The Seven Plays in English Verse Part 26

Then in mine angry mood I sharply struck The driver-man who turned me from the way; Which when the elder saw, he watched for me As I pa.s.sed by, and from the chariot-seat Smote full upon my head with the fork'd goad; But got more than he gave; for, by a blow From this right hand, smit with my staff, he fell Instantly rolled out of the car supine.

I slew them every one. Now if that stranger Had aught in common with king Laius, What wretch on earth was e'er so lost as I?

Whom have the Heavens so followed with their hate?

No house of Theban or of foreigner Must any more receive me, none henceforth Must speak to me, but drive me from the door!

I, I have laid this curse on mine own head!

Yea, and this arm that slew him now enfolds His queen. O cruel stain! Am I not vile?

Polluted utterly! Yes, I must flee, And, lost to Thebe, nevermore behold My home, nor tread my country, lest I meet In marriage mine own mother, and bring low His head that gave me life and reared my youth, My father, Polybus. Ah! right were he Who should declare some G.o.d of cruel mood Had sent this trouble upon my soul! Ye Powers, Wors.h.i.+pped in holiness, ne'er may I see That day, but perish from the sight of men, Ere sins like these be branded on my name!

CH. Thy fear is ours, O king: yet lose not hope, Till thou hast heard the witness of the deed.

OED. Ay, that is all I still have left of hope, To bide the coming of the shepherd man.

JO. What eager thought attends his presence here?

OED. I'll tell thee. Should his speech accord with thine, My life stands clear from this calamity.

JO. What word of mine agreed not with the scene?

OED. You said he spake of robbers in a band As having slain him. Now if he shall still Persist in the same number, I am free.

One man and many cannot be the same.

But should he tell of one lone traveller, Then, unavoidably, this falls on me.

JO. So 'twas given out by him, be sure of that.

He cannot take it back. Not I alone But all the people heard him speak it so.

And should he swerve in aught from his first tale, He ne'er can show the murder of the king Rightly accordant with the oracle.

For Phoebus said expressly he should fall Through him whom I brought forth. But that poor babe Ne'er slew his sire, but perished long before.

Wherefore henceforth I will pursue my way Regardless of all words of prophecy.

OED. Wisely resolved. But still send one to bring The labourer swain, and be not slack in this.

JO. I will, and promptly. Go we now within!

My whole desire is but to work thy will. [_Exeunt_

CHORUS O may my life be evermore I 1 Pure in each holy word and deed By those eternal laws decreed That pace the sapphire-paven floor!

Children of Heaven, of Ether born, No mortal knew their natal morn, Nor may Oblivion's waters deep E'er lull their wakeful spirit asleep, Nor creeping Age o'erpower the mighty G.o.d Who far within them holds his unprofaned abode.

Pride breeds the tyrant: monstrous birth! I 2 Insolent Pride, if idly nursed On timeless surfeit, plenty accursed, Spurning the lowlier tract of Earth Mounts to her pinnacle,--then falls, Dashed headlong down sheer mountain walls To dark Necessity's deep ground, Where never foothold can be found.

Let wrestlers for my country's glory speed, G.o.d, I thee pray! Be G.o.d my helper in all need!

But if one be, whose bold disdain I 2 Walks in a round of vapourings vain And violent acts, regarding not The Rule of Right, but with proud thought Scorning the place where G.o.ds have set their seat, --Made captive by an Evil Doom, Shorn of that inauspicious bloom, Let him be shown the path of lawful gain And taught in holier ways to guide his feet, Nor with mad folly strain His pa.s.sionate arms to clasp things impious to retain.

Who in such courses shall defend his soul From storms of thundrous wrath that o'er him roll?

If honour to such lives be given, What needs our choir to hymn the power of Heaven?

No more to Delphi, central shrine II 2 Of Earth, I'll seek, for light divine, Nor visit Abae's mystic fane Nor travel o'er the well-trod plain Where thousands throng to famed Olympia's town, Unless, with manifest accord, The event fulfil the oracular word.

Zeus, Lord of all! if to eternity Thou would'st confirm thy kingdom's large renown, Let not their vauntings high Evade the sovereign look of the everlasting eye!

They make as though the ancient warning slept By Laius erst with fear and trembling kept; Apollo's glory groweth pale, And holiest rites are p.r.o.ne to faint and fail.

_Enter_ JOCASTA.

JO. Princes of Thebes, it came into my thought To stand before some holy altar-place With frankincense and garlands. For the king, Transported by the tempest of his fear, Runs wild in grief, nor like a man of sense Reasons of present things from what hath been.

Each tongue o'ermasters him that tells of woe.

Then since my counsels are of no avail, To thee, for thou art nearest, Lykian G.o.d, I bring my supplication with full hand.

O grant us absolution and relief!

For seeing him, our pilot, so distraught, Like mariners, we are all amazed with dread.

_Enter the_ CORINTHIAN SHEPHERD.

COR. SH. Are ye the men to tell me where to find The mansion of the sovereign Oedipus?

Or better, where he may himself be found?

CH. Here is the roof you seek, and he, our lord, Is there within: and, stranger, thou behold'st The queenly mother of his royal race.

COR. SH. May she and hers be alway fortunate!

Still may she crown him with the joys of home!

JO. Be thou, too, blest, kind sir! Thy gracious tongue Deserves no less. But tell me what request Or what intelligence thou bring'st with thee?

COR. SH. Good tidings for thy house and husband, queen.

JO. What are they? Who hath sent thee to our hall?

COR. SH. From Corinth come I, and will quickly tell What sure will please you; though perchance 'twill grieve.

JO. What news can move us thus two ways at once?

COR. SH. 'Twas rumoured that the people of the land Of Corinth would make Oedipus their king.

JO. Is ancient Polybus not still in power?

COR. SH. No. Death confines him in a kingly grave.

JO. Hold there! How say you? Polybus in his grave?

COR. SH. May I die for him if I speak not true!

JO. (_To an attendant_).

Run thou, and tell this quickly to my lord!

Voices of prophecy, where are ye now?

Long time hath Oedipus, a homeless man, Trembled with fear of slaying Polybus.

Who now lies slain by Fortune, not by him.

_Enter_ OEDIPUS.

OED. Jocasta, my dear queen, why didst thou send To bring me hither from our palace-hall?

JO. Hear that man's tale, and then consider well The end of yonder dreadful prophecy.

OED. Who is the man, and what his errand here?

JO. He comes from Corinth, to make known to thee That Polybus, thy father, is no more.