[Sidenote: vv. 1409-1431]

But what is shame To do should not be spoken. In God's name, Take me somewhere far off and cover me From sight, or slay, or cast me to the sea Where never eye may see me any more. What? Do ye fear to touch a man so sore Stricken? Nay, tremble not. My misery Is mine, and shall be borne by none but me.

LEADER.

Lo, yonder comes for answer to thy prayer Creon, to do and to decree. The care Of all our land is his, now thou art weak.

OEDIPUS.

Alas, what word to Creon can I speak, How make him trust me more? He hath seen of late So vile a heart in me, so full of hate.

Enter CREON.

CREON.

Not to make laughter, Oedipus, nor cast Against thee any evil of the past I seek thee, but ... Ah God! ye ministers, Have ye no hearts? Or if for man there stirs No pity in you, fear at least to call Stain on our Lord the Sun, who feedeth all; Nor show in nakedness a horror such As this, which never mother Earth may touch, Nor God's clean rain nor sunlight. Quick within! Guide him.—The ills that in a house have been They of the house alone should know or hear.

[Sidenote: vv. 1432-1447]

OEDIPUS.

In God's name, since thou hast undone the fear Within me, coming thus, all nobleness, To one so vile, grant me one only grace. For thy sake more I crave it than mine own.

CREON.

Let me first hear what grace thou wouldst be shown.

OEDIPUS.

Cast me from Thebes ... now, quick ... where none may see My visage more, nor mingle words with me.

CREON.

That had I done, for sure, save that I still Tremble, and fain would ask Apollo's will.

OEDIPUS.

His will was clear enough, to stamp the unclean Thing out, the bloody hand, the heart of sin.

CREON.

'Twas thus he seemed to speak; but in this sore Strait we must needs learn surer than before.

OEDIPUS.

Thou needs must trouble God for one so low?

CREON.

Surely; thyself will trust his answer now.

OEDIPUS.

I charge thee more ... and, if thou fail, my sin Shall cleave to thee.... For her who lies within,

[Sidenote: vv. 1448-1472]

Make as thou wilt her burial. 'Tis thy task To tend thine own. But me: let no man ask This ancient city of my sires to give Harbour in life to me. Set me to live On the wild hills and leave my name to those Deeps of Kithairon which my father chose, And mother, for my vast and living tomb. As they, my murderers, willed it, let my doom Find me. For this my very heart doth know, No sickness now, nor any mortal blow, Shall slay this body. Never had my breath Been thus kept burning in the midst of death, Save for some frightful end. So, let my way Go where it listeth. But my children—Nay, Creon, my sons will ask thee for no care. Men are they, and can find them everywhere What life needs. But my two poor desolate Maidens.... There was no table ever set Apart for them, but whatso royal fare I tasted, they were with me and had share In all.... Creon, I pray, forget them not. And if it may be, go, bid them be brought,

[CREON goes and presently returns with the two princesses. OEDIPUS thinks he is there all the time.

That I may touch their faces, and so weep.... Go, Prince. Go, noble heart!... If I might touch them, I should seem to keep And not to have lost them, now mine eyes are gone.... What say I? In God's name, can it be I hear mine own

[Sidenote: vv. 1473-1505]

Beloved ones sobbing? Creon of his grace Hath brought my two, my dearest, to this place. Is it true?

CREON.

'Tis true. I brought them, for in them I know Thy joy is, the same now as long ago.

OEDIPUS.

God bless thee, and in this hard journey give Some better guide than mine to help thee live. Children! Where are ye? Hither; come to these Arms of your ... brother, whose wild offices Have brought much darkness on the once bright eyes Of him who grew your garden; who, nowise Seeing nor understanding, digged a ground The world shall shudder at. Children, my wound Is yours too, and I cannot meet your gaze Now, as I think me what remaining days Of bitter living the world hath for you. What dance of damsels shall ye gather to, What feast of Thebes, but quick ye shall turn home, All tears, or ere the feast or dancers come? And, children, when ye reach the years of love, Who shall dare wed you, whose heart rise above The peril, to take on him all the shame That cleaves to my name and my children's name? God knows, it is enough!... My flowers, ye needs must die, waste things, bereft And fruitless. Creon, thou alone art left Their father now, since both of us are gone Who cared for them. Oh, leave them not alone

[Sidenote: vv. 1505-1518]

To wander masterless, these thine own kin, And beggared. Neither think of them such sin As ye all know in me, but let their fate Touch thee. So young they are, so desolate— Of all save thee. True man, give me thine hand, And promise.

[OEDIPUS and CREON clasp hands.

If your age could understand, Children, full many counsels I could give. But now I leave this one word: Pray to live As life may suffer you, and find a road To travel easier than your father trod.

CREON.

Enough thy heart hath poured its tears; now back into thine house repair.

OEDIPUS.

I dread the house, yet go I must.

CREON.

Fair season maketh all things fair.

OEDIPUS.

One oath then give me, and I go.

CREON.

Name it, and I will answer thee.

OEDIPUS.

To cast me from this land.

[Sidenote: vv. 1519-1523]

CREON.

A gift not mine but God's thou askest me.

OEDIPUS.

I am a thing of God abhorred.

CREON.

The more, then, will he grant thy prayer.

OEDIPUS.

Thou givest thine oath?

CREON.

I see no light; and, seeing not, I may not swear.

OEDIPUS.

Then take me hence. I care not.

CREON.

Go in peace, and give these children o'er.

OEDIPUS.

Ah no! Take not away my daughters!

[They are taken from him.

CREON.

Seek not to be master more. Did not thy masteries of old forsake thee when the end was near?

[Sidenote: vv. 1524-1530]

CHORUS.

Ye citizens of Thebes, behold; 'tis Oedipus that passeth here, Who read the riddle-word of Death, and mightiest stood of mortal men, And Fortune loved him, and the folk that saw him turned and looked again. Lo, he is fallen, and around great storms and the outreaching sea! Therefore, O Man, beware, and look toward the end of things that be, The last of sights, the last of days; and no man's life account as gain Ere the full tale be finished and the darkness find him without pain.

[OEDIPUS is led into the house and the doors close on him.



NOTES TO

OEDIPUS, KING OF THEBES

P. 4, l. 21: Dry Ash of Ismenus.]—Divination by burnt offerings was practised at an altar of Apollo by the river Ismenus in Thebes.

Observe how many traits Oedipus retains of the primitive king, who was at once chief and medicine-man and god. The Priest thinks it necessary to state explicitly that he does not regard Oedipus as a god, but he is clearly not quite like other men. And it seems as if Oedipus himself realised in this scene that the oracle from Delphi might well demand the king's life. Cf. p. 6, "what deed of mine, what bitter task, May save my city"; p. 7, "any fear for mine own death." This thought, present probably in more minds than his, greatly increases the tension of the scene. Cf. Anthropology and the Classics, pp. 74-79.]

P. 7, l. 87, Message of joy.]—Creon says this for the sake of the omen. The first words uttered at such a crisis would be ominous and tend to fulfil themselves.]

Pp. 13-16, ll. 216-275. The long cursing speech of Oedipus.]—Observe that this speech is broken into several divisions, Oedipus at each point expecting an answer and receiving none. Thus it is not mere declamation; it involves action and reaction between a speaker and a crowd.—Every reader will notice how full it is of "tragic irony." Almost every paragraph carries with it some sinister meaning of which the speaker is unconscious. Cf. such phrases as "if he tread my hearth," "had but his issue been more fortunate," "as I would for mine own father," and of course the whole situation.

P. 25, l. 437, Who were they?]—This momentary doubt of Oedipus, who of course regarded himself as the son of Polybus, King of Corinth, is explained later (p. 46, l. 780).

Pp. 29 ff. The Creon scene.]—The only part of the play which could possibly be said to flag. Creon's defence, p. 34, "from probabilities," as the rhetoricians would have called it, seems less interesting to us than it probably did to the poet's contemporaries. It is remarkably like Hippolytus's defence (pp. 52 f. of my translation), and probably one was suggested by the other. We cannot be sure which was the earlier play.

The scene serves at least to quicken the pace of the drama, to bring out the impetuous and somewhat tyrannical nature of Oedipus, and to prepare the magnificent entrance of Jocasta.

P. 36, l. 630, Thebes is my country.]—It must be remembered that to the Chorus Creon is a real Theban, Oedipus a stranger from Corinth.

P. 41, Conversation of Oedipus and Jocasta.]—The technique of this wonderful scene, an intimate self-revealing conversation between husband and wife about the past, forming the pivot of the play, will remind a modern reader of Ibsen.

P. 42, l. 718.]—Observe that Jocasta does not tell the whole truth. It was she herself who gave the child to be killed (p. 70, l. 1173).

P. 42, l. 730, Crossing of Three Ways.]—Cross roads always had dark associations. This particular spot was well known to tradition and is still pointed out. "A bare isolated hillock of grey stone stands at the point where our road from Daulia meets the road to Delphi and a third road that stretches to the south.... The road runs up a frowning pass between Parnassus on the right hand and the spurs of the Helicon range on the left. Away to the south a wild and desolate valley opens, running up among the waste places of Helicon, a scene of inexpressible grandeur and desolation" (Jebb, abridged).

P. 44, l. 754, Who could bring, &c.]—Oedipus of course thought he had killed them all. See his next speech.

P. 51.]—Observe the tragic effect of this prayer. Apollo means to destroy Jocasta, not to save her; her prayer is broken across by the entry of the Corinthian Stranger, which seems like a deliverance but is really a link in the chain of destruction. There is a very similar effect in Sophocles' Electra, 636-659, Clytaemnestra's prayer; compare also the prayers to Cypris in Euripides' Hippolytus.

P. 51, l. 899.]—Abae was an ancient oracular shrine in Boeotia; Olympia in Elis was the seat of the Olympian Games and of a great Temple of Zeus.

P. 52, l. 918, O Slayer of the Wolf, O Lord of Light.]—The names Lykeios, Lykios, &c., seem to have two roots, one meaning "Wolf" and the other "Light."

P. 56, l. 987, Thy father's tomb Like light across our darkness.]—This ghastly line does not show hardness of heart, it shows only the terrible position in which Oedipus and Jocasta are. Naturally Oedipus would give thanks if his father was dead. Compare his question above, p. 54, l. 960, "Not murdered?"—He cannot get the thought of the fated murder out of his mind.

P. 57, l. 994.]—Why does Oedipus tell the Corinthian this oracle, which he has kept a secret even from his wife till to-day?—Perhaps because, if there is any thought of his going back to Corinth, his long voluntary exile must be explained. Perhaps, too, the secret possesses his mind so overpoweringly that it can hardly help coming out.

Pp. 57, 58, ll. 1000-1020.]—It is natural that the Corinthian hesitates before telling a king that he is really not of royal birth.

Pp. 64, 65, ll. 1086-1109.]—This joyous Chorus strikes a curious note. Of course it forms a good contrast with what succeeds, but how can the Elders take such a serenely happy view of the discovery that Oedipus is a foundling just after they have been alarmed at the exit of Jocasta? It seems as if the last triumphant speech of Oedipus, "fey" and almost touched with megalomania as it was, had carried the feeling of the Chorus with it.

P. 66, l. 1122.]—Is there any part in any tragedy so short and yet so effective as that of this Shepherd?

P. 75, l. 1264, Like a dead bird.]—The curious word, [Greek: empeplegmenen], seems to be taken from Odyssey xxii. 469, where it is applied to birds caught in a snare. As to the motives of Oedipus, his first blind instinct to kill Jocasta as a thing that polluted the earth; when he saw her already dead, a revulsion came.

P. 76, ll. 1305 ff.]—Observe how a climax of physical horror is immediately veiled and made beautiful by lyrical poetry. Sophocles does not, however, carry this plan of simply flooding the scene with sudden beauty nearly so far as Euripides does. See Hipp., p. 39; Trojan Women, p. 51.

P. 83, ll. 1450 ff., Set me to live on the wild hills.]—These lines serve to explain the conception, existing in the poet's own time, of Oedipus as a daemon or ghost haunting Mount Kithairon.

P. 86, l. 1520, Creon.]—Amid all Creon's whole-hearted forgiveness of Oedipus and his ready kindness there are one or two lines of his which strike a modern reader as tactless if not harsh. Yet I do not think that Sophocles meant to produce that effect. At the present day it is not in the best manners to moralise over a man who is down, any more than it is the part of a comforter to expound and insist upon his friend's misfortunes. But it looks as if ancient manners expected, and even demanded, both. Cf. the attitude of Theseus to Adrastus in Eur., Suppliants.

THE END