Chapter XI: Part 11

ANT. Say wherefore dost thou crave with such desire The clearness of an undistracted mind?

OED. I would fully render from a grateful soul The boon I promised, when I gained my suit.

CHORUS (_looking towards Athens_). Come, my chief! come with speed! Or, if haply at hand, II 2 On the height where the curved altars stand, Thou art hallowing with oxen in sacrifice slain Yonder shrine of Poseidon, dread lord of the main, Hie thee hither! Be swift! The blind stranger intends To thee, to thy friends, To thy city, for burdens imposed, just amends. Haste thee, King! Hear our cry!

_Enter_ THESEUS.

THE. Why sounds again from hence your joint appeal, Wherein the stranger's voice is loudly heard? Is it some lightning-bolt new-fallen from Zeus, Or cloud-born hail that is come rattling down? From Heavens so black with storm nought can surprise.

OED. Prince, thou art come to my desire. Some God Hath happily directed this thy way.

THE. What is befallen? Son of Laius, tell!

OED. My path slopes downward, and before my death I would confirm to Athens and to thee My promised boon.

THE. What sign dost thou perceive That proves thine end so near?

OED. The Gods themselves With herald voices are proclaiming it, Nought failing of the fore-appointed signs.

THE. What are these tokens, aged monarch, say?

OED. The loud continual thunder, and the darts That flash in volleys from the unconquered hand.

THE. I may not doubt thee; for thy speech, I feel, Hath ample witness of prophetic power. What must I do?

OED. I will instruct thee now, Aegeus' great son! in rites that shall remain An ageless treasure to thy countrymen. I will presently, with no man guiding me, Conduct thee to the spot, where I must die. This is thy secret, not to be revealed To any one of men, or where 'tis hid Or whereabout it lies. So through all time This neighbouring[3] mound shall yield thee mightier aid Than many a shield and help of alien spears. More shalt thou learn, too sacred to divulge, When yonder thou art come thyself alone. Since to none other of these citizens Nor even unto the children of my love May I disclose it. 'Tis for thee to keep Inviolate while thou livest, and when thy days Have ending, breathe it to the foremost man Alone, and he in turn unto the next Successively. So shalt thou ever hold Athens unravaged by the dragon brood[4]. Cities are numberless, and any one May lightly insult even those who dwell secure. For the eye of Heaven though late yet surely sees When, casting off respect, men turn to crime. Erechtheus' heir! let that be far from thee! A warning needless to a man so wise! Now go we--for this leading of the God Is urgent--to the place, nor loiter more. This way, my children! follow me! For I Am now your guide, as ye were mine. Come on! Nay, touch me not, but leave me of myself To find the holy sepulchre, wherein This form must rest beneath Athenian soil. Come this way! Come! This way are leading me Guide Hermes and the Queen of realms below. O Light, all dark to me! In former time Bright seemed thy shining! Now thy latest ray Sheds vital influence o'er this frame. I go To hide the close of my disastrous life With Hades. Kind Athenian friend, farewell! May'st thou, thy followers, and this glorious land Be happy, and in your endless happiness Remember him who blessed you in his death. [_Exeunt_

CHORUS. Prince of the Powers Unseen, 1 Durst we with prayers adore Thee and thy viewless Queen, Your aid, Aidoneus, would our lips implore! By no harsh-sounding doom Let him we love descend, With calm and cloudless end, In deep Plutonian dwelling evermore To abide among the people of the tomb! Long worn with many an undeserved woe, Just Gods will give thee glory there below.

Dread Forms, who haunt this floor, 2 And thou, the Unconquered Beast, That hugely liest at rest By the dim shining adamantine door, --Still from thy cavernous lair Gnarling, so legends tell, A tameless guard of Hell,-- Mayest thou this once thy vigilance forbear, And leave large room for him now entering there. Hear us, great Son of Darkness and the Deep; On thee we call, God of the dreamless sleep!

_Enter_ Messenger.

MESS. Athenian citizens, my briefest tale Were to say singly, Oedipus is gone; But to describe the scene enacted yonder Craves no brief speech, nor was the action brief.

CH. Then he is gone! Poor man!

MESS. Know it once for all, He hath left eternally the light of day.

CH. Poor soul! What? Ended he with peace divine?

MESS. Ay, there is the main marvel. How he moved From hence, thou knowest, for thou too wert here, And saw'st that of his friends none guided him, But he they loved was leader to them all. Now, when he came to the steep pavement, rooted With adamant foundation deep in Earth, On one of many paths he took his stand Near the stone basin, where Peirithoues And Theseus graved their everlasting league. There, opposite the mass of Laurian ore, Turned from the hollow pear-tree and the tomb Of marble, he sate down, and straight undid His travel-soiled attire, then called aloud On both his children, and bade some one fetch Pure water from a running stream. And they, Hasting together to the neighbouring hill Of green Demeter, goddess of the Spring, Brought back their sire's commission speedily, And bathed, and clothed him with the sacred robe. When he was satisfied, and nothing now Remained undone of all he bade them do, The God of darkness thundered, and the maids Stood horror-stricken on hearing; then together Fell at their father's knees and wept and wailed Loudly and long with beating of the breast. He, when that sound of sorrow pierced his ear, Caressed them in his arms and said:--'My daughters, From this day forth you have no more a father. All that was mine is ended, and no longer Shall ye continue your hard ministry Of labour for my life.--And yet, though hard, Not unendurable, since all the toil Was rendered light through love, which ye can never Receive on earth so richly, as from him Bereaved of whom ye now shall live forlorn.' Such was the talk, mingled with sobs and crying, As each clung fast to each. But when they came To an end of weeping and those sounds were stilled, First all was silent; then a sudden voice Hurried him onward, making each man's hair Bristle on end with force of instant fear. Now here, now there, not once but oftentimes, A God called loudly, 'Oedipus, Oedipus! Why thus delay our going? This long while We are stayed for and thou tarriest. Come away!' He, when he knew the summons of the God, Gave word for royal Theseus to go near; And when he came, said: 'Friend for ever kind, Reach thy right hand, I pray thee (that first pledge) To these my children:--daughters, yours to him!-- And give thy sacred word that thou wilt never Betray these willingly: but still perform All that thou mayest with true thought for their good.' He, with grand calmness like his noble self, Promised on oath to keep this friendly bond. And when he had done so, Oedipus forthwith Stroking his children with his helpless hands Spake thus:--'My daughters, you must steel your hearts To noble firmness, and depart from hence, Nor ask to see or hear forbidden things. Go, go at once! Theseus alone must stay Sole rightful witness of these mysteries.' Those accents were the last we all might hear. Then, following the two maids, with checkless tears And groans we took our way. But by and by, At distance looking round, we saw,--not him, Who was not there,--but Theseus all alone Holding his hand before his eyes, as if Some apparition unendurable Had dazed his vision. In a little while, We marked him making reverence in one prayer To the Earth, and to the home of Gods on high. But by what fate He perished, mortal man, Save Theseus, none can say. No lightning-flash From heaven, no tempest rising from the deep, Caused his departure in that hour, but either Some messenger from heaven, or, from beneath, The lower part of Earth, where comes no pain, Opening kindly to receive him in. Not to be mourned, nor with a tearful end Of sickness was he taken from the Earth, But wondrously, beyond recorded fate. If any deem my words unwise, I care not In that man's judgement to be counted wise.

CH. Where are those maidens and their escort? Say.

MESS. They are not far off, but here. The voice of weeping Betokens all too plainly their approach.

ANT. Alas! How manifold, the inheritance of woe Drawn from the troubled fountain of our birth! Indelible, ineradicable grief! For him erewhile We had labour infinite and unrelieved, And now in his last hour we have to tell Of sights and sorrows beyond thought.

CH. How then?

ANT. Friends, ye might understand.

CH. Speak. Is he gone?

ANT. Gone! Even as heart could wish, had wishes power. How else, when neither war, nor the wide sea Encountered him, but viewless realms enwrapt him, Wafted away to some mysterious doom? Whence on our hearts a horror of night is fallen. Woe 's me! For whither wandering shall we find Hard livelihood, by land or over sea?

ISM. I know not. Let dark Hades take me off To lie in death with mine age honoured sire! Death were far better than my life to be.

CH. Noblest of maidens, ye must learn to bear Meekly the sending of the Gods. Be not On fire with grief. Your state is well assured.

ANT. If to be thus is well, then may one long For evil to return. Things nowise dear Were dear to me, whiles I had him to embrace. O father! loved one! that art wearing now The eternal robe of darkness underground, Old as thou wert, think not this maid and I Will cease from loving thee!

CH. He met his doom.

ANT. He met the doom he longed for.

CH. How was that?

ANT. In the strange land where he desired to die He died. He rests in shadow undisturbed; Nor hath he left a tearless funeral. For these mine eyes, father, unceasingly Mourn thee with weeping, nor can I subdue This ever-mounting sorrow for thy loss. Ah me! Would thou hadst not desired to die Here among strangers, but alone with thee There, in the desert, I had seen thee die!

ISM. Unhappy me! What destiny, dear girl, Awaits us both, bereaved and fatherless?

CH. His end was fortunate. He rests in peace. Dear maidens, then desist from your complaint. Sorrow is swift to overtake us all.

ANT. Thither again, dear girl, let us go speedily!

ISM. Say, for what end?

ANT. Desire possesses me--

ISM. Whereof?

ANT. To see the darksome dwelling-place--

ISM. Of whom?

ANT. Woe is me! Of him, our sire!

ISM. But how Can this be lawful? Seest thou not?

ANT. How say'st thou? Why this remonstrance?

ISM. Seest thou not, again, He hath no grave and no man buried him.

ANT. Take me but where he lies. Then slay me there.

ISM. Ah! woe is me, doubly unfortunate, Forlorn and destitute, whither henceforth For wretched comfort must we go?

CH. Fear nought, Dear maidens!

ISM. Where shall we find refuge?

CH. Here, Long since, your refuge is secure.

ANT. How so?

CH. No harm shall touch you.

ANT. I know that.

CH. What then Further engrosseth thee?

ANT. How to get home I know not.

CH. Seek not for it.

ANT. Weariness O'erweighs me.

CH. Hath it not before oppressed thee?

ANT. Before, it vexed me; now it overwhelms.

CH. A mighty sea of misery is your lot.

ANT. Woe is me! O Zeus! And whither must we go? Unto what doom doth my Fate drive me now?

CH. Children, lament no longer. 'Tis not well To mourn 'mongst those with whom the honoured dead Hath left the heirloom of his benison.

_Enter_ THESEUS.

ANT. Theseus, behold us falling at thy feet.

THE. What boon, my children, are ye bent to obtain?

ANT. Our eyes would see our father's burial-place.

THE. 'Tis not permitted to go near that spot.

ANT. O Athens' sovereign lord, what hast thou said?

THE. Dear children, 'twas your father's spoken will That no man should approach his resting-place, Nor human voice should ever violate The mystery of the tomb wherein he lies. He promised, if I truly kept this word, My land would evermore be free from harm. The power which no man may transgress and live, The oath of Zeus, bore witness to our troth.

ANT. His wishes are enough. Then, pray thee, send An escort to convey us to our home, Primeval Thebes, if so we may prevent The death that menaces our brethren there.

THE. That will I; and in all that I may do To prosper you and solace him beneath,-- Who even now passes to eternity,-- I must not falter. Come, lament no more. His destiny hath found a perfect end.

* * * * *

NOTES

SOME PROPER NAMES

AIDONEUS, Hades or Pluto. ARES, The War-God, a destructive Power. DEO, Demeter. ERINYES, the Furies. HELIOS, The Sun-God. RHEA, the Mother of the Gods. THEBE, the town of Thebes personified.

ANTIGONE.

1 P. 6, l. 126. _The serpent._ The dragon, the emblem of Thebes.

2 l. 130. _Idly caparisoned._ Reading [Greek: huperopliais].

3 P. 7, l. 140. _Self-harnessed helper._ An allusion to the [Greek:
seiraphoros], or side trace-horse, in a chariot-race.

4 P. 13, l. 342. _Children of the steed._ Mules are so-called by
Homer.

5 P. 30, l. 955. _Dryas' hasty son._ Lycurgus. See Homer, _Iliad_, vi.

6 l. 971. _Phineus' two sons._ Idothea, the second wife of Phineus,
persecuted his two sons by Cleopatra, a daughter of Boreas, whom he
had repudiated and immured. The Argonauts saw them in the condition
here described.

7 P. 34, l. 1120. _The all-gathering bosom wide._ The plain of
Eleusis, where mysteries were held in honour of Deo or Demeter.

8 P. 39, l. 1301. Reading [Greek: *oxuthekto ... peri*xiphei].

9 l. 1303. _The glorious bed of buried Megareus._ Megareus, son of
Creon and Eurydice, sacrificed himself for Thebes by falling into a
deep cave called the Dragon's Lair.

AIAS.

1 P. 48, l. 172. _Her blood-stained temple._ In some of her temples
Artemis was worshipped with sacrifices of bulls, and, according to
an old tradition, also with human sacrifices.

2 P. 49. l. 190. _The brood of Sisyphus._ Amongst his enemies,
Odysseus was reputed to be the offspring of Sisyphus and not of
Laertes.

3 P. 59, l. 574. _Named of the shield._ Eurysakes means Broadshield.

4 P. 71, l. 1011. _Who smiles no more._ Compare a fragment of the
_Teucer_ of Sophocles (519, Nauck),

'How vain then, O my son,
How vain was my delight in thy proud fame,
While I supposed thee living! The fell Fury
From her dark shroud beguiled me with sweet lies.'

KING OEDIPUS.

1 P. 86, l. 36. _That stern songstress._ The Sphinx. See also
'minstrel hound.'

2 P. 96, l. 402. _Will hunt | Pollution forth._ The party cry of
'driving out the pollution' was raised against the Alcmaeonidae and
other families in Athens, who were supposed to lie under a
traditional curse.

3 P. 99. l. 525. _Who durst declare it._ [Greek: Tou pros d'
ephanthe]. Though the emphatic order of words is unusual, this seems
more forcible than the var. [Greek: toupos d' ephanthe].

4 P. 102, l. 625. [CR. _You'll ne'er relent nor listen to my plea._] A
line has here been lost in the original.

5 P. 113, l. 1025. _Your purchase or your child?_ Oedipus is not to be
supposed to have weighed the import of the Corinthian shepherd's
words, 'Nor I nor he,' &c., _supra_.

6 P. 128. l. 1526. _His envied fortune mounted beaming._ Reading
[Greek: en zelo politon] (with 2 MSS) and [Greek: epiphlegon] from
my conjecture.

ELECTRA.

1 P. 131, l. 6. _The wolf-slaying God._ Apollo Lyceius, from _Lycos_,
a wolf.

2 P. 140, l. 363. _Ne'er be it mine,_ &c. Reading [Greek: toume me
*lupoun monon | boskema].

3 P. 143, l. 451. _That lingers on my brow._ A somewhat forced
interpretation of [Greek: tende lipare tricha]. Possibly [Greek:
tend' alamprunton tricha]: 'And this--unkempt and poor--yet give it
to him.'

4 P. 144, l. 504. _Chariot course of Pelops, full of toil._ Pelops won
his bride Hippodameia by bribing Myrtilus, his charioteer; whom, in
order to conceal his fault, he flung into the sea.

5 P. 150, l. 722. _That pulled the side-rope._ See on Ant., p. 7, l.
140.

6 l. 151. _In letting loose again the left-hand rein._ The near
horse (see above) knows his business, and, when the slackening of
the rein shows that the goal is cleared, makes eagerly for the
direct downward course. But if he is let go an instant too soon, he
brings the car into contact with the stone.

7 l. 746. _Caught in the reins._ In an ancient chariot-race, the
reins were often passed round the body of the charioteer, so as to
give more purchase. See this described in the _Hippolytus_ of
Euripides.

8 P. 154, l. 837. _One in a woman's toils | was tangled._ Amphiaraus,
betrayed by Eriphyle for a necklace.

9 P. 160, l. 1085. _Through homeless misery._ I read [Greek: aion'
aoikon] for [Greek: aiona koinon] of the MSS.

10 l. 1086. _Purging the sin and shame._ I read [Greek: kathagnisasa]
for the impossible [Greek: kathoplisasa].

11 P. 172, l. 1478. _Thou hast been taking,_ &c. Otherwise, reading
with the MSS [Greek: zon tois thanousin ounek' antaudas isa], _At
point to die, thou art talking with the dead._

TRACHINIAN MAIDENS.

1 P. 180, l. 104. _Bride of battle-wooing._ 'Deanira' signifies 'Cause
of strife to heroes.'

2 P. 185, l. 303. _Ne'er may I see thee._ The Spartan captives from
Pylos had lately been at Athens, and some of them were reputed
descendants of Hyllus, the son of Deanira.

3 P. 195, l. 654. _Frees him for ever._ His last contest brings his
final deliverance.

4 P. 201, l. 860. _From Love's dread minister,_ i.e. from Aphrodite,
working through the concealed and silent Iole.

PHILOCTETES.

1 P. 222, l. 194. _Through Chrysa's cruel sting._ Chrysa was an island
near the Troad, sacred to a goddess of the name. Her precinct was
guarded by a serpent, whose bite, from which Philoctetes suffered,
was incurable. See below p. 254, l. 1327.

2 P. 226, l. 344. _The fosterer of my sire._ Phoenix, the tutor of
Achilles.

3 P. 227, l. 351. _For I ne'er | Had seen him._ The legend which makes
Achilles go to Troy from Scyros is probably ignored.

4 l. 384. _Vile offset of an evil tree._ Alluding to the supposed
birth of Odysseus. See on Ai., l. 190, p. 60 [sic. should be p. 49].

5 P. 230, l. 489. _Of old Chalcodon._ One of the former generation, a
friend and neighbour of Poeas the father of Philoctetes.

6 P. 237, l. 729. _Of him, whose home is in the skies._ Heracles,
imagined as transfigured on Mount Oeta.

7 P. 254, l. 1328. _The sky-roofed fold._ The open precinct that was
sacred to the goddess, merely surrounded by a wall. See above, note
on p. 222, l. 194.

8 P. 255, l. 1333. _Phoebus' child._ Asclepius.

OEDIPUS AT COLONOS.

1 P. 265, l. 158. _Mingles with draughts,_ &c. Where libations are
mixed of water and honey.

2 P. 288, l. 888. _The God._ Poseidon. See above, p. 282 [sic. should
be p. 262], l. 55.

3 P. 306, l. 1525. _neighbouring._ [Greek: geitonon] (the participle).

4 l. 1534. _The dragon-brood._ The Cadmeian race at Thebes, sprung
from the dragon's teeth sown by Cadmus.

N.B.--For other questionable points the student is referred to the small edition of _Sophocles_, by Campbell and Abbott (2 vols., Clarendon Press, 1900).

Oxford: HORACE HART, Printer to the University.

End of Project Gutenberg's The Seven Plays in English Verse, by Sophocles