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AUTHOR:
SOPHOCLES
TITLE:
SOPHOCLES , TR. BY
THOMAS FRANCKLIN
PLACE:
LONDON
DA TE :
1832
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Works. Eng. ft:-ancklin.
Sophocles*
Sophocles, tr. by Thomas Francklin»»
Valpy, 1832.
xi, 363 p« 16 cm*
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SOPHOCLES.
SOPH,
I
SOPHOCLES
I » \
.•
TRANSLATE O BY
THOMAS FRANCKLIN, D. D.
GJIEKK PROFESSOR IN THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE.
I
^ONDON:
PRINTED BY A. J. VALPY, M. A.
AND SOLD BY ALL BOOKSELLERS.
1832.
M
»
CONTENTS.
Biographical Sketch of Sophocles
THE TRAGEDIES.
V^Ajax
v^Electra
^ Philoctetes
!? /Antigone .
^ y^RACHINI^ .
Mi v^CEdipus Tyrannus
^•(Edipus Coloneus
391010
PAGE
vii
1
51
103
155
201
247
305
li?
' This translation is remarkably close and concise, and the
language is easy and natural, and suited to the sentiments.
In a word, the English poet seems to have preserved that
elegance and simplicity, for which the Grecian is so deser-
vedly admired.' — Monthly Riview.
t
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH
OF
SOPHOCLES,
This excellent tragic writer was born at Colone, a
village in Attica, about 497 years before Christ.
Although his father Sophilus is said to have exer-
cised the humble occupation of a blacksmith, he
did not neglect the education of his son, who,
while he gave early indications of extraordinary
genius, and a remarkable aptitude for the higher
branches of literature, at the same time cultivated
the accomplishments of music and dancing, in
both of which arts he failed not to distinguish him-
self, particularly after the battle of Salamis, when
he led a chorus of youths round a trophy erected
in honor of that victory.
As the profession of arms was, at that period,
more honorable, and probably more advantageous
than any other, Sophocles entered the army at the
vm
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH
OF SOPHOCLES.
IX
usual age, and had the honor to serve under the
great Pericles. His valor and conduct were here
80 conspicuous, that in a short time he was ap-
pointed to a high military dignity, and in several
battles is reported to have shared in the supreme
command of the Athenian armies with his former
leader. His services in the field were rewarded by
his fellow-citizens, who raised him to the high
office of archoii, the duties of which he executed
with credit and honor.
The first appearance of Sophocles as a dramatic
writer left no room for doubting the splendor of
his talents. The Athenians had captured the
island of Scyros, and, in order to celebrate that
memorable event, a yearly contest for tragedy was
instituted. Sophocles, on this occasion, although
he was but twenty-nine years of age, obtained the
prize over many experienced competitors, in the
number of whom was -^schylus, his former friend
and preceptor.
He was less fortunate in domestic life than in
his public career. His children, disappointed in
their eager wishes for his death, and solicitous for
the immediate possession of his fortune, sum-
moned him before the judges, at a very advanced
age, representing him as in a state of dotage, ^and
utterly incapable of conducting his affairs. The
old man appeared in court to repel this charge ;
and, producing the tragedy of (Edipus Coloneus,
which he had just finished, asked his judges if
the author of such a work could be justly taxed
with insanity. The judges, indignant at the impu-
tation which had been preferred against him, con-
firmed him in the possession of his rights : his un-
grateful children were covered with shame and
confusion ; and all the people who were present
conducted him home in triumph. His death at
the age of ninety-one, 406 years before the Chris-
tian era, is said to have been occasioned by ex-
cessive joy at obtaining a prize at the Olympic
games.
Sophocles is supposed to have written one hun-
dred and twenty tragedies, only seven of which
are now remaining ; these were received by his
contemporaries with that applause which they so
well deserved. It is remarked, that he never
acted himself in any of his plays, as ^schylus
and Euripides were accustomed to do, his voice
being too weak and low for the stage : though he
was always present at the representation, and re-
ceived the applauses of the audience, who, we are
told, seldom failed to signify their approbation,
X BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH
both at his entering and quitting the theatre. He
was crowned twenty times ; and though he pro-
bably sometimes shared the fate of his brother
poets by unjust censure, could never be prevailed
on, as his rivals were, to quit his native country,
to which he took every opportunity of showing his
sincerest attachment.
The drama is indebted to this great' man for the
introduction of a third speaker to the dialogue,
into which his genius infused greater ease and ele-
gance : to this improvement he likewise added the
decoration of painted scenery, and paid a stricter
attention to probability and natural incident. The
Athenians erected a sumptuous monument to his
memory, on which was engraved a swarm of bees,
in allusion to the name generally given him on ac-
count of his verses, which are, indeed, wonderfully
soft and harmonious.
So just an estimate of the merits of Sophocles is
formed by the learned and elegant writer, whose
translation is here adopted, that we cannot better
conclude this brief sketch than in presenting it to
our readers.
'Sophocles.' says Dr. Francklin, 'may with
great truth be called the prince of ancient dramatic
poets*, his fables, (at least of all those tragedies
OF SOPHOCLES.
XI
.t'«l
now extant,) are interesting and well chosen ; his
plots regular and well conducted ; his sentiments
elegant, noble, and sublime ; his incidents natural ;
his diction simple ; his manners and characters
striking, equal, and unexceptionable ; his choruses
well adapted to the subject ; his moral reflections
pertinent and useful; and his numbers, in every
part, to the last degree sweet and harmonious.
The warmth of his imagination is so tempered by
the perfection of his judgment, that his spirit,
however animated, never wanders into licentious-
ness ; whilst, at the same time, the fire of his ge-
nius seldom suffers the most uninteresting parts of
his tragedy to sink into coldness and insipidity.
His peculiar excellence seems to lie in the descrip-
tive ; and, exclusive of his dramatic powers, he is
certainly a greater poet than either of his illustri-
ous rivals. Were 1 to draw a similitude of him
from painting, I should say that his ordonnance
was so just, his figures so well grouped and con-
trasted, his colors so glowing and natural ; all his
pieces, in short, executed in so bold and masterly
a style, as to wrest the palm from every other hand,
and point him out as the Raphael of the ancient
drama.'
w
A J A X.
DRAMATIS PERSON.^:.
Minerva.
Ulysses.
Ajax.
Tecmessa, wife of Ajax.
Teucer, brother to Ajax.
Agamemnon,
Menelaus.
Messenger.
Chorus, composed of ancient men of Salamis.
I
After the death of Achilles, the Greeks published their in-
tention of bestowing the arms of their deceased hero on that
chief who had rendered the greatest services to the com-
mon cause. Ajax and Ulysses each prosecuted their claims
for this honor, which were decided in favor of the latter by
the casting-vote of Menelaus. Ajax, frantic with disap-
pomtment, and instigated by Minerva, slaughtered a whole
flock of sheep, supposing them to be the sons of Atreus ;
and, after his recovery from delirium, stabbed himself
through grief. His half-brother, Teucer to whom he was
tenderly attached, was about to bestow on him the usual
rites of sepulture, when he was interrupted by Agamemnon
and Menelaus, who sternly insisted that the body of Ajax
should remain unburied, in revenge for their intended mur-
der. Teucer, however, persevered in his pious design
and defied the power of the two princes ; when Ulysses, by
his influence, persuaded Agamemnon to remit the penalty
and to suffer Teucer to bury the body of Ajux without far-
ther molestation.
r
ACT I.
Scene a field near the camp of Ajax.
MINERVA, ULYSSES.
iMiN. Son of Laertes, thy unwearied spirit
lis ever watchful to surprise the foe.
I have observed thee wandering midst the tents
In search of Ajax, where his station lies,
At the utmost verge, measuring o'er his steps
4 SOPHOCLES.
But late impressed : like Sparta's hounds of scent ;
Sagacious dost thou trace him, nor in vain;
For know, the man thou seekst is not far from thee :
Yonder he lies, with reeking brow and hands
Deep-stain'd with gore : cease then thy search, and
tell me 10
Wherefore thou coraest, that so I may inform
Thy doubting mind, and best assist thy purpose.
Ulys. Minerva, dearest of the immortal powers !
(For, though I see thee not, that well-known voice
Doth like the Tyrrhene trump awake my soul.) 15
Right hast thou said, I come to search my foe,
Shield-bearing Ajax ; him alone I seek :
V^ A deed of horror hath he done this night.
If it be he ; for yet we are to know
The certain proof, and therefore came 1 here 20
A willing messenger : the cattle all.
Our flocks and herds, are, with their shepherds, slain !
To Ajax every tongue imputes the crime :
One of our spies, who saw him on the plain,
His sword still reeking with fresh blood, conflrra'd
it:
Instant I fled to search him, and sometimes 26
I trace his footsteps, which again I lose
I know not how. In happy hour thou comest
To aid me, goddess ; thy protecting hand
Hath ruled me ever, and to thee I trust 30
My future fate.
MiN. I know it well, Ulysses,
And therefore came to guard and to assist thee,
Propitious to thy purpose.
Ulys. Do I right.
My much-loved mistress ?
MiN. Doubtless ; his foul deed
6 The dogs of Sparta were remarkable for their swiftness
and quick scent.
I
AJAX. — ACT 1. 5
Doth well deserve it.
Ulys. What could prompt his hand 35
To such a desperate act ?
MiN. Achilles' arms ;
His rage for loss of them.
Ulys. But wherefore thus
Destroy the flock ?
MiN. 'Twas in your blood he thought
His hands were stain'd.
Ulys. Against the Grecians then
Was all his wrath ?
MiN. And fatal had it proved 40
To them, if I had not prevented it.
Ulys. What-daring insolence could move his soul
To such a deed ?
MiN. Alone by night he wander'd
In secret to attack you.
Ulys. Did he come
Close to our tents ?
MiN. Even to the double portal, 45
Where rest your chiefs.
Ulys. What power could then withhold
His maddening hand ?
Mix. I purposely deceived
His sight, and saved him from the guilty joy,
Turning his rage against the mingled flocks,
Your gather'd spoil : on these with violence 50
He rush'd, and slaughter^ many ; now he thought
That he had slain the Atridae, now believed
Some other chiefs had perish'd by his hand.
I saw his madness and still urged him on,
That he might fall into the snare I laid. 55
Tired with his slaughter, now he binds in chains
The living victim, drives the captive herd
Home to his tent, nor doubts but they are men :
There beats with many a stripe the helpless foe.
If
6
SOPHOCLES.
But I will show thee this most glaring frenzy, 60
That to the Grecians what thy eyes beheld
Thou mayst report : be confident, nor fear
His utmost malice ; I shall turn his sight
Askant from thee. Ajax, what, ho ! come forth ;
Thou, who dost bind in chains thy captive foes ; 60
Ajax, I say, come forth before the portal !
Ulys. What wouldst thou do, Minerva? Do not
call him.
MiN. What should Ulysses fear ?
Ulys. O ! by the gods
I do entreat thee, let him stay within.
MiN. But wherefore ? Thou hast seen him here be-
fore.
70
75
Ulys. He ever was, and is my deadliest foe.
MiN. O ! but to laugh an enemy to scorn
Is mirth most grateful.
Ulys. I had rather still
tie came not here.
MiN. And art thou then afraid
To see a madman ?
Ulys. I should little dread
The sight of Ajax in in his better mind.
MiN. He will not see thee be thou e'er so near.
Ulys. Impossible ! his eyes are still the same.
MiN. But I shall throw a veil of darkness
them.
Ulys. By powers immortal all things may be done.
MiN. Wait then in silence till he comes. 81
Ulys. i will ;
And yet *twere better to retire.
MiN. What, ho !
82 Sophocles has closely copied his great master, Homer,
in the character of Ulysses, who is drawn by them both as a
man of extraordinary prudence and circumspection, with
more caution than courage, and more cunning than gene-
rosity.
oer
AJAX. — ACT I. 7
Ajax, again I call thee ; wherefore pay'st thou
So little reverence to thy guardian power ?
AJAX, MINERVA, ULYSSES.
Ajax. Hail to the daughter of great Jove ! to thee,
Minerva, hail ! thou comest in happy hour ; 86
For I will crown thee with the golden spoils
Which I have gained by thy assisting hand.
MiN. Well hast thou spoke; but say, has Ajax
dipp'd
His spear in Grecian blood ?
Ajax. It is my boast ; 90
I'll not deny it.
MiN. Did the Atrid% feel
Thy vengeful arm ?
Ajax. They never will again
Dishonor Ajax.
Min. If I understand thee.
They are both dead. •
Ajax. They are ; now let them come,
And take my arms away.
MiN. But tell me, Ajax ; 95
Laertes' son, hath he escaped thy wrath ?
Ajax. Talk'st thou of him, that fox accursed;?
Min. I mean
Thy foe, Ulysses.
Ajax. O ! he is my captive.
The fairest of my spoils ; I have him here ;
He shall not perish yet.
Min. What 'vantage then 100
Meanest thou to draw from his confinement ?
Ajax. First,
ril have him bound to the pillar.
Min. And what then
Wouldst thou inflict ?
Ajax. His limbs all purled o'er
8
SOPHOCLES.
AJAX, — ACT I.
With many a bloody stripe, he shall be slain.
MiN. Do not torment him thus.
Ajax. In all things else, 105
Minerva, would I gratify thy will ;
But this, and this alone, must be his fate.
MiN. Since 'tis so pleasing to thee, be it so,
Nor quit thy purpose.
Ajax. I must to my work ;
Thus, great Minerva, mayst thou ever smile 110
Propitious on me, and assist thy Ajax ! [Exit,
MINERVA, ULYSSES.
MiN. Behold, Ulysses, here the mighty strength
Of power divine : lived there a man more wise.
More famed for noble deeds, than Ajax was ?
Ulys. None, none indeed ; alas ! I pity him ;
Ev'n in a foe I pity such distress.
For he is wedded to the worst of woes :
Hjs hapless state reminds me of my own,
And tells me that frail mortals are no more
Then a vain image and an empty shade.
MiN. Let such examples teach thee to beware
Against the gods thou utter ought profane ;
And if perchance in riches or in power
Thou shinest superior, be not insolent ;
For, know, a day sufficeth to exalt
Or to depress the state of mortal man :
The wise and good are by the gods beloved,
But those who practise evil they abhor.
115
120
125
[Exeunt.
CHORUS.
To thee, O Ajax, valiant son
Of illustrious Telamon,
130
129 The chorus is formed, with great propriety of Salami-
man soldiers, the countrymen and followers of Ajax, who,
having heard the report, ahready spread through the army, of
135
140
145
Monarch of the sea-girt isle,
Fair Salamis, if Fortune smile
On thee, I raise the tributary song,
For praise and virtue still to thee belong :
But when, inflicted by the wrath of Jove,
Grecian slander blasts thy fame,
And foul reproach attaints thy name,
Then do I tremble like the fearful dove.
So, the last unhappy night.
Clamors loud did reach mine ear
And fiird my anxious heart with fear.
Which talk'd of Grecian cattle slain.
And Ajax maddening o'er the plain,
Pleased at his prey, rejoicing at the sight.
Thus false Ulysses can prevail.
Whispering to all his artful tale,
V His tale, alas ! too willingly received ;
■| Whilst those who hear are glad to know,
^ And happy to insult thy wo ;
I For, who asperse the great are easily believed.
The poor, like us, alone are free
From the darts of calumny,
I Whilst envy still attends on high estate :
I Small is the aid which we can lend
Without the rich and powerful friend ; 155
I The great support the low, the low assist the great ;
But 'tis a truth which fools will never know.
From such alone the clamors came
Which strove to hurt thy spotless fame,
Whilst we can only weep, and not relieve thy wo. 160
Ajax's madness, and the slaughter of the cattle, express the
deepest concern for their unhappy master.
150
10
SOPHOCLES.
AJAX. — ACT II.
11
It sprang the first : such were the deeds of Ajax,
And I was witnefc of them ; I, the slave,
For so thou call'st me, sprung from a barbarian.
How dares a wretch like thee to talk of birtlj ?
Who was thy grandsire? Canst thou not remember
That old barbarian, Phrygian Pclops ? Tell me, 1221
Who was thy father ? Atreus, was he not ?
That worst of men, who at a brothers' table,
Served up his children, horrible repast !
Thy mother too a Cretan, and a slave ;
A vile adultress, whom thy father caught.
And headlong cast into the sea. Shalt thou
Talk then to me of birth ? to me, the son
Of valiant Telamon, renown'd in war.
And wedded to a queen, the royal race 1230
Of great Laomedon, and fairest gift
Of famed Alcides ? Thus of noble blood
From either parent sprung, shall I disgrace
The man, whom thou, inhuman ! wouldst still keep
Unburied here ? Dost thou not blush to think on't ?
But, mark me well ; if thou dost cast him forth, 1236
Not he alone inglorious on the plain
Shall lie ; together we will perish all :
To die with glory in a brother's cause,
Is better far than fighting for the wife 1240
Of Agamemnon or of Menelaus :
For thy own sake, and not for mine remember,
If thou'provoke me, thoa'lt be sorry for it,
And wish thou 'dst rather fear'd than anger'd Teucer.
ULYSSES, AGAMEMNON, MENELAUS, TEUCER, CHORUS .
Cho. Ulysses, if thou meanest not to inllame, 1215
But to compose this dreadful strife, thou comest ^
In happiest hour.
Ulys. Far off I heard the voice
Of the Atridaeo'er this wretched corse.
Whence rose the clamor, friends ?
Men. With bitterest words
This Teucer here, Ulysses, has reviled me. 1250
Ulys. What words? for if he heard the same from
thee,
I blame him not.
Aga. He did provoke me to it.
Ulys. What injury hath he done thee ?
Aga. H® declares
The body shall have sepulture ; himself
Perforce will bury Ajax, spite of me,
And of my power.
Ulys. Shall I be free, and speak
The truth to thee, without reproach or blame ?
Aga. Thou mayst; for well thou kuow'st I
Ulysses,
Of all the Greeks, my best and dearest friend.
Ulys. Then hear me: by the gods, I must intreat ihee,
1255
hold
Do not, remorseless and inhuman cast
The body foith unburied, nor. permit
Authority to trample thus on justice.
E'er since our contest for Achilles' arms,
Hath Ajax been my foe, and yet I scorn
To use him basely : ev'n Ulysses owns,
Of all the Grecian chiefs who came to Troy,
Except Achilles, Ajax was the bravest.
Do not deny him then the honors due
1261
1265
48
SOPHOCLES.
AJAX. — ACT V.
49
To worth so great ; for know, it were a crime, 1270
Not against him alone, but 'gainst the gods ;
A violation of the laws divine.
To hurt the brave and virtuous after death,
Ev'n though he lived thy foe, is infamous.
Aga, Plead \st thou for Ajax ?
Ulys. Yes ; I was liis foe 1275
Whilst justice would permit me; but he*s dead :
Therefore thou'shouldst not triumph, nor rejoice
With mirth unseemly, o'er a vanquish'd man.
Aga. 'Tis not so easy for a king to act
By honor's strictest rule,
Ulys. 'Tis always so, 1280
To hearken to the counsels of a friend.
When he advises well.
Aga. But know, the good
And virtuous still submit to those who rule.
Ulys. No more : when thou art vanquish'd by thy
friends,
Thou art thyself the conqueror.
Aga. Still remember 1285
For whom thou plead'st, Ulysses !
Ulys. For a foe,
But for a brave one.
Aga. Dost thou thus revere,
Ev'n after death, thy enemy ?
Ulys. I do :
Virtue is dearer to me than revenge. 1289
Aga. Such men are most unstable in their ways.
Ulys. Our dearest friend may one day be our foe.
Aga. Dost thou desire such friends ?
Ulys. I cannot love
Or praise the unfeeling heart.
Aga. This day shall Greece
Mark us for cowards,
Ulys. Greece will call as just.
Aga. Wouldst thou persuade me then to grant him
burial ? ^295
Ulys. I would, and for that purpose came I hither.
Aga. How every man consults his own advantage,
And acts but for himself !
Ui^YS. And who is he
Whom I should wish to serve before Ulysses ?
Aga. 'Tis thy own work, remember, and not mine.
Ulys. The deed will win thee praise, and every
tongue 1301
Shall call thee good.
Aga. Thou know'st I'd not refuse
Ulysses more, much more than this ; but Ajax,
Or buried or unburied, is the same.
And must be hateful still to Agamemnon : 1305
But do as it beseems thee best.
Cho. Ulysses !
The man who says thou art not wise and good.
Is senseless and unjust.
Ulys. I tell thee, Teucer,
Henceforth I am as much the friend of Ajax,
As once I was his foe ; ev'n now I mean 1310
To join with thee, a fellow-laborer
In all the pious offices of love ;
Nor would omit, what every man should pay.
The honors due to each exhalted virtue. 1314
Teu. O best of men ! thou hast my thanks and praise,
And well deservest them, for thou hast transcended
My utmost hopes. I little thought the worst
Of all his foes among the Grecian host
Would thus alone defend, alone protect
The dead from insult, when these thundering leaders
United came, to cast his body forth 1321
With infamy : but may the god, who rules
O'er high Olympus, and the vengeful Furies
SOPH. D
50
SOPHOCLES.
1
Daughters of Jove the guilt- rewarding sisters,
With all-deciding justice, soon repay 1335
The haughty tyrants ; for thy offer'd aid,
Son of Laertes, in the funeral rites, —
Perhaps it might offend the honor'd shade
Of our dead friend ; it cannot be accepted.
For all beside we thank thee : if thou wilt'st 1330
To send assistance from the Grecian camp,
'Twill be received ; the rest shall be my care.
Thou hast performed the duty of a frien'd.
And we acknowlege it.
Ulys. I would have lent
My willing aid ; but since it must not be, 1335
I shall submit : farewell.
[Exit Ulysses.
AGAMEMNON, MENEAULS, TEUCER, EURYSACES,
CHORUS.
Teu. Thus far is right :
The time already past doth chide our sloth.
My friends, be vigilant : let some prepare
The hollow foss ; some o'er the sacred flame
Place the rich tripod for the funeral bath : 1340
Forth from the camp a chosen band must bear
His glittering arms, and trophies of the war.
Do thou, my child, if thou hast strength, uplift
[To Eurysaces.
Thy father's body : see, the veins, yet warm.
Spout forth with blood. Haste, help, assist me, all
Who bear the name of friends, and pay with me 1346
Your last sad duties to the noble Ajax;
For never was on earth a better man.
Cho. Whate'er of good or ill weak mortals know,
Must from their best of guides, experience, flow. 1350
Seek then no farther : for to man is given
The present state ; the future left to Heaven,
E L E C T R A
DRAMATIS PERSONS.
Electra, daughter of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra.
Orestes, brother of Electra.
Pylades, friend of Orestes.
GovERXOR of Orestes-
Clytemnestra, wife of ^Egisthus.
Chrysothemis, sister of Electra.
^GiSTHUS, king of Argos ana iviycense.
Chorus, composed of the principal ladies of Mycense.
ELECTRA.
ARGUMENT.
After Agamemnon had been assassinated by his wife Cly-
temnestra and her paramour ^gisthus, Orestes, then an in-
fant was preserved from a participation in the same fate
by his sister Electra, who privately conveyed him to the
court of Strophius, king of Phocis, who treated him with the
utmost kindness, and educated him with his son Pylades,
with whom he contracted an indissoluble friendship. On
attaining years of maturity, Orestes, together with his com-
panion, visited the city of Mycense in disguise, and, by the
assistance of his governor, deluded the adulterous pair into
a fatal security, by a report which he propagated of his
death. Having at length discovered himself to Electra.
. who willingly co-operated with him in the prosecution of
his revenge, he slew his mother during the absence of the
tyrant, who, on his return, received the just punishment of
his atrocious guilt.
ACT I.
Scene, Mycenae, before the palace of JEgisthns.
ORESTES, PYLADES, GOVERNOR OF ORESTES.
Gov. O SOX of great Alrides, he who led
Embattled Greece to Troy*s devoted walls ;
At length behold what thy desiring eyes
So long have sought ; behold thy native soil,
Thy much-loved Argos, and the hallow'd grove
Of lo, frantic maid : on this side lies
6 lo, the daughter of Inachus, who was transformed into a
^i
54
ELECTRA. — ACT I.
55
SOPHOCLES.
10
15
20
The Lycian forum ; on the left, the fane
Of Juno far renown'd : behold ! we come
To rich Mycenae, and the slaughterous house
Of Pelop's hapless race, from whose sad walls
Long since I bore thee, at thy sister's hand
Gladly received, and with paternal care
To this bless'd day have foster'd up thy youth,
Till riper years should give thee to return,
And pay with dire revenge thy father's murder.
Now, my Orestes ! and thou dear companion
Of all our sufferings, much-loved Pylades !
Let deepest counsel sway our just resolves ;
For, lo ! resplendent Phoebus, with his light.
Calls up the cheerful birds to early song,
And gloomy Night hath lost her starry train :
Come then ; my friends, and ere the awakenM city
Pours forth her busy throngs, this instant here
Let us consult : believe me, 'tis no time
For full delay ; 'tis the decisive hour, 35
And this the very crisis of our fate.
Ores. What proofs thou givest me of the noblest
nature
And true benevolence, thou good old man !
Of servants sure the faithfulest and best
That ever bore the name. The generous steed, 30
Though worn with years, thus keeps his wonted cou-
rage.
And warns his master of approaching danger :
Like him, thou stirr'st me up to noble deeds.
And follow'st me undaunted j and, if I err,
Let thy superior judgment set me right.
When to the Delphic oracle I flew,
35
heifer by Jupiter, to conceal her from the rage of Juno, who
discovered and placed her under the guardianship of Argus.
7 A place sacred to Apollo.
40
45
50
Eager to know how on my father's foes
I best might satiate my revenge, the god
Enjoin'd me not by force, or open arms,
To rush upon them ! but with guileful arts,
And silent, well conducted fraud, betray them.
Such was his will : thou, therefore, soon as time
Shall lend thee opportunity, unknown
And unsuspected (as thy absence hence
For so long space, and hoary age shall make thee)
Must steal upon them, learn their secret counsels,
As soon thou mayst, and quick inform us of them;
Say thou'rt of Phocis, from Phanoteus sent
By one who is their friend and firm ally :
Say, and confirm it with a solemn oath,
Orestes is no more, by a rude shock
Thrown from his chariot at the Pythian games ;
Be this thy tale. Meantime (for thus the god
His will divine express'd) my father's tomb
.With due libations and devoted hair
Ourselves will crown ; and thence returning, bring.
From the dark covert where thou know'st 'twas hid,
The brazen urn ; there, we shall tell the tyrant.
Thrice welcome news ! Orestes' ashes lie.
What should deter me from the pious fraud.
Since my feign'd death but gains me real fame,
And I shall wake to better life ? the deed.
Which brings success and honor, must be good.
Oftimes the wisest and the best of men.
From death like this, have rose with added greatness ;
Ev'n so^thy friend to his deluded foes
Shall soon return unlook'd-for, and before them
Shine like a star with more distinguished lustre.
49 Phanoteus was a small town of Phocis, a city of Greece,
famous for the oracle of Delphos : according to Strabo, it was
formerly called Panope*
55
60
65
56
SOPHOCLES.
ELECtRA. — ACT I.
57
ll
I
O my loved country, and its guardian gods ! 70
Receive Orestes, and with happy omen
Propitious smile ; and thou paternal seat!
For, lo ! by Heaven's command I come to purge thee,
Of vile usurpers, and avenge thy wrong.
Drive me not from thee an abandon'd exile 75
With infamy, but grant me to possess
My father's throne, and fix his injured race.
Thus far 'tis well : my faithful minister!
Thou to thy office, we to ours with speed ;
So time and opportunity require, 80
On whom the fate of mortals must depend.
Elec. [from within.] O misery !
Gov. Methought a mournful voice
Spake from within.
Ores. Perhaps the poor Electra :
Shall we not stay and hearken to it?
Gov. No:
First be Apollo's great behests obey'd 85
Before thy father's tomb ; that pious deed
Performed shall fire our souls with nobler warmth.
And crown our bold attempt with fair success. [Exeunt'
electra.
sacred light ! and, O, thou ambient air !
Oft have ye heard Electra's loud laments,
Her sighs and groans, and witness'd to her woes,
Which ever, as each hateful morn appear'd,
1 pour'd before you ; what at eve retired
I felt of anguish, my sad couch alone
Can tell, which, water'd nightly with my tears,
Received me sorrowing : that best can tell
What pangs I suffer'd for a hapless father.
Whom not the god of war with ruthless hand
Struck nobly fighting in a distant soil ;
90
95
But my fell mother, and the cursed ^gisthus, 100
The partner of her bed, remorseless slew.
Untimely didst thou fall, lamented shade !
And none but poor Electra mourns thy fate ;
Nor shall she cease to mourn thee, while these eyes
View the fair heavens, or behold the sun; 105
Never, O ! never like the nightingale,
Whose plaintive song bewails her ravish'd brood ;
Here will I still lament my father's wrongs.
And teach the echo to repeat my moan.
O ye infernal Deities ! and thou, 110
Terrestrial Hermes ! and thou, Nemesis,
Replete with curses ! and ye vengeful Furies !
Offspring of gods, the ministers of wrath
To vile adulterers, who with pity view
The slaughtered innocent, behold this deed. 115
O ! come, assist, revenge my father's murder ;
Quickly, O ! quickly bring me my Orestes ;
F6r, lo ! 1 sink beneath oppressive wo,
And can no longer bear the weight alone. !
CHORUS, electra.
Cho. O wretched daughter of an impious mother !
Wilt thou for ever mourn ; for ever thus, 121
With unavailing tears and endless sorrow,
Lament the royal Agamemnon's fate,
By a vile woman's wicked arts betray'd ?
Perish the hand (forgive the pious curse, 125
Ye heavenly powers !) that gave the deadly blow !
Elec. My noble friends, and partners in affliction,
106 Philomela, the daughter of Pandion, and sister of
Procne, the wife of Tereus. The poet, both in this and the
following scene, takes the nightingale for Procne ; as it was
Procne, and not Philomela, who served up her son Itys to
Tereus, in revenge for the injury done to her sister. Ms-
chylus, Euripides, and Aristophanes also, suppose Procne to
have been changed into a nightingale.
58
SOPHOCLES.
130
140
Who thus, to soothe my sorrows, kindly try
Each art which love and friendship can inspire ;
Ye come to comfort me, I know ye do ;
I know my tears are fruitless all and vain ;
But, O ! permit me to indulge my griefs,
For I must weep.
Cho^ Thy tears can ne'er recall him
From the dark mansions of the common grave,
No, nor thy prayers ; they can but make thee wretched.
And sink thee deeper in calamity : 136
Why art thou then so fond of misery ?
Elec. Devoid of sense and feeiinj? is the heart
That can forget an injured parent's wrongs.
I love the airy messenger of Jove ;
The mournful bird that weeps her Itys' fate,
And every night repeats the tender tale ;
Thee too I reverence as a goddess, thee,
Unhappy Niobe ! for still thou weep'st,
And from the marble tears eternal How.
Cho. But, O ! reflect that not to thee alone
Misfortune comes, that comes to all : behold
Iphianassa and Chrysothemis,
And him who hides his grief, illustrious youth,
The loved Orestes ; these have suffered too.
Elec. Orestes ! yes, Mycenae shall receive
In happy hour her great avenger ; Jove
With smiles auspicious shall conduct him to me.
For him alone I wait ; for him, a wretch
Despised, of children and of nuptial rites
Hopeless I wander ; he remembers not
What I have done for him, what suffered ; still
140 Procne, called the messenger of Jove, from ushering in
the spring. See the note on Philomela. ^ ^ ^
144 Niobe, the daughter of Tantalus, and queen of Thebes J
feigned by the poets to be turned into stone, after the death
of her children.
148 The sisters of Electra.
145
150
155
ELECTRA. — ACT I.
59
160
165
With airy promises he mocks my hopes,
And yet he comes not to me.
Cho. ■'^"^ '^^ ^
Despair not, daughter ; Jove is yet in heaven.
The god who sees, and knows, and governs all :
Patient to him submit, nor let thy rage
Too far transport thee, nor oblivion drown
The just remembrance of thy matchless woes.
Time is a kind, indulgent deity,
And he shall give thee succor; he shall send
The god of Acheron, from Chrysa's shores
To bring Orestes, and avenge thy wrongs.
Elec. O ! but the while how much of life is gone !^
And I, a hopeless, wretched orphan still, 170
Without a friend to guard or to protect me ;
Disgraced, dishonor'd, like a stranger clad
In base attire, and fed with homeliest fare !
Cho. Sad news indeed the hapless messenger
To Argos brought, that spoke the wish'd return
Of thy loved father to his native soil ;
Fatal the night when Agamemnon fell
Or by a mortal or immortal hand ;
The work of fraud and lust, a horrid deed !
Whoe'er perform'd it.
gLg^.^ O detested feast !
O day, the bitterest sure that ever rose !
With him I perish 'd then ; but may the gods
Repay the murderers ; never may they hear
The voice of joy, or taste of comfort more.
Cho. Cease thy complaints : already hast thou suf-
fered ^^
167 Chrysa was a town of Phocis, of which Strophius, the
father of Pylades, was king. This was the place where
Orestes was privately educated, and accounts for the cele-
brated friendship of the two princes.
175
180
60
SOPHOCLES.
ELECTRA.— ACT I.
61
For thy loud discontents and threatened vengeance.
'Tis folly to contend with power superior.
Elec. Folly, indeed, and madness ! but my griefs
Will force their way ; and whilst Electra breathes
She must lament ; for who will bring me comfort, 190
Or soothe my sorraws ? Let me, let me go,
And weep for ever.
qho, 'Tis my love intreats ;
Trust me, I feel a mother's fondness for thee,
And fain would save thee from redoubled woes.
Elec. And wouldst thou have me then neglect the
dead ? . ^^^
Forget my father? Can there be such guilt?
When I do so, may infamy pursue me ;
And, if I wed, may all the joys of love
Be far removed ! if vengeance doth not fall
On crimes like these, for ever, farewell, justice ! 200
Shame, honor, truth, and piety, farewell !
Cho. Pardon me, daughter ! if my warmth offend,
Glad I submit ; we'll follow, and obey thee.
Elec. I am myself to blame, and blush to think
How much unfit I seem to bear the weight
Imposed upon me ; but indeed His great.
Forgive me, friends ? a woman born as I am,—
Must she not grieve to see each added minute
Fraught with new miseries ? thus to be a slave
E'en in my father's house, and from those hands
Which shed his blood to ask the means of life ?
Think what my soul must suffer to behold
The cursed ^gisthus seated on the throne
Of Agamemnon, in the very robes
Which once were his ! to see the tyrant pour
Libations forth ev'n on the fatal spot
193 The Chorus is composed of the principal matrons of
rank and quality in Mycense.
206
210
215
Where the sad deed was done ! but worst of all,
To see the murderer usurp his bed,
Embrace my mother, (by that honor'd name
If I may call a guilty wretch like her,) 220
Who, pleased, returns his love, and of her crimes
Unconscious, smiles, nor fears the avenging Furies ;
But ever, as the bloody day returns
Which gave the royal victim to her wiles,
Annual the dance and choral song proclaim 225
A solemn feast ; nor impious sacrifice
Forgets she then to her protecting gods,
Shock'd at the cruel banquet, I retire,
And in some corner hide my griefs, denied
Ev'n the sad comfort to indulge my sorrows ; 230
For Clytemnestra, in opprobrious terms.
Reviles me oft: — ' To thee alone,' she cries,
* Is Agamemnon lost, detested maid?
Think'st thou Electra only weeps his fate?
Perdition on thee! May the infernal gods 235
Refuse thee succor, and protract thy pains !*
Thus rails she bitter ; and if chance she hear
Orestes is approaching, stung with rage,
Wild she exclaims, — ' Thou art the accursed cause ;
This is thy deed, who stole Orestes from me, 240
And hid him from my rage ; but be assured,
Ere long my vengeance shall o'ertake thee for it !*
These threats her noble lord still urges on ;
That vile adulterer, that abandoned coward.
Whose fearful soul call'd in a woman's aid 245
To execute his bloody purposes.
Meantime, Electra sighs for her Orestes,
Her wish'd avenger ; his unkind delay
Destroys my hopes. Alas ! my gentle friends,
Who can bear this, and ktep an equal mind ? 250
To suffer ills like mine, and not to err
g2 SOPHOCLES.
From wild distraction, would be strange indeed !
Cho. But say, Electra! is the tyrant near.
Or may we speak our thoughts unblamed .^^^^ ^^^^^
I had not else beyond the palace dared
To wander hither. ... <
Cho. But soft ; behold the fair Chrysothemis
Advance this way, and in her hand she bears
Sepulchral offerings to the shades below.
CHRYSOTHEMIS, ELECTRA, CHORUS.
Chry. Still my Electra pouring forth thy griefs ?
Are thou not yet by sad experience taught
How little they avail? I too must feel
And could resent, as, were thy sister^ power
But equal to her will, our foes should know
Meantime with lower'd sail to bear the storm
Befits us best, nor, helpless as we are.
With idle hopes to meditate revenge.
268 The sepulchral offerings ^-e me:nti^^^^^^^
rally honey. -"^^«^V "^he 'ghot pro^^^^^^^^^ weJe poured on
fh"1?old'or"grte."^^^^ toWr with a certain form
of words, offered to the deceased.
ELECTRA. — ACT I.
63
275
Yield then with me ; and, though impartial justice
Plead on thy side, remember, if we prize
Or life or liberty, we must obey.
Elec. It ill becomes great Agamemnon's daughter
Thus to forget her noble father's worth. 281
And take a base unworthy mother's part ;
For well I see from whom thy counsels flow ;
Naught from thyself thou say'st but all from her:
Either thy reason's lost, or if thou hast it, 285
Thou hast forgot thy friends, who should be dear
And precious to thee : if thy boasted hate
Against our foes, and what thou vaunt'st to do,
If thou hadst power, I reck not: whilst with me
Thou wilt not join in great revenge, but still 290
Dissuadest me from it. Is't not cowardly
To leave me thus ? Tell me, I beg thee, tell me.
What mighty gain awaits my tame submission,
Should I supress my griefs : I can but live ;
Tliat I do now a wretched life indeed ! 295
But 'tis enough for me, and I am happy.
Whilst I can torture them, and to the dead
Pay grateful honors, if to them such care
Aught grateful can bestow. Thy hate, I fear me.
Is but in word : thou dost befriend the murderers. 300
For me, not all the wealth they could bestow,
Not all the gifts which they have pour'd on thee.
Should bind me to them : take thy costly banquets,
And let thy days with ease and pleasure flow :
Give me but food and I am satisfied. 305
I wish not for thy honors ; nor wouldst thou,
If thou wert wise, receive them at their hands.
Thou mightst been daughter to the best of fathers,
And art thy mother's only ; take that name ;
And henceforth all shall mark thee as a wretch, 310
Who hath betray'd her father and her friends.
Cho. I do intreat you, let not anger come
1
64
SOPHOCLES.
ELECTRA. — ACT I.
65
Between you thus ; you both have reasonM well,
And much of mutual benefit may flow, ^^^
Tf pach to other lend a patient ear.
Chry Custom, my noble friends! bath made re-
proach
Familiar to me ; and so well I know
Hear haughty mind, I had been silent still,
But that I saw the danger imminent,
And came to warn her of the fatal stroke, 320
Which Toon must end her and her griefs together
Elec Tell me this mighty danger : if aught more
It threaten than Electra long hath borne,
I ,ield me to thy counsels. ^^^^ ^^ ,,,„ ,
KnoTtbou art doom'd, unless thou dost refrain 325
Thy clamorous griefs, far from the light of day,
And this thy native soil, within a cell
Dismal and dark to spend the poor remains
Of thy sad life, and there lament thy fate.
Elec. Is it decreed ? Must it in truth be so?
Chry. Soon as ^gisthus shall return, it must.
Elec. Quick let him come : I long to see
here.
Chry Alas ! what imprecations these T
Elec * Would he were present, if for this he comes !
Chry. What! to destroy thee? is thy mmd dis-
turb'd ? ^ ^1 • t.4.
Elec That I might fly for ever from thy sight.
Chry Wilt thou not think how to preserve thy lile .
Elec* Mine is a blessed life indeed to think of!
Chry. It might be blessed, if thou wouldst have it
ELEc'^Teach me not basely to betray i?^y/"ends.
Chry. I do not ; all I ask thee is to yield 341
To powers superior.
£^tc. Fawn on them thyself;
330
him
Thou dost not know Electra.
Chry. Sure, it better
Deserves the name of wisdom to avoid
Than hasten thy destruction.
JElec. No ; to die 345
Were pleasure, could I but avenge my father.
Chry. Our father, doubt it not, will pardon thee.
Elec. 'Tis mean to think so.
Chry. Wilt thou not consent ?
Elec Never, O ! never, be my soul so weak.
Chry. Then to my errand : fare thee well.
Elec To whom, 350
Chrysothemis ! and whither dost thou bear
Those sacred offerings ?
Chry. To our father's tomb,
From Clytemnestra.
Elec To the man she hated ?
The man, my sister —
Chry. Whom she kill'd, I know.
Thou wouldst say.
Elec Why, what should move her to it ? 355
Chry. If I mistake not, horrors late impress'd,
Prom a sad vision.
Elec O my country's gods !
Succor me now !
Chry. What hopes dost thou conceive
From this P
Elec The dream : and I will tell thee all.
Chry. I know but little of it.
Elec Tell me that: 360
Ofttimes to words, how few soe'er they be,
Is given the power to save or to destroy.
Chry. Once more to light return'd, (so fame re-
ports)
Before her our loved father did appear,
SOPH. B
66
SOPHOCLES.
370
375
380
The royal sceptre wielded in his hand, 365
Which now ^Egisthus bears ; whence seemM to spring
A green and leafy branch, whose wide extent
O'er all Mycenae spread its verdant shade :
This did I learn, and this alone, from one
Who listened long attentive, while she told
Her vision to the Sun ; hence all her fears,
And hence my destined journey.
Elec. By the gods
Let me conjure thee, hear me ; if thou dost not,
Too late shalt thou repent, when for thy guilt
Evil o'ertake thee. O Chrysothemis !
Never, I beg thee, to our father's tomb
Bear thou those offerings ; 'twere a horrid deed,
From such a woman ; give them to the winds,
Let them be hid, deep buried in the sands.
And not the smallest grain escape, to reach
That hallow'd place ; let them remain for her.
Safe in the earth till she shall meet them there.
None but this shameless, this abandon'd woman,
Would e'er with impious offerings thus adorn
The tomb of him she murder'd : by the dead
Think'st thou such gifts can be with joy received ?
Gifts from that hand, which from his mangled corse
Severed his lifeless limbs, and on the head
Of the poor victim wiped her bloody sword.
Madness, to think that offerings and ablutions 390
Could purge such crimes, or wash her stains away !
Never, O ! never : but of this no more.
Instant, my sister ! thy devoted hair,
871 It was customary among the ancients, when they had
been terrified by bad dreams, to open their windows in the
morning, and relate their dreams to the Sun, who, they ima-
gined, as he had power to dispel the darkness, could also turn
aside all the evils which the preceding night had threatened
them with.
385
ELECTRA.-— ACT I.
67
With these dishevell'd locks, and this my zone,
Plain as it is, and unadorn'd, shalt thou * 395
Bear to our father : wretched offerings these.
But, O ! 'tis all Electra now can give.
Bear them, and suppliant on thy knees implore him
10 smile propitious, and assist his children.
Fray for Orestes too, that soon with power 400
He may return, and trample on our foes •
So shall a fairer tribute one day grace
His honor'd tomb, than now we can bestow.
Trust me, my sister ! we are still his care,-^
I know we are ; from him the vision came, 405
The horrid dream, that shook her guilty soul.
Now then, I beg thee, be a friend to me ;
Be to thyself a friend, a friend to him.
Of all mankind the dearest, our dead father.
Cho. Well doth the pious virgin speak, and thou
Must yield to her requests.
„,^"'*^- And so I will. 411
Where reason dictates, strife should never come:
But, quick, despatch, fulfil her just commands;
Yet, O my friend .' remember, our attempt
is full of danger, and let naugh escape 4I6
1 hat may betray me to my cruel mother!
For, if it reach her ear, this daring act,
I fear me much, shall one day cost us dear.
^Exit Chrysothemis.
CHORUS.
STROPHE.
Or my prophetic mind is now no more
Attentive as of old to wisdom's lore, 420
Or justice comes, with speedy vengeance fraught :
Behold ! the goddess arm'd with power appears ;
It must be so by Clytemnestra's fears,
And the dire dream that on her fancy wrought.
es
SOPHOCLES.
425
Thy father, not unmindful of his fate,
ShAll hither come, his wrongs to vindicate ;
And, in his gore imbrued,
The fatal axe with him shall rise,
Shall ask another sacrifice.
And drink with him the cruel tyrant's blood. 430
ANTISTROPHE.
Lo! with unnumber'd hands, and countless feet,
The fury comes, her destined prey to meet :
Deep in the covert hid, she glides unseen,
Hangs o'er the trembling murderer's head,
Or steals to the adulterous bed, 435
An awful witness of the'guilty scene.
Doubtless, the dream, with all its terrors, meant,
For crimes like these, some dreadful punishment.
If mortals aught from mighty visions know;
If truth from great Apollo's shrine 440
Appear in oracles divine.
Presaging bliss to come, or threatening future wo.
EPODE.
O Pelops ! to thy country and to thee
The fatal course brought wo and misery ;
For since the time when from his chariot thrown, 445
For thee the guilty wreath to gain,
The hapless Myrtilus was slain.
Naught as thy wretched race but grief and sorrow
known.
446 CEnomaushad a beautiful daughter, named Hippodamia.
whom he refused to give in marriage, because the oracle de-
dared that a son-in-law would be fatal to him; he promised,
however, to bestow his daughter on any man who should
conquer him in the chariot-race, on condition that all wha
were vanquished by him should be put to death: many boll
adventurers accepted the terms, and perished in the attempt :
the horses of CEuomaus were swift as the wind, and conse-
quently invincible. These examples, however, did not deter
Pelops, who entered the lists against (Enomaus, and bribed
ELECTRA. — ACT II.
A C T 11.
69
CLYTF.MNESTRA, ELECTRA, CHORUS.
Cly. yEciSTHUs absent, who alone could curb
Thy haughty spirit, and licentious tongue.
At large, it seems, thou rovest, and unrestrained, 450
No difference paid to my authority ;
But on thy mother ever pouring forth
Bitter invectives, while the listening crowd
Are taught to hold me proud, and fierce of soul ;
A lawless tyrant, slandering thee and thine. 455
I am no slanderer ; I abhor the name ;
But oft reviled, of force I must reply.
And send my foul reproaches back upon thee.
Thou say'st I slew thy father ; that alone 460
Is left to plead for all thy insolence.
I do confess the deed, and glory in it.
I slew thy father; yet not I alone;
I had the hand of justice to assist me.
And should have had Electra's : well thou know'st.
That cruel father, for whom thus thy tears 465
Incessant flow, that father slew his child.
He — he alone, of all the Grecian host
Gave up his daughter — horrid sacrifice !
his charioteer, Myrtilus, with a promise of half his king-
dom, if he succeeded. Myrtilus listened to his offers, and
purposely forgot to put the pins into the wheels of his mas-
ter s chariot, which broke in pieces in the middle of the
course. Pelops espoused Hippodamia, but afterwards, in-
stead of performing his promise to Myrtilus, chose rather to
get rid of this instrument of treachery by throwing him into
the sea. Mercury, who, it seems, was the father of Myrtilus,
revenged the murder of his son, by entailing curses on Pelops
and all his posterity. It appears by this that the heathens
believed that God punished the crimes of fathers on their
children, to the third and fourth generation.
I
70
SOPHOCLES.
ELECTRA. — ACT II.
71
To the offended gods ; he never felt
A mother's pangs, and therefore thought not of them ;
Or if he did, why slay the innocent ? 471
For Greece, thou tell'st me : Greece could never claim
A right to what was mine : or did she fall
For Menelaus? he had children too :
Why might not they have died ? Their parents* guil^,
Source of the war, more justly have deserved it. 476
Or think'st thou death with keener appetite
Could feast on mine, and Helen's not afford
As sweet a banquet ? Why was ail the love
To me and to my child ; so justly due, 480
With lavish hand bestow'd on Menelaus ?
Was he not then a base, inhuman father ?
He was ; and so, could Iphigenia speak,
Thy breathless sister, she too would declare.
Know, then, I grieve not ; shame or penitence 485
I feel not for the deed ; and if to thee
It seems so heinous, weigh each circumstance ;
Remember what he did, and lay the blame
On him, who well deserved the fate he suffered.
Elec. Thou hast no plea for bitterness like this :
Thou canst not say that I provoked thee to it. 491
I have been silent : had I leave to speak,
I could defend an injured father's cause.
And tell thee wherefore Iphigenia fell.
Cly. I do permit thee; and if modest thus 495
Thou hast address'd me always, thy free speech
Had ne'er offended.
Elec. Hast thou not confess'd
That thou didst slay my father? Whether Justice
Approve or not, 'twas horrid to confess it :
But Justice never could persuade thee : no, 500
I '11 tell thee who it was : it was JEgisthus,
The wretch with whom thou livest. Go, ask the goddess,
The immortal huntress, why the winds were stayed
So long at Aulis ; but thou must not ask
The chaste Diana ; take it then from me. 505
My father once, as, for the chase prepared.
Careless he wander'd through her sacred grove,
Forth from its covert roused a spotted hind
Of fairest form, with towering antlers graced,
Pursued, and slew her : of the Deity 510
Something, with pride elate, he utter'd then
Disdainful : quick resenting the affront,
Latona's daughter stay'd the Grecian lleet.
Nor would forgive, till for her slaughter'd beast
The offending father sacrificed his child. 515
Thus Iphigenia fell ; and but for her,
Greece ne'er had seen, or Ilion's lofty towers.
Or her own native soil ; the father strove
In vain to save ; and not for Menelaus
He gave her up at last, but for his country. 520
Suppose a brother's fondness had prevail'd.
And she was given for him ; would that excuse
Thy horrid deed ? what law required it of thee P
That law alone, by which thyself must fall ;
If blood for blood be due, thy doom is fix'd. 525
Plead not so poorly then ; but tell me why
Thou livest adulterous thus with a vile ruffian,
Thy base assistant? Why are those, who sprung
From thy first nuptials, cast unkindly forth.
For his new race ? Was this thy piety ? 530
Was this too to revenge thy daughter's death ?
In pure revenge to wed her deadliest foe,
Was noble, was it not ? but I forget.
You are my mother, so it seems you say,
And I must hold my peace ; but I deny it : 535
I say you are my mistress, not my mother ;
A cruel mistress that aflicts my soul.
I'
72
SOPHOCLES.
ELECTllA. —ACT II.
73
And make tliis weary life a burden to me.
Orestes too, the hapless fugitive,
Who once escaped thy fatal hand, now drags 540
A loathsome being : him, thou say'st, I look'd for
To join in my revenge, and so I did ;
I would have been revenged, I tell thee so.
Say, I am base, malicious, impudent,
Abusive, what thou wilt ; for if I am, 545
It speaks my birth, and I resemble thee.
CTho. Resentment deep hath fired the virgin's breast ;
Whether with truth and justice on her side
Slie speak, I know not.
Cly. Can they plead for her?
W^hat care, what love, or tenderness is due 650
To an abandon'd child, who shameless, thus
Reviles a parent ? Is there, after this,
A crime in nature she would blush to act P
Elec. I am not base, nor shameless, as thou calPst
me ;
For know, e*en now I blush for what is past, 555
Indecent warmth, and words that ill become
My tender years and virgin modesty :
But 'twas thy guilt, thy malice, urged me to it.
From bad examples bad alone we learn ;
I only err'd because I follow'd thee. 560
Cly. Impudent wretch ! and am I then the cause
Of all thy clamorous insolence ?
Elec. Thou art :
Foul is thy speecli, because thy deed was foul ;
For words from actions flow.
Cly. By chaste Diana,
Soon as ^gisthus comes, thy boldness meets 565
Its just reward.
Elec. Is this thy promised leave,
§0 lately granted, freely to unfold,
What now, incensed, thou dost refuse to hear?
Cly. Have I not heard thee ; and, in base return.
With luckless omen dost thou now retard 570
My pious sacrifice ?
Elec. O ! far from me
Be guilt like that ; perform it, I beseech thee :
In holy silence shall these lips be closed,
And not a word escape to thwart thy purpose.
Cly. [speaking to one of her attendants J\
Hither do thou the sacred offerings bring, 575
Of various fruits composed, that to the god.
Whose altars we adorn, my fervent prayer
May rise accepted, and dispel my fears.
Hear then, Apollo, great protector ! hear
My secret vows, for with no friendly ear [softly.'] 580
My voice is heard ; her malice would betray.
Should I unveil my heart, each word I utter' d.
And scatter idle rumors through the crowd.
Thus then accept my prayers, Lycean Phoebus ! [aloud^
If in the doubtful visions of the night, 585
Which broke my slumbers, aught presaging good
Thou seest, propitious, O ! confirm it all:
But if of dire portent, and fraught with ill, '
To me and mine they came, avert the omen,
And send the evil back upon my foes ! 590
O ! if there are, whose fraudful arts conspire
To cast me forth from all my present bliss.
Let them not prosper, but protect me still.
Grant me to live and reign in quiet here.
To spend each happy hour with those I love ; 595
With those my children, who have ne'er oflFended
By malice, pride, and bitterness of soul:
Grant this, indulgent Phoebus ! What remains
596 Iphianassa and Chrysothemis, who had not aflfronted
her, in opposition to Electra, who had.
698 Most probably the death of Orestes and Electra, which
•V
74
SOPHOCLfiS.
EtECTRA. — ACT II.
75
Unask'd, thou seest ; for naught escapes the eye
Of gods; such knowledge have the sons of Jove. 600
GOVERNOR OF ORESTES, CLYTEMNESTRA, ELECTRA,
CHORUS.
Gov. Is this the royal palace of ^gisthus ?
Cho. Stranger, it is.
Gov. And this (for such her form
And look majestic speak her) is his queen ;
Is it not so P
Cno. It is.
Gov. Great sovereign, hail !
With joyful news I come, and from a friend, 605
To thee, and to ^Egisthus.
Cly. Stranger, welcome !
Say, first, from whom thy message P
Gov, From Phanoleus ;
A Phocian sends thee things of utmost moment.
Cly. Of moment, say 'st thou? what! impart them
quick !
Of friendly import, if from thence they come, 610
I know they must be.
Gov. Briefly then, 'tis this ;
Orestes is no more.
Elec. • Undone Electra !
Now am I lost indeed.
Cly. What say'st thou ? speak !
Regard not her ; go on.
Gov. I say again,
Orestes is no more.
Elec. Then what am I ? 615
I too am nothing.
Cly. [to Electra.] Get thee hence ! away !
she did not dare to mention in the presence of her daughter.
Clytemnestra's character is finely drawn ; her very prayers
we see are wicked, and agreeable to her actions.
l)isturb us not. Most welcome messenger !
[to the Governor,
Go on, I beg thee ; let me hear it all ;
Say how he died ; tell every circumstance.
Gov. For that I came, and I will tell thee all. 620
Know, then, Orestes, at the Pythian games,
Eager for glory, met assembled Greece.
Soon as the herald's far-resounding voice
Proclaimed the course, the graceful youth appeared,
And was by all admired : successful soon 625
He reach'd the gaol, and bore his prize away.
Ne'er did these eyes behold such feats perform'd
By mortal strength ; in every course superior,
He rose victorious : theme of every tongue
Was the brave Argive, great Atrides' son, 630
Who led the Grecian host ; but, O ! in vain
Doth human valor strive when power divine
Pursues vindictive : the succeeding morn
Uprose the sun, and with him all the train
or youthful rivals in the chariot-race ; 635
One from Achaia, one from Sparta came ;
Of Afric's sons advanced a noble pair,
And join'd the throng : with these, Orestes drove
His swift Thessalian steeds ; ^tolia next.
For yellow coursers famed ; and next Magnesia ; 640
And Athens, built by hands divine, sent forth
Her skilful charioteer ; an ^nian next
Drove his white horses through the field ; and last
A brave Boeotian closed the warrior train.
And now, in order ranged, as each by lot 645
Determined stood, forth at the trumpet's sound
They rush'd together, shook their glittering reins.
And lash'd their foaming coursers o'er the plain.
Loud was the din of rattling cars, involved
In dusty clouds ; close on each other pressed 650
'i:l
76
SOPHOCLES.
The rival youths, together stopp'd, and turn'd
Together all. The hapless JEnian first,
His fiery steeds, impatient of subjection,
Entangled on the Libyan chariot hung.
Confusion soon and terror througli the crowd 655
Disastrous spread ; the jarring axles rung ;
Wheel within wheel now crack'd, till Chrysa's field
Was with the scatter'd ruins o'erspread.
The Athenian, cautious, view'd the distant danger,
Drew in the rein, and turn'd his car aside ; 660
Then pass'd them all. Orestes, who, secure
Of conquest, lagg'd behind, with eager pace
Now urged his rapid course, and swift pursued.
Sharp was the contest; now the Athenian first,
And now Orestes o'er his coursers hung ; 665
Now side by side they ran. When to the last
And fatal gaol they came, Atrides* son,
As chance with slacken'd rein he turn'd the car,
Full on the pillar struck, tore from the wheel
Its brittle spokes, and from his seat down dropped 670
Precipitate : entangled in the reins.
His fiery coursers dragg'd him o'er the field,
Whilst shrieking crowds with pity view'd the youth.
Whose gallant deeds deserved a better fate.
Scarce could they stop the rapid car, or loose 675
His mangled corse, so drench'd in blood, so changed.
That scarce a friend could say it was Orestes.
Straight on the pile they burnt his sad remains ;
And, in an urn inclosed, a chosen few.
From Phocis sent, have brought his ashes home, 680
To reap due honours in his native land.
Thus have I told thee all ; a dreadful tale !
But, O ! how far more dreadfilil to behold it,
And be, like me, a witness of the scene !
Cho. Ah me ! the royal race, the ancient house 685
ELECTRA. — ACT 11. 77
Of my loved master is no more !
Cly. Great Jove ?
The event was happy, but 'tis mix'd with wo.
For, O ! 'tis better to reflect, that life
And safety must be purchased by misfortunes.
Gov. Why grieve you, madam ?
Cly. 'Tis a bitter task 690
To bring forth children : though a mother 's wrong'd,
A mother cannot hate the babe she bore.
Gov. Then with ungrateful news in vain I came.
Cly. O no ; most welcome is the man who brings
Such joyful tidings, that a thankless child Gi)5
Is gone, who left a tender mother's arms,
To live a voluntary exile from me ;
Ne'er to these eyes return'd, but absent raged,
And threatened vengeance for his murder'd father.
Day bad no rest for me, nor did the night 700
Bring needful slumbers ; thoughts of instant death
Appall'd me ever ; but my fears are gone ;
He cannot hurt me now ; nor, worse than him,
This vile, domestic plague, who haunts me still,
To suck my vital blood ; but henceforth safe, 705
Spite of her threats, shall Clytemnestra live.
Elec. Now, my Orestes ! I indeed must mourn
Thy cruel fate, embitter'd by reproach.
And from a mother's tongue. This is not well.
Cly. With him it is, and would it were with
thee! 710
Elec. Attend, O Nemesis ! and hear the dead !
Cly. She heard that voice which best deserved her
ear
And her decrees are just,
Elec. Go on proud woman !
Insult us now, while Fortune smiles on thee.
Cly. Dost thou then hope that we shall fall here-
after? 716
78
SOPHOCLES.
Elec. No, we are fallen ourselves, and cannot hurt
thee.
Cly. Thrice worthy is that messenger of joy.
Whose gladsome news shall stop thy clamorous tongue.
Got. My task performed, permit to retire.
Cly. No, stranger I that were an affront to thee,720
And to our friend who sent thee here. Go in,
And leave that noisy wretch to bellow forth
Her sorrows, and bewail her lost Orestes.
\_Exeunt Cly. and Gov.
Elec. MarkM ye, my friends ? did ye observe her
tears ?
Did she lament him P did the mother weep 725
For her lost child ? O no ; she smiled, and left me.
Wretched Electra ! O my dear Orestes !
Thou hast undone me : thou wert all my hope.
I thought thou wouldst have lived to aid my ven-
geance
For our loved father's death : deprived of both, 730
Whither shall I betake me ? left at last
A slave to those whom most on earth I hate, —
The cruel murderers ! Must it then be so ?
Never, Oh, never ! Thus, bereft of ail.
Here will I lay me down, and on this spot 736
End my sad days : if it offend the tyrants.
Lest them destroy me ; it will be kindly done.
Life is a pain ; I would not wish to keep it.
Cho. Where is thy thunder, Jove ! or, where thy
power,
O Phoebus ! If thou dost behold this deed, . 740
And not avenge it?
Elec. . O !
Cho.
Elec. Alas
Cho.
Elec.
Why mourn'st thou thus?
! do not groan thus.
Thou destroy*st me.
electra. — act II.
79
Cho. How have I hurt thee ?
Elec. Why thus vainly try
To give me comfort, when I know he's dead ?
You but insult my woes.
Cho. Yet weep not thus : 745
Think on the golden bracelet that betray'd
Amphiaraus, who now —
Elec. O me !
Cho. In bliss
Immortal reigns among the shades Jbelow.
Elec. Alas !
Cho. No more ; a woman was the cause.
The accursed cause.
Elec. She suffer'd, did she not ? 750
Cho. She did ; she perish'd.
Elec. Yes ; I know it well :
He found a kind avenger of his wrongs;
But I have none, for he is ravish'd from me.
Cho. Thou art indeed unhappy.
Elec. 'Tis too true;
I am most wretched ; it beats hard on me : 755
My sorrows never cease.
Cho. We see thy woes.
Elec. Therefore no more attempt to bring me com-
fort :
There is no hope.
Cho. What say'st thou P
Elec. There is none ;
756 Amphiaraus was a famous soothsayer. During the time
of the Theban war, he was solicited by Adrastus to assist Po-
lynices, his son-in-law. Ampharaus, foreseeing by his art,
that if he went he should be slain, hid himself, but was dis-
covered by his wife Eriphyle, whom Polynices had bribed
with a golden bracelet. Amphiaraus, being thus obliged to
appear at the siege of Thebes, perished there. Alcmseon, his
son, revenged his father's death, and slew his mother Eri-
phyle.
80
SOPHOCLES.
None left for mo, my noble brother slain.
Cho. Death is the lot of human race.
Elec. But, O ! 760
Not death like his : entangled in the reins,
His mangled body dragg'd along the field.
Cho. a strange, unthought-of chance !
Elec. And then to fall
A wretched stranger in a foreign land I
Cho. O horrible !
Elec. • No sister there to close 765
His dying eyes, to grace him with a tomb,
Or pay the sad last tributary tear.
ACT III.
CHRYSOTHEMIS, ELECTRA, CHORUS.
Chry. Forgive me, sister, if my hasty steps
Press unexpected on thee ; but I come
With joyful tidings, to relieve thy toils,
And make thee happy.
Elec. What canst thou have found.
To soften ills that will admit no cure ?
Chry. Orestes is arrived ; as sure as here
I stand before thee, the dear youth is come.
Elec. Canst thou then make a mockery of my woes,
Or dost thou rave ? 77G
Chry. No, by our father's gods,
I do not mean to scofl*; but he is come.
Elec. Alas ! who told thee so ?
ceived
Thy credulous ear ?
Chry. Know, from myself alone
I learn'd the truth and confirmations strong 780
ELECTRA. — ACT III.
81
770
What tongue
de-
Oblige me to believe it.
Elec
What firm proof
Canst thou produce ? What hast thou seen or known
To raise such flattering hopes ?
Chry. o ! by the gods
1 beg thee but to hear me ; then approve
Or blame impartial.
Elec. If to tell thy tale 785
Can give thee pleasure, say it ; I attend.
Chry. Know then, that soon as to our father's
tomb
Eager I came, my wondering eyes beheld
Down from its side a milky fountain flow,
As lately pour'd by some benignant hand. 790
With various flowers the sacred spot adorn'd,
Increased my doubts : on every side I look'd
And listenM long, impatient for the tread
Of human footsteps there ; but all was peace.
Fearless approaching then the hallow'd spot, 795
I saw it spread with fresh-devoted hair.
Instant my soul recall'd its dearest hope,
Nor doubted whence the pious offerings came.
I snatch'd them up, and silent gazed, while joy
Sprang in my heart, and fill'd my eyes with tears. 800
They were, they must be his : ourselves alone
Excepted, who could bring them? 'Twas not I,
And 'tis not given to thee to leave these walls
E'en for the gods : our mother scarce would do
So good an office ; or, e'en grant she might, 805
We must have known it soon. Be confident,
It was Orestes then ; rejoice, Electra !
Sister, rejoice ; the same destructive Power
Doth not for ever rule : behold at last
A milder god, and happier days appear. 810
Elec. Madness and folly ! how I pity thee !
Chry. Have I not brought most joyful tidings to
thee ?
soph. p
(I
82
SOPHOCLES.
Elec. Alas ! thou knowst not where nor what thoa
art.
Chry. Not know it? not believe what I have seenT
Elec. I tell thee, wretched as thou art, he 's dead ;
He and thy hoped-for bliss are gone together. 816
Thou must not think of it.
Chry. a wretch indeed
1 am, if this be so ; but, O ! from whom,
Where didst thou learn the fatal news?
Elec. ^^^^"^ °"^'
Who was a witness of his death.
Chry. Where is he? 820
Amazement chills my soul.
Elec. He is within,
And no unwelcome guest to Clytemnestra.
Chry. Alas! who then could bring those pious gifts?
Elec. Some friend to lost Orestes placed them there.
Chry. I flew with joy to tell thee better news, 825
And little thought to hear so sad a tale.
The griefs 1 came to cure are present still,
And a new weight of woes is come upon us.
Elec But know, my sister I all may yet be well,
If thou wilt hear me.
Chry. Can I raise the dead ? 830
Elec I am not mad that I should ask it of thee.
Chry. What wouldst thou have me do ?
As I shall dictate to thee,
Chry. If aught good
It may produce, I do consent.
Elec Remember,
That if we hope to prosper, we must bear :
Success, in all that 's human, must depend
On patience and on toil.
Chrt. I know it well,
835
ELECTRA. — ACT HI.
83
And stand resolved to bear my part in all.
Elec. Hear then the solemn purport of my soul.
Thou knowst too well how friendless and forlorn 840
We both are left, by death bereaved of all
Who could support us. Whilst Orestes lived,
I cherish 'd flattering thoughts of sweet revenge ;
But he is gone, and thou art now my hope.
Yes, thou must join (fori will tell thee all) 845
With thy Electra to destroy iEgisthus.
To kill the murderer why should we delay ?
Is aught of comfort left ? Thou canst but weep
Thy ravish'd fortunes torn unjustly from thee ;
Thou canst but mourn thy loss of nuptial rites, 850
And each domestic bliss ; for, O my sister !
The tyrant cannot be so weak of soul,
As e*er to sufl*er our detested race
To send new branches forth for his destruction.
Assist me then ; so shalt thou best deserve 855
A father's praises and a brother's love ;
So shalt thou still, as thou wert born, be free,
And gain a partner worthy of thy bed.
Dost thou not hear the applauding voice of Fame,
And every tongue conspire to praise the deed ? 860
Will they not mark us as we pass along,
And cry aloud, — * Behold the noble pair !
The pious sisters, who preserved their race !
Whose daring souls, unawed by danger, sought
The tyrant's life, regardless of their own. 865
What love to these, what reverence is due !
These shall the assembled nation throng to praise,
And every feast with public honors crown,
The fit reward of more than female virtue !'
Thus will they talk, my sister ! whilst we live, 870
And after death our names shall be immortal.
Aid then a brother's, aid a sister's cause,
84
SOPHOCLES.
875
Think on thy father's wrongs, preserve Electra,
Preserve thyself; and, O! remember well,
That, to the noble mind, a life dishonor d
Is infamy and shame.
Q^^Q Be prudence now
The guide of both.
Chj^y Her mind was sure disturb d,
My friends ! or she would ne'er have talk'd so wildly.
Tell me, I beg thee, tell me, my Electra !
How couldst thou think so rash an enterprise 8W
Could e'er succeed, or how request my aid ?
Hast thou consider'd what thou art ? a woman,
Weak and defenceless, to thy foes unequal.
Fortune, tbou seest, each hour flows in upon them
Nor deigns to look on us. What hand shall deal 880
The fatal blow, and pass unpunish'd for it?
Take heed, my sister ! lest thy counsel heard,
A heavier fate than what we now lament
Fall on us both : what will our boasted fame
Avail us then ? It is not death alone
We have to fear ; to die is not the worst
Of human ills : it is to wish for death.
And be refused the boon. Consider well.
Ere we destroy ourselves and all our race.
Be patient, dear Electra ! for thy words.
As they had ne'er been utter'd, here they rest.
Learn to be wise at last, and when thou knowst
Resistance vain, submit to powers superior.
Cho. Submit, convinced that prudence is the hrst
Of human blessings.
£lec. 'Tis as I expected ! »""
I knew full well thou wouldst reject my coun-
sel:
But I can act alone ; nor shall this arm
Shrink at the blow, or leave its work unfinish'd.
890
895
ELECTRA. — ACT 111.
85
Chry, Would thou hadst shown this so muchvaunted
prowess
When our loved father died !
Elec. I was the same 905
By nature then, but of a weaker mind.
Chry. Be sure thy courage fail thee not hereafter.
Elec. Thy aid will ne'er increase it.
Chry. 'Twill be wanted :
For those who act thus rashly, must expect
The fate they merit.
Elec. I admire thy prudence, 910 .
But I detest thy cowardice.
Chry. I hear thee
With patience ; for the time must one day come
When thou shalt praise me.
Elec. Never.
Chry. Be that left
For time to judge ; enough remains.
Elec. Away ;
There 's no dependence on thee.
Chry. B»it there is, 915
Hadst thou a mind disposed for its acceptance.
Elec. Go, tell thy mother all.
Chry. I am not yet
So much thy enemy.
Elec. ' And yet would lead me
To infamy.
Chry. To safety and to wisdom.
Elec. Must I then judge as thy superior reason 920
May dictate to me?
Chry. When thy better mind
Shall come, I 'U not refuse to follow thee.
Elec. Pity, who talks so well, should act so poorly !
Chry. That censure falls on thee.
Elec. What I have said
86
SOPHOCLES.
Is truth.
Chry. Truth, sister! may be dangerous. 925
£lec. Rather than thus submit I will not live.
Chry. Hereafter thou wilt praise me.
Elec. I shall act
As seems most fit, nor wait for thy direction.
Chry. Art thou resolved then ? Wilt thou not re-
pent,
And take my counsel ?
Ef.Ec. Counsel such as thine 930
Is of all ills the worst.
Chry. Because, Electra !
Thou dost not seem to understand it,
Elec. Know, then,
That long ere this, I had determined all.
Chry. Then fare thee well ; thou canst not bear my
words.
Nor I thy actions.
Elec. Go thy ways ; henceforth 936
I will not commune with thee ; nor thy prayers.
No, nor thy tears, should ever bend me to it :
Such idle commerce were the height of folly.
Chry. If thou dost think this wisdom, think so still ;
But when destruction comes, thou wilt approve 940
My better counsel, and be wise too late. [Exeunt.
chorus,
strophe I.
Man's ungrateful, wretched race
Shall the birds of heaven disgrace.
Whose ever-watchful, ever-pious young,
Protect the feeble parent whence they sprung ! 945
But if the blast of angry Jove
Hath power to strike, or Justice reigns above,
Not long unpunished shall such crimes remain i
electra. — act IV.
87
955
960
When thou, O Fame ! the messenger of wo,
Shalt bear these tidings of the realms below,—
Tidings, to Grecians chiefs, of sorrow and of pain. 951
antistrophe I.
Bid the sad Atridae mourn.
Their house by cruel faction torn ;
Tell them, no longer by affection joinM,
The tender sisters bear a friendly mind.
The poor Electra, now alone,
Making her fruitless, solitary moan.
Like Philomela, weeps her father's fate ;
Fearless of death, and every human ill,
Resolved her steady vengeance to fulfil :
Was ever child so good, or piety so great?
strophe II.
Still are the virtuous and the good
By adverse fortune unsubdued,
Nor e'er will stoop to infamy and shame :
Thus Electra dauntless rose,
The war to wage with virtue's foes.
To gain the meed of never-ending fame.
antistrophe II.
Far, far above thy enemies.
In power and splendor mayst thou rise,
And future bliss compensate present wo !
For thou hast shown thy pious love.
By all that's dear to Heaven above,
Or sacred held by mortals here below.
965
970
[Exeunt.
ACT IV.
ORESTES, pylades, with attendantSy electra, chorus.
Ores. Say, virgins ! if, by right instruction led.
This way I tend to
Cho. Whither wouldst thou go ? 975
88
SOPHOCLES.
ELECTRA.— ACT IV.
89
Ores. The palace of JEgisthus.
Cho. Stranger ! well
Wert thou directed ; thou art there already.
Ores. WhO) then, amongst your train shall kindly speak
A friend's approach, who comes with joyful news
Of highest import?
Cho. Be that office hers, [poiiiiitiff to Electra, 980
Whom, bound by nature's ties, it best befits.
Ores. Go, then, and say, from Phocis are arrived
Who beg admittance to the king.
Elec. Alas !
And coraest thou, then, to prove the dreadful tale
Already told ?
Ores. What you have heard, I know not ; 985
But of Orestes came I here to speak,
By Strophius' command.
Elec. What is it ? say.
O, how I dread thy message !
Ores, [showing the wni.] Here behold
His poor remains
Elec. O lost, undone Eleclra !
'Tis then too plain, and misery is complete. 990
Ores. If for Orestes thus thy sorrows flow,
Know that within this urn his ashes lie.
Elec. Do they indeed ? Then let me, by the gods
I do intreat thee, let me snatch them from thee *,
Let me embrace them, let me weep my fate, 995
And mourn our hapless race.
Ores. Give her the urn,
Whoe'er she be ; for not with hostile mind
She craves the boon : perhaps some friend ; perhaps
By blood united.
Elec. [taking the urn.~\ O, ye dear remains
Of my Orestes, the most loved of men ! 1000
How do I see thee now ! how much unlike
What my fond hopes presaged, when last we parted !
\
I sent thee forth with all the bloom of youth
Fresh on thy cheek ; and now, O dismal change!
I bear thee in these hands an empty shade. 1005
Would I had died ere I had sent thee hence.
Ere I had saved thee from the tyrant's hand !
Would thou hadst died thyself that dreadful day,
And join'd thy murder'd father in the tomb,
Rather than thus, a wretched exile, fallen, 1010
Far from thy sister, in a foreign land !
I was not there with pious hands to wash
Thy breathless corpse, or from the greedy flame
To gather up thy ashes. What have ail
My pleasing toils, my fruitless cares avail'd, 1015
E'en from thy infant years ; that has a mother,
I watch'd thee still, and as a mother loved ?
I would not trust thee to a servant's hand.
But was myself the guardian of thy youth.
Thy dear companion : all is gone with ihee. 1020
Alas ! thy death, like the devouring storm,
Halh borne down all : my father is no more,
And thou art gone, and I am going too.
Our foes rejoice ; our mother, mad with joy,
Smiles at our miseries ; that unnatural mother, 1025
She whom thou oft hast promised to destroy ;
But cruel fate hath blasted all my hopes,
And for my dear Orestes left me naught
But this poor shadow. O ! the accursed place,
Where I had sent thee ! O my hapless brother I 1030
Thou hast destroy'd Electra : take me, then,
O, take me to thee ! let this urn inclose
My ashes too, and dust to dust be join'd.
That we may dwell together once again.
In life united by one hapless fate, 1035
I would not wish in death to be divided ;
The dead are free from sorrows.
Cho. Fair Electra !
90
SOPHOCLES.
Do not indulge thy griefs ; but, O ! remember,
Sprung from a mortal like thyself, Orestes
Was mortal too ; that we are mortal all. 1040
Ores, [aside.] What shall I say ? I can refrain no
longer.
Elec. Why this emotion ^
Ores, [looking at Electra.'] Can it be Electra ?
That lovely form !
Elec. It is, indeed, that wretch.
Ores. O dreadful !
Elec. Stranger ! dost thou weep for me ?
Ores. By impious hands to perish thus !
Elec. For me 1045
Doubtless thou weepst, for I am changed indeed.
Ores. Of nuptial rites, and each domestic joy
To live deprived !
Elec. Why dost thou gaze upon me ?
Ores. Alas ! I did not know I was so wretched.
Elec. Why, what hath made thee so ?
Ores. I see thy woes. 1050
Elec. Not half of them.
Ores. Can there be worse than these ?
Elec. To live with murderers ?
Ores. What murderers ? whom P
Elec. The murderers of my father : bound to serve
them.
Ores. Who binds thee ?
Elec. One who calls herself a mother ;—
A name she little merits.
Ores. But say, how? 1055
Doth she withhold the means of life, or act
With brutal violence to thee ?
Elec. Both, alas !
Are my hard lot ; she tries a thousand means
To make me wretched.
Ores. And will none assist,
electra. — ACT IV.
91
Will none defend thee ?
Elec. None. My only hope 1060
Lies burled there.
Ores. O, how I pity thee !
Elec. 'Tis kindly done; for none will pity me.
None but thyself. Art thou indeed a stranger.
Or does some nearer tie unite our sorrows ?
Ores. I could unfold a tale ; — but, say, these virgins !
May I depend on them ?
Elec. They are our friends, 1066
And faithful all.
Ores. Then lay the urn aside.
And I will tell thee.
Elec. Do not take it from me ;
Do not, dear stranger!
Ores. But I must indeed.
Elec. Do not, I beg thee.
Ores. Come, you '11 not repent it.
Elec. O my poor brother ! if thy dear remains 1071
Are wrested from me, I am most unhappy.
Ores. No more ; thou must not grieve for him.
Elec. Not grieve
For my Orestes ?
Ores. No ; you should not weep.
Elec. Am I unworthy of him then ?
Ores. O, no! 1075
But do not grieve.
Elec. Not when I bear the ashes
Of my dear brother?
' Ores. But they are not there,
Unless by fiction, and a well-wrought tale
That hath deceived thee.
Elec. Where then is his tomb ?
Ores. The living need none.
Elec. Ha ! what sayst thou ?
Ores. Truth. 1080
92
SOPHOCLES.
Elec. Does he then live ?
Ores. If I have life, he lives:
Elec. And art thou he ?
Ores. Look here, and be convinced ;
This mark. His from our father.
Elec. O bless'd hour !
Ores. Blessed indeed !
Elec. Art thou then here ?
Ores. I am.
Elec. Do I embrace thee ?
Ores. Mayst thou do it long! 1085
Elec. O my companions ! O my dearest friends !
Do ye not see Orestes, once by art
And cruel fiction torn from life and me,
But now by better art to life restored ?
Cho. Daughter ! we do ; and see, 'midst all our woes
From every eye fast flow the tears of Joy. 1091
Elec, O, ye are come, my friends in happiest hour :
E'en to behold, to find again the man
Whom your souls wish'd for, ye are come.
Cho. We are :
But, O ! in silence hide thy joys, Electra ! 1095
Elec. Wherefore in silence ?
Cho. Lest our foes within
Should hear thee.
Elec Never, by the virgin power
Of chaste Diana, will I hide my joys.
Or meanly stoop to fear an idle throng
Of helpless women.
Ores. Women have their power, 1100
And that thou knowst,
Elec Alas ! and so I do ;
For, O ! thou hast calTd back the sad remembrance
Of that misfortune which admits no cure,
And ne'er can be forgot.
Ores. A fitter time
electra. — ACT IV.
93
May come, when we must think of that.
Elec All times, 1105
All hours, are fit to talk of justice in.
And best the present, now when I am free.
Ores. Thou art so ; be so still.
Elec. What's to be done ?
Ores. Talk not, when prudence should restrain thy
tongue.
Elec. Who shall restrain it ? Who shall bind Electra
To fearful silence, when Orestes comes ?
When thus I see thee here, beyond my thoughts.
Beyond my hopes.
Ores. The gods have sent me to thee ;
They bade me come.
Elec Indeed ! more grateful still
Is thy return ; if by the gods' command 1 115
Thou earnest, the gods will sure protect thee here.
Okes. I would not damp thy joys, and yet I fear
Lest they should carry thee too far.
Elec O, no !
But after so long absence, thus return'd
To thy aftlicted sister ; sure thou wouldst not 1120
Ores. Do what?
Elec Thou wouldst not grudge me the
dear pleasure
Of looking on thee ?
Ores. No ; nor suffer any
To rob thee of it.
Elec Shall I then ?
Ores. No doubt.
Elec I hear that voice, my friends ! I neverthought
To hear again : ye know, when I received 1 125
The dreadful news, I kept my grief within.
Silent and sad ; but now I have thee here,
Now I behold thee, now I fix my eyes
94
SOPHOCLES,
On that dear form, which never was forgotten.
Ores. Spend not thy time in fruitless words, nor
tell me 1130
How Clyteninestra lives, nor how ^gisthus
Hath lavished all our wealth : the present hour
Demands our strictest attention. Tell me, how,
Whether by fraud or open force, our foes
May best be vanquished : let no cheerful smile 1135
Betray thee to thy mother ; seem to grieve
As thou wert wont : when we have done the deed,
Joy shall appear, and we will smile in safety.
Elec Thy will is mine. Not to myself I owe
My present bliss ; I have it all from thee, 1140
From thee, my brother ! nor should aught persuade me
To give Orestes e'en a moment's pain :
That were ungrateful to the indulgent Power,
Who thus hath smiled propitious. Know, ^gisthus
Has left the palace ; Clytemnestra 's there ; 1145
And for thy needless fears that I should smilcj
Or wear a cheerful face, I never shall.
Hatred so strong is rooted in my soul.
The sight of them will make me sad enough.
The tears of joy perhaps may flow for thee, 1 150
And add to the deceit; for flow they must,
W^hen I behold thee in one happy hour
Thus snatch'd from life, and thus to life restored.
I could not hope it : O, 'tis passing strange !
If from the tomb our father should arise, 11 55
And say, he lived, I think I should believe him ;
And, O ! when thou art come so far, 'tis fit
I yield to thee in all : do thou direct
My every step ; but know, had I been left
Alone, e'en I would not have fail'd in all, 1160
But conquer'd bravely, or as bravely fell.
Ores. No more. 1 hear the footsteps as of one
ELECTRA.— ACT IV.
95
Coming this way.
Elec. Strangers ! go in, and bear
That which with joy they cannot but receive,
But which with joy they cannot long possess.
1165
1170
1175
GOVERNOR OF ORESTES, ELECTRA, ORESTES, CHORUS.
Gov. Madness and folly thus to linger here !;
Have ye no thought P is life not worth your care?
Do ye not know the danger that surround you ?
Had I not watch'd myself before the palace,
Ere ye had enter'd, all your secret plan
Had been discover'd to our foes within :
Wherefore no more of this tumultuous joy.
And lengthen'd converse ; 'tis not fitting now.
Go in ; away ; delays are dangerous
At such an hour : our fate depends upon it.
Ores. May I with safety ? is all well within ?
Gov. None can suspect you.
Ores. Spake you of my death.
As we determined ?
Gov. Living as thou art,
They do account thee one among the dead.
Ores. And are they glad ? what say they ?
Gov. By and by 1180
We '11 talk of that ; let it suffice, that all
Is right within; and that which most they think
so.
May prove most fatal to them.
Elec. [pointing to the Governor.^ Who is this ?
Ores. Do you not know ?
Elec. I cannot recollect him.
Ores. Not know the man to whom you trusted me ?
Under whose care
Elec. When ? how ?
Ores. To Phocis sent, 1186
96
SOPHOCLES.
I 'scaped the tyrant.
Elec. Can it then be he,
Among the faithless only faithful found,
When our dear father fell P
Ores. It is the same.
Elec. [to Gov.] Dearest of men ! great guardian of
our race ! 1190
Art thou then here ? thou, who hast saved us both
From countless woes? Swift were thy feet to bring
Glad tidings to me, and thy hand stretch'd forth
Its welcome succor : but, O ! why deceive me ?
Why wouldst thou kill me with thy dreadful tale,
E'en when thou hadst such happiness in store? 1196
Hail, father ! hail ; for I must call thee so :
Know, thou hast been to me, in one short day.
Both the most hated and most loved of men.
Gov. No more of that: we shall have time enough
To talk of it hereafter. Let us go ; 1201
This is the hour ; the queen is now alone,
And not a man within : if ye delay.
Expect to meet more formidable foes.
In wisdom and in numbers far superior. 1205
Ores. We will not talk, my Pylades ! but act.
Let us go in ; but to the gods, who guard
This place, be first due adoration paid.
Elec. Hear, then, Apollo ! great Lycaean ! hear
Their humble prayer. O ! hear Electra too, 1210
Who with unsparing hand her choicest gifts
Hath never fail'd to lay before thy altars.
Accept the little all which now remains
For me to give ; accept my humblest prayers,
My vows, my adorations ; smile propitious 1215
Oa a!) our counsels. O ! assist us now,
And show mankind what punishment remains
For guilty mortals from oflended Heaven ! [Exeunt,
electra. — ACT V.
97
CHORUS.
STROPHE I.
Behold, he comes ! the slaughter-breathing god,
Mars, ever thirsting for the murderer's blood : 1220
And see, the dogs of war are close behind.
Naught can escape their all-devouring rage :
This did my conscious heart long since presage.
And the fair dream that struck my raptured mind.
ANTISTROPHE.
The avenger steals along, with silent feet, 1225
And sharpen'd sword, to his paternal seat.
His injured father's wrongs to vindicate;
Conoeal'd from all by Maia's fraudful son.
Who safe conducts him till the deed be done, "
Nor longer will delay the needful work of fate. 1230
[Exeunt.
ACT V.
ELECTRA, CHORUS.
Elec. O my dear friends ! they are about it now ;
The deed is doing : but be still.
Cho. What deed ?
How? where?
Elix. She doth prepare the funeral banquet ;
1228 Mercury, the son of Jupiter and Maia, was the god of
fraud and treachery. The propriety of Mercury's peculiar
assistance in this place may likewise be accounted for from
his relation to Myrtillus, who was slain by Pelops.
1233 The Greek funeral banquet, which was usually spread
on the tomb of the deceased by the nearest relation. This
banquet Electra imagines that Clytemnestra was already pre-
paring for Orestes, whom she supposed dead : * but they,'
says she, 'are not far from her;' that is, they who are pre-
paring one for her. The sentence, we see, is purposely unfi-
nished. » I i- J
SOPH, ii
98 SOPHOCLES.
But Ihey are not far from her.
Cno. Why then leave them ?
Elec. To watch iEgisthus, lest he steal upon us.
And blast our purpose.
Cly. [behind the scenes,] O ! I am betray'd. 1236
My palace full of murderers ! not a friend
Left to protect me !
Elec. Some one cries within :
Did you not hear ?
Cho. It is too horrible
For mortal ear : I tremble at the sound. 1240
Cly. [within,] ^gisthus, O ! where art thou ?
Elec. Hark ! again
The voice, and louder.
Cly. [within.] O, my child, my child !
Pity thy mother ; pity her who bore thee.
Elec. Be thine the pity which thou show'dst to him,
And to his father.
Cho. O, unhappy kingdom ! 1245
O, wretched race ! thy misery is full :
This day will finish all.
Cly. [within.] O, I am wounded !
Elec. Another stroke ! Another, if thou canst.
Cly. [within.] Ah me ! again ?
Elec. O, that ^Egisthus too
GroanM with thee now !
Cho. Then vengeance is complete : 1 250
The dead arise, and shed their murderous blood
In copious streams.
ORESTES, PYLADES, GOVERNOR OF ORESTES, ELtCTRA,
CHORUS.
Elec. Behold them here ; their hands
Dropping with gore ; — a pious sacrifice
To the great god of war. How is*t, Orestes ?
ELECTRA.— ACJT V.
99
Ores. 'Tis very well, all's well : if there be truth
In great Apollo's oracles, she's dead. 1256
Thou need'st not fear a cruel mother now.
Cho. No more ; -^gisthus comes.
Elec Instant go in.
Do you not see him ? joyful he returns.
Cho. Retire ; thus far is right ; go on, and prosper. *
Ores. Fear not we '11 do it.
Cho. But immediately. 1261
Ores. I 'm gone. [Exeunt Orestes, Pi/lades, and Gov,
Elec. For what remains here to be done.
Be it my care ; I '11 whisper in his ear
A few soft flattering words, that he may rush
Unknowing, down precipitate, on ruin. 1265
iEGISTHUS, ELECTRA, CHORUS.
iEcis. Which of you knows aught of these Phocian
guests,
Who come to tell us of Orestes' death ?
You first I ask, Electra ! once so proud
And fierce of soul. It doth concern you most ;
And therefore you, I think, can best inform me. 1270
Elec Yes, I can tell thee : is it possible
I should not know it; — what were not to know
A circumstance of dearest import to me?
tEgis. Where are they, then ?
Elec. Within.
tEgis. And spake they truth ?
Elec. They did ; a truth, not proved by words
alone, 1275
But facts undoubted.
^Gis. Shall we see him, then?
Elec. Ay, and a dreadful sight it is to see.
iEcis. Thou art not wont to give me so much joy ;
Now I am glad indeed.
^lec. Glad mayst thou be,
100
SOPHOCLES.
ELECTRA. — ACT V.
101
If aught there is in that can give thee joy. 1280
J3gis. Silence within ; and let my palace gates
Be open*d all, that Argos and Mycenae
May send her millions forth to view the sight ;
And if there are who nourish idle hopes
That still Orestes lives, behold him here, 1285
'And learn submission, nor inflame the crowd]
Against their lawful sovereign, lest they feel
An angry'monarch's heaviest vengeance on them.
Elec. Already I have learn'd the task, and yield
To power superior.
Scene opens and discovers the body of Clytemnestra extended
on a bier, and covered with a veil. .
ORESTES, PYLADES, GOVERNOR OF ORESTES, /EGISTHUS,
ELECTRA, CHORUS, and a crowd of spectators from
the city,
^Gis. Wljat a sight is here ! 1290
O Deity supreme ! this could not be
But by thy will ; and whether Nemesis
Shall still o'ertake me for my crime, I know not.
Take oflf the veil, that I may view him well ;
He was by blood allied, and therefore claims 1295
Our decent sorrows.
Ores. Take it off thyself;
'Tis not my office ; thee it best befits
To see and to lament.
tEgis. And so it doe?,
And I will do it : send Clytemnestra hither.
[taking off the veil-
Ores. She is before thee.
.^Gis. Ha! what do I see ? 1300
Ores. Why, what's the matter ? what affrights thee
>
t
(
so
Do you not see him ?
uEgis.
In what dreadful snare
Am I then fallen P
Ores. Dost thou not now behold
That thou art talking with the dead ?
jEgis. Alas !
Too well I see it, and thou art — Orestes. 1305
Ores. So great a prophet thou, and guess so ill ?
iEGis. I know that I am lost, undone for ever ;
But let me speak to thee.
Elec Do not, Orestes !,'
No, not a word. What can a moment's space
Profit a wretch like him, to death devoted ? 1310
Quick let him die, and cast his carcass forth
To dogs and vultures ; they will best perform
Fit obsequies for him ; by this alone
We can be free aad happy.
Ores. Get thee in ;
This is no time for talk : thy life, thy life. 1315
tEgis. But why go in? If what thou mean'st to do
Be just, what need of darkness to conceal it ?
Why not destroy me here P
Ores. Is it not thine
Now to command : hence to the fatal place
Where our dear father fell, and perish there. 1320
iEGis. This palace then is doom'd to be the witness
Of all the present, all the future woes
Of Pelops' hapless race.
Ores. Of thine, at least,
It shall be witness : that's my prophecy.
And a most true one.
iEcis. 'Tis not from thy father. 1325
Ores. Thou talk'st, and time is lost. Away !
iEois. I follow.
Ores. Thou shalt go first.
iEois. Think'st thou I mean to fly ?
Ores. No ; but I M make thy end most bitter to
thee
102
SOPHOCLES.
In every circiimstance, nor let thee choose
The softest means. Were all like thee to perish 1330
Who violate the laws, 'twould lessen much
The guilt of mortals, and reform mankind. [Exeunt,
CHORUS.
O race of Atreus ! after all thy woes.
How art thou thus, by one adventurous deed,
To freedom and to happiness restored ! 1336
PHILOCTETES-
DRAMATIS PERSONS.
Ulysses, king of Ithaca.
Neoptolemcs, son of Achilles.
Philoctetes, son of Paean, and companion of Hercules.
A Spy.
Hercules.
Chorus, composed of the companions of Ulysses and Neo-
ptolemus.
PHILOCTETES.
ARGUMENT.
Philoctetes, the son of Psean, had been honored with the
friendship of Hercules, who at his death bequeathed to htm
his bow, together with the poisoned arrows dipped in the
blood of the hydra. Philoctetes, after this, being in search
of an altar dedicated to his deceased friend in the island
of Chrysa, was there bit by a serpent : the wound festered,
and an incurable ulcer ensued: notwithstanding which, he
proceeded to the siege of Troy, where the wound growing
desperate, his continual cries and groans so interrupted the
motions of the war and disheartened the soldiers, that the
Grecian chiefs thought it advisable to remove him from the
army; and Ulysses was accordingly commissioned to carry
him to Lemnos, an uninhabited island in the -^gean sea,
and there to leave him. In this miserable situation he re-
mained for ten years ; when the oracle informed the Greeks
» that Troy could never be conquered without the arrows of
Hercules, then in the possession of Philoctetes. Ulysses
and Neoptolemus were despatched with directions to
bring him to the siege. The son of Achilles, at the sug-
gestions of his crafty companion, introduced himself to the
wounded hero with an artful enumeration of affronts, which
he pretended to have received from the Greeks ; and hav-
ing thus insinuated himself into his confidence, he con-
trived to get possession of the bow and fatal arrows ; and
the artifice was nearly brought to a successful termination,
when, struck with remorse, Neoptolemus revealed his
whole design to Philocteted ; and, at his earnest intreaties,
restored him his weapons, in spite of the remonstrances of
Ulysses. The services thus rendered by Neoptolemus
were insufficient, however, to persuade Philoctetes to ac-
company him to Troy ; when Hercules descended from the
106
SOPHOCI.ES.
PHILOCTETES. — ACT 1.
107
skies, and presently overcame all his scruples by the pro-
mise of a complete cure of his wounds by the skill of Escu-
lapius.
ACT I.
Scene Lemnos, near a grottOt in a rock by the sea-aide,
ULYSSES, NEOPTOLEMUS, ATTENDANT.
Ulys. At length, my noble friend ! thou bravest son
Of a brave father, father of us all,
The great Achilles ! we have reached the shore
Of sea-girt Lemnos, desert and forlorn.
Where never tread of human step is seen, 6
Or voice of mortal heard, save his alone,
Poor Philoctetes, Paean's wretched son,
Whom here I left, (for such were my commands
From Grecians chiefs,) when, by his fatal wound
Oppressed, his groans and execrations dreadful 10
Alarm'd our hosts, our sacred rites profaned,
And interrupted holy sacrifice.
But why should I repeat the tale P The time
Admits not of delay ; we must not linger,
Lest he discover our arrival here, 15
And ail our purposed fraud to draw him hence
Be inefifectual : lend me then thy aid.
Surveying round thee, canst thou see a rock
With double entrance ; to the sun's warm rays
In winter open, and in summer's heat 20
Giving free passage to the welcome breeze ?
A little to the left there is a fountain
Of living water, where, if yet he breathes.
He slakes his thirst : if aught thou seest of this.
Inform me ; so shall each to each impart 25
Counsel most fit, and serve our common cause.
Neo. \leaving Vlysset a little behind Aim.J If I mis-
take not, I behold a cave,
Ev'n such as thou describest.
Ulys . ^^^^ ^**°" ^ ^^**^ ^^^
Neo.' Yonder it is ; but no path leading thither,
Or trace of human footstep.
Ulys. ^" ^^ *^®"
'Tis chance but he hath laid him down to rest ;
Look, if he hath not. -, ^t * «♦ „.^
Neo. [advancing towards the cave.} Not a creature
there. , , , .. ^ ,
Ulys. Norfood,normarkof household preparation .
Neo. a rustic bed of scattered leaves.
-, What more r
Neo!* A wooden bowl, the work of some rude hand,
With a few sticks for fuel. _. . „ ^
Ulys. This is all 36
His little treasure here.
Neo. Unhappy man !
Some linen for his wounds.
Ulys. This must be, then,
His place of habitation : far from hence
He cannot roam ; distemper'd as he is,
It were impossible. He is but gone
A little way, for needful food, or herb !
Of power, to suage and mitigate his pain ;
Wherefore despatch this servant to some place
Of observation, whence he may espy
His every motion, lest he rush upon us.
There 's not a Grecian, whom his soul so much
Could wish to crush beneath him, as Ulysses.
[Makes a signal to the attendant, who retires.^
Neo. He 's gone to guard each avenue ; and now.
If thou hast aught of moment to impart 50
Touching our purpose, say it ; I attend.
40
45
t
108
SOPHOCLES.
Ulys. Son of Achilles ! mark me well ; remember,
What we are doing not on strength alone,
Or conrage, but on conduct will depend ;
Therefore if aught uncommon be proposed, 65
Strange to thy ears, or adverse to thy nature,
Reflect that 'tis thy duty to comply.
And act conjunctive with me.
Neo. Well! what is it?
Ulys. We must deceive this Philoctetes; that
Will be thy task. When he shall ask thee who 60
And what thou art, Achilles' son, reply;
Thus far within the verge of truth, no more.
Add, that resentment fired thee to forsake
The Grecian fleet, and seek thy native soil.
Unkindly used by those, who long with vows 65
Had sought thy aid to humble haughty Troy ;
And when thou earnest, ungrateful as they were,
The arms of great Achilles, thy just right,
Gave to Ulysses : here thy bitter taunts
And sharp invectives liberally bestow 70
On me ; say what thou wilt, I shall forgive.
And Greece will not forgive thee if thou dost not ;
For against Troy thy efforts are all in vain
Without his arrows : safely thou mayst hold
Friendship and converse with him, but I cannot. 75
Thou wert not with us when the war began.
Nor bound by solemn oath to join our host,
As I was ; me he knows, and if he find
That I am with thee, we are both undone.
They must be ours, then, these all-conquering arms ;
Remember that. I know, thy noble nature 81
Abhors the thought of treachery or fraud ;
I But what a glorious prize is victory !
Therefore be bold ; we will be just hereafter.
Give to deceit and me a little portion 85
PHILOCTETES. — ACT I.
109
Of one short day, and for thy future life
Be call'd the holiest, worthiest, best of men.
Neo. What but to hear alarms my conscious soul.
Son of Laertes ! I shall never practise :
I was not born to flatter or betray ; * 90
Nor I, nor he (the voice of fame reports)
Who gave me birth. What open arms can do,
Behold me prompt to act ; but ne'er to fraud
Will I descend. Sure we can more than match
In strength a foe thus lame and impotent: 95
I came to be a helpmate to thee, not
A base betrayer; and, O king ! believe me ;
Rather, much rather, would I fall by virtue,
Than rise by guilt to certain victory.
Ulys. O noble youth, and worthy of thy sire! 100
When I like thee was young, like thee of strength
And courage boastful, little did I deem
Of human policy ; but long experience
Haih taught me, son ! 'tis not the powerful arm,
But soft, enchanting tongue, that governs all. 105
Neo. And ihou wouidst have me tell an odious
falsehood ?
Ulys. He must be gain'd by fraud.
Neo. By fraud? and why
Not by persuasion ?
Ulys. He'll not listen to it.
And force were vainer still.
Neo. What mighty power
Hath he to boast ?
Ulys. His arrows, wing'd with death 110
Inevitable.
Neo. Then it were not safe
Ev'n to approach him.
Ulys. No ; unless by fraud
He be secured.
Neo. And think'st thou 'tis not base
no
SOPHOCLES.
PHILOCTETES.— ACT I.
i1
116
To tell a lie tben P
Ulys. Not if on that he
Depends our safety.
Neo. Who shall dare to tell it
Without a blush ?
Ulys. We need not blush at aught
That may promote our interest and success.
Neo. But where 's the interest that should bias mc ?
Come he or not to Troy, imports it aught
To Neoptolemus ?
Ulys. Troy cannot fall l'-*^
Without his arrows.
Neo. Saidst thou not, that I
Was destined to destroy her ?
ULYg^ Without him
Naught canst thou do, and they without thee nothing.
Neo. Then 1 must have them.
Ulys. When thou hast, remember
A double prize awaits thee.
j^Eo. What Ulysses? 125
Ulys. The glorious names of valiant and of wise.
Neo. Away ; I'll do it. Thoughts of guilt or shame
No more appal me.
Ulys. Wilt thou do it, then ?
Wilt thou remember what I told thee of?
Neo. Depend on 't ; I have promised ; that 's suffi-
cient. ^ *^
Ulys. Here, then, remain thou ; I must not be seen :
If thou stay long, I '11 send a faithful spy,
Who, in a sailor's habit well disguised.
May pass unknown : of him, from time to time,
What best may suit our purpose thou shall know. 135
rU to the ship ; farewell ; and may the god
Who brought us here, the fraudful Mercury,
And great Minerva, guardian of our country,
And ever kind to me, protect us still ! [Exit Ulysses,
111
140
145
150
155
Cho. Master! instruct us, strangers as we are.
What we may utter, what we must conceal.
Doubtless the man we seek will entertain
Suspicion of us ; how are we to act P
To those, alone, belong the art to rule,
Who bear the sceptre from the hand of Jove :
To thee, of right, devolves the power supreme,
From thy great ancestors deliver'd down :
Speak, then, our royal lord, and we obey.
Neo. If you would penetrate yon deep recess,
To see the cave where Philoctetes lies.
Go forward ; but remember to return
When the poor wanderer comes this way, prepared
To aid our purpose here, if need require.
Cho. O king ! we ever meant to fix our eyes
On thee, and wait attentive to thy will.
But, tell us, in what part is he conceal d ?
^Tis fit we know the place, lest unobserved
He rush upon us. Which way doth it lie ?
Seest thou his footsteps leading from the cave,
Or hither bent? ^^ , _ . . ,,
Neo. [advancing towards the cave,] Behold the dou We
door .
Of bis-poor dwelling, and the flinty bed.
Cho. And whither is its wretched master gone ?
Neo Doubtless in search of food, and not far off.
For such his manner is ; accustomed here
(So Fame reports) to pierce with winged arrows 165
His savage prey for daily sustenance ;
His wound still painful, and no hope of cure.
Cho. Alas I I pity him ; without a fnend,
140 The Chorus is composed of the soldiers and Mowers
of Ulysses and Neoptolemus; ^« .^P^f^^ P^^^^'teS^'?^^^
^fh^. M?o= tTeVraid^f -a -^-
ing the designs of their commanders.
112
SOPHOCLES.
PHILOCTETES. — ACT II.
113
■f
\
Without a fellow-suflferer, left alone,
Deprived of all the mutaal joys that flow 170
From sweet society ; distemper'd too.
How can he bear it ? O unhappy race
Of mortal man ! doom'd to an endless round
Of sorrows, and immeasurable wo !
Second to none in fair nobility 175
Was Philoctetes, of illustrious race :
Yet here be lies, from every human aid
Far off removed, in dreadful solitude.
And mingles with the wild and savage herd ;
With them in famine and in misery 180
Consumes his days, and weeps their common fate,
Unheeded, save when babbling Echo mourns.
In bitterest notes, responsive to his wo.
Neo. And yet I wonder not ; for if aright
I judge, from angry heaven the sentence came, 185
And Chrysa was the cruel source of all :
Nor doth this sad disease inflict him still
Incurable, without assenting gods ;
For so they have decreed, lest Troy should fall
Beneath his arrows, ere the appointed time 190
Of its destruction come.
Cho. No more, my son !
Neo. What say'st thou ?
Cho, Sure I heard a dismal groan
Of some afllicted wretch !
Neo. Which way ?
Cho. Ev'n now
I hear it, and the sound as of some step
Slow moving this way : he is not far from us ;
His plaints are louder now. Prepare, my son !
Neo. For what?
Cho. New troubles ; for, behold, he comes ;
Not like the shepherd, with his rural pipe
And cheerful song, but groaning heavily.
Either his wounded foot against some thorn 200
Hath struck, and pains him sorely ; or, perchance,
He hath espied from far some ship attempting
To enter this inhospitable port,
And hence his cries to save it from destruction.
[Exeunt-
ACT II.
philoctetes, neoptolemus, chorus.
Phi. Say, welcome strangers ! what disastrous fate
Led you to this inhospitable shore, 206
Nor haven safe, nor habitation fit,
Affording ever? Of what clime, what race ?
Who are ye ? Speak ; if I may trust that garb,
Familiar once to me, ye are of Greece, 210
My much -loved country : let me hear the sound
Of your long-wished-for voices : do not look
With horror on me; but in kind compassion
Pity a wretch deserted and forlorn
In this sad place. O ! if ye come as friends, 215
Speak, then, and answer ; hold some converse with me ;
For this, at least, from man to man is due.
Neo. Know, stranger, first, what most thou seem'st
to wish ;
We arQ of Greece.
Phi. O happiness to hear !
After so many years of dreadful silence, 220
How welcome was that sound ! O ! tell me, son !
What chance, what purpose, who conducted thee ?
What brought thee hither, what propitious gale ?
Who art thou ? Tell me all; inform me quickly.
Neo, Native of Scyros ! thither I return ; 225
225 Scyros was an island in the -^gean sea, of which Lyco-
SOPH. H
114
SOPHOCLES.
My name is Neoptolemus, the son
Of brave Achilles. I have told thee all
Phi. Dear is thy country, and thy father dear
To me, thou darling of old Lycoraede ! J^
But^eil me. in what fleet, and whence thou earnest ?
P^" ""Trom tW 1 I think thou wert not with us
When first our fleet sail'd forth.^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^ ^
Or k'now'st thou aught of that great enterprise ?
Phi. Know you not, then, the man whom you be-
Neo. How should I know whom I had never seen ?
Phi Have you ne'er heard of mc, nor of my name ?
Hath my sad story never reachM your ear?
Neo. Never. , ,
p„, Alas ! how hateful to the gods,
How very poor a wretch must T be, then.
Thai Greece should never hear of woes I^^e mine ! 240
But they who sent me hither, they conceal d them,
And smile triumphant, whilst my cruel ^vounds .
Grow deeper still. O, sprung from great Achilles !
Behold before thee Paean's wretched son.
With whom (a chance but thou hast heard) remain 245
The dreadful arrows of renown'd Alcides ;
Ev'n the unhappy Philoctetes ; him.
Whom the Atridse, and the vile Ulysses,
Inhuman left, distemper'd as I was
Bv the envenom'd serpent's deep felt wound. 250
Soon as they saw, that, with long toil oppress d,
meJes was king. Hither Achilles was brought in woman's
frfn.^pl to avoil the Trojan war; and, falhng m love with
iTctet^s calls him ' the darling of old Lycomede,
PHILOCTETES. — ACT II.
115
Sleep had o'erta'en me on the hollow rock.
There did they leave me, when from Chrysa's shore
They bent their fatal course: a little food.
And these few rags, were all they would bestow. 255
Such one day be their fate ! Alas ! my son,
How dreadful, think'st thou, was that waking to me,
When from my sleep I rose, and saw them not !
How did I weep, and mourn my wretched state.
When not a ship remain'd of all the fleet 260
That brought me here ! No kind companion left
To minister or needful food or balm
To my sad wounds ! on every said I look'd,
And nothing saw but wo ; of that indeed
Measure too full ; for day succeeding day, 265
And still no comfort came. Myself alone
Could to myself the means of life aflbrd
In this poor grotto ; on my bow I lived :
The winged dove, which my sharp arrow slew.
With pain I brought into my little hut, 270
And feasted there; then from the broken ice
I slaked ray thirst, or crept into the wood
For useful fuel : from the stricken flint
I drew the latent spark, that warms me still.
And still revives : this with my humble roof, 275
Preserve me, son ! but, O ! ray wounds remain.
Thou seest an island desolate and waste ;
No friendly port, nor hopes of gain to tempt.
Nor host to welcome in the traveller :
Few seek the wild, inhospitable shore, 280
By adverse winds, sometimes the unwilling guests
(As well thou mayst suppose) were hither driven ;
But when they came, they only pitied me.
Gave me a little food, or better garb
To shield me from the cold ; in vain I pray'd 285
That they would bear me to my native soil,
116
SOPHOCLES.
PHILOCTETES. — ACT II.
117
For none would listen. Here for ten long years,
Have I reraain'd whilst misery and famine
Keep fresh my wounds, and double ray misfortune.
^ This have the Atridae and Ulysses done, 290
And may the gods with equal woes repay them !
Cho. O son of Psean ! well might those who came,
And saw thee thus, in kind compassion, weep:
I too must pity thee : I can no more.
Neo. I can bear witness to thee, for I know 295
By sad experience what the Atridae are,
And what Ulysses.
Phi. Hast thou suffered, then ?
And dost thou bate them too ?
j^Eo. O • t^3t *^^s® hands
Could vindicate my wrongs! Mycenae, then,
And Sparta should confess, that Scyros boasts 300
Of sons as brave and valiant as their own.
Phi. O noble youth ! but wherefore camest thou
hither?
Whence this resentment ?
Neo. I will tell thee all,
If I can bear to tell it : know, then, soon
As great Achilles died —
Phi. O? stay ray son ! 305
Is then Achilles dead ?
Neo. He is, and not
By mortal hand, but by Apollo's shaft
Fell glorious.
Phi. O I most worthy of each other.
The slayer and the slain ! Permit me, son, 309
To mourn his fate, ere I attend to thine. [He weeps,
Neo. Alas ! thou need'st not weep for others' woes :
299, Xt 300 Two cities of Peloponnesus. Neoptoleraus here
threatens Agamemnon and Menelaas ; the former of whom
was king of Mycense, and the latter of Sparta,
Thou hast enough already of thy own.
Phi. 'Tis very true ; and therefore to thy tale.
Neo. Thus, then, it was. Soon as Achilles died,
Phoenix, the guardian of his tender years, 315
Instant sail'd forth, and sought me out at Scyros :
With him the wary chief, Ulysses, came.
They told me then, (or true or false I know not)
My father dead, by me, and me alone,
Proud Troy must fall : I yielded to their prayers; 320
I hoped to sem at least the dear remains
Of him, whom living I had long in vain
Wish'd to behold : safe at Sigeum's port
Soon we arrived ; in crowds the numerous host
Throng'd to embrace me, call'd the gods to witness,
In me once more they saw their loved Achilles 326
To life restored ; but he, alas ! was gone.
I shed the duteous tear, then sought my friends,
The Atridae, (friends I thought them) claim'd the arms
Of my dead father, and what else reraain'd 330
His late possession ; when (O cruel words !
And wretched I to hear thera !) thus they answer'd : —
' Son of Achilles ! thou in vain demand'st
Those arms, already to Ulysses given ;
The rest be thine.' I wept; * And is it thus,' 335
Indignant I replied, * ye dare to give
My right away ?' — * Know, boy !' Ulysses cried,
' That right was mine, and therefore they bestowed
The boon on me ; — me, who preserved the arras,
And him who bore them too.' With anger fired 340
At this proud speech, I threatened all that rage
Could dictate to me, if he not returned them.
Stung with my words, yet calm, he answer'd me : —
340 Ulysses was -reported to have taken away the dead
body of Achilles from the Trojans, and carried it oflf the field
of battle, to the Grecian camp.
118
SOPHOCLES.
* Thou wert not with us ; thou wert in a place
Where thou shouldst not have been : and since thou
meanest 345
To brave us thus, know, thou shalt never bear
Those arms with thee to Scyros ; 'tis resolved/
Thus injured, thus deprived of all I held
Most precious, by the worst of men, I left
The hateful place, and seek my native soil ; 350
Nor do I blame so much the proud Ulysses,
As his base masters. Army, city, all •
Depend on those who rule : when men grow vile.
The guilt is theirs who taught them to be wicked.
I've told thee all ; and him who hates the Atridae, 355
I hold a friend to me, and to the gods.
CHORUS. — STROPHE.
O Earth ! thou mother of great Jove,
Embracing all with universal love !
Author benign of every good,
Through whom Pactolus rolls his golden flood ! 360
To thee, whom in thy rapid car
Fierce lions draw, I rose, and made my prayer ;
To thee I made my sorrows known,
When from Achilles' injured son
The Atridai gave the prize, that fatal day, 365
When proud Ulysses bore his arms away.
Phi. I wonder not, my friend ! to see you here,
And I believe the tale ; for well I know
The men who wrong'd you, know the base Ulysses.
Falsehood and fraud dwell on his lips, and naught 370
360 The Earth, under the various names of Cybele, Ops,
Rhea, and Vesta, called the Mother of the Gods, was wor-
shipped in Phrygia and Libya, where the river Pactolus is
said to have enriched Croesus with its sands. Cybele is re-
presented by the poets as drawn by lions.
PHILOCTETES.— ACT II.
lid
375
380
That's just or good can be expected from him :
But strange it is to me, that, Ajax present,
He dare attempt it.
I^Eo. Ajax is no more :
Had he been living, I had ne'er been spoil'd
Thus of my right.
Phi. Is he then dead ?
Neo. H<^ 's-
Phi. Alas ! the son of Tydeus, and that slave
Sold by his father Sisypbus j— they live,
Unworthy as they are.
Neo. Alas ! they do,
And florish still.
Phi. My old and worthy friend,
The Pylian sage,— how is he ? He could see
Their arts, and would have given them better counsels.
Neo. Weigh'd down with grief, he lives ; but, most
unhappy.
Weeps his lost son, his dear Antilochus.
Phi. O double wo! Whom I could most have
wish'd
To live and to be happy, those to'perish ! 385
Ulysses to survive ! It should not be.
Neo. O, 'tis a subtile foe ! but deepest plans
May sometimes fail.
Phi^ Where was Patroclus then,
Thy father's dearest friend ?
^^o. He too was dead.
In war, alas ! (so Fate ordains it ever,) 390
376 Dioraed was the son of Tydeus.
877 It was reported that Anticlea was taken away by Laer-
tes after her marriage with Sisyphus, for which the first hus-
band received a sum of money : Ulysses, therefore, was otten
reproached with being the son of Sisyphus.
380 Nestor, king of Pylos. . t. m • „„,
383 Antilochus was slain by Memnon in the Irojan war.
120
SOPHOCLES,
The coward 'scapes, the brave and virtuous fall.
Phi. It is too true ; and now thou talk'st of cowards,
Where is that worthless wretch, of readiest tongue,
Subtile and voluble ?
Ned. Ulysses ?
Phi, No ;
Thersites; ever talking, never heard. 395
Neo. I have not seen him, but I hear he lives.
Phi. I did not doubt it : evil never dies ;
The gods take care of that : if aught there be
Fraudful and vile, 'tis safe ; the good and just
Perish unpitied by them. Wherefore is it ? 400
When gods do ill, why should we worship them ?
Neo. Since thus it is ; since virtue is oppressed,
And vice triumphant ; who deserve to live
Are doomed to perish, and the guilty reign ; —
Henceforth, O son of Paean ! far from Troy 405
And the Atridae will I live remote.
I would not see the man I cannot love.
My barren Scyros shall afford me refuge.
And home-felt joys delight my future days.
So fare thee well, and may the indulgent gods 410
Heal thy sad wound, and grant thee every wish
Thy soul can form ! Once more, farewell. I go.
The first propitious gale.
Phi. What, now, my son ?
So soon ?
Neo. Immediately; the time demands
We should be near, and ready to depart. 415
Phi. Now, by the memory of thy honored sire,
By thy loved mother, by whatever remains
On earth most dear to thee, O ! hear me now.
Thy suppliant : do not, do not thus forsake me.
Alone, oppress'd, deserted, as thou seest, 420
In this sad place. I shall (I know I must) be
425
430
435
PHILOCTETES. — ACT II. *2l
A burden to thee ; but, O ! bear it kindly.
For ever doth the noble mind abhor
The ungenerous deed, and loves humanity.
Disgrace attends thee if thou dost forsake me :
If not, immortal fame rewards thy goodness.
Thou mayst convey me safe to OEta's shores
In one short day : I'll trouble you no longer.
Hide me in any part where I may least
Molest you. Hear me, by the guardian god
Of the poor suppliant, all-protecting Jove,
I beg ! Behold me at thy feet : infirm,
And wretched as I am, I clasp thy knees.
Leave me not here, then, where there is no mark
Of human footstep ; take me to thy home,
Or to Euboea's port, to (Eta ; thence
Short is the way to Trachin, or the banks
Of Sperchius' gentle stream, to meet my father,
If yet he lives ; for, O ! I beggM him oft.
By those who hither came, to fetch me hence.
Or he is dead, or they, neglectful, bent
Their hasty course to their own native soil.
Be thou my better guide ; pity and save
The poor and wretched. Think, my son! how frail
And full of danger is the state of man, 445
Now prosperous, now adverse : who feels no ills,
Should therefore fear them ; and when Fortune smiles.
Be doubly cautious, lest destruction come
Remorseless on him, and he fall unpitied.
Cho, O, pity him, my lord ! for bitterest woes 450
And trials most severe he hath recounted.
Far be such sad distress from those I love !
O ! if thou hatest the base Atridae, now ^/^|
Revenge thee on them, serve their deadHest foe ;
436 Euboea was a large island in the uEgean sea, now called
Negropont. (Eta, a mountain in Thessaly, now called iJunma.
440
122
SOPHOCLES.
I. »
Bear Ihe poor suppliant to his native soil ; 455
So Shalt thou bless thy friend, and 'scape the wrath
Of the just gods, who still protect the wretched.
Neo. Your proflfer'd kindness, friends ! may cost
you dear :
When you shall feel his dreadful malady
Oppress you sore, you will repent it.
C«o. Never 460
Shall that reproach be ours.
Neo. In generous pity
Of the afflicted thus to be o'ercome
Were most disgraceful to me : he shall go.
May the kind gods speed our departure hence,
And guide our vessels to the wish'd-for shore ! 465
Phi. O happy hour ! O kindest, best of men !
And you, my dearest friends ! how shall I thank you ?
What shall I do to show my grateful heart ?
Let us be gone ; but, O ! permit me first
To take a last farewell of ray poor hut.
Where I so long have lived. Perhaps you'll say,
I must have had a noble mind to bear it.
The very sight, to any eyes but mine,
Were horrible ; but sad necessity
At length prevail'd, and made it pleasing to me. 475
Cho. One from our ship, my lord ! and with him
comes
A stranger. Stop a moment, till we hear
Their business with us.
Enter a Spy, in the habiiofa merchant j with another Grecian.
Spy. Son of great Achilles !
Know, chance alone hath brought me hither, driven
By adverse winds to where thy vessels lay 480
As home I sail'd from Troy ; there did I meet
This my companion, who inform'd me where
PHILOCTETES. — ACT II.
123
Thou mightst be found : hence to pursue my course,
And not to tell thee what concerns thee near.
Had been ungenerous ; thou, perhaps, meantime, 485
Of Greece and of her counsels naught suspecting ;—
Counsels against thee, not by threats alone.
Or words enforced, but now in execution.
Neo. Now by my virtue, stranger ! for thy news
I am much bound to thee, and will repay 490
Thy service tell me what the Greeks have done.
Spy. a fleet already sails to fetch thee back,
Conducted by old Phoenix, and the sons
Of valiant Theseus.
j^Eo. Come they then to force me?
Or am I to be won by their persuasion ? 495
Spy. I know not that ; you have what I could learn.
Neo. And did the.Atridae send them ?
gPY ' Sent they are,
And will be with you soon.
j^gQ But wherefore, then,
Came not Ulysses ? Did his courage fail ?
Spy. He, ere I left the camp, with Diomed
On some important embassy sail'd forth,
In search
Neo. Of whom.^
Spy.' There was a man but, stay,
Who is thy friend here ? Tell me, but speak softly.
[wh ispering him.
Neo. The famous Philoctetes.
Spy, Ha ! begone then
Ask me no more ; away immediately. 505
Phi. What do these dark, mysterious whispers mean ?
Concern they me, my son ?
li^EQ I know not what
500
«
491 Acamas and Demoph hon-
124
SOPHOCLES.
He means to say ; but I would have him speak
Boldly before us all, whatever it be.
Spy. Do not betray me to the Grecian host, 510
Nor make me speak what I would fain conceal :
I am but poor ; they have befriended me.
Neo. In me thou seest an enemy confess'd
To the Atridae ; this is my best friend,
Because he hates them too : if thou art mine, 515
Hide nothing then.
Spy. Consider first,
Neo. I have.
Spy. The blame will be on you.
Neo. Why, let it be ;
But speak, I charge thee. *
Spy. Since I must, then ; know,
In solemn league combined, the bold Ulysses,
And gallant Diomed, have sworn, by force 520
Or by persuasion, to bring back thy friend ;
The Grecians heard Leartes* son declare
His purpose : far more resolute he seeraM
Than Diomed, and surer of success.
Neo. But why the Atridae, after so long time, 525
Again should wish to see this wretched exile ; —
Whence this desire? came it from the angry gods,
To punish thus their inhumanity?
Spy. I can inform you ; for perhaps from Greece
Of late you have not heard. There was a prophet,
Son of old Priam, Helenus by name ; 531
Him in his midnight walks, the wily chief,
Ulysses, curse of every tongue, espied ;
Took him aii^d led him captive, to the Greeks
A welcome spoil. Much he foretold to all ; 535
And added last, that Troy should never fall,
TillPhiloctetes from this isle return'd.
Ulysses heard, and instant promise gave
PHILOCTETES. — ACT 11.
125
To fetch him hence ; he hoped by gentle means
To gain him ; those successless, force at last 540
Could but compel him: he would go, he cried,
And if he fail'd, his head should pay the forfeit,
I've told thee all, and warn thee to be gone,
Thou and thy friend, if thou wouldst wish to save him.
Phi. And does the traitor think he can pursuade me ?
As well might he pursuade me to return 546
From death to life, as his base father did.
Spy. Of that I know not : I must to my ship.
Farewell ; and may the gods protect you both ! [Exit.
Phi. Lead me, expose me to the Grecian host ! 550
And could the insolent Ulysses hope
With his soft flatteries e'er to conquer me ?
No ; sooner would I listen lo the voice
Of that fell serpent, whose envenom'd tongue
Hath lam'd me thus. But what is there he dare not
Or say or do I know he will be here 556
Ev'en now depend on't; therefore, let's away ;
Quick let the sea devide us from Ulysses:
Let us begone ; for well tim'd expedition
(The task performed) bring safety and repose 560
Neo. Soon as the wind permits us, we embark,
But now 'tis adverse.
Phi. Every wind is fair,
When we are flying from misfortune,
Neo. True-,
And 'tis against them too.
Phi. Alas ! no storms
547 Sisvphus, imagined by many to be the fath er of U bas.
ses ; concerning whom a superstitious report pfevailed, that,
having on his death-bed desired his wife not to bury him, on
his arrival in the infernal regions, he complained to Pluto of
her cruelty, in not performing the funeral obsequies, and was
by him permitted, on promise of immediate return, to revisit
this world, in order to punish her for the neglect ; but when
he came to earth, being unwilling to go back to Tartarus, he
was compelled by Mercury.
126
SOPHOCLES.
Can drive back fraud and rapine from their prey. 565
Neo. I *m ready ; take what may be necessary,
And follow me.
Phi. I want not much.
Neo. Perhaps
My ship will furnish you.
Phi. There is a plant
Which to ray wound gives some relief: I must
Have that.
Neo. Is there aught else ?
Phi. Alas ! my bow 570
I had forgot ; I must not lose that treasure.
iPhiloctetes steps towards his (jrotto, and brings out his
bow and arrows^^
Neo. Are these the famous arrows, then ?
Phi. They are.
Neo. And may I be permitted to behold,
To touch, to pay my adoration to them ? •74
Phi. In these my son ! in every thing that's mine,
Thou hast a right.
Neo. But if it be a crime,
I would not; otherwise
Phi. O ! thou art full
Of piety ; in thee it is no crime ;
In thee, my friend ! by whom alone I look
Once more with pleasure on the radiant sun ; -OSO
By whom I live ; who givest me to return
To my dear father, to my friends, my country.
Sunk as I was beneath my foes, once more
I rise to triumph o'er them, by thy aid.
Behold them, touch them, but return them to me, 585
And boast that virture which on thee alone
Bcstow'd such honor : virtue made them mine.
I can deny thee nothing : he, whose heart
Is grateful, can alone deserve the name
Of friend, to every treasure far superior. 590
PHILOCTETES. — ACT II.
J27
595
600
604
Neo. Go in. /
Phi. Come with me ; for my painful wound /
Requires thy friendly hand to help me onward.
{Exeunt, '
CHORUS.
strophe I.
Since proud Ixion (doom'd to feel
The tortures of the eternal wheel.
Bound by the hand of angry Jove)
Received the due rewards of impious love ; —
Ne'er was distress so deep, nor wo so great,
As on the wretched Philoctetes wait ;
Who, ever with the just and good,
Guiltless of fraud and rapine stood,
And the fair paths of virtue still pursued.
Alone on this hospitable shore,
Where waves for ever beat and tempests roar,
How could he e'er or hope or comfort know.
Or painful life suppport, beneath such weight of wo ?
ANTISTROPHE I.
Exposed to the inclement skies,
Deserted and forlorn he lies ;
A No friend or fellow-mourner there,
To soothe his sorrows, and divide his care ;
^Or seek the healing plant, of power to 'suagc
%is aching wound, and mitigate its rage :
But if, perchance, awhile released
From torturing pain, he sinks to rest,
Awaken'd soon, and by sharp hunger press'd,
Compell'd to wander forth in search of food.
He crawls in anguish to the neighboring wood ;
Ev'n as the tottering infant in despair.
Who mourns an absent mother's kind, supporting care.
strophe II.
The teeming Earth, which mortals still supplies
With every good, to him her seed denies ; 620
610
615
128
sophoci.es.
PHILOCTETES. — ACT III.
129
A stranger to the joy that flows
From the kind aid which man on man bestows :
Nor food, alas ! to him was given,
Save when his arrows pierced the birds of heaven ;
Nor e'er did Bacchus' heart-expanding bowl, 625
For ten long years, relieve his cheerless soul :
But glad was he his eager thirst to slake
In the unwholesome pool, or ever-stagnant lake.
ANTISTROPHE II.
But now, behold the joyful captive freed :
A fairer fate, and brighter days succeed ; 630
For he at last hath found a friend
Of noblest race, to save and to defend ;
To guide him with protecting hand,
And safe restore him to his native land ;
On Sperchius' flowery banks to join the throng 635
Of Melian nymphs, and lead the choral song
On QSta's top, which saw Alcides rise.
And from the flaming pilo ascend his native skies.
ACT III.
NEOPTOLEMUS, PHILOCTETES, CHORUS.
Neo. Come, Philoctetes ! why thus silent? Where-
fore
This sadden terror on thee ?
Phi. O !
Neo. Whence is it? 640
Phi. Nothing ; my son ! go on.
Neo. Is it thy wound
That pains thee thus ?
Phi. No ; I am better now :
635 Sperchius was a river in Thessaly.
636 Melos was an island near Candia, reckoned amonx the
Cycladetf and now called Milo.
\
O I gods !
Neo. Why dost thou call thus on the gods ?
Phi. To smile propitious, and preserve us O !
Neo. Thou art in misery. Tell me : wilt thou not ?
What is it ?
Phi. O my son ! I can no longer 646
Conceal it from thee. O ! 1 die, I perish !
By the great gods, let me implore thee, now,
This moment, if thou hast a sword, O ! strike ;
Cut ofi'this painful limb, and end my being. 65<)
Neo. What can this mean, that unexpected thus
It should torment thee ?
Phi. Know you not, my son ?
Neo. What is the cause ?
Phi. Can you not guess it ?
Neo. No.
Phi. Nor I.
Neo. That's stranger still.
Phi, My son, my son !
Neo. This new attack is terrible indeed ! 655
Phi. 'Tis inexpressible : have pity on me.
Neo. What shall I do ?
Phi. ~ Do not be terrified,
And leave me : its returns are regular.
And, like the traveller, when its appetite
Is satisfied, it will depart. O ! O ! Go;>
Neo. Thou art oppressed with ills on every side.
Give me thy hand : come, wilt thou lean upon me ?
Phi. No ; but these arrows, take, preserve them for
me
A little while, till I grow better : sleep
Is coming on me, and my pains will cease- 6G5
Let me be quiet ; if, meantime, our foes
Surprise thee, let nor force nor artifice
Deprive thee of the great, the precious trust
SOPH. I
I
130
SOPHOCLES.
I have reposed in thee : that were ruin
To thee, and to thy friend. ^ . -a m(\
j^j,Q Be not afraid ; 670
No hands but mine shall touch them : give them to me.
Phi Receive them, son ! and let it be thy prayer
Thev bring not woes on thee, as they have done
To me, and to Alcides. \,Gives him the bow and arrows.
Ned M^y ^^*® ^°^^
Forbid it ever ! may they guide our course, 675
And speed our prosperous sails !
Pj^j Alas ! my son !
I fear thy vows are vain ; behold, my blood
Flo ws from th e wound : O, how it pains me ! now,
It comes, it hasten^ do not, do not leave me ;
O, that Ulysses felt this racking torture, ^^
Ev'n to his inmost soul I Again it comes.
O Agamemnon ! Menelaus I why
Should not you bear these pangs as I have done .
O Death ! where art thou. Death ? so often call d,
Wilt thou not listen ? wilt thou never come ? t)»&
Take thou the Lemnian fire, my generous friend !
Do me the same kind office which J. did
For my Alcides ; these are thy reward. ^
He gave them to me ; thou alone deserv st
The great inheritance. What says my friend ? 690
What says my dear preserver ? O ! where art thou ?
Neo. I mourn thy hapless fate.
p^j^ Be of good cheer;
Quick my disorder comes, and goes as soon.
I only beg thee not to leave me here.
fiS6 Alluding, most probably, to the generally received
op^fon that thf forg^s^of Vuk^^ were in the island of Lem-
"^fifi7 Philoctetes had attended his friend Hercules in his last
moments and se?Sre to the funeral pile, when he expired on
the top of Mount (Eta.
PHILOCTETES.— ACT III.
131
Neo. Depend on% I will stay.
Phi- Wilt thou indeed ? 695
Neo. Trust me, I will.
Phi. I need not bind thee to it
By oath.
Neo. O, no ; 'twere impious to forsake thee.
Phi. Give me thy hand, and pledge thy faith.
Neo. I do.
Phi. Thither, O ! thither lead.
I pointing up to heaven.
Neo. What say'st thou ? where ?
Phi. Above.
Neo. What, lost again ? Why look'st thou thus 700
On that bright circle ?
Phi« Let me, let me go.
Neo. [lays hold of him.] Where wouldst thou go?
Phi. Loose me.
Neo. I will not.
Phi. o !
You'll kill me if you do not.
Neo. [lets him go,] There, then ; now
Is thy mind better ?
Phi. O ! receive me, earth ;
Receive a dying man : here must I lie ; 705
For, O ! my pain's so great, I cannot rise.
[Philoctetes sinks down on the earth near the entrance qf the cave-l
NEOPTOLEMUS, CHORUS.
Neo. Sleep hath o'erta'en him : see, his head is laid
On the cold earth ; the balmy sweat thick drops
From every limb, and from the broken vein 709
Flows the warm blood : let us indulge his slumbers.
INVOCATION TO SLEEP.
Cho. Sleep, thou patron of mankind!
Great physician of the mind I
132
SOPHOCLES.
715
720
725
Who dost nor pain nor sorrow know;
Sweetest balm of every wo ;
Mildest sovereign ! hear us now ;
Hear thy wretched suppliant's vow :
His eyes in gentle slumbers close,
And continue his repose.
Hear thy wretched suppliant's vow :
Great physician ! hear us now.
And now, my son ! what best may suit thy purpose
Consider well, and how we are to act.
What more can we expect? The time is come ;
For better far is opportunity
Seized at the lucky hour, than all the counsels
Which wisdom dictates, or whick craft inspires.
Neo. He hears us not : but easy as it is
To gain the prize, it would avail us nothing
Were he not with us. Phoebus hath reserved
For him alone the crown of victory :
But thus to boast of what we could not do,
And break our word, were most disgraceful to us.
Cho. The gods will guide us, fear it not, my son !
But what thou say'st, speak soft, for well thou know'st
The sick man's sleep is short : he may awake 735
And hear us ; therefore let us hide our purpose.
It then thou think'st as he does,--thou know'st whom,
This is the hour : at such a time, ray son !
The wisest err ; but ma k me, the w ind's fair,
And Philoctetes sleeps, void of all help,
Lame, impotent, unable to resist.
He is as one among the dead ; ev'n now
We'll take him with us ; 'twere an easy task.
Leave it to me, my son ! there is no danger. 744
Neo. No more ; his eyes are open : see he moves.
737 The Chorus here means Ulysses.
730
i
740
PHILOCTETES. — ACT HI. 133
PHILOCTETES, NEOPTOLEMUS, CHORUS.
Phi. [Awaking,] O fair returning light ! beyond my
hope !
You too, my kind preservers ! O my son !
I could not think you would have stay'd so long
In kind compassion to thy friend. Alas !
The Atridaj never would have acted thus : 750
But noble is thy nature, and thy birth ;
And therefore little did my wretchedness.
Nor from my wounds the noisome stench deter
Thy generous heart. I have a little respite.
Help me, my son ! I'll try to rise ; this weakness 755
Will leave me soon, and then we'll go together.
Neo. I little thought to find thee thus restored.
Trust me, I joy to see thee free from pain.
And hear thee speak ; the marks of death were on thee.
Raise thyself up ; thy friends here, if thou wilt, 760
Shall carry thee, 'twill be no burden to them.
If we request it.
Phi, No ; thy hand alone.
I will not trouble them ; 'twill be enough
If they can bear with me and my distemper,
When we embark.
Neo. Well, be it so ; but rise. 765
\_Pfdloctetes rises.
Phi. O never fear ; I'll rise as well as ever. lExeu7it.
ACT IV.
NEOPTOLEMUS, PHILOCTETES, CHORUS.
Neo. How shall I act ?
Phi. What says my son ?
Neo.
Alas!
134
SOPHOCLES.
PHILOCTETES. — ACT IV.
1.35
I know not what to say ; my doubtful mind —
Phi. Talk'd you of doubts ? You did not surely.
Neo. Ay, ,
That's my misfortune. ^ ;
// Phi. Is then my distress t70
Thejcause at last you will not take me with you ?
Neo. All is distress and misery, when we act
Against ourjiature, and consent to ill.
"Pfff. But, sure, to help a good man in misfortunes
Is not against thy nature.
Neo. Men will call me 776
A villain ; that distracts me.
Phi, Not for this,
For what thou mean'st to do, thou mayst deserve it.
Neo. What shall I do ? Direct me, Jove ! To hide
What I should speak, and tell a base untruth,
Were double guilt.
Phi. He purposes at last, 780
I fear it much, to leave me.
N Eo. Leave thee ? No.
But how to make thee go with pleasure hence.
There I 'm distress'd.
Phi. I understand thee not ;
What means my son ?
Neo. I can no longer hide
The dreadful secret from thee : thou art going 785
To Troy, ev'n to the Greeks, to the Atridae.
Phi. Alas ! what say'st thou ?
Neo. Do not weep, but hear me.
Phi. What must I hear ? What wilt thou do with me ?
Neo. First, set thee free ; then carry thee my friend !
To conquer Troy.
Phi. Is this indeed thy purpose ? 790
Neo. This am I bound to do.
Phi. Then am I lost,
795
800
805
Undone, betray'd. Canst thou, my friend ! do this ?
Give me my arms again.
Neo. It cannot be :
I must obey the powers who sent me hither:
Jtnsttce enjoins : the comraon cause demands it.
PHnThoii worst of men! thou vile artificer
Of fraud most infamous ! what hast thou done ?
How have I been deceived ? Dost thou not blush
To look on me, to behold me thus
Beneath thy feet imploring? Base betrayer !
To rob me of my bow, the means of life.
The only means ; give them, restore them to me ;
Do not take all. Alas ! he hears me not,
Nor deigns to speak ; but casts an angry look.
That says, I never shall be free again.
O mountains, rivers, rocks, and savage herds !
To you I speak ; to you alone I now
Must breathe my sorrows ; you are wont to hear
My sad complaints, and I will tell you all
That I have suflfer*d from Achilles* son ;
Who, bound by solemn oath to bear me hence
To my dear, native soil, now sails for Troy.
The perjured wretch first gave his plighted hand,
Then stole the sacred arrows of my friend,
The son of Jove, the great Alcides : those
He means to show the Greeks, to snatch me hence
And boast his prize ; as if poor Philoctetes,
This empty shade, were worthy of his arm.
Had I been what I was, he ne'er had thus
Subdued me, and ev'n now to fraud alone
He owes the conquest : I have been betray'd.
Give me my arms again, and be thyself
Once more. O ! speak : thou wilt not ; then I'm lost.
O my poor hut ! again I come to thee,
Naked and destitute of food : once more 825
810
815
8Q0
136
SOPHOCLES.
PHILOCTETES.--ACT IV.
137
Receive me, here to die ; for now, no longer
Shall my swift arrow reach the flying prey,
Or on the mountains pierce the wandering herd :
I shall myself afford a banquet now
To those I used to feed on ; they the hunters, 830
And I their easy prey : so shall the blood,
Which I so oft have shed, be paid by mine ;
And all this too from him whom once I deem'd
Stranger to fraud, nor capable of ill.
And yet I will not curse thee, till I know 835
Whether thou still retain'st thy horrid purpose,
Or dost repent thee of it ; if thou dost not,
Destruction wait thee !
Cho, We attend your pleasure.
My royal lord ! we must be gone ; determine
To leave, or take him with us.
Neo. His distress 840
Doth move me much : 'trust me, I long have felt
Compassion for him.
Phi. O ! then by the gods
Pity me now, my son ! nor let mankind
Reproach thee for a fraud so base.
Neo. Alas !
What shall I do? Would I were still at Scyros ! 815
For I am most unhappy.
Phi. O my son
Thou art not base by nature, but misguided,
By those who are, to deeds unworthy of thee :
Turn then thy fraud on them who best deserve it,
Restore my arms, and leave me.
Neo. Speak, my friends ! 850
What's to be done ?
Ulys.
Enter Ulysses.
Ha ! dost thou hesitate ?
Traitor ! be gone ! give me the arms.
Phi. Ah me !
Ulysses here ?
Ulys. Ay ! 'tis Ulysses' self
That stands before thee.
Pni. Then Vm lost, betray'd :
This was the cruel spoiler,
Ulys. Doubt it not : 855
'Twas I ; I do confess it.
Phi. {to Neoptolemiis.] O my son !
Give me them back.
Ulys. It must not be; with them
Thyself must go, or we shall drag thee hence.
Phi. And will they force me ? 0,thou daring villain !
Ulys. They will, unless thou dost consent to go.
Phi. Wilt thou, O Lemnos ! wilt thou, mighty Vul-
can ! 861
With thy all -conquering fire, permit me thus
To be torn from thee ?
Ulys. Know, great Jove himself
Doth here preside : he hath decreed thy fate ;
I but perform his will.
Phi. Detested wretch 865
Makest thou the gods a cover for thy crime ?
Do they teach falsehood ?
Ulys. No ; they taught me truth ;
And therefore hence : that way thy journey lies.
{Pointing to the sea.
Phi. It doth not.
Ulys. But, I say, it must be so.
Phi. And Philoctetes, then, was born a slave ! 870
I did not know it.
Ulys. No, I mean to place thee
Ev'n with the noblest, ev'n with those by whom
Proud Troy must perish.
Phi. Never will I go,
^1
138
SOPHOCLES.
Befall what may, whilst this deep cave is open
To bary all my sorrows.
Ulys. What wouldst do ? 875
Phi. Here throw me down, dash out my desperate
brains
Against this rock, and sprinkle it with my blood.
Ulys. [to the Chorus,] Seize and prevent him.
[They seize him.
Phi. Manacled ! O hands !
How helpless are you now ! Those arms, which once
Protected, thus torn from you ! Thou abandoned, 880
[to Ulysses.
Thou shameless wretch ! from whom nortruth nor justice
Naught that becomes the generous mind, can flow,
How hast thou used roe ! how betray'd ! Suborn'd
This stranger, this poor youth, who, worthier far
To be my friend than thine, was only here 886
Thy instrument : he l^new not what he did,
And now, thou seest, repents him of the crime
Which brought such guilt on him, such woes on me.
But thy foul soul, which, from its dark recess
Trembling looks forth, beheld him void of art; 890
Unwilling as he was, instructed him,
And made him soon a master in deceit.
I am thy prisoner now ; ev'n now thou mean'st
To drag me hence, from this unhappy shore,
Where first thy malice left me, a poor exile, 895
Deserted, friendless, and though living, dead
To all mankind. Perish the vile betrayer !
O ! I have cursed thee often, but the gods
Will never hear the prayers of Philoctetes.
Life and its joys are thine ; whilst I, unhappy, 900
Am but the scorn of thee, and the Artridae,
Thy haughty masters : fraud and force com peird thee
902 Ulysses, unwilling to go amoDg the other chiefs to the
PHILOCTETES. — ACT IV.
139
905
915
r
Or thou hadst never saiFd with them to Troy.
I lent my willing aid ; with seven brave ships
I plough'd the main to serve them : in return,
They cast me forth, disgraced me, left me here.
Thou say'st, they did it ; they impute the crime
To thee ; and what will you do with me now ?
And whither must I go ? What end, what purpose,
Could urge thee to it ? I am nothing, lost 910
And dead already : wherefore, tell me, wherefore
Am I not still the same detested burden,
Loathsome and lame ? Again must Philoctetes
Disturb your holy rites ? If I am with you.
How can you make libations ? That was once
Your vile pretence for inhumanity.
O, may you perish for the deed ! The gods
Will grant it, sure, if justice be their care ;
And that it is, I know. You had not left
Your native soil, to seek a wretch like me.
Had not some impulse from the powers above.
Spite of yourselves, ordain'd it ! O my country !
And you, O gods ! who look upon this deed,
Punish, in pity to me, punish all
The guilty band. Could I behold them perish,
My wounds were nothing; that would heal them all.
Cho. [to Ulysses,] Observe, my lord ! what bitter-
ness of soul
His words express ; he bends not to misfortune,
But seems to brave it.
Ulys. I could answer him.
Were this a time for words ; but now, no more
Than this,— I act as best befits our purpose.
Where virtue, truth, and justice are required,
Ulysses yields to none : I was not born
siege of Troy, feigned himself mad ; but being detected by
Palamedes, was after all obliged to join them.
920
925
^
930
140
SOPHOCLES.
PHILOCTETES. — ACT IV.
141
To be o'ercome, and yet submit to thee.
Let him remain. Thv arrows shall suffice ; 935
We want thee not ; Teucer can draw thy bow
As well as thou ; myself, with equal strength,
Can aim the deadly shaft, with equal skill.
What could thy presence do ? Let Lemnos keep thee.
Farewell ! Perhaps the honors, once designed 940
For thee, may be reserved to grace Ulysses.
Phi. Alas ! shall Greece ihen see my deadliest foe
Adorn'd with arms which I alone should bear ?
Ulys. No more : I must be gone.
Phi. [to Neoptolemus,] Son of Achilles !
Thou wilt not leave me too ? I must not lose 945
Thy converse, thy assistance.
Ulys. [to Neoptolemus.] Look not on him :
Away, I charge thee ; 'twould be fatal to us.
Phi. [to the Chorus.] Will you forsake me, friends?
Dwells no compassion
Within your breasts for me ?
Cho. [j)oiniing to Neoptolemus.] He is our master ;
We speak and act but as his will directs. 950
Neo. I know he will upbraid me for this weakness ;
But His my nature, and I must consent,
Since Philoctetes asks it : stay you with him.
Till to the gods our pious prayers we offer,
And all things are prepared for our departure ; 955
Perhaps, meantime, to better thoughts his mind
May turn relenting. We must go : remember,
When we shall call you, follow instantly.
{^Exit with Ulysses,
Phi. O my poor hut ! and is it then decreed
Again I come to thee to part no more, 960
To end my wretched days in this sad cave,
The scene of all my woes? For whither now
Can I betake me ? who will feed, support,
Or cherish Philoctetes? Not a hope
Remains for me. O ! that the impetuous storms 965
Would bear me with them to some distant clime !
For I must perish here,
Cho. Unhappy man !
Thou hast provoked thy fate; thyself alone
Art to thyself a foe, to scorn the good
Which wisdom bids thee take, and choose misfortune.
Phi. Wretch that T am, to perish here alone ! 971
O ! I shall see the face of man no more.
Nor shall ray arrows pierce their winged prey.
And bring me sustenance ! Such vile delusions
Used to betray me. O! that pains, like those 975
I feel, might reach the author of my woes!
Cho. The gods decreed it ; we are not to blame :
Heap not thy curses, therefore, on the guiltless.
But take our friendship.
Phi. [pointing to the sea shore,'] I behold him there :
Ev'n now I see him laughing me to scorn, 980
On yonder shore, and in his hands the darts
He waves triumphant, which no arms but thes€
Had ever borne. O, my dear, glorious treasure !
Hadst thou a mind to feel the indignity,
How wouldst thou grieve to change thy noble master.
The friend of great Alcides, for a wretch 986
So vile, so base, so impious as Ulysses !
Cho. Justice will ever rule the good man's tongue,
Nor from his lips reproach and bitterness
Invidious flow. Ulysses, by the voice 990
Of Greece appointed, only sought a friend
To join the common cause, and serve his country.
Phi. Hear me, ye wing'd inhabitants of air!
And you, who on these mountains love to feed.
My savage prey, whom once I could pursue; 995
Fearful no more of Philoctetes, fly
142
SOPHOCLES.
PHILOCTETES. — ACT IV.
143
This hollow rock ; I cannot hurt yoa now.
You need not dread to enter here : alas !
You now may come, and in your turn regale
On these poor limbs, when I shall be no more. 1000
Where can I hope for food ? or who can breathe
This vital air, when life-preserving earth
No longer will assist him ?
Cho. By the gods
Tjct me intreat thee, if thou dost regard
Our master and thy friend, come to him now, 1005
Whilst thou mayst 'scape this sad calamity.
Who but thyself would choose to be unhappy.
That could prevent it ?
Phi. O ! you have brought back
Once more the sad remembrance of my griefs.
Why, why, my friends ! would you afflict me thus ?
Cho. Afflict thee, how ?
Phi. Think you, I'll e'er return 101 1
To hateful Troy.
Cho. We would advise thee to it.
Phi. I'll hear no more. Go, leave me.
Cho. That we shall
Most gladly : to the ships, my friends ! away, [going-
Obey your orders.
Phi. [stops themj] By protecting Jove, 1015
Who hears the suppliant's prayer, do not forsake me.
Cho. [returning.] Be calm then.
Phi. O my friends ! will you then stay ?
Do, by the gods I beg you.
Cho. Why that groan ?
Phi. Alas ! I die ! My wound, ^my wound ! Here-
after 1019
What can I do ? You will not leave me ; hear—
Cho. What canst thou say, we do not know already ?
Phi. O'erwhelm'd by such a storm of griefs as I am,
You should not thus resent a madman's frensy.
Cho. Comply, then, and be happy.
Phi. Never, never,
(Be sure of that) though thunder-bearing Jove 1025
Should with his lightnings blast me, would I go.
No ; let Troy perish, perish ail the host
Who sent me here to die ; but, O my friends !
Grant me this last request.
Cho. What is it? Speak. 1029
Phi. a sword, a dart, some instrument of death.
Cho. What wouidst thou do ?
Phi. I'd^ ^i^^k ofif every limb.
Death ; my soul longs for death.
Cho. But wherefore is it ?
Phi. ril seek my father.
Cho. Whither P
Phi. In the tomb ;
There he must be. O Scyros ! O my country !
How could I bear to see thee as I am? 1035
I, who had left thy sacred shores, to aid
The hateful sons of Greece ! O misery !
[Goes into the cave.
[Exeunt.
ACT V.
ULYSSES, NEOPTOLEMUS, CHORUS.
Cho. Ere now we should have ta'en thee to our ships,
But that advancing this way I behold
Ulysses, and with him Achilles' son. 1040
LFlys. Why this return? Wherefore this haste ?
Neo. I come
To purge me of my crimes.
Ulys. Indeed ! what crimes ?
Neo. My blind obedience to the Grecian host.
And to thy counsels.
Uly§.. Hast thou practised aught
,.JK^
144 SOPHOCLES.
Base, or unworthy of thee ?
Ned. Yes, by art 1045
And vile deceit betrayM the unhappy.
Ulys. Whom?
Alas ! what mean you ?
Neo. Nothing ; but the son
Of Psean-
Ulys. Ha! what wouldst thou do? My heart
Misgives me. [aside.]
^£0, I have ta'en his arras, and now
Ulys. Thou wouldst restore them ! Speak ! is that
thy purpose? ^^^*
Almighty Jove !
Neo. Unjustly should I keep
Another*s right.
Ulys. Now, by the gods, thou mean st
To mock me ; dost thou not ?
^^Q^ If to speak truth
Be mockery.
Ulys. And does Achilles' son
Say this to me?
I^Jeo^ Why force me to repeat 1(X5d
My words so often to thee ?
Ulys. Once to hear them,
Is once indeed too much.
l^jgQ^ Doubt then no more,
For I have told thee all.
^jlys. There are, remember, —
There are, who may prevent thee.
j^gQ^ Who shall dare
To thwart my purpose ? .
Ulys. All the Grecian host, 1060
And with them I.
jiJeo. Wise as thou art, Ulysses !
Thou talk'st most idly.
Ulys. Wisdom is not thine,
PHILOCTETES.— ACT V.
145
1065
Either in word or deed.
Neo. Know, to be just
Is better far than to be wise,
'-'''Ys. But where,
Where is the justice, thus unauthorised,
To give a treasure back thou owest to me,
And to my counsels ?
^^o. I have done a wrong,
And I will try to make atonement for it.
Ulys. Dost thou not fear the power of Greece ?
Neo. I fear
Nor Greece, nor thee, when I am doing right. 1070
Ulys. 'Tis not with Troy, then, we contend, but
thee.
Neo. I know not that.
Ulys. Seest thou this hand ? Behold,
It grasps my sword.
Neo. Mine is alike prepared,
Nor seeks delay.
Ulys. But I will let thee go : 1074
Greece shall know all thy guilt, and shall revenge it.
lEjcit Ulysses. *
Neo. Twas w ell determined : always be as wise
As now thou art, and thou mayst live in safety.
[.Approaching towards the cave.
Ho! son of Paean! Philoctetes ! leave
Thy rocky habitation, and come forth. 1079
Phi. [from the cave,] What noise was that? Who
calls on Philoctetes ? [He comes out,
Alas ! what would you, strangers ? Are you come
To heap fresh miseries on me?
Neo. Be of comfort,
And hear the tidings which I bring.
Phi,
I dare not
Thy flattering tongue already hath betray'd me. 1084
SOPH.
146
SOPHOCL£S«
PHILOCTETES. — ACT V.
W^
Neo. And is there, then, no room for penitence t
Phi: Such were thy words, when, seemingly sin-
cere,
Yet meaning ill, thou stolest my arms away.
Neo. But now it is not so. I only came
To know if thou art resolute to stay.
Or sail with us. ,
Phi. No more of that ; 'tis vam 1090
And useless all.
Neo. Art thou, then, fix'd ?
Phi. I am ;
It is impossible to say how firmly.
Neo. I thought I could have moved thee, but I 'te
done.
Phi. 'Tis well thou hast ; thy labor had been vain i
for never could my soul esteem the man 1095
Who robbM me of my dearest, best possession,
And now would have me listen to his counsels.
Unworthy offspring of the best of men !
Perish the Atridae ! perish first Ulysses !
Perish thyself!
• Neo. Withhold thy imprecations,
And take thy arrows back.
Phi. a second time
Wouldst thou deceive me ?
Neo. By the almighty power
Of sacred Jove, I swear.
Phi. O joyful sound !
If thou say'st truly.
Neo. Let my actions speak :
Stretch forth thy hand, and take thy arms again. 1105
IGives him the arrows.
Enter Ulysses.
Ulys. Witness, ye gods ! here in the name of Greece
And the Atridae, I forbid it !
Phi. Ha !
.
What voice is that ? UlySses ?
Ulys. Ay, 'tis I ;
I, who perforce will carry thee to Troy
Spite of Achilles' son.
Phi. [raising his arm as intending to throw an arrow at
Ulysses.] Not if I aim 1110
This shaft aright.
Neo. [laying hold of him.] Now, by the gods, I beg
thee,
Stop thy rash hand.
Phi. Let go my arm.
Neo. I will not.
Phi. Shall I not slay my enemy ?
Neo. O no;
'T would cast dishonor on us both.
Phi. Thou know'st
These Grecian chiefs are loud pretending boasters,
Brave but in tongue, and cowards in the field. 1116
Neo. I know it ; but remember, I restored
Thy arrows to thee, and thou hast no cause
For rage, or for complaint against thy friend.
Phi. I own thy goodness ; thou hast shown thyself
Worthy thy birth ; no son of Sisyphus, 1121
But of Achilles, who on earth preserved
A fame unspotted, and amongst the dead
Still shines superior, an illustrious shade.
Neo. Joyful I thank thee for a father's praise, 1125
And for my own ; but listen to my words,
And mark me well. Misfortunes, which the gods
Inflict on mortals, they perforce must bear ;
But when, oppress'd by voluntary woes, 1131
They make themselves unhappy, they deserve not
Our pity or our pardon ; such art thou.
Thy savage soul, impatient of advice.
Rejects the wholesome counsel of thy friend>
148
SOPHOCLES.
And treats him like a foe ; but I will speak,
Jove be my witness ! therefore hear my words, 1135
/^ And grave them in thy heart. The dire disease
Thoa long hast suflFer'd isjrom angry Heaven,
Which thus aflBlicts thee for thy rash approach
To tiiefell serpent, which on Chrysa's shore
WatcTi*d o*er the sacred treasures : know, besides 1140
That whilst the sun in yonder east shall rise,
Or in the west decline, disteraper'd still
Thou ever shalt remain, unless to Troy
Thy willing mind transport thee: there the sons
Of Esculapius shall restore thee ; there, 1145
By my assistance, shalt thou conquer Troy ;
I know it well : for that prophetic sage,
The Trojan captive Helenus, foretold
It should be so ; ' proud Troy,' he added then,
* xSiis very year must fall ; if not, my life 1 150
Shall answer for the falsehood :' therefore yield ;
Thus to be deem'd the first of Grecians ; thus
By Paean's favorite sons to be restored »
And thus mark'd out the conquerer of Troy,
Is sure distinguished happiness.
Pm. Olife 1155
Detested! why wilt thou still keep me here ?
Why not dismiss me to the tomb ? Alas !
What can I do ? How can I disbelieve
My generous friend ? I must consent, and yet
Can I do this, and look upon the sun ? 1160
Can I behold my friends ? Will they forgive,
Will they associate with me after this ?
And you, ye heavenly orbs, that roll around me !
How will you bear to see me link'd with those
Who have destroy 'd me ; ev'n the sons of Atreus, 1165
Ev'n with Ulysses, source of all my woes ?
My sufferings past I could forget ; but, O !
i
PHILOCTETES. — ACT V.
149
I dread the woes to come ; for well I know,
When once the mind 's corrupted, it brings forth
Unnumbered crimes, and ills to ills succeed. 1170
It moves my wonder much, that thou, my friend,
Shouldst thus advise me, whom it ill becomes
To think of Troy : I rather had believed
Thou wouldst have sent me far, far off from those
Who have defrauded thee of thy just right, 1 175
And gave thy arms away. Are these the men
Whom thou wouldst serve,— whom thou wouldst thus
. compel me
To save and to defend ? It must not be.
Remember, O my son ! the solemn oath
Thou gavest to bear me to my native soil. 1180
Do this, my friend ! remain thyself at Scyros,
And leave these wretches to be wretched still.
Thus shalt thou merit double thanks, from me
And from ray father ; nor by succor given
To vile betrayers prove thyself as vile. 1185
Neo. Thou say'st most truly ! yet confide in Hea-
ven,
Trust te thy friend, and leave this hated place.
Phi. Leave it^? For whom? For Troy and the
Atridae ?
These wounds forbid it.
Neo. They shall all be healed,
Where I will carry thee.
Phi. An idle tale 1100
Thou teirst me, surely, dost thoa not ?
Neo. X speak
What best may serve us both.
Phi. Bat, speaking thas.
Dost thoa not fear the offended gods ?
Neo. Why fear them ?
Can I offend the gods by doing good ?
160
SOPHOCLES.
PHILOCTETES.— ACT V.
161
Phi. What ^ood ? To whom ? To me, or to the
Atridae ?
Neo. I am thy friend, and therefore would persuade
thee.
Phi. And therefore give me to my foes.
Neo. Alas !
Let not misfortunes thus transport thy soul
To rage and bitterness.
Phi. Thou wouldst destroy me.
Neo. Thou know'st me not.
Phi. I know the Atridae well, 1200
Who left me here.
Neo. They did ; yet they, perhaps,
Ev*n they, O Philoctetes ! may preserve thee.
Phi. I never will to Troy.
Neo. What 's to be done ?
Since I can ne'er persuade thee, I submit :
Live on in misery.
Phi. Then let me suffer ; 1205
Suffer I must ; but, O ! perform thy promise ;
Think on thy plighted faith, and guard me home
Instant, my friend ; nor ever call back Troy
To my remembrance. I have felt enough
From Troy already.
Neo. Let us go ; prepare. 1310
Phi. O glorious sound !
Neo. Bear thyself up.
Phi. I will,
If possible.
Neo. But how shall I escape
The wrath of Greece ?
"FhC O ! think not of it.
Neo. '" What
If they should waste my kingdom ?
HPhT. I '11 be there,
f
1220
Neo. Alas ! what canst thou do ?
Pjj,^ And with these arrows 1216
OfmyAlcides— , ,
Neo. Ha! what say 'st. thou?
Phi. " »"^^
Thy foes before me ; not a Greek shall dare
Approach thy borders.
Neo. I^ *1>o" ^'** ^^ ^^**'
Salute the earth, and instant hence. Away I
Hercules descends and speaks*
Stay, son of Psean ! Lo ! to thee 'tis given
Once more to see and hear thy loved Alcides,
Who for thy sake hath left yon heavenly mansions,
And comes to tell thee the decrees of Jove ;
To turn thee from the paths thou mean'st to tread.
And guide thy footsteps right : therefore attend. 1225
Thou know'st what toils, what labors I endured,
Ere I by virture gain'd immortal fame ;
Thou too, like me, by toils must rise to glory ;
Thou too must suffer ere thou canst be happy.
Hence with thy friend to Troy, where honor calls, 1230
Where health awaits thee ; where, by virtue raised
To highest rank, and leader of the war,
Paris, its hateful author, shalt thou slay.
Lay waste proud Troy, and send thy trophies home.
Thy valor's due reward, to glad thy sire. 1236
On CEta's top, the gifts which Greece bestows.
Must thou reserve to grace my funeral pile.
And be a monument to after ages
Of these all-conquering arms. Son of Achilles !
\lurning to Neoptolemus,
(For now to thee I speak) remember this ; 1240
Without his aid thou canst not conquer Troy,
Nor Philoctetes without thee succeed.
152
SOPHOCLES.
PHILOCTETES. — ACT V.
153
Go, then ; and, like two lions in the field
Roaming for prej-, guard you each other well :
My Esculapius will I send ev'n now 1245
To heal thy wounds ; then go, and conquer Troy,
But when you lay the vanquished city waste,
Be careful that you venerate the gods ;
For far above all other gifts, doth Jove,
The almighty father, hold true piety. 1250
Whether we live or die, that still survives
Beyond the reach of fate, and is immortal.
Neo. Once more to let me hear that wish'd-for voice,
To see thee after so long a time, was bliss
I could not hope for. O ! I will obey 1255
Thy great commands most willingly.
Phi. And I.
Her. Delay not, then ; for lo ! a prosperous wind
Swells in thy sail : the time invites. Adieu !
[Hercules re-ascends.
Phi. I will but pay my salutations here,
And instantly depart. To thee, my cave ! 1260
Where I so long have dwelt, I bid farewell ;
And you, ye nymphs ! who on the watery plains
Deign to reside, farewell I Farewell, the noise
Of beating waves, which I so oft have htiard 1264
From the rough sea, which, by the black winds driven,
O'erwhelmM me shivering. Oft the Hermaean mount
Echoed my plaintive voice, by wintry storms
Afflicted, and return'd me groan for groan.
Now, ye fresh fountains ! each Lycsean spring !
I leave you now. Alas ! I little thought 1270
To leave you ever : and thou sea-girt isle,
Lemnos, farewell ! Permit me to depart
By thee unblamed, and with a prosperous gale
To go where fate demands, where kindest friends
By counsel urge me, where all-powerful Jove 1275
In his unerring wisdom hath decreed.
Cho. Let us be gone, and to the ocean nymphs
Our humble prayers prefer, that they would all
Propitious smile, and grant us safe return.
1266 A mountain in Lemnos.
ANTIGONE.
DRAMATIS PERSONS.
Crbon, king of Thebes.
EuRYDiCB, wifeofCreon.
H^MON, son of Creon.
Antigone, Daughter of (Edipus,
IsMENE, sister of Antigone.
TiRESiAS, a prophet.
A Messenger, Guard, Servant, and Attendants.
Chorus> composed of ancient men of Thebes.
ARGUMENT.
Eteocles and Polynices, sons of CEdipus, having an equal
claim to the kingdom of Thebes, agreed to reign year by
year alternately : but Eteocles, succeeding first to the throne
by priority of birth, broke the contract, and maintained
himself in the possession of his dominions. Polynices, in
revenge, raised an army of Argians, and made an incursion
into Thebes ; where, after great slaughter on both sides,
the brothers were slain by each other in single combat.
The kingdom now devolved to their uncle Creon, whose
first act of supreme power was an edict, forbidding all rites
of sepulture to Polynices, as a traitor ; and pronouncing
instant death on any who should dare to bury him. This
iaimDaan decree,jind the^ that awaited its infraction,
failed, however, to deter his 8ister_Antigone_ from bestow-
ing the la,st duties to lier unfortunate brother ; and, being
detected in the prosecutron of Ter deslgir sen-
tenced" byTBe~ tyrant to imprisonment in a cavef where she
was to perish with hunger. Hsemon, the son of Creon, and
the bethrothed husband of Afftlgdne, endeavored, by his in-
fluence with his father, to arrest this cruel mandate ; and,
failing of success, slew himself. The punishment of Creon,
did not stop here ; for his wife Eurydice, in despair for the
death of her son, put a period to her existence ; leaving the
unhappy monarch to atone, by a fruitless remorse, for his past
rigor and injustice.
ACT I.
ANTIGONE, ISMENE.
41 Ant. O my dear sister, my best-loved Ismene !
Is there an evil, by the wrath of Jove
Reserved for (Edipus' unhappy race,
10
15
158 SOPHOCLES.
We have not fell already? Sorrow and shame,
And bitterness and anguish,— all that's sad,
All that 's distressful, hath been ours ; and now
This dreadful edict from the tyrant comes
To double our misfortunes. Hast thou heard
What harsh commands he hath imposed on all ;
Or art thou still to know what future ills
Our foes have yet in store to make us wretched ?
IsM. Since that unhappy day, Antigone !
When by each other's hand our brothers fell,
And Greece dismiss'd her armies, I have heard
Naught that could give or joy or grief to me.
Ant. I thought thou wert a stranger to the tidings ;
And therefore call'd thee forth, that here alone
I might impart them to thee.
Is^,^ O ! what are they ?
For something dreadful labors in thy breast.
Ant. Know then, from Creon, our indulgent lord.
Our hapless brothers met a diflferent fate ; 21
To honor one, and one to infamy,
He hath consigned : with funeral rites he graced
The body of our dear Eteocles,
Whilst Polynices' wretched carcass lies
Unburied, unlamented, left exposed
A feast for hungry vultures on the plain.
No pitying friend will dare to violate
The tyrant's harsh command, for public death
Awaits the offender ; Creon comes himself
To tell us of it, such is our condition.
This is the Crisis, this the hour, Ismene !
That must declare thee worthy of thy birth,
Or show thee mean, base, and degenerate.
Ism. What wouldst thou have mc do? Defy
power ?
Contemn the laws ?
Ap^t. To act with me, or not :
AJJTtGONfe.—ACT 1.
159
25
30
his
35
Consider, and resolve.
Ism. What daring deed
Wouldst thou attempt ? What is it ? Speak !
Ant. To join
And take the body, my Ismene !
IsM. Ha !
And wouldst thou dare to bury it, when thus
We are forbidden ?
Ant. Ay, to bury him :
He is my brother, and thine too, Ismene !
Therefore, consent or not, I have determined
I 'II not disgrace my birth.
Ism. Hath not the king
Pronounced it death to all ?
Ant. He hath no right, 45
No power to keep me from my own.
Ism. Alas !
Remember our unhappy father's fate ;
His eyes torn out by his own fatal hand.
Oppressed with shame and infamy, he died :
Fruit of his crimes, a mother and a wife, 50
Dreadful alliance ! self-devoted, fell ;
And last, in one sad day, Eteocles
And Polynices, by each other slain.
Left as we are, deserted and forlorn.
What from our disobedience can we hope, 55
But misery and ruin ? Poor, weak women, \
Helpless, nor form*d by nature to contend \
With powerful man ; we are his subjects too. \
Therefore to this, and worse than this, my sister,
We must submit ; for me, in humblest prayer 60
Will I address me to the infernal Powers
For pardon of that crime, which, well they know,
Sprang from necessity, and then obey ;
Since to attempt what we can never hope
To execute, is folly all, and madness. 65
f-
160
SOPHOCLES,
70
75
80
Ant. Wert thou to proffer what I do not ask,—
Thy poor assistance, I would scorn it now.
Act as thou wilt ; I 'II bury him myself:
Let me perform but that, and death is welcome.
I '11 do the pious deed, and lay me down
Bv my dear brother; loving and beloved,
We 'U rest together : to the Powers below,
'Tis fit we pay obedience ; longer there
We must remain, than we can breathe on earth ;
There I shall dwell for ever; thou, meantime.
What the gods hold most precious mayst despise.
IsM. I reverence the gods ; but, in defiance
Of laws, and unassisted, to do this,
It were most dangerous.
^^j That be thy excuse.
Whilst I prepare the funeral pile.
IsM. Alas!
I tremble for thee.
j^j^T, Tremble for thyself,
And not for me.
Ism O ! do not tell thy purpose,
I bes thee, do not ; I shall ne'er betray thee.
Ant. I 'd have it known ; and I shall hate thee more
For thy concealment, than if loud to all 85
Thou wouldst proclaim the deed.
jg^ Thou hast a heart
Too daring, and ill-suited to thy fate.
Ant. I know my duty, and I '11 pay it there
Where 'twill be best accepted.
jgj^ Couldst thou do it ;
Bat 'tis not in thy power.
^j,^^ When I know that, 90
It will be time enough to quit my purpose.
IsM. It cannot be ; His folly to attempt it.
Ant. Go on, and I shall hate thee: our dead bro-
ther,
ANTIGONE. — ACT I.
161
He too shall hate thee as his bitterest foe.
Go, leave me here to suffer for my rashness ; 95
Whatever befals, it cannot be so dreadful
As not to die with honor.
Ism. Then farewell,
Since thou wilt have it so ; and know, Ismene
Piiies thy weakness, but admires tby virtue. [Exeunt.
CHORUS.
STROPHE 1.
By Dirce's sweetly-flowing stream, JOO
Ne'er did the golden eye of day
On Thebes with fairer lustre beam.
Or shine with more auspicious ray.
See, the proud Argive, with his silver shield
And glittering armor, quits the hostile plain ; 105
No longer dares maintain the luckless field,
But vanquish'd flies, nor checks the loosen'd rein.
With dreadful clangor, like the bird of Jove,
On snowy wings descending from above,
His vaunted powers to this devoted land, 110
In bitterest wrath, did Polynices lead :
With crested helmets, and a numerous band
He came, and fondly hoped that Thebes should bleed.
ANTISTROPHE I.
High on the lofty tower he stood.
And viewM the encircled gates below, 115
With spears that thirsted for our blood.
And seem'd to scorn the unequal foe :
But fraught with vengeance, ere the rising flame
Could waste our bulwarks, or our walls surround.
Mars to assist the fiery serpent came, 120
And brought the towering eagle to the ground.
120 By the dragon, or fiery serpent, we are to understand
the Theban army attacked by the eagle Polynices.
SOPH, ^ L
162
SOPHOCLES.
125
130
That god, who hates the boastings of the proud,
Saw the rude violence of the exulting crowd.
A'ready now the triumph was prepared,
The wreath of victory, and the festal song,
When Jove the clash of golden armor heard.
And hurl'd his thunder on the guilty throng.
STROPHE II.
Then Capaneus, elate with pride.
Fierce as the rapid whirlwind came ;
Eager he seem'd on every side
To spread the all-devouring flame :
But soon he felt the winged lightning's blast.
By angry Heaven with speedy vengeance sent :
Down from the lofty turrets headlong cast.
For his foul crimes he met the punishment. i«5J>
Each at his gate, long time the leaders strove.
Then fled, and left their arms to conquering Jove ;
Save the unhappy death devoted pair.
The wretched brethren, who unconquer d stood :
With rancorous hate inspired, and fell despair, 14U
They wreak'd their vengeance in each other s blooa.
ANTISTROFHE II.
And, lo ! with smiles propitious see,
To Thebes, for numerous scars renown d .
The goddess comes, fair Victory,
With fame and endless glory crownM !
Henceforth, no longer vex'd by war's alarms,
Let all our sorrows, all our labors cease :
Come, let us quit the din of rattling arms.
And fill our temples with the songs of peace.
The god of Thebes shall guide our steps aright,
And crown with many a lay the festive night.
128 Capaneus was one of the seven captains who carne
aeainst Thebes. It is said that, after he had mounted to the
tTof the scaUng-ladders, he was struck dead with hghtmng.
145
150
ANTIGONE. — ACT II. 163
But see, still anxious for his native land.
Our king, Menoeceus' valiant son, appear:
With some fair omen, by the gods' command, 154
He comes to meet his aged council here. [Exeuju.
ACT II.
CREON, CHORUS.
Cre. At length, our empire, shook by civil broils,
The gods to peace and safety have restored ;
Wherefore, my friends ! you had our late request
That you should meet us here ; for well I know
Your firm allegiance to great Laius, next 160
To CEdipus, and his unhappy sons ;
These by each other's hand untimely slain,
To me the sceptre doth of right descend.
As next in blood. Never can man be known,
His mind, his will, his passions, ne'er appear* 165
Till power and oifice call them forth ; for me,
'Tis my firm thought, and I have held it ever, ^
That he who rules, and doth not follow that
Which wisdom counsels, but, restrain'd by fear,
Shuts up his lips, must be the worst of men ; ' 170
Nor do I deem him worthy, who prefers
A friend, bow dear soever, to his country.
Should I behold (witness, all-seeing Jove!) ^
This city wrong'd, I never would be silent ; -^
Never would make the foe of Thebes my friend, 175
For on her safety must depend our own ;
And if she flourish, we can never want
Assistance or support : thus would I act ;
And therefore have I sent my edict forth'
Touching the sons of CEdipus, commanding 180
That they should bury him who nobly fought
164
SOPHOCLES,
186
190
And died for Thebes, the good Eteocles,
Gracing his memory with each honor due
To the illustrious deed ; for Polynices,
Abandoned exile ! for a brother's blood
Thirsting insatiate ;— he, who would in flames
Have wasted all, his country, and his gods,
And made you slaves;— I have decreed, he lie
Unburied, his vile carcass to the birds
And hungry dogs a prey ; there let him rot
Inglorious ; 'tis my will : for ne'er from me
Shall vice inherit Virtue's due reward,
But him alone, who is a friend to Thebes,
Living or dead, shall Creon reverence still.
Cho. Son of Menoeceus ! 'twasthy great behest 196
Thus to reward them both : thine is the power
O'er all supreme, the living and the dead.
Cre. Be careful, then, my orders are obey'd.
Cho. O sir ! to younger hands commit the task.
Cre. I have appointed some to watch the body. 200
Cho. What then remains for us ?
Qj^^^ To see that none,
By your connivance, violate the law.
Cho. Scarce will the man be found so fond of death
As to attempt it.
Cre. Death is the reward
Of him who dares it ; but ofttimes, by hope 205
Of sordid gain, are men betray'd to ruin.
Enter Messenger.
Mes. O king ! I cannot boast that, hither sent,
I came with speed, for oft my troubled thoughts
Have driven me back : oft to myself I said,
* Why dost thou seek destruction ? Yet again, 210
If thou report it not, from other tongues
Creon must hear the tale, and thou wilt sufl'er.'
ANTIGONE.— ACT II.
165
/
I
With doubts like these oppress'd, slowly I came,
And the short way seem'd like a tedious journey.
At length I come, resolved to tell thee all .- 215
Whate'er the event, I must submit to fate.
Cre. Whence are thy fears, and why this hesitation ?
Mes. First for myself; I merit not thy wrath :
It was not I, nor have I seen the man
Who did the guilty deed.
Cre. Something of weight 220
Thou hast to impart, by this unusual care
To guard thee from our anger.
Mes. Fear will come
Where danger is.
Cre. Speak, and thou hast thy pardon.
Mes. The body of Polynices some rash hand
Hath buried, scatter'd o'er his corpse the dust, 225
And funeral rites performed.
Cre. Who dared do this ?
Mes. 'Tis yet unknown : no mark of instrument
Is left behind ; the earth still level all,
Nor worn by track of chariot wheel. The guard,'
Who watch'd that day, call it a miracle ; 2a0
No tomb was raised ; light lay the scatter'd earth,
As only meant to avoid the imputed curse ;
Nor could we trace the steps of dog or beast
Passing that way. Instant a tumult rose ;
The guards accused each other ; naught was proved.
But each suspected each, and all denied, 236
Offering, in proof of innocence, to grasp
The burning steel, to walk through fire, and take
Their solemn oath they knew not of the deed. ^
At length, one mightier than the rest proposed 240
(Nor could we think of better means) that all
Should be to thee discover'd : 'twas my lot
To bring the unwelcome tidings ; and I come
To pour my news, unwilling, into ears
166
SOPHOCLES.
244
Unwilling to receive it ; for I know
None ever loved the messenger of ill.
r Cho. To me it seems as if the hand of Heaven
^ Were in this deed.
Cue. Be silent, ere my rage,
Thou rash old man ! pronounce thee fool and dotard.
i Horrid suggestion ! think'st thou then the gods 250
I Take care of men like these ? Would they preserve
Or honor him, who came to burn their altars,
Profane their rites, and trample on their laws?
) Will they reward the bad ? It cannot be :
But well I know, the murmuring citizens 255
Brook'd not our mandate, shook their heads in secret,
And, ill-affected to me, would not stoop
Their haughty crests, or bend beneath my yoke :
By hire corrupted, some of these have dared
The venturous deed. Gold is the worst of ills 260
That ever plagued mankind ; this wastes our cities,
Drives forth their natives to a foreign soil.
Taints the pure heart, and turns the virtuous mind
To basest deeds ; artificer of fraud
Supreme, and source of every wickedness.
The wretch, corrupted for this hateful purpose,
Must one day suffer ; for, observe me well ;
As I revere that Power by whom I swear,
Almighty Jove ; if you conceal him from me.
If to my eyes you do not bring the traitor.
Know, death alone shall not suffice to glut
My vengeance : living shall you hang in torments,
Till you confess, till you have learn'd from me
There is a prophet not to be desired ;
And own, dishonest gains have ruin'd mop;' 275
Than they have saved.
Mes. O king • ™^y ^ tJeP^"^^*
Or wait thy farther orders ?
Cj^j.^ Know'st thou not
265
270
ANTIGONE. — ACT 11.
167
Thy speech is hateful ? Hence !
Mes. Wherefore, my lord?
Cre. Know you not why ?
Mes. I but offend your ear ;
They who have done the deed afflict your soul. 280
Cre. Away ; thy talk but makes thy guilt appear.
Mes. My lord, I did not do it.
Cre. Thou hast sold
Thy life for gain,
Mes. 'Tis cruel to suspect me.
Cre. Thou talk*st it bravely ; but remember all,
Unless you do produce him, you shall find 285
The miseries which on ill got wealth await. [Exit,
Mes. Would he were found ! that we must leave to
fate.
Be it as it may, I never will return.
Thus safe beyond my hopes, 'tis fit I pay
My thanks to the kind gods who have preserved me.
[Ej:it.
CHORUS.
STROPHE I,
Since first this active world began, 291
Nature is busy all in every part ;
But, passing ail in wisdom and in art,
Superior shines inventive man :
Fearless of wintry winds, and circling waves, 295
He rides the ocean, and the tempest braves :
On him, unwearied Earth, with lavish hand,
Immortal goddess ! all her bounty pours ;
Patient beneath the rigid plough's command, 299
Year after year she yields her plenteous stores.
antistrophe I.
To drive the natives of the wood
From their rude haunts, or in the cruel snare
To catch the wing'd inhabitants of air,
Or trap the scaly brood ;
168
SOPHOCLES.
To tame the fiery courser, yet unbroke 30o
With the hard rein, or to the untried yoke
To bend the mountain bull, who, wildly free,
O'er the steep rocks had wander'd unconfined; —
These are the arts of mortal industry,
And such the subtle power of human kind. 310
STROPHE H.
By learning and fair science crown'd.
Behold him now full fraught with wisdom's lore,
The laws of nature anxious to explore,
With depth of thought profound :
But naught, alas ! can human wisdom see 315
In the dark bosom of futurity :
The power of Wisdom may awhile prevail.
Awhile suspend a mortal's fleeting breath ;
But never can her fruitless arts avail,
To conquer fate, or stop the hand of death. 320
ANTISTROPHE H.
Man's ever active, changeful will.
Sometimes to good shall bend his virtuous mind ;
Sometimes behold him to foul deeds inclined,
And prone to every ill.
Who guiltless keeps the laws, is still approved 325
By every tongue, and by his country loved ;
But he who doth not, from his native land
A wretched exile, far, O ! far from me.
May he be driven, by angry Heaven's command.
And live devote to shame and infamy ! 330
Cho. Amazement ! can it be Antigone,
Or do my eyes deceive me ? No, she comes.
O wretched daughter of a wretched father !
Hast thou transgress'd the laws, and art thou taken
In this adventurous deed, unhappy maid ? 335
Enter Antigone and Guard.
Guard. Behold the woman who hath done the deed ;
345
ANTIGONE. — ACT II. 169
In the very act of burial we surprised her.
Where is the king ?
Cho. Returned as we could wish ;
Ev'n now he comes this way.
Enter Creon.
^^E. Whom have we here?
Doth Justice smile upon us ?
Guard, o my lord ! 340
Never should man too confident assert^-_
Much less by oath should bind himself to aught ;
For soon our judgments change, and one opinion
Destroys another. By thy threats alarm'd,
But now I vow'd I never would return :
Yet, thus preserved beyond my hopes, I come,
Bound by that duty which I owe to thee
And to my country, to bring here this virgin.
Whom, as she sprinkled o'er her brother's dust
The varied wreath, we seized : the willing task 350
Was mine, nor as of late by lot determin'd.
Receive her, then, O king ! judge and condemn
The guilty, as it best becomes thy wisdom ;
Henceforth I stand acquitted.
Cre. But say, how,
Where didst thou find her P
Guard. To say all, 'twas she 355
Who buried Polynices,
Gre. Art thou sure P
Guard. These eyes beheld her.
Gre. But say, how discovered ?
Guard. Thus then it was : no sooner had I left thee,
Than, mindful of thy wrath, with careful hands
From off the putrid carcass we removed 360
The scattered dust ; then, to avoid the stench
Exhaling noisome, to a hill retired ;
170
SOPHOCLES.
ANTIGONE. — ACT II.
171
375
There watch'd at distance, till the mid-day sun
Scorch'd o*er our heads : sudden a storm arose.
Shook every leaf, and rattled through the grove, 365
Filling the troubled element. We closed
Our eyes, and patient bore the wrath of Heaven :
At length the tempest ceased ; when we beheld
This virgin issuing forth, and heard her cries
Distressful, like the plaintive bird, who views 370
The plunder'd nest, and mourns her ravish'd young :
Ev'n thus the maid, when on the naked corse
S'le cast her eyes, loud shriek'd, and cursed the hand
That did the impious deed ; then sprinkled o'er
The crumbled earth ; and from a brazen urn,
Of richest work, to the loved relics thrice
Her due libations pour'd : we saw, and straight
Pursued her; unappall'd she seem'd, and still,
As we did question her, confessed it all.
It pleased, and yet methought it grieved me too.
\ To find ourselves released from wo, is bliss
iSupreme ; but thus to see our friends unhappy,
AEmbitters all. I must be thankful still
For my own safety, which I hold most dear.
Cre. Speak thou, who bend'st to earth thy drooping
head : 385
Dost thou deny the fact ?
AxT. Deny it? no:
'Twas I.
Cre. [to the Guard.] Retire, for thou art free ; and
now, [tnrninff to Antigone.
Be brief, and tell me : heardst thou our decree ?
Ant. I did; 'twas public : how could I avoid it?
Cre. And darest thou, then, to disobey the law ? 390
Ant. I had it not from Jove, nor the just gods
Who rule below ; nor could I ever think
A mortal's law of power or strength sufficient
380
To abrogate the unwritten law divine,
Immutable, eternal, not like these 395
Of yesterday, but made ere time began.
Shall man persuade me, then, to violate
Heaven's great commands, and make the gods my foes ?
Without thy mandate, death had one day come ;
For who shall 'scape it ? and if now I fall 400
A little sooner, 'tis the thing I wish.
To those who live in misery, like me.
Believe me, king ! 'tis happiness to die.
Without remorse I shall embrace my fate ;
But to my brother had I left the rites 405
Of sepulture unpaid, I then indeed
Had been most wretched. This to thee may seem
Madness and folly ; if it be, 'tis fit
I should act thus ; it hut resembles thee.
Cre. Sprung from a sire perverse and obstinate, 410
Like him, she cannot bend beneath misfortune :
But know, the proudest hearts may be subdued.
Hast thou not mark'd the hardest steel by fire
Made soft and flexible ? Myself have seen
By a slight rein the fiery courser held. 415
*Tis not for slaves to be so haughty ; yet
This proud offender, not content, it seems.
To violate my laws, adds crime to crime ;
Smiles at my threats, and glories in her guilt.
If I should suffer her to 'scape my vengeance, 420
She were the man, not I : but though she sprang
Ev'n from my sister, were I bound to her
By ties more dear than is Hercaean Jove,
She should not 'scape : her sister too, I find
423 Jupiter Hercseus, so called from being the guardian of
every man s private habitation : m times of war and calamity
altars were erected to him, to which the unhappy fled as an
172
SOPHOCLES.
Accomplice in the* deed. Go, call her forth : 425
[/o one of the attendants.
She is within ; I saw her raving there,
Her senses lost ; the common fate of those
Who practise dark and deadly wickedness.
[turning to Antigone.
I cannot bear to see the guilty stand
Convicted of their crimes, and yet pretend 430
To gloss them o'er with specious names of virtue.
Ant. I am thy captive ; thou wouldst have my life :
Will that content thee ?
Cre. Yes, Uis all I wish.
Ant. Why this delay, then, when thou know*st my
words
To thee as hateful are as thine to me ? 435
Therefore despatch : I cannot live to do
A deed more glorious ; and so these would air
\jpointing to the Chorus*
Confess, were not their tongues restrained by fear.
It is the tyrant's privilege, we know.
To speak and act whate'er he please uncensured. 440
Cre. Lives there another in the land of Thebes,
Who thinks as thou dost ?
Ant. Yes, a thousand ; these,
These think so too, but dare not utter it.
Cre. Dost thou not blush P
Ant. For what P Why blush to pay
A sister's duty ?
Cre. But, Eteocles, 445
Say, was not he thy brother too ?
Ant. He was.
Cre. Why then thus reverence him who least de-
served it P
Ant. Perhaps that brother thinks not so.
Cre. He must,
r-.^
ANTIGONE.— ACT II.
173
\
If thou pay'st equal honor to them both.
Ant. He was a brother, not a slave,
. ^^^' One fought 450
Against that country which the other saved.
Ant. But equal death the rites of sepulture
Decrees to both.
^'^E. What ! reverence alike
The guilty and the innocent?
^^'^^ Perhaps \
The gods below esteem it just,
rr^^\. . . ^^°^' 455
Ihough dead, shoud as a foe be treated still.
Ant. My love shall go with thine, but not my hate.
Cre. Go, then, and love them inthe tomb ; but know.
No woman rules in Thebes whilst Creon lives.
Cho. Lo ! at the portal stands the fair Ismene ; 460
Tears in her lovely eyes, a cloud of grief
Sits on her brow, wetting her beauteous cheek
With pious sorrow for a sister's fate.
Enter Ismene. *
Cre. Come forth, thou serpent ! little did I think
That I had nourish'd two such deadly foes, 465
To suck my blood, and cast me from my throne.
What say'st thou? Wert thou accomplice in the
deed,
Or wilt thou swear that thou art innocent ?
IsM. I do ackowledge it, if she permit me,
I was accomplice, and the crime was mine. 470
^^ Ant. 'Tis false ; thou didst refuse, nor would I hold
Communion with thee.
'^**- But in thy misfortunes
Let me partake, my sister! let me be,
A fellow-suflferer with thee.
Ant. Witness Death
And ye infernal gods ! to which belongs ' 475
174
SOPHOCLES.
ANTIGONE. — ACT II.
175
ip.
The great, the glorious deed. I do not love
These friends in word alone.
Ism. Antigone!
Do not dispise me ; I but ask to die
With thee, and pay due honors to the dead.
Ant. Pretend not to a meiit which thou hast not.
Live thou ; it is enough for me to perish. 481
IsM. But what is life without thee ?
AxT. Ask thy friend
And pktron there. {^pointing to Creon.
Ism. Why that unkind reproach,
When thou shouldst rather comfort me ?
ANT. Alas!
It gives me pain, when I am forced to speak Ibo
So bitterly against thee.
Ism. Is there aught
That 1 can do to save thee ?
Ajjx, Save thyself;
I shall not envy thee.
Ism. And will you not
Permit me then to share your fate ?
Ant. Thy choice
Was life : 'tis mine to die.
Ism. I told thee oft 490
It would be so.
Ant. Thou didst, and was 't not well
Thus to fulfil thy prophecy ?
Ism. The crime
Was mutual, mutual be the punishment.
AxT. Fear not : thy life is safe ; but mine long since
Devoted to the dead.
Cre. Both seem deprived 495
Of reason ; one, indeed, was ever thus.
IsM. O king ! the mind doth seldom keep her seat,
When sunk beneath misfortunes.
Cre. Sunk indeed
Thou wert in wretchedness to join with her.
IsM. But what is life without Antigone ? 500
Cre. Then think not of it; for she is no more.
Ism. Would'st thou destroy thy son's long destined
wife?
Cre. O we shall find a fitter bride.
Ism. Alas '
He will not think so.
^ ^^^' I 'II not wed my son
To a base women.
Ant. o my dearest Haemon ! 505
And IS It thus thy father doth disgrace thee ?
Crk. Such an alliance were as hateful to me
As IS thyself.
Ism. Wilt thou then take her from him ?
Cre. Their nuptials shall be finished by death.
IsM. She then must perish P
rpP ^^* , So must you and I. 510
Therefore no more delay : go, take them hence ;
Confine them both : henceforth they shall not stir.
When death is near at hand, the bravest fly.
CHORUS.
strophe I.
Thrice happy they, whose days in pleasure flow :
Who never taste the bitter cup of wo : 515
For when the wrath of Heaven descends
On some devoted house, their foul disgrace,
With Grief and all her train, attends
And shame and sorrow o'erwhelm the wretched race •
Ev n as the Thracian sea, when vex'd with storms, 520
Whilst darkness hangs incumbent o'er the deep,
A ^"^ u^ v.^*'!^ ^^''^ ^^^ ^^°"^^^^ scene deforms
And the black sands in rapid whirlwinds sweep •
The groaning waves beat on the trembling shore,
jAnd echoing hills rebellow to the roar. 525
176
SOPHOCLES.
v/
530
535
540
ANTISTROPHE I.
O Labdacus ! thy house must perish all.
Ev*n now I see the stately ruin fall ;
Shame heapM on shame, and ill on ill,
Disgrace and never ending woes ;.
Some an-ry god pursues thee still,
Nor grants or safety or repose :
One fair and lovely branch unwither'd stood,
And braved the inclement skies ;
But Pluto comes, inexorable god !
She sinks, she raves, she dies.
STROPHE II.
Shall man below control the gods above,
Or human pride restrain the power of Jove?
Whose eyes by all-subduing sleep
Are never closed, as feeble mortals* are ;
But still their watchful vigils keep
Through the large circle of the eternal year.
Great lord of all, whom neither time nor age.
With envious stroke, can weaken or decay ;
He, who alone the future can presage.
Who knows alike to-morrow as to-day ;
Whilst wretched man is doom'd, by Heaven's
cree, .
To toil and pain, to sm and misery.
ANTISTROPHE II.
Ofttimes the flatterer Hope, that joy inspires.
Fill the proud heart of man with fond desires.
He, careless traveller I wanders still
Through life, unmindful of deceit ;
H Nor dreads the danger till he feel
f The burning sands beneath his feet.
When Heaven impels to guilt the maddening mind.
Then good like ill appears ;
And vice, for universal hate designed,
The face of virtue wears. [Exeunt.
I
\i
545
de-
550
ANTIGONE. — ACT III.
ACT III.
177
CREON, H/EMON, CHORUS.
Cho. Behold, O king ! thy youngest hope appear,
The noble Haemon ; lost in grief he seems,
Weeping the fate of poor Antigone. 560
Cre. He comes, and better than a prophet, soon
Shall we divine his inmost thoughts. My son,
Comest thou, well knowing our decree, to mourn
Thy promised bride, and angry to dispute
A father's will ; or, whatsoe'er we do, 565
Still to hold best, and pay obedience to us P
H;EM. My father, I am thine ; do thou command,
And I in all things shall obey : 'tis flt
My promised nuptial rites give place to thee.
Cre. It will become thee with obedience thus 570
To bear thee ever, and in every act
To yield submissive to a father's will.
'Tis therefore, O my son ! that men do pray
For children, who with kind officious duty
May guard their helpless age, resist their foes, 575
And, like their parents, love their parents' friend :
But he who gets a disobedient child,
What doth he get but misery and wo P
His enemies will laugh the wretch to scorn.
Take heed, my son ! thou yield not up thy reason, 580
In hopes of pleasure from a worthless woman ;
For cold is the embrace of impious love,
And deep the wounds of false, dissembled friendship.
Hate, then, thy bitterest foe, despise her arts,
And leave her to be wedded to the tomb. 585
Of all the city, her alone I found
Rebellious ; but I have her, nor shall Thebes
Say I 'm a liar ; I pronounced her fate,
SOPH. M
178
SOPHOCLES.
And she must perish : let her call on Jove,
Who guards the rites of kindred, and the ties 690
Of nature ; for if those by blood united
Transgress the laws, I hold myself more near
Ev'n to a stranger : who in private life
Is just and good, will to his country too
Be faithful ever ; but the man who, proud 595
And fierce of soui, contemns authority,
Despiseth justice, and o'er those who rule
Would have dominion, such shall never gain
The applauding voice of Creon. He alone.
Whom the consenting citizens approve, 600
The acknowleged sovereign, should in all command :
Just or unjust his laws, in things of great
Or little import; — whatsoe'er he bids
A subject is not to dispute Iiis will ;
He knows alike to rule and to obey ; 605
And in the day of battle will maintain
The foremost rank, his country's best defence.
Rebellion is the worst of human ills :
This ruins kingdoms, this destroys the peace
Of noblest families, this wages war, 610
And puts the brave to flight; whilst fair obedience
Keeps all in safety : to preserve it, ever ^
Should be a king's first care. We will not yield
To a weak woman : if we must submit,
At least we will be conquer'd by a man, 615
Nor by a female arm thus fall inglorious.
HiEM. Wisdom, my father, is the noblest gift
That gods bestow on man, and better far
Than all his treasures ; what thy judgment deems
Most fit, I cannot, would not reprehend. 620
Others, perhaps, might call it wrong ; forme,
My duty only bids me to inform you
If aught be done or said that casts reproach
ANTIGONE. — ACT III.
179
(
640
Or blame on >ou. Such terror would thy looks
Strike on the low plebeian, that he dare not 625
Say aught unpleasing to thee : be it mine
To tell thee, then, what I of laic have beard
In secret whisper'd. Your afflicted people
United mourn the unhappy virgin's fate
Unmerited most wretched of her sex, 630
ll!Lf\""^' f. '""'■ '^"""S«i*h'd virtue ;
For that she would not let a brother lie
Unburie5
Guides every action, is the first of men-
But since to few that happiness is given.
The next is he, who, not too proud to learn
646
180
SOPHOCLES.
ANTIGONE. — ACT III.
181
Follows the coansels of the wise and good:
Cho. O king ! if right the youth advise, His fit 660
That thou shouldst listen to him ; so to thee
Should he attend, as best may profit both.
Cre. And have we lived so long then, to be
taught
At last our duty by a boy like thee ?
HiEM. Young though I am, I still may judge aright ;
^ \ Wisdom in action lies, and not in years. 666
Cre. Call you it wisdom then to honor those
Who disobey the laws ?
H^M. I would not have thee
Protect the wicked.
Cre. Is she not most guilty ?
Rem. Thebes doth not think her so.
Cre. Shall Thebes prescribe 670
To Creon's will ?
H/EM. How weakly dost thou talk !
Cre. Am I king here, or shall another reign ?
\.H/EM. 'Tis not a city where but one man rules.
Cre. The city is the king's.
HiEM. Go by thyself then,
And rule henceforth o'er a deserted land. 675
Cre. [to the Chorus,] He pleads the woman's cause.
H/EM. If thou art she,
I do ; for, O ! I speak but for thy sake ;
My care is all for thee.
Cre. Abandoned wretch !
Dispute a father's will ?
BLem. I see thee err,
And therefore do it.
Cre. Is it then a crime 680
To guard my throne and rights from violation ?
HiEM. He cannot guard them who contemns the
gods,
And violates their laws.
Cre. O ! thou art worse,
More impious ev'n than she thou hast defended.
H^M. Naught have I done to merit this reproof. 685
Cre. Hast thou not pleaded for her?
HiEM. No ; for thee,
And for myself; for the infernal gods.
Cre, But know, she shall not live to be thy wife.
H.EM. Then she must die ; another too may fall.
Cre. Ha! dost thou threaten me? Audacious traitor!
H/EM. What are my threats ? Alas ! thou heed'st
them not. 691
Cre. That thou shalt see ; thy insolent instruction ,
Shall cost thee dear.
H^M. But, for thou art my father.
Now would I say thy senses were impair'd.
Cre. Think not to make rae thus thy scorn and
laughter, 695
Thou woman's slave !
HyEM. Still wouldst thou speak thyself,
And never listen to the voice of truth ;
Such is thy will.
Cre. Now, by Olympus here
1 swear, thy vile reproaches shall not pass
Unpunish'd : call her forth : before her bridegroom
\_to one of the attendants.
She shall be brought, and perish in his sight. 701
H^itf. These eyes shall never see it : let the slaves,
Who fear thy rage, submit to it; but know,
'Tis the last time thou shalt behold thy son.
\_Exit HEJ. They 're gone ;
Now speak in safety,
Mes. Lichas is dishonest ;
And, either now or when I saw him last,
Hath utter'd falsehood.
Dej. ,Ha ! What dost thou say ? 355
I understand thee not ; explain it quickly.
Mes. I heard him say, before attendant crowds,
It was this virgin, this fair slave, destroyed
(Echalia's lofty lowers ; 'twas love alone
That waged the war, no Lydian servitude, 360
Nor Omphale, nor the pretended fall
Of Iphitus, for so the tale he brings
Would fain persuade thee. Know, thy own Al-
cides.
For that he could not gain the assenting voice
Of Eurytus to his unlawful love, 365
Laid waste the city where her father reign'd,
And slew him : now the daughter, as a slave.
Is sent to thee ; the reason is too plain.
Nor think he meant her for a slave alone, —
The maid he loves ; that would be strange indefed. 370
My royal mistress ! most unwillingly
Do I report the unwelcome news, but thought
It was my duty: I have told the truth,
And the Trachinians bear me witness of it.
Dej. Wretch that I am ! to what am I reserved !
What hidden pestilence within my roof 376
Have I received unknowing ! Hapless woman !
She seem'd of beauteous form and noble birth :
Have you not heard her name ? for Lichas said
He knew it not.
Mes. Daughter of Eurytus, i 380
Her name lole ; he had not inquired
TRACHINI^. — ACT IK
217
Touching her race.
Cho. Perdition on the man.
Of all most wicked, who hath thus deceived thee !
Dej. What 's to be done, my friend? This dreadful
news
Afflicts me sorely.
Cho. Go, and learn the whole 385
From his own lips ; compel him to declare
The truth.
Dej. I will ; thou counsell'st me aright
Cho. Shall we attend you ?
Dej. No ; for see he comes
Uncall'd.
Enter Lichas, Attendant.
Li. O queen ! what are thy last commands
To thy Alcides ? for ev'n now I go 390
To meet him.
Dej. Hast thou taken so long a journey
To Trachis, and wouldst now so soon return.
Ere I can hold some farther converse with thee ?
Li. If thou wouldst question me of aught, behold me
Ready to tell thee.
Dej. Wilt thou tell me truth ? 395
Li. In all I know ; so bear me witness, Jove !
Dej. Who is that woman thou hast brought ?
Li. I l»ear
She 's of Euboea : for her race and name,
I know them not.
Dej. Look on me : who am I ?
Li. Why ask me this ?
Dej. Be bold, answer me. 400
Li. Daughter of (Eneus, wife of Hercules ;
If I am not deceived, 'tis Dejanira,
My queen, my mistress.
Dej. Am I so indeed ?
218
SOPHOCLES.
Am I thy mistress ?
Li. Doubtless.
Dej. Why, 'tis well
Thou dost confess it : then what punishment 405
Wouldst thou deserve, if thou wert faithless to her?
Li. How faithless ? Meanest thou to betray me P
Dej. No :
The fraud is thine.
Li. 'Twas folly thus to stay
And hear thee : I must hence.
Dej. Thou shalt not go
Till I have ask'd thee one short question.
Li. Ask it, 410
For so it seems thou art resolved.
Dej. Inform me ;
This captive, — dost thou know her?
Li. I have told thee
What wouldst thou more ?
Dej. Didst thou not say, this slave,
Though now, it seems, thou know'st her not, was
daughter
Of Eurytus, her name lole?
Li. Where ? 415
To whom did I say this ? What witness have you ?
Dej. Assembled multitudes : the citizens
Of Trachis heard thee.
Li. They might say they heard
Reports like these ; but must it therefore seem
A truth undoubted ?
Dej. Seem ? Didst thou not swear 420
That thon hadst brought this woman to partake
The bed of my Alcides ?
Li. Did I say so?
But tell mc who this stranger is.
Pej. The nan
TRACHlNliE.— ACT II.
219
440
Who heard thee say, Alcides' love for her,
And not the Lydian, laid the city waste. 425
Li. Let him come forth, and prove it : 'tis no mark
Of wisdom thus to trifle with the unhappy.
Dej. O ! do not, I beseech thee, by that Power,
Whose thunders roll o'er CEta's lofty grove.
Do not conceal the truth. Thou speak'st to one 430
Not unexperienced in the ways of men ;
To one, who knows we cannot always joy
In the same object : 'tis an idle task
To take up arms against all-powerful love.
Love, which commands the gods, love conquer'd me,
And wherefore should it not subdue another, 436
Whose nature and whose passions are the same ?
If my Alcides is indeed oppress'd
With this sad malady, I blame him not ;
That were a folly : nor this hapless maid,
Who meant no ill, no injury to me.
Tis not for this I speak ; but, mark me well :
If thou wert taught by him to utter falsehood,
A vile and shameful lesson didst thou learn ;
And if thou art thy own instructor, know,
Thou shalt seem wicked ev'n when most sincere.
And never be believed : speak then the truth ;
For to be branded with the name of liar,
Is ignominy fit for slaves alone.
And not for thee. Nor think thou canst conceal it ;
Those who have heard the tale will tell it me. 451
If fear deters thee, thou hast little cause ;
For to suspect his falsehood, is my grief ;
To know it, none : already have I seen
Alcides' heart estranged to other loves.
Yet did no rival ever hear from me
One bitter word, nor will I now reproach
This wretched slave, ev'n though she pines for him
445
455
220
SOPHOCLES.
With strongest love. Alas ! I pity her.
Whose beauty thus hath been the fatal cause 460
Of all her misery ; laid her country waste.
And brought her here, far from her native land,
A helpless captive : but no more of this ;
Only remember, if thou must be false,
Be false to others, but be true to me. 465
Cho. She speaks most kindly to thee; be per-
suaded ;
Hereafter thou shalt find her not ungrateful.
We too will thank thee.
Li. O, my dearest mistress !
Not unexperienced thou in human life,
Nor ignorant ; and therefore naught from thee 470
Will I conceal, but tell thee all the truth.
'Tis as he said ; and Hercules, indeed,
Doth love lole : for her sake alone,
CEchalia, her unhappy country, fell ;
This (for 'tis fit I tell thee) he confess'd, 475
Nor wiird me to conceal it ; but I fear'd
'Twould pierce thy heart to hear the unwelcome
tale,
And therefore own, I would have kept it from thee.
That crime, if such it was, I have committed :
But since thou know'st it all, let me entreat thee, 480
For her sake, and thy own, O ! do not hate
This wretched captive ; but remember well,
What thou hast promised, faithfully perform.
He, whose victorious arm hath conquer'd all.
Now yields to her, and is a slave to love. 485
Dej. 'Tis my resolve to act as thou advisest.
I '11 not resist the gods, nor add fresh weight
To my calamity : let us go in.
That thou mayst bear my orders to Alcides,
And, with them, gifts, in kind return for those 490
TRACHIMiE. — ACT II.
221
We have received from him. Thou must not hence
With empty hand, who hither brought'st to me
Such noble presents, and so fair a train, [Exeunt,
CHORUS.
STROPHE I.
Thee, Venus ! gods and men obey,
And universal is thy sway, 495
Need I recount the powers subdued by love ? ^
Neptune, who shakes the solid ground ;
The king of Erebus profound ;
Or the great lord of all, Saturnian Jove ?
To mortals lei the song descend, 500
To pity our afilicted friend,
And soothe the injured Dejanira's woes :
For her the angry rivals came
For her they felt an equal flame,
For her, behold I the doubtful battle glows. 505
ANTISTROPHE.
In dreadful majesty array'd,
Afi"righting sore the fearful maid.
Up rose the horned monarch of the flood;
He, who through fair ^Etolia's plain
Pours his rich tribute to the main ; 510
A buITs tremendous form belied the god.
From his own Thebes, to win her love,
With him the happier son of Jove,
The great Alcides, came, and in his hand
The club, the bow, and glittering spear; 515
Whilst Venus, to her votaries near,
Waved o'er their heads her all-diciding wand.
E PODE.
Warm, and more warm the conflict grows :
Dire was the noise of rattling bows.
Of front to front opposed, and hand to hand : 520
222
SOPHOCLES.
Deep was the animated strife
For love» for conquest, and for life ;
Alternate groans re-echoed through the land: 525
Whilst pensive, on the distant shore,
She heard the doubtful battle roar,
Many a sad tear the hapless virgin shed;
Far from her tender mother's arms,
She knows not yet for whom her charms
She keeps, or who shall share her bridal bed. [Exeunt.
ACT III.
DEJANIRA, CHORUS.
Dej. My guest, in pity to the captive train, 630
Laments their woes, and takes his kind farewell:
Meantime, my friends, in secret came I here
To pour forth all my miseries, and impart
To you my inmost thoughts, my last resolve.
Alas ! within these walls I have received, 235
Like the poor sailor, an unhappy freight
To sink me down, no virgin, but a wife.
The wife of my Alcides ; his loved arm
Now must embrace us both : my faithful lord
(Faithful and good I thought him) thus rewards 540
My tender cares, and all the tedious toils
I suffer'd for him ; but I will be calm ;
For 'tis an evil I have felt before.
And yet to live with her ! with her to share
My husband's bed ! what woman could support it ?*545
Her youth is stealing onward to its prime,
Whilst mine is wither'd ; and the eye, which longs
To pluck the opening flower, from the dry leaf
Will turn aside, her younger charms : I fear.
Have conquered, and benceforth, in naiqe alone 550'
TRACHlNIiE— ACT HI.
223
Shall Dejanira be Alcides' wife.
Bat ill do rage and violence become
The prudent matron ; therefore, mark me well,
And hear>hat I have purposed, to relieve
My troubled heart. Within a brazen urn,
Conceal'd from every eye, I long have kept
That ancient gift which Nessus did bequeathe me.
The hoary centaur, who was wont for hire
To bear the traveller o'er the rapid flood
Of deep Evenus : not with oars or sail
He stemm'd the torrent, but with nervous arm
Opposed, and pass'd it : me, when, first a bride,
I left my father's hospitable roof
With my Alcides, in his arras he bore
Athwart the current ; halfway o'er, he dared
To ofi'er violence : I shriek'd aloud ;
When, lo ! the son of Jove, his bow swift bent,
Sent forth a shaft, and pierced the monster's breast.
Who with his dying voice did thus address me : —
' Daughter of CEneus, listen to my words.
So Shalt thou profit by the last sad journey
Which I shall ever go : if in thy hand
Thou take the drops out-flowing from the wound
This arrow made, dipp'd in the envenom'd blood
Of the Lernaean hydra, with that charm
Mayst thou subdue the heart of thy Alcides,
Nor shall another ever gain his love.'
Mindful of this my friends, (for from that hour
In secret have I kept the precious gift)
Behold a garment dipped in the very blood
He gave me ; nor did I forget to add
What he enjoin'd, but have prepared it all.
I know no evil arts, nor would I learn them ;
For they who practise such are hateful to me :
I only wish the charm may be of power
555
560
565
570
575
580
585
224
SOPHOCLES.
To win Alcides from this virgin's love,
And bring hira back to Dejanira's arms,
If ye shall deem it lawful ; bat if not,
I '11 go no farther.
Cho. Could we be assured
Such indeed is the effect, 'tis well determined. 690
Dej. I cannot but believe it; though, as yet,
Experience never hath confirm'd it to me.
Cho. Thou shouldst be certain; thou but seem'st to
know,
If thou hast never tried.
Dej. I 'II try it soon ;
For see, ev'n now he comes out at the portal. 595
Let him not know our purpose ; if the deed
Be wrong, concealment may prevent reproach :
Therefore be silent.
Enter LicHAS.
Li. Speak thy last commands.
Daughter of OEneus, for already long
Have we delay'd our journey.
Dej. Know, then, Lichas, 600
That whilst thou communest with thy friends, myself
Have hither brought a garment which I wove
For my Alcides ; thou must bear it to him :
Tell him, no mortal must with touch profane
Pollute the sacred gift, nor sun behold it, 605
Nor holy temple, nor domestic hearth,
Ere at the altar of paternal Jove
Himself shall wear it; 'twas my solemn vow,
Whene'er he should return, that, clothed in this,
He to the gods should offer sacrifice: 610
Bear too, this token : he will know it well.
611 This token was a seal-ring, which Dejanira sent with
the vest, to coavince Hercules that it came from her.
TKACHINI*. — ACT III.
225
Away ! remember to perform thy office,
But go no farther ; so shall double praise,
And favor from us both, reward thy duty.
Li. If 1 have aught of skill, by Hermes right 615
Instructed in his art, I will not fail
To bear thy gift, and faithful to report
What thou hast said.
Dej. Begone ; what here hath pass'd
Thou know'st.
Li. I do ; and shall bear back the news
That all is well,
Dej. Thou art thyself a witness 620
How kindly I received the guest he sent me.
Li. It fill'd my heart with pleasure to behold it.
Dej. What canst thou tell him more ? Alas ! I fear
He 'II know too well the love I bear to him :
Would 1 could be as certain he 'd return it ! [Exeunt.
CHORUS.
STROPHE I.
You, who on CEta's craggy summit dwell; 626
Or from the rock, whence gushing rivulets flow,
Bathe in the warmer springs below ;
You, who, near the Melian bay,
To golden -shafted Dian hymn the lay, 630
Now haste to string the lyre, and tune the vocal shell.
ANTISTROPHE I.
No mournful theme demands your pensive strain ;
But such as, kindled by the sacred fire.
The Muses might themselves admire,
615 Hermes or Mercury always appears as messenger of
the gods : he therefore naturally presided over mortal mes-
sengers, and is properly mentioned by the herald as his patron
and instructor.
62U The bay of Melis was not far from Trachis, and adjoin-
ing to Artemisium : near it was a temple sacred to Diana.
SOPH. . P
226
SOPHOCLES.
TRACHINI/E. — ACT IV.
227
G35
A loud and cheerful song ; for see,
The son of Jove returns with victory.
And richest spoils reward a life of toil and pain.
STROPHE n.
Far from his native land he took his way :
For twelve long moons, uncertain of his fate,
Did we lament his exiled state, o^"
What time his anxious wife deplored,
With never-ceasing tears, her absent lord ;
But Mars at last hath closed his long, laborious day.
ANTISTROPHE H.
Let him from fair Euboea's isle appear ;
Let winds and raging seas oppose no more, t>4D
But waft him to the wish'd-for shore.
The anointed vest's persuasive charms
Shall bring him soon to Dejanira's arms
Soon shall we see the great, the loved Alcides here.
ACT IV.
DEJANIRA, CHORUS.
Dej. Alas, my friends ! I fear I 've gone too far. 650
Cho. Great queen ! in what ? , , .
j)gj I know not what ; but dread
Something to come, lest, where I had most hope
Of happiness, I meet with bitterest wo.
Cho. Meanest thou thy gift to Hercules ?
Dej. ^ *^^ '
Nor would I henceforth counsel those I loved 665
To do a dark and desperate deed like this.
Uncertain of the event.
(^jjQ How was it? Speak,
If thou canst tell us.
Dej. O ! 'twas wonderful ;
For you shall hear it : know, then, the white wool
Wherein I wrapp'd the anointed vest, untouched 660
By any hand, dropp'd self-consumed away.
And down the stone, e'en like a liquid, flow'd
Dissolving : but 'tis fit I tell you all.
Whate'er the wounded centaur did enjoin me.
Mindful to practise, sacred as the laws 665
On brazen tablets graved, I have performed.
Far from the fire, and from the sun's warm beams.
He bade me keep the charm from every eye
In secret bid, till time should call on me
To anoint and use it; this was done; and now, 670
The fleece in secret pluck'd, the charm prepared.
Long from the sun within a chest conceal'd.
At length I brought it forth, and sent the gift
To my Alcides ; when, behold ! a wonder,
Most strange for tongue to tell, or heart of man 675
Ev'n to conceive ! Perchance the wool I cast
Into the sunshine : soon as it grew warm,
It fell to dust, consuming all away
In most stranjfs manner ; then from the earth up rose
In frothy bubbles, ev'n as from the grape, 680
In yellow autumn, flows the purple wine.
I know not what to think ; but much I fear
I 've done a horrid deed : for, why, my friends !
Why should the dying savage wish to serve
His murderer? That could never be : O no ; 686
He only meant by flattery to destroy
Me, his destroyer : truth is come too late,
And I alone have slain my dear Alcides,
I know that by his arrows Chiron fell ;
I know, whate'er they touch'd, they still were fatal ;
689 Chiron was one of the centaurs, and was wounded by
Hercules with one of his arrows dipped in the blood of the
hydra.
I
92d
SOPHOCLES.
TRACHINI.^. — ACT IV.
229
6d5
That very poison mingled with the blood 691
Of dying Nessus ; will not that too kill
My Hercules P It must : but if he dies,
My resolution is to perish with him.
Those, who their honor and their virtue prize,
Can never live with infamy and shame.
Cho. 'Tis fit we tremble at a deed of horror ;
Bat His not fitting, ere we know the event,
To give up hope, and yield us to despair.
Dej. There is no hope where evil counsel's taken.
Cho. But when we err from ignorance alone, 701
Small is the crime, and slight the punishment:
Such is thy fault.
Dej. The guiltless may talk thus,
Who know no ill ; not those, who are unhappy.
Cho. No more, unless thou mean'st thy son should
hear thee, 705
Who now returns in search of thy Alcides.
Behold him here.
Enter Hyllus.
Hyl. O ! would that thou wert dead !
Would I were not thy son ! or, being so,
Would I could change thy wicked heart !
Dej. Wy so«^ •
What means this passion ?
Hyl. Thou hast slain thy husband ;
This very day my father hast thou slain. 711
Dej. Alas ! my child, what say'st thou ?
Hyl. What is past,
And therefore must be : who can e'er undo
The deed that 's done?
Dej. But who could say I did it ?
Hyl. I saw it with these eyes ; I heard it all 715
From his own lips.
Dej, Where didst thou see him thenT
720
725
730
Tell me, O ! quickly tell me.
Hyl. If I must.
Observe me well : when Hercules, return'd
From conquest, had laid waste the noble city
Of Eurytus, with fair triumphal spoils
He to Euboea came, where, o'er the sea.
Which beats on every side, Cenaeum's top
Hangs dreadful : tiiither (to paternal Jove)
His new-raised altars in the leafy wood
He came to visit ; there did my glad eyes
Behold Alcides first. As he prepared
The frequent victim, from the palace came
Lichas thy messenger, and with him brought
The fatal gift : wrapp'd in the deadly garment,
(For such was thy command) twelve oxen then,
Without a blemish, firstlings of the spoil,
He slew ; together next a hundred fell.
The mingled fiock: pleased with his gaudy vest,
And happy in it, he awhile remain'd,
Oflfering with joy his grateful sacrifice :
But, lo ! when from the holy victim rose
The bloody flame, and from the pitchy wood
Exhaled its moisture, sudden a cold sweat
Bedew'd his limbs, and to his body stuck
(As by the hand of some artificer
Close join'd to every part) the fatal vest.
Convulsion rack'd his bones, and through his veins.
Like the fell serpent's deadly venom, raged.
Then question'd he the wretched, guiltless Lichas,
By what detested arts he had procured
The poison'd garb : he, ignorant of all.
Could only say it was the gift he brought
From Dejanira : when Alcides heard it.
Tortured with pain, he took him by the foot,
And hurl'd him headlong on a pointed rock
735
t
740
745
750
230
SOPHOCLES.
That o'er the ocean hung: - his brains, dash'd forth,
With mingled blood flow'd through his clotted hair
In horrid streams. The multitude, with shrieks,
Lamented loud the fury of Alcides,
And Lichas* hapless fate ; none durst oppose 755
His raging frensy : prostrate on the earth
Now would he lie and groan ; and now, uprising,
Would bellow forth his griefs. The mountain tops
Of Locris, and Euboea's rocks, return'd
His dreadful cries: then, on the ground outstretched.
In bitterest wrath he cursed the nuptial bed 761
Of CEneus, and his execrations pour'd
On thee, his worst of foes : at length, his eyes.
Distorted forth from the surrounding smoke,
He cast on me, who midst attending crowds 765
Wept his sad fate. * Approach,' he cried, 'my son!
Do not forsake thy father ; rather come.
And share his fate, than leave me here.' O ! haste,
And take me hence ; bear me w here never eye
Of mortal shall behold me. O, my child ! 770
Let me not perish here.' Thus spake my father,
And I obey'd : distracted with his pains,
A vessel brings him to this place, and soon
Living or dead you will behold him here.
This have thy horrid machinations done
For thy Alcides. O ! may Justice doom thee
To righteous punishment, if it be lawful
For me to call down vengeance on a mother,
As sure it is, on one who hath disclaimed
All piety like thee. The earth sustains not
A better man than he w hom thou hast murder'd,
Nor shalt thou e'er behold his like again.
[jBvTiY Dejanira.
Cho. Whence this abrupt departure ? Know'st
thou not,
775
780
TRACHINI^.— ACT IV.
231
795
To o-o in silence thus confirms thy guilt ?
Hyl. Let her be gone: and may some prosperous
gale
Waft her far off, that these abhorring eyes
May never see her more ! W hat boots the name
Of mother, when no longer she performs
A mother's duty ? Let her go in peace ;
And, for her kindne:^s to my father, soon 7JU
May she enjoy the blessings she bestow d !
CHORUS.
STUOPHE I.
True was the oracle divine.
Long since deliver'd from Dodona's shrine.
Which said, Alcides' woes should last
Till twelve revolving years were past ;
Then should his labors end in sweet repose.
Behold, mv friends ! 'tis come to pass ;
'Tis all fulfiird ; for who, alas !
In peaceful death, or toil or slavery knows?
ANTISTROPHE I.
If deep within his tortured veins
The centaur's cruel poison reigns.
That from the 'jvdra's baleful breath
Destructive flow'd, replete with death,
On him another sun shall never rise :
The venom runs through every part,
And, lo ! to Nessus' direful art
Alcides falls a helpless sacrifice.
STROPHE II.
Poor Dejanira long deplored
Her waning charms, and ever-faithless lord :
At length, by evil counsel sway'd,
Her passion»s dictates she obey d.
Resolved Alcides' doubtful truth to prove ;
800
805
810
932
SOPHOCLES.
But now, alas ! laments his fate
In ceaseless woe, and finds too late
A dying husband, and a foreign love. 815
ANTISTIiOPHE II.
Another death must soon succeed,
Another victim soon shall bleed :
Fatal, Alcides ! was the dart
That pierced the rival monarch's heart.
And brought lole from her native land. 820
From Venus did our sorrows flow,
The secret spring of all our wo ;
For naught was done but by her diead command.
[Exeunt.
ACT V.
[-4 noise within the palace.
CHORUS.
Or I *m deceived, or did I hear loud shrieks
Within the palace : 'twas the voice of one 825
In anguish. Doubtless, some calamity
Hath fallen upon us now : what can it be ?
But see, yon matron, with contracted brow
And unaccustom'd sadness, comes to tell
The dreadful news.
Enter Nurse.
Nurse. What woes, my hapless daughters,
Alcides* fatal gift hath brought upon us ! 831
Cho. What dost thou tell us ?
Nurse. Dejanira treads
The last sad path of mortals.
Cho. Is she gone ?
Nurse. *Tis so, indeed.
Cho. What! dead?
Nurse. Again I say,
816 The Chorus here foretels the death of Dejanira.
TRACHINI^.— ACT V.
233
She is no more.
Cho Alas ! how did she perish ? 835
Nurse. Most fearfully : 'twas dreadful to behold.
Cho. How fell she then ?
Nurse. I^y her own hand.
^^j^ But wherefore ?
What madness, what disorder? What could move
her
To perpetrate so terrible a deed.
Thus adding death to death ? »*"
Nurse. 'A'»>e fatal steel
Destroy'd her.
Clio. Didst thou see it ?
Nurse. I v^ as by.
Close by her side. .
Cho How was it?
Nurse. Her own arm
Struck the sad blow.
Cho. Indeed?
Nurse. Most veritably.
Cho. In evil hour this rival virgin came
To bring destruction here.
^uj^sj,^ And so she did : 845
Hadst thou, like me, been v^itness to the deed.
Thou wouldst much more have pitied her.
Cho. . ^^^« •
How could a woman do it?
j^uj^se 'Twas most dreadful,
As thou Shalt hear, for I will tell thee all.
Soon as she enter'd at the palace gate, 850
And saw her son prepare the funeral bed,
To the inmost chamber silent she retired
From every eye; there, at the altar's feet
Failing, lamented loud her widow'd state ;
And ever as she lit on aught her hands 855
Had used in happier days, the tears would ^iow.
234
SOPHOCLES.
860
865
870
From room to room she wander'd ; and, if chance
A loved domestic cross'd her, she would weep
And mourn her fate, for ever now deprived
Of converse sweet, and hymeneal joys :
Then would she strew lier garment on the bed
Of her Alcides ; for conceal'd I watch'd
Her every motion ; throw herself upon it;
And, as the tears in a warm flood burst forth,
* Farewell !' she cried, ' for ever farewell now
My nuptial couch ! for never shalt thou more
Receive this wretched burden/ Thus she spake,
And with quick hand the golden button loosed;
Then cast her robe aside, her bosom bared.
And seem'd prepared to strike. I ran, and told
The dreadful purpose to her son ; too late
We came, and saw her wounded to the heart.
The pious son beheld his bleeding mother.
And wept; for well he knew, by anger fired,
And the fell centaur's cruel fraud betray'd,
Unweeting she had done the dreadful deed.
Close to her side he laid him down, and join'd
His lips to hers, lamenting sore that thus
He had accused her guiltless ; then deplored
His own sad fate, thus suddenly bereaved
Of both his parents : you have heard my tale.
Who to himself shall promise length of life?
None but the fool : For, O! to-day alone
Is ours ; we are not certain of to-morrow.
Cho. Which shall I weep? Which most our hearts
should fill 885
With grief, the present or the future ill,
The dying or the dead ? 'Tis equal wo.
To fear the stroke, or fear the impending blow.
STROPHE.
O ! for a breeze to waft us o*er
Propitious to some distant shore ! 890
875
880
TRACHINl^. — ACT V.
235
895
900
To shield our souls from sore affright,
And save us from the dreadful sight !
That sight the hardest heart would move,—
In his last pangs the son of Jove ;
To see the poison run through every vein.
And limbs convulsed with agonising pain.
ANTISTROPHE.
Behold the attendant train is nigh ;
I hear the voice of misery.
Ev'n as the plaintive nightingale.
That warbles sweet her mournful tale :
Silent and slow they lead him on.
Hark ! I hear Alcides groan !
Again 'tis silence all ! This way they tread :
Or sleeps he now, or rests be with the dead ?
Enter Hkrcules, Hyllus, Attendants.
HvL. Alas, my father! whither shall I go? 905
Wretch that I am ! O, where shall I betake me?
What will become of thy afflicted son?
Att. Speak softly, youth ! do not awake his pains ;
Refrain thy grief, for yet Alcides lives,
Though verging to the tomb : be calm. 910
jjyl. What say'st thou?
Doth he yet live ?
j^jj^ He doth ; disturb not thus
His slumbers, nor provoke the dire disease.
Hyl. Alas! I cannot bear to see him thus.
iHercules awakes.
Her. O Jove ! where am I, and with whom ? What
land
Contains the wretched Hercules, oppress'd
With never-ending woes? Ah me ! again
The deadly poison racks me.
Att. [to Hyllus.] Seest thou not,
915
236
SOPHOCLES.
TRACHINI^— ACT V,
237
^Twere better far to have remain'd in silence,
And not awaked liim ?
Hyl. 'Twas impossible
Unmoved to look on such calamity ; 920
I could not do it.
Her. O Cenaean rocks.
Where smoke the sacred altars ! Is it thus,
O Jove ! thou dost reward my piety ?
W hat dreadful punishment is this thy hand
Halh laid on me, who never could deserve 925
Such bitter wrath? What incantations now,
What power of medicine, can assuage my pain,
Unless great Jove assisted ? Health to me
Without him, were a miracle indeed.
Let me, O ! let me rest ; refuse me not 930
A little slumber : why will ye torment me?
Why bend me forward ? O ! 'tis worse than death.
Had you not waked me, I had been at peace.
Again it rages with redoubled force.
Where are you now, ye thankless Grecians? where.
Whom I have toil'd to serve on the rough main, 936
And through the pathless wood ? Where are ye now
To help a dying wretch ? Will no kind hand
Stretch forth the friendly sword, or in the flame
Consume me ? None, alas ! will cut me off 940
From hated life.
Att. O youth ! assist thy father ;
It is beyond my strength : thy quicker sight
May be more useful.
Hyl. My poor aid is ready ;
But wheresoe'er I am, 'tis not in me
To expel the subtile poison that destroys him ; 945
Such is the will of Jove.
Her. My son ! my son !
Where art thou ? Bear me up ; assist me j O !
960
Again it comes, the unconquerable ill,
The dire disease. O Pallas ! aid me now ;
Draw forth thy sword, my son! strike, strike thy fa-
ther, ^ ^^^
And heal the wound thy impious mother made.
! could I sec her like njyself destroyed,
1 should be happy. Brother of great Jove !
Sweet Pluto ! hear me. O ! with speedy death
Lay me to rest, and bury all my woes. 955
Cho. The anguish of the unhappy mac, my friends !
Ig terrible : I tremble but to hear him.
Her. What^ath this body sufferM;! O, the toils,
The labors I endured, the pangs I felt,
Unutterable woes '.but never aught
So dreadful as this sore calamity
Oppress'd Alcides : not the wife of Jove,
Nor vile Eurystheus could torment me thus,
As, a:neus ! thy deceitful daughter hath.
O ! I am tangled in a cruel net
Woven by the Furies ; it devours my flesh.
Dries up my veins, and drinks the vital blood.
My body 's wither'd, and I cannot break
The indissoluble chain : nor hostile spear,
Nor earth-born giants, nor the savage herd,
The wild barbarian, or the Grecian host,
Not all the nations I have journey'd o*er,
Could do a deed like this : at last I fall,
Like a poor coward, by a w Oman's hand,
Unarm'd and unassisted. O my son !
Now prove thyself the offspring of Alcides,
Nor let thy reverence of a mother's name
Surpass thy duty to an injured father.
Go, bring her hither, give her to my wrath,"
That I may see whom thou wilt most lament.
When thou behold'st my vengeance fall on her.
965
970
980
238
SOPHOCLES.
085
990
f>05
Fear not, my son ! but go ; have pity on me,
Pity thy father : all must pity me,
Whilst they behold, ev'n as the tender maid,
Alcides weep, who never wept before.
I bore ray sorrows all without a groan ;
But now thou seest I am a very woman.
Come near, my child ! O ! think what I endure,
For I will show thee : look on this poor body ;
Let all behold it. What a sight is here !
O me 1 again the cruel poison tears
My entrails, nor aflbrds a moment's case.
O ! take me, Pluto ! to thy gloomy reign ;
Father of lightning ! mighty Jove I send down
Thy bolt, and strike me now ! Again it racks,
It tortures me. O hands, that once had strength !
And you, my sinewy arms I was it by you
The terrible Nemaean lion fell,
The dreadful hydra, and the lawless race
Of centaurs ! Did this wither'd hand subdue
The Erymanthian boar, wide-wasting plague !
And from the shades of Orcus drag lo light
The triple-headed monster ? By this arm
Did the fierce guardian of the golden fruit
In Libya's deserts fall ? Unnumber'd toils
Have I endured of old, and never yet
Did mortal bear a trophy from Alcides :
But nerveless now this arm : see, from the bone
Darts the loose flesh : I waste beneath the power
Of this dark pestilence. O Hercules ! 1010
Why boast thy mother sprung of noblest race,
And vainly call thyself the son of Jove ?
998 Nemsea was a wood near Argia in Peloponnesus, where
Hercules slew a lion of prodigious size aud fierceness.
1001 Erymanthus was a mountain of Arcadia, where iier-
cules slew a wild boar that infested that country.
1000
1006
TRACHINIiE.--ACT V.
239
But mark me well; this creeping shadow still,
Poor as it is, shall yet revenge itself
On her who did the execrable deed. 101&
Would she were hereto feel. my wrath; to know
And teach mankind that.Hercules, though dead,
As whilst he lived, can scourge the guilty still !
Cho. Unhappy Greece ! how wilt thou mourn the
loss
Ofsuchaman!
Hyl. Permit me but to speak, lOiU
Distemper'd as thou art, my father I hear me :
Naught shall I ask unfit for thee to grant.
Be calm, and listen to me ; yet thou know'st not
How groundless thy complaints, and what new joy
Awaits thee still.
Her. Be brief then, and inform me : 1025
My pains afllict me so, I cannot guess
Thy subtile purpose.
Hyl. 'Twas to speak of her.
My mother; 'twas to tell thee of her state.
And how unweeting she ofTended thee.
Her Thou worst of children ! wouldst thou then
AC A 1030
defend
The murder of thy father? darest thou thus
Recall the sad remembrance of her crime ?
Hyl. It must not be conceal'd : I know too
well,
I can no longer hide it.
Heji, What? Her guilt?
'Tis known already.
Hyl Thou 'It not always think so. lOoo
Her! Speak then, but take good heed thou show
thyself
Worthy tby father. , - ^ a
jjyl. Know then, she is dead.
240
SOPHOCLES.
Her. O, dreadful ! murder'd ? By what hand ?
TT^j^ Her own.
Her. Would she had fallen by mine !
uyl ^'^^' ™y ^^^^^"^ '
Didst thou know all, thy anger would be changed 1040
To pity for her. .
Her. That were strange indeed :
Why dost thou think so ? , „
Uyl. She did mean thee well,
But err'd unknowing.
£jER. Meant she well to slay
Thy father ?
Hyl. Thy new marriage was the cause :
She had prepared a philtre for thy love, 1045
And knew not 'twas a poison.
Her. »"* ^^y' ^^^
So skill'd in magic arts at Trachis here
Could give her this ?
jjyl. The savage centaur Neasus,
Who did persuade her 'twould restore thy love
Given to another wife.
jjer. Undone Alcides I
I die, my child ! there is no life for me.
Alas ! I see it now : I see my woes :
Hyllus, away ; thy father is no more :
Be-one, and call thy brothers ; call Alcmena.
The wife, alas ! in vain, the wife of Jove :
Go bring them here, that with my latest breath
I may declare my fate, long since foretold
By oracles divine.
jjyl. Alcmena 's gone
To Tirynth ; with many of thy sons
Remain : some dwell at Thebes ; the rest are here,
1059 Tirynth or Tirynthia was a city in the neighborhood
of Argos.
1050
1055
TRACIlIMiE. — ACT V.
241
And wait with me to hear and to obey thee. 1061
Her. Then listen to me, for the time is come
When thou must prove thyself indeed my son.
Know, Jove, my heavenly sire, long since foretold
I was not born to perish by the hand 1065
Of living man, but from some habitant
Of Pluto's dark abode should meet my fate.
The centaur Nessus, (so was it fulfill'd,)
Though dead, destroy'd me : but I 'Jl tell thee more :
New oracles confirm'd the old : for know, 1070
When to the Selli's sacred grove I came,
(The wandering priests, who o'er the mountains roam.
And rest their wearied limbs on the cold ground)
An ancient oak prophetic did declare,
That if I lived to this decisive hour, 1075
Here all my labors, all my toils should end.
I thought it told me I should live in peace ;
Alas ! it only meant that I must die ;
For death will put an end to every care.
Since thus it is, my son, thou too must join 1080
To ease Alcides : let me not reproach thee ;
But yield thy willing aid, nor e'er forget
The best of laws, obedience to a father.
Hyl. Thy words affright me ; but declare thy pur-
pose :
Behold me ready to perform thy orders, 1085
Whate'er they be.
Her. First give me then thy hand.
Hyl. But why this pledge, and wherefore anxious
thus
Dost thou require it?
Her. Wilt thou give it me,
Or dost refuse?
Hyl. There, take it ; I obey. 1090
Her. First swear then by the head of Jove, my sire.
SOPH. Q
242
SOPHOCLES.
1100
HvL. I will ; but whay^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^ ^.,^ ^^^^^^^
All I CDJoin thee. ,
Hyl. Bear me witness, Jove !
T SWCeLF
Her.' And imprecate the wrath divine,
If thou'perform'st it not.
jjyl I shall not fail ;
But, if I do, may vengeance swift overtake me ! 1095
Her. Th^u know'st the top of (Eta's sacred hill ?
Hyl. I know it well, and many a sacntice
Have offer'd there. , . j i «
H^R That is the destined place.
Where thou, assisted by thy chosen friends.
My son ! must bear the body of Alcides ;
There shalt thou cut thee many a leafy branch
From the wild olive and deep-rooted oak ;
Then cast me on it, take thy torch, and light
My funeral pile. Without one tear or groan
Unmanly do it, if thou art my son :
For if thou fail'st, remember, after death,
A father's curses will sit heavy on thee.
Hyl Alas, my father ! what hast thou commanded ?
What hast thou bade me do 1 ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^^^^
HeJ^* «^t 1 1110
Or thou art not the son of Hercules. « J^^
Hyl. a dreadful deed ! And must I then become
A parricide, and murder thee ?
My kind physician, balm of all my woes.
Hyl. Myself to cast thee in the flames ? Is that
An office fit for me ? , ^
jI^R If that alone i*i-'
Seem dreadful to thee, yet perform the rest.
Hyl I '11 bear thee thither.
fj^*^- ^ Wilt thou raise the pile ?
HER*
1106
TRACHINIiE.— ACT V.
243
Hyl. I will do anything but be myself
The executioner.
Her, 'Tis well, my son !
But one thing more, and I am satisfied ; 1120
'Tis but a little.
Hyl. Be it e*er so great,
I shall obey.
Her. Thou know'st the virgin daughter
Of Eurytus.
Hyl. lole ?
Her. Her, my son !
Remember, 'tis a father's last command,
And thou hast sworn obedience ; that lole 1125
1 do bequeathe thee : take her to thy arms,
When I am dead, and let her be thy wife :
It is not fitting she, who lay by the side
Of Hercules, to any but the son
Of Hercules should e'er descend : to thee 1130
Alone I yield her. Speak not, but obey me :
After thy kind compliance, to refuse
So slight a favor were to cancel all.
Hyl. Alas ! distemper'd as he is, to chide him [aside
Were most unkind ; and yet, what madness this ! 1135
Her. Thou wilt not do it then ?
Hyl. What ! marry her
Who slew my mother? Her, who hath brought thee
To this sad state ? It were an act of frensy :
Death be my portion, rather than to live
With those I hate.
Her. [turning to the Chorus.] He will not pay me
then
The duty which he owes a dying father :
But if thou dost not, curses from the gods
Await thee.
1140
Hyl.
O ! thou ravest : it is the rage
244 SOPHOCLES.
Of thy distemper makes thee talk so wildly.
Hek. Thou hast awaken'd all my woes ; again 1 145
Thev torture now.
jjyl. Alas ! what doubts arise,
What fears perplex me ! , . •,• *
" I f Mean'st thou to dispute
HER.
A father's will ?
jIyl. Must I then learn of thee
To do a wicked deed ?
jjgj^ It is not wicked,
If I request it of thee.
Hyl Is it just? ^^^^
Her.' It is ; the gods are witnesses 'tis just^
Hyl. Then by those gods I swear I will per-
form , , , ,
What thou coramand'st : I never can be deem d
Or base or impious for obeying thee. kj^dness
Her. 'Tis well, my son! one added ^'^^^'^g
more,
And I am satisfied ; before the racks
Of dire convulsion, and the pangs of madness
Asain attack me, throw me on the pile.
Haste then, and bear me to it ; there at last
I shaU hav; peace, and rest from all my sorrows IICO
Hyl Since 'tis thy will, my father ! we submit.
Her Now, ere the dreadful malady return,
Be firm, my soul ! ev'n as the hardened steel ;
Suspend thy cries, and meet the fatal blow 1164
W th joy and pleasure. Bear me hence my fnemls !
For you have shown yourselves my friends indeed.
And proved the base ingratitude of those
From whom I sprang, the cruel gods, who saw
Unmoved the woes of their unhappy son.
*Tis not in mortal to foresee his fate ; » " J
Mine is to them disgraceful, and to me
TRACHINIiE. — ACT \.
246
Most terrible; to me, of all mankind
The most distressed, the poor, the lost Alcides.
Cho. lole, come not forth, unhappy virgin !
Already hast thou seen enough of wo, 117o
And yet fresh sorrows wait thee ; but remember.
All is decreed, and all the work of Jove.
1174 lole, we may suppose, is coming ««/« ^^fS^'^™^/
to know th<3fate of Hercules; but is stopped by the Chorus.
Ind n?rvented from being a witness of the melancholy scene.
HercTs L led ou^ Hyllus. who had promised to accom-
pany him to Mount (Eta, where he expired.
CED
IPUS TYRANNUS,
CEDIPUS TYRANNUS.
DRAMATIS PERSON.^.
CEdipus, king of Thebes.
JocASTA, wife of CEdipus.
Creon, brother to Jocasta.
TiREsiAS, a blind prophet of Thebes.
A Shepherd from Corinth.
A Messenger.
An Old Shepherd, formerly belonging to Laius.
High Priest of Jupiter.
Chorus, composed of the priests and ancient men of Thebes,
Theban youths, children of CEdipus, attendants, &c.
ARGUMENT.
Laics, king of Thebes, having learned from the oracle of
ApoUo that he was destined to perish by the hand of his
son, commanded his wife Jocasta to destroy her mfant as
soon as it came into the world. The mother accordingly
gave the child to a domestic, with orders to expose him on
Mount Cithseron, where he was found by one of the shep-
herds of Polybus, king of Corinth ; who, having no chU-
dren, determined, by the advice of his queen, to keep the
boy in ignorance of the circumstances of his birth, and edu-
cate him as his own son. When CEdipus had arrived at
years of maturity, he went to consult the oracle, which ter-
rified him with the intelligence that he would commit par-
ricide and incest. He now therefore resolved to return to
Corinth no more ; ana travelling towards Phocis, met l^ius.
and, in a dispute which ensued, slew him. As a.dipus
was ignorant of the rank and quality of the man whom he
had killed, he was attracted to Thebes by the report of the
sphinx; the overthrow of which monster raised him to the
throne, while the prophecy was completed by his nuptials
with the widow of Laius, by whom he had four children.
The Theban territories were at length desolated by a plague,
which the oracle declared should cease when the murderer
of Laius was banished from Boeotia. After a mmute inves-
tigation, the dreadful secret was at length divulged; and
Jocasta put a period to her existence. whUe CEdipus de-
prived himself of sight, and was, at his own request, ba-
nished from Thebes by the order of Creon, the brother of
Jocasta, who then assumed the reins of government.
fs ;
250
SOPHOCLES.
CEDIPUS TYRANNUS.— ACT I.
251
ACT I.
Scene, Thebes before the palace of CEdipus.
CEDIPUS, HIGH PRIEST OF JUPITER.
CEdi. O my loved sons ! the youthful progeny
Of ancient Cadmus ! wherefore sit you here,
And suppliant thus, with sacred boughs adorn'd,
Crowd to our altars ? Frequent sacrifice,
And prayers, and sighs, and sorrows fill the land. 5
I could have sent to learn the fatal cause :
But see, your anxious sovereign comes himself
To know it all from you : behold your king,
Renowned CEdipus. Do thou, old man !
(For best that office suits thy years) inform me 10
Why you are come. Is it the present ill
That calls you here, or dread of future wo ?
Hard were indeed the heart that did not feel
For grief like yours, and pity such distress.
If there be aught that GEdipus can do 15
To serve his people, know me for your friend.
Priest. O king ! thou seest what numbers throne
thy altars.
Here, bending sad beneath the weight of years.
The hoary priests here crowd the chosen youth'
Of Thebes, with these a weak and suppliant train 20
Uf helpless infants : last, in me behold
The minister of Jove : far off thou seest
Assembled multitudes, with laurel crown'd.
To where Minerva's hallowM temples rise '
DeiDi?t1!?on;,nl^';ol *^ iJ^' ^°*"« *"^ lamentations of his
people thronging to the alter, comes out of his nalace to in-
V^TeJ^'JT', °' '""'K ^*^'^«»- «« ^iVhlrsub'e te
the progeny of Cadmus, who was the founder of Thebes
about two hundred years before his time. '
30
Frequent repair, or where Isroenus laves ^ 25
Apollo's sacred shrine. Too well thou know*st,
Thy wretched Thebes, with dreadful storms oppressed.
Scarce lifts her head above the whelming flood :
The teeming earth her blasted harvest mourns.
And on the barren plain the flocks and herds
Unnumber'd perish ; dire abortion thwarts
The mother's hopes, and painful she brings forth
The half-form'd infant ; baleful pestilence
Hath laid our city waste ; the fiery god
Stalks o'er deserted Thebes; whilst, with our groans
Enrich'd, the gloomy god of Erebus 35
Triumphant smiles. O CEdipus ! to thee
We bend : behold these youths ; with me they kneel,
And suppliant at thy altars sue for aid.
To thee, the first of men, and only less 40
Than they, whose favor thou alone canst gain.
The gods above •. thy wisdom yet may heal
The deep-felt wounds, and make the powers divine
Propitious to us. Thebes long since to thee
Her safety owed, when, from the sphinx deliver'd, 45
Thy grateful people saw thee, not by man
Bnt by the gods instructed, save the land.
Now then, thou best of kings 1 assist us now :
O ! by some mortal or immortal aid
Now succor the distress'd ! On wisdom oft 50
And prudent counsels, in the hour of ill,
45 The sphinx, according to poetical history, was a mon-
ster, with the face of a woman, wings of a bird, body of a
dog, and claws like a lion : she dwelt near Thebes, and every
day destroyed many people. The oracle declared that she
could never be conquered till some one was found that could
expound a certain riddle which she proposed. After many
unsuccessful attempts, CEdipus came, and explained it ; the
sphinx was destroyed, the nation was delivered, and (Edipus re-
warded for it with the kingdom of Thebes.
i
m
i
265i
SOPttOCLfeS.
(EDIPUS TYRANNUS.— ACT I.
Success awaits. O dearest prince ! support,
Relieve thy Thebes ; on thee, its saviour once,
Again it calls : now, if thou wouldst not see
The memory perish of thy former deeds, 65
Let it not call in vain ; but rise, and save.
With happiest omens once, and fair success.
We saw thee crown'd : O ! be thyself again,
And may thy will and fortune be the same !
If thou art yet to reign, O king ! remember^ 60
A sovereign's riches is a peopled realm ;
For what will ships or lofty towers avail,
UnarmM with men to guard and to defend them ?
(Edi. O my unhappy sons ! too well I know
Your sad estate ; 1 know the woes of Thebes : 65
And yet amongst you lives not such a wretch
As (Edipus; for, O! on me, my children !
Your sorrows press. Alas ! I feel for you,
My people, for myself, for Thebes, for all.
Think not I slept regardless of your ills ; ?0
no; with many a tear I wept your fate,
And oft in meditation deep revolved
How best your peace and safety to restore.
The only medicine that my thoughts could find
1 have administer'd : Menoeceus' son, 75
The noble Creon, went by my command
To Delphi, from Apollo's shrine to know
What must be done to save this wretched land.
'Tis time he were return*d ; I wonder much
At his delay : if, when he comes, your king 80
Perform not all the god enjoins, then say
He is the worst of men.
: Priest. O king ! thy words
Are gracious ; and, if right these youths inform me,
Creon is here.
CEdi. O Phoebus! grant he come
^
253
85
90
With tidings cheerful as the smile he wears !
Priest. He is the messenger of good; for see,
His brows are crown'd with laurel.
(Edi. We shall soon
Be satisfied : he comes.
Enter Creon, Chorus.
My dearest Creon !
O ! say, what answer bear'st thou from the god ;
Or good, or ill ?
Cre. Good, very good ; for, know.
The worst of ills, if rightly used, may prove
The means of happiness.
CEdi. What says my friend P
This answer gives me naught to hope or fear.
Cre. Shall we retire, or would you that I speak
In public here P
(Edi. Before them all declare it :
Their woes sit heavier on me than my own.
Cre. Then mark what I have heard : the god com-
mands
That instant we drive forth the fatal cause
Of this dire pestilence, nor nourish here
The accursed monster.
(Edi. WhoP what monster P how 100
Remove it P
Cre. Or by banishment, or death :
Life must be given for life ; for yet his blood
Rests on the city.
(Edi. Whose P what means the god ?
Cre. O king! before thee Laius ruled o'er Thebes.
(Edi. I know he did, though I did ne'er behold him.
Cre. Laius was slain, and on his murderers 106
rSo Phoebus says) we must have vengeance.
(Edi. W^^*^^'
95
264
SOPHOCLES.
(EDIPUS TYRANNUS.— ACT I.
255
Where are the murderers ? who shall trace the guilt
Buried so long in silence?
Cre. Here, he said,
Ev*n in this land : what's sought for may be found ;
But truth, unsearch'd for, seldom comes to light. Ill
CEdi. How did he fall, and where? at home,
abroad ?
Died he at Thebes, or in a foreign land?
Cre. He left his palace. Fame reports, to seek
Some oracle ; since that, we ne'er beheld him. 115
CEdi. But did no messenger return ? Not one
Of all his train, of whom we might inquire
Touching this murder?
Cre. One, and one alone,
Came back, who, flying, 'scaped the general slaugh-
ter ;
But nothing, save one little circumstance, 120
Or knew, or e'er related.
CEdi. What was that ?
Much may be learn'd from that : a little dawn
Of light appearing, may discover all.
Cre. Laius, atlack'd by robbers, and oppressed
By number, fell ; such is his tale.
CEdi. Would they,— 125
Would robbers do so desperate a deed,
Unbribed and unassisted ?
Cre. So indeed
Suspicion whisper'd then ; but, Laius dead,
No friend was found to vindicate the wrong.
CEdi. But what strange cause could stop inquiry
thus
Into the murder of a king ?
Cre. The sphinx : 131
Her dire enigma kept our thought intent
On present ills, nor gave us time to search
The past mysterious deed.
CEdi. Myself will try
Soon to unveil it : thou, Apollo ! well, 135
And well hast thou, my Creon ! lent thy aid ;
Your CEdipus shall now perform his part :
Yes, I will fight for Phoebus and ray country.
And so I ought ; for not to friends alone
Or kindred owe I this, but to myself. 140
Who murdered him perchance would murder me ;
His cause is mine : wherefore, my children ! rise,
Take hence your suppliant boughs, and summon here
The race of Cadmus, my assembled people.
Naught shall be left untried : Apollo leads, 145
And we will rise to joy, or sink for ever.
Priest. Haste then, my sons! for this we hither came;
About it quick ; and may the god, who sent
This oracle, protect, defend, and save us ! [Exeunt,
P
CHORUS.
STROPHE I,
O, thou great oracle divine !
Who didst to happy Thebes remove.
From Delphi's golden shrine, '
And in sweet sounds declare the will of Jove ;
Daughter of hope ! O ! soothe my soul to rest,
And calm the rising tumult in my breast.
Look down, O Phoebus ! on thy loved abode ;
Speak, for thou know'st the dark decrees of fate,
Our present and our future state.
O Delian I be thou still our healing god !
ANTISTROPHE I.
Minerva ! first on thee I call.
Daughter of Jove, immortal maid ;
Low beneath thy feet we fall :
O ! bring thy sister Dian to our aid.
150
155
160
256
SOPHOCLES.
(EDIPUS TYRANNUS. — ACT II.
267
Goddess of Thebes ! from thy imperial throne
Look with an eye of gentle pity down ; 166
And thou, far-shootinj? Phoebus! once the friend
Of this unhappy, this devoted land ;
O ! now, if ever, let thy hand
Once more be stretch'd to save and to defend.
STROPHE II.
Great Thebes, my sons ! is now no more ; 170
She falls, and ne'er again shall rise ;
Naught can her health or strength restore :
The mighty nation sinks, she droops, she dies.
Stripp'd of her fruits behold the barren earth ;
The half-form*d infant struggles for a birth ; 176
The mother sinks, unequal to her pain :
Whilst, quick as birds in airy circles fly.
Or lightnings from an angry sky.
Crowds press on crowds to Pluto's dark domain.
ANTISTROI'HE II.
Behold, what heaps of wretches slain, 180
Unburied, unlamented lie ;
Nor parents now nor friends remain
To grace their deaths with pious obsequy ;
The aged matron and the blooming wife,
Clung to the altars, sue for added life. 186
With sighs and groans united. Paean's rise ;
Re-echoed still doth great Apollo's name
Their sorrows and their wants proclaim ;
Frequent to him ascends the sacrifice.
STROPHE HI.
Haste, then, Minerva ! beauteous maid ! 190
Descend in this afflictive hour ;
Haste to thy dying people's aid ;
Drive hence this baneful, this destructive power,
Who comes not arm'd with hostile sword or shield.
Yet strews with many a corse the ensanguined field.
To Amphitrite's wide-extending bed, 196
O ! drive me, goddess ! from thy favorite land ;
Or let him, by thy dread command,
Bury in Thracian waves his ignominious head.
ANTISTROPHE. Ill,
Father of all, immortal Jove ! 200
O ! now thy fiery terrors send ;
From thy dreadful stores above
Let lightnings blast him, and let thunders rend.
And thou, O Lydian king ! thy aid impart ;
Send from thy golden bow the unerring dart ; 206
Smile, chaste Diana ! on this loved abode,
Whilst Theban Bacchus joins the maddening throng.
god of wine, and mirth, and song !
Now with thy torch destroy the base, inglorimis god.
{_Exeunt.
ACT II.
CEDlPUS, CHORUS, the People assembled,
(Edi, Your prayers are heard ; and, if you will obey
Your king, and hearken to his words, you soon 211
Shall find relief; myself will heal your woes.
1 was a stranger to the dreadful deed,
A stranger ev'n to the report till now ;
And yet, without some traces of the crime, 216
I should not urge this matter ; therefore hear me.
I speak to all the citizens of Thebes,
Myself a citizen ; observe me well :
If any know the murderer of Laius,
Let him reveal it ; I command you all ; 220
But if, restrained by dread punishment
209 Bacchus is always described with torches ; probably in
remembrance of his birth, as being bora in flames, when his
mother Semele was consumed by Jove's lightning.
SOPH. R
268
SOPHOCLES,
r
285
He hide the secret, let him fear no more ;
For naught but exile shall attend the crime,
Whene'er confessed ; if by a foreign hand
The horrid deed was done, who points him out 22o
Commands our thanks, and meets a sure'reward ;
But if there be who knows the murderer,
And yet conceals him from us, mark his fate,
Which here I do pronounce : let none receive,
Throughout my kingdom, none hold converse with him,
Nor offer prayer, nor sprinkle o'er his head 231
The sacred cup ; let him be driven from all,
By all abandoned, and by all accursed ;
For so the Delphic oracle declared :
And therefore to the gods I pay this duty.
And to the dead. O ! may the guilty wretch,
Whether alone, or by his impious friends
Assisted, he performed the horrid deed.
Denied the common benefits of nature,
Wear out a painful life ! and, O ! if here,
Within my palace I conceal the traitor,
On me and mine alight the vengeful curse !
To you, my people ! I commit the care
Of this important business ; 'tis my cause,
The cause of Heaven, and your expiring country. 245
Ev'n if the god had naught declared, to leave
This crime unexpiated were most ungrateful :
He was the best of kings, the best of men ;
That sceptre now is mine which Laius bore :
His wife is mine ; so would his children be.
Did any live ; and therefore am I bound,
231 Before the sacrifice, it was customary for those who
partook of it to wash their hands together in the lustral water,
with which they were afterwards sprinkled ,by the priests, by
way of purification : to be denied this, was always considered
as a mark of guilt and infamy.
240
250
CEDIPUS TYRANNUS. — ACT II.
259
Ev*n as he were ray father, to revenge him.
Yes, I will try to find this murderer;
I owe it to the son of Labdacus,
To Polydorus, Cadmus, and the race 255
Of great Agenor. O ! if yet there are.
Who will not join me in the pious deed ;
From such may Earth withhold her annual store,
And barren be their bed, their life most wretched.
And their death cruel as the pestilence 260
That wastes our city : but on you, my Thebans !
Who wish us fair success, may Justice smile
Propitious, and the gods for ever bless !
Cho. O king ! thy imprecation unappall'd
I hear, and join thee, guiltless of the crime, 265
Nor knowing who committed it. The god ,
Alone, who gave the oracle, must clear
Its doubtful sense, and point out the offender.
CEdi. 'Tis true ; but who shall force the powers di-
vine
To speak their hidden purpose ?
Cho. One thing more, 270
If I might speak.
(Edi. Say on, whate'er thy mind
Shall dictate to thee.
Cho. As amongst the gods
All -knowing Phoebus, so to mortal men
Doth sage Tiresias in foreknowlege sure
Shine forth pre-eminent : perchance his aid
Might much avail us. 275
GSdi. Creon did suggest
The same expedient, and by his advice
Twice have I sent for this Tiresias : much '
I wonder that he comes not.
Cho. 'Tis most fitting
We do consult him ; for the idle tales 280
■M
1^>?
-r!-t--ats ji^vWewBeass^
260
SOPHOCLES.
(EDIPUS TYRANNUS.—ACT 11.
261
Which rumor spreads are not to be regarded.
CEdi. What are those 'tales ? for naught should we
despise.
Cho. 'Tis said, some travellers did attack the king.
CEdi. It is ; but still no proof appears.
Cho. And yst,
If it be so, thy dreadful execration 235
Will force the guilty to confess.
CEdi. O no !
Who fears not to commit the crime, will ne'er
Be frighted at the curse that follows it.
Cho. Behold, he comes, who will discover all ;
The holy prophet, see ! They lead him hither : 290
He knows the truth, and will reveal it to us.
Enter Tiresias,
CEdi. O sage Tiresias ! thou, who know'st all
That can be known, the things of heaven above
And earth below ; whose mental eye beholds,
Blind as thou art, the state of dying Thebes, 295
And weeps her fate ; to thee we look for aid ;
On thee alone for safety we depend.
This answer, which perchance thou hast not heard,
Apollo gave : The plague, he said, should cease.
When those who murder'd Laius were discover*d, 300
And paid the forfeit of their crime by death
Or banishment. O ! do not then conceal
Aught that thy art prophetic, from the flight
Of birds or other omens, may disclose.
O ! save thyself, save this afflicted city, 305
Save (Edipus, avenge the guiltless dead
From this pollution ! Thou art all our hope :
Remember, 'tis the privilege of man,
His noblest function, to assist the wretched.
TiR. Alas ! what misery it is to know, 310
When knowlege is thus fatal ! O Tiresias !
Thou art undone. Would I had never come !
CEdi. What say*st thou P Whence this strange de-
jection? Speak.
TiR. Let me be begone ; 'twere better for us both
That I retire in silence : be advised. 315
CEdi. It is ingratitude to Thebes, who bore
Aud cherished thee ; it is unjust to all,
To hide the will of Heaven.
TiR. 'Tis rash in thee
To ask, and rash I fear will prove my answer.
Cho. O ! do not, by the gods, conceal it from us :
Suppliant we all request, we all conjure thee. 321
TiR. You know not what you ask : I'll not unveil
Your miseries to you,
CEdi. - Know'st thou then our fate,
And will not tell it ? Mean'st thou to betray
Thy country and thy king ?
TiR. I would not make 325
Myself and thee unhappy : why thus blame
My tender care, nor listen to my caution ?
CEdi. Wretch as thou art, thou wouldst provoke a
stone,
Inflexible and cruel, still implored.
And still refusing.
TiR. Thou condemn'st my warmth, 330
Forgetful of thy own.
CEdi. Who would not rage,
To see an injured people treated thus
With vile contempt ?
TiR. What is decreed by Heaven
Must come to pass, though I reveal it not.
CEdi. Still 'tis thy duty to inform us of it. 335
TiR. I *11 speak no more, not though thine anger
swell
1:;
I \
V'
262
S0PH0CLE3.
CEDIPUS TYRANNUS. — ACT 11.
263
Ev'n to its utmost.
GEdi. Nor will I be silent
I tell thee, once for all, thou wert thyself
Accomplice in this deed ; nay more, I think,
But for thy blindness, wouldst with thy own hand 340
Have done it too.
TiR. *Tis well ; now hear Tiresias :
The sentence, which thou didst thyself proclaim,
Falls on thyself: henceforth shall never man
Hold converse with thee, for thou art accursed;
The guilty cause of this our city's woes. 345
CEdi. Audacious traitor;! think'st thou to escape
The hand of vengeance ?
TiR. Yes, I fear thee not ;
For truth is stronger than a tyrant's arm.
CEdi. Whence didst thou learn this ? Was it from
thy art ?
TiR. Ilearn'd it from thyself: thou didst compel
me 350
To speak, unwilling as I was.
GEdi. Once more
Repeat it then, that T may know my fate
More plainly still.
TiR. Is it not plain already,
Or meanest thou but to tempt me ?
CEdi. No ; but say.
Speak it again,
TiR. Again then I declare 355
Thou art thyself the murderer whom thou seek'st !
CEdi. A second time thou shalt not pass unpunished.
TiR. What wouldst thou say, if I should tell thee
allP
CEdi. Say what thou wilt ; for all is false.
TiR. Know then,
That CEdipus, in shameful bonds united 360
With those he loves, unconscious of his guilt.
Is yet most guilty.
CEdi. Darest thou utter more.
And hope for pardon ?
TiR. Yes, if there be strength
In sacred truth.
CEdi. But truth dwells not in thee :
Thy body and thy mind are dark alike, 365
For both are blind : thy every sense is lost.
TiR. Thou dost upbraid me with the loss of that,
For which thyself ere long shall meet reproach
From every tongue.
CEdi. Thou blind and impious traitor!
Thy darkness is thy safeguard, or this hour 370
Had been thy last.
TiR. It is not in my fate
To fall by thee ; Apollo guards his priest.
CEdi, Was this the tale of Creon, or thy own ?
TiR. Creon is guiltless, and the crime is thine.
CEdi. O riches, power, dominion, and thou far 375
Above them all, the best of human blessings.
Excelling wisdom, how doth envy love
To follow and oppress you ! This fair kingdom.
Which, by the nation's choice and not my own,
I here possess, Creon, my faithful friend, 380
(For such I thought him once,) would now wrest from
me,
And hath suborn'd this vile impostor here,
This wandering hypocrite, of sharpest sight
When interest prompts, but ignorant and blind
When fools consult him. Tell me, prophet ! where
Was all thy art, when the abhorred sphinx 386
Alarm*d our city ? Wherefore did not then
Thy wisdom save us ? Then the man divine
Was wanting ; but thy birds refused their omens ;
I I
264
SOPHOCLES.
(EDIPUS TYRANNUS. — ACT II.
265
Thy god was silent; then came (Edipns, 390
This poor, aniearned, uninstnicted sage,
Who not from birds uncertain omens drew,
But by his own sagacious mind explored
The hidden mystery ; and now thou comest
To cast me from the throne my wisdom gain'd, 395
And share with Creon ray divided empire.
But you should both lament your ill-got power.
You and your bold compeer ; for thee, this moment,
But,that I bear respect unto thy age,
I 'd make thee rue thy execrable purpose. 400
Cho. You both are angry, therefore both to blame :
Much rather should you join, with friendly zeal
And mutual ardor, to explore the will
Of all-deciding Heaven.
TiR. What though thou rulest
O'er Thebes despotic, we are equal here ; 405
I am Apollo's subject, and not thine ;
Nor want I Creon to protect me. No ;
I tell thee, king ! this blind Tiresias tells thee.
Seeing thou seest not, know'st not where thou art.
What, or with whom. Canst thou inform me who
Thy parents are, and what thy horrid crimes 411
'Gainst thy own race, the living and the dead ?
A father's and a mother's curse attend thee.
Soon shall their Furies drive thee from the land.
And leave thee dark like me : what mountain then.
Or conscious shore, shall not return the groans 416
Of OBdipus, and echo to his woes ?
When thou shalt look on the detested bed ;
And in that haven, where thou hopest to rest.
Shall meet with storm and tempest ; then what ills 420
Shall fall on thee and thine ! Now vent thy rage
On old Teresias and the guiltless Creon :
We shall be soon avenged, for ne'er did Heaven
Cut off a wretch so base, so vile as thou art.
(Edi. Must I bear this from thee ? Away, begone ;
Home, villain !_home.
TiR. I did not come to thee 426
Unsent for.
CEdi, Had I thought thou wouldst have thus
Insulted me, I had not call'd thee hither.
TiR. Perhaps thou hold'st Tiresias as a fool
And madman ; but thy parents thought me wise. 430
CEdi. My parents, saidst thou ? Speak ! who were
my parents P
TiR. This day, that gives thee life, shall give thee
death.
CEdi. Still dark, and still perplexing are the words
Thou utter'st.
TiR. 'Tis thy business to unriddle.
And therefore thou canst best interpret them. 435
CEdi. Thou dost reproach me for my virtues.
TiR- They,
And thy good fortune, have undone thee.
^^^- Since
I saved the city, I 'm content.
TiR. Farewell.
Boy ! lead me hence.
5^Di. Away with him, for here
His presence but disturbs us ; being gone, 440
W e shall be happier.
TiR. CEdipus ! I go ;
But first inform thee, (for I fear thee not,)
Wherefore I came : know then, I came to tell thee.
The man thou seek'st, the man on whom thou poar'dst
432 That is, ' This day, which shaU discover who thy pa-
rents are that gave thee life, shall also, by that discovery,
th^f h ' ^^^^ ^°^ ^^^^ ^ ^^^^ ^^® murderer of
f
I
[,
266
SOPHOCLES.
CEDIPUS TYRANNUS. — ACT III.
267
445
450
455
Thy execrations, ev'n the murderer
Of Laius, now is here ; a seeming stranger,
And yet a Theban. He shall suffer soon
For all his crimes : from light and affluence dnven
To penury and darkness, poor and blind,
Propp'd on his staff, and from his native land
Expeird, I see him in a foreign clime
A helpless wanderer ; to his sons at once,
A father and a brother ; child and husband
Of her from whom he sprang. Adulterous,
Incestuous parricide ! now fare thee well :
Go, learn the truth ; and if it be not so,
Say I have ne'er deserved the name of prophet.
CHORUS.
STROPHE I.
When will the guilty wretch appear,
Whom Delphi's sacred oracle demands ;
Author of crimes too black for mortal ear.
Dipping in royal blood his sacrilegious hands?
Swift as the storm by rapid whirlwinds driven.
Quick let him fly the impending wrath of Heaven ;
For, lo ! the angry son of Jove,
ArmM with red lightnings from above, 40^
Pursues the murderer with immortal hate.
And round him spreads the snares of unrelenting fate.
ANTISTROPHE 1.
From steep Parnassus' rocky cave,
Covered with snow, came forth the dread command ;
Apollo thence his sacred mandate gave, 47U
To search the man of blood through every land.
Silent and sad, the weary wanderer roves
O'er pathless rocks and solitary groves,
Hoping to 'scape the wrath divine
Denounced from great Apollo's shrine : 475
460
Vain hopes to 'scape the fate by Heaven decreed !
For vengeance hovers still o'er his devoted head.
STROPHE II.
Tiresias, famed for wisdom's lore.
Hath dreadful ills to CEdipus divined ;
And as his words mysterious I explore, 480
Unnumber'd doubts perplex my anxious mind :
Now raised by hope, and now with fears oppress'd,
Sorrow and joy alternate fill my breast.
How should these hapless kings be foes.
When never strife between them rose ? 485
Or why should Laius, slain by hands unknown,
Bring foul disgrace on Polybus' unhappy son ?
ANTISTROPHE II.
From Phoebus and all-seeing Jove
Naught can be hid of actions here below ;
But earthly prophets may deceitful prove, 490
And litttle more than other mortals know.
Though much in wisdom man doth man excel,
In all that 's human error still must dwell.
Could he commit the bloody deed,
Who from the sphinx our city freed ? 495
O no ! he never shed the guiltless blood ;
The sphinx declares him wise, and innocent, and good.
lExeutU,
ACT III.
CREON, CHORUS.
Cre. O CITIZENS I with grief I hear your king
Hath blasted the fair fame of guiltless Creon,
And most unjustly brands me with a crime 500
My soul abhors. Whilst desolation spreads
On every side, and universal ruin
Hangs o'er the land, if I in word or deed
268
SOPHOCLES.
(EDIPUS TYRANNUS.— ACT III.
505
510
CJould join to swell the woes of hapless Thebes,
I were unworthy, nay, I would not wish
To live another day. Alas, my friends !
Thus to be deemed a traitor to my country.
To you, my fellow-citizens ! to all
That hear me, O ! 'tis infamy and shame :
I cannot, will not bear it.
Cho. 'Twas the effect
Of sudden anger only ; what he said,
But could not think.
Cre. Who told him I suborn'd
The prophet to speak falsely P What could raise
This vile suspicion ?
Cho. Such he had, but whence
I know not.
Cre. Talk'd he thus with firm composure 515
And confidence of mind ?
Cho. I cannot say ;
*Tis not for me to know the thoughts of kings,
Or judge their actions : but, behold, he comes.
Enter CEdipus.
CEdi. Ha! Creon here? And darest thou thus ap-
proach
My palace ? thou, who wouldst have murder'd me, 520
And taken my kingdom ? By the gods, I ask thee,
(Answer me, traitor !) didst thou think me fool
Or coward, that I could not see thy arts.
Or had not strength to vanquish them ? What mad-
ness.
What strange infatuation, led thee on, 625
Without or force or friends, to grasp at empire,
Which only their united force can give?
What wert thou doing ?
Cre. Hear what I shall answer,
269
« fl«
Then judge impartial.
n^i\ ., . ^^^^ ^^'^^^ *alk it well,
But I shall ne er attend to thee : thy guilt 530
Is plain ; thou art my deadliest foe.
What% shall urge. ^"* ^'"^
^T\r .r . . S^y no^ thou artinnocent.
Cre. If self-opmion, void of reason, seem
(5^'m a" hM^''' '^""^^ '^°" «"'«^ ^^'^ ff^ossly.
Unpunish d for this injury to thy friend. 536
H.v?*T 't ?*^ "^^"^ ^ ^""^^^y ' "^"t ^'hat crime
Have I committed ? Tell me.
rp/^^'- , Wert not thou
Ihe man, who urged me io require the aid
Ut your all-knowing prophet ?
f J. . . True, I was: 540
I did persuade you : so I would again.
CEdi. How long is it since Laius
cv>* c- T . r ,, . Laius? what?
^Di. Since Lams fell by hands unknown ?
Long tract of years. /.long,
CEdi Was this Tiresias then
A prophet ?
Cre. Ay, in wisdom and in fame. ^4*i
As now, excelling. ' ^^^
CoSrmngmer ^^ "o then say aught
Cre. I never heard he did.
W^"!; ^""^""S this murder, did joune'er inquire
Who were the authors ? h"""
^m Wh A- A . .V Doubtless ; but io vain.
(Edi. Why did not the same prophet then inform
'"'"' 550
270
SOPHOCLES.
CEDIPUS TYRANNUS.— ACT III.
271
Cre. I know not that, and when I 'm ignorant
I 'm always silent.
CEdi What concerns thyself
At least thou know'st, and therefore shouldst declare it.
Cre. What is it ? Speak ; and if His in my power,
I /U answer thee. .« , . m- • fif^K
' (Edt. Thou know'st, if this Tiresias 655
Had not combined with thee, he would not thus
Accuse me as the murderer of Laius.
Cre. What he declares thou besj canst tell ; ot me,
What thou requirest, myself am yet to learn.
(Edi. Go, learn it then ; but ne'er shalt thou dis-
560
cover
That CEdipus is guilty.
CRg^ Art not thou
My sister's husband ?
CEdi Granted.
C^g * Join'd with her,
Thou rulest o'er Thebes. , „ . ,,
(Eu,^ 'Tis true, and all she asks
Most freely do I give her.
C^g^ Is not Creon
In honor next to you ? , , - .«<
(Ejj,^ Thou art, and therefore 565
The more ungrateful. ^ . » v n i «^
Q^^ Hear what I shall plead,
And thou wilt never think so ; tell me, prince !
Is there a man, who would prefer a throne.
With all its dangers, to an equal rank
In peace and safety ? I am not of those 570
Who choose the name of king before the power ;
Fools only make such wishes : I have all
From thee, and fearless I enjoy it all.
Had I the sceptre, often must I act
Against my will. Know then, I am not yet 675
So void of sense and reason, as to quit
A real 'vantage for a seeming good.
Am I not happy ? am I not revered.
Embraced, and loved by all ? To me they come
Who want thy favor, and by me acquire it : 580
What then should Creon wish for ? Shall he leave
All this for empire P Bad desires corrupt
The fairest mind : I never entertained
A thought so vile, nor would I lend my aid
To forward such base purposes. But go 535
To Delphi ; ask th'e sacred oracle
If I have spoke the truth : if there you find
That with the prophet I conspired, destroy
The guilty Creon : not thy voice alone
Shall then condemn me, for myself will join 590
In the just sentence ; but accuse me not
On weak suspicion's most uncertain test.
Justice would never call the wicked good.
Or brand fair virtue with the name of vice.
Unmerited : to cast away a friend ' 595
Faithful and just, is to deprive ourselves
Of life and being, which we hold most dear :
But time, and time alone, revealeth all ;
That only shows the good man's excellence :
A day sufficeth to unmask the wicked. * goo
Cho. O king ! his caution merits your regard •
Who judge in haste do seldom judge aright.
'T^^I'j^J'^V^^^ ^'^ "^"'^^ ^^^ P^°^ against my life,
lis fit I should be quick in my defence :
If I am tame and silent, all they wish ' e05
Will soon be done, and CEdipus must fall.
^E. What wouldst thou have ? my banishment?
^E. But first inform me wherefore I should die
CEdi. Dost thou rebel then ? Wilt thou not submit ^
272 SOPHOCLES;
Cre. Not when I see thee thus deceived.
(EDIPUS TYRANNUS.— ACT III.
273
'Tis fit 610
616
CEdi.
I should defend my own.
(^j^g^ And so should 1.
CEdi. Thou art a traitor.
^^|; What, if I should prove
I am not so ? , , » j
CEdi. A king must be obey d.
Cre.' Not if his orders are unjust, ^^^^^ ^
CEdi.
O'citizens! ^, _
Cre. I too can call on Thebes :
She is my country.
Cho. O ! no more, my lords !
For, see, Jocasta comes in happiest hour
To end your contest.
Enter Jocasta.
jq^j Whence this sudden tumult ?
O princes ! is this well, at such a time
With idle broils to multiply the woes 620
Of wretched Thebes? Home, home, for shame; 3or
thus
With private quarrel swell the public ruin.
Cre. Sister! thy husband hath most basely used
me ;
He threatens me with banishment or death.
CEdi. I do confess it ; for he did conspire,
With vile and wicked arts, against my life.
Cre. O ! may I never prosper, but, accursed,
Unpitied, perish if I ever did !
Joe. Believe him, OEdipus ! revere the gods
Whom he contests, if thou dost love Jocasta :
Thy subjects beg it of thee.
Cho. Hear, O king !
€25
630
Consider, we intreat thee.
CEdi. What \7ouldst Lave ?
Think you I 'II e'er submit to him ?
Cho. Revere
His character, his oath, both pleading for him.
CEdi. But know you what you ask ?
Cho. We do.
CEdi. What is it ? 635
Cho. We ask thee to believe a guiltless friend,
Nor cast him forth dishonored thus, on slight
Suspicion's weak surmise.
CEdi. Requesting this.
You do request my banishment or death.
Cho. No, by yon leader of the heavenly host, 640
The immortal sun, I had not such a thought :
I only felt for Thebes' distressful state,
And would not have it by domestic strife
Embitter'd thus.
CEdi. Why, let him then depart :
If CEdi pus must die, or leave his country, 645
For shameful exile, be it so : I yield
To thy request, not his ; for hateful still
Shall Creon ever be.
Cre. Thy stubborn soul
Bends with reluctance, and, when anger fires it.
Is terrible; but natures, form'd like thine, 650
Are their own punishment.
CEdi. Wilt thou not hence ?
Wilt not be gone ?
Cre. I go : thou know'st me not ;
But these will do me justice. [Exit Creon.
Cho, Princess ! now
Persuade him to retire.
Joe. First, let me know
SOPH. s
1!
274
SOPHOCLES.
655
The cause of this dissension.
Cho. From reports
Uncertain, and suspicions most injurious,
The quarrel rose.
Joe. Was the accusation mutual ?
Cho. It was.
Joe. What followed then ?
Qy^Q^ Ask me no more ;
Enough 's already known : we '11 not repeat
The woes of hapless Thebes.
CEoi, You are all blind, 660
Insensible, unjust ; you love me not,
Yet boast your piety.
Cho. I said before,
Again I say, that not to love my king
Ev'n as myself, would mark me for the worst
Of men ; for thou didst save expiring Thebes. 665
O ! rise once more, protect, preserve thy country !
Joe. O king ! inform me, whence this strange dis-
sension ? ,
CEdi. I '11 tell thee, my Jocasta ! (for thou know st
The love I bear thee) what this wicked Creon
Did artfully devise against me.
Joe. Speak it, 670
If he indeed be guilty.
CEdi. Croon says
That^I did murder Laius.
Joe. Spake he this.
As knowing it himself, or from another ?
CEdi. He had suborn'd that evil-working priest,
And sharpens every tongue against his king. 675
Joe. Let not a fear perplex thee, CEdipus !^
Mortals know nothing of futurity.
And these prophetic seers are all impostors ;
I 'II prove it to thee. Know, then, Lauis once.
CEDIPUS TYRANNLS.— ACT lil.
275
Not from Apollo, but his priests, received 680
An oracle, which said, it was decreed
He should be slain by his own son, the offspring
Of Laius and Jocasta : yet he fell
By strangers murder'd (for so fame reports)
By robbers in the place where three ways meet. 685
A son was born ; but ere three days had pass'd,
The infant's feet were bored ; a servant took,
And left him on the pathless mountain's top,
To perish there : thus Phoebus ne'er decreed
That he should kill his father, or that Laius 690
(Which much he fcar'd) should by his son be slain.
Such is the truth of oracles : henceforth
Regard them not. What Heaven would have us
know.
It can with ease unfold, and will reveal it.
CEdi. What thou hast said, Jocasta ! much disturbs
me: 695
I tremble at it.
Joe. Wherefore shouldst thou fear ?
CEdi. Methought I heard thee say, Laius was slain
Where three ways meet.
Joe. 'Twas so reported then,
And is so still.
CEdi. Where happen'd the misfortune ?
Joe. In Phocis, where the roads unite, that lead
To Delphi and to Daulia.
CEdi. How long since P 701
Joe. A little time ere you began to reign
O'er Thebes, we heard it.
CEdi. O almighty Jove !
What wilt thou do with me ?
Joe. Why talk'st thou thus ?
CEdi. Ask me no more ; but tell me of this Laius,
What was his age and stature?
Joe. He was tall ; 706
ill
276
SOPHOCLES.
His hairs just turning; to the silver hue ;
His form not much unlike thy own.
OEdi. - O me !
Sure I have call'd down curses on myself
Unknowing.
Joe. Ha ! what say'st thou, CEdipus ? 710
I tremble whilst I look on thee.
CEdi. O! much
I fear, the prophet saw too well : but say.
One thing will make it clear.
Joe. I dread to hear it ;
Yet speak, and 1 will tell thee,
OEdi. Went he forth
With few attendants, or a numerous train, 715
In kingly pomp ?
Joe. They were but five in all,
The herald with them ; but one chariot there,
Which carried Laius.
GEdi. O ! His but too plain.
Who brought the news ?
,Joc. A servant, who alone
Escaped with life.
GEdi. That servant, is he here ? 720
Joe. O no : his master slain, when he return'd,
And saw thee on the throne of Thebes, with prayer
Most earnest he besought me to dismiss him,
That he might leave this city, where he wish*d
No longer to be seen, but to retire, 725
And feed my flocks : I granted his request ;
For that and more his honest services
Had merited.
CEdi. I beg he may be sent for
Immediately.
Joe. He shall ; but wherefore is it ?
CEdi. I fear*ihou hast said too much, and therefore
wish 730
CEDIPUS TYKANNUS. — ACT III.
277
To see him.
Joe. He shall come ; but, O ray lord !
Am I not worthy to be told the cause
Of this distress ?
CEdi. Thou art, and I will tell thee.
Thou art my hope; to whom should I impart
My sorrows, but to thee ? Know then, Jocasta ! 735
I am the son of Polybus, who reigns
At Corinth, and the Dorian Merope
His queen : there long I held the foremost rank,
Honor'd and happy, when a strange event
(For strange it was, though little meriting 740
The deep concern I felt) alarra'd me much.
A drunken reveller at a feast proclaim'd
That I was only the supposed son
Of Corinth's king. Scarce could I bear that day
The vile reproach ; the next, I sought my parents 745
And ask'd of them the truth ; they too, enraged.
Resented much the base indignity.
1 liked their tender warmth, but still I felt
A secret anguish ; and, unknown to them.
Sought out the Pythian oracle, in vain. 750
Touching my parents, nothing could I learn ;
But dreadful were the miseries it denounced
Against me i 'twas my fate, Apollo said,
To wed my mother, to produce a race
Accursed and abhorr'd, and, last, to slay 755
My father who begat me ; — sad decree !
Lest I should e'er fulfil the dire prediction,
Instant I fled from Corinth, by the stars
Guiding my hapless journey to the place
Where thou report'st this wretched king was slain.
But I will tell thee the whole truth : at length, 761
I came to where the three ways meet ; when, lo !
A herald, with another man, like him
il
1)
278
SOPHOCLES.
OLDIPUS TYRANNUS. — ACT III.
279
765
770
775
780
Whom thou describest, and in a chariot, met me.
Both strove with violence to drive me back.
Enraged, I struck the charioteer, when, straight,
As I advanced, the old man saw, and twice
Smote me on the head ; but dearly soon repaid
The insult on me : from his chariot roU'd
Prone on the earth, beneath my staff he fell,
And instantly expired : the attendant train
All shared his fate. If this unhappy stranger
And Laius be the same, lives their a wretch
So cursed, so hateful to the gods as I am?
Nor citizen nor alien must receive,
Or converse or communion hold with me.
But drive me forth with infamy and shame :
The dreadful curse pronounced with my own lips
Shall soon o'ertake me ; I have stain'd the bed
Of him whom I had murder'd; am I then
Aught but pollution ? If I fly from hence,
The bed of incest meets me, and I go
To slay my father Polybus, the best,
The tenderest parent : this must be the work
Of some malignant power. Ye righteous gods !
Let me not see that day, but rest in death.
Rather than suffer such calamity.
Cho. O king! we pity thy distress ; but wait
With patience his arrival, and despair not.
CEdi. That shepherd is my only hope: Jocasta! 790
Would he were here !
Joe. Suppose he were ; what then?
What wouldst ihou do?
(Edi. I'll tell thee : if he says
The same as thou dost, I am safe, and guiltless..
Joe. What said I then ?
CEdi. Thou said'st he did report
Laius was slain by robbers : if 'tis true 795
785
800
805
He fell by numbers, I am innocent,
For I was unattended ; if but one
Attacked and slew him, doubtless I am he.
Joe. Be satisfied, it must be as he, first
Reported it ; he cannot change the tale.
Not I alone, but the whole city heard it :
Or grant he should, the oracle was ne'er
Fulfill'd ; for Phoebus said, Jocasta's son
Should slay his father ; that could never be.
For, O ! Jocasta's son long since is dead.
He could not murder Laius ; therefore, never ,
Will I attend to prophecies again.
CEdi. Right, my Jocasta ! but, I beg thee, send
And fetch this shepherd ; do not fail.
Joe. I will,
This moment ; come, my lord ! let us go in ; 810
I will do nothing but what pleases thee. [Exeunt.
CHORUS.
STROPHE I.
Grant me, henceforth, ye powers divine !
In virtue's purest paths to tread ;
In every word, in every deed.
May sanctity of manners ever shine ;
Obedient to the laws of Jove,
The laws descended from above ;
Which, not like those by feeble mortals given,
Buried in dark oblivion lie.
Or, worn by time, decay and die ;
But bloom eternal like their native heaven !
ANTISTROPHE I.
Pride first gave birth to tyranny :
That hateful vice, insulting Pride,
When, every human power defied.
She lifts to glory's height her votary;
815
820
SW
280
SOPHOCLES.
ii
Soon stumbling, from her tottering throne
She throws the wretched victim down.
Bat may the god, indulgent, hear my prayer,
That god, whom humbly I adore :
O ! may he smile on Thebes once more, 830
And take its wretched monarch to his care !
STROPHE H.
Perish the impious and profane.
Who, void of reverential fear.
Nor justice nor the laws revere ;
Who leave their god for pleasure or for gain ; 836
Who swell by fraud their ill -got store j
Who rob the wretched and the poor.
If vice, unpunished, virtue's meed obtain,
Who shall refrain the impetuous soul,
The rebel passions who control, 840
Or wherefore do I lead this choral train ?
ANTISTROPHE H.
No more to Delphi's sacred shrine
Need we with incense now repair ;
No more shall Phocis hear our prayer,
Nor fair Olympia see her rites divine ; 845
If oracles no longer prove
The power of Phoebus and of Jove.
Great lord of all! from thy eternal throne
Behold how impious men defame
Thy loved Apollo's honored name : 850
O ! guard his rights, and vindicate thy own. [Exeunt.
ACT IV.
JOCASTA, CHORUS.
Joe. Saoes and rulers of the land ! I come
To seek the altars of the gods, and there
(EDIPUS TYRANNUS. — ACT IV.
281
With incense and oblations to appease
Offended Heaven. My CEdipus, alas ! 855
No longer wise and prudent, as you all
Remember once he was, with present things
Compares the past, nor judges like himself:
Unnumber'd cares perplex his anxious mind,
And every tale awakes new terrors in him. 860
Vain is my council, for he hears me not.
First then, to thee, O Phoebus ! (for thou still
Art near to help the wretched,) we appeal.
And suppliant beg thee now to grant thy aid
Propitious : deep is our distress ; for, O ! 865
We see our pilot sinking at the helm,
And much already fear the vessel lost.
Enter Shepherd from Corinth.
Shep. Can you instruct me, strangers ! which way
lies
The palace of king CEdipus ? himself
I would most gladly see. Can you inform me? 870
Cho. This is the palace ; he is now within;
Thou seest his queen before thee.
Shep. Ever bless'd.
And happy with the happy mayst thou live !
Joe. Stranger ! the same good wish to thee, for well
Thy words deserve it : but say, wherefore comest
thou, 875
And what 's thy news ?
Shep. To thee, and to thy husband,
Pleasure and joy !
Joe. What pleasure ? and whence art thou ?
Shep. From Corinth : to be brief, I bring thee
tidings
Of good and evil.
Joe. Ha ! what mean thy words
282
SOPHOCLES.
880
Ambiguous ?
Shep. Know then, if report say trae,
The Isthmian people will choose CEdipus
Their sovereign.
Joe. Is not Polybus their king ?
Shep. No ; Polybus is dead.
Joe. What say'st thou ? dead ?
Shep. If I speak falsely, may death seize on me !
Joe. [to one of her attendants.] Why fly'st thou not
to tell thy master ? Hence ! 88^
What are you now, you oracles divine ?
Where is your truth ? The fearful CEdipus
From Corinth fled, lest he should slay the king,
This Polybus, who perish'd, not by him,
But by the hand of Heaven.
Enter CEdipus.
(jjjj^^ My dear Jocasta ! 890
Why hast thou call'd me hither ?
jq^^ Hear this man ;
And when thou hear'st him, mark what faith is due
To your revered oracles.
QgD,, What is he,
And what doth he report? ^ . .x
jqj. He comes from Corinth,
And says, thy father Polybus is dead. 895
CEdi. What say'st thou, stranger? Speak to me,
O ' sneak
Shep. If touching this thou flrstdesirest my answer.
Know, he is dead.
CEdi. How died he? Say, by treason.
Or some disease ?
Shep. Alas ! a little force
881 The people of Corinth; so called from the famous isth-
mus there.
(EDIPUS TYRANNUS. — ACT IV.
283
900
Will lay to rest the weary limbs of age.
CEdi. Distemper then did kill him ?
Shep. That in part.
And part a length of years that wore him down.
CEor. Now, my Jocasta ! who shall henceforth trust
To prophecies, and seers, and clamorous birds.
With their vain omens ; — they who had decreed 905
That I should kill my father ? He, thou seest,
Beneath the earth lies buried, whilst I live
In safety here, and guiltless of his blood :
Unless, perhaps, sorrow for the loss of me
Shorten'd his days, thus only could I kill 910
My father ; but, he 's gone, and to the shades
Hath carried with him those vain oracles
Of fancied ill, no longer worth my care.
Joe. Did I not say it would be thus ?
GEdi. Thou didst ;
But I was full of fears.
Joe. Henceforth, no more 915
Indulge them.
CEdi. But my mother's bed — that still
Must be avoided : I must fly from that.
Joe. Why should man fear, whom chance, and
chance alone
Doth ever rule ? Foreknowlege all is vain,
And can determine nothing: therefore best 920
It is to live as fancy leads, at large,
Uncurb'd, and only subject to our will.
Fear not thy mother's bed : ofttimes in dreams
Have men committed incest ; but his life
Will ever be most happy who contemns 925
Such idle phantoms.
CEdi. Thou wert right, Jocasta !
Did not my mother live ; but as it is,
Spite of thy words, I must be anxious still.
Joe. Think on thy father's death, it is a light
I
284
SOPHOCLES.
To guide thee here.
(Edi. It is so ; yet I fear, 939
Whilst she survives him.
Shep. Who is it you mean ?
What woman fear you ?
CEdi. Merope, the wife
Of Polybus.
Shep. And wherefore fear you her?
CEdi. Know, stranger ! a most dreadful oracle
Concerning her afifrights me.
Shep. May I know it, 935
Or must it be reveal'd to none but thee ?
OSdi. O, no, I '11 tell thee : Phoebus hath declared
That (Edipus should stain his mother's bed,
And dip his hands in his own father's blood ;
Wherefore I fled from Corinth, and lived here, 940
In happiness indeed ; but still thou know'st
It is a blessing to behold our parents,
And that I had not.
Shep. Was it for this cause
Thou wert an exile then ?
CEdi. It was : I fear'd
That I might one day prove my father's murderer. 945
Shep. What if I come, O king ! to banish hence
Thy terrors, and restore thy peace 1
CEdi. O stranger !
Couldst thou do this, I would reward thee nobly.
Shep. Know then, for this I came ; I came to
serve.
And make thee happy.
(Edi. But I will not go 950
Back to my parents.
Shep. Son, I see thou know'st not
What thou art doing.
CEdi. Wherefore think'st thou so ?
By Heaven, I beg thee then do thou instruct me.
CEDIPUS TYRANNUS.— ACT IV. 285
Shep. If thou didst fly from Corinth for this cause—
CEdi. Apollo's dire predictions still afi*right me. 955
Shep. Fear'st thou pollution from thy parents ^
(Edi. ;p|j^^
And that alone, I dread. '
^"E**- Thy fears are vain.
CEdi. Not if they are my parents.
„,^"^P- Polybus
Was not akin to thee.
^ ^^^- What say'st thou ? Speak :
aay, was not Polybus my father ?
XT^"^^* .r^ ^^5 960
No more than he is mine.
^^^' Why call me then '
His son ?
Shep. Because long since I gave thee to him :
He did receive thee from these hands.
^^^- Indeed !
And could he love another's child so well ?
Shep. He had no children ; that pursuaded him 965
To take and keep thee.
^^^' Didst thou buy me then,
Or am I thine, and must I call thee father ?
Shep. I found thee in Cithaeron's woody vale.
(Edi. What brought thee there P
S"EP- I came to feed my flocks
On the green mountain's side.
^^'' It seems thou wert 970
A wandering shepherd.
Shep. Thy deliverer ;
I saved thee from destruction.
^^^' How ! what then
Had happen'd to me ?
Shep. Thy own feet will best
Inform thee of that circumstance,
(Edi. Alas !
;
286
SOPHOCLES.
Why cairst thou to remembrance a misfortune 975
Of so long date P
Shep. 'Twas I who loosed the tendons
Of thy bored feet.
CEdi. It seems, in infancy
I suffer'd much then.
gHEp. To this incident
Thou owest thy name.
CEdi. My father or my mother,
Who did it P Know'st thou ?
gjjEP. He, who gave thee to me,
Must tell thee that.
(Edi. Then Vom another's hand 981
Thou didst receive me.
Shep. Ay, another shepherd.
OEdi. Who was he P Canst thou recollect ?
Shep. 'Twas one
At least so call'd, of Laius' family.
CEdi. Laius, who ruled at Thebes P
gjjEP^ The same : this man
Was shepherd to king Laius.
CEdi. hises he stilly 986
And could I see him P
Shep. [pointing to the Chorus,] Some of these, per-
haps.
His countrymen, may give you information.
CEdi. [to the Chorus.] O ! speak, my friends! if any
of you know
This shepherd; whether still he lives at Thebes, 990
Or in some neighboring country ; tell me quick,
For it concerns us near.
CJho. I* must be he
Whom thou didst lately send for : but the queen
079 (Edipus signifies, in the Greek, 'swelled foot ;' taking
his name from the sore and swelling of his foot.
(EDIPUS TYRANNUS.— ACT IV,
287
Can best inform thee.
CEdi. Know'st thou, my Jocasla!
Whether the man, whom thou didst order hither, 995
And whom the shepherd speaks of, be the same P
Joe. Whom meant he? for I know not. CEdipus!
Think not so deeply of this thing,
CEdi. Good Heaven
Forbid, Jocasta! I should now neglect
To clear my birth, when thus the path is mark'd 1000
And open to me.
Joe. Do not by the gods
1 beg thee, do not, if thy life be dear.
Make farther search, for I have felt enough
Already from it.
CEdi. Rest thou satisfied :
Were I descended from a race of slaves, 1005
'Twould not dishonor thee.
Joe, Yet hear me; do not,
Once more I beg thee do not search this matter.
CEdi, I will not be pursuaded : I must search,
And find it too.
Joe. I know it best, and best
Advise thee.
CEdi. That advice perplexes more. 1010
Joe. O ! would to Heaven that thou majst never
know
Or who or whence thou art !
CEdi. [tojhe attendant.] Let some one fetch
That shepherd quick, and leave this woman here
To glory in her high descent.
Joe. Alas !
Unhappy (Edipus ! that word alone 1015
I now can speak : rememember/tis my last.
[Exit Jocasta.
Cho. Why fled the queen in such disorder hence P
^1
288
SOPHOCLES.
CEDIPUS TYRANNUS. — ACT IV.
289
1020
1025
Sorely distressM she seem'd, and much I fear
Her silence bodes some sad event.
CEdi. Whatever
May come of that, I am resolved to know
The secret of my birth, how mean soever
It chance to prove : perhaps her sex's pride
May make her blush to find I was not born
Of noble parents ; but I call myself
The son of Fortune, my indulgent mother,
Whom I shall never be ashamed to own.
The kindred months, that are, like me, her children ;
The years, that roll obedient to her will,—
Have raised me from the lowest state to power
And splendor ; wherefore, being what I am, 1030
I need not fear the knowlege of my birth.
CHORUS.
STROPHE.
If my prophetic soul doth well divine,
Ere on thy brow to-morrow's sun shall shine,
Citharon ! thou the mystery shalt unfold :
The doubtful (Edipus, no longer blind, 1035
Shall soon his country and his father find,
And all the story of his birth be told :
Then shall we in grateful lays.
Celebrate our»monarch's praise 1039
And in the sprightly dance our songs triumphant
raise.
)^TISTR0PHE.
What heavenly power gave birth to thee, O king?
From Pan, the god of mountains, didst thou spring.
With some fair daughter of Apollo join'd ?
Art thou from him who o'er Cyllene reigns.
Swift Hermes, sporting in Arcadia's plains ? 1045
Some nymph of Helicon did Bacchus find ; —
Bacchus, who delights to rove
Through the forest, hill, and grove.
And art thou, prince, the ofispring of their love?
Enter CEdipus, Shepherd from Corinth,
(Edi. If I may judge of one whom yet I ne'er 1050
Had converse with, yon old man, whom I see
This way advancing, must be that same shepherd
We lately sent for, by his age and mien,
Ev'n as this stranger did describe him to us.
My servants too are with him ; but you best 1056
Can say, for you must know him well.
Cho. 'Tis he,
My lord ! the faithful shepherd of king Laius.
CEdi. [to the Shepherd from Corinth.'l What say'st
thou, stranger ! is it he ?
Shep. It is.
E7iter Old Shepherd.
CEdi. Now answer me, old man ! look this way ;
speak ;
Didst thou belong to Laius ?
O. Shep. Sir, I did : 1060
No hireling slave, but in his palace bred,
I served him long.
CEdi. What was thy business there f
O. Shep. For my life's better part I tended sheep.
GGdi. And whither didst thou lead them ?
O. Shep. To Cithaeron,
And to the neighboring plains.
CEdi. Behold this man ; 1065
[pointing to the Shepherd of Corinth,
Dost thou remember to have seen him ?
O. Shep. Whom?
50PH. T
■■•; >■'
«•;
290
SOPHOCLES.
What hath he done ?
OSdi. Him who now stands before thee ; —
Call'st thou to mind or converse or connexion
Between you in times past P
O. Shep. I cannot say
I recollect it now,
Shep. I do not wonder 1070
He should forget me ; but I will recall
Some facts of ancient date : he must remember, '
When on Cithaeron we together fed
Our several flocks, in daily converse join'd.
From spring to autumn, and when winter bleak 1075
Approached, retired : I to my little cot
ConveyM my sheep, he to the palace led
His fleecy care. Canst thou remember this ?
O. Shep. I do, but that is long since.
Shep. It is so ;
But say, good shepherd ! canst thou call to mind 1080
An infant, whom thou didst deliver to me,
Requesting me to breed him as my own ?
O. Shep. Ha ! wherefore ask'st thou this ?
Shep. [pointing to CEdipusJ\ Behold him here.
That very child,
O. Shep. O ! say it not ; away !
Perdition on thee !
CEdi. Why reprove him thus P 1085
Thou art thyself to blame, old man !
O. Shep. In what
Am I to blame, my lord ?
GEdi. , Thou wilt not speak
Touching this boy.
O. Shep. Alas, poor man ! he knows not
What he hath said.
GSdi. If not by softer means
To be persuaded, force shall wring it from thee. 1090
(EDIPUS TYRANNUS. — ACT IV.
291
O. Shep. Treat not an old man harshly.
CEdi. [to the Attendants,^ Bind his hands.
O. Shep. Wherefore, my lord ? What wouldst thou
have me do P
CEdi. That child he talks of, didst thou give it to
him ?
O. Shep. I did, and would to Heaven I then had
died!
CEdi. Die soon thou shalt, unless thou telPst it
all. 1095
O. Shep. Say, rather, if I do.
CEdi. This fellow means
To trifle with us, by his dull delay.
O. Shep. I do not : said I not, I gave the child P
CEdi. Whence came the boy P Was he thy own, or
who
Did give him to thee P
O. Shep. From another hand 1100
I had received him.
CEdi, Say, what hand P from whom ?
Whence came he P
O. Shep. Do not, by the gods ! I beg thee,
Do not inquire.
CEdi. Force me to ask again.
And thou shalt die.
O. Shep, In Laius' palace born.
CEdi. Son of a slave, or of the king P
O. Shep. Alas ! 1 105
'Tis death for me to speak.
CEdi. And me to hear ;
Yet say it.
O. Shep. He was calPd the son of Laius ;
But ask the queen, for she can best inform thee.
CEdi. Did she then give the child to thee ?
O. Shep. She did.
i
292
SOPHOCLES.
11
CEdi. For what ?
O. Shep. To kill him.
CEdi. Kill her child f Inhuman lilO
And barbarous mother !
O. Shep. A dire oracle
Aflfrighted and constrained her to it.
(Edi. Ha!
What oracle? ^_, ,
O. Shep. Which said, her son should slay
His parents. .
OEdi. Wherefore gavest thou then the infant
To this old shepherd ?
O, Shep. Pity moved me to it : 11 15
I hoped he would have soon convey'd his charge
To some far-distant country : he, alas !
Preserved him but for misery and wo ;
For, O my lord ! if thou indeed art he,
Thou art of all mankind the most unhappy. 1120
(Edi. O me ! at length the mystery *s unravell'd:
Tis plain ; 'tis clear ; my fate is all determined.
Those are ray parents who should not have been
Allied to me : she is my wife, ev'n she,
Whom nature had forbidden me to wed : 1125
I have slain him who gave me life, and now
Of thee, O light! I take my last farewell,
For (Edipus shall ne'er behold thee more, [Exeunt,
chorus,
strophe I.
O, hapless state of human race !
How quick the fleeting shadows pass
Of transitory bliss below.
Where all is vanity and wo !
By thy example taught, O prince ! we see
Man was not made for true felicity.
1130
(EDIPUS TYRANNUS. — ACT V.
293
ANTISTROPHE I.
Thou, CEdipus ! beyond the rest 1135
Of mortals wert supremely bless'd ;
Whom every hand conspired to raise,
Whom every hand rejoiced to praise ;
When from the sphinx thy all-preserving hand
Stretch'd forth its aid to save a sinking land. 1140
STROPHE n.
Thy virtues raised thee to a throne.
And grateful Thebes was all thy own :
Alas ! how changed that glorious name !
Lost are thy virtues and thy fame.
How couldst thou thus pollute thy father's bed ? 1145
How couldst thou thus thy hapless mother wed ?
ANTISTROPHE II.
How could that bed unconscious bear
So long the vile, incestuous pair?
But Time, of quick and piercing sight.
Hath brought the horrid deed to light : 1 150
At length Jocasta owns her guilty flame,
And finds a husband and a child the same.
EPODE.
Wretched son of Laius ! thee
Henceforth may I never see ;
But absent shed the pious tear, 1155
And weep thy fate with grief sincere !
For thou didst raise our eyes to life and light.
To close them now in everlasting night. [Exetmt,
' ' ;''J
i i
ACT V.
Messenger, Chorus.
Mes. Sages of Thebes, most honor'd and revered !
If e'er the house of Labdacus was dear ^ 1180
294
SOPHOCLES.
And precioas to you, what will be your grief,
WbeD I shall tell the most disastrous tale
You ever heard, and to your eyes present
A spectacle more dreadful than they yet
Did e'er behold? Not the wide Danube's waves, 1165
Nor Phasis' stream, can wash away the stains
Of this polluted palace. The dire crimes,
Long time conceard, at length are brought to light ;
But those which spring from voluntary guilt
Are still more dreadful.
Cho. Nothing can be worse 1170
Than what we know already; bring'st thou more
Misfortunes to us ?
Mes. To be brief, the queen,
Jocasta, *s dead.
Cho. Say, by what hand ?
Mes. Her own ;
And, what 's more dreadful, no one saw the deed ;
What I myself beheld, you all shall hear. 1176
Inflamed with rage, soon as she reach'd the palace,
Instant retiring to the nuptial bed.
She shut the door, then raved and tore her hair,
Called out on Laius dead, and bade him think
On that unhappy son who murderM him, 1180
And stain'd his bed : then, turning her sad eyes
Upon the guilty couch, she cursed the place
Where she had borne a husband from her husband,
And children from her child : what foUowM then
I know not, by the cries of CEdipus 1185
Prevented, for on him our eyes were fix'd
Attentive : forth he came, beseeching us
To lend him some sharp weapon, and inform him
1165 The Ister or Danube is one of the most considerable
rivers in Europe ; which, passing by Illyricum, runs into the
Euxine sea. Fbasis was a famous river in Colchis.
(EDIPUS TYRANNUS. — ACT V.
295
1190
1196
1200
Where he might find his mother and his wife ;
His children's wretched mother, and his own.
Some ill-designing power did then direct him
(For we were silent) to the queen's apartment :
Forcing the bolt, he rush'd unto the bed.
And found Jocasta, where we all beheld her,
Entangled in the fatal noose ; which, soon
As he perceived, loosing the pendent rope.
Deeply he groan'd ; and, casting on the ground
His wretched body, show'd a piteous sight
To the beholders. On a sudden thence
Starting, he pluck'd from off the robe she wore
A golden buckle, that adorn'd her side.
And buried in his eyes the sharpen'd point,
Crying, he ne'er again would look on her.
Never would see his crimes or miseries more.
Or those whom, guiltless, he could ne'er behold, 1205
Or those to whom he now must sue for aid.
His lifted eye-lids then, repeating still
These dreadful plaints, be tore ; whilst down his cheeks
Fell showers of blood : such fate the wretched pair
Sustain'd, partakers in calamity ; 1210
Fallen from a state of happiness, (for none
Were happier once than they) to groans and death,
Reproach, and shame, and every human wo.
Cho. And where is now the poor, unhappy man ?
Mes. * Open the doors,' he cries, ' and let all
Thebes
Behold his parents' murderer V adding words
Not to be uttered : banish'd now, he says,
He must be, nor, devoted as he is
By his own curse, remain in this sad place.
He wants a kind conductor, and a friend
To help him now, for 'tis too much to bear.
But you will see him soon ; for, lo ! the doors
1215
1220
t ».
196
SOPHOCLES.
Are open'd, and you will behold a sight
That would to pity move his deadliest foe.
Enter CEdipus.
Cho. O horrid sight ! more dreadful spectacle ' 1225
Than e'er these eyes beheld ! What madness urged
thee
To this sad deed? What power malignant heap'd ]
On thy poor head such complicated wo P
Unhappy man \ Alas ! I would have held
Some converse with thee, but thy looks afright me :
I cannot bear to speak to thee.
(Edi. O me ! 1231
Where am I, and whence comes the voice I hear ?
Where art thou, fortune ?
Cho. Changed to misery,
Dreadful to hear, and dreadful to behold.
CEdi. O cruel darkness ! endless, hopeless, night ;
Shame, terrors, and unutterable wo ! 1236
More painful is the memory of my crimes
Than all the wounds my wild distraction made.
Cho. Thus doubly cursed, O prince ! I wonder not
At thy affliction.
QSdi. Art thou here, my friend ? 1240
I know thy voice : thou wouldst not leave the wretched ;
Thou art my faithful, kind assistant still.
Cho. How couldst thou thus deprive thyself of sight ?
What madness drove thee to the desperate deed ?
What god inspired ?
(£di. Apollo was the cause ; 1245
He was, ray friends I the cause of all my woes ;
Bat for these eyes, myself did quench their light ;
1245 By delivering the oracle, which foretold that (Edipus
should kill his father, and afterwardB pronouncing the dread-
ful sentence against the murderer.
(EDIPUS TYRANNUS. — ACT IV.
297
1 want not them. What use were they to me,
But to discover scenes of endless wo ?
Cho. 'Tis but too true.
CEm. What pleasure now remains 1250
For GBdipus ? He cannot joy in aught
To sight or ear delightful. Curse on him,
Whoe'er he was, that loosen'd my bound feet.
And saved me, in Cithaeron's vale,' from death !
I owe him nothing ; had I perish'd then, 1255
Much happier had it been for you, my friends!
And for myself.
Cho. I too could wish thou hadst.
CEdi. I should not then have murdered Laius ; then
I had not taken Jocasta to my bed ;
But now I am a guilty wretch, the son 1260
Of a polluted mother, father now
To my own brother : all that 's horrible
To nature is the lot of CEdipus.
Cho. Yet must I blame this cruel act ; for, sure,
The loss of sight is worse than death itself. 1265
GEdi. I care not for thy counsel or thy praise ;
For with what eyes could I have e'er beheld
My honer'd father in the shades below,
Or my unhappy mother, both destroy'd
By me? This punismentis worse than death.
And so it should be. Sweet had been the sight
Of my dear children : them I could have wish'd
To gaze on ; but I must never see.
Or them, or this fair city, or the palace
Where I was born : deprived of every bliss
By my own lips, which doom'd to banishment
The murderer of Laius, and expell'd
The impious wretch, by gods and men accursed ; —
Could I behold them after this ? O, no.
Would I could now with equal ease remove 1280
1270
1275
296
SOPHOCLES.
1285
My hearing too, be deaf as well as blind,
And from another entrance shut out wo !
To want our senses, in the hour of ill,
Is comfort to the wretched. O Cithaeron !
Why didst thou e*er receive rae, or, received,
Why not destroy, that men might never know
Who gave me birth ? O Polybus ! O Corinth !
And thou, long time believed my father's palace !
O ! what a foul disgrace to human nature
Didst thou receive beneath a prince's form ! 1290
Impious myself, and from an irapious'race.
Where is my splendor now ? O Daulian path !
The shady forest, and the narrow pass
Where three ways meet, who drank a father's blood.
Shed by these hands ; do you not still remember 1295
The horrid deed, and what, when here I came,
Follow'd more dreadful ? Fatal nuptials ! you
Produced me, you return'd me to the womb
That bare me ; thence relations horrible
Of fathers, sons, and brothers came ; of wives,
Sisters, and mothers, sad alliance ! all
That man holds impious and detestable.
But what in act is vile, the modest tongue
Should never name. Bury me, hide me, friends !
From every eye ; destroy me, cast me forth 1305
To the wide ocean ; let me perish there ;
Do any thing to shake off hated life :
Seize me ; approach, my friends ! yoo need not fear,
Polluted though I am, to touch me ! N one
Shall suffer for my crimes but I alone. 1310
1288 That is, the palace of Polybus, king of Corinth, the
supposed father of (Edipus, who brought him up as his own,
and educated him accordingly.
1308 Alluding to a superstitious notion amongst the an-
cients, that it was dangerous even to touch [an accursed per-
ion, or one seemingly visited with misfortunes by the gods.
1300
(EDIPUS TYRANNUS. — ACT V.
199
Cho. In most fit time, my lord ! the noble Creon
This way advances : he can best determine,
And best advise ; sole guardian now of Thebes,
To him thy power devolves.
CEdi. What shall I say ?
Can I apply to him for aid, whom late 1315
I deeply injured by unjust suspicion?
[JE?x»* Messenger.
Enter Creon.
Cre. I come not, prince ! to triumph o'er thy woes
With vile reproach ; I pity thy misfortunes :
But, O my Thebans ! if you do not fear
The censure of your fellow-citizens, 1320
At least respect the all-creating eye
Of Phoebus, who beholds you thus exposing
To public view a wretch accursed, polluted.
Whom neither earth can bear, nor sun behold.
Nor holy shower besprinkle. Take him hence, 1325
Within the palace : those, who are by blood
United, should alone be witnesses
Of such calamity.
CEdi. O Creon ! thou,
The best of men, and I, the worst ; how kind
Thou art to visit me ! O ! by the gods ! 1330
Let me intreat thee, since, beyond my hopes.
Thou art so good, now hear me : what I ask
Concerns thee most.
Cre. What is it thou desirest
Thus ardently ?
(Edi. I beg thee, banish me ^
From Thebes this moment, to some land remote, 1335
Where I may ne'er converse with man again.
Crf. Myself long since had done it, but the gods
Must be consulted first. f
CEdi. Their will is known
300
SOPHOCLES.
/
Already, and their oracle declared
The guilty parricide should die.
Crk. • It hath; 1340
But, as it is, 'twere better to inquire
What must be done.
CEdi. For such a wretch as I,
Wouldst thou again explore the will of Heaven ?
Cre. Thy hapless fate should teach us to believe
And reverence the gods.
CEdi. Now, Creon ! list; 1345
I beg thee, I conjure thee, let a tomb
Be raised, and all due honors paid to her
Who lies within : she was thy sister, Creon !
It is a duty which thou owest : for me,
I cannot hope this city now will deign 1350
To keep me here. O Creon ! let me go.
And seek the solitary mountain's top.
My own Cithaeron, by my parents doom'd
Long since to be the grave of CEdipus :
There would I die, as they decreed I should. 1355
Alas ! I cannot, must not perish yet,
Till I have suflfer'd evils worse than death,
For I was only saved to be unhappy :
But I must meet my fate whatever it be.
My sons are men, and, wheresoever fortune 136*0
May place them, cannot want the means of life :
They shall not burden thee ; but, O my friend !
What will become of my unhappy daughters.
With tenderest love, beneath a father's hand
Cherish'd so long ? O ! take them to thy care, 1365
Thou best of men ! O ! might I but embrace them,
But shed a tear o'er their disastrous fate;
Might I be suflfer'd but to touch them here ; —
I shoul rejoice, and think I saw them still.
But, hark ! methinks e'en now I hear the voice 1370
CEDIPUS TYRANNUS. — ACT V. 301
Of my dear daughters. Hath the gracious Creon^
In pity to my woes, already brought
My children to me ? Is it so ?
Cre. It is :
Thy wishes are prevented ; they are here.
Enter Daughters of CEdipus.
CEdi. May Heaven reward thee for this goodness
to me, 1375
And give thee much more bliss than I have known !
Now, my dear children ! come towards me, come
Towards your father and your brother ; see
These sightless eyes, pierced by my own mad hands ;
Behold that wretched father who begat you 1380
Unknowingly on her who gave me birth.
I cannot see you now ; I can but weep
Your fate, to think what hours of wretchedness
You have to know hereafter. Whither now
Must my poor children fly ? From every feast, 1385
Joyless, with grief and shame, shall you return ;
And when the time shall come, when riper years
Should give you to the nuptial bed, who then,
Careless of fame, will let his child partake
The infamy of my abhorred race, 1390
Sprung from a wretch accursed, who kill'd his fa-
ther,
And from the womb that bare him did beget
You, my unhappy daughters ? Such reproach
Must still be yours, to virgin solitude
Devoted ever, and a barren bed. 1395
Son of Menoeceus ! thou alone art left
Their father now ; for, O ! Jocasta 's dead,
And I am nothing : do not then forsake
Thy kindred ; nor, deserted and forlorn.
Suffer them still, in penury and wo, 1400
,y
H
sm
SOPHOCLES.
To wander helpless, in their tender age.
Remember, they have no support but thee.
generous prince ! have pity on them ; give me
Thy friendly hand in promise of thy aid.
To you, my daughters ! had your early years 1405
Permitted, I had given my last advice :
Too young for counsel, all I ask of you.
Is but to pray the gods that my sad life
May not be long ; but yours, my children ! crown*d
With many days, and happier far than mine. 1410
Cre. It is enough ; go in ; thy grief transports thee
Beyond all bounds.
CEd!. 'Tis hard, but I submit.
Cre. The time demands it ; therefore go.
(Edi. O Creon !
Know'st thou what now I wish ?
Cre. What is it? Speak.
CEdi. That I may quit this fatal place.
Cr£^ Thou ask'st
What Heaven alone can grant.
OSdi. Alas! to Heaven 1416
1 am most hateful.
Cre.
What thou desirest.
(Edi.
Cre.
I never say aught that I do not mean.
CEdi. Then let me go : may I depart ?
Cre. Thou mayst ;
But leave thy children.
(Edi. Do not take them from me.
Cre. Thou must not always have thy will ; already
Thou hast suflFer'd for it.
Cho. Thebans ! now behold
The great, the mighty CEdipus, who once
Yet shalt tliou obtain
Shall I indeed ?
Thou shalt ;
1419
-. iEDlPUS TYRANNUS. — ACT V. 303
The sphinx's dark enigma could unfold; 1435
Who less to fortune than to wisdom own*d ;
In virtue, as in rank, to all superior;
Yet fallen at last to deepest misery.
Let mortals, hence, be taught to look beyond
The present time, nor dare to say a man 1430
Is happy, till the last decisive hour
Shall close his life without the taste of wo.
' C
t i
i
H
II
m
CEDIPUS COLONEUS.
DRAMATIS PERSONS,
CEdipus. )
Creon.
Antigone, ) daughters of (Edipus.
ISMENE, '
PoLYNiCES, son of (Edipus.
Theseds, king of Athens>
An Athenian.
Messenger.
Attendants on Creon, Theseus, and Ismene.
Chorus, composed of ancient men of Thebes,
ARGUMENT.
This tragedy is a continuation of the history of CEdipus ; who,
condemned to perpetual banishment from Thebes, arrived
at last, with his daughter Antigone, at Colonus, a little hiU
in the neighborhood of Athens, sacred to the Furies, where
he solicited and obtained the protection of king Theseus.
In this retreat he was overtaken by his daughter Ismene.
In the mean time, Creon, having learned from the oracle
that prosperity awaited the country which should possess
the bones of CEdipus, endeavoured to remove him by m-
treaty or force ; but the power of Theseus soon compeUed
him to relinquish the attempt. At this juncture Polymccs
arrived, with the design of reconciling his father to his in-
tended invasion of Thebes ; but the exiled monarch uttered
the bitterest imprecations on his impious purpose, and pro-
phesied the horrible fate which awaited him. Finding his
«id fast approaching, he sent for Theseus, and informed
him that an uninterrupted course of prosperity would betail
Athens so long as his burial-place was revealed to no one
but the reigning monarch of the country. Having then dis-
missed his daughters, and being left alone with Theseus
he resigned himself to his fate ; while the king faithfully
compUed with his injunptious of concealing the circumstances
of his death and interment.
ACT I.
Scene a grove, at the entrance to the temple of the Furies,
(EDIPUS, ANTIGONE.
CEdi. Where are we now, my dear Antigone ?
Know'st thou the palace ? Will any here afford
308
SOPtlOCLBS.
Their scanty alms to a poor wanderer,
The banish'd CEdipus ? I ask not much,
Yet less receiye ; but I am satisfied : 6
Long time hath made my woes familiar to me,
And I have learn'd to bear calamity.
But tell me, daughter ! if thou seest a place
Or sacred, or profane, where I may rest :
There set me down ; from some inhabitant 10
A chance but we may learn where now we are,
And act (so strangers ought) as he directs us.
Ant. O, CEdipus ! my poor, unhappy father !
Far as my eyes can reach, I see a city.
With lofty turrets crown'd ; and, if I err not, 15
This place is sacred, by the laurel shade
Olive and vine thick planted, and the songs
Of nightingale sweet warbling through the grove.
Here sit thee down, and rest thy wearied limbs
On this rude stone ; 'tis a long^way^for age 20
Like thine to travel.
CEdi. Place me here, and guard
A sightless wretch.
Ant. Alas ! at such a time
Thou need*st not tell Antigone her duty.
CEdi. Know'st thou not where we are ?
Ant. As I have learn 'd
From passing travellers, not far from Athens ; 25
The place J. know not. Would you that I go,
And straight inquire? But now I need not leave
thee,
For, lo ! a stranger comes this way ; ev'n now
He stands before you : he will soon inform us.
Enter an Athenian.
(£du Stranger ! thou comest in happy hour to tell
us 30
What much we wish to know ; let me then ask thee— -
CEDIPUS COLONEUS. — ACT 1.
309
Ath. Ask nothing; speak not till thou art re-
moved
From off that hallow'd spot where now thou stand'st.
By human footsteps not to be profaned,
CEdi. To whom then is it sacred ?
Ath. 'Tis a place, 35
Where but to tread is impious, and to dwell
Forbidden; where the dreadful goddesses,
Daughters of Earth and Night, alone inhabit.
CEdi. Ha ! let me hear their venerable names.
Ath. By other names in other climes adored, 40
The natives here call them Eumenides,
The all-seeing Powers.
CEdi. O ! that they would but smile
Propitious, and receive a suppliant's prayer,
That I might never leave this bless'd abode !
Ath. What dost thou mean ?
GEdi. It suits my sorrows well. 45
Ath. I must inform the citizens ; till then
Remain.
CEdi. O ! do not scorn a wretched exile.
But tell me, stranger !
Ath. Speak ; I scorn thee not.
CEdi. What place is this ?
Ath, I 'II tell thee what I know.
This place is sacred all ; great Neptune here 60
Presides, and he who bears the living fire,
Titan Prometheus ; where thou tread'st, is called
37 These dreadful goddesses were the three Furies, Alecto,
Megsera, and Tisiphone.
52 Prometheus, according to the tales of the heathens con-
cerning him, was supposed to have stolen fire from heaven,
and with it to have made men ; for which impiety he was
punished by the gods in the same manner as the rebellious
Titans : he is therefore called, in this place, Titan Prome-
theus.
m
'^i
310
SOPHOCLES.
The brazen way, the bulwark of our state :
From this equestrian hill, their safest guard,
The neighboring villagers their general name 66
Derive, thence caird Colonians all.
CEdi. But say,
Are there, who dwell here then ?
Ath. There arc, and calFd
From him they worship.
CEdi. Is the power supreme
Lodged in the people's voice, or in the king ?
Ath. 'Tis in the king.
CEdi. Who is he?
Ath. Theseus, son 60
Of ^geus, their last sovereign.
CEdi. Who will go
And tell him
Ath. What, to come and meet thee here?
CEdf. To tell him that a little help bestow'd
Would amply be repaid.
Ath. Why, what couldst thou do,
Dark as thou art ?
CEdi. My words will not be so. 65
Ath. Then mark me, that thou err not; for to
me
Thy fortune seems ill-suited to thy nature.
Which is most noble ; therefore stay thou here
Till I return ; I will not go to Athens,
But ask these villagers, who sojourn here, 70
If thou mayst stay. [Exit Athenian.
CEdi. My daughter ! is he gone ?
Ant. He is, and thou mayst safely speak, for I
63 Near this brazen way was supposed to be the passage to
Hades, or the shades, by which Pluto conveyed the ravished
Proserpine to his dominions.
CEDIPUS COLONEUS.— ACT I.
311
Alone am with thee.
(-gjj, Goddesses revered !
Since in your seats my wearied steps have found
Their first repose, not inauspicious smile
On Phoebus and on me ! For, know, the god,
Who 'gainst unhappy CEdipus denounced
Unnumber'd woes, foretold that here at last
I should have rest, within this hallow'd grove,
These hospitable shades, and finish here
A life of misery. * Happy those,' he said,
' Who should receive me, glorious their reward ;
And wo to them who strove to drive me hence
Inhuman : this he promised to confirm
By signs undoubted ; thunder, or the sound
Of dreadful earthquake, or the lightning s blast
Launcb'd from the arm of Jove : I doubt it not.
From you some happy omen hither led
My prosperous steps. That first to you I came
Pure to the pure, and here on this rude seat
Reposed me, could not be the work of chance.
Wherefore, ye Powers! as Poebus hath decreed,
Here let me find a period of my woes.
Here end my wretched life ; unless the man,
Who lotig hath groan'd beneath the bitterest ills
That mortals feel, still seem to merit more.
Daughters of ancient Night ! O, hear me now !
And thou, from great Minerva call'd, the best
And noblest city, Athens ! pity me ;
Pity the shadow of poor CEdipus !
For O ! I am not what I was.
Ant. No more ;
Behold, a venerable band approach
Of ancient natives, come perchance to seek thee.
CEdi. I've done ; Antigone! remove me hence.
And hide me in the grove, till, by their words.
75
i
80
86
90
95
100
m
105
312
SOPHOCLES.
Listening I learn their purpose ; such foreknowlege
Will best direct us how to act hereafter. [Exeunt,
Enter Chorus.
Cho. Where is he ? Look, examine, search around
For this abandon'd exile, of mankind
The most profane, doubtless some wretched stranger :
Who else had dared on this forbidden soil 111
To tread, where dwell the dreadful deities
We tremble ev'n to name ; and as we pass,
Dare not behold, but silently revere.
Or soft with words of fairest omen greet ? 115
Of these regardless, here we come to find
An impious wretch. I look around the grove,
But still he lurks unseen.
Enter CEdipus, Antigone.
^i>i. Behold me here ;
For by your words I find you look for me.
Cho. [looking stedfasthj at him,'] Dreadful his
voice, and terrible his aspect ! 120
(Edi. I am no outlaw ; do not look thus on me.
Cho. Jove the defender ! Who is this old man ?
(Edi. One on whom Fortune little hath bestow'd
To call for reverence from you ; that, alas ;
Is but too plain ; thus by another's eyes 125
Conducted here, and on her aid depending.
Old as I am.
Cho. Alas ! and wert thou born
Thus sightless ? Full of sorrow and of years
Indeed thou seem'st ; but do not let on us
Thy curse devolve: thou hast trangress'd the bounds
Prescribed to mortals : shun this hallow'd grove, 131
Where, on the grassy surface, to the powers
A welcome offering flows, with honey mixed,
CEDIPUS COLONEUS. — ACT I.
313
135
The limpid stream ; unhappy stranger ! hence,
Away, begone : thou seest 'tis a long space
Divides us. Dost thou hear me, wretched exile ?
This instant, if thou dost, depart ; then speak,
But not before.
CEdi. Antigone, my daughter !
What's to be done?
Ant. Obey the citizens ;
Give me thy hand.
(Edi. I will ; and now, my friends ! 140
Confiding thus in you, aud thus removing.
As you directed, let me not be injured.
Cho. Thou shalt not : be assured, that thou art safe ;
None shall oflFend or drive thee hence.
CEdi. Yet more
Must I approach ?
Cho. a little farther still. 145
(Edi. Will this suffice ?
Cho. Remove him this way, virgin !
Thou hear'st us.
Ant. Thou must follow me, my father !
Weak as thou art : we are unhappy strangers,
And must submit : whate'er the city hates
Content to hate, and what she loves to love. 150
(Edi. Lead me, my daughter ! to some hallow'd spot
For mutual converse fit, nor let us strive
With dire necessity.
Cho. Stop there, nor move
Beyond that stone.
(Edi. Thus then P
Cho. It is enough.
(Edi. Where shall I sit ?
Cho. a little forward lean 155
And rest thee there. [taking hold of him.
Ant. Alas ! 'tis my sad office
dl4
SOPHOCLES.
m
(Let me perform it) to direct thy steps ;
To this loved hand commit thy aged limbs :
I will be careful. [she seats him on a stone*
CEoi. O aohappy state !
Cho. Now wretched stranger ! tell us who thou art,
Thy country and thy name.
^Di. Alas, my lords ! 161
A poor, abandonM exile ; but, O ! do not
Cho. What say'st thou ?
CEdi. Do not ask me who I am ;
Inquire no farther.
Cho. Wherefore ?
CEdi. My sad race
Cho. Speak on.
QSdi. [turning to Antigone.'] My daughter! how shall
I proceed ? 165
Cho. Thy race, thy father—
CEdi. O Antigone !
WhatdoIsuflFer?
Ant. Speak, thou canst not be
More wretched than thou art.
CEdi. I will, for, O !
It cannot be conceaPd.
Cho. You do delay j
Inform us straight.
CEdi. Know you the son of Laius ? 170
Cho. Alas !
CEdi. The race of Labdacus ?
Cho, O Jove !
CEdi. The unhappy CEdipus.
Cho. And art thou he ?
CEdi. Be not a£frighted at my words.
Cho. O Heaven !
CEOi. Wretch that I am ! What will become of
me?
(EDIPUS COLONEUS. — ACT I.
315
185
190
Cho. Away ! begone ! fly from this place !
Qjjji Then where 175
Are all your promises ? are they forgotten ? .
Cho. Justice divine will never punish those
Who but repay the injury they receive ;
And fraud doth merit fraud for its reward.
Wherefore begone, and leave us, lest once more 180
Our city be compell'd to force thee hence.
Ant. O my kind friends ! as you revere the name
Of virtue, though you will not hear the prayers
Of my unhappy father, worn with age.
And laden with involuntary crimes ;
Yet hear the daughter pleading for her sire,
And pity her, who with no evil eye
Beholds you, but, as one of the same race,
Born of one common father, here intreats
Your mercy to the unhappy ; for on you.
As on some god alone, we must rely.
Then grant this wish'd-for boon ; O ! grant it now ;
By all that's dear to thee, thy sacred word,
Thy interest, thy children, and thy god ;
'Tis not in mortals to avoid the crime 195
Which Heaven hath pre-ordain'd.
Cho. We pity thee.
Daughter of (Edipus ! we pity hira.
And his misfortunes; but, of wrath divine
Still fearful, dare not alter our decree.
(Edi. Now who shall trust to glory and fair fame?
What shall it profit, that your pious city 201
Was once for hospitable riles renowned.
That she alone would pity and relieve
The afflicted stranger ? Is she so to me.
Who drives me hence, and trembles at a name ? 205
Me you can never fear ; and for my crimes,
I am the sufferer, not the offender. What
I
316
SOPHOCLES.
Touching my father I have spoke, (alas !
If 'tis for that you do abhor me thus)
Was I to blame ? The injury received 210
I but repaid, and therefore had I known
The crime I acted, I were guiltless still.
Whither I came, I came unknowingly ;
Not so they acted who have banish'd me.
By your commands already here removed, 215
O ! by the gods, preserve, assist me now :
If you revere them, do not thus despise
What they decree ; their eyes behold the good,
And view the evil man, nor shall the wicked
Escape their wrath : use not their sacred names 220
To cover crimes, and stain the fame of Athens.
As you received the suppliant, O ! remember
Your plighted faith, preserve me, save me now ;
Look not contemptuous on this wretched form.
Or cast reproach unmerited : I come 225
Nor impious nor profane ; and with me bring
To Athens much of profit and renown.
As, when your king arrives, you all shall know :
Meantime despise me not.
Cho. Old man ! thy words
Are full of weight, and merit our observance. 2^30
If those who here preside but know thy purpose,
It doth suffice.
CEdi. But say, where is the king ?
C«o. Within his palace ; but a messenger
Is gone to fetch him hither.
CEdi. O my friends !
Think you a sightless wretch like me will move 235
His pity or his care, that he will come P
Cho. Most readily, when he shall hear the name
Of CEdipus.
CEdi. And who shall tell it him ?
CEDIPUS COLONEUS . — ACT I.
317
250
Cho. The journey 's long ; but passing travellers
Will catch the tale, and he must hear it soon. 240
Fear not; thy story is already known
On every side ; Hwill quicken his slow steps,
And bring him instant hither.
CEdi. May he come
In happy hour to Athens and to me ! 244
He will ; what good man doth not love his country ?
Ant. O Jove ! what shall I say or think ? My fa-
ther!
(Edi. What says my daughter ?
Ant. This way bent, behold.
On a Sicilian steed, a woman comes,
Her face conceal'd by a Thessalian veil,
To shield her from the sun. Am I deceived,
Or is it she ? I know not what to think.
It is my sister ; now she smiles upon me :
It must, it can be none but my Ismene.
CEdi. Who ? my Antigone ?
Ant. It is thy daughter.
My sister ; but her voice will soon convince thee. 255
Enter Ismene and Attendant.
Ism. O the sweet sounds ! a father and a sister !
What pains have I not sufier'd in the search.
And now for grief can scarce behold you !
CEdi. O
My daughter ! art thou here ?
Ism. Alas, my father !
How terribly thou look'st !
CEdi. From the same blood 260
The father and the daughter. •
Ism. Wretched race !
CEdi. And art thou come, my daughter?
IsM« I have reach'd thee
I;
I
318
SOPHOCLES.
With toil and labor.
CEdi. Touch me, O my child !
Ism. Let me embrace you both.
Qgjj, Both miserable !
Ism. [they all embrace.] Join then a third as wretched
as yourselves. '^^
(Edi. Ismene ! wherefore art thou come?
IsM. My care
For thee, my father ! brought me here.
CEdi. ^°^ ™^ •
Ism. That I might speak to thee i this faithful slave
Alone conducted me. [pointing to her Attendant.
CEdi. Thy brothers, say,
What are they doing ?
Ism, They are what they are ; 270
For, O ! between them deadliest discord reigns.
CEdi. How like the unmanly sons of Egypt's clime,
Where the men sit inglorious at the loom.
And to their wives leave each domestic care !
Ev'n thus, my sons ! who should have labor'd for me.
Like women idly sit at home, whilst you 276
Perform their office, and with filial care
Attend a wretched father : this kind maid,
[jpointing to Antigone.
Ev'n from her infant days, hath wander'd long
An exile with me, and supported still
My feeble age : oft through the savage woods,
Naked and hungry, by the wintry storms,
Or scorching heats afflicted, led me on,
And gave me food, unmindful of her own.
Thou too, Ismene ! wert my faithful guard.
When I was driven forth ; and now art come
To tell thy father what the gods declare.
A stranger now to Thebes, I know not what
Hath pass'd between them : thou hast some sad news,
I
280
286
(EDIPUS COLONEUS. — ACT I.
319
295
300
305
I know thou hast, to tell thy wretched father. 200
Ism. What I have suffer'd in the search of thee,
I pass in silence o'er, since to repeat
Were but, alas ! to double my misfortunes.
I only came to tell thee the sad fate
Of thy unhappy sons ; awhile they seem'd
As if they meant to yield the throne to Creon, '
Nor stain their guilty hands with Tlieban blood,
Mindful of that pollution which remained
On thy devoted race ; but now some god.
Or their own wicked minds, have raised a flame
Of dire contention, which shall gain the power
Supreme, and reign in Thebes : Eteocles
Hath drove his elder Polynices forth.
Who, now an exile, seeks (as Fame reports)]
The Argians, and, in solemn contract join'd
With these his new allies, would raise their fame
Above the stars, and sink our Thebes in ruin.
These are not words alone, 'tis now in act.
Alas ! ev'n now I fear ; nor know I when
The gods will take compassion on thy woes.
CEdi. Hast thou no hope they 'll.pity me?
Ism.
Their oracles have said it.
CEdi. Ha ! said what,
My daughter ? Tell me, what have they declared ?
IsM. The time would come, they said, when Thebes
once more
Must seek thee, dead or living, for her safety. 315
CEdi. Why, what could such a wretch as I do for
them ?
Ism. Their only hope, they say, is placed in thee.
CEdi. I, that am nothing, grown so powerful!
Whence
Can it proceed ?
Ism, The gods, who once depressed thee.
II
310
I have ;
S20
SOPHOCLES.
(EDIPUS COLONEUS. — ACT I.
321
Now raise thee up again.
CEdi. It cannot be ; 320
Who falls in youth will never rise in age.
Ism. Know, for this very purpose Creon comes ;
Ere long thou maysl expect him.
CEdi. What to do,
My daughter ?
Ism. To remove thee hence, and place thee
Nearer to Thebes, but not within her borders. 325
CEdi. If not within her walls, what can it be
To them ?
Ism. Thy tomb, raised in a foreign land,
They fear would prove most fatal.
CEdi. But how know they
It must be so, unless some god declared it ?
Ism. For this alone they wish to have thee near 330
The borders, in their power, and not thy own.
(Edi. To bury me at Thebes ?
IsM. That cannot be ;
Thy crime forbids it.
CEdi. Then I Ml never go.
IsM. A time will come when they shall feel thy ven-
geance.
CEdi. What strange vicissitude can e*er produce
This wish'd event?
IsM. Thy wrath, when at thy tomb 336
They shall be forced to meet.
CEdi. Who told thee this ?
Ismene, say.
IsM. The sacred ministers
Of Delphi.
CEdi. Came it from Apollo's shrine P
Ism. On their return to Thebes they did report
it.
CEdi. My sons, did they hear aught of this ? 341
IsM. Both heard.
And know it well,
CEdi. Yet, impious as they are,
Preferr'd a kingdom to their father's love.
IsM. With grief I tell thee what with grief I heard.
CEdi. O ! may the gods doom them to endless strife !
Ne'er may the battle cease, till CEdipus 346
Himself shall end it ! Then, nor he who hears
The sceptre now, should long maintain the throne.
Nor Polynices, e'er to Thebes return ;
They should not live, who drove a parent forth 350
To misery and exile ; left by those
Who should have loved, supported, and revered him
I know they say, the city but complied
With my request; I ask'd for banishment.
Nor then I ask'd it : in my desperate mind 355
When first I raged, I wish'd indeed for death :
It had been grateful then ; but no kind friend
Would minister the boon : at length, my grief
Gave way ; and when they saw my troubled soul
Had taken ample vengeance on itself, 360
After long stay, the city drove me forth ;
And those who could have saved me, my base sons,
Deaf to a father's prayers, permit me still
To roam abroad, in poverty and exile :
From these alone, far as their tender sex 365
Can help me, I receive the means of life.
All the sweet comfort, food, or needful rest
Earth can afford me now ; whilst to my sons
A throne was dearer than a father's love.
But they shall never gain me for their friend, 370
Ne'er reign in Thebes ; these oracles declare
They never shall. I do remember too
Another prophecy, which Phoebus erst
Deliver'd to me :• let 'em send their Creon,
Or any other powerful citizen, 375
SOPH. X
I
322
SOPHOCLES.
GBDIPUS COLONEUS. — ACT I.
323
ii
380
To drag me hence : my hospitable friends,
If to these all-protecting deities
Who here preside, you too will lend your aid,
Athens shall find in me its best defence.
And vengeance strike the foes of CEdipus.
Cho. Thou and thy daughters will deserve our pity ;
And, for thy words are full of promised good
To our loved city, I will tell thee all
'Tis meet thou shouldst perform.
(£j3,^ My best of friends !
Instruct me ; I am ready to obey. 385
Cho. An expiation instant must thou make
To the offended powers, whose sacred seat
Thou hast profaned.
(Edi. But how must it be done ?
Cho,' First, with pure hands, from the ever-flowing
spring.
Thy due libations pour.
CEdi. What follows then ? 390
Cho. Take thou a cup, wrought by some skilful
hand;
Bind it with wreaths around.
CEdi. Of leaves or threads
Composed?
Cho. Of wool, fresh from the new-shorn Iamb.
CEdi. Is there aught else ?
Cho. Then, turning to the sun.
Make thy libations.
CEdi. From the cup, thou say 'st? 395
Cho. The water from three fountains drawn ; and
last.
Remember, none be left.
CEdi. With that alone
Must it be fill'd ?
Cho. Water with honey mix'd.
No wine ; this pour on the earth —
CEdi. What then remains ?
Cho. Take in thy hand of olive boughs thrice nine ;
And offering these, begin thy humble prayer. 401
(Edi. But how address them? That concerns me
near.
Cho. Their name, thou know'st, implies benevolent ;
Intreat them, therefore, kindly now to prove
Benevolent to thee ; this by thyself, 405
Or by another for thee : but, remember,
Low be the voice, and short the supplication.
That done, return : be careful to perform it.
I may assist thee then with confidence ;
But, if thou dost it not, must tremble for thee. 410
CEdi. My daughters, heard you this ?
Ant. We did ; command
What 's to be done.
CEdi. What I can never do.
Powerless and blind as I am ; one of you.
My daughters ! must perform it.
Ant. One alone
May do the task of many, when the mind 415
Is active in it.
CEdi. Hence, then, quick, away ;
But do not leave me here alone : these limbs.
Without a guide, will never find their way.
IsM. Father ! I go : but how to find the place,
I know not.
Cho. Stranger, t'other side of the grove ; 420
There, some inhabitant will soon inform thee,
If thou shouldst want assistance or instruction.
IsM. Meantime, Antigone ! remain thou here.
And guard our father well : cares are not cares, 424
When we endure them for a parent's sake. [Exft,
Cho. Stranger ! albeit we know 'tis most ungrateful
M
jf:!|lt
324
SOPHOCLES.
To raise the sad remembrance of past woes,
Yet would we gladly hear
OEdi. What wouldst thou know ?
Cho. The cause of thy unhappy state.
(Edi. Alas !
By all the sacred hospitable rites, 430
I beg^ thee do not ask me to rereal it :
My crimes are horrible.
Cho. Already fame
Hath spread them wide, and still talks loudly of them :
Tell us the truth.
(Edi. Alas !
Cho. Let me beseech thee.
CEdi. O me !
Cho. Comply : ask what thou wilt of me,
And thou shalt have it.
CEdi. I have suffer'd much : 436
The gods can witness, 'twas against my will ;
I knew not of it.
Cho. Knew not what?
CEdi. The city,
Unknowing too, bound me in horrid nuptials.
Cho. And didst thou then pollute, as fame reports,
Thy mother's bed ?
CEdi. O death to hear .' 1 did : 441
Here, here they are.
Cho. Who 's there ?
CEdi. My crimes ! my daughters !
Cho. Daughters and sisters of their father ? O !
'Tis horrible indeed.
CEdi. 'Tis wo on wo.
Cho. Great Jove ! both daughters of one hapless
mother ! 445
What hast thou suffer'd ?
CEdi. Ills not to be borne !
(EDIPUS COLONEUS. — ACT I.
325
Cho. Didst thou then perpetrate the horrid deed ?
CEdi. O no.
Cho. Not do it?
CEdi. I received from Thebes
A fatal gift ; would I had never taken it ! 449
Cho. And art thou not a murderer too ?
CEdi. What 's that
Thou say'st P
Cho. Thy father
CEdi. Thou add'st grief to grief.
Cho. Didst thou not murder him ?
CEdi. I did : but hear
Cho. Hear what P
CEdi. The cause.
Cho. What cause P
CEdi. I '11 thee : know then,
I murdered others too ; yet by the laws
I stand absolved : 'twas done in ignorance. 455
Cho. [seeing Theseus, who enters,] But, lo ! the king,
-^gean Theseus, comes :
The fame of thee hath brought him here already.
The. O son of Laius ! long ere this the tale
Of thy disastrous fate, by many a tongue
Related, I had heard ; thy eyes torn forth 460
By thy own desperate hand, and now I see
It was too true ; thy garb and dreadful aspect
Speak who thou art. Unhappy CEdipus,
I come to ask, in pity to thy woes,
What 's thy request to Athens or to me ; 465
Thine, or this hapless virgin on thy steps
Attendant, speak ; for large must be the boon
I would refuse thee : I have known too well
(Myself a wretched wanderer) the woes
449 Meaning the throne of Thebes, with Jocasta, whom he
married.
CEDIPUS COLONEUS. — ACT I.
327
336
SOPHOCLES.
470
475
Of cruel exile, not to pity thine.
Of toils and dangers, in a foreign land,
Much have I suffer'd ; therefore not to me
Shall the poor stranger ever sue in vain
For aid and safety : mortals as we are,
Uncertain ever is to-morrow's fate
Alike unknown to Theseus and to thee.
CEdt. Theseus ! thy words declare thy noble nature.
And leave me little to reply : thou know'st
My story, whom and whence I am ; no more
Remains, but that I tell thee my request, 480
And we have done.
The. Proceed then, and inform me.
CEdi. I come to give this wretched body to thee,
To sight ungracious, but of worth more dear
To thee, than fairest forms could boast.
rpjjE What worth?
(Edi. Hereafter thou shalt know, not now.
fpjjg But when
Shall we receive it?
CEdi. When I am no more ; 486
Wlien thou shalt bury me.
'YiiP, Death is, it seems,
Thy chief concern, and life not worth thy care.
(Edi. That will procure me all the means of life.
The. And is this all thou ask'st, this little boon ?
CEdi. Not little is the strife which shall ensue. 491
The. What strife ? with whom ? thy children, or my
own ?
CEdi. Mine, Theseus! they would have me back to
Thebes.
The. And wouldst thou rather be an exile here ?
CEdi. Once they refused me.
rp^E Anger suits but ill
With low estate, and miseries like thine. 496
501
505
yield
CEdi. Hear first, and then condemn me.
rpHE, Not unheard
All thou canst urge, would I reprove thee : speak.
(Edi. O Theseus ! I have borne the worst of ills.
The. The curses on thy race ?
(jjjjj O no ; all Greece
Hath heard of them,
Tjje What more than mortal wo
Afflicts thee then ?
CEdi. Ev'n this ; my cruel sons
Have driven me from my country : never more
Must Thebes receive a parricide.
The. ^^y *^®^
Recall thee now, if thou must ne'er return ?
CEdi. Commanded by an oracle divine.
The. Why, what doth it declare ?
(j-^j That Thebes sTTal
To thee, and to thy arms.
fjijjg But whence should spring
Such dire contention ? . „ ,
C£pi Dearest son of ^geus !
From age and death exempt, the gods alone
Immortal and unchangeable remain.
Whilst all things else fall by the hand of Time,
The universal conqueror : earth laments
Her fertile powers exhausted ; human strength
Is withered soon ; ev'n faith and truth decay.
And from their ashes fraud and falsehood rise ;
Nor friendship long from man to man endures,
Or realm to realm : to each, successive rise
Bitter and sweet, and happiness and wo.
Athens and Thebes thou seest united now.
And all is well ; but passing time shall bring
The fatal day (and slight will be the cause)
That soon shall change the bonds of amity
510
515
520
328
SOPHOCLES.
(EDIPUS COLONEUS. — ACT I.
329
And holy failh, for feuds and deadliest hate.
Then, buried long in earth, shall this cold corse 526
Drink their warm blood, which from the mutual wound
Frequent shall flow : it must be as I tell thee,
If Jove be Jove, and great Apollo true.
But why should I reveal the fix'd decree
Of all-deciding Heaven? Permit me now 630
To end where I began : thy plighted faith
Once more confirm ; and never shalt thou say
The wretched (Edipus to Theseus came
A useless and unprofitable guest,
If the immortal gods have not deceived me. 536
Cho. O king ! already hath this man declared
The same good will to thee and to our country.
The. Can I reject benevolence and love
Like this, my friends ? O no ; the common rites
Of hospitality, this altar here, 540
The witness of our mutual vows, forbid it.
He comes a suppliant to these goddesses,
And pays no little tribute both to me
And to my kingdom : he shall find a seat
Within my realms, for I revere his virtues. 545
If here it pleaseth him to stay, remember,
[to the Chorus.
'Tis my command you guard this stranger well.
If thou wouldst rather go with me, thou mayst ;
I leave it to thy choice. [to (Edipus.
CEdu Reward them, Jove !
The. What say'st thou, wilt thou follow me ?
CEdi. I would,
If it were lawful ; but it must be here ; 561
This is the place
The. For what ? I '11 not deny thee^
(Edi. Where I must conquer those who banish'd
me.
The. That would be glory and renown to this,
Thy place of refuge.
If I
ly depend 556
On thy fair promise.
The. Fear not, I shall never
Betray ray friend.
Q^Di. I will not bind thee to it
By oath, like those whom we suspect of ill.
The. Thou need'st not, CEdipus ! my word 's my
oath.
CEdi. How must I act then ?
The. Fear'st thou aught ?
GSdi. I do ;
A force will come against me.
The. Here 's thy guard ; 561
[pointing to the Chorus,
These shall protect thee.
CEdi. If thou goest, remember,
And save me, Theseus !
The. Teach not me my du^y
CEdi. Still am I fearful.
The. Theseus is not so. 564
CEdi. Kuow'st thou not what they threatened P
The. This I know,
No power on earth shall wrest thee from this place.
Ofttimes the angry soul will vent its wrath
In idle threats, with high and empty words ;
Which ever, as the mind is to itself 569
Restored, are — nothing : they may boast their strength,
And say they Ml tear thee from me ; but, I tell
thee.
The journey would be long and tedious to them.
They will not hazard it; they dare not : therefore
Be comforted ; for if, by Phoebus sent,
Thou hither camest, thou art safe without my aid, 576
ii
m
330
SOPHOCLES.
580
585
Ev'n if I leave thee safe ; for know, the name
Of Theseus here suflBceth to protect thee.
lExit Theseus.
CHORUS.
STROPHE I.
Thou art come in happy time,
Stranger ! to this blissful clime.
Long for swiftest steeds renown'd,
Fertilest of the regions round,
Where, beneath the ivy shade.
In the dew-besprinkled glade.
Many a love-lorn nightingale
Warbles sweet her plaintive tale ;
Where the vine in clusters pours
Her sweets, secured from wintry showers ;
Nor scorching suns, nor raging storm
The beauties of the year deform ;
ANTISTROPHE I.
Where the sweet narcissus growing.
Where the yellow crocus blowing,
Round the sacred altars twine.
Offering to the powers divine ;
Where the pure springs perpetual flow,
Watering the verdant meads below.
Which with its earth-enriching waves
The fair Cephisus ever laves ;
Where, with his ever-sporting train,
Bacchus wantons on the plain,
Pleased with the Muses still to rove,
And golden Venus, queen of love.
STROPHE II.
Alone within this happy land.
Planted here by Nature's hand,
Which, nor Asia's fertile plains.
Nor Pelops' spacious isle contains,
590
595
600
605
615
620
(EDIPUS COLONEUS. — ACT H. 331
Pallas ! thy sacred olive grows.
Striking terror on our foes ;
Ever free from hostile rage,
From wanton youth, or greedy age ;
Happy in sage Minerva's love, 610
And guarded still by Morian Jove.
ANTISTROPHE H.
But nobler gifts, and fairer fame,
Athens ! yet adorn thy name ;
Such wondrous gifts hath pour'd on thee
Thy great protecting deity.
Here first, obedient to command,
Form'd by Neptune's skilful hand,
The steed was taught to know the rein,
And bear the chariot o'er the plain ;
Here first along the rapid tide
The stately vessels learn'd to ride,
And swifter down the current flow
Than Nereids cut the waves below. [Exeunt.
ACT II.
ANTIGONE, (EDIPUS, CHORUS.
Ant. Great are thy praises, Attica! and now
The time is come to show thou dost deserve them. 625
CEdi. What means my daughter ? Speak: what new
event
Alarms thee?
Ant. Creon, with a numerous band
Of followers, comes this way.
qEdi. 0> now, my friends !
If ever, help me.
Cho. Fear not ; we '11 protect thee.
u
332
SOPHOCLES.
636
640
Though I am old, the strength of Attica 630
Is not decayed.
Efiter Creon, with Attendants.
Cre. Most honor'd citizens !
I see you look with eyes of fear upon me,
Without a cause ; for know, I came not here,
Intending aught of violence or ill
Against a city so renown'd in Greece
As yours hath ever been ; I only came.
Commissioned by the state of Thebes, to fetch
This old man back, if by persuasion mild
I could induce him to return ; not sent
By one alone, but the united voice
Of a whole people, who assign'd the task
To me, because, by blood united to him,
I felt for his misfortunes as ray own.
Come, therefore, OEdipus ! attend me home ;
Thebes calls thee back ; thy kingdom now demands
thee ;
By me she calls thee : listen to thy friend ;
For surely Creon were the worst of men,
If he could look on woes like thine unmoved ;
When I behold thee in a foreign land,
A wretched wanderer, forced to beg thy bread.
From place to place, with this unhappy maid,
Whom little did I think to see exposed
To misery and shame, of nuptial rites
Hopeless, and thus bereft of every aid.
! 'tis reproach and infamy to us
And to our race ; but 'tis already known,
And cannot be conceard. O (Edipus !
1 here beseech thee, by our country's gods,
Return to Thebes ; bid thou a kind farewell,
(For she deserves it) to this noble city.
645
650
655
660
(EDIPUS COLONEUS. — ACT II.
333
But still remember thy own dearer country.
CEdi. Thou daring hypocrite ! whose specious wiles
Beneath fair semblance mean but to betray,
Why wouldst thou tempt me thus ? why thus once more
Ensnare me in thy toils, and make me still 665
More wretched than I am ? Long time, oppressed
By heaviest woes, I pined within my palace.
And longed for exile ; but thou then refusedst
To let me go, till satiated with grief.
My soul at length was calm, and much I wish'd 670
To spend my few remaining years at home.
Then thou (for little did the kindred blood
Thou talk'st of then avail) didst banish me ;
And now again thou comest to make me wretched ;
Because thou seest this kind benignant city 675
Embrace and cherish, thou wouldst drag me hence,
With sweetest words covering thy bitter mind.
Professing love to those who choose it not.
He, who denies his charitable aid
To the poor beggar in his utmost need, 680
And, if abundance comes, should offer that
Which is not wanted, little merits thanks.
Such is thy bounty now, in word alone.
And not in deed, the friend of CEdipus.
But I will tell them what thou art : thou earnest not
To take me hence, but leave me in the borders 686
Of Thebes, that so thy kingdom may escape
The impending ills which this avenging city
Shall pour upon it : but 'twill come to pass
As I foretold ; my evil genius still 690
Shall haunt thee, and my sons no more of Thebes
Inherit than shall serve them for a grave.
Thy country's fate is better known to me
Than to thyself, for my instruction comes
From surer guides, from Phoebus and from Jove. 6G5
334
SOPHOCLES.
CEDIPUS COLONEUS. — ACT II.
Thy artful speech shall little serve thy purpose ;
'Twill only hurt thy cause : therefore, begone ;
I am not to be persuaded. Let me live
In quiet here; for, wretched as I am,
'Twill be some comfort to be far from thee. 7UU
Cue. Think^st thou I heed thy words? Who II
suffer most
For this perverseness, thou or I ?
CEdi. .. .V"^"'*
Thy little arts will naught avail with me
Or with my friends.
Qj^g Poor wretch ! no time can cure
Thy follies ; thy old age is grown delirious. 705
(Edi. Thou hast a hateful tongue ; but few, how just
Soe'er they be, can-always speak aright.
Cre. But to say much, and to say well, are things
Which differ widely.
(IJdi. What thou say^st, no doubt,
Is brief and proper too.
Qj^^ 'Twill hardly seem so
To those who think like thee.
cedi. ^^^y» "^' ^^^^
Direct my steps, as if thou hadstthe power
To place me where thou wilt.
Q^^ Remember all
To witness this, for he shall answer it
When he is mine.
(Eiji^ But who shall force me hence
Ao^ainst the will of these my friends?
"cre. Their aid
Is vain; already I have done what much
Will hurt thee.
CEdi Ha ! what threats are these ?
C^g ' Thy daughters
Must go with me : one is secured, and now,
335
720
710
715
This moment will I wrest the other from thee.
CEdi. O me!
Cre. I '11 give thee much more cause for grief.
CEdi. Hast thou my daughter ?
Cre. Ay, and will have this.
GSdi. [to the C/torM5.] What will you do, my friends ?
Will you forsake me ?
Will you not drive this vile, abandon'd man
Forth from your city ?
Cho. Stranger! hence; away: 725
Thy actions are most shameful and unjust.
Cre. Slave ! do your office ; bear her off by force.
If she consents not.
Ant Whither shall I fly
For aid ? What god or man shall I implore
To succor me ?
Cho. Alas ! what wouldst thou do ? 730
Cre. I touch not him, but I must have my own.
Ant. O princes! aid me now.
Cho^ 'Tis most unjust.
Cre. I say 'tis just.
Cho. Then prove it.
CijE. They are mine.
Cho. O citizens !
Ant. O loose me ! if you do not,
You shall repent this violence.
Cre. Go on ; 735
I will defend you.
CEdi. He, who injures me.
Offends the city.
Cho. Said I not before
It would be thus?
Cre. \to the Chorus,'] Let go the maid this instant.
Cho. Command where thou hast power.
Cjjg Let her go.
336
SOPHOCLES.
760
Cho. Begone thyself; what, ho ! my countrymen !
The city is in danger ; haste, and save us. 741
[Creon's followers seize on Antigone.
Ant. I 'm seized, my friends ! O, help !
(j;jj,^ Where is my daughter ?
Ant. Torn from thee. .,,,..
(£jj, O ! stretch forth thy hand.
. ' I cannot.
Ant.
Cre. Away with her: , _, ,.
(jjjj, O wretched CEdipus !
Cre. No longer shall these tender props support
Thy feeble age: Since thou art still resolved, 746
Against thyself, thy country, and thy friends.
By whose command I come, remain perverse
And obstinate, old man ! but know, hereafter,
Time will convince thee thou hast ever been
Thy own worst foe ; thy fiery temper still
Must make thee wretched.
(3jjo Stranger! stir not hence:
Cub. I cnarge you, touch me not.
(3mj, Thou shalt not go
Till thou restorest the virgins.
r«oi7 I must have
A nobler ransom from your city ; these 755
Shall not suffice.
Cho What mean'st thou ?
Cre'. ^^ ^^*" g^'
This CEdipus,
Cho. Thy threats are terrible.
Cre. I Ml do it ; and only he, who governs here,
Shall hinder me.
Qg^i. O insolence ! Thou wilt not,
Thou darest not, force me.
Cre^ Hold thy peace.
^jjj Not even 760
CEDIPUS COLONEUS. — ACT H.
337
The dreadful goddesses, who here preside,
Should bind my tongue from heaviest curses on thee ;
For thou hast robb*d me of the only light
These eyes could boast. But may the all-seeing sun
Behold and punish thee and all thy race, 765
And load thy age with miseries like mine !
Cre. Inhabitants of Athens ! hear ye this ?
CEdi. They do, andsee that but with fruiltess words
I can repay the injuries I received ;
For I am weak with age, and here alone. 770
Cre. No longer will I curb my just resentment,
But force thee hence.
CEdi. O me !
Cho. What boldness, stranger !
Could make thee hope to do a deed like this
Unpunish'd ?
Cre. 'Tis resolved.
Cho. Our Athens then
Is fallen indeed, and is no more a city. 775
Cre, In a just cause the weak may foil the mighty.
.CEdi. Hear how he threatens —
Cho. What he '11 ne'er perform.
Cre. That Jove alone can tell.
Cho. Shall injuries
Like these be suffered ?
Cre. Call it injury
Thou mayst ; *tis such as thou perforce must bear. 780
Cho. This is too much ; ye rulers of the land !
My fellow citizens! come forth, and save us.
Enter Theseus.
The, Whence is this clamor? Wherefore am I
cali'd
From sacred rites, at Neptune's altar paid.
Our guardian god ? Say, what 's the cause, that thus
soph y
338
SOPHOCLES,
786
In haste 1 'm summoned hither ? , . „^ ,
(Edi ^ ™y ^
(For well I know thy voice,) most cruelly
Have I been treated hy this man. ^^^ ^.^.^,
^Di*. This Creon, whom thou seest, hath ravish'd
from me
My only help, my daughte^^ ^ ^^^^ ^^^,^^ ^^^^ ^ ^^^
X HE«
CEdi. 'Tis as I tell thee.
The. [to his attendcmts.] Quick, despatch, my ser-
vants ;
Fly to the aliar, summon all my people.
Horsemen and foot; give o'er the sacrifice,
And instant to the double gate repair,
Lest with the virgins the base ravishers 7Jb
Escape unpunish'd, and my guest, thus injured,
Laucrh me to scorn for cowardice. Away .
Were iTo punish this oppressor here [turning to Creon.
As my resentment bids, and he deserves,
He should this instant fall beneath my rage :
But the same justice he to others deals
Himself shall meet from us. Thou shalt not go,
Till those, whom thou didst basely ravish hence,
Are brought before me : 'twas unlike thyself,
Unworthy of thy country and thy race,
To enter thus a cultivattd city,
Where law and justice reign, with violence
And rapine snatching what thy fancy pleased.
Or didst thou think I ruled a desert land.
Or that my people were a race of slaves.
And Theseus but the shadow of a king ?
Thebes never taught thee such destructive lessons,
For she abhors injustice : when she hears
That Creon, thus despising sacred laws,
800
805
810
CEDIPUS COLONEUS. — ACT II.
339
820
Hath taken with brutal violence my right, 815
And would have stolen a wretched suppliant from me.
She '11 not approve thy conduct. Say, I went
To Thebes, how just soever were the cause,
I should not seize on aught without the leave
Of him who govern'd there ; but, as becomes
A stranger, bear myself unblamed by all.
Thou hast disgraced thy country and thy friends.
And weight of years hath taken thy senses from thee.
Again, I say, restore the virgins to me.
Or stay with me thyself, for so thou shalt, 825
Howe'er unwilling. What I 've said, remember.
Is what I have resolved ; therefore determine.
Cho. [to Creon,] Stranger ! thy actions, noble as
thou art.
But ill become thy family and name.
Because unjust; but thou behold'st thy fate. 830
Cre. Theseus ! it was not that I thought this city
Without or guanls to save, or laws to rule.
Which brought me here, nor unadvised I came ;
But that I hoped you never would receive
My kindred here against my will, nor e'er
Embrace a vile, incestuous parricide,
Or cherish and protect him, in a land,
Whose court, renownM for justice, suffers not
Such poor abandon'd exiles to reside
Within its borders : therefore did I this.
Which yet I had not done, but for the curses
Which he hath pour'd on me and all, my race.
Revenge inspired me : anger, well thou know'st,
Can never be extinguish'd but by death.
Which closeth ev'ry wound. At present, Theseus ! 845
It must be as thou wilt ; my want of power,
How just so'er my cause, demands submission :
Yet old and weak, I shall not tamely yield.
8;V5
841)
340
SOPHOCLES.
860
865
860
CEdi. Audacious man ! think'st thou the vile re-
proach
Thou utter'st falls on me or on thyself?
Thou, who upbraid^st me thus for all my woes,
Murder and incest, which against my will
I had committed ; (so it pleased the gods,
Offended at my race for former crimes ;
But I am guiltless) canst thou name a fault
Deserving this? For tell me, was it mine,
When to my father Phoebus did declare
That he should one day perish by the hand
Of his own child ? Was (Edipus to blame
Who had no being then ? If, born at length
To wretchedness, he met his sire unknown,
And slew him, that involuntary deed
Canst thou condemn ? And for my fatal marriage,
Dost thou not blush to name it? Was not she
Thy sister, she who bore me, (ignorant
And guiltless woman !) afterwards my wife.
And mother to my children ? What she did,
She did unknowing, not like thee, who thus
Dost purposely upbraid us both. Heaven knows,
Unwillingly I wedded her, and now 870
Unwillingly repeat the dreadful tale :
But, not for that, nor for my murder'd father,
Have I deserved thy bitter taunts ; for, tell me.
Thy life attack'd, wouldst thou have stayed to ask
866
The assassin if he were thy father ? No,
Self-love would urge thee to revenge the insult.
Thus was I drove to ill by the angry gods ;
This, should my father's soul revisit earth,
Himself would own, and pity CEdipus.
Thy bold and impious tongue still utters all ;
Just or unjust, thou pour'st thy foul reproach
On me, pretending to revere the name
875
880
CEDIPUS COLONEUS. — ACT II.
341
Of Theseus and his country ; but, remember.
The city, which thou thus hast praised, is famed
For piety and reverence to the gods ; 8B6
Yet wouldst thou drive a needy suppliant thence,
And lead him captive. Thou hast stolen my daughter;
But I implore the dreadful goddesses
To grant me aid, that thou mayst feel the power 889
Which thou contemn'st, and know the force of Athens.
Cho. [to Theseus.] O king ! this stranger merits thy
regard ;
His woes are great ; his cause should be defended.
The. No more ; the ravishers are fled with speed.
Whilst we, who suffer, stand inactive here. 894
Cre. Speak thy commands, for I must yield to thee.
The. Go thou before me ; I shall follow close :
If here thou hast conceal'd the virgins, now
Discover them ; if hence, to others' hands
Committed, they are fled, they shall not 'scape:
My servants soon will fetch them back. Meantime 900
Remember thy condition, for thy fate
Hath caught thee in the net which thou hadst spread
For others. But, what evil means acquire,
Is seldom kept ; thou camest not naked here.
Or unattended, thus to do an act
Of violence. Ere long I '11 know on what
Thou didst rely, nor by a single arm
Shall Athens fall inglorious : hear'st thou this.
Or are my words unheeded P
Cjj£, 'Tis not now
A time to answer : we shall know at home
What must be done.
•jjjE. Thou threatenest ; but go on.
Stay thou in quiet here ; for if I live,
{^turning to (Edipus.
I will not rest till I restore thy daughters.
[Exeunt Theseus and Creon.
905
910
342
SOPHOCLES.
CHORUS.
STROPHE I.
Now the combatants prepare,
And hasten to the field of war : 915
Theseus, their great and godlike friend,
The hapless virgins shall defend.
O ! could I hear the dreadful battle roar,
Or near Apollo's sacred shrine.
Or on the torch-enlighten'd shore, 920
Or, Ceres ! where thy priests their rites divine
Perform, with lips in solemn silence seal'd.
And mysteries ne'er by mortal tongue reveal'd !
A NTI STROPHE 1«
At yon snowy mountain's feet
Westward perchance the warriors meet; 926
Chariot and horse, with mutual rage,
On CEtiiS flowery plains enjj:age.
Around their Theseus now, a valiant band,
See Athens' martial sons unite
To save their native land. 930
All shake their glittering spears, and urge the
fight ;
All, who thy power, equestrian Pallas! own,
Or bow to Neptune, Rhea's honor'd son.
STROPHE II.
The bloody scene shall soon be o*er ;
Creon the virgin shall restore ; 936
My soul prophetic sees the maid
For pious duty thus repaid ;
920 Torches were carried in the Eleusinian rites, probably
in memory of those which Ceres and her attendants are sup-
posed to have made use of in their search after Proserpine,
These mysteries were performed by night in the most solemn
manner by the Eumolpidae, or priests of Ceres ; and none
were admitted to them but the pure and unspotted, who were
bound to inviolable secreey.
(EDIPUS COLONEUS. — ACT HI.
343
For ever active is the power of Jove,
From whom perpetual blessings flow.
O ' that I now could, like the dove, «*"
Soar th'rough the skies, and mark the field below,
The wishM-for conquest joyful to behold,
And triumph in the victory I foretold!
ANTISTROPHE II.
Thou power supreme, all powers above,
All-seeing, all-performing Jove !
Grant that the rulers of this land
May soon subdue the hostile band !
Thee too, O Pallas! hunter Phoebus ! thee
Do we invoke ; with thee be join d ^^^
Thv virgin sister deity, ,, , .• a
Who loves o'er la«ns to chase the spotted h.nd:
On you we call ; your aid propitious bring :
O ! haste, protect our country and our king. lExeunt.
ACT III.
ffiDIPUS, THESEUS, ANTIGONE, ISMENE, CHORUS.
Cho. I 'M no false prophet, stranger ! for, behold
Th^daughte^s .hat say'st thou t WhereP O! wheiet
Int My father! O my father! what kind god 956
Katd up'this friend, who hath restored us to thee ?
(Em. Are then my daughters with ""« ?^^^^^^^, ^,^
HaTbrought us here ; to him and to his friends
W^owe our safety. ^ ^ ^^^^ ^.^^^ ^^ ^^.,^^^^ , ^
Let me embrace you ; never did I think
Again to fold you in these arms. ^^ ^^^^
Ant.
344
SOPHOCLES.
CEDIPUS COLONEUS. — ACT HI.
345
With joy, my father !
CEdi. O ! where are you ?
Ant. Here,
CEdi. My dearest children !
Ant. To our father still
May every pleasure come I
(Edi. [leaning/ on Anti(;one,^ My best support! 966
Ant. The wretched bear the wretched.
CEdi. [embracing them.^ I have all
That's precious to me : were I now to die,
Whilst you are here, I should not be unhappy.
Support me, daughters ! to your father's side
Close press'd : O ! soothe to peace a wretched exile.
Long time deserted : tell me what hath happen'd ; 971
But let the tale be short, as best becomes
Thj' tender age.
Ant. [pointing to Theseus,] Here is our great pro-
tector.
He will inform you ; so shall what I speak
Be brief as thou wouldst have it.
CEdi. Noble Theseus ! 975
My children thus beyond my hopes restored,
If I should talk too long on such a theme.
Thou wilt not wonder. 'Tis to thee alone
I owe my joys ; thou didst protect and save
My much-loved daughters. May the gods repay 980
Thee and thy kingdom for this goodness to me !
Here only have I found or faith, or truth,
Or justice; you alone possess them all :
I will attest it, for I know it well.
I feel your virtues ; what I have is all 985
From you. O king ! permit me but to touch
Thy hand; O ! stretch it forth, or let me kiss
Thy honor'd lips ! But, O ! what do I say P
€an such a wretch as (Edipus e'er hope,
With guilty hands, to touch a man like thee, 990
So pure, so spotless ? Yet I must embrace thee :
They only who have known misfortunes feel
For others' griefs with sympathising wo.
Hail, best of men ! and mayst thou ever be.
As thou hast been, my guardian and my friend ! 995
The. Thus happy as thou must be in thy children,
Hadst thou said more, much more, and talk'd to them
Rather than me, it had not moved my wonder.
Nor think I should resent it : not by words
Would Theseus be distinguished, but by deeds 1000
Illustrious : this thou know'st ; for what I swore
I Ihave perform'd, restored thy daughters to thee.
Safe from the tyrant's threats : how past the conflict
Why should I boast? They at their leisure best
May tell you all : meantime to what I heard, 1005
As hither coming, CEdipus, attend :
Of little import seem'd the circumstance,
And yet 'twas strange ; but naught should mortal man
Deem or beneath his notice or his care.
CEdi. What is it, son of ^geus ? O ! inform me.
For nothing have I heard.
The. a man, they say, 1011
Who boasts himself by blood allied to thee,
At Neptune's altar, whilst I sacriliced,
In humblest posture stood.
CEdi. What could it mean ?
Whence came he ?
The. That I know not ; this alone 1015
They told me suppliant he requested much
To talk awhile with thee.
(Edi. With me ? 'Tis strange,
And yet, methinks, important.
The. He desired
But to converse with thee, and then depart. 1019
346
SOPHOCLES.
OiDIPUS COLONEUS.— ACT III.
CEdi. Who can it be
The.
None of thy kindred
CEdi. No more, my
The.
CEdi.
The. Ask what-
CEdi. I
Who 's at the altar.
The
(Edi.
Hast thou no friend at Argos ?
there, wlio wishM to see thee ?
friend !
What say'st thou ?
Do not ask me.
know him now ; I know too well
Who is it?
That hateful son, whose voice I loathe to hear. 1025
The. But why not hear him? Still thou mayst
refuse
What he shall ask.
(Edi. I cannot, cannot bear it ;
Do not oblige me.
The. But the sacred place
Where now he stands, and reverence to the gods,
Demand it of thee.
Ant. Let me, O my father ! 1030
Young as I'am, admonish thee. O ! grant
Thy friend his just request; obey the gods,
And let our brother come ; whate'er he says.
It need not draw thee from thy first resolve.
What harm to hear him P Words have o" Produced
The noblest works : remember, 'tis thy child : lUdb
Thou didst beget him; though he were the worst
Of sons to thee, yet would it ill become
A father to return it. Let him come.
Others, like thee, have base, unworthy children, 1040
And yet their minds are softenMto forgiveness
By friends' advice, and all their wrath subdued,
Think on thy own unhappy parent's fate ;
Thence mayst thou learn what dreadful ills have flow d
347
1045
From anger's bitter fountain. Thou, alas !
Art a sad proof; those sightless eyes too well
Bear witness to it : those, who only ask
What justice warrants, should not ask in vain ;
Nor who receives a benefit, forget
The hand that gave, but study to repay it. 1050
CEdi. You have o'ercome me : with reluctant plea-
sure
I yield : my children ! be it as you please :
But if he comes, O Theseus ! guard my life.
The. I *ve said enough ; no more : I will not boast ;
But thou art safe, if Heaven forsakes not me. 1055
CHORUS.
STROPHE.
In sacred wisdom's path is seldom seen
The wretch, whom sordid love of wealth inspires ;
Neglectful of the happy golden mean,
His soul nor truth nor heavenly knowlege fires.
No length of days to him can pleasure bring ; 1060
In death alone he finds repose,
End of his wishes and his woes,
In that uncomfortable night,
Where never music's charms delight,
Nor virgin choirs their hymeneals sing. 1065
ANTISTROPHE.
The happiest fate of man is not to be ;
And next in bliss is he, who, soon as born,
From the vain world and all its sorrows free,
Shall whence he came with speediest foot return :
For youth is full of folly, toils, and wo, 1070
Of war, sedition, pain, and strife,
With all the busy ills of life ;
Till helpless age comes creeping on.
Deserted, friendless, and alone.
Which neither power, nor joy, nor pleasure knows.
348
SOPHOCLES.
1076
EPODE.
The hapless CEdipas, like me,
Is doom'd to age and misery :
Ev'n as around the northern shore
The bleak winds howl, and tempests roar,
Contending storms in terror meet, 1080
And dashing waves for ever beat ;
Thus is the wretched king with grief oppress'd,
And woes on woes afflict his long-distemper'd breast.
l^Exeunt.
ACT IV.
CEDIPUS, ANTIGONE, ISMENE, CHORUS.
Ant. This way, my father! Lo ! the wretched man
Approaches, unattended and in tears. 1085
(Edi. Who comes, my child ?
AjyjT, Ev'n he I told thee of,
Poor Polynices !
Enter Polynices.
Pol. O my sisters ! see
Of all mankind the most unhappy. Where
Shall I begin ? Shall I lament my own,
Or shall I weep an aged parent's fate ? 1090
For, O ! 'tis horrible to find him thus
A wandering exile in a foreign land ;
In this mean garb, with wild dishevell'd hair.
Bereft of sight, and destitue, perhaps.
Of needful food and nourishment. Alas ! 1095
Too late I know it, worthless as I am ;
I flew to succor him, to plead my cause.
That not from others he might hear the tale
Of my misfortunes : sacred Pity sits
Fast by the throne of Jove, o'er all his works 1100
Presiding gracious : O ! let her inspire
Thy breast, my father ! Crimes already done,
(EDIPUS COLONEUS. — ACT IV.
349
Which cannot be recall'd, may still be heal'd
By kind forgiveness ; why then art thou silent?
O ! speak, my father ! do not turn aside : 1105
Wilt thou not answer? Wilt thou let me go
Without one word, nor tell me whence thy wrath
Contemptuous springs ? My sisters ! you at least
Will try to move his unrelenting heart,
And loosen his closed lips; that not thus spurn'd 1110
And thus unanswer'd, though a suppliant here
At Neptune's altar, I return with shame
And foul disgrace.
Ant. Say, wherefore didst thou come ?
My hapless brother! tell thy mournful tale :
Such is the power of words, that whether sweet 1115
They move soft pity, or when bitter urge
To violence and wrath, at least they ope
The unwilling lips, and make the silent speak.
Pol. 'Tis well advised, and I will tell thee all.
! may that deity propitious smile, 1120
Whose altar late I left, whence Theseus raised
This wretched suppliant, and in converse free
Mix'd gracious with me ! May I hope from you
The like benevolence ? And now, my father !
1 'II tell thee wherefore Polynices came. 1125
Thou seest me banish'd from my native land.
Unjustly banish'd, for no other crime.
But that I strove to keep the throne of Thebes,
By birthright mine, from him, who drove me thence,
The young Eteocles : not his the claim 1130
By justice, nor to me his fame in arms
Superior ; but by soft persuasive arts
He won the rebel city to his love.
Thy curse, my father, was the cause of all,
I know it was ; for so the priests declared 1 135
In oracles divine : to Argos then
m\
350
SOPHOCLES.
1140
1145
1160
I came, and, to Adraslus* daughter join'd
In marriage, gain'd the Argive chiefs, renown'd
For martial deeds. Seven valiant leaders march
To Thebes, resolved to conquer or to die.
Therefore to thee, my father ! came I here,
To beg thy aid for me and these my friends.
Companions of the war, who threatens Thebes
With their united powers, in order thus :
The wise and brave Amphiaraus, or skill'd
To cast the spear, or with prophetic tongue
Disclose the will of Heaven, with CEneus' son,
^tolian Tydeus, and Eteocles,
At Argos born ; to these, Hippomedon,
Sent by Talaus, his renowned sire.
Bold Capaneus, who threatens soon to raze
The walls of mighty Thebes : to close the train,
Parthenopsian Areas comes, the son
Of Atalantis, from her virgin name
So call'd : with these, thy hapless son (the child 1155
Of dire misfortune rather) leads his force
From Argos to rebellious Thebes : for these.
And for their children, for the lives of all.
Suppliant to thee we come, in humble prayer,
To deprecate thy wrath against a wretch, 1 160
Who, injured much, but seeks the vengeance due
To a base brother, whose oppressive hand
Hath drove me from my country and my throne.
If there be truth in what the gods declare,
On him shall victory smile, for whom thy vows
Shall rise propitious ; therefore, by our gods
And native fountains, O ! remit thy anger,
And smile upon me, on a banish'd man,
A beggar like thyself, who lives, like thee,
By others' bounty : in one common fate
We are united, whilst the tyrant sits
CEDIPUS COLONEUS. — ACT IV.
351
1165
1170
1175
In ease at home, and laughs our woes to scorn.
Yet if thou wouldst but listen to my vows,
Soon might I cast him forth, restore thee soon
To thy dear native land, and seat myself
In my own kingdom. Thy assent, my father !
Is all I ask ; but, O ! without thy aid
I have no hope of safety or revenge.
Cho. For Theseus' sake, O ! give him answer now,
And let him go.
(Edi. But that the noble Theseus, 1180
Who hither brought him, did request it of me.
He ne'er had heard the voice of CEdipus ;
And little pleasure will it now bestow.
Un^-rateful wretch ! who, when the throne of Thebes,
°•^. [turning to Polynices-
Where now thy brother sits, was thine, didst drive
Thy father hence, to penury and wo ; 1186
Now, when thou seest me in this mean attire.
Thou weep'st my fate, because 'tis like thy own.
But I '11 not weep, for I can bear it all,
Still, wicked parricide ! remembering thee, 1190
The cruel cause of all ; thou madest me thus
On others' bounty to rely for food
And nourishment : for ti»ee, I might have perish'd ;
But these my pious daughters, these alone,
Beyond their sex's power, with manly aid 1195
Have cherish'd and protected me : for you.
Who call yourselves my sons, ye are not mine :
I know you not. Though heaven hath spared you long.
Death will o'ertake you ; when thy forces come
To Thebes, which shall not fall before thy arms, 1200
There soon shalt thou and thy vile brother die.
Long since my curses did declare thy fate.
Which here I do repeat, that you may learn
The reverence due to parents, and no more
OEDIPUS COLONEUS. — ACT IV,
353
352
SOPHOCLES.
1205
1220
Reproach a sightless father. Look on these
My duteous daughters : did they act like you ?
They never did ; and therefore to the throne,
Which you have forfeited, shall they succeed.
If Justice still, as she is ever wont,
Sits at the hand of Jove : meantime, thou worst, 1210
Thou most abandon'd of the race of men !
Begone ! away ! and with thee bear this curse,
Which here I do pronounce : to Argos ne'er
Mayst thou return ! never may Thebes be thine !
Soon mayst thou perish by a brother's hand, 1215
Slaying the slayer ! May dark Erebus
Receive them both ! And now on you I call,
Ye goddesses revered ! and thou, O Mars !
Thou, who hast raised the bitter strife between
My impious sons, bear witness to my words !
Farewell : now go, and tell the Thebans, tell
Thy faithful friends, how fair an heritage
Your (Edipus hath here bequeathed his children.
Cho. O Polynices! little is the joy
Which we can give thee of this fatal journey ;
Therefore away, and leave us.
Pol. a sad path
These steps have trod indeed, of wo to me
And to my friends. Was it for this, alas !
I came from Argos ? I can never tell
My mournful story there, never return.
O ! I must bury it in silence all.
My sisters ! ye have heard the dreadful curse
Which he pronounced. O ! if it be fulfiU'd,
And some kind hand restore you back to Thebes,
At least remember me ; at least perform 1235
The funeral rites, and hide me in the tomb :
So shall your names, for pious tenderness
To an unhappy father long revered,
1225
1230
With added praises crown'd, exalted shine,
For this kind office to a brother's shade. 1240
Ant. O Polynices ! let me beg thee, hear
Thy sister now.
Pol. My dear Antigone !
What say'st thou ?
Ant. Lead thy armies back to Argos,
Nor thus destroy thy country and thyself.
Pol. It cannot be ; my forces, once dismiss'd, 1245
Through fear, what power shall ever reunite them?
Ant. But wherefore all this rage ? What canst thou
hope
Of fame or profit by the fall of Thebes?
Pol. 'Tit base to fly, and, eldest born as I am,
To be the laughter of a younger brother. 1250
Ant. Dost thou not dread the oracles pronounced
Against you both, death by each other's hand ?
Pol. I know the sentence, but we must go on.
Ant. Alas ! and who shall dare to follow thee,
After this dire prediction ?
Pol. None shall know it. 1255
The prudent general tells the good alone,
And keeps the threaten'd ill unknown to all.
Ant. Art thou determined then, and wilt thou go ?
Pol. Do not dissuade me, for the task is mine ;
And though a father's fatal curse attend me, 1260
Though vengeful Furies shall await my steps.
Yet I must go. May Jove indulgent smile
On you, my sisters! if, when I am dead,
(As soon I shall be) to my breathless corpse
You pay due honors ! Now farewell for ever,
For living ye shall ne'er again behold me.
Ant. Alas, my brother !
Pol. Do not weep for me.
Ant. Who would not weep to see thee rushing thus
SOPH. ^
1265
\
354
SOPHOCLES.
CEDIPUS COLONEUS. — ACT IV.
Ask me not to do 1270
Losing thee,
To the gods
1275
On certain death ?
Pol. If I must die, I must.
Ant. Yet be persuaded.
Pol.
A deed unworthy of me.
Ant.
1 shall be most unhappy.
Pol.
Alone belong the fate of mortals ; some
Are bom to happiness, and some to wo.
You may they guard from every ill, for sure
Ye merit all the good they can bestow.
[Ejit Polynias,
Cho. Fresh sorrows hath this hapless stranger
brought
On me and all ; but so hath Heaven decreed,
Which nothing doth in vain ; whilst time beholds
And orders all, intlicting wo on wo : 1280
But, hark ! the thunder roars : almighty Jove !
CEdi. My daughters! O my daughters! who will
bring
The noble Theseus here, that best of men ?
Ant. Wherefore, my father! should we call hum
hither? ^'^^^
CEdi. This winged lightning from the arm of Jove
Must bear me to the shades below. Where 's Theseus ?
Let him be sent for instantly.
Cho. Again !
Another dreadful clap ! It strikes my soul
With horror, and my hairs do stand on end
With fear. Behold, again the lightnings Hash ! 1290
I dread the consequence, for not in vain
These signs appear, of some calamity
Portentous ever. O, ethereal Jove !
CEdi. Alas, my children ! naught can save me now ;
355
1295
The fatal hour of my departure hence
Draws nigh.
Ant. Why think'st thou so ?
CEdf. I know it well :
Send for the king immediately.
Cho. Alas !
The thunder rolls on every side. Good Heaven
Protect us ! If to this devoted land
It bodes destruction, let not ruin fall 1300
On me ! O, let not that be our reward
For pitying thus a poor, deserted stranger !
O Jove 1 on thee we call : protect and save us !
CEdi. Is Theseus come ? Shall he once more behold
me.
1305
Whilst yet I live, and keep my perfect mind ?
Cho. What secret hast thou to reveal to him?
OEdi. I owe him much, and would repay his good-
ness,
Ev'n as I promised him.
Cho. O, haste, my son !
At Neptune's altar leave the sacrifice,
And hither fly ; for CEdipus, to thee 1310
And to thy country grateful, waits to pay
Thy bounties : haste, O Theseus ! to receive them.
Enter Theseus.
The. Again this noise, this wild astonishment,
Amongst you all ? Was CEdipus the cause,
Or did the bolt of Jove, and rushing hail, 1315
Affright you ? When the god in raging storms
Descends thus dreadful, we have cause to fear.
CEdi. O king ! thou corned in happy hour^ some
god
Propitious led thee hither.
The. Son of Laius !
7
3G6
SOPHOCLES.
(EDIPUS COLONEUS. — ACT IV.
367
What new event hath happened 1
CEdt. Know, my life 1320
At length is verging to its latest hour.
I wish to die ; but first my vows to thee
And to this city faithful must perform.
The. But who hath told thee thou so soon shalt die ?
(Edi. The gods themselves, who never utter false-
hood. 1326
By signs infallible have warn'd me of it.
The. How spake they to thee ?
CEdi. In repeated thunder
And lightning, from the all-powerful band of Jove.
The. I do believe thee, for thy prophecies
Were never false : but say, what must be done ? 1330
(Edi. O son of ^geus! I will tell thee all
The bliss reserved for thee in thy age ;
For thee, and for thy country : I must go
To my appointed place, and there shall die.
I go without a guide, nor must thou tell 1335
To mortal ear where CEdipus doth lie,
For ever hid. O king! that sacred place
Shall be thy sure defence, and better far
Than many a shield, or all the social aid
Of firm alliance in the field of war : 1340
What more remains, unutterable now.
Of higher import, thither when thou comest,
To thee alone shall be deliver'd ; naught
Shall I reveal, or to the citizens.
Or ev'n to these, beloved as they are, 1346
My pious daughters. Thou must ever keep
The solemn secret ; only,.when thy life
Draws near its end, disclose it to thy son,
Heir of thy kingdom, and to him alone :
From king to king thus shall the tale devolve, 1350
And thus thy Athens be for ever safe
Prom Theban force : even the best of cities,
Where justice rules, may swerve from virtue's laws,
And be oppressive ; but the gods, though late,
Will one day punish all who disobey 1356
Their sacred mandates : therefore, son of ^geus !
Be careful, and be just ; but this to thee
I need not say. Quick, let us to the place,
For so the gods decree : there must I go.
Thence never to return. Come then, my daughters !
Long have ye been my pious guides ; henceforth 1361
I must be yours ; follow, but touch me not.
Let me find out the tomb where 1 must hide
My poor remains ; that way my journey lies.
[pointing with his hand.
Away ! Thou god of shades, great Mercury, 1366
And Proserpine, infernal powers, conduct me!
O sightless eyes ! where are ye ? Never more
Shall these hands touch your unavailing orbs.
O light and life ! farewell : at length I go
To hide me in the tomb ; but, O ! for thee, 1370
My best beloved friend ! and this fair land.
And these thy subjects ;— may prosperity
Attend you still; and may you sometimes deign,
Amidst your bliss, to think on (Edipus! \.Ej:eunt.
CHORUS.
Goddess invisible ! on thee we call.
If thee we may invoke, Proserpina ! and thee.
Great Pluto, king of shades ! O grant.
That not, oppress'd by torturing pain,
Beneath the stroke of death he linger long ;
But swift, with easy steps, descend
To Styx's drear abode ;
For he hath led a life of toil and pain.
May the just gods repay his undeserved wo !
1376
1380
7
358
SOPHOCLES.
CEDIPUS COLONEUS. — ACT V.
359
Ye goddesses revered ! who dwell
Beneath the earth deep hid ; and thou, 1385
Who, barking from the gloomy cave,
Unconqucr'd Cerberus ! guard*st the ghosts below ;
On thee, O son of Tartarus ! we call,
For thou art ever wakeful : lead, O ! lead
To thy dark mansions this unhappy stranger. 1390
[^Exeunt.
ACT V.
MESSENGER, CHORUS.
Mes. O CITIZENS ! I come to tell a tale —
But to be brief, know, CEdipus is dead.
To speak the manner and strange circumstance
Of his departure, will require more words,
And calls for your attention.
Cho. Is he gone ? 13^5
Unhappy man !
Mes. For ever hath he left
The path of life.
Cho. How died he ? By the hand
Of Heaven dismiss*d, without disease or pain ?]
Mes. O ! 'twas a scene of wonder : how he left
This place, and, self-conducted, led us on, 1400
Blind as he was, ye all remember well.
Soon as he came to where the craggy steep.
With brazen steps, leads to the hollow gulf.
Where various paths unite, a place renown'd
For the famed league of Theseus and his friend, 1405
Between Acherdus and the Thracian rock,
On a sepulchral stone he sat him down ;
PuU'd off the filthy weeds he long had worn.
And bade his daughters instantly prepare
The bath and splendid garb : with hasty steps 1410
To Ceres' neighboring altar they repair
Obedient, bring the vessel, and the robe
Funereal. All things done, as custom bids
For dying men, sudden a dreadful clap
Of thunder shook the ground : the virgins trembled.
And clinging fearful round their father's knees, 1416
Beat their sad breasts, and wept. Soon as he heard
The sound portentous, he embraced his daughters ;
* Children !* he cried ' your father is no more ;
No longer shall you lead a life of pain, 1420
No longer toil for GEdipus. Alas !
'Twas dreadful to you ; but this day, my children!
Shall end your sorrows and my life together.
Never did father love his daughters more
Than I have loved, but henceforth you must live 1425
Without your CEdipus : farewell for ever!'
He spake, and long, in sad embraces joined,
They wept aloud : at length did clamorous grief
To silent sorrow yield, and all was still ;
When suddenly we heard a voice, that oft
Repeated, * GEdipus ! why this delay?
Where art thou (Edipus ?' The wretched king.
Attentive to the call of Heaven, desired
That Theseus might be sent for : Theseus came ;
When thus the dying exile :— * O my friend !
Give me thy hand : my daughters ! give him yours :
Let this my dearest Theseus ! be the pledge
Of amity between you ; promise here
That you will ne'er forsake my hapless children,
But henceforth cherish, comfort, and protect them.'
The generous king, in pity to their woes, 1441
Vow'd to perform what (Edipus desired.
The father threw his feeble arms around
His weeping children :— * You' he cried, ' must learn
To bear your sufferings with an equal mind, 1445
And leave this place, for not to mortal eye
1430
1435
/
360
SOPHOCLES.
tEDlPUS COLONEl'S. — ACT V.
381
Is given to see my future fate : a^ay. .
Theseus alone must stay, and f^* '* »"•
This did we hear him utter, »' '^f^f ""^ft hi„, USO
Attentive ; when his ''"t^o-f^f "^^ foflow'd them.
And went their way : *e *^P'' «"^ '°"° .
Soon we return'd, but ^^'Pf. ^ ^f^"" " .
The king alone remaining, as if strucK
A little after we beheld him bend
In humble adoration to the earth,
And then to Heaven prefer his ardent prayer.
nt the poor exile Vcr^sT^'^r.^JZe "60
But Theseus : nor tlje fie7,^!^'»,°^'°;*„t from Hea-
Uestroy'd, nor sea o'erwhelm d him , duv
Some Tssenger divine did snateh him hence,
Or power infernal bade the pitying earth
Open her peaceful bosom to "ce.ve him
Without a groan, disease, or P«'°. ^^/^ *
'Twas wondrous all : to those who "MoX
This strange report, I answer, 'tis most true.
Cho. Where are his daughters, with thew weeping
friends
Who follow'd them ? . ,.. r,, „(r .
Mes They cannot be far off.
ThTvoice of grief I hear proclaims them nigh. 1470
£„««• ANTIGONE, isiiENF,triM Attendants.
A«T Alas ! the time is come, when we must weep
Our father's fate, the fate of all his race,
Long since unhappy : various « ere he toils.
The labors we endured ; but this is far, ^^^^
Far above all, unutterable wo.
Cho. What is it? ^ ^ .^ ^^^^^^ ^^ conceived.
Ant.
1485
1490
Cho. Is he then dead ?
A.JJX. He is : his death was strange
Lnd wonderful ; for not in war he fell.
Tor did the sea o'erwhelm him, but the earth
lath hid him from us : deadly night hath closed 1480
>ur eyes in sadness. Whether o'er the seas
/e roam, or exiles in a foreign land
jead our sad days, we must be still unhappy.
Jas ! I only wish I might have died
1th my poor father: wherefore should I ask
i'or longer life ?
Cho. Ye good and pious daughters !
_lemember, what the will of Heaven decrees,
Iwith patience we must bear : indulge not, then,
[Excess of grief ; your fate hath not deserved it.
Ant. O ! I was fond of misery with him :
Jv'n what was most unlovely grew beloved,
Iwhen he was with me. O my dearest father !
JBeneath the earth now in deep darkness hid,
(Worn as thou wert with age, to me thou still
|Wert dear, and shalt be ever.
Cho. Now his course
[Is finished.
Ant. Even as he wishM, he died
In a strange land, for such was his desire ;
A shady turf cover'd his lifeless limbs :
Nor unlamented fell ; for, O ! these eyes,
My father ! still shall weep for thee, nor time
E'er blot thee from my memory.
Ism. Alas,
1 Alas, my sister ! what must be our fate,
Forlorn and helpless, of our father thus
[Bereft?
Cho. His end was happy ; therefore cease
I Your fruitless tears : from sorrow none is free. 1505
soph, _ 2 a
1495
1500
362
SOPHOCLES.
(EDIPUS COLONEUS. — ACT V.
363
Ant. Let us begone.
Ism. But where?
Ant ^ ^'^^^
Ism.
Ant. To see the tomb.
Ism Whose tomb ?
j^^^ Our father's. O !
IsM.' But is it lawful ? Know'st thou that ?
ANT. Why thus
Reprove me, my Ismene ?
Ism. He> yet
Unburied, and without
ji^^j^ O ! lead me there, 1510
Then kill me if thou wilt ; for where, alas !
Can I betake me.
Cho. Friends ! be comforted.
Ant. Where shall I fly ? , , j
Cho^ Thou hast already scaped
TJnnumber'd ills.
Ant. I'm thinking, my Ismene !
IsM.' What think'st thou ?
Ant How we shall get home.
Cho! r No more;
Thou hast been long familiar with affliction. 1 516
Ant. My life hath ever been a life of pain
And sorrow, but this far exceeds them all.
Cho. The storm beats hard upon you.
ANT. ^ • ^^ ^^^^•
Cho. I know it must.
Ant. O ! whither shall we fly ? li>20
Great Jove ! what hope remains ?
qhq Suppress your gritjfs ;
We should not weep for those who wish'd to
die, 4, • t
And meet their fate with pleasure ; 'tis not just
1530
Nor lawful to lament them.
[Ejceunt Messenger and Attendants.
Enter Theseus.
Ant. Son of iEgeus !
Suppliant to thee we come.
The. What would ye of me ?
Ant. Permit us but to see our father's tomb. 1526
The. It is not lawful.
Ant. O ! what say'st thou, king ?
The. Know, pious virgins ! GEdipus himself
Forbada that any should approach his tomb :
That sacred spot which he possesses there
No mortal must profane : to me, he said,
If careful I performed his last command.
Should joy and safety come, with victory
And peace to Athens : this your gods did hear
Confirmed by the sacred oath of Jove.
Ant. If such our father's will, we must submit :
But, O ! permit us to revisit Thebes,
That so we may prevent the impending fate
Of our dear brothers.
The. All that you request.
Or may be grateful to that honor'd shade,
Whose memory we revere, I freely grant ;
For I must not be weary of my task.
Cho. Remember, virgins! to repress your sorrows.
And cease your fruitless grief; for know, 'tis all
Decreed by fate, and all the work of Heaven. 1545
end of SOPHOCLES.
1535
1540
H
¥•>
^L*