IOCASTA. For all my fear, I’ll tell you what I can.
OEDIPUS. Was he alone, or did he have with him
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A royal bodyguard of men-at-arms?
IOCASTA. The company in all were five; the King
Rode in a carriage, and there was a Herald. *
OEDIPUS. Ah God! How clear the picture is! . . . But who,
Iocasta, brought report of this to Thebes?
IOCASTA. A slave, the only man that was not killed.
OEDIPUS. And is he round about the palace now?
IOCASTA. No, he is not. When he returned, and saw
You ruling in the place of the dead
King, He begged me, on his bended knees, to send him
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Into the hills as shepherd, out of sight,
As far as could be from the city here.
I sent him, for he was a loyal slave;
He well deserved this favour—and much more.
OEDIPUS. Could he be brought back here—at once— to see me?
IOCASTA. He could; but why do you desire his coming?
OEDIPUS. I fear I have already said, Iocasta,
More than enough; and therefore I will see him.
IOCASTA. Then he shall come. But, as your wife, I ask you,
What is the terror that possesses you?
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OEDIPUS. And you shall know it, since my fears have grown
So great; for who is more to me than you,
That I should speak to him at such a moment?
My father, then, was Poly bus of Corinth;
My mother, Merope.* My station there
Was high as any man’s—until a thing
Befell me that was strange indeed, though not
Deserving of the thought I gave to it.
A man said at a banquet—he was full
Of wine—that I was not my father’s son.
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It angered me; but I restrained myself
That day. The next I went and questioned both
My parents. They were much incensed with him
Who had let fall the insult. So, from them,
I had assurance. Yet the slander spread
And always chafed me. Therefore secretly,
My mother and my father unaware,
I went to Delphi. Phoebus would return
No answer to my question, but declared
A thing most horrible: he foretold that I
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Should mate with my own mother, and beget
A brood that men would shudder to behold,
And that I was to be the murderer
Of my own father.
Therefore, back to Corinth
I never went—the stars alone have told me*
Where Corinth lies—that I might never see
Cruel fulfilment of that oracle.
So journeying, I came to that same spot
Where, as you say, this King was killed. And now,
This is the truth, Iocasta: when I reached
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The place where three ways meet, I met a herald,
A man as you describe. By violence
The herald and the older man attempted
To push me off the road, I, in my rage,
Struck at the driver, who was hustling me.
The old man, when he saw me level with him,
Taking a double-goad, aimed at my head
A murderous blow. He paid for that, full measure.
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Swiftly I hit him with my staff; he rolled
Out of his carriage, flat upon his back.
I killed them all.—But if, between this stranger
And Laius there was any bond of kinship,*
Who could be in more desperate plight than I?
Who more accursèd in the eyes of Heaven?
For neither citizen nor stranger may
Receive me in his house, nor speak to me,
But he must bar the door. And it was none
But I invoked this curse on my own head!
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And I pollute the bed of him I slew
With my own hands! Say, am I vile? Am I
Not all impure? Seeing I must be exiled,
And even in my exile must not go
And see my parents, nor set foot upon
My native land; or, if I do, I must
Marry my mother, and kill Polybus
My father, who engendered me and reared me.
If one should say it was a cruel god
Brought this upon me, would he not speak right?
No, no, you holy powers above! Let me
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Not see that day! but rather let me pass
Beyond the sight of men, before I see
The stain of such pollution come upon me!
CHORUS. My lord, this frightens me. But you must hope,
Until we hear the tale from him that saw it.
OEDIPUS. That is the only hope that’s left to me;
We must await the coming of the shepherd.
IOCASTA. What do you hope from him, when he is here?
OEDIPUS. I’ll tell you; if his story shall be found
The same as yours, then I am free of guilt.
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IOCASTA. But what have I said of especial note?
OEDIPUS. You said that he reported it was brigands
Who killed the King. If he still speaks of ‘men’,
It was not I; a single man, and ‘men’,
Are not the same. But if he says it was
A traveller journeying alone, why then,
The burden of the guilt must fall on me.
IOCASTA. But that is what he said, I do assure you!
He cannot take it back again! Not I
Alone, but the whole city heard him say it!
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But even if he should revoke the tale
He told before, not even so, my lord,
Will he establish that the King was slain
According to the prophecy. For that was clear:
His son, and mine, should slay him.—He, poor thing,
Was killed himself, and never killed his father.
Or prophecy, I’ll take no notice of it.
OEDIPUS. And that is wise.—But send a man to bring
The shepherd; I would not have that neglected.
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IOCASTA. I’ll send at once.—But come with me; for I
Would not do anything that could displease you.
[Exeunt OEDIPUS and IOCASTA
Strophe 1
CHORUS [sings]. I pray that I may pass my life
In reverent holiness of word and deed.
For there are laws* enthroned above;
Heaven created them,
Olympus was their father,
And mortal men had no part in their birth;
Nor ever shall their power pass from sight
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In dull forgetfulness;
A god* moves in them; he grows not old.
Antistrophe 1
Pride makes the tyrant*—pride of wealth
And power, too great for wisdom and restraint;
For Pride will climb the topmost height;
Then is the man cast down
To uttermost destruction.
There he finds no escape, no resource.
But high contention for the city’s good
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May the gods preserve.
For me—may the gods be my defence!
Strophe 2
If there is one who walks in pride
Of word or deed, and has no fear of Justice,
No reverence for holy shrines—
May utter ruin fall on him!
So may his ill-starred pride be given its reward.
Those who seek dishonourable advantage
And lay
violent hands on holy things
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And do not shun impiety—
Who among these will secure himself from the wrath of God?
If deeds like these are honoured,
Why should I join in the sacred dance?*
Antistrophe 2
No longer shall Apollo’s shrine,
The holy centre of the Earth, receive my worship;
No, nor his seat at Abae,* nor
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The temple of Olympian Zeus,*
If what the god foretold does not come to pass.
Mighty Zeus—if so I should address Thee—
O great Ruler of all things, look on this!
Now are thy oracles* falling into contempt, and men
Deny Apollo’s power.
Worship of the gods is passing away.
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Enter IOCASTA, attended by a girl carrying a wreath and incense
IOCASTA. My lords of Thebes, I have bethought myself
To approach the altars of the gods, and lay
These wreaths on them, and burn this frankincense.
For every kind of terror has laid hold
On Oedipus; his judgement is distracted.
He will not read the future by the past
But yields himself to any who speaks fear.
Since then no words of mine suffice to calm him
I turn to Thee, Apollo—Thou art nearest—
Thy suppliant, with these votive offerings.
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Grant us deliverance and peace, for now
Fear is on all, when we see Oedipus,
The helmsman of the ship, so terrified.
[A reverent silence, while IOCASTA lays the wreath at the altar and sets fire to the incense.]
Enter a SHEPHERD FROM CORINTH
CORINTHIAN. Might I inquire of you where I may find
The royal palace of King Oedipus?
Or, better, where himself is to be found?
CHORUS. There is the palace; himself, Sir, is within,
But here his wife and mother of his children.
CORINTHIAN. Ever may happiness attend on her,
And hers, the wedded wife of such a man.
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IOCASTA. May you enjoy the same; your gentle words
Deserve no less.—Now, Sir, declare your purpose;
With what request, what message have you come?
CORINTHIAN. With good news for your husband and his house.
IOCASTA. What news is this? And who has sent you here?
CORINTHIAN. I come from Corinth, and the news I bring
Will give you joy, though joy be crossed with grief.
IOCASTA. What is this, with its two-fold influence?
CORINTHIAN. The common talk in Corinth is that they
Will call on Oedipus to be their king.
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IOCASTA. What? Does old Polybus no longer reign?
CORINTHIAN. Not now, for Death has laid him in his grave.*
IOCASTA. Go quickly to your master, girl; give him
The news.—You oracles, where are you now?
This is the man whom Oedipus so long
Has shunned, fearing to kill him; now he’s dead,
And killed by Fortune, not by Oedipus.
Enter OEDIPUS
OEDIPUS. My dear Iocasta, tell me, my dear wife,
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Why have you sent to fetch me from the palace?
IOCASTA. Listen to him, and as you hear, reflect
What has become of all those oracles.
OEDIPUS. Who is this man?—What has he to tell me?
IOCASTA. He is from Corinth, and he brings you news
About your father. Polybus is dead.
OEDIPUS. What say you, sir? Tell me the news yourself.
CORINTHIAN. If you would have me first report on this,
I tell you; death has carried him away.
OEDIPUS. By treachery? Or did sickness come to him?
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CORINTHIAN. A small mischance will lay an old man low.
OEDIPUS. Poor Polybus! He died, then, of a sickness?
CORINTHIAN. That, and the measure of his many years.
OEDIPUS. Ah me! Why then, Iocasta, should a man
Regard the Pythian house of oracles,