Theseus, Antigone, Ismene, 
 and attendants. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 If sound of my prayers may rise unto Her who is hid from sight, 
 If worship of mine may approach thee, the King of the shadows of 
 
 night, 
 
 Aidoneus, Aidoneus — 1560 
 
 I entreat that this stranger 
 May pass right well, without sound of grief, by ii painless doom. 
 To the hiding-place of the dead beneath, and the Stygian home. 
 — Though many are the sorrows that visit thee, many thy labours in 
 
 vain, 
 It may be, a Power that is righteous intends to uplift thee again. 
 
 Hail, Queens of the realms of Earth ! All hail, the unconquered 
 
 frame 
 Of the Hound, that crouched, we were told, at the Gate whither all 
 men came. 
 
 And growled from its caverns, 1570 
 
 (So the story went ever,) 
 As Hades' champion and guard — whose steps, I pray, may be led 
 Far off, when the stranger comes to the nether abodes of the dead ! 
 — O Thou that art born of Earth, the begotten of the Deep, 
 Upon thee I call, the giver of unending sleep. 
 
 Enter a Messenger. 
 
 Messenger 
 
 Sirs, that I may, as much as possible, 
 
 Cut short my message — QCdipus is dead; 158° 
 
 But for what there befell, there are no words 
 
 To tell it in brief space ; nor was it brief, 
 
 All that was done. 
 
 I Citizen 
 Is the poor wanderer dead? 
 
OEDIPUS COLONEUS 473 
 
 Messenger 
 Yes, he is quit of his life trouble. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 How? 
 Was it a heaven-sent end — poor soul — and calm ? 
 
 Messenger 
 
 Truly the event is meet to wonder at. 
 
 First, in what fashion he set forth from hence. 
 
 Being present, you must have seen as well as I ; 
 
 None of his own playing the guide for him, 
 
 But he himself shewing us all the way. 
 
 Next, when he came to the precipitous stair, 1590 
 
 Bedded in the earth with brass-bound ramps of stone. 
 
 There, upon one of the diverging paths, 
 
 Nigh to the hollowed basin where are kept 
 
 The sure abiding tokens of the bond 
 
 'Twixt Perithous and Theseus, he stood still, 
 
 And midway thence to the Thorician rock, 
 
 Hard by the hollow pear-tree and tomb of stone. 
 
 He sate him down ; then doffed his grimy robe ; 
 
 And then, crying to his daughters, bade them bring 
 
 Waters to wash, and pour, out of some stream ; 
 
 Which twain, proceeding to the opposing slope 1600 
 
 Of green-clad Demeter, with small delay 
 
 Brought to their father that he sent them for ; 
 
 And washed him clean, and decked him out, in garb 
 
 Such as is used; and when he had his pleasure. 
 
 All being in train, and nothing yet remained 
 
 Unsatisfied of that which he desired, 
 
 Jove thundered from his caverns, and the maids. 
 
 As they heard, shivered ; and at their father's knees 
 
 Fell down, and wept, beating their breasts, and raised 
 
 Waitings prolonged, unceasing. He the while, 
 
 Soon as he heard the bitter note of woe, 1610 
 
 Folding his arms about them, said ; " For you. 
 
 My girls, this day there is no father more ; 
 
474 SOPHOCLES 
 
 For all things now are ended, which were mine ; 
 
 And now no longer need you bear for me 
 
 The burden of your hard tendance ; hard, indeed — 
 
 I know it, my children ; but one single word 
 
 Cancels the evil of all cares like this ; 
 
 Love, which ye had from no one, more than me ; 
 
 Of whom bereft, you for the future now 
 
 Must live what life you may.'' So they all wept, 1620 
 
 Clinging to each other, mourning loud ; but when 
 
 They came to an end of wailing, and the cry 
 
 Rose up no longer, silence reigned awhile. 
 
 Then suddenly some voice shouted his name ; 
 
 So that the hair of all stood up for fear ; 
 
 For a God called him — called him many times. 
 
 From many sides at once : " Ho, CEdipus, 
 
 Thou Q?"-dipus, why are we tarrying? 
 
 It is full long that thou art stayed for ; come !" 
 
 He, when he felt Heaven summoned him, bespake 
 
 That the land's king, Theseus, should come to him; 1630 
 
 And, when he came, said to him, " O dear friend, 
 
 Pledge me, in the ancient fashion, your right hand 
 
 To these my children, (and you, my girls, give him yours,) 
 
 And swear — never to yield them willingly, 
 
 But to perform all that you now intend, 
 
 In kindness, ever, that is good for them." 
 
 He, of his gentleness, agreed ; and sware, 
 
 (But not condoling,) to his guest, to do it. 
 
 And straightway as he sware it, CEdipus, 
 
 Touching with sightless hands his daughters, said : 
 
 "Now, children, you must leave this place; bear up 1640 
 
 In spirit, as befits your nobleness; 
 
 Look not upon the sights you may not see, 
 
 List not the voices which you must not hear. 
 
 But with all speed depart ; let no one stay 
 
 And see the event, only King Theseus." 
 
 While he thus spake, we hearkened, all of us ; 
 
 Then followed we the maidens, grieving sore, 
 
 With streaming tears. When we had gone apart, 
 
 After short space turning, we saw, far otf — 
 
OEDtPVS COLONEUS 475 
 
 The man, indeed, nowhere still visible — 
 
 Only the king's self, holding up his hand 1650 
 
 Over his face, so as to shade his eyes. 
 
 As if some sight of terror had appeared, 
 
 Awful, intolerable to gaze upon; 
 
 Then, in a moment, without interval, 
 
 We saw him kneel, worshipping Earth, and Heaven, 
 
 The abode of Gods, both in one act, together. 
 
 But he — what death he died, save Theseus' self 
 
 There lives not any mortal who can tell. 
 
 For neither any fire-fraught thunderbolt 
 
 Rapt him, from Heaven, nor whirlwind from the sea 1660 
 
 Stirred up to meet the moment; but some guide 
 
 Sent from above, or depth of the earth beneath 
 
 Opening to take him, friendly, without pain. 
 
 For not as of one mourned, or with disease 
 
 Grown pitiable, was his departure; but 
 
 If any ever was so, wonderful. 
 
 — If what I say seems folly, I can spare 
 
 The assent of those to whom I seem a fool. 
 
 I Citizen 
 And where now are his daughters, and those friends 
 Who did attend them? 
 
 Messenger 
 
 They, at least, not far; 
 For sounds of wailing unmistakeable 
 Declare them to be moving up this way. 
 
 Enter Antigone and Ismene. 
 I. I. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Alas, it is for us, it is for us to rue, 1670 
 
 Not once alone, but evermore anew, 
 Unhappy that we are, the fatal strains 
 Of our sire's blood implanted in our veins. 
 For whom, erewhile, 
 
476 SOPHOCLES 
 
 We ceaselessly endured a world of toil, 
 And have to tell, at last, of most unmeasured ill, 
 Beheld and suffered, still. 
 
 I Citizen 
 But what has happened ? 
 
 Antigone 
 
 You can guess it, friends. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 He is gone? 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Yes, as one would most wish for him. 
 — What wonder ? In whose way 
 Nor war nor ocean lay, 1680 
 
 But viewless regions rapt him home. 
 Sudden, by some mysterious doom. 
 While on our sight 
 The gloom of night, 
 Deathful and desolate, is come. 
 For how shall we sustain 
 Life's heavy load of toil. 
 Wandering o'er the billowy main. 
 Or on some foreign soil ? 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 ^ 
 
 I know not. O that with my sire's last tteath 
 
 I by some sudden death ' 1690 
 
 Might perish ! for the life that is to be 
 Seems worse than death to me. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 O children, worthiest pair, with what from heaven 
 
 Of good is given 
 Be not too much incensed ! The way by which you came 
 You have no cause to blame. 
 
 I. I. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Even the ills of life, it may be, we regret. 
 
 For what indeed was no-wise charmful, yet 
 
OEDIPUS COLONS US 477 
 
 Became, to me, a life not without charms. 
 The while I had my father in my arms. 
 
 O father dear, 1700 
 
 Wrapped evermore in nether darkness drear, 
 O not for thine old age mightest thou ever be 
 Unloved by her and me ! 
 
 I Citizen 
 He fared-? 
 
 Antigone 
 
 He fared even as he wished to do. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 How was it? 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Upon that foreign soil he chose 
 Died he ! For ever laid 
 Low, in the kindly shade, 
 He left behind no tearless grief, 
 No measured mourning, dull and brief. 
 These eyes are wet 
 With weeping yet, 
 Nor know I how to find relief. 1710 
 
 Oh not for thy desire 
 In a strange land to die, 
 Need'st thou have perished, O my sire, 
 Thus, with no loved ones by ! 
 
 Ismene 
 
 O wretched that I am ! What future fate 
 
 Me must await 
 And thee, my sister, lingering here alone, 
 And our dear father gone ! 
 
 Chorus 
 
 But now he is at last thus happily 17^° 
 
 From life set free. 
 Cease this lamenting, friends 1 From evils, in some shape. 
 No mortal can escape. 
 
 H. I. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Back let us haste, dear sister ! 
 
478 SOPHOCLES 
 
 ISMENE 
 What to do? 
 
 Antigone 
 
 A longing is upon me — 
 
 ISMENE 
 What? 
 
 Antigone 
 
 To view 
 The earth-bound home — 
 
 ISMENE 
 Of whom ? 
 
 Antigone 
 Of our sire — woe is me ! 
 
 ISMENE 
 But is it not forbid? Do you not see? 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Why should it make you chide? 1730 
 
 Ismene 
 
 This too, that— 
 
 Antigone 
 Well, what next? 
 
 ISMENE 
 
 Without a tomb. 
 
 Lonely, he died ! 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Take me to him, and slay me by his side! 
 
 Ismene 
 
 Alas, unhappy, whither should I flee. 
 To live, once more, a life of misery, 
 In the old loneliness and poverty ! 
 
 II. ■^. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Dear friends, fear nought! 
 
OEDIPUS COLONEUS 479 
 
 Antigone 
 Where should I shelter me? 
 
 I Citizen 
 Truly there was a shelter, long ago — 
 
 Antigone 
 How? 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 For your fortunes, that they should be free 
 From evil destiny. '74° 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Nay, that I know. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 What is it, then, that doubles your concern? 
 
 Antigone 
 
 'Tis that I know no way for our return 
 To our own home. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Care not to seek it! 
 
 Antigone 
 
 I am overcome 
 With weariness. 
 
 I Citizen 
 
 Time was, you were so. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Yea, 
 Sorely before, but now surpassingly. 
 
 1 Citizen 
 
 Truly it was yours to stem a stormy sea! 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Whither, O Jove, shall we direct our way? 
 Towards what point of hope— alas the day ! 
 Poth God impel me, and forbid my stay? 17.SO 
 
48o SOPHOCLES 
 
 III. 
 
 Enter Theseus, attended. 
 
 Theseus 
 
 Children, cease to lament; for griefs, where 
 Grace from the Nether Gods awaits us, 
 Blessing all fortunes. 
 Sorrow is causeless; nay, were sin. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 son of yEgeus, we are thy suppliants. 
 
 Theseus 
 
 For what boon, my children ? 
 
 Antigone 
 
 We too 
 Fain would look on our father's tomb. 
 
 Theseus 
 
 Nay, the approach to it is forbidden us. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 King, how say you, master of Athens? 
 
 Theseus 
 
 He, my children, gave me commandment 1760 
 
 That no mortal's foot should trespass 
 
 Near those precincts, 
 
 Or give name to the ark of refuge 
 
 Where he dwells ; which things, he told me. 
 
 Duly observing, 
 
 1 might evermore keep these confines 
 Free from annoyance ; 
 
 And so Heaven o'erheard me swear it, 
 And the omniscient Oath of Jove. 
 
 Antigone 
 
 Well, if such be the way he willed it. 
 
 Let that fully suffice. Now send us 
 
 Back to our ancient Thebes; it may be 1770 
 
OEDIPUS COLONS US 481 
 
 We may ward off ruin, impendent 
 O'er our brethren. 
 
 Theseus 
 
 I will do it at once, and all things. 
 Such as I purpose, for your service, 
 And his pleasure, our dead, this moment 
 Torn far from us; I may not tire. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Cease; no longer upraise your wailing; 
 All these promises shall not fail. 
 
 Exeunt omnes. 
 
 y. ^. 31 
 
NOTES 
 
 27. ^foi/f^o-i|Uos, "suitable for settlement," hence "hospitable in 
 appearance," must here mean inhabited, rather than habitable. 
 
 104. Ti ixeidvws Ix^ip may be either "too insignificant," that is, for 
 grace, or "not having yet suflTered enough." I follow the Scholiast. 
 
 150 — 152. This appears to me all one question; the "conjecture" 
 cannot refer to his being old and poor, which is self-evident ; therefore it 
 must refer to his having been born blind. I consider fw.Kpaiai' not as 
 " an old man," but " one destined for long life," as in Ani. 987, O. T. 
 1099. I do not follow Dindorf's reading, or punctuation. 
 
 195. I follow the MSS., ^ V«S ; 
 
 381. Ti/j.^ Ka6i^ov must I think embody a poetical antithesis with 
 /3i/3£v wphi oipav6v. "Shall keep down, or shall exalt to heaven, in 
 honour." The interpretation " shall possess in honour " misses this. 
 
 458. Dindorf's irpoiTTdTio-i seems to me questionable. The meaning, 
 however, is not greatly affected by its adoption. 
 
 475. I suppose ye to be inserted after olbs, with many good 
 authorities ; and I read Xa/SwK, not fiaXuiv, at the end of the line. The 
 Coloniate is handing to CEdipus the various implements. 
 
 513. (j>aiiel(Tai I think must be significant in this context ; it is the 
 remarkable revelation of the mystery which excites curiosity. 
 
 521. Mr Whitelaw reads Ukuv instead of kKiiv, in a note, but does 
 not translate it. The difficulty is, that it anticipates the next line. 
 Professor Jebb follows this reading, but translates, apparently, eKiliv. 
 I follow Dindorf in keeping iKu>p, though I must allow that fleis 
 tnTiii, in this context, appears misplaced. 
 
 541. I follow Hermann's explanation. 
 
 547. I follow the reading recommended by Professor Jebb (Mek- 
 ler's), which seems to effect a satisfactory solution of a serious difficulty 
 in the argument. 
 
 5, so. iirodToKiU seems preferable to i(f acrrdXri, because the Chorus 
 do not yet know that Theseus will do what CEdipus wants. 
 
 588. I read ra/uoO, not ij Vo"- 
 
 657. I adopt the explanation given by Professor Postgate of 
 l/iiraXiv, in an interesting note on some passages in this play, which 
 appeared in the Journal of Class, and Sac. Phil. X. 87. 
 813. I follow the MSS., not Dindorf's alteration. 
 858. Dindorf makes a question of this, apparently without neces- 
 sity. 
 
OEDIPUS CO LONE US 483 
 
 86'2. I follow Professor Jebb and others in giving this v. to the 
 Chorus. 
 
 882. Half a line has here disappeared, but the sense seems 
 evident. 
 
 1016. I read f^eipyaffnivoi (Prof. Jebb, from F. A. Schmidt,) not 
 
 1073. I take Yaiaoxo" as in 0. T, 160. Professor Jebb's objections 
 may possibly be met by considerations I have elsewhere urged ; see note 
 on P/iil. 314, &c. 
 
 1076. I follow the emendation dvTaffetv tS.v k.t.\. recommended by 
 Professor Jebb. 
 
 H13. I read KdvairaiffeTov, with the MSS. 
 
 1 1 18. The reading recommended by Professor Jebb (Wex's) 
 appears to me to have for the first time given a tolerable solution of the 
 difficulty involved in this line. 
 
 1348. I fail to see any plausibility in the supposed reference, under 
 piirai, to the stars. There is good evidence that the ancients used this 
 name for the Rhipasan hills ; and the fragment of Alcman, which calls 
 them the "bosom of deep Night," appears tolerably conclusive as to 
 the meaning here. Otherwise, "the blasts of Night" seems to me to 
 have quite sufficient connotation of a northerly origin for poetical pur- 
 poses. 
 
 1373. The attempt to explain the MSS. reading, by supposing 
 CEdipus to quibble here on the different values of words like &aTV and 
 TriXis, is to say the least unsuitable, if not disfiguring, to the context. 
 
 1424. I follow Professor Jebb in taking iKipipei. as 2nd pers. sing., 
 mid. , not 3rd pers., act. 
 
 i486. Antigone can hardly be intended to ask her father why he 
 wants to keep his senses ; nor yet, in view of his reply, to ask what he 
 would have Theseus promise him. I take t6 Tncrrbv actively (see 1. 
 1031) ; then reading with Hermann iiupvirai., and taking cj>pevl with 
 9Aois, which I think is justified by the fact of its repetition from the 
 preceding line, a tolerable meaning is obtained for a very difficult line, 
 not, I think, anywhere quite satisfactorily explained. 
 
 1570. I read iroKv^ivoL^ not TroXuf^irT-ois. 
 
 1662. I read oklnrTyrov, not dXti/iireTOJ'. 
 
 1712. I do not follow Dindorf in omitting this line. 
 
 I am not conscious of having appropriated any thing directly, in 
 this play, from the labours of previous translators. But I had become 
 familiar, before attempting it, with the best passages of Dean Plumptre's 
 version. 
 
 31—2 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 
 
 From the old Greek Lexicons of Photius, Suidas, Hesychius and 
 their brethren, from the grammatical writings of Phrynichus, Eustathius 
 and others, and from allusions scattered over the field of later Greek 
 literature, we derive the names of about loo lost dramas of Sophocles. 
 Quotations from these have also survived to us, and extracts, to the 
 amount of about nine hundred lines in all. The total of 963 so-called 
 fragments, as accumulated in Dindorf 's Poetce Scenici Grccci, to which 
 more have since been added, is made up by including hundreds of 
 notices of single Sophoclean words, taken from the Lexicographers and 
 grammatical writers, and also several allusions and passing notices. 
 Omitting these, and a few of the shorter passages, either hopelessly 
 corrupt, appareiitly spurious, or of no poetical importance, it has been 
 attempted in the following selection to include everything that can fairly 
 be considered capable of translation of these remains of Sophocles. 
 
 Of the sources from which extracts have been derived, the most im- 
 portant is the EclogcE, or Scrapbook, of StobEeus, or John of Stobi, u 
 village in Macedonia. He ajjpears to have been a cultivated gentleman 
 of the fourth or fifth century A.D., who devoted his leisure to the compila- 
 tion of a large work, in several books, of Elegant Extracts from Classical 
 Authors, arranged according to their subject-matter. The work was 
 intended for the use of his son, whom he was educating. The third 
 book, commonly called the Florilegium of Stobceus, consists of scraps of 
 poetry, chiefly of a moralizing tendency, of which a large portion are 
 drawn from the plays of Sophocles. Plutarch, especially in his Moralia, 
 stands next in importance of these sources ; and Athenssus, in the 
 Deipnosophistcs, third. Of the remainder a great part are furnished 
 by Scholiasts, that is, by the writers of old notes on the margins of 
 manuscripts, by way of illustration to passages on which they were 
 commenting. 
 
 No records have come down to us whereby the order of composition, 
 among the lost dramas, can be ascertained. The attempt to group them 
 jn tetralogies has proved a failure ; nor are there, except in a few cases 
 only, any means of discovering which of the titles preserved was that 
 of a Satyric play. 
 
 The arguments can in some cases be recovered from the mytho- 
 graphical writings of ApoUodorus, Parthenius, and others, among 
 Greek writers, and of Hyginus and his imitators among the Latins. 
 
 In the cases of plots drawn from the Epic Poets, they are furnished 
 
488 SOPHOCLES 
 
 us by Proclus. I follow an arrangement based upon that of Welcker, 
 (see Preface) whose reference numbers I have appended to the names of 
 the plays; those of Dindorf, Poetce Scenici Grteci, Oxf. 185 1, are pre- 
 fixed to the several fragments. 
 
 I take first a group of dramas on subjects belonging to Attic 
 tradition. 
 
 I. Attic Legends 
 Triptolemus, Orithyia, Terms, Creusa or Ion, jSgeus, Phadra. 
 
 The loss of the Triptolemus (48) is much to be regretted. It has 
 been argued from a passage in Pliny {Hist. Nat. XVIII. 12. i) that this 
 was one of the earliest plays by Sophocles ; perhaps the very drama by 
 which his reputation was established, when, on the bringing to Athens 
 of the remains of Theseus, a special appointment of arbitrators was 
 made, on the nomination of Cimon and the generals, to decide the prize 
 between himself and /-Eschylus. If this were so, the interest to an 
 Athenian audience of the subject-matter of the play may probably have 
 contributed to the victory of Sophocles over his great rival. Triptolemus 
 was an Attic hero, the founder of Eleusis, the place where the most sacred 
 rites of Athenian religion were celebrated. The interest of the plot may 
 have centred in the conspiracy of Cepheus against his life. But its 
 principal attractions must have lain in the entry of the hero, fresh from 
 his tour of the habitable world, riding in his flaming car, impelled by 
 
 538 
 
 Two dragons coiled about the axle tree 
 
 — in his account of strange races and distant lands, which he had visited, 
 sowing the corn, the gift of Demeler ; and in the procession to Eleusis 
 with which the drama probably concluded. From Dionysius of Halicar- 
 nassus (Antitj. i. 12) we learn how the Goddess came to Triptolemus 
 and despatched him on his beneficent errand. From her address, de- 
 scribing the route he was to take, we have 
 
 535 
 And on the tables of your memory 
 Set my words down. 
 
 527 
 And all that lies behind you, to the right, 
 And all CEnotria, and the Tyrrhene gulf, 
 And the Ligurian land, shall welcome you. 
 
 537 
 Then must you turn — 
 
 Elsewhere Triptolemus himself is speaking. We have allusions to 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 489 
 
 "Italy, blest with white wheat" (529), preserved in a translation by 
 Pliny, to Illyria (541), and to " the borders (or confines) of Carthage" 
 (SSfi)' "Charnabon, who now rules over the Getce" (528), we under- 
 stand from Hyginus {Poet. Astr. 1. 14) to have given him an inhospitable 
 reception, and slain one of his dragons, which was replaced by Demeter. 
 There is also in Strabo (xv. p. 687) a fragment of an unnamed drama, 
 probably belonging to this place 
 
 782 
 Whence I beheld, haunted by Bacchanals, 
 Renowned Nysa ; her the horned God, 
 lacchus, deems his foster-mother dear; 
 There no bird utters clamour — 
 
 and one in which there is a plagiarism from ^sch. Pers. 1 8 1 
 
 761 
 
 Meseemed it the two Continents approached 
 
 The purpose of his journey, the dissemination of corn-culture, ac- 
 counts for allusions to " pickled fish," " millet-seed," and " beer " ; and 
 to " the cup which has no foot, and cannot be set on table " (531, 534^ 
 533, 541) ; and to the same place, probably, we may refer 
 
 539 
 — and there, too, came. 
 Eldest of Gods, joyous Festivity. 
 
 An interesting passage referring to the Eleusinian procession may 
 perhaps be added, from Plutarch (Mor. pp. 98. A, 102. b) as restored by 
 Hermann ; 
 
 724. 743 
 March, all you folk, masters of handicrafts. 
 Who venerate the grim-eyed Queen of Toil, 
 Daughter of Jove, with baskets on your heads; 
 Who weld the lifeless matter with strong hands 
 Upon the anvil, docile to your blows 
 Under the heavy hammer : 
 
 And this, of the final blessedness of the initiated (Mor. p. 21. f) 
 
 719 
 Thrice happy they who to the grave depart 
 With eyes on these ends fixed ; they only, there. 
 Have life ; to the others all things there are evil. 
 
490 SOPHOCLES 
 
 There seems no sufficient foundation for the opinion that this was 
 a Satyric Drama. See Hygin. Fab. 147; Mythogr. Vat. II. 99; 
 ApoUod. I. 5. i. 
 
 In the Orithyia (47) the ravished maiden is canied by Boreas north- 
 wards (Strabo, vii. p. 295) 
 
 655 
 Far over all the main, to the ends of earth, 
 And to night's sources, and the expanse of heaven. 
 The ancient garden of Phoebus 
 
 And this, perhaps, from Cicero's letters (ad Att. vi. 16) is taken 
 from a description of the ravisher — 
 
 753 
 Not upon small fifes is he blowing, now, 
 But in fierce blasts, without a cheek-strap 
 
 See also Longinus de Subl. III. i. 
 
 In the Tereus (68) Sophocles handled the tragical story of Procne and 
 Philomela, a favourite one with him, since he alludes to it in many 
 passages of the extant plays. {Compare Hygin. 45.) From the opening 
 of the drama, from a speech of Procne, with which may be compared 
 that of Deianira which opens the Trachinive, Stobseus has preserved for 
 us, among several others, the beautiful passage, the most affecting 
 perhaps in all the remains of our poet, which describes the lot of woman 
 in a half-civilized community — 
 
 Now, by myself, I am nothing ; yea, full oft 
 
 I have regarded woman's fortunes thus, 
 
 That we are nothing; who in our fathers' house 
 
 Live, I suppose, the happiest life, while young, 
 
 Of all mankind ; for ever pleasantly 
 
 Does Folly nurture all. Then, when we come 
 
 To full discretion and maturity, 
 
 We are thrust out and marketed abroad. 
 
 Far from our parents and ancestral gods, 
 
 Some to strange husbands, some to barbarous. 
 
 One to a rude, one to a wrangUng home ; 
 
 And these, after the yoking of a night. 
 
 We are bound to like, and deem it well with us. 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 491 
 
 This, perhaps, Procne says to her sister — 
 522 
 
 — Much 
 I envy thee thy life ; and most of all, 
 That thou hast never had experience 
 Of a strange land. 
 
 One strophe of a Choric Ode, made up of two fragments, has come 
 down to us ; 
 
 518, 519 
 
 We, one race of mankind, by father, by mother. 
 All came forth to the light of the selfsame day; 
 
 No one man is born more great than another; 
 But some are fed with a bitter bread. 
 And some with health, and some with wealth, 
 And some bend under the forceful span 
 Of slavery's yoke ; for the life of man 
 Is changed and changed, in every breeze. 
 
 By the ingenious woes of our calamities. 
 
 And this is the conclusion of the corresponding antistrophe ; 
 718 
 
 — But where is the grace 
 Of the many things that are lovehest. 
 If an ill-designing thought in the breast 
 Fosters the wealth that renders fair our race ? 
 
 To this same Chorus we may with probability assign two other scraps 
 of lyric verse, of which the second is quoted by Stobteus as from 
 " the same place " as the end of the first strophe given above : 
 
 692 
 
 'Tis never well, among mankind, 
 Great wealth with wonder to survey ; 
 For a man sees life decay 
 From him, with as brief a day 
 As the poplar's slender rind. 
 
492 SOPHOCLES 
 
 68s 
 Might a man live, and give each hour 
 Its fill of pleasure ; but the morn 
 Creeps ever darkling on. 
 
 An invocation to the Sun, probably by Tereus, may have opened 
 the Prologue — 
 
 Sun, thou radiance 
 Foremost in honour with the sons of Thrace, 
 Lovers of horses 
 
 To the scene where Procne learns her sister's fate, probably from 
 a servant, Welcker assigns three fragments, the last quoted by Athenaeus 
 (l. p. 33. c) from an uncertain drama ; 
 
 Courage, speak truly, and thou shalt never stumble. 
 
 512 
 The whole barbarian race is money-loving. 
 
 696 
 
 O tongue, that has been silent all this while, 
 How wilt thou bear to tell thy story through ? 
 Sure nought is heavier than the exigence 
 Under whose stress thou must perforce reveal 
 The secret of our princes : 
 
 And to the Chorus, expostulating with her, 
 
 S2I 
 Terrible, Procne, truly; all the same. 
 Being mortals, we must bear with tolerance 
 What Heaven ordains 
 
 520 
 Do not shout yet, before you see him dead. 
 She is then seen 
 
 Hastening along, and in a coloured robe 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 493 
 
 After her catastrophe a messenger sums up, in a manner little 
 reconcilable with the sentiment usually attaching to the Sophoclean 
 Chorus, to whom I cannot agree in assigning this passage — 
 
 He was a fool ; but, in resisting him 
 
 With all their might, they were worse fools than he. 
 
 One in distress who, being enraged, applies 
 
 A remedy too strong for the disease — 
 
 He is no skilful leech of maladies. 
 
 The Chorus concludes thus: 
 
 Mortal born must think no thought 
 That becomes not mortal ; this 
 Knowing well, that there is none 
 Can assign, save God alone, 
 Of things future, what must be. 
 
 The plot of the Creusa or Ion (70) was probably similar to that of 
 the well-known drama of Euripides. The Chorus, consisting of hand- 
 maids of Creusa, might sing 
 
 324 
 
 I would not offer up my vows 
 
 For wealth at home, or wedded spouse ; 
 
 Beyond the usual measure ; 
 
 For slippery are the ways — 
 
 From speeches, probably, of Ion, we have 
 
 325 
 And do not wonder that I hold so close, 
 O king, to profit ; for even those of men 
 Who reach old age cling fast to profiting; 
 And beside riches, to mankind all else 
 Is second-rate; true, there are some esteem 
 A man in health; yet to me, no man poor 
 Appears to be in health, but always ailing. 
 
 326 
 The noblest life is that of righteousness ; 
 The best, freedom from sickness : pleasantest. 
 When every day one gets what one desires. 
 
494 SOPHOCLES 
 
 He is sent away, while the mystery is being declared — 
 
 Off, off my son ! this is not for your hearing. 
 A pretty fragment, quoted as from the Ion, is 
 
 298 
 'Tis only in Jove's gardens that we reap 
 The blessings of true happiness. 
 
 From other parts of the play four fragments survive : 
 296 (Nauck) 
 
 — it is a brave man's part 
 To bear all nobly. 
 
 321 
 This is most grievous, when, having the power 
 To order matters rightly, a man's own self 
 Brings and applies the mischief to himself 
 
 322 
 But he who boldly goes to meet the ill. 
 His tongue is honest, and his wits secure. 
 
 323 
 Truly, to tell lies is not honourable ; 
 But when the truth entails tremendous ruin, 
 To speak dishonourably is pardonable. 
 
 To this play, possibly belongs also 
 
 777 
 Eat laurel, chew it, bite it with your teeth: 
 
 that is, by way of preparation for giving an oracle. 
 
 Theseus, the hero-founder of Athens, was a favourite personage with 
 Sophocles. The treatment of his character in the CEdipus Coloneus is 
 well known ; there is also a play on his early adventures, the yEgais 
 (71), from which we have the description, by vEgeus, his father, of 
 the division of his grandfather Pandion's kingdom, preserved by Strabo 
 (IX. p. 392) 
 
 My father set apart for me to pass 
 
 Away to the seaside, apportioning me 
 
 The best part of this land ; to Lycus, second. 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 49S 
 
 He gave the opposite garden of Euboea ; 
 
 For Nisus he chose out the level ground 
 
 Of the Scironian coast; the land's south portion 
 
 Pallas has got, this hard-set giant-breeder. 
 
 The fifty tall sons of Pallas were the rivals of y'Egeus, and were 
 overcome by Theseus, aided by the treachery of Leos the crier. Sophocles 
 must have had a difficult task, to avoid wounding the susceptibilities 
 of those among his audience who belonged to the tribes which supposed 
 themselves to be named after /Egeus, Pallas, and I.eos. 
 
 A beautiful simile has been preserved by a scholiast on Od. 11. 106 ; 
 
 24 
 For as among the leaves of aspen tall, 
 Though nothing else be shaken, yet its head 
 Some zephyr stirs, and lightly lifts its wing : 
 
 The following, from Pollux, 10. 160, points to the manner in which 
 Theseus was made known to his father (Plut. Vit. 7%m.), namely, by his 
 drawing his sword "as if he designed to carve with it." 
 
 21 
 
 With a curved blade 
 He struck and clave down through the ribs and chine. 
 
 iEgeus addressing Theseus, after the recognition, says 
 
 How did you only 'scape the highwayman 
 As you went forth? 
 
 A minor character is thus announced : 
 
 22 
 I do not hear — I see — a countryman. 
 
 To the Legend of Theseus belongs also the Phcedra (Ti), of which 
 Stobzeus quotes several fragments, whence the course of the action is to 
 some extent traceable. This reads like a passage from the opening of 
 the drama : 
 
 607 
 Not on men only, nor on women, Love 
 Makes onslaught : but disturbs even the souls 
 Of Gods above us, and invades the sea. 
 
496 SOPHOCLES 
 
 To keep him off not even almighty Jove 
 Has power, but yields, and submits willingly. 
 
 To the same scene, probably, must be assigned the following fine 
 fragment of an uncertain drama, of which, indeed, the Sophoclean 
 authorship has been doubted ; but the reader shall judge whether it is 
 not worthy of him ; 
 
 678 
 
 My children, of a surety Cypris is 
 
 Not Cypris only, but bears many a name. 
 
 Death is her name, and Might imperishable. 
 
 And maniac Frenzy, and unallayed Desire, 
 
 And Lamentation loud. All is in her ; 
 
 Impulse, and Quietude, and Energy; 
 
 For in the bosoms of all souls that breathe 
 
 This Goddess is instilled. Who is not prey 
 
 For her? She penetrates the watery tribe 
 
 Of fishes : she is in the four-legged breed 
 
 Of the dry land ; in birds her wing bears sway. 
 
 In brutes, in mortals, in the Gods on high. 
 
 Which of the Gods does she not, wrestling, throw 
 
 Thrice over? If it be not blasphemy, 
 
 And I blaspheme not, saying what is most true. 
 
 She reigns in Jove's own bosom ; without spear. 
 
 Without a sword, Cypris cuts short all counsels, 
 
 Both human and divine. 
 
 For a graphic illustration of these last two passages see the beautiful 
 vase (British Museum, E. 325) representing Eros hovering over a hare ; 
 and compare Antig. 782, where I have ventured to give Kry/iaffi the 
 meaning which is more usually expressed by the form KT^vcffi, that is, 
 oxen and sheep. 
 
 We may ascribe to the Nurse 
 
 612 
 
 Sons are the anchors of a mother's life. 
 
 And to the ensuing dialogue with the Chorus 
 
 609 
 Pardon me, and pray keep silence. What is shame 
 To woman, help a woman to conceal. 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 497 
 
 611 
 Women, no mortal can escape disgrace, 
 On whom God pleases to send misery ; 
 Stricken from Heaven, we needs must bear our 
 plagues. 
 Hippolytus says, later in the action, 
 60s 
 For it is not right 
 A man of nobleness should please himself. 
 When he can take no pleasure righteously. 
 
 From a dispute, probably between him and Theseus, comes 
 606 
 
 For never can a city be secure 
 
 In which all justice and sobriety 
 
 Are trodden under, and a babbler wields 
 
 A rascal goad, and ministers the state. 
 
 From the description of Hippolytus, we have his hound — 
 619 
 
 He fawning low, laying his ears flat back — 
 
 And from the scene after the catastrophe 
 
 608 
 
 So then, no greater evil could there be 
 
 Than a bad wife; nought better, than one chaste. 
 
 But from his own experience each man judges. 
 
 610 
 Count, among mortals, every happy man, 
 You will not find one, who is really so. 
 
 Then remain two passages from the EclogcB Physicce of Stobajus, 
 of which it does not appear that both are taken from this play. The 
 first probably is not ; it is from a dialogue of some one with Theseus, 
 and we cannot with confidence ascribe it to Sophocles : 
 
 603 
 And so you lived ! You did not die, 
 When you went under the earth ! 
 Y. A. 32 
 
498 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Theseus 
 
 Nay, Destiny 
 Does not compel us ere our time. 
 
 The other is part of a Chorus : 
 
 604 
 
 The looms adamantine 
 
 Of Destiny weave 
 All sorts of devices 
 
 Men's souls to deceive; 
 They cannot be measured, 
 
 They cannot be fled ; 
 [They wait by his threshold, 
 
 They wait by his bed.] 
 
 The Theseus may possibly have been the same play as the foregoing; 
 but if it is to be identified with any other, the /Sgeus fits better with 
 the single fragment of it, from a speech by Theseus himself, which tells 
 how he 
 
 233 
 
 — going along the way by the sea-side 
 Cleansed it of savage monsters. 
 
 II. Miscellaneous Legends 
 
 Niobe, Tyro, Meleager, lolaus or lobates, Polyidus, Thamyras, 
 Hipponous, The Camicians. 
 
 The Niobe (46) was doubtless a remarkable play. The slaughter of 
 the children appears to have been treated as happening at two distinct 
 periods and places, that of the boys occurring first, at Thebes. We 
 have in Plutarch (Mor. p. 760 d), an allusion to the shout of one of 
 them, calling to his friend for help (393). Of the scene in which the 
 maidens and their nurse lamented their death survive two pathetic 
 passages ; the first sister says^ 
 
 399 
 I was the darling of the first of these- 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 499 
 
 And the nurse, recalling her cares, 
 400 
 
 With rags of thin-worn kirtles keeping them 
 Or warm, or cool; and taking up in turn, 
 After the night, toil upon toil by day. 
 
 The situation of the desolate mother so strongly impressed the poet, 
 that he recurs to it once and again in his surviving plays. Her apo- 
 strophe to Earth, as she feels herself turning into stone — 
 
 395 
 I come; why dost thou call me? 
 
 was quoted, with some affectation, by Zeno the Stoic, on the occasion of 
 the fall which caused his death. 
 
 The story of Tyro, of her unwitting union with Poseidon, and of her 
 eventual deliverance by her twin sons, Pelias and Neleus, from the 
 tyranny of her step-mother Sidero, became the subject of two dramas 
 to our poet ; or more probably of a single drama, the Tyro (49) which 
 was twice edited. See ApoUod. Bibl. 1. 9. The second edition 
 opened thus — 
 
 578 
 What bird is this which cometh forth abroad? 
 
 From the early part of the play, in which Tyro is lamenting her case, 
 we have one passage of some beauty, preserved by ^lian, N. A. 11, 18. 
 
 587 
 But I go mourning for my tresses lost. 
 Like a she-colt, caught by the husbandman, 
 Which in the stables to a ruthless hand 
 Yields from her neck an auburn harvesting; 
 Then, ranging in the water-meadows, sees, 
 Pictured beneath the surface of the stream, 
 The image of her shadow, with the hair 
 Shamefully cropped, dishevelled all, and torn; 
 Oh even a pitiless heart might pity her. 
 Such is her frenzy, shuddering for shame. 
 Moaning and mourning for her ravished mane. 
 
 32—2 
 
500 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Another puns upon the name of Sidero — 
 
 593 
 But she is warlike — she is one who plainly 
 Has used cold steel — she has it in her name ! 
 
 Another, from Athenaeus, xi. p. 475 A, mentions snakes as the 
 inmates of her prison 
 
 580 
 
 — That serpents should be there, in presence, 
 Upon the table, with the meat and drink ! 
 
 We are told that the mask of the character was disfigured to show 
 traces of blows. The hideousness of such a make-up, here and in the 
 last scene of the QEdipus, was no doubt palliated, to Greek eyes, by its 
 appearing as a reversion to the archaic. The actors, before masks were 
 invented, stained their faces with the lees of wine. 
 
 584 
 Despondency produces sickness too. 
 
 582 
 
 Do not bespatter with a shower of words 
 Your present fortune; it is one full meet 
 To be bewailed in silence. 
 
 According to Schneidewin, we should place here, and not in the 
 Tereus, 520 quoted above, p. 492. But there is no death of a male 
 victim here, in the catastrophe. 
 
 From the scene of the recognition, which was brought about by a 
 reference to the boat in which the children were exposed, we have 
 
 581 
 
 — A soul in trouble 
 Sees many things when it is laid to sleep. 
 
 586 
 Age and delay teach all things — 
 
 583 
 Yet in the multitude of many men 
 Neither is a man found worthy, who is well-born, 
 Nor son of the exceeding worthless, base; 
 But nothing, in a mortal, is assured. 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 501 
 
 The Meleager (75) is a play rather conjectured to exist, from aUusions 
 to the story, than actually quoted. The following couplet may be from 
 the prologue — 
 
 357 
 
 On CEneus' fields a boar of monstrous size 
 The archer-goddess, Leto's daughter, sent. 
 
 lolaus (67), lohates (79), Iphicles (82) ox lodes; all these names have 
 been found or conjectured. The first would be a play on the story of 
 the Heracleids, the second on that of Bellerophon. The following 
 fragment is ascribed to the second ; 
 
 280 
 Not even old age has learnt to love the tomb. 
 
 And this is from either lolaus or lodes 
 
 Go with good cheer, and may you speed 
 As well as I well wish you ! 
 
 The story oi Polyidus or The Seers, (78) is as follows; Glaucus, the 
 son of Minos and Crete, while yet a child, in chasing a butterfly, fell 
 into a honey-pot, and was lost. His father consulted the Curetes, the 
 priests of Jove ; who reminded him of a remarkable three-coloured cow 
 he had in his possession, white, red, and black, and promised that 
 the man who should best say what the three colours of the cow's hide 
 were like, should be able to restore him his son, in life. The puzzle 
 was solved by Polyidus, a seer, who compared the cow's colours to 
 those observed in succession in a mulberry-bush — 
 
 698 
 
 First you will see it blooming white, in flower, 
 
 Next reddened, in the rounded mulberry, 
 
 Next an old age as black as Egypt meets you — 
 
 Whereupon the task is allotted to him, of which, some one says to 
 him — 
 
 463 
 You never will attain 
 To the summit without labour — 
 
 to find the lost boy : and this he undertakes with the help of divination. 
 At the sacred rite, he says. 
 
S02 SOPJIOCLES 
 
 465 
 Were present fleece of sheep, and from the vine 
 Drink offerings, and raisins well preserved ; 
 Fruits of all sorts, mingled with barley-cakes, 
 And olive-oil, and that most intricate 
 Wax-moulded fabric of the tawny bee. 
 
 And, from the last mentioned — 
 
 467 
 He who came forth was the dead corpse, my bane. 
 
 The hardest part of his task yet remained, namely, 
 
 359 (Nauck) 
 To open the closed portal of the soul. 
 
 This he effected with the help of a herb, of which he saw the same 
 use made by a serpent, whose companion he had himself killed in 
 protecting the body. This queer fairy-tale was the subject of plays both 
 by Sophocles and Euripides. There is no authority for considering 
 them satyric dramas. See ApoUod. Bibl. III. 3; Hygin. 136. 
 
 The special interest of the Thamyras (80) arises from its having been 
 one of the plays in which, according to Athenseus, Sophocles himself 
 acted ; he sustained, we are told, the part of a harp-player in a solo, 
 perhaps that of Thamyras himself; and from this circumstance was 
 depicted, in the Poecile, with a harp in his hand. The hero, elected 
 king of Thrace for his skill as a musician — of the land that lies under the 
 shadow of that 
 
 229 
 
 Thracian watch-tower, of Athoan Jove — 
 
 is said to have contended with the Muses in song; he was worsted, and 
 forfeited to them both his eyesight, and his art. See //. B. 599. In 
 magnifying the more perfect music Thamyras had imported from Greece, 
 some one speaks contemptuously of the old fashioned Thracian instru- 
 ments — 
 
 227 
 
 Gone is the twanging melody of the shell, 
 
 The lyre, the pipes, in which we joyed till now — 
 
 I follow Nauck's emendation so far, but the fragment is too imperfect 
 for us to be sure of its full meaning. Another tells us of 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 503 
 
 228 
 
 The jointed lyres, the psalteries, 
 The dulcet zither's carven frame 
 Known to the Greeks — 
 
 A triangular harp or zither is also mentioned. When defeated, 
 Thamyras is introduced taking vengeance on his instruments — 
 
 232 
 
 Breaking the gold-bound horn — 
 
 Breaking the harmony of the string-strained lyre. 
 
 To these may be added, from Plutarch, Moral, p. 1093 D, a 
 fragment unintelligible as it stands, describing a poetical frenzy — 
 
 747 
 — by a mordant monster muse-inspired 
 Do I burst forth; and to the rock I come — 
 — from the lyre, and from the strains 
 
 "Which Thamyras sings with art preeminent " — See Professor Jebb's 
 note on 0. T. 1220. 
 
 In the Hipponous (81), it is told us, contrary to his usual habit, 
 Sophocles allowed the Chorus to speak, as in a Parabasis, out of 
 character. Some one addresses the unfortunate Periboea — 
 
 284 
 
 Wherefore hide nothing ; for all things are disclosed 
 By the all-beholding and all-hearing Time. 
 
 She says — 
 
 28s 
 
 I come from the Olenian pasture-land. 
 
 281 (Nauck) 
 For saving medicines are not everywhere 
 To be discovered, but by forethought only. 
 
 For the story see ApoUod. Bibl. I. 8. 
 
 The scene of the Camicians, or Minos, (83) is laid at Camicus, 
 afterwards Agrigentum, where Daedalus found refuge after his escape 
 from Crete. Minos pursues him, and pleads against him before Cocalus 
 the king of the country. He describes how Daedalus came to him for 
 
504 SOPHOCLES 
 
 refuge after the slaughter of Perdix, and relates his ingratitude. 
 Doadalus defends himself, and tells how he escaped from Crete; on 
 wings, to wit, that 
 
 3°3 
 Lift me, and bear my frame right faithfully. 
 
 The catastrophe must have been the scalding to death of Minos in 
 his bath by the daughters of Cocalus. Hygin. 40, 44. Other passages 
 are — this, of the shells through which the clue of the labyrinth was 
 suspended 
 
 299 
 
 — Of this sea-snail, my daughter, 
 If we can find one — 
 
 302 
 To those who move not, fortune is no friend. 
 
 3°4 
 He who when young cares nought for song 
 Is lost to all the time that's past. 
 And dead to all that follows. 
 
 This last is by some given to Euripides. 
 
 III. Story of Athamas 
 
 Athamas, Phrixits, Ino. 
 
 There is a series of plays upon the story of Athamas and his family, 
 preliminary to the Argonautic Cycle. Of the two bearing the name 
 of Athamas only one line has survived. The first play (51) we must 
 suppose to have embodied the story of Nephele ; and Athamas, in the 
 catastrophe, 
 
 5 
 Being childless — wifeless — and without a home 
 
 stands crowned with the sacrificial wreath before the altar of Zeus 
 Laphystius — a celebrated situation with the ancients, which gave its 
 name to the play — about to be slain by the Achaeans in requital for the 
 supposed death of Phrixus. The subject may have been suggested by 
 the remarkable passage Herod, vn. 197, which gives one version of the 
 final event. The second Athamas, unless it were merely a new edition 
 of the first, dealt probably with the story of Ino, and may in that case 
 be identified with it (jj). A wonderful story told in Hygin. 4, is more 
 probably the plot of the Ino of Euripides. 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 505 
 
 The Phrixus {50) has also perished, but with the exception of one 
 spirited line — 
 
 646 
 Hound-like they howled, as it were whimpering 
 (Blomfield's emendation). There is also a second — 
 
 647 
 Goal of our journey, precincts of this land — 
 
 whence we may conclude that the subject was the fate of Nephele's 
 children in Colchis. 
 
 IV. The Argonauts 
 
 The Lemnian Wojnen, Pkineus, Tympanistm, Women of Colchis, 
 Scythians, Rootgatherers. 
 
 This series of plays belongs to the story of Jason and the Argonauts. 
 Their adventures in Lemnos are the subject of the Lemnian Women 
 (53) J in which one strange line seems to refer to an image of a cow, set 
 up in the island — 
 
 348 
 — Athos shadows o'er 
 The broad back of the Cow of Lemnos' isle. 
 
 The Phineus (54), a play twice edited, yields nothing but some 
 allusions to a " dried Egyptian mummy," (636) and to the ' 'water of the 
 Scythian Bosphorus," (637) and the comparison of an eye to a tavern- 
 door, (635) which savours of comedy. The Tympanist(2, which may 
 possibly be the second edition of the Phineus, affords Stobseus a pretty 
 bit. We may suppose that Idothea, the second wife of Phineus, is 
 coaxing the Argonauts to remain ; 
 
 563 
 Heigh-ho ! what greater joy could you receive 
 Than to reach land, and then, under some roof, 
 In slumberous mood, listen to the pouring hail ! 
 
 Aristophanes, Plut. 635, quotes from this play 
 
 634 
 
 Find a kind healer in Asclepius. 
 
 In the Women of Colchis (55) we have the exploits of Jason, and the 
 loves of him and Medea. She says 
 
So6 SOPHOCLES 
 
 313 
 
 — Do you promise, with an oath, 
 To return kindness? 
 
 She tells him the story of Prometheus (315). 
 
 From a scene with a messenger, who relates how Jason has fared, 
 we have 
 
 319a 
 The flame-blast started forth 
 Upon its track unfraught with radiance 
 
 where I follow Professor Postgate's excellent emendation ; and 
 
 3195 
 You would have been surprised to see 
 The golden blast of flame, shining from far. 
 
 A passage of which part is lost tells how " with limbs of brass they 
 breathe out from their lungs — and their nostrils blaze " — (320). ^etes 
 then says — 
 
 314 
 Did not the offspring of the earth forth-spring ? 
 Mess. Ay truly, bristling fierce, with a plumed crest. 
 
 In arms of brass, forth from their mother's womb 
 Dauntless they sprang ! 
 
 No special place can be assigned to the saw 
 
 311 
 'Tis well one who is mortal should so think 
 As fits mankind. 
 
 In the Scythians (56) the fortunes of Medea are further pursued. An 
 interlude in tetrameters speaks of her and Absyrtus ; whose fate, as may 
 be conjectured from the name of the play, constituted its principal 
 subject. 
 
 491 
 For they sprang not from one wedlock \ but the later- 
 born, the lad, 
 Was the offspring of a Nereid ; and the girl Idyia had. 
 Long before, old Ocean's daughter 
 
rzffi LOST DRAMAS s°1 
 
 From the Rootgatherers, or Pelias (57), there is a single line which 
 probably stood thus originally (Welcker's reading) 
 
 433 
 'Twas no white milk that fed her infancy ! 
 
 We have also two fine anapaestic fragments. The first is an 
 incantation, found in a Scholiast on ApoUonius Rhodius ; 
 
 480 
 
 Sun our Master, and Holy Flame, 
 Spear of Hecate, the way-side Dame, 
 Borne by her, through Olympus riding. 
 Or in sacred cross-ways of Earth abiding, 
 Crowned with oak-wreaths, and coils enwoven 
 Of savage serpents — 
 
 The other depicts, as by a flash of lurid lightning, the terrible 
 enchantress in the wood : its preservation is due to Macrobius ; 
 
 479 
 She turned her eyes from the deed 
 Backward — she cropped the weed — 
 She squeezed forth the juice milk-white. 
 She caught it in coffers bright. 
 
 And the boxes' covers hide 
 
 The pieces of root inside, 
 
 Which she, with clamour and crying. 
 
 Naked, was chopping, plying 
 
 Her sickle's brazen blade. 
 
 V. Story of Telephus 
 
 Aleadm, Mysians, Telephus. 
 
 There are two dramas, possibly three, on the story of Telephus. 
 The Aleada (76) has survived in a large number of comparatively 
 uninteresting fragments, from which Welcker has conjectured with 
 much ingenuity that the plot was something as follows. Aleus, king of 
 Tegea, having caused to be exposed Telephus, the son of Auge his 
 daughter, by Hercules, on account of an oracle, which declared that the 
 son of Auge should be the death of his own sons, the infant Telephus 
 has been suckled by a hind upon the mountains, and returns to Tegea, 
 
5o8 SOPHOCLES 
 
 to claim the honours of his descent at the hands of his uncles, 
 Hippothous and Nereus. He relates the story of his miraculous foster- 
 nurse; how 
 
 110 
 
 — a wild antlered hind came slowly down 
 From the precipitous hills — 
 
 Lifting her nostrils and her antler-tynes 
 Softly she stole — 
 
 and a long debate ensues, to which the following may be ascribed : 
 Telephus says — 
 
 98 
 
 Then indeed all the affairs of life grow rotten, 
 
 When men are minded to cure wrong with wrong. 
 
 99 
 It is not easy to withstand the just. 
 
 100 
 To feign is base, and is not gentlemanly. 
 
 lOI 
 
 Yea, and a righteous tongue has mighty strength. 
 On the other side of the question we have 
 
 102 
 Be silent, boy ; silence has many beauties. 
 103 
 Why make you 
 Matter of this for many speeches more? 
 Excess of words is grievous everywhere. 
 
 104 
 Search not out all things ; it is good that much 
 Should be unknown. 
 
 Telephus complains that the cause is going against him, in words 
 which have by no means lost force, with many centuries of practical 
 application ; 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 509 
 
 109 
 
 Riches gain friends, gain honours, too, for men. 
 Yea, gain a seat most pleasant, in the chairs 
 Of topmost sovereignty. Moreover none 
 Grow hostile toward riches ; and even those 
 Who have so grown renounce their enmity. 
 For riches have a formidable way 
 Of creeping into spots inviolable 
 And hard to reach; and into places where 
 A poor man could not, even if he came thither. 
 Obtain what he desires. An ugly body 
 And of bad fame riches make wise of speech 
 And comely to behold. To them alone 
 Belongs the power of good and evil cheer, 
 And to conceal misfortunes. 
 
 He seems finally to abandon the attempt to establish his descent by 
 proof. 
 
 107 
 
 Pause there. It is sufficient to be called 
 This father's son — if I am really so. 
 And if I am not, so much the worse for me. 
 Repute is stronger than reality. 
 
 He relies on his apparent worth and prowess, 
 
 108 
 
 Are bastards equal to legitimate? 
 All excellence has a legitimate birth. 
 
 He threatens violence at last — 
 
 106 
 
 No man, I think; but look, whether it be not 
 Better, even impiously, to beat one's foe. 
 Than to be told I am myself a slave. 
 
 After this would follow the slaughter of the Alead^ ; the Chorus 
 would naturally take their part, and lament the catastrophe ; 
 
510 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Nor know I what to say, to cure it ; 
 
 When the good give place 
 
 To those who are base, 
 What city could well endure it? 
 
 How the play ended, we are not told ; but possibly by the appear, 
 ance of Hercules, and the announcement on his part, of his paternal 
 relation to Telephus. 
 
 In The Mysians or Telephtts (77) the fortunes of Telephus are 
 further pursued. He seems to have been sent to Mysia by his father, 
 in order that he might find his mother Auge, who had been adopted by 
 Teuthras. The plot must have turned upon the narrow escape Telephus 
 there had of being wedded to his own mother ; but all ends happily, 
 with a recognition between the mother and son (Hygin. 100.) On land- 
 ing, he is answered by some passer-by — 
 
 360 
 
 Sir, Asia the whole continent is called, 
 The Mysians' state, though, is named Mysia. 
 
 He replies ; 
 
 How sweet it is to the unfortunate. 
 Even for a little period, to forget 
 The ills that stand about them ! 
 
 Here is an anticipation of Milton ; 
 
 361 
 
 And many a Phrygian dulcimer, and crash 
 
 Harmonious, of the Lydian psaltery, 
 
 Sounds to it, in linked measures, long drawn out. 
 
 Asiatic properties are introduced ; 
 
 362 
 Armlets, tiaras, and an ermine robe. 
 
 And the Chorus, towards the conclusion, say 
 
 359 
 No man from toil has perfect rest \ 
 He who has least, is happiest, 
 
I HE LOST DRAMAS 511 
 
 VI. Story of Perseus 
 Acrisius^ Danae, Andromeda, Larissaans. 
 Argos furnished three cycles of legend previous to the Trojan war, 
 from which Sophocles took subjects. In the Acrisius (59), with which 
 the Danae may perhaps be identified, but not, I think, the Larissaans, 
 we have the discovery and condemnation of the princess. To the early 
 part of the play must belong 
 
 58 
 Some one calls : listen ! Or do I bark in vain ? 
 To him who is in fear everything rustles. 
 
 59 
 No falsehood lingers on into old age. 
 
 60 
 A runaway slave, who has had fetters clapped 
 Upon his limbs, in all things, obviously. 
 Speaks what will please his master. 
 (Nauck's reading.) From the latter part we have — 
 
 62, 61 
 Brief speech becomes those who think soberly. 
 In presence of their mothers and their sires : 
 Specially a maiden, and of Argive race. 
 Whose glory is in silence, and few words. 
 One fragment is quoted as from the Danae; Acrisius says 
 176 
 Your trouble I know not; but one thing I know, 
 If this boy lives, I perish. 
 
 63 
 Lady, cheer up; most of our ills, blowing loudly 
 In dreams by night, grow milder when 'tis day. 
 This is probably from a dialogue between Danae and Acrisius ; 
 
 64> 65 
 — No man loves life like him that's growing old. 
 — Yet life, my child, is the best boon of all. 
 ^Yet the same persons cannot die twice over, 
 
512 SOPHOCLES 
 
 66 
 Nor can the living aid the man that's dead, 
 Seeing that himself must die. 
 
 The Andromeda (60) survives in the question to Perseus 
 
 129 
 On steeds, or wherries, are you voyaging? 
 
 A bold trope is 
 
 130 
 
 Nowise to dread fresh-reeking letters. 
 There is also an interesting passage on sacrifices ; 
 
 132 
 
 For the State 
 She, as a bloody passover, was slain ; 
 For savages have the custom, from of old. 
 To pay to Cronos human sacrifice. 
 
 (Scaliger's emendation.) 
 
 In the Larissaans (61) the story of Acrisius is concluded. Besides 
 one forcible line 
 
 67 
 
 How all men strive to shun a tyrant's face ! 
 
 there are two passages from a speech of Perseus, or of a messenger, 
 describing the catastrophe at the court of Teutamidas ; 
 
 68 
 And many a contest for all comers he 
 Proclaims; setting forth cauldrons for a prize 
 Of beaten brass, and hollow drinking-cups 
 Of solid silver, or of parcel-gilt. 
 To the number of twice sixty. 
 
 69 
 
 And to me, who threw third, a man of Dotis 
 Came close, named Elatus, in the disk-throwing. 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 513 
 
 VII. Wars of Argos and Thebes 
 Epigoni, Eriphyle, AlcmiBon, Amphiaraus. 
 Of dramas on subjects from the wars of Argos and Thebes there 
 are, besides the three plays on the story of CEdipus which have come 
 down to us, first the Epigoni, {41), which however it is difficult to dis- 
 tinguish from the Eriphyle, and the Alcmccon {\i). One of them 
 must have been a drama on the slaughter of his mother by Alcm^eon, in 
 requital of her betrayal of his father Amphiaraus. To the opening of 
 this play Welcker assigns the following singular fragment quoted by 
 John of Damascus; the Sophoclean authorship of which is however 
 doubtful. 
 
 779 
 Novc that the office of the God, my sons, 
 Has all been duly done, let us begone 
 Unto the school, the Muses' nursery. 
 We must be gaming something every day, 
 As long as we can better what we know. 
 Boys, without fee, know how to do amiss, 
 Learning it of themselves right easily; 
 While good, not even if they go to school 
 Know they by heart, but hardly compass it. 
 This, then, let us regard, and let us toil, 
 O children, that we may not seem to be 
 The sons of untaught men, yea, of a sire 
 Who dwells in foreign regions. 
 
 To fit this passage into some known subject of tragedy, we must 
 find a pious father long absent from home, and a group of sons, of an 
 age to be addressed by a tutor, or by one of their own number, as 
 above. This agrees with the situation of Alcmaeon, Amphilochus, and 
 the other sons of Amphiaraus. The fate of the father is described — 
 
 781. 
 
 The soil of Thebes 
 Split, and received him, with his arms, his team. 
 Chariot and all. 
 
 From an address to Eriphyle comes 
 
 O thou unscrupulous, and worse ! O woman ! 
 
 No other of all evils mortals own 
 
 Is there, or ever can be, worse than — woman ! 
 
 Y, A, 33 
 
5 14 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Other fragments cannot so easily be placed ; 
 
 194 
 
 For in the case of those whom envy follows, 
 Dishonour is more apt to conquer them 
 In shameful actions, than in honourable. 
 
 From the Eriphyle are quoted : 
 
 202 
 But virtue's treasures are alone secure. 
 
 203 
 For brave men's breasts grow not effeminate. 
 
 204 
 But when it is not lawful 
 To speak with freedom what is for the best. 
 And the worse counsel in a state prevails, 
 There errors lead astray the common weal. 
 
 205 
 How can I, a mortal, fight with Providence? 
 When the pinch comes, hope is of no avail. 
 (Nauck's reading.) 
 
 206 
 Keep to good words, now you attain old age. 
 
 207 
 
 — Away ! 
 Sleep is physician of that malady. 
 
 209 
 
 tongue, among what people thou hast honour 
 Where words are of more force than actions ! 
 
 The following are ascribed to the Alcmceon; 
 
 95 
 
 1 would that I might see you aiming well. 
 Hitting your mark in honest sentiments. 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 515 
 
 And from a dialogue between Alcmseon and Adrastus, given by 
 Plutarch, without author or play: 
 
 — You are her brother, 
 Who slew her spouse ! 
 
 — And you the murderer 
 Of your own mother, who bare you ! 
 
 There is also n. Satyric drama on the story of Amphiaraus. The 
 fragments are 
 
 116 
 He who is, to this prophet-company, 
 As crab to pinna — 
 
 122 
 Dogskin, and hide of a dun cow that lowed — 
 
 It is not clear what incident in the story of Amphiaraus could have 
 been made a subject for burlesque, or how such a play could well have 
 been associated with a trilogy on the subject of the Theban war. 
 
 VIII. Legends of the House of Atreus 
 
 (Enomaus, Atreus or The Mycenmans, Thyestes. 
 
 In the CEnomaus (62) the winning of Hippodamia by Peleus, and 
 the death of Myrtilus the charioteer, constituted the action. From the 
 threats of the cruel CEnomaus we get three words 
 
 420 
 
 Having afforded, in his scalp cut off, 
 A napkin, Scythian -fashion ! 
 
 The fierce Hippodamia declares her love for Pelops,— in the best 
 lines of all those preserved to us by Athenseus 
 
 421 
 A touch of love so winning in his face 
 Has he — a certain lightning of the eyes ; 
 First he himself is kindled, then me too 
 He inflames all through; measuring his glance by 
 
 mine, 
 Even as the craftsman's ruler is laid straight, 
 While he marks out the line. 
 
 33—3 
 
5i6 SOPHOCLES 
 
 From the scene in which the plot is laid comes 
 
 419 
 But when an oath is added, then the soul 
 Is made more careful; for it has two things 
 To guard against ; both the reproach of friends, 
 And sin against the gods. 
 
 Pelops must have listened to the warning reminding him of the 
 frustrated anticipations of mother after mother, that 
 
 418 
 
 — she would have borne a son 
 Swifter than he; she one, swifter than he. 
 
 And this being in vain — 
 
 422 
 — I see you, with a scraper. 
 Clipping from a bay horse his staring coat. 
 
 Two fragments besides contain some poetry : 
 
 423 
 Were I an eagle soaring high. 
 
 So might I fly 
 Over the barren silvery main, 
 Far as the swell of the ocean plain — 
 
 424 
 
 The breezes blow — but the hen marks them not, 
 Save when the time is come for her to lay. 
 
 We are told that ^schines the orator sustained, when on the 
 boards, the part of QJnomaus in this play. 
 
 Of Atreus or The Mycenxans (63) we have only, from the quarrel 
 of Atreus and Thyestes — 
 
 144 
 
 No, by his cowardice I swear. 
 On which he battens, being himself a woman. 
 With men for foes ! 
 
 And from the uncertain fragments 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 517 
 
 764 
 The boys whom I begat he has destroyed. 
 And perhaps, referring to the portent of the sun's turning backward 
 
 771 
 But every man respects 
 Him who turns back the circle of the sun. 
 
 Thyestes in Sicyon (64, 65) is another drama which appears to have 
 been twice edited. At least it is not easy, from the story in Hyginus, 
 88, to which we must refer, to collect the material for two separate 
 dramas. The fragments are uninteresting, except this description of 
 the fabulous vine of Eubcea, preserved by a Scholiast on the PhanisscE 
 of Euripides: 
 
 239 
 — For there is a land, Eubcea, 
 By the sea-side; there grows ephemeral 
 The vine of Bacchus ; first in morning bright 
 The place luxuriates with fair-petalled flowers; 
 Next, mid-day fills up the interior mass 
 Of the unripe fruit ; then comes the afternoon, 
 And the branch takes a darker hue ; at even 
 All the fair-flourishing vintage is cut down. 
 And ferments into wine. 
 
 From Stobseus come a handful of the moralizing extracts in which 
 he revels ; 
 
 234 
 Not Ares, even, withstands necessity. 
 
 235 
 Let us be going with speed. It cannot be 
 Blame should e'er fasten on a righteous haste. 
 
 236 
 It has annoyances, I know : but still, 
 We must endeavour to endure, as best 
 We may, the hard necessities of life. 
 We needs must gain some healing, from such methods. 
 
 237 
 For even in words there is a pleasure, when 
 They cause oblivion of our present ills. 
 
51 8 SOPHOCLES 
 
 238 
 — Though an old man : but sense, and skill to adorn 
 At need, are wont to accompany old age. 
 
 A sophistical fragment, more in the manner of Euripides, I derive 
 from Nauck's edition, fr. 227 : 
 
 For none is wise save him to whom God pays 
 
 honour ; 
 But he who looks towards heaven, even though it 
 
 bid him 
 Overstep right, must set himself to obey; 
 For nought is shameful, when prescribed by heaven. 
 
 IX. Stories from the Cypria 
 
 Alexander^ Ulysses Furens, Lovers of Achilles, Scyrian Women, Demand 
 
 of Helen, Iphigeneia, Muster of the Achceans, Shepherds, 
 
 Troilus, Palamedes. 
 
 In a well-known passage of Athenaeus (vii. 3, p. 277) the fondness 
 of Sophocles is noted for subjects drawn from the Trojan cycle of the 
 Epic poets ; and, as is further remarked by the author of the Life of 
 Sophocles, especially from Homer's Odyssey. About 40 plays in all 
 belong to these classes. The ten above-mentioned belong to the Cypria, 
 or story previous to the Iliad. The Alexander (i) seems to have been a 
 play on the recognition of Paris, frs. 90, 91. From the Ulysses Furens 
 (2), a play on the subject of the feigned madness of Ulysses, as detected 
 by Palamedes, we have, probably spoken by Agamemnon, 
 
 411 
 Now you know all; I have spoken as I was bidden; 
 For, in the style of the Argive tongue, a tale 
 Is brief, even to conciseness. 
 
 The adventures of Achilles in Scyros occupied two plays, one 
 Satyric, from which comes a celebrated simile, which fortunately 
 attracted the attention of StobEus — 
 
 162 
 This love-disease is a well-pleasing pain; 
 I might compare it, not amiss, to boys 
 Who, when the frost appears, under clear skies, 
 Grasp in their hands a solid icicle ; 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 519 
 
 Who find, at first, charms in its novelty ; 
 But, in the end, neither will the thawing lump 
 Permit itself to be let go, nor yet 
 The prize remain, with comfort, in their hold. 
 So lovers often are, by this same Desire, 
 Driven to be busy at once, and to refrain. 
 
 Peleus says of Thetis — 
 
 163 
 
 What labour had I not to undergo? 
 A lion — and a serpent — water — fire ! 
 
 A dog is addressed — 
 
 166 
 
 You, Boar-catcher ! You whelp of Pelion ! 
 
 Nestor, or Ulysses perhaps ; 
 
 167 
 
 To him, whose tongue flows down with honey 
 
 Achilles himself : 
 
 168 
 
 He, in invulnerable panoply. 
 The work of Vulcan, there 
 
 169 
 — from his eyes 
 Darts javelins — 
 
 The Scyrian Women (3) no doubt followed the Epic story, intro- 
 ducing Thetis, Ulysses, Lycomedes, Deidamia, and perhaps Diomedes. 
 Ulysses chides Achilles thus — 
 
 497 
 Thou that dost quench thy race's brilliant light. 
 Born of a father of all Greeks the first, 
 Fawn'st thou? 
 Lycomedes, probably, bewails the conditions of old age ; 
 500 
 There is no burden like a life prolonged; 
 To extreme old age all ills are natural. 
 Mind gone, work useless, vain imaginings. 
 
520 SOPHOCLES 
 
 The reply must, it seems, be assigned to Diomedes ; 
 
 501 
 If we could cure ills by bewailing them, 
 Or raise, by weeping, a dead man to life. 
 Then gold would be less precious than our sorrow; 
 But as it is, old man, these remedies 
 Are ineffectual to restore to light 
 One hidden in the grave ; else, my own sire 
 Would have been brought up to the day again, 
 So far as tears could do it. 
 
 Either Lycomedes or Thetis pleads 
 
 498 
 For that war loves to prey upon the young. 
 
 And either the same, or Achilles himself, urges — in true sea-faring 
 style ; 
 
 499 
 In good sooth, sailors are unfortunates, 
 Whom neither God nor Genius could reward 
 With as much money as were meed for them ; 
 A losing folk are they, who either save. 
 Or gain, or lose, ever, by hazarding 
 Upon slight chances far-sought merchandize. 
 
 The subject of the Demand of Helen (7) seems to have been the ex- 
 pedition of Ulysses and Menelaus to Troy for that purpose, previous to 
 the sailing of the fleet. We have first, a touch of Helen herself, who 
 hears her husband's voice, his presence being as yet unknown to her ; 
 
 186 
 Somehow the very accent on his tongue 
 Wafts me the fragrance of Laconian speech. 
 
 Menelaus says, almost certainly in this play, according to Plutarch — 
 
 But my fate ever in a frequent round 
 Turns, of a God, and changes character. 
 Even as the moon's appearance in one shape 
 Cannot continue for two nights the same, 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 521 
 
 But from the invisible comes forth at first, 
 Beauteous in its new form, then rounding it ; 
 And soon as ever it appears most brave, 
 Again dissolves and comes to nothingness. 
 
 From this play, too, Plutarch probably took a graceful snatch 
 of chorus, in which there rises before us a momentary vision of the 
 banks of the Eurotas, and the girls running races in the meadow — 
 
 791 
 
 — And her, the maid 
 Whose yet untrailing Spartan skirts flap free 
 Round her bared limbs — the young Hermione. 
 
 A line ascribed to Euripides under this title, who however does not 
 seem to have written such a play, is by Welcker claimed for Sophocles : 
 Helen is speaking ; Hermione is supposed not to be present ; 
 
 But I was not a traitress, O my child. 
 
 Ulysses, addressing the Trojans, is cheapening what he would obtain 
 (Hermann's emendation) — 
 
 187 
 And if we carry a woman off, who paints, 
 Vexing her faded cheek with pencilling 
 Deeply worked in — 
 
 Helen, perhaps at this insult, loses patience : 
 
 185 
 'Twere best for me to drink bull's blood at once, 
 And not to go on being abused by them ! 
 
 This play appears to be the same that is called in the argument 
 of the Ajax The Rape of Helen (20). Another, the Marriage of Helen, 
 of which nothing intelligible survives, was apparently a Satyric Drama. 
 
 In the Iphigeneia (4) we have Ulysses again, expostulating with 
 Clytsemnestra (Porson's emendation) 
 
 289 
 A mind of genuine wisdom is a thing 
 A man should cling to, as polypuses fix 
 Their body to a rock 
 
522 SOPHOCLES 
 
 And a proverb 
 
 A vinegar jar is a bad honey-pot. 
 
 Of the next fragment only the first line appears rightly to belong to 
 Sophocles. The Chorus say — 
 
 For easy leisure brings forth nothing good, 
 Nor any God assists the indolent. 
 
 A lyric passage, referred to a play called Clytamnestra, not elsewhere 
 noticed, is by Welcker assigned to this play, and supposed to be 
 descriptive of ClytEemnestra's despair. 
 
 310 
 
 Some Antaeus, as it were, 
 
 See ye not, involving her, 
 And breathing terror, as of Hecate, 
 The Antsean Goddess 
 
 But the passage is corrupt, and the meaning cannot be ascertained 
 virith certainty. 
 
 The Achceorum Syllogus or Muster of the Achceans (5) has usually, 
 but I think erroneously, been identified with the Syndeipni or Feasters. 
 The only reason for this identification is, that Athenaeus, in one place, 
 gives as his authority for a quotation " Sophocles in the Achaeans' 
 Syndeipnon." — Syndeipnon, the "Dinner party," is several times given 
 as an alternative name for Syndeipni. Postponing for the present 
 the discussion of this passage, and of the fragments ascribed to the 
 Syndeipni, it may be proved, from the passage in Plutarch numbered (i 52) 
 below, and by a passage quoted by Welcker from a Herculanean MS., 
 that Sophocles did write a drama on the story, preserved by Aristotle 
 (Rhet. II. 26) of the muster of the Greeks at Tenedos, and the indigna- 
 tion of Achilles, when not invited, or invited too late, to their banquet. 
 To this subject all the fragments quoted as from the Achceorum Syllogus 
 seem perfectly appropriate ; while those quoted as from the Syndeipni, 
 or Syndeipnon, admit more easily, as will be hereafter shown, of a differ- 
 ent concatenation. The circumstance that a proverb arose out of the 
 story of the Anger of Achilles, in which the word "deipnon," for dinner, 
 occurred, may perhaps account for the two plays having been con- 
 founded together. 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 523 
 
 Ulysses, probably, addresses Agamemnon ; 
 
 15° 
 Take you the writing tablets ; 
 Read, on your throne, if any is absent, who 
 Joined in the oath. 
 
 Achilles, perhaps in conversation with an embassy, is meditating a 
 desertion of the fleet ; 
 
 151 
 The crews already with their punting-poles 
 Direct the keel along the favouring way 
 Of our night-voyage. 
 
 Ulysses intervenes ; 
 
 You are not angered 
 About the banquet; but you see already 
 The abodes of Troy — and tremble ! 
 
 And again, 
 
 I know what 'tis you flee from; not the slight; 
 But — Hector is at hand ! ah ! 'tis unsafe 
 To tarry! 
 
 I follow Welcker in not ascribing to this play the spirited fragment 
 (153), for which, and for the extant passages ascribed to the Syndeipni, 
 see post, pp. 529, 538. 
 
 The Pmmenes or Shepherds (6) is known to have been a drama on 
 the landing of the Greeks in Troia, and the self-devotion of Protesilaus. 
 A graceful element in the plot has been preserved to us by an accident. 
 Two Byzantine writers, frs. 127, 459, mention a particular Persian word 
 as having been used by Sophocles, one ascribing it to this play, the other 
 to an "Andromache," elsewhere unmentioned. Hence Welcker has 
 plausibly conjectured that Andromache was a personage in this drama : 
 and it is easy to see that her presence, as the loving wife of the devoted 
 (and here victorious) Trojan hero, would heighten the tragic interest 
 attaching to the fate of the defeated champion of the Greeks, celebrated 
 as he was, above all others, for the love of his absent wife Laodamia. 
 By way of prologue some one describes the Grecian host landing ; 
 
 445 
 For in the early dawn, ere I beheld 
 Any of the stall-men bringing fresh plucked fodder 
 
524 SOPHOCLES 
 
 To the she-goats, I saw an army march 
 To the rock by the sea shore — 
 
 From the same speech perhaps, comes a piece of local colour, one of 
 several traces of which, in single words, have survived : 
 
 446 
 — there 'tis the native tunny-fish 
 Passes the winter, in the Hellespont 
 Hard by; in summer the Bosporian folk 
 Have it in season ; 'tis their frequent food. 
 
 The Chorus of shepherds, relating their peaceful mode of life, now 
 interrupted by war, say, of their flocks 
 
 447 
 — since for their sakes we slave 
 Who are their masters; and to them, though dumb, 
 We must give heed. 
 
 To them also may belong two snatches of pastoral ditty 
 
 962 
 The dams that are with their young, 
 And the she-goats, would display 
 Their new-born at their breast. 
 
 466 (Nauck) 
 Where neither dun ewe's rustic shepherd 
 
 Here also we must place a fragment sometimes ascribed to the Peleus, 
 the first letter only of the reference being preserved ; 
 
 438 
 With wicker baskets wars upon the race 
 Of purple-fish. 
 
 The slaughter of Cycnus by Achilles was introduced, in order, 
 apparently, to restore the balance of victory to the Greeks; the 
 principal tragic interest must however have remained with the fall of 
 Protesilaus, since Cycnus is represented as bragging of his style of 
 fighting in a manner the reverse of elegant (938). It seems indeed to 
 have resembled the Parisian savate. To the same speech may belong 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 525 
 
 448 
 And strike into his jaws a chill 
 After his noonday fever 
 
 Other fragments are (Nauck's reading) 
 
 449 
 — there is no wound I know of 
 That can be healed by speech 
 
 45° 
 'Tis pleasant to essay one's hand in fight 
 Till it grows numb with striking — 
 
 This is Hector's ; the Chorus, after the fall of Cycnus, sing 
 
 451 
 From each wall 
 To their fall 
 Shake the topstones which Poseidon laid. 
 
 The Troilus (8) has almost entirely perished. Some one says of 
 Peleus, by way of prelude to an unfavourable mention of his son, 
 
 548 
 
 — So it was, 
 He joined himself in an unspeakable match, 
 Embracing Thetis, goddess multiform. 
 
 After the death of the young prince, the old eunuch, his attendant, 
 says — 
 
 551 
 — I have lost 
 The manly boy, my master ! 
 
 And the Chorus, perhaps— 
 
 560 
 We pass on to the wells and watering places 
 to wash the corpse. 
 
 The only important quotation from the Palanudes (9) has commonly 
 been assigned to the NaupUus, though without authority, and assumed 
 
S26 SOPHOCLES 
 
 to be a continuation of the remarkable fragment (379)- But the 
 statement of Eustathius to the contrary is too clear to be thus set aside. 
 
 380 
 Did he not through God's favour put away 
 Scarcity from them, and find out for them 
 Pastimes most clever, when they sat down tired 
 With threshing the sea surge — draughtsmen and dice, 
 A pleasant solace in their idleness? 
 
 Welcker suggests that this is taken from a speech by Palamedes, 
 speaking of himself in the third person. 
 
 X. Stories from the Iliad 
 
 The Captives, The Phrygians, 
 
 It is singular that the Iliad should have afforded Sophocles so few 
 of his plots. The extant plays show that he was familiar with the poem, 
 especially with the first book, and with the more famous passages. It is 
 possible that he felt the acquaintance of his spectators with its scenes 
 and language to be in excess of the degree most conducive to interest in 
 dramas founded upon classic legend. There are only two, which can 
 with any likelihood be said to have been drawn from the Iliad. 
 
 In regard to the Captives (23) I find myself obliged to differ from 
 Welcker, who has allowed his imagination full scope in the delineation 
 of a plot, of which the Death of Astyanax, and the distribution of 
 the Trojan women among the conquerors of Troy, are the main features. 
 He has overlooked the mention of " Mynes and Epistrophus," fr. 57, 
 from which, comparing //. 11. 692, I conclude, with Bergk, that the 
 subject of the drama was the story of Chryseis and Briseis. This is 
 confirmed by the fragment 
 
 37 
 Cilia and Chrysa I inhabit, here 
 
 (Meinecke's emendation) which belongs, no doubt, to a speech of 
 Apollo, probably a prologue. Compare //. i. 37. Chryses is, no doubt, 
 the subject of the next scrap — 
 
 43 
 But the old man put on clogs bound round with linen. 
 
 And Calchas, perhaps, of the next ; 
 
 32 
 A purger of the army, and well skilled 
 In his concoctions 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 527 
 
 The next compares a shield, with dints of many spears, to a half 
 mould, full of air bubbles. It is a bold thing to suggest a new 
 emendation, after Bentley has done his best; but viKvov xnTeJ, for iriKvov 
 Trarei, one reading of Pollux, is as good, perhaps, as his TrvKvoniiaTei 
 for irvKviSiixari, the better reading. 
 
 33 
 
 The shield, like a half-mould, is full of hollows. 
 
 We may perhaps ascribe this line to a speech of Achilles vaunting 
 his deeds, and the next, 
 
 34 
 There has been taken from thee, as it were, 
 A reed out of thy lyre 
 
 to one of Patroclus, condoling with him for the loss of Briseis. Other 
 fragments are 
 
 35 
 A scorpion watches behind every stone. 
 
 39 
 If I, being small, have conquered what is — little ! 
 
 49 
 From one poor cup a second time I poured 
 
 The Phrygians (10) seems clearly to have been a play on the Ransom 
 of Hector. Priam says 
 
 649 
 
 For O my son. Ares delights to slay 
 
 The noble and the good; but the tongue-valiant, 
 
 Avoiding mischief, are beyond annoy; 
 
 For Ares makes no booty of the base. 
 
 XI. Stories from the Little Iliad and Taking of Troy 
 
 The Ethiopians, Philocietes in Troia, Dolopians, Lac<tnce, 
 Laocoon, Locrian Ajax, Polyxena. 
 
 The Little Iliad and Taking of Troy afforded subjects for many 
 plays : the Ajax and Philocietes among them. The Ethiopians (11) no 
 doubt had Memnon for its hero. A play under his name, probably 
 identical with this, is mentioned in the argument of the Ajax. 
 
S28 SOPHOCLES 
 
 26 
 
 Wherefore all this I say to please thee, not 
 To force thee ; thou the while, as do the wise, 
 Praise what is honest, stick to what brings profit. 
 
 27 
 
 Black-a-vised wasp-waists, with a four-winged body 
 
 In prison bands. 
 
 These, we are told, are ants : it is, perhaps, a simile for the Myrmi- 
 dons. 
 
 The Philoctetes hi Troia (14) was no doubt an earlier play than 
 the Philoctetes in Lemnos which has come down to us. The fragments 
 seem to show that it did not form part of one trilogy with the other. 
 
 626 
 
 Death is the last physician of disease. 
 
 627 
 
 — that you may not be overcome 
 With the bad smell of me. 
 
 631 
 — the voiceless inarticulate 
 Music of oxen 
 
 The Dolopians (15) is identified by Welcker with the Phoenix: he 
 supposes it to have been a drama on the subject of the fetching of 
 Neoptolemus from Scyros. From the second we have 
 
 643 
 the thorny artichoke 
 Fills all the glebe 
 
 Part of a description, apparently, of Scyros; and from the first 
 (Toup's emendation) 
 
 184 
 He might be like a hare, that in his form 
 Has a poor runaway roof to cover him. 
 
 The Lactjcnm {16) is easily identified as a play on the fetching of the 
 Palladium from Troy. The scene is before the house of Paris. 
 Either Diomed or Ulysses describes the adventure; 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 529 
 
 336 
 — and we entered on 
 A tunnel, narrow, and not free from mire. 
 
 Either Helen or one of her Laconian attendants exclaims 
 
 339 
 By the Laconian Twins ! 
 Yea by Eurotas also ! By the Gods 
 In Argos, and at Sparta ! 
 
 Apparently Paris discovers them, and is persuaded by some one to 
 avoid a conflict ; 
 
 337 
 For Heaven will never — if a man may say it — 
 Approve in Phrygians, that they should begin 
 Like insolence with Argives : in this battle 
 Contend not thou with force ! 
 
 (Madvig's and Nauck's readings.) The next is from a Chorus 
 
 339 
 So shall ye make to cease from daily woes and parch- 
 ing misery 
 
 To this play Welcker refers the spirited passage quoted by 
 Herodian as a specimen of that figure in rhetoric, well known to 
 parliamentary speakers, by which a personal insult is conveyed under 
 cover of a refusal to say or believe anything so monstrous. Ulysses 
 says of Diomed, with whom we must suppose him to have quarrelled, 
 or feigned a quarrel, 
 
 153 
 But I will say — nothing injurious to you ! 
 Not — that you have been driven forth fugitive 
 From your ancestral country ; not — that Tydeus 
 Sojourns in Argos, as a foreigner. 
 Because he killed a blood-relation ; not — 
 How before Thebse he cut off the head, 
 And gnawed it, of the son of Astacus, 
 Cannibal-fashion ! 
 
 Y. A. 34 
 
530 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Of the Laocoon {17) we have the curious information from Servius 
 that Sophocles gave names to his serpents ; Porcis and Charibcea, 
 apparently. It seems likely that their metamorphosis into human 
 shape formed part of the action, or narration. From the scene pre- 
 luding the sacrifice to Poseidon, we have 
 
 340 
 And a street altar glows with smoky flame 
 Through drops of myrrh, barbarian, of sweet smell. 
 
 Reflecting on the supposed departure of the enemy, some one says 
 
 343 
 For of toil past there is no reckoning more. 
 
 Compare, from the uncertain fragments, 
 672 
 
 Labours are sweet, when labour is o'er past. 
 
 From the sacrificial hymn we have 
 
 341 
 Thou, Poseidon, who art lord 
 O'er the cliffs, or glassy wave 
 Of the wind-beset ^gean, 
 On the lofty crags abiding 
 Of all harbours — 
 
 And from the concluding scene, the speech of a messenger, found in 
 Dionysius of Halicarnassus ; 
 
 342 
 
 Now at the gates ^neas, goddess-born. 
 
 Bearing his father on his shoulders, stands ; 
 
 Whose silken gown is stained with blood, that flows 
 
 Down from the wounds inflicted on his frame 
 
 By thunderbolts. He gathers in a ring 
 
 All the full muster of his house-servants, 
 
 And Phrygians in a swarm beyond belief 
 
 Follow him, willing to be emigrants. 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 531 
 
 Of the Ajax Locrus (21), we have 
 
 II 
 If thou didst harm, then thou must suffer harm ; 
 
 and the Golden Eye of Righteousness 
 
 Sees and rewards the unrighteous. 
 
 The bold imagery of the second line caused it to be frequently 
 quoted. Other relics are — 
 
 12 
 Kings become wise in wise men's company. 
 
 13 
 
 Man is a shadow and a breath, no more. 
 
 16 
 
 A panther-skin, a Libyan buff-jerkin 
 Stripped from a spotted whelp. 
 
 This last was the sign hung up at the door of Antenor, the Trojan 
 traitor, to save him from violence during the sack. Its mention seems 
 to show that the storm of Troy, including, no doubt, the violent 
 removal of Cassandra by the hero of the drama from the sanctuary 
 of Athena entered into the action. This seems to negative its 
 identification with the play quoted by Cicero (See Teucer, post, p. 534). 
 
 The Polyxena (24) opens in a spirited manner with the apparition of 
 Achilles — 
 
 469 
 
 Leaving the borders of the ooze — profound — 
 Obscure — where sounds no psean — barren streams 
 Of Acheron, echoing shrill cries, I come ! 
 
 Compare the Prologue to the Hecuba of Euripides. Again 
 
 471 
 Out of the gloom, out of the shadowy cloud 
 
 And these appear to belong to a dialogue between Agamemnon and 
 Menelaus 
 
 473 
 An endless coat of ills investing thee 
 
 34—2 
 
532 SOPHOCLES 
 
 468 
 Do thou, abiding here, in Ida's land, 
 Gather Olympus' flocks, and sacrifice. 
 
 470 
 
 There is no leader of a multitude 
 
 Who can show favour, and suffice, to all ; 
 
 Since not even Zeus, whose sway is more than mine. 
 
 Could befriend all, whether he sent rain or sun, 
 
 But, if he came to judgment of mankind. 
 
 Would be condemned ; how then should I, being 
 
 mortal. 
 And of a mortal mother, be more knowing 
 Than Zeus, in goodness ? 
 
 XII. The Returns from Troy 
 
 Nauplius, Teucer, Eurysaces, Peleus, Women of Phthia, Chryses, 
 Aletes, Erigone, Tyndareus. 
 
 There must have been about twelve plays in all, the Electra 
 included, founded on incidents in the Returns of the Heroes from Troy, 
 and their sequel. The Nauplius (25) introduces the old sea-rover, the 
 father of the pilot Palamedes, lamenting the cruel fate of his gifted son, 
 and preparing for the returning armament his terrible revenge (Hygin. 
 116). From the early part of the play may come 
 
 375 
 O Jove, who easest grief! 
 O offerings of the third goblet, due 
 To saviour Jove ! 
 
 The lines descriptive of the inventions of Palamedes are of great 
 interest, and we may well rejoice that Achilles Tatius has preserved 
 them ; 
 
 396 
 But this man found out how to build a wall 
 About the Argive host; discovered weights. 
 Measures, and numbers ; he first fashioned these. 
 From one to ten, and then again from tens 
 Invented fifties, up to thousands ; he 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 533 
 
 Alone showed to the army how to give 
 
 Signals by beacon, how to set a watch 
 
 Over their sleep, and how to mark the hours 
 
 Until the morning; and made manifest 
 
 What had not been expounded ; he traced out 
 
 The spaces and the orbits of the stars, 
 
 Each in his rank, and the celestial signs. 
 
 And, for the shepherds of their ships at sea, 
 
 The Dog's chill setting, and the Great Bear's round. 
 
 Nauplius proceeds, in another fragment of this play, to speak of 
 the invention of games 
 
 381 
 
 And chequer-boards, ruled with five lines each way, 
 And castings of the dice 
 
 The existence of this passage renders it less likely that the fragment of 
 the Palamedes above given can be referred to this play. He concludes 
 with an adjuration 
 
 383 
 And I invoke the all enshrouding Night 
 
 From the scene in which the wreck of the fleet was described must 
 come 
 
 382 
 Hung downward, Uke a chaffinch in the snare 
 
 And from the conclusion of the play 
 
 377 
 To him who is unfortunate, one night 
 Is equal to ten thousand ; one in luck 
 Should die, before the second. 
 
 Cicero ( Tusc. Disp. III. 29) tries his hand at a translation of a 
 passage in Sophocles, telling how Oileus, who had been consoling 
 Telamon for the death of Ajax the Greater, himself refused consolation, 
 when informed of the death of his own son, Ajax the Less. Stobseus 
 has preserved the original, under the name of " CEdipus," which must 
 be a mistake for " Oileus." This however, as in some other cases, must 
 not be taken as the name of the play, or of the speaker. There is no 
 reason to suppose Sophocles wrote an " Oileus." In the Ajax Locrus, 
 
534 SOPHOCLES 
 
 above quoted, it is difficult to suppose that Cicero's quotation could 
 find place. Welcker refers it, accordingly, to the Teucer (26). Telamon, 
 perhaps, is speaking. 
 
 14 
 
 Ay, and the greatest and most wise in mind 
 
 You will discover to be just like him — 
 
 Giver of good advice to one in trouble ; 
 
 But when some Power alters the scale — strikes down 
 
 Life's balance — for a man till then in fortune, 
 
 His many excellent speeches are quite vanished. 
 
 Previous to this there must have been a description by Teucer of 
 the catastrophe of the last play, and of the death of Ajax the Less ; 
 
 507 
 — and from Heaven 
 Came lightning, and through lightning thunder brake. 
 
 From the lament of Oileus we have 
 
 508 
 
 Alas, my child, how empty a delight 
 I had of thee, hearing thee glorified 
 As living ! But the Fury in the dark 
 Was mocking at me, and I did not know 
 That I had been deluded in my joy ! 
 
 Finally Telamon drives Teucer forth, as hinted in the Ajax of our 
 poet. A couplet has been preserved, without name of play or author, 
 by Trypho (Rhet. Gr. vili. 738), which is probably taken from his 
 speech in deprecation of his father's wrath. The use of the third 
 person may be compared with that suggested in the Palamedes, above, 
 and the tone with that of Teucer's defence of his brother, in the Ajax. 
 
 But Teucer stayed the Phrygians, in mid leap 
 Over the trenches, with his archery. 
 
 Whether there was, besides the Teucer, a Eurysaces (27) by Sopho- 
 cles, appears questionable. Only one word is preserved to us under 
 this title. 
 
 It is not easy to understand why Welcker should consider the Peleus 
 (28) to be the same play with the Women of Phthia. Aristotle [Poet. 
 c. 18) mentions the two plays, as belonging to the class which he calls 
 " ethical." The Peleus deals with the return of Neoptolemus from 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 535 
 
 Troy, and the restoration of his grandfather to the throne of Epirus, 
 from which he had been ousted by Acastus, his elder son by a mortal 
 wife, whom he had married before Thetis. A female attendant pro- 
 logizes 
 
 434 
 Sole housekeeper, I tend in his old age 
 And foster Peleus, son of ^acus, 
 Over again ; for he who is growing old 
 Becomes a child once more. 
 
 This may be from the scene of the recognition of Neoptolemus by 
 Peleus 
 
 442 
 
 O Zeus, do not deceive me ; slay me not 
 Without a spear 
 
 The rest are hardly to be assigned : 
 
 439 
 And rubbing with dry unguent through the folds 
 
 436 
 'Tis better not to be, than to live ill. 
 
 Of the Women of Phthia nothing can be clearly ascertained. It 
 may have been another version of the story of the sorrowful old age of 
 Peleus, who was said by Callimachus to have died in exile at Cos. 
 There are three fragments 
 
 622 
 You are a young man ; you have much to learn, 
 And much to hear, and long to stay at school; 
 Try to be learning, ever, some new knowledge 
 That is of use. 
 
 623 
 — I'll be your tutor, 
 The aged, of the aged. 
 
 624 
 — The sentence of the parricide 
 Would have been called down on him. 
 
536 SOPHOCLES 
 
 The story of the Chryses (30) carries us again to the family of 
 Pelops. According to Hyginus, loi, this Chryses was grandson of the 
 Chryses in the Iliad, and son of Chryseis by Agamemnon. Orestes and 
 Iphigenia take refuge with him, after their escape from Tauris, and are 
 on the point of being delivered up to Thoas, when discovery is made 
 by old Chryses of their relationship, which saves them. No frag- 
 ment of interest has survived, except a line addressed to Hestia, as 
 the "prow" or eminent object (?) of libations — an untranslateable 
 metaphor. 
 
 Welcker identifies the Aletes (31) with the Erigone, and denies that 
 any Tyndareus existed, separate from them. But he allows that there 
 may have been two plays on the return of Orestes and Iphigenia to 
 Greece, in one of which the scene may have been laid at Delphi, the 
 plot embracing the recognition of Iphigenia by Electra, while the 
 second dealt with the arrival at Argos, and the deposition and death of 
 Aletes, the usurping son of Clytaemnestra and jEgisthus. But of the 
 former of these nothing is extant, while of the scraps assigned to the 
 Erigone nothing shows clearly whether Erigone of Argos, the sister 
 of Aletes, is meant, or rather the more celebrated heroine of the 
 Attic Swing Festival, the daughter of Icarius. This line is from the 
 Erigone : 
 
 215 
 What I suspect, I wish to see for plain. 
 
 And there is one passage under the name of the Tyndareus, on 
 the familiar Sophoclean topic : 
 
 572 
 'Tis never seemly to felicitate 
 The fortunes of a man, as prosperous, 
 Before his life shall have been lived by him 
 Completely through, and he have ceased to live. 
 For in a brief and scanty period 
 The assignment of an evil Deity 
 Destroys an all-pervading happiness, 
 When as things shift, and Heaven will have it so. 
 
 Stobffius gives us no less than seven fragments from the Aletes, 
 the majority evidently drawn from a single scene, that of the " claim 
 of title" set up by Orestes against Aletes. To the latter speaker 
 belong — 
 
 91 
 
 If you are noble, as you call yourself, 
 
 Show us whose son you are, and whence you came ; 
 
 No tale can throw a stain on generous breeding. 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 537 
 
 Orestes may reply 
 
 92 
 
 Well didst thou speak, not at all grievously. 
 
 For a fair ancestry, coming to proof, 
 
 Would obtain good repute, rather than blame. 
 
 An upright man, and of just sentiments, 
 Discerns far more than a philosopher. 
 
 Aletes breaks off with 
 
 89 
 Much wisdom often waits on brevity. 
 
 90 
 For he who loves to be for ever talking 
 Does not perceive he plagues his company. 
 
 This may possibly have been from a speech by an attendant, or by 
 Tyndareus — 
 
 94 
 'Tis dreadful that the wicked — men who spring 
 From evil ancestors — should prosper well, 
 While those who are both good themselves, and born 
 From noble parents, are unfortunate. 
 Unmeet it was Deities should order so 
 These lines for mortals; meet it was, the pious 
 Should from the Gods have some clear benefit, 
 While those who are unrighteous underwent 
 Contrariwise to them, clear punishment. 
 In quittance for their sins; so, nobody 
 Of evil nature would be prosperous. 
 
 The last may be from the conclusion of the play : 
 
 93 
 Oh who would ever count men's happiness 
 As great, or httle, or as that which none 
 Anywhere honour? For of all they have 
 Nothing abides the same 1 
 
538 SOPHOCLES 
 
 XIII. Stories from the Odyssey 
 Nausicaa, The Phaacians, Syndeipni. 
 
 Of plays from the Odyssey, we must lament the total loss of the 
 Nausicaa (33). This is the play in which, according to the well-known 
 story, Sophocles acted the part of an attendant maiden, and distin- 
 giiished himself as a ball-player. The princess calls her followers, 
 with Homeric simplicity, 
 
 391 
 
 To wash our gowns and linen-petticoats ! 
 
 We may assign to Ulysses, watching the game, the unplaced frag- 
 ment 
 
 872 
 
 — and the missile rolls 
 Before my feet 
 
 Where the missile (or javelin) is, we are told, "a ball." Envious 
 Time, or the Caliph Omar, has robbed us of the rest of what may have 
 been a very charming play. 
 
 The Phaacians (34) survives to us only in the punning lines on the 
 name of Ulysses, of which the following perhaps is as good a rendering 
 as they deserve 
 
 408 
 
 Rightly am I named Odysseus, after ills ; 
 For many odious to me I have used ill. 
 
 And in a passage from the narrative of Ulysses 
 
 407 
 
 To the Sirens, Phorcus' daughters, next I came, 
 Who chant the lays of Death. 
 
 From some further surviving indications it seems to have been a 
 Satyric play. 
 
 We now come to the Syndeipni or Feasters (35) otherwise called 
 Syndeiption, or The Dinner Party. This I conclude, following 
 Welcker, to have been a drama of importance, a tragedy, on the story 
 of Ulysses and the Suitors of Penelope, as related in the 20th and 
 following books of the Odyssey. It will be noticed that the addition 
 of this play to the number of those on subjects taken from the Odyssey 
 only makes up the total of this class to three ; a number which hardly 
 justifies the remark above quoted, from the Life of Sophocles, as to the 
 fondness of the poet for such subjects. But if for the Odyssev, 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 539 
 
 strictly so called, we substitute the adventures of Ulysses, generally 
 speaking, many others would have to be added. The confusion of this 
 drama with the Achceoram Syllogus has arisen from the quotation by 
 AthenDeus (I. 17 D.), as from " Sophocles in the Achceans' Syndeipnon" 
 of a well-known comical passage, founded on a Homeric incident, and 
 partly taken from the Osteologi of ^schylus, which appears to have 
 been a satyric drama on the fate of Melanthius and the maidservants. 
 But lower down, (l. 17 F. ) Athenseus classes Sophocles with ^schylus 
 and Homer, as introducing "the suitors" in this connexion. The 
 suitors of Penelope were naturally of Achaean race ; but it is not 
 necessary to hazard any further supposition, in this respect, than that 
 Athenasus made a slip in quoting the title of the play. Ulysses is pro- 
 logizing, apparently ; he relates the events of his first encounter with 
 Irus and the Suitors, and describes, with mock heroic irony, their mal- 
 treatment of him ; 
 
 147 
 
 But in his wrath he hurled the unsavoury vase, 
 Nor missed me ; and about my pate the vessel, 
 Breathing no scent of myrrh, brake, and my senses 
 Were routed by no friendly fragrance ! 
 
 Of this passage part of the first line, and all the second, are found, 
 as above noted, in a fragment of ^schylus. It does not seem likely 
 that Sophocles would have transferred the incident to a different story. 
 The topic reappears in an allusion made by Cicero, writing to his 
 brother Quintus, who was at the time with Cfesar's army in Gaul. 
 "Of your Sophoclean Dinner Party I do not think much; though I 
 perceived you acted the play in fun. " {QXc.adQu.i. 16.) There had 
 probably been some horse-play at the mess-table. Quintus Cicero was 
 himself an amateur translator, and had turned four dramas into Latin, 
 as the fruits of his winter-quarters' leisure ; one of which, the Erigone, 
 he sent to his brother ; but it was lost on the way. 
 
 We find traces, next, of a spirited banquet scene ; the Chorus sing 
 
 146 
 
 Hateful and slothful is forgetfulness 
 Of the Pierian maids; 
 But remembrance of song 
 Is most blest unto mortals, 
 Upholding the brief 
 Isthmus of life. 
 
54° SOPHOCLES 
 
 Ulysses taunts Eurymachus, perhaps ; 
 
 148 
 
 It is not right thus to be carrying round 
 A greasy chin — or that an o'ergrown boy, 
 Noble by birth, should be esteemed the son 
 Not of his father, but — his appetite ! 
 
 And Antinous, perhaps, from an unnamed play 
 
 706 
 
 — you shine in raiment 
 That apes the woman! 
 
 Eurymachus may have repUed 
 
 727 
 
 But you are kicking, like a well-fed colt; 
 Your belly and jaws are full ! 
 
 From the scene of the trial with the bow we have 
 
 149 
 
 Bring ye — let some one mingle and fill up 
 A mighty bowl. He, like a labouring steer, 
 Never will work, till after a good meal — 
 
 where again we have a Homeric incident reproduced; and from the 
 speech of some suitor, after Ulysses is made known, we get 
 
 You stick at nothing! How the old Sisyphus 
 Is big and manifest in you everywhere, 
 And he, who was your mother's father. 
 
 A fragment of an uncertain drama must belong to the same scene 
 963 
 
 — for the bow 
 Is marvellous slippery 
 
 a scrap which appears almost conclusive as to the fact, that Sophocles 
 did write a drama on this subject ; and thus renders it improbable 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 541 
 
 and unnecessary to ascribe these passages to the Achaorum Syllogus. 
 Welcker adds, from the Unceiiain Fragments, as taken from the final 
 scene of this play, 
 
 869 
 
 In what a guise our executioner 
 Is gone ! 
 
 819 
 Be silent ! hush ! What is that noise indoors ? 
 
 693 
 A hive of dead men buzzes, and I hear 
 A stir 
 
 XIV. The later life of Ulysses 
 
 Euryalus, Ulysses slain by a prickle. 
 
 Of the later life of Ulysses several stories are told, two of which, at 
 least, were the subjects of Sophoclean Dramas. The plot of the 
 Euryal-us (37) we know from Parthenius, 3, but no fragments have 
 survived. It is not worth repeating. The Foot-bath, or Ulysses slain 
 by a prickle (36) probably opened with the return of Ulysses from his 
 second wandering, and the recognition of him by Euryclea, in washing 
 his feet, transferred from his first return, as told in the Odyssey. Then 
 followed the landing of Telegonus, the son of Ulysses by Circe, and his 
 encounter with his father, who is brought in wounded to death by the 
 prickle of a sea-fish, with which the lance of Telegonus was pointed. 
 There are several references to the oracle of Dodona, with which the 
 singular prophecy of Tiresias in the Odyssey was somehow worked up. 
 
 401 
 
 Neither to Pytho nor Dodona's fields 
 Shall any man persuade me now to go. 
 
 Zeus dwelling in Dodona, at home with men. 
 
 The sooth-saying holy Dodonsan maids — 
 
 — and cause to cease the Power 
 Praised in Dodona — 
 
 403 
 — Wearing what sort of gift 
 Upon his gleaming shoulders ? 
 
542 SOPHOCLES 
 
 404 
 Bearing a winnowing fan upon his shoulders 
 
 402 
 
 If any man shall now come forth ; if not, 
 Say so. 
 
 Cicero tells us of a play by Pacuvius on the same subject, in which 
 he finds matter for comparison unfavourable to Sophocles, from the 
 Stoic point of view. Sophocles, it seems, made Ulysses lament too much 
 over his wound, to suit the Roman taste. 
 
 With the death of the favourite character of our poet — Ulysses was 
 introduced by him in mor« than a dozen plays — ends the series of 
 fragments which can on authority or with any reasonable ground be 
 assigned to particular tragedies. 
 
 XV. Satyric Plavs 
 
 Cedalion, Pandora, Hybris, Dionysiacus , Inachus, Hercules at 
 Tcenarus, Cophi. 
 
 There remain a few fragments ascribed to Satyric plays, on 
 miscellaneous subjects. The Cedalion was a drama on the story of 
 Orion (Erat. Catasterism. xxxii. ). Cedalion was the slave of Vulcan, 
 given by him to the blind giant to be his guide. He rode upon Orion's 
 shoulders. The fragments are 
 
 Indeed my limbs have somewhat given way 
 Through panic! 
 
 A striking simile follows : 
 
 3°7 
 I gain no notion from your words, no more 
 Than a white paling from a whitened stone ! 
 
 308 
 
 Whate'er may be forthcoming, the universe 
 Is a dream-shadow. 
 Abuse of slaves : 
 
 309 
 Food for the scourge — the goad — 
 Eaters of others bread ! 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 543 
 
 The connexion of the first of the two following fragments with the 
 story of Pandora is evident enough : 
 
 432 
 
 And first, begin to knead clay with your hands 
 
 The second implies a drinking scene : 
 
 429 
 And as he quaffs a brazen horn held high, 
 She, with her delicate arm, will coax the man 
 When he is full. 
 
 Hybris was, in one story, the name of the mother of Pan. We have 
 of it 
 
 S9S 
 Lethe, that is destitute of all. 
 Dumb — voiceless. 
 
 From a play called Dionysiacus , or more probably, from " a 
 Dionysiac play," i.e. a satyric drama, we get 
 
 182 
 
 How did I come to find 
 A flower of grief so painless? 
 
 which refers, we are told, to the discovery of wine. 
 
 The Inachus was a Satyric play, of which the scenery and subject 
 recalled the Golden Age ; 
 
 267 
 
 Happy they, who then 
 Shared the immortal strain, divine 
 
 Arms are laid by as useless 
 
 269 
 And all are full of weaver-spiders. 
 
 278 
 Rough hoarseness rises from, the tortoise-lyre. 
 
 272 
 — ^together with 
 Winter's returning shade 
 
544 SOPHOCLES 
 
 Mankind play games ; the cottabus especially 
 
 257 
 The splash of wine — the amorous, foreign game- 
 Sounded in every home 
 
 An anapsestic ode addresses Inachus, and describes the river named 
 after him 
 
 256 
 
 O Inachus our ancestor 1 
 
 Son of Oceanus, father of waters ! 
 
 Who in lands of Argos art preeminent, 
 
 On Hera's hills, 
 And 'mongst Pelasgians in Etruria— 
 
 265 
 For he flows from Pindus' height, 
 From Lacmus, from Perrhsebia, 
 To Acamania, to the Amphilochi, 
 And mingles with the streams of Achelous. 
 
 Thence to Argos, dividing his wave. 
 He is come — to the Lyrcian folk. 
 
 Two lines of dialogue 
 
 — I assent ; 
 But know that, as the proverb runs, a man 
 Might become known from very small beginnings. 
 
 Iris is introduced by Hermes 
 
 261 
 What woman is here? A round Arcadian hat 
 
 Inachus is dried up : lo says 
 
 268 
 
 — and my father-river, Inachus, 
 Is in the same condition as the dead. 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 545 
 
 According to Toup, (Emend, in Suid. II. 464) Inachus, a rough old 
 man crowned with reeds, lo, in heifer-form, Argus, all over eyes, Iris, 
 Hermes, and similar figures may have been introduced, making up an 
 entertainment not very unlike a popular burlesque on the modern 
 stage. 
 
 The Hercules at Tanarus seems to have been a favourite play, on 
 the subject of the descent of Hercules to Hades. Hercules says — 
 
 218 
 I gathered wood enough for cooking dinner, 
 So that I might not lack it half way through. 
 
 219 
 — they cherish in the land a snake, 
 The fountain's guardian. 
 
 The story, how snakes came to be the guardians of fountains, was 
 told by Sophocles in another satyric drama, the Cophi, or Dumb Men, 
 of which only the plot is preserved (^lian, N. A. 6). Prometheus, 
 who had given fire to mankind, was betrayed by his ungrateful 
 beneficiaries ; and in order to reward their treachery, Zeus gave them 
 the drink of perpetual youth. With their usual stupidity, Mankind put 
 it on an ass's back, and drove it before them: now the ass, being 
 thirsty, came to a fountain, which was guarded by a serpent ; and was 
 easily persuaded by that crafty animal to barter the draught of youth 
 for a draught of water. Thus the race of snakes obtained their 
 peculiarity of an annual renewal of youth, while men and donkeys 
 remain subject to thirst, and are, moreover, sometimes bitten by snakes, 
 which produces a worse fever of thirst than any. 
 
 XVI. Unknown Dramas. 
 
 The melancholy task remains of putting together such fragments as 
 cannot even be attributed, by any probable conjecture, to one or other 
 of the lost plays. Of these the largest harvest is afforded by Stobaeus ; 
 but the value of his selection is lessened through his extravagant 
 fondness for abstract remarks, which appear trite when detached from 
 their context, on the general fitness or unfitness of things. Such are — 
 
 656 
 But stroke of God no mortal can evade. 
 
 657 
 Time, that uncovers all, brings all to light. 
 
546 SOPHOCLES 
 
 658 
 Much hidden wisdom is disclosed at last 
 
 By Time, to those who seek — 
 Time, and the strong extremity of life. 
 
 659 
 But when Heaven hides things heavenly, though thou 
 
 search 
 All nature through, thou canst not find them out. 
 
 660 
 
 One wise man perishes 
 At hands of many fools. 
 
 661 
 For a good man will succour the distressed. 
 
 662 
 But a good will is as a mighty god. 
 
 663 
 Yet the unprosperous are not deaf alone. 
 But seeing they see not what is manifest. 
 
 664 
 — There are no comely names 
 To fit uncomely deeds. 
 
 66s 
 
 To take delight 
 In shameful pleasures is not ever right. 
 
 666 
 — Fortune does not side 
 With the despondent. 
 
 667 
 
 Why, modesty is no help in misery ; 
 For silence fights upon the accuser's side. 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 547 
 
 668 
 Why praise you this ? For every man in wine 
 Is passion's captive, and devoid of sense; 
 And pouring out much babble, to no purpose, 
 Unwillingly has to hear the selfsame language 
 Which of free will he used. 
 
 669 
 
 But when a man is taken in a fraud 
 He must be dumb, however plausible. 
 The case is grievous, when a man of merit 
 Is conscious of some matter — 
 
 More interest attaches to the following ; 
 
 670 
 So women, too, forswear the bitter pangs 
 Of child-bearing; but, when they cease from pain, 
 Become entangled in the selfsame toils, 
 O'ermastered by the presence of desire. 
 
 671 
 For that no oath sits heavy upon a knave. 
 
 673 
 Utter no secret ! Bolts and bars are nothing. 
 That you may apprehend it easily, 
 No secret, on the tongue, does not slip off it. 
 
 674 
 For where the children overbear their sires 
 That is no city of sagacious men ; 
 
 — It is good to follow 
 The customs of the country. 
 
 67s 
 High place demands many high qualities: 
 But of small efforts no great glory ensues. 
 
 35—2 
 
548 SOPHOCLES 
 
 676 
 Opinions have more power than violence. 
 
 677 
 Though body is enslaved, yet mind is free. 
 
 679 
 
 But Where's the household, among all mankind, 
 Ever was rich, though swoln with luxury. 
 Apart from a good woman's housewifery? 
 
 680 
 
 — for in a fatherless house 
 The woman has the spirit of a man. 
 
 Instead of Dindorfs (681), I read, with Brunck (859, Nauck), 
 
 Poverty, blended with impiety. 
 Utterly ruins and upsets a life. 
 
 682 
 
 O mortal race of men, and miserable. 
 How are we nothing, except shadow-like. 
 Drifting about, mere cumberers of the earth ! 
 
 683 
 
 For 'tis not given, save to Gods, to live 
 With no misfortunes. 
 
 684 
 God ! surely there is no defence for men 
 From our innate and heaven-sent miseries. 
 
 This last is by some ascribed to Euripides. 
 686 
 
 But a wise gamester ought to take the dice 
 Even as they fall, and pay down quietly. 
 Rather than grumble at his luck. 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 549 
 
 687 
 For Hope is she who feeds the multitude — 
 
 688 
 
 The wise admit no dotage, in whose breast 
 Reason subsists, nurtured by God's own day ; 
 For forethought is great benefit to men. 
 
 The second line, here, is hardly Sophoclean. 
 
 689 
 For whoso in misfortunes longs for life 
 Is either cowardly, or insensible. 
 
 690 
 — Now he is dead, I long to die with him. 
 — Your day of fate will find you — never hasten. 
 
 Later investigations have added, from the same source, 
 
 839 (Nauck) 
 
 How want of knowledge is a parlous ill — 
 
 840 (Nauck) 
 
 — and folly 
 Is most of all akin to wickedness. 
 
 849 (Nauck) 
 The rightly happy must remain at home. 
 
 866 (Nauck) 
 
 Whatever mortal quails too much at death. 
 He is a fool; this is in Destiny's keeping; 
 And when his hour is come to die, though fleeing 
 Even to the courts of Jove, he cannot 'scape it. 
 
 868 a (Nauck) 
 But time obscures and brings to oblivion all. 
 
 Two lines come from the supplement of John of Damascus, (see also 
 (736) quoted above). 
 
5 so SOPHOCLES 
 
 691 
 Truth ever has most strength of what men say. 
 
 780 
 The gratitude of an unmindful man 
 Passes away. 
 
 Out of Photius, derived by him from Helladius Chrestomathius, 
 comes 
 
 694 
 
 A woman's vows I write upon the wave. 
 
 Athenseus affords a few good passages : among them are 420, 696, 
 698, quoted above. Also — 
 
 697 
 
 To get drunk — 
 Solace of care ! 
 
 699 
 
 Courage ! you have in me a mighty bar 
 To shut this terror out. 
 
 700 
 
 And a chorus of mute fish, wagging their tails, 
 Applauded their own mistress. 
 
 701 
 
 To be compelled to drink 
 Is just as bad as being compelled to thirst. 
 
 702 
 
 For though you offer to a thirsty man 
 
 All the wise saws in the world, you could not more 
 
 Delight him, than by giving him to drink ! 
 
 703 
 — Thou accurst of Heaven, 
 Who with thy wine-jugs art so riotous ! 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 551 
 
 704 
 And deep in my heart a daughter of Fear 
 Keeps revel, with no joyous cheer. 
 
 From the Etymologicon Magnum we have a characteristic passage ; 
 
 But never yet the insolence of youth 
 Grew into soberness ; but in the young 
 Blossoms and fades, blossoms and fades again. 
 
 Clement of Alexandria, from whose Pizdagogits we derive 706 quoted 
 above, gives us also, in his Miscellany [Stromata) four passages ascribed 
 to Sophocles, one of them religious, monotheistic, if not Christian, in 
 tone, and one an offensive fragment, written by no means in pure 
 Greek. These I omit. The two others are also found, in part, in 
 Plutarch, and may therefore be considered genuine. 
 
 707 
 
 And such, I know, is God; unto the wise 
 A giver, ever, of dark oracles ; 
 But unto fools a sorry schoolmaster. 
 And of brief speech. 
 
 709 
 
 Before what Deity thou must appear... 
 Who knows not favour or benevolence. 
 But takes delight in right, and in right only. 
 
 Plutarch is -- rich mine of Sophoclean fragments. Unluckily he 
 never names the play from which he is quoting : but several have 
 been assigned above, on probable grounds, to particular dramas. 
 Others are — 
 
 710 
 Ye Gods, what passion, or what love-desires 
 Laid hold upon him ! 
 
 711 
 
 Whoso has deaHngs with an emperor, 
 
 Becomes his slave, though he approach him free. 
 
552 SOPHOCLES 
 
 712 
 Matter for many bits, and rudders too ! 
 
 714 
 Swift the conviction of adversity 
 To make its way — 
 
 715 
 Of all work, if a man begin it well, 
 'Tis like that the end also will be good. 
 
 716 
 
 Straits of the infernal regions, and back-swirl 
 Of the abyss — 
 
 717 
 — Profit is sweet, even if it spring from falsehood. 
 — The words of falsehood do not bring forth fruit. 
 
 I add the former of these two lines from Nauck's edition (749). 
 
 718 
 Men may be honoured, though unpropertied. 
 A beggar, if his mind is honourable. 
 Is none the worse — 
 
 720 
 
 For Ares, bUnd, O women, and seeing nought, 
 With a swine's snout routs up all miseries. 
 
 723 
 What can be taught, I learn ; what can be found 
 I seek ; the rest I did require of heaven. 
 
 725 
 
 Mourn you a mortal, now he is no more. 
 All ignorant if the future brings him gain? 
 
 726 
 
 Not honour, no, unhappy one ! Disgrace 
 
 Rather, and maddening of your mind, were there ! 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 553 
 
 728 
 Not harps — not lyres — with dirges will agree. 
 
 From the next line, ascribed to "Admetus in Sophocles", it has 
 been conjectured that our poet wrote an Alcestis, which has entirely 
 perished ; 
 
 730 
 But my own house-cock summoned him to the mill — 
 
 This is said of Apollo : we cannot be far wrong in adding, with 
 Welcker, from a Scholiast on Pindar, 
 
 7S8 
 
 Land of Pherse, hail ! O kindred fount, 
 Water of Hyperea ! Stream most dear 
 Unto the Gods ! 
 
 which must belong to the same play ; but whether it was really an 
 Alcestis, or rather a play on the fortunes of Apollo in Admetus's 
 service, I am inclined to doubt. 
 From Plutarch also come 
 
 Search all mankind — most of the hearts you search 
 Will be found base. 
 
 733 
 Purge bitter bile with bitter medicine. 
 
 734 
 
 1 blame you not ; you speak ill, but act kindly. 
 
 735 
 Talk about running carries not so far 
 As to the course's end. 
 
 737 
 A tardy onset, in the words of eld, 
 Hardly can penetrate a listening ear; 
 Each, afar off, can see, but near, is blind. 
 
554 SOPHOCLES 
 
 738 
 Lovers of horses, drawers of bows of horn, 
 Wrestlers, with shields clanging like bells — 
 
 739 
 There was a first occurrence, once for all. 
 Of everything that had not yet occurred. 
 
 741 
 Men who have lost such friends as these are merry; 
 Men who have such, pray to be free from them. 
 
 742 
 
 — For arms, in poverty, 
 Shine brightly, and excel; but, as time passes, 
 A house enwrapped in sloth nods to its fall. 
 
 744 
 Persuasion hath an awful countenance. 
 
 745 
 The goose domesticated, and the dove, 
 Our house and hearth-mate- — 
 
 746 
 
 For excellently even a differing speech 
 Works union twixt us two. 
 
 748 
 Blown high, like the hoar down of thistle-seed — 
 
 749 
 This is God's gift; what the Gods give, my child. 
 No man need ever shun. 
 
 783 
 Dragged it down, as a leaden weight the net. 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 555 
 
 879 
 Fair-fruited Cytherea — 
 
 And (not in Dindorf) 
 
 755 (Nauck) 
 Fair words proceed not from a deed unfair. 
 
 From various sources, chiefly the notes of Scholiasts, we have — 
 
 75° 
 — Let him not give counsel, 
 Who has not endured hke me ! 
 
 754 
 I shut my eyes, and open them, and stand up, 
 Not so much watched as watcher. 
 
 755 
 For though I have to choose one of the three 
 I will untie (the knot) 
 
 That is, we are told, one way of suicide, either steel or halter, or 
 leaping from a rock. 
 
 756 
 Buying and selling — you propounded them 
 Like some Sidonian — some Phcenician pedlar! 
 
 rl 
 
 757 
 'Tis the same corner of the soul of man 
 Where pain and pleasure both have being; at least, 
 Happening on either fortune, he sheds tears. 
 
 759 
 — for Zeus already 
 On the supremest seat of Gods — 
 
 762 
 An old man's wrath, like hatchet of soft iron 
 Whets on the hand, but gets blunt instantly. 
 
SS6 SOPHOCLES 
 
 763 
 For ever fairly fall the dice of Jove. 
 
 764 
 First I proclaim, let no ill words be uttered. 
 
 The line usually coupled with this Welcker attributes to the Atreus. 
 (See above, p. 517.) 
 
 766 
 — The sceptre-perching eagle, 
 Watch-dog of Jove — 
 
 768 
 So that Jove's forehead might grow smooth with joy. 
 
 769 
 
 For I was not his bastard brother. 
 
 But owned the same father as he, none other; 
 
 Zeus, and no mortal, was author of me. 
 
 770 
 I hate a searcher into mysteries. 
 
 772 
 
 — May the Sun pity me. 
 Whom the wise name progenitor of Gods, 
 And Sire of all things ! 
 
 773 
 The friends of the unlucky are far away ! 
 
 778 
 That city of seven gates thou call'st Thebes, where only 
 Do mortal mothers bring forth deities. 
 
 784 
 
 — A chatterbox 
 Of supreme cleverness, Laertes' son. 
 
THE LOST DRAMAS 557 
 
 813 
 But bloody vengeance from above will dart — 
 
 822 
 I set aside the want of willingness. 
 
 823 
 
 For what is hidden purposely indoors 
 Ought never to be heard by those outside. 
 
 858 
 When a man sings in the Boeotian mood — 
 
 862 
 -for thy advice 
 
 Is mere old age. 
 
 86s 
 
 — for effeminate men, 
 Practised in speaking — 
 
 884 
 
 'Tis better to incur some bane 
 Than pocket a disgraceful gain. 
 
 886 
 
 Thou, like a Lydian loadstone, didst draw hither 
 The steel from far. 
 
 902 
 You fawn, and bite ; you are a treacherous hound ! 
 
 943 
 Thy Virgin Daughter's solemn mysteries. 
 
5s8 SOPHOCLES 
 
 I add, lastly, from Nauck's edition, five more passages from among 
 the scanty gleanings which escaped previous researches. 
 
 682 (Nauck) 
 
 I offered to the Gods, upon the shore, 
 Lambs a year old. 
 
 738 (Nauck) 
 
 For that which Nature gives a man — 
 Pluck out that you never can. 
 
 804 (Nauck) 
 
 Hastening at the shuttle-songs 
 Which wake the sleeper up. 
 
 810 (Nauck) 
 Would you were wise in deeds, as well as words ! 
 
 818 (Nauck) 
 
 It were much better that we should proceed 
 With our hired horse, picked men, than with all arms. 
 
 Grace, vivacity and dramatic force are visible even in these commi- 
 nuted splinters of poetic work. But very little of these characteristics 
 can be reproduced by the translator, who labours, here, under insuper- 
 able difficulties. 
 
 Cambridge: printed by c. j. clay, m.a. and sons, at the university pres.s.