Antigone / Oedipus the King / Electra by Sophocles
1260
Enter CREON and the GUARDS, with the body of HAEMON
Strophe 1
CREON [sings]. Alas!
The wrongs I have done by ill-counselling!
Cruel and fraught with death.
You behold, men of Thebes,
The slayer, the slain; a father, a son.
My own stubborn ways have borne bitter fruit.
My son! Dead, my son! So soon torn from me,
So young, so young!
The fault only mine, not yours, O my son.
CHORUS. Too late, too late you see the path of wisdom.
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CREON [sings]. Alas!
A bitter lesson I have learned! The god
Coming with all his weight has borne down on me,
And smitten me with all his cruelty;
My joy overturned, trampled beneath his feet.
What suffering besets the whole race of men!
Enter MESSENGER,* from the palace
MESSENGER. My master, when you came you brought a
burden
Of sorrow with you; now, within your house,
A second store of misery confronts you.
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CREON. Another sorrow come to crown my sorrow?
MESSENGER. The Queen, true mother of her son, is
dead;
In grief she drove a blade into her heart.*
Antistrophe 1
CREON [sings]. Alas!
Thou grim hand of death, greedy and unappeased,
Why so implacable?
Voice of doom, you who bring
Such dire news of grief, O, can it be true?
What have you said, my son? O, you have slain the
slain!
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Tell me, can it be true? Is death crowning death?
My wife! my wife!
My son dead, and now my wife taken too!
EURYDICE’s body is revealed
CHORUS. But raise your eyes: there is her lifeless body.
CREON [sings]. Alas!
Here is a sorrow that redoubles sorrow.
Where will it end? What else can Fate hold in store?
While yet I clasp my dead son in my arms
Before me there lies another struck by death.
Alas cruel doom! the mother’s and the son’s.
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MESSENGER. She took a sharp-edged knife, stood by the
altar,
And made lament for Megareus* who was killed
Of old, and next for Haemon. Then at last,
Invoking evil upon you, the slayer
Of both her sons, she closed her eyes in death.
Strophe 2
CREON [sings]. A curse, a thing of terror! O, is there
none
Will unsheathe a sword to end all my woes
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With one deadly thrust? My grief crushes me.
MESSENGER. She cursed you for the guilt of Haemon’s
death
And of the other son who died before.
CREON. What did she do? How did she end her life?
MESSENGER. She heard my bitter story; then she put
A dagger to her heart and drove it home.
CREON [sings]. The guilt falls on me alone; none but I
Have slain her; no other shares in the sin.
’Twas I dealt the blow. This is the truth, my friends.
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Away, take me away, far from the sight of men!
My life now is death. Lead me away from here.
CHORUS. That would be well, if anything is well.
Briefest is best when such disaster comes.
Antistrophe 2
CREON [sings]. O come, best of all the days I can see,
The last day of all, the day that brings death.
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O come quickly! Come, thou night with no dawn!
CHORUS. That’s for the future; here and now are duties
That fall on those to whom they are allotted.
CREON. I prayed for death; I wish for nothing else.
CHORUS. Then pray no more; from suffering that has
been
Decreed no man will ever find escape.
CREON [sings]. Lead me away, a rash, a misguided
man,
Whose blindness has killed a wife and a son.*
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O where can I look? What strength can I find?
On me has fallen a doom greater than I can bear.
[Exeunt CREON and GUARDS into the palace
CHORUS [chants]. Of happiness, far the greatest part
Is wisdom, and reverence towards the gods.
Proud words of the arrogant man, in the end,
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Meet punishment, great as his pride was great,
Till at last he is schooled in wisdom.
OEDIPUS THE KING
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
OEDIPUS, King of Thebes
PRIEST OF ZEUS
CREON, brother of locasta
TEIRESIAS, a Seer
IOCASTA, Queen of Thebes
A CORINTHIAN SHEPHERD
A THEBAN SHEPHERD
A MESSENGER
CHORUS of Theban citizens
ANTIGONE ISMENE daughters of Oedipus and Iocasta (they have no speaking parts.)
Priests, Attendants, etc.
Scene: Thebes, before the royal palace
OEDIPUS THE KING1
OEDIPUS. My children,* latest brood of ancient
Cadmus,*
What purpose brings you here, a multitude
Bearing the boughs that mark the suppliant?*
Why is our air so full of frankincense,
So full of hymns and prayers* and lamentations?
This, children, was no matter to entrust
To others: therefore I myself am come
Whose fame is known to all—I, Oedipus.
—You, Sir, are pointed out by length of years
To be the spokesman: tell me, what is in
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Your hearts? What fear? What sorrow? Count on all
That I can do, for I am not so hard
As not to pity such a supplication.
PRIEST. Great King of Thebes, and sovereign Oedipus,
Look on us, who now stand before the altars—*
Some young, still weak of wing; some bowed with age—
The priests, as I, of Zeus; and these, the best
Of our young men; and in the market-place,
And by Athena’s temples and the shrine
Of fiery divination,* there is kneeling,
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Each with his suppliant branch, the rest of Thebes.
The city, as you see yourself, is now
Storm-tossed, and can no longer raise its head
Above the waves and angry surge of death.
The fruitful blossoms of the land are barren,
The herds upon our pastures, and our wives
In childbirth, barren. Last, and worst of all,
The withering god of fever* swoops on us
To empty Cadmus’ city and enrich
Dark Hades with our groans and lamentations.
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No god we count you,* that we bring our prayers,
I and these children, to your palace-door,
But wise above all other men to read
Life’s riddles, and the hidden ways of Heaven;
For it was you who came and set us free
From the blood-tribute that the cruel Sphinx*
Had laid upon our city; without our aid
Or our instruction, but, as we believe,
With god as ally, you gave us back our life.
So now, most dear, most mighty Oedipus,
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We all entreat you on our bended knees,*
Come to our rescue, whether from the gods
Or from some man you can find means to save.
For I have noted, that
Of best effect, who has been tried in action.
Come, noble Oedipus! Come, save our city.
Be well advised; for that past service given
This city calls you Saviour; of your kingship
Let not the record be that first we rose
From ruin, then to ruin fell again.
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No, save our city, let it stand secure.
You brought us gladness and deliverance
Before; now do no less. You rule this land;
Better to rule it full of living men
Than rule a desert; citadel or ship
Without its company of men is nothing.
OEDIPUS. My children, what you long for, that I know
Indeed, and pity you. I know how cruelly
You suffer; yet, though sick, not one of you
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Suffers a sickness half as great as mine.
Yours is a single pain; each man of you
Feels but his own. My heart is heavy with
The city’s pain, my own, and yours together.
You come to me not as to one asleep
And needing to be wakened; many a tear
I have been shedding, every path of thought
Have I been pacing; and what remedy,
What single hope my anxious thought has found
That I have tried. Creon, Menoeceus’ son,
My own wife’s brother, I have sent to Delphi
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To ask in Phoebus’ house* what act of mine,
What word of mine, may bring deliverance.
Now, as I count the days, it troubles me
What he is doing; his absence is prolonged
Beyond the proper time. But when he comes
Then write me down a villain, if I do
Not each particular that the god discloses.
PRIEST. You give us hope.—And here is more, for they
Are signalling* that Creon has returned.
OEDIPUS. O Lord Apollo, even as Creon smiles,
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Smile now on us, and let it be deliverance!
PRIEST. The news is good; or he would not be wearing
That ample wreath of richly-berried laurel.
OEDIPUS. We soon shall know; my voice will reach so far:
Creon my lord, my kinsman, what response
Do you bring with you from the god of Delphi?
Enter CREON
CREON. Good news! Our sufferings, if they are guided right,
Can even yet turn to a happy issue.
OEDIPUS. This only leaves my fear and confidence
In equal balance: what did Phoebus say?
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CREON. Is it your wish to hear it now, in public,
Or in the palace? I am at your service.
OEDIPUS. Let them all hear! Their sufferings distress
Me more than if my own life were at stake.
CREON. Then I will tell you what Apollo said—
And it was very clear. There is pollution*
Here in our midst, long-standing. This must we
Expel, nor let it grow past remedy.
OEDIPUS. What has defiled us? and how are we to purge it?
CREON. By banishing or killing one who murdered,
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And so called down this pestilence upon us.
OEDIPUS. Who is the man whose death the god denounces?
CREON. Before the city passed into your care,
My lord, we had a king called Laius.*
OEDIPUS. So have I often heard.—I never saw him.
CREON. His death, Apollo clearly charges us,
We must avenge upon his murderers.
OEDIPUS. Where are they now? And where shall we disclose
The unseen traces of that ancient crime?
CREON. The god said, Here.—A man who hunts with care
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May often find what other men will miss.
OEDIPUS. Where was he murdered?* In the palace here?
Or in the country? Or was he abroad?
CREON. He made a journey to consult the god,