Chapter IV: Act III: Enter Creon, returned from the rites of necromancy

_Oedipus_: Although thy face displays the marks of grief,
Declare whose death an angry heaven demands. 510

_Creon_: Thou bid'st me speak where fear would silence keep.

_Oedipus_: If Thebes, to ruin falling, move thee not,
Regard the scepter of thy kindred house.

_Creon_: Thou wilt repent the knowledge which thou seek'st.

_Oedipus_: A useless cure for ills is ignorance. 515
And wilt thou still obstruct the public weal?

_Creon_: Where foul the cure, 'tis grievous to be cured.

_Oedipus_: Thy tidings speak; or, by thy pains subdued,
Thou soon shalt know what angered kings can do.

_Creon_: Kings hate the words whose speech they would compel. 520

_Oedipus_: In hades shalt thou pay thy life for all,
Unless thou tell the secrets of the fates.

_Creon_: Nay, let me hold my peace. No smaller boon
Was ever sought.

_Oedipus_: More often than by speech,
Have kingdoms by the boon of silence fall'n. 525

_Creon_: When silence is denied what can be given?

_Oedipus_: He sins who silence holds when speech is best.

_Creon_: Then hear in peace the words which I must speak.

_Oedipus_: Was ever punishment for speech compelled?

_Creon_: Afar from Thebes there is a frowning grove 530
Near the well-watered vale of Dirce's fount.
And there a cypress lifts its giant head
And holds within its evergreen embrace
The trees around. Here stands an ancient oak
And spreads its branches dark with clustering mould.
One side is torn by time's destructive hand; 535
The rest, with roots decayed and falling, hangs
Supported on a neighbor's trunk. Here stand
The bitter laurel, rustling linden trees,
The myrtle, and the alder destined soon
To sweep its oarage on the boundless sea.
Midway, a mighty pine its smooth trunk lifts 540
Against the rays of Phoebus and the winds,
And with its heavy shade it overwhelms
The lesser trees; for, with its spreading boughs,
It stands, the giant guardian of the wood.
Beneath this pine there springs a gloomy pool 545
That never saw the sun nor light of day.
An oozy swamp surrounds the sluggish pool.
Here did the agéd priest direct his steps;
Nor was there need to wait; the gloomy spot
Supplied the shades of night. A trench is dug,
Where brands are kindled, pluck'd from funeral pyres. 550
The priest is shrouded in a mourning pall,
And waves the bough; his dark robe sweeps the earth.
And now, in squalid garb and wrapped in gloom,
The priest advances, with his hoary locks 555
Encircled by the yew-tree's deadly leaves.
Black sheep and sable oxen, backward driven,[3]
Are sacrificed. The fire devours the food,
And the living entrails quiver in the flames.
The shades he calls, and him who rules the shades,
And him who guards the dark Lethaean stream. 560
A magic rune he mutters o'er and o'er
And fiercely chants the charm which either lures
The shifting ghosts, or forces them to come.
He burns the victims whole, and fills the trench
With sacrificial blood, and snowy milk, 565
And, with his left hand pouring, mingles wine;
Again he chants, and, bending to the earth,
With stronger words and frantic, summons up
The manes. Loudly bayed the hounds of hell;
And thrice the hollows gave a mournful sound; 570
The whole earth trembled and the solid ground
Was rent asunder. Then the priest exclaimed:
"I have prevailed, for strong the words I spoke;
The deep and gloomy realm of chaos yawns,
And for the dwellers in the home of Dis
A way is opened to the world of light."
The whole wood shrank away; its leaves erect
In horror stood, the mighty trunks were split, 575
And all the grove was smitten with amaze.
The frightened earth crouched back with hollow groans,
As if unwillingly she saw the deeps
Of Acheron assailed; or else herself,
That back to life the dead might find a way,
With crashing sound her close-wrought barriers burst; 580
Or threefold Cerberus in angry rage
Clanked loud his heavy chains. Then suddenly
The earth yawned wide, and at our very feet
A deep abyss appeared. I saw, myself,
The sluggish pools amidst the dusky shades;
I saw the shadowy gods, and that black gloom
No earthly night can give. At that dread sight
My blood ran cold and froze within my veins. 585
And then there hurried forth a dreadful band,
And stood in armed array, that viper brood,
The troop of brothers sprung from dragon's teeth;
And that fell pestilence, the curse of Thebes.
Then grim Erinys raised her piercing cry,
Blind Fury, Dread, and all the ghastly forms 590
Which spawn and lurk within the endless shades:
Grief, in her madness, tearing out her hair;
Disease, scarce holding up her weary head;
Age, burdened with itself, and brooding Fear.
Our spirits died within us at the sight. 595
Even the prophet's daughter stood amazed,
Though well she knew her father's mystic arts.
But he, undaunted, since he saw them not,
Convoked the bloodless throng of gloomy Dis.
Like clouds the shadowy forms come trooping up,
And snuff the air of unrestricted heaven.
Not lofty Eryx in his mountain glades 600
As many falling leaves, nor Hybla's slopes
As many flowers produce, in sunny spring,
When greedy bees in teeming bunches swarm;
As many waves break not upon the shore;
As many birds deserting Strymon's streams,
Exchange not wintry blasts and Arctic snows, 605
And seek the milder valley of the Nile;
As were the shades the prophet summoned forth.
In eager haste the shivering spirits seek
The hiding-places of the leafy grove.
From out the cave, his right hand by the horns 610
A raging bull restraining, Zethus came,
And next Amphion, with that famous shell
Whose magic strains insensate rocks allured.
Here haughty Niobe, in safety now,
Amongst her children lifts her head in scorn
And proudly counts her shades. And worse than she, 615
That mother, mad Agave, next appears,
With all the impious band who rent the king.
Then Pentheus' self, all torn and bleeding, comes,
In rage pursuing those wild Bacchanals.
At length, when often summoned, Laius comes
In shame, and, skulking, flees the shadowy throng, 620
And hides himself away; but still the seer,
With unrelenting purpose pressing on,
Repeats his strong compelling exorcisms,
Until he brings the ghost to open view.
I shudder as I tell it. There he stood,
A fearful sight, his body drenched with blood,
His matted locks o'erspread with horrid filth. 625
And now, with raging tongue, the specter spoke:
"O wild and savage house of Cadmus, thou
Who ever dost rejoice in brother's blood!
The thyrsus wave, in madness rend thy sons.
The greatest crime of Thebes is mother's love.
O fatherland, 'tis not the wrath of heaven, 630
But sin of man by which thou art undone.
No plague-fraught south wind with its deadly blast,
Nor yet the parchéd earth with its dry breath,
Is harming thee; but 'tis thy bloody king,
Who, as the prize of savage murder done,
Hath seized his father's scepter and his bed. 635
An impious son (but far more impious,
The mother who in most unhallowed womb
Bore children once again), he forced his way
Back to his source of life, and there begot
Upon his mother offspring horrible,
Got brothers to himself, a custom base,
Whence e'en the very beasts of prey are free. 640
Oh, base entanglement, more monstrous far
Than that fell Sphinx which he himself hath slain.
Thee, thee, who dost the bloody scepter hold,
Thee will thy sire, still unavenged, pursue,
With all thy town; and with me will I bring
Th' attendant fury of my wedding night--
I'll bring her with her loud-resounding[4] lash! 645
Thy house, polluted, will I overthrow,
And thy Penates will I trample down
In fratricidal strife! Then quickly drive
Thy king, O Thebes, from out thy boundaries!
For when his baleful step shall leave the land,
In vernal green shall it renew itself, 650
The air shall give again pure springs of life,
And to the woods their beauty shall return.
Destruction, Pestilence and Death, Distress,
Disease, Despair--his fitting company--
Shall all depart with him. And he, indeed,
Will seek with eager haste to flee his realm,
But him will I hedge round with barriers, 655
And hold him back. Uncertain of his way,
And with his staff to guide his faltering steps,
He'll creep along his sad and darkened path.
Do ye the land deny him; I, his sire,
Will take away from him the light of heaven."

_Oedipus:_ A chilling tremor penetrates my bones;
The very thing which I have feared to do, 660
They say that I have done it. But the charge
That in unholy wedlock I am joined,
My mother Merope refutes, for she
To Polybus, my sire, is wedded still;
And my hands from stain of father's blood are clean,
Since Polybus in safety lives and reigns.
Since both my parents free me from the guilt
Of murder and that base, incestuous crime,
What room is there for accusation more?
And as for Laius, Thebes his death deplored 665
Long 'ere I set my feet upon her soil.
What shall we say then? Was the seer deceived,
Or does the hand of God afflict the state?
No! now we see these two confederates
Deep in a crafty plot: that priest of thine
With lying tongue pretends the will of heaven,
And promises my sovereignty to thee. 670

_Creon:_ Would I expel my sister from the throne?
But if that sacred fealty which I owe
Unto my kindred house restrained me not,
Yet fortune would herself affright me sore,
For with care and danger is she ever fraught.
But be thyself content to lay aside,
While still thou safely mayst, the cares of state, 675
Lest,[5] borne too long, they may o'erwhelm thee quite.
In a humbler state more safely shalt thou dwell.

_Oedipus:_ And dost thou bid me, then, of mine own will
To lay aside the heavy cares of state?

_Creon:_ Thus would I counsel those to whom the way
Is open yet to choose the path he will. 680
But the lot that fortune sends thee thou must bear.

_Oedipus:_ When one desires to reign, 'tis ever thus,
That humble life he praises, and the joys
Of ease and sleep are ever in his mouth.
A peaceful face oft hides a restless heart.

_Creon:_ Does my long loyalty defend me not? 685

_Oedipus:_ To traitors, loyalty's a cloak to crime.

_Creon:_ Free from the burdens of a kingly state,
I still enjoy the fruits of royalty;
My house is honored by our citizens;
And day by day thy royal gifts o'erflow,
And fill my kindred home with luxury. 690
Rich food and clothing, gifts of every sort,
And safety flow to many through my aid.
Why should I think aught lacking to my lot?

_Oedipus:_ Because there is a lack. Prosperity
Ne'er halts at any bounds.

_Creon:_ And shall I fall, 695
Prejudged, and have no right to plead my cause?

_Oedipus:_ Hadst thou consideration for _my_ life?
Did old Tiresias listen to my cause?
And yet I am condemned. My pattern, thou;
I do but follow in the way thou lead'st.

_Creon:_ But what if I am guiltless?

_Oedipus:_ Kings are wont
To fear alike the doubtful and the true.

_Creon:_ Who quakes at empty fears, hath true in store. 700

_Oedipus_ Who in a fault is taken, and forgiven,
Is filled with hate. Let all such dubious faith
Be far from me.

_Creon:_ But thus is hatred bred.

_Oedipus:_ Nay, he who feareth hatred overmuch,
Knows not the art of ruling like a king;
For 'tis by fear that kings are guarded most.

_Creon:_ Who holds the scepter with tyrannic sway, 705
Doth live in fear of those who fear his power;
For terror ever doth return to him
Who doth inspire it.

_Oedipus_ [_to attendants_]: Hence, away with him;
Deep in some rocky dungeon let him stay,
While I unto the palace take my way.

[Creon _is led away by the attendants, while_ Oedipus _retires into the palace._]

_Chorus:_ Not thou the cause of these our ills;
And not on thy account hath fate
Attacked the house of Labdacus; 710
But 'tis the ancient wrath of heaven
That still pursues our race.
Castalia's grove once lent its shade
Unto the Tyrian wanderer,
And Dirce gave her cooling waves,
What time the great Agenor's son, 715
O'er all the earth the stolen prey
Of Jove pursuing, worn and spent,
Within these forests knelt him down
And adored the heavenly ravisher.
Then by Apollo's bidding led,
A wandering heifer following, 720
Upon whose neck the dragging plow,
Nor the plodding wagon's curving yoke
Had never rested, he his quest
At last gave over, and his race
From that ill-omened heifer named.
From that time forth, the land of Thebes
Strange monsters hath engendered: first, 725
That serpent, sprung from the valley's depths,
Hissing, o'ertopped the agéd oaks
And lofty pines; and higher still,
Above Chaonia's woods, he reared
His gleaming head, though on the ground 730
His body lay in many coils.
And next the teeming earth produced
An impious brood of arméd men.
The battle call resounded loud
From the curving horn, and the piercing notes
Of the brazen trumpet shrill were heard.
Their new-created, nimble tongues, 735
And voices strange, they first employ
In hostile clamor; and the fields,
The plains, their kindred soil, they fill.
This monster brood, consorting well
With that dire seed from which they sprung,
Their life within a day's brief span 740
Enjoyed; for after Phoebus rose
They had their birth, but ere he set
They perished. At the dreadful sight
Great terror seized the wanderer;
And much he feared to face in war
His new-born foes. Until, at length
The savage youth in mutual strife 745
Fell down, and mother earth
Beheld her sons, but now produced,
Returned again to her embrace.
And Oh, that with their fall might end
All impious strife within the state!
May Thebes, the land of Hercules,
Such fratricidal strife behold
No more! 750
Why sing Actaeon's fate,
Whose brow the new-sprung antlers crowned
Of the long-lived stag, and whom his hounds,
Though their hapless master still, pursued?
In headlong haste through the mountains and woods,
He flees in fear, and with nimble feet 755
He scours the glades and rocky passes,
In fear of the wind-tossed feathers hung
Among the trees; but most he shuns
The snares which he himself has set;
Until at last in the still, smooth pool 760
He sees his horns and his features wild,
The pool where the goddess, too sternly chaste,
Had bathed her virgin limbs.

FOOTNOTES:

[3] Reading, _retro_.

[4] Reading, _sonantem_.

[5] Reading, _ne_.