Part 6

ANTIGONE. Ah, woe is me! where shall I fly, where find Succor from gods or men?

CHORUS. What would’st thou, stranger?

CREON. I meddle not with him, but her who is mine.

OEDIPUS. O princes of the land!

CHORUS. Sir, thou dost wrong.

CREON. Nay, right.

CHORUS. How right?

CREON. I take but what is mine.

OEDIPUS. Help, Athens!

CHORUS. What means this, sirrah? quick unhand her, or We’ll fight it out.

CREON. Back!

CHORUS. Not till thou forbear.

CREON. ’Tis war with Thebes if I am touched or harmed.

OEDIPUS. Did I not warn thee?

CHORUS. Quick, unhand the maid!

CREON. Command your minions; I am not your slave.

CHORUS. Desist, I bid thee.

CREON (to the guard) And O bid thee march!

CHORUS. To the rescue, one and all! Rally, neighbors to my call! See, the foe is at the gate! Rally to defend the State.

ANTIGONE. Ah, woe is me, they drag me hence, O friends.

OEDIPUS. Where art thou, daughter?

ANTIGONE. Haled along by force.

OEDIPUS. Thy hands, my child!

ANTIGONE. They will not let me, father.

CREON. Away with her!

OEDIPUS. Ah, woe is me, ah woe!

CREON. So those two crutches shall no longer serve thee For further roaming. Since it pleaseth thee To triumph o’er thy country and thy friends Who mandate, though a prince, I here discharge, Enjoy thy triumph; soon or late thou’lt find Thou art an enemy to thyself, both now And in time past, when in despite of friends Thou gav’st the rein to passion, still thy bane.

CHORUS. Hold there, sir stranger!

CREON. Hands off, have a care.

CHORUS. Restore the maidens, else thou goest not.

CREON. Then Thebes will take a dearer surety soon; I will lay hands on more than these two maids.

CHORUS. What canst thou further?

CREON. Carry off this man.

CHORUS. Brave words!

CREON. And deeds forthwith shall make them good.

CHORUS. Unless perchance our sovereign intervene.

OEDIPUS. O shameless voice! Would’st lay an hand on me?

CREON. Silence, I bid thee!

OEDIPUS. Goddesses, allow Thy suppliant to utter yet one curse! Wretch, now my eyes are gone thou hast torn away The helpless maiden who was eyes to me; For these to thee and all thy cursed race May the great Sun, whose eye is everywhere, Grant length of days and old age like to mine.

CREON. Listen, O men of Athens, mark ye this?

OEDIPUS. They mark us both and understand that I Wronged by the deeds defend myself with words.

CREON. Nothing shall curb my will; though I be old And single-handed, I will have this man.

OEDIPUS. O woe is me!

CHORUS. Thou art a bold man, stranger, if thou think’st To execute thy purpose.

CREON. So I do.

CHORUS. Then shall I deem this State no more a State.

CREON. With a just quarrel weakness conquers might.

OEDIPUS. Ye hear his words?

CHORUS. Aye words, but not yet deeds, Zeus knoweth!

CREON. Zeus may haply know, not thou.

CHORUS. Insolence!

CREON. Insolence that thou must bear.

CHORUS. Haste ye princes, sound the alarm! Men of Athens, arm ye, arm! Quickly to the rescue come Ere the robbers get them home. [Enter THESEUS]

THESEUS. Why this outcry? What is forward? wherefore was I called away From the altar of Poseidon, lord of your Colonus? Say! On what errand have I hurried hither without stop or stay.

OEDIPUS. Dear friend—those accents tell me who thou art— Yon man but now hath done me a foul wrong.

THESEUS. What is this wrong and who hath wrought it? Speak.

OEDIPUS. Creon who stands before thee. He it is Hath robbed me of my all, my daughters twain.

THESEUS. What means this?

OEDIPUS. Thou hast heard my tale of wrongs.

THESEUS. Ho! hasten to the altars, one of you. Command my liegemen leave the sacrifice And hurry, foot and horse, with rein unchecked, To where the paths that packmen use diverge, Lest the two maidens slip away, and I Become a mockery to this my guest, As one despoiled by force. Quick, as I bid. As for this stranger, had I let my rage, Justly provoked, have play, he had not ’scaped Scathless and uncorrected at my hands. But now the laws to which himself appealed, These and none others shall adjudicate. Thou shalt not quit this land, till thou hast fetched The maidens and produced them in my sight. Thou hast offended both against myself And thine own race and country. Having come Unto a State that champions right and asks For every action warranty of law, Thou hast set aside the custom of the land, And like some freebooter art carrying off What plunder pleases thee, as if forsooth Thou thoughtest this a city without men, Or manned by slaves, and me a thing of naught. Yet not from Thebes this villainy was learnt; Thebes is not wont to breed unrighteous sons, Nor would she praise thee, if she learnt that thou Wert robbing me—aye and the gods to boot, Haling by force their suppliants, poor maids. Were I on Theban soil, to prosecute The justest claim imaginable, I Would never wrest by violence my own Without sanction of your State or King; I should behave as fits an outlander Living amongst a foreign folk, but thou Shamest a city that deserves it not, Even thine own, and plentitude of years Have made of thee an old man and a fool. Therefore again I charge thee as before, See that the maidens are restored at once, Unless thou would’st continue here by force And not by choice a sojourner; so much I tell thee home and what I say, I mean.

CHORUS. Thy case is perilous; though by birth and race Thou should’st be just, thou plainly doest wrong.

CREON. Not deeming this city void of men Or counsel, son of Aegeus, as thou say’st I did what I have done; rather I thought Your people were not like to set such store by kin of mine and keep them ’gainst my will. Nor would they harbor, so I stood assured, A godless parricide, a reprobate Convicted of incestuous marriage ties. For on her native hill of Ares here (I knew your far-famed Areopagus) Sits Justice, and permits not vagrant folk To stay within your borders. In that faith I hunted down my quarry; and e’en then I had refrained but for the curses dire Wherewith he banned my kinsfolk and myself: Such wrong, methought, had warrant for my act. Anger has no old age but only death; The dead alone can feel no touch of spite. So thou must work thy will; my cause is just But weak without allies; yet will I try, Old as I am, to answer deeds with deeds.

OEDIPUS. O shameless railer, think’st thou this abuse Defames my grey hairs rather than thine own? Murder and incest, deeds of horror, all Thou blurtest forth against me, all I have borne, No willing sinner; so it pleased the gods Wrath haply with my sinful race of old, Since thou could’st find no sin in me myself For which in retribution I was doomed To trespass thus against myself and mine. Answer me now, if by some oracle My sire was destined to a bloody end By a son’s hand, can this reflect on me, Me then unborn, begotten by no sire, Conceived in no mother’s womb? And if When born to misery, as born I was, I met my sire, not knowing whom I met or what I did, and slew him, how canst thou With justice blame the all-unconscious hand? And for my mother, wretch, art not ashamed, Seeing she was thy sister, to extort From me the story of her marriage, such A marriage as I straightway will proclaim. For I will speak; thy lewd and impious speech Has broken all the bonds of reticence. She was, ah woe is me! she was my mother; I knew it not, nor she; and she my mother Bare children to the son whom she had borne, A birth of shame. But this at least I know Wittingly thou aspersest her and me; But I unwitting wed, unwilling speak. Nay neither in this marriage or this deed Which thou art ever casting in my teeth— A murdered sire—shall I be held to blame. Come, answer me one question, if thou canst: If one should presently attempt thy life, Would’st thou, O man of justice, first inquire If the assassin was perchance thy sire, Or turn upon him? As thou lov’st thy life, On thy aggressor thou would’st turn, no stay Debating, if the law would bear thee out. Such was my case, and such the pass whereto The gods reduced me; and methinks my sire, Could he come back to life, would not dissent. Yet thou, for just thou art not, but a man Who sticks at nothing, if it serve his plea, Reproachest me with this before these men. It serves thy turn to laud great Theseus’ name, And Athens as a wisely governed State; Yet in thy flatteries one thing is to seek: If any land knows how to pay the gods Their proper rites, ’tis Athens most of all. This is the land whence thou wast fain to steal Their aged suppliant and hast carried off My daughters. Therefore to yon goddesses, I turn, adjure them and invoke their aid To champion my cause, that thou mayest learn What is the breed of men who guard this State.

CHORUS. An honest man, my liege, one sore bestead By fortune, and so worthy our support.

THESEUS. Enough of words; the captors speed amain, While we the victims stand debating here.

CREON. What would’st thou? What can I, a feeble man?

THESEUS. Show us the trail, and I’ll attend thee too, That, if thou hast the maidens hereabouts, Thou mayest thyself discover them to me; But if thy guards outstrip us with their spoil, We may draw rein; for others speed, from whom They will not ’scape to thank the gods at home. Lead on, I say, the captor’s caught, and fate Hath ta’en the fowler in the toils he spread; So soon are lost gains gotten by deceit. And look not for allies; I know indeed Such height of insolence was never reached Without abettors or accomplices; Thou hast some backer in thy bold essay, But I will search this matter home and see One man doth not prevail against the State. Dost take my drift, or seem these words as vain As seemed our warnings when the plot was hatched?

CREON. Nothing thou sayest can I here dispute, But once at home I too shall act my part.

THESEUS. Threaten us and—begone! Thou, Oedipus, Stay here assured that nothing save my death Will stay my purpose to restore the maids.

OEDIPUS. Heaven bless thee, Theseus, for thy nobleness And all thy loving care in my behalf. [Exeunt THESEUS and CREON]

CHORUS. (Str. 1) O when the flying foe, Turning at last to bay, Soon will give blow for blow, Might I behold the fray; Hear the loud battle roar Swell, on the Pythian shore, Or by the torch-lit bay, Where the dread Queen and Maid Cherish the mystic rites, Rites they to none betray, Ere on his lips is laid Secrecy’s golden key By their own acolytes, Priestly Eumolpidae.

There I might chance behold Theseus our captain bold Meet with the robber band, Ere they have fled the land, Rescue by might and main Maidens, the captives twain.

(Ant. 1) Haply on swiftest steed, Or in the flying car, Now they approach the glen, West of white Oea’s scaur. They will be vanquished: Dread are our warriors, dread Theseus our chieftain’s men. Flashes each bridle bright, Charges each gallant knight, All that our Queen adore, Pallas their patron, or Him whose wide floods enring Earth, the great Ocean-king Whom Rhea bore.

(Str. 2) Fight they or now prepare To fight? a vision rare Tells me that soon again I shall behold the twain Maidens so ill bestead, By their kin buffeted. Today, today Zeus worketh some great thing This day shall victory bring. O for the wings, the wings of a dove, To be borne with the speed of the gale, Up and still upwards to sail And gaze on the fray from the clouds above. (Ant. 2) All-seeing Zeus, O lord of heaven, To our guardian host be given Might triumphant to surprise Flying foes and win their prize. Hear us, Zeus, and hear us, child Of Zeus, Athene undefiled, Hear, Apollo, hunter, hear, Huntress, sister of Apollo, Who the dappled swift-foot deer O’er the wooded glade dost follow; Help with your two-fold power Athens in danger’s hour! O wayfarer, thou wilt not have to tax The friends who watch for thee with false presage, For lo, an escort with the maids draws near. [Enter ANTIGONE and ISMENE with THESEUS]

OEDIPUS. Where, where? what sayest thou?

ANTIGONE. O father, father, Would that some god might grant thee eyes to see This best of men who brings us back again.

OEDIPUS. My child! and are ye back indeed!

ANTIGONE. Yes, saved By Theseus and his gallant followers.

OEDIPUS. Come to your father’s arms, O let me feel A child’s embrace I never hoped for more.

ANTIGONE. Thou askest what is doubly sweet to give.

OEDIPUS. Where are ye then?

ANTIGONE. We come together both.

OEDIPUS. My precious nurslings!

ANTIGONE. Fathers aye were fond.

OEDIPUS. Props of my age!

ANTIGONE. So sorrow sorrow props.

OEDIPUS. I have my darlings, and if death should come, Death were not wholly bitter with you near. Cling to me, press me close on either side, There rest ye from your dreary wayfaring. Now tell me of your ventures, but in brief; Brief speech suffices for young maids like you.

ANTIGONE. Here is our savior; thou should’st hear the tale From his own lips; so shall my part be brief.

OEDIPUS. I pray thee do not wonder if the sight Of children, given o’er for lost, has made My converse somewhat long and tedious. Full well I know the joy I have of them Is due to thee, to thee and no man else; Thou wast their sole deliverer, none else. The gods deal with thee after my desire, With thee and with this land! for fear of heaven I found above all peoples most with you, And righteousness and lips that cannot lie. I speak in gratitude of what I know, For all I have I owe to thee alone. Give me thy hand, O Prince, that I may touch it, And if thou wilt permit me, kiss thy cheek. What say I? Can I wish that thou should’st touch One fallen like me to utter wretchedness, Corrupt and tainted with a thousand ills? Oh no, I would not let thee if thou would’st. They only who have known calamity Can share it. Let me greet thee where thou art, And still befriend me as thou hast till now.

THESEUS. I marvel not if thou hast dallied long In converse with thy children and preferred Their speech to mine; I feel no jealousy, I would be famous more by deeds than words. Of this, old friend, thou hast had proof; my oath I have fulfilled and brought thee back the maids Alive and nothing harmed for all those threats. And how the fight was won, ’twere waste of words To boast—thy daughters here will tell thee all. But of a matter that has lately chanced On my way hitherward, I fain would have Thy counsel—slight ’twould seem, yet worthy thought. A wise man heeds all matters great or small.

OEDIPUS. What is it, son of Aegeus? Let me hear. Of what thou askest I myself know naught.

THESEUS. ’Tis said a man, no countryman of thine, But of thy kin, hath taken sanctuary Beside the altar of Poseidon, where I was at sacrifice when called away.

OEDIPUS. What is his country? what the suitor’s prayer?

THESEUS. I know but one thing; he implores, I am told, A word with thee—he will not trouble thee.

OEDIPUS. What seeks he? If a suppliant, something grave.

THESEUS. He only waits, they say, to speak with thee, And then unharmed to go upon his way.

OEDIPUS. I marvel who is this petitioner.

THESEUS. Think if there be not any of thy kin At Argos who might claim this boon of thee.

OEDIPUS. Dear friend, forbear, I pray.

THESEUS. What ails thee now?

OEDIPUS. Ask it not of me.

THESEUS. Ask not what? explain.

OEDIPUS. Thy words have told me who the suppliant is.

THESEUS. Who can he be that I should frown on him?

OEDIPUS. My son, O king, my hateful son, whose words Of all men’s most would jar upon my ears.

THESEUS. Thou sure mightest listen. If his suit offend, No need to grant it. Why so loth to hear him?

OEDIPUS. That voice, O king, grates on a father’s ears; I have come to loathe it. Force me not to yield.

THESEUS. But he hath found asylum. O beware, And fail not in due reverence to the god.

ANTIGONE. O heed me, father, though I am young in years. Let the prince have his will and pay withal What in his eyes is service to the god; For our sake also let our brother come. If what he urges tend not to thy good He cannot surely wrest perforce thy will. To hear him then, what harm? By open words A scheme of villainy is soon bewrayed. Thou art his father, therefore canst not pay In kind a son’s most impious outrages. O listen to him; other men like thee Have thankless children and are choleric, But yielding to persuasion’s gentle spell They let their savage mood be exorcised. Look thou to the past, forget the present, think On all the woe thy sire and mother brought thee; Thence wilt thou draw this lesson without fail, Of evil passion evil is the end. Thou hast, alas, to prick thy memory, Stern monitors, these ever-sightless orbs. O yield to us; just suitors should not need To be importunate, nor he that takes A favor lack the grace to make return.

OEDIPUS. Grievous to me, my child, the boon ye win By pleading. Let it be then; have your way Only if come he must, I beg thee, friend, Let none have power to dispose of me.

THESEUS. No need, Sir, to appeal a second time. It likes me not to boast, but be assured Thy life is safe while any god saves mine. [Exit THESEUS]

CHORUS. (Str.) Who craves excess of days, Scorning the common span Of life, I judge that man A giddy wight who walks in folly’s ways. For the long years heap up a grievous load, Scant pleasures, heavier pains, Till not one joy remains For him who lingers on life’s weary road And come it slow or fast, One doom of fate Doth all await, For dance and marriage bell, The dirge and funeral knell. Death the deliverer freeth all at last. (Ant.) Not to be born at all Is best, far best that can befall, Next best, when born, with least delay To trace the backward way. For when youth passes with its giddy train, Troubles on troubles follow, toils on toils, Pain, pain for ever pain; And none escapes life’s coils. Envy, sedition, strife, Carnage and war, make up the tale of life. Last comes the worst and most abhorred stage Of unregarded age, Joyless, companionless and slow, Of woes the crowning woe.

(Epode) Such ills not I alone, He too our guest hath known, E’en as some headland on an iron-bound shore, Lashed by the wintry blasts and surge’s roar, So is he buffeted on every side By drear misfortune’s whelming tide, By every wind of heaven o’erborne Some from the sunset, some from orient morn, Some from the noonday glow. Some from Rhipean gloom of everlasting snow.

ANTIGONE. Father, methinks I see the stranger coming, Alone he comes and weeping plenteous tears.

OEDIPUS. Who may he be?

ANTIGONE. The same that we surmised. From the outset—Polyneices. He is here. [Enter POLYNEICES]

POLYNEICES. Ah me, my sisters, shall I first lament My own afflictions, or my aged sire’s, Whom here I find a castaway, with you, In a strange land, an ancient beggar clad In antic tatters, marring all his frame, While o’er the sightless orbs his unkept locks Float in the breeze; and, as it were to match, He bears a wallet against hunger’s pinch. All this too late I learn, wretch that I am, Alas! I own it, and am proved most vile In my neglect of thee: I scorn myself. But as almighty Zeus in all he doth Hath Mercy for co-partner of this throne, Let Mercy, father, also sit enthroned In thy heart likewise. For transgressions past May be amended, cannot be made worse.

Why silent? Father, speak, nor turn away, Hast thou no word, wilt thou dismiss me then In mute disdain, nor tell me why thou art wrath? O ye his daughters, sisters mine, do ye This sullen, obstinate silence try to move. Let him not spurn, without a single word Of answer, me the suppliant of the god.

ANTIGONE. Tell him thyself, unhappy one, thine errand; For large discourse may send a thrill of joy, Or stir a chord of wrath or tenderness, And to the tongue-tied somehow give a tongue.