Jamey HECHT Sophocles Three Theban Plays

W O RD S W O RT H C L A SSIC S O F W O R L D L IT E R A T U RE G eneral E ditor: T om G riffith wvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZ T H R E E T H E B A N PL A Y S Sophocles T hree T heban P lays wvutsrqponm A N T IGO N E O ED IPU S T H E TY R A N T O EDIPU S A T C O LO N U S ❖ Translated, w ith an Introduction and N otes, by JA M EY H EC H T W O R D SW O R T H C LA SSIC S O F W O R L D L IT E R A TU R E This edition published 2004 by W ordsw orth Editions Lim ited 8B East Street, W are, H ertfordshire sc 12 QHJ ISBN I 84022 I44 5 This edition © W ordsw orth Editions Lim ited 2004 Introduction, T ext and N otes © Jam ey H echt 2004 XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFED W ordsw orth® is a registered tradem ark of W ordsw orth Editions Lim ited A ll rights reserved. T his publication m ay not be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transm itted in any form or by any m eans, electronic, m echanical, photocopying, recording or otherw ise, w ithout the prior perm ission of the publishers. T ypeset by A ntony G ray Printed and bound in G reat B ritain by M ackays of C hatham , C hatham , K ent C O N T E N T S XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFED vn Introduction N o te on the T ranslation xxin Suggestions fo r F urther R eading X XV I F irst P erform ance N o te on A n tig o ne An i t ig o n e Oe d ipu s t h e X X VIII Ty r a n t 49 O e d ip u s a t C o l o n u s 107 N o tes 173 IN TR O D U C T IO N XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIH T ra g ic W isd o m G reek tragedy is a kind of scripture that teaches us by show ing, not telling, w hat w e need to know . I call it a scripture because it is a religious discourse about hum an beings and their relationships to the divine realm of abundance and to the m aterial w orld of scarcity. B ut it is also dram a, a scripted m atrix of interpersonal w ords and actions, as hum an and social as any conversation in the audience. L ike all dram a, tragedy is about individuals, but it also speaks to public life — T hebes and A thens and C orinth are not just crow ded places but living societies w ith their ow n crises, w ounds, and needs. O edipus him self is a gifted m an, endow ed w ith an intellectual pow er that exposes him to special dangers. B ut he is also the E verym an that Freud m ade him . T hough m ost people are spared the crim es of patricide and incest, and though psychoanalysis m ay have been w rong to posit a repressed yearning for them in every heart, it rem ains perm anently true that nobody is in com plete control o f his ow n destiny. Just as w e, the audience, can read the very script w hich the characters m ust live out, so the gods can read the fates w hich w e m ust live out. T ragedy puts us (for once!) in the divine position of the invulnerable spectator, free to experience a safe terror as w e identify w ith the endangered hero; free to feel a guarded pity for him insofar as w e enjoy our blessed distance from his ruin. A ustere as it is, the art o f Sophocles com es closer to life than any treatise on ethics could. It is free o f precepts and instruction; w ithin it, only experience teaches. Indeed, the w ork o f grow ing up and old has in com m on w ith these tragedies the pow er to disclose necessary know ledge w ithout the distortions that com e w ith direct T H RE E T H E BA N PLA Y S V IH expression. A s O edipus learns, direct expression doesn ’ t w ork anyw ay : he and Laius are each given clear oracles w hich they cannot successfully exploit. A pollo is not silent, but m ortal persons lack his divine leverage upon their ow n affairs; w ithout it, they can ’ t use w hat they ’ ve been told. A ny person, couple, fam ily, or nation that has ever disregarded a prescient w arning w ill recognise the exquisitely hum an agony of the tragic hero and his people. It w as N ietzsche w ho found life in this w orld so unjust and horrific that it ‘ could only be justified as an aesthetic phenom enon. ’ For him , G reek tragedy show ed how the m ost grievous dilem m as and disasters have a w ild beauty w hich only suffering reveals. T here is a dangerous truth to this N ietzschean idea, because a m isreading m ight allow interested opportunists to claim that all XWVUTSRQ pain can be regarded as tragically beautiful, including w hatever they or their leaders m ay choose to inflict. B ut tragedy is a picture o f hum an suffering w hose m eaning inheres in its absolute inevitability; nothing could be m ore different from the sadist ’ s licence to deliberate cruelty.* A pollo destroys O edipus: not the Sphinx, not C reon, not som e invading arm y. In H om eric epic, A pollo physically strikes Patroclus betw een the shoulder blades, and soon the m an dies in battle. In Sophoclean tragedy, the god w ields the m an ’ s ow n nature as the instrum ent o f his destruction. T eiresias w arns ‘ A pollo is enough, ’ and in his eventual agony O edipus com bines this w ith his ow n responsibility: CH O RU S O you w ho have done terrible things, H ow did you endure the breaking o f your eyes? W hich o f the G ods had set you on? O ED IPU S It w as A pollo! A pollo, O m y friends T hat brought m y w icked sufferings to pass; B ut no one struck m y eyes B ut I m yself in desperation. * W hen H im m ler w rote in his diary ‘ W e w ere forced to com e to the grim decision that this people m ust be m ade to disappear from the free of the earth, ’ he w as pretending to overcom e a tragic dilem m a. In reality, his story w as a banal m elodram a, devoid of the m oral com plexity and IN TR O D U C TIO N IX T he god creates the conditions for the crim es w hich the m an com m its; then the m an, by w ay of his noble character, punishes him self. T his passage is special because it repeats H om eric m otifs — the question ‘ w hich of the G ods, ’ follow ed by the answ er ‘ A pollo,’ com es from the opening of the Iliad, XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCB and the im age of a blinded m an w ho attributes his m utilation to ‘ N o one ’ com es from the C yclops episode in the O dyssey. B ut the ethical structure is distincdy Sophoclean. In A n tig on e, the tyrant C reon issues an edict that crim inalises pious acts w hich the heroine then perform s, through her noble character; she opts for the punishm ent w hen she com m its the crim e, and m akes no effort to avoid capture. N ear the end, she tells Ism ene that ‘ I chose to die ’ ; but a little later she says H ades is leading her to the banks of the river A cheron, then says that C reon is leading her captive. T he god, the self and the other are brought into a special, disastrous kind of contact that irreversibly changes the people w ithout changing the god at all. In O ed ip u s the T yra n t, w e ’ re told of Laius that ‘ fate drove dow n into his pow er, ’ but w e also hear O edipus describe the stick-fight that killed the m an. In A n tig o ne, the ruined C reon says ‘ the G od struck dow n into m y head. ’ B ut in the sam e speech he takes the personal and hum an responsibility w e recognise from the prot ­ agonists o f the other plays: ‘ T he blam e o f it can never m ove / A nd be affix ed to som e m an ’ s guilt, aw ay from m ine! / It w as I . . . ’ It is crucial that the person at the centre o f the story be disposed to tragic suffering by his or her nature. W hat is irresistible is not sim ply the m ight o f the god, nor the epistem ic traps o f logical entailm ent that com prise the plot; it is the perform ed fret of the person ’ s life as he or she lives it. T he truth here disappears if w e hide it in the w ord ‘ character’ ; nobility is not som e constraint that forces O edipus to w ound him self, A ntigone to break a bad law , C reon to keep his w ord at all costs. N or is it a m agical property resting on a shelf in the m ind until the circum stances w arrant its use. It is an ethically strong m om ent that becom es aesthetically com pelling w hen view ed from the safety o f the am phitheatre or personal cost that beset a figure like C reon. H ere w as H im m l er ’ s next sentence: ‘ W e have tackled and carried it through w ithout our m en and our leaders suffering any dam age in their m inds and souls.’ X T H RE E T H E B A N PLA Y S the library. Tragic decisions are m ade at the peril of one ’s ow n m oral life. The w illingness to endure m eaningful suffering — no m atter how .futile - is the only route to the salvation (literally, ‘saving ’) of that m oral life w ithout w hich m eaning is im possible. XWV O rigins: D ionysus W hatever w e m ean by ‘ ancient G reek religion,’ it w asn ’ t organised around a w ritten text or a central holy site. N either a private devotional practice nor a doctrinal enterprise w ith expansive, w orld-dom inating am bitions, it w as a w ide range of local and pan ­ H ellenic cults, articulated in a com m on stock of stories (m yths) and a diverse array of sacrificial rites, divinatory procedures, prayers, and social-econom ic pieties. Term s like ‘ H induism ’ , ‘ Sufism ’ , and ‘ Shinto ’ share this quality of necessary convenience at the expense of explanatory rigour; each is just a point of departure for a m ore dem anding survey of the cultural plethora it denotes. W hile historical evolution tends to codify and hom ogenise every cultural form ation, the form ative period generally bristles w ith variation, syncretism , m d a fertile cross-pollination that m akes the beginnings m ore difficult for historians to extrapolate. Theatre em erges in the W estern w orld in the m id-sixth century BCE, w hen A thenian religion undergoes one of its m any trans ­ form ations. A lthough the origins of dram a have fascinated scholars for centuries, our understanding of this m ystery is likely to rem ain perm anently incom plete. T he starting point is a god, D ionysus, w hose w orship w as long thought to have com e into G reece from outside, som ew here in the Eastern regions that are now Syria and Turkey, perhaps by w ay of Thrace. W hile this god has special relevance to several different dom ains of G reek cultural life, D ionysus is m ost fundam entally the god of w ine. H e m ay have gained a reputation for Eastern origins because of the w ine trade from Phoenicia to G reece ( ‘ Phoinikos ’ is a colour w ord that m eans anything from red to purple — the colours of grapes and of the various dyes for w hich that region w as fam ous). This tradition of a non-G reek origin for D ionysus has recently been com plicated by the discovery of w hat seem s to be a very ancient G reek form of his nam e inscribed on tw o tablets from the M ycenaean period, one from Pylos and one from K hania on the IN T R O D U C T IO N XI island of C rete. G reek culture begins around 1650 b c e w ith the perm anent M ycenaean dom ination of that island, follow ed by the successful m ilitary expedition against Troy that probably took place around 1185 and w hich H om er im m ortalised in the XWVUTSRQPO Iliad. O ur know ledge of the M ycenaeans rests largely on the happy fact that they left a record of the econom ic basis of their civilisation. W hile that record is m osdy lim ited to the non-literary archives of the great palaces that dom inated M ycenaean society, it does contain sm all traces of the larger cultural picture, including the nam es of the m ost ancient G reek divinities like Zeus, H era, Poseidon, and A thena. Still, as R obert D rew s has argued, the G reeks are themselves a people or peoples w ho m igrated into the A egean region as part of the Indo-European expansion during the second m illennium b c e . So the pantheon can be rather crudely described as a com bination of tw o classes: gods w ho w ere com m on to the entire IndoEuropean family that spread over a vast area, to Ireland in the w est and India in the east; and local, pre-Indo-European gods w ho w ere picked up by proto-G reek m igrants en route to the A egean anc during the process of eventual settlem ent. N either of these fits w ith the idea of uniquely G reek origins for D ionysus nor for any other god. B ut there ’ s another sense in w hich D ionysus can be thought of as a stranger to the hum an w orld. W hereas other gods som etim es bring safety and assistance — as w hen H erm es gives O dysseus the antidote for C irce ’ s destructive m agic, or Ino brings him a veil that m agically prevents drow ning — D ionysus has a chaotic, boundary-breaking influence. H e ’ s the god of everything that threatens rational conscious choice: w ine, religious ecstasy, orgiastic violence (other than w ar, of w hich A res and A thena are the sponsors), orgiastic sex (other than the em otional attachm ents governed by A phrodite and Eros), and the strange form of possession that constitutes theatre. H is alternate nam e is B acchus, and the B aaheia w ere a w ilder form of his cult, fully available only to w om en: every other year, bands of fem ale w orshippers left the sane, rational, m ale precincts of hum an society and entered the savage, ecstatic, fem ale and borderless realm of m ountains and w ilderness in a shared D ionysiac trance that m ade them m ainades, ‘ m adw om en ’ . T he m ore civic form s of piety tow ard D ionysus w ere regulated in various seasonal festivals: the O schoph oria, a XII wvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJI THREE THEBAN PLAYS celebration of w ine and V intnery w ith a procession that carried grapevines; the XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA A nthesteria, a flow er festival involving drink from various sacred vessels as w ell as singing and story; and the tw o dram atic festivals, the Lenaea and the G reater D ionysia. W orship ofD ionysus seem s to have involved countless form s of m ovem ent betw een categories, the stable borders of w hich are civilisation ’s m ost basic achievem ent: the fem ale and the m ale gender roles, the dem os (com m on people) and the aristocracy, the urban and the natural, the raw and the cooked. B uilding on the w ork of C laude Levi-Strauss, structuralist interpreters of G reek tragedy such as C harles Segal have explored the w ay Sophocles contains the explosive energies liberated by this aspect of the A thenian psyche. From various sources including A ristotle, it appears that the D ionysia began as a ritual dance perform ed by a chorus of fifty m en m oving in a circle; they spoke or sang a kind of poetry called dithyram b, probably in unison, punctuated by the speech or song of a single chorus leader. In 534 BCE, an historically real individual nam ed Thespis invented dram a by stepping out of the chorus i■ thout ending or leaving its activity - and engaging it in dialogue. w as presum ably this advent of dialogue that turned ritual into leatre, and not the m ere addition of a new, separate stream of discourse beside the chorus. In talking to the chorus leader and his followers w hile rem aining inside the sym bolic fram e of D ionysian sacred space, Thespis becam e an actor. Friedrich N ietzsche em ­ phasised this continuity between the pre-thespian and the tragic phases of civic D ionysiac practice. H e claim ed that even before the supposed dialogic event of 534, dithyram b already involved the sam e kind of possession w e associate w ith an actor possessed by a character: for N ietzsche, the fully entranced chorus leader entered the role ofD ionysus. T hrough the agency of an enlightened despot nam ed Peisistratos, Thespis ’s innovation brought about a regular, annual com petition in the dram atic art. Each year, three chosen poets subm itted four w orks each — three tragedies and a ‘ satyr play ’ , a brief com edy featuring lustful, drunken beast-m en. A public official selected the com petitors from a larger pool of applicants in an audition process held m onths in advance, and appointed a prosperous citizen to pay the costs of hiring and organising the chorus. W e ’ re accustom ed to a form of theatre in w hich producers hope for a financial return on IN T R O D U C T IO N XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGF xni their investm ent, and audience m em bers pay to be entertained on an evening of their ow n choosing. The ancient theatre w as com pletely different in this regard. Just as the hero is both an individual and a figure for the w hole society and ultim ately for m ankind in general, so the audience m em ber is an individual social person w ho is also m uch m ore than that. W hatever the level of religiosity rem aining to it in the fifth century, the festival of D ionysus w as a profoundly civic occasion; it connected A thenians to one another and situated their political com m unity in the cosm os at large. A ll m ale citizens (and probably their w ives as w ell, though this rem ains controversial) cam e to the perform ance, and the society w as just sm all enough that the enorm ous outdoor am phitheatre seem s to have been adequate for the purpose — in his Sym posium , Plato estim ates an audience at thirty thousand. C hristian M eier has described the problem -solving dim ension of tragic dram a, in w hich A thens grappled w ith otherw ise intractable dilem m as of public affairs. In the Freudian tradition (unscientific, but alw ays interesting), it m akes sense to com pare this political aspect of tragedy w ith the role of dream s in the psychic econom y of each m an or w om an. W hat Freud called ‘ the dream -w ork ’ is a confrontation of issues for w hich the conscious, w aking m ind is illequipped. O n this analogy, the person ’ s rational m ind corresponds to the rational debate pursued in the Ecclesia ( ‘ public assem bly ’), w hile the tragic consciousness does som ething like the dream ­ w ork of the culture that produces it. C hristopher G ill and C . Fred A lford are am ong the scholars w ho m ake fruitful use of the psychoanalytic legacy in divergent w ays. Sophocles' L ife T he m ost shocking fact about this greatest of playw rights is that his seven surviving w orks are all that rem ain of som e 123 plays. Im agine finding that the First Folio w ere actually one seventeenth of Shakespeare ’ s total output, and you have som e em otional idea of the pathos in this loss. This is a fascinating story in its ow n right; and authors like Leo D euel and Leighton D . R eynolds narrate the often thrifting anecdotes of textual destruction and discovery that have accum ulated over the centuries. In 480 BCE, A eschylus fought in the B attle of Salam is against the X IV T H RE E T H EBA N PLAY S Persian invaders. Sophocles, bom in about 496, danced in the boys ’ victory chorus organised to celebrate that batde. Selection for such a chorus w as based partly on physical beauty; the young Sophocles had both natural graces and achievem ents, having w on prizes for w restling and m usic. O ne tradition, associated w ith a fourth century author called A ristoxenus, holds that the play ­ w right ’ s origins w ere m odest, and that his father w as a carpenter. B ut the other view , also supported by ancient sources, is that the s kill ed labour of Sophocles ’ father w as part of a larger enterprise of w hich he m ay have been the head; say, a m ilitary supplier. In that case, his fam ily w ere beneficiaries of the w ealth that flourishing trade and tribute brought into A ttica, w ealth w hich grew as A thenian regional pow er expanded. B ut w ith that expansion cam e a terrible price in political integrity as the city ’ s conduct ofits external affairs turned increasingly im perial, cynical, and som e­ tim es rapacious. Like Socrates (the philosopher of Plato ’s dialogues), Sophocles w restles w ith the cultural identity crisis developing in A thens at the tim e of its greatest achievem ents. And unlike Plato, Sophocles viewed the unfolding, glorious ordeal of the fifth century from the viewpoint of a participant and, later, as a retrospective thinker w ho rem em bers. In his first tragic com petition at the G reater D ionysia of 468, Sophocles w on first prize, all the m ore im pressive because A eschylus w as also com peting that year. A further tw enty-three victories follow ed, eighteen in the G reater D ionysia and six (or as som e sources have it, tw o) in the Lenaea. H e w on far m ore frequendy than any other com petitor, and w henever he did not w in, he took second place. N or w as this the result of happy luck w ith a few judges; at tw enty-eight years old, he w as so popular that his first contest required unusual m easures for the keeping of public order. A s his prodigious artistic career advanced, the city prevailed upon him for public service, w hich he rendered faithfully. A thens w as the dom inant centre of the D elian League, a system of m ilitary alliances originally designed to w ard off the threat of Persian aggression. It elected Sophocles to the post ofT reasurer in 443 b c e , no sm all responsibility since the repository at D elos housed the annual tribute sent to A thens (in exchange for security guarantees) from G reek cities all over the A egean. T w o years later, Sophocles w as chosen to serve as one of ten arm y generals, allegedly because IN T R O D U C T IO N XV XWVUTSRQ of the political w isdom dem onstrated in the recently produced A ntigone. H e fought at the battle of Sam os, a difficult naval engagem ent in w hich A thens eventually prevailed. In keeping w ith the social nature of his genius, he enjoyed the friendship of the period ’ s greatest statesm an, Pericles, m any of w hose vexing m oral questions seem to be reflected in the plays. V ictor Ehrenberg w as am ong the first scholars to investigate the im pheations of that friendship. H e and others have suggested that Sophocles ’ insight into Pericles ’ character and career m ay have shaped the figure of K ing O edipus; each considered him self a m an of rare intelligence and fortitude w hose passionate com m itm ent could save a plagueafflicted city. Tow ard the end of his life and after his death in 406, Sophocles cam e to be regarded w ith an adm iration am ounting to reverence. A profoundly religious person, he w as honoured around the year 420 w ith the opportunity to share his house w ith the sym bolic presence of the divine physician A sklepios. That hero-god ’ s sym bol w as a living, sacred snake, w hich Sophocles form ally received into his hom e, earning him the nam e D exios, ‘ the Receiver ’ . U nder that nam e, he w as honoured by a hero-cult of his ow n after his death in 406 at the age of ninety. H is longevity rem ains an im portant elem ent of his im age, partly because of an anecdote in Plato ’ s R epublic in w hich Sophocles is said to express relief that old age has freed him from the sexual appetites of the body. B ut m ore im portantly, the playw right ’ s alm ost incom parable pow ers of com position never failed him . H is dram a Philoctetes w as produced in 409, w hen he w as eighty-seven year old. It is am ong the w orld ’ s deepest statem ents about suffering, loss, and forgiveness, com parable w ith the B ook of Job and perhaps K ing Lear, but w ith very little else. H is last play, O edipus at C olonus, w as produced by his grandson in the year 401. A ntigone T he dates of first theatrical production (and therefore, approxim ate dates of com position) for the three Theban plays are: A ntigone: O edipus the T yrant: O edipus at C olonus: 442-441 429 401 T H RE E T H EBA N PLA Y S X VI B ut these three tragedies form a single story, since they are elaborations of a single system of m yths that w as centuries old in Sophocles ’ tim e (O edipus is m entioned, for instance, in H om er ’s O dyssey). The events in the story flow this w ay: I 2 3 O edipus the T yrant O edipus at C olonus A ntigone A lthough the narrative action of A ntigone happens after that of O edipus the T yrant and O edipus at C olonus, it is often printed ahead of the other tw o because it w as w ritten first. O edipus leaves tw o sons, Eteocles and Polyneices. B ut the very opening scene of A ntigone tells us that they have just died horribly, having killed each other in a civil w ar over the throne of Thebes. The m ale pow ers in A ntigone ’ s nuclear fam ily are all gone. H er . uncle C reon had been the ‘ G eneral ’ , a regent or custodian of the state during the youth of the tw o princes. Because of their deaths, he becom es king. N ow , this is not the direct violation that H am let experiences w hen his uncle becom es king by m urdering H am let ’s father, but C reon ’s ascension to the throne is a function of A ntigone ’ s bereavem ent. H aving spent her youth nursing her blind father, she too com es into her ow n w hen these brothers die; it is as if her life finally begins. In the A thenian dem ocracy and the legendary past w hich it im agines in tragic dram a, w om en ’s political existence is never supposed to happen, and A ntigone ’s defiance is explicitly treated as a violation of gender roles. T he story looks sim ple: Thebes suffers a civil w ar. Eteocles, the younger of the tw o princes, takes the throne, but Polyneices claim s it and brings an arm y from A rgos as his ally. Eteocles and the Thebans w in, but the brothers kill one another in battle. C reon, their uncle, becom es king. H is first act in office is the prom ulgation of an edict forbidding the burial of Polyneices, w hose arm y had killed T heban soldiers and attacked the city ’ s defences. N ow the only surviving children of O edipus are the dead m en ’ s sisters, A ntigone and Ism ene. B urying their kin is their sacred right and obligation, but the new king has just forbidden it on pain of death. Ism ene chooses to survive and obey, w hile A ntigone chooses to defy C reon and his law , w ell aw are that she m ust lose her life in punishm ent. She m akes a ritual burial over Polyneices and is XW IN T R O D U C T IO N X VII apprehended. C reon interrogates her and dispatches her to an under ­ ground crypt for im prisonm ent and eventual death by starvation. Then he argues about A ntigone ’ s case w ith her fiance — his ow n son H aem on - w ho claim s to represent public opinion. That argum ent ends the relationship between father and son, and C reon never sees H aem on alive again. As the C horus becom es increasingly anxious about C reon ’s conduct — w hich violates the dem ands of the gods by leaving Polyneices unburied, and by punishing A ntigone — the prophet Teiresias arrives. In a frightening speech, he explains that pestilence, w ar, and death w ill follow from C reon ’ s decisions. The king finally realises this, and frantically tries to prevent further harm , but he arrives at A ntigone ’s tom b to find his son H aem on dead beside her body. W hen a m essenger tells all this to Q ueen Eurydice, she kills herself in grief for her son. The m essenger then m eets C reon in the tom b and announces the queen's death. Though he rem ains alive, C reon is utterly ruined. W hile everyone in the play suffers, A ntigone and C reon are the tw o foci of a m onum ental ordeal w hich ultim ately destroys them . W hile A ntigone dies a physical death as the price for enacting her ethical identity, C reon lives to see his w hole life shattered by his ow n m istakes. A speech of H aem on com pares C reon to the unbending branch that breaks in the w inter flood, w hile those that bend in the current are saved. T he m etaphor is directed at C reon, but it applies just as w ell to A ntigone. Each is a rigidly passionate claim ant to the right, driven by the conviction that he/she know s exactly w hat m ust be done. O ne difference, how ever, is that A ntigone understands the cost of that rigidity before she m akes her choice; C reon does not. A nother difference is pow er: A ntigone is physically helpless, but her only responsibility is to her fam ily and the gods w ho govern fam ily obligations. C reon has the full pow er of the state at his disposal, but he bears an equally absolute responsibility for its governance. H is em otional loathing of the rebel Polyneices m ay be a m ajor factor in his decision to forbid the burial, but his consciously avowed m otivation is the need for m oral coherence: if the king does not punish traitors, the w hole society m ay disintegrate. Since a dead m an can only be punished one w ay, C reon com m its to it. O nce he does so, his ow n notion of authority denies him any recourse; until it is too late for recourse. X VIII T H R E E TH wvutsrqponmlkjihgfed EB A N PLA YS Oedipus the Tyrant Tragedy is not easy to appreciate. Even if one know s som ething about the ancient G reeks, has lived long enough to feel m ortal, and cares about som eone else enough to feel concerned about loss — even if one has achieved a healthy susceptibility to Sophocles ’ pow er - it is hard to let go of our m ore com fortable attitudes. M odem inheri­ tors of A thenian dem ocracy (in the various cultures w hich claim to espouse it) tend to grow up in an atm osphere of optim istic propa ­ ganda. The idea that hard w ork and education w ill alw ays conduce tow ard a happy life is perhaps central to the teaching of hum anities and social sciences in schools and universities on both sides of the A tlantic. Y et in these sam e classroom s people are encouraged to read A thenian tragedies in w hich the m ost zealous, gifted, public-m inded persons are brought to grief and horror through the unw anted tonsequences of their ow n efforts. M odem society is stuck w ith the ragic dram a, as the C hurch and its fellow m onotheist institutions are t■ uck w ith the B ook o f Job and Ecclesiastes. The plot of O edipus the T yrant is like a closed sculpture in logical space, a spellbinding m obius-strip of fate and decision that can ’t be resolved by hum an insight. C ausality seem s to flow in both directions, backw ard from a predicted future and forw ard from an irrevocable past. B ecause the action of the dram a takes place on a single day (near the m iddle of O edipus ’ life), the present is a turning pivot or hinge, that can neither be stopped nor controlled. T m e, the protagonist has a choice w hether to press forw ard w ith his ultim ately disastrous investigation, or leave w ell enough alone; but given the inner facts of his nature and the outer state of the city for w hose w elfare he is responsible, O edipus has to press forward. Laius, king of Thebes, receives a divine oracle from the shrine of A pollo stating that a son w ill kill him . W hen his w ife Jocasta gives birth, Laius arranges for the infant boy to be killed instead. This can ’ t be done directly, because infanticide is a religious crim e. So the royal parents use a practice that w as not rare in the ancient w orld: exposure. T hey send a servant to bring the infant O edipus out to the slopes of the w ild m ountain C ithairon, there to be abandoned and exposed to the elem ents, his feet pinned together w ith a stake. A C orinthian shepherd finds the infant and rescues him out of pity, taking him to K ing Polybus of C orinth and his IN T R O D U C T IO N X IX queen, M erope. They raise O edipus as their ow n son, but w hen a drunken m an calls him a ‘ counterfeit son ’ (i.e. adopted), he goes to A pollo ’ s oracle at D elphi for inform ation. There he hears the same oracle that had com e to Laius: that O edipus w ill kill his ow n father and beget children in a m arriage w ith his m other. In a desperately determ ined effort to avoid this, he flees the only parents he know s — Polybus and M erope, of C orinth — and goes in search of som e other life. A long the w ay, near a triple crossroads, he m eets an old m an w ith servants in a chariot. A fight ensues; O edipus kills the old m an and all the attendants but one. O edipus travels on and, near the city of Thebes, m eets w ith the Sphinx. She is a supernatural m onster w ho poses her fam ous riddle to one m an after another, killing them w hen they fail to solve it. O edipus hits on the correct answ er, and the Sphinx destroys herself. H aving saved the city, he m arries its w idow ed queen, Jocasta, and thereby becom es king. A fter several years of a successful reign, a plague breaks out. The action of the play begins at this point. Show ing the sam e courage and intelligence for w hich he has justly becom e fam ous, O edipus resolves to find the source of the plague w hich is killing his people. H e sends his brother-in-law , C reon, to the oracle of A pollo for inform ation. C reon returns w ith the new s that the plague com es from the presence of an unpunished m urderer in their m idst, the unknow n killer of Laius. N ow O edipus pronounces a curse on the guilty one, w hoever he is, and pledges to identify him . T hat investigation proceeds apace, until O edipus realises that Laius w as in fact the old m an w hom he killed in self-defence all those years ago. This is terrible enough, because the curse he invoked upon the m urderer of Laius is now fallen on his ow n head — one m ore exam ple of the king ’ s unw itting self-destruction. B ut the radically unique horror of his fate begins to em erge w hen this first question (w XWVUTSRQPONML ho killed Laius'?) inexorably converges w ith the next question: w ho am 1? As Teiresias points out, this is the riddle O edipus cannot solve, despite the skill w ith riddles he dem onstrated w hen he defeated the Sphinx. T he answ er com es in the form of a traveller from C orinth, w ho announces Polybus ’ death. In a som ew hat am azing coincidence, this C orinthian turns out to be the sam e shepherd w ho received the infant O edipus from the m an w ho first brought him to XX TH REE T H EB AN PLAY S C ithairon m ountain on Laius ’ orders. A n equally am azing co ­ incidence im m ediately follow s: O edipus sends for the sole survivor of his attack on Laius, and that m an turns out to be this very m essenger — the m an w ho brought him to C ithairon for his death, and then, through pity, to C orinth for his life. A ll the elem ents of the em erging truth m atch A pollo ’s prediction. H aving seen this, and having seen the naked body of his m other, he blinds him self w ith the pins that held her robe together. A fter a return to the stage and a piteous farew ell to his daughters, O edipus prepares to leave Thebes w ith C reon ’s eventual perm ission, and the play ends. W hen the m utilated O edipus leaves Thebes, never to return, he is repeating the m aim ing and expulsion that follow ed his birth; in a sense, he is reborn in the truth, having lived a falsehood until then. H e is also repeating his self-expulsion from C orinth, w hich was also a flight from royal status into hom eless exile. A lthough the com plete riddle of the Sphinx does not appear in the play, w e have the text from other sources, including a black ­ figure vase from the 520s: ‘ There is on earth a being tw o-footed, four-footed, and three-footed that has one nam e; and, of all creatures that m ove upon earth and in the heavens and in the sea, it alone changes its form . B ut w hen it goes propped on m ost feet, then is the sw iftness in its lim bs the w eakest.’ T he nam e O edipus has at least tw o derivations, of w hich the first com es from his terrible infancy: XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA oiddn to pode, ‘ w ith sw ollen feet ’ . H aving his two feet pinned together m akes of them a single, useless foot. The other derivation of O edipus is a com pound of oida, ‘ know ’ , pous, ‘ foot ’; he ’s the one w ho know s the riddle of the foot, yet he ’s the person to w hom the riddle does not apply. T he riddle ’ s answer is, of course, m an. B ut O edipus never w alked on tw o feet w ithout the w alking stick that m akes a third ‘ foot ’ in the riddle. A lm ost every line spoken by or about O edipus in this dram a has a double or even a triple m eaning. T he hero is only conscious of one m eaning, beneath w hose surface the bitter ironies of the other m eanings are coursing. A reader can open the play anyw here and apply his or her know ledge of the text and its story to discover double m eanings, som e that appear instantly and others that daw n on the reader after years of acquaintance w ith the Sophoclean w orld. IN T R O D U C T IO N X XI XWVUTSRQ O edipus at C olonus T he dates of the plays are not know n w ith certainty, but w e do know that O edipus at C olonus is the last of the plays. Sophocles died in 406, tw o years before the final defeat of A thens in the decades-long w ar w ith Sparta. T he playw right, m ore than ninety years old, seem s to create this play as a farew ell to life — and to the city of A thens w hich he served and w hich nurtured and rewarded him . A lthough he experienced the tragedy of the Peloponnesian W ar and the breakdown of the cultural order that w e associate w ith Classical A thens, he didn ’ t live to see its awful collapse of 404. T he first production of the C olonus w as directed by the poet ’ s grandson in 401. In the resolution of the play, O edipus ’ burial is said to confer the blessings of victory and prosperity upon A thenian soil forever, though the audience know s all too w ell that this does not prove true. T hough Sophocles m ay have seen the end com ing for A thens, there is som e historical pathos in the fact that it happened just after his death and just before, as it w ere, the first death of O edipus to be perform ed on the A thenian stage at the G reater D ionysia. T here is m eaning in the fact that A ntigone com es first in Sophocles ’ w riting life, but last in the narrative of the Theban plays. In 401 the audience of the playw right ’ s last w ork had either heard, or heard about, the A ntigone of forty years before. W hen the aged O edipus and the young A ntigone w alk into the district of C olonus at the border of A thenian territory, a stranger com es and urges them to leave their position. They have w andered onto sacred ground, a holy grove dedicated to a group of terribly pow erful goddesses called the Eum enides. A thenian elders are sum m oned, and they again tell O edipus to stop w hat they see as the sacrilege of his rem aining seated w here he is. A t that point A ntigone urges her father to obey the local custom s and do as they say. H ere, then, is A ntigone obeying a civic authority (in A thens) that is consistent w ith a religious sanction, just as in her ow n dram a she had disobeyed one that w asn ’ t (in Thebes) . This is one of the m any w ays in w hich the tw o cities are opposites, w ith Thebes as the sick city of tyranny and unregulated violence, and A thens as the healthy city of political reason and a bright future. In O edipus the T yrant, the hero began high up in the cosm os (an X X II T H RE E T H EB AN PLA Y S accom plished, gifted king) and ended as a beggar; here, the reverse occurs. O edipus ’ guilt and its pollution w ere at the heart of his identity and his destiny then; but now , the guilt is resolved into its origins: w e finally hear him explain that his patricide w as done in self defence, and his incest w as done in ignorance. T he pollution is dispelled. T his has m ore than one sufficient explanation. From the point o f view o f retributive justice, O edipus w as already punished severely, by his ow n hand, long ago. From the point o f view of religious pollution, the XWVUTSRQPONMLKJ m iasm a that m ade him an outcast from T hebes and the rest of the hum an com m unity has been reversed: it is divinely ordained that w hoever receives O edipus w ill enjoy good fortune. T his is not, how ever, an authorial squandering of the accum ulated m oral com plexity o f the story. W hereas the god at the end o f the B o o k o f Jo b sim ply blesses Job at the end o f that story, returning sevenfold all that the poor m an had lost, O edipus has to bring his dying body into an unknow n sacred place on his ow n decision. T hat entails an agonising scene of rejection in w hich tw o T heban claim ants try, and fail, to keep him connected to his old ife: C reon, w ho tries to force him back to T hebes, and his ow n ,on Polyneices, w ho tries to persuade him . T hough the play ends w ith the em ergence o f the holy, this is not a deus ex m achina that suddenly fixes it all. O edipus ’ ow n developm ent is outw ardly m anifest as the consum m ation o f his death and the establishm ent of that local A thenian hero-cult w hich m arks his greatness. W hat m akes death painful for aged m en and w om en is not regret, w e are told, but unfinished business. W hen this exhausted old m an dies at last, having resolved all his affairs that once seem ed so utterly irredeem able, his body seem s to disappear, as though the gods had sim ply rem oved him from the earth. T he ending o f the dram a of his old age f ulfills the ending o f the dram a o f his youth: fixing our gaze U pon life ’ s final day, w e shall call no m ortal happy , U ntil he cross the threshold o f this life, free from pain. N O T E O N TH E T R A N SL A T IO N A thenian tragedy is the recollection of a royal, legendary, distant past in the theatre of a civic, dem ocratic present. The chorus speaks in an archaic, m etrically grand idiom that evokes the enorm ous stakes for w hich the legendary principals are playing. W e have a sim ilar institution in our ow n culture, an institution called Shake ­ speare, in w hich post-m odern A m erican audiences and readers confront kings and queens thinking, feeling, and fighting in Eliza ­ bethan diction. Just as in A thenian tragedy, the height of the style conveys the nostalgia of the aristocracy, the cosm ic terror and the irreversible spiritual risks that kings and their fam ilies inflict and suffer, and the deep and urgent sense that these poor beings on the stage are ourselves. This is a verse translation because the original is verse. The translation is XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA blank verse because that is the m etre of high dram a in English. M y goal w as a faithful rendering of the G reek into m em orable English, show ing as m any of the logical structures of Sophoclean ideation and idiom as possible. Sophocles is rhetori ­ cally situated betw een the aristocratic declam ation of A eschylus and the m ore m odem , conversational language of Euripides; m oreover, the action of these plays concerns the affairs of royal persons and their fam ilies. Therefore I had to w ork in an English that w ould answ er to the dignity of Sophocles ’ poetry, but rem ain accessible to a contem porary audience. This required a high style, tuned to the peculiar urgency of ancient, royal, dram atic action. Like O edipus the T yrant, Shake ­ speare ’ s H enry V , Julius C aesar, H am let, and C oriolanu s are built of dialogue and soliloquy laden w ith all the conventions of sover ­ eignty: entreaty, perm ission to speak, defiance, retort, forensic and XXIV T H RE E T H E BA N PLA Y S deliberative speeches, the contribution of advice and its dismissal, the m arvelling of the bystanders as the king succeeds or fails . Those speech-situations are bound to develop w herever a king rules: they are com m on to pre-dem ocratic A thens and Elizabethan England. W hile m odem A m erican language m ight be interesting in an XW adaptation of Sophocles, this is a translation. Therefore it aspires to be Sophoclean, and it happens that Shakespeare is especially useful for this. There appear to be a num ber of m atches betw een the gram m ar of A ncient G reek and late sixteenth century English. G reek em ploys, for exam ple, the double disjunction — it says ‘ or X or Y ’ rather than ‘ either X or Y ’ ; som ething English no longer does, but once did beautifully: ‘ M y learned Lord, w e pray you to proceed, / A nd justly and religiously unfold, / W hy the Law Salique, that they have in France, / O r should, or should not, bar us in our claim . ’ H enry V , I, 2. I believe 1 have a precedent like this one for every archaism I have used, and on the w hole I have tried to translate as sim ply and as accurately as possible. There is no danger of conflating the historically specific form s of governance and religion found in A ncient A thens (or Thebes) w ith those of 16th C entury England: the text of Sophocles and the idiom of Shakespeare already possess a com m on stock of tropological and gram m atical resources. B y ‘ the idiom of Shake ­ speare ’ I do not m ean, except in a few cases, that I have stolen phrases from the B ard; I m ean that I ’ve em ployed w hat M oses H adas called ‘m oderate [rather than] extrem e archaism ’ of an Elizabethan, and not a V ictorian, type. I have laboured to let the G reek legal, political, m antic, and supplicatory institutions take up som ething like the em otional space they occupy in the G reek. A ccordingly, I have capitalized the nouns ‘ G od ’ and ‘ the G ods ’ throughout (but not the adjectives ‘ godlike,’ ‘ godly, ’ or ‘ godless ’), although this is som ew hat unconventional, because the conven ­ tion arose in the context of a m onotheist philology protecting its practitioners from blasphem y. T he low ercase g at the beginning of ‘ the gods ’ im m ediately and unconsciously turns off w hatever religious seriousness m ight otherw ise be available to the reader ’s experience. A m ore Sophoclean alternative is to signify the m ajesty of the pow ers of A thenian religion by capitalizing the w ord (in both the singular and the plural), and a precedent can be found for this approach in W alter O tto ’s T he H om eric G ods. T he w ork of N O T E O N T H E T R A N SL A T IO N XXV R uth Padel does a sim ilar job, on m ore psychological grounds. A ll noun s are capitalized in G erm an, so this typographical issue does not arise in N ietzsche ’ s XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCB B irth o f T ragedy fro m the S p irit o f M usic, but there is no m istaking the tone of N ietzsche ’ s joyful seriousness about A pollo and D ionysus, a tone I find w orthy of em ulation. C onsider the judgm ent of M oses H adas, in his 1967 introduction to Jebb ’ s prose translation: A reader w ho attends to Sophocles as a m onum ent in the history o f the hum an spirit m ay find transparent prose a truer reflection than verse. B ut the prose m ust not be com m onplace, as it m ay be for E uripides; it m u st com m unicate the stately rem oteness o f the original. T he m ost carefully w rought prose version is that of Sir R ichard C laverhouse Jebb (1841-1905), w hich has the m erit not o n ly o f extrem e accuracy but also o f m aintaining a high fo rm a lism and d ign ity appropriate to Sophocles, [m y em phasis] F or this, Jebb quite logically em ployed a prose idiom w ithout lineation, setting the choruses and the long speeches, or soliloquies, in paragraph form . B ut Jebb ’ s prose is m ore poetic than the poetry o f m any m id-century translators. Professor H adas did, in editing Jebb for the B antam reprint, ‘ substitute m oderate for extrem e archaism ... in cases w here the m odem reader m ight be puzzled ’ , but on the w hole he let Jebb ’ s version stand, as a m ajor statem ent of w hat this play sounds like w hen it ‘ m aintains a high form alism and dignity appropriate to Sophocles ’ . H adas continues: Jebb ’ s device for lending dignity to a prose version of stately poetry w as to use archaism in vocabulary, w ordform s, w ord order — in a w ord, to em ulate the E nglish of the K ing Jam es B ible. T his w as no m ere device: Jebb knew that w hen m odem readers heard the language o f W illiam T yndale and his late-T udor and early Jacobean successors, they w ould be rem inded o f kingship, of religious crisis, o f the persistence of the past in the present. In the language o f the K ing Jam es translators (w hose A uthorized V ersion rem ained overw helm ingly indebted to the solitary w ork of T yndale), the authority and the peril of both the B iblical and the E lizabethan pasts cast their rhetorical spell on m odernity. Shake ­ speare ’ s idiom com es from the sam e phase o f our language ’ s xxvr T H RE E T H E BA N PLA Y S developm ent; in it, too, w e can hear hum an speech ascend to prophetic heights. I enjoyed the assistance of the follow ing editions and com mentaries: N icolas P. G ross ’s 1988 B ryn M aw r C om m entary on A ntigone: Lew is C am pbell and Evelyn A bbott ’s 1878 O xford C larendon O edipus at C olonus; Richard C laverhouse Jebb ’s 1900 C om plete W orks o f Sophocles, T exts and Fragm ents; G ilbert R ose ’s 1988 B ryn M aw r C om m entary on O edipus at C olonus; The Perseus D igital Library, Tufts U niversity; G regory C rane, Editor in C hief. The follow ing people read portions of the m anuscript and pro ­ vided advice and encouragem ent: Seth B enardete, Frank B idart, ' Jack C ollins, Jonathan G alassi, Tom G riffith, R achel H adas, Eugene H echt, A li H ossaini, Stephen Klass, Fyodor K orzhukhin, Julie K unzie, G regory M cNam ee, G regory N agy, A lan Shapiro, and A lan Thom as. I also w ish to thank Eugene G oodheart of Brandeis U niversity, w ho granted the tuition for m y attendance at the C ity U niversity of N ew Y ork ’ s L atin G reek Institute in 1992. SU G G E ST IO N S FO R FU RTH ER R E A D IN G A eschylus, Seven XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA A gainst Thebes Frederick A hl, Sophocles' O edipus: E vidence and Self-C onviction, C ornell U niversity Press, 1991. C . Fred A lford, T he P sychoanalytic T heory o f G reek Tragedy, Y ale U niversity Press, 1992. Jean A nouilh, A ntigone Seth B enardete, Sacred Transgressions: A R eading o f Sopho cles ’ A ntigone, St. A ugustine ’ s Press, 1999. W alter B urkert, G reek R eligion, H arvard U niversity Press, 1987. R ebecca B ushnell, P rophesying Tragedy: Sign and V oice in Sophocles' T heban P lays, C ornell U niversity Press, 1988. SU G G E ST IO N S FOR FU RT H E R R E A D IN G X X VII L eo D euel, XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA T esta m en ts o f T im e: T h e Search fo r L o st M anuscripts and R ecords, K nopf, 1965. R obert D rew s, T h e C o m ing o f the G reeks: Indo-E uropean C onquests in the A eg ea n a n d the N ea r E a st, P rinceton U niversity Press, 1988. R obert D rew s, T h e E n d o f the B ro n ze A g e: C hanges in W arfare and the C atastrophe ca. 1200 B .C ., P rinceton U niversity Press, 1993. V ictor E hrenberg, Sophocles a n d P ericles, B asil B lackw ell, 1954. Joseph Fontenrose, T h e D elphic O racle: Its R esponses a n d O pera ­ tions, U niversity o f C alifornia Press, 1978. C hristopher G ill, P ersonality in G reek E pic, T ragedy, a n d P h ilo ­ sophy: T he S e lf in D ialogue, O xford U niversity Press, 1996. C hristian M eier, T h e P olitical A rt o f G reek T ragedy, Johns H opkins U niversity Press, 1993. F riedrich N ietzsche, T he B irth o f T ragedy F rom the S p irit o f M usic, originally published 1872. L eighton D . R eynolds and N .G . W ilson, Scribes and Scholars: A G u id e to th e T ransm ission o f G reek a n d L a tin L iterature, O xford U niversity Press, 1965. C harles Segal, T ra g ed y a n d C iviliza tio n : A n Interpretation o f Sophocles, U niversity o f O klahom a Press, 1981. C harles Segal, O ed ip u s T yra n n u s: T ragic H eroism a n d the L im its o f K n o w led g e, T w ayne, 1993. C harles Segal, Sopho cles ’ T ragic W o rld , H arvard U niversity Press, 1995W illiam Shakespeare, K in g L ea r M . S. Silk and J. P. S tem , N ietzsch e on T ra g ed y , C am bridge U niversity Press, 1981. Phillip V ellacott, Sophocles a n d O ed ipu s, U niversity o f M ichigan Press, A nn A rbor, 1971. Jean-Pierre V em ant and P ierre V idal-N aquet, M yth a n d T ragedy in A n cien t G reece, Z one B ooks 1988. FIR ST PER FO R M A N C E N O TE O N A N T IG O N E This translation of XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA A ntigone was first perform ed in the theatre at Chasham a, on 42nd Street in N Y C. M ichael M cC artney played the role of C reon; John Breen, A ntigone; Jason Stevens, Teiresias; Jam ey H echt, Eurydice; Patrick Burch, H aem on; D an Laughlin played the Page. A ntigone ran from N ovem ber 25 to D ecem ber 10, 2000. A B B R EV IA TIO N S The standard abbreviations of the titles of Sophocles ’ s three Theban plays are: A ntigone: O edipus the Tyrant: O edipus at C olonus: A nt O .T. O .C. L IN E N U M BE R IN G T he line num bers accom panying the text refer to the English translation. The line num bers at the top of each page refer to the original G reek text. D E D IC A T IO N T his translation is dedicated to the m em ory of R o be r t F r a n c is Ke n n e d y w ho loved G reek tragedy and, in the year o f m y ow n birth, perished in his attem pt to enact the C lassical ideal of public life. XWVUTSRQPONMLKJ In our sleep, p a in w hich cannot fo rg et fa lls drop by drop upo n the heart u n til, in our ow n despair, against our w ill, com es w isdom through the a w fu l grace o f G od. A eschylus, A g a m em n o n , 176 wvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA ! A N T IG O N E XWVUTSRQPONMLKJ E n ter a n t i g o n e and i s m e n e A N T IG O N E O m y ow n dear sister, Ism ene, D o you know o f a single evil, am ong all the sorrow s of O edipus, W hich Z eus has not yet fulfilled in our tw o Eves, his daughters? In our troubles I have seen nothing painless, N othing free o f ruin, sham e, dishonour; A nd w hat is this announcem ent, that even now T he G eneral declares to all the city ’ s neople? D o you know ? H ave you heard o f it? O r have they eluded you, T hese evils com ing from our enem ies and tow ard our dear ones? ISM E N E N o story has com e to m e, A ntigone, o f dear ones: io N either sw eet nor painful, since w e tw o w ere bereaved O f both our brothers on a single day, each by the other ’ s hand D estroyed. B ut since the A rgive arm y vanished in the night, and now is gone, I know o f no events m ore recent, w hether happy or disastrous. A N T IG O N E I knew that w ell, and sum m oned you on that account B eyond the courtyard, that you alone m ight hear m e. ISM E N E W hat is it? Y our face is coloured by som e secret. A N T IG O N E C reon has exalted one o f our brothers w ith burial. H e has w ithheld it from the other, and dishonoured him — H as he not? T hey say that E teocles is hidden in the ground, W ith justice and just treatm ent under law , below , am ong the honoured dead. B ut the corpse o f Polyneices, w ho died in agony, A ll citizens are forbidden, by decree, to hide w ith burial N o r m ay anyone lam ent him , but he goes unw ept, unburied, 20 2 T H R E E T H E B A N PLA Y S 2SHS5 A nd far-sighted carrion birds are glad of their sw eet treasure. T he good C reon, they say, has m ade announcem ent to you A nd to m e — I do include m yself — o f these affairs, A nd now he com es here to proclaim to those w ho have not heard, T hat it be clearly know n: even to begin this deed, in the least degree, W hoever does so, his portion shall be public execution. 30 T hus stand your affairs; and you w ill soon show W hether you w ere bom w ith a noble nature, O r as the w icked daughter o f a noble line. ISM E N E M y sad-hearted sister, if circum stances lie thus, W hat could I gain B y loosening or tightening their strings? A N T IG O N E T hink on it: w ill you w ork w ith m e, and be m y ally? ISM EN E H ow great is the risk? W hat have you in m ind? A N T IGO N E W hether you w ill take up his body, W ith this hand. 40 ISM EN E D o you really m ean to bury him , though the city forbids it? A N T IG O N E H e w as, w hether you approve or not, your brother and m ine. I w ill never be condem ned as a traitor to him . ISM E N E O stubborn heart! D espite C reon ’ s decree? A N T IG O N E It is not for him to keep m e from m y ow n. ISM E N E O h, m e! C onsider, m y dear sister, our father: H o w he perished in infam y, despised; S elf-convicted for his double fault, W orking his ow n w ill he struck his eyes W ith his ow n hand: w hen his w ife and m other — one double w ord — D estroyed her life in the tw isted noose. T hirdly, o u r tw o brothers on a single day ruined one another, 50 56-85 3 A N TIG O N E O ne m iserable fete in com m on, accom plished by each other ’ s hands. N ow consider us tw o survivors, how m ost horribly w e w ould die, If against the law ’ s force w e should transgress our sovereign ’ s w ill; B ut think on this, you m ust: w e are by nature w om en A nd it is not for us to do battle w ith m en. T herefore are w e ruled by the stronger, A nd m ust heed his decree; this, and w orse yet. For m e then, I beseech this ground ’ s genius 60 T o hold out pardon: even if it injure m e I shall obey those w ho have com e to pow er. A nd to do too m uch is to be heedless. A N T IG O N E N o m ore w ill I ask you, and no m ore, N o m atter if you yet should find yourself W illing to perform it, shall you share in m y sw eet labour;1 B ut know : how ever it appears to you, I w ill bury that m an. T o die for this Seem s to m e noble: I shall lie dow n w ith m ine ow n, A nd m y brother w ith m e, having dared to be pious. 70 F or I m ust please those dow n below for a longer tim e T han I m ust please these here, since I shall lie there forever. B ut you, dishonour w hat the G ods hold w orthy o f honour, A s you see fit. ISM E N E I have done them no dishonour, but by nature I have no guile to act against the pow er o f the State. A N T IG O N E Y ou m ay w ell say so. B ut I shall find a w ay T o heap up burial upon m y dearest sibling. ISM E N E O w retched w om an, how I fear for you — A N T IG O N E Fear not for m e, but set your ow n fate in order. ISM E N E D isclose this deed to no one; keep it hidden A s our secret, as I shall w ith you. 80 4 T H R EE T H E B A N PLA Y S 86-iro A N T IG O N E O h, speak it out! If you keep silent, If you fail to m ake a public proclam ation, Y ou w ill be far m ore hateful to m e. ISM EN E A hot heart you have, for cold affairs. A N T IG O N E B ut I am certain I delight those w hom I m ust. ISM E N E If indeed you can: but you ask the im possible. A N T IG O N E N ot so: I w ill stop w hen m y strength fails. ISM E N E U nseem ly, to begin a hopeless task. 90 X A N T IG O N E If those are your sentim ents, I w ill hate you A nd justly w ill the dead despise you as their enem y. T herefore leave m e to m ine ow n poor counsel T o suffer this extrem ity: but no penalty can befall So great as to deprive m e o f a noble death. [E xit A n tig o n e on th e spectators ’ left ISM EN E G o then, if you see it thus. B ut know , Y ou m ove on thoughtlessly, T hough righdy dear to your dear ones. [Ism ene retires in to the palace by one o f th e tw o side-doors E n ter th e c h o r u s F irst C h o ra l O d e 1 CHORUS B eam o f the sun, m ost beautiful o f lights T hat first shone on seven-gated T hebes, A t last you are revealed G olden eyelid o f the daw n M ounting on the D ircean stream s. T he w hite-shielded A rgive all in arm our w as expelled, A fugitive running onw ard, driving w ith a sharper rein W ho from our land because o f Polyneices ’ quarrel, IOC III — 152 A N T IG O N E 5 B itterly shrieking like an eagle flew abov e the earth, W ings covered in w hite snow , carrying countless w eapons A nd helm ets plum ed w ith hair o f horses; A nd standing his m urderous spearm en in a ring no T hat gaped around our seven-gated city, H e left before our blood could fill his jaw s; B efore the pinew ood torches of H ephaestus C ould take our crow n of tow ers. So far the crashing noise o f A res ran, R aised loud around our backs; A grievous w restling o f the dauntless serpent. F or Z eus despises the noise o f a boasting tongue; A nd seeing them com ing like a m ighty stream W ith the arrogant din of clanging golden arm s, 120 H e cast at one H is spear of fire W ho m oved upon the highest citadel A lready hastening to cry, XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIH V ictory! D ow n upon the solid ground he fell, Sw inging, still carrying his fire W ho w ith the m ad m otions o f the B acchanal E xhaled the blasting w inds o f his m ost hateful w rath. B ut his threats m iscarried; A nd here and there gigantic A res in the lead D ealt out, upon the rest, H is grievous blow s. 130 F or seven captains, ranged against their equals B efore our seven gates L eft behind the brazen tribute T o Z eus w ho turns the tide o f w ar: E xcept tw o m iserable m en B om from one m other, one father; E ach w as poised upon the other ’ s spear A nd took his portion o f their com m on death. B ut since the m ighty nam e o f V ictory C am e to T hebes o f the C hariots W hose rejoicing answ ered hers, A fter this late w ar let us forget A nd turn to the nightlong C horus 140 6 wvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHG T H R E E T H E BA N PLA Y S 153-187 A t all the tem ples of the G ods, A nd let the C horus leader be the Bacchus of Thebes W ho shakes the earth. B ut this king of our land, B y the recent dispensation of the G ods, O ur leader new, C reon son of M enoeceus — A t w hat thought is he w orking T hat he has called this gathered synod of the elders Sending us all the sum m ons? >5< E nter c r e o n C RE O N 3 O m en, our state ’s affairs w ere shaken W ith trem ors m any and severe; but the im m ortal G ods H ave safely set them right again. Therefore by m essengers H ave I caused you out of all our folk to join m e here, K now ing that you w ell reverence the eternal pow er O f Laius ’ m ighty throne, and that w hen O edipus ruled A nd steered the city straight, and w hen he died, Y ou cared for all the issue of that house W ith steadfast thoughts and loyal. Therefore, Since on a single day those brothers w ere dispatched By double portions of a single fate, striking and stricken A nd stained w ith a kinsm an ’s m urder, I now hold all the pow er and the throne By kinship closest to the heirs w ho perished. N ow , one cannot know the thoughts and the m ind A nd the soul of a m an, until he has been show n Tested by the duties of his rule, and by his law s. For any m an w ho rules a city, and w ill not cleave T o the best of plans, but out of fear confines his tongue — Such a one has alw ays seem ed to m e to be the w orst of m en, A nd so I still believe. A nd any m an w ho ow es allegiance G reater to his ow n dear kin than to his country, I call that m an no m an at all. For I — A nd m ay Zeus know this, w ho w atches all m en alw ays — Should I see ruin com ing on our tow n In sw eet salvation ’s stead, I w ould not be silent; N or w ould I ever call m y ow n l6< 170 i8 8 -2 i6 A N T IG O N E A m an w ho m oved against this realm 7 180 T hat is our saviour. A nd I know this: T hat only w hile this ship of state sails evenly and w ell C an w e m ake our private loves. Such are the rules by w hich I hope to prosper T hebes. A nd now I hold it w ell proclaim ed, to all the tow n, C oncerning those tw o brothers both, T he children all o f O edipus derived: E teocles, w ho perished fighting for this city, D istinguished to the last degree for valour w ith the spear, Is to be hid w ith burial, and all the rites over the grave 190 W hich follow to the underw orld T he corpses of the noble dead. B ut this m an ’ s blood relation — I speak o f Polyneices — w ho returned from exile, W illing to bum the land w ith fire, D ow nw ard from the topm ost stone; T o bum the tem ples o f his people ’ s G ods, W ho w ould have tasted his countrym en ’ s blood, L eading the rem ainder into slavery — O f him the proclam ation has been m ade 200 T o this our city, that none m ay bury or bew ail him in the least, T hat he be left unburied, his flesh disfigured F or all to see, a prey to the vultures and the dogs. 4 Such are m y intentions, and never on m y account Shall the w icked be honoured before the just; B ut w hoever is w ell-disposed tow ard our state, L iving or dead, he shall be honoured by m e. C H O RU S T hat pleases you, C reon child o f M enoeceus, R egarding this city ’ s friend and its enem y; A nd it is possible for you to use the law H ow ever you w ill, over the dead A s over us living m en. C RE O N A nd now , be w atchful over this decree. C H O RU S S et a younger m an to bear this task. 210 8 T H R E E T H E B A N PL A Y S 217-240 C RE O N B ut there are guards already posted round the corpse. CHORUS T hen w hat is this that you com m and besides? C RE O N T hat you give no quarter to transgressors. CHORUS N one is so foolish that w ay, as to love dying. CRE O N Indeed, that is the paym ent for it. B ut m any tim es A m an has perished from the hope o f profit. XWVUTSRQPON 22c E n ter the g u a r d G U A RD M y lord, I w ill not say that I com e short o f breath, H aving sprung here on fight, nim ble feet: For m any tim es I stopped to think, A nd circled in the road and turned m yself around, For m y soul kept talking and telling m e, W retched m an! W hy go on, T ow ard a place o f punishm ent? M iserable one, are you tarrying again? A nd if C reon should hear the new s From som e other m an, how w ouldn ’ t you suffer? 2.3c A nd turning that sort o f thing over and over in m y m ind, W ith slow and halting steps I m ade m y w ay A nd thus the short road w as m ade very long. B ut in the end I m anaged to arrive here, T o com e to you; and if I can say little, I w ill speak nonetheless. F or I com e H aving grasped on to the hope T hat I w ill suffer no m ore than m y fate. C RE O N A nd w hat is this o f w hich you seem so frightened? G U A RD I w ant to tell you first about m yself: I neither did this thing nor knew w ho did it, A nd if I cam e to harm for it, that w ould not be just. 240 A N T IG O N E 9 CRE O N Y ou point your answ er w ell, A nd circle round the m atter. B ut you seem to have som e news to tell m e. G U A RD The terrors of it m ake m e hesitate. CRE O N W ill you speak, have done, and be gone! G U A RD I w ill tell you then. Just now , the corpse — Som eone got away w ith throw ing earth on it, H aving strew n the skin w ith dry dust, A nd perform ed the needful rights ow ed to the dead. 250 C RE O N W hat say you? W hat m an w ould dare perform this? G U A RD I know not: for there w as neither stroke of hoe, N or heaping up of earth by spade, A nd the ground w as hard and dry, unbroken, N or furrow ed by the w heels of any carriage, B ut the w orker left no trace, w hoever he w as. A nd w hen the first w atchm an of the daw n Show ed us the trouble, w e m arvelled, all of us. T he corpse had no entom bing m ound, but lay C overed from 260 sight by a fine dust, A s though the one w ho got away had m eant T he bare prevention of a sacrilege. T here w as no sign that beast or dog had com e, O r tom the corpse w ith teeth. A nd then . T here w as com m otion as w e railed at one another. G uard accusing guard w ith evil w ords, U ntil at last w e w ould have com e to blow s, N or w as any present to prevent it. 270 For each one seem ed to be the culprit T o the rest, though no one clearly w as, A nd all claim ed total ignorance. W e w ere ready to take red-hot iron in our hands, T o craw l through fire, and sw ear great oaths, T hat by the G ods, w e did not do this thing IO T H R E E T H E BA N PLA Y S 268-299 N or plan it. A t last, W hen there w as now here left to search, Som eone spoke, w ho caused us all to bow our heads For fear, dow n tow ard the ground. H is advice none could contest, nor im agine 28: H ow to prosper if w e follow ed it. H e said the story o f it m ust be told to you, T hat nothing o f the deed should be concealed. A nd that plan w on the day, and I by lot W as dam ned enough to w in this happy chore. U nw illingly I com e here, and certainly U nw anted; for no one likes the m essenger O f evil new s. C H O RU S Sovereign, m y thoughts have asked m e, If this deed m ight not have been the w ork of G ods? 29c C RE O N Stop, before your talk entirely fills m e up w ith rage, A nd lest I find you foolish, elder though you are. U nbearable suggestion, that things divine lave taken thought for this cadaver! >0 T hey honour him w ith burial as a hero, w ho cam e to bum the lofty-colum ned tem ples A nd the shrines, and the very land — W ho scattered law s like chafi! O r do you see the G ods rew arding evil m en? Im possible. N o, but som e certain m en 3 ex Since first I issued this decree, have borne it W hile in secret, m urm uring against m e; T ossing their heads against m y yoke, nor justly B ending dow n their necks in m eet subm ission to m e. B y such m en w ere these guards — I know it w ell — Induced to do all this, for w ages. F or nothing takes such root in m en as w icked, silver coin, T hat brings w hole cities dow n, A nd drives m en from their hom es; this it is, T h at trains and w arps the organ o f invention T w isting sound m en ’ s hearts A nd setting them to sham eful practice. 3H( 3 0 0 -3 2 4 A N TIG O N E II M oney taught hum anity to stop at nothing, A nd m aster every gross im piety. T he hired m en w ho did this thing In tim e shall pay their debt to justice. A nd, as ever Z eus retains m y reverence, K now this w ell, w hich to you I sw ear: If you fail to find and set before m ine eyes T he very m an that m ade this burial, 320 D eath alone shall not suffice for you U ntil you hang alive, and m ake D isclosure of this insolence So that — since you know w hence profit com es, Y ou m ay keep on grasping for it, having learned N ot to love prosperity from every source. Ill-gotten, sham eful riches ruin m ore m en, Y ou w ill realise, than they save. G U A RD W ill you grant m e speech, or shall I turn and go? C RE O N D on ’ t you understand how painfully you ’ ve spoken now ? 330 G U A RD D oes it sting you in the ears, or in the soul? C RE O N W hy do you reckon w here m y trouble stings m e? G UA RD T he culprit has upset your soul; but I, O nly your ears. C RE O N O h, you w ere clearly bom to drivel. G U A RD A t least I never did this deed. C RE O N Y ou did it, and you threw aw ay your soul F or silver. G UA RD O h, m onstrous — that a m an should have suspicions, If he suspect but falsely! C RE O N M ake epigram s o f your opinion now . 340 12 T H R E E T H EB A N PL A Y S 325-361 X B ut if you cannot m ake the culprits m anifest, It w ill com e hom e to you, that guilty w ages M ake m en w retched. G U A RD M ay he duly be discovered ’ W hether or not T he m an is apprehend ed, luck w ill decide it; B ut you w ill not see m e com ing here again. E ven now , saved beyond m y hope and expectation, I ow e the G ods m uch gratitude. [E xeu n t C reon a n d G uard Second C horal O d e C H O RU S M arvels are m any, and none m ore m arvellous than hum anity, T hat on the Southw est w inter w ind C rosses the grey sea, R inged by depths o f the engulfing w aves: A nd E arth, the oldest o f the G ods, Inexhaustible and deathless, hum anity w ears aw ay, W ith year after year the going up and dow n O f ploughs, behind the turning oflspring of the horse. T he blithe race o f the birds, m ankind ensnares; A nd captive leads the tribes o f w ild beasts, A nd living natures o f the deep m arine W ithin his w oven nets, 360 ingenious m an: T he m ountain-roving anim al, T hat dw ells abroad the open land, H e overcom es w ith cleverness; T he long-m aned horse he tam es L aying the yoke around his neck, A nd the tireless m ountain bull. H e has taught him self speech, A nd thought, sw ift as the w ind; T he casts o f m ind that govern tow ns; T aught him self to shun the frosty air, A nd dark-shadow ed arrow s o f the rain. M an finds a w ay, everyw here; N ever at a loss, in all that is to be: 370 A N T IG O N E 361-391 13 O nly from death can he devise no escape, T hough his inventions cure U nfathom able plagues. M an possesses arts Subde beyond all hope o f reckoning. N ow to the evil, and now to the great, he slow ly m oves: 380 H onouring the law s o f earth A nd sw earing by the G ods to cleave to justice, H e exalts his city; B ut w ithout a city is the w icked m an, B ecause he dares all. N ever m ay such a person share m y hearth, N or m atch his thoughts w ith m ine, W ho does such things. XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA E n ter A n t i g o n e , led by the g u a r d I half suppose this a holy sign — I know it — I canno t deny 390 T his is the child, A ntigone! O w retched one, A nd child o f a w retched father, O edipus, W hat is it? Surely you have not been arrested, Faithless to the royal law s, T aken in recklessness? gua r d T his is she, w ho did the w ork. W e caught her A s she w as burying him . B ut w here is C reon? E n ter c r e o n C H O RU S H e com es at our need, returning from the palace. C RE O N W hat is it? W hat stroke o f fortune w arrants m y return? G U A RD M y lord, there is nothing m ortal m an should sw ear T o be im possible: for hindsight M akes our expectations false! I could have sw orn that I w ould not com e back F or a long tim e, lashed by the storm y threats you m ade; 400 14 T H R E E T H E BA N PLA Y S 392-42.1 B ut w ith a joy beyond m y hopes, surpassing any other pleasure In its greatness, I have returned — In spite o f oaths that I w ould com e no m ore — L eading this girl, w ho w as arrested at devotions T ending the burial. A nd not by lot 4H D id this befall m e! It is m y ow n good luck, 5: A nd nothing else, this thing. A nd now m y lord, T his is she, just as you dem anded; T ake her for questioning and cross-exam ination: B ut I am honest, free and acquitted of these evils. CREON H ow and w here did you arrest this girl you lead? G U A RD She w as burying the m an herself — Y ou know it all. CREO N Y ou understand, and rightly m ean the things you say? G U A RD I saw this w om an burying the body you forbade. 42C H aven ’ t I spoken plainly, and clear? C RE O N A nd w hen she w as taken, how did you see her In the action XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCB o f it? G UA RD It happened thus: returning to our post, A ccording w ith your dread injunctions W e sw ept off all the dust that hid the corpse, A nd slick w ith dam p the body lay w ell naked; T hen sat w e dow n upon the highest hill, S heltered from the w ind, lest the escaping reek S hould reach us, and m an m oved m an T o w akeful vigilance, w ith harsh reproof If any w earied o f his labour. A long tim e passed, A nd in the m iddle o f the upper air, T he bright disk o f the sun stood burning, W hen suddenly a w hirlw ind took a plum e o f dust F rom off the ground, and stained the sky, Filling all the plain, tearing from the trees their leaves, 430 4 2 1 -4 4 7 A N T IG O N E A nd sw elling out great reaches of the w ind. W e shut our eyes, and bore The scourges of the holy storm . A t great length, w hen it ceased at last, This child w as spotted, and w e heard her K eening w ith a sharp, em bittered cry A s of som e bird, that sees the nest-bed Em pty of its young, and is bereaved. Even so she cried out w hen she saw The corpse w as bare of dust, and m oaned In lam entation, calling evil curses, in her prayer, U pon the m en w ho had perform ed that deed. A nd w ith her hands she took up straight T he thirsty dust, and raising high A ham m ered jug of bronze, poured out U pon the corpse a threefold com et of libations. A nd seeing her, w e started in pursuit; B ut w hen w e quickly closed w ith her, She w as not terrified. W e dem anded O f her past and present deeds, but she Sought no protection in denials. A nd for m e This w as both sw eet and grievous: For it w as sw eet to have escaped from evils, A nd grievous to lead a dear one into them . 6 B ut all such things m ean less to m e Than does m y ow n salvation. 15 44° 45° 460 C RE O N Y ou, then: you w ho hang your head dow n T o the ground, speak! O r do you deny T hat you have done these things? A N T IG O N E I affirm that I did, and I do not deny it. [to the G uard, then to A ntigone] B etake yourself w herever you w ish, free From this heavy load of guilt. cr eon [Exit XWVUTS G uard B ut you, Tell m e briefly and w ith no addition: D id you know the edict that forbade this? 470 16wvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONML T H R E E T H E B A N PLA Y S 448-473 A N T IG O N E I knew . H ow could I not? It w as a public edict. C RE O N A nd yet you dared to overstep the law ? A N T IG O N E Y es, for the proclaim er of that law w as not Zeus, N or w as it Justice, w ho dw ells together W ith the G ods below : such are They w ho have Prescribed the law s for hum an beings. A s for the law s that you announced, I did not think them so strong 8♦ A s to be able to prevail against unw ritten A nd unfaltering com m ands of the D ivine, Since you are m ortal. For not just now , N or only yesterday, but always and forever D o these live, and no one know s the daw n From w hence they cam e. I w ould not think O f bearing the displeasure of the G ods, to pay The dear requital of T heir law s, for fear O f any m an ’s design. T hat I shall one day die, XWVUTSRQPON I w ell knew . A nd w hy ever not? 4SX T hat w ould be so, even w ithout your proclam ations. A nd if I should die before m y tim e, I call that a fine prize. For w hoever fives A s I do, am ong so m any evils, how w ould he not H old it a prize to die? A nd thus for m e It is no grievous thing, to take this m easure O f m y destiny. B ut if a m an died W ho w as bom from out m y m other ’s w om b, A nd I left him unburied, I w ould grieve for that. This grieves m e not. B ut if I seem to you Soc T o happen upon foolish deeds, perhaps I ow e the foolish verdict to a foolish judge. C H O RU S T he child show s herself as fierce as w as her father, A nd she know s not how to yield before m isfortunes. C RE O N B ut understand this w ell: that hard and stubborn spirits 474-508 A N T IG O N E 17 O ften fall; and the m ost solid iron, tem pered in the fire, Y ou shall see shivered into fragm ents and destroyed: I also know , the little bridle brings the angry horse to heel: A nd no m an thinks great thoughts w ho is his neighbour ’ s XWVUTSR slave.7 [to the C horus] She knew then how to m ock established law s, 510 O verstepping them w ith hubris; w hen she had done so, H er second hubris w as to sm ile at the first, E xulting in transgression. N ow if this achievem ent H e U npunished on her, I am no m an; rather, call her m an then. E ven if she is m y sister ’ s child — even if she w ere M ore near to m e by blood than every w orshipper of Z eus B efore the altars of our hom e - she shall not avoid T he bitterest o f her portion. A nd I denounce her sister F or collaboration in this burial. S um m on her as w ell - Just now , inside, I saw her raving and beside herself: F or oft they stand accused of treason, even w hen the crim e R em ains undone, w hose hearts contrive their m alefactions In the dark, [turns to A n tig o n e] B ut this, too, I detest: a captured crim inal W ho seeks to glory in her evils. A N T IG O N E A nd having captured m e, w hat m ore do you require T han m y death? C RE O N N othing. W hen I have that, I shall have all. A N T IG O N E T hen w hy do you delay? O f all your w ords T here is none that I find pleasing, nor shall be ever; W hile to you, m y thoughts are just as hatefill. A nd yet, how could I w in a greater fam e T han to lay m ine ow n dear brother in the grave? [indicating th e C /ioras] A ll these w ould adm it m y action pleased them , If their m ouths w ere not sealed shut w ith fear. B ut the sovereign pow er, blessed in so m uch else, C an say and do as it sees fit. C RE O N O f all these C adm ean people, only you see it so. 530 18 T H R E E T H E B A N PL A Y S 509-525 A N T IG O N E T hey see; but you have stopped their m ouths. C RE O N A nd are you not asham ed, to reason it so differently? 540 A N T IG O N E N o: for to be pious tow ard those w ho once shared M y m other ’ s w om b, is nothing sham eful. C RE O N D id not such a brother perish on the other side? A N T IG O N E B lood siblings, from one w om b, by the sam e father. C RE O N H ow then can you give honours w hich that brother W ould call sacrilege? A N T IG O N E T hat brother is a corpse; he w ill not w itness it. CRE O N B ut he w ill, if you honour him as equal w ith the crim inal. A N T IG O N E It w as not a slave, but a brother w ho died. C RE O N T hat brother ravaged this land, w hile the other died 550 D efending it. A N T IG O N E A nd yet the D eath-G od yearns for w hat is due H im . C RE O N B ut the good and useful m an ought not to be m ade equal T o the w icked. A N T IG O N E W ho know s, but that those below m ay find it law ful? C RE O N A n enem y is never beloved, n o t even in death. A N T IG O N E I w as bom to share m y brothers ’ love, not their hatred. C RE O N Y ou are going dow n now ; if you m ust love, L ove the dead. B ut no w om an shall rule m e, W hile I live. 560 5 26 -5 48 A N T IG O N E XWVUTS 19 E n ter i s m e n e C H O RU S L ook: Ism ene by the doorw ay w eeps A sister ’ s tears, and on her brow T he blushing clouds and scratches red R un dow n and w et her lovely face, D isfigured w ith her sham e. CRE O N A nd you, w ho lurk w ithin m y hom e A nd like som e venom ou s serpent, undetected D rink aw ay the vigour of m y blood: T w o ruinous w om en, fom enting their rebellion A t m y throne; 570 C om e, tell m e — do you also say you had a share In this burial, or do you sw ear that you know nothing? ISM E N E I have done the w ork, if only she agrees w ith m e, A nd then w ill I share the punishm ent, and bear it. A N T IG O N E B ut Justice w ill not allow you that, Since you w ere unw illing then, and I w ill not share. ISM E N E B ut am ong your bleak m isfortunes I am not asham ed T o m ake m yself your fellow in suffering. A N T IG O N E H ades and the dead below share know ledge O f the deed; but I do not love m y loving sister F or her w ords. ISM E N E O sister, do not dishonour m e; do not prevent M y dying w ith you and m y honouring our dead. A N T IG O N E D o not die w ith m e, nor touch those deeds W hich you did not perform . M y death is enough. ISM E N E A nd w hat life could be dear to m e, W hen you have left m e here? 580 20 TH R EE TH EB A N PLA Y S 5 4 9 -0 : A N T IG O N E A sk C reon. Y ou are his concern. ISMENE W hy do you torm ent m e, w hen it canno t help you? A N T IG O N E If I m ock at you, I suffer as I do it. 5 ISM EN E A nd yet, how m ight I help you, even now ? A N T IG O N E Save yourself: I w ill not hinder your escape. ISM E N E O m y w retched one, shall I be utterly left out o f your fate? A N TIG O N E Y ou chose to live; I chose to die. ISM EN E B ut not w ithout m y argum ents, m y w ords — 8 A NT IG ON E Y ou seem ed to think nobly to those on one side; I to those on the other. SM EN E A nd yet our guilt is equal. A N T IG O N E T ake heart: you are alive, but I died long ago T hat I m ight serve the dead. 6o C RE O N O f these tw o children I declare T hat this one has been foolish for a m om ent; A nd that one, since the m om ent she w as bom . ISM E N E N o t so, m y king. T he m ind that nature grow s in us D oes not rem ain through our m isfortunes: it leaves us. C RE O N It left yo u , at least, w hen you chose T o practise crim e w ith crim inals. ISM E N E A nd w hat life o f m ine could be w orth living A lone, w ithout her? C RE O N Speak o f ‘ h er ’ no m ore; she is already gone. 6 io A N T IG O N E 568-592 21 ISM EN E T hen you kill the bride of your ow n child? CREO N H e m ay plough som e other field. ISM E N E N ot according to w hat this girl A nd that m an have agreed upon . C RE O N I hate an evil w ife for m y son. A N T IG O N E D earest H aem on, how you are dishonoured B y your father! CRE O N Y ou pain m e, you and y o u r ‘ m arriage ’ . C H O RU S W ould you bereave your ow n son 1620 XWVUTSR O f his girl? CRE O N H ades w ill stop this m arriage for m e. CH O RU S It has been decreed, then. She is to die. c r eon [indicating A n tig o n e, a n d then both girls] D ecreed: for you and for m e. W aste no tim e, B ut bring her inside, m y servants. H enceforth T hese m ust be w om en, and no m ore live at liberty. F or even brave m en flee, w hen they behold . A lready the gates o f H ades closing on their Efe. [E xeu n t A n tig o n e a n d Ism ene T h ird C h o ra l O d e C H O RU S H appy are they w hose Eves have had no taste o f evil. B ut for those w hose house is shaken by the G od N o agony is m issing, but it creeps upon the fam ily entire, L ike 630 a w ave; as w hen the w ild storm w ind out o f T hrace C ourses through the darkness o f the sea, R oU ing from the deep black sand A nd beating w ith its gales T he face o f the opposing shore. 22 TH REE TH EBAN PLA Y S XWVUTSRQPON 593-634 O f the house of Labdacus I see the ancient sufferings Falling in upon the sorrow s of the dead; N o generation can redeem its progeny, B ut som e G od throw s all the fam ily dow n, A nd there is no escape. That light w hich lately spread U pon the last roots of the house of O edipus Is now cut off, in bloody dust of the infernal G ods, Through reckless speeches, and hearts deranged. O Zeus, w hat insolence of m en C ould ever circum scribe Thy pow er? Sleep, that overcom es all things, does not arrest Y ou, N or do the m onths divine, but through all seasons Y ou rem ain the ageless sovereign of O lym pus ’ Flashing brilliance. For the com ing days, A nd for ages hence, and all the past, Tris is the law : no vast enorm ity lan stalk into a m ortal ’s life w ithout disaster. 6 «1 rar-w andering H ope com es as a benefit to m any m en, B ut m any m en it cheats w ith vain desires: N or does such a one suspect w hat creeps upon him , U ntil in heat of flam e he bum s his foot. For there is w isdom in the fam ous saying: T o that m an w hose m ind the G ods lead into ruin, The evil com es to seem the good. T hough for the briefest m om ent he w orks on, w ithout disaster; 66 E nter h a e m o n B ut here is H aem on, Last bom of your children and their last survivor, D oes he not com e grieving for A ntigone, D esperate at the w icked loss of his young bride, T hat w as to be his w ife? CREO N W e shall soon know , m ore clear than prophecy could tell. M y child, have you com e here furious against your father, H aving heard m y final edict of her death, W ho w ould have been your bride? 67t 635-671 A N T IG O N E XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHG 23 HAEM ON Father, I am yours. Since you possess and tender to m e C ounsels good and needful, I w ill follow them . F or to m e, no m arriage is m ore w orth the w inning T han thy good guidance. C RE O N T his is the w ay, m y son, rightly to com pose your heart; T o stand behind your father ’ s counsels in all things. T his is w hat m en pray for, to have obed ient children G row ing in the house, w ho w ill w ard off the enem y A nd pay honour to the friend, just as the father does. B ut w hoever begets a useless child, 680 W hat do you say o f him , but that he m akes A bundant toil for him self, and laughter for his foes? D o not now , m y son, nor ever, for the sake of w om an A nd her pleasures, cast off reason; be aw are T hat the em brace grow s cold w herew ith an evil w ife Partakes o f bed and household. For w hat greater w ound C an ever com e about, than a dear one w ho is w icked? C ast her off w ith loathing, just as if she w ere Y our open enem y, and let the child find herself Som e husband in the underw orld. In sight of all the city, O ut o f all the rest I chose this girl alone in her rebellion; I T herefore I w ill not w rong the city and m ake m yself a liar: I w ill kill her. So let her call and call again to Z eus, W ho keeps the bonds of blood that kinsfolk share — Since if I tolerate disorder in m y relatives by birth, T hen I m ust let it thrive in all m en else. T he good m an is he w hose justice show s In the city as w ell as in his hom e. N ow a crim inal w ho oversteps the law , O r thinks to give com m ands to those w ho rule — Such a one can gain no praise from m e. B ut w hom ever the city appoints m ust be obeyed, In each detail, w hether just or utterly opposed to justice. A nd I take heart, that the m an w ho thus obeys W ould rule w ell, since he is w ell w illing to be ruled, A nd, stationed at his post, to hold the spear in hand , R em aining there, a right and proper soldier. 700 24 TH R EE TH EB A N PLA Y S 672-70. T here is no evil w orse than anarchy. T his it is, that causes states to perish, M akes houses desolate, D isperses spearm en, routing their alliance; B ut obedience to com m and Saves the bodies o f the fortunate m any. T herefore such rules m ust be defended A s are handed dow n, and they m ust not be W eaker than a w om an, ever. It w ould be better, if deposition com e, T hat m y usurper be a m an! L est som eone say T hat w om en are m y betters. CH O RU S It seem s to us you speak this speech w ith w isdom , 7 If our old age has left us fit to judge. HAEM ON Father, the G ods bring to bloom in hum an beings V far the greatest o f all possessions, nam ely M ind. annot find a fault in w hat you say; id I hope never to achieve that pow er — nd yet it m ay befall another m an to reason w ell. it is m y natural portion to be vigilant In your behalf, to note w hat people say O r do or how they place the blam e XWVUTSRQPONML o f things. F or fear o f thy dread aspect, com m on m en 7j K eep back w hatever speeches you w ould not enjoy; B ut it is m ine to hear such things, in darkness: H ow the city m ourns this very girl, lam enting her, O f all its w om en, as the one w ho least deserves to die So w retchedly for deeds so full o f noble fam e: F or she w ill not allow her brother, fallen in the w ar, T o be destroyed by dogs or birds that prey on carrion. Is n o t such a girl w orth honouring w ith gold? W ords like these are spreading through the quiet dark. T here can be no possession I w ould honour m ore T han your good w elfare, O m y father. F or w hat could be a greater honour to a son, S e e in g his father thrive in greatness, T han to contribute som ething to him o f his ow n? 74 I 705^731 A N T IG O N E 25 A t this m om ent, do not bear w ithin you O ne single thought alone, H olding your ow n speech to be true, and none beside. F or w hoever counts him self the only m an to reason, O r to speak, im agining that other m en do not have souls — Such people soon are opened, and their hollow ness exposed. 750 B ut even if a m an be w ise, it is no sham e For him to leam m uch m ore, and not be adam ant. See how those trees that yield before the w inter ’ s flood A re saved, e ’ en to the tw igs, W hile those that strain in opposition die, U prooted utterly. Just so the m ariner, W ho in his pow er w ill not yield the ropes at all, M ust sail the rem nant o f his voyage w ith the keel H igh in the air, the ship undone. B ut let your anger slacken, and give ground. 760 F or if despite m y youth I m ay show forth m y counsel, I believe it w ould be better far if m en w ere bom B y nature full o f perfect know ledge; B ut because that canno t be, A nd nature does not tend that w ay, It is noble to pay heed to those w ho reason w ell. C H O RU S M y lord, to leam from him is right and fitting, If he speaks according to the m om ent; A s it befits you [H XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDC ae/non] to leam from him [C reon]: F or both o f you have spoken w ell. C RE O N Indeed! F or all the fullness o f our age, A re w e to be instructed by a m an so young? HAEM ON T here is no injustice in this; if I am young, L ook to m y deeds and not to m y years. C RE O N A nd is this such a ‘ deed ’ o f yours, T o pay honour to defiant rebels? HAEMON I w ould not even ask that others honour evil people. 770 26 wvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPO TH REE TH EB A N PLA Y S 732-74 C RE O N B ut this girl, is she not infected w ith transgression? HAEMON T he w hole T heban people denies it. C RE O N A nd w ill the city tell m e how I am to govern? H A EM O N See, how you have spoken this: L ike a very young m an indeed. C RE O N N eed I rule this country to the satisfaction o f m yself, O r o f so m e other? HAEMON T here is no city of a single m an. CRE O N O f the m an in pow er: the city is C onsidered his, is it not? H A EM O N B y yourself, you m ight rule a vacant country very w ell. tEON T his m an, it appears, is the w om an ’ s ally. IAEMON If you are a w om an, yes: for in fact I am protecting you. CRE O N O w orthless w retch, to have at your father w ith epigram s! HAEM ON It is not right for m e to w atch w hile you do w rong. C RE O N A nd I do w rong, w hen I pay the pious hom age due m y pow er? HAEMON Y ou are n o t pious, tram pling the honou r o f the G ods. C RE O N O polluted character, that follow s after w om an. HAEMON Y ou w ill n o t find m e pursuing ugly deeds. C RE O N Y et all y o u r talk, at least, is on behalf o f her. 749-^767 A N T IG O N E 27 HAEM ON A nd o f you, and o f m e, and o f the G ods beneath. C RE O N N ever, w hile she yet lives, shall you m arry that girl. 800 HAEM ON T hen w hen she dies, som e m an w ill also put off life and die. CRE O N A re you so bold w ith open threats of opposition? HAEM ON W hy call that a threat, to speak against a hollow policy? C RE O N Y ou w ill lecture on that through your how ling, Since you yourself are em pty of intelligence. H A EM O N If you w ere not m y father, I should tell you T hat you do not reason w ell. C RE O N Y ou are a w om an ’ s slave; do not prattle F or m y favour. HAEMON Y ou prefer to speak, being the speaking m an, B ut not to listen? C RE O N Is that true? B ut understand this w ell, W hich by O lym pus I sw ear: H aving berated m e w ith insult, Y ou w ill not rejoice. A ttendants, L ead in that thing o f hatred, that at once A nd in the eyes and presence o f her groom She m ay die. h a emo n N o t beside m e shall she be killed: do not im agine it; N o r looking w ith your eyes shall you behold m y face again; G o on then, rage am ong your intim ates, 820 A gainst those w illing to endure you. [E xit H XWVUTSR a em o n CHORUS M y lord, the m an has left, quickly and in anger; F or at his age, the w ounded spirit suffers heavy pains. 28 T H RE E T H E B A N PLA Y S 768-79= C RE O N I shall do it: let his feeling run beyond the bounds O f hum an nature, he w ill never save this pair o f girls F rom their allotted doom . CHORUS T hen you intend to kill them both? C RE O N N o, not that girl w ho has touched nothing; F or you speak w isely. C H O RU S A nd by m eans o f w hat affliction w ould you kill her? S C RE O N T here is a trail, desolate o f m ortal footsteps, L eading to a sepulchre o f stone; W ithin it, I shall hide the girl alive W ith just so m uch to eat as holiness requires, So the w hole city shall escape pollution. 9 A nd there perhaps she w ill pray to H ades — "he only G od this girl respects — ad H e m ay grant that she not die; r else she m ay discover w hat prodigious, w asted toil s her devotion to the dead below . 8 X F ourth C h o ral O d e C H O RU S O L ove, T hou art unconquered in the batde; L ove, w ho dive upon our fortunes; W ho, from the soft cheeks o f a young girl, K eep ’ st T hy w atch upon the night, A nd w end Y our w ays over the sea, A nd through the savage places: N one o f the im m ortals can escape Y ou, N o r any hum an creature o f a day, 10 B ut w hom Y ou claim , is m ad. 11 Y ou drag the hearts o f just m en O ff their course into disgrace; T hen they are ju st no m ore: A nd Y ou have stirred this feud 8< a 794-83 3 A N TIG O N E 29 A m ong m en w hose shared blood m akes them kin. B ut D esire, m anifest in the eyes of this betrothed bride, Prevails over the m ighty law s, and sits beside them , strong. ! F or the G oddess A phrodite-vaunts in trium ph w here there is no battle. W atching all this I find m yself A lready sw erving from the sam e decree; 12 I lack the strength to check this stream of tears, W hen I behold A ntigone approach 860 T hat nuptial bed w here all are laid to rest. XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFED E n ter A n t i g o n e A N T IG O N E See m e, citizens o f our fatherland, T ravelling m y final road, A nd gazing for the last tim e on the sunlight I w ill never see again: B ut H ades, w ho brings all dow n to sleep L eads m e alive onto the banks of A cheron; W ho have no share in the bridal hym n, A nd none has sung to m e m y w edding song, ; /v B ut I shall w ed the river of despair. CH O RU S A nd yet, as you go dow n am ong the hidden dead, Y ou do have fam e, and praise: yours are not T he w ithering assaults o f som e disease N o r grim retaliation o f the sw ord, B ut you alone am ong hum anity Shall go alive and w illing into H ades. A N T IG O N E B ut I have heard o f a foreign queen, 13 A Phrygian, T antalus ’ daughter, w ho died in utter m isery C linging like ivy to the heights o f the m ountain Sipylus, O vercom e, and slow ly turned to stone. T hey say the snow storm s w ear aw ay at her; W ith nothing spared by the stream ing ice She w aters w ith abundant tears T he m ountain ’ s w retched brow . T he fate that lays m e dow n is m ost like hers. 880 3° T H RE E T H EB A N PLA Y S 834-87; CHORUS B ut she w as a G oddess, bom from G ods 14 W hile w e are m ortals, bom to perish. A nd yet, how great a thing it is, after your death T o have it said of you, that like a G od Y ou bore the godlike hardship of your lot B oth as you lived and in your dying. A N T IG O N E O h, I am laughed at! W hy, by the G ods of our lathers, W ill you not w ait until I go, but abuse m e to m y lace? O , city! O w ealthy citizens! O springs of D irce R iver A nd groves of Thebes, city of radiant chariots! Y ou at least I claim as fellow w itnesses — B y w hat law s I journey to the prison of m y sepulchre, H ow I go to m y unprecedented burial 'Jnlam ented by m y friends! O h, m e! lom eless, m iserable w retch! leither w ith the living nor the dead do I belong; . am not dead and I no longer live. s -H O R U S Striding out tow ard the lim it of audacity Y ou fell against the pedim ent ofjustice. O h, child! A heavy tall! A nd this struggle Is the debt your lather left you. A N T IG O N E Y ou have touched on the m ost bitter of m y cares — The thrice-repeated heartache of m y lather's fate, A nd all our w retched destiny — the great Labdacidae! 15 O h, disasters of the m other ’ s bed: H er coupling w ith her son m y lather Joined him to her, and her fate w as ruin. From such persons I w as bom to bear m y m ind in grief T ow ard w hom I go, unm arried and accursed, T o dw ell w ith them . O m y poor brother, A chieving your ow n m arriage, Y ou died and you destroyed m e W ho survived you. 9: CH O RU S Pious action does approach true piety; 16 93 873-903 A NTIGO NE 31 B ut pow er and the m an w ho w ields it C annot let transgression last in any form : A nd your ow n nature, That insists upon its ow n decisions, C ost you life. A N T IG O N E U nlam ented, friendless and unm arried, In m ental agony I lead m yself along This road w hereof the ending is prepared. H enceforth in m y m isery I lack the right T o see the eye of heaven ’ s sacred torch: A nd am ong m y people, no one groans in m ourning For this fate of m ine that m akes no tears. CREON [to XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA the C/iom s] D on ’ t you understand that if those songs A nd lam entations before death w ere any use, N o one w ould have done w ith them ? Lead her, quickly! Enclose her W ithin the vaulted tom b, as I instructed you: Send her inside alone and desolate, W hether she desires to die. O r live entom bed beneath that roof. For w e are pious as regards this girl: She w ill be denied upw ard escape.17 93° 94° A N T IG O N E O grave! O bridal-song! O hom e dug deep below , T hat w ill be vigilant forever! I do convey m yself tow ard m ine ow n, M ost of w hom Persephone has greeted A t the gates of death: and I go dow n, T he last and the m ost crim inal by far, B efore m y span of life is run. A nd yet I raise in m e the m ighty hope as I go on, T hat I m ay com e into the presence of m y father A nd be dear to him ; dear to you, m y m other, A nd dear to you, m y brother. W hen you died 18 I w ashed you w ith these hands; arranged your lim bs A nd poured libations on the grave. A nd now , Polyneices, this is m y rew ard 95° 32 T H RE E T H E B A N PLA Y S XWVUTSRQPON 903-931 F or laying out your body. A nd yet, In the judgm ent of the w ise, I have w ell honoured you. Indeed, If I w ere a m other of children, O r if I had a husband w ho had died and lay decaying, I never w ould have undertaken this ordeal A gainst the pow er o f the citizens. W hat is the standard I obey, in speaking thus? If a husban d o f m ine died, there m ight com e another; A nd children from a further m an, If I w ere bereaved again: B ut from m y m other and m y father T hat in H ades lie concealed, N o brother, ever, can be bom . 97 B y such a law as this, dear visage o f m y sibling, ’ have honoured you forem ost, though by m y deeds seem to C reon to have broken law , nd taken on and dared things terrible. A nd now , arresting w ith his hands H e leads m e thus, unw edded, w ith no song O f bridal celebration, nor a share o f m arried life A nd no part in the getting o f a child, B ut thus bereft o f all m y dear ones I go alive and dam ned into the hole O f dead hum anity. H ow could I evade T he justice o f the G ods? W hat need I still look to T hem , W hose lot is m isery? T o w hat ally can I cry? W hen I have gained im piety ’ s disgrace, F or all m y piety! A nd if in the G ods ’ sight this is fair T hen I shall understand m y fault w hen I have suffered for it. B ut if these m en are in the w rong, M ay they suffer no m ore evil T han the injustice they do m e. C H O RU S T hese sam e storm w inds o f the soul Still hold this w om an. C RE O N T he slow est o f these m en that lead her 990 L 932-965 ANTIGONE 33 W ill have tears to w eep for it! A N TIG O N E O , that w ord arrives the nearest Tow ard m y death. C RE O N I give you no encouragem ent to hope T hat this w ill fail of its fulfilm ent. A N T IG O N E O Father C ity of the Theban land. A nd our ancestral G ods, 1000 N o m ore am I w aiting to be led aw ay. [To the C horus] B ehold, you that are the Lords of Thebes, T he last rem aining royal daughter of the kingly line: H ow I suffer at the hands of m en like these, A pious w om an, keeping holiness. [Exit A XWVUTSRQPONMLKJI ntigone F ifth C horal O de 19 CH O RU S Even the form and figure of D anae Suffered, to exchange the light of heaven For the darkness of the brass-bound prison yard, H idden and restrained w ithin the tom b-like inner cham ber. She too — O dear child — w as of exalted birth, A nd she becam e the keeper of the seed of Zeus, T hat stream ed w ith gold. T he pow er of Fate is terrible, W hatever fate it is; and neither w ealth nor w ar, N or fire, nor dark ships crying out at sea, escape it. A nd D ryas ’ child, the Edonians ’ sharp-tem pered king,- 0 For his hateful rages w as interned by D ionysus In a prisonhouse of stone. A nd there T he aw eful bloom of his insanity w as w ithered. 21 W hen that m an cam e against the G od w ith m ockery A nd insolence, he cam e to know his m adness. For he stopped the B acchic w om en, w ho cry ‘ euoi! ’ A nd sw ing fire in their divine possession, 22 A nd he angered the flute-adoring M uses. 1010 1020 34 T H R E E T H E B A N PLA Y S 966-995 N ear to the w aters o f the K yeneai, T he w aters o f that double sea, Lies the headland o f the B osporos, A nd Salm ydessus, the T hracian city 23 W here the W ar-G od, w ho fives nearby, B eheld the cursed, blinding w ound o f Phineus ’ tw o sons, Inflicted by his savage w ife, 24 II W hich left the circles o f their eyes B ereaved of sight, and yearning for revenge, H aving been stricken by her bloody hands A nd the point o f her w eaving-needle. A nd they languished idle there, W eeping in their useless state, j*om from a m other m ost unhap pily m arried. | it she w as o f an ancient lineage, id derived from E rechtheus; 1 distant caves, am ong the storm -w inds IC O f her father, 25 this daughter o f B oreas W as raised, sw ift as horses on the steep, T he child o f the G od. B ut the Fates, T hat last long, held even her, O C hild. E n ter t e i r e s i a s , led by a boy TEIRESIAS L ords o f T hebes, w e have arrived by one shared road, B oth o f us sighted because one can see: F or that is the w ay o f w alking that rem ains unto the blind. CREON W hat is it, O aged T eiresias, now ? 26 TEIRESIAS I w ill teach. A nd you, obey the prophet. C RE O N In the past I have not strayed from your advice. lO j: TEIRESIAS T hen guide aright the ship o XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIH f state. C RE O N I am by experience equipped T o bear sure w itness to the benefits thereof. 996 — 1026 A N TIG O N E 35 TEIR ESIA S Take thought: you w alk once m ore U pon the razor ’s edge of Fortune. CRE O N W hat is it? H ow I shudder at your m outh! TEIR ESIA S Y ou shall know , w hen of m y art you hear the signs. For entering m y ancient seat of augury, A gathering place of all the birds, I heard a loud, strange birdsong shrieking In a horrible frenzy, uttering gibberish. A nd then I knew , that w ith their talons T hey tore at one another in the throes of m urder. For the beating rush of w ings m eant m ore than nothing. Full of fear I quickly set about the burning of an offering U pon a frilly kindled altar. B ut from the sacrifice H ephaestus 27 did not glow . Instead, upon the em bers Fluid drizzled, and it sm oked and sputtered upw ard, A nd bile w as burst out high into the air, A nd the dripping thighbones w ere laid bare O f all the layered fat that had enclosed them . I learned it from this boy, that this w as how M y divination from the rites had com e to nothing. For he guides m e, as I guide others. A nd the city is afflicted thus B ecause of your decisions. A ll the altars, G reat and sm all, the N orth W ind has defiled W ith birds and dogs com e from the corpse O f O edipus ’ m iserable, fallen son. Therefore the G ods accept no m ore O ur sacrificial prayers, nor flam es From thighbones w rapped in fat; N or does any bird cry out in signs discernible, N ow they have fed upon a m an ’ s rich blood. So think on these things, child. For every hum an being does m ake deep m istakes: B ut w hen a m an has m issed his m ark, H e is not yet unm anned, nor yet undone T hough fallen into hardships, 1060 1070 1080 T H RE E T H E BA N PLA Y S 36wvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJ 1027-1050 W ho heals him self, and is not idle. Y es, S tubbornness is righdy called stupidity. G ive over to the dead m an’s claim , A nd do not stab one w ho has perished. W hat strength is this, to kill a corpse again? I speak soundly to you, in benevolence: A nd it is sw eetest to pay heed T o som eone speaking w ell, If he should speak to your advantage. C RE O N A ged sir, you fire it all at th XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGF is m an, [indicating h im self] 28 A s archers do, w ho shoot into their target; 11 N or am I unm olested by your w izardry; for years B y m en o f th a t kind, 29 I have been bought and sold Like cargo rendered to the buyer ’ s ship. lake a profit if you like; rade in electrum from Sardis Jr the gold o f India. B ut do not hide him in the grave: N ot even if the eagles o f Z eus, W ishing for a m eal, and seizing on him Should carry him to Z eus ’ throne — III N ot even then w ould I, in fear O f this pollution, let that m an B e buried! F or I w ell know T hat no m an can defile the gods. B ut the very clever m ortals fall, O ld M an T eiresias, their falls m ost sham eful W hen they speak ugly w ords in lovely guise F or profit ’ s sake. T E IR E SIA S P h en . 30 D oes any hum an being know — D oes any say — C RE O N W hat? W hat epigram is this? T E IR E SIA S T hat o f all possessions, prudence Is by far the strongest? EI3 1051 — 1069 A N T IG O N E 37 CRE O N B y just so m uch, I think, the failure to be w ise Is full of pain. TEIRESIA S Y ou brought about this plague U pon our altars. CRE O N I have no w ish to trade reproaches w ith a w izard. T E IRE SIAS A nd yet you do so, claim ing that m y prophecies are lies. C RE O N Y es, for all the race of prophets is in love w ith silver. 1130 T E IR ESIA S A nd the tribe o f kings adores ill-gotten gains. CRE O N D o you realise, as you utter your rem arks, T hat w hat you say refers to one w ho rules? T E IR E SIA S I do I F or through m e you have becom e T his city ’ s saviour. C RE O N Y ou are a clever prophet, but you love injustice. T E IR E SIA S Y ou provoke m e to declare those secrets T hat w ere better hidden m otionless w ithin m y heart. CRE O N M ove them . B ut speak only if there is no benefit at issue. 31 T E IR E SIA S O h, as things stand, I think I shall describe your fortune that w ay. C RE O N R est assured, you cannot speculate upon m y m ind and policy. T E IR E SIA S B ut understand this w ell: not m any still rem ain to you, T he racing courses o f the sun you shall endu re B efore a m an w ho com es from your ow n flesh Shall have exchanged his corpse in due requital F or those lifeless bodies — 32 Since you have ruthlessly throw n dow n a living soul, 1140 38 T H RE E T H EB A N PLA Y S 1070-109:X C om pelling her to dw ell w ithin the grave, A nd kept a dead m an from his burial rites, U nhallow ed, w ith no offering to grace his tom b Though he belongs to the D ivinities below . Y ou have no claim in such affairs, nor do the G ods above T o w hom you offer violent offence. Because of these dead, the Furies w ait for you — The punishing destroyers in the D eath-G od ’ s service — A nd they w ill take you, these sam e m onstrous powers. C onsider w hether bribery has m ade m e say these things; For before long, the screams of m en and w om en in your hom e Shall be m anifest. A nd all the hostile cities are enraged, W hose soldiers ’ scattered lim bs are hallowed 33 By the beasts and dogs, or by som e plunging bird Carrying polluted flesh into the cities W here those soldiers had their hearth fires. V ith such a sort of arrow s — true and heart-rending — have shot you through the m ind — for you grieve! — 'hose bum and stinging you shall not outstrip. to his boy] C hild, lead us hom e again, That he m ay hurl his rage at younger m en A nd learn to keep his tongue m ore quiet, A nd to bear a better m ind w ithin his breast Than he can carry now . [E xit Teiresias, led by his boy] C H O RU S M y Lord, the m an left: uttering dread prophecies; A nd I w arrant you, in all the tim e since m y dark hair grew w hite I never yet heard this m an speak a false w ord in the city. C RE O N I have m arked that w ell, A nd it chum s m y heart w ith w orry. For it is terrible to yield, B ut terrible to take the other side, Resist, and blast a curse onto m y head. CH O RU S O M enoeceus ’ son, you m ust take thoughtfill care! IO 9 9 -II2 5 A N T IG O N E 39 CRE O N B ut w hat m ust I do? Tell m e, I shall obey! C H O RU S G o, and bring the girl up from that deep and hateful prison, A nd perform a burial for him that lies exposed. CRE O N These are your w ishes? Seem s it right that I should yield? CHORUS W ith all haste, m y Lord! For the G ods ’ sw ift punishm ents C ut off the w icked-hearted. CRE O N O m e! In tribulation then, I give over m y resolve, that I held dear; For ruin is not rooted in N ecessity. C H O RU S G o and do this now , and turn to nothing else! 1190 C RE O N W ith all the speed I have, I go! A ttendants one and all, Take up w ork tools in your hands [pointing] A nd bring them to that place in view ; For m y part, since m y policy has turned thus, H aving bound her, I m yself shall liberate her. For I fear and do believe it: best Is to preserve the ancient precepts of the G ods, T hroughout life, till the end. [Exit XWVUTSR C reon Sixth C hora!: D ance Song 3 * C H O RU S O T hou of m any nam es, G lory of the bride that C adm us ’ daughter w as, T hou child of 1200 deep-thundering Zeus, T hou protector of the far-fam ed Italy; D eoils art T hou in the Eleusinian Plain, R inged by m ountains and w elcom ing all; A s B acchus you dw ell in Thebes, M other-city of the B acchae, B eside the w ood w here flow s the river Ism enus, U pon the field w here dragon spores once lay. 40 T H RE E T H E B A N PLA Y S 1 1 2 6 -1 1 6;. H ow oft the blaze of sm oking torches H ath caught sight of Thee, A bove the tw o peaks, W here the C orycian nym phs run, Bacchanalian, H ard by that Castahan stream . From the slopes of the N yssian hills, A dorned in ivy, 35 green and golden, A nd the shores and headlands, thick w ith grapes, A re Y ou sum m oned; T hou overseest thy revels in the Theban streets, W hile they cry XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCB ‘ euoiT 36 w ith im m ortal w ords. Y ou honour Thebes above all other cities, As thy m other does, w ho knew the thunderbolt. A nd now again, as the entire tow n s held fast by a violent disease, □ m e! over the hillsides of Parnassus n thy purifying feet cross the rushing strait! Y ou lead the fire-breathing stars in dance A nd w atch over their w ild songs at night; C hild of Zeus ’ fathering. Lord, A ppear together w ith Y our nym phs divine T hat each night rave and dance Y our chorus, O lacchus, dispenser of fortunes. 15 E nter p a g e pa g e C adm us ’ neighbours, dw ellers w ithin the w alls T hat A m phion his son erected, N o form of hum an life w ould I disdain or praise A s fixed and enduring: For chance sets right, and chance casts dow n, B oth thriving m en and w retched ones, forever. T o m ortals there is no prophet can divine T he m easure of these fortunes. For C reon w as full praisew orthy, to m y m ind, Saving this C adm ean ground from enem ies, A nd taking up the helm of sovereign pow er absolute, 12 1164 -1183 A N T IG O N E 41 H e steered it straight; A nd he throve in the begetting O f his w ell-bom children. A nd now he loses everything. For w hen m en m ake forfeit of their pleasures, O h, in such a m an I find no life, but an ensouled corpse. If you w ould, grow w ealthy in your hom e; P ut on the tyrant in your living: 1250 B ut if you lose the gladness of it, I w ould not hold the rest w orth m ore for m an T han the shadow of a w isp of sm oke, com pared w ith joy. C H O RU S A nd w hat is this burden you com e bearing, O f new s for the royal household ? PA G E D eath. A nd the living are responsible. C H O RU S W ho has m urdered? A nd w ho lies dead? T ell! PA G E H aem on has perished: B loodied w ith the selfsam e hand . 37 1260 C H O RU S W as it his ow n hand or his father ’ s? PA G E H e slew him self, angry w ith his father F or the hom icide. c h or u s O prophet, how utterly you vindicate your w ord! PA G E T hat m uch is so; and now Y ou m ust consider all the rest. XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFED E n ter e u r y d i c e CHORUS B ut w ait! M ethinks I see the grieving w ife o f C reon, E urydice, out from the house by chance, O r having heard about her child. E U RY D IC E O m y tow nsm en, all o f you, 1270 42 T H R E E T H EB A N PLA Y S 1183-1212 X I have heard the w ords, A s I rushed into the road T hat I m ight com e praying to Pallas A thena, A nd it chanced that as I loosed the bolt U pon the doors to draw them back, A dreadful cry o f household m isery W as hurled into m ine ears, A nd dow n upon m y back I fell, In terror for m y fam ily, and fainted. B ut com e, and tell w hatever story you have left: F or I w ill hear it, as a w om an w ell acquainted w ith disasters. PA G E D ear M istress, I shall speak as one w ho w itnessed it, N or leave unsaid a w ord o f w hat is true. For w hy should I m ake soft for you W hat later w ould reveal m e as a liar? T he truth is alw ays right. w ent w ith your husband as a guide p to the lofty plain, w here still dyneices ’ body lay, tom ruthlessly by dogs. jid for him , w e begged o f Pluto 13 A nd the G oddess o f the R oads 38 T o stem T heir rages, A nd w ashing all w ithin a sacred bath, W herein w e placed the fresh-cut branches, W e burnt all that rem ained, A nd built a high-roofed tom b H eaped up w ith his native earth; A nd then w e turned aside, T ow ard the young girl ’s w edding-grave, T o enter on that sunken house o f H ades, W ith its granite 13: bench. B ut som eone heard a voice cry out F rom near the riteless, m ourning bridal cham ber A nd he cam e and told the M aster C reon. A nd as the king drew near, about his ears T here burst the unm eaning noises o f a w retched scream : A nd w ailing in his grief, he set his bitter w ord astir: O m iserable self! A m I a p ro p h e t? D o I n o w craw l th e road 1213 — 124 5 A N T IG O N E 43 M o st horrible o f all m y travelled roads? M y child's voice greets m ine ear! B u t, m y henchm en, 1310 Q u ickly, go closer, and tvhen yo u sta n d before the tom b P ass through the fissu re w here the building stones H a ve been rem oved to m ake a m outh into the cell; L o o k there, a nd see if I heard H a em o n ’ s cry, O r if som e G o d deceived m in e ear. W e looked to these com m ands of our despond ent L ord. T hen at the furthest station of the tom b W e saw her, hung by the neck in a noose o f linen Fastened to the roof. W e saw him , W ith his arm s throw n round her w aist, lying prone, B ew ailing his poor girl ’ s destruction, 1320 A nd the father ’ s actions, and the ruined bed of m arriage. A nd C reon, w hen he saw him , rushed in close L oud w ith agony, and shouted to him , calling O w retched m a n , w h a t have you done? W ha t sort o f m in d have you? A m id w h a t circum stance are you destroyed? C o m e o u t, child, I h u m b ly beg you ! A nd the son cast about him w ith eyes w ildly staring, W ith his face m adly folded, and w ithout a w ord H e drew his sw ord w ith the double hilt, and slashing out 1330 H e cam e just short o f his retreating father. T hen the m iserable one felt rage against him self A nd as he held the sw ord, he stretched tight and drove it on, T he blade betw een his ribs, into his side to the half-depth. W hile there still rem ained som e m ind in him , H e held his girl in feeble, sodden arm s A nd breathing sharp and hard, expelled bright drops o f blood In a stream onto her brilliant cheek. T here he lies now , A corpse beside a corpse, having finally attained 1340 H is w retched w edding, in the cham bers o f the D eath G od, H aving show n for all m ankind, that lack o f w ise advice Is the w orst o f all evils. [E xit Eurydice CHORUS W hat do you m ake o f this: the lady is gone, W ithout a w ord o f joy or sorrow . XW T H R E E T H E B A N PLAY S 44 1246-1270 PAG E I m arvel at it too; and cherish hopes T hat hearing of her child ’s pain She has not thought it right to grieve before the city B ut beneath her roof at hom e, she w ill set before her w om en This calam ity for tears and groaning. For she is versed in circum spection, and w ill not do w rong. 1 CH O RU S I do not know : to m e, the dark foreboding is no better W hen deep silence broods, than w hen vain shouts are m ade. PAG E B ut I w ill go to her hom e, and learn inside W hether she hides w ithin her furious heart Som e secret resolution. For I think you spoke w ell: W here there is heavy silence, astonishm ent w aits. [E xit Page E nter CREON, on the spectators' left, w ith attendants, carrying the shrouded body o f H aem on on a bier L o r us A nd now this sam e king com es, B earing in his arms a token of rem em brance, H aving w recked him self, if right divine should speak, 39 U pon no other ruin but his ow n m istake. 11 C RE O N O h, the hard bereavem ents, from m y stupid w ill! O , you elders all, look upon m y kinsfolk that have killed and died: XW O m e! M y em pty notions! A h, oh! M y child! D ealt young Y our portion, of an early death, A i-A i, O h, no! Y ou have died and are gone, From m y w rong thought, and not from yours. CHORUS A nd oh, how all too late you seem to recognise Justice! A N T IG O N E 1271 — 1300 45 CRE O N O h, but I have learned T he vile, sorry lesson of it: A nd then holding som e heavy w eight T he G od struck dow n into m y head, 40 A nd drove m e onto w ild trails, alas! W here joy w as overturned and tram pled! O h fie, fie, upon the cursed w orks of m ortals! E n ter m e s s e n g e r fro m the house M ESSEN GER M aster, it seem s you com e w ith sorrow s on your hands, A bout to grasp yet others, in your house: 1380 Soon you w ill beho ld them . CREO N O f all these evils, w hat evil yet rem ains? M ESSEN G ER T he queen, m y L o^d, is dead, o f a recent blow , T he true and despairing m other of this corpse. CREO N O hungry gates o f D eath, insatiable! W ill you kill m e piece by piece? Y ou com e sent to m e, O thou bitter m essenger o f pain, C rying w hat speech? A XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA i-a i, I w as a dead m an, and you killed m e 41 Y et again. W hat say you, boy, W hat new w ord for m e now , O h! O f m y w ife ’ s bloody slaughter and undoing? C H O RU S Y ou can see: for it is hid no longer. CRE O N A h, m e! I see a second grief, another cursed loss. W hat Fate is w aiting for m e? In m y hands I hold m y child, bereaved, A nd I see before m e one m ore corpse. I W oe, w oe, thou sorry m other, and w oe, child! 1390 46 TH REE TH EB A N PLAYS 1301-133 M E SSE NG ER T his w om an let her eyelids yield to darkness, D ying by the altar on the sharp-edged sw ord H aving cried for the fate of M egarius, far-fam ed, W ho perished in the form er days, A nd then for this one [indicating H aetnon]; A nd lastly she called dow n terrors U pon thyself, the slayer of her children. C RE O N XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA A i-a i, A i-a i, m y fear has spread its w ings. Is there no one now , to drive the double blade into m y breast? I am reduced to m isery, O h! C onfound ed w ith the dross o f w retched m isery! M ESSEN G ER She called you guilty o f his som bre fortunes, A nd of his. 42 JREO N A nd by w hat sort o f violence did she leave this life? M ESSEN G ER W hen she learned o f w hat her son had suffered She stabbed her liver, and she scream ed a sharp cry. C RE O N O h m e, m y life! T he blam e o f it can never m ove A nd be affixed to som e m an ’ s guilt, aw ay from m ine! It w as I, I, a useless m an! w ho m urdered you! A nd I speak the truth! M y servants, com e! A nd lead m e off, as fast as you can go; L ead m e as you w ould a m an W ho is no m ore than nothing. C H O RU S Y our advice is for the best, if best there be In so m uch evil. F or greatest brevity is greatest strength W hen troubles heap our feet. C RE O N L et it com e, let the best o f all fates com e, L et it appear, and lead m e to m y final day! C om e, and spare m e looking on tom orrow ! >1 1333-1353 A N T IG O N E 47 C HO RU S T hose events w ill com e; but w hat m ust now be done A m id w hat lies before you? For w hat w ill be 1430 Is their concern, w ho m ust tend such things. CREO N B ut in that prayer I speak out all m y w ishes. C H O RU S Pray no prayers now ! F or there is no escape F or m ortals, from their fated circum stances. CREO N O h lead m e out, O child, a m an o f vanities, A fool, w ho killed you w ithout w illing it, A nd I killed you! this w om an, m y w ife! O useless m an! I know not w here to turn; A ll in m y hands lies utterly askew , A nd an unbearable Fate H as driven dow n into m y pow er. 1440 [£xif XWVUTSR C reon C H O RU S W isdom is by far the greatest part o f happiness: N ever dishonour w hat concerns the G ods: T he grand w ords o f the proud are paid w ith heavy blow s T hat in old age have taught w isdom . I i OEDIPUS THE TYRANTXWVUTSRQPONM T h e title o f the p la y A lthough Sophocles ’ play O ed ip u s is often called O ed ip u s T h e K in g or L atin O ed ip u s R ex, I chose O ed ip u s th e T yra n t because that title better m atches the sound of the traditional (though post- Sophoclean) G reek title O id ip o u s T urannos, and because I w anted to suggest the obstinacy and w ilftilness O edipus show s in his confrontations w ith C reon and T eiresias. Finally, part o f w hat the G reek turannos denotes is the irregularity o f the ruler ’ s acquisition of pow er; that he com es to the throne either by force, or from a foreign country, or perhaps both. It seem s to m e that this w ord in Sophocles ’ title is bitterly ironic, because though O edipus truly is the heir to the T heban throne, no one knew this w hen he becam e king — least o f all him self. T u ra n no s is not used of hereditary sovereignty acqu ired in the norm al succession, the kind to w hich O edipus w as unw ittingly entitled. T o call him turannos, as Sophocles does in the course o f the play, is to specify that he cam e to the T heban throne from outside T hebes (by answ ering the riddle of the Sphinx), and not by the hereditary succession w hich he nevertheless fulfilled. E n ter wvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQ o e d ip u s , p r ie s t and c h o r u s O E D IPU S C hildren o f ancient C adm us, descended o f him now , W hy do you com e before m e so, desperate in supplication W ith w ool and laurel garlands out o f season? T he city teem s w ith incense, and prayers, • A nd m oaning. N o r do I hear these secon d hand, F rom som e m essenger — I m yself have com e, C hildren, to hear these things aright, W hom all m en call the fam ous O edipus. T herefore tell, O E lder, as befits your place, 50 TH REE TH EBA N PLA Y S io-4 O n their behalf, w hat m ood it is you stand in, Y earning, or afraid? - So eager am I A ll things to repair — for hard of heart I should be, if your kneeling did not m ove m e. p r ie s t G reat O edipus w ho m ake m e strong, Y ou see the diverse ages seated close B efore your altars; these w ho yet lack T he strength for far flight, and these H eavy w ith age. I am a priest of Zeus, A nd here are chosen boys yet unw edded — A nd another crowd w ith w reaths sits In the m arketplace, before the tw o tem ples O f Pallas A thena, w here Ism enus Plies his prophecies w ith ashes. For the city, as you yourself perceive, A lready pitches and heaves its head from the depths, A nd cannot stop the m urderous rocking. The land w anes, w ith fruit in calyx all unripe; The herds are barren, the w om en childless; A nd the fire-bearing G od W ith hateful plague drives diving through the city B y w hom the house of C adm us is m ade em pty, W hile dark hell grow s w ealthy w ith groans and w eeping. For these children and I sit at the hearth Judging you to be, not like the G ods, but First am ong m en - in com m on affairs A s in dem onic ones: and it w as you W ho cam e to C adm us ’ tow n and freed us From the bitter tribute the relentless Sphinx dem anded. A lone you did it, and knew no m ore than w e, U ntutored, unprepared — and as is know n and said Y ou fixed it, and repaired our life. A nd now , O edipus m ightiest in all m en ’s sight, W e all beseech you in earnest, sim ple prayer: Find us som e strength. H earing the voice of som e G od, O r know ing from a m an som e source, speak, Since tested people give the best advice C om e, O noblest of m ortals, and m ake the city s g 2 3: 4- 1 47-83 O E D IPU S T H E T Y RA N T 51 C om e, preserve your fam e, for now this country L auds its saviour for his form er zeal, A nd m ay w e never your great reign rem em ber Standing straight and later falling dow n! 50 B ut justify in steadfastness this city. F or then in augured birds you brought good om ens T o us, and w e are but the sam e nation now — So if you w ill rule this land, as rule you shall, B etter reign over living m en than em pty ground, W ithout a ship, a house, a tow er, but desolate A nd vain. O E D IPU S O piteous children, I know full w ell Y our yearning: I know you suffer, being ill — 60 A nd none am ong you therefore suffers so m uch A s m yself: for the pain o f all com es into one, A lone, unto him self, and none beside. M y soul groans for the city, and for m yself, A nd for you, so that I rise sleepless — A nd be aw are, I have w ept m uch, and m any A w andering road of thought have I gone dow n. So searching have I found but this recourse, A nd done it: I ’ ve sent C reon, M enoeceus ’ child, Into the Pythia, at A pollo ’ s shrine 70 T hat he m ight learn how , by action or com m and, I m ay save this city. A nd already, counting the days, I w orry: w hat keeps him ? F or he is gone beyond T he term o f such a journey — but w hen he com es, I should be vile if I perform ed O ne jo t less than w hat the G od reveals. p r ie s t B ut you ’ ve spoken w ith luck — those penitents A re w aving to m e now , that C reon approaches. O ED IPU S O L ord A pollo, m ay he com e brilliant in fortune W ith a bright face to bring salvation. PRIEST T o guess from here, it bodes w ell — his head G oes crow ned w ith w reaths o f berried laurel. 80 52 TH R EE TH EBA N PLA Y S XWVUTSRQPON 8 4~~ i c E n ter c r e o n O E D IPU S W e w ill soon know ; the distance draw s, A nd w e can hear him . O prince, M y cousin son o f M enoeceus, carrying w hat w ord H ave you com e from the G od to speak to us? C RE O N G ood w ord. A nd if our w oes are straightly overbom e, T hey all w ill settle to the good. O E D IPU S B ut w hat w as the oracle? W hat sort of w ords? F or w hat you ’ ve spoken gives m e neither peace nor fear. C RE O N If you require that these should listen too, I am ready to report it; or if you w ill, to speak inside. O ED IPU S Speak before everyone. F or the m isery I carry Is for them , m ore than for m y soul. JREO N T hen m ay I say the w ords I heard from the G od. M anifestly, the L ord A pollo rages at us O ver a pollution o f the country, w hich w e harbour In this land. H e rages, that w e drive it. out, A nd no m ore nurture this abom ination L est it grow incurable. O E D IPU S A nd w hat cleansing? W hat sort o f pollution? C RE O N B anishm ent, or else new death requite old m urder; F or this blood overcom es our city in thunder. O E D IPU S W hat kind o f m an does he denoun ce? C RE O N T here w as am ong us, great king, a certain L aius R uling before you cam e to steer the city straight. O ED IPU S I am told that. I never saw the m an. C RE O N H e died. A nd now the G od dem ands, clearly, h 1 0 7 -1 29 O E D IPU S T H E T Y R A N T T he punishm ent by force of Laius ’ killers, W hosoever they w ere. 53 no O E D IPU S B ut w here in the earth are they? W here w ill the faded trace O f this old guilt be found? CREO N In this very land, according to the oracle — A nd they can be found, it said, Provided w e take care lest they escape. O E D IPU S A nd Laius, is he m urdered at hom e, O r in a field, or in som e other country? C RE O N H e told us he w as going to consult the oracle. A nd being abroad, he w as com ing back hom e: B ut he never arrived. 120 O E D IPU S A nd no herald, no other pilgrim saw it, W hose testim ony one could use? CRE O N They all died — except for one, w ho fled in fear; A nd he could only say one thing he saw for certain. O E D IPU S W hat sort of thing? For w ith one clue W e could discover m any, and out of slow beginnings, Take hope. CRE O N H e said that thieves cam e on them , and killed the m an N ot w ith one, but m any m en ’ s hands together. O E D IPU S A nd how w ould any thief com e into such courage, U nless m oney w as involved? A plot — I 1 ■ i ! C RE O N So it appeared. B ut Laius having perished, T he right m an could not be found in the darkness that cam e onO E D IPU S B ut w hat sort of darkness w ould prevent A full inquiry in the m urder of your very sovereign? 130 54 T H R E E T H E BA N PLA Y S 130-15! C RE O N T he riddles of the Sphinx com pelled us, and her violence D rove that other m ystery from our attention. O E D IPU S B ut I w ill go back again, again show everything From the beginning. W orthily has Lord A pollo, A nd w orthily have you, brought this case around O n the slaughtered m an ’s behalf; so that w ith justice Shall you see m e allied, avenging G od and Thebes together. N ot for som e far-off friends, but for m yself W ill I scatter this pollution from us. For w hoever K illed that king m ight soon attack ourself. A nd so taking that king ’s cause, w e help our ow n. B ut rise, children of C adm us, from these steps, Praying w ith your w reaths of tw isted w ool and laurel, A nd som e attendant sum m on up the w hole people, A dvised that I w ill try everything. For w e w ill be seen — or w axing w ith the G od, O r shining in our ruin. PRIEST A rise, m y children, for this m an has spoken out The very grace for w hich w e cam e here. A nd m ay Saviour A pollo, sending this oracle. A rrive and arrest our disease. [E xeunt O edipus, P riest, C reon F irst C horal O de C H O RU S O sovereign speech of Zeus, H ow do you incline to Thebes from golden Pythia? 43 I am draw n upon the rack; Fear and exhausting w orry thrash m y heart; O D elian healer, called by our w ild cries, T he sacred dread of Y ou rises about m e; E ither utterly anew, or else from long ago returning, Y ou com pel old debts dow n the encircling years. Speak to m e, O voice im m ortal, child of golden H ope. D aughter of Z eus, deathless A thena, first do I call upon you 1 160-214 O ED IPU S TH E TY R A N T 55 A nd Y our sister, protector of the land W ho sits enthroned w ithin the m arketplace ’ s circle, A nd Phoebus A pollo, w ho strikes from far aw ay, oh Shine on m e Y our threefold care to w ard off death. If ever before now ruin drove upon the city, A nd Y ou expelled the burning plague, com e now ! 170 A las. M easureless sorrow s I carry. T he w hole people sickens, A nd can find no sw ord of thought for its defence. Earth bears no fruit; no birth relieves the w om en ’ s keening labour. 44 O ne after another m ay you see them gone, like birds, Sw ifter than w ild flam es, into the w estern shore of the D eath-G od; O f w hose unnum bered loss the city perishes, A nd at her feet her w retched children unlam ented he, C arriers of death. U pon the altar-steps, Y oung w ives and m others gray B ewail in prayer the grievous chore before them . So sighing as one voice, their paean shines; For w hose sakes, O golden daughter of Zeus, Send clear-eyed strength. G rant that A res the destroyer, w ho bum s m e now , A ttacking w ithout shield am id the scream ing crowd, M ay turn H is back and run H is course, far from our country, Into the vast A tlantic, or the harbourless Thracian w aves. W hatsoever N ight spares, D ay seizes to destroy. O Zeus, Father, dealing fire and lightning, W ith thunderbolts stop H im . B right Lord A pollo, I pray Y our rigid arrow s Scattered from the tw isted bow string m ay defend us; A nd the fights of A rtem is, flashing through the Lycean hills ; I call upon the gold-belted G od, that shares H is nam e w ith Thebes, B acchus dark w ith w ine, com panion of the M aenads A m ong brilliant torches crying to H im ‘ euoi! ’ 45 A pproach us as our ally, 18c 190 200 IwvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA 56 TH R EE TH EB A N PLA Y S 215-247 A gainst the G od unhon oured am ong G ods. XWVUTSRQPON E n ter o e d i p u s O E D IPU S Y ou pray. A nd w hat you pray for — if you are w illing to receive, A nd hearing m y w ords to tend your illness, Y ou m ight take courage and relief from sorrow s. I w ill speak out about these things, foreign as I am T o the story o f it and to the deed itself, F or I could not track it far alone U nless I held som e clue; but as it is, G iven that I w as reckoned a T heban am ong T hebans O nly after these things took place, 21 I ’ ll tell you all, C adm us ’ children, these things: W hoever o f you know s the m an by w hom Laius son o f L abdacus w as killed, I com m and him to relate it all to m e; A nd if he fears for him self, let him rem ove The retribution lurking in his w ay, •y him self, him self accusing. o■ r nothing m ore unpleasant shall he suffer T han to leave the land, unharm ed. O r if som eone know s a foreigner w ith guilty hands, 22: L et him not keep silent. F or I w ill pay R ew ard, and m y thanks shall he lay in store. B ut if you keep your silence, and fearing for som e friend P ut from you m y w ord and m y requiring, W hat I shall do then, you m ust hear from m e now : I do forbid that m an — w hosoever he is, T o be received by any person o f this land, O f w hich I am the sovereign and enthroned king; T o be spoken to w ith voice, pray in tem ples, Sacrifice in com pany w ith us, or pass T he w ater-vessel at the rites. F rom every house I banish him , as he is our scourge; So has the P ythian seer o f A pollo told us at the first. T herefore I am the ally o f the G od, and o f the slain m an too. I curse in prayer the one that did this, W hether he hides alone or w ith som e several m en, -23: '■ 248 — 2 8 1 O ED IP U S T H E T Y RA N T 57 T o sm other out unhallow ed his evil life in w retchedness. I do condem n m yself — if ever in m y house I know ingly m ake him m y guest — T o suffer all the sentence I have just decreed. I charge you to fulfil these things, 240 For m e and for the G od, and for this land Forsaken by the G ods and fruidess in destruction. For even if the G od did not thus drive the case upon us, W e should be base not to investigate W hen such a m an, high-bom and a king, Is m urdered thus. A nd now I do confirm it, Since I have and keep the rule he held before m e; I have his bed, I have the w ife w ho shared his seed. A nd com m on children w ould w e have, if that m an had sired any — 250 If he w eren ’ t so unlucky getting heirs. B ut as it is, Fate drove dow n into his pow er. T herefore just as if he w ere m y father I shall fight for him , and through every trial Searching shall I com e, to take his killer dow n; For Laius son of L abdacus, Polydorus ’ child, A nd he the son of C adm us, begotten by A genor. I pray that those w ho fail to do these things B e ruined by the G ods — no harvest in the field, N o children from the w om en; but let them , 260 B y their new condition, or a w orse one yet, B e thus destroyed. B ut you others of C adm us, W ho see these things through, m ay justice fight for you A lw ays, and alw ays the G ods be graciously w ith you. C H O RU S A s you have bound m e to speak w ith this curse, L ord, so shall I speak. F or neither have I killed, N or can I show the killer. B ut as for w hom w e seek, It w as for sign-sending A pollo to declare W hosoever it w as that did the w ork. O E D IPU S W ell said. B ut for a m an to com pel the G ods W hen T hey ’ re unw illing, is im possible. 270 58 TH REE TH EB A N PLA Y S 282-3.04 CH O RU S I m ight say a second w ay, that appears to m e beside these. O E D IPU S E ven if there is a third, speak it out unsparing. CH O RU S I know the L ord Teiresias can see as the very G od sees; A nd asking o XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA f him , m y lord, one m ight m ost clearly leam these things. O E D IPU S N or have I left that out of m y concern, F or since C reon spoke, I ’ ve tw ice sent m essengers to bring him — A nd I m arvel that he is not here. CH ORU S Y et ... aside from him , there w as an old and blunted rum our ... 'ED IPU S O f w hat kind? I m ust exam ine everything. 2! H ORU S H e w as said to have been killed by travellers. O E D IPU S I heard that too, but no one has seen the w itness. C H O RU S N o, but if he has his share in hum an fear H e w ill not slight such dread com m ands as yours. O E D IPU S B ut if he fears no action, he w ill not fear w ords. CHORUS Y et there is one w ho w ill convict him . F or these already lead the godlike seer In w hom alone the truth o f m ankind inw ard bloom s. E n ter t e i r e s i a s , led by a boy O E D IPU S O T eiresias w ho know all things, T eachable and unspeakable, o f heav en and o f earth, T hough you cannot see, you yet know in your m ind In w hat disease the city stands. A nd you alone, G reat L ord, have w e found to be our saviour A nd defence against the plague. F or Phoebus, 2$ 305-332 O ED IPU S TH E TY R A N T i 59 If you have not heard it from the m essengers, Sent back the m an w e sent, answ ering That freedom from this plague w ould only com e If, finding out w ho Laius ’ killers w ere, W e killed them , or drove them from the country. Therefore, do not w ithhold w hat augury you know From birdsong, nor any other path of prophecy w ithin your ken; T he city and m yself take into your concern; D eliver all from death ’ s pollution. W e are in your hands; A m an ’ s m ost noble labour is to give his aid, From all the pow ers he has. 300 5 TEIR ESIA S D am n . . . dam n . . . how terrible it is to understand W here understanding is useless.46 I knew that w ell once, and I forgot it — O r I w ould not have com e here. O E D IPU S W hat is it? Y ou ’ ve com e so fainthearted — 310 T E IRE SIAS Let m e go hom e. M ost easily shall you bear Y our burden to the end, and I m ine, if you consent. O E D IPU S Y ou speak against all custom and all love for this your city, W hich turns tow ard you, w hile you hoard your w isdom . T E IR ESIA S I see you speak at the w rong tim e; A nd I w ill keep m y silence, Lest m y suffering be like your ow n. O E D IPU S D o not refuse to speak if you have know ledge, W hen, by the G ods, all w e suppliants com e beseeching you! T E IR E SIA S A ll of you m isunderstand. B ut let m e never speak out M y m iseries — lest I call them yours. O E D IPU S W hat are you saying? Though you know , you w ill not tell, B ut think to betray us and destroy the city? T E IR E SIA S I w ill not trouble you, nor m yself. 320 6owvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONM T H R E E T H E B A N PL A Y S 333-355 W hat else w ill you accuse m e of? For you w ill not persuade m e. O ED IPU S O you w orst o f evils, you w ould infuriate a stone! W ill you never speak out, but only stand, relentless? TEIRESIA S Y ou deride m y spirit: but you know not W hat dw ells inside your ow n. A nd you blam e m e. O E DIPU S A nd w ho w ould not be angry, hearing these w ords B y w hich even now you disregard the city? TEIR ESIA S E ven if I hide the w ords, the things w ill com e. O ED IPU S If they m ust com e, you m ust tell m e o f them . TEIRESIA S I cannot say m ore. R age at it if you w ish, T o the m ost savage fury o f your heart. O E D IPU S M y w rath is such that I w ill leave unsaid N othing o f w hat I understand: therefore know , It seem s to m e you conspired for this deed, A nd so far perform ed it, all but killing w ith your hands. 3J If you could see, I should call the w ork yours alone. T E IR ESIA S In truth? I tell you by that self com m and Y ou bid us all obey: from this m om ent N ever speak to these nor to m yself: F or o f this land thou art the w retched scourge. O E D IPU S So sham elessly you throw such talk at m e? Pray, how do you expect to escape? T E IR ESIA S I am free, for the truth is m y strength. O E D IPU S W here w ere you taught that? N ot from your art. T E IRE SIA S F rom you: for you m ade m e speak, against m y w ill. Bi 359-378 O ED IPU S TH E TY R A N T 6i O E DIPU S W hat speech? Say it again, that I m ay learn it straight. TEIRESIA S Y ou did not understand it then? O r are you baiting m e to speak? O E D IPU S N ot to retell w hat is know n, but to say m ore — TEIR ESIA S I say that you are the m urderer, and the m an w hom ye seek. O E D IPU S B ut not unpun ished shall you tw ice speak slander! T E IRE SIAS Shall I unfold to you m ore yet, T hat you m ay grow m ore angry? I O E D IPU S So m uch as you can use — Since you w ill speak in vain. T E IR ESIA S It has eluded you, that w ith your dearest one 360 Y ou are conjoined in the greatest sham e A nd do not see the evil o f it. O E D IPU S Y ou expect to blithely say such things forever? T E IR E SIA S If there is som e pow er in the truth. O E D IPU S B ut there is — though not for you: to you the truth is nothing, Since you are blind, in your ears, in your m ind, and in your eyes. T E IRE SIAS P oor fool, to cast the very curses in m y teeth T hat soon every T heban soul w ill hurl at you. O E D IPU S Y our life is one great night; and m e, A nd anyone w ho can see sunshine, you cannot harm . 37° T E IR E SIA S Y our fate is not to fall at XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFE m y hands — A pollo is enough; 47 the vengeance o f it all Is H is affair. O E D IPU S Is this C reon ’ s invention, or your ow n? 62 wvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONM T H R E E T H E BA N PLA Y S 379-424 TEIRESIA S C reon is not your enem y, but you yourself. O E D IPU S O w ealth, and pow er, and skill surpassing skill In ceaseless com petition, how great the jealousy Y ou sum m on in your train — if for this crow n, T he gift the city gave m e all unasked-for, Placing it in trust w ithin m y hands — for this 380 T he faithful C reon, dear from the beginning, Should lust in underm ining darkness to depose m e In secret league w ith a conniving, m agical fraud — A charlatan, w hose eyes are keen to profit, B lind to prophecy. O r if not, com e, explain W herein you are this great divining genius. H ow is it, that w hen that m urderous riddling dog w as here, Y ou said nothing that could liberate this tow n? T hat enigm a w as not for som e bystander to resolve; 'Jo, a w izard w as required. Y ou w ere exposed 39» s having nothing know n from birds, or from the G ods; ut w hen I cam e, the ignorant O edipus, I stopped her: . hit the m ark by m y ow n m ind, 48 not learning from birds. I w hom indeed you struggle to unseat, expecting to attend H ard by C reon ’ s throne. I think you and your accom plice Shall lam ent this schem e o f driving out the scapegoat. I think if you w ere not so old, T hat you m ight learn from pain the final m erit o f your thoughts. C H O RU S It seem s to us his w ords w ere said in anger like your ow n, O O edipus, a m ood that canno t help; A nd that w e m ay best unfold the portent o f the G od, L et us look to it. T E IRE SIA S K ing that you are, each o f us is free to speak in turn; T hat pow er, even I possess. F or I do not live as your slave, but A pollo ’ s. I need n o t C reon for m y patron, but in m ine ow n defence D eclare, that you have reviled m e, that I am blind. Y ou are sighted, yet you do not see T hat you are w retched; nor w here you dw ell, 400 424-440 O E D IP U S T H E T Y RA N T 63wvutsrqpon N or w ith w hom you live; D o you know from w hom you com e? N or do you know that of your parents, Living and dead, you are the ruin. O ne day in lam e but terrible speed The double w hip of their com pounded curse — M other and father, shall drive you from this country: N ow you see aright, but then . . . darkness. W hat safe haven w ill not know your cries, W hat reaches of the m ainland shall be spared their speeding echo, W hen at last you com e to understand The w edding on w hich you em barked w ith such a fair w ind, Though your hom e is no harbour. B ut a crow d of other griefs you cannot guess W ill m ake you the peer of your ow n children; So drag the nam e of C reon, and m y m essage, through the m uc For never m ortal m an shall be so w retchedly destroyed as thoi 410 420 O E D IPU S C an it be borne, to hear these things from him ? G o to ruin! G o, quickly! G et aw ay from this house, A nd never com e back. TEIR ESIA S I w ould never have com e, had you not called. 430 O E D IPU S t I did not know w hat nonsense you w ould say, O r I w ould not soon have called. e i r e s i a s [turning XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA and w alking off] T hat is w hat I am , as it seem s to you A n idiot; but to those w ho m ade you, I am w ise. O E DIPU S W hat sort of - w ait! W ho am ong m ortals m ade m e? TEIR ESIA S This very day w ill m ake and then dissolve you. O ED IPU S Everything you utter is so dark a riddle. TEIR ESIA S B ut w eren ’ t you bom the best at solving them ? •! 64 T H R E E T H E B A N PL A Y S 441-469 O E D IPU S M ock m e for that w herein you ’ ll find m e great. 440 TEIRESIA S O f course that very talent has destroyed you. O E D IPU S If I have rescued T hebes, that does not vex m e. TEIR ESIA S I am leaving now . [to his boy:] A nd you, lead m e, m y child. O E D IPU S Y es, take him off; being w here his presence grates, M ake haste, that he never rankle m e again. TEIR ESIA S I leave explaining w hy I cam e, not in fear O f your face. F or by no m eans could you kill m e. I say to you: this m an, the one you searched for to arrest, Proclaim ing your m anhunt for the slayer o f L aius — 450 T hat m an is here; a guest, a resident foreigner B y reputation, w ho soon shall be revealed A true-bom T heban, though he did not expect that happy hour, F or from his vision, blindness; and beyond his w ealth H om eless shall he trail his exile, feeling w ith a stick H is w ay along the foreign ground. H e shall be show n, T hat o f those children o f his house he is the brother A nd the father, and o f her w ho bore him , H e is the husband and the son; A nd o f his father both the rival and the m urderer. G o into these affairs, and reckon them : If you find I am m istaken, Say that I have no m ind for prophecy. [E xeu n t T eiresias a n d O ed ip u s in different directions Second C h o ra l O d e C H O RU S W ho is it w hom the oracle accused O f deeds unspeakable in bloody hands? T he h o u r is com e for him to drive his steps Faster than horses riding like a storm : F or the S on o f Z eus 460 X O E D IPU S T H E T Y R A N T 46$r-5llwvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONM 65 W ith arm am ent of fire and lightning Leaps upon him ; A nd unfaltering T he dreadful Furies follow. For the holy edict Shines from Parnassus ’ slopes of snow , A nd all things hunt the hidden m an. B ereaved, he ranges m ad am id the w ild caves, A nd up the forest am ong stones H e w ends his m iserable footsteps Like a bull, Y earning to avoid The prophecy that dogs him From the centre of the w orld. B ut his sentence is aHve, A nd it hovers on him , endless. 470 480 W ithal how gravely hath the w ise interpreter of birdsong m oved m e; W hose w ord I cannot doubt nor yet beU eve; so shall I say it: I am at a loss. I fly at hopes, but cannot see the future, nor today. For w hat quarrel there w as m ade B etw een the house of Labdacus, and Polybus ’ son, In the past or present, I do not know ; I know of no feud that m ight be used As evidence to m ove against the m ighty reputation of our king, A nd so avenge the house of Labdacus for its m ysterious fall Zeus and A pollo know the fives of m ortals utterly ; B ut though a prophet m ay discern m ore than I m yself, Y et there is no certain reckoning of truth; Even if som e m an ’ s w isdom overtake another ’ s. B ut m ay I never, till I see the w ord is straight, agree W hen blam e is cast. Everyone know s: the m an w as seen to be w ise W hen the w inged, girl-faced H on cam e against him , A nd he stood our city in good stead — Therefore in m y heart I cannot call him crim inal. 490 $00 66 wvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONM T H R EE T H E BA N PLA Y S 512-537 E n ter c r e o n , h a vin g changed fro m his travel-clothes into princely ones CRE O N G entlem en citizens, having heard by rum oured, dire speeches T hat K ing O edipus denou nces m e, I have com e, im patient. If he believes that in our present crisis H e has suffered from m y bringing him to injury B y w ord or deed, then I have no desire for a long life U nder such a reputation. F or in no single care T he dam age of this charge has brought m e pain, 5io B ut in the general scope, if I should soon be called A villain in the city, and an enem y o f you and of m y kin. C H O RU S B ut surely this reproach cam e rather in his haste, C onstrained by rage, than in the w isdom o f his know ledge. CREO N B ut w as it really claim ed, that by m ine ow n advice T he prophet w as convinced to m ake a false report? H ORU S T he things w ere said, but in w hat earnest I do not know . R EO N D id he w ith straight eyes and sound heart 520* Im pugn m e w ith this accusation? C H O RU S I know not. F or the doings o f the great I do not see — B ut he him self em erges from his hom e. E n te r o e d i p u s from th e palace O E D IPU S It is you — how can you be here? O r have you such a brazen face, T o com e beneath m y ro o f w hen you are know n F or m y assassin, and the proven thief o f all m y throne? C om e, tell m e by the G ods, W as it stupidity or fear you thought you found in m e, T hat you w ould plan to do such things? T hat I w ould fail to note your w ork o f stealthy treason, O r that learning o f it I w ould let it he? 530 538-561 O E D IP U S T H E T Y RA N T 67 O r is yours not a m indless undertaking, To attem pt the throne w ithout a following, N o crowds, no noble friends - a thing R equiring m oney and support for its achievem ent? C R EO N W ill you m ark m e? A gainst w hat has been said H ear m e in turn, and then judge, having learned m y m ind. O EDIPU S Y ou are too eloquent, and I leam badly from you. For I find your w ill tow ard m e is cruel and heavy. 540 CREO N N ow for the first tim e hear from m e this very m atter, As I shall explain it — O ED IPU S ‘ This very m atter ’ do not tell m e, that you are not false C R EO N If you believe that stubbornness w ithout reflection Is a virtue, you are thinking crookedly. O ED IPU S If you believe you can betray a kinsm an A nd not answer for it, you do not think straight. CREO N I agree, that is quite justly said — B ut w hat these sufferings are, that you are said To suffer at m y hands — that you m ust teach m e. 550 O ED IPU S W ere you or w ere you not convinced That I should send for that pom pous sage? CREON [nodding XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA ‘ yes ’] A nd I am of the sam e m ind even now . O ED IPUS H ow long is the tim e since Laius — C REON W hat has that to do w ith it? I don ’ t have him in m ind. O EDIPU S Since he disappeared, overbom e by lethal force? CREO N The long years of it reach far behind. ■ 68wvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJIH T H R E E T H EB A N PLA Y S 562-581 ■ O ED IPU S T herefore this prophet w as at that tim e practising? CRE O N . H e w as just as w ise, and just as honoured . O E D IPU S D id he m ention m e at all at that tim e? CRE O N N ot, at any rate, w ithin m y hearing. O E D IPU S B ut you w ere pow erless to find the killer? CRE O N W e m ade a search, but w e heard nothing. O E D IPU S T hen how is it this w izard did not tell H is version of it then? C RE O N I have no idea. A nd I keep silent w here I ’ m ignorant. O E D IPU S If you ’ re w ise, you ’ ll tell m e w hat you know . C RE O N C oncerning w hat? If I know anything, I ’ ll not refuse. O E D IPU S Just this: that unless he had conspired w ith you, H e never w ould have spoken o f m y having m urdered Laius. C RE O N If he said that, you m ust know about it. B ut I expect T o learn as m uch from you as you now learn from m e. O E D IPU S L earn thoroughly; for I w ill not be taken for a m urderer. C RE O N W ell then — are you not m arried to m y sister? O ED IPU S Y ou ask about w hat no one w ould deny. C RE O N A nd you rule the land w ith her, in equal pow er? O E D IPU S W hatever she desires, I grant it to her. C RE O N A nd w ith you both I do enjoy a third share o f pow er? y 582-616 O E D IPU S T H E T Y R A N T 1 69 O E D IPU S Y es, and given that, you seem the m ore spiteful as a traitor. CREO N B ut I am none, if you w ill reason it as I do. First exam ine this: w ould any m an prefer 580 T o rule in fear, rather than to sleep at night at ease A nd have the selfsam e pow er? For m y part I had rather exercise T he royal privilege, than be a king; A nd so w ould anyone w ho reasons prudently. For now I benefit in everything from you W ithout a care; but if I w ere king m yself T here w ould be m uch to do against m y w ill. H ow on earth could it be sw eeter to be king 590 T han painlessly to share the rule, and ‘ prince ’ be called? 1 am not so confused as to desire O ther honours than the useful, pleasant ones. N ow I delight in everyon e and all m en bid m e w elcom e; N ow those w ho need you seek m y intercession, For on it, all the fortunes of their enterprise depend. W hy should I ever change m y station for the crow n? N o sound m ind w ould ever turn to treason; I have no love for such a policy, N or w ould I have the gall to take another ’ s part w ho did. A nd let this be the proof o f it: go to D elphi, 600 D iscover for yourself w hat the oracle has said, A nd w hether m y report o f it w as right; T hen if you find m e in collusion w ith our soothsayer ■ i K ill m e not by one vote, but join m y ow n to yours; D o not condem n m e on such cloudy inference. For it is not just, idly to suppose T hat evil m en are honest, and honest m en evil. For I think losing one good friend Is like the banishing o f very life from one ’ s ow n breast. B ut in tim e you shall know all m y loyalty; For tim e alone reveals the virtue o f a m an, B ut his evil can be gathered in a single day. chor us H e has spoken w ell, cautious lest he fall; 610 I 70 TH R EE TH EB AN PLA YS 617-63- F or they are not secure w ho speak w ith haste. O E D IPU S W hen the contriving, secret rebel m oves upon m e sw iftly, I m ust sw iftly m ake m y stratagem s in turn. B ut if I w ait in silence till his purpose be perform ed, M ine ow n w ill all m iscarry. CRE O N W hat do you intend? T o banish m e from T hebes? t O E D IPU S I had rather kill than liberate you, T hat you m ay show , for all, the m eaning o f pretension. CREO N So you w ill neither test m e nor believe m e, speaking thus? XWV [O edipus shakes his head, ‘ n o ’ . H is line in the text here is lost] C REO N I see you are not in your right m ind. O E DIPU S O h, but I am . ;r e o n B ut I m ust be sane m yself. O E D IPU S B ut you are w icked by nature. C RE O N So you w ill agree on nothing? O E D IPU S A nd I m ust govern all the sam e. C RE O N N o t if you govern m adly. O ED IPU S O city, city! C RE O N I too share the city; it is not yours alone. C H O RU S S top, L ords! I see that none too soon, Jocasta com es to you out o f the palace door W ith w hom you m ust p u t right your present quarrel. E n ter j o c a s t a , crow ned 6- i 634-658 O ED IP U S T H E T Y R A N T 71 JOC A STA O sorry m en, w hy have you tried each other w ith bickering? A re you not asham ed, dragging out your private grievance W hile the country languishes in sickness? W on ’ t you return hom e, and you, C reon, to your cham bers, A nd no m ore m agnify a petty cause? I 640 CREO N Sister, your husband O edipus decides W hich of tw o terrible punishm ents to put m e to: To be exiled from m y country, or be put to death. O ED IPU S 1 affirm it, O m y w ife, for 1 have found him Practising w ith treacherous designs H is spite upon our royal person. C R EO N M ay I never thrive, but be dam ned, - m ay I die, If I have done the least of w hat you charge m e w ith. JO CA STA O O edipus, believe him by the G ods; First in piety before his sacred oath, A nd then for m y sake, and for these your subjects. 650 C HO RU S C onsent, take heed, and be w ise, I beg you m y Lord. O ED IPU S W hat w ould you have m e grant? XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA [indicating C reon] That he, w ho never trifled w ith you in the past, Be held in your respect, by this, his late sw orn testim ony. chor us O ED IPUS D o you understand for w hat you ask? C H O RU S I understand. O EDIPU S Then tell m e w hat you m ean. C HO RU S That never on uncertain grounds should you condem n To guilt and sham e a friend w ho sw ears so gravely. O EDIPU S B ut understand this now : in seeking this, 660 I ! 72 T H R E E T H E B A N PL A Y S 659-68 Y ou seek m y exile and m y death. CH ORU S N ot by the forem ost G od o f all the G ods, N ot by the sun: friendless and godless m ay I die, In utterm ost despair, if ever I have such thoughts. B ut the w asting country w ithers up m y soul, T he w orse if you should join T he evils of your discord to our older sorrow s. O E D IPU S T hen let him go, and if need be, rather let m e die T han be sham ed in lifelong exile from m y hom eland. For your m outh m oves m e to pity, though his cannot. B ut w hile he is here, he shall be hated. CREO N I see you are as bitter now as you w ere heavy W hen your anger drove your heart so far. A nd it is just, that natures like your ow n A re m ost difficult for their bearers to w ithstand. O E D IPU S N ow get thee gone, aw ay from m e. C RE O N I am leaving, and though you w ill not know m e, [indicating th e C horus] T o these I am the sam e m an I ever w as.'9 [E xit C reom C H O RU S L ady, w hy do you delay, to bring your m an inside the house? ♦ JO CA ST A T o learn w hat argum ent this w as. CHORUS Ignorant suspicions rose from gossip, A nd the w rong o f it is ravenous. JO C A ST A D id it com e from both o XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHG f them ? CHORUS Y es. JO C A S T A A nd w hat w as the story? CHORUS It seem s enough , w ith the land already sore, 686-715 O E D IPU S T H E T Y RA N T 73 T o let the quarrel rest w here it w as left. O ED IPU S I see that you have com e, though I know you m ean w ell, T o m erely trying to appease m y heart. 690 C H O RU S M y sovereign lord, I have not said this only once: M ay you know m e for insane, and set m y m ind at naught, If ever I have yet rejected you, W ho have borne m y dear hom eland sw iftly forw ard W ith your labours, and now shall lead it into safety. JO CA ST A B y the G ods tell m e also, m y good L ord, For w hat event you have upraised in you So great an anger? O ED IPU S I ’ ll tell you; for I reverence you m ore, Lady, T han those w ho know it now . 700 T he cause is C reon, and his designs against m e. JO C A ST A E xplain, and clearly tell m e all the fight from the beginning. O ED IPU S H e claim ed that it w as I w ho m urdered Laius. JO C A ST A H e said that by him self, or learned it from another? O ED IPU S N o, by sending in the prophet H e left his ow n m outh free of any slander. JO C AST A N ow put by you all the cares you speak of, A nd hear from m e, and learn H ow no one am ong m ortals truly has the art of prophecy; A nd let m e briefly show you all the proof of it: T he answ er o f an oracle once cam e to Laius — I w ill not say it w as from A pollo H im self, B ut from the ones through w hom H e speaks — T hat to L aius the fate w ould com e, T hat he be killed by his ow n child, W hoever should be bom from m e and that king. B ut as the tale is told, the m an w as m urdered 710 T H R E E T H EB A N PL A Y S 74 716-73! B y som e foreigners, robbers at the crossroads W here three trails com e together. A nd w hen our child w as barely three days old, T hrough the ankles o f its feet he drove a little stake, A nd in the hands of other m en he sent it to the w ilderness. So here A pollo did not bear it out, T hat the child should becom e the killer o f his father, N or w hat so sorely frightened Laius, T hat he be slaughtered by his son. T hus did the prophecies scribble out their circles — So do not vex yourself w ith turning through them . For w hatever needful thing the G od seeks, H e H im self w ill effortlessly show it. O ED IPU S H ow m y soul w anders back, w om an, A nd m y spirit heaves, as I hear you speak. JO CA ST A W hat sort o f w orry do you think on, saying that? O E D IPU S XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA I thought I heard you say it, that Laius W as slaughtered w here three roads m eet. JO CA STA Y e s, th a t w a s sa id , a n d th e y still sa y it n o w . O E D IP U S A n d w here is the place w here he suffered? JO C A ST A T he place is called Phocis, and the set o f roads G oes out from D aulia and into D elphi itself. O E D IPU S A nd how m uch tim e has com e and gone S ince this thing happened? JO C A ST A It w as about the tim e w hen you appeared in T hebes A nd w ere proclaim ed the ruler o f the city. O E D IPU S O Z eus, w hat have Y ou decided to do to m e? JO CA ST A B u t w hat is that to you, O edipus, in your heart? 74 740-764 O E D IPU S T H E T Y R A N T 75 O E D IPU S D o not ask m e. B ut tell m e, T o w hat age of his life had Laius com e? JO C A ST A H e w as old, and the w hite had started growing in his hair. H is face w as not m uch different from your ow n. O E D IPU S O h m y soul — w retched. I think that just now I have throw n m yself under a grievous curse A nd did not know w hat I w as doing. 750 JO C A ST A W hat are you saying? M y lord, I trem ble looking on you. O ED IPU S M y heart quails, that the seer m ay not have been so blind. B ut show m e better, and explain one thing m ore. JO C A ST A Though I shrink from it, w hen you tell m e w hat it is I prom ise I w ill speak. O ED IPU S W hether he left w ith just a few, O r m any royal escorts to accom pany the m an? JO C AST A In all they w ere but five, and am ong them W as a m essenger. B ut Laius travelled in a single w agon. 760 O E D IPU S O h, already all of it is proved! W ho w as it, w om an, w ho told you these things? JO C A ST A A servant, the only survivor to return. O E D IPU S A nd is he still here in the house, now ? JO C A ST A i = - I N ot at all. For w hen he cam e back from that place, A nd saw you reigning after Laius perished, H e cam e and took m e by the hands and begged m e That I send him off into the fields, out to the sheepfold, So he could be as far as possible from sight of Thebes A nd so I sent him . For I thought him such a w orthy slave That he deserved at least that grace. 770 76wvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJIH TH R EE TH EB A N PLA Y S 765-793 O E DIPU S H ow can he be brought in haste back to the city? JO C A ST A It is possible, but w hat do you w ant o f him ? O E D IPU S O w om an, I am frightened for m yself, T hat I have said so m any things For w hich I need to see him — JO CA ST A B ut he w ill com e. A nd I hope I m ay be w orthy, O m y L ord, to leam w hat thoughts you bear so heavily. O E D IPU S A nd that hope shall not be slighted: 7& I am so far gone — to w hom can I speak but you, A s I m ove into a fate like m ine? Polybus of C orinth w as m y father, A nd m y m other M erope the D orian. XWVUTSRQPONMLK I w a s held to be the greatest m an O f all that city, until som ething happened W orthy o f am azem ent, though not o f all the tears I gave it. O nce at supper A m an w ho had drunk too m uch w ine C alled m e the -‘ counterfeit’ son o f m y father. 790 A nd being burdened w ith that, I scarcely could restrain m yself A ll day, and next day I confronted both m y parents w ith close questions — A nd they w ere furious at him for his reproach, T he one w ho threw those w ords at m e. A s for their explanation, I w as so far satisfied. B ut the thing still gnaw ed at m e, F or the rum our o f it spread. So all in secret from m y m other and m y father I m ade a journey into D elphi; A nd A pollo, not honouring the questions I had com e to ask, R evealed to m e the abject m isery and terror o f H is w ord: T hat I m ust be coupled w ith m y m other A nd show to m ankind children that they find U nbearable to look upon, A nd becom e the killer o f m y father w ho begat m e. 8oo 794*827 = i O ED IPU S TH E TY R A N T 77 A nd hearing this, by the distant stars I gauged m y w ay To flee the land of C orinth, and seek exile In som e place w here I m ight never see Fulfilm ent of those m iserable portents. A nd travelling I cam e to those same regions 810 W here you say this king w as killed. A nd to you, w om an, I w ill explain the truth: 1 w as w alking near the triple-crossroads, and there cam e A herald, and a m an in a w agon draw n by colts, O f the sort you spoke of, com ing tow ard m e From the opposite direction; the driver A nd the old m an him self w ere bent O n throw ing m e from the road by force; A nd the one w ho sw ore at m e - that I m ust stand aside The driver — I struck him in a rage. 820 A nd w hen the old m an saw m e, H e w atched for m e w alking close to his chariot A nd beat m e on the m iddle of m y head w ith the sharpened rod They use to goad the horses. I paid him back In m ore than equal m easure: W ith a quick jab of m y staff, from this hand H e w as pitched dow n from the m iddle of the car O nto his back, in a m om ent. A nd I killed them all. B ut if this stranger w as related in som e w ay to Laius, 830 Then w ho is now m ore w retched than this m an? [indicating XWVUTSRQPONML him self] A nd w hat m an m ore despised by spirits, W hom no tow n, no stranger m ay receive, N or can any even talk to him , But they m ust drive him from their houses. A nd it w as none but I m yself w ho set this curse in place To fall upon m y head, — I defile the dead m an ’ s bed W ith these hands by w hich he died; A m I not evil? A m I not utterly unclean? N ow m ust I be banished, and w hen I go 840 I m ay not see m y fam ily, nor set m y foot Into m y country, lest I be bound into a m arriage W ith m y m other, and kill m y father Polybus W ho begat m e, and raised m e — i ■ 78 T H R E E T H E BA N PL A Y S A nd w ouldn ’ t one be right, to judge That all this cam e upon m e from a spirit C ruel, and beyond the things of m an? D o not, do not, Y ou sovereign holy G ods, Let m e see this day; B ut let m e vanish from the m ortal w orld B efore a stain like this pollutes m y life! 828 — 854 8f C HO RU S Y our highness, w e are frightened at these things; B ut keep your hopes until you listen to the w itness. O E D IPU S I have only so m uch hope As m akes m e w ait here for the shepherd. JO C ASTA A nd w hen he has appeared, w hat w ill you do w ith him ? O E D IPU S I ’ ll teach you that — if he is found R epeating your selfsam e story, I escape disaster. jO CA S T A B ut w hat, of all you ’ ve heard m e say, Is so im portant to you? 86 O E D IPU S Y ou told m e that the shepherd said Laius w as killed by thieves. So if he still says it w as XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFED several, C learly then, it w as not I w ho killed him . For one and m any cannot be m ade equal. 50 B ut if he says it w as one solitary traveller, T hen the deed is already fallen on m y head. JO C A ST A B ut know that the story ran like so — A nd he cannot contradict this — I heard that it w as m any, A nd I am not the only one w ho heard it thus. B ut even if he sw ay from that report, N ever, O m y king, w ill Laius ’ m urderer B e properly revealed to justice — Since the oracle expressly said S7 8 5 5 -8 8 7 O E D IPU S T H E T Y RA N T 79 XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA That he m ust die at the hands of m y child: B ut that poor infant never killed him , For he him self had perished long before; So that w here prophets are concerned, I see their m erit neither here nor there. 880 O E DIPU S W ell reasoned. B ut all the same, D o not delay, but send a m an to fetch the shepherd. JOCASTA I w ill send som eone im m ediately. B ut let us go inside the house. For I w ill do nothing but w hat pleases you. [Exeunt C reon and Jocasta Third C horal O de C HO RU S M ay it be m y portion to rem ain In graceful purity of w ord and deed B eneath established law s that w alk on high B egotten in the air of heaven A nd only O lym pus is their father, N or w ere they bom from the race of m en, N or shall Lethe ever close their eyes; The G od in them is great, A nd they do not grow old. H ubris breeds a tyrant; H ubris, if it gorges on abundance A nd in vain, against the m om ent and the circum stance It m ounts up to the highest, Stepping from the precipice To ruin, w here the footsteps cannot help. A nd I request it of the G od, That H e never end our striving to be noble to the city. I w ill never stop m y reverence of G od as our protector. A nd if one should, in w ord or deed of hands, Be proud and have no fear of justice, N or no awe before the statues of the G ods, M ay som e terrible fortune take him , 89<- 900 I I 1 8o T H RE E T H E B A N PL A Y S 888-921 C utsed in his arrogance, If he does not gain his profit fairly, A nd puts by him pious w ays, To tam per recklessly w ith sacred things. W hat m an in such straits w ill boast That he can shield his soul from the arrow s of the G ods? For if such acts are respected, W hy should I join in the dance and w orship? 910 N o longer w ill I go into the centre of all land Praying at its sanctity, N or into the A baian tem ple, 920 N or O lym pus, if these prophecies do not take hold . A nd teach by their exam ple all the m ortal race. Therefore, O R uler Zeus, Lord of all, If ever Y ou hear us clearly, Let nothing go unseen By Y ou in Y our eternal reign; For now they slight the prophecies O f Laius ’ legendary death, A nd now here is A pollo given honour m anifest, B ut religion lim ps aw ay. XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCB E nter j o c a s t a from the palace as a suppliant, w ith w ool and laurel JO C A ST A M y lords of Thebes, T he thought cam e to m e to betake m yself Into the tem ple of our household G ods, Taking in hand these w reaths and incense. For the heart of O edipus rises to the height O f every kind of pain; nor like a sane m an W ill he com pare new om ens T o older ones that failed; B ut the talker has his ear, If he speaks of horrors. A nd since m y counsel can do nothing, I have com e to Y ou, O Lycean A pollo, N earest G od, as a suppliant w ith prayers, T hat Y ou m ight show us som e solution U ndefiled by stigm a. 930 940 922-943 O E D IPU S T H E T Y RA N T 8l For now w e all are frightened, Like the crew that sees its captain trem ble. XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFE E n ter an old m e s s e n g e r M ESSEN GER C an som eone tell m e, strangers, W here is the house of O edipus the king? O r better, tell m e w here he is him self, if you know . C HO RU S B eneath this roof, for the m an is at hom e, Sir. 950 A nd the m other o f his children is there also. M ESSEN GER A nd m ay she thrive in happiness and w ealth, E ver the m istress of that m aster ’ s house. JO C ASTA A nd the sam e happiness to you, Sir; For your sw eet w ords are deserving. B ut speak, and tell us w hat you need, O r w hat you ’ ve com e to say. M ESSENG ER I bring good w ords to your house, and to your husband, A nd to you, m y Lady. JO C A STA A nd w hat w ords are those? From w hom have you com e here? 960 M ESSEN GER From C orinth. A nd the speech I m ake w ill please you, A s how could it not? B ut perhaps it m ay trouble you — JOCA STA B ut w hat is it? A nd how can it have such double pow ers? M ESSENG ER T he people o f that land w ill have him for their king, O f all the realm o f C orinth, w here they said this. JO C A STA W hy? D oes not the elder Polybus yet rule there? M ESSENG ER N o m ore; for he is dead, and in the grave. JO C A STA W hat did you say? H as Polybus died, old m an? I i 82 T H RE E T H EB A N PLA Y S 944-964 X M ESSENG ER If I am lying, I deserve to die. JO C A ST A H andm aid! G o and quickly tell your m aster all o f this. 97 O you oracles divine, w hat are you now ? O edipus long ago fled from this m an, A fraid lest he kill him — and now that sam e m an Perishes not by O edipus, but by gentle fortune. E n ter o e d i p u s fro m the palace O E D IPU S O Jocasta, m ost beloved w om an, W hy have you sum m oned m e from out m y house? JO C A ST A T o hear this m an — and as you listen, C onsider w hat those pom pou s oracles have com e to. •EDIPUS B ut w ho is this m an, and w hat concerns m e in his speech? JO C AST A H e com es announcing it from C orinth, T hat your father Polybus is no m ore; H e has perished. O E D IPU S W hat say you, stranger? T ell m e again. M ESSEN G ER Since I m ust tell you this thing clearly first o f all, K now w ell that the m an has gone dow n into death. O E D IPU S W as it by som e treachery, or did disease break in? M E SSE NG ER A slight decline hath laid his aged body dow n. O ED IPU S T he patient m an w as killed by illness, I suppose. M E SSE N GE R A nd by the long m easure o f his years. O E D IPU S A las, m y w ife, w hy should anyone look to the shrine O f P ythia, or the shrieking birds w ho taught T hat I w as bound to kill m y father? 95- 965-991 O E D IPU S T H E T Y R A N T 83 For he died, and he is hidden in the ground, W hile for m y part I did not touch a sw ord. U nless he w ithered longing for m y com pany. B ut the prophecies, at least the ones w e heard, Polybus has taken dow n to H ades, W here they w orthless lie. JO C A ST A A nd have I not said as m uch to you before? O ED IPU S Y ou have. B ut I w as led by fear. 1000 JO CA STA N ow brood no m ore upon them in your heart. O ED IPU S M ust I not fear m y m other ’ s bed? JO CA STA W hy should a m an be afraid, for w hom N ature rules, A nd for w hom no foreboding can be clear? The greatest strength is but to live at ease, As far as one is able. A nd you — N ever fear about your m other ’ s m arriage: For already in their dream s have m any m ortals Lain dow n w ith their m others. B ut life is easy For the one w ho sets such things at naught. 1010 O EDIPU S All this w ould be w ell spoken of you, 51 If m y m other did not happen to be yet alive. B ut as it is, since she lives still, I still m ust fear, even if you speak w ell. JOC A STA B ut how great a com fort is your lather ’ s grave. O EDIPU S It is, I understand. B ut I do fear her, W ho still is living — M ESSENG ER W ho is the w om an w ho is so m uch to be feared? O ED IPU S M erope, w ho w as Polybus ’ w ife. messen g er B ut w hat is there in her that frightens you? 102 0 IwvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA 84 T H RE E T H EB A N PLA Y S 992-I0H 2 O E D IPU S A terrible om en that the G ods thrust dow n, O stranger. M ESSEN GER Tell m e, w on ’ t you? O r is it not for other m en to know ? O E D IPU S Just so. For A pollo told m e T hat I and m y m other w ould be joined; T hat I inust take m y father ’s blood upon m y hands. B ecause of that I long ago left m y hom e of C orinth far behind. A nd w ith fortunate result. B ut all the sam e, It w ould be sw eetest to m y eyes To look upon m y parents. 10 M ESSEN G ER A nd it w as fearing these things That you w ent to exile? O ED IPU S O ld m an, I needed not to be m y father ’ s killer. M ESSEN G ER A nd have I not delivered you, great Lord, From this fear, by com ing here w ith good new s? O E D IPU S Indeed you m ay take from m e a w orthy thanks. M ESSEN G ER In fact, I rather cam e for that — T hat w hen you com e back hom e, Som e good m ay com e to m e. O E D IPU S B ut I w ill never go back to m y parents. M E SSE NG E R O child, it ’s clear that you know not w hat you do. O E D IPU S H ow so, old m an? Teach m e, by the G ods. M E SSE NG ER If you ’ re afraid to com e back hom e because of those things O ED IPU S Y es, terrified lest Phoebus prove H is w ord to m e. M E SSE N G E R Lest you take corruption from your parents? 10. IO I3-IO 3O O E D IP U S T H E T Y RA N T 85 O ED IPU S O f just that, I shall be frightened forever. M ESSEN G ER D o you realise that your w orry is not justified? O ED IPU S H ow is it not, if I am the child of m y parents? M ESSEN G ER B ecause Polybus is no relative of yours. O ED IPU S W hat say you? D id not Polybus father m e? 1050 [indicating XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA h im self] messen g er N o m ore than this m an, but just as m uch. Oe d ip u s [indicating the m essenger as he says ‘ no fa th er ’ ] A nd how can m y father be no father? M ESSEN G ER A h, it w as not I, nor that m an, w ho begat you. O ED IPU S B ut — w hy then did he call m e his child? M ESSEN GER From the tim e — know it — w hen he took the gift of you From m y hands. O ED IPU S A nd though this child had com e from other hands, H e learned to love it so m uch? M ESSEN G ER Y es, for his form er childlessness w on him over. O E D IPU S A nd did you buy m e, or finding m e by chance 1060 Y ou gave m e to him ? M ESSENG ER I found you in the w ooded gorge in the C ithaeron m ountains. O E D IPU S W hy had you m ade your w ay to such a place? messen g er I had set m y flocks to graze there on the m ountainside. O ED IPUS So you w ere a shepherd, and a w andering tradesm an? M ESSEN GER A nd o f you, child, I w as the saviour, back then. I 86 TH R EE TH EB A N PLA Y S 1031-104$ O E D IPU S A nd w hat w as m y suffering, w hen you took m e in your arms? M ESSEN GER Y our ankles are the w itness o XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIH f that. O E D IPU S A h m e, w hy have you spoken of that old evil? M ESSEN GER I freed you, for there w ere spikes run through your feet. T( O E D IPU S A dreadful sham e I carried from the very cradle. [indicating O edipus ’ ankles] So that from that fortune you are nam ed as you are. messen g er O ED IPU S O h, w as it from the G ods, or m y m other, or m y father? Tell me! M ESSEN G ER I don ’t know . B ut the one w ho gave you to m e K now s this better than I. O E D IPU S Y ou did not find m e yourself — B ut had m e from another? M ESSEN G ER N o, another shepherd gave you to m e. O E D IPU S W ho is he? D o you know him , to point him out W ith som e description? M ESSEN GER H e w as surely called som e servant of Laius. O E D IPU S O f the king of this country, long ago? M E SSE NG ER Exacdy. A nd this m an w as his shepherd. O E D IPU S A nd does he yet live, so that I can see him ? [to the C horus] Y ou m en of the country w ould know best. messen g er O ED IPU S W ho is it of all you m en present here W ho know s the one he talks of, having seen him In the fields, or in this place? IQ I 0 5 0 -1 0 7 I O ED IP U S T H E T Y RA N T 87 Show it; for this is the m om ent For it all to be discovered. 1090 chor us I think it is no other than the m an from the fields W hom you lately sought to look upon. B ut Jocasta m ight tell this m atter best. O E D IPU S W om an, do you think this is the very m an T o w hom w e lately sent com m and to com e here? Is that the m an he speaks of? JO C ASTA W hy ask w hom this m an talks about? D o not linger on it; A nd for the rest o f w hat w as said, Y ou need not deign but to rem em ber it in idleness. O E D IPU S It could not happen, that taking evidence like this I should fail to show m y origins! 1100 JO C A ST A D o not by the G ods, if you care at all for your life, Pursue this! I am aggrieved enough — O E D IPU S T ake courage. F or if I show m yself descended O f a m other w ho is thrice a slave, Still XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA yo u w ill not be basebom . JO C A ST A Still, obey m e — I beg you. D on ’ t do this. O ED IPUS I w ill not be persuaded not to learn it clearly. JO C A ST A B ut I speak know ing too w ell w hat is best for you! O E D IPU S A nd your best advice enrages m e again. . jo c a s t a O dam ned one, m ay you never know w ho you are! O ED IPUS Som eone go bring the shepherd here to m e, A nd leave this w om an to rejoice in her nobility. JO C A ST A O , O , you sorry, doom ed m an! 111 0 88 T H R E E T H E BA N PL A Y S 1071-1102 X For that is all I can say to you, A nd no other w ords ever again. [exit Jocasta into the palace] C H O RU S W hy did she go, O O edipus, the lady W ildly racing from her pain? I fear that evils w ill burst upon this silence. O E D IPU S Let break forth w hat m ust: B ut I w ill seek to know m y origins, H ow ever hum ble they shall be. A nd perhaps m ilady, w ho lords it like a queen, Is asham ed that I am ill-derived. B ut I hold m yself to be the child of Fortune, W ho has som etim e blessed m e, A nd I shall not be dishonored. For I am bom from such a m other; A nd the m onths, that are m y brothers, H ave m ade m e both a sm all m an and a great one. So being bom from such a parent, I w ill never m ore be any other kind of m an, N or fail to learn m y lineage. 113: nj< F ourth C horal O de CH O RU S If I am a soothsayer, w ise in judgm ent and discerning, B y O lym pus, it shall be you, O C ithaeron m ountains, T hat w e shall glorify as O edipus ’ nurse, A nd his com panion, and his m other, O n the next full m oon; and w e w ill dance for you, W ho brought such succour to our king. A nd A pollo, to w hom w e cry, m ay these things please Y ou. W hich one, child, W hich of the long-lived N ym phs m ade love to Pan, R oam ing through the m ountains, and begat you? O r did A pollo ’s lover bear you? For H e adores all the w ild highlands. O r else Lord H erm es, II4< i 3 z IIO 3 -II2 7 O E D IP U S T H E T Y RA N T 89 O r the G od of B acchanalian joy, D w elling on the heights o f stone R eceived the sw eet surprise From som e nym ph on M ount H elicon 1150 In w hom H e delights the m ost in dalliance. - O ED IPUS If I m ust guess, even I w ho haven ’ t dealt w ith him before, O ld m an, I seem to see the shepherd W hom w e have been seeking. H e seem s as aged as this m an XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFED (indicating the M essenger) A nd I recognise the ones that lead him A s m y servants. B ut you w ill quickly overtake m e In that know ledge, having seen the m an before. C H O RU S B e certain o f it, you are right. For the m an w as in L aius ’ service, 1160 A s trusted by him as any other herdsm an. E n ter the old s h e p h e r d o e d ip u s [addressing the M essenger a n d indicating the Shepherd] I ask you first, m y guest of C orinth, Is this the m an you m ean? [indicating the Shepherd] messen g er T he very m an you look upon. [to the Shepherd] Y ou, Sir, look at m e, old m an, look here o e d ipu s A nd answ er w hatever I ask you. D id ever you belong to Laius? s h e ph e r d I did. B ut not as a slave he bought, F or I w as bom in his house. O E D IPU S W hat labour had you? W hat kind of life? s h e ph e r d For the m ost part o f m y life I have been called a shepherd. W hat places had you for your neighbourhood? o e d ipu s SHE PH ERD I w as in the C ithaeron M ountains, 1170 90 T H R E E T H E B A N PLA YS 11 27-114.9 A nd around there I w as. O E D IPU S A nd therefore, do you know of having m et this m an In that place? SH E PH E RD D oing w hat? A nd w hat m an do you m ean? O E D IPU S T his m an right here. H ave you ever had any dealings w ith him? SH EPH ER D N ot to speak of, at the call o f m em ory. M ESSEN G ER A nd it is no w onder, M aster. B ut I shall aw aken his forgetfulness T o lucid m em ory. For I am sure he does rem em ber, W hen near C ithaeron, tending m y one flock, ri& I used to m eet him as his tw o flocks grazed; T his for three half-years, from each spring ’ s beginning T o A rcturus ’ rise in the autum n daw n. A nd w hen the w inter cam e, I drove m ine hom ew ard to the sheepfold, A nd this m an drove his back to L aius ’ pastures. D id any o f these things happen as I say they did, or no? SH EPH ER D Y ou speak the truth; but from a long tim e ago. M ESSENG ER C om e now and tell m e, do you rem em ber giving m e A child, that I m ight raise the foundling as m ine ow n? SH E PH E R D W hat o f that? W hy do you ask that question? M E SSE N G E R O ld friend, this is that one, w ho w as an infant then. SH E PH E RD G o to ruin! W ill you not be quiet, at last? O E D IPU S D o n ’ t punish him , old m an. Y our w ords need punishing M ore than his. SH E PH E R D O m ost brave m aster, how have I done w rong? 119: I i 1150-1166wvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJI O ED IPU S TH E TY RA NT 91 O EDIPU S In not answ ering w hen this one asks about the child. SHEPHERD For he speaks in ignorance, talking in vain. X 200 O EDIPU S If you w ill not speak from your free grace, Y ou m ay yet from com pulsion speak. SH EPH ER D N o, by the G ods, don ’ t torture m e in m y old age! O EDIPU S Q uickly — som eone tie his hands behind him . SH EPH ER D For w hat? W hat else do you w ant to know ? O ED IPU S D id you give a child to this m an, T he child he asked about? SH EPH ERD I gave it. A nd I w ish I had died that day. O ED IPU S Y ou w ill com e to that pass yourself U nless you tell the honest truth. 1210 SH EPH ERD I am likelier by far to perish if I speak. O ED IPU S It seem s this m an is stalling . . . SH EPH ER D N ot I, not at all. B ut I told you before, I gave the child aw ay! O ED IPU S H aving taken it from w here? From your ow n house, or from another ’ s? SH EPH ER D It w asn ’ t m ine, I had it from another m an. O e d i p u s [indicating XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA th e C horus] From w hat citizen, and out of w hat hom e? SH EPH ERD N o, by the G ods, m aster, ask no m ore! O ED IPUS If I ask you again, you are a dead m an. 1220 92 T H R E E T H E BA N PLA Y S 11 67-118 J SH EPH ER D H e w as a child o f L aius ’ household. O E D IPU S A slave or som e relative of his? SH E PH E RD O h, m y soul! I am close to uttering the horror. O E D IPU S A s am I to hearing it. B ut I m ust hear it still. SH EPH ER D Indeed it w as called a child of Laius. B ut the w om an inside, your lady, m ight tell it best — For she is able. O ED IPU S D id XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA she g ive it to you? SH EPH ER D Y es, m y L ord. O ED IPU S W ith w hat design? *2; SH EPH ERD T hat I should do aw ay w ith him . O E DIPU S T he m other w as so hard? SH EPH ER D She w as afraid o f the predicted evils. O E D IPU S W hat kind? SH E PH E RD T he w ord w as, that he w ould kill his father. O E D IPU S T hen w hy didst thou give it to this old m an? SH E PH E R D F rom pity, M aster, T hinking he w ould take it to another country, W here he cam e from . B ut he saved him — A nd brought him thus into the w orst o f m isery. F or if you are the one he saved, K now that you have been bom to disaster. [E xeu n t S h ep h erd a n d M essenger I2J 1182-1212 O E D IPU S T H E T Y R A N T 93 O ED IPU S O h, O h, it ’ s clear, it ’ s all happened! O light, I look upon you for the last tim e — I w ho have been show n That I am bom from w hom I m ust not be, M arried w hom I m ust not m arry, A nd w hom I m ust not m urder, I have killed [Exit O XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHG edipus into the palace] F ifth C horal O de CH ORU S O generations, nations of m ortality H ow I do rate your lives at nothing: For w hat m an hath a fuller share of happiness Than the resem blance of it - and after sem blance, ruin? A nd having you for m ine exam ple, Y our fate, yours, w retched O edipus — I call no m ortal life a happy one. By prodigious skill, O edipus shooting his arrow becam e The thriving m aster of every joy; O Zeus, he destroyed The riddle-chanting m aiden w ith her tw isted claw s, A nd he did rouse him like a tow er ' A gainst the deaths she brought m y country; [fi/m mg tow ard the palace and speaking in the second person again] A nd from that tim e, Y ou have been called m y sovereign, A nd honoured in the highest things H ave you ruled in great Thebes. W hose lot is now m ore piteous to hear? W ho lives am ong m ore savage hardship In the throes of m isery, his life undone? O w orld-renow ned Lord O edipus, H ow one great bed contained you That upon it you should fall As father, son, and bridegroom ! A nd how did that place w here thy father sired thee, 1250 1260 1270 I i ! T H R E E T H E BA N PLA Y S 94 12X 3-1236 W retched one, suffer thee in silence for so long? T im e that sees all H as exposed you — in spite o f you — It passed sentence U pon your m arriage that is no m arriage, W herein the getter o f children I 2V H as so long been the child. O son o f Laius, H ow I do w ish I had never seen thee; F or I do m ourn for thee as though T he dirges of the funeral w ere pouring from m y Bps. T o say it plain: from thee I drew a new breath o f life once, T hat now m ust close m ine eyes again. E nter pag e fro n t the palace PAG E O you ever-honoured ones o f this great country, Y ou w ill hear o f such deeds A nd see such w orks — 129c B ut take the grief upon yourselves L ike true-born T hebans of L abdacus ’ house, F or I do not think T he D anube nor the river Phasis C ould w ash these houses to purity B ut only cover and conceal them ; A nd the hidden , grievous w orks Shall be exposed into the sun — D eliberate ones, not accidents. A nd those griefs hurt the m ost Ijoc W hich w e discover w e have brought upon ourselves. C H O RU S W hat w e w ere so afraid o f C annot but be heavy. B ut w hat do you say about those tw o? [indicating XWVUTSRQPON th e palace] PA G E T he soonest said and understood o f all w ords: D ivine Jocasta is dead. C H O RU S O poor, unhappy w om an! B y w hose hand , wvutsrq i I23 6 -I26 7 O E D IP U S T H E T Y R A N T 95 A nd how cam e her death? PAG E She slew herself. B ut the bitterest of these deeds Is lacking yet - for you w ere spared the sight of it. 1310 Still, so far as w hat m y m em ory holds, Y ou shall learn that w om an ’ s sufferings. For w hen, com pelled by rage, She cam e inside the vestibule She threw herself upon her bridal bed, B eating her ow n head w ith both hands; A nd she cam e inside slam m ing the great doors, A nd called upon the long-dead Laius, A nd the m em ory of w hen she had his seed, long ago; B y w hose hand he w as killed, 1320 L eaving the m other to conceive A ccursed children by the dead m an ’ s son. A nd she m ourned for all her love, w herein D oubly undon e, she had a husband by her husband, A nd children by her child. A nd how she died thereafter I know not. F or O edipus rushed in shouting T hat her grief w as not for us to stare at; A nd so w e stared at him pacing frantically, A nd he flew upon us crying for a sw ord 1330 D em anding o f us w here he m ight find H is w ife that w as no w ife, T he m other of him self and of his children. A nd then som e dem on show ed her to him , For of all o f us no m an w as near him then. B ut w ith a sudden scream , as if som eone w ere guiding him H e drove apart the double-doors, B reaking from their hollow pits the dead-bolt locks, A nd he fell into the bedroom . W herein w e saw his w ife hanging by the neck, 1340 E ntangled in the tw isted noose. A nd w hen he saw her, w ith a deep and m iserable roar H e untied the ropes, and w hen the poor queen lay upon the ground — W hat cam e next w as horrible to see; 96wvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJ T H R E E T H E B A N PLA Y S 1268-1297 F or he unpinned the golden brooches from her robe, T he ones she alw ays w ore, and lifting them up high H e struck dow n into his eyeballs, to the sockets, Scream ing at them : that they w ould not see T he sham es that he had suffered nor those he had perform ed, A nd henceforth w hat he never should have seen 1 35 Shall be in darkness, and w hat he longed for H e shall never know again. A nd chanting such things M any tim es, and not just once, he struck and hit his eyes. T he holes w ere red, and his face w as w et; N or did he bleed som e few drops, B ut like a dark rain, like hail, H e w ept his blood. O h, the old prosperity T hey joyed in for so long before this m om ent — It w as a just and proper happiness. B ut now , on this day, 136 M oaning, rage, death, sham e: Such are the nam es of all their w oes, A nd there is none they lack. C H O RU S A nd w hat relief has the poor m an now ? PAG E H e calls for one to open up the palace doors A nd show to all o f C adm us ’ folk T he patricide, w hose m other is destroyed, H e to w hom it is unclean even to speak, T hat from this land they m ust banish him , N o longer to rem ain here, a curse upon his house — ■3? Just as he once com m anded. B ut he lacks strength A nd needs som eone for a guide; F or the pain is unbearable. A nd he w ill show him self to you, F or he opens the locks o f the palace doors — A nd now behold a sight T hat you w ill hate . . . w ith sym pathy. XWVUTSRQPONMLK E n ter O e d i p u s , b lin d , led b y servants CHORUS O suffering, horrible for m ankind to behold - ( 1298-1326wvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONMLK O E D IPU S T H E T Y RA N T 97 O m ost horrible of all that I have ever know n — W hat m adness, sorry w retch, cam e over you? 1380 W hich G od is it, that from the farthest reaches Leaps dow n upon your m iserable portion? W oe, w oe, cursed one! B ut I cannot look upon you, E ager though I am , so m uch to ask of you, So m uch to learn from you, So m uch to see you — Y ou m ake m e trem ble so. O ED IPU S XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA A ia i . . . a ia i ... I am so sad; W here on earth am I brought in m y m isery? 1390 W here does this voice go, fluttering about m e? O m y dem on, w here have you gone? C HO RU S T o the dire place, that cannot be heard, A nd cannot be looked upon. O E D IPU S O m y cloud of darkness, From w hich I turn aw ay, Y our com ing-on is m erciless, unspeakable, A nd all-too-good for m e. O h m e! O h m e again! Such piercing stabs A nd such a stinging m em ory of evils 1400 C om e into m e all at once. C H O RU S A nd it is not strange T hat in such great anguish Y ou should doubly m ourn that double loss you bear. . O E D IPU S O Friend, Y ou are still m y true com panion, For you still attend m e in m y blindness. - Oh! For you don ’ t forget m e, A nd though I am in darkness Y et I clearly know your voice. 1410 1 98 T H R E E T H EB A N PL A Y S 1327-1356 C HO RU S O you w ho have done terrible things, H ow did you endure the breaking o f your eyes? W hich o f the G ods had set you on? O E D IPU S It w as A pollo! A pollo, O m y friends — T hat brought m y w icked sufferings to pass; B ut no one struck m y eyes B ut I m yself in desperation. B ut w hat need I see, T o w hom the sight o f nothing is a pleasure? 142c C H O RU S T hese things are all exactly as you say. O E D IPU S A nd w hat is there left for m e to see, O r to love, or to talk w ith, T hat it m ight still be sw eet to hear, O m y friends? G et m e out o f here, quickly. L ead m e aw ay, m y dear ones; I am the great pollution, T he m ost vile m an; 1430 I am still am ong all m ortals T he one the G ods despise the m ost. CH O RU S O , sad in circum stances as in spirit, H ow I w ish I never knew you! O E D IPU S M ay he die, w hoever he w as In the w ild nom ad pastures, W ho loosed m y feet and saved m e, R escued m e from m urder, D oing nothing w orthy o f m y thanks. F or had I died then, T here w ould not be so m uch agony F or m e n o r for the ones I love. CHORUS T hen I, too, w ish this w ere so. 1440 1357-1386wvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHG O E D IPU S T H E T Y R A N T 99 O E D IPU S I w ould not have com e to be m y father ’ s killer A nd be called by m en T he husband of the one w ho gave m e birth. B ut I am godless now , A nd an abom ination as a son, Sharing a w ife w ith the m an W ho begat m e to m y sham e. 1450 A nd if there is som e older evil D eeper than all crim es, O edipus is by his fortune such a one. CH ORU S I do not know if you have chosen w ell — For you w ould do better to be no m ore T han to live blind. O E D IPU S D o not lecture m e, that w hat I ’ ve done Is not the best course; advise m e no m ore. For even if I yet could see I do not know how I should look upon m y father A s I cam e into H ades, 1460 N or upon m y w retched m other, T o w hom I have done things m ore vile T han suicide could punish. A nd m y children — bom as they w ere, W as the sight o f them dear to m e? N ever to m y eyes, never again, N or this tow n, nor its tow ers, N or its sacred statues o f the G ods — . I, the m ost noble m an alone O f all the sons o f T hebes — utterly undone, I renounce them all; = I w ho com m anded everyone T o banish the unholy one, T he one the G ods declared unclean, A nd a relative o f L aius. A nd I, exposed w ith such a filthy stain as m ine, Is it for m e to look upon those things W ith lucid eyesight? N o t at all. 1470 '1 1 100 TH R EE TH EB A N PLA Y S B ut if there w ere a w ay To block' the flow of hearing through m ine ears I w ould avail m yself of that, A nd stop up all m y fram e, That I m ight be blind and never hear again; For it is sw eet to live in thought, A w ay from the noise and flashing. O C ithaeron, w hy did you protect m e? W hy did you not take m e and kill m e straight, So that I never show ed m yself to hum ankind N or w hence I cam e? O Polybus and C orinth, A nd the country I have so long called m y hom e, H ow beautiful I w as, as you raised m e, W ith such revolting sores corrupt beneath the skin! For now I find m yself a crim inal bom from crim es. O three roads, and the hidden clearing In the w ooded glen, A nd then the narrow passage to the triple crossroads; 4y father ’ s blood, that w as m ine ow n, ou roads drank at m y hands! o you rem em ber m e at all? /he things I did before you, A nd then w hat follow ed w hen I cam e here? O w eddings, m arriages, you m ake us; A nd having m ade us you raise up again T he sam e seeds — and you have exposed Fathers, brothers, children in a kinship of the blood, B rides and w ives and m others In the m ost sham eful actions ever undertaken B y any m ortal. B ut to speak is not the sam e A s never having done the ugly things; Therefore cover m e and hide m e som ew here Far aw ay, as fast as you can go, or m urder m e, O r secret m e away under the O cean W here you m ay never look on m e again. G o on, and deem a w retched m an W orthy to be handled — heed m e, D o not be afraid — for all m y evils C ould not be borne by any other m ortal than m yself. 1386-1415 I4S0 1490 1500 1510 iw O E D IPU S T H E T Y R A N T IOI 1416-1439wvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJ C H O RU S B ut your plea is tim ely now — C reon com es here, to act and to advise; 1520 For he is the only guardian of the country L eft after you. O ED IPU S O h m e, w hat w ord shall w e say to him ? W hat good claim can I m ake upon his trust? For before now I denounced him as all base. XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHG E n ter c r e o n , w ith O ed ip u s ’ daughters cr eon I have not com e as a m ocker, O edipus, N or to revile your old m istakes, [to the C horus] B ut if the things of m ortals do not m ove you, Fear yet L ord H elios, w hose flam e sustains us all, A nd do not tem pt H im w ith the sight of such contagion, T hat neither earth, nor light, nor the sacred rain 1530 Shall w illingly receive. B ut w ith all haste G et him inside the house. For only kin m ay hear and see w ith righteousness A kinsm an ’ s sham e. O ED IPU S B y the G ods, since you have sw ept aw ay m y expectations, A nd com e as a noble m an, to m e, the w orst o f m en, O bey m e a little — for I speak to your concern A nd not to m ine. CREO N A nd for w hat favour do you beg m e so? O E D IPU S B anish m e from this land, as soon as m ay be, "" T o som e place w here I never shall be seen O r spoken to by any m ortal person. C REO N I w ould already have done so — Y ou w ould have gone there w ell enough, If it w ere not that I m ust leam first from the G od W hat m ust be done. 1540 102 T H R E E T H E B A N PL A Y S 1440-1465 O E D IPU S B ut that G od ’ s m essage is entirely revealed: The patricide, the guilty one, m e, Y ou m ust destroy. 15S0 CRE O N That w as said, yes. B ut all the sam e, Seeing in w hat great need w e stand, It is better to find out w hat m ust be done. O E D IPU S A nd w ill you ask the oracle, O n behalf of one w retched m an? C RE O N Y es, for now even you M ight bring your trust to the G od ’ s w ord. O E DIPU S A ye, and now I lay this charge before you, A nd I urge you on: Raise up w hatever burial m ound you w ish or her w ho is inside; for your ow n kin ulfil her final rites. Ind m ay this m y father ’ s city never be condem ned T o harbour m e inhabitant w hile I live, B ut let m e dw ell in the m ountains W here m y C ithaeron is fam ous, T hat m y m other and m y father chose For m y appointed tom b — so that I m ay die T he w ay they w anted, those tw o w ho planned to kill m e; A nd yet this m uch I know — I w ill not die from sickness, O r any other cause of such a sort; For I w ould not have been saved thus far from death U nless it w ere for som e enorm ous sorrow . B ut let our fate com e on, w hatever it be. For m y m ale children, C reon, do not m ind them ; T hey are m en now , and they shall not starve W herever they m ay go, w hile their fives last. B ut m y poor, pitiable m aiden daughters W ho have never sat at the supper table W ithout m e there; w ho have shared in all 1560 1570 1580 1466-1497 O E D IPU S T H E T Y RA N T 103 I have ever touched — T ake care o f them for m e. B ut first — L et m e em brace them , and w eep our fill. C om e, m y L ord. C om e, highborn noblem an; If I could touch them w ith m y hands It w ould seem to m e as though I had them still, A s I did w hen I could see. W hat have I said? O r can it be that som ehow by the G ods 1590 I hear m y daughters w eeping, and C reon, O ut o f pity, sends m e m y darlings? H ave I spoken truly? CREO N Y ou have. For I arranged it, K now ing their presence w ould delight you A s it alw ays has. O E D IPU S A nd m ay you thrive — for this grace M ay the G od keep better w atch upon your fate T han H e has upon m ine. O children, w here are you? C om e here, com e Into thy brother ’ s hands, m y hands, W hose w ork has brought about that these, T hy father ’ s once-bright eyes, should see this w ay. O m y children, I becam e your father A ll unseeing, and unquestioning, W here I m yself w as fathered. A nd I w eep for you. B ut I have not the pow er to see you. I w eep w hen I think upon your bitter futures: W hat life you both m ust live out at m en ’ s hands: For to w hat public gatherings, w hat festivals shall ye go, From w hich you w ill not hom ew ard turn in tears A nd m iss the holiday? A nd w hen the tim e has com e W hen you are ripe for m arriage, W ho w ill be the m an? — w ho w ill run the risk, m y children, O f taking on this kind o f stigm a, that shall be T he burden o f m y children and of yours? W hat evil is lacking? Y our father Slaughtered his ow n father; he m ade love 1610 104 T H R E E T H E BA N PL A Y S I4 9 7 -I5 I9 T o her w ho bore him , even her out of w hose body he w as bom , A nd you w ere bom from the sam e place, T he sam e from w hich he had com e — Thus shall you be m ocked. A nd then w ho w ill m arry you? T here is no one, O m y children, and it is certain: B arren and unm arried you shall pine away to nothing. [to XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA C reon] C hild of M enoeceus, you are the only father T hey have left to them ; for w e w ho m ade them , W e are dead, the both of us. Therefore, do not look on w hile these your kinsw om en D rift about as beggars, w ithout husbands, N or reduce them to the level of m y crimes; B ut have pity on them , seeing how young they are, A nd w ithal how destitute, Except for w hat your care m ay tender. N oblem an, w ith your hand ’ s touch give m e your consent, nd to you, m y children, I w ould have given m uch advice, your spirits w ere grow n up enough, rt now pray for m e this prayer: hat the right m om ent m ay grant you a life to live, A nd you m ay com e into a better life than your father ’ s. 1620 1630 CRE O N Y ou have cried enough; com e inside the house. O E D IPU S I m ust obey, though it is not sw eet. C RE O N For all things are noble at their proper tim e. O E D IPU S Y ou understand the term s on w hich I take m y leave? C RE O N Y ou w ill tell m e again, and hearing them I w ill know . O E D IPU S See that you send m e out of the country, far from hom e. C RE O N T he gift you ask of m e is for the G ods to grant. O E D IPU S B ut I have becom e the one they hate the m ost. C RE O N T herefore your exile w ill speed w ell. 164.0 1520-1530 O E D IPU S T H E T Y R A N T 105 O E D IPU S T hen you agree to it? C R EO N I w ould not speak in vain w hat I did not intend. 1650 O ED IPU S T hen lead m e aw ay, now . CREO N L et go o f your children, and now w alk aw ay. O E D IPU S D on ’ t take them from m e! CREO N D o not dem and your w ill in everything, For even your achievem ents have not follow ed you through life. XWVUTSRQP [E xeu n t O edipus, C reon, P age CH ORU S Inhabitants o f T hebes our fatherland, behold T his O edipus that solved the fam ous riddle, T hat w as the m an of greatest pow er, U pon w hom there w as no citizen but stared In adm iring envy o f his great good fortune; See, into w hat deadly w aves of circum stance H e has com e. T herefore, fixing our gaze U pon life ’ s final day, w e shall call no- m ortal happy, U ntil he cross the threshold of this life, free from pain. OEDIPUS AT COLONUSwvutsrqponmlkjihgfedc T7ie Setting XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA C olonus, a place just over a m ile northw est of the A cropolis of A thens. In the background, the sacred grove of the Eum enides. A rock is just w ithin the boundary of the grove. The tim e is som e tw enty years after the closing events of O edipus the Tyrant. E nter O e d i p u s and A n t i g o n e O ED IPU S C hild of a blind old m an, A ntigone, To w hat fields have w e com e? O r to the city of w hich m en? W ho w ill receive the w andering O edipus W ith m eagre gifts this day? Those w ho beg for little, carry off still less; A nd this suffices m e. M y sufferings, A nd the long tim e I have lived w ith them , H ave taught m e to be satisfied: these, and third, M y ow n nobility. B ut com e child, stop If you see som e place to sit, on unclean ground O r on the ground of the Im m ortals ’ sacred grove, A nd sit m e dow n, that w e m ay leam O f w here w e are. For w e have com e As strangers to the tow n, and w e m ust do As w e are told. io A N T IG O N E Father, O edipus w ho bear m isfortune ’ s burden, The tow ers that protect the city stand far off yet From m y eyes; but this place here I do believe Is that holy garden, teem ing w ith the laurel A nd w ild olive and the vine; everyw here w ithin, C ountless feathered nightingales m ake sw eet m ouths, Singing. So bend your lim bs upon this uncarved stone, 20 io8 T H R E E T H E B A N PLA Y S 20-40 For you have w alked a long road, for an old m an. O E D IPU S Sit m e dow n then, and guard the blind m an. A N T IG O N E If tim e and practice teach that, I have learned it. O E D IPU S C an you teach m e w here w e are? A N T IG O N E A thens I know , but not this spot. O E D IPU S So m uch, every pilgrim told us. A N T IG O N E B ut this place here, shall I go off and learn of it? O ED IPU S Y es, child; find w hether people live here. 30 l N TIG O NE B ut they surely do: no w ork is needed now , I think, For I see a m an nearby, approaching us. SDIPU S Is he near here yet? H as he set out tow ards us? XWVUTSRQPONM E nter s t r a n g e r A N T IG O N E H e is already com e, and now the tim e is right T o speak w hat you w ill, for the m an is here. O E D IPU S O stranger, from her w ho w atches over m e I have heard that you have com e, a guide propitious To tell us w hat w e do not know — STRA N G ER B efore you ask the rest of it, com e out O f this grove: for on the ground you now hold, N one m ay w alk. O E D IPU S W hat ground is this? T o w hich G od is it holy? ST R A N G E R It is untouched, and none m ay live here: For the fearsom e G oddesses hold it, M aidens of the Earth and of the D arkness. 40 41-65 O ED IPU S A T C O LO N U S 109 i O E D IPU S H earing w hat sacred nam e m ight I invoke them ? STRA NG ER T he A ll-Seeing E um enides, our people call them . B ut elsew here T hey bear other m ighty nam es. O E D IPU S T hen m ay T hey w elcom e m e graciously: For I m ust not leave m y seat upon this spot of earth. 50 STRA NG ER W hy is this? O ED IPUS T he old oracle put m e here. STRA N G ER N or have I the heart to drive you out, U ntil I tell the city w hat I do. O ED IPU S O by the G ods, m y stranger, do m e no dishonour: I am such a beggar, and I turn to you in supplication Saying so. STRA N G ER D em onstrate it, and fear no dishonour from m e. O ED IPU S T his country, w herein w e have w alked, W hat is it called? 60 STRA N G ER L isten, and you w ill know all that I know . A ll o f this place is holy. It is held by great Poseidon, A nd the fire-bearing T itan, Prom etheus, is w ithin it. T he spot on w hich you stand is called the brazen threshold, 52 1 W hich guards A thens. A nd all the households o f the place Pray to him , the m ounted horsem an C olonus T heir founder, w hose nam e they bear in com m on. N ot w ith w ords, O stranger, do w e honour Such places as these are, but by our life am ong them . O ED IPU S T hen people dw ell here, in this very place? STRA N G ER Y es, the pow er o f the hero w hose great nam e it bears. 70 IIO T H R E E T H E BA N PL A Y S 66-85 O E D IPU S D oes som eone rule them , or does discourse and debate Fall to the people? STR AN G E R T hese are ruled by the king of the tow n. O E D IPU S W ho is this m an, w ho rules by w ords and strength? STR AN G E R T heseus he is called, the son o f A egeus before him . O E D IPU S M ight one be sent from your num ber, to go to him ? STR A N G ER T o speak w ith him , and sum m on him , for w hat? O E D IPU S C onferring sm all favours, he m ay w in great profit. STRA N G ER W hat profit from a blind m an? 80 O ED IPU S W hat w e say, w e shall unfold w ith insight. St r a n g e r D o you know then, stranger, H ow you m ight do w ell? If indeed Y ou are noble, as you seem to be — Stay here, w here I found you U ntil I speak o f this w ith m en W ho dw ell here, not the m en in tow n. F or they w ill judge concerning you, W hether you m ust here rem ain O r m ust go back again. 90 [frxiZ XWVUTS Stranger O E D IPU S H as the stranger left us, child? A N T IG O N E H e has, so that in silence, father, Y ou m ay speak all your m ind, A nd I alone am near. O E D IPU S O V irgin W om en, faces m arvellous^ Since in this land I now have sat m e dow n 8 6-1 I 6 O E D IP U S A T C O L O N U S III First upon a seat w hich is Y our ow n, T o Phoebus and m yself do not becom e unkind; H e w ho, w hen he w as proclaim ing all those m any evils, Told m e of this, as of a respite after a long tim e: 100 W hen I com e into m y final country, I m ight find A seat of the m ajestic G ods, Their stopping-place for strangers, A nd turn the final length of life ’s long-suffering race, M y dw elling there a benefit to those w ho w ill receive m e, A ruin to m y senders, w ho have driven m e aw ay. A nd H e prom ised it, that signs of these events should com e to m e, A n earthquake, or som e thunder stroke, O r else the lightning bolt of Zeus. N ow I know that from your M ajesties Som e faithful om en surely led m e off the road no Into this grove. For otherw ise I w ould not have m et Y ou first — I, a sober traveller, and Y ou w ho take no w ine 53 — N or sat m e dow n upon this uncarved, sacred chair. B ut grant m e, O Y e G oddesses, the passage of m y life, Som e closing of its course, A ccording w ith A pollo ’ s w ord — U nless I seem to Y ou too slight for this, I w ho m ust rem ain the slave of sorrow s H eaped the highest am ong m ortal things. H ear, O Sw eet 120 O nes, children of the ancient D arkness, H ear, thou city of the m ightiest A thene, That all m en call m ost honoured A thens, Take pity on this shadow of the w retched m an, This O edipus; for this is not the m an he w as before. A N TIG O N E Q uiet. Som e aged m en are com e, Inspectors of your holy resting place. XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDC E nter the c h o r u s O ED IPU S I shall be silent, and you lead m e from the road A nd hide m e in the grove, until I learn of them W hat w ords they speak. For in that learning Lies the caution 130 of our labour. 112 T H R E E T H E B A N PLA Y S II7 — I5I XW F irst C horal O de C H O RU S L ook: W ho w as he? W here has he put him self ? T he m ost insatiable o f all, w here has he fled? Search for him , seeking him everyw here! T he old m an is som e w anderer, A nd not o f our ow n country, O r he never w ould have entered T he untrodden orchard of those G irls divine, invincible, W hom w e trem ble nam ing A s w e pass it w ith averted eyes, 140 N ot speaking, as w e m ove the m outh O f voiceless, thoughtful prayer. B ut it is rum oured now , T hat one has com e w ho has no reverence for T hem ; A s I search throughou t the sacred precinct I cannot discern w here he is hidden. zED IPU S I am the very m an. For I see b y voices, as they say. C H O RU S O h, O h! T errible to see, and terrible to hear! 150 O E D IPU S I approach you as a suppliant; D o not regard m e as a crim inal. CH O RU S Z eus P rotector! W ho ever is this old m an? O E D IPU S N o t a m an o f the best good fortune, T hat any m ight congratulate m e, E lders o f this land. A nd I do show it. E lse I w ould not travel w ith another ’ s eyes, N o r tether m y greatness to this little one. [in d ica tin g th e ch ild A n tig o n e] CHORUS A h! W ere you b o m blind then? 160 Iwvutsrqpo 151-179 O E D IPU S A T C O L O N U S 113 A s it seem s, your life has been B oth long and m ost unhappy. B ut for m y part, you shall not bring these curses on: [as XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA O edipus backs aw ay, into the forbidden grove] Y ou go too far, too far! Luckless foreigner, Lest you deeper stum ble, in the verdant, Sacred grove w here none m ay speak, W here the pouring w ater-bow l M eets w ith honeyed stream s of sw eet libation, Stand aside! Step out from it! [to them selves, despairing w hether he has heard them ] A great trail separates him from us. D o you hear m e, long-suffering pilgrim ? W ill you bring us out som e issue to discuss? Step out from the untrodden place T o w here custom suffers everyone to speak. B ut first, keep silent! 170 O ED IPU S O daughter, w here in thought am I to go? 54 A N TIG O N E Father, w e m ust take care to do Just as the tow nsfolk do, A nd w e m ust w illingly obey such custom s. 180 O ED IPU S Touch m e now . A N T IG O N E Indeed I am . O ED IPU S O strangers, do m e no injustice W ho am trusting you, A nd parting from m y safety. C HO RU S U nless you quit these holy seats, old m an, Som eone w ill lead you out unw illing. O e d ip u s [m oving out] Is this enough? CH ORU S Step further forward. 1 114 T H R EE T H E B A N PLA Y S 1 80-201 O E D IPU S Further? 190 C H O RU S Y ou w om an, lead him forw ard, Since you understand. XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDC [at th is p o in t three lines have been M s/] A N T IG O N E Follow then, follow this w ay w ith your lim bs o f darkness W here I lead you. [another lost line] C H O RU S B ear it, O unhappy one, Stranger in a foreign country, T o hate w hat the city does not love, A nd reverence w hat it loves. O EDIPU S N ow lead m e, child, That w alking out in proper piety 200 w e m ay hold discourse and listen ^est w e fight against w hat m ust be. H ORU S Incline your step no further From that ledge o f natural rock. O E D IPU S T hus far? CHORUS E nough , I tell you. O E D IPU S Shall I sit dow n? CH O RU S Y es, bending dow n and to the side, U pon the surface o f the stone. A N T IG O N E F ather, this is m y charge. 55 O ED IPU S O h m e, oh! A N T IG O N E Join your quiet step to m ine, L eaning your old body into m y friendly arm s. 210 202 — 221 o e d ipu s O E D IPU S A T C O L O N U S 115 XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA [going lim p] O h, m y ruinous heartache. cho r u s O sorry m an, since you are at your ease now , T ell, w hat m an w ere you bom , am ong m ortals, A nd as w hat labour-ridden w ight are you led. A nd m ay I learn from w hat fatherland you com e? O E D IPU S O host, I have no country. B ut do not — cho r u s W hat answ er is this you m ake, old m an? 220 O E D IPU S D o not, do not, do not ask w ho I am , Forbear and press no further in your seeking. CH ORU S W hat ’ s this? O E D IPU S A dreadful origin. CH ORU S T ell it. O ED IPU S O m y child, w hat am I to say? C H O RU S W hose seed are you, stranger, T ell us — and o f w hat father? O ED IPU S O m e, w hat shall I suffer, m y child? A N TIG O N E Speak, since indeed you step near the edge. O ED IPU S I w ill speak: for I cannot hide it. C H O RU S Y ou delay a long tim e — com e to it. O ED IPU S D o you know o f a certain Laius? C HO RU S Oh! Oh! O ED IPU S A nd o f the race o f L abdacus? 230 n6wvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPO T H R EE T H E B A N PLA Y S 221-246 C H O RU S O Z eus! O E D IPU S A nd piteous O edipus? C H O RU S A re you he, then? O E D IPU S T ake no fear from anything I say. C H O RU S O h! O h! 240 O E D IPU S M iserable one! C H O RU S O h! O h! O ED IPU S D aughter, w hat shall w e hit upon now ? C H O RU S O ut! G et you hence and quit the country. ) ED IPU S A nd w hat you prom ised? H ow w ill you fulfil it? CH ORU S N o one need pay fortune ’ s debt F or doing w hat w as done to him before. Lies are traded for deceptions, So that he gains not gratitude but painful labour. B ut you, back from these ancient seats, 250 M ove off, from out m y country now A vaunt, lest you hang heavy needful business O n m y city. 56 A N T IG O N E O reverent-hearted strangers and hosts, T hough you cannot abide m y aged father, H earing o f his unw illed deeds, Y et heed m e, for w e supplicate you, O H osts and strangers; take pity on us. O n behalf o f m y father alone I beseech you; I beseech you, not blind in these eyes W herew ith I gaze into your ow n; B ut as XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA if I cam e to you, a person o f your ow n blood, 260 247-284 O ED IPU S A T C O LO N U S 117 C hoose for decency! W e are in your pow er; As upon the G ods do w e w retchedly depend upon you. B ut com e, incline towards unexpected grace. I ask you by w hatever is dear to you of your ow n, Either child, or bed, or debt, or G od. For you cannot find that m ortal for the looking, W ho can escape, if G od should lead him on. CHORUS B ut know , child of O edipus, W e pity you equally for your circum stance. Trem bling before the G od, I lack the heart To speak, beyond w hat I have said ere now . 270 O ED IPU S W hat good com es of it, to have acclaim A nd reputation spread abroad in vain, Since the A thenians, said to be the m ost religious people, Possess the greatest pow er to protect and save A suffering stranger, but w hat is this to m e? Since you expelled m e from m y seat, A nd now you drive m e out, afraid at m y m ere nam e? Surely you do not fear m y body, nor m y actions. For m y deeds w ere things I suffered, m ore than things I did If I m ust speak to you of m y m other and father, O n w hose account you fear m e — I know this w ell. For how w as I w icked, in m y nature, w ho suffered A nd retaliated? So that had I acted know ingly, Even then I still should not be w icked. N or did I know ingly go w here I w ent, W hile they know ingly sought to destroy m e, A t w hose hands I suffered. A nd thus, O strangers, I now 290 approach you by the G ods: Since you m ade m e stand apart, protect m e. A nd since you honour the G ods, D o not slight T heir portion. C onsider that They see The pious am ong m ankind, and the im pious They see, A nd no escape has ever com e, for an unholy m ortal. W ith the G ods ’ help, you m ight avoid concealing w ith a stain The happiness of A thens, in unholy w orks; B ut since you have taken m e in m y supplication, al n8 T H R EE T H E B A N PLA Y S 285-309 T raded for your pledge, protect and guard m e! Joo N or dishonour m e seeing m y horrible face. F or I com e a pious and a holy m an B earing blessing for this tow n; and w hen the m aster com es, W hoever is your leader, then w ill he hear it A nd know all. B ut until then let no evil com e. CH O RU S A ged sir, your m ighty argum ents are m any A nd com pelling, their w ords expressed N ot lightly. B ut the lord o f this our land Suffices us to reckon these affairs.57 O E D IPU S A nd w here is the com m ander o f this ground, 3io O X enoi? 58 CH ORU S In the city o f his father in this country. A nd that scout W ho sent m e here, has gone to bring him . O E DIPU S Is he likely to consider m e, and take thought For a blind m an, and com e near m e? CHORUS H is M ajesty w ill com e, W hen he leam s your nam e. O E D IPU S A nd w ho is the m essenger T o give him w ord o f m e? CH O RU S T he road is long. B ut m yriad w ords L ove to w ander up the w ay; take h eart, . H e w ill be here soon. F or your nam e, O elder, everyw here about Is scattered far. E ven if he rests now A t his leisure, w hen he hears o f you H e w ill com e quickly. O ED IPU S M ay he com e w ith good fortune F or his ow n city and for m e. W hat noble m an is n o t a friend to him self? 59 320 3 10 -3 29 O E D IPU S A T C O L O N U S 119 A N T IGO N E O Zeus, w hat shall I say? W here in thought am I to go, m y father? 33° O E D IPU S W hat is it, daughter A ntigone? A N TIG O N E I see a w om an hurrying toward us M ounted on a young Sicilian horse A nd on her head a w ide hat breaks the sun. W hat shall I say? Is it she, or is it not? D oes m y m ind m islead m e? 1 affirm and deny A nd know not w hat I should say; w retched! It is no other! A t least She greets m e brightly w ith her eyes.60 She signals that she is alone; it is she, Clearly, Ism ene. 340 O ED IPU S W hat say you, child? A N TIG O N E I see your daughter, and m y sister. Soon w e w ill be able to listen and learn. XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFED E nter i s m e n e ISM EN E O father and m y sister, sw eetest to speak w ith, I hardly found you; and now for m y tears I can hardly see you. * O ED IPU S O h, have you com e, child? ISM EN E To see you, O m y poor-fated father! O ED IPU S C hild, have you appeared? ISM ENE N ot w ithout som e hardship of m y ow n. O ED IPU S Touch m e, m y child. ISM ENE I grasp onto you both. 3S0 120 T H R EE T H EB A N PLA YS 330-351 O E D IPU S O com m on seed o f blood . . . ISMENE O sorry nourishm ent o f m isery . . . O E D IPU S H er life and m ine? ISM E N E I shall be third in m y ow n destitution. O E D IPU S C hild, w hy have you com e? ISM E N E T aking thought for you, m y Father. 360 O E D IPU S Y ou longed for m e, m issing m e? O r som ething else? ISM EN E Y es, and by m yself to m ake announ cem ent to you, W ith m y only faithful servant. OEDIPUS W here are your brothers, w ho are young and for w ork? ISM ENE T hey are w herever they are; this is their terrible m om ent. O E D IPU S O h, how m y sons m ake o f their life and nature A ll a perfect likeness o f the w ays o f E gypt; F or there, m en sit beneath the roof and w ork the loom , W friile their partner w om en offer them alw ays 370 T he sustenance they w in outside the hom e. B ut in your ow n case, O m y children, T hose w ho should have ow ned these labours K eep at hom e like virgin girls, w hile in their stead Y ou toil through the evils o f your father ’ s w oes. XWVUTSRQPO [to A n tig o n e] F or from the tim e w hen first you put off infant ’ s food, A nd w ere invested w ith a w om an ’ s fram e and pow er, Y ou alw ays shared a bitter portion o f our w anderings L eading your old m an through m any a w ooded field B ereft o f grain, and barefoot; som etim es in teem ing rains A nd grievous heat o f sunshine, braving exhaustion, 380 3 5 1 -3 8 4 • O E D IPU S A T C O L O N U S Y ou held your ow n dom estic com fort in contem pt, Second to your father ’ s nourishm ent at need. [to XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA Ism ene] A nd you, child, w ho long ago carried All those oracles, hidden from the Thebans, T o your father, all the prophecies that touched m e As a faithful, trusted guard w hen I w as driven - From m y country. A nd now you com e again, Ism ene, B earing a m essage to your father? W hat errand is it Calls you out from hom e? I w ell know you have not com e W ith em pty hands, but you bring som e terror for m e. 121 390 ISM E N E ' I w ill let rest those sufferings I bore, In search of your living and your w hereabouts, Lest I be doubly pained, labouring and telling of it. A bout those evils w hich now befall Y our pair of dism al-fortuned sons — A bout these I have com e to tell you. A t first, it w as their desire that the throne Be left to C reon, in deliberation Looking to the past of m urder In our fam ily, lest it touch our city, H aving clung onto our house of pain. B ut now , sinning in their hearts against the G ods, They both have entered on a bitter strife, threefold: T o seize the rule and pow er of the tyranny. The younger, being bom but a little tim e behind him , H ath robbed this elder Polyneices O f his natural throne, and from his country D riven him . T o A rgos valley he w alked in exile, A nd found new friends, allies w ho w ould bear his shield Through alliance by new m arriage, believing That A rgos should hold Thebes in reverence A nd exalt its nam e to heaven. These things are no handful of w ords, O m y father, but terrible deeds. A nd I cannot learn precisely w here the G ods Shall have pity on your labours. 410 122 TH REE TH EBA N PLA Y S 385-4O I O E DIPU S T hen you hope already that G ods M ight som ehow notice m e, and save m e? ISM EN E Y es, for I now convey to you these oracles, M y father. 420 O E D IPU S W hat sort o f oracles are these, m y child? W hat has been divined? ISM EN E It shall be sought for by these m en, T hat am ong them you should dw ell, B efore your death and after, For their benefit in their m idst. O E DIPU S H ow m ight they benefit from such a thing? ISM EN E T hose oracles declare, that the pow er o f those m en H as com e into your ow n hands. 430 O E D IPU S B ut I am no longer the m an I once w as. ISM EN E N o. T he G ods have corrected you, having destroyed you. O E D IPU S H ow light a thing it is, to chasten an old m an W ho fell dow n young. ISM E N E A nd yet, understand m e: not at length but in a m om ent C reon w ill arrive here at your side for this. O ED IPU S W hat ever do they w ant m e for, m y daughter? Interpret this for m e! ISM E N E In order that you m ay stand nearby the T heban ground, A nd the virtue 61 o XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFED f your presence m ake them strong: 440 B ut that you keep from entering their border. O E D IPU S W hat help could I be, from beyond their gates? 402 — 419 O E D IP U S A T C O L O N U S 123 ISM ENE Y our heavy tom b w ill bear ill fortune for them If they neglect the rites they ow e it. O ED IPU S Som eone m ight suppose this m uch, even w ithout the G od. ISM EN E For the sake of this service, they are w illing T o m ake you an ally, near to the country, Lest you dw ell som ew here under your ow n pow er. O E D IPU S A nd w ill they cover m e in T heban ashes for m y burial? ISM EN E T hey w ould disallow you that, for your blood-guilt, O m y father. 450 O E D IPU S T hen they shall never have pow er over m e. ISM EN E In the future, C adm eans w ill feel the w eight of this. 'XWVUTSRQ O ED IPUS In w hat sort of circum stance, child? H ow evident? ISM ENE T hrough your anger, w hen they stand before your tom b. O ED IPU S W ho told you this, w hich you now repeat? ISM EN E From m en w ho w itnessed at the D elphic shrine. 62 O ED IPU S A nd P hoebus spoke o f m e, and touched on these things? ISM EN E So they said, w ho cam e through the plain o f T hebes. 460 O ED IPUS H as either o f m y sons heard this m uch? ISM EN E T hey both have heard alike, and understand it w ell. O ED IPU S A nd then, the w orst o f m en had heard o f this already, A nd they yearned m ore for the tyranny than for m e? •- 124 T H R EE T H EB A N PLA Y S 420-448 ISM E N E I suffer hearing so, but I m ust bear it. O E D IPU S M ay the G ods not provide T he quenching o f this strife, B ut let it com e dow n to m y judgm ent, T he fight betw een the tw o o f them W herein they now take up the spear: 470 T hat neither him w ho now controls T he sceptre and the throne should keep them , N or should the exiled one be taken back, T hough he dearly w ish it. For they, T hough begot by m e, thus dishonored m e, W hen I w as driven from m y fatherland, W ho neither harboured m e nor intervened, B ut I w as m ade to stand aside, announced A n exile. Y ou m ight retort T hat exile w as m y w ish, in those days, 480 A gift the city properly granted m e. N o indeed: at that tim e, just after M y undoing, in m y seething anger Sw eetest to m e w as to die, by stoning. N o one appeared, to help m e in that w ish. B ut in tim e, all m y hardship ripened A nd m ade m ild, I learned how m y heart H ad run beyond all boundaries, ignorant; T oo harsh a judge o f m y ow n past M istakes. B ut at that tim e, by force the city 490 D rove m e from the land, and m y sons, T hough they had pow er to help their father, W ere w illing to do nothing, and for lack O f som e few w ords in m y defence, I w as driven out, to beg in exile forever. B ut from these tw o girls, yet young virgins, I derive m y nourishm ent and life, So m uch as nature gives it them . A bit o f ground w ith no fear, the shelter o f kinship. B ut the brothers, in their nature opposite, H ave exchanged m e for a throne, 50a 449-474 O E D IPU S A T C O L O N U S 125 T o w in the sceptre and their country ’ s tyranny. B ut they w ill not gain this ally, nor ever A ny blessing of their rule at T hebes. I know it, w hen I bring to m ind the oracles T his girl has heard, and those fulfilled B y A pollo from the past, reposed in m e. So let them send C reon to bring m e, A nd w hoever else has pow er in the city. A nd if, m y hosts, you should be w illing 510 T o support m e, strengthened by those G oddesses, D ivine protectors of the people: then Y ou w ill raise up for this city a great saviour, A nd for m y enem ies a painful labour. C H O RU S Y ou and these tw o girl children of yours A re w orthy o f pity, O edipus: and since Y ou offer yourself as saviour in this speech, I w ish to offer you advice A bout our circum stances. O E D IPU S O dearest ones, be the patrons of a stranger, Sure that presently I shall fulfil it all. 520 CH ORU S N ow put on such cleansing as you ow e T o those divinities w hom first you cam e upon. Y ou have been treading on their ground. O ED IPU S B y w hat m anner? 63 T each m e, hosts and strangers. CH ORU S First take libations sacred from that ever-flow ing stream , A nd bring them , touching w ater w ith your cleansed hands. O E D IPU S A nd w hen I have this pure stream ’ s w ater? CH ORU S T here are krater-bow ls, w orks o f skilled m en; Y ou m ust crow n them w ith w reaths o f w ool U pon the handles run around their m ouths. O E D IPU S T w ined w ith young branches? O r how braided? 530 126 T H R EE T H E B A N PLA Y S 475-495 C H O RU S T ake the new -shorn fleece o f a young ew e. O E D IPU S V ery w ell. A nd after that, how do I end the rite? C H O RU S Stand eastw ard, tow ard the source o f daw n A nd pour libations. O E D IPU S P our libations w ith these vessels? T he ones you spoke of? C H O RU S Y es, a threefold pouring. P our the last bow l em pty. O E D IPU S W hen I have placed the bow l, w ith w hat shall I fill it? T each m e that, too. 540 C H O RU S W ith honey and w ith w ater: use no w ine. O ED IPUS A nd w hen the shaded ground has taken these? CH ORU S Lay thereon three tim es nine saplings o f the olive W ith each hand, w hile you unfold the prayers. O E DIPU S I w ant to hear these prayers. T hey are the m ost im portant. CHORUS XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA Y o u w h o m w e call E u m en id es, K in d -h ea rted O n es, W ith kin d hearts receive m y supplication to be saved. Y ou m ust pray thus, or thus m ust som e other pray for you; Q uiet your voice so that you are not heard, and shout not. T hen step back again, and do not turn about. T ake courage and do these things: then I shall stand by you. B ut if you do aught otherw ise, then I should fear for you terribly, stranger. O E D IPU S D aughters, have you heard these m en, w ho dw ell nearby? A N T IG O N E W e heard. A nd he w ho does these things M ust do w hatever is com m anded in them . O E D IPU S T his is im possible for m e; let m e be left behind, 550 49^-519 O E D IP U S A T C O L O N U S 127 For I lack strength, and I cannot see: a pair o f faults. O ne of you tw o, go and perform all this. For I believe that in these rites, one soul W ill be sufficient, capable to pay T he debt ow ed by a m yriad, if she goes 560 M indfully to the shrine. D o it, m y daughters, Set to it quickly, but do not leave m e behind A lone. For m y body is not strong enough T o follow after, and I have no second guide. ISM EN E 64 I m yself shall bring this to pass. B ut I m ust find the place, and w ant to leam it. CH ORU S It lies beyond the grove, guest. A resident is there. If you lack for anything; he w ill direct you. ISM ENE I shall go off and do this. A ntigone, 570 XWVUTSR G uard our father here. F or to the children, If som e labour falls, they m ust not count it labour. Second C horal O d e C HO RU S Fearsom e are the evils long since laid dow n, O stranger, and their aw akening to m em ory. A nd yet I yearn to ask you. O E D IPU S W hat is it? = CH ORU S I w ould learn o f that suffering you endured W hich proved to have no cure. O E DIPU S It is not proper to your hospitality, T o broach those sham eless sufferings of m ine. C HO RU S Y our story is rum oured far, and the telling W ill go on. I need to hear it straight. O ED IPU S O itn o i. 65 580 TH R EE TH EB A N PLA YS 128 51^-536 C H O RU S C onsent, I pray you. O E D IPU S XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA P hen, P hen. 66 C H O RU S B e persuaded. Even as I w as of use to you. O E D IPU S Indeed, then, strangers, I bore the m ost evil thing, A nd G od know s I bore it unw illing; N ot at all self-chosen that w ay. CHORUS B ut how so? 590 O E D IPU S Through evils of the bed, the city bound m e — A ll unknow ing, in a m arriage of ruin. C H O RU S W as it as I hear, that from your m other Y ou cam e to fill her bed, and earned a bitter nam e? O E D IPU S O h m e, it is like death to hear these w ords, O strangers! B ut those tw o girls, w ho cam e from m e — .H O R U S W hat say you? O E D IPU S C hildren, and tw o dow nfalls! CH O RU S O Zeus! O E D IPU S I w as bom from the pangs of the sam e m other. CHORUS A nd yours are descended from you, and from . . . O E D IPU S Y es, I am their brother, w ith a m other in com m on. C H O RU S O h! O E D IPU S O h, indeed! M yriad, teem ing, returning evils! 600 537-548 O E D IPU S A T C O L O N U S 129 C HO RU S Y ou have suffered. O E D IPU S I have suffered unbearably. CH ORU S Y ou com m itted acts. O ED IPU S Y et I did nothing! C HO RU S H ow then — O E DIPU S I accepted the gift, that I w ish I never had T aken from the city 610 in return for m y service. C H O RU S M iserable m an! W hat else then? W ere you accustom ed to bloodshed? O ED IPU S Y ou really w ant to leam it? C H O RU S Y our father? O E D IPU S A h, you have dealt m e one m ore blow , D isease upon disease! cho r u s Y ou killed. O E D IPU S I killed. B ut to m e — C H O RU S W hat ’ s this? O E D IPU S T he deed has justice in it. CHORUS H ow so? O E D IPU S I w ill explain it. E ven if I did, T hose w hom I killed w ould otherw ise H ave destroyed m e. A nd I am pure in law : I entered that fight in total ignorance. 620 130 T H R E E T H E B A N PL A Y S 549-578 XW E nter t h e s e u s CHORUS H ere now our K ing, Theseus, A egeus ’ seed, A t your call, to perform his needful office. TH ESEU S I have recognised you, having often heard ere now O f that m urderous destruction of your eyes; 630 O f your com ing now , child of Laius, I heard rum ours in the road, A nd now I know it better still. Y ou show us B y your dress and sorry face of scars T hat you are he; and in pity for thee I w ould ask, ill-fortuned O edipus, W hat it is for w hich you do present yourself T o m e and to our city, you and your unfortunate C om panion. Teach m e. It w ould be som e prodigious tale O f deeds, that you could tell: such as I shrink from . 640 For I know that just as I m yself w as by a foreigner Raised in exile like your.ow n, so you, m ore than any other m an, C om e from foreign places. I have contended at great risk To m y person, so that there is no stranger such as you are now W hom I w ould turn aw ay, if I m ight bring salvation. For I w ell know , that being but a m an, m y portion In the future is no greater than your ow n. O E D IPU S Theseus, your nobility has spared m e, So that I need only speak in brief For a m om ent. For you have rightly nam ed W ho I am , and of w hat father sprung, A nd w hat country I cam e from ; T here is little needful left for m e to say B efore our talk is done. T H E SE U S Teach m e this now , so that I learn it all. 1 ■ O ED IPU S I have com e to give you the gift O f m y suffering body: m eagre to look upon, O h but the profit of it far excels a lovely shape. 65a 579-594 O E D IPU S A T C O L O N U S I3 i XWVUTSRQ TH ESEU S W hat kind of profits do you prize thus A nd claim to com e bringing? 660 O E D IPU S Y ou shall learn that in tim e, Though not quite yet. TH ESEU S W hen w ill your gift be show n? O E D IPU S W hen I have died, and you have given m e burial. TH ESEU S Y ou ask for w hat com es last in life, N eglecting all between, as of no w orth. O E D IPU S Y es, for all betw een is gathered up in this. 67 TH ESEU S Y ou ask this grace in but a few brief w ords. O E D IPU S Y et look to it: m y struggle is no sm all one. TH ESEU S D o you m ean the struggle of your sons, O r som e other, that concerns m e? 670 O E D IPU S They need m e, m y K ing, A nd they w ould bring m e there. TH ESEU S If they w ish to bring you and you w ish to go, T hen exile is not right for you. O E D IPU S They did not consider m y w ishes, N or allow m e them . TH ESEU S B ut anger am id evils, foolish m an, is useless. O ED IPU S W arn m e w hen you have heard m y story; For now , allow m e. TH ESEU S Teach m e. For w ithout your view I should not speak. 680 132 TH R EE TH EB A N PLA Y S 595-618 O E D IPU S Theseus, I have suffered terribly: Evils upon evils. T H E SEU S Y ou speak of the old days of your family? O E D IPU S N ot at all: that m atter, every G reek H as shouted of aloud. T H E SE U S W hat m isery is this, that lies beyond A ll hum an grief? 68 O ED IPU S It is thus w ith m e: from m y hom eland I w as driven out, by m y ow n children. A nd it is not m ine ever to return, For this: I have killed m y father, long ago. 690 ZH ESEUS H ow then w ill they send for you, so that you dw ell apart? O E D IPU S The m outh of the G od has com pelled them . THESEUS W hat sort of terrible suffering threatens In this dread com pulsion? O E D IPU S T hat they m ust be struck dow n upon this ground. 6 ’ T H E SE U S H ow w ould bitter enm ity arise, betw een m y city A nd those m en? 700 O E D IPU S O dear child of A egeus, only to the G ods D o death and aging never com e; but all things else C onsum ing tim e destroys. It w ithers the pow er of the earth; It w ithers the body; and w hereas it kills faith, It brings the lack of faith to bloom , and the spirit Is never the sam e that obtains betw een dear friends, O r city and city. For som e already, and others in the future, T he sw eet joys turn to bitterness, then back again to love. A s for Thebes, even if she pass this day in peace w ith you, A nd a m yriad of m yriad days and nights be bom , 710 O E D IPU S A T C O L O N U S 619-644wvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGF 133 In w hich the present circum stances are resolved Into a pledge of friendship, she w ill, U pon som e petty cause of w ords, Scatter her pledge into the w ind: So that m y sw eetly sleeping, hidden corpse W ill drink their hot blood, If Z eus is Z eus still, and H is son A pollo, w ise. A nd though it be not sw eet to hear these w ords, T hat should be still, allow m e to leave off W here I began: and you on your part, 720 O nly keep faith w ith m e, and you shall never say Y ou w elcom ed O edipus to this place and did not benefit: U nless the G ods are lying to m e. C H O RU S Sovereign, even now this m an declared him self R eady to perform these sam e things and their like U pon our ground. TH ESEU S W ho indeed w ould reject the grace o f such a m an, W ho from the first has been a spear-friend, W hen our com m on cause has alw ays been the grace O f hospitality? A nd since this godly suppliant 730 First arrived upon our grounds, he has given m e N o trivial portion of honour. F or w hich, B eing pious, I shall expel him never, B ut establish him , a dw eller in our country A nd a citizen. A nd if it should be sw eet to our guest T o rem ain here, I charge you w ith guarding him . B ut if you prefer to w alk w ith m e, O edipus, 1 grant the choice to your ow n discretion. F or in this m atter, I w ill take your part. 70 O E DIPU S O Z eus! B e good to such a m an as this! TH ESEU S W hat do you need? W ill you com e w ith m e T o m y hom e? O E DIPU S I w ould if it w ere proper. B ut this is the place — 740 i 134 T H R E E T H E B A N PL A Y S 645-658 TH ESEU S W here you do . . . w hat? I shall not oppose you. O E D IPU S W here I shall overpow er them , w ho have expelled m e. TH ESEU S T his w ould be the grand benefit you spoke of, From your dw elling on this spot. O E D IPU S A nd it shall be, if you w ill keep your w ord Y ou gave m e. TH ESEU S T ake heart from m e, sir: I w ill not betray you. 750 "TD IPU S I w ill not tender you m y trust As I w ould unto a w icked m an, U nder an oath. 71 (ESEUS T hat oath w ould bring you no m ore than this w ord. O E D IPU S T hen how w ill you behave? TH ESEU S W hat, precisely, gives you pause? O E D IPU S T hose m en w ill com e. T H E SE U S B ut these m en w ill be here to consider them . O E D IPU S B e circum spect in leaving m e. T H E SE U S D o not teach m e w hat I m ust do. O E D IPU S M y fear com pels m e. T H E SE U S H ave no fear in your heart on m y account. O E D IPU S Y ou do n o t know w hat threatens. T H E SE U S I know that no m en w ill oppose m y force A nd lead you out o f here. M any vain threats 760 658-696 O E D IPU S A T C O L O N U S 135 A re given w ords in anger. B ut w hen the m ind M asters itself again, threats com e to nothing. If indeed the courage has befallen them T o boast of your supposed extradition, I know this: that brief route overland 77° From here shall seem im passable As is the open sea. N ow w ould I have you take courage: Even w ithout m y protection you w ould yet be safe, If Phoebus has sent you here. A nd thus I know , T hat even if I w ere not here, m y nam e alone W ould guard you from grievously suffering. [Exit Theseus XWVUTSRQPON Third C horal O de C HO RU S G reat-horsed is this greatest land, O stranger; Y ou have arrived at the land of the Earth ’ s strongest hom e: This is pale C olonus, frequented by the yellow -green Trilling songbird, deep in w ooded glens; Ivy grow s here, w ine-dark, In the untrodden precinct of the G od, Teem ing even in w inter w ith m yriad fruit O n shady leaves, in all the w inter w inds; There steps the B acchanalian im m ortal D ionysus am ong the G oddesses w ho raised H im . H ere grow s the abundant, lovely clustering narcissus B edewed each day by heaven, perpetual; A ncient crow ning garland of the great tw o G oddesses 72 A nd the gold shim m ering crocus. N or do the springs of C ephesus river fail, W andering in stream s, but alw ays and each day It brings its quickening rainfall through the plain H astening w hat grow s in the m ighty earth w ith w aters pure. N or have the choiring M uses turned from here in hatred; 73 N or has the gold-reined A phrodite. A nd there is som ething there such as I never heard To grow on A sian ground, nor on the great D oric 780 790 I f 136 TH R EE TH EB A N PLA Y S 696-731 Peloponn esian island: a teem ing shoot U ntouched by hum an hands, and self-renew ing, 800 T he terror o f raiding spearm en, w hich grow s M ightily in this land: the blue-gray, child-nurturing olive tree W hich neither youth nor com m anding elder w ill w reck W ith a destroying hand, but alw ays Z eus the Protector, E ven blue-gray eyed A thena, keep w atch about it. I have another m atter for m y praise to tell: T his strongest m other-city, gift of the great D ivinity, A blessed country, abundan t w ith great horses ’ glory A bundant w ith foals, near the abundant ocean, O Son o f C ronos, for it is Y ou w ho have thus 810 B lessed her, L ord Poseidon; w ith the healing bridle Y ou first bred great horses for these roads A nd filled the row ers ’ hands w ith the w ell turned oar T hat leaps upon the fearsom e ocean, follow ing T he N ereids ’ hundred-footed dancing crow d. A N T IG O N E O land m ost praised w ith prayers, N ow should your bright w ords shine out indeed. O E D IPU S W hat new s is it, m y child? A N T IG O N E C reon approaches us here, not w ithout henchm en, Father. 820 O E D IPU S O m ost dear elders, please show m e out F rom am ong you, and now m ake good M y sanctuary. C H O RU S T ake courag e; it w ill be. F or even if I am A n elder, this land ’ s strength has not aged! XWVUTSRQPONML E n ter c r e o n , w ith a rm ed guards C RE O N R esident noblem en o f this country, I see S om e new fear in your eyes has taken you A t m y entrance here; but do not shrink from m e, A nd let no evil w ord from you proceed. i 732-766 O E D IPU S A T C O L O N U S 137 For I have not com e here w anting to perform 830 Som e feat, since I am an old m an, and I know The city to w hich I have com e is strong, If any G reek city is; greatly. B ut I com e Sent here, aged as I am , to persuade this m an T o follow m e back to the plain of Thebes; Sent not by one m an, but under the com m and O f all the population of the tow n: it fell to m e Because of kinship, to lam ent his sorrows m ore Than any other citizen. Still, poor O edipus, H ear m e: com e hom e. The w hole Theban peoplile 840 Justly calls upon you, and 1 m ost of all, as I U nless I am bom the m ost evil of hum an beings I suffer your evils, old m an, beholding you as you are, A w retched exile, ever the w andering vagrant, D ependent on your only guide, travelling w ith nothing T o sustain your life. I for m y part had not thought T hat this poor w retch w ould fall so deep into m isfortune A nd indignity, as it w ould seem she has,74 T he w retched girl; tending alw ays to your sorry head, A beggar at her age, w ith no livelihood, 850 A nd no experience of m arriage, but she m ay belong T o the first one w ho finds her! This is a horrible reproach, Is it not? I have degraded m yself, and you and all our household, H ave I not? B ut there is no one to hide this m anifest sham e, So you, now , by the G ods of our fathers, O edipus, B e persuaded by m e to hide it: com e w illingly H om e to the tow n of your fathers, having addressed This dear city.75 For it is w orthy. A nd yet full justly M ust the T heban hom eland hold your reverent fear, B eing the place of your grow th, from long ago. 860 O E D IPU S Thou all-daring m an, alw ays ready to derive A com plex schem e out of a righteous case! W hy do you try m e a second tim e, Seeking to ensnare m e w ith those sam e affairs By w hich m y capture w ould afflict m e m ost? For in the past, w hen I w as ill w ith m y ow n H ousehold evils, w hen I craved exile i wvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFED TH R EE TH EB A N PLA Y S 767-799 i 38 From the land, you w ere unw illing, L acked the grace to grant m e w hat I w illed; B ut w hen m y anger over that w as satisfied, A nd m y sw eetest rem edy w as supper in m y hom e, 870 XWVUTSRQP T h en you w anted to cast m e out, and banish m e: then, T hat ‘ kinship ’ had nothing w hatsoever of fam ilial love. A nd now again, as you perceive the harm ony o f m ind B etw een m yself, this city, all its people, and its king, Y ou try and drag m e back, speaking hard things softly. 76 A nd w hat pleasure is in this, to be loved unw illing? 77 It is as if a m an had given you nothing, though you persisted; A nd w as unw illing to equip you, though your heart w ere full O f yearning for w hat you required; then, he m ight give: 880 W hen the grace of it can bring no grace, this w ould be Satisfaction in vain, w ould it not? Such as you tender to m e now , In these noble w ords, these deeds o f garbage. A nd I w ill tell these m en as w ell, so that I m ay show Y our fraudulence: you cam e here to lead m e off, N ot into your hom e, but you w ould settle m e D w elling nearby, so that your city escape unharm ed From the scourges o f this country ’ s m en. N ot for you, such things, but th is is yours, instead: 89a M y aveng ing curse, dw elling in the land forever: A nd this is for m y sons: to gain only So m uch o f m y land as they m ay die on. 78 D o i not reckon T heban affairs M ore w isely than you? B y far, and by so far A s the sources w here I listen are m ore w ise: 1 J P hoebus, and even Z eus, w ho is H is father. Y ou arrive here w ith your flattering, cozening m outh T hat keeps so m any bladed edges hard: 79 A nd yet by all your arsenal o f w ords you w ill w in B y far m ore evil than salvation. E ven so, I know I have n o t persuaded you o f these things. G o. A nd let us live here: for that is no m isfortune, T hough w e live but as w e are now , if only W e accept it. 900 800-819 O E D IPU S A T C O L O N U S 139 C RB O N Is it you, or I, w ho suffers m ost By your position in our present talk? O E D IPU S It is sw eetest to m e, if you fail to persuade M e and these m en near m e. C RB O N O poor unfortunate, shall it be show n That even tim e has not provided you w ith w isdom , B ut you survived to put a stain upon old age? 910 O E D IPU S A clever tongue you have. B ut I know no m an W ho speaks w ell everyw here, on any and all occasions, A nd yet is just. CREO N Saying w hat fits and continuous talk A re different things, and far apart. O ED IPU S Y ou believe you spoke your ow n w ords briefly, A t the proper tim e! CREO N N ot at all, for anyone w hose m ind is like your ow n. 920 O E D IPU S G o. A nd I w ill say it for these m en as w ell: See that you m ake no m ove to frail or shadow m e H ere w here I m ust m ake m y dw elling. C R EO N N ot you, but these m en, 80 I call to w itness: As for your exchange of w ords w ith m e, A nd the friends I represent, if I ever do take you O ED IPU S A nd w ho could take m e, against the w ishes of such allies? 81 CRBO N I tell you, you w ill soon be aggrieved, even w ithout that. O ED IPU S W hat deeds are you threatening in those w ords? C REON I have just sent for one of your tw o daughters To be extradited; the other I w ill lead off soon. .930 140 O E D IPU S T H R E E T H EB A N PLA Y S 820-832 XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA O im oi. CRE O N Soon you w ill have m ore to groan about than this. O E D IPU S Y ou have m y daughter? CRE O N A nd this one too, before long. O E D IPU S O m y hosts! W hat w ill ye do? O r w ill you betray m e, and not expel x T his unholy m an from out your country? CHORUS A w ay, stranger, go quickly; For you do not do justly now , nor w ere you just 940 In w hat you did before. [to G uards] It befits you to take her unw illing now , jr e o n If she w ill not com e w illingly. A N T IG O N E O h m e, w retched girl! H ow shall I escape? W hat help can I expect from G ods or m ortals? C H O RU S W hat are you doing, stranger? C RE O N I w ill not touch that m an, B ut her, w ho is m ine. O E D IPU S O lords o f th e earth! CH O RU S O stranger, you do an injustice! C RE O N T his is justice. CH O RU S W hat justice? C RE O N I lead aw ay m y ow n. f 950 833-847 O E D IPU S A T C O L O N U S 141 O E DIPU S O , city! CH ORU S W hat do you do, stranger? W ill you let her go? W e w ill quickly com e to blow s. CREO N B ack off! CH ORU S N ot from you, w hile you intend this. CREO N V ex m e at all, and the cities w ill fight. 960 O ED IPU S D id I not predict all this? CH ORU S U nhand the girl, quickly! CREO N M ake no dem ands w here you lack the pow er. C H O RU S Let go, I tell you! CREO N A nd I tell you: step off! 82 C H O RU S Step up, thus! A dvance, ye dw ellers at C olonus; advance! The city is attacked, our city, attacked by force! A dvance W ith m e, thus! A N T IG O N E I am dragged away w retched! O m y hosts! M y strangers! 83 O ED IPU S W here, m y child, tell m e! 970 A NT IG ON E They take m e by force! O EDIPU S Reach out your hands, child! A N TIG O N E B ut I have no strength! CREON XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA [to G uards] W on ’ t you lead her off! [Exeunt G uards w ith A ntigone and Ism ene 142 T H RE E T H E BA N PLA Y S 847 — 866 O E D IPU S O h, I am w retched, w retched! C RE O N T hese tw o crutches shall never m ore sustain your steps: B ut since you yearn for victory over your fatherland A nd friends, under w hose orders I have done these things, T hough a prince of the royal house, prevail then. F or I know this, as in tim e you shall know it too: 980 Y ou acted nobly neither now nor in the past, A nd did yourself no good, w hen in despite o f friends Y ou gave your favour to your furious heart, w hich has U ndone you alw ays.84 C HO RU S H old there, stranger! CREO N T ouch m e not, I tell you! H OR US I w ill not let you go, and be defrauded o f these children. CREO N T hen you w ill quickly raise the stakes O f the city ’ s quarrel: for I w ill seize N ot just tw o girls. CHORUS W hat w ill you turn to now ? C RE O N I w ill lead that m an aw ay, captive. C H O RU S Y ou speak fiercely. C RE O N It w ill be done, even now . C H O RU S N o t if the ruler o f this ground prevents it. O E D IPU S O sham eless voice! W ill you light upon m e still? C RE O N S peak silently. O E D IPU S T he G oddesses have not yet m ade m e m ute F or this m y curse and prayer: thou m ost evil m an, 990 866-884 O ED IPU S A T C O LO N U S That w ould force from m e, w ho have no eyes, M y helpless one, w ho w as m y eyes till now . Therefore to thee and thy fam ily m ay the G od A ll-seeing-H elios grant an old age just like m ine. CREO N D o you see these things, m en of this country? O ED IPU S Let them see you and m e, and think That having suffered in deeds, I requited you w ith w ords. CREO N I w ill not check m y rage: 1 shall lead this m an aw ay, T hough all alone, and slow w ith age. O E D IPU S O , sorry m an! C HO RU S In such audacity you com e here, stranger, If you think to finish your attem pt! CREO N I do. C HO RU S T hen I shall consider A thens a city no longer. CREO N In a just cause, a feeble m an m ight overcom e G reat opposition. O E D IPU S D o you hear his m utterings? CH ORU S B ut they w ill not be fulfilled: Zeus know s this w ith m e. CREO N Zeus m ight know , but you do not. CH ORU S Is this not hubris? CREO N H ubris, yes; but reality as w ell. CH ORU S O all the people, O forem ost of m en, 143 144 885-907 T H R E E T H E B A N PLA Y S H ither com e quickly, com e! For they approach indeed our very borders — XWVUTSRQPONMLKJI E nter t h e s e u s TH ESEU S W hy this shout? W hat ’s the m atter? In w hat fear have you halted M y sacrifice of bulls upon the altar O f the O cean G od, that in C olonus stands? Tell m e, so that I m ay know all, For w hich I hurried here m ore in haste Than in the pleasure of m y feet. 1030 O E DIPU S O dearest m an, I recognise your voice! I have suffered, grievously, and by this very m an! TH ESEU S Y ou suffered w hat? W hat w as the injury? Tell. JE D IPU S This C reon, the m an you have seen, Left here, having tom from m e m y only children. TH ESEU S H ow claim you this? O E D IPU S I have suffered it, just as you heard it. 1040 T H E SE U S Let som eone of m y servants, fast as possible, go: H ave all the people hasten from the sacrifice; Those w ithout horses, and the m ounted ones, W ith their reins let loose;85 and in the region W here the tw o roads m eet, converge U pon the travellers: lest the daughters cross, A nd I becom e a jest for this foreign m an, A s though he handled m e w ith force. G o, A s I com m anded; w ith speed! [turning to C reon] A nd this one, If I w ere as angry as he deserves, I w ould not loose him from m y grip U ninjured. N ow , by that selfsam e law H e cam e here intending to enforce / 1050 908-941 O ED IPU S A T C O LO N U S 145 H e him self shall be arrested; none beside. Y ou w ill never leave this land, until Y ou lead those girls to stand here m anifest B efore m e. W hat you have done is disgraceful T o m e, to those from w hom you w ere bom , A nd to your hom eland. Y ou have entered a city T hat thinks on justice, not w ithout fulfilm ent 1060 O f the law : w hat though you dism iss this sovereign place O f E arth; though you traduce us here, A nd lead off w hom you w ill, and use com pulsion, T hinking m y city to be em pty of m en, or like Som e city of slaves, and I like som e nonen tity. Y et surely T hebes did not teach you evil. For they love not m en in w hom injustice springs, N or w ould they approve, if they learned T hat you seize w hat belongs to m e and to the G ods, L eading off helpless suppliant m en by force. 1070 If I had entered upon your land, never, not even W ere I charged w ith all the m ost just cause, W ithout perm ission of w hoever w as the sovereign W ould I lead nor arrest any in the land; but I w ould know H ow a guest in a city m ust conduct him self. Y ou disgrace a city that deserves no such disgrace: Y our ow n city; you disgrace your advancing age W hich finds you em pty-m inded as you are. I have told you already, and I repeat it now : W ith all speed let the children be brought here, 1080 U nless you intend to rem ain abroad for a spell, C om pelled, against your w ill. T hese things I tell you w ith m y tongue just as in m y m ind I think them . C H O RU S D o you see w hat you have com e to, stranger? A s for w hom you com e from , they seem just: B ut they find your actions evil. CREO N I do not hold this city to be void of m en, O child o f A egeus, nor void of counsel, as you said. T his deed I perform ed in the certain know ledge 1090 146 TH R EE TH EB A N PLA Y S That your people w ould not be so eager for m y ow n B lood kinsm en, as forcefully to keep them from m e. Y ou w ould not do this, I w as sure, for a m an W ho had killed his father. Y ou w ould not receive O ne w ho w as utterly unclean, a m an w ho, W ith his unholy bride, had been found out In the vile m arriage of a parent to her child. Such is the w isdom of them , established In the C ourt of A res, native to this country;86 I w as sure of it: that institution w ould not suffer Such a vagrant as this m an to dw ell inside the city: So in that belief, I took it in hand to catch him . A nd I had not done so, had he not denounced m e 87 A nd m y fam ily w ith that stabbing curse: suffering w hich, This seem ed a just thing to inflict in turn. A nger cannot age aw ay; it dies only A t utter death. A nd no pain touches the dead.88 Tow ard these things, respond as you like. Though I am alone, and though that m ake m e slight, Y et I speak like a just m an. Though I am old, I w ill endeavour to respond in kind, deed for deed. 942-974 1100 1110 O E D IPU S O sham eless arrogance! Is it m y ow n old age, O r yours, that you w ould heap w ith this abuse? W hat m urder and m arriage and event Y ou spit from your m outh for m y reproach, T hat I perform ed but w retchedly, unw illing, N ot choosing? It w as dear to the G ods that w ay.89 M aybe They w ere angry w ith m y family, from the past, Since for m y part, you could not find in m e T he guilt of any sin, that these (m y crim es A gainst m yself and m ine) m ight answ er for. O therw ise, teach m e: 90 if by som e oracle C om e unto him , m y father w as condem ned So that he die by his ow n child, how then C an you reproach m e justly for it? N o father had as yet engendered m e; I had no m other, but w as unborn as ever. A nd if, appearing on the scene, I w as a w retch I 1120 X 975-1009 O ED IPU S A T C O LO N U S 147 (A s I w as show n to be 91 ), and cam e to blow s W ith m y father and killed him , not understanding 1130 W hat I w as doing nor to w hom I w as doing it, H ow can you blam e an unw illed deed, and be just? A nd m y m other! T hou sorry knave, that feel no sham e A t forcing m e to speak of her m arriage of incest W hen she w as thy sister, such things as I speak now . I w ill not be silent then, since in your m outh ’ s im piety Y ou do exceed. For she gave birth to m e; oh, m isery! She w as m y m other, though I knew it. not, and she K new it neither. She brought m e into the w orld, A nd to her infam y she bore m e children. 1140 B ut one thing I know full w ell: m e and her Y ou w illingly denounce w ith these affairs, So I m arried unknow ingly, and now unw illing I declare these things. B ut I w ill not hear m yself D enounced as evil for this m arriage, nor for that M urder of m y father w hich you goad m e w ith forever. N ow answ er m e one question I w ill ask you. If som eone m aking you stand aside, here and now , Should try to kill you, w ould you learn by asking him If the killer w ere your father, or w ould you deal w ith him , Straight aw ay? It seem s to m e, if you like to live, Y ou w ould repay the m an responsible, A nd not go searching for the right. Into such a sort of evils I m yself stepped, L ed on by the G ods. In this I do not think M y father ’ s soul, if he lived, w ould contradict m e. B ut you, since you are not a just m an, B ut consider anything appropriate to say, W ith such w ords, both spoken and im plied B efore these m en you have denounced m e. It seem s expedient to you to flatter T heseus ’ N oble nam e, and A thens ’ fine adm inistration. A nd yet, as you say so m uch, som ething escapes you: T hat if any land know s how to w orship the G ods aright, T his one excels in it, out from w hich to steal m e, A suppliant old m an, you cam e here. Y ou tried for m e w ith your hands, and m y daughters 1150 148 T H R E E T H E B A N PLA YS IO O 9-IO 37 Y ou have taken aw ay.92 For this, I now supplicate These G oddesses, now im plore Them w ith m y prayers; I com e calling on Them , to com e to m e As m y rescuing allies, that you m ay leam W hat sort of m en they are w ho keep the w atch A bout this city. 1170 C HO RU S This stranger, O m y K ing, is earnest, Though his circum stance w as all-destroying A nd deserves our sym pathy. TH ESEU S Plenty of talk, w hile the guilty m en speed A nd w e w ho suffer stand about. CREO N W hat w ould you com m and your helpless m an To do? 1180 TH ESEU S That you lead us in their path, and I go w ith you, So that if you hold these children w ithin m y realm , 'ou w ill present them for m e; but if your m en escape V ith them in tow , then there is nothing w e need do. For others speed the chase, because of w hom your m en Shall never thank the G ods for their escape from here. N ow lead the w ay: and know , the taker is taken; A nd fate has taken you, though you w ere hunting. For the gains of w rongfill provocation none m ay keep. A nd you w ill have no partner in this enterprise: For I know w ell, that you w ere not alone, nor unprepared, W hen you offered your outrageous show of violence Just now , but as you did this you w ere trusting in another. A nd I m ust look to these things, lest this m y city B e m ade w eaker than a single m an. H eed you this, O r do these things I have said seem vain to you A s did those w arnings w hen you planned your deeds? 1190 C RE O N Say to m e w hat you w ill, w ithout reproach, W hile w e are here: but w hen w e have com e hom e, W e too shall know w hat w e m ust do. 1200 1038-1081 O E D IPU S A T C O L O N U S 149 XWVUTSRQPO TH ESEU S T hreaten if you w ill, only go now : but you, O edipus, so please you, stay here in peace, T rusting that unless I die first, I shall never stop U ntil I put thee back in charge o f thy children. O E D IPU S B less you, T heseus, for your grace to m e, A nd for the justice o f your noble foresight. [E xeu n t C reon a n d T heseus F ourth C horal O d e 93 C HO RU S W ould that I w ere present w here the enem y m en W ill plunge and speeding turn in the bronze w ar-noise O f A res, near the torch-lit, or near the Pythian shores, W here the holy G oddesses tend the dead w ith rites, U pon w hose U ps the m inistrant E um olpidae have laid 1210 T he golden seal: there, I think, the battle-rousing T heseus W ill m eet w ith those journeying sisters tw ain, ' A nd m eet their guards, am id a w ar cry of his ow n. O r perhaps the quarry w ill approach T he region w estw ard of the snow y rock, W hen they have left the O eatid country, R acing aw ay on young horses, or in chariots C areening. T here shall be an overtaking. T he w ar strength of the natives there is terrible, 1220 A nd terrible is the pow er o f T heseus ’ young soldiers. E ach bridle flashes lightning, and w ith every rein let loose, A ll the horsem en speed aw ay, that w orship A thena of the H orses, and the w orld-em bracing A ncient o f the sea, the dear son o f R hea. Is the fight on now , or yet to com e? M y thought suggests that soon they w ill return them , T he girls in their terrible ordeal, w ho first w ere found B y suffering at a kinsm an ’ s hands. T oday, today, Z eus, B ring to pass w hat w e desire! I am a prophet In predicting our good ending for the struggle! If only I could fight upon their fighting from abov e them , 1230 150 T H R E E T H E BA N PLA Y S 1082-1107 L ike a strong-w inged dove through the storm ing upper air, G azing w ith m y eyes from far above them ! O Z eus, w ho rule all heaven and see all, G rant that this land ’ s guardians fill w ith strength F or victory-crow ned success in the am bush; A nd so grant T hy holy child, Pallas A thena. A nd A pollo the H unter, and H is sister, T hat follow s the spotted and sw ift-footed deer: 1240 I w ant T hem to com e to this country, and to these citizens, A pair of defenders. O foreign w anderer, you w ill not call m y divination false: I can see the tw o girls com ing near, w ith attendants Just behind them . XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA E n ter t h e s e u s , a n t i g o n e a n d i s m e n e JEDIPUS W here, w here? W hat have you said? W hat are you saying? A N T IG O N E O , Father! Father! W hich o f the G ods M ight grant you to see this greatest o f m en, W ho has brought us here before you? 1250 O E D IPU S O m y child, are you here? A N T IG O N E H ere w e are, for the arm s o f T heseus A nd his m ost dear follow ers have saved us. O E D IPU S C om e here, m y child, to your father, G ive m e to em brace you, w ho beyond hope H ave returned! A N T IG O N E W hat you have asked for, receive; F or w e have yearned to give it. O E D IPU S W here then, w here are you? A N T IG O N E W e both are near you. 1260 1108-1135 O E D IPU S A T C O LO N U S O ED IPU S O , m y dearest issue! A N T IG O N E D ear to the one w ho brought us into life. O E D IPU S O crutches for a m an! A N T IGO N E W ith our sad share of your portion ’ s sorrow . O ED IPU S I hold m y dearest ones, and w ere I to die now , W ith these tw o here beside m e, yet I w ould not grieve. Support m e on both sides, m y children, C ling to m e; and lean upon your father; Rest from this late desolate and bitter w andering. A nd tell m e w hat happened, briefly as you can. Since at your age a short speech is enough. 1270 A N T IG O N E This is our saviour: you m ust hear it from him , Because the deed w as his. A nd thus so brief . Shall be m y portion. O ED IPU S O m y host, do not m arvel, if persisting I prolong M y conversation w ith m y children late-appearing, Past m y hopes. For I w ell know that this m y joy in them Proceeds from you, for you have saved them , A nd no other m ortal m an. A nd m ay the G ods treat you As I have w ished, you and this your country. For am ong you alone of m ankind have I found Equity, noble piety, and the refusal to speak lies. I know these things w hereof I speak, and I repay them : For w hat I have, I have through you, A nd through no other m ortal. R each out to m e Y our right hand, O K ing, that I m ay touch it. A nd if custom perm its, that I m ay kiss your head. A nd yet, w hat have I said? H ow could I w ish Y ou to touch a m an w ho has becom e the host For every stain of evil? I w ould not let you, N ot even w ere you w illing. A m ong m ortals O nly those can share this suffering w ho have it 1280 1290 152 T H RE E T H E BA N PLA Y S II3 6 -II6 2 B y experience. R eceive you then m y thanks From w here you are; care for m e in justice For m y rem aining days, as you have this day. TH ESEU S I do not m arvel at it, if you speak at length A t the return of these your delightful children, N or m arvel if you listen to their w ords before m y ow n. N othing heavy in that for us. For w e are eager T hat w e m ust m ake our life to shine; and not by w ords, R ather by the things w e do. A nd this I dem onstrate. For in that oath w hich I did sw ear to you, old m an, I did not lie. For here I am , leading them alive, U nscathed by the vaunted threats. A s for how This fight w as thus achieved, it w ere vain indeed To boast the tale you soon shall hear from these Y our tw o com panions. B ut on m y w ay here, t certain argum ent occurred to m e, to w hich should like you to contribute your opinion, ror though it be spoken briefly, yet it is w orthy O f som e w onder, and w hat is com pelling O ne m ust not dism iss. 1300 1310 O E D IPU S W hat is it, child of A egeus? Teach m e, A nd w e w ill see w hether I am not ignorant U pon the subject you address. T H E SE U S It is said that som e m an, not your countrym an B ut a relative of yours, has som ehow T hrow n him self upon Poseidon ’s altar For asylum , at w hich I had been sacrificing W hen I set out here. O E D IPU S From w hat land is he? W hat does he need B y his sitting there? T H E SE U S I know, only this, that it is your audience H e com es to beg, for a brief speech, O f no great m om ent. 94 j 1320 1163-1180 O ED IPU S A T C O LO N US 153 O E D IPU S O f w hat sort? T hat seat is no place For trivial w ords. TH ESEU S T hey say he asks only to com e and speak w ith you, A nd to be secure in his road aw ay from here. O E DIPU S 1330 W ho indeed is this, that takes the holy seat? TH ESEU S See w hether you have any kinsm an of A rgos, W ho m ight w ant som ething of you? O E D IPU S O dear m an, hold, w hatever else it is! TH ESEU S W hat is that to you? O E D IPU S D on ’ t ask m e! TH ESEU S A bout w hat? T ell m e. O E D IPU S H earing w hat you say, I know w ho has com e F or sanctuary. T H E SE U S A nd w ho is this m an, that I should quarrel w ith him ? O E D IPU S M y child, O K ing, m y hated child, w hose w ords 1340 O f all m ankind ’ s I w ould m ost bitterly resist the hearing. T H E SE U S W hy? T o listen is not to do the things Y ou w ould not be com pelled to do. W hy should it hurt you to hear them ? O E D IPU S O m y K ing, that voice o f his has becom e T o his father m ost hateful. D o not force m e T o yield in this. TH ESEU S B ut consider if his supplication com pels you, M ust you n o t attend to w hat concerns the G ods? I 1 154 T H R EE T H E B A N PLA Y S II8 1 -1 220 A N T IG O N E Father, heed m e, and though I am young, I w ill advise you. A llow this m an The grace of w hat is in his heart, A nd gratify the G ods as he w ishes. Y ield to us, and let our brother com e. For take courage, he cannot change your m ind B y force, unless the things he tells you m atter. W hat harm is it to hear a speech? T he deeds w e do in evil are stripped bare Through speaking. Y ou begat him : Therefore, not even if he did you the m ost im pious O f w icked w rongs, m y father, w ere it pious T o requite him in kind. N o, allow him : There are other m en w ho have bad children, A nd sharp tem pers, but they have this ill nature C harm ed out of them by the spell of their dear ones. 00k you now , not into the present, but the past, nd all that at your m other ’s and your father ’ s hands ou suffered: if you look there closely, I am sure, You w ill know w hat evil follows from evil anger. Y ou have plenty of exam ples on w hich to think; Y our ow n blindness, your w ant of eyes. B ut yield to us: It is not noble to refuse a just entreaty, N or that a m an should benefit from kindness A nd then not know how to be kind in turn. 1330 1360 1370 O E D IPU S O child, w ith the pleasure of your reasoning I am w on over, though it be heavy. B ut Jet this be, as it is dear to you. B ut if indeed that m an is to com e here, sir, I only ask that no m an ever rule m y fife w ith force. T H E SE U S O ne need hear such a thing but once, old m an, 1380 N ot tw ice. A nd I have no w ish to boast. B ut know Y ou are safe, so long as any of the G ods preserves m e. [frxit Theseus XWVUTSRQ i 1221-1253 XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA O ED IPU S A T C O L O N U S 155 F ifth C horal O de C HO RU S W hoever craves a greater portion of longevity, A nd does not w ant the m odest share - in m y view, Such a m an is bound to foolishness. For the long days H eap up a sham bles, closer to grief and pain, W hereas he w ill no m ore know his pleasures, O r their place, w hen into life ’ s excess he has declined. B ut the soothing death ends all alike, W ith their portion in H ades, that suddenly appears W ithout the lyre, the m arriage song, the chorus: D eath at last. N ot to be bom , surpasses all argum ent: B ut once a m an is bom , the second best Is his sw ift return w hence he cam e. W hen youth, w ith its levity and unw isdom H as passed him by, w hat grievous stroke Rem ains outside his life? W hat toil is not inside it? D estruction, quarrels, fighting, battles, Even m urders. Last, loveless old age Is his lot next; blam ed, rejected, Pow erless old age, and w ith him T he w orst of all evils dw ell together. Such a m an endures this plight, long-suffering: (It is not only I w ho so endure) and like som e northern coast Lashed by the driven billow s of the w inter storm , Even thus the m an is inundated utterly By ever-present terrors that upon him break like w aves: Those from the direction of the setting of the sun, Those from the sun ’ s rising, Those from the southerly noonday sun, A nd those from northern m ountains in the night. ANTIGONE Lo, there, com ing tow ard us is the visitor, I think, W ith no henchm en, m y father; and as he w alks the road, Tears stream from his eyes. E nter p o l y n e i c e s 1390 1400 1410 156 TH R EE TH EB A N PLA Y S 1254-1285 O E D IPU S W ho is it then? A N T IG O N E T he very m an w e held in our thoughts before: This is Polyneices, present here. PO L Y N E IC E S O h m e, w hat am I to do? Shall I w eep for m y past evils, Sisters, or for those of m y old father, w hom I see before m e? W hom I have found on foreign soil, in exile w ith the tw o of you; The ill-loved old m an in his robes, w hereon the old dirt dw ells still, W asting his ribs aw ay; and on his eyeless head The uncom bed w hite shocks quiver on the breeze. The diet of his w retched stom ach is, in him , A brother to these traits. See w hat a w retch I am , That learn this too late; and let m e bear w itness That I have becom e the vilest of m en, in this neglect 9 f your sustenance. Take this from m y ow n lips, Jot from others ’ . B ut since Zeus him self in all affairs las M ercy as the sharer of H is throne, closer to thee, rather, m ay that spirit draw . For there is yet A rem edy for your m istakes, w hereas they cannot B e m ade w orse. W hy are you silent? Tell m e, Father, w hy? D o not turn away from m e. W ill you answer m e nothing, but in contem pt W ill you send m e off w ithout hearing your voice? N or tell m e w hat angers you? Y ou then, seed of this m an, A nd sisters of m y blood, try and m ove our im placable father, W hom one can hardly confront w ith the w ords of one ’ s m outh, Lest he dishonour m e, w ho am a suppliant of the G od, A nd dism iss m e thus, w ithout a w ord in answer. A N T IG O N E Tell him yourself, unhappy m an, w hat you require now . For a plea of m any w ords can w aken joy, or consternation, O r deep pity, so that silent people speak. PO L Y N E ICE S I shall tell him all then (for you counsel m e nobly), First m aking propitious the G od from w hose altar 1420 1430 1440 1286-1327 O E D IPU S A T C O L O N U S 157 T he king of this land has raised m e up, to com e here; A nd has given m e leave to speak, and to hear, and to return U nharm ed. A nd these pledged things I shall w ant from you, 1450 M y hosts, and from m y sisters and m y father, T hat I should have them . B ut now I w ant to tell you W hat I cam e for, O m y father. O ut into exile I have been driven from m y fatherland, B ecause I thought m e w orthy, being eldest bom , T o seat m e in your absolute and ancient throne. In recom pense, E teocles, w ho w as the younger bom , E xpelled m e from the country, though he prevailed N either in discourse, nor in cross exam ination, N or in deeds of hands: H e cam e and w on the city over. 1460 O f this, I think, the cause lies in your Furies;95 A nd I hear the like from soothsayers. So then I cam e to D oric A rgos, w here A drastus B ecam e m y father-in-law . T he dw ellers in A pian land 96 A re forem ost in the honour and fam e of their spears: I had them pledge m e their allegiance in an oath, T hat m arshalling their seven spear divisions, I m ight T hebes attem pt, either to die in m y all-righteous cause, O r banish from the land the m en responsible. W ell then: w hy do I com e here now ? 1470 T o turn to you w ith prayers, O m y father, m y ow n prayers A nd those o f m y allies, w ho now w ith seven spears L ead seven arm ies to their stations, filling all the plain O f T hebes. Such is spear-thro w ing A m phiaraus, First in the strength of his spear and first alike in augury. T he secon d is T ydeus, the son of A etolian O ineus. E teoclus is third, bom in A rgos. F ourth, H ippom edon S ent by his father T alaos. T he fifth one, C apaneus, B oasts that he w ill bum T hebes dow n w ith fire, T o the ground. Sixth, Parthenopaeus is roused from A rcadia F or the w ar, nam ed for his m other w ho had long been a virgin; H e is A talanta ’ s faithful son. 97 I am your son, A nd if I am not yours, but am planted by som e evil fate, Y et I am called your son, and I lead the fearless A rgives A gainst the T heban arm y. A ll w e m en entreat you B y these children, father, by your ow n life, w e beseech you, 1480 I5 8 T H R E E T H EB A N PLA Y S 1328-1363 G ive m e up your heavy anger as I m ove against m y brother, T hat thrust m e from m y country, and hath stolen it. For if our faith repose in oracles, they say that pow er Shall be w ith that side you espouse, m y father. A nd now I ask you, by the sacred rivers and G ods O f our fam ilial nation, to yield and be persuaded, Since w e are beggars and exiles, as you are an exile. Y ou and I m ake our hom es by flattering other m en; The spirit of our fortunes is the sam e. B ut he T hat is the tyrant in our halls, w hile I am w retched, M ocks at us both alike in laughter: w hom , If you w ill take m y cause to heart, I shall W ithout m uch tim e or trouble, scatter to the w inds. Leading you back thus, I shall establish you again In your ow n halls, and m yself establish, w hen w ith violence I have throw n him out. If you w ill w ant these things w ith m e, Then I m ay boast that m y ow n strength w ill save m e not W ithout your ow n. 1490 1500 JH O R U S For the sake of him w ho sent this m an,” O edipus, Tell him w hat you w ould, and send him back again. O E D IPU S W ell then, you m en of this land that tends the people, H ad Theseus him self not sent this m an to m e here, It w ould not be just to hear from m e these w ords, N or ever know m y solem n voice herein. B ut as it is, H e finds him w orthy such things to hear from m e A s never shall m ake glad his life. O w orst of m en, W ho, w hen you held the sceptre and the throne, W hich now in Thebes your brother holds, Y ou drove m e out, w ho am your ow n father; M ade m e a stateless refugee; m ade m e to carry Such equipm ent as you now have w ept to look upon, N ow that you also happen upon laborious sorrow s Like m y ow n. It is not to be w ept over; I am to endure this w hile I five, and think of you A s of a m urderer. For it w as you that set m e up so, T urning m e thus to hardship and drudgery; Y ou that forced m e out; from you proceeds m y life 1510 1520 1364-1398 O E D IPU S A T C O L O N U S 159 O f vagrancy, m y begging others for m y sustenance. A s for your part, if I had not had these m y daughters, I w ould be no m ore; they preserve m e even now ; T hey are m y caretakers; in their w ork together T hese girls are m en, not w om en. B ut you w ere bom From others, not from m e. T herefore indeed T he daim on looks on you, not yet as it soon shall, 1 indeed If 1530 those arm ies m ove upon the T heban tow n," Since you can never bring that city dow n to ruin, B ut before then you w ill fall, polluted W ith a brother ’ s blood, and he polluted W ith your ow n alike. T hese are the sort of curses I called dow n ere now upon you both; C urses I now call upon to com e to m e, as allies, T hat you m ay think it right to hold your parents In som e reverence, and not be scornful utterly, B ecause your father is blind w ho m ade sons like you. 154c F or these tw o girls do not act as you have acted. M y curses rule your pleading, and this throne of yours. If the ancient law pronounced so long ago still holds, T hat at the throne o f Z eus is Justice also seated. B ut you, go: I spit out and despise you A s the w orst o f w icked m en; you have no father in m e. T ake together these curses I call dow n on you, T hat neither shall you overcom e w ith spears T he city o f your kin, nor return to A rgos valley, ever: B ut w ith a brother ’ s hand, and by aXWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFED brother ’ s hand, 1550 Shall you m urder and be killed by him that banished you. F or such things I have prayed; and 1 call upon T artarus ’ Stygian darkness, paternal, 100 that it bring you out from hom e; 1 call upon these G oddesses, and on A res yet I call, W ho has cast into you both his terrible hatred. G o on, w ith these things in your ears, and announce I T o all the people o f T hebes and to those allies T o w hom you plight your faith, that O edipus H as divided thus the inheritance o f his sons. C H O RU S Polyneices, 1 take no pleasure in your journeys past; N ow get you hom e again in speed. 1560 i6owvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPON T H R EE T H EB A N PL A Y S 1399-1426 PO LY N E ICE S A las, for m y journey and m y failure! Alas, For m y com panions! W hat an ending of m y road From A rgos! W hat a m iserable m an I am! I cannot speak such things to m y com panions, N or turn them back again, but I m ust silently C onfront the outcom e! B ut O you his daughters A nd sisters m ine, since you heard yourselves O ur father speak his dire sentence, you at least, 1570 If his curses find fulfilm ent from the G ods, A nd som ehow you should find a w ay back hom e To Thebes, do not dishonour m e, but place m e in XWVUTSRQP a tom b W ith funeral gifts. The praise you earn from this m an now Shall yet increase w ith other praise, because you do this labour For m e. N TIG O NE Polyneices, I beg you, in one thing, B e persuaded by m e! JLY N E IC ES O dearest A ntigone, w hat sort of thing? Tell m e. A n t i g o n e A s soon as possible to turn your arm y back to A rgos, Lest you destroy yourself and Thebes our city. 1580 PO LY N E ICE S B ut I cannot. For how could I possibly lead an arm y A second tim e, once I had retreated w ith it? A N T IG O N E Still, w hy need your anger com e again, child? W hat profits you your fatherland ’s destruction? PO L Y N E ICE S It is sham eful to flee, w hen I am the elder, A nd sham eful to be m ocked thus by m y brother. A n t i g o n e [indicating O edipus] D o you see his predictions com ing strictly true, W ho cries aloud that both you brothers w ill destroy Each other? PO L Y N E ICE S Y es, for he w ishes it. B ut I m ust not give in. 101 1590 I427 - i 44<5 O E D IPU S A T C O L O N U S l6 l A n t ig o n e [indicating O edipus] O m e, w retched! A nd w hat m an w ill dare to follow you. H earing w hat this m an hath prophesied? PO LY N EIC ES I shall not announce his m utterings: for an effective general Tells the greater strength, and does not tell the desperation. A N T IG O N E It seem s that w ay to you, does it, child? POL Y N EICE S A nd do not keep m e. For this is m y ill-fated road, W hereon I have to go, and w ith m e, evil from m y father A nd his Furies. B ut you, m ay Zeus be good to you, If you do these things for m e w hen I am dead, Since w hile I live there is no m ore for you to do. Let m e go. 1 m ust bid you farew ell now . Y ou w ill never see m e alive again.102 1600 A N T IG O N E O h, I am m iserable! PO L Y N EICE S D o not lam ent m e. A N T IG O N E A nd w ho w ould not lam ent a brother T hat enters on a death foreknow n? PO L Y N E IC E S If necessary, I w ill die. I i A N T IG O N E D o not die, but heed m e then! PO LY N E ICE S D o not argue for w hat m ust not be. A N T IG O N E B ereaved of you, I shall be w retched! PO LY N E ICE S iXWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA It rests w ith the divine to bring that forth, O r som ething else. A s for the tw o of you, I pray that you never m eet w ith evils, For in all m en ’ s sight, you deserve not oppression. [Exit Polyneices [interm ittent thunder] 1610 1 62 T H R E E T H E BA N PL A Y S 1447-1482 C H O RU S From new events, new evils o f heavy m isfortune C om e into m y ken, from our blind guest, unless Som e fate is reaching to its issue. F or it is not m ine T o call divine decisions vain. T im e w atches and w atches Such decisions ever, running som e m en dow n, A nd on the m orrow , lifting others up again. 1620 O Z eus! T he thunder crashes in the upper air! O E D IPU S O children, children, I need som eone to go A nd bring the best o f all m en, T heseus. A N TIG O N E Father, w hat is this for w hich you call on him ? O E D IPU S T his w inged thunder o f Z eus w ill lead m e to H ades soon; Send for him , as quickly as you can. XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHG [thunder] CH ORU S B ehold the great unspeakable noise o f thunder crashing dow n, T hrow n by Z eus; the terror o f it m akes m y hair to stand on end; Fear m ounts up to m y head; m y heart is cow ering. 1630 A gain, the lightning flashes in the heavens. W hat event can this portend? I do fear it: F or this stirs never in vain, never w ithout a consequence. 103 O great sky! O Z eus! O E D IPU S M y children, the ending o f m y life w hich G od predicted C om es upon m e, and there can be no refusal. A N T IG O N E H ow do you know ? W hat brought the notion to you? O E D IPU S I know it w ell. B ut sw ift as m ay be, let som eone go A nd bring the m onarch o f this country to m y side. C H O RU S O h, oh! M ark again that piercing, all-surrounding sound! B e m erciful, m erciful, O D ivinities, if at all Y ou harbour dark intentions for our m other earth. L et m e find favour w ith you; and do not, 1640 1483-1512 i 63 O E D IPU S A T C O L O N U S B ecause I have beheld a cursed m an, M ake m e to share som e portion to m y detrim ent; Z eus above m e, to T hee I speak. O ED IPU S B ut is the m an nearby? W ill he find m e alive yet, C hildren, and in m y right m ind still? A N T IGO N E W hat pledge is it you w ould plant in his heart? O E D IPU S In exchange for m y good w elfare, I prom ised him 1650 I w ould give him grace w hen I had gained m y request. C H O RU S O h, oh! C hild, com e here, com e! If at the furthest reaches O f the hollow in the w ooded glen, w ith the sacrifice you feast T he Sea G od Poseidon; com e! Y ou and your city and your friends T he stranger finds w orthy of a just thanks F or being treated justly. C om e, O K ing! E nter t h e s e u s TH ESEU S W hat great thunder is this, that pours from you again, C learly from the tow n, m anifestly from our foreigner? U nless that w as som e thunderbolt of Z eus, or else som e rain O r dashing hail? O ne m ay expect anything 1660 W hen such a storm as this com es from the G od. O E D IPU S O K ing, they long for your presence, and som e G od H as blessed your noble fortune w ith your road here. T H E SE U S W hat new s, child o f Laius? k O E D IPU S 1 M y life ’ s end. A nd those things I agreed upon W ith you, about the city — I do not w ish to die a liar. T H E SE U S W hat sign o f your fate do you repose upon ? O E D IPU S W hat the G ods them selves as m essengers announced to m e A nd w hat they long ago established does not lie. 1670 164wvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONMLK T H R EE T H E B A N PL A Y S 1513-1548 TH ESEU S H ow do you say the G ods have show n these things? O E D IPU S T hose m any and ongoing thunders and flashes O f lightning throw n from the unconquered hand. TH ESEU S I am persuaded. For I see you prophesying m any things A nd none o f them is false. Say then, w hat m ust be done. O E D IPU S I shall teach you, child o f A egeus, som ething your city Shall lay up in store, for a painless old age. Soon, I shall lead the w ay to the very spot: I shall be the leader, U ntouched, tow ard the place w here I m ust die. B ut never reveal this to another hum an soul, 1680 N either w here it is hidden, nor the region w here it lies: T hus for you it shall be set there as a strength G reater than your m any shields and the spears o f your allies. B ut those things o f w hich it is a curse to set a w ord in m otion, Y ou shall learn them yourself, then, w hen you com e there alone, Since I can reveal them neither to the peop le o f this tow n N or to m y children, though I love them . B ut keep it A lw ays to yourself, and w hen you com e into the end of life, R eveal it only to your sole favourite; and he to his successor, Forever. T hus shall you dw ell in this city unm olested 1690 B y m en from the T heban side; but m any cities, T hough w ell governed, com e to aggression lighdy. F or the G ods look w ell, though slow ly, w hen one turns F rom godly things to m ad am bition. T his you m ust not B e w illing to suffer, child o XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFE f A egeus. B ut here I am teaching these things to one w ho know s them . N ay but the spot the G od revealed com pels m e; L et us hurry now , nor yet be turned from the w ay. M y children, follow , this w ay. F or I have been m ade Y our guide again, just as you guided your father. C om e aw ay, and touch m e not, but allow m e B y m yself to discover m y sacred tom b, in that place W here it is this m an ’ s portion to be hidden in the ground. T his is the w ay; this w ay, step this w ay. F or they lead m e on, H erm es the G uide, and the netherw orldly G oddess. O L ight, 1700 I 1549-1586 O E D IPU S A T C O L O N U S 165 T hat now is no light, I suppose I had you once. I feel you now U pon m y fram e, the final tim e. For I already craw l T ow ard the ending of m y life, concealed in H ades. B ut you, O dearest of hosts or guests, you and your land A nd your people, m ay your happiness thrive, 1710 . A nd in your good fortune, rem em ber m e that died; Farew ell, forever. XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA [O edipus passes fro m the stage, fo llo w ed by all b u t the C horus C HO RU S If it is perm itted m e to w orship Y ou w ith prayers, G oddess Invisible, and Y ou, L ord of D arkness, H ades, H ades, I pray to you, that w ith no painful labour, N or heavy grief, in accord w ith fate, our guest M ay reach the all-concealing field, O f the dead, and the Stygian H ouse. F or his m any and fruitless sufferings T he justice o f the G ods w ill yet exalt him . 1720 O E arthly G oddesses, and the unvanquished beast of flesh ,(M T hat lie in am bush for so m any guests betw een those doors, A nd grow l from the caves, unconquered guardian of H ades, A s has been legend alw ays, I pray to you, O child o f E arth and T artarus, step clear of this stranger A s he m oves upon the plains of the dead, the netherw orld. I call upon you, that you m ay hear m e, giver of eternal sleep. E n ter a m e s s e n g e r M ESSEN G ER C itizen m en, m y new s m ost briefly: O edipus has perished. B ut one canno t tell so briefly w hat transpired there, N or w ere the actions of it brief. CHORUS T he poor m an is dead, then? M ESSENG ER T hat m an, be sure of it, has left this life. C H O RU S H ow ? D id the G oddess send him a painless death? messeng er I I N ow com es the point that is w orthy of am azem ent. 1730 166wvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJ T H R E E T H E BA N PLA Y S 1587-1628 H ow he crept from here, you surely know , As you w ere present. H e had no guide am ong his friends, B ut he him self led all of us on: w hen he arrived U pon that road that rushes dow nw ard, The brazen stairw ay rooted in the Earth, 105 H e stood upon one trail am ong the m any branching paths 1740 N ear to that hollow bow l of stone w here Theseus A nd Peirithous laid dow n eternal pledges of their faith: M idw ay betw een this and the Thorician rock he stood, 106 A nd sat him dow n between a stone tom b and the hollow tree, O f w ild pear; and there he loosed his filthy clothes, A nd calling on his children bid them bring From the river w ater for his bath, and his libations. They cam e to D em eter ’s conspicuous, verdant hill A nd in a little w hile, brought quickly w hat their father w anted; Then w ith robes and cleansing they accoutred him i 7S0 As custom bids. B ut w hen he had his satisfaction W ith their every labour, and nothing lay neglected N or rem ained undone, the Zeus of the G round Crashed, and the virgins shuddered hearing it; They fell w eeping to their father ’s knees, nor ceased To beat their breasts, w hile in their keening they continued long. B ut w hen he heard their sudden bitter cry, H e put his arm s about them , saying: ‘ C hildren, N o longer from today have you a father. For now , Everything has perished that w as m ine; and no longer 1760 Shall you bear the heavy burden of m y care. I know it w as hard, m y children; yet one w ord D issolves those hardships all: the love you had from m e N o other has exceeded, and you now M ust live the rest of your fives through w ithout m e. ’ T hey all em braced each other at these w ords, A nd cried out sobbing. B ut w hen they cam e T ow ard the end of their lam enting, and no m ore Stirred their shouts, there w as a silence, and then A voice, suddenly speaking to him , so that suddenly 1770 A ll the hair XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA o f their heads stood up for fear. For the G od M any tim es in m any tones upon him called, ‘ O O edipus, W hy do w e delay our journey? Y ou have tarried so. ’ *» 1629-1667 O E D IP U S A T C O L O N U S 167 W hen he heard him self thus called on by the G od, H e asked that Theseus, the king of this land, com e to him . A nd w hen he came, he said to him : O dear one, G ive m e your hand, and your oath of faith to m y children, A nd you, daughters, to him . Prom ise you w ill never W illingly betray them , but alw ays in kind intention Look after them . ’ A nd w ithout lam enting, he like a noble m an A ssented to this oath, to do w hat he prom ised him . W hen he had done these things, O edipus Feeling w ith his blind hands for his children, told them : ‘ O children, you m ust do the noble deed you have in m ind A nd leave this place: do not ask to see w hat you should not, N or hear the speaking voices you should not. G o quickly: Let only Theseus be present, w hose right it is, to learn W hat w ill be done. ’ So m uch w e all heard him say, A nd grieving aloud w e follow ed the girls. B ut w hen w e had m oved on, after a m om ent w e turned A nd behold, the m an w as now here present anym ore; B ut the king alone, holding his hand against his face T o spare his eyes the terror of som e apparition m arvellous T hat none can bear to see. Then a m om ent later on, W e saw him m ake obeisance to the Earth, A nd in the sam e prayers, to O lym pus of the G ods. B ut by w hat kind of fate that m an died, there is no one A m ong m ortals w ho can tell, except for Theseus. For he w as not destroyed by any fire-bearing stroke O f lightning from the G od, nor by som e w hirlw ind Landw ard sw eeping at that m om ent from the sea: but either Som eone of the G ods w as his leader hence, or else T he kindly Earth gaped open for him , to the painless Firm foundation of the netherw orld. For the m an M ade no groans; nor did he depart w ith pains of sickness, B ut if any m ortal ’ s death be som ething m arvellous, This w as. A nd if I do not seem to speak w isely, 1 do not address those to w hom 1 seem unw ise. 1780 1790 1800 CH O RU S A nd w here are those tw o girls, and those of our friends Sent w ith them ? 1810 wvutsrq i68wvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONML T H R E E T H E B A N PL A Y S 1668-1699 M ESSEN G ER T hey are not far. For their voices, not w ithout w eeping T ell that they m ove hereabout. XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFE E n ter a n t i g o n e a n d i s m e n e A N TIG O N E A ia i, p hen ! N ow indeed it is ours to cry out lam entation U tterly, on our father ’ s cursed blood, bom in us to our undoing A lthough until now w e did m uch ongoing labour for this m an, Y et in the end w e shall bring from it the having suffered and seen W hat lies the furthest from speech and reason. C H O RU S W hat is it? A N T IG O N E W e m ay conjecture, O friends. C H O RU S Is he gone?107 1820 A N T IGO N E Y es, and yet you m ight long for it to com e this w ay; For neither by A res nor by the O cean w as he covered over, R andom things; but the very fields have seized him , C arried him off in som e invisible fate. W e are w retched, A nd a night o f destruction has com e upon our eyes. F or how shall w e gain our living, w andering In som e distant country ’ s hardship, or on the sea w aves? ISM E N E I know not. I w ish m urderous H ades w ould take m e dow n T o die w ith our old father. W retched, how the life I w ill lead Seem s lifeless to m e. 1830 CH O RU S Y ou tw o daughters m ost noble, bear w hat burden Y ou m ust carry from the G od, and do not bum w ith grief 7 s excess. Y ou have com e to fair results. A N T IG O N E T hen there is such a thing as longing for troubles. F or indeed things are dear to m e, that w ere not dear at all T hen, w hen I held him in m y hands. 17O O -1727 O E D IP U S A T C O L O N U S 16p O father, O dear one, O m an w rapped in the eternal darki7oo B eneath the earth: dow n below you shall not be unloved, B y m e, nor by her. CH ORU S H ow fared he? 1840 A N T IG O N E H e fared but as he w ould. C H O RU S H ow so? A N T IG O N E In that he died upon the foreign soil he had chosen; B ut now he has the sw eet shade of his bed below forever, N or did he leave behind a m ourning w ithout tears. O father, w ith tearful eyes I cry out for you; So m uch is m y w retched grief in loss of you, I cannot m ake it disappear. O h m e! Y ou chose to die upon a foreign spot of earth, B ut now you have died alone, w ithout m e.'108 1850 ISM E N E U nhappy one, w hat fate aw aits you and m e, T hat have no father now ? CHORUS B ut since he has reached the end of his life in blessedness, D ear girls, leave your lam entation. Evils are not to be outstripped. A N T IG O N E Sister, let us hurry back again. ISM E N E W hat shall w e accom plish thus? A N T IG O N E A longing takes m e. ISM E N E W hat is it? A N T IG O N E T o look upon his dw elling in the ground. ISM EN E W hose? A N T IG O N E O ur father ’ s, w retch that I am ! i860 170 T H R E E T H E B A N PLA Y S 1728-1744 ISM E N E B ut how can this be proper? T hat it is not, surely you can see. A N T IG O N E W hat is this insult? ISM E N E A nd this, too — A N T IG O N E W hat is this else? ISM E N E T hat he fell w ithout a tom b, apart from all. A N T IG O N E L ead m e there, and kill m e. ISM E N E P oor w retch, how am I to sustain M y sorry life, alone, w ith no w ay forw ard? 1870 C HO RU S Friends, do not flee in fear. SM EN E B ut to w here can I escape? C H O RU S Y ou have already escaped from evils. A N TIG O N E H ow ? CHORUS B y our provision that your fortunes not fall ill. A N T IG O N E I know it w ell. C H O RU S T hen w hat do you think on? A N T IG O N E I know not how w e m ight return T o our ow n hom e. C H O RU S Y ou m ust not seek to do so. A N T IG O N E T rouble besets us. 1880 O ED IPU S A T C O LO N U S 1744-1770 171 C HO RU S A nd it has done so before. A N T IG O N E H opeless then, and now w orse yet. C HO RU S G reat indeed is the sea of grief you tw ain H ave for your lot in life. A N TIG O N E XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA P heit, P hen! O Z eus, w here shall w e go? W hat hope rem ains to us, driven on our course by fate? TH ESEU S Stop lam enting, children. For w hen the favour of the pow ers below Is laid in store as a benefit in com m on, one m ust not lam ent. It w ould bring N em esis. 109 1890 A N T IG O N E O child o f A egeus, w e supplicate you! T H E SE U S T o fill w hat need of yours, children? A N T IG O N E W e tw o w ish to see the tom b o f our father. TH ESEU S B ut this is not pious. A N T IG O N E H ow can you say that, L ord of A thens? T H E SEU S O children, to m e that m an forbade T hat any should approach the place; Forbade that any m ortal voice should speak O ver the holy grave that is his ow n. A nd he told m e that if I do this w ell I could keep the land forever free from pain. A ccordingly m y pledge of all these things w as heard B y the G od and by all-seeing Z eus of the O aths. A N T IG O N E If these things have pleased him so, T hey m ust suffice for us. B ut send us T o ancient T hebes, if by som e m eans our journey there 1900 172 T H R E E T H EB A N PL A Y S 1771-1779 M ight hinder the im m inent m urder o f our brothers. TH ESEU S I shall do this, and am prepared to do w hatever else M ay gratify both you and the m an beneath the earth, W ho has just gone from us; and in such labour I m ust not cease. C HO RU S Stop, raise no further lam entation. F or all these things are prom ised sovereign. [E xeu n t om nes 1910 XWV A bbreviations in these notes: XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA O .T. O edipus the Tyrant O .C. O edipus at C olonus N O TES TO A N TIG O N E = 1 (line 66) cf. M ilton, Paradise Lost (1674), n, 465-6: ‘This enter ­ prise / N one shall partake w ith m e ’ . 2 (line 99) The First C horal O de. This song expresses the relief of the Theban citizens at their recent victory over the A rgives and Polyneices. As often in such C horal O des, one of the them es is the danger of hubris, the arrogance by w hich extraor ­ dinary persons grasp for too m uch pow er, draw ing the resent ­ m ent and retribution of the G ods. The first stanza tells of an A rgive leader w ho cried ‘V ictory! ’ too soon, and w as punished for this hubris by the direct assault of Zeus ’ thunderbolt. As w e hear or read this passage, w e m ay look for hubristic behaviour am ong the principals: in A ntigone perhaps, w ho defied the laws of the king, but m ore certainly in C reon, w hose law s contradict those of the G ods (as A ntigone points out in the second E pisode). N otes to the first stanza the crashing noise o f A res: A res is the W ar G od, and his noise is that of batde. clanging golden arm s: here as in A eschylus ’ play T he Seven A gainst Thebes, the equipm ent of the A rgive faction includes golddecorated arm our. m ad m otions o f the Bacchanal: the w arrior ’ s battie-frenzy is being com pared to the religious possession experienced by the w or ­ shippers of D ionysus (also called Bacchus; cf. sixth chorus below ). In the fourth stanza of the present C horal Song (and again later, in the sixth chorus) the C horus w ill pray that they m ay be led by B acchus him self in their celebration. Theorists of tragedy (including Friedrich N ietzsche in T he B irth of Tragedy from the Spirit o f M usic) have proposed that its origin lay 174 TH R EE TH EB AN PLA Y S in just such a ritual transfiguration of the citizen chorus-leader into the G od. See Silk and Stem , N XWVUTSRQPONMLKJ ietzsche on Tragedy. 3 (line 153) Jebb gives the follow ing note here: ‘ There is a general dram atic analogy betw een this speech and that of O edipus in O .T. 216-^75. In each case a Theban king addresses Theban elders, announcing a stem decree, adopted in reliance on his ow n w isdom , and prom ulgated w ith haughty consciousness of pow er; the elders receive the decree w ith a subm issive deference under w hich w e can perceive traces of m isgiving; and as the dram a proceeds, the elders becom e spectators of calam ities occa ­ sioned by the decree, w hile its author turns to them for com fort. ’ (Jebb, 40). N ote also that C reon has been R egent of Thebes. W ith the sons of O edipus now dead in the recent w ar, C reon has assum ed the throne. 4 (line 203) For the vultures and dogs, see Iliad, 1, 4-5; for the fist of the rebels ’ thw arted intentions, see Shakespeare, H enry K 2, 2. 5 (fine 411) The phrase ‘ good luck ’ translates the one w ord herm aion, ‘ gift of H erm es ’ . (line 461) As the scholiast (the ancient com m entator on the text) explains, this indicates that the speaker (the G uard) is a household slave of the extended fam ily that includes both C reon and A ntigone (Jebb, 87). 7 (line 509) C om pare H aem on ’s speech to C reon below at 743-9; also see Sophocles ’ A jax, 1250-4. 8 9 (line 595) T he point here seem s to be that Ism ene is not w illing to accept utter exclusion from either the crim e or the punishm ent. W hereas Jebb took these logoi to be Ism ene ’s protests, it seem s to m e even m ore logical to suppose that Ism ene is insisting that her ow n influence w as part of A ntigone ’s decision, even if only as a foil or partner in debate. Ism ene has given up trying to persuade A ntigone to live, and is now trying to w ork out a w ay either to die w ith A ntigone or to feel less isolated by A ntigone ’s w ithdraw al from the w orld of the living, w hich has already begun (see fines follow ing). (fine 835) E ntom bing the victim w ithout providing any nourishm ent w ould incur m iasm a, the sam e kind of religious wvutsrqpo I. N O TES TO A N TIG O N E 175 pollution brought about by, for instance, the unavenged m urder of Laius in O .T . Just as in that case, the pollution w ould befall the w hole city of T hebes, not just its king. See note 17, below . 10 XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA (line 848) cf. K eats, ‘ A nd w hen I feel, fa ir creature o f an hour! / T hat I shall never look upon thee m ore, ’ from ‘ W hen I H ave Fears T hat I M ay C ease T o B e. ’ II (line 849) cf. the som ew hat different ‘ W hom G ods destroy, they first m ake m ad ’ ; also Paul ’ s E pistle to the H ebrew s 12:6, ‘ W hom H e loveth, H e chasteneth.’ 12 13 (line 859) T hat is, the sam e decree from w hich H aem on is sw erving, nam ely C reon ’ s current policy. (fine 878) N iobe is m eant. She w as Q ueen o f T hebes by m arriage to its K ing, A m phion. N iobe boasted that she had bom e m any children, w hereas the G oddess L eto had borne only tw o, A rtem is and A pollo. T hose tw o G ods then de ­ stroyed all of N iobe ’ s children. She returned to her hom e on M t Sipylus, w here her grief turned her to stone. V arious ancient authors described a form ation in the rockface that suggested a fem ale figure, perpetually ‘ w eeping ’ the rain; this w as ‘ the N iobe of Sipylus ’ . cf. H a m let, 1,2, ‘ L ike N iobe, all tears ’ . A eschylus and Sophocles each w rote a tragedy called N io b e; the plays are lost. 14 (line 887) N iobe w as divine in that her father w as a son of Z eus. 15 (line 910) T he L abdacidae (or ‘ house ofLabdacus ’ ) are descend ­ ants o f O edipus ’ grandfather, Labdacus. See the genealogy in this volum e. 16 (line 920) B y ‘ pious action ’ the C horus refers to A ntigone ’ s religious burial o f her brother. 17 (line 942) H ere again, C reon is careful to point out that he w ill not directly kill A ntigone. T o do so w ould incur religious pollution (m iasm a) and the risk of divine punishm ent (nem esis). See note 9, above. 18 19 I (line 953) T his refers to E teocles. (line 1006) In the follow ing C horal O de, the pow erlessness of m ortal persons to resist their fates is evoked by a series of 176 TH R EE TH EB A N PLA YS exem plary stories that have in com m on XWVUTSRQPO the im prisonm ent of a nobly-born person. As Jebb points out, ‘ D anae and Cleopatra w ere innocent; Lycurgus w as guilty . . . the C horus do not m ean to shed light on A ntigone ’ s guilt or innocence . . . the ode is neutral, purely a free lyric treatm ent of the exam ples.’ (Jebb, 168) N ote: T he fam ous C leopatra V II (C.69BC-30BC), last Ptolem aic m onarch of Egypt, is nam ed for the m ythical figure invoked in this ode. 20 (line 1015) This is Lycurgus, w ho vehem ently opposed the w orship of D ionysus w hen the latter arrived in Thrace. In retaliation, the G od drove Lycurgus m ad. 21 (line 1018) This archaic English spelling (aw eful) of m odem aw ful (attested, for instance, in John Florio ’ s 1598 ItalianEnglish D ictionary) better suggests the original sense of the w ord (i.e., full of that w hich inspires aw e in the beholder), w hich better suits the G reek here. 22 (line 1022) B aahus is an alternate nam e for D ionysus; he was w orshipped by M aenads, w om en w ho achieved a kind of trance, sw inging torches and sounding a now -untranslatable cry of ‘ euoi! ’ cf. the last lines of the first C horal O de in O edipus the Tyrant. 23 (line 1027) The B osphorus (also called Bosporus) is the point w here the Black Sea joins the M editerranean (hence the phrase ‘ double sea ’). A n im portant trade and nautical route, it got its nam e from the m yth of Io, w ho, having been transform ed into a cow (bous in G reek), w as pursued over m uch of the w orld ’s surface by a stinging fly, until she cam e here and crossed (phoros is derived from a G reek verb pherein, m eaning carry or bring) the w ater. So, the B osphorus is the w ater that ‘ carried the cow ’ . T he K yeneai are sm all, rocky islands in the Black Sea, just north of the B osphorus; Salm ydessus w as near the B osphorus on the northw est coast. 24 (line 1030) T he sons of Phineus w ere blinded by their stepm other Eidothea. She w as the sister of the hero C adm us, from w hom the Thebans claim ed descent, cf. O edipus the Tyrant, lin e I. 25 (line 1041) C leopatra ’ s m other w as O reithyia, daughter of Erechtheus (a hero w hose tem ple, the Erectheum , still stands N O TES TO A N TIG O N E 177 XWVUTSRQPONML on the A thenian A cropolis). B oreas, the N orth W ind, seized O reithyia and carried her off. 26 (line 1048) T his is the sam e w ord order as the G reek, because this line is so brief and so pivotal (it ’ s the question w hose answ er precipitates the clim ax and the outcom e) that the order of the m eanings as they em erge from C reon ’ s m outh seem s to m e significant, over and above the gram m atical fret that the G reek line w ould m ake the sam e sense no m atter w hat the w ord order. B ut Sophocles has chosen this order: first inter ­ rogative, then address, and lastly the adverb ‘ nouZ. O ne could say, ‘ A ged Teiresias, w hat is the new s? ’ but this solution m akes the G reek sequence of concepts disappear into an E nglish idiom . 27 (fine 1067) G od o f fire, and hence equivalent to fire itself. A gni is his (H ephaestus ’ ) Indic counterpart in Indo-E uropean religious m ythology. H e too is som etim es presented as an articulate personage, and at other tim es as fire itself. 28 (fine 1099) cf. O .T . 831 29 (line 1102) i.e. w izards, prophets, soothsayers. 30 (line 1119) U ntranslatable exclam ation, like the Y iddish O i (w hich closely resem bles, in form and function, another G reek exclam ation, oim oi, w ith the slight difference that the second syllable o f oim oi does have a sem antic m eaning, nam ely ‘ to/for m e ’ ; hence its conventional translation ‘ A h, m e ’ or ‘ w oe is m e ’ ). E xpresses frustration, dread, ruefulness, and the kind of self-pity o f the E nglish ‘ w oe is m e ’ or ‘ alas ’ . 31 (line 1139) C reon ’ s suggestion is that T eiresias has been hired, by other T hebans (perhaps the C horus), to convince C reon to perm it the burial. A s often in Sophocles (cf. Ism ene at line 85 and A ntigone ’ s response), one character is reluctant to speak, until another insists that he or she do so, regardless of the consequences. 32 (line 1146) i.e. those o f A ntigone and Polyneices. 33 (line 1160) Sarcastic irony. 34 (line 1199) Sem ele w as the daughter o f C adm us (legendary hero-king-founder o f T hebes) and H arm onia. Z eus ’ love for Sem ele drew the jealous rage of Z eus ’ w ife H era, w ho tricked 178 TH R EE TH EB AN PLA Y S the m ortal w om an into praying of Zeus that he com e to her in the sam e undim inished form in w hich he w ould normally com e to H era. That theophany (god-appearance) included the thunderbolt aspect of Zeus, w hich im m ediately destroyed the hum an being, cf. line 1139. A lso, see O vid M XWVUTSRQ etam orphoses, 3. 298. A s C hristopher M arlow e ’s D octor F austus praises H elen of Troy, he refers to this m yth of Sem ele obliterated by the revealed Zeus/Jupiter: O thou art fairer then the euening aire, C lad in the beauty of a thousand starres, B righter art thou then flam ing lupiter, W hen he appeard to haplesse Sem ele . . . 35 (line 1215) Jebb ’s note: ‘ The kissos [ivy] w as to D ionysus w hat the daphne [laurel] w as to A pollo. The crow ning w ith ivy (kissosis) w as a regular part of his festival. ’ Jebb, p. 202. 36 (line 1219) See note 22. U ntranslatable ritual utterance shouted in the w orship ofDionysus. W e can attach no sem antic m eaning to this w ord, but its religious im portance is great. For the possibility that the lack of a sem antic m eaning is part of the w ord ’s original nature, see the parallel argum ent about Sanskrit M antras in Frits Stahl, R itual and M antra: R ules W ithout M eaning. 37 (line 1260) In G reek, the line runs: ‘ H aim on ololen: autocheir d ’ haim assetai ’ . The first w ord (H aem on ’ s nam e) and last w ord ( ‘ he bloodies ’) are both from a root m eaning ‘ blood ’ . A lso note that according to Jebb the w ord ‘ autocheir ’ is am biguous, and can here m ean either ‘ by his ow n hand ’ or ‘ by a kinsm an ’ s hand ’ . 38 (line 1291) H ecate, the w ife ofPluto/H ades. 39 (line 1360) A circum locution. Literally, ‘if Them is should speak ’ . M eaning: if it w ere w ithin the purview o f the G oddess o f right custom (T hem is) to say so: i.e., ‘so to speak, ’ ‘ if I m ay say so, ’ ‘ if you w ill ’ , 40 (line 1375) cf. O .T ., 808-9, w here Laius hits O edipus ‘ m eson kara ’ (in the m iddle of the head) from above, w ith the kentron or double-pointed horse-goad. 41 (line 1390) cf 1030, Teiresias to C reon, ‘ W hat strength is this, to kill a corpse again? ’ 42 (line 1412) M egarius ’ and H aem on ’ s, respectively. NOTES TO OEDIPUS THE TYRANTwvutsrqponmlkjihgfe 43 (line 158) Pytho is another nam e for D elphi; its oracular shrine is therefore called the Pythia, as is the priestess w ho served there as the m outhpiece of A pollo. Pythia is ‘ golden* because of the vast stores of w ealth accum ulated there through decades of pilgrim age and votive giving, as w ell as the tem porarily deposited accounts aw aiting eventual w ithdraw al (see Jebb 1893, p. 31). A pollo is called H ealer in his capacity as a divine sponsor of m edicine; he w as bom on the sacred island of D elos, hence ‘ D eban ’ . 44 (line 176) This is w orse than an infertility curse in w hich nobody can get pregnant; here, those w ho are pregnant and due to debver find them selves unable to do so. Plato further developed this idea in the XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA Sym posium : ‘ W hen w hat is pregnant com es near to beauty, w hatever is pregnant becom es gracious, and pours itself forth, debghted, and gives birth and procreates. W hereas am id w hat is ugly, it broods and is distressed, and shrinks back and turns aw ay and is repulsed, and doesn ’ t give birth, so the pregnancy is very difficult to bear. ’ (2o6d$ — dy) 45 (fine 199) See note 22-. 46 (line 307) The ‘ O de on M an ’ in the A ntigone ( ‘ M arvels are m any . . . ’ ) celebrates hum an understanding for its sublim e use-value. Teiresias ’ terrible understanding is not hum an (since he only has it as the prophet of A pollo, w ho shares divine know ledge w ith him ), nor is it usefill: the failures of Laius and O edipus to elude fulfilm ent of A poUo ’ s pronouncem ents is evidence of just how useless divine know ledge m ust be for hum an beings. In O edipus Tyrannus: Lam e K now ledge and the H om osporic W om b, John H ay observes that a century after Sop ­ hocles, A ristotle claim s in the first sentence of the M etaphysics that ‘ all hum an beings by their nature desire to know ’ ; Teiresias ’ attitude, therefore, is supernatural not only in his knowledge of a future that only the G ods can foresee, but also in his revulsion from such know ing. 47 (fine 372) ‘ H ikanos A pobon ’ can be understood to m ean ‘ A poU o is capable ’ or ‘ A pollo is sufficient.’ The first reading is wvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA I 180 TH R EE TH EB A N PLA Y S a truism ; it goes w ithout saying that the G od is capable of destroying the m an. B ut the second reading reaches m uch deeper into tragedy ’s intractable philosophical problem s. 48 (line 393) T he verb for ‘ hitting the m ark ’ is XWVUTSR tungkhano; its opposite is ham artano, to ‘ m iss the m ark ’ . The noun form is ham artia, A ristode ’s w ord for the ‘ m istake ’ that undoes the tragic hero. Tow ard the end of this quarrel, Teiresias w ill turn O edipus ’ archery-m etaphor against him . 49 (line 679) This reading departs from Jebb in favour of the Scholiast (i.e. it agrees w ith an ancient com m entator rather than w ith Sir Richard C laverhouse Jebb, the great V ictorian classicist w ithout w hose w ork m uch of m odem scholarship on Sophocles w ould be im possible). Since the C horus represents the collective Theban citizenry and, in effect, the A thenian audience (see V em ant, 1990), there m ay be a rich vein of Sophoclean irony here: C reon is know n to ‘ these here ’ as the irrational and hubristic tyrant of the A ntigone dram a from tw elve years back, w hereas this scene show s him sane and satiated. O edipus is in the sam e state of royally hubristic blindness that w e know w ill afflict C reon in the narrative future, because w e have already seen that later episode in an earlier festival. 50 (line 866) C alculating seem s like the m ost reliable tool for rational m astery of an irrational w orld, and m athem atical propositions like this one are am ong the foundations of our understanding. Y et the m om ent of O edipus ’ greatest trium ph, the solving of the Sphinx ’s riddle, w as also a m om ent of m athem atical paradox in w hich one creature (m an) seem ed to have m any different bodies (each w ith a different num ber of legs); one leg (the low er lim bs of the infant O edipus, pinned together w ith a stake) becam e m any (tw o lam e legs and a cane); and one m an (O edipus, w ho answ ered the riddle) becam e the equal of m any m en (everym an, to w hom the riddle accurately applies). A lso, the doctrine of sovereignty espoused in the dram a ’s opening scene includes the idea that the pain of all com es into one, w hich gets frighteningly inverted in im ages of an em pty city w hose only inhabitant is a king w ith no subjects except him self (O .T. 54 — ^7; A nt. 739). A nd the ironies N O TES TO O ED IPU S TH E TY R A N T i 8i o f these lines are inexhaustible: ‘ C learly then, it w as not I w ho killed him ./F or one and m any cannot be m ade equal ’ also encapsulates the larger issue of sacrifice and collective purifi ­ cation through the exile of a scapegoat. T he one and the I m any are to som e degree conflated in punishm ent, since ‘ the w hole people sickens ’ of the plague, and in responsibility, since asjocasta says at O .T . 981, ‘ already in their dream s have m any m ortals/Lain dow n w ith their m others.’ Finally (for the purposes of this note), the effect of A pollo ’ s curse is to m ake w hat should have been m ore-than-one (a husband entering Jocasta ’ s body sexually, and a son leaving it obstetrically) into one (O edipus the son-husband). 51 (fine 1011) Jocasta has been reassuring O edipus as he w orries over the incest prophecy; here, O edipus responds that her reassurances w ould be very useful if his m other (i.e. M etope) w ere not alive. O edipus is referring to the reassuring rem arks (on m other-incest) spoken by Jocasta, but the construction (in the translation and, I think, in the G reek) im plies an incestuous subtext in w hich the rem arks on m other-incest are also spoken XWVUTSR about Jocasta. In this E nglish construction, ‘ o f introduces the agent after a passive verb. J ebb em ploys it in rendering O .T . 816, ‘ w hat m ortal could prove m ore hated of H eaven? ’ C om ­ m on in Shakespeare, it is am ply evidenced ,in the O .E .D . ’ s article on ‘ o f, part V , entry 15. In the G reek, the pronoun indicating Jo casta is in the dative case w ith the pluperfect passive verb of speaking, indicating that she is the speaker. B ut the audience is enduring the exquisite irony of Jocasta ’ s discussing this issue using the w ord m other and O edipus responding as he does. T hat irony arises because Jocasta and O edipus think they are discussing M etope w hile in fact they are discussing Jocasta. H er lines are spoken ‘ by ’ her, and, in the m odem sense, ‘ o f her. N O T ES T O O E D IPU S A T C O LO N U S 52 (line 64) The ‘ brazen threshold ’ is a bronze stairway leading into a deep ravine thought to issue into the underworld. O edipus w ill disappear into it upon his exit near the end of the play. 53 (line 113) A ccording to Jebb, the libation peculiar to the Eum enides w as unusual in this regard, being a m ixture of honey, m ilk, and w ater. 54 (line 177) This m etaphoric equivalent of ‘ w hat is one to think ’ is consistent w ith the G reek usage w hereby, in A ristode ’s XWV R hetoric, the orator goes to various ‘ topics ’ - literally, ‘places ’ in rhetorical space in order to fill out the speech. Sim ilarly in English idiom , to speak on an issue is ‘ to take a position ’ . 55 (line 210) i.e. guiding O edipus, as the C horus is now doing. 56 (line 253) i.e. the need for purification from pollution w hich O edipus ’ presence in the grove m ight incur. 57 (fine 309) cf. O .T. 461, Teiresias to O edipus: ‘ G o into these affairs, and reckon them . ’ The verb there is logizou and the em phasis is on O edipus ’ reliance on his ow n m ind. H ere the verb is dia-eidenai, and the idea is that Theseus, w hen he com es, w ill com e to a thorough knowledge of the situation. 58 (line 311) A xenos is a foreigner, a stranger, a guest, or, as in this case, a host. T he institution of guest-host relationship and hospitality is called xenia. 59 (line 329) cf. O .T . 217-8, O edipus ofhim self, the crim inal: ‘By him self, him self accusing.’ O edipus is a noble m an w ho w as his ow n m utilator. B ut from the perspective of his holy m aturity in O .C ., that self-wounding w as an act of nurturance and selfcare: it saved his m oral life. T he present expression ‘ w hat noble m an is not his ow n friend ’ is true and untrue of O edipus in the sam e w ay that the riddle of the Sphinx does and does not apply to him (he w as lam e all his life and therefore w alked on three legs in the afternoon, w hen the riddle requires tw o). 60 (fine 340) cf. O .T . 79-80, O edipus of the approaching Creon: ‘ M ay he com e brilliant in fortune, W ith a bright face to bring salvation.’ N O TES TO O ED IPU S A T C O LO N U S 61 183 pow er (as in the virtue o f an (line 440) The old sense of ‘ virtue, ’ XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFED elixir) is intended. 62 (line 458) Ism ene responds to O edipus ’ last verb, forgetting the gram m ar of his first. This happens occasionally in G reek. 63 (line 525) cf. O .T. 101: O edipus: ‘ A nd w hat cleansing? ’ 64 (line 566) Just after this phrase, huphegettoi dicha ‘ second guide,’ the speech prefix ‘ Ism ene ’ follow s. The subtext seem s to be that Ism ene is not O edipus ’ second guide; he has A ntigone and no other. 65 (line 583) U ntranslatable exclam ation, approxim ating to ‘ w oe is m e ’ . 66 (line 585) U ntranslatable exclam ation, approxim ating to H am ­ let ’ s ‘ fie upon ’ t! O h, fiel’ 67 (fine 667) If Theseus grants O edipus eventual burial in A thens, he w ill also protect O edipus from C reon ’ s im m inent attem pt to coerce him to the Theban side in the m eantim e. 68 (line 689) cf. O .T. circa 849: ‘ A nd w ouldn ’ t one be right, to judge T hat all this cam e upon m e from a spirit, C ruel, and beyond the things of m an? ’ 69 (line 698) Lew is C am pbell and Evelyn A bbott give: ‘ Because it is their fate to be overthrow n in this land.’ See their O xford school edirion of 1878, p. 81 (note to fine 605). 70 (line 739) Jebb (taking sunoisom ai slightly differently) gives: ‘ thy w ill shall be m ine,’ recalling D ante, Inferno 2, 139: O r va, ch ’ un sol volere e d ’ am bedue, ‘ N ow go, for but one w ill is in the pair of us. ’ This is called heteronom y (as opposed to au ­ tonom y). 71 (line 753) cf. Shakespeare, Julius C aesar, 2, 1, 129: ‘ Sw ear priests and cowards and m en cautelous . . . unto bad causes sw ear Such creatures as m en doubt. ’ T he point is that w ith a good m an, oaths are unnecessary. 72 (line 789) D em eter and her daughter Persephone, plucked the narcissus as she w as seized by H ades. 73 (line 795) A ccording to Pausanias I, 30, 2, there w ere altars to the M uses, to H erm es, and to A thena here. w ho 184 74 (line 848) i.e. A ntigone, upon w hom C reon him self eventually inflicts the suffering unto death, in the dram a called XWVUTSR A ntigone w hich constitutes the sequel to the O edipus at C olonus though Sophocles had presented it forty years earlier, in around 441. Thus the horrible irony in C reon ’ s present rem ark can only be available to the audience, not the characters, since for them A ntigone ’ s dism al end is the unknow able future; the audience know s all about it. 75 (line 858) i.e. A thens. 76 77 78 TH R EE TH EB A N PLA Y S (line 876) Sklera inalthakos legon. This has several layers of m etaphoricity. A sJebb ’s note explains, C reon is ‘ disguising the ungenerous treatm ent w hich w as really contem plated (399) under the nam e of a recall to hom e and friends (757). ’ In A ncient G reek as in English, the ‘ hard ’ is the physically conservative object that isn ’ t easily changed; and by w ay of this literal m eaning, a m etaphoric one develops, w here the hard is ‘ the difficult ’ , w ith or w ithout any literally hard object. A lso, this figure of speech bears a sexual overtone derivable from the association betw een violent aggression and m ale sexual arousal; the suggestion is that C reon ’s seduction of O edipus back tow ard Thebes (the scene of incest, and the m em ory of parricide) am ounts to a hubristic violation. See Sigm und Freud; R ene G irard; H erbert M arcuse; also D avid C ohen, Law , Sexuality and Society in A ncient A thens, and the literature on D ionysus, Priapus, and A thenian cockfighting. (line 877) A kontas philein. ‘ unw illing [to] love ’ . I defer to Jebb, w ho insists that this refers to O edipus ’ refusal {akontas) of C reon ’s apparent loving kindness {philein), not to C reon ’ s gift of kindness {philein) under constraint {akontas) by the oracle dem anding the return to Thebes of O edipus ’ body. H ow ever w e construct the gram m ar, the line contains an im plicit critique of all the filiative relationships that have proven so disastrous for him : the love of fam ilies for their m em bers is, like O edipus ’ parricide and incest, akontas, unw illed, not chosen. (line 893) cf. H am let, 4, 4, 64-5. ‘ not tom b enough and continent to hide the slain.’ Jebb notes I H enry IV , 5,4, 89. NOTES TO OEDIPUS AT CO LON US 185 H am let, 3,4, ‘ these w ords like daggers enter in 79 (line 899) cf. XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA m ine ears.’ 80 (line 924) The A thenians, im partial judges. 81 (line 927) The A thenians, and their king, Theseus. 82 (line 965) This is either C reon ordering one of his guards to seize A ntigone and leave w ith her, or C reon vying w ith the C horus; I favour the latter. 83 (line 969) A lthough unm arked in the G reek repetition of ‘ O xenoi, xenoi ’ , 1 understand a possible m odulation here am ong the ranges of m eaning for the w ord xenos. The crisis onstage at this point is the breakdow n of xenia, the dem ands of hospitality w hich govern the relations am ong xenoi (w ho are guests or hosts or strangers or foreigners). 84 (line 984) e.g. O edipus ’ conflicts w ith Laius (O .T. 807); Teiresias (O .T. 345); C reon (O .T. 583); Jocasta (O .T. 1067); and him self (O .T. 1268). 85 (line 1044) i.e. as fast as possible (not restraining the horse). 86 (line 1099) The A reopagus (w hich Sophocles nam es here in a tm esis, splitting the nam e into its tw o parts, ‘ pagos ’ and ‘ A reos ’ ) w as the ancient, aristocratically controlled civic-religious court of A thens. Its pow ers, though eventually circum scribed by the reform s of Pericles and Ephialtes, seem to have persisted in this kind of case (i.e. the expulsion of undesirables). 87 (line 1103) In fact O edipus cursed C reon only after C reon began to set upon O edipus. 88 (line 1107) Jebb notes Sophocles ’ E lectra, 1170, ‘ I do not see the dead suffering ’ ; C am pbell and A bbot (1878) note M acbeth, 3, 2, ‘ D uncan is in his grave; A fter life ’ s fitful fever he sleeps w ell; Treason has done his w orst; nor steel, nor poison, M alice dom estic, foreign levy, nothing, C an touch him further. ’ They also note A eschylus fragm ent 250, ‘ N o pain touches the dead. ’ See also Job 3: 13 — 9. T he action of the next dram a in the narrative, A ntigone, proves C reon disastrously w rong about crucial questions surrounding this very issue. 89 (line 1 1 17) This is a deeply G reek idea and the focus of Plato ’ s E uthyphro, in w hich Socrates asks the question; ‘ Is the holy 186 TH R EE TH EB A N PLA Y S holy because the gods love it, or do the gods love it because it is holy? ’ If the form er, then anything the divine chooses m ust be regarded as, som ehow, right — for instance, O edipus ’ incest, parricide, and m utilation ( ‘A pollo is enough ’ ; ‘ It w as A pollo, O m y friends ’), or A braham ’ s near-killing of his son Isaac at G od ’ s behest. B ut if the gods love w hat is holy because it already possesses an inherent holiness, then theism is in trouble ( ‘ R eligion lim ps aw ay ’). 90 (line 1122) XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA E pei didaxon. This is w hat gram m arians call ‘ the controversial epei", a favourite idiom of O edipus, as at O .T. 385: epei, pher' eipe: ‘ or if not, com e, explain. ’ (line 1129) This verb (phaind) m eans show or appear, or be 91wvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcbaZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJIH exposed, or, idiom atically, be bom . O edipus is referring to his birth (w hich is w retched because of w hat the oracles foretell), but indirectly to the self-exposure of his guilt in O .T., and to C reon ’s denouncing him in the speech to w hich he now responds. 92 (line 1168) Line 1009 runs: auton t ’ echeirou tas koras t ’ oichei lalm rn. Jebb renders ‘ and did seek to seize m e, and hast already carried off m y daughters. ’ This allow s for the fact that C reon, w ho w ould m anhandle (echeirou, ‘ seize by hands ’) O edipus, has apparently ‘ taken aw ay ’ the daughters only through his hench ­ m en (w ho recently captured the daughters and brought them to Thebes). Still, oichei is a second person singular and its subject is C reon. O edipus has already used this sam e idiom at 895. 93 (line 1207) The em phasis on sacred geography m akes this C ho ­ ral O de difficult. The first stanza expresses the C horus ’ w ish to w itness a possible fight between the fleeing Thebans (w ho hold O edipus ’ daughters) and their A thenian pursuers. The fight m ight happen at the torch-lit coast, in the Bay of Eleusis (the torches are part of the Eleusinian M ysteries, one of w hose religious functions is a tending to the souls of the dead), or at the site of the Pythian tem ple of A pollo, at a point som e five m iles distant on the coast of the sam e Bay. T he ‘ G oddesses ’ are here not the Eum enides, but D em eter and Persephone, w hose M ystery rites w ere perform ed at Eleusis. T he Eum olpidae w ere a genealogical group w hose office in the Eleusinian M ysteries involved keeping the rites secret. N O TES T O O ED IPU S A T C O LO N U S 187 94 (line 1325) XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA O uk ogkos. ‘ O f no great im portance ’ can also m ean, through a hom ophone, ‘ not full of barbs.’ In fact, the speech w ill be both: im portant and barbed. 95 (line 1461) i.e. those of the curse on the fam ily of Labdacus, O edipus ’ grandfather, w hich includes all his descendants. 96 (line 1464) The Peloponnese, a land form ation in the A egean and the isthm us by w hich it connects to the rest of m ainland G reece. It has m any nam es, derived from a variety of m ytho ­ logical figures including Pelops and A pis. A rgos, Eke the rest of the Peloponnese, is D oric because at som e point early in the A rchaic Period a H eU enic people called the D orians m igrated/ invaded southw ard into the Peloponnese and rem ained there, founding Spartan culture. A lso, Sophocles is m aking it clear that he refers to D oric A rgos and not to any other cities of that nam e elsewhere. 97 (line 1482) This fist of the seven captains derives from A es ­ chylus ’ play, Seven A gainst Thebes. Readers of H om er ’ s Iliad w ill recognise that this generation preceded that of the Trojan W ar; e.g. Tydeus w as the father of D iom edes. 98 (fine 1505) i.e. Theseus, w ho sent Polyneices to O edipus from Poseidon ’ s altar, w here Polyneices had been found. 99 (fine 1531) The daim on is to be understood as som ething dem onic, because divine and ahve, but also som ething conceptual, Eke fate or a curse. 100 (hne 1553) ‘ Stygian ’ m eans ‘ hateful, ’ apropos of another related piece of infernal geography, the river Styx. Tartarus is a region of the underw orld; Erebus is the darkness thereof, and in som e texts it seem s to be a kind of equivalent to Tartarus, or to denote another portion of the underw orld. The darkness of hell is here caU ed ‘ paternal ’ . Jebb gives m uch interesting speculation on this (e.g. it could m ean a darkness that is father to everything; or darkness like that experienced by Polyneices ’ bhnd father, O edipus; or the darkness of O edipus ’ ow n father Laius, w ho is already in Tartarus; or the darkness pecuEar to a father ’ s curse.) C am pbell and A bbott take this last, citing K ing Lear, 1, I, w here a father w ishes his daughter ‘ dow ered w ith our curse ’ . N ote also that O edipus has just spat Polyneices out Eke spittle, in the sam e utterance as he disow ned him ; this i88 TH R EE TH EB AN PLA Y S suggests a reduction XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFED o f paternity to the sexual m echanics that produced it (as the K oran often points out, ‘ m an is a bit of cast­ off sem en ’). 101 (line 1591) ‘ Y es, for he w ishes it ’ refers to O edipus; ‘ B ut I m ust not give in, ’ apparendy refers to Eteocles. The beauty of this is that by insisting upon his need to fight Eteocles, Polyneices is giving in precisely to the w ish of O edipus. 102 (fine 1603) The G reek idiom here is roughly ‘ you w ill never see m e seeing again ’ ; because w hen next they see him he w ill be dead. This idiom , so frequently em ployed by the heroine of A ntigone, suggests that being able to look on the fight of day is a salient characteristic of the living, w hich in turn suggests the self-annihilating aspect of O edipus ’ self-blinding in the O edi ­ pus Tyrannus. 103 (line 1633) cf. H am let, 1, I, 116-28. ‘ A little ere the m ightiest Julius fell . . . disasters in the sun . . . A nd prologue to the om en com ing on. ’ .04 (line 1721) i.e. C erberus, the three-headed dog that guards the U nderw orld. 105 (line 1739) Jebb ’ s note: ‘ T he rift or cavern at C olonus, from w hich the adjoining region took the nam e of chalkous hodos ( ‘ the bronze road ’ ), w as locally supposed to be connected to the ‘ brazen threshold ’ below by brazen steps reaching dow n into the underw orld. ’ 106 (line 1743) Peirithous and Theseus had m ade a trip to H ades, their cooperation guaranteed by a sacrifice at this spot. ‘ Thoricus ’ w as an A ttic dem e (that is, one of the pseudogenealogical groups established by A thenian political reform s for the diffusion of political factions). These details of local geography are less im portant than their function as landm arks: O edipus died at such and such a spot. 107 (line 1820) W hile this is certainly the m ain idea of the G reek bebeken w hen it stands alone (as it does here), its literal sense is closer to ‘ has he stepped / left by w alking. ’ 108 (line 1850) T he G reek here is difficult. Jebb sees A ntigone w ishing she had had an opportunity to perform the office of burial (w hich w e associate w ith her because of her burial of N O TES T O O ED IPU S A T C O LO N U S 189 Polyneices in the XWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA A ntigone, an earlier play about later events). Ism ene ’ s answ ering rem ark evokes the ending of the O edipus Tyrannus, in w hich O edipus describes the future predicam ent of his daughters, and the opening lines of the A ntigone, in w hich the daughters discuss their predicam ent. 109 (line 1890) N em esis is the retaliation of the G ods. Theseus ’ point is that the holy circum stances of O edipus ’ death, the oracles surrounding it, and the dead m an ’ s com pact w ith Theseus, together constitute a m utually beneficial arrange ­ m ent in w hich the G ods below are involved, so that further grief im plies a slight against them and a doubt about all the proposed benefits (O edipus ’ painless death, his protection of A thens w ith his secret tom b at C olonus, and perhaps even Theseus ’ prom ise to protect the daughters).