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 SOPHOCLES 
 
SOPHOCLES 
 
 TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VERSE 
 
 ROBERT WHITELAW 
 
 ASSISTANT-MASTER IN RUGBY SCHOOL ; LATE FELLOW OF 
 TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE 
 
 RIVINGTONS 
 
 WATERLOO PLACE, LONDON 
 
 MDCCCLXXXIII 
 

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 I OWE SO MUCH TO THE POETRY 
 
 OF 
 
 ROBERT BROWNING 
 
 THAT HE PERMITS ME 
 
 BY INSCRIBING THIS PAGE WITH HIS ΧΑΜΕ 
 
 BOTH TO RECORD AND INCREASE 
 
 MY DEBT. 
 
 
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PREFACE. 
 
 thoroughly good English translation is twofold : it should 
 satisfy both the English reader who cannot read the 
 | original, and the scholar who can. It is, I believe, 
 increasingly felt that a good translation is a commentary 
 of the best kind. But, when I have said this, what 
 remains for me to say, but that, whilst hoping that I 
 may have contributed something to the knowledge of 
 Sophocles, I feel profoundly how far I have fallen short 
 of the result at which I aimed ? 
 
 I have translated the Choruses into unrhymed lines. 
 This seemed to me better in itself, as well as more practi- 
 cable for me. Mr. Matthew Arnold's fragments of an 
 ' Antigone ' and a ' Deianeira ' are examples of what 
 can be done in this way. I have only now and then 
 attempted to reproduce the metres of the original. But, 
 lest it should be thought that I may have ' felt the 
 j weight of too much liberty,' I have bound myself 
 i rigorously, with a few exceptions, by an antistrophic 
 arrangement. 
 
 With respect to the spelling of the Greek names, I 
 have been wilfully, and perhaps indefensibly, incon- 
 sistent. I could not persuade myself that ' Aias ' and 
 f Teukros ' were not pedantic. Yet I have spoken of 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 ί Odysseus.' ' Ulysses,' as I have heard it said, is 
 another person, with Ovidian associations. And 
 1 Odysseus ' is sufficiently naturalised. So, perhaps, will 
 1 Aias ' be hereafter ; but not yet. 
 
 I have added a few notes, which seemed necessary, 
 for explanation, or to justify novelties either of inter- 
 pretation or reading. 
 
 I have expressed, in a note on ' Electra '1. 363, my 
 
 obligations to Professor Jebb's editions of the ' Electra ' 
 
 and 'Ajax.' 
 
 R. W. 
 
 Rugby, November 1882. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 OEDIPUS THE KING 
 OEDIPUS AT COLONUS 
 ANTIGONE 
 .ELECTRA 
 TRACHINIAE 
 AJAX 
 
 PHILOCTETES 
 NOTES 
 
 
 65 
 
 
 
 139 
 
 
 
 193 
 
 \f 
 
 
 255 
 
 
 
 309 
 
 
 
 367 
 
 
 
 429 
 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING 
 
PERSONS. 
 
 Oedipus. 
 
 Priest. 
 
 Creon. 
 
 Teiresias. 
 
 Messenger. 
 
 Shepherd of Laius. 
 
 Second Messenger. 
 
 Jocasta. 
 
 Chorus of Theban Elders. 
 
Of THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 £*UFQHt**L• 
 
 &>eOipus tU Eing 
 
 0λ/. /^HILDREN— of ancient Cadmus latest 
 ^ birth- 
 
 Why in such eager session sit ye here, 
 With chaplets twined around your suppliant boughs ? 
 And all the city is thick with incense-smoke, 
 And loud with lamentation and with dirge : 
 Whereof, Ο children, choosing not to hear 
 From lips of others, hither I have come — 
 I, who am called all-famous Oedipus : 
 Now therefore tell me, thou, whose reverend mien 
 Proclaims thee spokesman, wherefore are ye come — 10 
 What fearing — craving what ? In nought would I 
 Withhold my succour ; fearing to be found 
 Heartless, your suppliant session pitying not. 
 
 Priest Prince of my people, Oedipus the king, 
 Thou seest us, what tale of years we tell, 
 Who at thine altars sit, some fledged as yet 
 For no far flight, and some oppressed with age, 
 Priests — I of Zeus : and lo, with us, of youths 
 Our chosen : and the general crowd, white-wreathed, 
 Sit in our squares, and at the temples twain 20 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Of Pallas, and Ismenus' prescient hearth. 
 
 For Thebes, thyself art witness, sinks beneath 
 
 The tempest's stress, and lifts no more her head 
 
 Out of the drenching of the deadly surge — 
 
 Blighted all fruitful blossoms of the land, 
 
 Blighted our grazing herds, and barren births 
 
 Of women : and withal the god, fire-fraught, 
 
 Grim Pestilence, strikes with his scourge the city, 
 
 Whereby the house of Cadmus is made void, 
 
 And rich with sorrow and sighing Death's dark halls. 30 
 
 Thee therefore, not as equalled with the gods, 
 
 Suppliant with these children I entreat, 
 
 But chief of men, in casualties of life, 
 
 And Heaven's visitations, we esteem thee : 
 
 Who, at thy coming hither, didst rid the land 
 
 Of that fell songster's tribute which we paid, 
 
 Albeit of us no knowledge hadst thou gained, 
 
 No prompting, but by aidance of a god 
 
 We say and think thou didst redeem our life ; 
 
 x\nd now, revered of all men, Oedipus, 4 o 
 
 Behold us here thy suppliants : help for us, 
 
 Some help contrive, by oracle from heaven 
 
 Instructed, or wise counsel of a man : 
 
 For oft 'tis seen, that most abiding fruit 
 
 Experience bears, when counsellors confer. 
 
 Ο then, uplift our state, thou man of men ! 
 
 Yea, and beware : for now indeed the land 
 
OEDIPUS THE KIXG. 
 
 Hails thee her saviour, for thy former help: 
 
 And of thy reign Ο never be it said, 
 
 That thou didst lift us up and cast us down; 90 
 
 But stablish thou our state's prosperity; 
 
 And. as before deliverance wrought by thee 
 
 Was blest by heaven, so help us now again. 
 
 For if thou wilt be king in Thebes, as n; 
 
 Better a peopled than a vacant realm : 
 
 Since neither tower nor ship avails to help, 
 
 Empty of men and tenantless within. 
 
 Oed. Ο woful children, sorrows known too W€ 
 To me ye come lamenting. Well I know 
 Ye all are grieved, and yet, grieve as ye may, 6 3 
 
 There is not one of you hath grief like mine. 
 For yours is private sorrow, touching each 
 Himself and not another, but my heart 
 Aches all at once for Thebes and me and thee. 
 Ye do not wake me slumbering and asleep : 
 But many tears doubt not that I have shed, 
 And threaded many a labyrinth of the mind. 
 And the one cure that I by searching found 
 I put to proof: for Creon, Menoeceus* son, 
 My own wife's brother, to the Delphic shrine 70 
 
 Of Phoebus I have sent, that he might ask 
 \Vhat act or speech of mine should save the state : 
 And counting o'er the days that he is gone 
 I man-el how he fares : for overlon? 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 He tarries, past the time that should have served. 
 But when he comes, base should I be indeed, 
 Failing to do all that the god requires. 
 
 Priest. 'Tis seasonably spoken, and ev'n now 
 I hear it said that Creon hither comes. 
 
 Oed. Brightly he looks : Ο King Apollo, grant, 80 
 
 Bright fortune, fraught with safety, he may bring ! 
 
 Priest. Glad news, no doubt, he brings : else had he not 
 With wealth of fruitful laurel decked his brows. 
 
 Oed. Soon we shall know. 'Tis not too far to speak. 
 Son of Menoeceus and my kinsman, prince, 
 What answer from the god dost thou report ? 
 
 Cre. Good : all our sufferings, if it chance aright, 
 May turn to our advantage, as I think. 
 
 Oed. What says the god ? Hearing thy present 
 speech, 
 I neither hope, nor fear before the time. 90 
 
 Cre. If thou wilt hear while these are standing by, 
 Thou shalt : I am ready, or else to go within. 
 
 Oed. Speak in the ears of all : since more for these 
 Than for my own life is the grief I bear. 
 
 Cre. All that the god hath spoken thou shalt hear. 
 A plain command Apollo lays on us ; 
 Pollution, harboured in the land, we must 
 Drive hence, nor harbour irremediably. 
 
 Oed. Yea, with what cleansing ? How is our plight 
 relieved ? 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Cre. Some one's to banish, or for blood that's shed ioo 
 Blood must atone : such guilt disturbs our state. 
 
 Oed. Of what man spake the god, so foully slain ? 
 
 Cre. Lai'us, Ο king, was ruler of the land 
 Aforetime, ere the sceptre fell to thee. 
 
 Oed. I know his fame : himself I never saw. 
 
 Cre. His death requires our vengeance, and to do 
 Swift execution on his murderers. 
 
 Oed. But where are they ? Where shall we look to 
 trace 
 The faded record of an ancient crime ? 
 
 Cre. In this land, so he said. Who seek may find : no 
 The careless searcher makes the baffled search. 
 
 Oed. In city or in field — or was't abroad 
 That Lai'us encountered with this death ? 
 
 Cre. Bound, as he said, for Delphi, from his home 
 He fared, but to his home came not again. 
 
 Oed. Was there no messenger — companion, none — 
 Who saw, and might have told, if one had asked ? 
 
 Cre. All died save one, who, flying, crazed with fear, 
 Of all he saw knew but one thing to tell. 
 
 Oed. Out then with that ! One thing may find out 
 many, 120 
 
 If but a little we take heart to hope. 
 
 Cre. Robbers, he said, met with the king and slew 
 him, 
 Not single-handed, but a company. 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Oed. How had a robber so presumed, unless 
 Traitors from Thebes had lined him with their gold ? 
 
 Cre. So we surmised : but, La'ius being dead, 
 No one was there to help us in our grief. 
 
 Oed. What grief withheld you, not to learn the 
 truth — 
 The royal house struck down by such a blow ? 
 
 Cre. The subtle - singing Sphinx compelled our 
 thoughts 130 
 
 " ~\Back from the vague doubt to the instant need. 
 
 Oed. I will begin again, and find out all. 
 Phoebus has well fulfilled his part, thou thine, 
 Spending this trouble for the dead man's sake : 
 Claim then and find in me no vain ally, 
 Helping at once this city and the god. 
 Not on behalf of friends of no account, 
 But for my own sake, shall I purge this guilt. 
 For who slew him, by such another blow 
 Belike may choose to be revenged on me. 140 
 
 So then in helping him I save myself. 
 But quickly, children, from this altar-foot 
 Rise ye, and take these suppliant boughs away : 
 And some one summon hither the Theban folk ; 
 Nought will I leave undone. All hangs on this — 
 Weal, with the help of heaven, or woe to Thebes. 
 
 Priest. Children, let us be gone : for to obtain 
 Ev'n what this man announces, came we hither. 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Come, who didst send these oracles, Apollo, 
 To save and heal us of our sickness, thou ! 150 
 
 Chor. Sweet-sounding answer of Zeus, what art thou, 
 
 that comest from Pytho, \Strophe 1. 
 
 To glorious Thebes from the golden shrine ? 
 Low at thy feet I am laid, with my heart in a flutter of 
 
 fear, 
 Delian, Healer Apollo ! 
 Filled full of wonder and dread, 
 What stern requirement thou wilt enact for us, 
 What word of doom, or new or old, 
 Come with revolving seasons back — 
 Ο tell us, daughter of golden Hope, 
 Immortal Voice ! \Antistrophe 1. 
 
 Daughter of Zeus, thee first I invoke, immortal Athene ; 
 Our city's champion, thy sister, next, 160 
 
 Artemis high o'er the Agora's circle in glory enthroned, 
 Thee too, Far-shooter, Apollo ! 
 Threefold averters of doom, 
 Ο ηολν from heav'n come forth to deliver us, 
 If ever, when hung o'er our heads 
 Menace of woe, at your behest 
 The flaming ruin was rolled away, 
 Visit us now ! 
 
 Unnumbered woes, alas, are mine to bear : \_Strophe 2. 
 I see the sickness sweep our ranks along, 
 Nor weapon hath my thought, 170 
 
ίο OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 That can its breath avert : 
 
 For neither of the goodly earth 
 
 Prosper the springing fruits, 
 
 Nor women from the lamentable pangs 
 
 Of childbirth rise again : 
 
 But one upon another shalt thou see 
 
 Like flocks of feather'd birds, 
 
 Swifter than fire that no man tames, 
 
 Swept onward to the shore, 
 
 Far west, of Pluto and the night. 
 
 Unnumbered dead \ a city perishing ! [Antistrophe 2. 
 
 For children unregarded in the streets 
 
 Lie, tainting the air with death, &a 
 
 Unwept : and gentle wives, 
 
 And grey-haired mothers, pressing round, 
 
 Their sad petitions pour, 
 
 Where the great altar lifted o'er the crowd 
 
 Stands like a seaward cliff: 
 
 And high and clear with flutes in solemn dirge 
 
 The wailing voices blend : — 
 
 Ο golden goddess, child of Zeus, 
 
 Have pity and send us Help, 
 
 Fair-visaged Help^ with eyes benign. 
 
 And this fierce Ares, who, [Strophe 3. 
 
 Not now with brazen shields, J 9° 
 
 But with the blasting of his fiery breath, 
 
 Wakes worse than din of battle in our midst, 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 I pray that he, far from my country's shores, 
 
 Backward at headlong speed may turn and flee, 
 
 Either to Amphitrite's western bower 
 
 Under the great salt sea, 
 
 Or those inhospitable tides that rave 
 
 On rock-bound shores of Thrace : 
 
 For, what the ravin'd night at last lets go, 
 
 Day makes of this his prey : 
 
 But, Ο our Father, Zeus, 200 
 
 Lord of the lightning's flaming might, 
 
 Slay with thy bolt the dreaded foe. 
 
 Lyceius, lord of light, [Antistrophe 3. 
 
 Showered from thy golden string 
 
 Fain would I see thy shafts invincible 
 
 Fly forth, each shaft a champion winged with help, 
 
 And see in either hand of Artemis 
 
 The splendour of a torch that flames afar, 
 
 Wherewith the Lycian hills she ranges o'er : 
 
 And, lustrous as the juice 
 
 Of thine own vines, named of this Theban land, 210 
 
 Bacchus, I cry to thee — 
 
 Crowned with a golden diadem, and girt 
 
 With shouting Maenads round, 
 
 Come to our rescue now, 
 
 With blazing pinebrand all aglow, 
 
 Against the god whom gods disown. 
 
 Oed. Thou askest : as thou askest, if thou wilt 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Be serviceable and hearken to my words, 
 
 Help thou shalt have and respite of thine ills — 
 
 Words I shall speak, a stranger to the tale, 
 
 A stranger to the deed : else had I tracked it, 220 
 
 And not gone far, ere I had found some clue. 
 
 But I was then no citizen of Thebes ; 
 
 Now therefore, Thebans, hear me, all of you. 
 
 Whoever among you knows by what man's hand 
 
 Died Lai'us the son of Labdacus, 
 
 I bid him speak to me, and tell me all : 
 
 Speak though he fears, and clear us of the guilt, 
 
 Yea, and accuse himself: for he shall suffer 
 
 Nought worse than to depart out of the land 
 
 Unscathed : or, if he knows the murderer 230 
 
 Some stranger come to Thebes, yet let him speak : 
 
 I will reward and give him thanks to boot. 
 
 But, if ye hide this thing, and one, afraid 
 
 For his own sake or friend's sake, slights my words, 
 
 How then concludes my purpose, ye shall hear. 
 
 I charge all dwellers in this land, whereof 
 
 Sceptre and sovereignty are mine, to yield 
 
 That man, whoe'er he be, nor speech nor shelter: 
 
 No man must pray or sacrifice with him, 
 
 Or of the lustral water let him share : 24 o 
 
 To him all doors be barred, whose presence breeds 
 
 In Thebes pollution : as the oracle, 
 
 From Delphi newly brought, reveals to me. 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 So stands my purpose : to the god such help 
 
 I dedicate and to the murdered man : 
 
 And for the murderer, whether alone 
 
 He hides his guilt or has accomplices, 
 
 May he unblest wear out his guilty life ! 
 
 And for myself I pray, my hearth and home 
 
 With my consent if ever he should share, 250 
 
 This doom I doomed for others fall on me! 
 
 And all these things I charge you to perform, 
 
 For my sake, and the god, and for this land, 
 
 Blighted and banned and ruined as ye see. 
 
 For even if this thing were not from heaven, 
 
 Ye should not thus have left such guilt unpurged, 
 
 The murder of your noblest and a king, 
 
 But sought the slayer : and now, because on me 
 
 There hath devolved succession to his throne, 
 
 And to his couch withal and fruitful wife, 260 
 
 From whom had sprung, had not his offspring failed, 
 
 A common race of children, his and mine — 
 
 But on his head this sudden mischief leapt — 
 
 Therefore, as son for father, I will fight 
 
 For him, and nothing spare, and shrink from nought, 
 
 Seeking the murderer of your king, whose sire 
 
 Was Labdacus, as Polydorus his, 
 
 From Cadmus sprung, son of Agenor old : 
 
 And, who'll not help in this, I pray the gods 
 
 Neither to yield them harvest of their fields, 270 
 
i 4 OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Nor children of their wives, but let them perish, 
 Slain by this present plague or worse than this : 
 But you the rest, good Thebans all, who cleave 
 To my consent, be Justice your ally, 
 And all the gods befriend you evermore. 
 
 Chor. King, as thy curse constrains me, I will speak — 
 I neither did the deed, nor can declare 
 The doer. Phoebus, he alone, who laid 
 This quest on us, could name the guilty one. 
 
 Oed. True, but to wrest a secret from the gods, 280 
 Against their will, passes all power of men. 
 
 Chor. Yet, if not this, there is a second-best. 
 
 Oed. Second or third-best, speak : withhold it not. 
 
 Chor. Teiresias with Phoebus, seer with seer, 
 I know more than all men like-gifted : Ask 
 Of him, Ο king, and thou shalt learn the truth. 
 
 Oed. This also, friends, I have not left undone. 
 I sent two messengers, when Creon spoke : 
 Long since I marvel that he is not here. 
 
 Chor. Enough: mere dull stale talk, no doubt, all else. 290 
 
 Oed. What talk mean you ? I question every hint. 
 
 Chor. By travellers we heard the king was slain. 
 
 Oed. And I : but gone from sight is he who saw it. 
 
 Chor. Yet, if he knows what fear is, rest assured 
 He'll not endure, hearing thy grievous curse. 
 
 Oed. From deeds who shrinks not, him no words 
 affright. 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Cho?\ There's one who shall convict him : hither led 
 Comes even now the seer, the man inspired, 
 Whose eyes, of all men's most, behold the truth. 
 
 Oed. Teiresias, master-seer, who understandest 300 
 All mysteries and all knowledge, things in heaven 
 And things on earth, thou seest not but knowest 
 What plague afflicts our state : whereof we find 
 No champion and no saviour, sage, but thee. 
 For Phoebus, if indeed the messengers 
 Told thee not, to our sending sent reply, 
 No riddance of this sickness should we have, 
 Until the murderers of Lai'us 
 Were found and slain, or banished from the land: 
 Now therefore grudge neither thine auguries, 310 
 
 Nor any divinations that thou hast, 
 But save thyself and city, and save mej 
 And make us clean from all blood-guiltiness. 
 On thee we hang : and for a man to helpj 
 With all he has and can, is noblest toil. ' 
 
 Teir. Alas, how sore a burden is the knowledge 
 That profits not the knower. This I knew, 
 But had forgotten : else had I not come hither. 
 
 Oed. Why with thy looks so downcast art thou come ? 
 
 Teir. Let me go hence : most easily will be 320 
 
 Performed my part and thine, if thou consent. 
 
 Oed. 'Twere treason and ingratitude to Thebes, 
 Thy mother, thus to lock from her thy counsel. 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Teir. Nay, for thy speech, I see, toward no good end 
 Is making; and I would not likewise err. 
 
 Oed. By heaven, if aught thou knowest, all we here 
 Thy suppliants pray, turn not thy face from us. 
 
 Teir. Ay, for ye all know nought : Urge me no more, 
 Lest my tale prove — an evil tale for thee. 
 
 Oed. How? dost thou know and \vilt not tell, but 
 rather 33° 
 
 Betray thy people and destroy thy town ? 
 
 Teir. I'll neither grieve myself nor thee. In vain 
 Thou dost importune me : my lips are sealed. 
 
 Oed. What, miscreant — for the patience of a stone 
 Thou'dst anger — not a word thou'it speak, but keep 
 Thy stubborn and impracticable mood? 
 
 Teir. Thou dost reprove my temper, but thine own, 
 Lodged in thy breast, thou seest not, blaming me. 
 
 Oed. Who could refrain his anger, hearing now 
 Such words, wherewith thou dost dishonour Thebes ? 340 
 
 Teir. Too soon the blow will fall, howe'er I hide it. 
 
 Oed. What blow will fall, I should be warned by 
 thee. 
 
 Teir. I'll speak no more. Now bluster, if thou wilt : 
 The fiercest of thine anger let me feel. 
 
 Oed. This shall my anger do : what I perceive, 
 I'll speak. For know that now I understand, 
 Thou didst contrive, nay thou hast done, this deed — 
 All save to deal the blow : and, couldst thou see 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 17 
 
 Then surely I had said 'twas wholly thine. 
 
 Teir. Is't come to this ? I charge thee to obey 
 Thine own commandment, and from this day forth 35c 
 Speak neither to this people nor to me : 
 Thou art unclean : for thee we are accursed. 
 
 Oed. Such words, unblenching, blurtest thou at me ? 
 How dost thou deem thou shalt escape for this ? 
 
 Teir. Nay, I am safe. 'Tis true ; and truth is strong. 
 
 Oed. Truth taught by whom ? Not surely by thine 
 art. 
 
 Teir. By thee : my lips, unwilling, thou hast opened. 
 
 Oed. What saidst thou ? Speak again :' I'll mark thee 
 better. 
 
 Teir. Was my speech dark? or say'st thou this to 
 prove me ? 360 
 
 Oed. Perchance I understood not : speak again. 
 
 Teir. Him, of whose death thou askest, thou didst 
 slay. 
 
 Oed. Not twice, unpunished, shall thy tongue offend. 
 
 Teir. More wilt thou hear, to be incensed the more ? 
 
 Oed. Say what thou wilt : 'twill be but wasted breath. 
 
 Teir. Consorting with thy nearest, to thy shame, 
 Thou knowest not, nor seest what plight is thine. 
 
 Oed. Shalt thou say this, and triumph to the end ? 
 
 Teir. If there is any potency in truth. 
 
 Oed. There is, except for thee. For thee there's 
 none, 370 
 
 Β 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Blind as thou art, in ears and mind and eyes. 
 
 Teir. I pity thee, flinging the taunts, which soon 
 There's no one here will spare to fling at thee. 
 
 Oed. One lifelong night's thy portion ; so that me 
 Thou canst not harm, nor any man who sees. 
 
 Teir. 'Tis not appointed thee by me to fall: 
 Sufficient is Apollo — he will do it. 
 
 Oed. By thee, or Creon, was this plot contrived ? 
 
 Teir. Nay, Creon harms thee not : thou harm'st thy- 
 self. 
 
 Oed. Ο wealth and kingly state and sovereign art, 380 
 All art excelling, of our high-placed life — 
 What jealousy ye have in store for us ; 
 When for this sceptre's sake, which Thebes to me 
 Intrusted — a free gift, by me unsought — 
 Creon, from first to last the faithful friend, 
 Seeks to unthrone me, springing unawares, 
 And has suborned a cunning sorcerer, 
 A cheating juggler, one who for his gains 
 Has eyes to see, but in his art is blind. 
 For, tell me, sirrah, when wast thou true prophet ? 390 
 Why, when the chanting hound was at your doors, 
 Didst thou not save thy people by a word ? 
 And yet to read such riddle was no task 
 For common men, but asked a prophet's skill : 
 But thou wast found with no such lore by birds 
 Instructed or by gods inspired : — then came 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 19 
 
 •I, who knew nothing, Oedipus, and freed you, 
 Taught not by birds, but by my mind's sure guess ; 
 Whom now thou wouldst thrust out, in hope to stand 
 By the right hand of Creon on his throne. 400 
 
 Methinks ye both shall rue your precious plot 
 Of cleansing thus the land : thou'rt old, I think — 
 Else hadst thou learnt — plagued with thine own inven- 
 tions. 
 
 Chor. In anger spoken to our conjecture seem 
 Both this man's words, Ο Oedipus, and thine. 
 But other need is ours, to ponder well, 
 What heaven decrees, how best we may perform. 
 
 Teir. Though thou'rt a king, an equal right I claim 
 To give thee word for word : I too may speak — 
 No slave to thee — but slave to Loxias ; 410 
 
 Not needing therefore, for a patron, Creon. 
 Blind thou didst call me, taunting me ; I tell thee, 
 Thou seest and seest not what plight is thine, 
 Nor where thy home is, nor with whom 'tis shared. 
 Knowest thou whence thou art ? and thou hast been 
 Foe to thy friends, unknowing, alive and dead; 
 And from this land of mother and of sire 
 The twofold curse shall drive thee with fierce feet, 
 Seeing with thine eyes, light now, but darkness then : 
 And then, responsive to thine outcries wild, 420 
 
 What haven, what Kithaeron will not ring, 
 Those nuptials known, that fatal harbour-home, 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 
 Wherein thy bark was moored, fair winds to help ? 
 And many another grief hast thou to learn, 
 Both to thyself made equal and thy children. 
 Now upon Creon and these words of mine 
 Heap insults if thou wilt. There waits for no man 
 More swift and sure perdition than for thee. 
 
 Oed. These things from him can I endure to hear ? 
 Hence to destruction ! hence and tarry not, 430 
 
 But void these doors, and from my sight be gone ! 
 
 Teir. I had not come, but thou didst summon me. 
 
 Oed. I knew not that thou wouldst speak foolishness, 
 Else had I made small haste to bring thee hither. 
 
 Teir. Let it be so : I am a fool for thee — 
 Wise enough for the father who begat thee. 
 
 Oed. What father ? — Stay : tell me, whose son am I ? 
 
 Teir. This day shall both beget thee and destroy. 
 
 Oed. Thou dark'nest counsel still with riddling words. 
 
 Teir. In reading riddles famous is thy skill. 440 
 
 Oed. Ay — find what makes me great and sneer at 
 that ! 
 
 Teir. This same success however has undone thee. 
 
 Oed. But, if it saved the city, what care I ? 
 
 Teir. 'Tis time that I were gone. Boy, lead me 
 hence. 
 
 Oed. So let him lead. A hindrance and offence 
 Thou art, being present : gone, thou'lt plague no more. 
 
 Teir. But first I'll speak my errand, unafraid, 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Out to thy face : thy frown can nowise slay. 
 
 Hear then : this man, whom thou with threats requirest, 
 
 And makest inquisition for the blood 450 
 
 Of Lai'us slain, he is amongst us here, 
 
 Lodged in our midst, an alien, as we deemed — 
 
 Now to be proved true Theban with the best — 
 
 No glad surprise : for blind, who now boasts sight, 
 
 Who now has wealth, a beefear,. staff in hand, 
 
 To a strange land shall he grope forth his way. 
 
 Then shall he of the children round his hearth 
 
 Brother be proved and sire ; both son and husband 
 
 Of her who bare him ; having usurped the couch 
 
 O' the father whom he slew. Get thee within, 460 
 
 And meditate these things : if they prove false, 
 
 Say then my prophet's skill has taught me nothing. 
 
 Chor. What man is he, [Strophe 1. 
 
 Whom the prophetic Delphian cliff denounces, 
 With blood-stained hands 
 Doer of deeds inexpiable, nameless ? 
 Now, now let him flee with feet 
 Than storm-footed steeds more swift 
 Far, far from the sunlight. 
 
 For with the fire of his lightnings leaps on him, 
 Armed, the Avenger, the Son of the Highest : 470 
 
 And the Fates, the relentless, 
 Track him, not to be baffled. 
 For, late revealed, {Antistrophe 1. 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Forth from the snow-capt summits of Parnassus 
 
 Flashed there a Voice, 
 
 ' Seek ye the sinner ! from his hiding drag him ! ' 
 
 For through the wild woodland ways, 
 
 O'er rocks, and in mountain caves, 
 
 He roams, as a bull might, 
 
 Restless, joyless, far from his fellows, 
 
 Shunning the oracles pealed from earth's centre, 480 
 
 But for ever he hears them, 
 
 Deathless, hovering round him, 
 
 Sorely, most sorely, is my mind perplexed, \Strophe 2. 
 
 By the wise augur's word : 
 
 I cannot yet believe, nor dare deny — 
 
 I know not what to say. 
 
 'Twixt hope and fear I hover doubtfully : 
 
 The present and the future — both are dark. 
 
 What quarrel had the son of Polybus 
 
 With Lai'us or his house, 49 o 
 
 I neither heard before, nor now have learnt 
 
 Aught that should make me challenge to the proof 
 
 Tr e general praise of Oedipus the king, 
 
 For Lai'us moved with zeal, 
 
 And his mysterious end. 
 
 Wise are the gods: Apollo knows, and Zeus, \Antist. 2. 
 
 What things are done on earth : 
 
 But what know I ? and prophets are but men, 
 
 And, if this seer's voice 500 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Be more than mine, there is no man who knows. 
 
 Yet one man's wit another's may surpass. 
 
 Still, let them talk, I will not say ' Tis so,' 
 
 Until I see the proof. 
 
 Once in our sight he met the winged Pest ; 
 
 We saw him wise, we proved him sweet to Thebes : 
 
 And of this guilt my thoughts 510 
 
 Shall not condemn him now. 
 
 Cre. Friends and my townsmen, hither, having 
 heard 
 With what hard words King Oedipus assails me, 
 I come, impatient. For, in this distress 
 If aught in word or deed importing harm 
 He thinks that he has suffered at my hand, 
 I have no pleasure to prolong my days, 
 Laden with this reproach. No single loss 
 The danger of such charge imports to me, 520 
 
 But loss of all, if base by Thebes, and base 
 By thee and by my friends, I shall be called. 
 
 Chor. Belike this accusation rather came, 
 Forced from his lips by anger, than believed. / 
 
 Cre. What proof had he, that, what the prophet 
 spoke, 
 He falsely spoke, induced by my suggestion ? 
 
 Chor. This charge was made : what prompted it, I 
 know not. 
 
 Cre. With steadfast eyes and mind unfaltering 
 
2 4 OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Against me was this accusation launched ? 
 
 C/wr. I know not : what kings do, I do not see. 530 
 But from the palace look you where he comes. 
 
 Oed. Sirrah, how cam'st thou hither ? Hast thou 
 such 
 A face of boldness, to confront me here, 
 Being, as well appears, my murderer, 
 And of my sovereign place convicted thief? 
 I prithee, say, what cowardice having seen 
 Or folly in me, hast thou devised this deed ? 
 Its stealthy coming-on didst thou suppose 
 I should not mark, nor, if I marked, withstand ? 
 Foolish I rather deem thy rash attempt, 540 
 
 Unhelped by numbers or by friends, to snatch 
 At power, that friends and wealth alone can win. 
 
 Cre. King, be advised. As thou hast said thy say, 
 Hear me say mine, and having heard consider. 
 
 Oed. Thou hast more skill to speak than I to 
 hear 
 Thee, having found thee bitter and unkind. 
 
 Cre. Even of this hear first what I shall say. 
 
 Oed. This, that thou art no traitor, tell me not. 
 
 Cre. If mere self-will, divorced from reason, seems 
 A precious thing to thee, thou art deceived. 550 
 
 Oed. If wronging thus a kinsman thou dost think 
 Thou'lt 'scape the reckoning, thou art deceived. 
 
 Cre. That this is justly said, I do confess : 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 25 
 
 But tell me what's the wrong that thou hast suffered ? 
 
 Oed. Didst thou advise or no, that I should send 
 Some one to bring this reverend man, the prophet ? 
 
 Cre. The counsel that I gave, I'd give again. 
 
 Oed. Say now what time hath passed since La'i'us — 
 
 Cre. Since he did what? I know not what thou 
 askest. 
 
 Oed. Vanished from hence, slain by a murderous 
 blow ? 560 
 
 Cre. The time grows old : 'tis many years agone. 
 
 Oed. And did this prophet then profess his art ? 
 
 Cre. Wise was he then as now, honoured no less. 
 
 Odd. And made he any mention then of me ? 
 
 Cre. Whilst I was standing by to hear him, none. 
 
 Oed. But did ye not inquire who slew your king ? 
 
 C?'e. We asked, as we were bound : but asked in 
 vain. 
 
 Oed. Why did not this wise prophet help you then ? 
 
 Cre. I know not : things beyond me, I let be. 
 
 Oed. But this thou knowest ; and, if thou'rt wise, wilt 
 own. 570 
 
 Cre. What is it ? what I know, I'll not deny. 
 
 Oed. That, had he not conspired with thee, the blood 
 Of Lams to my charge he had not laid. 
 
 Cre. What he hath said, thou knowest : but I claim 
 To question thee, as thou hast questioned me. 
 
 Oed. Ask on : thou wilt not fix this guilt on me. 
 
26 OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Cre. What then ? Hast thou my sister to thy wife ? 
 
 Oed. What thou hast asked, I may not well deny. 
 
 Cre. Reigns she with thee, the partner of thy 
 power ? 579 
 
 Oed. Her will is mine : nought is withheld from her. 
 
 Cre. Equalled with you twain am not I, the third ? 
 
 Oed. How false a friend thou art, appears in this. 
 
 Cre. Not so, if to thyself thou'dst put my case. 
 Consider first — who, thinkest thou, would choose 
 To be a king with dreams of evil cheer, 
 When he might sleep secure, and reign no less ? 
 Think not, I am so much ambition's fool, 
 I'd rather be a king than do like one — 
 So would not I, nor any prudent man, 
 Now without fear I have all things from thee ; 590 
 
 But, were I king, I might not please myself. 
 How should I crave the name of king, who have 
 The power and kingliness without the pain ? 
 I am not yet so senseless, to misprise 
 An honourable lot that costs me nought. 
 Now all men greet me, I am friends with all, 
 And those who'd speak with thee, call me aside ; 
 'Tis the sure way to prosper in their suit : 
 And dost thou think I'd change my place for thine ? 
 I needs must• be a fool to be a traitor. 600 
 
 But neither of such treachery am I fain, 
 Nor to another's plots would I consent. 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 27 
 
 For proof — get thee to Delphi first, and ask, 
 Did I report the oracle aright: 
 This too — if thou dost find that with the seer 
 In aught I have conspired, pronounce my death, 
 Not with one voice but two, both thine and mine. 
 But on mere vague surmise condemn me not. 
 Unjust alike are random trust and blame, 
 To reckon false men true, or true men false : 610 
 
 And one had better lose, what he loves best, 
 His life, than throw away a faithful friend. 
 In time this lesson thou shalt surely learn : 
 For time alone can show the honest man, 
 'But in a single day a knave is known. 
 
 Chor. One who walked warily, Ο king, might own, 
 He argued well : swift judgments are not sure. 
 
 Oed. When secret foes are sudden in attack, 
 Swiftly to meet them must my plans be laid. 
 If I sit still and wait, the moment's gone — 620 
 
 His plans have prospered, mine are frustrated. 
 
 Cre. What wilt thou do then ? Wilt thou banish 
 me? 
 
 Oed. Not banishment, but death, shall be thy doom. 
 
 Cre. When men have seen, and gauged, a tyrant's 
 spite ? 
 
 Oed. Wilt thou defy me, and dispute my will ? 
 
 Cre. I see thy judgment errs. 
 
 Oed. I guard my own. 
 
2S OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Cre. Have I no rights as well ? 
 
 Oed. Thou art a traitor. 
 
 Cre. If thou'rt mistaken ? 
 
 Oed. Yet I must be king. 
 
 Cre. Not if thou rul'st unjustly. 
 
 Oed. Hear him, Thebes ! 
 
 Cre. I have a voice in Thebes, as well as thou. 630 
 
 Chor. Princes, forbear : for hither in good time 
 Comes forth the queen, Jocasta, from the house : 
 The feud that is between you, she may heal. 
 
 Joe. What means this senseless din of warring tongues? 
 Unhappy men, have ye no shame, to voice 
 Your private wrongs, when Thebes is sick to death ? 
 Go thou within, and, Creon, get thee home, 
 Make no more mountains of your molehill griefs. 
 
 Cre. Sister, this man, thy husband, Oedipus, 
 Claims to propound to me a bitter choice — 6 4 o 
 
 To be driv'n from my country, or to die. 
 
 Oed. 'Tis true : for I have found him, good my 
 queen, 
 Contriving with base arts against my life. 
 / Cre. May I not thrive, but be accurst, and perish, 
 [If I have done aught that thou dost pretend ! 
 
 Joe. Ο by the gods, believe him, Oedipus, 
 Revering both this oath which he has sworn, 
 And me, and all this friendly company. 
 
 Chor. Hear us, Ο king, we entreat, 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 29 
 
 With goodwill, and a prudent mind. 650 
 
 Oed. In what, then, shall I yield to you ? 
 
 Chor. Have thou regard to this man, 
 Who never before was foolish, and now 
 In the strength of his oath is strong. 
 
 Oed. Know ye, for what ye ask ? 
 
 Chor. I know. 
 
 Oed. Say, what? 
 
 Chor. The friend, who binds his conscience with an 
 oath, 
 On bare suspicion tax not nor disgrace. 
 
 Oed. But, when ye ask me this, be well assured 
 That death or banishment ye ask for me. 
 
 Chor. By Helios, no — chief of the hosts of heaven ! 660 
 Godless and friendless, if I wish thee ill, 
 To deepest depths of ruin let me fall ! 
 But, seeing all the city perishing, 
 My spirit fails within me, if indeed 
 New ills to former ills your strife shall add. 
 
 Oed. Well — let him go : and let me die outright, 
 Or else be thrust dishonoured from the land. 6 7 o 
 
 Thy mournful pleading moves me : therefore thee, 
 Not him, I pity ; him my hate shall follow. 
 
 Cre. Ungraciously thou yieldest : but for this 
 Thou wilt be sorry when the fit is past. 
 \\Tis just, such tempers most should plague themselves.* ' 
 
 Oed. Wilt thou not hold thy peace and go ? 
 
 \ 
 
3 o OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Cre. I go, 
 
 Stranger d by thee, but trusted by my friends. 
 
 Chor. Lady, why tarriest thou, 
 To shut the doors upon thy lord ? 
 Joe. Not till ye tell me what has chanced. 63o 
 
 Chor. Words have been angrily spoken, 
 Suspicious, impatient, ignorant words, 
 Unjust — but they carry a sting. 
 Joe. From both did they proceed ? 
 Chor. Yes. 
 
 Joe. What was spoken ? 
 
 Chor. Thebes has enough to bear : where the strife 
 rests, 
 There let it end ; and let no more be said. 
 
 Oed. See, with thy friendliness what thou hast done, 
 My will» unbent, and blunted my resolve. 
 
 Chor. King, I have said it and will say it again — 690 
 Ill-counselling nor for wise counsels apt 
 Should I be proved, if thee I now renounce, 
 Who with a straight course home didst safely bring 
 The storm-tossed vessel of my people's hope — 
 And now again conduct us, if thou canst ! 
 
 Joe. I pray thee, king, hide not from me the cause, 
 That to such fierce displeasure thou art moved. 699 
 
 Oed. Yea, for I honour thee, queen, more than these — 
 What Creon hath planned against me, thou shalt hear. 
 Joe. Thy ground of quarrel let me clearly know. 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 31 
 
 Oed. By me he says that Lai'us was slain. 
 
 Joe. As knowing it of himself, or from another ? 
 Oed. A lying prophet he has set to say it ; 
 Nor speaks one word that may commit himself. 
 
 Joe. Why, think no more then of what troubles thee, 
 listen to me ; I tell thee, there is not 
 Any such thing as prophecy on earth. 
 And, what I speak, I'll shortly prove it true. 710 
 
 There came to Lai'us once an oracle, 
 I say not from the god, but from his servants, 
 That fate would bring to pass that he should die 
 Slain by his son, whom I should bear to him. 
 But Lai'us, in a plac e where three roads meet, 
 As rumour went, robbers and strangers slew : 
 And from the child's birth ere three days had passed, 
 Binding his feet with cords, by hands of others 
 On the lone mountain-side his father flung him. 
 So failed Apollo's word that he should slay 720 
 
 His father, and that Lai'us (the fate 
 He feared so much) should by his son be slain. 
 So prophets order the affairs of men ; 
 Whom heed not thou : for, knowledge that the god 
 Seeks to impart, he will himself reveal. 
 
 Oed. Bewilderment, Ο lady, fills my soul, 
 i\Hearing thy word, and troubles all my thoughts. 
 V Joe. What sudden doubt hath so surprised thy mind ? 
 
 Oed. Methought I heard thee say that in a place 
 
 ^^T: 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 
 Where three roads met was La'ius overthrown. 73 o 
 
 Joe. 'Twas rumoured so, and so is still believed. 
 ^__j2^L^Q^E£^SLthe_spot, where this disaster chanced? 
 
 Joe. The land is Phocian, and the branching roads 
 From Delphi and from Daulis thither lead. 
 
 Oed. And how long is it since these things were done? 
 
 Joe. A little ere we hailed thee king of Thebes — 
 So long ago, came tidings of the deed. 
 
 Oed. Ο Zeus, what is thy will concerning me ? 
 
 Joe. What is it that so moves thee, Oedipus ? 739 
 
 Oed. Ask me not yet : but tell me first, how looked 
 This La'ius — how far was his manhood spent ? 
 
 Joe. Tall, and his hair a little mixed with grey, 
 And in his looks not all unlike to thee. 
 
 Oed. Ah me unhappy ! a grievous curse, not knowing, 
 Upon myself it seems that I have laid. 
 
 Joe. AVhat dost thou say ? Ο king, I fear thy face. 
 Oed. I much misdoubt the seer indeed can see. 
 But tell me one thing more, and I shall know. 
 
 Joe. I fear, but what thou askest I will tell. 
 
 Oed. How went he — with a slender company, 750 
 
 Or with a goodly following, like a king ? 
 
 Joe. Five men were all that followed him, and one 
 A herald : and one chariot bore the king. 
 
 Oed. It is enough : there is no doubt. But, lady, 
 What man was he who told this tale in Thebes ? 
 
 Joe. A servant, who alone escaped alive. 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 33 
 
 Oed. About the palace now may he be found ? 
 
 Joe. Not so : for when, come thence, he saw thee 
 throned 
 King in the room of Lai'us who was dead, 759 
 
 He touched my hand, and prayed that I would send him 
 Into the fields, that he might tend the flocks, 
 As far from sight of Thebes as he could go ; 
 And so he went : he was an honest slave. 
 And greater boon than this had well deserved. 
 
 Oed. Let him come hither again without delay. 
 
 Joe. He can be called. But what wouldst thou with 
 him? 
 
 Oed. More than I should, I fear that I myself 
 Have uttered, and would speak with him of this. 
 
 •Joe. The man shall come. But have not I a right 
 To learn, Ο king, what so disquiets thee ? 770 
 
 Oed. What dark forebodings weigh upon my soul, 
 I will not hide from thee. Who if not thou 
 Should share the knowledge of the path I tread ? 
 Polybus, king of Corinth, was my father, 
 My mother Dorian Merope. No peer 
 Had I in Corinth, till upon a day 
 An incident befell, worthy indeed 
 Of wonder, but not worth the heed I paid it. 
 For at a feast a man, heated with wine, 
 _Called me a foundling, not my father's son. 780 
 
 And I, indignant, till that day had passed 
 
34 OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Hardly endured, and on the next I taxed 
 
 My parents face to face ; and they, incensed 
 
 Against the slanderer, brooked not that reproach. 
 
 So was I satisfied by them, and yet 
 
 The rumour grew, and stung me night and day, 
 
 Till I without my parents' knowledge came 
 
 To Delphi. But in vain : Apollo deigned 
 
 No answer to the question that I asked : 
 
 But what a tale instead, as from his lips, 
 
 I heard — of woe and horror and despair ! 790 
 
 That I was doomed to marry with my mother, 
 
 And show the world a sight intolerable, 
 
 The children of that union ; and to be 
 
 The murderer of the father who begat me. 
 
 And hearing this I fled — fled through the night — 
 
 Away from Corinth, never to return — 
 
 Shaping my course by starlight — to a land 
 
 Where I should never see my life fulfil 
 
 The shameful presage of that dreaded doom. 
 
 So came I to the very place whereat 
 
 I hear thee say the king, thy lord, was slain. 
 
 Queen, I will tell thee all. When, journeying, 800 
 
 I drew near to the meeting of the ways, 
 
 There did a herald meet me, and a man 
 
 Rode in a colt-drawn chariot, as thou sayest. 
 
 They met me face to face : and from the path 
 
 Servant and master both essayed to force me. 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 35 
 
 Then I in wrath struck at the charioteer, 
 
 Who turned me back : but, when the old man saw it, 
 
 Waiting until I passed, with double goad 
 
 Full on the head he smote me from above. 
 
 Heavily he paid for it. For in a minute 810 
 
 The good staff in my hand dealt such a blow, 
 
 Backward from the mid-car he reeled and fell. 
 
 I slew them every one. But, if this stranger 
 
 Was any kinsman of the king that's dead, 
 
 Who is more miserable than I this day ? * 
 
 What man could be more hated by the gods ? 
 
 Whom, citizen or stranger, no one must 
 
 Receive under his roof, or speak to me, 
 
 But thrust me from his doors. And it was I, 
 
 No other, who laid this curse upon myself. 820 
 
 i\nd these foul hands, that did the murder, stain 
 
 The bed o' the murdered man. Am I not vile — 
 
 Unclean, from head to foot ? who must pass hence 
 
 Exiled, and passing not reseek my home 
 
 Not tread my native soil, or fear that curst 
 
 Incestuous marriage, and to slay my sire, 
 
 Polybus — from whom I sprang, who reared my youth. 
 
 Should not one justly tax the heavens with spite, 
 
 That rained down such afflictions on my head ? 
 
 Let me not live, ye high and holy gods, 830 
 
 Not live to see that day, but pass away 
 
 From sight of all men first, and not behold 
 
36 OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 The blot of evil, blackening all my life ! 
 
 Chor. Ο king, this troubles us indeed : but, till 
 Thou hear'st from him who saw, hope for the best. 
 
 Oed. Why, so much hope in truth is mine, to wait 
 The shepherd's coming : this, and only this. 
 
 Joe. And should he come — what makes thine eager- 
 ness ? 
 
 Oed. I'll tell thee : if his tale agrees with thine, 
 Then I am free ; there's nought for me to fear. 8 4 o 
 
 Joe. What in my story squared not with thy deed ? 
 
 Oed. Thou saidst he spake of robbers — of a band, 
 Who slew the king. If the same number still 
 He shall report, it was not I who slew him. 
 One man is not mistaken for a host. 
 But let him speak of one sole traveller — 
 That turns the scale : plainly the deed was mine. 
 
 Joe. Doubt not, he told the tale as I have said, 
 And what he spoke he cannot now reject, 
 For all the city heard, not I alone. 850 
 
 But should he swerve aught from his former speech, 
 Yet nowise, king, the death of Laius 
 Shall he show true to promise, whom the god 
 Foredoomed to die, slain by his babe and mine. 
 Yet never did that child, the hapless boy, 
 Slay him — but died himself before his sire ; 
 That never again should I take pains to look 
 This way or that, for fear of prophecy. 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 37 
 
 Oed. I hold with thee in that. But yet send one 
 To bid the hind come hither : omit not this. 860 
 
 Joe. I'll send with speed. But go we now within : 
 For I will nothing do but what thou wouldst. 
 
 Chor. Ο may my constant feet not fail, \Strophe 1. 
 Walking in paths of righteousness, 
 Sinless in word and deed — 
 True to those eternal laws 
 That scale for ever the high steep 
 Of heaven's pure ether, whence they sprang ^ 
 For only in Olympus is their home, 
 Nor mortal wisdom gave them birth, 
 And, howsoe'er men may forget, 
 
 They will not sleep ; 870 
 
 For the might of the god within them grows not old. 
 Rooted in pride, the tyrant grows ; [Antistrophe 1. 
 
 But pride that with its own too-much 
 Is rashly surfeited, 
 Heeding not the prudent mean, 
 Down the inevitable gulf 
 From its high pinnacle is hurled, 
 Where use of feet or foothold there is none.^ 
 But, Ο kind gods, the noble strength, 
 That struggles for the state's behoof, 
 Unbend not yet : 880 
 
 In the gods have I put my trust — I will not fear. 
 But whoso walks disdainfully, \Strophe 2. 
 
38 OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 In act or word, 
 
 And fears not Justice, nor reveres 
 
 The throned gods. 
 
 Him let misfortune slay 
 
 For his ill-starred wantoning, 
 
 Should he heap unrighteous gains, 
 
 Nor from unhallowed paths withhold his feet, 8 9 o 
 
 Or reach rash hands to pluck forbidden fruit. 
 
 Who shall do this, and boast 
 
 That yet his soul is proof 
 
 Against the arrows of offended Heaven ? 
 
 If honour crowns such deeds as these, 
 
 Not song, but silence, then for me ! 
 
 To Earth's dread centre, unprofaned \Antistrophe 2. 
 
 By mortal touch, 
 
 No more with awe will I repair, 
 
 Nor Abae's shrine, 900 
 
 Nor the Olympian plain, 
 
 If the truth stands not confessed, 
 
 Pointed at by all the world. 
 
 Ο Zeus supreme, if rightly thou art called — 
 
 Lord over all — let not these things escape 
 
 Thee and thy timeless sway! 
 
 For now men set at nought 
 
 Apollo's word, and cry ' Behold, it fails ! ' 
 
 His praise is darkened with a doubt ; 
 
 And faith is sapped, and Heaven defied. 910 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 39 
 
 Joe. Elders of Thebes, 'twas borne upon my mind, 
 Shrines of the gods to visit, and to bring 
 These garlands and this incense in my hands. 
 The soul of Oedipus is idly stirred 
 With manifold misgivings ; and, whereas 
 Wise men conclude things present from things past, 
 Him the last speaker sways — who speaks of fear. 
 Now therefore, since my counsel nought avails, 
 To thee, Lyceian Apollo, who art most nigh, 
 With these entreaties suppliant I am come, 920 
 
 That thou wouldst cleanse and make us free from guilt. 
 For now our hearts wax faint, beholding him, 
 The pilot of our ship, distraught with fear. 
 
 Mess. Friends, might I of your courtesy inquire 
 Where is the house of Oedipus the king ? 
 Or, better, where is he — if this ye know ? 
 
 Chor. These are his doors, Ο friend, and he within ; 
 And this his wife, the mother of his children. 
 
 Mess. Blessings on her, and blessings on her house 
 For ever — being a perfect wife to him ! 930 
 
 Joe. I wish thee back thy wishes : for no less 
 Deserves thy courteous speech. But wherefore, friend, 
 Art thou come hither — with what news to tell ? 
 
 Mess. Good news, queen, to thy house, and to thy 
 lord. 
 
 Joe. What news? And by whose sending art thou 
 come? 
 
40 OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Mess. I come from Corinth. Tidings I shall tell — 
 Joyful past doubt, yet haply sorrowful. 
 
 Joe. What tidings — sweet and bitter in a breath ? 
 
 Mess. The people of the Isthmian land are pur- 
 posed — 
 So there 'twas said — to have him for their king. 940 
 
 Joe. How ? Doth not the aged Polybus still reign ? 
 
 Mess. Not he : for death has laid him in the tomb. 
 
 Joe. What sayest thou ? Polybus, old man, is dead ? 
 
 Mess. Let me not live, if I have spoken falsely. 
 
 Joe. Lose not a moment, sirrah ; to thy lord 
 Go, tell this news. Ο oracles of the gods, 
 Where are ye now ? Fearing to slay this man 
 Did Oedipus flee from his home — who now 
 In nature's course, not by his act, is dead. 
 
 Oed. Ο dearest; presence of my wife Jocasta, 950 
 
 Why hast thou called me hither from the house ? 
 
 Joe. Hear this man's news j hear, and perceive, to 
 what 
 The boasted oracles of the gods are come. 
 
 Oed. Who is the man ? what tidings does he bring ? 
 
 Joe. From Corinth he reports that Polybus, 
 Thy father, lives no longer, but is dead. 
 
 Oed. How, sirrah ? From thine own lips let me 
 hear it. 
 
 Mess. If first thou'dst have the certainty of this 
 Doubt not, but know, that Polybus is dead. 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 41 
 
 Oed. Visited by sickness, or by treason slain ? 960 
 
 Mess. The lives of old men hang upon a thread. 
 
 Oed. Poor soul, 'twas sickness, then, that took him 
 off? 
 
 Mess. That, and the length of years which weighed 
 him down. 
 
 Oed. Alas, why then, Ο queen, should men regard 
 The Delphian hearth prophetic, or the birds 
 That scream i' the air; by whose direction I 
 Was to have slain my father — but he is dead 
 And in his grave, and I remain, whose hand 
 No sword came near ; unless for love of me 
 He pined away — and so I caused his death : — 970 
 
 But certainly this prophecy at least 
 Is with the dead man buried, out of mind. 
 
 Joe. Said I not from the first this would be so ? 
 
 Oed. Ay, so thou didst : but me my fears misled. 
 
 Joe. Bid now thy fears farewell : despond no more. 
 
 Oed. My mother's couch how can I cease to fear ? 
 Joe. Why should men fear, who see that chance rules 
 all, 
 And forecast of the future there is none ? 
 Careless to live, as best one can, is best. 
 And this unnatural union fear not thou : 980 
 
 For many a man ere now, aghast, has dreamed 
 Of coupling with a mother. But who sets 
 At naught sucn fancies, bears life's burden best. 
 
42 OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Oed. All this indeed were well and wisely spoken, 
 Did not my mother live : but, while she lives, 
 How true soe'er thy words, I needs must fear. 
 Joe. Is not thy father's death new sight to thee? 
 
 Oed. Ay, there I see : yet dread the living mother. 
 
 Mess. What woman is it of whom ye are afraid ? 
 
 Oed. The wife of Polybus, Merope, old man. 990 
 
 Mess. And what see ye in her that tends to fear ? 
 
 Oed. A dreadful prophecy the god has uttered. 
 
 Mess. May it be spoken ? Or must no man know it ? 
 
 Oed. Nay, thou shalt hear. To marry with my mother — 
 This doom hath Loxias pronounced for me, 
 And with these hands to shed my father's blood. 
 And therefore far from Corinth many a day 
 My life was passed : and this was well — and yet 
 Into their parents' eyes men love to look. 
 
 Mess. Was this the fear that banished thee from 
 thence ? 1000 
 
 Oed. This-^and my father's murderer not to be. 
 
 Mess. What hinders then, that, as I came thy friend, 
 I from this fear, king, should deliver thee ? 
 
 Oed. I should not prove a niggard of my thanks. 
 
 Mess. Indeed to this end chiefly did I come, 
 That I might profit by thy coming home. 
 
 Oed. Beneath my parents' roof I may not come. 
 
 Mess. 'Tis plain, my son, thou know'st not what thou 
 doest. 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 43 
 
 Oed. What meanest thou, old man ? I prithee, speak. 
 Mess. If for this cause thou dost avoid thy home, ioio 
 Oed. Yea, for I fear lest the god's word come true. 
 Mess. Pollution from thy parents dost thou fear ? 
 Oed. This ever — this, old man, makes me afraid. 
 Mess. Then dost thou know thou startest at a shadow ? 
 Oed. How, if these were my parents, I their son ? 
 Mess. Because no kin was Polybus to the 
 
 Oed. What dost thou tell me? was he not my 
 
 father ? 
 Mess. As much — no more than I who speak to thee. 
 Oed. Thou'rt nought to me — how then my father's 
 
 equal ? 
 Mess. Neither from his loins didst thou spring, nor 
 
 mine. 1020 
 
 Oed. How did he let me then be called his son ? 
 Mess. From my hands he received thee as a gift. 
 Oed. And yet a foundling he so greatly loved ? 
 Mess. Persuaded by his former childlessness. 
 Oed. Was I thine own, or purchased with thy gold ? 
 Mess. Among Kithaeron's wooded folds I found thee. 
 Oed. What errand led thee to the mountain ways ? 
 Mess. The sheep upon the mountain were my 
 
 charge. 
 Oed. Wast thou a vagrant and a hireling shepherd ? 
 Mess. But on that day, my son, I rescued thee. 1030 
 Oed. In what distress, forsaken, didst thou find me ? 
 
44 
 
 OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Mess. Thy bruised feet may testify of this. 
 
 Oed. Ha, thou hast harped upon an ancient grief! 
 
 Mess. I loosed thy feet, pierced through and bound 
 with cords. 
 
 Oed. Ο dread memorial of my childhood's shame ! 
 
 Mess. So that from this misfortune thou wast named. 
 
 T)ed. By father or mother was this done ? Ο say ! 
 
 Mess. Not I, but he who gave thee, should know this. 
 
 Oed. Thou didst receive me, then, and didst not find 
 me ? 1039 
 
 Mess. Nay, from another shepherd's hands I had thee. 
 
 Oed. Who was he ? Dost thou know how to describe 
 him ? 
 
 Mess. He fed the sheep of Laius, as I heard. 
 
 Oed. Of him who was aforetime king of Thebes ? 
 
 Mess. Ay, that was he : his feeder this man was. 
 
 Oed. Is the man still alive, that I may see him ? 
 
 Mess. That should be best known to your Theban 
 folk. 
 
 Oed. Is any one among the standers-by 
 Who knows about this hind, of whom he speaks — 
 Has seen him, in the city or the fields ? 
 Speak out : the time has come to find the truth. 1050 
 
 Chor. I think he is none other than the man 
 
 Whose presence from the fields thou didst desire : 
 But the queen best can tell if this be so. 
 
 Oed. Lady, thou mindest him, whom we erewhile 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 45 
 
 Bade summon hither ? Spake this man of him ? 
 
 j Joe. What skills of whom he spake ? Heed not his 
 
 talk : 
 Vainly it were remembered : let it pass. 
 
 Oed. This cannot be, that having found this clue 
 I should not bring my parentage to light. 
 
 r oe. As thou dost love thy life, inquire no more — 1060 
 
 I charge thee by the gods : my grief's enough. 
 
 Oed. Nay, never fear \ for, though three mothers back 
 Should stamp me thrice a slave, thou shalt not blush. 
 Joe. Yet be advised, I pray thee, and forbear. 
 Oed. I'll not consent not to learn all the truth. 
 Joe. Ah, yet in prudence I advise the best. 
 Oed. Too long thou dost torment me with this best. 
 Joe. Ο may'st thou never know what man thou art ! 
 Oed. Will some one go and bring the shepherd 
 hither ? 
 And let this woman of rich kinsmen boast. 1070 
 
 Joe. Woe to thee, miserable ! no other word 
 Have I for thee — now or for evermore ! [She goes out. 
 
 C/ior. What sudden frenzy, Oedipus, of grief 
 Swept hence the queen ? To mischief, much I fear, 
 Her passion, from this silence, will break forth. 
 
 Oed. Break forth to what it will — yet I will choose 
 To trace, though mean, the sources of my blood. 
 Perchance this woman, more than women proud, 
 Of my ignoble lineage is ashamed. 
 
φ OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 But I am not dishonoured, since I deem 1080 
 
 Myself a child of Fortune, ever kind. 
 
 She truly is my mother, and the months, 
 
 Her children too, have made me small and great. 
 
 This, which I am, I cannot cease to be, 
 
 That I should fear the secret of my birth. 
 
 Chor. If with my human wit [Strophe, 
 
 The future I can read — 
 Olympus, hear me swear, 
 That of Kithaeron, all the moonlit night, 
 When next the moon's at full, 
 
 Our praises shall not fail — _ 1090 
 
 Of Oedipus compatriot true, 
 And nurse, and mother proved : 
 Nor shall the mountain miss 
 Due meed of dance and song 
 For kindness rendered to our lord the king. 
 Ο Phoebus, hear our cry, 
 And let our prayer with thee acceptance find ! 
 Thy mother, Ο fair son — \Antistrophe. 
 
 Some mountain nymph was she, 
 In fadeless beauty clad, 
 
 Whom Pan upon the mountain saw and loved ? noo 
 Or her to his embrace 
 Did Loxias woo and win ? 
 For well our pastoral lawns he loves : 
 Or else Kyllene's lord, 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 47 
 
 Or Bacchus, who delights 
 
 The mountain-peaks to haunt — 
 
 Did some fair nymph o' the Heliconian train 
 
 (His playmates best-beloved) 
 
 Leave on the hills his babe for him to find ? 
 
 Oed. If I may make conjecture, friends, of one mo 
 Whose face I never saw, here comes methinks 
 The shepherd of our quest. For, full of years, 
 Chimes with this man the measure of his age : 
 Besides, my servants lead him, whom I know — 
 My own : yet may my knowledge be surpassed 
 Perchance by thine, who hast this shepherd seen. 
 
 Chor. I know him, doubtless. No more trusty fellow 
 Had Lai'us for a herdsman, sire, than he. 
 
 Oed. Thee, sir, who art from Corinth, first I ask, 
 Is this the man ? 
 
 Mess. This, whom thine eyes behold. 1120 
 
 Oed. Now, aged sir, for thee : look hither and speak 
 To what I ask. Didst thou serve Lai'us ? 
 
 Serv. Not bought, but of his household born and bred. 
 
 Oed. Minding what task — to what employment bound ? 
 
 Serv. Most of my time I followed with the flocks. 
 
 Oed. And whereabouts didst thou thy shepherding? 
 
 Serv. Now 'twas Kithaeron, now some neighbour hill. 
 
 Oed. Hadst thou with this man any dealings there ? 
 
 Serv. What made he there ? Of what man dost thou 
 ask? 
 
4 8 OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Oed. AVho stands before thee : hast thou met him 
 ever ? 113° 
 
 Serv. I cannot on the instant call to mind. 
 
 Mess. No marvel, sire, if he forgets : but soon 
 Clearly he shall remember. Well I know, 
 He knows the time when on Kithaeron's slopes 
 He fed two flocks together ; while with one, 
 From springtide till Arcturus, year by year, 
 Three times, each time six months, I was his neighbour : 
 Then, for the winter, home we drove our sheep, 
 He to the folds of Lai'us, I to mine : 
 Sounds this like truth, or have I dreamed it all ? "40 
 
 Serv. No dream, but truth, though it is long since then. 
 
 Mess. A child thou gavest me — dost thou remember ? 
 A tender babe, to nurse him for my own. 
 
 Serv. What wouldst thou have ? Why dost thou ask 
 me this ? 
 
 Mess, The child became a man : look where he 
 stands ! 
 
 Serv. Hence to perdition — go ; and cease thy prate ! 
 
 Oed. Ah, do not chide, old man, his speaking : thine 
 Of such reproof stands more in need than his. 
 
 Serv. Most gracious sire, wherein do I offend ? 
 
 Oed. Not speaking of the child of whom he asks. 1150 
 
 Serv. This trail is false : he speaks he knows not what. 
 
 Oed. In kindness thou'lt not speak : perforce thou 
 shalt. 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 49 
 
 Serv. Me, who am old, I pray thee, do not harm ! 
 Oed. Let some one bind me, quick, this fellow's 
 
 arms. 
 Serv. Alas, for what ? What more wouldst thou be 
 
 told? 
 Oed. Thou gavest him this child of whom he asks ? 
 Serv. Would I had died that day ! but so I did. 
 Oed. Thou'lt come to this, not speaking all the truth. 
 Serv. Much more, if I shall speak, I am undone. 
 Oed. This man, it seems, will palter with us yet. χ 160 
 Serv. What paltering ? Said I not, I gave the child ? 
 Oed. Whose was the babe ? another's or thine own ? 
 Serv. Nay, none of mine : one gave him to my 
 
 hands. 
 Oed. Which of these Thebans gave — where dwelt the 
 
 man ? 
 Serv. No more : by heaven, Ο king, ask me no more. 
 Oed. Thou art undone, if I must ask again. 
 Serv. Born in the house of Laius was the child. 
 Oed. And of the king's blood was he, or a slave ? 
 Serv. Now, now, ah me, the fatal word's to speak. 
 Oed. Fatal for me to hear : but I must hear it. 117° 
 Serv. His child 'twas called indeed : but one within, 
 Thy queen, can best attest if this was so. 
 Oed. She gave thee, then, the babe ? 
 Serv. My lord, she did. 
 
 Oed. And wherefore did she so ? 
 
 D 
 
 
50 OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Serv. That it might die. 
 
 Oed. cruel mother ! 
 
 Serv. Dire prophecies she feared. 
 
 Oed. What were they ? 
 
 Serv. That the child should slay his sire. 
 
 Oed. How then gav'st thou the child to this old 
 man ? 
 
 Serv. For pity, Ο master : to another land 
 Thinking that he would bear it, whence he came. 
 Ο woful life, ill-saved ! For, if thou art n8o 
 
 What this man says, thou art most miserable. 
 
 Oed. Out and alas ! so al ljtt last comes true ! 
 Here let me look my last upon the sun, 
 That sees me father'd, mother'd, wived amiss, 
 And, whom I should not, sees that I have slain. 
 
 Chor. Ο generations of the race of men, [Strophe ι . 
 How all as if ye were not I account 
 This human life ye live. 
 For which, Ο which of you may hope to win 
 Of bliss a larger share, «go 
 
 Than just enough to seem, 
 Then from that seeming to decline ? 
 I, with thy fate for proof, 
 Thine, thine, Ο hapless Oedipus, 
 May deem no mortal blest : 
 
 Who as a master-bowman cleft the mark, [Antistr. i. 
 And all-admired prosperity he won — 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 51 
 
 Ο Zeus, and is this he ? — 
 
 Against that maiden with her vulture claws, 
 
 And subtle songs of doom, 
 
 He rose, a tower of strength, I2 °° 
 
 And slew her, and our lives redeemed : 
 
 We hailed him then our king, 
 
 Our worship at his feet we laid : 
 
 This mighty Thebes he ruled. 
 
 [Strophe 2. 
 
 Now what name sounds more lamentable than his ? 
 
 Or who, in life's reverse, 
 
 With fierce calamity hath dwelt, 
 
 And anguish, like to this ? 
 I Where is his glory now, 
 
 Whom, entering rash that chamber, son with sire, 
 
 The same wide harbour hath received ? ian 
 
 How could, how could, Ο hapless Oedipus, 
 
 The furrows of thy father's field 
 
 So long in silence bear with thee ? 
 
 [Antistrophe 2. 
 y. 1 But now all-seeing Time hath found and doomed 
 ί\ This thine unconscious sin — 
 
 In guilty union linked with one, 
 
 Thy mother, and thy wife. 
 
 Ο son of Lai'us, thee 
 
 I would that never, never I had seen ! 
 
 No measure of my grief I know, 
 
52 OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Nor how my cries to stint. For, sooth to tell, 1220 
 
 Thou didst my life renew, and now 
 Because of thee my days are dark. 
 
 Mess. Ο ye most honoured ever of this land, 
 What deeds your ears, your eyes, what grief your souls 
 Shall know, if for the race of Labdacus 
 Ye from your hearts are careful as of old. 
 Not Ister's flood, nor Phasis, as I think, 
 With pure ablution could make clean this house — 
 Such guilt it hides — and other guilt full soon, 
 Willing and not unwilling, shall disclose : 1230 
 
 Worst grief of all, when men afflict themselves. 
 
 Chor. That which we knew before lacked not to be 
 Most lamentable ; what hast thou more to tell ? 
 
 Mess. Word soonest told and soonest heard is this — 
 The godlike presence of the queen is dead. 
 
 Chor. Unhappy lady, what cause had she to die ? 
 
 Mess. Her own rash act : the worst of what was done 
 Thou canst not know, not having it to see, 
 But yet, far as my memory may serve, 
 The tale of her undoing thou shalt hear. 1240 
 
 Soon as in that fierce mood she came inside 
 The porch of the house, straight to her nuptial couch 
 She hied, with all the strength of both her hands 
 Rending her hair, and violently she made 
 The doors upon herself, and called aloud 
 On Lai'us, her dead lord, and made her moan 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 53 
 
 Of that her ancient childbed, whence he gat 
 A son that slew himself — and died and left 
 That mother to that son, quick-wombed to bear 
 Offspring accursed : Ο hateful marriage-bed, 
 Twice fruitful, whence to her, ill-starred, there sprang 
 Husband from husband, children from her child ! 1250 
 So much I know, but know not how she died : 
 For in there burst, with outcries loud, the king, 
 And filled my sight : her end I might not see. 
 But him my eyes still followed where he roamed, 
 Now here, now there, craving of us a sword, 
 And where to find that wife, no wife indeed, 
 Mother and wife in one, a field twice-tilled, 
 That bore himself for fruit, and fruit to him. 
 So as he raved, some god directed him — 
 No man at least, of us who watched him there : 
 And with a dreadful cry he leapt against 1260 
 
 The folded doors, as one had led the way, 
 And from their sockets burst the bending bolts, 
 And entered. Hanging there — the queen we saw 
 Tight in the death-grip of a pendent cord. 
 With one dread voice of horror at that sight 
 He loosed the hanging noose, and on the ground 
 Laid down the piteous corse : and then we saw 
 A dreadful sight : for, tearing from her robe 
 ~The golden clasp that pinned its folds aright, 
 He smote and stabbed the circles of his eyes, 1270 
 

 54 OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Exclaiming, that on him they should not look, 
 
 What things he suffered and what things he did; 
 
 Nor see henceforth whom not to see behoved — 
 
 See and mistake those whom he craved to know. 
 
 Such burden chanting, he full many a time 
 
 With lifted hand struck at his eyes : and both 
 
 Their bleeding orbs rained forth unceasingly 
 
 Great drops of oozing gore that drenched his beard, 
 
 Two pelting showers together of dark red hail. 
 
 Such sudden doom, not single, his and hers, 1280 
 
 On both, by act of both, hath broken forth. 
 
 Gone is the former bliss, which, while it was, 
 
 Was bliss indeed : a day, and all is changed, 
 
 Wailing and woe are here, and death, and shame, 
 
 And all are here, all evils that are named. 
 
 Chor. From grief, poor soul, what respite finds he 
 now ? 
 
 Mess. Loudly he bids unbolt the doors, and let 
 All eyes in Thebes look on the parricide, 
 "Who with his mother — unhallowed deeds he names 
 Nameless for me ! — then from the land he will 1290 
 
 Banish himself, nor here abide the curse 
 Himself invoked. But strength he lacks, and one 
 To lead him : his affliction else is more 
 Than he can bear. Look for thyself. I hear 
 The bolts undraw. A sight thou shalt behold, 
 Should wring compassion even from his foes. 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 55 
 
 Chor. Ο woful plight for men to see, 
 Most woful sight that ever I have seen ! 
 What madness, Ο unhappy king, 
 Possessed thee ? On thine ill-starred life, 1300 
 
 A leap beyond all measure of how far, 
 What god hath leapt ? 
 I cannot bear to look on thee, 
 Albeit of many things I fain would ask, 
 Of many things my ears, my eyes inform : 
 Such shuddering takes hold of me. 
 
 Oed. Alas, alas unhappy that I am ! 
 Whither I wend, I know not ; and my voice , 
 To the four winds of heaven is idly borne. 13 10 
 
 Whereunto hath this fierce fate leapt on me ? 
 
 Chor. To horror, neither to be heard nor seen. 
 
 Oed. Ο thou thick cloud of darkness, 
 That on my life hast settled, 
 Abominable, unutterable, 
 Indomitable, 
 
 By pitiless winds swept hitherward on me ; 
 Alas! 
 
 And yet again, alas, and woe is me.! 
 Such maddening pain 
 Of those sharp daggers at my eyes, 
 Blent with remembrance of my misery, 
 Pierces my inmost soul. 
 
 Chor. No marvel if, in such extremity, 
 
56 OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Thy grief is twofold, as thy suffering is. 1320 
 
 Oed. Ο my good friend, 
 I am not then forsaken yet of thee ? 
 Ο constant friend, who of thy love for me 
 Yet weariest not though I am blind ! — Ah me ! 
 Ah woe is me ! 
 
 Spite of this darkness, yet I know thee well, 
 Hearing thy voice : a friend hath no disguise. 
 
 Chor. Ο rash and overbold, how didst thou dare 
 Mar thus thy sight ? What god stirred thee to this ? 
 
 Oed. Apollo, Ο my friends, 
 Apollo on my life 
 
 This evil doom, this evil doom hath laid ; 1330 
 
 But no hand dealt, 
 
 No hand save mine alone, the grievous blow : 
 For what to me did eyes avail, 
 Who seeing had no pleasant sight to see ? 
 
 Chor. Even as thou sayest, so it was. 
 
 Oed. What should my eyes behold, 
 Or heart desire, or ears 
 Take pleasure any more 
 Of human speech, Ο friends, to hear : 
 Convey me hence as quickly as ye may, i 34 o 
 
 Hence, Ο my friends, from all men's sight, 
 Me, most pernicious — me, 
 Of mortals most accurst, 
 And hated by the gods of all men most 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 57 
 
 Chor. Would God that I had never seen thy face, 
 In wisdom as in fortune all unblest ! 
 
 Oed. Perish the man who found me 
 On the wild mountain-side, 
 
 And from the cruel cords that bound my feet 1350 
 
 Loosed me, and rescued me, and saved from death, 
 A kindness most unkind : 
 For then should I have died, 
 Not lived, to grieve my friends and vex myself. 
 
 Chor. My wish in this consents to thine. 
 
 Oed. So had I not my father slain, 
 And not been called by all the world 
 Husband of her from whom I sprang : 
 Now I am godless — son of an impious race — 1360 
 
 Wedded, Ο miserable, with her from whom I sprang. 
 All misery that misery exceeds 
 Hath Oedipus obtained. 
 
 Chor. I know not how to say thou hast counselled 
 well : 
 Better thou hadst not been than blind to live. 
 
 Oed. That I have done what was not best to do, 
 Instruct me not, nor counsel any more. 1370 
 
 I know not with what eyes I should have met 
 My father face to face in the halls of death, 
 Or that my wretched mother — having done 
 Wrongs worse than hanging both to him and her. 
 But was the sight of children then so dear, 
 
58 OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 For me to see them, born as they were born ? 
 Nay, to my eyes no welcome sight were they, 
 Nor yet this city, nor these towers of Thebes, 
 Nor sacred shrines o' the gods, wherefrom I wretched 
 Who once most nobly lived of all in Thebes 1380 
 
 . Debarred myself, myself charging all men 
 To drive me forth, the impious one, by heaven 
 Proclaimed unclean — and son of Lai'us. 
 How, having brought home to myself such guilt, 
 With steadfast eyes this people could I face ? 
 Nay but, the fount of hearing in mine ears 
 Could I have choked withal, I had not spared 
 This miserable body to seal up, 
 
 That sight nor sound had reached me : could my soul 
 So dwell, fenced round from evil, that were bliss. 1390 
 Why did Kithaeron nurse me ? Why not rather 
 Take me and slay me there, never to show 
 The shuddering world the secret of my birth ? 
 Ο Polybus, Ο Corinth, and Ο home 
 That once I deemed my sire's, what festering sore 
 Lurked underneath your love that showed so fair ! 
 Vile of a vile race I am found the son. 
 Ο triple ways», and dark mysterious dell, 
 Where 'neath the copse the three roads straitly met, 
 Ο ye that from my hands drank deep my blood, 1400 
 My father's that I shed, do ye remember 
 What deed ye saw me do, ere hither I came, 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 59 
 
 And did what deeds again ? Ο marriage-bed 
 
 My bed of birth, that bore me, and again 
 
 By that self seed requickened gave to view 
 
 The father, brother, son, one blood with her, 
 
 That bride, both wife and mother : Ο horrid sight 
 
 Of deeds most shameful that on earth are done ! 
 
 But, since of things ill done 'tis ill to speak, 
 
 Now by the gods make haste and hale me forth 1410 
 
 And hide me hence, or slay, or in the deep 
 
 Fling me where ye shall see me never more. 
 
 Shrink not to touch me, wretched that I am : 
 
 Fear nothing, but consent. For this my load 
 
 Of sorrow none may bear but I alone. 
 
 Chor. Lo timely to thine asking, even now, 
 To do and to advise, comes Creon — he, 
 Who single in thy stead protects the land. 
 
 Oed. Ah me, what speech to him shall I address ? 
 What plea shall now suffice me ? for to him 1420 
 
 All that I said before is found unjust. 
 
 Cre. I am not come to mock thee, Oedipus, 
 Nor to reproach thee with the former wrong. 
 But ye — grown reckless that the sons of men 
 Should see such sight unblest, yet to the beam, 
 All-quickening, of the Sun-god fear to show, 
 Unveiled, a man impure, whom earth rejects, 
 And rain that drops from heaven, and holy light. 
 Into the house conduct him speedily. 
 
Co OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Most right it is, the evils of their kin 1430 
 
 Kinsmen should see and hear, and none but they. 
 
 Oed. By heaven, for thou hast plucked my fears away, 
 With nobleness requiting me most vile, 
 Grant, for thy sake, not mine, the boon I crave. 
 
 Cre. With what request dost thou importune me ? 
 
 Oed. Make haste to banish me out of this land, 
 Where none shall see me, none shall speak to me. 
 
 Cre. Surely ere now I had done this, but first 
 I wished to learn the pleasure of the god. 1439 
 
 Oed. One voice we heard from him, to let me perish, 
 The parricide, the impious that I am. 
 
 Cre. It was reported so : but in this need 
 'Twere best we should learn further what to do. 
 
 Oed. Will ye inquire for one so miserable ? 
 
 Cre. 'Tis time that even thou shouldst trust the gods. 
 
 Oed. Thou therefore do my bidding, and consent : — 
 Bury indeed the woman in the house 
 According to thy pleasure : 'tis thy right, 
 For she is thine : but doom not me alive 
 Here in my father's city to abide : i 45 o 
 
 Out on the mountain yonder let me dwell, 
 Kithaeron called, and mine, that living tomb 
 My parents gave me once to be my own : 
 So shall their murderous will at last be done. 
 And yet I know no sickness and no harm 
 Could touch me then : else had I not been saved 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Out of that death, but to fulfil my doom. 
 
 So be that doom fulfilled, whate'er it be. 
 
 But for my children, Creon — for the boys 
 
 No need that thou shouldst care : for they are men, 1460 
 
 And cannot starve, wherever they may be — 
 
 But of my daughters twain, poor helpless maids, 
 
 Whose place at board was ever at my side, 
 
 One board for me and them, one fare for both, 
 
 And nothing that I touched they might not share — 
 
 Care thou for them : and let me, if I may, 
 
 Touch them but once, and weep, and bid farewell. 
 
 Grant this, Ο prince, 
 
 Out of thy noble heart. For, might I touch them, 
 
 My own, as when I saw them, they would seem. — 1470 
 
 What do I say ? 
 
 Ο heaven, do I not hear my darlings somewhere 
 
 Weeping, and Creon has had pity on me, 
 
 And brought them here, my children, my beloved ? 
 
 Is it not so ? 
 
 Cre. I brought them here indeed, thee having seen / 
 In former days delighted even as now. 
 
 Oed. Ο for this meeting be thou blest, and safe 
 In heaven's good keeping rest, more safe than I ! i 479 
 Children, where are ye ? Come hither and draw near, 
 To these fraternal hands, my hands that have 
 A goodly sight provided you to see, 
 Your father's eyes, dark now, that once were bright, 
 
02 OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 Since you I gat whence I myself was born, 
 Seeing and knowing not what now appears. 
 Children, I see you not, but weep for you, 
 Of your sad life's remainder when I think, 
 What life abhorred by men ye both shall lead. 
 Into what concourse or what festival 
 Of Thebans shall ye come, nor thence go home 1490 
 
 Blind with your tears, that festal sight unseen ? 
 And, when at last for marriage ye are ripe, 
 Who will consent, Ο children, who will dare 
 Such scathing taunts to meet as then shall light 
 Both on my parents and on yours no less ? 
 For what reproach is wanting ? I, your father, 
 My father slew, and with the mother couched 
 From whom my life began ; and, from the womb 
 That bare your sire, ye to your sire were born. 
 Such taunts shall ye endure. Who then will wed 
 you ? 1500 
 
 No man, my daughters, none ; but certainly 
 Unwedded and unfruitful ye shall pine. 
 Son of Menoeceus, then — for thou art left 
 Sole father that they have — since parents both 
 They both have lost — Ο leave them not to wander 
 Begging their bread, unhusbanded, thy kin ; 
 Let them not in misfortune rival me : 
 But pity them, seeing their tender years 
 Left destitute and friendless, but for thee. 
 
OEDIPUS THE KING. 63 
 
 Lay hand in mine ; be noble, and consent. 1510 
 
 And you, my children, could ye mark my words, 
 Much had I counselled : now, pray this for me, 
 To live where chance will have me — but that you 
 A better than your father's life may find, 
 
 Cre. Thou hast had enough of weeping : now within 
 the house begone. 
 
 Oed. I must do, though hard, thy bidding. 
 
 Cre. All things are, in season, best, 
 
 Oed. On what terms I go, thou knowest ? 
 
 Cre. Let me hear, then I shall know. 
 
 Oed. From the land I must be banished. 
 
 Cre. With the god thy asking rests. 
 
 Oed. Am I not of gods most hated ? 
 
 Cre. Therefore thou shalt have thy wish. 
 
 Oed. Is it promised? 3520 
 
 Cre. I have said it : what I say shall be performed. 
 
 Oed. 'Tis enough ; now hence conduct me. 
 
 Cre. Loose thy daughters, then, and go. 
 
 Oed. Do not take from me my children. 
 
 Cre. • Something be content to yield : 
 
 More thou hast obtained already than thy life had well 
 deserved. 
 
 Char. Look and learn, all Theban people, and this 
 Oedipus behold, 
 This, that read the famous riddle, and we hailed him 
 chief of men, 
 
64 OEDIPUS THE KING. 
 
 And his glory and his fortune was no Theban but 
 admired — 
 
 Now upon his head the billows of disaster dire are 
 poured. 
 
 Therefore, waiting still and watching for that final day of 
 all, 
 
 On no mortal man the verdict ' He is happy ' we pro- 
 nounce, 1529 
 
 Till his goal of life he passes, clear of sorrow to the close. 
 
OEDIPUS AT COLONUS 
 
PERSONS. 
 
 Oedipus. 
 
 Theseus. 
 
 Creon. 
 
 polyneices. 
 
 Athenian Stranger. 
 
 Messenger. 
 
 Antigone. 
 
 Ismene. 
 
 Chorus of Elders of Colonus. 
 
SDeDipus at Colonus 
 
 Oed. ANTIGONE, daughter of this old blind man, 
 •*- *■ Say to what land come we, what city of 
 men? 
 Who to this houseless Oedipus will yield 
 The hospitable pittance of to-day ? 
 Little indeed I crave, and, though men give 
 Ev'n less than little, yet so am I content. 
 Three teachers teach me patience — grief, and time, 
 Companion old — these, and a noble mind. 
 But now, child, look where I may sit me down : 
 Be it common ground or by some grove of gods — 10 
 Conduct me, set me there ; so might we learn, 
 Whither we are come. Strangers of denizens 
 We needs must ask, and as we hear must act. 
 
 Ant. Ο father Oedipus, toil-worn, far hence 
 I see indeed the city fenced with towers ; 
 But, doubt not, holy ground is this, thick-set 
 With olive, laurel, and vine, in whose deep shade 
 The frequent nightingales make melody. 
 Here, on this unhewn slab, sit down and rest : 
 Far hast thou journeyed for an old man's strength. 20 
 
68 OEDIPUS AT COLONUS. 
 
 Oed. Here set me then — with heed, the sightless 
 one. 
 
 Ant. That duty I have learned, if time can teach. 
 
 Oed. Canst thou yet tell me of our whereabouts ? 
 
 Ant. 'Tis Athens yonder, but this place I know- 
 not. 
 
 Oed. So much we heard from every wayfarer. 
 
 Ant. Shall I go hence, ask how the spot is called ? 
 
 Oed. If men may here inhabit, surely go. 
 
 Ant. Inhabitants there are. But go belike 
 I need not ; for I see some one approach. 
 
 Oed. Bends he toward us his steps and his intent ? 30 
 
 Ant. Already he draws nigh. Whate'er thou hast 
 Timely to speak, speak, for the man is here. 
 
 Oed. Friend, for I learn, from who hath sight for me 
 And for herself, thy coming — whose timely speech 
 May of thy knowledge help our ignorance 
 
 Stra. Before thou questionest farther, from this 
 seat 
 Rise, get thee gone : for here no foot may tread. 
 
 Oed. What is the place ? what god possesses it ? 
 
 Stra. Untouched, unlodged in. For the goddesses, 
 Earth's and the Night's dread daughters, here abide. 40 
 
 Oed. Say by what awful name are they invoked ? 
 
 Stra. Our people call them the Eumenides, 
 All-seeing : other names elsewhere they love. 
 
 Oed. So greet they graciously their suppliant, 
 
Ο Ε DIPUS AT COL ONUS. 6.9 
 
 As this land's sanctuary I quit no more ! 
 
 Stra. What speech is this ? 
 
 Oed. Speech that declares my state. 
 
 Stra. Nay, nor I dare not raise thee hence, myself — 
 But seek our city's warrant, how to act. 
 
 Oed. Nay, I implore thee, stranger, scorn me not, 
 Poor wanderer as I am — but tell me this. 50 
 
 Stra. Speak, and of me thou shalt not suffer scorn. 
 
 Oed. How call ye then this place wherein we stand ? 
 
 Stra. Attend, and what's my knowledge shall be 
 thine. 
 This ground indeed is sacred all, possessed 
 By great Poseidon, and by the god fire-fraught, 
 Titan Prometheus ; but where thy feet are set 
 Men call brass-paven threshold of the land, 
 Coign-rock of Athens ; and the neighbour fields 
 Boast for their prince the hero of the steed, 
 Colonus there, behold him ; by whose name, 60 
 
 The one good name for all, his folk are called. 
 Thou hast it now, our hamlet's lore — unsung 
 Of poet, treasured in its people's love. 
 
 Oed. The place, then, hath a people of its own ? 
 
 Stra. A people, truly, nam 2d after the god. 
 
 Oed. Ruled by a prince, or by the general voice ? 
 
 Stra. The king o' the city is our ruler too. 
 
 Oed. Who wields such potency of voice and hand ? 
 
 Stra. King Theseus, in his father Aegeus' room. 
 
7o OEDIPUS AT COLONUS. 
 
 Oed. Would some one go from hence, to bring him 
 hither ? 70 
 
 Stra. Charged to what end to bid or urge him come ? 
 
 Oed. Poor service done, to reap a rich reward. 
 
 Stra. How can a blind man do him any good ? 
 
 Oed. Words I shall speak, nowise bereft of sight. 
 
 Stra. Heed, friend, meantime, my counsel : — since 
 indeed 
 Noble thou seemest, setting thy fate aside : — 
 Here, where I found thee, still remain ; the while, 
 Not in the city, but to our neighbours here, 
 I tell thy tale. They shall pronounce for thee 
 Leave to remain, or bid thee hence retire. 80 
 
 Oed. Say, hath the stranger left us, child, and gone ? 
 
 Ant. Gone, father ; so that thou mayest speak thy 
 mind 
 Out freely, none to hear thy speech but I. 
 
 Oed. Ο dreadful Forms august, whose sanctuary, 
 This land's first refuge, rests these wearied limbs — 
 Have no illwill to Phoebus and to me — 
 Phoebus, who prophesied of all that grief, 
 But this my rest after long years foretold — 
 Such land my goal, where I should win at last 
 Of awful Powers a hospitable seat j 90 
 
 There of this weary life to make an end, 
 There bring a blessing where I found a home — 
 But to who sent, who drave me forth, a curse. 
 
OEDIPUS A Τ COL ONUS. η ι 
 
 Yea, and hereof he promised sign should be, 
 
 Earthquake, or thunder-sound, or fire of Zeus. 
 
 Now then I know, this way that I have come, 
 
 It must be that an omen clear from you 
 
 Unto this grove hath led me. For not else 
 
 Into your presence first my feet had chanced — 
 
 Encountering, I who taste no wine, with you 
 
 To whom no cup is poured — nor found for seat 100 
 
 This solemn boulder-block, by axe unwrought. 
 
 Be it, Ο goddesses, as Apollo spake — 
 
 Grant that ev'n now my life may pass, have end — 
 
 Unless ye deem lifelong too short a while, 
 
 More than all men to have been thrall to grief. 
 
 Come ye, sweet daughters of primeval Night, 
 
 Come, city of all cities most renowned, 
 
 Athens, by mightiest Pallas claimed her own, 
 
 Pity this, once a man, once Oedipus, 
 
 Poor phantom now — wreck of mine ancient self! no 
 
 Ant No more, for to espy thy resting-place 
 Come hither certain elders, bowed with age. 
 
 Oed. Nay, I am mute ; and thou, lead from the way, 
 Hide me within the grove here, till I learn 
 Out of their speech their purpose. Learning that, 
 We shall proceed with caution to our end. 
 
 Chor. Look, then. What was he ? Where lurks he 
 
 now ? \Strophe. 
 
 This bold, this Unabashed intruder — [They search for him. 
 
72 OEDIPUS AT COLONUS. 
 
 Flown hence and gone, ye see ; gone whither ? 120 
 
 Make quest for him, look for him, 
 
 On all sides search and seek ! 
 
 Some wandering fellow, doubt it not, 
 
 Strange to the place : not else had he dared 
 
 Invade this unfrequented grove, 
 
 Where the resistless Maidens dwell, 
 
 Whose names we dare not utter, 
 
 Whose presence pass with eyes averted, 130 
 
 Speechlessly, wordlessly, breathing only 
 
 The voiceless breath of a reverent thought — 
 
 So we : but now, we hear, hath come 
 
 Some impious one who knows no fear : 
 
 For whom I look, the precinct through, 
 
 But look in vain, discovering not 
 
 Where all the while he hides. 
 
 Oed. I, whom ye seek, am here : for you 
 I see with ears, as the proverb is. [He discovers himself. 
 
 Chor. Alas ! 140 
 
 Out, horrid sight and horrid sound ! 
 
 Oed. Lawless, I charge ye, deem me not ! 
 
 Chor. Zeus shield us, what can the old man be ? 
 
 Oed. You shall not, guardians of this state, 
 Admiring, rank my fortunes high. 
 Ye see me what I am, whose steps 
 Are guided by another's sight, 
 Whose strength on weakness leans for help. : 
 
OEDIPUS A Τ COL ONUS. η 3 
 
 Chor. Ah me, for pity ! What ! blind beside ? 150 
 
 \Antistrophe. 
 Quite gone, thy sight ? Tis easy guessing, 
 Thy length of days is length of sorrow. 
 These curses, with leave of mine, 
 Thou shalt not add thereto. 
 Trespass enough ; be warned, nor plunge 
 Deep in yon silent heart of the glade, 
 Whose grass-lipped basin's woodland pool 
 Fills with the confluence downward-drawn 
 Of streamlets softly flowing — ■ 160 
 
 Their peace, all-hapless one, disturb not, 
 Dare not to enter, come forth, come hither ! . . . 
 Too wide a distance divides our speech. 
 Ο toil-worn wanderer, hear'st thou me ? 
 But, hast thou any word to speak 
 And seek advice, from hallowed ground 
 Hither remove, where all may tread — 
 Here speak ; or else refrain. 
 
 Oed. Daughter, I know not what to think. 170 
 
 Ant Father, this people's will is ours : 
 To yield with no ill grace were best. 
 
 Oed. Lend, then, thy hand. 
 
 Ant. In thine 'tis placed. 
 
 Oed. Ye for my safety, friends, are bound : 
 I come, relying on your faith. 
 
 Chor. Rest yonder ; none of us, old man, 
 

 74 OEDIPUS AT COLONUS. 
 
 Will drag thee thence against thy will. 
 
 Oed. What, further? [Strophe. 
 
 Chor. A little further still. \He comes out. 
 
 Oed. And still ? 
 
 Chor. Conduct him, maiden : 180 
 
 Still onward lead him ; thou canst see. 
 
 Ant. Follow me, father, follow hither, 
 With poor blind feet, the way I lead. 
 
 Chor. An alien in an alien land, 
 Thou'rt bold amiss ; be bold to yield — 
 Hate where this people cherish hate, 
 And honour what they love. 
 
 Oed. Conduct me, child, 
 Where, safe in paths of piety, 
 
 Unchidden we may hear and speak : 190 
 
 To struggle with our fate were vain. 
 
 Chor. There stay thy steps, nor stray beyond 
 Yon platform of confronting rock. 
 
 Oed. Thus far ? \Antistrophe. 
 
 Chor. I have said, no further go. 
 
 Oed. But sit ? 
 
 Chor. Ay, on the stone's edge 
 
 Sit, sideways bending, stooping low. 
 
 Ant. My office, father : slowly, gently — 
 But first thy foot adjust to mine. 
 
 Oed. Ah, woe is me ! 
 
OEDIPUS A Τ COL ONUS. 7 5 
 
 Ant. Then forward on my loving arm 200 
 
 Lean thou thy weight of years. 
 
 Oed. Ο frenzied, fatal work ! 
 
 Chor. Now that thy boldness somewhat yields, 
 Declare to us thy parentage : 
 Who art thou, miserably led ? 
 What country is thy home ? 
 
 Oed. Ο strangers, city have I none : 
 But spare, Ο spare me this. 
 
 Chor. What have we done, that we should spare ? 
 
 Oed. Forbear, forbear, to ask my name ; 210 
 
 Let me alone and ask no more. 
 
 Chor. What now ? 
 
 Oed. My birth, ah horror ! 
 
 Chor. Reveal it. 
 
 Oed. How shall I answer them, Ο my daughter ? 
 
 Chor. Tell us, Ο stranger, what sire begat thee ? 
 
 Oed. Ah, child, tell me, what must I do ? 
 
 Ant. Speak ; for escape is none, or evasion. 
 
 Oed. Yes, I will speak what I may not hide. 
 
 Chor. Long ye delay : come, tell us quickly. 
 
 Oed. Have ye heard of a son of Lai'us . . . 
 
 Chor. Ah ! 220 
 
 Oed. Heir of the house of Labdacus . . . 
 
 Chor. Shield us ! 
 
 Oed. Miserable Oedipus ? 
 
 Chor. Thou art he ? 
 
76 OEDIPUS AT COLO Ν US. 
 
 Oed. Fear not to hear me tell my tale. 
 
 [They drown his voice with clamour. 
 
 Oed. Unlucky that I am ! 
 
 [The tumult continues. 
 
 Oed. Daughter, what think you they intend ? 
 
 Chor. Out of the land — avoid ! begone ! 
 
 Oed. Your promise how will ye redeem ? 
 
 Chor. Heaven is just, nor exacts from the wronged 
 one 
 Requital for wrongs he requiteth : and guile, 230 
 
 When for guile it is rendered again, like for like, 
 To the giver gives back, for his own, not a boon, 
 But a bane. From thy resting-place rise and begone, 
 And my land and its shelter forego, at thy speediest, 
 Lest of thy guilt on us 
 Heavier yet be imposed the burthen. 
 
 Ant. Ο strangers, yet be merciful : 
 And though ye suffer not 
 My old blind father, hearing fame 
 
 Of how unwittingly he sinned — 240 
 
 Yet upon me, the unfortunate, strangers, have pity — 
 
 regard me, I pray — 
 Who for my father alone your compassion 
 Entreat — yes, entreat — not with eyes that are blind 
 In your eyes gazing full — standing here to be seen, 
 As your daughters might plead with you — all, that this 
 man 
 
OEDIPUS AT COLO Ν US. 77 
 
 May get pity. Nay, for as gods we wretched 
 
 Lean on you, helpless beside. But oh, grant us the 
 
 boon, ye who now bid despair; 
 Yea, by your children, your own, whom ye love — 250 
 All that moves, that constrains you — the gods whom ye 
 
 fear — 
 For in vain shall ye look for such strength in mortality, 
 Strong, if a god shall lead — 
 Strong to be free, and escape his leading. 
 
 Chor. Daughter of Oedipus, of this be sure — 
 We pity your misfortunes, thine and his : 
 But, reverencing the gods, we may not speak 
 Another word than that which we have spoken. 
 
 Oed. Of praise then, and of honourable report 
 What profit, squandered on the barren air ? 
 Have I not heard, your Athens fears the gods 260 
 
 Indeed — and strangers, outcast and distressed, 
 That she alone can save, alone protect ? 
 But now to me what succour ? raised by you, 
 A suppliant^ from these rocks, by you cast forth, 
 Because my name affrights you ; since myself 
 Ye do not fear — no, nor my deeds — deeds truly 
 To suffering than to doing more akin, 
 Might I recount my parents' part in them — 
 Theirs, for whose sake ye shun me. This I know 
 Full surely. Nay, but where's the guilt i' the grain 270 
 Of me, who struck the striker ? when, had I known 
 
7% OEDIPUS AT COLONUS. 
 
 What deed I did, not even this were guilt — 
 
 But I not knowing rushed blindfold on my doom. 
 
 Not so did they ; aware, they sought my life. 
 
 Now therefore by the gods I charge you, friends, 
 
 Even as ye lifted me, so succour me ; 
 
 And, having withal such reverence of the gods, 
 
 Set not your gods at nought ; but rather think 
 
 Their eyes behold on earth the righteous man, 
 
 And of the impious make account, nor ever 280 
 
 Was mortal yet unholy, and escaped. 
 
 With whom at one, stoop to no impious deed, 
 
 Nor hide the light of Athens, their beloved. 
 
 Your faith is plighted to the suppliant here : 
 
 Defend me and deliver — scorn me not, 
 
 Because uncomely ye behold my form. 
 
 A holy man, reverent, I come ; and bring 
 
 Advantage to this people. When he comes 
 
 Whose will is law, lord of the land, your king, 
 
 Ye shall hear all and understand ; but now, 290 
 
 Until he come, forbear, and keep your faith. 
 
 Chor. Much need, old man, have we to pause and 
 fear, 
 Such thoughts hast thou suggested, shaped in words 
 Of no light import. Therefore be it so ; 
 The rulers of the land — they shall decide. 
 
 Oed. But where, Ο strangers, is your lord the king ? 
 
 Chor. From the city of his fathers, where he dwells, 
 
OEDIPUS AT COLO Ν US. 79 
 
 One who sent me, is gone to seek and send him. 
 
 Oed. Think ye that for a blind man he will care, 
 And so regard me, hither himself to come ? 300 
 
 Chor. Doubt not of that, when he shall hear thy name. 
 
 Oed. But who will go and bear him this report ? 
 
 Chor. 'Tis far to go : but rumour in the air 
 Flies thick, the talk of travellers ; hearing which 
 Fear not but he will come. Much noised, thy name, 
 Old man, all ears hath entered : roused by that 
 From sloth, from slumber, quickly will he haste. 
 
 Oed. So coming, may he bless the state he rules, 
 And me. Kind to themselves are all good men. 309 
 
 Ant. Zeus, what is this ? What shall I say or think ? 
 
 Oed. What see you, child, Antigone ? 
 
 Ant. I see 
 
 Come riding on a swift Aetnaean colt 
 Toward us a maiden, but her face is hid 
 By a Thessalian hat that shades the sun. 
 What shall I say ? 
 
 Is it, or is it not ? Am I deceived ? 
 It is, and is not, and I know not which. 
 Alas, I cannot tell. 
 
 Yes, it is she. See with what joyful eyes 
 She greets me, coming. Now no doubt, it is 320 
 
 Ismene's self, no other, plain to see. 
 
 Oed. How say you, daughter ? 
 
 Ant. That I see thy child, 
 
So OEDIPUS AT C0L0NUS. 
 
 My sister : soon her voice shall make her known. 
 
 Ism. Ο father and Ο sister, names to me 
 Linked in a double dearness — hardly found, 
 How hardly now I see you for my grief! 
 
 Oed. Child, art thou come ? 
 
 Ism. Father, thy woful plight ! 
 
 Oed. My child, come back ? 
 
 Ism. Come, many a weary mile. 
 
 Oed. Daughter, give me thy hand. 
 
 Ism. A hand to each. 
 
 Oed. Ο children — sisters ! 
 
 Ism. Ο unhappy life ! 330 
 
 Oed. Mine, and this maid's ? 
 
 Ism. Ill-fated, mine no less. 
 
 Oed. What brings thee, child ? 
 
 Ism. Father, my care of thee. 
 
 Oed. To see me ? 
 
 Ism. Tidings, too, myself to bear — 
 
 With the one faithful servant that I have. 
 
 Oed. Young are thy brothers : where at need were 
 they? 
 
 Ism. They work their work. A sorry tale to tell ! 
 
 Oed. Ο altogether, in the hearts of them, 
 Conformed to ways of Egypt, and in life ! 
 For there all day the men within the house 
 Sit at the loom, and let their womankind 340 
 
 Outside slave ever for the daily bread. 
 
OEDIPUS A Τ COL ONUS. 8 1 
 
 So, daughters, ye — while they to whom belonged 
 
 These toils, girl-like, shut doors and keep the house — 
 
 Ye in their stead with toil are ministrant 
 
 To my affliction. One, from when she grew 
 
 Past childhood's nursing to a woman's strength, 
 
 Hath ever shared my wandering grievous life, 
 
 Prop of my aged steps, full oft astray 
 
 Barefoot and fasting in wild woodland ways, 
 
 And oft with rain, and oft with fierce noon-heat, 35° 
 
 Poor soul, distressed, yet for the life at home 
 
 Repines not, might but I have bread to eat. 
 
 And thou, my daughter, barest to me before, 
 
 Asking no Theban leave, all that the god 
 
 Foretold concerning me ; — and staunch and true 
 
 Wast thou in the peril, when they banished me : — 
 
 And now again what tidings hast thou brought, 
 
 Ismene ? What occasion sped thee hither ? 
 
 Since not for nought thou comest, that I know 
 
 Full well, but bringing some new fear to me. 360 
 
 Ism. Father, my toil and trouble by the way, 
 Seeking thy place of sojourn and abode, 
 Let pass unsaid. Why should I twice be grieved, 
 Recounting now all that I suffered then ? 
 What storm about thy two unhappy sons 
 Now gathers — I am come to tell thee this. 
 For at the first rivals they were, to cede 
 The throne to Creon, nor pollute the state, 
 
82 OEDIPUS AT COLONUS. 
 
 Fearing the memories of the ancient curse, 
 
 About thy miserable house that clung : 370 
 
 But then some god and their infatuate hearts 
 
 Pricked them, to seize, Ο fools thrice miserable, 
 
 Rivals in guilt, the kingdom and the crown. 
 
 And now thy younger son, the headstrong boy, 
 
 The elder, Polyneices, of his throne 
 
 Hath dispossessed and banished from the land. 
 
 And rumour now is rife that he is gone, 
 
 Exiled, to Argos in the vale, and finds 
 
 Alliance there in marriage, gathers head, 
 
 And boasts that Argos in the fall of Thebes 380 
 
 Shall triumph straight, or lift her to the skies. 
 
 No tale of idle words, father, is this, 
 
 But dreadful fact ; nor can I see the end, 
 
 When heaven will have compassion on thy griefs. 
 
 Oed. Wast thou so fond indeed, to hope the gods 
 Would yet take thought for my deliverance ? 
 
 Ism. Such hope the latest oracle inspired. 
 
 Oed. Yea, in what sort ? What hath the god fore- 
 told ? 
 
 Ism. That unto thee one day the folk of Thebes, 
 Living or dead, shall look, to work their weal. 390 
 
 Oed. Who could get good from such an one as I ? 
 
 Ism. 'Tis said that on thy help depends their strength. 
 
 Oed. Am I a man, now, when my years are spent ? 
 
 Ism. The gods, who erst would slay, uplift thee now. 
 
OEDIPUS AT COLO Ν US. S3 
 
 Oed. Tis ill uplifting old, who young fell down. 
 
 Ism. Moreover, know that Creon for this cause 
 Will seek thee — soon, and at no distant day. 
 
 Oed. With purpose what to do ? Explain thy speech. 
 
 Ism. To make thee dwell not far from Thebes, within 
 Their power, without the confines of the land. 400 
 
 Oed. Laid at their gates, how can I profit them ? 
 
 Ism. They rue thy burial, if it chance amiss. 
 
 Oed. Why, that were clear without an oracle. 
 
 Ism. Therefore they fain would set thee hard at hand, 
 Not leave thee where thou'rt master of thyself. 
 
 Oed. What, will they cover me with Theban dust ? 
 
 Ism. Thou hast shed kindred blood : they may not 
 so. 
 
 Oed. Masters of me, then, they shall never be. 
 
 Ism. Hereof shall grow matter for Thebes to rue. 
 
 Oed. In what far-off conjuncture of events ? 410 
 
 Ism. Of thy displeasure, when at thy tomb they stand. 
 
 Oed. AVhence hast thou, daughter, this intelligence ? 
 
 Ism. So said the envoys from the Delphic hearth. 
 
 Oed. Of me this also hath the god foretold ? 
 
 Is7H. If they speak true, who came from him to 
 Thebes. 
 
 Oed. Hath either of my sons heard this report ? 
 
 Ism. Yea, both alike, and know that this is so. 
 
 Oed. Yet, knowing this, did they, unnatural both, 
 Set sovereignty before their love of me ? 
 
8 4 OEDIPUS AT COLON US. 
 
 Ism. Such news, most grievous to mine ears, I bring. 420 
 Oed. But may the gods of this predestined strife 
 Quench not the heat, and would that it were mine 
 To rule the issue of the fatal fray, 
 Whereto they now set hand and lift the spear : 
 For neither should who now is lord and king 
 Continue, neither he who hath gone forth 
 Return again — false sons, who, when their sire 
 From hearth and home thus shamefully was thrust, 
 Forbade not, nor avenged it, but unhoused 
 They let me go, my exile heard proclaimed. 430 
 
 Say you, it was my wish — 'twas fitly done — 
 The state then granted me the boon I asked ? 
 I tell you, no : that first, that dreadful day, 
 My heart so hot within me, when most sweet 
 Had been to die and to be stoned with stones, 
 No friend was found to give me my desire. 
 But then, when time had mellowed all that grief, 
 And my remorse had erred, I knew, in wild 
 Self-judgment for the sins that I had sinned — 
 Why, then it pleased the state to banish me, 440 
 
 Too late, unwilling ; and the twain my sons, 
 Sons with the power, lacked yet the will, to help 
 Their father — whom a little word had saved ; 
 Homeless I wandered forth to beg my bread. 
 And whilst to these, according to their strength, 
 Weak maidens both, I owe my wants supplied, 
 
OEDIPUS AT COLO Ν US. S5 
 
 This land's safe shelter, and their filial care, 
 
 Those sacrificed their father for a throne, 
 
 To wield the sceptre and usurp the realm. 
 
 Friend and ally they shall not find in me, 450 
 
 Nor shall it profit them to have reigned in Thebes, 
 
 Full well I know, hearing the prophecies 
 
 This maiden brings, and pondering with myself 
 
 The things that Phoebus promised long ago. 
 
 Now therefore let them send to seek for me 
 
 Creon, and who beside in Thebes is great : 
 
 For if it be your pleasure, Ο my friends, 
 
 With these majestic Guardians of the place, 
 
 To save me — for your city ye shall win 
 
 A strong deliverer, and confound my foes. 460 
 
 Chor. Worthy compassion, Oedipus, ye are, 
 Thou and thy daughters ; but, to this regard 
 Since our deliverance to be wrought by thee 
 Is added, best advice I have be thine. 
 
 Oed. All that thy friendship counsels, I will do. 
 
 Chor. Make then atonement to the Powers, who first 
 Received thee, and whose grove thy foot profaned. 
 
 Oed. How shall I make atonement? Teach me, 
 friends. 
 
 Chor. Draw first and bring, handling with holy hands, 
 Sacred libations from the fountain's source. 470 
 
 Oed. The draught unmixed when I have brought, 
 what then ? 
 
86 OEDIPUS AT COLONUS. 
 
 Chor. Then there are bowls, fair-wrought of skilful 
 hands, 
 Whose edge and twin symmetric handles crown. . . . 
 
 Oed. With crowns of leafage, or of wool, or what ? 
 
 Chor. Wool of an eanling lamb and newly dipt 
 
 Oed. Good ; and thereafter how conclude the rite ? 
 
 Chor. Pour forth libations, fronting to the dawn. 
 
 Oed. From the urns ye spake of, shall I pour them 
 forth ? 
 
 Chor. A threefold stream : filled to the brim, the last. 
 
 Oed. Wherewith shall it be filled ? this teach me too. 480 
 
 Chor. Water and honey ; but of wine no drop. 
 
 Oed. And when the sunless earth hath drunk of this ? 
 
 Chor. Set in it sprays of olive, three times nine, 
 From both thy hands, and pray these prayers the while. 
 
 Oed. Ay, let me hear the prayers : this most imports. 
 
 Chor. That, as we call them gracious, so they will 
 Their suppliant graciously receive and save — 
 Thyself, or else some other in thy stead, 
 Pray, under breath, not lifting up thy voice ; 
 Then go, nor look behind thee. Do thou this, 490 
 
 And boldly I will dare to stand thy friend ; 
 But, this undone, I am afraid for thee. 
 
 Oed. Children, have ye heard these denizens of the 
 place ? 
 
 Ant. We heard, and wait thy bidding what to do. 
 
 Oed. I cannot go, for lack of strength indeed 
 
OEDIPUS AT COLO Ν US. S7 
 
 And lack of sight — two evils, old and blind : 
 
 Go, one of you, and do as they require. 
 
 This rite, methinks, ten thousand should not pay 
 
 Better than one — one kindly heart and true. 
 
 But do the thing with speed, and leave me not 500 
 
 Untended: all too weak my strength would be 
 
 To walk alone, without some hand to lead. 
 
 Ism. I will perform the rite ; but, ere I go, 
 Where I must seek the spot, I fain would learn. 
 
 Chor. Beyond this grove, Ο maiden. There, if 
 aught 
 Thou needest more, dwells one, who will explain. 
 
 Ism. So to my task : meanwhile, Antigone, 
 Guard thou our father, here. For parents done, 
 Of toilsome service we forget the toil. 
 
 Chor. The ancient grief from its lair, Ο stranger, 
 I fear to arouse, [Strophe. 5™ 
 
 But yet I fain would hear. . . . 
 
 Oed. What wouldst thou hear ? 
 
 Chor. Of thine encounter, how it fell, 
 With sorrow, pitiful, past redress. 
 
 Oed. Nay, kind and hospitable men, 
 Strip not of silence this my shame. 
 
 Chor. Nay, for rumour is rife and ceases not, 
 I would hear from thy lips the tale aright. 
 
 Oed. Ah, woe is me ! 
 
 Chor. Ah, yet be content, I pray thee. 
 
88 OEDIPUS AT COLO Ν US. 
 
 Oed. Alas, alas ! 
 
 Chor. Grant my desire, as I grant thee thine. 520 
 
 Oed. Suffering was mine to endure, Ο strangers, God 
 knoweth, was mine, [Antistrophe. 
 
 Doing I knew not what. 
 
 Chor. But tell us how ? 
 
 Oed. Bound by the state, all unaware, 
 With cursed nuptials, a fatal bride. 
 
 Chor. And was the couch, men call (O name 
 Of shame) thy mother's, filled by thee ? 
 
 Oed. Every word, Ο my friends, is sharp like death 
 In mine ears : but in truth these are my own. ... 530 
 
 Chor. AVhat wilt thou say? 
 
 Oed. Two daughters, two curses rather. . . . 
 
 Chor. What do I hear? 
 
 Oed. Sprung from the womb that conceived their sire. 
 
 [Strophe 2. 
 
 Chor. What, these thy children were indeed . . . ? 
 
 Oed. Yea, were own sisters of their sire. 
 
 Chor. Alas! 
 
 Oed. Alas indeed — 
 
 Dire visitation of unmeasured ills ! 
 
 Chor. Thou hast suffered. . . . 
 
 Oed. What I have suffered, how shall I forget ? 
 
 Chor. Thou hast wrought. . . . 
 
 Oed. Nay, nothing wrought. 
 
 Chor. What then ? 
 
OEDIPUS AT COLON US. 89 
 
 Oed. Say rather, I received from Thebes 
 A gift — Ο never to receive 
 
 Such prize as this, to break my heart, 540 
 
 I helped her at her need ! \Antistrophe 2. 
 
 Chor. Yet tell me — hapless, didst thou slay. . . . 
 
 Oed. What now ? what is it thou wouldst learn ? 
 
 Chor. Thy sire ? 
 
 Oed. Ah, there again — 
 
 A second thrust ! distress upon distress. 
 
 Chor. Thy father ! 
 
 Oed. I slew my father ; yet was not the deed . . . 
 
 Chor. Ο speak ! 
 
 Oed. Without excuse. 
 
 Chor. How then ? 
 
 Oed. Nay, ye shall hear : for caught, surprised, 
 I struck, I dealt that fatal blow : 
 The law acquits me of the guilt — 
 I struck I knew not whom. 
 
 Chor. Lo where the son of Aegeus, at thy call, 
 Obedient to the summons, hither comes. 550 
 
 Thes. Hearing from many in the former time 
 That violence done upon thy bleeding eyes, 
 I know thee, son of Laius : and my knowledge 
 Signs I have gathered by the way confirm. 
 For both thy garb and that disfeatured face 
 Proclaim thee who thou art : and pitying thee, 
 Unhappy Oedipus, I fain would ask 
 
90 OEDIPUS AT C0L0NUS. 
 
 With what petition to the state and me 
 
 Thou comest — thou and this thy sad companion. 
 
 Answer me : thou hadst need to tell a case 560 
 
 Dreadful indeed, whence I should stand aloof, 
 
 Knowing that I an alien passed my youth, 
 
 As thou ; and, no man more, in alien lands 
 
 Endured the frequent peril of my life : 
 
 Now therefore from a stranger, as thou art, 
 
 I cannot turn aside, refusing help. 
 
 I also am a man ; and may not count, 
 
 No more than thou, to-morrow for my own. 
 
 Oed. Theseus, thy courtesy asks brief response, 
 Of tedious speech dispensing me the need. 570 
 
 For, who I am, already thou hast said, 
 Son of what sire, citizen of what land, 
 Nor more remains save only that, wherein 
 I need thy help, I say, and make an end. 
 
 Thes. This and no more it is, I wait to hear. 
 
 Oed. I come to offer thee this wretched body, — 
 No goodly gift indeed to outward view, 
 But more than beauty is the gain it brings. 
 
 Thes. What manner of gain imports this vaunted gift ? 
 
 Oed. Hereafter shalt thou know, but hardly now. 580 
 
 Thes. But when shall be disclosed the benefit ? 
 
 Oed. When I am dead, and thou hast buried me. 
 
 Thes. Life's latest boon thou cravest : all between 
 Thou either hast forgotten or despised. 
 
OEDIPUS AT COLON US. 91 
 
 Oed. All other boons to me are summed in this. 
 
 Thes. In little room the favour is contained. 
 
 Oed. Look to it well ; not small shall be the peril. 
 
 Thes. By reason of thy children, or from whom ? 
 
 Oed. They would compel me — to convey me thither. 
 
 Thes. Consent then, or thine exile is thy fault. 59° 
 
 Oed. When I myself consented, they forbade. 
 
 Thes. Ο foolish, in misfortune to be proud. 
 
 Oed. Hear first and then admonish : now, forbear. 
 
 Thes. Say on : for I will judge before I speak. 
 
 Oed. Wrong heaped on wrong, Theseus, I have 
 endured. 
 
 Thes. Of the old affliction of thy birth thou'lt speak ? 
 
 Oed. Nay, for of that all Hellas tells the tale. 
 
 Thes. AVhat, passing human sufferance, hast thou suf- 
 fered ? 
 
 Oed. Thus stands my case — by my own flesh and 
 blood 
 Exiled for ever from my native land, 600 
 
 A parricide, never to be restored. 
 
 Thes. How should they claim thee then, to live apart? 
 
 Oed. The warning of the god enforces them. 
 
 Thes. AVhat peril hath the oracle foreshown ? 
 
 Oed. Defeat they needs must suffer, in this land. 
 
 Thes. Whence should grow enmity 'twixt me and 
 them ? 
 
 Oed. Ο son of Aegeus, friend, to gods alone 
 
92 OEDIPUS AT COLON US. 
 
 Comes neither age nor death to make an end : 
 All-conquering time confounds all else that is. 
 Strength of the earth decays, and strength of man, 610 
 And faith grows faint and dies, and doubt is born ; 
 And the same spirit never of friend and friend, 
 Or state with state, abides unchangingly. 
 For, soon or late, comes there a time to all, 
 When sweet grows bitter, and again is dear ; 
 And, though to-day fair weather bodes no storm 
 'Twixt Thebes and thee, yet countless nights and days 
 Time in his countless course engendereth, 
 "Wherein they shall, upon some trivial cause, 
 Fling to the winds of war this plighted peace, 620 
 
 Even there, above my grave, where laid on sleep 
 My clay, death-cold, shall drink their warm life-blood — 
 If Zeus be Zeus, and Phoebus still his prophet. 
 But, for I shrink fate's secrets to disclose, 
 Here let me end where I began ; keep thou 
 Thy faith, thou shalt not say that in this place 
 To Oedipus thou gavest room to dwell 
 — For nought, unless the gods will play me false. 
 
 Chor. Ο king, these words before and like to these 
 We heard him promise that this land should prove. 630 
 
 Thes. How shall I then reject the proffered love 
 Of such an one, to whom, ally and friend, 
 A place beside our hearth belongs by right; 
 And now he comes, a suppliant to the gods, 
 
OEDIPUS AT COLON US. 93 
 
 Nor pays light tribute to this land and me. 
 
 Such claims command my reverence, nor to slight 
 
 His friendship, but receive him for our guest. 
 
 And if his pleasure be to sojourn here, 
 
 On thee I charge his safety ; if to go 
 
 With me — choose, Oedipus, of this and that, 6 4 o 
 
 According to thy will : thy will is mine. 
 
 Oed. All men of liberal soul may Zeus reward ! 
 
 T/ies. What is thy pleasure ? Wilt thou go with me ? 
 
 Oed. So, if I might, I would. But in this place — 
 
 T/ies. What in this place shall be ? I thwart thee not. 
 
 Oed. Here they who cast me forth shall feel my might. 
 
 T/ies. So should thy presence prove great boon to us. 
 
 Oed. Only hold fast thy word, to make it good. 
 
 Thes. Fear not for me : thou shalt not be betrayed. 
 
 Oed. I will not bind thine honour with an oath. 650 
 
 Thes. It should not serve thee better than my word. 
 
 Oed. What wilt thou do ? 
 
 Thes. What fear disquiets thee ? 
 
 Oed. Men will come hither. . . . 
 
 Thes. Trust our friends for that. 
 
 Oed. Beware lest leaving me. . . . 
 
 Thes. I know my part. 
 
 Oed. ' My fears are urgent. . . . 
 
 Thes. Fear my heart knows none. 
 
 Oed. Thou know'st not how they threaten. 
 
 Thes. But I know 
 
94 OEDIPUS AT COLO Ν US. 
 
 No man shall drag thee hence in my despite. 
 Oh many threats full many a braggart word 
 Have hotly threatened — but the passion cools, 
 And reason reigns, the bubble threats are gone ! 660 
 And they, however bold to speak great words, 
 Shall find, I know, or ere they steal thee hence, 
 Wide seas and boisterous are first to cross. 
 Enough — if Phoebus sent thee, though my will 
 Were not to help, small need thou hast to fear ; 
 But now I know, ev'n though I be not nigh, 
 My name shall guard thee, safe from all misuse. 
 Chor. To the land of the steed, Ο stranger, 
 
 [Strophe 1. 
 To the goodliest homes upon earth thou comest — 
 White-cliffed Colonus, this, 670 
 
 Loud with the melody piercing sweet 
 Of nightingales that most delight 
 Its deep green glades to haunt — 
 Lovers old of the ivy sheen 
 And the myriad-berried thick-leaved bower 
 Of the grove of the god, no foot profanes, 
 Sunproof, nor vexed by wind, 
 Whatever storms may blow ; 
 Where Dionysus, wandering still, enrapt, 
 Waits on the heavenly maids, his nurses once. 680 
 
 And the clustering fair narcissus [Atitistrophe 1. 
 
 Eve by eve out of heaven the fresh dew drinketh — 
 
OEDIPUS AT COLON US. 95 
 
 Meet for the mighty brows, 
 
 Erst at Eleusis its florets graced — 
 
 And bright the crocus springs like gold : 
 
 Nor fail the sleepless founts, 
 
 Whence, Cephisus, thy streams are fed ; 
 
 But they flow, and the quick-conceiving plains 
 
 Of the bountiful-bosomed earth are glad, 
 
 Undwindling, day by day, 690 
 
 Of thine untainted shower : 
 
 Nor hath such haunt displeased the Muses' choir, 
 
 Nor Aphrodite of the golden rein. 
 
 A marvel now, \Strophe 2. 
 
 Of Asian soil I have not heard, 
 
 Nor that its like in the great Dorian home, 
 
 Island of Pelops, ever sprang — 
 
 A tree grows here, self-sown, inviolate — 
 
 A tree, the terror of all hostile spears, 
 
 And o'er the land its boughs are spread — 700 
 
 That grey-leaved olive's parent-shade, 
 
 Which never chieftain, young or old, 
 
 Although he smite, shall bring to nought : 
 
 So guards it Morian Zeus with sleepless watch, 
 
 And the grey-eyed Athene loves it well. 
 
 Another praise \A?itistrophe 2. 
 
 Of this our mother and our home, 
 
 Boon of the mighty god, her proudest boast, 
 
 Best praise of all, I have to sing — 710 
 
96 OEDIPUS AT COLONUS. 
 
 Land of fair steeds, fair foals, and fairest sea. 
 
 For, son of Cronos, lord Poseidon, thou 
 
 Didst at such height of boasting set 
 
 Our streets for which was shaped by thee 
 
 The bit that heals the horse's rage : 
 
 And the oar-blade wings its wondrous way, 
 
 Sped by stout arms, and bounding o'er the wave — 
 
 The Nereids' hundred feet no faster flee. 
 
 Ant. Ο land whose praises in our ears are loud, 720 
 These glowing words the time hath come to prove. 
 
 Oed. Daughter, what peril ? 
 
 Ant. Peril near at hand : 
 
 Creon, not unattended, hither comes. 
 
 Oed. Ο good old men, if now ye fail me not, 
 The goal of my deliverance is in sight. 
 
 Clio?-. Doubt not thy safety. What though I be old ? 
 The strength at least of Athens time hath spared. 
 
 Cre. Good friends and noble citizens of this land, 
 I see within the eyes of all of you 
 
 Some fear of my intrusion, fresh portrayed ; 730 
 
 But shun me not, nor blame with hasty speech : 
 For hither, charged with words, not deeds, I come, 
 I who am old, and know that ye are strong, 
 Ye and your city — in Hellas stronger none. 
 But I, thus old and weak, was sent to bring 
 This man by mild persuasion back to Thebes — 
 Not sent by one man's sending, but by all, 
 
OEDIPUS AT COLONUS. 97 
 
 All with one voice insistent, since to me 
 To mourn a kinsman's sufferings most belonged. 
 Then, Oedipus, unhappy one, consent, 740 
 
 With me return. All Thebes cries out for thee — 
 Just claimants all — but none so just as I, 
 My right, unless I be of men most base, 
 The right of deepest pity for thy wrongs, 
 Beholding thus thy piteous alien plight, 
 Alien and homeless, and thy scanty fare, 
 And this one woman's arm that props thee, who — 
 Alas, I had not thought she could have fallen 
 Unto this depth of misery that I see, 
 The hapless one, thee and thy poor blind eyes 75° 
 
 In beggared state still tending — maiden yet, 
 Who should be wife, the first rough hand may snatch. 
 Ah me, and must I cast, on thee and me 
 And all our race, intolerable shame ? 
 Nay, for one may not hide w T hat seeks the light, 
 Hide thou the shame, Ο by our fathers' gods- 
 Yea, hear me, Oedipus — consent — return 
 To thine own city and thy father's home, 
 With loving speech to Athens, as is fit, 
 But Thebes, thine ancient nurse, claims reverent deeds. 760 
 Oed. All shameless, and all reckless whence thou 
 weavest 
 The fine fair mask of honourable words, 
 What vain attempt is this, a second time 
 
 G 
 
98 OEDIPUS AT COLON US. 
 
 To trap me — in the snare, would gall me most ? 
 
 For at the first, when, with my proper griefs 
 
 O'erburthened, all my prayer was ' Banish me,' 
 
 Thy will was not as mine to grant me this ; 
 
 But, when I had my fill of fierce remorse, 
 
 And now my comfort was to live at home, 
 
 That was thy time to thrust me from the doors — 770 
 
 This bond of kinship was forgotten then : 
 
 And now, no sooner hast thou seen this state 
 
 And people entertain me for a friend, 
 
 Thou'dst pluck me hence with cruel courtesies. 
 
 Such love enforced, I count it no more kind 
 
 Than if to thine entreaty one were deaf — 
 
 ' He could not give,' ' he had no mind to help ' — 
 
 But, when thy soul was sated of thy wish, 
 
 Lo, he should proffer then the graceless grace : 
 
 Were't not a barren pleasure thou shouldst taste ? 780 
 
 Yet are thy gifts to me no more than thus, 
 
 Fair in the sound, but in the substance nought. 
 
 Nay, these shall hear, how I will prove thee base. 
 
 Thou'lt bear me hence, not to conduct me home, 
 
 But outdoors pension me, that so thy town 
 
 Her reckoning with this land may 'scape unscathed. 
 
 Another way I read your fortunes : there, 
 
 Lodged in your midst, my curse, for evermore ; 
 
 And, for the heritage of those my sons, 
 
 Room in my land enough, wherein to die. 790 
 
OEDIPUS AT COLON US. 99 
 
 Shall Thebes not own my wisdom passing thine ? 
 Yea, wiser far, by truer teachers taught, 
 By Phoebus, and his father, Zeus supreme. 
 But thou com'st here with counterfeit fair speech, 
 With glozing tongue sharp-edged ; but all thy talk 
 Shall win thee more of mischief than of good. 
 Yet, for I know thou'rt warned in vain, begone, 
 And leave me here to dwell ; for not amiss, 
 Howe'er amiss, I dwell, contented so. 
 
 Cre. Who loses in our parley, thinkest thou ? 800 
 
 Foils me thy fence, or hast thou foiled thyself? 
 
 Oed. If neither me, nor these who hear us both, 
 Thou canst persuade, I have what I desire. 
 
 Cre. Poor soul, grown grey, but none the more grown 
 wise, 
 That liv'st to blot with shame the name of age ! 
 
 Oed. Thy tongue bites shrewdly ; but I have not seen 
 The honest man, all themes made eloquent. 
 
 Cre. The many words not always cleave the mark. 
 
 Oed. Thine are so few, and all exact of aim ! 
 
 Cre. Nay, not to one whose wit is such as thine. 810 
 
 Oed. Begone — for I will speak for these — nor here 
 With prowling siege beset my destined home. 
 
 Cre. Judge these 'twixt thee and me : but for the words 
 Thou answerest thy friends with, when thou'rt ta'en — 
 
 Oed. Who takes me, and defies such friends as these ? 
 
 Cre. Nay, short of this, I shall afflict thy soul. 
 
ioo OEDIPUS AT COLONUS. 
 
 Oed. 'Tis threatened well : but where's the deed to 
 match ? 
 
 Cre. Of thy two daughters one's my prisoner, 
 Packed hence already : and this one follows her. 
 
 Oed. Ο heaven ! 
 
 Cre. Louder thou'lt call on heaven soon. 820 
 
 Oed. Thou hast my child ? 
 
 Cre. And this child soon shall have. 
 
 Oed. Ο friends, what will ye ? Now forsake me not, 
 But drive this impious fellow from the land. 
 
 Chor. Sirrah, with haste depart : unrighteous deeds 
 Thou both hast done before, and now wouldst do. 
 
 Cre. Good now, bestir ; if she will go, 'tis well — 
 If not, unwilling hence she must be borne. 
 
 Ant. x\h, wretched, whither shall I flee ? what help 
 Seek, or of gods or men ? 
 
 Chor. What wouldst thou, sirrah ? 
 
 Cre. She is my own : this man I shall not touch. 830 
 
 Oed. Ο for the king to help ! 
 
 Chor. The deed's unjust. 
 
 Cre. 'Tis just. 
 
 Chor. How just ? 
 
 Cre. I carry hence my own. 
 
 Oed. Great city, help ! 
 
 Chor. What wilt thou ? Release her, 
 Or prove thy strength with us. 
 
 Cre. Stand back there. 
 
OEDIPUS AT COLO Ν US. 
 
 CJwr. But first then relinquish thy purpose. 
 
 Cre. 'Tis war with Thebes, if ye lay hands on me. 
 
 Oed. Is it not come to pass as I foretold ? 
 
 Chor. Unhand the maiden — quick ! 
 
 Cre. Command thy slaves. 
 
 Chor. Loose her, I say. 
 
 Cre. I say, she must along. 8 4 o 
 
 Chor. What ho, a rescue ! Neighbours, help ! 
 My city is despoiled, is robbed. 
 Friends, to the rescue haste. 
 
 Ant. Ο friends, I am too weak ; they drag me hence. 
 
 Oed. Where art thou, daughter ? 
 
 A?it. Torn from thee away. 
 
 Oed. Reach hither, child, thy hands. 
 
 Ant. My hands are fast. 
 
 Cre. Away with her ! 
 
 Oed. Ο miserable me ! 
 
 Cre. Good, so this pair of crutches shall not prop 
 Thy steps again : but since thou hast a mind 
 To overbear thy country and thy friends s 5 o 
 
 (Whose bidding, though a prince, I have performed), 
 Why, have thy way. So shalt thou know, too late, 
 That to thyself no friend's part hast thou played, 
 Now, or before, self-willed in friends' despite, 
 Slave still of passion, that hath wrecked thy life. 
 
 Chor. Sirrah, stand there. 
 
 Cre. Lay not thine hands on me. 
 
OEDIPUS AT COLONUS. 
 
 Chor. Give back thy captives, else thou shalt not go. 
 
 Cre. Be warned, or Thebes shall wrest a costlier 
 prize : 
 For not these women only will I seize. 
 
 Chor. Whither wilt thou turn ? 
 
 Cre. I will bear hence this man. 860 
 
 Chor. Bold words are these. 
 
 Cre. No longer words, but deeds — 
 
 Unless your king himself shall hinder me. 
 
 Oed. Ο shameless voice ! wilt thou lay hands on me ? 
 
 Cre. Hold thou thy peace. 
 
 Oed. Ye guardian Powers o' the place, 
 
 Yet one prayer more before the silence falls ! 
 Ο thou most base, who, when my eyes were out, 
 These poor remains of sight hast plucked away — 
 May Helios hear me, who from heaven sees all — 
 Hear and reward thee, thee and all thy race, 
 With such old age as mine, afflicted so. s 7 o 
 
 Cre. People of this land, see ye how I am used ? 
 
 Oed. They see us both, and seeing note that I 
 Thy violent deeds have but repaid with words. 
 
 Cre. My rage I'll curb no more : though I'm alone 
 And slow with age, I'll bear thee hence by force. 
 
 Oed. Ο piteous plight ! 
 
 Chor. Bold art thou, Ο stranger, 
 If this thou think'st to do. 
 Cre. I'll do it. 
 
OEDIPUS AT COLON US. 
 
 Chor. This city I'll hold then no city. 
 
 Cre. In the just cause the small o'erthrows the great. 
 
 Oed. Hear ye what words he speaks ? 
 
 Chor. But make them good 
 
 Zeus knows he shall not. sso 
 
 Cre. Zeus may know, not thou. 
 
 Chor. Insolence ! 
 
 Cre. Insolence that ye must brook. 
 
 Chor. Ο rulers of the land, and all 
 Ye people, haste, Ο haste to help — 
 Ere these the frontier pass. 
 
 Thes. Say what mean ye by this clamour ? what's the 
 matter ? what the fear, 
 Called me from the smoking altars of the sea-god's 
 
 temple there, 
 Whom Colonus hails her patron ? Speak, and let me 
 
 know the truth, 
 What's the cause impelled me hither, faster than my feet 
 desired. 8 9 o 
 
 Oed. Ο friend, for by thy voice I know thee now, 
 This man, this hour, hath done me foul despite. 
 
 Thes. How art thou wronged ? Who hath molested 
 thee? 
 
 Oed. This Creon, whom thou seest, hath torn from me 
 My daughters both, the two that were my all. 
 
 Thes. What sayest thou ? 
 
 Oed. I say what I have suffered. 
 
1 04 OEDIPUS A Τ COL ONUS. 
 
 T/ies. Let some one of my servants haste and go 
 To yonder altars, and compel the folk, 
 Footmen and horsemen all, with loosened rein 
 To leave the sacrifice and post to where, 9°° 
 
 Threading the hills, the two main roads converge, 
 Before the captives pass, and I become 
 Food for this stranger's mirth, despoiled by force. 
 Go, do my bidding quick. But for this man, 
 Came I in wrath to meet him, as I might, 
 He had not gone out of my hand unscathed. 
 But now, the laws that he himself brought hither, 
 These and no other will I mete to him. 
 Out of this land thou shalt not budge, until 
 Brought back these maidens stand before my face. 910 
 For thou hast dealt unworthily of me, 
 And hast disgraced thy people and thy birth, 
 Who, coming to a land where men are just, 
 And law determines every cause, didst spurn 
 With boisterous foot my town's authority, 
 To plunder at thy pleasure and to snatch ; 
 Deeming or void of men or manned with slaves 
 This city, and me its king a thing of nought. 
 Not by thy Theban nurture art thou base : 
 Thebes is no mother of unrighteous sons, 920 
 
 Nor think that she would praise thee, did she know, 
 Me thou hadst spoiled and spoiled the gods, nor held 
 From men distressed, their suppliants, thy hand. 
 
OEDIPUS AT COLO Ν US. 105 
 
 And I, had I set foot within thy state, 
 
 Not though my claim were of all claims most just, 
 
 Had dared, without the king, or who was lord, 
 
 To wrest or plunder, but had better known 
 
 What mien became a stranger in the land. 
 
 But thou hast shamed, that better things deserved, 
 
 Thine own good city — and, in vain grown old, 930 
 
 Fulness of years hath left thee void of sense. 
 
 Now then I say, that which I said before, 
 
 Let some one bring me quick the maidens here, 
 
 Unless within our borders thou wouldst dwell 
 
 By force, not choice, an alien ; thou art warned — 
 
 And, what my tongue affirms, my mind intends. 
 
 Chor. Seest thou thy plight, Ο stranger ? by thy birth 
 Deemed honest, but thy deeds have proved thee base. 
 
 Cre. Not counting void of valour or of wit 
 Thy city, son of Aegeus, as thou sayest, 940 
 
 I did this deed, but deeming not its folk 
 Such passion for my kinswomen would feel, 
 To undertake for them in my despite. 
 And that a parricide, a man unclean 
 They'd not receive, I knew, nor one to whom 
 Of son and mother clave the guilty love. 
 For in their land, I knew, such wisdom sat, 
 Throned on their Ares' hill, that not allows 
 This town to harbour wanderers such as this : 
 Whom trusting, I was bold to snatch this prey. 950 
 
io6 OEDIPUS AT COLO Ν US. 
 
 Yet had I spared to do it, but he poured 
 
 On me and all my race a bitter curse, 
 
 So stung me, that I dared requite him thus. 
 
 For anger knows not other old age, except 
 
 To die: the dead, not any pain can touch. 
 
 Now therefore work thy will ; for, though my cause 
 
 Be just, yet stand I here forlorn of friends, 
 
 Of small account ; but, howsoever small, 
 
 I'll do my part to give thee deeds for deeds. 
 
 Oed. Ο bold and unabashed, where thinkest thou 960 
 Thine insults fall, on my grey hairs or thine ? 
 Who pratest thus of incest and of blood, 
 All the dark tale of horror that I bore, 
 Unwilling : so the gods ordained, belike 
 Upon my race wreaking some ancient grudge — 
 Since, of my own, reproach me if thou canst 
 With any sin, whereof I paid the price 
 In sinning thus against myself and mine. 
 For tell me, if an oracle from heaven 
 Foretold my father's death, slain by his son, 97 o 
 
 How justly then is this reproach to me, 
 Whom neither mother had conceived, nor sire 
 Begotten, shaped not yet within the womb ? 
 And if, so born to sorrow as I was, 
 I met my father — met, and struck and slew, 
 Discerning not the person nor the deed, 
 How shalt thou fairly blame the blindfold blow ? 
 
OEDIPUS AT COLONUS. 107 
 
 But of my mother, sister to thee, rash man, 
 
 Hast thou no shame to force me to avouch, 
 
 As needs I must, that union ? how refrain, 980 
 
 When thine unhallowed speech hath thus transgressed ? 
 
 My mother — yes, my mother — woe is me, 
 
 Who bare me, and, not knowing who knew not her, 
 
 To me bare children — to herself disgrace. 
 
 But this one thing I know, thy will consents 
 
 To slander her and me, but never mine 
 
 To wed her — nay, nor now to speak these things. 
 
 But neither in this marriage shall men call 
 
 Me guilty — nor that murder of my sire, 
 
 Wherewith thy bitter taunts upbraid me still. 990 
 
 For answer this one question that I ask. 
 
 Thou'rt just : stood one before thee, here and now, 
 
 To slay thee, say, wouldst ask the murderer 
 
 'Art thou my father?' or reckon with him straight? 
 
 I think, as life is dear to thee, thou'dst pay 
 
 The aggressor back, nor reason of the right. 
 
 Yet into such an evil strait came I, 
 
 Driven by the gods; nor would my father's spirit, 
 
 Come back to life, methinks, gainsay me this. 
 
 Unjust thou art — thou who hast deemed it well, 1000 
 
 Things named and nameless, all to blurt alike, 
 
 Before these men heaping such taunts on me. 
 
 Well, too, to flatter with thy tongue the king, 
 
 And this well-settled order of the state; 
 
ioS OEDIPUS AT COLONUS. 
 
 But thou hast forgotten of many praises one, 
 
 That, of all lands that know to serve the gods 
 
 With holy worship, none with this may vie, 
 
 Whence thou hast stolen — old, and a suppliant, 
 
 Laid hands on me, and borne my daughters hence. 
 
 Therefore, importunate, with instant prayer, ioio 
 
 I do entreat these goddesses to come 
 
 My friends and my deliverers, that thou 
 
 May'st learn what manner of men defend this town. 
 
 Chor. The man is innocent, Ο king : consumed 
 By misery — worthier therefore of our help. 
 
 Thes. Enough of words : the robbers with their prey 
 Are fleet — and we, the plundered, stand amazed. 
 
 Cre. What is thy will ? how serve the sightless one ? 
 
 Thes. Lead thou the way ; I'll keep thee company ; 
 The road lies there — so, if hard by thou hast 1020 
 
 These children hid, thou shalt thyself produce them ; 
 But, if their captors flee, we may sit still : 
 There are who chase them — whom, out of this land, 
 They shall not boast to heaven they have escaped. 
 Lead, then : and know that grappling thou art grappled, 
 In thine own pit by good hap fallen : as when 
 Kept fraud possession of its ill-got gains ? 
 Nor put thy trust in friends : for surely thou 
 Not friendless nor unfurnished hast put on 
 This brazen front, that would outface us here ; 1030 
 
 But, some one trusting, didst attempt this deed. 
 
OEDIPUS AT COLO Ν US. 109 
 
 This must be looked to, nor through my neglect 
 One man prove stronger than a cityful. 
 Doth this move thee, or seems it all as vain 
 Now, 'twixt my lips, as when the plot was hatched ? 
 
 Cre. Thee here I shall not blame, say what thou wilt : 
 At home, we too shall know what things to do. 
 
 Thes. Threaten, but go : and, Oedipus, remain 
 Untroubled here, trusting my word for this, 
 That, if I live so long, I shall not rest 1040 
 
 Until thy children are thine own again. 
 
 Oed. My blessing, Theseus, on thy noble mind, 
 And this so loyal care in our behalf. 
 
 Chor. Oh might I be, where soon \Strophe 1. 
 
 The foemen's ranks at bay 
 Shall mix the brazen clangour of the fight, 
 Or on the Pythian cliffs, 
 Or by the torchlit strand, 
 
 Where nurse those Powers august their awful rites 
 For mortal men, upon whose tongue 1050 
 
 The ministrant Eumolpidae 
 Have laid the pressure of their golden key : 
 For there methinks shall Theseus wake the war, 
 And with the captive sister maidens twain 
 Close, with a shout of victory : 
 
 There shall they turn and fight — 1060 
 
 Or farther to the west \Antistrophe 1. 
 
 Beyond the snowy peak, 
 
ι ίο OEDIPUS A Τ COLONUS. 
 
 Past Oea's pastures fair, perchance they flee, 
 
 Either on horses borne 
 
 Or racing chariots swift. 
 
 But vain their flight : stout champions hath this place, 
 
 And mighty men call Theseus king. 
 
 For flashes every rein like flame, 
 
 And every rider on his steed's stretched neck 
 
 Flings loose the bridle-gear, and gallops hard — 1070 
 
 Knights, who the Virgin-Knight Athene serve, 
 
 And this land's patron, Rhea's son, 
 
 The ruler of the sea. 
 
 Are they about it now, [Strophe 2. 
 
 Or do they breathe before they fight ? 
 
 I know not, but my mind 
 
 Presageth me that soon 
 
 The spoiler shall give back 
 
 The maiden sorely tried, sorely by kinsmen vexed. 
 
 To-day, to-day, some great thing Zeus shall do : 
 
 I prophesy the triumph of the right. 10S0 
 
 Oh that I were a dove, that I might wing the wind 
 
 With pinion swift and strong, 
 
 And from some airy pinnacle of cloud 
 
 Content mine eyes with gazing on the fray ! 
 
 Zeus, who beholdest all, \Antistrophe 2. 
 
 Whom all in earth and heaven obey, 
 
 Give ear unto my prayer, 
 
 That, with victorious might. 
 
OEDIPUS AT COLON US. 
 
 The guardians of this land 
 
 Upon the goodly prize may spring, and make an end — 
 
 And hear me, Pallas, Athene, Virgin dread : 1090 
 
 And thou, Apollo, lover of the chase, 
 
 And thou, his sister, huntress-maid, that followest up 
 
 The dappled fleet-foot stag — 
 
 Oh hear me both, and come, a double strength, 
 
 To help this land and people at their need. 
 
 Ο wanderer, our guest, thou shalt not call 
 
 Thy watchman a false prophet ; for I see, 
 
 Escorted hither, thy daughters near at hand. 
 
 Oed. Oh where ? what sayest thou ? 
 
 Ant. Ο father mine, 
 
 I would some god would give thee sight to see noo 
 
 This noble man, who hath brought us back to thee. 
 
 Oed. Ο child, are ye come back ? 
 
 A?it. Yea, for these hands 
 
 Of Theseus saved us, and his friendly troop. 
 
 Oed. Come near and stand beside me, let my arms 
 Fold whom they never thought to clasp again. 
 
 Ant. Have thy desire : we crave what we bestow. 
 
 Oed. Where then, where are ye ? 
 
 Ant. Close beside thee here. 
 
 Oed. Ο dearest saplings from this parent stem! 
 
 Ant. A father loves his own, whate'er it be. 
 
 Oed. Props I have leaned on. 
 
 Ant. Luckless we and thou, mo 
 
 1 
 
C ED I PUS AT COLO Ν US. 
 
 Oed. I hold ye, dear ones ; nor were ill content 
 So now to die, with you beside me both. 
 So let an arm of each on either hand 
 Press close and prop me, children, so that I 
 May rest from wandering, weary and alone. 
 And tell me briefly how the deed was done : 
 Brief speech for tender maidens shall suffice. 
 
 Ant. This man, Ο father, saved us ; ask of him. 
 So briefly I shall speak and thou shalt hear. 
 
 Oed. Marvel not, friend, these dear ones lost and 
 found 
 Made me forget myself in eager speech. 1120 
 
 Full well I know that all from thee proceeds 
 This joy I have to see their face again. 
 For thou, no other man, didst rescue them. 
 May heaven all my will perform for thee, 
 And for thy land ; since nowhere upon earth, 
 Save only here, I found god-fearing hearts, 
 And generous minds, and lips that could not lie. 
 I know what deeds with these poor thanks I pay. 
 All that I have's thy gift and only thine. 
 Reach hither thy hand, Ο king, that I may touch it, 1130 
 And kiss thy face, unless I am too bold. 
 Nay, but what words are these ? Shall I, poor wretch, 
 Desire that thou shouldst touch a man, in whom 
 What guilty stain's not deep ingrained ? Not I : 
 Nay, nor thou shalt not. Only they can bear 
 
OEDIPUS AT COLO Ν US. 
 
 This load with me, who know it for their own. 
 Untouched — I bid thee hail ; and be thou still 
 True friend to me, as to this hour thou art. 
 
 T/ies. Small marvel, truly, if thy glad surprise 
 Poured itself forth and overflowed in speech — 1140 
 
 And first to these, not heeding me the while. 
 Nought's to forgive : such slight is none to me. 
 For not in high-flown speeches but in deeds 
 I'd have the splendour of my life appear. 
 Thou hast the proof. Have I now sworn to thee 
 And not performed ? For here thy daughters stand 
 Living, and all unscathed of all those threats. 
 And how the fight was won, what need that I 
 Should idly boast ? Some day they'll tell thee all. 
 But now let thy conjecture second mine, 1150 
 
 What means this rumour, met me by the way, 
 Soon told indeed, but worth thy pondering. 
 There's nought so small, merits a man's contempt. 
 
 Oed. What rumour, son of Aegeus ? let me hear : 
 I know not yet whereat thy question aims. 
 
 T/ies. 'Tis said some man, no countryman of thine, 
 But kinsman, prostrate in some suppliant wise, 
 Hath clasped Poseidon's altar, where erewhile 
 I left the sacrifice to succour thee. 
 
 Oed. Yea, of what land? and wherefore suppliant ? 1160 
 
 Thes. I know not, save that, as they say, brief speech 
 And nowise burthensome he craves with thee. 
 
1 1 4 OEDIPUS A Τ COL ONUS. 
 
 Oed. Yet suppliant ? 'tis no trifle that he seeks. 
 
 Thes. He asks, they say, to come, confer with thee, 
 Then go, and of his coming take no harm. 
 
 Oed. Who can he be that sits and thus entreats ? 
 
 Thes. Bethink thee, hast thou at Argos any kin, 
 Who might desire this favour at thy hands ? 
 
 Oed. Ο good my friend, no more ! 
 
 Thes. What ails thee, say. 
 
 Oed. Require it not. 
 
 Thes. Require not what ? explain. 1170 
 
 Oed. I know, for these have told me, who he is. 
 
 Thes. \Vho can he be, of me to merit blame ? 
 
 Oed. My son, Ο king, that hated one, whose speech 
 Of all men's most would vex my ears to hear. 
 
 Thes. How? canst thou not hear and not do, if 
 that 
 Mislikes thee ? Is it so bitter a thing, to hear ? 
 
 Oed. My son's voice, king, to me sounds hatefully: 
 'Pray thee, constrain me not to yield this thing. 
 
 Thes. Bethink thee, doth not his suppliant state con- 
 strain ? 
 Look thou forget not, but of the god beware. «80 
 
 Ant My father, hear the counsel of a child. 
 Suffer this man, in this that he desires, 
 Give to his soul, and to the god, content : 
 And yield to us, to let our brother come. 
 He may not pluck thee from thy steadfast mind, 
 
OEDIPUS AT COL ONUS. 1 1 5 
 
 Or force consent to words unprofitable : 
 
 What harm to hear him speak ? Hear then and judge : 
 
 Let speech declare if deeds be purposed well. 
 
 Is he not thine — thy son ? whom, no, not even 
 
 Of all ill sons most impious though he be, "90 
 
 May'st thou, my father, with ill deeds requite. 
 
 Oh let him — other men, with thankless sons, 
 
 And spirits hot as thine, are of their mood 
 
 Exorcised by the wisdom of a friend — 
 
 So thou, look from the present to the past, 
 
 Think of thy parents and the former grief, 
 
 And, pondering this, I know thou wilt confess, 
 
 Anger that's evil hath an evil end ; 
 
 Since no slight argument herein is thine, 
 
 The lifelong losing of thy blinded eyes. 1200 
 
 Yield thou to us. Insistence ill beseems 
 
 Our just petition ; ill beseems that thou, 
 
 Receiving, knowest not how to render good. 
 
 Oed. A grievous pleasure, child, ye wring from me — 
 Ye with your pleading. But be it as ye will. 
 Only, if come he must, friend, have a care, 
 No violent hands upon my life be laid. 
 
 Thes. I have no mind, old man, to hear again, 
 Once heard, thy terrors. Braggart I am none : 
 Know thyself safe, if any god saves me. 1210 
 
 Chor. Beyond the common lot who lusts to live, [Sir. 
 Nor sets a limit to desire, 
 
1 1 6 OEDIPUS A Τ COLONUS. 
 
 Of me no doubtful word shall win — 
 
 A fool, in love with foolishness. 
 
 Since long life hath in store for him to know 
 
 Full many things drawn nearer unto grief, 
 
 And gone from sight all pleasant things that were ; 
 
 Till, fallen on overmuch 
 
 Fulfilment of desire, 
 
 One only friend he sees can help — 1220 
 
 Friend, who shall come when da\vns at last 
 
 The day that knows not bridal song 
 
 Nor lyre nor dance, that fatal day 
 
 Whose equal doom all we abide — 
 
 Shall come, kind Death, and make an end ! 
 > Not to be born is past disputing best : \Antistrophe. 
 \ And, after this, his lot transcends, 
 
 Who, seen on earth for briefest while, 
 
 Thither returns from whence he came. 
 
 For, with its fluttering follies all aswarm, 1230 
 
 Who needs, while youth abides, go far afield 
 
 To heap vexation ? What's the missing plague ? 
 
 Slaughters are here, and strife, 
 
 Factions, and wars, and spite. 
 
 And still life's crowning ill's to bear — 
 
 Last scene of all, of all condemned, 
 
 Unfriended, uncompanioned Age, 
 
 When strength is gone, but grief remains, 
 
 And every evil that is named — 
 
OEDIPUS A Τ COL ONUS. 1 1 7 
 
 Evil of evil, grief of grief. 
 
 As now this man, not wretched I alone — [Epode. 
 
 Lo, like some promontory northward set, 1240 
 
 Wave-buffeted by all fierce winds that rave — 
 
 So buffet him, nor cease, 
 
 Poured on his helpless head, 
 
 All shattering billows of outrageous fate, 
 
 Some from the setting sun, 
 
 And from the rising some, 
 
 Some with the mid-noon beam, 
 
 Some from the starry shimmerings of the night. 
 
 Ant. Lo where toward us the stranger, as I think, — 
 Nay, none but he, my father — from his eyes 1250 
 
 Full flood of tears outpouring, hither comes. 
 
 Oed. Say, who? 
 
 Ant. The same that from the first our thoughts 
 
 Conjectured, Polyneices — stands beside thee. 
 
 Pol. Ah me, what shall I say ? shall I lament 
 First for myself, Ο sisters, or for him, 
 This old man, this my father, whom I see ? 
 Whom, exiled, in a strange land here with you 
 I find, clad in such garb, whose foulness mars, 
 Inveterate, unlovely, like a blight, 
 The time-worn flesh it cleaves to ; and his locks 1260 
 AVild on the breeze from sightless temples stream ; 
 And fare with garb seems all too well to suit — 
 This that, to stay the hunger-pinch, he bears. 
 
1 1 S OEDIPUS A Τ COLONUS. 
 
 Ο agony of knowledge known too late ! 
 
 Vilest of men I stand, thy plight for proof, 
 
 Self-witnessed: ask not others what I am. 
 
 Ah yet, for Mercy by the side of Zeus 
 
 Sits throned for judgment ever — shall she not 
 
 By thee find place, my father ? Give me leave 
 
 To mend my fault ; I cannot make it worse. 1270 
 
 Still silent ? 
 
 Speak to me, father : turn not away thy face ! 
 
 Answerest thou me nothing? shall I go, 
 
 Scorned, with no word — thine anger silent too ? 
 
 Ο ye, my sisters, daughters of this man, 
 
 Perchance ye shall be able to unlock 
 
 These most obdurate, unrelenting lips — 
 
 Let him not thus with scorn dismiss me hence, 
 
 Poseidon's suppliant, answered not at all. 1279 
 
 Ant. Thyself, unhappy, say, what wouldst thou here ? 
 Stint not thy speaking ; pleasant words to hear, 
 Indignant words, or words compassionate — 
 Speak on — till speech from silence wring response. 
 
 Pol. Yes, I will speak : thou dost instruct me well. 
 Thus then, entreating first Poseidon's self 
 To aid me, from whose altar came I hither 
 Raised by the ruler of this land, with leave 
 To speak and hear, and scatheless to depart : — 
 Whose promise, strangers, rests with you, and these 
 My sisters and my father, to make good. 1290 
 
OEDIPUS A Τ COL ONUS. 1 1 9 
 
 Wherefore I came, now, father, thou shalt hear. 
 
 Exiled and outcast from my home am I, 
 
 For that I urged, being of elder birth, 
 
 My title to possess thy kingly seat. 
 
 Therefore did Eteocles thrust me forth, 
 
 His elder, nor with reasons vanquished me, 
 
 Nor challenged me to trial of deeds and strength, 
 
 But stole the heart o' the city. Mark me — first, 
 
 I say that thine Erinys hath done this : 
 
 Next, hearken what fromjpjnophets I have learned. 1300 
 
 For, when to Dorian Argos I had come, 
 
 And had Adrastus' daughter to my wife, 
 
 Swore oath to help me, of the Apian land, 
 
 All foremost names and honourablest in war — 
 
 That, gathering, I with them, the sevenfold host 
 
 'Gainst Thebes, I fighting for the right should fall, 
 
 Or dispossess the doers of the wrong. 
 
 But now, these things being so, why came I here ? 
 
 With supplication and with prayer to thee, 
 
 Both for myself, Ο father, and my friends — 1310 
 
 The seven spears that gathering even now 
 
 With seven armies gird the Theban plain: 
 
 Swift-speared Amphiaraiis, best of all 
 
 In battle, best to read the flights of birds ; 
 
 And the Aetolian son of Aeneus second, 
 
 Tydeus : and Argive Eteoclus third: 
 
 The fourth was by his father Talaus sent, 
 
1 20 OEDIPUS A Τ COL ONUS. 
 
 Hippomedon ; and Capaneus, the fifth, 
 
 Vows that with fire Thebes-city he will rase ; 
 
 Arcadian Parthenopaeus rushes sixth, 1320 
 
 Named of his mother, virgin-famed till he 
 
 Was born — of Atalanta trusty son ; 
 
 Last, I thy son (or, if not thine, but child 
 
 Of mere mishap, yet named at least of thee) 
 
 From Argos lead 'gainst Thebes a fearless band. 
 
 Father, all these entreat thee — for the love 
 
 Thou hast of these thy daughters and thy life — 
 
 Let not thy stubborn anger come between 
 
 And screen my brother from my swift revenge — 
 
 Brother, that stripped and thrust me from my home. 1330 
 
 For, unto whom, if oracles speak true, 
 
 Thou shalt be friend, the victory is his. 
 
 Then, by our fountains and our fathers' gods, 
 
 Father, I charge thee, hear me and relent. 
 
 Beggared am I and exiled, exiled thou; 
 
 And on the smiles of others thou and I 
 
 Live, courtiers both, like fortune having found. 
 
 And there the while — Ο torture — in our home 
 
 He kings it in his pride, and flouts us both. 
 
 But, let thy purpose second mine, it costs 1340 
 
 Small toil or time to bruise such pride to dust. 
 
 So shall I bring thee home, at home to dwell, 
 
 And home return myself, and cast him forth. 
 
 Such triumph I may boast, if thou consent ; 
 
OEDIPUS A Τ COL ON US. 121 
 
 Without thee, life's not mine, to call my own. 
 
 Chor. For his sake, Oedipus, who brought him hither, 
 Answering what things are meet, so send him hence. 
 
 Oed. Had it not chanced the keeper of your land, 
 King Theseus, friends, had brought him to this place, 
 And for him claimed that he should hear my mind, 1350 
 Scarcely this voice had sounded in his ears. 
 Now, graced he shall depart and answered, so, 
 It shall not add much comfort to his life : — 
 Thy life, most base, that, sceptred and enthroned, 
 Sitting where now in Thebes thy brother sits, 
 Me, thine own father, didst banish from the land, 
 And mad'st me citiless and to wear this garb, 
 That moves thy tears, beholding, now thou'rt come, 
 With me, into the self-same evil plight. 
 Ay, well for thee to weep, but I must bear 1360 
 
 This — whatso life is mine, remembering thee 
 My murderer ; for thou didst acquaint my days 
 AVith grief, and cast me forth and banish me 
 To beg from door to door my daily bread : 
 And, for thy part, but that my daughters were 
 My nurses, surely now I had not been : 
 Now, these have nursed me, these have saved my life, 
 These maidens — men, not maidens, for their help : 
 But ye, called sons, are no true sons of mine. 
 Therefore the god regards thee — nowise yet 137° 
 
 As soon he shall, if Thebes-ward now thy hosts 
 
122 OEDIPUS AT COLONUS. 
 
 Are moving. Never shall ye call fair Thebes 
 Your city. Red with brother's blood shall glow 
 Thy hands and his; together shall ye fall. 
 Forth from my lips aforetime went the curse, 
 And now I call it, ' Curse, come fight for me ' — 
 That ye may know a father should be honoured, 
 And scorn no more, though he be blind, who got 
 Such sons. For these my daughters did not so. 
 Then prate not of thine altars and thy thrones ; 1380 
 
 From both thou'rt banned, if Justice as of old 
 Interprets still the ancient laws of Zeus. 
 Go hence, abhorred, beyond all baseness base, 
 Unfather'd : and for blessing this my curse 
 Go with thee — neither with thy spears to storm 
 The city of thy kin, nor Argos-vale 
 Revisit, but there with fratricidal hand 
 Slay_who hath banished thee, and by him be slain. 
 I curse thee with these curses, and I bid 
 The hated gloom of Tartarus receive 
 And yield thee heritage of homes far hence. 1390 
 
 And ye, dread goddesses, and Ares, help, 
 That hast of furious hate fulfilled their hearts ! 
 Go, bear my answer hence, and tell it out 
 To every Theban, and thine own good friends — 
 To those stout champions say, that Oedipus 
 Such goodly gifts unto his sons dispensed. 
 C/ior. Polyneices, of thy goings heretofore 
 
OEDIPUS AT COLONUS. 123 
 
 Small joy I give thee ; and now with haste go hence. 
 
 Pol. Ah me, my coming, and my hopes o'erthrown ! 
 And ah, my friends ! to what a journey's end 1400 
 
 Fared we from Argos forth, woe worth the day — 
 Such end, I dare not even speak and show 
 My friends, to turn them back the way they came ; 
 But silent I must go to meet my doom. 
 Yet, daughters of this father, sisters mine, 
 That hear my father curse me to my face, 
 Ο sisters, ye, have pity — if the curse 
 Fall, and to you be given safe return 
 To Thebes and home, dishonour me not then — 
 With all due rites of burial see me JaicU 1410 
 
 So shall the praise, of daughters ministrant, 
 That now ye have, get other praise beside, 
 Nor meaner, for such service done to me. 
 
 Ant. I pray thee, Polyneices, hear me speak. 
 
 Pol. What wouldst thou, sister, dear Antigone ? 
 
 Ant. Make haste to bid thy host to Argos back ; 
 Wreak not destruction on thyself and Thebes. 
 
 Pol. I may not hear thee. How again could I 
 Lead on those armies, once had seen me blench ? 
 
 Ant. AVhy needs thy wrath be kindled any more ? 1420 
 What gain to thee, thy city in the dust ? 
 
 Pol. Shame now to me, that I the elder-born 
 Am banished by my brother and defied. 
 
 Ant. A swift fulfilment then his word shall win, 
 
124 OEDIPUS AT COLONUS. 
 
 Who dooms you each the other's murderer. 
 
 Pol. His word's his wish : no yielding is for me. 
 
 Ant. Nay then what help? But who dares follow thee, 
 Hearing what fate thy father hath foretold ? 
 
 Pol. Ill words I'll not report. Wjse^generals 
 Announce the better tidings, hide^trre worse. 1430 
 
 Ant. Boy, art thou then resolved to go thy way ? 
 
 Pol. Resolved, beyond withholding. Drear and dark 
 Shall be, I know, this road that I must fare : 
 My fat her an d his Furies jso have jaalled. 
 Be your path happier — so ye mind, in death, 
 My asking ; since in life no more ye may. 
 
 Now loose me — and farewell. For nevermore 
 
 *- 
 
 Shall yebe hold me living s — , 
 
 Ant. Woe is me ! 
 
 Pol. Weep not for me. 
 
 A?it. Who, brother, would not mourn 
 
 Thy headlong haste into the jaws of death ? 1440 
 
 Pol. If I must die, I will. 
 
 Ant. Nay, hearken yet. 
 
 Pol. Nought that I should not. 
 
 Ant. Wretched then am I, 
 
 If I must lose thee ! 
 
 Pol. Fortune sees to that — 
 
 Whether thou shalt or no. But for you twain, 
 Gods grant me this, no evil hap to you : 
 For, that ye have deserved none, all men see. 
 
OEDIPUS A Τ COL ONUS. 125 
 
 Chor. Lo how from new occasion trouble new [Strophe, 
 And new entanglement of evil grows — 
 And whom to blame ? This sightless stranger still ? 
 Or Fate's inevitable stroke ? 1450 
 
 This rather : for I cannot tell 
 Of aught that Heaven in vain hath willed. 
 All time, all time, be witness else- — 
 Time that is charged with other work to-day, 
 But shall to-morrow build what now lies low. 
 List to the thunder ! Shield us, Zeus ! 
 
 Oed. Ο children, would that some one — some one 
 near — 
 Would go to bring the noble Theseus hither. 
 
 Ant. What business, father, hast thou with the king ? 
 
 Oed. Hence now to Hades summons me this winged 
 Zeus-voice of thunder. Tarry not, but send. 1461 
 
 Chor. Again, with louder noise, the air is rent — \Antistr. 
 Uproar, that from the hand of Zeus is hurled, 
 Unutterable. Fear through all my blood 
 Runs freezing, to my startled hair. 
 My spirit shrinks : again, again, 
 The lightning flames across the sky. 
 What follows in its fiery wake ? 
 Ah me, I fear ; for not indeed for nought, 
 But boding some mischance, these portents blaze. 1470 
 Ο great dread sky ! Ο sovereign Zeus ! 
 
 Oed. Children, the end is come of all myjiays ; 
 

 1 26 OEDIPUS A Τ COL ONUS. 
 
 The god fulfils his word ; retreat is none. 
 
 Ant. How knowest thou ? or what sign hast of this ? 
 
 Oed. I know it well. But quickly let them go. 
 And callj ne here th e^ruler of rhiaiand. v^*" 
 
 Chor. Again the ear-besieging \_Strophe. 
 
 Soul-piercing rattle of the storm ! 
 Ye gods, have pity, pity on us, 
 
 If on our mother land 1480 
 
 Frown thus your sunless skies. 
 Ο righteous be the feet, 
 Whose ways encounter mine ; 
 Nor let me see a man accurst, 
 Lest I partake with him 
 Reward not fraught with gain — 
 Lord Zeus, I cry to thee ! 
 
 Oed. Is the man near ? Ο children, shall he find 
 Me living, ordering still my thoughts aright ? 
 
 Ant. What certitude wouldst thou thy thought should 
 hold ? 
 
 Oed. To pay the debt I owe them, and make good 
 That promise, when he gave me my desire. 1490 
 
 Chor. Ο son, come forth, come hither : [Antistrofihe. 
 Or, at the cliff's edge, where the cliff 
 Curves, and Poseidon's altars smoke 
 Seaward, if haply there 
 Thou sacrificest — come ! 
 Thy guest, this stranger, deems 
 
OEDIPUS A Τ COL ONUS. 1 2 7 
 
 Thy town and friends and thou, 
 
 For help ye gave him at his need, 
 
 Have at his hands deserved 
 
 Like measure to receive. 
 
 King, pause not, hither haste ! 1499 
 
 Thes. How now ? what clamour raise ye all at once — 
 Distinct your voices, and the stranger's clear ? 
 Lightning from Zeus appals ye, or the sharp 
 Scourge of the driving hail-shower ? Nought's beyond 
 Conjecture, when the god brews storm like this. 
 
 Oed. Desired, Ο king, thou comest ; and some god 
 Gives thee good fortune, in that thou art come. 
 
 Thes. What new thing, son of Lai'us, is to tell ? 
 
 Oed. My life determines here. Nor would I die 
 A promise-breaker to thy town and thee. 1509 
 
 Thes. Wherein rests thy belief that thou shalt die ? 
 
 Oed. The gods themselves are heralds of their will, 
 Nor of the signs predestined fails there aught. 
 
 Thes. What signs, old man? How are these things 
 revealed ? 
 
 Oed. By this unceasing thunder, peal on peal — 
 With bolt on bolt, flashed from the almighty hand. 
 
 Thes. It is enough : prophet of many things, 
 True prophet, I have found thee : speak thy will. 
 
 Oed. My words, Ο son of Aegeus, shall endure, 
 To stead thy city — nor with age wax faint. 
 'Tis time that I should lead thee — I, no hand 1520 
 
1 28 OEDIPUS A Τ COL ONUS. 
 
 My steps to lead — thither, where I must die. 
 
 But secret be the spot from all men else, 
 
 What thicket hides it, and what region holds ; 
 
 That, more than many shields, and borrowed spear 
 
 Of neighbours, help unfailing may be thine. 
 
 And thou shalt learn, come thither, thou alone, 
 
 Such things — accurst be he that utters them : 
 
 To no one of thy people may I tell 
 
 Their purport, nor m y ch ildren, whom I love. 1529 
 
 Locked in thy breast, still keep them : and when thy life 
 
 Draws to its close, repeat them but to one, 
 
 Thy chiefest ; hetojiis heir, and he to his — 
 
 So shall the Dragon's brood not harm thy home, 
 
 This city. But a people, myriad-voiced, 
 
 Lightly, in fairest-ordered state, breaks forth 
 
 To licence. For the seeing gods see late, 
 
 When men turn madmen and forget to fear, f 
 
 Be that, Ο son of Aegeus, far from thee. 
 
 Enough ; I teach thee, by thine own heart taught : 
 
 Now, for the god is instant, calling me, 1540 
 
 Seek we the place, brood not, nor question more. 
 
 Come, children, follow, for our parts are changed ; 
 
 Behold, your father leads you, whom ye led. 
 
 Follow, and touch me not, but let me find, 
 
 Myself, the holy place, the destined tomb, 
 
 Where in this land this body must be laid. 
 
 Onward, still onward, follow : this way lead 
 
OEDIPUS AT COLON US. 129 
 
 Attendant Hermes and the Queen of Shades. 
 
 Ο darkened light, light that wast sometime mine, 
 
 This body of mine shall feel thee never more. 1550 
 
 For now I go, go hence to hide, where all 
 
 Is dark, my life's departing. Friend beloved, 
 
 Upon thy servants and this land and thee 
 
 All blessings light ; and, when ye most are blessed, 
 
 Remember me, whose death your bliss secured. 
 
 Chor. If to the Invisible Goddess, and to thee, \_Str. 
 King of the kingdoms of the night, 
 To fall down and to worship and to pray 
 Be not unmeet for me, 
 
 Ο dread dark lord Aidoneus, grant me this, 1560 
 
 That by no troublesome and no grievous death 
 This stranger to the Stygian halls may win, 
 And those vast fields at last of the under-world, 
 Whose universal glooms enfold 
 The nations of the dead. 
 So after all his evil days, 
 So evil and so many and so thwart, 
 The gods shall right him, for the gods are just, 
 With honour at the last. 
 
 Ο under earth great Goddesses, and thou \Antistrophe. 
 Indomitable and monstrous Form, 
 
 That at the pillared shining doors, men say, 1570 
 
 Keepest thy kennelled couch, 
 And from the cavern's jaws thy gnarring noise 
 
OEDIPUS AT COLONUS. 
 
 Sounds, and the fame is constant, that thine eyes 
 
 Fail not from watching at the gate of Death — 
 
 Grant me, great son of Tartarus and Ge, 
 
 Clear of the dreadful hound's approach 
 
 The stranger's path may lie — 
 
 That sunless path whereby he hastes 
 
 Down to thy shadowy-peopled fields, Ο Death — 
 
 Yea, for I cry to thee, lord of the night 
 
 Whose sleep no morning breaks. 
 
 Mess. Sirs, and my townsmen, summed in a word, my 
 tale 
 Concludes in this, that Oedipus is dead : 1580 
 
 But of the manner needs more breath to tell, 
 Nor was it in the acting all so brief. 
 
 Chor. Dead, hapless one, is he ? 
 
 Mess. Doubt not, but know, 
 
 What life, lifelong, was his, is his no more. 
 
 Chor. Had the gods pity? Passed he with no 
 pain ? 
 
 Mess. Ay, there thou hast it ; marvel now at this. 
 Hence how he went, thou knowest, for thou wast here 
 Beholding — guided by no friendly hand, 
 Followed by us instead, himself the guide. 
 But when to that sheer threshold he had come, 1590 
 
 Paven with brass and rooted in the rock, 
 Of the divided ways he chose him one, 
 And nigh the urn that keeps the memory 
 
OEDIPUS AT COLO Ν US. 
 
 How Theseus with Peirithoiis plighted faith, 
 
 'Twixt that he stood and the Thorician scaur, 
 
 Midmost the hollow pear-tree and the tomb, 
 
 Rock-hewn ; then sate him down, and loosed his soiled 
 
 Apparel, and called his children, and bade them bring 
 
 Water for washing from some fountain near 
 
 And for libation. They to yonder height, 
 
 Hill of Demeter who clothes the fields with green, 1600 
 
 Hied them, and brought the bidding of their sire, 
 
 With swift despatch, and washed and did on him 
 
 Fair raiment, as the manner is to do. 
 
 But when of doing he had all content, 
 
 And nought that he desired was left undone, 
 
 Came thunder underground, and at the sound 
 
 The maidens shuddered, and at their father's knees 
 
 Fell weeping, nor refrained, but beat their breasts 
 
 And with their lamentations filled the air. 
 
 But, when he heard that sudden bitter cry, 1610 
 
 He folded them within his arms, and said, 
 
 " Ο daughters, ye are left fatherless this day : 
 
 For all my life falls from me ; never more 
 
 Shall ye be troubled with your care of me. 
 
 Children, I know how hard it was ; and yet 
 
 One little word, I know, pays all the pain. 
 
 There is not any one who loves you so 
 
 As this man loved you, orphaned of whose love 
 
 This day and all your days henceforth shall be." 
 
132 OEDIPUS AT COLON US. 
 
 So locked together in a last embrace, 1620 
 
 They sobbed and wept, all three. But when at last 
 
 Their tears were spent, and no cry more outbrake, 
 
 But they stood silent, on the silence fell 
 
 A voice of one who summoned, and its sound 
 
 Stiffened with sudden fear the hair of all 
 
 Who heard : for the god called, and called again, 
 
 "Oedipus, Oedipus, why tarriest thou 
 
 With these so long? 'tis time that we were gone." 
 
 And when he knew the summons of the god, 
 
 He bade the king, Theseus, come nigher to him, 1630 
 
 And when he came besought him, " Ο my friend, 
 
 Give to these children, and children, ye to him, 
 
 Right hands, the ancient pledge ; and promise thou, 
 
 Thou'lt not forsake them willingly, and wilt do 
 
 All that thou doest, wisely, for their good." 
 
 Then he, the noble man, with no weak tears, 
 
 Promised, and sealed the promise with an oath. 
 
 So Theseus sware, and Oedipus thereat 
 
 Felt for his daughters with his sightless hands, 
 
 And found, and said, " Ο children, get ye gone, 1640 
 
 With noble hearts and patient ; nor desire 
 
 To see the things ye may not, nor to hear. 
 
 Make haste to go : the things that shall be done 
 
 No man but Theseus it concerns to know." 
 
 Such words he spake, and we obeyed his speech, 
 
 All we that heard, and stinting not our tears 
 
OEDIPUS AT COLO Ν US. 
 
 Forth with the maidens followed; but went not far, 
 
 Or ere we_turned to look, and looked, and saw 
 
 The man was gone, no Oedipus was there ; 
 
 Only the king, holding athwart his brow 1650 
 
 A hand that screened his eyes, as to shut out 
 
 Some dreadful and intolerable sight. 
 
 And then, for one brief minute and no more, 
 
 We saw him make obeisance, all at once, 
 
 Both to the earth and to the gods in heaven. 
 
 But by what manner of death died Oedipus, 
 
 No man can tell, but Theseus, he alone. 
 
 For it was not any firebolt, swift from heaven, 
 
 Despatched him, no, nor a wh irlwi nd from the sea 
 
 Rose in a minute and caught him from our sight ; 1660 
 
 But either the gods took him, or the earth 
 
 Was kind, and opened for him her cavernous jaws. 
 
 For nowise lamentably he passed, nor slain 
 
 By sickness, pitiably — a marvel, how — 
 
 Whose like was never. Idle is my talk ? 
 
 Who lists may think so ; him I'll not regard. 
 
 Chor. Where are the maidens and their company ? 
 
 Mess. Not they far hence : hither not doubtfully 
 Voice of their weeping heralds their approach. 
 
 Ant. Alas, not now, ah not for us — [Strophe 1. 1670 
 Daughters we of a strain accurst — 
 To weep and to refrain : 
 We, upon whom erewhile was laid 
 
134 OEDIPUS AT COLONUS. 
 
 Constant the weight of our father's sorrow, 
 And what we have seen at the last and suffered, 
 None may conjecture, save we who tell. 
 
 Chor. How is't with you ? 
 
 Ant. Ah, friends, this baffles thought. 
 
 Chor. Gone is he ? 
 
 Ant. As thou wouldst go, if thou couldst choose. 
 
 How else, whom not in battle \StropJie 2. 
 
 Death met, nor on the sea, 1680 
 
 But with invisible hand the viewless fields 
 Clutched him, and dragged him down ? 
 Alas, but on our sight hath fallen 
 A darkness as of death. 
 Nay, for in far-off lands unknown, 
 Or homeless on the tossing wave, 
 Our life's intolerable plight 
 How shall our hearts endure ? 
 
 I know not. Hades, shedder of blood, 1689 
 
 Me also, young with the old, daughter with father, slay, 
 Wretched. Not life any more, but death for me ! 
 
 Chor. Ο ye two noble daughters, 
 Heaven's gracious will chide not, 
 Nor with rash heat your hearts inflame : 
 Not blamably ye fare. 
 
 Ant. How precious now seems pain before — [Ant. 1. 
 Dear, the pang that we least desired — 
 When him we still embraced. 
 
OEDIPUS AT COLONUS. 135 
 
 Father, we love thee, love thee yet ; 1700 
 
 Wrapt in the gloom of the grave for ever — 
 But old we have loved thee, and dead remember ; 
 We are thy daughters \ our love endures. 
 
 Chor. He fared. . . . 
 
 A?it. Fared, even as his soul desired. 
 
 Chor. Say, how? 
 
 Ant. In alien land, the land he chose, 
 
 Died he: and hath thereunder [Antistrophe 2. 
 
 His dark deep bed alway, 
 Nor leaves not grief behind, to weep his loss. 
 For still these eyes of mine, 
 
 Father, run over with tears for thee ; 17™ 
 
 Nor know I how to ease 
 Of its dull ache my desolate heart. 
 Ah me, in alien land to die 
 Thou hadst desired ; but so, for me, 
 Lonely thy death befell. 
 Out and alas, for me and for thee 
 Hereafter, sister beloved, destitute, helpless quite, 
 Thus of our father bereft, what lot remains ? 
 
 Chor. Ο children, blissful quittance 
 Of life's last hour was his. 1720 
 
 Cease your complaint : what mortal lives, 
 Impregnable to grief? 
 
 Ant Back, sister, let us haste. 
 
 Ism. What thing to do ? 
 
136 OEDIPUS AT COLO Ν US. 
 
 Ant. Desire possesses me. 
 
 Ism. Of what ? 
 
 Ant. To visit once the home. . . . 
 
 Ism. Say whose? 
 
 Ant. Where under ground, woe's me ! our father 
 rests. 
 
 Ism. How should this thing be granted ? Dost thou 
 not 
 Consider ? 
 
 Ant. Ah, sister, chide me not for this. 1730 
 
 Ism. Then too bethink thee. . . . 
 
 Ant. What's my second fault ? 
 
 Ism. Tomb he hath none, and no man saw his death. 
 
 Ant. Lead me to where he died, and slay me there. 
 
 Ism. Alas for poor Ismene then ! 
 How, lonely, helpless, shall I pass 
 The sad remainder of my days ? 
 
 Chor. Fear not, my daughters. 
 
 Ant . Whither shall I flee ? 
 
 Chor. Fled is that fear and past. 
 
 Ant How fled ? 
 
 Chor. Harm cannot touch you now. i 74 o 
 
 Ant. I think. . . . 
 
 Chor. AVhat idle doubt perplexes now thy heart ? 
 
 Ant How they will suffer us, returning home, 
 I know not. 
 
 Chor. But what then ? Nor seek to know. 
 
OEDIPUS A Τ COL ONUS. 137 
 
 Ant. Ο heavy grief! 
 
 Chor. Not light thy load before. 
 
 Ant. Oh then past cure, but worst is now grown worse. 
 
 Chor. Upon a huge sea then your barks were launched ! 
 
 A?it. Ah, Zeus, ah whither must we go ? 
 Fate drives us onward still, to where 
 Fear in the distance darkly looms. 1750 
 
 Thes. AVeep no more, children, for him 
 With whom in the tomb abides a blessing : 
 Grieve not, nor arraign the gods. 
 
 Ant. Ο son of Aegeus, grant us a boon. 
 
 Thes. Children, what crave ye that I should grant ? 
 
 Ant. With our own eyes that we might look 
 On our father's tomb. 
 
 Thes. Anear that place no foot may tread. 
 
 A?it. King, lord of Athens, what word is this ? 
 
 Thes. Ο children, so did thy father charge me, 1760 
 To let no mortal come nigh the spot, . 
 No voice break silence there, about 
 The sacred grave wherein he rests. 
 And, if I did his bidding well, 
 He said that I should keep this land 
 Safe from all harm for aye. 
 I promised : and Heaven the promise heard, 
 And Horkos, all-hearing, sprung from Zeus. 
 
 Ant. Nay but, if he will have it so, 
 So let it be : but now to 
 
138 OEDIPUS AT COLON US. 
 
 The ancient city, send us hence ; 1770 
 
 If haply we may come between, 
 And, ere our brothers' blood be spilt, 
 Prevent the coming strife. 
 
 Thes. Even this I will : and what beside, 
 That may to you be profitable, 
 Or Jo the dead man, late gone hence, 
 For pleasure, I shall not faint but do. 
 
 Chor. But now leave off; now, now no more 
 Kindle with grieving grief: 
 This promise holds, whate'er betide. 1779 
 
ANTIGONE 
 
PERSONS. 
 
 Creon. 
 
 Haemon. 
 
 Teiresias. 
 
 Sentinel. 
 
 Messenger. 
 
 Second Messenger. 
 
 Eurydice. 
 
 Antigone. 
 
 ISMENE. 
 
 Chorus of Theban Elders. 
 
antigone 
 
 Ant (~\ SISTER-LIFE, Ismene's, twin with mine, 
 ^— * Knowest thou of the burden of our race 
 Aught that from us yet living Zeus holds back ? 
 Nay, for nought grievous and nought ruinous, 
 No shame and no dishonour, have I not seen 
 Poured on our hapless heads, both thine and mine. 
 And even now what edict hath the prince 
 Uttered, men say, to all this Theban folk ? 
 Thou knowest it and hast heard? or 'scapes thy sense, 
 Aimed at thy friends, the mischief of thy foes ? 10 
 
 Ism. To me of friends, Antigone, no word 
 Hath come, or sweet or bitter, since that we 
 Two sisters of two brothers were bereaved, 
 Both on a day slain by a twofold blow : 
 And, now that vanished is the Argive host 
 Ev'n with the night fled hence, I know no more, 
 If that I fare the better or the worse. 
 
 Ant. I knew full well, and therefore from the gates 
 O' the court I led thee hither, alone to hear. 
 
 Ism. There's trouble in thy looks : thy tidings tell. 20 
 
 Ant. Yea, hath not Creon, of our two brothers slain, 
 
142 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Honoured \vith burial one, disdained the other ? 
 
 For Eteocles, they say, he in the earth 
 
 With all fair rites and ceremony hath laid, 
 
 Nor lacks he honour in the world below ; 
 
 But the poor dust of Polyneices dead 
 
 Through Thebes, 'tis said, the edict has gone forth 
 
 That none may bury, none make moan for him, 
 
 But leave umvept, untombed, a dainty prize 
 
 For ravening birds that gloat upon their prey. 30 
 
 So hath our good lord Creon to thee and me 
 
 Published, men say, his pleasure — ay, to me — 
 
 And hither comes, to all who know it not 
 
 Its purport to make plain, nor deems the thing 
 
 Of slight account, but, whoso does this deed, 
 
 A public death by stoning is his doom. 
 
 Thou hast it now ; and quickly shall be proved 
 
 If thou art noble, or base from noble strain. 
 
 Ism. Ο rash of heart, if this indeed be so, 
 What help in me, to loosen or to bind ? 4 o 
 
 Ant. Consider, toil and pain if thou wilt share. 
 
 Ism. On what adventure bound ? What wouldst 
 thou do? 
 
 Ant. To lift his body, wilt thou join with me ? 
 
 Ism. Wouldst thou indeed rebel, and bury him ? 
 
 A tit. My brother I will bury, and thine no less, 
 Whether thou wilt or no : no traitress I. 
 
 Ism. Ο all too bold — when Creon hath forbid ? 
 
ANTIGONE. 143 
 
 Ant. My rights to hinder is no right of his. 
 
 Ism. Ah, sister, yet think how our father died, 
 Wrapt in what cloud of hate and ignominy 50 
 
 By his own sins, self-proved, and both his eyes 
 With suicidal hand himself he stabbed : 
 Then too his mother-wife, two names in one, 
 Fordid with twisted noose her woful life : 
 Last, our two brothers in one fatal day 
 Drew sword, Ο miserable, and each to each 
 Dealt mutual slaughter with unnatural hands : 
 And now shall we twain, who alone are left, 
 Fall like the rest, and worse — in spite of law, 
 And scorning kings, their edicts and their power ? 60 
 
 Oh rather let us think, 'tis not for us, 
 Who are but women, to contend with men: 
 And the king's word is mighty, and to this, 
 And harsher words than this, we needs must bow. 
 Therefore will I, imploring of the dead 
 Forgiveness, that I yield but as I must, 
 Obey the king's commandment : for with things 
 Beyond our reach 'twere foolishness to meddle. - 
 
 Ant. I'll neither urge thee, nor, if now thou'dst help 
 My doing, should I thank thee for thine aid. 70 
 
 Do thou after thy kind : thy choice is made : 
 I'll bury him ; doing this, so let me die. 
 So with my loved one loved shall I abide, 
 My crime a deed most holy : for the dead 
 
144 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Longer have I to please than these on earth. 
 There I shall dwell for ever : be it thine 
 To have scorned what gods have hallowed, if thou 
 wilt. 
 
 Is?n. Nay, nothing do I scorn : but, how to break 
 My country's law — I am witless of the way. 
 
 Ant. Be this thy better part : I go to heap 80 
 
 The earth upon my brother, whom I love. 
 
 Ism. Alas, unhappy, how I fear for thee ! 
 
 Ant. Fear not for me : guide thine own fate aright. 
 
 Ism. Yet breathe this purpose to no ear but mine : 
 Keep thou thy counsel well — and so will I. 
 
 Ant. Oh speak : for much more hatred thou wilt get, 
 Concealing, than proclaiming it to all. 
 
 Ism. This fever at thy heart by frost .is fed. 
 
 Ant. But, whom I most should please, they most are 
 pleased. 
 
 Ism. So wouldst thou : but thou canst not as thou 
 wouldst. 90 
 
 Ant. Why, then, when strength shall fail me, I will 
 cease. 
 
 Ism. Not to attempt the impossible is best. - 
 
 Ant. Hated by me, and hated by the dead — 
 To him a hateful presence evermore — 
 Thou shouldst be, and thou shalt be, speaking thus. 
 But leave me, and the folly that is mine, 
 This worst to suffer — not the worst — since still 
 
ANTIGONE. 145 
 
 A worse remains, no noble death to die. 
 
 Ism. Go if thou wilt : but going know thyself 
 Senseless, yet to thy friends a friend indeed. 99 
 
 Chor. Lo, the sun upspringing ! \Strophe 1. 
 
 Fairest light we hail thee 
 Of all dawns that on Thebes the seven-gated 
 Ever broke ! Eye of golden day ! 
 Over Dirce's fount appearing, 
 Hence the Argive host jwhite- shielded, 
 That in complete arms came hither, 
 Headlong homeward thou didst urge 
 Faster still with shaken rein. 
 
 At call of Polyneices, stirred no 
 
 By bitter heat of wrangling claims, 
 Against our land they gathered, and they swooped 
 Down on us — like an eagle, screaming hoarse, 
 White-clad, with wings of snow — 
 With shields a many and with waving crests. 
 But above our dwellings, \Antistrophe 1. 
 
 With his spears that thirsted 
 For our blood, at each gate's mouth of the seven 
 Gaping round, paused the foe — and went, 
 Ere his jaws with blood were sated, 120 
 
 Or our circling towers the torch-flame 
 Caught and kindled : so behind him 
 Ra^ed intense the battle-din — 
 
 While for life the Serpent fought, 
 κ 
 
i 4 6 ANTIGONE. 
 
 For Zeus the tongue of vaunting pride 
 
 Hates with exceeding hate ; he marked 
 
 That torrent army's onward flood, superb 
 
 With clank of gold, and with his brandished fire 130 
 
 Smote down who foremost climbed 
 
 To shout his triumph on our ramparts' heights. 
 
 Hurled from that height with swift reverse, [Strophe 2. 
 
 The unpitying earth received him as he fell, 
 
 And quenched the brand he fain had flung, 
 
 And quelled the mad endeavour, 
 
 The frantic storm-gusts of his windy hate. 
 
 So fared it then with him ; 
 
 Nor less elsewhere great Ares dealt 
 
 Against the foemen thunderous blows — 
 
 Our trace-horse on the right. i 4 o 
 
 For seven chieftains at our seven gates 
 
 Met each his equal foe : and Zeus, 
 
 Who foiled their onset, claims from all his due, 
 
 The brazen arms, which on the field they left : 
 
 Save that infuriate pair, 
 
 Who, from one father and one mother sprung, 
 
 Against each other laid in rest 
 
 Their spears, victorious both, 
 
 And each by other share one equal death. 
 
 But now of Victory be glad : \Antist raphe 2. 
 
 She meets our gladness with an answering smile, 
 
 And Thebes, the many-charioted, 
 
ANTIGONE. 147 
 
 Hears far resound her praises : 
 
 Now then with war have done, and strife forget ! 150 
 
 All temples of the gods 
 
 Fill we with song and night-long dance ; 
 
 And, Theban Bacchus, this our mirth 
 
 Lead thou, and shake the earth ! 
 
 But lo the ruler of this Theban land, 
 
 Son of Menoeceus, Creon comes, 
 
 Crowned by these new and strange events, he comes — 
 
 By will of heav'n our new-created king, 
 
 What counsel pondering ? 
 
 Who by his sovereign will hath now convoked, 160 
 
 In solemn conference to meet, 
 
 The elders of the state ; 
 
 Obedient to whose summons, we are here. 
 
 Cre. Sirs, it hath pleased the gods to right again 
 Our Theban fortunes, by sore tempest tossed : 
 And by my messenger I summoned hither 
 You out of all the state ; first, as I knew you 
 To the might o' the throne of Lai'us loyal ever : 
 Also, when Oedipus upheld the state, 
 And when he perished, to their children still 
 Ye with a constant mind were faithful found : 
 Now they are gone : both on one fatal field 170 
 
 An equal guilt atoned with equal doom, 
 Slayers of each other, by each other slain : 
 And I am left, the nearest to their blood, 
 
148 ANTIGONE. 
 
 To wield alone the sceptre and the realm. 
 
 There is no way to know of any man 
 
 The spirit and the wisdom and the will, 
 
 Till he stands proved, ruler and lawgiver. 
 
 For who, with a whole city to direct, 
 
 Yet cleaves not to those counsels that are best, 
 
 But locks his lips in silence, being afraid, 180 
 
 I held and hold him ever of men most base : 
 
 And whoso greater than his country's cause 
 
 Esteems a friend, I count him nothing worth. 
 
 For, Zeus who seeth all be witness now, 
 
 Nor for the safety's sake would I keep silence, 
 
 And see the ruin on my country fall, 
 
 Nor would I deem an enemy to the state 
 
 Friend to myself; remembering still that she, 
 
 She only brings us safe ; her deck we pace, 
 
 Unfoundered 'mid the storm, our friends and we. 190 
 
 So for the good of Thebes her laws I'll frame : 
 
 And such the proclamation I set forth, 
 
 Touching the sons of Oedipus, ev'n now — 
 
 Eteocles, who fighting for this land 
 
 In battle has fall'n, more valiant none than he, 
 
 To bury, and no funeral rite omit, 
 
 To brave men paid — their solace in the grave : 
 
 Not so his brother, Polyneices : he, 
 
 From exile back returning, utterly 
 
 With fire his country and his fathers' gods 200 
 
ANTIGONE. 149 
 
 Would fain have burnt, fain would with kinsmen's blood 
 
 Have slaked his thirst, or dragged us captive hence : 
 
 Therefore to all this city it is proclaimed 
 
 That none may bury, none make moan for him, 
 
 But leave him lying all ghastly where he fell, 
 
 Till fowls o' the air and dogs have picked his bones. 
 
 So am I purposed : not at least by me 
 
 Shall traitors be preferred to honest men : 
 
 But, whoso loves this city, him indeed 
 
 I shall not cease to honour, alive or dead. 210 
 
 Chor. Creon, son of Menoeceus, 'tis thy pleasure 
 The friend and foe of Thebes so to requite : 
 And, whatso pleases thee, that same is law, 
 Both for our Theban dead and us who live. 
 
 Cre. Look to it, then, my bidding is performed. 
 
 Chor. Upon some younger man impose this burden. 
 
 Cre. To watch the body, sentinels are set, 
 
 Chor. What service more then wouldst thou lay on 
 us? 
 
 Cre. That ye resist whoever disobeys. 
 
 Choi: Who is so senseless that desires to die ? 220 
 
 Cre. The penalty is death : yet hopes deceive, 
 And men wax foolish oft through greed of gain. 
 
 Sent. That I come hither, king, nimble of foot, 
 And breathless with my haste, I'll not profess : 
 For many a doubtful halt upon the way, 
 And many a wheel to the right-about, I had, 
 
150 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Oft as my prating heart gave counsel, ' Fool, 
 
 What ails thee going into the lion's mouth ? ' 
 
 Then, ' Blockhead, wilt thou tarry ? if Creon learns 
 
 This from another man, shalt thou not smart ? ' 230 
 
 So doubtfully I fared — much haste, scant speed — 
 
 And, if the way was short, 'twas long to me. 
 
 But to come hither to thee prevailed at last, 
 
 And, though the speech be nought, yet I will speak. 
 
 For I have come fast clutching at the hope 
 
 That nought's to suffer but what fate decrees. 
 
 Cre. What is it that hath troubled thus thy mind ? 
 
 Sent. First for myself this let me say : the deed 
 I neither did, nor saw who was the doer, 
 And 'twere not just that I should suffer harm. 240 
 
 Cre. Wisely, thyself in covert, at the mark 
 Thou aimest : some shrewd news, methinks, thou'lt tell. 
 
 Sent. Danger to face, well may a man be cautious. 
 
 Cre. Speak then, and go thy way, and make an end. 
 
 Sent. Now I will speak. Some one ev'n now hath 
 buried 
 The body and is gone ; with thirsty dust 
 Sprinkling it o'er, and paying observance due. 
 
 Cre. How ? By what man was dared a deed so rash ? 
 
 Sent. I cannot tell. No mattock's stroke indeed, 
 Nor spade's upcast was there : hard was the ground, 250 
 Baked dry, unbroken : track of chariot-wheels 
 Was none, nor any sign who did this thing. 
 
ANTIGONE. 15; 
 
 But he who kept the watch at earliest dawn 
 
 Showed to us all — a mystery, hard to clear. 
 
 Not buried was the dead man, but concealed, 
 
 With dust besprinkled, as for fear of sin : 
 
 And neither of dog, nor any beast of prey, 
 
 That came, that tore the body, found we trace. 
 
 Then bitter words we bandied to and fro, 
 
 Denouncing each the other ; and soon to blows 260 
 
 Our strife had grown — was none would keep the peace — 
 
 For every one was guilty of the deed, 
 
 And none confessed, but all denied they knew. 
 
 And we were fain to handle red-hot iron, 
 
 Or walk through fire barefoot, or swear by heaven, 
 
 That neither had we done it, nor had shared 
 
 His secret with who planned it or who wrought. 
 
 So all in vain we questioned : and at last 
 
 One spake, and all who heard him, bowed by fear, 
 
 Bent to the earth their faces, knowing not 270 
 
 How to gainsay, nor doing what he said 
 
 How we might 'scape mischance. This deed to thee 
 
 He urged that we should show, and hide it not. 
 
 And his advice prevailed ; and by the lot 
 
 To luckless me this privilege befell. 
 
 Unwilling and unwelcome is my errand, 
 
 A bearer of ill news, whom no man loves. 
 
 Chor. Ο king, my thought hath counselled me long 
 since, 
 
152 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Haply this deed is ordered by the gods. 279 
 
 Cre. Cease, ere my wrath is kindled at thy speech, 
 Lest thou be found an old man and a fool. 
 Intolerably thou pratest of the gods, 
 That they to yonder dead man have respect. 
 Yea, for what service with exceeding honour 
 Sought they his burial, who came here to burn 
 Their pillared shrines and temple-offerings, 
 And of their land and of their laws make havoc ? 
 Or seest thou that the gods allow the wicked ? 
 Not so : but some impatient of my will 
 Among my people made a murmuring, 290 
 
 Shaking their heads in secret, to the yoke 
 With stubborn necks unbent, and hearts disloyal. 
 Full certainly I know that they with bribes 
 Have on these men prevailed to do this deed. 
 Of all the evils current in this world 
 Most mischievous is gold. This hath laid waste 
 Fair cities, and unpeopled homes of men : 
 Many an honest heart hath the false lure 
 Of gold seduced to walk in ways of shame ; 
 And hence mankind are versed in villanies, 300 
 
 And of all godless acts have learnt the lore. 
 But, who took hire to execute this work, 
 Wrought to their own undoing at the last. 
 Since, if the dread of Zeus I still revere, 
 Be well assured — and what I speak I swear — 
 
ANTIGONE. 153 
 
 Unless the author of this burial 
 
 Ye find, and in my sight produce him here, 
 
 For you mere death shall not suffice, until 
 
 Gibbeted alive this outrage ye disclose, 
 
 That ye may know what gains are worth the winning, 310 
 
 And henceforth clutch the wiselier, having learnt 
 
 That to seek gain in all things is not well. 
 
 For from ill-gotten pelf the lives of men 
 
 Ruined than saved more often shall ye see. 
 
 Sent. May I speak a word, or thus am I dismissed ? 
 
 Cre. Know'st thou not that ev'n now thy voice offends ? 
 
 Sent. Do I afflict thy hearing or thy heart ? 
 
 Cre. Where I am pained, it skills not to define. 
 
 Sent. The doer grieves thy mind, but I thine ears. 
 
 Cre. That thou wast born to chatter, 'tis too plain. 320 
 
 Sent. And therefore not the doer of this deed. 
 
 Cre. At thy life's cost thou didst it, bought with gold. 
 
 Sent. Alas ! 
 Tis pity, men should judge, yet judge amiss. 
 
 Cre. Talk you of 'judging' glibly as you may — 
 Who did this deed, I'll know, or ye shall own 
 That all your wondrous winnings end in loss. 
 
 Sent. With all my heart I wish he may be found : 
 But found or no — for that's as fortune will — 
 I shall not show my face to you again. 
 Great cause I have to thank the gracious gods, 330 
 
 Saved past all hope and reckoning even now. 
 
154 ANTIGONE. 
 
 
 Chor. Many are the wonders of the world, [Strophe ι , 
 
 And none so wonderful as Man. 
 
 Over the waters wan 
 
 His storm-vext bark he steers, 
 
 While the fierce billows break 
 
 Round his path, and o'er his head : 
 
 And the Earth-mother, first of gods, 
 
 The ageless, the indomitable, 
 
 With his ploughing to and fro 34° 
 
 He wearieth, year by year : 
 
 In the deep furrow toil the patient mules. 
 
 The birds o' the air he snares and takes, \Antistrophe i. 
 
 All the light-hearted fluttering race : 
 
 And tribes of savage beasts, 
 
 And creatures of the deep, 
 
 Meshed in his woven toils, 
 
 Own the master-mind of man. 
 
 Free lives of upland and of wild 
 
 By human arts are curbed and tamed : 
 
 See the horse's shaggy neck 35 o 
 
 Submissive to the yoke — 
 
 And strength untired of mountain-roaming bulls. 
 
 Language withal he learnt, [Strophe 2. 
 
 And Thought that as the wind is free, 
 
 And aptitudes of civic life : 
 
 Ill-lodged no more he lies, 
 
 His roof the sky, the earth his bed, 
 
ANTIGONE. 155 
 
 Screened now from piercing frost and pelting rain ; 
 
 All-fertile in resource, resourceless never 
 
 Meets he the morrow ; only death 360 
 
 He wants the skill to shun : 
 
 But many a fell disease the healer's art hath foiled. 
 
 So soaring far past hope, [Antistrophe 2. 
 
 The wise inventiveness of man 
 
 Finds diverse issues, good and ill: 
 
 If from their course he wrests 
 
 The firm foundations of the state, 
 
 Laws, and the justice he is sworn to keep, 
 
 High in the city, citiless I deem him, 37 o 
 
 Dealing with baseness : overbold, 
 
 May he my hearth avoid, 
 
 Nor let my thoughts with his, who does such deeds, agree ! 
 
 What strange portentous sight is this, 
 
 I doubt my eyes, beholding ? This — 
 
 How shall I gainsay what I know ? — 
 
 This maiden is — Antigone ! 
 
 Daughter of Oedipus, 
 
 Hapless child of a hapless sire, 380 
 
 What hast thou done ? It cannot be 
 
 That thou hast transgressed the king's command — 
 
 That, taken in folly, thee they bring ! 
 
 Sent. This same is she that did the burial : 
 We caught her in the act. But where's the king ? 
 
 Chor. Back from the palace in good time he comes. 
 
156 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Cre. What chance is this, to which my steps are 
 timed ? 
 
 Sent. Nothing, sir king, should men swear not to do ; 
 For second thoughts to first thoughts give the lie. 
 Hither, I made full sure, I scarce should come 390 
 
 Back, by your threats beruffled as I was. 
 Yet here, surprised by most unlooked-for joy, 
 That trifles all delights that e'er I knew, 
 I bring you — though my coming breaks my oath — 
 This maiden, whom, busied about the corpse, 
 We captured. This time were no lots to throw : 
 My own good fortune this, and none but mine. 
 Now therefore, king, take her yourself and try her, 
 And question as you will : but I have earned 
 Full clearance and acquittal of this coil. 400 
 
 Cre. Where, on what manner, was your captive taken ? 
 
 Sent. Burying the man, we took her : all is told. 
 
 Cre. Art thou advised of this ? Is it the truth ? 
 
 Sent. I say I saw her burying the body, 
 That you forbade. Is that distinct and clear? 
 
 Cre. How was she seen, and taken in the act ? 
 
 Sent. So it fell out. When I had gone from hence, 
 With thy loud threats yet sounding in my ears, 
 We swept off all the dust that hid the limbs, 
 And to the light stripped bare the clammy corpse, 410 
 And on the hill's brow sat, and faced the wind, 
 Choosing a spot clear of the body's stench. 
 
ANTIGONE. 157 
 
 Roundly we chid each other to the work ; 
 
 ' No sleeping at your post there ' was our word. 
 
 So did we keep the watch, till in mid-heaven 
 
 The sun's bright-burning orb above us hung, 
 
 With fierce noon-heat : and now a sudden blast 
 
 Swept, and a storm of dust, that vexed the sky 
 
 And choked the plain, and all the leaves o' the trees 419 
 
 O' the plain were marred, and the wide heaven it filled: 
 
 We with shut eyes the heaven-sent plague endured. 
 
 And, when after long time its force was spent, 
 
 We saw this maiden, and a bitter cry 
 
 She poured, as of a wailing bird that sees 
 
 Her empty nest dismantled of its brood : 
 
 So she, when she espied the body bare, 
 
 Cried out and wept, and many a grievous curse 
 
 Upon their heads invoked by whom 'twas done. 
 
 And thirsty dust she sprinkled with her hands, 
 
 And lifted up an urn, fair-wrought of brass, 430 
 
 And with thrice-poured libations crowned the dead. 
 
 We saw it and we hasted, and at once, 
 
 All undismayed, our captive, hemmed her round, 
 
 And with the two offences charged her there, 
 
 Both first and last. Nothing did she deny, 
 
 But made me glad and sorry, owning all. 
 
 For to have slipped one's own neck from the noose 
 
 Is sweet, yet no one likes to get his friends 
 
 In trouble : but my nature is to make 
 
: 5 8 ANTIGONE. 
 
 All else of small account, so I am safe. 440 
 
 Cre. Speak thou, who bendest on the earth thy gaze, 
 Are these things, which are witnessed, true or false ? 
 Ant. Not false, but true : that which he saw, he 
 
 speaks. 
 Cre. So, sirrah, thou art free ; go where thou wilt, 
 Loosed from the burden of this heavy charge. 
 But tell me thou — and let thy speech be brief — 
 The edict hadst thou heard, which this forbade ? 
 
 Ant. I could not choose but hear what all men heard. 
 Cre. And didst thou dare to disobey the law ? 449 
 
 Ant. Nowise from Zeus, methought, this edict came, 
 Nor Justice, that abides among the gods 
 In Hades, who ordained these laws for men. 
 Nor did I deem thine edicts of such force 
 That they, a mortal's bidding, should o'erride 
 Unwritten laws, eternal in the heavens. 
 ■Not of to-day or yesterday are these, 
 J But live from everlasting, and from whence 
 They sprang, none knoweth. I would not, for the 
 
 breach 
 Of these, through fear of any human pride, 
 To heaven atone. I knew that I must die : 460 
 
 How else ? Without thine edicts that were so. 
 And if before my time, why^this were gain. 
 Compassed about with ills,^who lives, as I, 
 Death, to such life as his, must needs be gain. 
 
ANTIGONE. 159 
 
 So is it to me to undergo this doom 
 
 No grief at all : but had I left my brother, 
 
 My mother's child, unburied where he lay, 
 
 Then I had grieved ; but now this grieves me not. 
 
 Senseless I seem to thee, so doing? Belike 
 
 A senseless judgment finds me void of sense. 470 
 
 Chor. How in the child the sternness of the sire 
 Shows stern, before the storm untaught to bend ! 
 
 Cre. Yet know full well that such o'er-stubborn wills 
 Are broken most of all, as sturdiest steel, 
 Of an untempered hardness, fresh from forge, 
 Most surely snapped and shivered should ye see. 
 Lo how a little curb has strength enough 
 To tame the restive horse : for to a slave 
 His masters give no licence to be proud. 
 Insult on insult heaped ! \ 'tVas't not enough 480 
 
 My promulgated laws to have transgressed, 
 But, having done it, face to face with me 
 She boasts of this and glories in the deed ? 
 . I surely am the woman, she the man, 
 If she defies my power, and I submit. 
 Be she my sister's child, or sprung from one 
 More near of blood than all my house to me, 
 Not so shall they escape my direst doom — 
 She and her sister : for I count her too 
 Guilty no less of having planned this work. 490 
 
 Go, call her hither : in the house I saw her 
 
1 6o ANTIGONE. 
 
 Raving ev'n now, nor mistress of her thoughts. 
 So oft the mind, revolving secret crime, 
 Makes premature disclosure of its guilt. 
 But this is hateful, when the guilty one, 
 Detected, thinks to glorify his fault. 
 
 Ant. To kill me — wouldst thou more with me than 
 this? 
 
 Cre. This is enough : I do desire no more. 
 
 Ant. Why dost thou then delay ? I have no pleasure 
 To hear thee speak — have not and would not have : 500 
 Nor less distasteful is my speech to thee. 
 Yet how could I have won myself a praise 
 More honourable than this, of burying 
 My brother ? This from every voice should win 
 Approval, might but fear men's lips unseal. 
 But kings are fortunate — not least in this, 
 That they may do and speak what things they will. 
 
 Cre. All Thebes sees this with other eyes than thine. 
 
 Ant. They see as I, but bate their breath to thee. 509 
 
 Cre. And art thou not ashamed, from them to differ? 
 
 Ant. To reverence a brother is not shameful. 
 
 Cre. And was not he who died for Thebes thy brother? 
 
 Ant. One mother bore us, and one sire begat. 
 
 Cre. Yet, honouring both, thou dost dishonour him. 
 
 Ant. He in the grave will not subscribe to this. 
 
 Cre. How, if no less thou dost revere the guilty ? 
 
 Ant. 'Twas not his slave that perished, but his brother. 
 
ANTIGONE. 161 
 
 Cre. The enemy of this land : its champion, he. 
 
 Ant. Yet Death of due observance must not fail. 
 
 Cre. Just and unjust urge not an equal claim. 520 
 
 Ant. Perchance in Hades 'tis a holy deed. 
 
 Cre. Hatred, not ev'n in death, converts to love. 
 
 Ant. Not in your hates, but in your loves, I'd share. 
 
 Cre. Go to the shades, and, if thou'lt love, love there : 
 No woman, while I live, shall master me. 
 
 Chor. See, from the palace comes Ismene — 
 Sisterly drops from her eyes down-shedding: 
 Clouded her brows droop, heavy with sorrow ; 
 And the blood-red tinge of a burning blush 
 Covers her beautiful downcast face. 530 
 
 Cre. Thou, who hast crept, a serpent in my home, 
 Draining my blood, unseen ; and I knew not 
 Rearing two pests, to overset my throne ; 
 Speak — wilt thou too confess that in this work 
 Thou hadst a hand, or swear thou didst not know ? 
 
 Ism. I'll say the deed was mine, if she consents : 
 My share of the blame I bear, and do not shrink. 
 
 Ant. Justice forbids thy claim : neither didst thou 
 Agree, nor I admit thee to my counsels. 
 
 Ism. I am not ashamed, in thine extremity, 540 
 
 To make myself companion of thy fate. 
 
 Ant. Whose was the deed, know Hades and the dead : 
 I love not friends, who talk of friendliness. 
 
 Ism. Sister, disdain me not, but let me pour 
 
[62 ANTIGONE. 
 
 My blood with thine, an offering to the dead. 
 
 Ant. Leave me to die alone, nor claim the work 
 Thou wouldst not help. My death will be enough. 
 
 Ism. What joy have I to live, when thou art gone ? 
 
 Ant. Ask Creon that : thou art of kin to him. 549 
 
 Ism. Why wilt thou grieve me with thy needless taunts? 
 
 Ant. If I mock thee, 'tis with a heavy heart. 
 
 Ism. What may I do to serve thee even now ? 
 
 A7it. Look to thyself: I grudge thee not thy safety. 
 
 Ism. And may I not, unhappy, share thy death ? 
 
 Ant. Thou didst make choice to live, but I to die. 
 
 Ism. Might I unsay my words, this were not so. 
 
 Ant. Wise seemed we — thou to these, and I to those. 
 
 Ism. But now our fault is equal, thine and mine. 
 
 Ant. Take heart to live : for so thou dost : but I — 
 Dead is my life long since — to help the dead. 560 
 
 Cre. One of these two, methinks, proves foolish now ; 
 The other's folly with her life began. 
 
 Ism. Nay, for, Ο king, misfortunes of the wise 
 To madness turn the wisdom that they have. 
 
 Cre. 'Tis so with thee, choosing to share her guilt. 
 
 Ism. How should I live alone, without my sister ? 
 
 Cre. Call her not thine : thou hast no sister now. 
 
 Ism. But wilt thou tear her from thy son's embrace ? 
 
 Cre. Are there no women in the world but she ? 
 
 Ism. Not as their faith was plighted, each to each. 570 
 
 Cre. An evil wife I like not for my son. 
 
ANTIGONE. 163 
 
 Ant. Haemon ! beloved ! hear not thy father's scorn. 
 
 Cre. Thou and thy love to me are wearisome. 
 
 Chor. Wilt thou indeed snatch from thy son his 
 
 bride ? 
 Cre. 'Tis death that will unloose their marriage- 
 bond. 
 Chor. It seems thou art resolved that she must die ? 
 Cre. Of that we are agreed. Delay no more : 
 Ye, servants, lead them in. For from this time 
 Women they needs must be, and range no more : 
 Since ev'n the bold may play the runaway, 580 
 
 When death he sees close-creeping on his life. 
 
 Chor. Happy indeed is the life of the man who 
 tastes not of trouble ! [Strophe 1. 
 
 For when from the gods a house is shaken, 
 Fails nevermore the curse, 
 On most and on least of the race descending : 
 Like to a rolling wave, 
 
 By furious blasts from the Thraceward driven — 589 
 
 Out of the nethermost deeps, out of the fathomless gloom, 
 Casting up mire and blackness and storm-vext wrack of 
 
 the sea — 
 And back, with a moan like thunder, from the cliffs the 
 
 surf is hurled. 
 So from of old to the Labdacid race comes sorrow on 
 sorrow : \Antistrophe 1. 
 
 And, ev'n as the dead, so fare the living : 
 
1 64 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Respite from ills is none, 
 
 Nor one generation redeems another — 
 
 All will some god bring low. 
 
 Noav o'er the last root of the house, fate-stricken, 
 
 Woe for the light that had shined, woe for the lingering 
 
 hope ! 600 
 
 Smooth over all is lying the blood-stained dust they 
 
 have spread — 
 Rash speech, and a frantic purpose, and the gods who 
 
 reign below. 
 What human trespass, Zeus, [Strophe 2. 
 
 May circumscribe thy power, 
 Which neither sleep o'ercomes, 
 That saps the strength of all things else, 
 Nor months that run their tireless course, 
 But thou for ever with an ageless sway 
 The dazzling splendour dost possess 
 Of thine Olympian home ? 610 
 
 'Tis now as it hath ever been, 
 And still in years to come 
 The old order will not change : 
 Never from human life departs 
 The universal scourge of man, 
 His own presumptuous pride. 
 
 Hope wings her daring flight, [Autistrophe 2. 
 
 By strong winds borne afar — 
 And some are blessed ; and some 
 
ANTIGONE. 165 
 
 Are cheated of their vain desires, 
 
 That learn their folly all too late, 
 
 When in the fire they tread with scorched feet. 
 
 'Twas said of old — and time approves 620 
 
 The wisdom of the saw — 
 
 That, when in foolish ways, that end 
 
 In ruin, gods would lead 
 
 A mortal's mind astray, 
 
 Evil that man miscalls his good : 
 
 A brief while then he holds his course 
 
 By fatuous pride unscathed. 
 
 See, thy son Haemon comes hither, of all 
 
 Thy children the last. Comes he lamenting 
 
 The doom of the maiden, his bride Antigone — 
 
 And the frustrated hope of his marriage ? 630 
 
 Cre. Soon we shall know, better than seers could say. 
 My son, in anger art thou come to me, 
 Hearing the sentence, not to be reversed, 
 Which on thy destined bride I have pronounced ? 
 Or am I still thy friend, do what I may ? 
 
 Haem. Father, I am in thy hand : with thy wise 
 counsels 
 Thou dost direct me ; these I shall obey. 
 Not rightly should I deem of more account 
 The winning of a wife than thy good guidance. 
 
 Cre. Be this thy dearest wish and next thy heart, 
 In all things to uphold thy father's will. 6 4 o 
 
1 66 ANTIGONE. 
 
 For to this end men crave to see grow up 
 
 Obedient children round them in their homes, 
 
 Both to requite their enemies with hate, 
 
 And render equal honour to their friends. 
 
 Whoso begets unprofitable children, 
 
 What shall be said of him, but that he gets 
 
 Grief for himself, loud laughter for his foes ? 
 
 Never, my son, let for a woman's sake 
 
 Reason give way to sense, but know full well 
 
 Cold is the pleasure that he clasps, who woos 6 5 o 
 
 An evil woman to his board and bed. 
 
 What wounds so deeply as an evil friend ? 
 
 Count then this maiden as thine enemy, 
 
 Loathe her, and give her leave, in that dark world 
 
 To which she goes, to marry with another. 
 
 For out of all the city since I found 
 
 Her only, and her openly, rebellious, 
 
 I shall not to the city break my word, 
 
 But she shall die. Let her appeal to Zeus, 
 
 And sing the sanctity of kindred blood — 
 
 What then ? If in my own house I shall nurse 
 
 Rebellion, how shall strangers not rebel ? 660 
 
 He who to his own kith and kin does right, 
 
 Will in the state deal righteously with all. 
 
 Of such a man I shall not fear to boast, 
 
 Well he can rule, and well he would obey, 
 
 And in the storm of battle at his post 
 
ANTIGONE. 167 
 
 Firm he would stand, a comrade staunch and true. 
 
 But praise from me that man shall never have, 
 
 Who either boldly thrusts aside the law 
 
 Or takes upon him to instruct his rulers, 
 
 Whom, by the state empowered, he should obey, 670 
 
 In little and in much, in right and wrong. 
 
 The worst of evils is to disobey. 
 
 Cities by this are ruined, homes of men 
 
 Made desolate by this ; this in the battle 
 
 Breaks into headlong rout the wavering line ; 
 
 The steadfast ranks, the many lives unhurt, 
 
 Are to obedience due. We must defend 
 
 The government and order of the state, 
 
 And not be governed by a wilful girl. 
 
 We'll yield our place up, if we must, to men ; 
 
 To women that we stooped, shall not be said. 680 
 
 Chor. Unless an old man's judgment is at fault, 
 These words of thine, we deem, are words of wisdom. 
 
 Haem. Reason, my father, in the mind of man, 
 Noblest of all their gifts, the gods implant, 
 And how to find thy reasoning at fault, 
 I know not, and to learn I should be loth ; 
 Yet for another it might not be amiss. 
 But I for thee am vigilant to mark 
 All that men say, or do, or find to blame. 
 Thy presence awes the simple citizen 690 
 
 From speaking words that shall not please thine ear, 
 
1 68 ANTIGONE. 
 
 But I hear what they whisper in the dark, 
 
 And how the city for this maid laments, 
 
 That of all women she the least deserving 
 
 Dies for most glorious deeds a death most cruel, 
 
 Who her own brother, fall'n among the slain, 
 
 Left not unburied there, to be devoured 
 
 By ravening dogs or any bird o' the air : — 
 
 ' Should not her deed be blazoned all in gold ? ' 
 
 Upon the darkness still such whisper grows. 700 
 
 But I of all possessions that I have 
 
 Prize most, my father, thy prosperity. 
 
 Welldoing and fair fame of sire to son, 
 
 Of son to sire, is noblest ornament. 
 
 Cleave not, I pray thee, to this constant mind, 
 
 That what thou sayest, and nought beside, is truth. 
 
 For men who think that only they are wise, 
 
 None eloquent, right-minded none, but they, 
 
 Often, when searched, prove empty. 'Tis no shame, 
 
 Ev'n if a man be wise, that he should yet 710 
 
 Learn many things, and not hold out too stiffly. 
 
 Beside the torrent's course, of trees that bend 
 
 Each bough, thou seest, and every twig is safe ; 
 
 Those that resist are by the roots uptorn. 
 
 And ships, that brace with stubborn hardihood 
 
 Their mainsheet to the gale, pursue their voyage 
 
 Keel-uppermost, their sailors' thwarts reversed. 
 
 Cease from thy wrath ; be not inexorable : 
 
ANTIGONE. 169 
 
 For if despite my youth I too may think 
 
 My thought, I'll say that best it is by far 720 
 
 That men should be all-knowing if they may, 
 
 But if — as oft the scale inclines not so — 
 
 Why then, by good advice 'tis good to learn. 
 
 Chor. What in thy son's speech, king, is seasonable 
 Tis fit thou shouldst receive : and thou in his : 
 For there is reason in the words of both. 
 
 Cre. Shall I, grown grey with age, be taught indeed — 
 And by this boy — to think what he thinks right ? 
 
 Haem. Nothing that is not right : though I am young, 
 Consider not my years, but how I act. 
 
 Cre. Is this thine act — to honour the unruly ? 730 
 
 Haem. Wrongdoers, dishonour — outrage, if thou wilt ! 
 
 Cre. Hath not this maiden caught this malady ?* 
 
 Haem. The general voice of Thebes says no to that. 
 
 Cre. Shall Thebes prescribe to me how I must 
 govern ? 
 
 Haem. How all too young art thou in speaking thus ! 
 
 Cre. Whose business is't but mine how Thebes is 
 governed ? 
 
 Hae??i. A city is none, that to one man belongs. 
 
 Cre. Is it not held, the city is the king's ? 
 
 Haem. Finely thou'dst rule, alone, a land dispeopled ! 739 
 
 Cre. It seems this boy will plead the woman's cause. 
 
 Hae?n. Woman art thou ? my care is all for thee. 
 
 Cre. Shameless — is't right to wrangle with thy father? 
 
170 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Haem. I see that wrong for right thou dost mistake. 
 
 Cre. Do I mistake, to reverence my office ? 
 
 Haem. What reverence, heaven's honours to contemn? 
 
 Cre. Ο hateful spirit, ruled by a woman's will ! 
 
 Haem. To no base service shalt thou prove me bound. 
 
 Cre. Art thou not pleading all the time for her ? 
 
 Hae?n. For thee and me, and for the gods below. 
 
 Cre. Thou shalt not marry her, this side the grave. 750 
 
 Hae?n. If she must die, she shall : but not alone. 
 
 Cre. Art grown so bold, thou dost fly out in threats ? 
 
 Haem. What threats, to argue with a foolish purpose ? 
 
 Cre. Thou'lt rue — unwise — thy wisdom spent on me. 
 
 Haem. Thou art my father; or wise I scarce had 
 called thee. 
 
 Cre. Slave — to thy mistress babble, not to me. 
 
 Haem. Wouldst thou have all the talking for thine 
 own ? 
 
 Cre. Is't come to this ? But, by Olympus yonder, 
 Know well, thou shalt be sorry for these taunts, 
 Wherewith thou dost upbraid me. Slaves, what ho ! 
 Bring that abhorrence hither, that she may die, 760 
 
 Now, in her bridegroom's sight, whilst here he stands. 
 
 Haem. Neither in my sight — imagine no such thing — 
 Shall she be slain ; nor shalt thou from this hour 
 Look with thine eyes upon my face again : 
 To friends who love thy madness I commit thee. 
 
 Chor. Suddenly, sire, in anger he is gone : 
 
ANTIGONE., 171 
 
 Young minds grow desperate, by grief distemper'd. 
 
 Cre. More than a man let him conceive and do ; 
 He shall not save these maidens from their doom. 
 
 Chor. Both sisters art thou purposed to destroy? 770 
 
 Cre. Not her whose hands sinned not ; thou askest 
 well. 
 
 Chor. What of the* other ? how shall she be slain ? 
 
 Cre. By paths untrodden of men I will conduct her, 
 And shut her, living, in a vault, rock-hewn, 
 And there, with food, no more than shall suffice 
 To avert the guilt of murder from the city, 
 To Hades, the one god whom she reveres, 
 She, praying not to die, either shall have 
 Her asking, or shall learn, albeit too late, 
 That to revere the dead is fruitless toil. 78° 
 
 Chor. Ο Love, our conqueror, matchless in 
 might, [Strophe. 
 
 Thou prevailest, Ο Love, thou dividest the prey : 
 In damask cheeks of a maiden 
 Thy watch through the night is set. 
 Thou roamest over the sea ; 
 On the hills, in the shepherds' huts, thou art ; 
 Nor of deathless gods, nor of short-lived men, 
 From thy madness any escapeth. 790 
 
 Unjust, through thee, are the thoughts of the 
 just, \_Antistrophe. 
 
 Thou dost bend them, Ο Love, to thy will, to thy spite. 
 
172 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Unkindly strife thou hast kindled, 
 
 This wrangling of son with sire. 
 
 For great laws, throned in the heart, 
 
 To the sway of a rival power give place, 
 
 To the love-light flashed from a fair bride's eyes : 
 
 In her triumph laughs Aphrodite. 800 
 
 Me, even now, me also, 
 
 Seeing these things, a sudden pity 
 
 Beyond all governance transports : 
 
 The fountains of my tears 
 
 I can refrain no more, 
 
 Seeing Antigone here to the bridal chamber 
 
 Come, to the all-receiving chamber of Death. 
 
 Ant. Friends and my countrymen, ye see me 
 Upon the last of all my ways 
 Set forth, the Sun-god's latest light 
 Beholding, now and never more : 
 But Death, who giveth sleep to all, 810 
 
 Yet living leads me hence 
 To the Acherontian shore, 
 Of marriage rites amerced, 
 And me no bridal song hath ever sung, 
 But Acheron will make of me his bride. 
 
 Clior. Therefore renowned, with praise of men, 
 To yonder vault o' the dead thou goest, 
 By no slow-wasting sickness stricken, 
 Nor doomed to fall with those who win 
 
ANTIGONE. 1 73 
 
 The wages of the swords they drew, 820 
 
 But, being to thyself a law, 
 
 Alone of mortals the dark road 
 
 To deathward, living, thou shalt tread. 
 
 Ant. I heard of one, most piteous in her ending, 
 That stranger, child of Phrygian Tantalus, 
 On heights of Sipylus enclasped, 
 And ivy-like enchained, 
 By clinging tendrils of the branching rock, 
 Who day and night unceasingly 
 'Mid drizzle of rain and drift of snow 
 Slow-wasting in her place 
 
 Stands, as the tale is told, s 3 o 
 
 Her lids surcharged with weeping, and her neck 
 And bosom drenched with falling of her tears : — 
 A fate most like to hers 
 Seals up with sleep these eyes of mine. 
 
 Chor. She was a goddess, sprung from gods : 
 Mortals, of mortal birth, are we. 
 But for one dead to win with those 
 Who rank no lower than the gods — 
 In life and afterwards in death — 
 An equal lot, were much to hear. 
 
 Ant. Ah, I am mocked ! Nay, by our fathers' gods, 
 Withhold thy taunts till I am gone — s 4 o 
 
 Gone and evanished from thy sight. 
 Ο Thebes, my city ! 
 
174 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Ο wealthy men of Thebes ! 
 
 But ye will witness — yes, to you I turn — 
 
 Ο fount Dircaean, and this sacred grove 
 
 Of Thebe the fair-charioted, 
 
 By what stern law, and how of friends unwept, 
 
 To that strange grave I go, 
 
 The massy dungeon for my burial heaped. 
 
 Ο luckless wight, s 5 o 
 
 Exiled from earth nor housed below, 
 
 Both by the living and the dead disowned ! 
 
 Chor. To furthest brink of boldness thou didst stray, 
 And stumbling there, at foot of Justice' throne, 
 Full heavily, my daughter, hast thou fallen : 
 Yet of thy father's fault belike 
 This suffering pays the price. 
 
 Ant. Thou hast touched, ev'n there, my bitterest 
 pang of all, 
 A thrice-told tale, my father's grief — S60 
 
 And all our grievous doom that clung 
 About the famed Labdacidae. 
 Ο that incestuous bed 
 Of horror, and my father's sin — 
 The hapless mother who bore him to the light, 
 By him enclasped — wherefrom I luckless sprang : 
 With whom, accurst, unwedded, 
 I must go hence to dwell. 
 Ο brother, a bride ill-starred 
 
ANTIGONE. 175 
 
 Who to thy couch didst win, 870 
 
 How, being dead, me living thou hast slain ! 
 
 Chor. Religion prompts the reverent deed : 
 But power, to whomso power belongs, 
 Must nowise be transgressed; and thee'N 
 A self-willed temper hath o'erthrown. 
 
 Ant. Unwept and unfriended, 
 Cheered by no song Hymenaeal — 
 Lo, I am led, heavy-hearted, 
 This road that awaits me. 
 
 The sacred light-giving eye in heaven S80 
 
 Now no more must I see, unhappy : 
 But for my fate not a tear falls, 
 Not a friend makes moan. 
 
 Cre. Know ye not, songs and weepings before death 
 That none would pretermit, were he allowed ? 
 Hence with her, hence, and tarry not, but deep 
 In her tomb-prison, even as I have said, 
 Leave her alone, forsaken : to die, or else 
 Live, in that vault entombed, if so she will : 
 Since of this maiden's blood our hands are clean, 
 Only we ban her sojourn in the light. 890 
 
 Ant. Ο tomb ! Ο nuptial chamber ! Ο house deep- 
 delved 
 In earth, safe-guarded ever ! To thee I come, 
 And to my kin in thee, who many an one 
 Are with Persephone, dead among the dead : 
 
76 ANTIGONE. 
 
 And last of all, most miserably by far, 
 I thither am going, ere my life's term be done. 
 But a good hope I cherish, that, come there, 
 My father's love will greet me, yea and thine, 
 My mother — and thy welcome, brother dear : 
 Since, when ye died, I with mine own hands laved 900 
 And dressed your limbs, and poured upon your graves 
 Libations ; and like service done to thee 
 Hath brought me, Polyneices, now to this. 
 Yet well I honoured thee, the wise will say : 
 Since not for children's sake would I, their mother, 
 Nor for my husband, slain, and mouldering there, 
 Have travailed thus, doing despite to Thebes. 
 According to what law, do I speak this ? 
 One husband slain, another might have been, 
 And children from another, losing these ; 910 
 
 But, father and mother buried out of sight, 
 There can be born no brother any more. 
 Such was the law whereby I held thee first 
 In honour ; but to Creon all mistaken, 
 Ο dear my brother, I seemed, and overbold — 
 ) And now, made captive thus, he leads me hence 
 / No wife, no bride for ever — of marriage-joy 
 And nursery of children quite bereft : 
 So by my friends forsaken I depart, 
 Living, unhappy, to dim vaults of death. 920 
 
 'Yet I transgressed — what ordinance of heaven ? 
 
antigone. \ηη 
 
 Why to the gods, ill-fated, any more 
 Should I look up — whom call to succour — since 
 Impiety my piety is named ? 
 But, if these things are pleasing to the gods, 
 ['11 freely own I suffered for my fault ; 
 If theirs the fault, who doomed me, may to them 
 I No worse befall than they unjustly do ! 
 
 Chor. Stormily still o'er the soul of the maiden 
 The selfsame gusts of passion sweep. 930 
 
 Cre. Therefore, I warn them, ruth for their lingering, 
 To those who lead her, this shall cause. 
 
 Ant. Short shrift, swift death— ah ! woe is me — 
 This speech portends. 
 
 Cre. Lay to thy soul no flattering hope, 
 That unfulfilled this doom may be. 
 
 Ant. Ο country of Thebes and my father's city, 
 And gods my progenitors, 
 Lo, how they lead me — now, and delay not. ' 
 Ο all ye princes of Thebes, behold me — 940 
 
 Of the race of your kings, me, sole surviving — 
 What things at the hands of what men I suffer, 
 For the fear of the gods I feared. 
 
 Chor. Out of the sunlight so, [Strophe 1. 
 
 In brass-bound prison-courts, 
 Were pent the limbs of Danae, 
 And in a living tomb sealed up from sight ; 
 Albeit, Ο daughter, she as thou 
 
 Μ 
 
78 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Came of a noble line, 
 
 And that life-quickening treasure of his golden rain 950 
 
 She had in charge from Zeus to keep. 
 
 Ο dread mysterious power of fate, 
 
 That neither wealth nor war can quell, 
 
 Nor walls shut out, nor ships escape, 
 
 Dark-fleeing o'er the foam ! 
 
 And that Edonian king \Antistrophe 1. 
 
 Was bound, the choleric son 
 
 Of Dryas, splenetive and hot, 
 
 Fast in the rock by Dionysus chained. 
 
 Such fierce and fevered issue streams 
 
 From madness at the height. 959 
 
 With splenetive rash speech what madness had assailed 
 
 The vengeful god, too late he learned. 
 
 To women-worshippers inspired 
 
 Their torchlit revels he forbade, 
 
 And flutings that the Muses loved 
 
 Had silenced with his scorn. 
 
 From the dark rock-portals of the divided sea \Strophe 2. 
 
 Here go the cliffs of Bosporus, and there 
 
 The savage Thracian coast 
 
 Of Salmydessus, where the neighbour-worshipped God 
 
 Of Battle saw the blinding blow accurst, 970 
 
 Dealt by that fierce stepdame, 
 
 Darkling descend on both the sons 
 
 Of Phineus — on their sightless orbs 
 
ANTIGONE. 1 79 
 
 That plead for vengeance, stricken through and stabbed 
 By the sharp shuttle in her murderous hands. 
 Wasted with their sorrow, their mother's hapless fate 
 
 \Anti strophe 2. 
 They hapless wept, and in their mother's shame 
 Had part, as those base-born : 980 
 
 Yet she from the old Erechtheid blood her birth derived, 
 And in deep caverns of the hills was nursed, 
 Amid her father's storms, 
 Child of the North-wind — up the steep 
 Hillsides no bounding foal so fleet, 
 A daughter of the gods : but her, Ο child, 
 Fate's everlasting hands availed to reach. 
 
 Teir. Princes of Thebes, we come — one sight for both 
 Our common road descrying, as behoves 
 Blind men to find their way by help of others. 990 
 
 Cre. What tidings, old Teiresias, dost thou bring ? 
 
 Teir. Hear then the prophet, and attend his speech. 
 
 Cre. Have I aforetime from thy wisdom swerved? 
 
 Teir. So, clear of shoals, thou pilotest the state. 
 
 Cre. The service thou hast rendered I attest. 
 
 Teir. Once more on razor's edge thy fortunes stand. 
 
 Cre. Hearing thy speech, I shudder : tell me more. 
 
 Teir. My art's prognostications hear and judge. 
 For in my ancient seat, to watch the birds 
 In that their general gathering-place, I sat, 1000 
 
 And heard an unintelligible noise, 
 
1 8o ANTIGONE. 
 
 A cry and clangour of birds, confused with rage ; 
 
 And what fierce fray they waged with murderous claws, 
 
 I guessed too surely by the whirr of wings. 
 
 Scared by that sound, burnt-offerings I then 
 
 Essayed on blazing altars ; but no flame 
 
 Leapt from the sacrifice ; a clammy ooze 
 
 Reeked from the thighs, and 'mid the ashes dripped, 
 
 Smoking and sputtering ; the gall disparted, 
 
 And on the air was spent ; and the thigh-bones ιοί 
 
 Of the enfolding fat fell stripped and bare. 
 
 This from this boy I heard, whose eyes beheld 
 
 The failing signs of sacrifice obscure : 
 
 Others by me are guided, I by him. 
 
 And by thy will we are afflicted thus. 
 
 For now our hearths and altars every one 
 
 Have ravening dogs and birds fouled with the flesh 
 
 Of this poor fallen son of Oedipus ; 
 
 And so no flame of victims burnt may move 
 
 Gods any more to hearken to our prayers, 1021 
 
 And birds obscene flap forth a bodeful cry, 
 
 With fat of human carrion newly gorged. 
 
 Slight not, my son, such warning. For all men, 
 
 Both great and small, are liable to err : 
 
 But he who errs no more unfortunate 
 
 Or all unwise shall be, if having tripped 
 
 He rights the wrong nor stubbornly persists. 
 
 He who persists in folly is the fool. 
 
ANTIGONE. 181 
 
 Give death his due : stab not the fallen foe : 
 
 What valour is in this, to slay the slain ? 1030 
 
 Wisely I speak and well; and sweet it is 
 
 To hear good counsel, when it counsels gain. 
 
 Cre. Old man, ye all, as bowmen at a mark, 
 Shoot at this man, and with your prophecies 
 Ye practise on me too, and mine own kin 
 Mere merchandise and salework make of me. 
 Go to, get gain, and barter, if ye will, 
 Amber ye buy from Sardis, and fine gold 
 Of Ind : but him, I say, ye shall not bury : 
 No, not if eagles, ministers of Zeus, 1040 
 
 Should bear him piecemeal to their Master's throne, 
 Will I, for fear of such pollution, grant 
 Leave for his burial ; knowing well that men 
 Soil not the stainless majesty of heaven. 
 But, aged seer, the wisest of mankind 
 Dishonourably may fall, who fairly speak 
 Dishonourable words, and all for gain. 
 
 Teir. Alas ! 
 Who knows, or who considers, in this world — 
 
 C?'e. What wilt thou say ? What commonplace is this ? 
 
 Teir. How prudence is the best of all our wealth? io 5 o 
 
 Cre. As folly, I suppose, our deadliest hurt. 
 
 Teir. Yet with this malady art thou possest. 
 
 Cre. Reproaches I'll not bandy with the prophet. 
 
 Teir. Saying that I falsely prophesy, thou dost. 
 
1 82 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Cre. So are all prophets ; 'tis a covetous race. 
 
 Teir. Greed of base gain marks still the tyrant-sort. 
 
 Cre. Knowest thou that of thy rulers this is said ? 
 
 Teir. I know; for thou through me didst save the 
 state. 
 
 Cre. Wise in thy craft art thou, but false at heart. 1059 
 
 Teir. Secrets, fast-locked, thou'lt move me to disclose. 
 
 Cre. Unlock them, only speaking not for gain. 
 
 Teir. So, for thy part indeed, methinks I shall. 
 
 Cre. Think not that in my purpose thou shalt trade. 
 
 Teir. But surely know that thou not many more 
 Revolving courses of the sun shalt pass, 
 Ere of thine ownTflWbd one, to make amends, 
 Dead for the dead, thou shalt have rendered up, 
 For that a4iving soul thou hast sent below, 
 And with dishonour in the grave hast lodged, 
 And that one dead thou holdest here cut off 1070 
 
 From presence of the gods who reign below, 
 All rites of death, all obsequies denied — 
 AVith whom thou shouldst not meddle, nor the gods 
 In heaven, but of their due thou robb'st the dead. 
 Therefore of Hades and the gods for thee 
 The Avengers wait, with ruin slow yet sure, 
 To take thee in the pit which thou hast dug. 
 Do I speak this for gold ? Thyself shalt judge : 
 For, yet a little while, and wailings loud 
 Of men and women in thy house shall show. 
 
ANTIGONE. 183 
 
 Think, of each city too what gathering rage, 1080 
 
 That sees its mangled dead entombed in maws 
 
 Of dogs and all fierce beasts, or borne by kites 
 
 With stench unhallowed to its hearth-crowned heights. 
 
 So like a bowman have I launched at thee 
 
 In wrath, for thou provok'st me, shafts indeed 
 
 To pierce thy heart, and fail not, from whose smart 
 
 Thou'lt not escape. But now, boy, lead me home, 
 
 That he may vent his spleen on younger men, 
 
 And learn to keep a tongue more temperate, 
 
 And in his breast a better mind than now. 1090 
 
 Chor. The man has prophesied dread things, Ο 
 king, 
 And gone : and never have I known — not since 
 These temples changed their raven locks to snow — 
 That aught of false this city heard from him. 
 
 Cre. Yea, this I know, and much am I perplexed : 
 For hard it is to yield, but standing firm 
 I fear to pluck swift ruin on my pride. 
 
 Chor. Son of Menoeceus, be advised in time. 
 
 Cre. Say then, what must I do ? and I'll obey. 
 
 Chor. Go, from her prison in the rock release «00 
 The maiden, and the unburied corpse inter. 
 
 Cre. Dost thou think this, and wouldst thou have me 
 yield ? 
 
 Chor. Yea, king, and quickly ; for the gods cut short 
 With sudden scathe the foolishness of men. 
 
1 84 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Cre. Hardly indeed, but yet with forced consent 
 I'll do it, stoopmgJx>-iiece~ssity. 
 
 Chor. Do it, and go ; leave not this task to others. 
 Cre. Even as I am, I'll go ; and, servants, haste, 
 That hear and hear me not : axes in hand, 
 All to yon spot, far-seen, make good your speed. mo 
 But I, since this way now my mind is bent, 
 Whom I myself have bound, myself will loose. 
 For now my heart misgives me, he lives best, 
 Whose feet depart not from the ancient ways. 
 
 Chor. Worshipped by many names — [Strophe i. 
 
 Glory of Theban Semele, 
 Child of loud-thundering Zeus — 
 
 Haunting the famed Italian fields, 
 
 Whom as a prince the hospitable vale 1120 
 
 Of the Eleusinian Dame reveres — 
 
 Bacchus, that hast thy home 
 
 In Thebes, the home of Bacchanals, 
 
 Beside Ismenus' fertile stream, 
 
 Where the fell dragon's teeth of old were sown : 
 
 O'er the two-crested peak, [Antistrophe 1. 
 
 With nymphs Corycian in thy train, 
 
 By springs of Castaly, 
 
 The streaming levin lights thy path : n 3 o 
 
 And from steep Nysa's hills, with ivy clad, 
 
 And that green slope, with clustering grapes 
 
 Empurpled to the sea, 
 
ANTIGONE. 185 
 
 When thou wouldst visit Theban streets, 
 
 A jocund company divine 
 
 With acclamation loud conducts thee forth. 
 
 Thebes of all cities most thou honourest, [Strophe 2. 
 
 Thou with thy mother, whom the lightning slew: 
 
 And now, when Thebes is sick, "40 
 
 And all her people the sore plague hath stricken, 
 
 Hear us and come with healing feet 
 
 O'er the Parnassian hill, 
 
 Or the resounding strait : 
 
 Come, whom fire-breathing stars in dance obey, [Ant. 2. 
 
 The master of the voices of the night, 
 
 Of Zeus the puissant son — 
 
 Come at our call, girt with thy Thyiad troop, 115° 
 
 That follow, with thy frenzy filled, 
 
 Dancing the livelong night, 
 
 Iacchus, thee their lord. 
 
 Mess. Neighbours of Cadmus, and the royal house 
 Of old Amphion, no man's life would I, 
 How high or low soever, praise or blame, 
 Since, who to-day has fortune, good or ill, 
 To-morrow's fortune lifts or lays him low; 
 No seer a constant lot foresees for men. n6o 
 
 For Creon before was happy, as I deemed, 
 Who saved this land of Cadmus from its foes, 
 And the sole sovereignty of Thebes receiving 
 Prospered therein, with noble children blest. 
 
1 86 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Now all is lost. For, when the joys of life 
 
 Men have relinquished, no more life indeed 
 
 I count their living, but a living death. 
 
 For in thy house heap riches, if thou wilt ; 
 
 Keep kingly state ; yet, if no joy withal 1169 
 
 Thou hast, for all things else, compared with pleasure, 
 
 I would not change the shadow of a smoke. 
 
 Chor. Of what grief now of princes wilt thou tell ? 
 
 Mess. That one lies dead, whom those who live have 
 slain. 
 
 Chor. Say, who is slain ? And what man is the 
 slayer ? 
 
 Mess. Haemon is dead : his death no stranger's act. 
 
 Chor. Slain by himself, or by his father's hand ? 
 
 Mess. Wroth with his pitiless sire, he slew himself. 
 
 Chor. Ο prophet, how thy prophecy comes true ! 
 
 Mess. These things being so, consider of the rest. 
 
 Chor. Lo, hard at hand the miserable queen, n8o 
 
 Eurydice : who from the house comes forth 
 Either by chance, or hearing of her son. 
 
 Eur. Good townsmen all, your conference I heard, 
 As to the doors I came, intending now 
 Of Pallas to entreat her heavenly aid. 
 Even as I loosed the fastenings of the gate, 
 That opened wide, there smote my ears a word 
 Of sorrow all my own : backward I swooned, 
 Surprised by terror, in my maidens' arms : 
 
ANTIGONE. 187 
 
 But tell me now your tidings once again — 119° 
 
 For, not unlearned in sorrow, I shall hear. 
 
 Mess. Dear mistress, I will tell thee what I saw, 
 And not leave out one word of all the truth. 
 Why should I flatter thee with glozing words, 
 Too soon found false ? Plain truth is ever best. 
 Thy husband hence I followed at the heels 
 To that high plain, where torn by dogs the body 
 Of Polyneices lay, unpitied still. 
 A prayer we said to Hecate in the way 
 And Pluto, their displeasure to refrain, 1200 
 
 Then, sprinkling with pure water, in new-stript boughs 
 Wrapped round and burned the fragments that re- 
 mained. 
 A lofty funeral-mound of native earth 
 We heaped for him ; then sought the maiden's bed, 
 Her bridal bed with Hades in the rock. 
 And from afar a voice of shrill lament 
 About the unhallowed chamber some one heard, 
 And came to Creon, and told it to his lord. 
 And in his ears, approaching, the wild cry 
 Rang doubtfully, till now there brake from him 1210 
 
 A word of sharp despair, ' Ο wretched man, 
 What fear is at my heart ? and am I going 
 The wofullest road that ever I have gone ? 
 It is my son's voice greets me. Good servants, go, 
 Go nearer quickly ; and standing by the tomb, 
 
ANTIGONE. 
 
 Even to the throat of the vault peer through and look, 
 
 Where the wrenched stonework gapes, if Haemon's voice 
 
 I recognise indeed, or by the gods 
 
 Am cheated ! ' Crazed with his fear, he spake ; and we 
 
 Looked, as he bade ; and in the last of the tomb 1220 
 
 We saw the maiden — hanged : about her neck 
 
 Some shred of linen had served her for a noose : 
 
 And fallen upon her, clasping her, he lay, 
 
 Wailing his wasted passion in the grave, 
 
 His fatal father, and his luckless bride. 
 
 His father saw, and crying a bitter cry 
 
 Went in, and with a lamentable voice 
 
 Called him, ' Ο rash, what is it that thou hast done ? 
 
 What wouldst thou ? On what madness hast thou rushed ? 
 
 My son, come forth : I pray thee — I implore.' 1230 
 
 But with fierce eyes the boy glared at his sire 
 
 And looks of loathing, and for answer plucked 
 
 Forth a two-hilted sword, and would have struck, 
 
 But missed him, as he fled : and in that minute, 
 
 Wroth with himself, in his own side amain 
 
 Thrust deep the steel, unhappy ; and conscious still 
 
 Folded the maiden in his fainting arms ; 
 
 Then, gasping out his life in one sharp breath, 
 
 Pelted her pale cheek with the crimson shower. 
 
 Dead with the dead he lies, such nuptial rites 1240 
 
 In halls of Hades, luckless, having won ; 
 
 Teaching the world, that of all human ills 
 
ANTIGONE. 189 
 
 With human folly is none that may compare. 
 
 Chor. How should one deem of this ? The queen, 
 without 
 A word, of good or evil, has gone hence. 
 
 Mess. Indeed, 'tis strange : but yet I feed on hope 
 That to lament in public for her son 
 She will not deign ; but, as for private sorrow, 
 Will charge her women in the house to weep. 
 She is well tried in prudence, not to fail. 1250 
 
 Chor. I know not ; but to me the too-much silence, 
 No less than clamorous grief, seems perilous. 
 
 Mess. I will go hence to the house, and know, if aught 
 Of secret purpose in her raging heart 
 She hath kept locked from us. Thou sayest well : 
 The too-much silence may bode mischief too. 
 
 Chor. Lo, the king comes hither himself, in his hands 
 The record, not doubtful its purport, bearing ; 
 No grief (I dare to say) wrought by another, 
 But the weight of his own misdoing. 1260 
 
 Cre. Alas, my purblind wisdom's fatal fault, \Strophe. 
 Stubborn, and fraught with death ! 
 Ye see us, sire and son, 
 The slayer and the slain. 
 Ο counsels all unblest ! 
 Alas for thee, my son, 
 
 So young a life and so untimely quenched — 
 Gone from me, past recall — 
 
ΐ9θ ANTIGONE. 
 
 Not by thy folly, but my own ! 1269 
 
 Chor. Ah, how too late thou dost discern the truth ! 
 
 Cre. Yea, to my cost I know : but then, methinks, 
 Oh then, some god with crushing weight 
 Leapt on me, drave me into frantic ways, 
 Trampling, alas for me, 
 In the base dust my ruined joy. 
 Ο toil and trouble of mortals — trouble and toil ! 
 
 Sec. Mess. Trouble, Ο king, thine own and none but 
 thine, 
 Thou comest, methinks, part bearing in thy hands ; 
 Part — in the house thou hast, and soon shalt see. 1280 
 
 Cre. What more, what worse than evil, yet remains ? 
 
 Sec. Mess. Thy wife is dead, with desperate hand ev'n 
 now 
 Self-slain, for this dead son for whom she lived. 
 
 Cre. Ο harbour of Hades, never to be appeased, [Ant. 
 Why art thou merciless ? 
 What heavy news is this ? 
 Harsh news to me of grief, 
 That slays me, slain before ! 
 
 A woful word indeed, 1290 
 
 Telling of slaughter upon slaughter heaped, 
 To me, the twice-bereaved, 
 At one fell swoop, of son and wife ! 
 
 Chor. Behold and see : for now the doors stand wide. 
 
 Cre. This second grief, ah me, my eyes behold. 
 
ANTIGONE. 191 
 
 What fate, ah what, remains behind ? 
 
 My son I hold already in my arms : 
 
 And now, ah woe is me, 
 
 This other in my sight lies dead : 
 
 Mother and child — most piteous both to see ! 1300 
 
 Sec. Mess. Heartstricken at the altar as she fell, 
 Her swooning eyes she opened, and made moan 
 For Megareus, her son, who nobly died 
 Before, and for this other, and with her last 
 Breath cursed, the slayer of her children, thee. 
 
 Cre. Ah me, will no one aim 
 Against my heart, made wild with fear, 
 With two-edged sword a deadly thrust ? 
 Ο wretched that I am, 1310 
 
 Fulfilled with sorrow, and made one with grief ! 
 
 Sec. Mess. She did reproach thee, truly, ere she died, 
 And laid on thee the blame of both their deaths. 
 
 Cre. What was the manner of her violent end ? 
 
 Sec. Mess. Pierced to the heart, by her own hand, she 
 died, 
 Hearing her son's most lamentable fate. 
 
 Cre. All, all on me this guilt must ever rest, 
 And on no head but mine. 
 Ο my poor son, I slew thee, even I : 
 Let no one doubt, but that the deed was mine. 1320 
 
 Ο servants, lead me quickly, lead me hence ; 
 And let me be as one who is no more. 
 
192 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Chor. 'Tis counselled well, if well with ill can be : 
 For bad is best, when soonest out of sight. 
 
 Cre. I care not, let it come : 
 Let come the best of all my fate, 1330 
 
 The best, the last, that ends my days : 
 What care I ? come what will — 
 That I no more may see another day. 
 
 Chor. Let be the future : mind the present need, 
 And leave the rest to whom the rest concerns. 
 Cre. No other wish have I ; that prayer is all. 
 Chor. Pray not at all : all is as fate appoints : 
 'Tis not in mortals to avert their doom. 
 
 Cre. Oh lead me hence, unprofitable ; who thee 
 Unwittingly have slain, i 34 o 
 
 Child, and my wife, unhappy ; and know not now 
 Which way to look to either : for all things 
 Are crooked that I handle, and a fate 
 Intolerable upon my life hath leapt. 
 
 Chor. First of all happiness far is wisdom, 
 And to the gods that one fail not of piety. 
 But great words of the overweening 
 Lay great stripes to the backs of the boasters : i 35 o 
 
 Taught by adversity, 
 Old age learns, too late, to be wise. 
 
ELECTRA 
 
PERSONS. 
 
 Orestes. 
 
 Pylades. {Mute.) 
 
 Aegisthus. 
 
 Pedagogue or Attendant. 
 
 Clytaemnestra. 
 
 Electra. 
 
 Chrysothemis. 
 
 Chorus of Argive Maidens. 
 
<2!cctra, 
 
 Ped. Ο OX of that Agamemnon, who round Troy 
 ^ Gathered the hosts of Greece, now with 
 thine eyes 
 May'st thou behold all that thy heart desired. 
 This is the ancient Argos of thy longing — 
 The precinct this of Ino, frenzied, maid : 
 Named of the god. the Slayer of the wolf, 
 The Place Lyceian see. Orestes, here — 
 Hera's famed temple yonder on the left : 
 But, whither our feet are come, deem that thou seest 
 None other than Mycenae, the rich city — 
 [Mycenae, rich in gold ; and, rich in slaughter. 10 
 
 Stand there the halls of the Pelopidae — 
 Whence from the slaying ot thy sire, that day, 
 By thine own sister trusted to my hands, 
 I bore thee forth, and saved thee, and have reared. 
 Till lo thou art grown a man — thy sire's avenger. 
 Now, then, Orestes, and thou, best of friends, 
 Pylades, counsel quickly of the way. 
 For see, the sun is risen, and his beam 
 Wakes clear the matin voices of the birds. 
 
196 ELECTRA. 
 
 And the murk night of stars is overworn. 
 Then linger not till folk come from the house, * 
 But straight confer ; since, where we stand, is now 
 No time for tarrying, but high time for deeds. 
 Or. Ο good old servitor, how well appears 
 By certain proof thy loyalty to us ; 
 For, as a noble steed, though he be old, 
 In extreme peril pricks erect his ear, 
 Forgetting not his valiant strain, so thou 
 Both hastenest us and followest first thyself. 
 Hear then how I advise, and to my words 
 Give thou good heed ; then let thy better wit 3. 
 Correct me, if in aught I miss the mark. 
 When to the Pythian oracle I came 
 Inquiring of the god how best I might 
 Join issue with the murderers of my sire, 
 Phoebus to me made answer — mark me, how. 
 By guile, alone, aidless of shields or host, 
 He bade me snatch the retributive stroke. 
 So spake the voice prophetic. Therefore go — 
 Soon as occasion bids thee, enter straight — 
 Know all that is a-doing in the house ; 4 c 
 
 Then, of thy knowledge, bring us certain word. 
 So old and lapsed in years, fear not that folk 
 Will know thee, or suspect, besprent with grey. 
 Be this thy word, thou art a stranger come 
 From Phocis, sent by Phanoteus their friend — 
 
ELECTRA. 197 
 
 Friend and ally more potent have they none. 
 
 Then tell them, and confirm it with an oath, 
 
 Orestes by hard stroke of doom is dead — 
 
 At Delphi, in the race of whirling wheels, 
 
 From chariot flung : so let the story stand. 50 
 
 Meanwhile my father's tomb — our task prescribed — 
 
 We with libation first will duly crown 
 
 And wealth of tresses shorn, then back return, 
 
 An urn of brass uplifted in our hands — 
 
 AVhereof thou knowest, in safe covert hid — 
 
 So to announce our welcome tidings false, 
 
 Tidings that this my body is no more, 
 
 But calcined now and charred to nothingness. 
 
 Since what offends me here, when death in name 
 
 Proves life indeed to me and wins renown ? 60 
 
 Words fraught with gain, I trow, cannot be ill. 
 
 Have I not heard of wise men, not a few, 
 
 Dying in an idle rumour ? Back they come — 
 
 Great out of knowledge straightway are they grown. 
 
 So living, doubt not, from this falsehood's cloud 
 
 I on my dazzled foes, starlike, shall break. 
 
 But, Ο my fatherland, and native gods, 
 
 Receive me prospering in my home-return ; 
 
 And ye, halls of my fathers ; for I come 
 
 With justice charged by heaven to make you clean ; 70 
 
 And send me not dishonoured from the land — 
 
 Let me begin its wealth, and right my house. 
 
1 98 ELECTRA. 
 
 My say is said ; thee let it ηολν concern, 
 Old man, to go, and of thy task have heed — 
 And forth will we ; for so occasion bids, 
 The sovereign ruler of all deeds of men. 
 
 El. Ah me, alas ! 
 
 Fed. Hark — from the doors sounded a woman's 
 voice 
 AVeeping, meseemed — some servant of the house. 
 
 Or. Is it the sad Electra ? shall we bide So 
 
 Here for awhile, and hearken her lament ? 
 
 Ted. Not so : nought else let us attempt before 
 The bidding of the god we have performed, 
 Our work's inauguration — to pour out 
 Libations to thy sire ; for this imports 
 The victory ours, and prospers all we do. [They go out. 
 
 El. Ο holy light of heaven, 
 And Earth's coequal, Air, 
 How many a mourning song of me, 
 And buffeting of how many a blow 
 
 Upon my bleeding bosom have ye heard, 90 
 
 When night, your dusky robe, ye leave behind! 
 And well ere now this house of horror knows, 
 And my detested couch, 
 What night-vigils I keep — 
 For my unhappy sire what dirge I make, 
 Whom, from a barbarous land returned, 
 From entertainment 'scaped of Ares fierce, 
 
ELECTRA. 199 
 
 My mother and her paramour, 
 Aegisthus, ev'n as woodfellers an oak, 
 With murderous axe hewed to the nape ; 
 And no compassion for these things, η 
 
 Father, for thy so hideous piteous end, 
 From other lips than mine escapes : 
 But nowise will I fail 
 Of weeping and lamenting sore, 
 Till from my sight the shimmering sheen of stars, 
 And this fair daylight, fail ; 
 But, as a nightingale 
 For Itys unconsoled, 
 From these ancestral doors will I 
 Still utter forth in all men's ears 
 A lamentable voice. 
 
 Ο home of Hades and Persephone, 1 
 
 Ο ghostly Hermes and thou sovereign Curse, 
 And dread divine Erinyes, 
 Whose eyes behold the foully slain, 
 And those adulterously spoiled — 
 Hearken and come and help, 
 Our father's murder foul avenge, 
 And speed my brother home to me — 
 To me, whose single strength 
 No more can countervail 
 
 This downward-dragging weight of woe. 1 
 
 Chor. Child of the guilty one, 
 
20o ELECTRA. 
 
 Electra, how dost thou still 
 Waste in inveterate grief thy strength away 
 For Agamemnon, trapped, how long ago, 
 By cursed treachery of thy mother false, 
 And to the cowardly blow betrayed — may he 
 Who planned it perish — so God pardon me the 
 word ! 129 
 
 EL Ο noble hearts, your coming soothes my pain. 
 I know and understand full well — 
 
 Nothing escapes me that ye say — 
 
 Yet would I not give o'er, 
 
 Not cease from weeping for my hapless sire. 
 
 But ye whose love responsive beats 
 
 To every mood of mine, 
 
 Allow my raving thus — 
 
 Ah me — for pity ! 
 
 Chor. But not with sobs or prayers 
 
 Thy father shalt thou bring 
 
 Back from the dark inevitable flood. 
 
 Yet thou with ceaseless tears dost lose thyself 140 
 
 In sorrow beyond reason uncontrolled — 
 
 AVherein is no remission of thy pain. 
 
 Why wilt thou woo thy misery ? 
 
 El. Fool, who forgets a parent's piteous loss ! 
 
 She fits my fancy rather, 
 
 That passionate and melancholy bird, 
 
 The messenger of Zeus, that makes her plaint 
 
ELECT/? Α. 
 
 For Itys, Itys, evermore. 
 
 Ο queen of sorrow, Niobe, 
 
 I hail thee goddess — thee *so 
 
 Who, rock-ensepulchred, 
 
 Art weeping, weeping still. 
 
 Chor. To thee, thee single in the world, 
 Daughter, no grief has come, 
 Touching thee more than those within — 
 Blood of thy blood, thy sisters both, 
 Chrysothemis and Iphianassa, who yet live — 
 And he too lives, his young life screened from sorrow, 
 Blest, whom our famed Mycenian land 
 Shall one day welcome home, her noblest son, 160 
 
 In God's good time returning, 
 Returning home — Orestes. 
 
 EL For whom I waiting, ah the weary while, 
 Poor wretch, no mother and no wife, 
 Fail still for waiting, wasted with my tears — 
 And see my lot, sad without end of sorrow : 
 But he forgets 
 
 What he endured, and what has heard : 
 For what to me 
 
 Of tidings comes, not soon belied ? 170 
 
 For always he desires, 
 But yet desiring heeds not to appear. 
 
 Chor. Courage, Ο daughter, courage : still 
 High Zeus in heaven is king, 
 
202 ELECTRA. 
 
 Who sees and governs all ; 
 
 To whom thine all too bitter wrath committing, 
 
 Neither forget thy foes nor hate them overmuch. 
 
 Time as a god makes rough ways smooth : 
 
 For neither Agamemnon's son, 
 
 Who by the sea with Crisa's herdsmen bides, 180 
 
 Hath all forgotten thee, 
 
 No, nor the god by Acheron who reigns. 
 
 El. But now almost in dull despair 
 My days are fled, my strength is spent ; 
 My wasted frame no parents tend, 
 No loving champion shields from wrong ; 
 Lodged as an alien, scarce allowed 
 
 Beneath my father's roof a home, 190 
 
 Clad in this mean attire, 
 And standing by a table scantly spread. 
 
 CJior. Ο piteous voice, proclaimed his home-return — 
 Piteous, whenas he lay at feast, 
 When through the temples of thy sire 
 The steely jaws remorseless flashed and struck. 
 'Twas guile that planned, and lust that smote, 
 Whereof the dire embrace 
 A direful act engendered — 
 
 By whomsoever this was done, 200 
 
 A mortal or a god. 
 
 El. Ο bitter, bitter day 
 Beyond all days to me : 
 
ELECTKA. 203 
 
 Ο night — Ο utter agony 
 
 Of that unutterable feast : 
 
 And Ο the hideous sight my sire beheld, 
 
 Those hands uplifted of the murderous twain, 
 
 Whose treason sapped my life, and murdered me 
 
 For whom, supreme Olympian king, 
 
 Prepare such retributive fate, ■ 
 
 Shall turn to dust the glittering prize, 
 
 Their deed achieved. 
 
 Chor. Be advised to speak no more : 
 Hast thou not wit to mark, 
 Wherefrom into this low estate, 
 Into what woes self-gotten, 
 Thou art fallen so miserably? 
 No light excess of pain thou to thyself procurest, 
 Still in thy brooding soul 
 Conceiving war ; but war 'tis none, 
 To struggle with the strong. ■■ 
 
 EL I must, upon a dread compulsion must : 
 Nay, I know, my own heart full well I know ; 
 But, whilst the dread is on my soul, 
 Not for the sake of life shall act of mine 
 Set to these miseries an end : 
 For what, kind hearts, but most unseemly words, 
 To all, to all that see aright, 
 Should then of me be spoken ? 
 Ah, comfort, comfort, let me be : 
 
20 4 ELECTRA. 
 
 For cureless shall my case be called, 230 
 
 Nor ever shall I cease from pain, 
 From pouring sigh on sigh. 
 
 Chor. Nay, but in love I counsel thee, 
 Ev'n as a careful mother might, 
 Add not to sorrows sorrow self-conceived. 
 
 El. But of my wretchedness what bound ? 
 Shall we forget the dead ? Were this then well ? 
 Is there in men ingratitude so deep ? 
 Never may I of such an one have praise ; 
 Never may I, if still to any good 240 
 
 I cleave, in selfish ease abide therewith, 
 Checking, neglectful of my sire, 
 The pinion strong of passionate lament. 
 Because if he, being slain, woe worth the day, 
 Sleeps 'neath the earth, and is no more, 
 And those his enemies 
 Pay not their blood for his, 
 Then both regard of man and fear of God 
 From earth shall cease. 2 so 
 
 Chor. Daughter, I came, zealous alike for thee 
 As for myself; but if I speak not well 
 Have thou thy way, for I will follow thee. 
 
 El. I am ashamed, Ο ladies, if ye deem 
 Impatient overmuch my oft complaining : 
 But, since necessity compels my grief, 
 Chide not. How were it noble not to grieve, 
 
ELECTRA. 205 
 
 Seeing my father's house oppressed with woe — 
 
 Yes, and I see the trouble day and night 
 
 Not ceasing, but prevailing more and more : 260 
 
 Who from the mother who bore me have found, first, 
 
 Hatred for love ; then, under my own roof 
 
 I with my father's murderers abide ; 
 
 They rule me, and from them comes all I have — 
 
 My having and my wanting, both are theirs. 
 
 Bethink you next, what sort of days I pass, 
 
 Seeing Aegisthus seated^ on the throne } 
 
 That was my father's — seeing him clad in robes 
 
 That once my father wore, and pouring out 
 
 Libations at the hearth whereat he slew him, 27 o 
 
 And seeing this their crowning insolence, 
 
 The murderer couching in our father's bed 
 
 Beside our wretched mother — if we must 
 
 Call her our mother, wedded to this man; 
 
 Shameless she is, and with the guilty one 
 
 Dwells, fearing no Avenger of these things ; 
 
 But, even as though she gloried in her deed, 
 
 Hath found her out that fatal day, whereon 
 
 Our father by her treachery she slew, 
 
 And honours it with dances, and each month 280 
 
 To the Saviour Gods makes sacrifice of sheep. 
 
 And I, beholding, wretched, in the house 
 
 Wear out my strength with weeping, and lament 
 
 For the unholy feast, named of my sire, 
 
206 ELECT R Α. 
 
 Myself in secret : for I may not have 
 
 Even of weeping all my heart desires. 
 
 For then this woman — nobly can she speak — 
 
 With words of fierce reviling taunts me thus : 
 
 £ How, impious and abominable girl ? 
 
 Hast thou alone to bear a father's loss ? 
 
 Are there no mourners in the world but thou ? 
 
 My curse upon thee ! May the gods below 
 
 Give thee no riddance of thy present griefs ! ' 
 
 So she insults me : save when one brings word 
 
 Orestes will come home ; that makes her mad — 
 
 Standing, she thunders forth : ' Thou art the cause, 
 
 For is not this thy work, who from my hands 
 
 Didst steal Orestes, and convey him hence ? 
 
 But know that thou shalt have thy fit reward.' 
 
 Such words she shrieks ; and with her, at her side. 
 
 Her glorious partner prompts her, word for word, 
 
 This utter coward, this villain unredeemed, 
 
 Who fights his battles with a woman's help. 
 
 And all my life ebbs from me, waiting still 
 
 Until Orestes come to bid them cease. 
 
 So has he wrecked, still meaning, never doing, 
 
 Hopes that I had and had not, all alike. 
 
 So faring, Ο my friends, of modesty 
 
 Or reverence I wot not ; help is none — 
 
 I must in evil plight learn evil ways. 
 
 Chor. Say, is Aegisthus near us in the house, 
 
ELECTRA. 207 
 
 While thus we talk together, or gone abroad ? 
 
 El. Doubt not of that. Think not that, were he 
 near, 
 I to the doors had come. He is afield. 
 
 Chor. So with a better courage might I hold 
 Converse with thee, if this indeed is thus. 
 
 El. As in his absence, ask : what wouldst thou 
 know? 
 
 Chor. I ask thee then : how sayest thou of thy 
 brother — 
 That he will come, or lingers ? Let me know. 
 
 El. He says ; but, saying, does not what he says. 319 
 
 Chor. One well may pause, who has great work to do 
 
 El. And yet I paused not when I rescued him. 
 
 Chor. Courage : he's noble — will not fail his friends. 
 
 El. I trust, or else I had not lived so long. 
 
 Chor. Speak now no more : for at the doors I see 
 Chrysothemis, thy sister, of one sire 
 With thee, one mother, and to the tomb she bears 
 Gifts, such as to the dead men use to give. 
 
 Chrys. Sister, what voice again art thou come here 
 To utter in the doorway of the house ? 
 Not even in all this time wilt thou be taught 330 
 
 Not idly to indulge a barren wrath ? 
 Yet this I know, that I myself am grieved 
 To see the things I see : soon would I show 
 What love I bear them, could I find the strength. 
 
2o8 ELECTRA. 
 
 But now ride out the storm with shortened sail 
 I must, nor dream of harm I cannot do. 
 And such a prudent course I would were thine. 
 Justice, I know, is not as I advise, 
 But as thou choosest : but, to keep my life 
 Free, I must yield in all things to the strong. 340 
 
 El. Oh strange, that thou, the daughter of such a sire, 
 Forgettest him, and carest for thy mother ! 
 For all these admonitions that I hear 
 Are taught of her, and nothing of thyself. 
 And yet — choose which thou wilt, to be unwise, 
 Or, being prudent, to forget thy friends : 
 Who sayest now that, couldst thou find the strength, 
 What hate thou bearest these, should soon be seen : 
 But I avenge my father all I can, 
 
 Unhelped by thee— I do, and thou dissuadest. 350 
 
 Is not this bad, and cowardly besides ? 
 For teach me, or by me be taught, what gain, 
 Ceasing from lamentation, should I have ? 
 I live : though ill, yet well enough for me, 
 And they are vexed, and honoured is the dead, 
 If there is any comfort in the grave. 
 Prate not to me of hating — vain pretence, 
 While with thy father's murderers thou abidest : 
 Never would I consent — not for the chance 
 Of all those gifts of thine that make thee proud — 360 
 To stoop myself to these : I grudge thee not 
 
ELECTRA. 2C9 
 
 The wealthy table, the abounding life. 
 
 Not to offend myself, be this alone 
 
 My meat and drink : I covet not thine honours : 
 
 Nor thou, if thou wert wise. 'Men might have called thee 
 
 Child of the noblest father in the world : 
 
 But now be named thy mother's. So indeed 
 
 To many men thy baseness shall appear, 
 
 False to thy father's memory and thy friends. 
 
 Chor. Oh speak not aught in anger : for the words 
 Of both are profitable, couldst thou consent 370 
 
 To learn from her, and she again from thee. 
 
 Chrys. Used, ladies, to my sister's speech am I : 
 Nor on this theme should I have entered now, 
 Had I not heard of mischief threatening her, / 
 Great mischief, that shall end her loud complainings. 
 
 El. Tell me your worst ; withhold not. Of aught worse 
 Than this if thou canst tell me, I give in. 
 
 Chrys. I will say out the whole of what I know. 
 They purpose, if thou wilt not cease from weeping, 
 Thither to send thee, where thou shalt not see 380 
 
 The sunlight, but a prisoner all thy days 
 Sing in the dark thy sorrows, banished hence. 
 Therefore bethink thee, and blame not me hereafter, 
 When falls the blow. Time to be wise is now. 
 
 El. Are they so purposed ? Will they use me thus ? 
 
 Chrys. Ay truly, when Aegisthus is returned. 
 
 El. If that be all, so may he come with speed ! 
 
2io ELECTRA. 
 
 Chrys. hapless one, what speech, what prayer is this ? 
 El. That he may come, if this he means to do. 
 Chrys. That thou may'st suffer — what? Where are 
 
 thy wits ? 390 
 
 El. That far from sight of you I may escape. 
 Chrys. And hast thou of thy present life no thought ? 
 El. A fair and admirable life is mine ! 
 Chrys. It might be, didst thou know how to be wise. 
 El. Teach me not thou, how to be false to friends. 
 Chrys. I teach thee not, but to the strong to yield. 
 El. Be it thine to flatter thus — 'tis not my way. 
 Chrys. But not to fall through folly were no shame. 
 El. If I must fall, I will — my sire's avenger. 
 Chrys. I know my father will forgive me this. 4 <χ> 
 
 El. Such words are fit for traitors to applaud. 
 Chrys. Wilt thou not hearken, and be ruled by me ? 
 El. Long may it be before my wits so wander. 
 Chrys. Then I will do my errand and begone. 
 El. Whither art thou going? these offerings are for 
 
 whom ? 
 Chrys. My mother bids me pour them on the tomb. 
 El. How ? on the tomb of him — her enemy ? 
 Chrys. Slain by her very hand — so thou wouldst say. 
 El. Which of her friends advised? whose wish was this? 
 Chrys. Warned as I think by a terror of the night. 410 
 El. Gods of our house — now aid me — now at last ! 
 Chrys. Does this that has scared her give heart to thee? 
 
ELECT R Α. 
 
 El. Tell me the vision, and I'll answer that. 
 
 Chrys. I know not, nor I cannot tell thee much. 
 
 El. Tell what thou knowest. Often a little word 
 Hath marred men's fortunes — and oft made them too. 
 
 Chrys. I hear them say that she beheld again, 
 Revisiting the light, our father's form, 
 His very presence, and that he took and on the hearth 
 Planted that sceptre which he wielded once, 420 
 
 But now Aegisthus : and from this there shot 
 Upward a fruitful bough, whose shade waxed great 
 Above Mycenae, and covered all the land. 
 Such tale I heard from one recounting it, 
 Who heard her tell the dream to Helios : 
 But more than this I know not, save that she 
 Has sent me hither by reason of this fear. 
 Now by the gods who keep our house, I pray thee, 
 Hearken to me, and fall not through thy folly; 
 For, spurn me now, thou'lt seek me sorrowing. 43 o 
 
 El. Good sister, of all thou bearest in thy hands 
 Touch not the tomb with aught : for funeral gifts 
 Of this fell woman men nor gods allow 
 Thou to thy sire shouldst offer, or pour out 
 Libations : to the winds or to the dust 
 Deep-delved commit them, where they shall not come 
 Near to my father's bed : against her death, 
 Let them be treasured under ground for her. 
 Most shameless woman of all women is she, 
 
212 ELECTRA. 
 
 Or else she had never thought, on him she slew 440 
 
 To pour libations, not of love but hate. 
 
 How think you ? Seems it he will take these gifts, 
 
 Her buried lord, take and be pleased to take, 
 
 Even at her hand who slew him cruelly 
 
 As foe not friend, and mangled having slain, 
 
 And for ablution on his temples wiped 
 
 The blood-stains. Think you this which here you 
 
 bear 
 Shall serve her for the quittance of her guilt ? 
 It cannot be. Fling then these gifts away : 
 Cut rather from thy head its topmost tress 
 And give to him, and give (small gifts indeed, 450 
 
 But yet my best), give him from hapless me 
 This one poor lock, unfit for suppliant use, 
 And this my girdle, with no bravery decked; 
 And pray to him and bid him from the earth 
 Come graciously to help us from our foes, 
 And that Orestes with victorious strength 
 May live to trample down his enemies; 
 That so henceforth with wealthier hands than now 
 More costly gifts we to his tomb may bring. 
 Nay, for methinks, methinks his care it was 
 That visited her with such ill-favoured dreams. 4 6o 
 
 Yet, sister, do this thing ; so shalt thou help 
 Thyself and me, and help thy sire and mine — 
 Yea, even in the grave, our dearest still. 
 
ELECTRA. 213 
 
 Chor. 'Tis piously advised : and, daughter, thou 
 Wilt do this service, if thy heart be right. 
 
 Chrys. Be it so : for of the right unmeet it were 
 We twain should wrangle, hastening not the deed. 
 Only, adventuring to do this thing, 
 I charge ye, friends, that ye betray me not ; 
 For, if my mother hears it, well I know 470 
 
 That I shall rue my venture ere 'tis done. 
 
 Chor. Either a seer of dreams am I [Strophe. 
 
 Of wit and wisdom void, 
 Or Justice straight shall come, 
 The sovereign Seer, by whom I see, 
 Crowned with the might of a righteous deed — 
 Shall come, my child, and make no tarrying ; 
 So is my heart grown strong, 
 
 Since this fair dream made music in mine ears. 480 
 
 For now I know, thy sire remembereth, 
 Lord of the hosts of Greece ; 
 Nor hath forgetfulness made dull 
 The ancient axe two-edged with biting steel, 
 That struck him down with outrage and with shame. 
 With the tramp of an army's tread, \Antistrophe. 
 
 With multitudinous menace of lifted hands, 
 She shall come, the Erinys, whose feet are brass — 49° 
 From her dreadful ambush shall start and come. 
 On the impious ones there fell 
 Lust, and adulterous haste 
 
214 ELECTRA. 
 
 To a bed forbidden, a bridal cursed. 
 
 Therefore I know, for this 
 
 We not, ah not in vain shall look; 
 
 Not unaghast the murderous pair shall see 
 
 Nearer and nearer the horror creep : 
 
 Or else there is no art of men 
 
 To interpret dreams of fear, 500 
 
 And words oracular, 
 
 Unless this dream shall turn to good. 
 
 Ο woful charioting \Epode. 
 
 Of Pelops long ago ! 
 
 Ο curse abiding, on this land that fell ! 
 
 For, since beneath the wave 
 
 Sank Myrtilus on sleep, 
 
 From the chariot all of gold 510 
 
 With rash outrageous hand 
 
 Flung headlong forth, 
 
 Not from that day to this 
 
 Out of this house hath ceased 
 
 The tale of outrage, woe on woe. 
 
 Clyt. At large once more thou rangest, as it 
 seems, 
 Aegisthus absent — he who kept thee still 
 From gadding thus abroad to shame thy friends. 
 But, now that he is hence, thou hast no heed 
 Of me : although to many, many a time 520 
 
 Thou hast complained that I, unjust and harsh, 
 
 m 
 
ELECTRA. 215 
 
 Provoke thy spirit, insulting thee and thine. 
 
 What insult, when I do but give thee back 
 
 Taunts for the ceaseless taunts I hear from thee ? 
 
 Thy father — father still, thy one pretence — 
 
 By me was slain. By me ? I know it well : 
 
 'Tis true, past all denying, so he was. 
 
 For Justice slew him, not my hand alone : 
 
 And, wert thou not past feeling, thou'dst have helped, 
 
 When this thy father, for whom still flow thy tears, 530 
 
 Dared slay thy sister for a sacrifice — 
 
 Of all men he — who only was her father, 
 
 And had not borne for her a mother's pangs. 
 
 Instruct me now, for whom paid he such price — 
 
 My daughter's blood ? Thou'lt tell me, for the Greeks ? 
 
 To slay my daughter was no right of theirs. 
 
 For Menelaus then, his brother, he slew 
 
 My child — and should not answer me for this ? 
 
 Had not that brother two children of his own, 
 
 Who should have rather died, children of him, 540 
 
 Yea and of her, for whom our ships were launched ? 
 
 Or was Death's appetite so nice, to feast 
 
 Upon my children's flesh and not on hers ? 
 
 Or did this most unnatural father love 
 
 His brother's offspring, careless for his own ? 
 
 Why, what a father — senseless and dull — was this ! 
 
 However we may differ, so think I : 
 
 And so would say the slain one, might she speak. 
 
2i6 ELECTRA. 
 
 So now for this deed's sake that I have done 
 
 My heart fails not : and, if thou'rt unconvinced, 550 
 
 Be just thyself before thou judgest me. 
 
 El. This time thou scarce wilt say that I began 
 The bitterness, and then by thee was chidden : 
 Give me but leave, I'll plead and plead aright 
 Both for my father and my sister too. 
 
 Clyt. Permission's thine : and, hadst thou always been 
 So humble, I had not loathed to hear thy voice. 
 
 El. Thus then. My father thou hast slain. What 
 word 
 More damning is there of thy guilt than this — 
 Justly or not, no matter. But I shall prove, 500 
 
 Just deed 'twas none — but thou wast won to it 
 With wooing of a traitor, now thy lord. 
 Ask huntress Artemis, what angered her 
 At Aulis so to check those thronging winds. 
 Or, since from her thou canst not, hear from me. 
 I_hear it said, my father roamed one day 
 Her glades light-hearted, and with his footfall scared 
 An antlered stag with dappled skin, and spoke 
 A boastful word, and shot, and pierced its throat. 
 Therefore Latona's daughter being wroth 570 
 
 Held back the Greeks until thy sire should give 
 For the slain beast his daughter, life for life. 
 And so he slew her : for no otherwise 
 Homeward or Troyward had our fleet release. 
 
 \ 
 
ELECTRA. 217 
 
 Therefore orchard compulsion, loth to yield, / 
 He slew her, nowise for his brother's sake. 
 Yet, were it as thou hast said, had he done this 
 All for his brother's cause, yet even so 
 / Shouldst thou have slain him ? By what law were this ? 
 Take heed, appointing such a law for men, 580 
 
 That thou appoint not sorrow for thyself. 
 For, if blood must be shed for blood, thou first /^ 
 Shouldst die, if justice should be done on thee. 
 But see to it, if thy pretext be not false. 
 For tell me, an thou wilt, for what cause now 
 We see thee do most shameful deeds of all, 
 Who dost beside that murderer couch, with whom 
 Thou didst conspire before to slay my sire, 
 And bear'st him children, and hast cast out for him 
 The_stainless children of thy stainless lord. 590 
 
 How shall I praise this thing ? Thou'lt tell me, this, 
 This also is the price of daughter's blood ? 
 'Tis foully done, say as thou wilt. To wed 
 Foes, for a daughter's sake, is no fair thing. , - 
 Nay but one may not speak nor counsel thee, 
 Who sparest no words to tell, how I thy daughter 
 Am still thy slanderer : yea, and I deem thee less 
 A mother than a mistress unto me, 
 \Vho live a grievous life, and sore beset 
 With all hard usage of thy lord and thee. 600 
 
 But out of reach the other, scarce escaped, 
 
2i8 ELECTRA. 
 
 The sad Orestes, wastes a hapless life : 
 
 Of whom I hear thee rate me that he lives 
 
 Reared up by me, for vengeance. Could I this, 
 
 Be sure indeed I would. If this be all, 
 
 Cry, cry aloud, and call me as thou wilt 
 
 Unnatural, loquacious, unabashed. 
 
 For if indeed I know such deeds as these, 
 
 Methinks of such a child thou shouldst be proud. 609 
 
 Clio?: I see, she breathes out fury : but, if her ..words 
 ^ Chime still with justice, this she heeds no longer. 
 
 Clyt. And why should I have any heed of her, 
 Who me her mother has with such words reviled — 
 She a mere child besides ? Seems she not one 
 To go all lengths and never blench or blush ? 
 
 El. Nay, that I blush for this, I'd have thee know, 
 Although thou thinkest not ; too well I see, 
 Unseemly and ill-timed my words have been. 
 But thy unkindness, and thine acts to me, 
 These in my own despite have made me mad. 620 
 
 For shameful deeds by shameful deeds are taught. 
 
 Clyt. Thou shameless thing, my words and acts and I, 
 Methinks, have made thee over-garrulous. 
 
 El. My speech is thine, not mine : thou doest the 
 deeds, 
 And 'tis the deeds that find themselves the words. 
 
 Clyt. So help me Artemis, but thou shalt rue 
 This boldness, when Aegisthus comes again. 
 
ELECTRA. 219 
 
 El. So you fly out in anger — though you gave me 
 Leave to speak all my mind ; but you'll not hear. 
 
 Clyt. May I not sacrifice without thy clamour, 630 
 
 Now, having left thee free to say thy say ? 
 
 El. Hinder, not I : I pray you, sacrifice ! 
 Chide not my speaking, for I'll speak no more. 
 
 Clyt. Who does my bidding, let her lift on high 
 The gift of every fruit, that I may pray 
 To Phoebus here to rid me of my fears. 
 Protector, Phoebus, hear and understand, 
 Although my speech be darkened. For I speak 
 In no friend's ears, nor with this maiden near 
 Must I unfold my meaning to the light, 640 
 
 Lest she with spite and rumour, thousand-tongued, 
 Through all the city scatter false report. 
 But hear me thus : thus I will dare to speak. 
 The vision which in doubtful dreams this night 
 I saw, Ο lord Lyceius, let it be 
 Accomplished, if 'tis sent me for my good ; 
 If harm, upon my enemies let it fall : 
 And suffer not whoever deem by guile 
 To cast me down out of this high estate: 
 So let me live a life exempt from ill, 650 
 
 Possessing still the sceptre and the house, 
 And dwelling with the friends with whom I dwell 
 Lead peaceful days — and of my children those 
 Who neither bear me spite nor cause me sorrow. 
 
ELECTRA. 
 
 Phoebus, Lyceius, hear me graciously. 
 And be it to all of us as I desire. 
 The rest, although my lips pronounce not, yet 
 I deem that thou, being a god, dost know. 
 All things are open to the sons of Zeus. 
 
 Fed. Ladies, I pray you tell me, is this house 660 
 
 The palace of Aegisthus, of the king ? 
 
 Chor. No other, friend ; thyself hast guessed aright. 
 
 Fed. And do I rightly deem this lady here 
 His wife ? who looks none other than a queen. 
 
 Chor, As thou hast said; thine eyes behold the queen. 
 
 Fed. Lady, all hail. Bearing glad news I come 
 To thee and to Aegisthus, from a friend. 
 
 Clyt. I hail the word : and who with these glad news 
 Has sent thee hither ? — this I first would know. 
 
 Fed. From Phocian Phanoteus I bear great tidings. 670 
 
 Clyt. What tidings, friend ? speak, for from one so kind 
 Kind words that thou wilt utter, well I know. 
 
 Fed. Orestes — briefly to tell my tale — is dead. 
 ' - ΈΙ. Ο woful day, a fataljule .to me ! 
 
 Clyt. How, sirrah — how say you? Hearken not to her. 
 
 Fed. I said and say, Orestes, lady, is dead. 
 
 El. Ο fatal tidings, how am I undone ! 
 
 Clyt. See to thyself: but, sirrah, thou to me 
 Speak all the truth, and tell me how he died. 
 
 Fed. Thou shalt hear all, for therefore was I sent. 680 
 To the pride of Greece, the festival renowned, 
 
ELECTRA. 221 
 
 For Delphic contests' sake Orestes came ; 
 
 And when he heard the proclamation loud 
 
 That heralded the foot-race, first of trials, 
 
 He entered bright the lists, worshipped by all, 
 
 And ran, till starting-point and goal were one, 
 
 And crowned with honour and victory came thereout. 
 
 Few among many I know not how to tell 
 
 Of the victorious feats of such a man : 
 
 But this I say — that of no trial the judges 6 9 o 
 
 Proclaimed decision, single or double race — 
 
 Pentathlon also, all the fivefold custom — 
 
 But he of one and all bore prize away, 
 
 By men hailed happy — he an Argive styled, 
 
 By name Orestes, Agamemnon's son, 
 
 Who of all Greece gathered the famous host. 
 
 These things indeed were so : but, when a god 
 
 Stops the strong runner, hardly shall he flee. / 
 
 For he, another day, when charioteers 
 
 At sunrise matched their speed in the swift race, 
 
 With many another entered for the prize. 7co 
 
 One was Achaean, one from Sparta, two — 
 
 Masters of yoked cars — were Libyan-born • 
 
 And he with these driving Thessalian mares 
 
 Came fifth ; next him with chestnut colts the sixth, 
 
 Aetolian; a Magnesian was the seventh; 
 
 Aenian by race the eighth, and white his steeds; 
 
 A ninth came thither from Athens, built by gods; 
 
222 ELECTRA. 
 
 One more Boeotian, making the chariots ten. 
 
 So, standing where their place the appointed umpires 
 
 Assigned them by the lot, and ranged their cars, 710 
 
 All at the trumpet's sound they started : all, 
 
 Chiding their horses on, shook loose the reins 
 
 Together, and the plain at once was filled 
 
 With din of rattling cars, and dust that rose 
 
 Skyward ; and all together in a throng 
 
 Spared not the goad, when one from out the press 
 
 Shot past their axles and the snorting steeds. 
 
 For all about their backs and rolling wheels 
 
 The breathings of the horses foamed and smote. 
 
 And ever, against the pillar where they turned, 720 
 
 Orestes grazed his axle, and his traces 
 
 Loosed on the right and tightened on the left; 
 
 And all the chariots held erect their course, 
 
 Till those unbridled colts by the Aenian driven 
 
 From all restraint broke loose, and made the round 
 
 A sixth time, but the seventh, swerving, full 
 
 Against the team Barcaean dashed their foreheads : 
 
 And so from one disaster each against each 
 
 Crashed and heeled over, and with the chariot-wrecks 
 
 All the Crisaean plain was overstrewn. 73 o 
 
 This he from Athens, wise in his charioting, 
 
 Marked, and pulled sideways, and so rode out the storm — 
 
 Letting its surge seethe past him in mid-course. 
 
 Last drave Orestes, holding back his colts, 
 
ELECTRA. 
 
 And trusted still his prowess at the close : 
 
 But, when he saw that other left alone, 
 
 His steeds in the ears with one sharp cry he smote, 
 
 And so, full speed, came after ; until abreast 
 
 The chariots raced, and of the charioteers 
 
 Now this, now that, with head thrust forth, showed first. 740 
 
 And safe till now Orestes every round 
 
 Steered still, ill-starred, steadfast his steadfast car; 
 
 But the last time, loosing the left-hand rein, 
 
 Even while the horse turned, struck and knew it not 
 
 The edge of the pillar, and the rim o' the nave 
 
 O' the axle splintered ; and himself behind 
 
 Slipped 'twixt the rails, and tangled all amid 
 
 The dainty reins : and down he fell on the plain, 
 
 So that his colts were scattered in mid-course. 
 
 And when the people saw him from the car 
 
 Fallen, a cry of pity outbrake to see 75 o 
 
 What deeds the youth had done, and how he fared, 
 
 Now dashed to the earth, and now feet uppermost 
 
 Tossed to the sky ; until the charioteers, 
 
 Scarce having checked the fury of his steeds, 
 
 Loosed him all bleeding, all his poor limbs torn 
 
 And battered past all knowing of his friends. 
 
 Him on the pyre we burned, and hither now 
 
 Come chosen men from Phocis, in one small urn 
 
 Bearing the .sad dust of that mighty form, 
 
 That in his native earth he may have rest. 760 
 
224 ELECTRA. 
 
 There is no more to say. A piteous tale 
 To tell, but in the seeing, to us who saw, 
 Greatest of all evils that ever I have seen. 
 
 CJwr. Ah me, for now, I think, the race and name 
 Of my old masters is from earth evanish'd ! 
 
 Clyt. Zeus, what shall I say — this is glad news to 
 me, 
 Or dire news and yet good news ? oh 'tis bitter, 
 That by my own calamities I live ! 
 
 Fed. Lady, why does thy heart fail for this hearing? 
 
 Clyt 'Tis dire to be a mother — howe'er unkind, 770 
 The child of one's womb one cannot learn to hate. 
 
 Fed. Then all in vain it seems that we have come. 
 
 Clyt. Nay, not in vain. How shouldst thou say in vain? 
 If hither you bring to me proof of his death — 
 His death — whose life from my life sprang, but he 
 Would none of my milk, and from my nursing fled 
 And lived an alien, and since he went from hence 
 Saw me no more ; but called me murderess 
 Of his father, and with dire reckoning menaced me, 
 So that the kind sleep neither by night nor day 780 
 
 Covered my eyes, but still the tyrannous time 
 Seemed ever to drag me onward to my doom. 
 But now, for on this day I am rid of fear 
 From him and from this maiden, who, worse plague, 
 Dwelt with me, sucking from me day by day 
 My sheer heart's blood — now, now methinks in peace, 
 
ELECTRA. 225 
 
 Untroubled by his threats, my days shall pass. 
 
 El. Ah woe is me : for now, Orestes, now 
 I may lament for thee, \vhen, being thus, 
 By thy mother thou art mocked. Is it not well ? 790 
 
 Clyt Not well with thee : but well, being thus, does he, 
 
 El. Nemesis of the dead — scarce dead — oh hear ! 
 
 Clyt. Who should be heard, she heard ; and well 
 ordained it. 
 
 El. Mocker, mock on : this is thy triumph's hour. 
 
 r 
 
 Clyt. Thou and Orestes shall not spoil me this. 
 
 El. Nay, we are spoiled, no talk of spoiling thee. 
 
 Clyt. Much thanks indeed, friend, should thine errand 
 win, 
 If she is silenced of her noisy grief. 
 
 Fed. So let me take my leave, if this is well. 
 
 Clyt. Not so ; for so not worthily of me, 800 
 
 Or of the friend who sent thee, shouldst thou fare. 
 Come thou within ; and let this maiden here 
 Proclaim aloud her sorrows and her friends'. 
 
 El. Seems she not, like one grieved and sick at heart, 
 This miserable mother, for her son 
 So slain to make dire weeping and lament ? 
 Nay, laughing she is gone. Ο me, alas, 
 Orestes, dearest, thy death is death to me ! 
 With thee are gone, plucked from my heart away, 
 All hopes that tarried still to comfort me, 810 
 
 That thou wouldst come, living, to avenge thy sire 
 
226 ELECTRA. 
 
 I 
 And me, unhappy. Now whither shall I go ? 
 
 For now I am alone — now thou art lost, 
 
 Thou and my sire. And henceforth in the house 
 
 Of these my father's murderers, whom I hate, 
 
 The life of a slave is mine. Ο goodly lot ! 
 
 Ah no, but never any more will I 
 
 Live 'neath their roof, but at their gate will lay 
 
 My withered, friendless life until I die. 
 
 Now therefore let them kill me, those in the house, 820 
 
 If they are weary of me : death is sweet, 
 
 But life is grievous — I have no heart to live. 
 
 Chor. Where, Zeus, are thy lightnings — Ο Sun-god, 
 where is thy beam — 
 If ye, these things beholding, hide them, all heedless ? 
 
 EL. Woe and alas ! 
 
 Chor. Ο daughter, why art thou weeping ? 
 
 EL Alas and alas ! 
 
 Chor. No rash word utter. 
 
 EL Thou'lt be my death. 
 
 Chor. How ? 830 
 
 EL If for the dead, dead past all doubt, 
 Hope ye still shall suggest, 
 On me, consumed with my sorrow, 
 The more ye shall trample. 
 
 Chor. Nay, for I know that King Amphiaraus, 
 By reason of golden snares of women, 
 Was buried alive ; and now 
 
ELECTRA. 227 
 
 Under the earth — 
 
 El. Alas the day ! 8 4 o 
 
 Chor. In fulness of force he reigns. 
 
 El. Alas! 
 
 Chor. Alas indeed ! for the murderess — 
 
 El. Was slain ? 
 
 Chor. Yes. 
 
 El. I know it, I know it, 
 For the mourner a champion arose : 
 But to me no champion is left, 
 For the one who remained is lost, 
 Snatched hence and gone. 
 
 Chor. Unhappy thou art, hapless thy plight. 
 
 El. I also know this, too well I know it, 850 
 
 Who lead a life, month after month, 
 All blindly surging 
 With troubles dire and dark. 
 
 Chor. We saw indeed whence flowed thy tears. 
 
 El. No more then, oh no more, 
 Entreat me where 
 
 Chor. What wouldst thou say ? 
 
 El. Where now no more shall visit me 
 Comfort of any hope of him, 
 My brother — son of my noble sire. 860 
 
 Chor. To all men death must come. 
 
 El. Even as it came to him, the hapless, 
 Amidst the tramplings of racers' hoofs — 
 
228 ELECTRA. 
 
 To encounter with dragging of dainty reins ? 
 
 Chor. Ο outrage, baffling thought ! 
 
 El. So is it, if in the land of strangers 
 His ashes rest, not by my hands entombed, 
 Neither burial nor tears having won from me. s 7 o 
 
 Chrys. Joy wings my feet, Ο sister, hitherward, 
 So that I come in haste, and heed not how : 
 For joyful news I bring, that makes an end 
 Of all thy days of sorrow and of tears. 
 
 El. How shouldst thou find help for my sorrows, thou, 
 Whereof no cure is possible to see ? 
 
 Chrys. Know, for I tell thee, Orestes is returned — 
 His very self, plain as thine eyes see me. 
 
 El. What, are you mad, you who are miserable, 
 And would you mock our sorrow, yours and mine ! sso 
 
 Chrys. No, by our father's hearth, no bitter jest 
 Is this — but fact ; he has come back to us. 
 
 El. Alas, poor fool, and from whose lips I prithee 
 Heard you this tale that you so rashly trust ? 
 
 Chrys. My own eyes told me, they alone : plain proof 
 They saw, and what they told me I believe. 
 
 El. Poor soul, what proof saw you ? what sight was this, 
 That kindled in thy heart this fatal fire ? 
 
 Chrys. 'Fore heaven, hear what I saw : that, having 
 heard, 
 Then you may deem me wise, or else a fool. 890 
 
 El. Nay then, speak on, if speaking comforts thee. 
 
ELECTRA. 229 
 
 Chrys. Forthwith I'll tell thee all that I have seen. 
 When to our father's ancient tomb I came, 
 At top of the mound libations freshly poured 
 Of milk I saw, and all the sepulchre 
 Wreathed round about with every flower that grows ; 
 And seeing it I marvelled, and I looked, 
 Lest some one should be near me, at my side ; 
 But when I saw that I was all alone, 
 Nearer the tomb I crept, and on the edge 900 
 
 Of the mound beheld a lock of hair, new-shorn ; 
 And at the sight was borne upon my soul — 
 As it were a well-known form — it seemed a sign 
 From him whom most of men I love, Orestes : 
 And in my hand I took it, and my tongue 
 Refrained, but tears of joy o'erflowed my eyes : 
 And now full well I know, as then I knew, 
 That this fair tress of hair was none but his. 
 Who else should set it there, except us twain ? 
 And 'twas not I who did it, that I know, 910 
 
 Nor thou — how shouldst thou ? when thou canst not even 
 Go forth, unchidden, to the gods to pray. 
 Our mother then ? When was she minded ever 
 To do such things ? how could she, we not knowing ? 
 But from Orestes' hand these offerings came. 
 Sister, take heart. No constant law of heaven 
 Deals to the selfsame life the selfsame doom. 
 Our lot before was bitter : but full-fraught 
 
 
230 
 
 ELECTRA. 
 
 Perchance with lasting good this day shall prove. 
 
 El. Alas thy folly : I hear thee, pitying. 92° 
 
 Chrys. How : are they not glad tidings that I bring ? 
 
 El. Thou knowest not whither, unto what dreams 
 thou'rt borne. 
 
 Chrys. Do I not know that which mine eyes have seen ? 
 
 El. Fool, he is dead : of safety as from him 
 There is an end : to him look thou no more. 
 
 Chrys. Ο hapless — from what tongue heardst thou 
 such news? 
 
 El. From one who when he died stood by and saw. 
 
 Chrys. Where is this witness ? wonder overcomes me. 
 
 El. Welcomed within — not grievous to my mother. 929 
 
 Chrys. Out and alas ! by whom then had been sent 
 Those lavish offerings to our father's tomb ? 
 
 El. Most likely, to my thinking, they were brought 
 In memory of Orestes who is dead. 
 
 Chrys. Ο luckless : and I hasted with such joy 
 Such news to bring : not knowing as it seems 
 Our plight, how woful : but, having come, I find 
 Trouble on trouble — ills both old and new. 
 
 El. So stands thy case ; but hearken now to me — 
 This weight of present woe thou soon wilt lighten. 
 
 Chrys. AVhat ? shall I bid the dead arise and live ? 940 
 
 El. Nay, there was no such folly in my thoughts. 
 
 Chrys. What wouldst thou have, that I have strength 
 to do? 
 
ELECTRA. 
 
 231 
 
 El. I'd have thee do my bidding and be bold. 
 
 Chrys. If in the doing is gain, I'll not refuse. 
 
 El. Look to it : without the striving nought succeeds. 
 
 Chrys. I see it : command my help, whate'er I can. 
 
 El. Then hearken, what to do I am resolved. 
 Thou knowest, I think, that countenance of friends 
 Now we have none : of all we had, we are 
 By death bereft — bereft, and left alone. 95 o 
 
 Now therefore I, who, while to me came news 
 My brother lived and prospered still, had hope 
 That he would come, avenger of my sire — 
 I turn, since he is gone, to whom but thee — 
 The murderer of our father bidding thee 
 With me thy sister tarry not to slay, 
 Aegisthus : for 'tis time I should speak out. 
 How long wilt thou be patient — in what hope — 
 When all our hopes are wrecked? thou who shouldst 
 
 grieve, 
 Being disinherited of thy father's wealth, 960 
 
 And shouldst lament, that, all thy life till now, 
 Thy youth is spent unwedded and unloved. 
 Nay, and to marriage hope not any more 
 Thou shalt attain : for not so void of wit 
 Is this Aegisthus, as to let children spring 
 From thee or me, a certain harm to him. 
 But, if to my advice thou dost consent, 
 I teirthee first, pious thou shalt be called 
 
232 ELECTRA. 
 
 Both by thy father and thy brother dead : 
 
 And free, as thou wast born, thou shalt be called 970 
 
 Henceforth, and worthy marriage shalt obtain, 
 
 For to the noble all men are wont to look. 
 
 Bethink thee, too, what honourable report 
 
 For thee and me, consenting, thou shalt win. 
 
 Who, countryman or stranger, seeing us, 
 
 Shall not with suchlike praises honour us — 
 
 * Behold ye these two sisters, Ο my friends, 
 
 Who wrought deliverance for their father's house, 
 
 Who against foes firm-planted in their pride 
 
 Drew sword the foremost, sparing not their lives : 980 
 
 These ye should love, these twain should all revere : 
 
 Yea, in all feasts and high solemnities 
 
 These women, brave as men, let all men praise.' 
 
 Such things of us shall everywhere be spoken; 
 
 Living or dead, our glory shall not fail. 
 
 Ο sister, then, be counselled, for thy father 
 
 Strive, for thy brother endure, and rescue me, 
 
 Rescue thyself from sorrow, minding this, 
 
 Ignoble life is shame for noble men. 
 
 Chor. For one who speaks alike and one who hears, 990 
 Forethought is helpful in such case as this. 
 
 Chrys. Were she not bent on folly, Ο my friends, 
 Ere she had spoken thus, she would have first 
 Remembered caution, which she remembers not. 
 For, on what hopes intent, dost thou so arm 
 
ELECTRA. 233 
 
 Thyself with rashness, and call me to follow ? 
 
 What, art thou blind ? Woman, not man, art thou, 
 
 And for thine enemies in strength no match. 
 
 And them their fortune prospers day by day ; 
 
 Ours ebbs and dwindles ever, and comes to nought. 1000 
 
 Who then shall think to vanquish such a man, 
 
 And yet come off unscathed, nor rue his folly ? 
 
 Look well, lest, if they hear what thou hast spoken, 
 
 Our evil plight be soon exchanged for worse. 
 
 It steads us not nor profits us at all, 
 
 To win fair fame and yet ignobly die. 
 
 For not to die is worst, but when to die 
 
 One craves, and even this he may not have. 
 
 Nay, I entreat, or ever past retrieval 
 
 We perish, and leave desolate our house, 1010 
 
 Refrain thine anger. All that thou hast spoken 
 
 Will I unsay with silence, and defeat. 
 
 But oh, thyself learn prudence, though so late, 
 
 Not to contend, so weak, with them so strong. 
 
 Chor. Hear her. For men there is no gain to get 
 Better than prudence and a sober mind. 
 
 El. Thou hast spoken nought unlooked for. Well I 
 knew, 
 Thou wouldst reject the proffer that I made, 
 But single-handed and alone this deed 
 I needs must do : it shall not go undone. 
 
 Chrys. Alas ! ■ 1020 
 
234 ELECTRA. 
 
 Would thou hadst been so minded in that day 
 
 Our father died : what might'st thou not have done ? 
 
 El. My heart was right, but feebler were my thoughts. 
 
 Chrys. Study to keep such thoughts thy whole life long. 
 
 EL This counsel purports then no help from thee, 
 
 Ch?ys. Of rash attempts disaster needs must come. 
 
 EL I praise thy wisdom, hate thy cowardice. 
 
 Chrys. Even thy praise with patience I will hear. 
 
 EL Never of me shalt thou have that to bear. 1029 
 
 Chrys. To prove that 'never' craves the coming time. 
 
 El. Begone, I say : thou art unprofitable. 
 
 Chrys. Not so : 'tis thou that art incorrigible. 
 
 EL Go, to thy mother all the tale repeat. 
 
 Chrys. Nor do I hate thee with so dire a hate. 
 
 EL But know at least how thou dishonourest me. 
 
 Chrys. Dishonour thee — not I, but care for thee. 
 
 El. And must I follow then thy rule of right ? 
 
 Chrys. For, when thou'rt wiser, then be guide to both. 
 
 EL Strange that, who speaks so well, should speak amiss. 
 
 Chrys. Thy words have hit the fault whereto thou 
 cleavest. 1040 
 
 EL How ? what I speak, seems it to thee not right ? 
 
 Chrys. But sometimes what is right is mischievous. 
 
 EL By such a law I do not choose to live. 
 
 Chrys. Persist in this, and thou shalt praise me yet. 
 
 El. Persist I shall, no whit dismayed by thee. 
 
 Chrys. Must it be so ? Wilt thou not think again ? 
 
ELECTRA. 235 
 
 EL Most hateful 'tis to think, and think amiss. 
 
 Chrys. It seems thou wilt not heed what I advise. 
 
 El. Not now, but long ago I have resolved. 1049 
 
 Chrys. I leave thee then : for neither thou my words 
 Nor I thy temper can endure to praise. 
 
 El. Why then, go in : I shall not follow thee, 
 Howe'er thou may'st desire it : since withal 
 Much folly it is to follow a fruitless quest. 
 
 Chrys. Why then, if in thine own eyes thou art 
 wise, 
 I to thy wisdom leave thee : by and by, 
 Standing in evil plight, my words thou'lt praise. 
 
 Chor. Why, though the true-hearted birds of the air 
 they see {Strophe 1. 
 
 Careful to cherish those 
 Who give them life and all good things — 
 Oh, why do men likewise 1060 
 
 A like devotion fail to pay ? 1 
 Nay, but not long delayed 
 (By the lightning flashed from the hand of Zeus, 
 By heavenly Themis, no !) 
 The day of reckoning comes. 
 Ο voice that soundest 
 To the dead beneath the earth, 
 In the ears of the sons of Atreus 
 Proclaim it there, a piteous cry 
 A joyless tale of shame: 1069 
 
236 ELECTRA. 
 
 That the strength of their house is waxen faint, \Ant. i. 
 
 And of their children now 
 
 With daily interchange of love 
 
 Discordant strife no more agrees. 
 
 Electra forsaken breasts the storm alone, 
 
 Unhappy, like the all-plaintive nightingale, 
 
 Lamenting always for her sire, 
 
 And recking not of death, 
 
 Ready to yield her life, 
 
 Might she but triumph o'er the twofold curse : ioSo 
 
 What child her nobleness shall match ? 
 
 For no one who is noble deigns [Strophe 2. 
 
 Basely to live, and cloud 
 
 With obloquy fair fame — 
 
 Ο daughter, daughter, ev'n as thou 
 
 Hast chosen all thy days 
 
 To weep with them that wept, 
 
 That so one day, when the unlovely deed 
 
 Was armed and ready, thou mightest win 
 
 A twofold praise in one, 
 
 Wise and most noble of daughters to be called. 10S9 
 
 Oh may I see thee living yet \A11tistrophe 2. 
 
 As far in might and wealth 
 
 Above thy foes, as now 
 
 Beneath their hand thy life is crushed: 
 
 Since I have found thy feet 
 
 Set in no goodly lot ; 
 
ELECTRA. 237 
 
 But, touching nature's highest laws, 
 I see thee bear away 
 
 The meed of the noblest, for that thou fearest Zeus. 
 YL Or. Ladies, have we heard true, and do we bend 
 Our steps aright, whither we fain would come ? 
 
 Chrys. What seek you, and with what intent come 
 hither ? noo 
 
 Or. To the house of Aegisthus I have asked my way. 
 
 Chrys. Your goal is reached ; your guide shall forfeit 
 nothing. 
 
 Or. Which of all you would tell to those within 
 The longed-for coming of our company ? 
 
 Chrys. This maiden, if the nearest should announce 
 it. 
 
 Or. Go, lady, and tell them in the house, that men 
 Are come from Phocis, who would see Aegisthus. 
 
 El. Out and alas ! of rumour that we heard 
 It cannot be ye bring us proofs to see ? 
 
 Or. Thy tale I know not : aged Strophius mo 
 
 Hath charged me, of Orestes to bring tidings. 
 
 El. What tidings, friend? How I grow chill with 
 fear ! 
 
 Or. He is dead : a little dust is all of him, 
 Which here, thou seest, in this small urn we bear. 
 
 El. Woe's me, now all too clear, this grief, it seems, 
 My hands may handle, and my eyes behold. 
 
 Or. If for the fate of Orestes flow thy tears, 
 
2 ;8 ELECTRA. 
 
 Know that within this urn his ashes rest. 
 
 EL Friend, in my hands, I pray thee, if it holds 
 
 Him, let me take this urn, that I may weep 1120 
 
 And wail my fill, not for this dust alone, 
 
 But for myself withal and all my house. 
 
 Or. Bring hither and give to her, whoe'er she be : 
 
 For not as one who loved him not she asks, 
 
 But either a friend, or born his kinswoman. 
 EL Ο poor last relic of Orestes' life, 
 
 Dearest of men to me, with hopes how other, 
 
 Than forth I sent, do I receive thee back ! 
 
 Now in these hands I take thee, and thou art nought ; 
 
 But beautiful and bright I sent thee forth, n 3 o 
 
 Child, from thy home. Oh would that I had died, 
 
 Or ever to a strange land I sent thee hence, 
 
 And stole thee in my arms, and saved from death, 
 
 That on that day thou mightest have lain dead, 
 
 And of thy father's tomb have earned a share. 
 
 Now, far from home, in a strange land exiled, 
 
 A woful end was thine, no sister near : 
 
 And, woe is me, I neither laved thy limbs 
 
 And decked with loving hands, nor, as was meet, 
 
 Snatched this sad burthen from the scorching fire : 1140 
 
 By hands of strangers tended thou art come, 
 
 A little handful in this little urn. 
 
 Alas me for my nursing long ago, 
 
 Unprofitable care, that with sweet pain 
 
ELECTRA. 239 
 
 I ofttimes spent for thee ; for thou wast never 
 
 Thy mother's darling, rather mine ; nor they 
 
 O' the house — but I it was, whom all were wont 
 
 Sister at once to call and nurse of thee. 
 
 Now thou art dead, and all in a day these things 
 
 Have ceased to be — all with thy passing swept 1150 
 
 As by a whirlwind hence. Thy father is gone, 
 
 And I am dead, thy sister ; and thine own life 
 
 Has past from earth. Our foes laugh us to scorn, 
 
 Our mother, nay no mother, is mad with joy : 
 
 Of whom so often thou didst send secret word, 
 
 Thou'dst come to be avenged on her ; but now 
 
 Hard fortune, thine and mine, robs me of this, 
 
 Sending me hither, in thy dear body's stead, 
 
 Mere dust and shadow of thee, and good for nought. 
 
 Ah me, alas ! n6o 
 
 Ο piteous ashes ! alas and woe is me ! 
 
 Ο sadly, strangely — 
 
 Alas, my brother ! — 
 
 Thus journeying hither, how me thou hast undone ! 
 
 Undone — undone indeed, Ο brother mine ! 
 
 Therefore to thy dark chamber take me in ; 
 
 Me, dust to dust, receive ; that I may dwell 
 
 Henceforth i' the dark with thee. For, living, I shared 
 
 With thee, and shared alike ; and now in death 
 
 Not to be sundered from thy tomb I crave, 
 
 For in the grave I see that grief is not. n 7 o 
 
24θ ELECTRA. 
 
 Chor. Mortal, Electra, bethink thee, was thy sire, 
 Orestes mortal : moderate thy grief : 
 This is a debt we all of us must pay. 
 
 Or. Alas, what shall I say? what words attempt, 
 Where all words fail ? No more can I refrain. 
 
 El. What is your trouble? W T hy have you spoken this? 
 
 Or. Is this Electra's form, far-famed of men ? 
 
 El. It is no other, in most distressful plight. 
 
 Or. Alas then for thy lamentable case ! 
 
 El. Surely, good friend, thy tears are not for me? n8o 
 
 Or. Ο form defaced with foul and impious wrong ! 
 
 El. On none but me, friend, thy reproaches light. 
 
 Or. Alas me, for thy loveless hapless life ! 
 
 El. Why dost thou bend thy weeping eyes on me ? 
 
 Or. How less than nothing of my wrongs I knew ! 
 
 El. Wherein, of what was said, discerned you this ? 
 
 Or. Reading in thy face the blazon of thy grief. 
 
 El. And yet of all my wrongs you see but few. 
 
 Or. How could there be more hateful sights than these? 
 
 El. That 'neath one roof with the murderers I 
 dwell 1 190 
 
 Or. Of whom? from whence hast thou this hint of 
 crime ? 
 
 El. My father; and me, perforce, they make their slave. 
 
 Or. Who are they that constrain thee to their will ? 
 
 El. One called my mother, no mother by her deeds. 
 
 Or. With blows, or cruelty in thy life ? Say, how ? 
 
ELECTRA. 241 
 
 El. With blows and cruelty, and every wrong. 
 Or. And hast thou none to help, and hinder this ? 
 El. Not I, for, whom I had — his dust is here. 
 Or. Ο hapless, how thy sight hath stirred my pity ! 
 El. Thou art the first that ever pitied me. 1200 
 
 Or. I am the first that ever shared thy grief. 
 El. Art thou some kinsman, that I have not known ? 
 Or. This I could answer, if these are friends who hear 
 
 me. 
 El. Yes, friends they are, whom speaking you may trust. 
 Or. Set down this urn then, and I'll tell thee all. 
 El. Friend, bid me not do this — so help thee heaven ! 
 Or. Do as I say, thou shalt not do amiss. 
 El. I do entreat thee — take not my dearest from me. 
 Or. I say thou shalt not. 
 
 El. Ah woe is me for thee, 
 
 Orestes, if thy burial is denied me. 1210 
 
 Or. Cease ; for it is not right that thou shouldst weep. 
 El. How wrong, to weep my brother who is dead ? 
 Or. 'Tis not for thee to use such words of him. 
 El. And am I so dishonoured by the dead ? 
 Or. No man dishonours thee : this is not thine. 
 El. How, if I hold the body of Orestes ? 
 Or. 'Tis none of his, save as our words have feigned it. 
 El. Where is the tomb of my most luckless brother ? 
 Or. No tomb has he ; we bury not the living. 
 El. How say you, boy ? 1220 
 
 Q 
 
242 ELECTRA. 
 
 Or. All that I say is true. 
 
 El. Orestes lives ? 
 
 Or. If there is life in me. 
 
 El. What, art thou he ? 
 
 Or. Look here upon this seal 
 
 That was my sire's, judge then if I speak true. 
 
 El. Ο blissful day ! 
 
 Or. Blissful, my heart attests ! 
 
 El. Voice, art thou come ? 
 
 Or. Come back, the voice replies. 
 
 El. Home to my arms come back ? 
 
 Or. My home henceforth. 
 
 El. Ο all ye women, my neighbours and good friends, 
 Look on this man Orestes, who was feigned 
 Dead, and by feigning is alive again. 1229 
 
 Chor. We see him, daughter; and for this happy chance 
 My eyes run over with excess of joy. 
 
 El. Dearest to me of all men ever born, 
 This hour come back to find — 
 Come back to see — me whom thy heart desired ! 
 
 Or. Yes, I am come ; but for awhile keep silence. 
 
 El. What fearest thou ? 
 
 Or. Silence is best, lest those within should hear. 
 
 El. Nay but, by maiden Artemis, 
 I shall not stoop to fear the women there, 1240 
 
 The stay-at-homes, vain cumberers of the house. 
 
 Or. But yet take note, that even in breasts of women 
 
ELECTRA. 243 
 
 May Ares lodge ; as thou too well hast proved. 
 
 El. Alas and woe is me ! 
 Thy words find out my sorrow, 
 Not to be hidden, not to be done away, 
 That never its own burthen can forget. 1250 
 
 Or. Sister, I know ; but, when occasion bids, 
 These things must then be thought on ; now, forbear. 
 
 El. All time, all time for me 
 Is present time and fit 
 To speak — and speak the truth : 
 For scarcely now my tongue at last is free. 
 
 Or. And so think I ; therefore remember this. 
 El. What must I do ? 
 
 Or. Wait ; and while time is short, let words be few. 
 El. But how, when I have found 1260 
 
 Thee, is it fit, that speech 
 For silence I should change — 
 Now, having seen thee, whom to see 
 Seemed once past thought or hope ? 
 
 Or. Then didst thou see me, when heav'n bade me 
 
 come. 
 El. Yea, for this boon beside, and best of all, 
 That heaven hath brought thee home, 
 Thank heaven, say I, for this. 1270 
 
 Or. Loth am I to restrain thy joy ; but yet 
 This overmuch rejoicing moves my fear. 
 
 EL Absent so long, but now, when time was ripe, 
 
244 ELECTRA. 
 
 Returned, Ο glad return, to bless my sight — 
 Oh see what I have borne, 
 And do not, do not now 
 
 Or. What must I not ? 
 
 El. Not take from me, nor bid me yet forego, 
 The comfort of thy face. 
 
 Or. Unmoved, I could not see another do it. 
 
 El. Dost thou consent ? 12S0 
 
 Or. How could I not ? 
 
 El. Ο friends, the voice is in my ears, 
 I had not hoped to hear. 
 [Thou wouldst not come, they said :] 
 And I refrained my speech, 
 And heard and answered not, 
 Unhappy. But I have thee now : 
 Now thy dear face hath shined on me — 
 Thy face, which not in darkest days 
 Could I again forget. 
 
 Or. All superfluity of words let go, 
 And neither tell me of my mother's sins, 
 Nor how Aegisthus drains my fathers house, 1290 
 
 And spills and spends at random all its wealth. 
 Such tale might well forbid all count of time. 
 But tell me now, what suits the present hour, 
 Where if we hide, or by appearing where, 
 Our enemies' mirth our coming shall confound : 
 And have a care thy mother note thee not 
 
ELECTRA. 2^5 
 
 With thy glad face, when we are come within : 
 
 But, as for that false tale of dire mischance, 
 
 Let thy tears flow. Not until all is well, 
 
 Shall our rejoicing or our smiles be free. 1300 
 
 El. Nay, brother, but, even as it pleases thee, 
 So also will I do : for all my joy 
 I gat not for myself, but gat from thee. 
 Nor would I choose to grieve thee ne'er so little, 
 Myself to win great gain ; for so but ill 
 Fortune, that now befriends us, should I serve. 
 But, what comes next, thou knowest. Hast thou not heard 
 Aegisthus is not now within the house, 
 Only thy mother ? and fear not thou that she 
 Will see my face lighted with joyful smiles. 1310 
 
 For my inveterate hate sticks deep in me ; 
 Nor shall I since thy coming have had time 
 To dry my gladsome tears. Must I not weep, 
 I who have seen thee in this one day come home, 
 Dead and alive ? Ο most bewildering change ! 
 Stood now my sire before me as he lived, 
 I should not deem it strange, but should believe. 
 Now therefore, wondrously as thou art come, 
 Command me as thou wilt : since I alone 
 Of two things had not failed ; for either nobly 1320 
 
 I should have saved myself, or nobly died. 
 
 Chor. Keep silence ; for I hear steps at the door 
 Of some one coming out. 
 
246 ELECTRA. 
 
 EL So, friends, go in ; 
 
 Bearing withal a gift that may not be 
 Rejected — no, nor yet a welcome gift. 
 
 Ped. Ο ye most foolish and of sense bereft — 
 What, do ye tender now your lives so cheap, 
 Or are of native prudence so devoid — 
 When now ye stand, not on the brink of danger, 
 But in the peril's midst, and do not know it ? 133 
 
 Nay, had not I kept watch here all the time 
 Close by the doors, your business would have been 
 About the house ere you yourselves were there : 
 But I bestowed the caution that ye lacked. 
 And now of many words make brief despatch, 
 And of this noisy and insatiate joy, 
 And enter quick : for in such work as this 
 To linger is to lose ; this craves despatch. 
 
 Or. And having entered — can I then proceed ? 133? 
 
 Ped. You can : secure, that you are known to none. 
 
 Or. I think that you have told them of my death. 
 
 Ped. You in the house are numbered with the dead. 
 
 Or. Is this glad news to them ? how took they it ? 
 
 Ped. I'll tell thee that to end with ; as it is, 
 All that they do is well, although not well. 
 
 El. I pray you, brother, tell me, who is this ? 
 
 Or. You know him not ? 
 
 EL I know not, nor can guess. 
 
 Or. Do you not know to whom you gave me once ? 
 
ELECTRA. 247 
 
 El. What say you ? who ? 
 
 Or. He who, as you devised, 
 
 Conveyed me hence to Phocis in his arms. 1350 
 
 El. Can this be he, whom when my sire was slain 
 Alone of all men I found faithful still ? 
 
 Or. 'Tis even he : be brief and ask no more. 
 
 El. Ο kindly light, and one deliverer 
 
 Of Agamemnon's house, how came you here ? 
 
 And are you he who saved us at the worst ? 
 
 Ο dearest hands, Ο thou whose feet were sweet 
 
 ; 
 And serviceable, how hast thou talked with me 
 
 Unknown and undiscovered, and thy words 
 
 Did slay me, but thy deeds were sweet to me ? 1360 
 
 Hail, father ; for in my eyes thou seem'st no less : 
 
 All hail — and know that in this selfsame day 
 
 Thee most of men I hated and I loved. 
 
 Fed. Let this suffice : the story of the past — 
 Many revolving nights and days shall serve 
 To talk this over, and make all things plain. 
 But now why stand ye here ? this is the time 
 For deeds ; now Clytaemnestra is alone, 
 No man is now within ; but, if ye loiter, 
 Bethink you that with these ye'll have to fight, 1370 
 
 And better men than these, no equal fight. 
 
 Or. Now, Pylades, not many words of us 
 This work should crave, but in the house forthwith 
 To enter, meet obeisance having paid 
 
248 ELECTKA. 
 
 To the shrines of the gods, who keep my father's 
 doors. 
 
 El. To these, Apollo, lend a gracious ear 
 To these and me, who oftentimes have thee 
 With suppliant hand entreated of my best ; 
 And now, bright god, Apollo, of all I have 
 I pray thee, I entreat thee, I implore, 1380 
 
 Oh prosper thou our handiwork to-day, 
 That men may know, when impious deeds are done, 
 From righteous heaven what retribution falls. 
 
 Chor. See there how step by step \Strophe. 
 
 Goes Ares to his work, 
 And from his nostrils breathes 
 Resistless slaughter forth. 
 Beneath the roof of the house ev'n now 
 The swift inevitable hounds are gone, 
 Following fast on the scent of sin : 
 Nor long the dream of my heart shall tarry, 
 Hovering doubtfully. 1390 
 
 For now the avenger of the slain \Anttstrophe. 
 
 With stealthy pace into the house 
 Follows as he is led — 
 
 The ancient stately halls of his father enters — 
 With keen-edged murder in his hands : 
 And Hermes, son of Maia, leads him in, 
 Who with concealment wraps him round, 
 And to his goal conducts him straight, 
 
ELECTRA. 249 
 
 And tarries not. 
 
 EL Ο dearest women, while I speak, ev'n now 
 I > They are about it : but in silence wait. 
 
 CJwr. Say, how ? what do they now ? 1400 
 
 EL She decks the urn 
 
 For burial, and they stand over her. 
 
 Chor. Why came you forth ? 
 
 EL I must keep watch, for fear 
 
 Without our knowing Aegisthus should come in. 
 
 Clyt. (wit/mt.) Alas ! — Ο house 
 Void of all friends and full of murderers ! 
 
 EL Some one in the house cries out. Friends, do ye 
 hear ? 
 
 Chor. I heard and shuddered, and shut my ears for 
 horror. 
 
 Clyt. Ah woe is me ! Aegisthus, where art thou ? 
 
 EL Again one cries, and loudly. μ 10 
 
 Clyt. Ο son, my son, 
 
 Have pity on thy mother. 
 
 EL But not from thee 
 
 Did this thy son find pity, nor his sire. 
 
 CJior. Ο city, Ο hapless house, 
 The fate that dogged thee day by day, 
 Is dying, is dying now ! 
 
 Clyt. Ah, I am stricken. 
 
 EL Strike, if thou canst, again. v 
 
 Clyt. Ah me again ! 
 
250 ELECTRA. 
 
 El. Would that it were ' Ah for Aegisthus ' too ! 
 
 Chor. The curse fulfils itself: the dead live still. 
 They who were slain long since 
 
 Drain from the slayer the blood 1420 
 
 Ordained for blood to flow. 
 Lo here come they, with hands 
 Blood-red, that reek of sacrifice 
 To Ares, so as no words can tell. 
 
 El. Orestes, how have ye sped ? 
 
 Or. Here in the house 
 
 Well, if Apollo's oracle spake well. 
 
 El. Dead is the guilty one ? 
 
 Or. Fear not henceforth 
 
 Thy mother's pride shall flout thee any more. 
 
 Chor. Cease, for I see Aegisthus full in view. 1429 
 
 El. Rash boys, will ye not back ? 
 
 Or. Where see ye hiiri ? 
 
 El. From the suburbs of the city, lo in our power — 
 He comes, exulting. 
 
 Chor. For the vestibule 
 
 Make with what speed ye may ; that, having now 
 Besto\ved the first work well, so may ye this. 
 
 Or. Fear not : we shall not fail. 
 
 El. Haste, where thou'rt going. 
 
 Or. See, I am gone. 
 
 El. What's here, belongs to me. 
 
 Chor. In this man's ear a few 
 
ELECTRA. 251 
 
 Soft words were not amiss : 
 
 That he may blindly close 1440 
 
 And grapple with his doom. 
 
 Aeg. Which of all you knows of the Phocian strangers, 
 Who, as I hear, came hither to announce 
 Orestes slain amidst the chariots wrecked ? 
 You there, 'tis you shall tell me : you who were 
 So bold before : methinks it should concern 
 You most ; you best should know, and tell me this. 
 
 El. I know ; else were I careless of the woes 
 Of her who is of all my friends to me 
 Most near. 1450 
 
 Aeg. Then tell me where they are. 
 
 El. In the house : 
 
 To the heart of their hostess they have found their way. 
 
 Aeg. Do they in very truth report his death ? 
 
 El. No mere report they bring, but show him dead. 
 
 Aeg. May then my eyes inform me of the truth ? 
 
 El. They may indeed, and 'tis a sorry sight. 
 
 Aeg. Such joyful greeting you are not wont to give. 
 
 El. Of this your joyful news I give you joy. 
 
 Aeg. But now be silent, and throw wide the gates, 
 And let all Argos and Mycenae see, 
 That, whoso buoyed themselves with empty hopes 1460 
 Of this man's life, now seeing he is dead, 
 May take my bit in their mouths, and not perforce 
 Get wisdom, getting chastisement from me. 
 
ELECTRA. 
 
 El. Forthwith my part is done ; for now at last 
 I have learnt to do the bidding of my betters. 
 
 Aeg. Zeus, 'twas thy wrath whereby this sight befell : 
 But be the word unsaid, if it offends. 
 Take off the face-cloth from the face ; this life 
 Was near to mine, and claims some grief from me. 
 
 Or. Lift it thyself: thine office this, not mine, 1470 
 To look, and speak kind speech to what lies here. 
 
 Aeg. Well said, and as you say I'll do : meanwhile 
 Go call me Clytaemnestra through the house. 
 
 Or. She is beside thee : look not far off for her. 
 
 Aeg. What sight is this ? 
 
 Or. So scared ? Is the face strange ? 
 
 Aeg. Who are the men, into whose net I have 
 Thus helpless fallen ? 
 
 Or. Hast thou not yet discerned, 
 
 Thou dost accost the living as the dead ? 
 
 Aeg. Ah — so I read thy riddle. Orestes surely — 
 He and no other it is, who speaks to me. i 4 So 
 
 Or. So wise a prophet, and yet fooled so long ? 
 
 Aeg. Oh lost, undone ! Yet suffer me to speak 
 A word, no more. 
 
 El. In heaven's name, my brother, 
 
 Let him say no word more, nor waste the time, 
 Talking. When men must grapple with their fate, 
 What gain of time to one condemned to die ? 
 But straightway slay him, and fling his body forth 
 
ELECTRA. 253 
 
 To find such burial as 'tis meet it should — 
 
 Out of our sight. For this and nothing else 
 
 For all my wrongs of old can make amends. 1490 
 
 Or. With speed get thee within : the issue now 
 For thee is not of words, but of thy life. 
 
 Aeg. What need of darkness, if this deed is fair ? 
 Why lead me in, not strike at once and here ? 
 
 Or. Dictate not, but come with me where thou slewest 
 Our father, that ev'n there thy blood may flow. 
 
 Aeg. Is it ordained these walls must see all woes 
 O' the house of Pelops, now and in time to come ? 
 
 Or. Thine must they : perfect prophet am I of that. 
 
 Aeg. The art you boast derives not from your father. 
 
 Or. You bandy words ; our going is delayed : 1501 
 Set forth. 
 
 Aeg. Lead, you. 
 
 Or. 'Tis you must go the first. 
 
 Aeg. Lest I should fly from thee ? 
 
 Or. Rather lest thou 
 
 Shouldst choose the fashion of thy death. I needs 
 Must keep death's bitterness, perfect for thee. 
 Would that, for all, this justice tarried not ; 
 Whoever dares to deal in lawless deeds, 
 For that man, death. So should not crimes abound. 
 
 Chor. Ο house of Atreus, how from all thy griefs 
 Now into freedom's light thou hast leapt at last, 
 Crowned by this day's emprise ! 1510 
 
TRACHINIAE 
 
PERSONS. 
 
 Heracles. 
 
 Hyllus. 
 
 Messenger. 
 
 Lichas. 
 
 Old Man. 
 
 Deianeira. 
 
 I ole. {Mute) 
 
 Nurse. 
 
 Attendant. 
 
 Chorus of Trachinian Maidens. 
 
Ctaclrimae. 
 
 Dei. r I "HERE is a saying, time-honoured 
 ■*- among men, 
 That of a man's life, till the day he dies, 
 Whether it be good or evil, none may know : 
 But what mine is, how troublesome and sad, 
 I know, or ever to death's doors I come ; 
 Who, dwelling still in Pleuron with my father, 
 Oeneus, of marriage had such grievous fear 
 As never any Aetolian maiden had — 
 For a god of a river wooed me, Achelous, 
 And ever came to ask me of my sire, 10 
 
 Visibly, in three shapes — a bull, and now 
 A shining coiling snake, and now man-trunked, 
 Ox-headed, and ever from a shaggy beard 
 Streams of his fountain's water flowed abroad — 
 Such suitor entertaining, I, ill-starred, 
 Prayed still that I might die, or ever a bride 
 To such a couch I should be brought anear. 
 But then, Ο glad deliverance long delayed, 
 Came that great son Alcmena bare to Zeus : 
 Issue of battle with the monster joined 20 
 
253 TRACHINIAE. 
 
 He, my preserver. How they toiling fought, 
 
 I cannot say — I know not : whoso there 
 
 Sat fearless of that sight, may tell the tale. 
 
 For me — I sat with terror all amazed, 
 
 Lest my fair face should win me only grief. 
 
 But Zeus, who ruled the fight, ordained it well — 
 
 If well : for since to Heracles I clave, 
 
 His chosen bride, fear after fear I nurse, 
 
 Careful for him. For one night brings a trouble, -^ 
 
 And next night with a new one thrusts it forth. 3 
 
 And we have children, whom erewhile he saw 
 
 As sees the husbandman some field far off, 
 
 At seed-time, and in harvest, and no more: 
 
 Such life was his, that to and from his home 
 
 Upon a master's errands sent him still: 
 
 But now that he has vanquished all those toils, 
 
 Now most of all I have great cause to fear. 
 
 For, since he slew the might of Iphitus, 
 
 I here in Trachis live a banished life, 
 
 Lodged with a stranger ; and of him no man 4 
 
 Knows, where he is. But, that he comes not, this 
 
 Lays to my heart full many a bitter pang. 
 
 Nay, I am sure some harm hath taken him : 
 
 For no brief time hath he been gone, but ten 
 
 Whole months and other five, and sent no word. 
 
 Some dreadful harm, I know : of such a purport 
 
 The writing that he left, which oftentimes 
 
TRACHINIAE. 259 
 
 I pray the gods, boding no grief, I took. 
 
 Serv. My mistress, Deianeira, I have heard thee 
 Often before with groaning and with tears 50 
 
 Lamenting for this absence of my lord : 
 Now, if one may with wisdom of a slave 
 Admonish ears free-born, let me say this : 
 How, being so rich in many sons, of these 
 Sendest thou none to seek thy husband forth ; 
 And chiefly Hyllus, whom 'twere fit, if he 
 Cared of his father's prospering to think ? 
 And to the house himself with timely step 
 Comes bounding : now, if I seem to thee to speak 
 A word in season, use my speech, and him. 60 
 
 Dei. Ο child, my son, from humble lips I see 
 Advice may fitly fall. See now this woman : 
 A slave is she, but no slave's word has spoken. 
 
 Hyll. What ? Tell me, mother, if I may be told. 
 
 Dei. That, of thy father tarrying so long 
 Not learning where he tarries, thou art shamed. 
 
 Hyll. Nay but I know, if what is told is truth. 
 
 Dei. Where, Hyllus, hast thou heard that he abides ? 
 
 Hyll. Last year, they say, the twelve long toilsome 
 months, 
 He was the bondsman of a Lydian woman. ηο 
 
 Dei. Nought may we not hear, if he suffered this. 
 
 Hyll. But now from this, I hear, he is released. 
 
 Dei. Where now is news of him, living or dead ? 
 
26o TRACHINIAE. 
 
 Hyll. War in Euboea he makes or still intends, 
 Men say, against the city of Eurytus. 
 
 Dei. Knowest thou then, my son, of this same land 
 What certain oracles he left with me ? 
 
 Hyll. What are they, mother? I know not what 
 
 thou sayest. 
 Dei. That either he shall end his life, or else, 
 Achieving this last labour, shall henceforth 80 
 
 For all his time to come lead blissful days. 
 Then, whilst his fate so trembles in the scales, 
 AVilt thou not go to aid him, now that we 
 Are saved if he be safe, or lost with him ? 
 
 Hyll. Nay, mother, I will go ; and, had I known 
 What was foretold, I had been there long since. 
 Only his constant fortune suffered me not 
 To fear for him, nor overmuch to doubt. 
 Now that I know, trust me, I shall not spare 90 
 
 Pains in the quest, until I find the truth. 
 
 Dei. Go then, my son. Good news, though it 
 come late, 
 So it might come at last, is fraught with gain. 
 
 Chor. Thee, whom the starry night, \Strophe 1. 
 
 Beneath the spoiler's hand 
 Breathing her last, brings forth, 
 Whom then she lays to sleep, 
 Thee, Sun-god, thee, bright-burning, I implore — 
 Oh tell me of Alcmena's son, 
 
TRACHINIAE. 261 
 
 Ο thou, whose rays are as the lightnings bright, 
 Where, where he dwelleth — 
 Defiles of the Aegean threading, 
 Or from mid-strait beholding either continent — 100 
 
 Oh tell me, god of keenest sight ! 
 For with an ever-hungry heart, they say, \Ant. 1. 
 Fair Deianeira, she for whom the suitors strove, 
 Like some unhappy bird, 
 Lulls never into tearless sleep 
 That hunger of her eyes : 
 But unforgetful fear 
 For him, her absent lord, 
 She entertaining pines 
 Upon her widowed couch of care, no 
 
 Ill-starred, foreboding all distressful chance. 
 For as, before the untiring blast of South or North, [Sir. 2. 
 Across the boundless sea 
 We watch the march of waves 
 That come, and ever come, 
 Even so upon this son of Cadmus' house attends, 
 His hard life's toilsomeness 
 Increasing more and more, 
 Of troubles a Cretan sea. 
 But from the halls of death 
 Some god restrains his feet, 
 Suffering them not to stray. 120 
 
 Therefore I chide thee, and this word \Ant. 2. 
 
202 TRACHINIAE. 
 
 Of contradiction, not ungrateful, I will speak. 
 I say thou dost not well 
 To kill the better hope. 
 For think, a lot exempt from pain 
 The son of Cronos, king who governs all, 
 
 Ordained not for men. 
 To all men sorrow and joy alternate come, 
 Revolving, as in heaven 
 The twisting courses of the Bear. 130 
 
 For neither starry night \Epode. 
 
 Abides with men, nor death, nor wealth — 
 But quickly it is gone, 
 And now another learns 
 The changeful tale of joy and loss. 
 Therefore I counsel thee, the queen, 
 To keep this ever in thy hopes : 
 For when was Zeus so careless for his sons ? 140 
 Dei. Ye come, I must conjecture, having heard 
 My trouble ; but, how the trouble eats my heart, 
 Ye know not — may ye not by suffering learn. 
 In such a well-fenced place, in native soil, 
 The tender plant grows, where no sun may scorch, 
 Nor rain nor any wind is rough with it ; 
 Upward a painless pleasant life it lifts — 
 Until such time the maiden is called a wife, 
 And in a night her share of trouble comes, 
 By husband or by children made afraid. 150 
 
TRACHINIAE. 263 
 
 Then, by your own experience taught, the grief 
 
 That at my heart is heavy ye may know. 
 
 For many sorrows have I often wept : 
 
 One now, whose like was never, I shall tell. 
 
 When on his latest journey Heracles 
 
 My lord went forth from home, then in the house 
 
 He left an ancient tablet, all inscribed 
 
 With such a writing as he deigned not else, 
 
 In all his rash outgoings, to reveal, 
 
 But went as if to victory, not death. 
 
 Now, like a man as good as dead, my portion 
 
 He bade me choose, and meted to his sons 
 
 Land for their heritage, his share to each, 
 
 Fixing a time, that, when he had been gone 
 
 Three months beyond the circle of a year, 
 
 Then either it was destined he should die, 
 
 Or having passed this crisis of his fate 
 
 Thence to the end should live a life unvexed. 
 
 Such issue of the toils of Heracles 
 
 He showed to me, issue by heaven ordained — 
 
 So by the voice of its twin doves, he said, 
 
 Dodona's ancient oak had spoken it. 
 
 And now waits confirmation of its truth 
 
 The voice prophetic, and the hour is come. 
 
 So that sometimes, Ο friends, from pleasant sleep 
 
 I start in fear — afraid, if I must live 
 
 My days out, widowed of the best of men. 
 
264 TRACHINIAE. 
 
 Chor. Cease thine ill-omened words ; for hither comes 
 One garlanded, as bearing joyful news. 
 
 Mess. Queen Deianeira, I first of messengers 180 
 
 Free thee from fear. Know that Alcmena's son 
 Both lives and triumphs, and from battle brings 
 Firstfruits of victory to his country's gods. 
 
 Dei. Old man, what tidings hast thou told to me ? 
 
 Mess. That hither to thy doors will come full soon, 
 Illustrious, crowned with victory, thy lord. 
 
 Dei. Who, citizen or stranger, told thee this ? 
 
 Afess. Lichas the herald proclaims it in the fields, 
 Our summer pastures, in the ears of many. 
 I heard and hasted, that, announcing first 190 
 
 Such news, I might have guerdon — thanks to boot. 
 
 Dei. Why comes he not himself, who brings glad 
 news ? 
 
 Mess.. 'Tis not so easy, lady, all at once. 
 For round him all our Melian people press 
 Questioning, and he cannot move a step. 
 Their eagerness, each hungering to hear all, 
 Will not release him till they're satisfied. 
 So for their pleasure, not his own, with them 
 He tarries : soon thou'lt see him, face to face. 
 
 Dei. Zeus, of the unmown lawns of Oeta lord, 200 
 
 Joy long-delayed at last thou givest me. 
 Within the house, ye women, and beyond 
 The court, proclaim it — with what light new-risen 
 
TRACHIN1AE. 265 
 
 I bless myself, light of glad news unhoped. 
 Chor. Shout clamorously to all the house 
 
 With joyful cries about the hearth, 
 
 Ο maidens — and let sound therewith 
 Consenting voice of men — 
 Apollo our protector, 
 With his fair quiver, praise : 
 
 Withal a paean, girls, a paean lift — 
 
 To Artemis, his sister, cry aloud, 
 
 Ortygian, huntress of the stag, 
 Who holds in either hand a torch, 
 And to the neighbour Nymphs — 
 The passion lifts me — now, 
 Now not the maddening flute 
 Will I refuse to hear, 
 Ο tyrant of my heart ! 
 Euoe ! 
 See how the ivy stirs my blood — 
 How it constrains me suddenly 
 With Bacchanals to vie. 
 Joy, joy, Ο Paean ! 
 See, see, dear lady, now 
 The joyful news takes shape, 
 And greets thee face to face. 
 Dei. Yea, friends, I see, nor had my eyes so ill 
 
 Kept watch, not to descry this company. — 
 
 Welcome, Ο herald, whose coming, long-delayed, 
 
266 TRACHINIAE. 
 
 Is joyful, if indeed thou bearest news. 
 
 Lick. Well are we come, Ο lady, and are greeted 
 Well, as our deeds have earned ; — since, who indeed 230 
 Prospers, he cannot fail to win good words. 
 
 Dei. Ο best of friends, first what I first would know — 
 Shall I receive my Heracles alive ? 
 
 Lick. I left him strong enough, I warrant him — 
 Living and hale, plagued with no sickness, he. 
 
 Dei. Upon Greek soil, or foreign ? tell me this. 
 
 Lick. There's an Euboean headland, where he 
 traces 
 Altars to Zeus Cenaean, and fruitful dues. 
 
 Dei. Paying some vow, or warned by oracles ? 
 
 Lich. A vow in battle, when he stormed and 
 sacked 240 
 
 The city of these maidens, whom thou seest. 
 
 Dei. And these — I prithee, whose are they, and 
 who ? 
 Piteous — unless their plight deceives my heart. 
 
 Lich. Of the plunder of the city of Eurytus, 
 These for himself and for the gods he chose. 
 
 Dei. Was it before this city that he spent 
 All the incredible time, past count of days ? 
 
 Lich. Not so : most part of it he was detained 
 In Lydia — by his own account, not free, 
 But sold and bought. Nor let the word offend, 250 
 
 When Zeus appears the author of the thing. 
 
TRACHINIAE. 267 
 
 So a full year, as he himself avers, 
 
 He served the barbarous woman Omphale, 
 
 And the reproach so stung him to the heart 
 
 He laid an oath upon his soul and swore 
 
 The man who brought this trouble on his head 
 
 One day with wife and child he would enslave : 
 
 Nor idly spake — but, when his hands were clean, 
 
 Gathered a foreign host against the town 
 
 Of Eurytus. For Eurytus, he said, 260 
 
 Had had sole share in working him this woe : 
 
 Who with his voice, and with a spiteful heart, 
 
 Railed oft against him, when he came a guest — 
 
 Guest as of old into the friendly house — 
 
 That he, with those inevitable shafts, 
 
 Was yet in bow-craft for his sons no match — 
 
 And called him slave of a free master, cowed 
 
 And broken : last, at a banquet, hot with wine, 
 
 Had cast him from his doors. Therefore in rage, 
 
 When to the hill of Tiryns Iphitus 270 
 
 Came, following after horses that had strayed, 
 
 Him from the smooth top of the towering cliff, 
 
 Whilst one way went his eyes, his thoughts another, 
 
 My master flung. But for this deed the king, 
 
 Olympian Zeus, the Sire of all, being wroth, 
 
 Drave him a bondsman forth, nor suffered him, 
 
 Because this man alone of men he slew 
 
 By guile. For, open vengeance had he wreaked, 
 
258 TRACHINIAE. 
 
 Zeus had allowed the violent deed as just : 
 
 Since gods no more than men love insolence. 280 
 
 But now they all, rank tongues and riotous, 
 
 Themselves are lodged in Hades, and their town 
 
 Enslaved ; so that these maidens whom thou seest, 
 
 From prosperous fallen upon evil days, 
 
 Come here to thee. Such charge thy lord enjoined, 
 
 And I, obedient to his word, fulfil. 
 
 Himself, when to his Sire for victory 
 
 The sacrifice is paid that clears his vow, 
 
 Expect to come. For this, of all the long 
 
 Glad story, is the sweetest word to hear. 290 
 
 Chor. Now, lady, is thy joy made manifest, 
 Part present, and thou nearest of the rest. 
 
 Dei. Hearing this news of all my lord's success, 
 How should I not rejoice, who am true wife ? 
 Needs must they go together, this and that. 
 Yet shall the prudent still find cause to fear, 
 Lest he who prospers now may sometime fall. 
 Friends, through my heart a pang of pity went, 
 Beholding these unhappy, fatherless 
 And homeless, outcasts in an alien land, 300 
 
 Who erst belike were children of free men, 
 But now a slave's life is the life they have. 
 Zeus, may I never — Averter of the ill — 
 See thee so visit any child of mine : 
 Be it, if it must be, not till I am gone. 
 
TRACHINIAE. 269 
 
 Such fears arise in me, beholding these. 
 
 Thou hapless girl — speak, tell me who thou art ? 
 
 Say, art thou maid or mother ? By thy looks 
 
 All inexperienced of such things thou art, 
 
 And noble. Lichas, whose daughter is the maiden ? 310 
 
 Who was her mother ? what her father's name ? 
 
 Speak out : for her I pity most of all, 
 
 Beholding her, of all most quick to feel. 
 
 Lick. Nay, what know I ? Why ask you me ? Belike 
 Not of the meanest of the land her birth. 
 
 Dei. AVas she the king's ? Had Eurytus a daughter ? 
 
 Lick. I know not, for I asked few questions, I. 
 
 Dei. Hast not from her companions heard her 
 name ? 
 
 Lick. Not I : I did my task, nor wasted words. 
 
 Dei. Speak, hapless maiden, freely speak to me : 320 
 'Tis pity not to know thee, who thou art. 
 
 Licit. Nought like her former mood, I wot, 'twill be, 
 If now she should prove liberal of her tongue ; 
 Who spake no \vord before, or much or little, 
 But ever travailing with her weight of grief 
 Weeps, and still weeps, unhappy, since she left 
 Her windy home. Yet fortune, howso hard 
 On her it be, not therefore is to blame. 
 
 Dei. Suffer her then, and let her go within 
 As suits her best, nor may she at my hands 330 
 
 To crown her present ills find grief on grief: 
 
27o TRACHINIAE. 
 
 Enough is that she has. And let us all 
 Go in, that you may haste whereso you list, 
 And I may make all ready in the house. 
 
 Mess. Ay, but first tarry awhile, that you may learn, 
 Now these are gone, whom to your hearth you lead, 
 And things unheard may hear, that should be known. 
 For of these matters I am well apprised. 
 
 Dei. What is it? Why stand you thus to bid me 
 stay ? 339 
 
 Mess. Stand still and hear me. Not my former speech 
 For nought you heard, nor this, I think, shall hear. 
 
 Dei. Shall we then call those others back again, 
 Or is thy mind to speak to these and me ? 
 
 Mess. To these and thee nought hinders : they may go. 
 
 Dei. Well, they are gone : now let thy say be said. 
 
 Mess. This man told now his tale, as using not 
 Straightforward truth ; but either now is knave, 
 Or else before was no true messenger. 
 
 Dei. How say'st thou ? Tell me plainly all thy 
 drift : 
 What thou hast spoken is a dark speech to me. 350 
 
 Mess. I heard this man declare, loud in the ears 
 Of many men, that for this maiden's sake 
 Eurytus and Oechalia's lofty tower 
 Did Heracles o'erthrow, nor other god 
 Than Eros charmed him to these martial feats — 
 Of slavish toil for Lydian Omphale, 
 
TRACHINIAE. 271 
 
 Or headlong death of Iphitus, no word — 
 
 So changed the story now, with Love left out. 
 
 And, when her father would not give consent, 
 
 Nor yield the maiden for a concubine, 360 
 
 Some trivial accusation he contrived, 
 
 And brought an army against her land, and there, 
 
 Said Lichas, sits on the throne of Eurytus, 
 
 Having the king her father slain, and sacked 
 
 Her city. And now he sends her, as thou seest, 
 
 Before him hither — not without a purpose, 
 
 Lady, nor as a slave — expect it not — 
 
 It is not likely, if he glows with love. 
 
 So it seemed good to me to show thee all, 
 
 Ο queen, that I myself have heard from him. 37 o 
 
 And this did many in the mid-marketplace 
 
 Of Trachis hear along with me, and can 
 
 Convict him. I am sorry if my words 
 
 Grieve thee : but I have told thee all the truth. 
 
 Dei. Ah me, ill-starred ! In what plight stand I 
 now ? 
 What veiled insidious plague beneath my roof 
 Have I received ? Ο hapless — is she then 
 So nameless, as he swore who brought her here ? 
 
 Mess. Splendid her beauty and her birth alike — 
 Daughter of Eurytus, Iole by name, 380 
 
 She used to be, whose lineage he forsooth, 
 Because he never asked it, could not tell. 
 
2-2 TRACHINIAE. 
 
 Chor. Perish — I say not all ill-doers, but who 
 Practise with guile ill deeds that should not be ! 
 
 Dei. Ah, friends, what must I do ? this latest news 
 Hath sounded in my ears bewilderingly. 
 
 Chor. Go in and question him ■ since, with constraint 
 If thou shouldst ask, belike he'll tell thee all. 
 
 Dei. There's purpose in thy counsel. I will go. 389 
 
 Chor. And we — shall we remain ? or what do next ? 
 
 Dei. Remain : for here, self-summoned from the 
 house, 
 He comes, called by no messengers of mine. 
 
 Lich. What word, Ο lady, shall I bear my lord ? 
 Tell me, since I am going, as you see. 
 
 Dei. Much haste you make to go, who slowly 
 came — 
 Nor give me time to talk your tidings o'er. 
 
 Lich. If aught you would ask further, here I stand. 
 
 Dei. Hold you the honesty of speaking truth ? 
 
 Lich. Be Zeus my witness, whatso truth I know. 
 
 Dei. Who is this maiden, then, you have brought 
 hither ? 400 
 
 Lich. Euboean born : her name I cannot tell. 
 
 Mess. Sirrah, look here at me. Whom speak you to ? 
 
 Lich. You — might I know, why you have asked me 
 this ? 
 
 Mess. Answer my question, if your prudence dares. 
 
 Lich. To the most royal Deianeira, daughter 
 
TRACHINIAE. 273 
 
 Of Oeneus, wife of Heracles, unless 
 
 My eyes have played me false, and to my mistress. 
 
 Mess. Precisely this I wished to know. Your 
 mistress 
 You call this lady ? 
 
 Lick. Yes, as in justice bound. 
 
 Mess. How then? What, think you, are your just 
 deserts, 410 
 
 If you have dealt unjustly — you, with her ? 
 
 Lick. Unjustly — how? What cunning speech is 
 this? 
 
 Mess. 'Tis none. The cunning speeches come from 
 you. 
 
 Lick. I must be gone. Fool, to have tarried thus ! 
 
 Mess. One question you shall answer, ere you go. 
 
 Lich. You have a tongue : what is it that you want ? 
 
 Mess. The captive whom you brought into the house — 
 I think you know her? 
 
 Lich. Yes : why do you ask ? 
 
 Mess. Did you not call her daughter of Eurytus, 
 Iole ? whom now you see, and know her not. 420 
 
 Lich. Yea, to what audience ? Who and where's the 
 man, 
 Attests you, he was there and heard me say it ? 
 
 Mess. Many of our townsmen heard it — all the crowd 
 In the mid-marketplace of Trachis gathered. 
 
 Lich. Yes — this I said that I had heard. To quote 
 
274 TRACHINIAE. 
 
 Opinion is not to affirm the fact. 
 
 Mess. Opinion ! Said you not upon your oath 
 You brought her to be wife to Heracles ? 
 
 Lich. I said I brought her for his wife ? Dear lady, 
 I pray you, tell me, who this person is. 43° 
 
 Mess. One, sirrah, who heard you say, that for her 
 beauty 
 A city fell — which not the Lydian woman, 
 But love of her, outbreaking, overthrew. 
 
 Lich. Let him go hence, good lady : for indeed 
 Sane men prate not with madmen, such as he. 
 
 Dei. By Zeus I charge thee, whose clear lightnings 
 shine 
 Down the high glens of Oeta, keep back nought. 
 To one not evil-natured wilt thou speak, 
 One who knows well, 'tis human to rejoice 
 Not in the same delight continually. 440 
 
 I know, they are not wise, who set themselves 
 To fight with Love, challenging him to blows. 
 For even gods he governs as he will ; 
 And me — why not another, weak like me ? 
 Oh, if I blame my husband that he suffers 
 This madness, mad indeed am I myself; 
 Or blame this maiden, cause with him of that 
 Which causes me no shame, does me no wrong. 
 I cannot blame. But now, if taught of him 
 You lie, no noble lesson have you learned ; 450 
 
TRACHINIAE. 275 
 
 Or, if you school yourself, take heed lest then 
 
 You be found cruel, when you would be kind. 
 
 Nay, tell me all the truth. To be called false 
 
 Is for free men no honourable lot. 
 
 That you should 'scape discovery, cannot be : 
 
 Many are they who heard you, and will speak. 
 
 And, if you are afraid, you fear amiss : 
 
 For, not to know — this would afflict me ; but 
 
 Fear not my knowing : hath not Heracles 
 
 Loved many another — most of all men he ? 460 
 
 And never any of them bore from me 
 
 Harsh word or gibe ; nor shall, howe'er she be 
 
 Consumed with love, this maiden ; nay, for her 
 
 Most of them all I pity, having seen 
 
 That 'twas her beauty that made waste her life — 
 
 Poor soul, who sacked, unwitting, and enslaved 
 
 The city of her home. But now I charge thee — 
 
 Heed not what winds blow whither — but be false 
 
 To others if thou wilt, to me speak truth. 469 
 
 Chor. Obey good counsel. Cause thou shalt not find 
 To blame this lady, and shalt have thanks of me. 
 
 Lick. Nay then, dear mistress, since I see, being human, 
 Thou hast a human heart, that knows to feel, 
 I will keep nothing back, but tell thee all. 
 For so indeed it is, as this man says. 
 Huge passion for this maid smote through and through 
 My lord, and for her sake the ruined town, 
 
276 TRACHINIAE. 
 
 Her home Oechalia, fell beneath his spear. 
 
 And this — so much for him I needs must say — 
 
 He nor himself denied nor bade conceal ; 480 
 
 But I, Ο lady, who feared to grieve thy heart 
 
 With telling of these tidings, I alone 
 
 Have sinned, if sin thou holdest it, in this. 
 
 But, now that all the story thou hast heard, 
 
 Both for his sake and for thine own no less, 
 
 Suffer the maiden, and let concerning her 
 
 The words that thou hast spoken bind thee still. 
 
 For, as no triumph he hath not won save this, 
 
 So for her love no bondage he'd not bear. 
 
 Dei. My thoughts, to do thy bidding, are as thine ; 490 
 I shall not wage weak strife with gods, and win 
 My neighbours' plagues for mine. Go we indoors : 
 That thou may'st bear a message to my lord, 
 And gifts for gifts, a fit and fair exchange, 
 May'st carry. Empty shalt thou not go hence, 
 Who earnest hither with such a goodly train. 
 
 Chor. Great strength from victory \Strophe. 
 
 Doth Cypris ever bear away. 
 I stay not now to speak of gods, 
 And how the son of Cronos she beguiled 
 
 I spare to tell, 500 
 
 How Hades, lord of night and death, 
 And how Poseidon, strong 
 To shake the rooted earth. 
 
TRACHINIAE. 277 
 
 But hear, to win this lady for a bride, 
 What champions ready of limb 
 Addressed themselves to fight — 
 The fight and then the marriage-feast ; 
 Ordeal of battle, blow and dusty fall, 
 What rivals dared. 
 A River's might the one, \_Antistrofihe. 
 
 In semblance of a bull, 
 Four-footed, lofty-horned, 
 Great Acheloiis hight, who came from Oeneadae. 509 
 From Thebe, loved of Bacchus, the other came, 
 With curven bow and spear and brandished club, 
 Of Zeus the son. 
 Who then together in the midst, 
 Desiring that fair marriage, met : 
 And in the midst was sitting 
 The single umpire, with an umpire's wand, 
 Cypris who gives fair brides to men. 
 Much noise of heavy hands was then, [Epode. 
 And much of bowstrings twanging, 
 And the horns of the other fiercely struck and clashed : 
 And there were grapplings close-entwined — 520 
 And murderous blows on foreheads ringing — 
 And deep hard breath of both. 
 And all the while she sat 
 Upon a height where all might see, 
 With her fair face and delicate mien, 
 
278 TRACHINIAE. 
 
 And waited for her lord. 
 Methinks I note it as a mother might : 
 
 How there the maiden's sweet sad eyes, 
 They fight for, bide the issue still : 
 
 Then from her mother's side, 
 As when men tear a heifer from its dam, 
 
 All on a sudden she is gone. 530 
 
 Dei. A moment, whilst the stranger takes his leave, 
 Friends, of the captive maidens in the house, 
 To speak with you here to the doors I stole, 
 Part, what my hands have planned that ye may know, 
 And part, that ye may pity my distress. 
 I have received this maiden in my house — 
 Maiden I think no longer, but a wife — 
 As when the shipman takes an overfreight, 
 A bale that will make shipwreck of my heart. 
 And now we twain share one embrace, beneath 
 One mantle's folds abide. Such the reward 540 
 
 That Heracles, whom men call good and true, 
 For my long careful housekeeping hath sent. 
 Yet to be angry I find not in my heart, 
 With him oft smitten with this amorous plague : 
 But dwell beneath one roof with her, and share 
 With her my rights of wife, what woman could ? 
 Her bloom of youth I see is ripening still, 
 But fading mine : and eyes of men, I know, 
 The flower of such young beauty love to pluck, 
 
TRACHINIAE. 279 
 
 But ever from the other turn away. 
 
 This then I fear, that he my wedded lord, 550 
 
 But husband of the younger, will be called. 
 
 Enough : I said, that anger ill beseems 
 
 A woman who is wise : how I shall grieve 
 
 This maiden for my riddance, ye shall hear. 
 
 A gift, from the ancient Centaur long ago 
 
 Received, hid in an urn of brass, I keep. 
 
 From shaggy-breasted Nessus, from his blood, 
 
 As he lay dying, I drew it yet a girl — 
 
 Nessus who in his arms for hire across 
 
 The deep Euenus flood bore men, nor rowed them 
 
 Upon their way with oars, nor hoisted sail. 561 
 
 By whom I also — when in those first days 
 
 After my marriage I with Heracles 
 
 Upon my father's sending followed forth — 
 
 Borne on his shoulders, when I reached mid-stream, 
 
 With wanton hands was touched, and cried aloud, 
 
 And quick the son of Zeus turned, and let fly 
 
 A feathered arrow, that went singing straight 
 
 To the lungs of the Centaur. Who, fainting in death, 
 
 Spake to me thus : ' Daughter of Oeneus old, 
 
 So much, because thou wast my latest charge, 570 
 
 An if thou hearkenest to my words, shalt thou 
 
 Be gainer by my ferrying of thee. 
 
 If with thy hands thou takest of the blood 
 
 That curdles round about my wound, ev'n there 
 
 
28o TRACHINIAE. 
 
 Where the Lernaean monster-hydra dipped 
 
 Its rankling arrows, this shall be to thee 
 
 A charm to sway the soul of Heracles, 
 
 Nor on another woman shall he look 
 
 To love her more than thee.' This then, Ο friends, 
 
 Remembering, (for after he was dead 
 
 Locked up with care I kept it in the house,) 
 
 I dipped this tunic, minding all he said 580 
 
 While yet he lived — all's done, and nought left out. 
 
 No deed of guilty daring may I know 
 
 Or learn — who hate all women who are bold : 
 
 Only with charms put forth on Heracles 
 
 And spells, before this child to be preferred, 
 
 This have I schemed : but, if I seem to do 
 
 A wanton thing — why, then I will forbear. 
 
 Chor. Nay, if you may put trust in what you do, 
 Our judgment is that you have counselled well. 
 
 Dei. Such trust I have as likelihood inspires, 590 
 But nowise yet am conversant with proof. 
 
 Chor. In the effect's the proof; you cannot know, 
 Howe'er it seems, until you make assay. 
 
 Dei. Soon I shall know ; for now I see the man 
 Come from the doors ; and straight he will be gone. 
 Only be secret : even if shameful things 
 Be darkly done, one shall not suffer shame. 
 
 Lick. Command me, child of Oeneus, what to do : 
 Already I have tarried all too long. 
 
TRACH1NIAE. 281 
 
 Dei. Nay, to this end not idle have I been, 600 
 
 Whilst to the strangers there thou saidst farewell, 
 That thou shouldst bear me this well-woven robe, 
 My handiwork, a present to my lord ; 
 And charge him, giving it, to let it be 
 Worn by no other but himself the first, 
 And let no sunlight, nor the sacred court 
 O' the altar, nor the flame upon the hearth, 
 Behold it, till what time in sight of all, 
 Upon a day when bulls are slain, he stands 
 Forth, and displays it for the gods to see. 
 For fitly in this tunic had I vowed, 610 
 
 If I should see or hear him safe returned, 
 To dress him, and present him to the gods, 
 New-dight in a new robe, their worshipper. 
 And on the seal's enclosure, plain to see, 
 This sign deliver him — which he will know. 
 But go now, and this rule, that messengers 
 Seek not to meddle, chiefly bear in mind ; 
 Next, see thou find a twofold meed of thanks, 
 Not single, but united, his and mine. 
 
 Lich. Call me of Hermes no true follower 620 
 
 Or servant, if you find me fail in this, 
 To bring this casket to him as it is, 
 And add for proof the reasons you allege. 
 
 Dei. And now begone. I think you know right well 
 How at this time things are within the house. 
 
282 TRACHINIAE. 
 
 Lich. I know and will report all safe and sound. 
 Dei. My welcome of the stranger — how I gave 
 Her kindly welcome — this you have seen and know ? 
 Lich. So that for joy my heart was all amazed. 629 
 
 Dei. What need to tell aught else ? I fear you may 
 Too soon tell of the yearning of my love, 
 Before you know if I am yearned for there. 
 
 Chor. Where from ship-harbouring rocks [Strophe 1. 
 Our warm springs flow, 
 And whosoever dwells 
 At foot of Ο eta's crags, 
 Where inland furthest runs this Melian bay, 
 And where the golden-arrowed goddess owns 
 The seaward shore, 
 Where meet the Parliaments of Greece, 
 Named of the Gates, renowned — 6 39 
 
 Expect right soon the sweet-voiced flute, \Ant. 1. 
 Not with loud dissonance of despair, 
 But with a music most divine 
 To the responsive lyre attuned, 
 
 All heaven will fill. 
 For hither hastes Alcmena's son, 
 
 The son of Zeus ; 
 With trophies of all high exploit 
 Hastes hither to his home. 
 A full twelve months we thought of him \Str. 2. 
 A wanderer, citiless among men, 
 
TRACHINIAE. 283 
 
 Beyond the sea — 
 We thought and waited, and no tidings came ; 
 
 And drowned in tears his loving wife 650 
 
 Her aching heart consumed with patient pain. 
 But, fallen now on sleep, 
 Hath Ares of her day 
 Of mourning made an end. 
 So quickly, quickly may he come : [Ant. 2. 
 
 So may the oars 
 Of his ship-chariot tarry not, 
 Till to these walls they bear him home, 
 Deserting soon those island altar-fires, 
 Where now he offers sacrifice, 
 If fame be true : 
 
 Thence may he come 660 
 
 A long day's journey without pause — 
 Come, having drunk through every vein 
 The magic of the specious robe, 
 Persuasion's sovereign chrism. 
 Dei. Friends, how I fear that overbusily 
 All that I lately did may have been done. 
 
 Chor. What mean you, Deianeira, child of Oeneus ? 
 Dei. I know not, but I fear I shall be found 
 Fair hopes to have nursed, huge mischief to have wrought. 
 Chor. You speak not of your gift to Heracles ? 
 Dei. Of that. No one henceforth should I advise 
 To dare a deed in blindfold confidence. 670 
 
284 TRACHINIAE. 
 
 Chor. Tell, if it may be told, whence grows your fear. 
 
 Dei. That which has come to pass if I shall tell, 
 Friends, ye will marvel, hearing things undreamed. 
 Wherewith but now I smeared the investiture 
 O' the robe, a weft of wool, fleecy and white — 
 'Tis gone from sight, consumed, but by no hand 
 Of those within — no, self-devoured, it wastes, 
 Down on the slab-face crumbling. But hear all — 
 All, how 'twas done, I will unfold at length. 
 What warnings the brute Centaur, in his side 680 
 
 The bitter shaft then rankling, bade observe, 
 Of these I nothing lost, but minded all — 
 Gravure from brass page ineffaceable. 
 So 'twas prescribed and even so 'twas done. 
 He bade me keep from touch of fire or reach 
 Of the glowing sunbeam in the dark the drug, 
 Until, fresh-smeared, I put it to its use. 
 And so I did. But now, the time being come, 
 I smeared within-doors secretly at home 689 
 
 With wool — from fleece of the home-flock torn, a wisp — 
 And laid and folded from the sunlight close 
 The gift within its casket, as ye saw. 
 Returning I beheld — but how to tell 
 Sight unforeseen, bewildering to hear ? 
 For so it chanced I flung my tuft of wool, 
 I smeared the robe with, out in the full blaze 
 Of the noon sunshine. Whence conceiving warmth, 
 
TRACHINIAE. 285 
 
 All melts from sight now, crumbled on the ground, 
 
 Most like to view, as ye may see the dust 
 
 Shed from a saw's teeth when ye saw the wood. 700 
 
 Mere dust, it lies. But where that dust was strewn, 
 
 Boils upward from the earth thick-curded froth, 
 
 As when from vines of Bacchus on the ground 
 
 Ye spill rich juice of a grey vintage-tide. 
 
 Ah miserable, I know not what to think : 
 
 A fearful deed I see that I have done. 
 
 For whence or wherefore had the monster borne 
 
 Good will to me — dying — for whom he died ? 
 
 He could not ; no, but, minded to undo 
 
 His slayer, beguiled me : guile which all too late 710 
 
 I, when it helps not, win the wit to see. 
 
 For I, I only, (or else my thought flies wide 
 
 Of the mark,) I hapless, shall destroy my lord. 
 
 The shaft that flew, I know, ev'n to a god, 
 
 Cheiron, proved fatal, and, howso it touch, 
 
 To every beast is death ; from wound whereof 
 
 This its black venom mingled with the blood 
 
 How now shall he escape ? Nowise, I think. 
 
 But I am purposed, if harm comes to him — 
 
 Such rage I feel — myself with him to die. 720 
 
 For who, called guilty, would endure to live — 
 
 What wife that prizes innocence indeed ? 
 
 Chor. Mischief we needs must fear : but fortune still 
 Rules the event ; esteem not forecast more. 
 
2 86 TRACHINIAE. 
 
 Dei. Forecast, of courage ministrant, is none — 
 Of hope no help, when men have counselled ill. 
 
 Chor. When men have stumbled all unwittingly, 
 Anger has pity — as 'twere fit you found. 
 
 Dei. So talks no partner of the evil deed, 
 But one upon whose heart no burthen weighs. 730 
 
 Chor. Silence from further speech of this were best : 
 Or will you speak to your own son ? for here 
 He comes, who went erewhile to seek his sire. 
 
 Hyll. Mother, for thee I had chosen of three things 
 one — 
 That thou wert dead this day, or if not dead 
 Then mother not of me, or else to get 
 Somewhence a better mind than this thou hast. 
 
 Dei. What is it, my son, in me mislikes thee so ? 
 
 Hyll. Thy husband — shall I tell thee ? — yea, and I call 
 Him father — know that thou hast slain this day. 740 
 
 Dei. Ah me, my son, what word hast thou an- 
 nounced ? 
 
 Hyll. A word that fails not of fulfilment : for 
 The fact that's palpable who may undo ? 
 
 Dei. My son, how say you ? By what warranty 
 A deed so hateful say you I have wrought ? 
 
 Hyll. Of eyes that saw my father's grievous case — 
 My own ; no hearsay this, from lip to ear. 
 
 Dei. Where found you then, where stood beside, 
 my lord ? 
 
TRACHINIAE. 287 
 
 Hyll. If you must hear, from first to last you shall. 
 From sack of Eurytus' fair town returned, 750 
 
 A victor with his trophies and his spoils — 
 Where the Euboean headland breasts the waves, 
 The cape Cenaean, there to his father Zeus 
 Altars he traced and leafage of a grove : 
 There first I saw him, glad, whom I desired. 
 To Zeus a hecatomb preparing then, 
 Came to him Lichas, his own herald, hence, 
 Who bore thy gift, the robe that proved his death. 
 For this he donned, fulfilling thy behest — 
 So to the sacrifice : twelve faultless bulls, 760 
 
 Prime of the spoil, were there ; but, count them all, 
 He led a hundred victims, small and great. 
 And first of all — unhappy — in gracious mood, 
 Pleased with the pomp and goodliness, he prayed : 
 But when of high solemnities the flame 
 Blazed from the blood and fed with resinous pine, 
 Sweat bathed his skin, and round his body clung 
 Close, as if welded by some craftsman's skill, 
 Clasping each limb, the tunic : racked each joint 
 Convulsive pains. But, when he felt the accurst 770 
 Fell serpent's venom battening on his flesh, 
 He cried aloud for Lichas, the ill-starred, 
 The guiltless of thy guilt, and bade him tell 
 The whole vile plot — wherefore he brought this robe. 
 But, what knew he, the miserable ? thy gift, 
 
288 TRACHINIAE. 
 
 He said, thine only, as 'twas sent, he gave. 
 
 My father heard, and as he heard a wrench 
 
 Of that sharp torture caught away his breath : 
 
 Lichas he snatched by the foot, where the ankle plays, 
 
 And flung full at the sea-confronting cliff. 780 
 
 Out from his hair white oozed the brain : mid-crown 
 
 His skull was split, and weltered with his blood. 
 
 A cry of deprecation and of grief 
 
 Brake from the crowd — one murdered, and one mad. 
 
 And no man dared to stand before thy lord ; 
 
 So, dragged by the pain, he grovelled and he leaped, 
 
 So rock to rock resounded shout and yell, 
 
 Headlands of Locris and Euboean cliffs. 
 
 But when, poor soul, he wearied, oft on the earth 
 
 Flinging himself, oft in that grievous voice 790 
 
 His ill-consorted marriage execrating 
 
 With thee, the guilty, and Oeneus' virgin-prize 
 
 How winning he had won what wrecked his life, 
 
 Then from the shrouding smoke distorted eyes 
 
 He lifted, and he saw me, 'midst the crowd, 
 
 Weeping, and gazed upon me, calling me — 
 
 ' Ο son, draw near, shun not my misery, 
 
 Not though to touch involve thee in my death : 
 
 But bear me forth, and set me, if you may, 
 
 Somewhere far hence, quite out of all men's sight : 800 
 
 Hence, as you pity me, from this land at least 
 
 Ferry me quickly; here I must not die.' 
 
TRACHINIAE. 289 
 
 Nor slighted we his bidding, but mid-ship 
 
 Set him, and brought — but hardly brought — ashore, 
 
 Tortured, with groanings loud. And him full soon 
 
 Living ye shall behold, or lately dead. 
 
 Counsel and hand herein, mother, are known 
 
 Thine : whom may Justice visit for these things, 
 
 Erinys plague ! Gods, pardon me the prayer ! 809 
 
 And they do pardon : since pardon thou didst scorn — 
 
 The noblest man of all men on this earth 
 
 Murdering, whose like again thou shalt not see. 
 
 CJior. Why pass you hence, not speaking? Know 
 you not, 
 Eloquent with the accuser silence pleads ? 
 
 Hyll. So let her pass. A fair wind go with her — 
 Out of my sight so waft her, passing well. 
 Mere empty sound of the name what boots to swell 
 Of mother, since nowise mother-like her deeds ? 
 Pass she, and fare she well : such gladness as 819 
 
 She gives my father, may herself partake ! [Strophe 1 . 
 
 Chor. Lo how, Ο maidens, cometh to pass o'ersoon 
 
 The word prophetic in our sight 
 
 Of the immemorial Prescience, 
 
 By the Voice proclaimed ; that, when to its last month's 
 
 end should run 
 
 The twelfth year out, should be of bearing toils an end 
 
 To the son indeed of Zeus : 
 
 Promise which now the God 
 τ 
 
290 TRACHINIAE. 
 
 To its fulfilment wafts aright. 
 
 Since how can he, who no more sees 
 
 The light, in death have toilsome service any more ? 8 3 o 
 
 For since Necessity, that wrought with guile \Ant i. 
 
 O' the Centaur, steeps in clouds of doom 
 
 His limbs, to which the venom clings, 
 
 Gendered by death, and by the gliding snake conceived — 
 
 What hope that he upon to-morrow's sun shall gaze, 
 
 By the grim hydra-shape 
 
 Inextricably clutched : 
 
 And of the swart-haired beast therewith 
 
 Torment him sharp avenging pains — 
 
 Poison of treacherous speech, in every vein that boils. 8 4 o 
 
 Which she, his miserable wife — [Strophe 2. 
 
 Seeing with swift and sore misfortune to her home 
 
 His novel passion sudden-fraught — 
 
 Part not considered ; part by policy not her own 
 
 Ruining whose love she sought to save, 
 
 Breaks now, I ween, her heart with sobs — 
 
 Sheds now, I ween, from eyes surcharged 
 
 A tender dew of dripping tears. 
 
 Woe treacherous and huge 850 
 
 The coming fate foreshadows clear. 
 
 Broken is the fountain of my tears. [Antistrophe 2. 
 
 Poured on his head, ye gods, this sickness ! never yet, 
 
 Not from his foes, assailed my lord 
 
 Suffering so signal and so pitiable as this. 
 
TRACHINIAE. 29] 
 
 Ο blood-stained steel of vanward spear," 
 
 That barest hither from the fray, 
 
 When proud Oechalia's heights were won, 
 
 The maiden fleet, that fatal day ! 
 
 Nay, Cypris, handmaid mute, 860 
 
 The veil is off — the guilt is thine ! 
 
 Chor. 1. Was the sound born of my fancy, or did I 
 hear, 
 This minute, peal through the house some cry of grief? 
 Hark ! . . . Am I right ? 
 
 Chor. 2. A wail of despair sounds nowise doubtfully, 
 Within : something in the house has gone amiss. 
 
 Chor. 1. And hither see 
 With aspect strange who comes and troubled brow, 
 Poor aged soul, bursting with news to tell. 870 
 
 Nurse. Ο girls, the gift to Heracles — the gift 
 We sent — where ends the trouble it began ? 
 
 Chor. What mischief more, mother, will you report ? 
 
 Nurse. Gone hence is Deianeira — gone, the last 
 Of all her goings — ay, nor budged a step. 
 
 Chor. How — gone ? Dead, say you ? 
 
 Nurse. There's no more to say. 
 
 Chor. Poor lady ! — dead ? 
 
 Nurse. Once and again 'tis told. 
 
 Chor. Ο most untimely end ! how died she, say ? 
 
 Nurse. Most rashly, for the manner. 
 
 Chor. In what guise 
 
292 TRACHINIAE. 
 
 Encountered she with death ? 880 
 
 Nurse. Herself she slew. 
 
 Chor. Remorse — or what fierce fit 
 
 Of madness was it, the fatal thrust 
 So murderously dealt ? How compassed she 
 Death piled on death — 
 Wild work for one weak hand to do ? 
 
 Nurse. One plunge of cursed steel — 'twas done. 
 
 Chor. What, babbler, were you there ? 
 Saw you the wanton deed ? 
 
 Nurse. Near as I stand to you, I stood and saw. 
 
 Chor. How was it ? The manner ? Tell me all. 890 
 
 Nurse. Herself, and of herself, she did this thing. 
 
 Chor. What do you tell me ? 
 
 Nurse. Plain, the truth. 
 
 Chor. Stranger, not thy fair face alone 
 Thou bringest, but born, yea born of thee, 
 A dire Erinys to this house ! 
 
 Nurse. Too true : but more, had you been there to see 
 The things she did — much more your tears had flowed. 
 
 Chor. And daunted not such work a woman's hand ? 
 
 Nurse. A marvel, truly : hear, and testify. 
 She came alone in the house, and saw her son 900 
 
 In the great chamber spreading forth a couch, 
 Deep-pillowed, ere he went to meet his sire, 
 Back ; but she crept away out of his sight, 
 And at the altars falling moaned that she 
 
TRACHINIAE. 293 
 
 Was desolate, and each chattel of the house, 
 
 That once she used, fingered, poor soul, and wept : 
 
 Then, hither and thither roaming, room to room, 
 
 Each face she saw of servants that she loved, 
 
 Unhappy lady, looked and wept again, 
 
 Upon her own hard lot exclaiming still, 910 
 
 And how her children were her own no more. 
 
 And, when she ceased from this, I saw her pass 
 
 Suddenly to the chamber of my lord : 
 
 I, screened by the dark, seeing, myself unseen, 
 
 Watched ; and I saw my mistress fling, lay smooth, 
 
 Couch-coverings on the couch of Heracles, 
 
 Till all were laid : then from the ground she sprang 
 
 And sat there in the midst upon the couch, 
 
 And loosed the flood of scorching tears, and spake : 
 
 ' Ο marriage-bed and marriage-chamber mine, 92° 
 
 Farewell, now and for ever ; never more 
 
 This head upon this pillow shall be laid.' 
 
 No more she said, but with a violent hand 
 
 Did off her robe, clasped by the brooch that lay, 
 
 Gold-wrought, upon her bosom, and made bare 
 
 All her left arm, and whiteness of her side. 
 
 Then I made haste and ran, with all my strength, 
 
 And told her son what way her thoughts were bent. 
 
 But lo, whilst I was gone, just there and back, 
 
 The deed was done — the two-edged sword we saw, 930 
 
 Quite through her side, midriff and heart had pierced. 
 
294 TRACHINIAE. 
 
 Oh but he groaned to see it ! For he knew 
 
 This deed, alas ! his rashness had entailed — 
 
 Taught all too late by those o' the house that her 
 
 The Centaur lured to do she knew not what. 
 
 And now the boy — piteous ! — of groans and tears 
 
 He knew no end, lamenting over her : 
 
 He knelt and kissed her lips ; his side by hers 
 
 He laid along, and lay, complaining sore 
 
 That he had slain her with his random blame ; 94° 
 
 And weeping, his would be a double loss, 
 
 Bereaved of both his parents at one stroke. 
 
 So fares it here. Henceforth I know, two days — 
 
 And some do more — if any man computes, 
 
 He is a fool. To-morrow there is none, 
 
 Until to-day be prosperously got through. 
 
 Chor. Nay, for of these two strokes of fate 
 AVhich first, which after, to lament — 
 Alas me, for I know not which ! 
 The face of one is here to see — 
 The other dread is fancy-drawn — 950 
 
 ' I see,' ' I shall see,' mix in one. 
 Oh that some wandering breeze of heaven [Strophe. 
 From hearth to frontier fresh would spring, 
 And waft me hence, and bear me far, 
 Or ere, the puissant son of Zeus 
 Of mere beholding suddenly, 
 I die, exanimate with fear : 
 
TRACHINIAE. 295 
 
 So comes he, say they, to the doors, 
 
 Tormented in inextricable pain, φο 
 
 A thing to wonder at, and find no words. 
 
 As nightingales of sorrow sing — \Antistrophe. 
 
 I sang of grief not far but near. 
 
 I hear the tread of alien feet. 
 
 Where are they bearing him ? It sounds 
 
 Like march of mourners for a friend, 
 
 The heavy muffled tramp they keep. 
 
 Ah me ! a speechless form they bear. 
 
 Alas ! how frame conjecture of his state, 
 
 If this be death — so still he lies — or sleep ? 970 
 
 Hyll. Ah woe is me for thee, my father ! 
 Miserable am I for thee ! 
 What shall I do ? How shall I help ? Alas ! 
 
 Old Man. My son, keep silence, nor awake 
 The fierce infuriating pain : 
 There's life in the prostrate man. Bite hard 
 Thy lips — no word speak. 
 
 Hyll. How ? he lives ? 
 
 Old Man. Nay, but wake not the slumber-bound ; 
 Nor start and kindle into life 
 His raving dreadful malady. 980 
 
 Hyll. Ο load intolerable of stifled agony ! 
 Ο miserable me ! 
 
 Her. Ο Zeus, 
 
 What land is here ? among what men 
 
296 TRACH1NIAE. 
 
 Lay ye me, racked incessantly 
 
 With pain ? — There, there — out and alas ! 
 
 Again those cursed fangs, again ! 
 
 Old Man. Then didst thou learn, what gain it was 
 To hold thy peace, and not to scare 990 
 
 From head and eyes his sleep away ? 
 
 Hyll. Patient I cannot be, not I, 
 Seeing this horror that I see. 
 
 Her. Ο thou Cenaean altar-pile, 
 A fair return for victims fair 
 Didst thou procure me, to my cost ! 
 Zeus, what a wreck thou madest me ! 
 Ο cursed spite, that e'er mine eyes 
 Beheld thee, so beholding now 
 
 This frenzy's fever, passing cure ! 1000 
 
 Nay for what sorcery, or what skill 
 Of leech-craft — save of Zeus himself — 
 Shall wield a spell to heal my hurt ? 
 Scarce shall such marvel bless my sight. 
 Let be and let me sleep — 
 Sleep, and forget my grief — sleep, not to wake. 
 Where will ye touch me ? What posture would ye have? 
 Each movement, every touch is death. 
 All sleep — whatever shuts an eye — ye have o'erthrown. 
 That clutch, off ! Close again, close creeps my foe ! 
 
 And now, 
 Ye thankless men of Greece, who stirs of you — 1010 
 
TRACHINIAE. 297 
 
 For whom so often on the deep, 
 
 And ridding every forest of its pest, 
 
 I daily died — and now, when I am sick, 
 
 Fire or the sword will no one turn this way, 
 
 To slay and ease me of my pain ? 
 
 Come, friendly arm, and strike — 
 
 Strike thou my head and hated life atwain ! 
 
 Old Man. Son of the hero here, this task grows over- 
 great — 
 Passing my strength. Help thou ! With youthful sight 
 Undimmed — thou, where I fail, canst aid. 
 
 Hyll. My hands — yes, I can help with them ; 1020 
 
 But wit or wisdom have I none, to bid 
 The whole sound life forget its grievous woe : 
 Such issues are of Zeus alone. 
 
 Her. Ο son, whose voice I hear, approach : 
 Raise me, and lay me on my side, to see. 
 ... Ο fate, alas, alas ! 
 Again with dreadful onset and fierce pain 
 The unapproachable malady 1029 
 
 Leaps, leaps upon its prey — to rend and not to spare ! 
 Pallas, this torture must I bear again ? But thou, 
 My son, have pity on thy sire, and draw 
 A blameless sword, and deeply strike 
 'Twixt breast and throat • and cure this maddening pain, 
 Thine impious mother's act — whom might I see 
 Fall'n in the selfsame case, none otherwise 
 
298 TRACHINIAE. 
 
 Than me she slew. Ο Hades sweet, io 4 o 
 
 Brother of Zeus — with sudden death 
 
 Smite me, the miserable, and give me sleep — 
 
 Ο Hades, give me sleep ! 
 
 Chor. I shudder, friends, hearing the woful plight 
 O' the prince — so great a soul, afflicted so. 
 
 Her. Full many, and full fierce, and sore to tell, 
 The labours of these shoulders and these arms : 
 But never yet the queen, consort of Zeus, 
 Proposed, no nor Eurystheus whom I hate, 
 Task like to this — this net by Furies woven, 1050 
 
 And by the false-faced daughter of Oeneus flung — 
 Fast on my shoulders — this, by which I die. 
 So, welded one with me, ev'n from the bone 
 It gnaws my flesh ; and passages of my breath 
 Sucks, and with me inhabits ; and my fresh blood 
 Has drained, till heart is dry, and all my frame 
 Wasted — by unconjectured chains enthralled. 
 Spears hurtling on the plain, gigantic force 
 Of the Earthborn, violence of savage beasts — 
 I have defied ; lands Greek and barbarous 1060 
 
 Each of its scourge have rid — myself unscathed : 
 A woman, woman-hearted as her sex, 
 O'erthrows me, single-handed, with no s\vord. 
 Ο son, be thou my own, my very son, 
 Nor worship more the name of motherhood ; 
 But in thy hands, go, bring her from the house — 
 
TRACHINIAE. 299 
 
 To my hands give — thy mother : that I may know 
 
 If more it grieves thy sight my form to see, 
 
 Than hers, disfeatured, punished as is fit. 
 
 Go, son, be pitiless, pitiful of me, 107 
 
 Whom many men might pity — like a girl 
 
 Moaning and weeping ; as no man shall dare 
 
 Say that he ever saw me weep before ; 
 
 But uncomplaining followed I my fate. 
 
 Now I am found womanish, so valiant once. 
 
 Come now beside me close, my son, and stand, 
 
 And see what plight it is that from myself 
 
 So moves me. See — for I will lift what hides. 
 
 Look at my poor maimed body, all of you : 
 
 Know what I suffer ; see the piteous fact. 10& 
 
 Ah me, alas ! 
 
 Through every limb glowed, thrilled again a throe 
 
 Of agony ; rest from wrestling with my pain 
 
 Denies, 'twould seem, the dread devouring pest. 
 
 Ο Hades, lord, receive me ! 
 
 Oh smite me, fire of Zeus ! 
 
 Hurl forth, great king, thy bolt ; full on my head, 
 
 Father, thy thunder ! Save me from these fangs 
 
 O' the pain, full-blown once more, aggressive. Hands — 
 
 Hands, and ye shoulders, breast, and arms — my 
 
 Own iogo 
 
 I see ye still, the selfsame thews, that erst 
 The scourge of herdsmen from his Nemean lair, 
 
3oo TRACHINIAE. 
 
 That lion, fierce to face, and grim to greet, 
 
 Grappled and conquered ; and the Lernaean worm, 
 
 And that twiform, uncivil, horseman-host, 
 
 Monsters, lawless and rude, of might unmatched ; 
 
 And the Erymanthian boar ; and underground 
 
 At Hades-gate the dire three-headed whelp, 
 
 Echidna's spawn, resistless ; and far i' the west, 
 
 The dragon-guarder of the golden fruit — «a 
 
 These and a thousand toils beside I proved, 
 
 And no one ever flaunted spoils of me. 
 
 Now shattered thus, and tattered as ye see — 
 
 Fate dealt one blindfold blow — my strength lies prone ; 
 
 Mine — whom men say the noblest mother bore, 
 
 Ay, and of Zeus in heaven proclaim me son. 
 
 But I — this surely know — nought though I be, 
 
 No step may move, on her that maimed me thus, 
 
 Ev'n thus, avenged will be. May she but come, 
 
 That, as I teach her, so she may report, n« 
 
 Living and dead, ill-doers I chastised. 
 
 Chor. Alas for Greece ! what mourning I foresee 
 In store for her, if she shall lose this man. 
 
 Hyll. Father — because you give me leave to speak — 
 Refrain and hear me, howsoe'er with pain. 
 What I shall ask, you shall in justice grant. 
 Incline to hear, not as thine anger chafes, 
 Impatient : vainly then were told, wherein 
 Thou cravest joy, wherein art grieved, amiss. 
 
TRACHINIAE. 301 
 
 Her. Say all thy say, and cease : for, racked with 
 
 pain, 1120 
 
 I know not what thy wordiness intends. 
 
 Hyll. My mother — I must tell thee how she fares 
 Now, and how nowise wilfully she sinned. 
 
 Her. Ο thou most base, thy father's murderess, 
 Thy mother — wilt thou talk to me of her ? 
 Hyll. Being as she is, I may not well refrain. 
 Her. Truth, no, for that ill deed which late she did. 
 Hyll. Nor what she hath done this day — thou shalt 
 
 confess. 
 Her. Speak, but have heed lest speaking prove thee 
 
 base. 
 Hyll. Thus then. She lies dead — slain within this 
 
 hour. 1130 
 
 Her. By whom ? Harsh prophet of strange news art 
 
 thou. 
 Hyll. No stranger's but her own hand struck the blow. 
 Her. Alas — she cheats me then of my revenge. 
 Hyll. Even thy heart 'twould melt, the whole tale to 
 
 hear. 
 Her. Thou preludest a riddle. Tell me, how. 
 Hyll. All in a word — she sinned, intending well. 
 Her. Well, traitor, has she done — who slew thy sire ? 
 Hyll. She saw the wife within there, thought to bind 
 Thy heart with spells — thought, and miscarried thus. 
 Her. Can Trachis boast a sorcerer so bold ? 1140 
 
3θ2 TRACHINIAE. 
 
 Hyll. Nessus long since, the Centaur, gave advice 
 With such a charm to madden thy desire. 
 
 Her. Ah me unhappy, how am I undone ! 
 Lost and undone and banished from the light ! 
 Too well I see, hedged by what ills I stand. 
 My son, go, for thy father is no more ; 
 Call me thy brethren hither, all the brood ; 
 And call the miserable Alcmena, loved 
 Vainly by Zeus, that with my latest breath 
 I may declare what oracles I know. n 5 
 
 Hyll. So it hath chanced, thy mother is not here, 
 But dwells apart, at Tiryns by the sea. 
 And of thy children some she rears for thee 
 There, and of others learn lodged hence at Thebes : 
 But we, my father, as many as remain, 
 What thou requirest, hearing, will perform. 
 
 Her. Then hear me thou. Now is thy time to show 
 What stuff thou art made of, who art called my son. 
 My sire of old forewarned me of my end, 
 That by no living wight should I be slain, hoc 
 
 But by one dead, a dweller in the dark. 
 So now by this brute Centaur, as the god 
 Foretold, I die — the living by the dead. 
 Hear also, chiming all to one result, 
 New oracles that with the old agree. 
 For in the grove, whose priests the Selli make 
 Their home the mountain and the earth their bed, 
 
TRACHINIAE. 303 
 
 There from the many-voiced, my father's oak, 
 
 I heard and wrote my doom — that at this time, 
 
 This living present, of my heavy tasks «70 
 
 I should be freed — and happy, I supposed — 
 
 But now I see this meant that I should die ; 
 
 For on the dead is laid no burthen more. 
 
 Thus all to one conclusion plainly points. 
 
 Now therefore, Ο my son, I crave thy help : 
 
 Nor wait until thy waiting whets my tongue ; 
 
 Help me, thyself consenting, having found 
 
 No law like this — for children, to obey. 
 
 Hyll. Such words have passed between us — what 
 comes next, 
 I fear : yet, father, speak — I shall obey. n8o 
 
 Her. But first thy hand — lay thy right hand in mine. 
 
 Hyll. Why wilt thou fix me with this needless pledge ? 
 
 Her. Give me thy hand : dispute not, but obey. 
 
 Hyll. Freely I give it ; do with me as thou wilt. 
 
 Her. Now, by the head of Zeus my Father, swear. 
 
 Hyll. What thing to do ? tell me, and I will swear. 
 
 Her. That, what I shall prescribe, thou wilt perform. 
 
 Hyll. I swear that so I will, so help me Zeus. 
 
 Her. Pray that his curse may find thee, if thou fail. 
 
 Hyll. So may it : I fear it not — I shall not fail. n 9 o 
 
 Her. Knowest thou the summit of Oeta — seat of 
 Zeus ? 
 
 Hyll. Often have I climbed — and at his altar stood. 
 
304 TRACHINIAE. 
 
 Her. Now ye must lift my body with your hands, 
 Thou, and what friends with thee thou wilt, and 
 
 there — 
 Hew me great faggots out of ancient oaks 
 Deep-rooted, and male oleasters cleave 
 Nor spare, and lay my body on the wood, 
 Then take a blazing torch of resinous pine, 
 And set fire under. Mourn not for me, nor weep : 
 But do thine office, as thou art my son, 1200 
 
 Tearless, without a groan ; lest from the grave 
 My curse be heavy upon thee all thy days. 
 
 Hyll. What do I hear ? What hast thou done to me? 
 
 Her. Thou hast thy task : this do, or else be called 
 No son of mine — get thee another sire. 
 
 Hyll. Alas my father, and again alas — 
 What wouldst thou ? Shall I be thy murderer ? 
 
 Her. Nay, not a murderer, but with healing hands 
 The one physician of my dire disease. 
 
 Hyll. Strange medicine thou cravest — this of fire. 1210 
 
 Her. If this thou fearest, do for me all but this. 
 
 Hyll. I shall not grudge to bear thee to the place. 
 
 Her. And wilt thou heap the pyre, as I have said ? 
 
 Hyll. So that I do not touch it with my hands, 
 All else I will ; thou shalt not lack, for me. 
 
 Her. This shall suffice. Yet grant one boon beside, 
 And to the greater favour add the less. 
 
 Hyll. Greater it cannot be than I shall grant. 
 
TRACHINIAE. 305 
 
 Her. The daughter of Eurytus — thou knowest her ? 
 
 Hyll. Of Iole thy speech is, as I think. 1220 
 
 Her. Of her. Hear now my will concerning her. 
 When I am dead, if thou hast any care 
 Not impiously to break thine oath to me, 
 Take her to be thy wife, nor thwart me here : 
 And let no other man have her but thee, 
 Seeing that beside thy father she hath lain, 
 But cherish her and take her for thine own. 
 Promise ; for in a trifle to rebel 
 Forfeits the thanks of loyalty in much. 
 
 Hyll. Ah me, with a sick man one should be 
 gentle ; 230 
 
 Yet who could bear to see him so distraught ? 
 
 Her. Thy muttering bodes no doing of my will. 
 
 Hyll. Who in my place, with the one woman who 
 caused 
 My mother's death, and this thy grievous plight — 
 Who but one plagued with madness for a curse, 
 Would choose this ? Better, father, I should die, 
 Than with my enemies ill-matched to dwell. 
 
 Her. So now it seems this man will not regard 
 Me, dying. But the gods live, and for thee, 
 Ο disobedient to my voice, their curse shall wait. 1240 
 
 Hyll. Ah, soon, I fear, thou'lt say thy pangs return. 
 
 Her. The pain had slept ; thou dost awake me, thou. 
 
 Hyll. Unhappy, on all sides how am I perplexed ! 
 
306 TRACH1NIAE. 
 
 Her. Yea, me thy father deigning not to hear. 
 
 Hyll. Shall I be taught to do an impious deed ? 
 
 Her. Not impious, if thereby my heart is cheered. 
 
 Hyll. Shall then thy bidding clear me of the guilt ? 
 
 Her. I call the gods to witness, thou art clear. 
 
 Hyll. Enough : I promise it. The gods have seen 
 What part herein is thine, nor will condemn 12^0 
 
 Me, father, that I hearkened to thy voice. 
 
 Her. Tis well concluded. Show me then, my son, 
 This kindness quickly : and set me on the pyre 
 Now, ere the pain comes back to rend and sting. 
 Ho ye, make haste and lift me. Rest from trouble 
 Is none for me, save death that endeth all. 
 
 Hyll. All without hindrance, father, as thou wilt, 
 Since thy command is urgent, shall be done. 
 
 Her. Come, while the pain sleeps undisturbed, 
 Come, Ο thou stubborn heart, and bring 1260 
 
 A bit of steel, set sharp with stones, 
 And let no groan escape my lips — 
 Rejoicing, heart, to dare and do 
 The inevitable deed. 
 
 Hyll. Good henchmen, lift him : and of me 
 Have ye great pity in your thoughts ; 
 But, for this deed that must be done, 
 Know that the gods are pitiless, 
 Who, though this man is called their son, 
 Yet let him suffer as ye see. 
 
TRACHINIAE. 307 
 
 Shut is the future from our view : 1270 
 
 But grief the present hath for us, 
 
 And for the gods reproach ; 
 
 Yea, and for him, who bears his doom — 
 
 Was ever pain like his ? 
 
 Come, maidens, follow, who have seen 
 
 Unknown dread forms of death to-day, 
 
 And sorrows manifold and strange : 
 
 And nought comes not from Zeus. 1278 
 
AJAX 
 
PERSONS. 
 
 AjAX. 
 
 Odysseus. 
 
 Teucer.— btO 
 
 Agamemnon. 
 
 Menelaus. 
 
 Messenger. 
 
 Athene. 
 
 Tecmessa. 
 
 Chorus of Salaminian Sailors. 
 
ajar 
 
 Ath. y7 VER, son of Laertes, I behold thee 
 
 -* — J Keen-eyed to snatch occasion of thy foes : 
 And now I find thee by the seaward tents, 
 Of Ajax, where at the camp's end he lies, 
 Like hunter on the trail, pausing to scan 
 His footmarks newly-printed, and discern, 
 Is he within or not. Right to thine aim 
 Keen-scented footing as of a Spartan hound 
 Leads thee. Here hath he entered even now, 
 His brows and slaughtering hands all drenched with 
 sweat. io 
 
 Now then within these doors no more is need 
 That thou shouldst peer, but say what brings thee hither, 
 Thus eager : I who know will tell thee all. 
 
 Od. Voice of Athene, goddess best-beloved, 
 Albeit unseen, how well I know thy sound, 
 This that I hear and all my heart drinks in, 
 As of Tyrsenian trumpet brazen-tongued. 
 And now my foe, as thou hast deemed, I hunt, 
 'This buckler-bearing Ajax, to and fro : 
 Him have I tracked so long, and none but him. 20 
 
312 Α/ΑΧ. 
 
 For he this night a deed that baffles thought 
 
 Has wrought against us, if the work be his : 
 
 Since nothing sure we know, but are in doubt. 
 
 And I my service offered for this quest. 
 
 For lo our captive flocks, and with the flocks 
 
 Their guardians also, by some violent hand 
 
 Slain and despoiled all newly have we found ; 
 
 And all the camp charges on him this guilt. 
 
 Yea and a certain watcher came with word 
 
 And showed me how with smoking sword alone 30 
 
 He saw him leaping o'er the plain : whereat 
 
 I hasted on the track, and now conclude — 
 
 Now am perplexed — whose may the footprints be. 
 
 But in good time thou comest : for thy hand 
 
 Guides all my goings, and evermore shall guide. 
 
 Ath. I knew it, Odysseus, and with good will came, 
 To go along with thee and watch thy quest. 
 
 Od. On a true scent, dear mistress, do I work ? 
 
 Ath. Be well assured thou dost : he did this deed. 
 
 Od. What to such work nerved his insensate hand ? 40 
 
 Ath. Wrath for Achilles' arms oppressed his soul. 
 
 Od. How then in such strange wise fell he on flocks ? 
 
 Ath. Deeming on you he dyed his hands in gore. 
 
 Od. And was this purposed for the Argive host ? 
 
 Ath. Purposed indeed and done, had I not watched. 
 
 Od. What daring and what hardihood was this ? 
 
 Ath. Alone, i' the night, by stealth he went against you. 
 
Α/ΑΧ. 313 
 
 Od. And came he near us ? at his goal arrived ? 
 
 Ath. At the tent-doors of the two generals. 
 
 Od. How stayed he then his hand that craved for 
 blood ? 50 
 
 Ath. I checked him, and I cast upon his sight 
 Distracting fancies of a desperate joy : 
 Against the flocks I turned him, flocks and herds— 
 The general spoil not yet distributed, 
 Which herdsmen have in charge — on these he fell, 
 And hewed great slaughter of the horned beasts, 
 Smiting all round him : and sometimes he deemed 
 He slew the two Atreidae with his hand, 
 Anon, of leaders fell on this or that. 
 Seeing him rave with madness in his soul, 
 I urged him, drave him to the toils of fate. 60 
 
 And, having rested from such work as this, 
 The living oxen now he bound with cords, 
 And all the sheep, and home he brought them all, 
 Thinking 'twas men, not beasts, he had for prey. 
 And now within, bound fast, he tortures them. 
 Nay, thou shalt see his madness with thine eyes, 
 That thou mayest tell the Greeks what thou hast seen. 
 Bravely await, expecting no mischance, 
 His coming : for his eyes' gaze I will turn 
 Another way, nor let him see thy face. 70 
 
 Ho, thou who straightenest out the captives' arms 
 With cords within there, come, I bid thee, forth — 
 
3ΐ4 Α/ΑΧ. 
 
 Come forth, come hither, Ajax, out of doors. 
 
 Od. What dost thou, mistress? Nowise call him 
 forth. 
 
 Ath. Hold thou thy peace, and be not cowardly. 
 
 Od. I pray thee, be content, and let him stay ! 
 
 Ath. Lest what befall ? Was he no man before ? 
 
 Od. Ay, and to me a foeman was, and is. 
 
 Ath. To laugh at foes — what laughter is more sweet ? 
 
 Od. Content am I, he should abide within. 80 
 
 Ath. A madman — and you shrink to see the sight ? 
 
 Od. I had not shrunk to face him, were he sane. 
 
 Ath. But now, ev'n stand beside him, he'll not see. 
 
 Od. How, if he sees with the same eyesight still ? 
 
 Ath. His eyes, although they see, yet I will blind. 
 
 Od. All's possible indeed, when gods contrive. 
 
 Ath. Stand and be silent : as thou art, remain. 
 
 Od. I will remain ; but would that I were hence. 
 
 Ath. What, Ajax, ho : a second time I call, 
 So lightly thine ally dost thou regard ? 90 
 
 Aj. All hail, Athene ! daughter of Zeus, all hail ! 
 I thank thee for thy help. For this day's prize 
 With goodly spoils all-golden will I crOwn^fhee. 
 
 Ath. Tis fairly spoken. But answer me to this : 
 Hast thou dyed well thy sword i' the Argive host ? 
 
 Aj. I'll not deny it ; such boasting is my right. 
 
 Ath. Upon the Atreidae did thine arm'd hand fall ? 
 
 Aj. So that these men will not slight Ajax more. 
 
Α/ΑΧ. 315 
 
 Ath, I read thy saying, that the men are slain. 
 
 Aj. Slain — of my arms let them defraud me now ! 100 
 
 Ath. Good now : but of Odysseus — what of him ? 
 In what plight stands he now ? is he escaped ? 
 
 Aj. The cursed dog-fox — askest thou of him ? 
 
 Ath. Yea, of thy foe, Odysseus, I would learn. 
 
 Aj. Sweetest of all, Ο queen, he sits i' the tent 
 My captive : for he must not die just yet. 
 
 Ath. Till thou dost what, or what more shalt have 
 gained ? 
 
 Aj. Till being bound to a pillar of the court 
 
 Ath. How wilt thou punish then the miserable ? 
 
 Aj. His back shall bleed with scourging, ere he dies, no 
 
 Ath. Nay, do not so torment the hapless one. 
 
 Aj. Have all save this, Athene, as thou wilt : 
 But so must this man suffer, no way else. 
 
 Ath. AVhy then, if it delights thee to do this — 
 Hold not thy hand, spare nought of thine intent. 
 
 Aj. I go to do it : only I charge thee this — 
 As now, so ever, help me at my need. 
 
 Ath. Seest thou, Odysseus, what the might of gods ? 
 What man more prudent, or more prompt to do 
 The thing in season, couldst thou have found than he ? 120 
 
 Od. I know not any. Yet must I pity him, 
 Being so unhappy, unfriendly though he be, 
 Bound with a fate so cruel hand and foot : 
 For in his state I see my own no less ; 
 
3i6 AfAX. 
 
 I see that all we living are nought else 
 But phantoms, or a shadow that escapes. 
 
 Ath. So having eyes to see, keep thou thy lips, 
 And of the gods speak never a boastful word ; 
 And show no swelling port, because thy hand 
 Is heavier than another's, or than his 
 Deeper the soundings of thy hoarded gold. 
 For a day lays low, and a day restores, 
 All human things : and humbleness the gods 
 Love, but all evil-doers they abhor. 
 
 Chor. Ο son of Telamon, that hast 
 Thine island home at Salamis, 
 Firm-planted 'mid the waves, 
 In thy prosperity I am glad, 
 But when on thee some heavy blow 
 From heaven, or of the Grecian host 
 A furious slanderous rumour falls, 
 I shrink and cower — no fluttering dove 
 More timorous-eyed than I. 
 As, in this night now spent, all tongues 
 Are loud against us clamouring shame, 
 That flocks of the Greeks and herds — 
 What spoil of the conquering spear remained — 
 Ranging the meadows where 
 Our steeds run wild, thou didst destroy, 
 With flash of murderous steel. 
 Such false and whispered tale 
 
AJAX. 317 
 
 Odysseus pours in ears of all, 
 
 Persuading all : for now . 150 
 
 All men believe all things of thee, 
 
 And every one who hears exults 
 
 And triumphs in thine anguish, more 
 
 Than he who told. One shall not miss, 
 
 IVho at a mighty spirit aims : 
 
 But, should he speak such things of me, 
 
 None would believe him ; envy still 
 
 Assails the fortunate. Yet are 
 
 Small men no stable tower of strength, 
 
 Without the great : small joined with great, 160 
 
 Great helped by small, shall prosper best. 
 
 But fools, by step and step, to learn 
 
 This lesson who can lead ? 
 
 So foolish is their clamorous spite ; 
 
 And we without thee, prince, are weak 
 
 Their idle slanders to repel. 
 
 Nay, for so soon as from thine eye 
 
 They have escaped, they chatter loud, 
 
 Like flocks of noisy birds : 
 
 But, Ο great vulture, show thyself — 370 
 
 Straight they shall cower 
 
 Before thee, stricken dumb with fear. 
 
 Did Artemis incense thee so? [Strophe 1. 
 
 Zeus' daughter, Tauric Artemis, 
 
 (O rumour huge, parent of shame to me ! ) 
 
3i8 AJAX. 
 
 Upon the herds to fall, the people's kine — 
 
 Minding belike some day of victory, 
 
 To crown it now with bitter fruit, 
 
 When glorious battle-spoils she missed, 
 
 Or missed the wonted honours of the chase ? 
 
 Or brazen-harnessed Enyalius is it perchance, 
 
 Who, for he blamed alliance lightly prized, 180 
 
 Conspiring with the darkness of the night, 
 
 Hath thus redressed the wrong ? 
 
 For never, son of Telamon, \Antistrophe i. 
 
 Didst thou of thine own counsel stray 
 
 In foolish paths so far, to fall on flocks. 
 
 Men are with madness smitten of the gods. 
 
 But now may Zeus and Phoebus both avert 
 
 This foul tale that the Argives tell ! 
 
 And, if they speak a cunning speech, 
 
 A changeling lie — these mighty kings, or he 189 
 
 Who of the miscreant house of Sisyphus is sprung — 
 
 No more, our prince, keeping thy presence hid, 
 
 Here on the beach among the tents, no more, 
 
 Win me an evil fame ! 
 
 Arise and sit no more, \Epode. 
 
 Where rooted in a stubborn idleness 
 
 Too long thou sitt'st already, absent from the war. 
 
 Kindling a flame of ruin high as heaven : 
 
 So fearlessly it flares, 
 
 Fire in a wind-swept thicket of the hills — 
 
AJAX. 319 
 
 The fury of thy foes \ 
 
 Whose scornful wagging tongues to thee 
 
 Are grievous — and for me abideth woe. 200 
 
 Tec. Shipmates of the bark of Ajax — 
 Of the Erechthid race, sons of the soil — 
 We have tears for our shedding, we who care 
 For the house of Telamon, for the house far off. 
 For now the dreadful, the mighty, 
 Ajax the fierce and strong, 
 By madness — all one turbid stream — 
 Lies stricken. 
 
 Chor. What heavy deed 
 
 Has startled the night from its stillness ? 
 Child of the Phrygian Teleutas, speak : 210 
 
 For thee, his consort, won with the spear, 
 He loves ; and wild is his soul, but to thee 
 Is constant : so shouldst thou, 
 Not ignorant, hint the truth. 
 
 Tec. How shall I utter a tale unuttered ? 
 Yea, for like death is the grief ye shall hear. 
 Ah me, our glorious Ajax — 
 So stricken with madness, so all in a night 
 Wrecked and undone is he. 
 
 Such bleeding butchered victims 220 
 
 Sacrificed there in the tent thou'lt see, 
 Ev'n by no hand but his. 
 
 Chor. Ah, of my fiery-hearted lord [Strophe. 
 
32θ Α/ΑΧ. 
 
 What tidings are these that thou tellest, 
 
 Not to be borne, nor yet escaped — 
 
 Told all abroad by the mighty Greeks, 
 
 Which Rumour extols as she tells, loud-voiced ? 
 
 Ah me, for I fear whereto this tends. 
 
 Surely, discovered, the man will die, 
 
 Having slain together with frenzied hand, 230 
 
 Slain with the reeking sword together, 
 
 Sheep, and the horsemen who kept the sheep. 
 
 Tec. Alas ! thence then it was, 
 Thence that we saw him come, 
 Driving his captive flocks ; and of part 
 He cut the throats on the ground within ; 
 Some, hewing their sides, he tore asunder ; 
 And two white-footed rams he took, 
 And of one shore off the head, and the tip 
 Of the tongue, and flung them 
 From him ; and one upright 240 
 
 By its forefeet lashed to a pillar, 
 And then with a mighty thong 
 Of his horse's harness smote, 
 Doubling it into a sounding scourge, 
 Reviling him too with bitter words, 
 Which a god and no man had taught. 
 
 Chor. Now it is high time, now, that one [Ant. 
 Should cover his head with a mantle, 
 And with his feet make haste to flee, 
 
Α/ΑΧ. 32ΐ 
 
 Or on swift benches of rowers sit, 
 
 And over the sea let the ship be gone. 250 
 
 Such threats do the two lords, Atreus' sons, 
 
 Threat after threat like our own oars' tune, 
 
 Ply against us : nay, and I fear to share, 
 
 Stricken with him, a death by stoning — 
 
 Whom unapproachable fate involves. 
 
 Tec. But now no longer so : for now 
 The lightnings cease, and the gale is still, 
 That rushed so keen before. 
 Now, come to himself, new pain he suffers : 
 For looking on self-inflicted grief, 260 
 
 Wherein no other bore a hand, 
 Lays to the soul sharp pangs. 
 
 Chor. Nay, all may yet be well, if this has ceased : 
 Soon we make light of troubles that are past. 
 
 Tec. Yet which, if these were offered, wouldst thou 
 choose, 
 To vex thy friends and to be glad thyself, 
 Or, partner of their grief, be grieved no less ? 
 
 Chor. The double grief, Ο lady, is the worse. 
 
 Tec. Then by his sane mind are we losers now. 269 
 
 Chor. How mean you this ? I know not what you say. 
 
 Tec. This man, this Ajax, whilst he still was mad, 
 Himself rejoiced in his own misery ; 
 Ours was the grief who saw it and were sane : 
 But, since his madness gives him breathing-space, 
 
322 Α/ΑΧ. 
 
 Now with sore sorrow all his soul is vexed, 
 And we are grieved no less than formerly. 
 Is it not a twofold plague, two griefs for one ? 
 
 CJwr. I'll not gainsay thee : but I fear, some blow 
 From heaven has fallen. Nay, how else, if, sane, 
 No whit more than distracted, he is glad ? 280 
 
 Tec. Be well assured and know that so it is. 
 
 CJwr. What first beginning of this evil fell ? 
 Tell us, who share thy grief, whate'er has chanced. 
 
 Tec. Yea, it concerns thee, thou shalt hear it all. 
 At dead of night, when evening fires were out, 
 With a sharp two-edged sword he armed his hand, 
 Bent on some bootless errand to be forth. 
 I spake and chid him : ' Ajax, what wouldst thou ? 
 Why goest thou forth unbidden on this quest, 
 Called by no messenger, nor hearing voice 290 
 
 Of trumpet, but the host lies now asleep ? ' 
 Shortly he answered me, the old old tale : 
 ' Woman, to be silent is a woman's crown.' 
 So taught, I ceased, and he rushed forth alone ; 
 What chanced whilst he was gone I cannot tell, 
 But back he came with spoil into the tent, 
 Bulls, bound, and shepherds' dogs, and goodly flocks. 
 Some he beheaded, of some slit throat, back-bent, 
 Some hewed in pieces, some his prisoners 
 As men tormented, falling on senseless sheep. 300 
 
 Last, through the doors he rushed, bandying wild words 
 
Α/ΑΧ. 3 2, 
 
 There with some phantom, of the Atreidae now, 
 
 Odysseus then — and still his laugh rang false, 
 
 How he had gone, wreaked scorn upon his foes. 
 
 Then swiftly back within the tent he came : 
 
 And there with pain, at last, came to himself : 
 
 And through that house of slaughter sent his eyes, 
 
 And smote his head, and cried aloud : and sat 
 
 A wreck amid the wrecks of the slain beasts, 
 
 And tightly clutched his hair with his bent hands. 3* 
 
 Most of the time he sat without a word ; 
 
 But then at me broke forth with direst threats, 
 
 Should I hide from him aught of what had chanced ; 
 
 And bade me tell him in what plight he stood. 
 
 And I, Ο friends, afraid, told all the tale, 
 
 Far as I knew it, all that he had done. 
 
 Then did he cry out with a grievous cry, 
 
 Such as I never heard from him before ; 
 
 Ever till now he taught that such complaints 
 
 Were fit for cowards and men dispirited; — 32• 
 
 No sound of shrill lamenting would he make, 
 
 But moaned, as a bull might, beneath his breath : — 
 
 But now, in such ill plight, so overthrown, 
 
 There, without food or drink, fall'n midst the beasts 
 
 Slain by his sword, he sits, and holds his peace. 
 
 And past all doubt some mischief he intends : 
 
 There's some such meaning in his words and moans. 
 
 But, Ο my friends, for therefore came I hither, 
 
32 4 AJAX. 
 
 Come in and help us, if ye have the skill ; 
 
 Such men are governed by a friend's advice. 330 
 
 Chor. Ο daughter of Teleutas, a sore tale 
 You tell us, of this man made mad with grief. 
 
 Aj. {within.) Ah me, alas ! 
 
 Tec. Not yet the worst, I fancy : heard ye not 
 \Vhat bitter cry there sounded from his lips ? 
 
 Aj. Ah, woe is me ! 
 
 Chor. The man, it seems, is mad, or, face to face 
 With sight of his past madness, grieves for that. 
 
 Aj. My child there ! 
 
 Tec. Alas me : for Eurysaces he calls. 340 
 
 What means he ? child, where art thou ? hapless I ! 
 
 Aj. What, Teucer ! where is Teucer ? will he be gone 
 Plundering for ever, and leave me to my fate ? 
 
 Chor. There speaks no madman. Open ye the doors. 
 Ev'n sight of me may put him to some shame. 
 
 Tec. 'Tis done, the doors stand open. Now may 
 ye see 
 His deeds, and see himself, what plight is his. 
 
 Aj. My mariners, my friends, \Strophe 1. 
 
 My only, only friends who still, 
 
 Still by the upright rule abide, 350 
 
 Behold what circling tide is round me now, 
 Borne in by the deadly tempest's stress. 
 
 Chor. Ah, how thy testimony proves too true ! 
 Too plain the deed declares its senselessness. 
 
Λ/ΑΧ. 325 
 
 Aj. Shipmates who dipt the oar, \A?itistrophe i. 
 
 Good crew, staunch in the seaman's craft, 
 You have I seen and none but you 
 
 A bulwark still against calamity : 360 
 
 Come therefore, and slay me — me with these. 
 
 Chor. Refrain thy tongue : by curing ill with ill, 
 Increase not thou the sharpness of thy doom. 
 
 Aj. Ye see me here, the brave, the stout of heart, 
 The undismayed in battle with the foe — 
 Dealing on fearless beasts most valiant blows. 
 Alas the mockery, how am I cast down ! 
 
 Tec. Ah, my lord Ajax, say not so, I pray thee. 
 
 Aj. Hence, woman, and begone out of my sight ! 
 Ah me, alas ! 370 
 
 Tec. Nay, by the gods, learn wisdom and submit. 
 
 Aj. Luckless, who spared to strike the guilty, the 
 accursed, \Strophe 2. 
 
 But, falling on these horned kine and goodly flocks, 
 Poured out their purple blood. 
 
 Chor. Why shouldst thou grieve, now when the deed 
 is done ? 
 There is no way but that these things are so. 
 
 Aj. Ο seeing all, tool of all mischief ever, 
 Most false, most loathsome knave in all the host, 380 
 
 Now in thy triumph well I know that thou, 
 Son of Laertes, laughest loud and long. 
 
 Chor. As heaven ordains it, so men laugh or weep. 
 
326 Α/ΑΧ. 
 
 Aj. Yet might I see him — suffering as I am . l 
 Ah me, alas ! 
 
 Chor. Speak no proud word. Bethink thee of thy 
 plight. \Antidrophe 2. 
 
 Aj. Ο Zeus, my sire's progenitor, might I but slay 
 The cunning hated knave, and those twin-sceptred kings. 
 And then myself be slain ! 390 
 
 Chor. When thou wouldst pray thus, pray withal for me 
 To die : why should I live when thou art dead ? 
 
 Aj. Ο night, my light — \Strophe. 
 
 Ο Erebus, most bright, for me — 
 Take, take me hence, with you to dwell : 
 Take me : no longer am I fit 
 To look to gods for succour, 
 No, nor for any help of mortal men : 
 But me the child of Zeus, 400 
 
 The mighty goddess, plagues 
 To my undoing : then whither can I flee ? 
 Or where, oh where, gone hence, shall I remain ? 
 If all the past fades from me, Ο my friends, 
 And vengeance is at hand, 
 And on an idle triumph my heart was set ; 
 And all the host, lifting both hands to strike, 
 Would strike me dead. 
 
 Tec. Oh me unhappy, that a brave man should speak 
 Such words, words that before he had not deigned ! 410 
 
 Aj. Ο seaward caves, [Antisirophe. 
 
Α/ΑΧ. 327 
 
 And paths beside the sounding wave, 
 
 And pastures sloping to the beach, 
 
 A long, a long, a weary time, 
 
 Beneath Troy-walls ye held me ; 
 
 But now no more, no more with breath of life — 
 
 Let none but fools doubt that ! 
 
 And, Ο Scamander's streams, 
 
 Ye neighbour streams, that to the Greeks were kind, 
 
 Ye shall not any more behold this man — 420 
 
 A man of whom I shall not fear to boast, 
 
 Troy hath not seen his like, 
 
 In all the host come hither from Grecian land ; 
 
 But now, from height of glory fall'n so low, 
 
 Prostrate I lie. 
 
 CJwr. I cannot forbid, but how to let thee speak 
 I know not — so with misery beset. 429 
 
 Aj. Alas me ! who had thought my name one day 
 Would have such meaning, chiming with my fate ? 
 For twice and three times now have I good cause 
 To cry Alas, fallen in such evil plight : 
 Whose father once in this Idaean land 
 Won by his prowess first prize of all the host, 
 And home departed crowned with all renown ; 
 But I his son unto the selfsame Troy 
 Came, strong as he ; yea, and, albeit I wrought 
 Like helpful deeds in battle with my hand, 
 I perish thus, dishonoured by the Greeks. 440 
 
328 Α/ΑΧ. 
 
 Yet surely I think that this one thing I know, 
 Had but Achilles lived to make award, 
 Whose prowess had deserved his arms for prize, 
 No other man had snatched them then from me. 
 But now the Atreidae to this utter knave 
 Have sold them, and my deeds they have despised. 
 And had not sight and thought, distorted both, 
 Swerved from my purpose, never more had they 
 Against another man giv'n sentence thus. 
 But now the stern-eyed maiden, child of Zeus, 45c 
 
 Even whilst I armed my hand to strike the blow, 
 So mocked me, with such madness dazed my mind, 
 That on these poor beasts I imbrued my hands, 
 Whilst they exult to have escaped my clutch — 
 No fault of mine : no, when a god arrests, 
 The worse man from his better may escape. 
 What shall I do now ? whom 'tis manifest 
 The gods hate, and the Greek host loves me not, 
 And all Troy hates me and these plains of Troy. 
 Home o'er the Aegean wave, from shore and camp, 4 6o 
 Leaving the Atreidae helpless, shall I go ? 
 Btfore the face of Telamon, my sire, 
 How shall I stand ? how will he look on me, 
 iCome back ungraced, come back without the prize, 
 With praise whereof he crowned his own brows once ? 
 'Twere past endurance. What then ? Shall I storm 
 Troy's towers, and fall alone on none but foes, 
 
Α/ΑΧ. 329 
 
 And do some valiant deed, and so be slain ? 
 But the Atreidae would be glad of this. 
 It may not be. Another kind of feat 470 
 
 / Must I devise, whereby my sire shall know, 
 At least no coward in grain am I, his son. 
 Base is the craving for the longer life, 
 When life is misery, and unrelieved. 
 What joy has day that alternates with day, 
 And this brings nigh and that draws off from — death ? 
 Too dear I count him at the cheapest rate, 
 Who warms his heart with visionary hopes. 
 Nobly to live or nobly die, there is 
 No choice for brave men else. My say is said. 480 
 
 Chor. No one shall say thy words rang counterfeit : 
 We heard thy whole soul, Ajax, in that speech. 
 But now let be : now let thy friends prevail 
 To bend thy purpose — and dismiss these thoughts. 
 
 Tec. Ο my lord Ajax, of all things most hard 
 Hardest is slavery for men to bear. 
 And I was daughter of a sire freeborn — 
 No Phrygian mightier, wealthier none than he : 
 But now am I a slave. For so the gods, 
 And so thine arm, had willed it. Therefore now — 490 
 For I am thine, thy wife, and wish thee well — 
 I charge thee now by Zeus who guards thy hearth, 
 And by that couch of thine which I have shared — 
 Condemn me not, given over to their hands, 
 
330 AJAX. 
 
 To bear the cruel gibes thy foes shall fling. 
 
 Bethink thee, on that day when thou shalt die, 
 
 And by that death divorce me, violent hands 
 
 On me the Greeks will lay, and we shall live 
 
 Henceforth the life of slaves, thy child and I. 
 
 And then at me shall some one of my lords 500 
 
 Shoot out sharp words, ' Lo ye, the concubine 
 
 Of Ajax, who was strongest of the Greeks^ 
 
 Fallen from what pride, unto what service bound ! ' 
 
 So they will talk. And me such fate will plague ; 
 
 But shame such talk imports to thee and thine. 
 
 Nay but have pity, and leave not thou thy sire, 
 
 So old, so grieved ; pity thy mother too, 
 
 Portioned with many years ; who night and day 
 
 Prays to the gods to bring thee home alive : 
 
 And have compassion on thy boy, Ο prince — 510 
 
 Think, should he live, poor child, forlorn of thee, 
 
 By unkind guardians of kind care deprived, 
 
 What wrong thy death will do to him and me. 
 
 Nothing have I to look to any more, 
 
 When thou art gone. Thy spear laid waste my home ; 
 
 My mother too and father Fate withal 
 
 Brought low, in the dark house of death to dwell. 
 
 What home then shall I find instead of thee — 
 
 What wealth ? My life hangs utterly on thee. 
 
 Nay even of me be mindful. Should not men 520 
 
 Remember, having tasted of delight ? 
 
Α/ΑΧ. 33ΐ 
 
 Ever from kindness should new kindness spring. 
 Who of past joy lets fade the memory, 
 Call me not that man noble any more. 
 
 Chor. Such pity, Ajax, as in my heart I have, 
 I would thou hadst : then wouldst thou praise her speech. 
 
 Aj. Yea, praise in plenty shall she win from me, 
 If but my bidding she is content to do. 
 
 Tec. Nay, Ο dear master, I will not fail in ought. 529 
 
 Aj. Bring then my child to me, that I may see him. 
 
 Tec. Nay, but for fear I did release him hence. 
 
 Aj. Now while this night's ill work was toward — or how? 
 
 Tec. Lest, hapless, had he met thee, he had died. 
 
 Aj. Yea, well indeed it would have matched my fate. 
 
 Tec. But, to avert this, I took care of him. 
 
 Aj. I thank thee for this prudence thou hast shown. 
 
 Tec. How may I serve thee, since these things are so? 
 
 Aj. Now let me speak to him and see his face. 
 
 Tec. Yea, in slaves' keeping he abides hard by. 
 
 Aj. What hinders him to be brought hither then ? 540 
 
 Tec. Ο child, thy father calls thee. Let some slave 
 Whoever in safe hands keeps him, bring him here. 
 
 Aj. Comes he at call, or hears he not thy voice ? 
 
 Tec. Here comes indeed a servant, bearing him. 
 
 Aj. Lift him, lift hither. He will not fear, not he, 
 To look upon this sight of blood fresh-spilt ; 
 Not if he is indeed his father's son. 
 Best lose no time, but in his sire's rough ways 
 
332 A/ A Χ. 
 
 Break him in now, whilst nature takes the mould. 
 
 Child, happier than thy father mayest thou be ; 550 
 
 But like him else — thou shalt not be amiss. 
 
 Nay, even now one thing I envy thee, 
 
 That of this misery no sense hast thou : 
 
 Life's sweetest time is thine, ere feeling comes — 
 
 For 'tis a painless evil, not to feel — 
 
 Whilst joy and sorrow are a lore unlearnt. 
 
 But, when thou art grown to this, my foes must know 
 
 Thee, what a son thou art of what a sire. 
 
 Meanwhile, by heaven's light breezes fanned and fed, 
 
 Nurse for thy mother's joy thy tender life. 
 
 None of the Greeks, I know, shall trouble thee 560 
 
 With their base spite — no, not though I am gone : 
 
 Such ceaseless care of thee shall Teucer have, 
 
 Whom I will leave, staunch warder of thy life, 
 
 Though now we miss him, hunting down his foes. 
 
 But you, my sailors, comrades of the shield, 
 
 On you I charge this kindness for your share — 
 
 Deliver to him my bidding, hence to my home 
 
 To bear this child, and there to Telamon 
 
 Show him, and to my mother Eriboea, 
 
 That he may nurse their old age to the last, 570 
 
 Until they come to Pluto's dusky realm ; 
 
 And let no umpires offer (no, nor he, 
 
 Who wronged me) to the Greeks my arms for prize. 
 
 But thou, my son, Eurysaces, take thou 
 
Α/ΑΧ. 333 
 
 And wear my shield's self, whence thou hast thy name, 
 
 Wielding it by its strap of many thongs — 
 
 The sevenfold impenetrable shield ; 
 
 But all my other arms must share my grave. 
 
 Now quickly take this boy and shut the doors, 
 
 And make no weeping here before the tent. 
 
 Good sooth, a woman is a plaintive thing. 5 So 
 
 Make fast with speed. No wise leech seeks to charm 
 
 With lamentation woe that craves the knife. 
 
 Chor. I am afraid, hearing this eager haste : 
 Too keen-edged for my liking is thy tongue. 
 
 Tec. Ο my lord Ajax, what is it thou wilt do ? 
 
 Aj. Ask not nor question. To be discreet is best. 
 
 Tec. Ah, how I fear ! By heaven, and by thy child, 
 I pray thee, hearken, and forsake us not. 
 
 Aj. Thou weariest me. Knowest thou not, that I 
 Am debtor now no more to serve the gods ? 59 o 
 
 Tec. Refrain thy tongue. 
 
 Aj. Speak thou to those who hear. 
 
 Tec. Wilt thou not hearken ? 
 
 Aj. Thou'rt importunate. 
 
 Tec. Ο prince, I fear thee. 
 
 Aj. Shut fast the doors on her. 
 
 Tec. By heaven, relent. 
 
 Aj. I count thee but a fool, 
 
 If now to school my temper thou art bent. 
 
 Chor. Ο glorious Salamis, I think that thou, [Sir. i. 
 
334 Α/ΑΧ. 
 
 Loved by the gods alway, 
 
 And of all eyes observed, 
 
 Abidest still, lashed by the surging sea. 
 
 But I, the miserable, how long, how long, 600 
 
 For my reward I wait 
 
 From these Idaean meadows, where I keep, 
 
 Losing all count of months, my nightly couch; 
 
 Worn out with waiting and the toilsome time ; 
 
 Nursing a bitter hope, 
 
 That one day yet I shall come home — to the dread doors, 
 
 The darksome doors of death. 
 
 And now consorts with me another grief — \\Antistr, 1. 
 
 New foe that bides its time — 
 
 Ajax, alas me, lodged, 610 
 
 Past hope of cure, with madness from the gods ; 
 
 Whom long ago thou didst send forth from thee, 
 
 In furious fight unmatched ; 
 
 But now not so — brooding on lonely thoughts, 
 
 Great sorrow to his friends is he become ; 
 
 And all the matchless deeds his hands wrought once 
 
 Have fallen, fallen dead, 
 
 And with the sons of Atreus, loveless, miserable, 620 
 
 Wake no response of love. 
 
 Methinks his mother, with life's long-drawn day [Sfr. 2. 
 
 Familiar, and with white-haired eld, 
 
 AVhen she shall hear how with a mind diseased 
 
 Her noble son was sick, 
 
Α/ΑΧ. 335 
 
 Will cry, Alas ! woe worth the day ! 
 
 And in her sorrow pour 
 
 No dirge of plaintive nightingale, 
 
 But loudly weep and wail, 6 3 o 
 
 All in a shrill-voiced song ; 
 
 While on her breast a heavy sound 
 
 Shall fall of hands that smite — 
 
 With rending of her reverend hair. 
 
 Better in Hades hid from sight were he, \A?itistr. 2. 
 
 Whose mind is sick without an aim, 
 
 He who, come hither, by lineage of his sire, 
 
 Best of the toil-worn Greeks, 
 
 To promptings of his natural mind 
 
 Is constant now no more, 
 
 W r ith wild new thoughts grown conversant. 6 4 o 
 
 Ο wretched sire, for thee 
 
 What tidings are in store — 
 
 FalPn on thy son a heavy curse, 
 
 AVhose like no life nursed yet 
 
 Of the Aeacidae save his. 
 
 Aj. The long march of the innumerable hour: 
 Brings from the darkness all things to the birth 
 And all things born envelops in the night. 
 What is there that it cannot ? Strongest oaths 
 Of men, and the untempered will, it bends : 
 {As I, who lately seemed so wondrous firm, 650 
 
 See by this woman now my keen edge made, 
 
336 Α/ΑΧ. 
 
 As steel by dipping, womanish and weak ; 
 
 So that it pities me among my foes 
 
 To leave her widowed, fatherless my child. 
 
 Now to the seaside meadows and the baths 
 
 I go to purge away my stains, if so 
 
 Athene's grievous wrath I may escape. 
 
 And I must go and find some spot untrodden, 
 
 And hide away this hated sword of mine, 
 
 Burying it in the earth where none may see ; 
 
 Let night and Hades keep it under ground. 660 
 
 For from the day I took it in my hand, 
 
 From Hector, from my enemy, a gift, 
 
 Of Greeks I gat no honour any more : 
 
 But soothly says the proverb that men use — 
 
 Foes' gifts are no gifts — no, nor profitable. 
 
 \ Well — I shall know henceforth to bow to heaven, 
 
 (And the Atreidae study to revere : 
 Men must obey their rulers. Nay, how else ? 
 Things most august and mightiest upon earth 
 Bow to authority : the winter's storms, 670 
 
 Dense with their driven snow, give place at last 
 To fruitful summer ; and night's weary round 
 Passes, and dawn's white steeds light up the day ; 
 And blasts of angry winds let sleep again 
 The groaning sea : and tyrannous sleep withal 
 Holds not his prey, but looses whom he binds. 
 Then shall not we learn wisdom, and submit ? 
 
Α/ΑΧ. 337 
 
 And I — this lesson I have learnt to-day, 
 
 To hate my enemies so much and no more, 
 
 As who shall yet be friends, and of a friend 680 
 
 I'll bound my love and service with the thought, 
 
 He's not my friend for ever. For most men find 
 
 A treacherous haven this of fellowship. 
 
 But for these things it shall suffice : and thou, 
 
 Woman, go in, and pray the gods that all 
 
 My heart's desire may be fulfilled in full. 
 
 And you, my comrades, honour me with her 
 
 Thus praying, and bid Teucer when he comes 
 
 Have care of me and all good will to you. 
 
 For I go hence whither I needs must go. 690 
 
 Do ye my bidding ; so shall ye hear perchance, 
 
 That after all my troubles I am safe. 
 
 Chor. I tremble, I thrill with longing ! [Strophe. 
 With joy transported, I soar aloft ! 
 Ο Pan, Pan, Pan, appear ! 
 Come hither, tossed by the sea, Ο Pan, 
 From Cyllene's rock-ridge scourged with snow — 
 The master in heaven of those that dance ! 
 And unpremeditated measures here, 
 Nysian or Gnosian, fling with me ! 700 
 
 For now on dancing my heart is set. 
 And far across the Icarian waters, 
 Lord of Delos, Apollo, come ; 
 Come, plain to see, and partake my mirth — 
 
338 Α/ΑΧ. 
 
 Gracious and kind to the end as now ! 
 
 Lo, Ares the cloud has lifted ; \Antistrophe. 
 
 Despair and dread from our eyes are gone ! 
 
 Now, now, Ο Zeus, again 
 
 May stainless light of a gracious day 
 
 To our swift sea-cleaving ships come nigh : 710 
 
 /When Ajax his sorrow again forgets, 
 \ And serves the gods with perfect piety, 
 ( Pays them their rites and leaves out none. 
 
 For all things ever the strong Hours quench ; 
 
 And nought, I'll say, is too hard for saying ; 
 
 Now when Ajax, so past all hope, 
 
 Against the Atreidae unbends his pride — 
 
 Rage and defiance outbreathes no more. 
 
 Mess. Ο friends, these tidings first I am fain to tell — 
 
 Teucer ev'n now is from the Mysian crags 720 
 
 Returned ; and at the generals' tents, mid-camp, 
 
 By all the Greeks together is reviled. 
 
 Afar they learnt his coming, and they drew 
 
 Together, and thronged about him ; and no man spared 
 
 To pelt him with reproaches right and left, 
 
 But called him, taunting him, that madman's brother, 
 
 His who conspired against the host — no help 
 
 But he should die by stoning, crushed and torn. 
 
 So far they went, that sudden swords outleaped, 
 
 Plucked naked of the scabbard, hilt to point. 730 
 
 Scarce in extremity the strife was stayed 
 
AJA Χ. 339 
 
 By mediation of the old men's speech. 
 
 But where is Ajax — that he may hear my tale ? 
 
 Him it concerns — needs must he know the whole. 
 
 Chor. Not here — hence ev'n now, having learnt to wed 
 New thoughts with new behaviour, is he gone. 
 
 Mess. Ah me, alas ! 
 Upon too tardy an errand was I sent 
 By him who sent me — or I came too slow. 
 
 Chor. Say, what's the urgent business scanted here ? 740 
 
 Mess. Straitly did Teucer charge me, that the man 
 Should not pass hence, till he himself should come. 
 
 Chor. Nay, he is gone on profitable thoughts 
 Intent, with the angry gods to make his peace. 
 
 Mess. These words of thine are full of foolishness, 
 If Calchas knows whereof he prophesies. 
 
 Chor. How prophesies ? What should he know of this ? 
 
 Mess. So much I know, for I was there and heard. 
 Forth from the synod of the assembled chiefs, 
 Without the Atreidae, Calchas came alone, 750 
 
 And grasped the hand of Teucer as a friend, 
 And spake and charged him, with all skill he had, 
 Until this day's sun should be set, to keep 
 Ajax in tent, nor let him go at large, 
 If he would see him living any more. 
 For this one day — he said — and only this 
 Shall bright Athene's anger follow him. 
 For the overgrown unprofitable life 
 
34θ Α/ΑΧ. 
 
 From heaven with dire disasters is o'erthrown — 
 
 So said the prophet — whoso of mortal race 760 
 
 Forgets his birth, more than a mortal proud. 
 
 And he at once, ere he set forth from home, 
 
 Made foolish answer to his sire's wise speech. 
 
 For ' Ο my son,' said Telamon, ' have care 
 
 Thy spear prevail — but with consent of heaven.' 
 
 Who with a fool's speech vaunting made reply, 
 
 ' Father, with gods to help, a man of nought 
 
 May get him honour : but I trust that I 
 
 Shall pluck this glory ev'n without their aid." 
 
 So spake he, boasting : and another time, 770 
 
 At bright Athene, when exhorting him 
 
 She bade turn on his foes his reeking hand, 
 
 Dread words, unutterable, back he flung : 
 
 1 Ο queen, go stand beside the other Greeks ; 
 
 Never near me shall battle break our line.' 
 
 Athene's hot displeasure by such words, 
 
 And thoughts for man too high, did he provoke. 
 
 Only, if this day he lives, so it may chance 
 
 We yet shall save him — if the gods consent. 779 
 
 These things said Calchas. From the council straight 
 
 Teucer arose and bade me bear this charge, 
 
 For thee to keep. But if our care is mocked — 
 
 The seer saw false, or Ajax is no more. 
 
 Chor. Ο poor Tecmessa, born to misery, 
 Come forth and learn the tidings of this man : 
 
Α/ΑΧ. 34ΐ 
 
 For sorrow hard at hand this tale imports. 
 
 Tec. Why will ye startle me from rest again, 
 Who found so late peace from my ceaseless griefs ? 
 
 CJwr. Come, hear this man, what tidings he has brought 
 Of Ajax — grievous news for me to hear. 790 
 
 Tec. Alas, what news ? Speak, man, are we undone ? 
 
 Mess. I know not of thy plight ; but, if this hour 
 Ajax is hence, I fear concerning him. 
 
 Tec. Thy words distract me : hence indeed he is. 
 
 Mess. Teucer enjoins us straitly, in the tent 
 Indoors to keep him — nor let him range alone. 
 
 Tec. But where is Teucer, and wherefore says he this? 
 
 Mess. He is returned ev'n now ; and he forebodes 
 That this outgoing of Ajax ends in death. 
 
 Tec. Alas me, miserable ! whence learnt he this ? 800 
 
 Mess. From Thestor's son, the seer, this very day — 
 Wherein to know imports him death or life. 
 
 Tec. Ah me, my friends, help now my helpless state : 
 Hasten, some to bid Teucer come with speed : 
 Search, some the western, some the eastern bays — 
 His rash outgoing search until ye find. 
 For now I know myself by him beguiled, 
 And of his sometime favour dispossessed. 
 Ah, child, what shall I do ? I must not sit. 
 I will go there, I too, with all my strength. 810 
 
 Let us make haste and go — no idling now — 
 To save this man who is in love with death. 
 
342 Α/ΑΧ. 
 
 Chor. Not words shall prove me ready for the quest ; 
 Quick act and nimble foot shall answer speech. 
 (The scene changes. Ajax is seen, alone, by the seashore.) 
 
 Aj. So stands my cut-throat fitliest for its work — - 
 Give me but time to think this matter out — 
 First, as 'tis Hector's gift, of all my friends 
 Worst foeman, and most hateful to my sight ; 
 Then, as 'tis planted in Troy's hostile soil, 
 New-whet on whetstone hungry for the steel : 820 
 
 And delicately, with care, I planted it, 
 With best good will to give me speedy death. 
 So all is ready, and so, my part being done, 
 Thou, Zeus, be first to help me, as is fit. 
 'Tis no great boon of thee that I shall ask : 
 Send now some messenger and let him bear 
 The ill-news to Teucer, that no hand ere his 
 May lift me fallen about this reeking sword : 
 And let no enemy behold me first 
 
 And fling me forth, to dogs and birds a prey. s 3 o 
 
 Zeus, unto thee my prayer is said : but thou, 
 Hermes, good guide to deathward, give me good sleep — 
 With unconvulsive and with sudden bound, 
 Leaping upon this sword to pierce my heart. 
 Moreover, I call to aid the virgins ever, 
 Whose eyes fail never of seeing wrong done on earth, 
 Far-striding, dread Erinyes — to see 
 How by the Atreidae, hapless, I am undone : 
 
Α/ΑΧ. 343 
 
 And with a swift perdition sweep them off, 
 
 An evil portion for their evil deeds — 8 4 o 
 
 As by this fatal and unnatural hand 
 
 They see me die, grant them to perish so, 
 
 Unnaturally, by their own children slain. 
 
 Come, vengeful Furies, swift Erinyes, 
 
 Spare not, but glut your will on all the host. 
 
 And thou that chariotest the steeps of heaven, 
 
 When on my native land falls next thy gaze, 
 
 Awhile, Ο Sun-god, draw thy golden rein, 
 
 And tell the old man my father — let him know, 
 
 And my sad mother, my sufferings and my death. 
 
 Poor soul, I think that, when she hears the tale, 850 
 
 Loud weeping through the city she will send. 
 
 But now what use lamenting, all in vain ? 
 
 Quick as I may, let me begin this deed. 
 
 Ο death, death, death, come now and look on me ! 
 
 Nay rather — for I shall commune there with thee — 
 
 This present radiance of the shining day, 
 
 Now I invoke, and Helios, charioteer, 
 
 Thee with my latest breath, and never more. 
 
 Ο light, Ο sacred soil of Salamis 
 
 My home, and firm-set hearth of my father's house, 860 
 
 And glorious Athens, and the kindred race, 
 
 Founts and these rivers, and ye plains of Troy — 
 
 All ye have nursed my life — to all farewell ! 
 
 His latest word to you thus Ajax speaks : 
 
344 AJAX. 
 
 To ghosts in Hades shall the rest be said. 
 
 {Falls on his sword, and dies. ) 
 
 Semi-Chor. i. Trouble on trouble new trouble heaps ! 
 Where, where, 
 
 Where have I not made search ? 
 But, that I learnt its lore, no place attests. 
 Lo there, 8 7 o 
 
 Again a tramp of feet ! 
 
 Chor. 2. 'Tis we — your friends — and comrades of the 
 fleet. 
 
 Chor. i. What have ye done? 
 
 Chor. 2. No ground's untrod to westward of the ships. 
 
 Chor. i. And have ye found? 
 
 Chor. 2. Found toil in plenty, and nothing more to see. 
 
 Chor. i. Nay, and no less upon this eastern road, 
 Too plain it is, he's nowhere to be seen ! [Strophe. 
 
 Chor. Will no one tell me, either some toilsome fisher, 
 Busy about his sleepless quest, or nymph 8So 
 
 Haunting Olympian heights, 
 Or streams toward Bosporus that flow — 
 Will no one see him, 
 
 The stubborn-hearted, somewhere roaming, 
 And tell me that he sees ? 
 For hard, too hard, it is that I, 
 I who have wandered far in toilsome search, 
 Still baffled, to no prosperous course attain, 
 But look to find the man unmanned — s g o 
 
Α/ΑΧ. 345 
 
 And evermore in vain. 
 
 Tec. Ah me, alas ! 
 
 Choi'. What cry broke there from covert of the glen ? 
 
 Tec. Ah me, unhappy ! 
 
 Chor. I see the luckless captive of his spear, 
 Tecmessa, yonder, in lamentation plunged. 
 
 Tec. Friends, I am lost and ruined and undone. 
 
 Chor. What ails thee ? 
 
 Tec. Ajax, my lord, lies here, this moment slain, 
 With buried sword enveloped in his fall. 
 
 Chor. Alas my hopes of home ! 900 
 
 Me, prince, thy shipmate, has thy death destroyed ; 
 Unhappy that I am ! and miserable 
 'Mong women, too, art thou. 
 
 Tec. Lament thy fill, for all these things are so. 
 
 Chor. Say, by whose hand did he the fatal deed ? 
 
 Tec. Plainly, his own. His sword whereon he fell, 
 Planted in the earth, convicts him of the guilt. 
 
 Chor. Oh fatal deed for me — 
 How was thy blood poured out, no friend to help ! 910 
 And I, the all-dull, the all-witless, took no heed. 
 Where lies he, where — -alas — 
 The wayward soul, Ajax, the luckless name ? 
 
 Tec. Look not on him : him out of all men's sight 
 Here in this mantle's folds will I enwrap : 
 Since none who loved him might endure to see, 
 From that red gash, and out at nostril, how 
 
34 6 AJAX. 
 
 Spouts from the self-dealt wound the darkened blood. 
 Ah for some friend to lift thee : what can I ? 920 
 
 Where is thy brother ? to compose thy limbs 
 How timely now his coming — might he come ! 
 Poor Ajax — from what height fallen how low ! 
 How fit to win compassion of thy foes ! 
 
 Chor. Was this indeed for thee, unhappy Ajax, \Ant. 
 Stubborn of soul, at last to be the end 
 Of all thy cruel fate 
 Of measureless affliction — this ? 
 To this have brought thee 
 The fierce complainings of thy hatred, 
 Which all night long I heard 930 
 
 Thee pour, and in the daylight too, 
 Against the Atreidae nursing deadly rage ? 
 A great beginner of troubles was that day, 
 Which contest of stout hands proposed, 
 The hero's arms to win. 
 
 Tec. Ah me, alas ! 
 
 Chor. The generous pang goes to thy heart, I know. 
 
 Tec. Ah me, alas ! 939 
 
 Chor. Once and again full well thy grief may sound, 
 Lady, of such a friend this day bereft. 
 
 Tec. Ye deem of things, that I too deeply feel. 
 
 Chor. I'll not gainsay thee. 
 
 Tec. Alas, my child, how hard a yoke our necks 
 Shall carry, toiling beneath such masters' eye. 
 
Α/ΑΧ. 347 
 
 Clwr. Ah me, this last distress, 
 That thou deplor'st, imports a nameless deed 
 Of the Atreidae, of the ruthless pair ; 
 Which yet may gods avert ! 950 
 
 Tec. These things had not stood thus, were gods 
 displeased. 
 
 CJwr. They wrought an all too heavy weight of woe. 
 
 Tec. But dreadful Pallas, child of Zeus, it is, 
 Who for Odysseus' sake breeds all this woe. 
 
 Chor. Doubtless he triumphs now, 
 The patient hero, in his gloomy soul, 
 And laughs loud laughter at our frantic grief. 
 Alas, and, hearing this, 
 With him the kingly pair, the Atreidae, laugh. 960 
 
 Tec. So let them laugh, exulting in his fall. 
 For haply, whom they loved not in his life, 
 Dead, in some battle-need, they may deplore. 
 For foolish men have treasure in their hands 
 And know it not, till from their hands 'tis dashed. 
 Bitter his death to me, or sweet to them, 
 Himself it pleases. What he longed to find, 
 He has it now, death that his soul desired. 
 Why then shall these exult against him now ? 
 His death concerns the gods, not them, not them. 970 
 An empty triumph let Odysseus vaunt ; 
 Ajax for them is not : but in his going 
 Sorrow and anguish he has left to me. 
 
34 8 Α/ΑΧ. 
 
 Teuc. Ah me, alas ! 
 
 Chor. Hush — 'tis the voice of Teucer, as I think, 
 Loud with a strain regardful of this woe. 
 
 Teuc. Dear to my sight, Ο Ajax, Ο my brother — 
 Hast thou indeed fared, as the fame is rife ? 
 
 Chor. Dead, Teucer, is thy brother, doubt it not. 
 
 Teuc. Woe then to me — a heavy lot is mine. 9^0 
 
 Chor. Yea, for these things are so. 
 
 Teuc. Ah me, alas ! 
 
 Chor. Good cause for tears ! 
 
 Teuc. Ο over-passionate haste ! 
 
 Chor. Too rash, too rash indeed. 
 
 Teuc. Woe's me ! but say, 
 
 Where in this Trojan land is now his child ? 
 
 Chor. There, at the tents, alone. 
 
 Teuc. Will ye not then 
 
 Make haste and bring him, ere his foes shall steal him, 
 As when men rob the lioness of her cubs ? 
 Haste now and help and spare not ! all men love 
 To mock the slain foe, prostrate at their feet. 
 
 Chor. Yea, Teucer, and the hero while he lived 990 
 Laid upon thee this charge, which thou dost seek. 
 
 Teuc. Oh of all sights my eyes have ever seen 
 To me most grievous, this which now I see — 
 And bitter to my heart, beyond all ways 
 That I have trod, this way that led me hither — 
 When, Ο my brother, I had learnt the truth, 
 
Α/ΑΧ. 349 
 
 And knew it was thy death I tracked and sought. 
 
 For a swift word of thee, as from some god, 
 
 Sounded throughout the host, that thou wast dead. 
 
 And hapless I who heard it, being far off, 1000 
 
 Made weeping low, but now the sight is death — 
 
 Ah, woe is me ! 
 
 Come now, uncover, let me see the worst. 
 
 Ο thou most hideous, rash, and fatal sight — 
 
 What anguish has thy death bred now for me ! 
 
 For whither can I go, among what men, 
 
 Who, when thou wast afflicted, lent no hand ? 
 
 I think that Telamon, thy sire and mine, 
 
 Would welcome me with glad face graciously, 
 
 Come home without thee. Doubt it not — whose brow ioio 
 
 Lights with no smile — no, not in joyful days. 
 
 What will he hide ? or what reproach not utter 
 
 Of me the bastard, son of the captive woman, 
 
 Whose baseness and whose cowardice betrayed 
 
 Thee, Ο my brother — or else of treachery, 
 
 That sceptre and house might pass from thee to me. 
 
 So will he chide me, choleric, peevish now 
 
 With age, at trifles heated into spleen. 
 
 Last, he will thrust me out and banish me, 
 
 Proved by his taunts no freeman but a slave. 1020 
 
 At home such welcome waits me, and here at Troy 
 
 Are many foes, and few things serviceable. 
 
 And all these things thy death hath done for me. 
 
35 o AJAX. 
 
 Alas what shall I do ? how pluck thee hence 
 
 From this sharp shining sword-point — this whereby 
 
 Ebbed out thy life, thy murderer? didst thou see 
 
 How by dead Hector thou shouldst at last be slain ? 
 
 Consider, I pray, the fortunes of these two. 
 
 Gripped by the girdle which this man gave to him, 
 
 The body of Hector at the chariot-rail 1030 
 
 Was mangled on and on until he died. 
 
 And Ajax, who received this gift from him, 
 
 By this lies dead, slain by the fatal fall. 
 
 Was it not some Erinys forged this sword — 
 
 Hades the girdle, grim artificer ? 
 
 These things and all things ever, for my part, 
 
 I needs must think the gods contrive for men. 
 
 But, whoso in his heart deems otherwise, 
 
 By his belief shall hold, I hold by mine. 
 
 Chor. Cut short thy speech : bethink thee how this 
 man 1040 
 
 Shall now be buried, and how thou wilt reply. 
 For lo, an enemy, who comes, I trow, 
 To mock our misery with his miscreant mirth. 
 
 Teuc. What man, of all the host, beholdest thou ? 
 
 Chor. Menelaus, for whom our ships sailed here to Troy. 
 
 Teuc. I see him, on nearer view not hard to know. 
 
 Men. Sirrah, I bid thee lend no hand to bear 
 This body hence : but leave him where he lies. 
 
 Teuc. Yea, to what purpose was this good breath spent? 
 
AJAX. 351 
 
 Men. Such is my will, and his who rules the host. 1050 
 Teuc. And might Ave hear what reason you pretend? 
 Men. This : that we deemed we brought him from 
 his home 
 To the Achaean host ally and friend, 
 But found on trial no Phrygian more our foe : 
 This man, who purposed death to all the host, 
 And set on us, for midnight murder armed : 
 And, but some god had foiled his enterprise, 
 The fate that he has found had e'en been ours, 
 Slain and o'erthrown by most ignoble death, 
 And he were living now. But some god turned 1060 
 
 From us his fury, on sheep and flocks to fall. 
 And for this cause the man lives not, whose strength 
 Shall so prevail, to give him burial ; 
 But on the yellow sand his corse shall lie, 
 Cast out unburied, for sea-birds to devour. 
 Now therefore lift not thou thy blustering rage. 
 Since, if we could not govern him, alive, 
 Yet surely, dead, do what thou wilt, we shall, 
 And with our hands shall guide him. For, while he lived, 
 No word that I could speak he'd deign to hear. 1070 
 
 Nay, 'tis no good man's part, who should be subject, 
 To shut his ears against authority. 
 How shall a city have good government, 
 Wherein established is no wholesome dread ? 
 Nor can there be good order in the camp, 
 
352 A/A Χ. 
 
 That lacks defence of fear and reverence. 
 
 Yea, though men's limbs wax mighty, let them think 
 
 A little harm may mar their mightiness. 
 
 For, with such fear and with such shame withal 
 
 Hedged round, alone is safety — of this be sure. 1080 
 
 But, where licence and pride go unrebuked, 
 
 Mark well that city; one day she shall sail, 
 
 Sail with fair winds to waft her — to the depths. 
 
 Be seasonable fear my strong defence : 
 
 Let us not think, doing what most delights, 
 
 We shall not pay whatever most may grieve. 
 
 For Fortune's wheel runs round. This man before 
 
 Was hot and headstrong : mine is now the pride. 
 
 Therefore I bid thee not to bury him, 
 
 Lest, burying him, thou too shouldst find a grave. 1090 
 
 Cho?\ Wise maxims, Menelaus, well premised, 
 Wilt thou entreat so wantonly the dead ? 
 
 Teuc. Never, friends, shall I marvel any more, 
 That men who spring from nothing should transgress ; 
 When those whom all men deem our noblest-born 
 Such bold transgressors in their speech are found. 
 What, may it please you say the same again — 
 You say you brought him here to help the Greeks ? 
 Sailed he not hither himself, lord of himself? 
 How owed he thee allegiance? where's thy right two 
 
 To rule the people whom he brought from home ? 
 Thou earnest Sparta's king, no lord of us. 
 
Α/ΑΧ. 353 
 
 No privilege of sovereignty was thine, 
 
 More to dictate to him, than he to thee. 
 
 Captain of others, not over all supreme, 
 
 Didst thou sail hither, that Ajax should obey thee. 
 
 Rule whom thou rulest, and with thy solemn words 
 
 Chastise them : me thy speech shall not affright ; 
 
 Thou, and my lord the other, may forbid ; 
 
 My duty's plain, and I shall bury him. mo 
 
 Think not that for thy wife's sake, like the rest, 
 
 The men bowed down with toil, he joined the host : 
 
 No, but by reason of the oaths that bound him, 
 
 And not for thee : he scorned all nobodies. 
 
 Now therefore bring more heralds : come again — 
 
 Come with the general back ; but yet thy noise, 
 
 For all thou'rt Menelaus, I shall not heed. 
 
 Chor. Such speech in such sore plight I blame no less — 
 Harsh words offend, however just the cause. 
 
 Men. The bowman thinks not meanly of himself, two 
 
 Teuc. For 'tis no base employment that I boast. 
 
 Men. Couldst thou but wear a shield, what boasting 
 then ! 
 
 Teuc. Light-armed, I'd match me with thy shield and 
 thee. 
 
 Men. Fierce is the courage that inspires thy tongue. 
 
 Teuc. Justice to friend, well may a man be proud. 
 
 Men. How just, that this my murderer should have 
 
 honour? 
 
 ζ 
 
354 AJAX. 
 
 Teuc. Murderer ! 'tis strange, if you, the murdered, 
 live. 
 
 Men. The gods have saved my life, no thanks to him. 
 
 Teuc. If gods saved thee, dishonour not the gods. 
 
 Men. Could / arraign the ordinance of heaven ? 1130 
 
 Teuc. When you deny the burial of the dead. 
 
 Men. Yea, of mine enemy : it must not be. 
 
 Teuc. Why, on what field encountered he with thee ? 
 
 Men. He hated me, I him : you knew it well. 
 
 Teuc. You tricked the votes, and stole from him his 
 own. 
 
 Men. The umpire's fault, not mine — his failure there. 
 
 Teuc. 'Tis like thy knavery — to steal and hide. 
 
 Men. To some one's sorrow shall this prating turn. 
 
 Teuc. Not more, I think, than sorrow I shall cause. 1139 
 
 Men. One word for all : this man must not be buried. 
 
 Teuc. And one word back — to tell thee that he shall. 
 
 Men. I saw a man once who was bold of speech, 
 Who chid his sailors on to face the storm, 
 And lo, when by the tempest he was caught, 
 The man lay speechless, covered with his cloak, 
 For all who would to trample under foot. 
 And so with thee, and thy intemperate speech — 
 Out of a little cloud perchance shall blow 
 A mighty storm, shall quench thy blustering. 
 
 Teuc. And I have seen a man so full of folly, 1150 
 
 That he would triumph if his neighbour fell : 
 
Α/ΑΧ. 355 
 
 And one like me, of temper just like mine, 
 
 Saw him and warned him, speaking words like these — 
 
 1 Friend, have a care, and do the dead no wrong : 
 
 For know that, wronging them, thou'lt come to harm.' 
 
 So did he speak, and warned the luckless one. 
 
 And lo I see him, and methinks he is 
 
 None other than thyself. Canst read my riddle ? 
 
 Men. I'll stay no longer. All would cry shame who 
 heard 
 That I used chiding where I might use force. n6o 
 
 Tenc. Therefore begone. Me too it shames to hear 
 Words of a babbler, prating worthlessly. 
 
 Chor. Hard-fought this strife shall prove : 
 But, Teucer, lose no time — 
 
 Find for this man with speed a grave, dug deep enough, 
 Wherein not unremembered he shall keep 
 His mouldering tomb for evermore. 
 
 Teuc. And see where near at hand, and just in time, 
 The hero's child comes hither, and his wife, 
 To deck the poor dead limbs for burial. 117° 
 
 Ο child, come hither, and stand close beside, 
 And to thy father as a suppliant cling. 
 Then sit in suppliant guise, with hair of three, 
 Mine and thy mother's and thine own the third, 
 Such wealth to back entreaty. If any man 
 By force should drag thee from thy father's side, 
 Knave, for his knavery may they fling him forth 
 
35 6 Α/ΑΧ. 
 
 Unburied from the land, with all his race 
 Consumed for ever, and levelled, root and branch, 
 Even in like manner as this lock is shorn. 
 Take it, Ο child, and keep it, and let no man nSo 
 
 Remove thee hence : fall suppliant here, and cling. 
 And ye — no women prove, but men at need, 
 Ready and near to help, until I come, 
 Having prepared his grave — whoe'er forbids. 
 
 Chor. What shall be the sum, [Strophe i. 
 
 And when shall be the ending, 
 Of the tale of restless years, 
 Bearing for me continually 
 Of battle-toil the ceaseless doom, 
 Here on Troy's spacious plains — ngo 
 
 Ο dire disgrace to Greece ! 
 
 Would that the void air, [Aniistrophe i. 
 
 Or all-receiving Hades, 
 Had enveloped first the man 
 Who taught the Greeks with hateful arms 
 To league themselves for war : that man — 
 Ο toil surpassing toil — 
 Laid waste the lives of men. 
 
 No joy of garlands or of goblets deep {Strophe 2. 
 
 Gave he — Ο wretched man — to crown my life, 1200 
 No, nor sweet din of flutes, 
 Nor boon of night-long sleep, 
 And all my days from love, ah me, 
 
Α/ΑΧ. 357 
 
 From love divorced. 
 
 And none heeds how I lie ; 
 
 And night by night with the thick-falling dews 
 
 Of heaven my hair is wet : 
 
 Nights for whose sake I shall 
 
 Remember bitter Troy. 1210 
 
 And once indeed from terrors of the night [Antistr. 2. 
 
 And driven darts fierce Ajax was my shield: 
 
 But he to a cruel fate 
 
 Has fallen now a prey. 
 
 What joy to me then any more, 
 
 What joy shall be ? 
 
 Oh that I might be where 
 
 The wooded wave-washed foreland breasts the sea, 
 
 'Neath Sunium's level heights, 1220 
 
 That I the sacred towers 
 
 Of Athens thence might greet ! 
 
 Teuc. I saw, and came with haste — saw posting hither 
 Whom but the general, whom but Agamemnon ? 
 Some mischief, as I think, he comes to vent. 
 
 Ag. Were thine the blustering words whereof I 
 hear, 
 The licensed jaws that gaped 'gainst us so wide ? 
 What, sirrah, thou — son of the captive woman — 
 Surely, if thy mother had been some noble one, 
 Loud had thy talk been then, dainty thy steps — 1230 
 Thou nothing, that for this nothing wouldst stand up, 
 
358 Α/ΑΧ. 
 
 And didst protest that not for Greeks or thee 
 
 Leaders of ships or armies came we hither, 
 
 But Ajax sailed, thou saidst, himself supreme. 
 
 Is't not too much — such challenge from a slave ? 
 
 What man was this of whom you boast so loud ? 
 
 Where went he, or where stood, but I was there ? 
 
 What, have the Greeks no men now he is gone ? 
 
 Well may we rue the day when to the host 
 
 We set for prize the Achillean arms, 124 
 
 If, come what will, Teucer shall prove us base, 
 
 And, howso beaten, ye will not be content 
 
 To acquiesce in what the more judged right ; 
 
 But either will revile and never cease, 
 
 Or, for the slight's sake, stab us in the dark. 
 
 But, grant such licence, never any more 
 
 Could be of any law establishment, 
 
 If we the rightful winners thrust aside, 
 
 And those that lag the hindmost drag to front. 
 
 It must not be ; for not the burly ones, 12= 
 
 The broad of shoulder, are your safest men ; 
 
 On every field 'tis prudence that prevails. 
 
 How mighty-ribbed the ox, how small the goad 
 
 That drives him straight, the way that he should go ! 
 
 And such good medicine shall be thine ere long, 
 
 Unless thou comest to a saner mind — 
 
 Who of a shadow, of one who is no more, 
 
 Dost vainly prate, bold words and unabashed. 
 
AJAX. 359 
 
 Go to, be wise : learn who and what thou art ; 
 
 And find some man free-born, and bring him here, 1260 
 
 And let him plead thy cause instead of thee : 
 
 Thou'lt waste thy words if thou spend'st more on me — 
 
 I do not understand thy barbarous tongue. 
 
 Chor. I wish to both the wisdom to refrain : 
 There's nothing better for either to be wished. 
 
 Teuc. Alas ! how fast the gratitude of men 
 Fades, and is proved a traitor to the dead ! 
 As, Ajax, now no memory has this man, 
 Not even in slight respects, of thee, — whose life 
 On many a hard-fought field was risked for him : 1270 
 
 But all is now as if it had not been. 
 Ο of all speakers most fluent and most vain, 
 Hast thou so soon forgot that day, whereon 
 This man, when you were shut within your lines, 
 Your battle broken and yourselves as nought, 
 Alone stood forth and saved you, when the flame 
 Had wrapt your fleet, and round the seamen's thwarts 
 Shot upward, and when Hector cleared the trench 
 At one high bound, and swooped upon the ships ? 
 Who saved you then ? Was not your champion he, 12S0 
 Whose foot thou sayest went ne'er with thine to battle ? 
 Did ye not thank him for staunch service then ? 
 Or when alone in single fight he met 
 With Hector, unbidden, singled by the lot ; 
 For in the midst no shirking lot he flung, 
 
3 6ο Α/ΑΧ, 
 
 No clod of crumbling glebe ; but one that should 
 Leap lightly first out of the well-plumed helm — 
 Twas he who did these things, and I was with him, 
 The slave, the son of the barbarian mother. 
 Why, wretch, what face hast thou to say such things 
 Hast thou forgot who was thy father's father, 
 Pelops of old, the Phrygian, the barbarian — 
 And Atreus who begat thee — who, most impious, 
 
 s his brother set his children's fle 
 And thou wast son of a Cretan mother, of her, 
 Whom with her paramour her father found, 
 And to dumb fish consigned her for a prey. 
 Born of such breed, tauntest thou me with mine — 
 Whose sire was no worse man than Telamon, 
 Who for his prowess, he of all the host, tyn 
 
 Won for his bride my mother, a king's daughter, 
 Child of Laomedon : her to my sire. 
 Best of the spoil, gave Heracles for prize. 
 Thus of two noble parents nobly born, 
 How should I do dishonour to my kin — 
 To him whom, fallen in this sore plight, thou wouldst 
 Thrust forth unburied, and hast no shame to say it ? 
 But know that, if ye fling his body hence, 
 Hence must ye fling the bodies of us three. 
 Far better I should die in serving him, 1310 
 
 Die in the sight of all, than for thy wife 
 In battle — thine or thy brother's, what care I ? 
 
Α/ΑΧ. • ι 
 
 Now therefore for thyself, not me, be wise, 
 lor, if thou harmest me, thou'lt wish anon 
 A coward thou hadst been — not bold with me. 
 
 Chor. In season, lord Odysseus, thou art come — 
 So thou wilt help, not tie the knot, but loose it. 
 
 Od. What ails ye, friends? far off I heard loud 
 speech 
 Of the Atreidae o'er this valiant dead. 
 
 Ag. Yea, for what shameful words from this man's 
 lips, 1320 
 
 My lord Odysseus, have 1 heard ev'n now! 
 
 Od. What words? since one who hears hin 
 reviled 
 I shall not blame for waging word)• war. 
 
 Ag. Taunts I flung hack, for he flung taunts at me. 
 
 Od. What word, so fraught with mischief, has he said ? 
 
 Ag. lie says this body shall not be unburied, 
 But he will bury it in my despite. 
 
 Od. What, may a friend speak now, and speak the 
 truth. 
 Yet be thy fellow even as before ? 
 
 . /,:;. Say on : for else were I but foolish — since 1330 
 Of all the Greeks I hold thee staunchest friend. 
 
 Od. Then I will speak. I charge thee by the gods, 
 Think not to fling thus pitilessly forth 
 This man, unburied : nor let passion sway 
 Thy soul to such extreme of hate, to set 
 
362 Α/ΑΧ. 
 
 Thy foot on justice. Once to rne no less, 
 In all the army, since to me were given 
 The Achillean arms, worst foe was he : 
 But not for all his hate of me could I 
 Do him so much dishonour as gainsay 
 That, save Achilles, of all Greeks who came 1340 
 
 ^ Hither, none have I seen so brave as he. 
 It is not right thou shouldst dishonour him. 
 Not at this man, but at the laws of heaven 
 Such blow were aimed. Brave men, if they be dead, 
 Howe'er we hate, it is not good to hurt. 
 
 Ag. Wilt thou stand up for him — Odysseus, thou ? 
 
 Od. Yea, though I hated him, whilst this was well. 
 
 Ag. Shouldst thou not trample now upon him, dead ? 
 
 Od. Such gain were loss : Atreides, love none 
 such. 
 
 Ag. A monarch may not always fear the gods. 1350 
 
 Od. Yet may he heed good counsel of his friends. 
 
 Ag. What the king speaks, let all good men attend. 
 
 Od. Give o'er : to yield to friends is victory. 
 
 Ag. Bethink thee what he was, whom thou wouldst 
 serve. 
 
 Od. My enemy, but noble, was he once. 
 
 Ag. What wilt thou do ? honour a dead foe thus ! 
 
 Od. Far does his worth to me outweigh our quarrel. 
 
 Ag. Unstable still the world calls men like thee. 
 
 Od. Yet many a friendship turns to bitterness. 
 
Α/ΑΧ. 3 63 
 
 Ag. Are these the friends whose friendship thou 
 wouldst praise ? 1360 
 
 Od. 'Tis not my way to praise a stubborn mind. 
 
 Ag. Cowards thou'lt make us seem this day to be. 
 
 Od. Men rather, in the eyes of Greece found just. 
 
 Ag. Thou bidd'st me then to let them bury him ? 
 
 Od. Yes : for I too one day shall come to this. 
 
 Ag. 'Tis even so : each works but for himself. 
 
 Od. Whom should I work for, rather than myself? 
 
 Ag. Thy doing then, not mine, it must be called. 
 
 Od. 'Tis a good deed thou'lt do, howe'er 'tis done. 
 
 Ag. Nay but of this be sure, that, though to thee 1370 
 This grace and more than this I'd gladly do, 
 Dead or alive, all's one — my enemy 
 I count this man. But be it as thou wilt. 
 
 Chor. If any man, Odysseus, doubts that thou, 
 Who hast done this, art wise, unwise is he. 
 
 Od. Yea, and henceforth to Teucer I profess 
 Friendship as true as was my former hate — 
 And I would fain help bury the dead man here, 
 Share in the toil, and nought leave out, of all 
 Toil that for bravest men 'tis fit to spend. 1380 
 
 Tenc. Ο good Odysseus, be thou thanked for this 
 With the best thanks I have ; so hast thou quite 
 Belied my fear. Thou wast his enemy, 
 Thou, most of all, but now thy hands alone 
 Have holpen him, nor him the fallen foe, 
 
364 AJAX. 
 
 Living, didst thou dare with loud mirth to mock — 
 As came my lord the general, crazed with pride, 
 Came with his brother, and with him would fain 
 Have cast him out unburied and disgraced. 
 Therefore may Zeus, lord of the heaven above, 
 Justice who strikes, Erinys who remembers, 
 Slay them for their deservings — these who would, 
 Outraged, dishonoured, have cast forth this man. 
 But yet, Ο son of old Laertes, thee — 
 I fear to let thee meddle with these rites, 
 Lest in so doing I should offend the dead : 
 Help us in all save this ; and, whomso else 
 In all the camp thou'dst bring, we shall not grudge 
 I'll grant thee all the rest : but thou herein — 
 Doubt not at all, thou hast been good friend to us. 
 
 Od. This had I wished : but, if it likes thee not 
 That so I should, I go ; have thou thy way. 
 
 Teuc. Enough : too long already is time 
 Prolonged. Haste, some to dig his grave, 
 And some to place the high-set caldron 
 'Mid wreathing flames, 
 All for the pure ablution ready : 
 And let one band bring from his tent 
 All armour that his shield enwrapt : 
 And thou, child, with what strength thou hast, 
 Touch lovingly and lift with me 
 Thy father's body ; for warm with life 
 
Α/ΑΧ. 3 65 
 
 Each channel still its sanguine tide 
 
 Spouts upward. Come, whoso is here, 
 
 That calls himself a friend — let him 
 
 Make haste and come — come serve this man, 
 
 All-brave, than whom 
 
 None better yet was served on earth — 
 
 Better than Ajax none, say I, 
 
 Whilst life was his. 
 
 Chor. Full many things shall mortals learn 
 By seeing : but, before he sees, 
 No man is prophet of his fate, 
 To know how he shall fare. 1420 
 
PHILOCTETES 
 
PERSONS. 
 
 Odysseus. 
 
 Neoptolemus. 
 
 Philoctetes. 
 
 Heracles. 
 
 Sailor (disguised as Merchant). 
 
 Chorus of Sailors. 
 
pfriloctetes 
 
 Od. nr^HIS is the beach of that sea-cinctured land, 
 -L Lemnos, untrodden and no home of men, 
 Where, oh by noblest of Greek fathers reared, 
 Son of Achilles, Neoptolemus, 
 The Melian son of Poeas I set ashore, 
 And did the princes' bidding, and left him here, 
 Sick with the sore that ran, and gnawed his foot : 
 AVhen at libation or at sacrifice 
 No quietness he gave us, none — but still 
 Filled with his fierce upbraidings all the camp, 10 
 
 Loud-voiced and dolorous. But these things what need 
 Now to recount ? No time for many words 
 Now, lest he learn our coming, and I waste 
 Good wit, that else should snare him suddenly. 
 Deeds now, not words : thine, to perform the rest, 
 And seek, not far from hence, a cave that looks 
 This way and that, whereof at either mouth 
 A man may sit, to feel the winter's sun ; 
 And breezes cool in summer, fraught with sleep, 
 Course through the tunnelled chamber of the rock. 
 And lower down a little, on the left, 20 
 
370 PHILOCTETES. 
 
 A springing fountain mark, if still it flows. 
 Go softly now, and bring me word of this, 
 If near at hand it be, or further hence. 
 So shalt thou hear, and I disclose, the rest ; 
 That to one end together we may work. 
 
 Ne. The errand, lord Odysseus, is not far : 
 Such cave as thou describ'st methinks I see. 
 
 Od. Above us, or below ? I see it not. 
 
 Ne. 'Tis here, above thee : and no footfall sounds. 
 
 Od. See that he lie not in the cave asleep. 3° 
 
 Ne. I see an empty chamber, no man there. 
 
 Od. See you within no comforts of a home ? 
 
 Ne. A bed of leaves, pressed down, where one has 
 slept. 
 
 Od. And is the dwelling empty, save of this ? 
 
 Ne. There is a cup, some sorry craftsman's work, 
 Of mere rough wood : some fuel too lies near. 
 
 Od. These are the household treasures of the man. 
 
 Ne. Alack, and there, spread in the sun to dry, 
 Are rags withal, stained with some sore disease. 
 
 Od. This must be then the place wherein he dwells, 40 
 And he hard by : for how should he go far, 
 With foot so crippled by an ancient hurt ? 
 But either he is gone in quest of food, 
 Or for some painless herb whereof he knows. 
 Set thy companion then to keep the watch, 
 That he surprise me not. To find me here — 
 
PHILOCTETES. 371 
 
 Me, more than all the Greeks — the man would choose. 
 
 Ne. Enough ; I send him : he will guard the path, 
 And now thy further purpose I attend. 
 
 Od. Son of Achilles, not thy body alone 50 
 
 Noble in this day's business must be proved : 
 Paid must the service be, for which thou earnest, 
 Though strange its sound in unaccustomed ears. 
 
 Ne. What is thy bidding ? 
 
 Od. Words, which thou shalt speak, 
 
 The soul of Philoctetes must beguile. 
 When he shall ask thee, who and whence thou art, 
 ' Son of Achilles,' answer : hide not this : 
 But say thou sailest homeward, having left 
 The Grecian host, incensed with bitter hate, 
 Because with prayers they called thee from thy home, 60 
 Seeing that without thee Troy they could not take, 
 Yet, at thy coming, thought not good to give 
 Thy father's arms to thee, who claim'dst thine own, 
 But gave them to Odysseus : and therewith 
 Foulest of foul reproaches heap on me : 
 Thy words I shall not feel : but, this undone, 
 Grief thou wilt lay on me and all the Greeks. 
 For this man's bow and arrows we must have, 
 Or hope not thou to sack the Trojan town. 
 Why freely with no danger thou, not I, 70 
 
 Canst with the man hold converse, thou shalt hear. 
 Bound by an oath to no man thou hast sailed, 
 
372 PHILOCTETES. 
 
 Nor of constraint, nor with the first that came : 
 
 But none of all these things can I deny. 
 
 Therefore, if, bow in hand, he lights on me, 
 
 I die, and shall involve thee in my death. 
 
 But those resistless shafts to steal from him, 
 
 This is thy task ; this compass with thy wit. 
 
 I know thee, that thy nature is averse 
 
 From lying words, or practice of deceit ; So 
 
 Yet, for the prize, success, is sweet to win, 
 
 Consent : some other day shall prove our truth. 
 
 Now for one little shameless hour be mine, 
 
 Give me thyself to-day : and then be called, 
 
 Thy whole life long, most scrupulous of men. 
 
 Ne. What in the telling grieves my ears to hear, 
 Son of Laertes, that I loathe to do. 
 My nature is not to deal treacherously — 
 No, neither mine, nor, as men say, my sire's. 
 But I am ready, not by guile but force, 90 
 
 To bring the man : for with his one sound foot 
 Against so many his strength shall scarce prevail. 
 And yet indeed, sent hither for thy help, 
 I fear to be called traitor : but, Ο king, 
 I'd rather nobly fail than basely win. 
 
 Od. Son of brave sire, I also in my youth 
 Was slow of tongue, and ready with my hand ; 
 But, since I came to trial, I have seen 
 Tongue still go foremost in this world, not deeds. 
 
PHILOCTETES. γ] ι 
 
 Ne. What dost thou bid me other than to lie ? ioo 
 
 Od. Let Philoctetes be entrapped, I say. 
 
 Ne. And why entrapped — why not persuaded rather ? 
 
 Od. Thou'lt not persuade him, and thou canst not force. 
 
 Ne. Relies he then on strength so formidable ? 
 
 Od. On shafts inevitable, and winged with death. 
 
 Ne. Not even to approach him may one dare ? 
 
 Od. Not till we first have trapped him, as I say. 
 
 Ne. Seems it to thee no shameful thing to lie ? 
 
 Od. If lying brings us safety, surely not. 
 
 Ne. Why, with what face shall I outbrazen this ? no 
 
 Od. From profitable deeds one must not shrink. 
 
 Ne. To me what profit, he should come to Troy ? 
 
 Od. That by these arrows only Troy is taken. 
 
 Ne. Then I am not its conqueror, as ye said ? 
 
 Od. Thou with their aid shalt conquer, they with thine. 
 
 Ne. They are a worthy prize, if this is so. 
 
 Od. Know, that this deed twofold reward shall win. 
 
 Ne. Yea, what reward? tell me, and I will do it. 
 
 Od. Both wise and brave together shouldst thou be 
 
 called. 
 Ne. Come what come may, I'll do it, and cast off 
 shame. 120 
 
 Od. Dost thou remember then how I advised ? 
 Ne. Trust me for that, having consented once. 
 Od. Now then remain, and wait his coming here, 
 Whilst I gc hence ; not to be seen with thee, 
 
374 PHILOCTETES. 
 
 And to the ship send back our sentinel. 
 
 And, if ye seem to tarry overlong, 
 
 Back comes again the same good messenger, 
 
 But dressed in sailor-fashion, and disguised 
 
 Out of your knowledge. From whose lips, my son, 
 
 Charged with a riddling speech, fail not to catch 130 
 
 The pregnant sentence ever and anon. 
 
 So to the ship will I, and leave thee here : 
 
 And may good Hermes guide, who brought us hither, 
 
 God of all craft, and she who is my friend, 
 
 Athene Polias, Victory herself. 
 
 Chor. Strange in a strange land, Ο my lord, \Strophe 1. 
 What shall I, what shall I hide, or what 
 Say to the man, suspecting harm ? 
 Instruct me. 
 
 Better than other men's skill 
 Or other judgment, is his, to whose wielding 
 Is committed the Zeus-given sceptre divine : 140 
 
 As to thee has descended, my son, from of old, 
 Such sovereign power : now therefore tell me, 
 How shall I serve in this ? 
 
 Ne. First, for I doubt not ye fain would see 
 Where on the island's skirts he dwells, 
 Look without fear : 
 
 But, when he comes, who from yonder cave 
 Terribly journeying forth is gone, 
 Keep on where my hand shall point you still, 
 
PHILOCTETES. 
 
 375 
 
 And seek to help as the time may crave. 149 
 
 Chor. Care I have cared for all the time, \Antistr. 1. 
 Prince, thou hast charged me withal, to keep 
 Vigilant watch for the moment's need : 
 Now tell me, 
 
 Lodged in what lair he dwells : 
 His home, where is it ? his haunts — reveal them : 
 No ill-timed knowledge were this to win, 
 Lest from ambush he fall on me unawares : 
 What place? what lair? and now where walks he, 
 Within-doors or without ? 
 
 Ne. The house there, with its portals twain, 
 Of his caverned bed, behold. 160 
 
 Chor. Where now is the cave's sad inmate gone ? 
 
 Ne. I doubt not, somewhere hard at hand 
 In quest of food he trails his steps. 
 In such evil fashion, rumour saith, 
 He lives his life, and with pain and grief 
 Slays beast and bird with his winged shafts, 
 And no physician of his woe 
 Comes, and the years go by. 
 
 Chor. Needs must I pity him, to think [Strophe 2. 
 How, with no man to care for him, 170 
 
 And no companion's form to greet, 
 How helpless, ever alone, 
 And with fierce sickness plagued, 
 His mind is racked from hour to hour, 
 
376 PHILOCTETES. 
 
 The instant craving to supply. 
 
 How hapless, how does he endure ? 
 
 Ο dark designs of heaven ! 
 
 Ο luckless tribes of men, 
 
 Doomed to extremes of fate ! 179 
 
 He whom no scion of noblest house \_Antistrophe 2. 
 
 Belike might have disdained of yore, 
 
 Robbed now of all that life requires, 
 
 Dwells out of all men's sight, 
 
 With beasts for company, 
 
 Of dappled hide or shaggy fell — 
 
 Piteous, with hunger and with pain, 
 
 Oppressed by cares that find no cure : 
 
 And Echo's babbling voice, 
 
 Dolorous from afar, 
 
 Chimes to his shrill lament. 190 
 
 Ne. Not wonderful is this to me. 
 From heaven, unless my thoughts are vain, 
 Those woes upon him at the first, 
 From the unpitying Chryse, fell : 
 And, far from help what now he bears, 
 It must be that some god designed, 
 Lest against Troy too soon he might 
 Shoot his resistless shafts divine, 
 Ere the time came, whereat, men say. 
 It shall by them be overthrown. 200 
 
 Chor. My son, keep silence. [Strophe 3. 
 
PHILOCTETES. 377 
 
 Ne. Wherefore ? 
 
 Choi-. Comes a sound — 
 
 Such sound as might pertain to one afflicted so, 
 Somewhere approaching, here, or here. 
 A noise indeed strikes, strikes upon my ears, 
 Of one who walks with laboured tread ; 
 And, nowise indistinct, escapes me not 
 A voice of lamentation borne from far, 
 A voice of wasting pain, a grievous voice. 
 But frame, my son. . . . \Antistrophe 3. 
 
 Ne. Say, what ? 
 
 Chor. Some purpose new : 210 
 
 For now the man, not far from hence, but near at hand, 
 No music of the pastoral pipe, 
 As when a shepherd drives his flocks to fold, 
 Brings with him, but a bitter cry 
 Far-sounding, as he stumbles painfully, 
 Or on the haven looks, no friend to ships : 
 A dreadful cry precedes him, ere he comes. 
 
 Phil. Ο friends, 
 Who are ye, that with sea-dipt oar have touched 220 
 
 These desert and inhospitable shores ? 
 Your country and your race how should I name, 
 And name aright ? The fashion of your garb 
 Is Greek indeed — most welcome sight to me : 
 Yet would I hear your voices : and shrink not 
 With fear and dread away from me, grown wild, 
 
378 PHILOCTETES. 
 
 But, pitying one so wretched and forsaken, 
 
 Lone as ye see and friendless, at my call 
 
 Speak to me, if indeed as friends ye come. 
 
 Nay, answer me : for so much courtesy 230 
 
 I should not miss from you, nor ye from me. 
 
 Ne. Friend, first know this, that, as we seem, we are — 
 Greeks. For of this thou wouldst be satisfied. 
 
 Phil. Ο welcome speech ! Ο rapture, but to hear 
 The voice of such an one, unheard so long ! 
 AVhat need, my son, what impulse, what kind wind, 
 Guided thy bark and led thee to these shores ? 
 Speak, tell me all, instruct me who thou art. 
 
 Ne. The wave-washed Scyros is my birthplace : 
 homeward 
 I sail : my name is Neoptolemus, 240 
 
 My sire Achilles. I have told thee all. 
 
 Phil. Ο son of country dear, and dearest sire, 
 Ο foster-child of Lycomedes old, 
 What errand brings thee here ? whence dost thou sail ? 
 
 Ne. From Ilium my present course I hold. 
 
 Phil. How ? surely thou wast not aboard the fleet, 
 When at the first toward Ilium we sailed ? 
 
 Ne. In that emprise wast thou participant ? 
 
 Phil. My son, dost thou not know whom thou beh oldest? 
 
 Ne. How should I know, on whom I ne'er set eyes? 250 
 
 Phil. Nor yet my name, nor rumour of that grief 
 At all hast heard, that did consume my life ? 
 
PHILOCTETES. 379 
 
 Ne. All that thou askest is to me unknown. 
 
 Phil. Ο miserable, Ο hated by the gods, 
 Of whose sore plight not even to my home 
 Hath reached the fame, nor any Grecian land — 
 But they who cast me out, the impious ones, 
 Laugh to themselves their laughter, and my disease 
 Rankles alway, and grows from bad to worse. 
 Ο child, son of Achilles, see this man — 260 
 
 For I am he whose fame thou hast surely heard, 
 Lord of the bow of Heracles, the son 
 Of Poeas, Philoctetes, whom the two 
 Atreidae, and the Cephallenian king, 
 Cast out with scorn, solitary as ye see, 
 With a fierce malady wasting, stricken down 
 By the man-slaying serpent's furious bite : 
 But here, my son, so plagued, they cast me forth, 
 And left me all alone, from sea-girt Chryse 269 
 
 When with their ships they sailed, and touched this shore. 
 Then on the beach, beneath a sheltering rock, 
 Tired with long tossing on the wave, I slept : 
 They gladly saw, and left me and were gone, 
 And left with me nought but a few poor rags, 
 Matching my misery, and a little food, 
 A scant supply, may heaven give them the like ! 
 Bethink thee, boy, what waking then was mine, 
 When from my sleep I rose, and they were gone ! 
 And how I wept aloud, and shrieked reproaches, 
 
38o PHIL OCTE TES. 
 
 Seeing indeed the ships with which I sailed 
 
 All gone, and no man in the place, not one 280 
 
 To help me — no one who to me, distrest, 
 
 Could minister in my sickness : all ways round 
 
 I gazed and nothing found save pain to see, 
 
 Yea, and of this great plenteousness, my son ! 
 
 So passed the hours — lingeringly they passed — 
 
 And I was fain, lone, in my narrow home, 
 
 Upon myself to wait My hunger's needs 
 
 This bow supplied, and on the wing brought down 
 
 The feathered fowls o' the air : then, what my shaft, 
 
 Sped from the tightened string, had struck, to this 290 
 
 I wretched crawled, trailing my luckless foot — 
 
 To this : and if of water I had need, 
 
 Or when the wintry ground was strewn with rime, 
 
 And faggots were to break, then would I creep 
 
 Forth, as I might, to compass this ; and then 
 
 Fire I had none, but striking flint on flint 
 
 The hidden flame I found — whereby I live. 
 
 Nay, for a roof o'erhead, and fire to boot, 
 
 Gives all a man may lack — save health to me. 
 
 Come now, my son, hear what a land is this. 300 
 
 No mariner comes near it, of his will : 
 
 For haven it has none, nor mart whereat 
 
 He shall make gain of traffic, or be lodged. 
 
 Men who are wise set not their sails this way. 
 
 Yet some touch here, unwilling : for such things 
 
PHILOCTETES. 381 
 
 Sometimes must happen in the lapse of years : 
 
 But these, my son, whene'er they come, in word 
 
 Are kind enough, and some perchance will give me 
 
 A little food or raiment, pitying me ; 
 
 But this they will not, when I speak of this — 310 
 
 Convey me hence ; and 'tis the tenth year now 
 
 I die this living death, poor starving wretch, 
 
 Drained of my strength by this insatiate sore. 
 
 From the Atreidae have I suffered this, 
 
 And from Odysseus : may the gods in heaven 
 
 Requite them for my wrongs like things to bear ! 
 
 Chor. Methinks that like thy former visitors 
 I also pity thee, Ο son of Poeas. 
 
 A T e. I bear thee witness : this which thou hast spoken — 
 I know 'tis truth, how vile the Atreidae are, 320 
 
 And mightiness of Odysseus, having learnt. 
 
 Phil. How then ? against these cursed sons of Atreus 
 Hast thou withal some grudge, by wrongs enraged ? 
 
 Ne. Oh that my hand might execute my rage : 
 So should Mycenae, so should Sparta learn, 
 A mother of valiant sons is Scyros too. 
 
 Phil. Tis a good wish. But wherefore art thou come, 
 Against their lives denouncing thy fierce wrath ? 
 
 Ne. Ο son of Poeas, I know not how to tell, 
 But yet I will, the story of my wrongs. 33 o 
 
 When the death-doom upon Achilles fell 
 
 Phil. Alas — no more, until I first know this : 
 
382 PHILOCTETES. 
 
 The son of Peleus — say you, he is dead ? 
 
 Ne. Yea, dead ; by no man slain, but by a god ; 
 An arrow of Phoebus smote him, and he died. 
 
 Phil. Noble were both, the slayer and the slain : 
 Of these two things I doubt, which first to do — 
 More of thy wrongs inquire, or weep for him. 
 
 Ne. I think indeed that thou hast grief enough, 
 Ev'n of thine own — keep all thy tears for that. 340 
 
 Phil. 'Tis wisely counselled. Therefore tell thy tale — 
 Begin again and tell it — how wronged they thee ? 
 
 Ne. Godlike Odysseus in a gay-prowed vessel 
 Came, and the foster-father of my sire, 
 To seek me, saying — but, if their tale was true 
 Or false, I know not — that, my sire being dead, 
 Troy could be taken by no arm but mine. 
 They with such tidings held me not long time 
 A lingerer from sailing with all speed — 
 First, as I yearned after my father slain, 350 
 
 To see him, yet unburied, whom alive 
 I saw not : and that promise too was fair, 
 If sailing I should sack the towers of Troy. 
 And so I sailed, and on the second day 
 The good ship with good winds to help drew nigh 
 The cape Sigeian ; and, landing, all the host 
 Pressed round me straight, to greet me, and they swore 
 They saw the dead Achilles, come to life. 
 He then lay dead ; and I the miserable, 
 
PHIL OCTE PES. 383 
 
 When I had wept for him a little while, 360 
 
 Came to the good Atreidae, as was fit, 
 
 And asked my father's arms, and what was his : 
 
 Oh 'twas a shameless word they spoke to me : 
 
 1 Son of Achilles, all else that was thy sire's 
 
 Is thine to choose — but those his arms belong 
 
 Now to another, to Laertes' son.' 
 
 But at the word, weeping, I started up, 
 
 Rage at my heart, and bitterly I spake : 
 
 1 What, tyrant, have ye dared, without my leave, 
 
 To give my arms away, and not to me ? ' 370 
 
 Then said Odysseus, for he chanced at hand, 
 
 ' Yea, boy, and rightly have they given them : 
 
 For I was there, and saved both them and him.' 
 
 I answered quick in wrath, and hurled at him 
 
 With all hard words I knew, and spared of none, 
 
 If he should take from me my arms — my own. 
 
 For all his meekness, when it came to this — 
 
 Stung at the things he heard, thus he returned : 
 
 ' Thou wast not, where thy place was, there with me ! 
 
 And, since thy speech is rude, I'll tell thee this — 380 
 
 Thou shalt not sail to Scyros with these arms.' 
 
 So, since I heard him scorn and flout me thus, 
 
 I sail for home, and yonder knave, fit son 
 
 Of knavish sire, Odysseus, has my arms. 
 
 But, more than him, I count the kings to blame. 
 
 The rulers make the city and the camp : 
 
384 PHILOCTETES. 
 
 And all the mischief in the world is done 
 
 By evil teaching that bears evil fruit. 
 
 The tale is told : and, who the Atreidae hates, 
 
 To heaven, as to me, may he be dear ! 39 o 
 
 Chor. Ο haunting the mountain, [Strophe. 
 
 Life-sustaining of all that lives, 
 Earth, mother of Zeus himself — 
 For whom the great Pactolus river rolls over sands of gold — 
 There also, mistress Mother, I called on thee — 
 When on this man sheer scorn the Atreidae poured — 
 On thee, Ο lady, riding on lions, 
 (Strong to rend bulls, but tame for thee) — 
 What time they gave his father's arms 400 
 
 To the son of Laertes, a peerless prize. 
 
 Phil. Ο good my friends, it seems ye come to me 
 W T ith passport most familiar, this your grief: 
 Too well ye chime with me : too well appear 
 The Atreidae and Odysseus in your tale. 
 I know indeed his tongue would stick at nought, 
 Neither base speech nor villainy, whereby 
 He should achieve nought honest in the end. 
 No marvel this to me : but was indeed 410 
 
 Great Ajax there, and did he bear to see it ? 
 
 Ne. Ajax, Ο friend, was dead : had Ajax lived, 
 I had not thus been robbed of what was mine. 
 
 Phil. How say you ? Is he also dead and gone ? 
 
 Ne. So deem of him — no longer in the light. 
 
PHILOCTETES. 385 
 
 Phil. Alas the day! But Tydeus' son, and he 
 Whom from false Sisyphus Laertes bought — 
 They will not die ; who better had not lived. 
 
 Ne. Not they : be sure of that. Oh no, they live, 
 And prosper mightily in the Argive host. 420 
 
 Phil. What of the old and good, true friend to me, 
 The Pylian Nestor? With sage counsels oft 
 Would he refrain the mischief of the rest. 
 
 Ne. A hard lot now is his : for now he mourns 
 For dead Antilochus, his warrior son. 
 
 Phil. Alas, two words of unmixed woe thou speakest — 
 Men of whose death I least had wished to hear. 
 Alas the day! where shall I look, when these 
 Are dead, and here again — Odysseus lives ; 429 
 
 Where would thou hadst told me he, for them, had died ! 
 
 Ne. A clever wrestler he : but clever* plans, 
 Ο Philoctetes, oft are frustrated. 
 
 Phil. He whom thy father loved, Patroclus — say, 
 I pray thee, where in this thy need was he ? 
 
 Ne. He like the rest was dead : in one short word 
 Take all the truth of this : an evil man 
 W T ar does not love to slay, but still the brave. 
 
 Phil. Ay, there thou speakest true ; and on that hint 
 I'll speak, and ask thee of a worthless wight, 
 One shrewd of tongue and clever — what now of him ? 440 
 
 Ne. Who should this be if he were not Odysseus ? 
 
 Phil. Not him I meant, but there was one Thersites, 
 2 Β 
 
386 PHILOCTETES. 
 
 Who ever chose his* windiest phrase, when men 
 Were weariest : knowest thou if still he lives ? 
 
 Ne. I saw him not, but heard that he yet lived. 
 
 Phil. He could not miss. Never aught evil perished, 
 But of all such the gods take tender care. 
 I think the knavish and case-hardened ones 
 They love to turn back from the doors of death ; 
 But still of just and good make swift despatch. 450 
 
 How should I deem of this, how praise, when I 
 Praising their deeds, find still the gods unjust ? 
 
 Ne. But I, Ο son of an Oetaean sire, 
 Henceforth shall take good heed, Troy and the sons 
 Of Atreus not to see, save from afar : 
 And, where the worse is mightier than the good, 
 And brave men fail and talkers bear the sway — 
 The men who'd have it so, I'll not endure ; 
 But me the rocks of Scyros shall suffice 
 Henceforth, nor will I seek another home. 460 
 
 Now to my ship I go. Ο son of Poeas, 
 Farewell — thine utmost, well : and may the gods 
 Release thee from thy sickness as thou wouldst. 
 But let us go : for, whensoe'er the god 
 Allows our voyage, then we must depart. 
 
 Phil. Go ye, my son, so soon ? 
 
 Ne. Occasion calls us, 
 
 Not far but near, for favouring winds to watch. 
 
 Phil. Ο boy, for father's sake, and mother's sake, 
 
PHILOCTETES. 387 
 
 And aught that in thy home thou holdest dear, 
 
 For pity I pray, leave me not thus alone, 470 
 
 Forsaken in what miseries ye see, 
 
 Dwelling with ills, how many ye have heard. 
 
 Make me thine afterthought. In bearing me, 
 
 I know that ye will bear a noisome freight. 
 
 Yet bear with me. Surely to noble souls 
 
 Shameful is hateful, glorious is the good. 
 
 No fair reproach thou'lt win, declining this ; 
 
 Great meed of glory, doing it, my son, 
 
 To Oeta's land if I be brought alive. 
 
 Go : not one whole day does this task employ : 480 
 
 Consent ; where'er thou wilt, aboard thy ship, 
 
 Set me, in hold, or stem, or stern, where least 
 
 Those in the ship my presence shall offend. 
 
 As Zeus above regards thee, hear my prayer : 
 
 Deny me not — lo, at thy knees I fall, 
 
 Maimed as I am and helpless. Leave me not, 
 
 Forsaken here, far from the haunts of men : 
 
 But either to thine own home bring me safe, 
 
 Or to Euboea's strand, Chalcodon's realm ; 
 
 To Oeta thence short passage shall be mine, 490 
 
 And to the ridge Trachinian, and the fair 
 
 Spercheius stream, and to my father's sight — 
 
 My father, of whom 'tis long that I have feared 
 
 Lest he be dead. For oft by those who came 
 
 Full many a sad entreaty have I sent, 
 
388 PHILOCTETES. 
 
 That he would send himself, and fetch me home : 
 
 But either he is dead, or else methinks 
 
 My messengers, as messengers are wont, 
 
 Made light of me (small blame !) and went their way. 
 
 But now to thee my message and myself 500 
 
 I trust — rescue me thou — pity me thou : 
 
 Seeing that all things change, and, if good hap 
 
 Or evil shall befall us, chance ordains. 
 
 We should beware of danger from afar : 
 
 And, when 'tis well with us, then most of all 
 
 Look to our lives, lest ruin lurk unseen. 
 
 Chor. Oh pity him, prince — [Antistrophe. 
 
 Hearing him tell of a battle waged 
 With sufferings many and sore, 
 
 Whose like I pray the gods may never fall upon friend 
 of mine ! 510 
 
 But if, Ο prince, thou hatest, with bitter hate, 
 The sons of Atreus, I in thy place would turn 
 To this man's profit their misdoing, 
 And to the home where he longs to be 
 Upon our good ship swiftly hence 
 I would bear him, shunning the wrath of heaven. 
 
 JVe. Take heed thou yield'st not now in facile mood, 
 And, when thy shipmate's sickness cleaves to thee, 520 
 From this consent art found dissentient then. 
 
 Chor. It cannot be. Nay, such reproach as this 
 Thou shalt not ever have cause to fling at me. 
 
PHILOCTETES. 389 
 
 Ne. Nay then, I am ashamed to lag behind, 
 When thou art eager to befriend the man. 
 So sail we then \ let him aboard with haste : 
 The ship will bear him — it shall not be refused. 
 Only may heaven help us from this land, 
 And whither our purpose is from hence to sail. 
 
 Phil. Ο most glad day, and most beloved of men, 530 
 And ye, kind sailors, would that it might appear, 
 Even by my acts, how grateful ye have made me. 
 But ere we go, my son, let us salute 
 My home, no home, i' the rock — that thou may'st learn 
 On what I lived, and what I have endured. 
 I think that any other man than I 
 Would scarce have borne beholding but the sight : 
 But I perforce was schooled to bear my lot. 
 
 CJwr. Stay, let us learn : for hither two men come, 
 One from thy ship, a sailor — a stranger one — 540 
 
 Hear first their errand — afterwards go in. 
 
 Mer. Son of Achilles, thy companion here, 
 AVho with two more was left to guard thy ship, 
 I charged to tell me of thy whereabouts — 
 By mere good-luck, no forethought, having chanced 
 With thee to anchor on the selfsame shore. 
 For homeward now from Ilium as I sailed, 
 With no great fleet, but master of my ship, 
 To Peparethus with its clustering vines — 
 And heard that of thy company were all 
 
39θ PHILOCTETES. 
 
 The sailors here — so I resolved, that not 550 
 
 In silence, speaking first to thee, would I 
 
 Go forward, dealing with thee as was just. 
 
 I think thou knowest not of thine own affairs, 
 
 What new designs the Argives entertain 
 
 Concerning thee — nay, not designs, but deeds 
 
 Already in act, no longer left undone. 
 
 Ne. My gratitude, good friend, for thy good care 
 Shall in all love abide, or prove me base. 
 But tell me all thy tidings, let me know 559 
 
 What new-hatched plot of the Argives thou hast learnt. 
 
 Mer. The old man Phoenix and the sons of Theseus 
 Have hoisted sail and gone in quest of thee. 
 
 Ne. To bring me back by force or argument ? 
 
 Mer. I know not : I but tell thee what I heard. 
 
 Ne. Do Phoenix and the sons of Theseus this 
 For the Atreidae's sake so zealously ? 
 
 Mer. This thing, know well, they do, and purpose 
 not. 
 
 Ne. AVas not Odysseus ready to sail forth 
 On his own errand ? Did some fear withhold him ? 
 
 Mer. He and the son of Tydeus were about 570 
 
 To seek another man, when I set sail. 
 
 Ne. Whom might Odysseus sail himself to seek ? 
 
 Mer. 'Twas one — But tell me first of yonder man, 
 Who is he ? And what you say, speak not aloud. 
 
 Ne. Thou seest the famous Philoctetes, friend. 
 
PHILOCTETES. 391 
 
 Mer. Inquire no more of me. Take thyself off, 
 And with all speed out of this land begone. 
 
 Phil. What says he, boy? What dark words whispers he 
 To thee — and makes his merchandise of me ? 
 
 Ne. I know not yet : but, what he speaks, he shall 580 
 Speak out, for thee and me and these to hear. 
 
 Mer. Ο son of Achilles, do not to the host 
 Accuse me, saying things that I should not : 
 For many a good turn, as a poor man may, 
 I for my doing receive again from them. 
 
 Ne. I love not the Atreidae ; and this man, 
 Because he hates them, is right dear to me. 
 Then, if thou earnest as my friend, no word 
 Hide thou from me, of all that thou hast learnt. 
 
 Mer. Take heed, boy, what thou doest. 
 
 Ne. I have considered. 
 
 Mer. Thine be the guilt. 
 
 Ne. So be it, only speak. 590 
 
 Mer. Thus then. For this man they of whom I spake, 
 The son of Tydeus and Odysseus' might, 
 Sail hither, having sworn to bring him back, 
 Either by argument or strong constraint. 
 And this distinctly all the Achaeans heard 
 Odysseus promise. For he, more than the other, 
 Was confident that he would do this thing. 
 
 Ne. But wherefore did the Atreidae for this man, 
 After 60 long a time, so greatly care, 
 
392 PHILOCTETES. 
 
 Whom all these years they had cast out and left ? 6oc 
 What longing fell on them, or might and wrath 
 Of heaven, requiting thus their evil deeds ? 
 
 Mer. I, for perchance thou hast not heard this thing, 
 Will tell thee all. There was a noble seer, 
 A son of Priam, Helenus by name : 
 Him, going alone i' the night, this man, of whom 
 Are spoken all shameful and opprobrious words, 
 Wily Odysseus, took, and leading captive 
 Showed openly to the Greeks, a goodly prize : 
 Who prophesied to them what else they asked, 610 
 
 And that the towers of Troy they should not sack, 
 Unless they should persuade this man with words, 
 And bring him from this island where he dwells. 
 And the son of Laertes, when he heard the word 
 O' the prophet, promised them straightway that he 
 Would bring the man and show him to the Greeks — 
 Most like, he thought, consenting to be taken, 
 If not, why then by force : and, if he failed, 
 Who would might from his shoulders take his head. 
 Thou hast heard all : and for thyself, be warned, 620 
 
 And any whom thou wouldst save, no time's to lose. 
 
 Phil. Alas the day ! Did he, that utter bane, 
 Swear to persuade and carry me to the Greeks ? 
 As soon, once dead, persuade me to come back, 
 From Hades, like his father, to the light. 
 
 Mer. How that may be, I know not : but I must 
 
PHILOCTETES. 393 
 
 Back to my ship begone, and may the god, 
 Ev'n with his best of help, befriend you both. 
 
 Phil. Ο boy, how say you, seems it not outrageous, 
 The son of Laertes should so fondly deem 
 That me with honeyed words he could convey 
 On shipboard hence, and shew me to the Greeks ? 630 
 Nay, sooner my worst enemy, that serpent, 
 That made me thus a cripple, would I hear. 
 But nought will he not utter, nought will he 
 Not dare. And soon, I know, he will be here. 
 Let us be going, my son ; that from the ship 
 Of Odysseus many a league of sea may part us. 
 
 Chor. Go we. 'Tis the good speed in the good season, 
 That's fraught with sleep and rest, when toil is o'er. 
 Ne. So let it be. Soon as the head-wind drops, 
 Then we will sail : for now it sets against us. 6 4 o 
 
 Phil. 'Tis ever fair sailing, when one flees from ill. 
 Ne. Nay, but no less to them these skies are adverse. 
 Phil. No wind's to pirates adverse, when there's chance 
 Of stealing, or of plundering by force. 
 
 Ne. Be it as thou wilt. Go, taking from within 
 All that thou needest or desirest most. 
 
 Phil. Some things indeed I need, though small the 
 
 choice. 
 Ne. What is it that in my ship is not already ? 
 Phil. There is a friendly herb, wherewith alway 
 My wound is lulled, and all its pain assuaged. 650 
 
394 PHILOCTETES. 
 
 Ne. This then bring out — what else, now, wouldst 
 thou take ? 
 
 Phil. Some shaft, unnoted, may have slipped aside, 
 Which here I must not leave for men to find. 
 
 Ne. Is this the famous bow, that now thou holdest ? 
 
 Phil. This, and no other, which my hands now wield. 
 
 Ne. May I have leave to gaze upon it close, 
 And handle it, and adore it as a god ? 
 
 Phil. This thou shalt have, and aught that I can do, 
 My son, that may to thee be serviceable. 
 
 Ne. I do indeed desire it — on this wise : 66a 
 
 If so I may, I would ; if not, let be. 
 
 Phil. A reverent speech: 'tis granted thee, my son — 
 For thou alone hast given me to behold 
 This light o' the sun, and the Oetaean land, 
 My aged father, and my friends at home : 
 All's thine — and from beneath my enemies' feet 
 Thou hast uplifted me beyond them all. 
 Fear not : thou shalt have leave to handle these, 
 And give them freely back to me who gave, 
 And boast aloud that thou alone of men 
 Hast touched them, for thy kindness' sake to me. 
 For by a good deed I myself obtained them. 6 7 o 
 
 Ne. To have seen and proved thee friend, repents me 
 not : 
 For, whoso knows to render good for good, 
 More than all wealth I count his friendship dear. 
 
PHILOCTETES. 395 
 
 Go now within. 
 
 Phil. And thou shalt go with me : 
 
 For now my sickness craves thy present help. 
 r Chor. His fame I have heard, not seen him with my 
 eyes, {Strophe i. 
 
 Who to the couch of Zeus made rash approach, 
 How to the circling wheel with chains 
 Him the almighty son of Cronos bound : 680 
 
 But of no other wight I know, 
 By hearing or by sight, 
 AVho with a fate so cruel as this man here 
 Encountered — who, none having harmed or robbed, 
 An equal dealer among equal men, 
 Found all unworthily this lingering death : 
 So that I marvel how, how ever all alone, 
 Hearing the billows beating on the shore, 
 How he endured such life consumed with grief — 690 
 Here, his own neighbour, crippled of his feet; \Atitistr. 1. 
 And mate of his misery in the place was none, 
 None in whose ears he might weep out 
 His woe, and wake response — woe that devoured 
 His heart with pain and drained his blood ; 
 None who might stanch and soothe, 
 With healing herbs plucked from the fruitful earth, 
 The burning oozing issue, when it plagued 
 His wounded and infuriate foot. 700 
 
 But he would crawl, dragging himself along, 
 
396 PHILOCTETES. 
 
 As helpless as a child with no kind nurse to lead, 
 
 Now here, now there, whence he might find relief — 
 
 When for a space the gnawing pain forbore. 
 
 And never for his food might he obtain [Strophe 2. 
 
 Fruit of the sacred earth, 
 
 Nor aught beside, that we 
 
 Gain-getting sons of men call ours, 709 
 
 Save when with winged shafts from his far-shooting bow 
 
 Food for his hunger he might procure — 
 
 Ο wretched soul, 
 
 Who never these ten long years 
 
 Was with the juice of the vine refreshed, 
 
 But ever looked for any standing pool he knew, 
 
 Bending his steps to that. 
 
 Now meeting with a son of noble men, [Anti strophe 2. 
 
 He from his grief shall win 
 
 To greatness and to bliss — 720 
 
 Meeting with one, who now at last, 
 
 After so many months, on shipboard carries him 
 
 Over the sea to his home, the haunt 
 
 Of Melian nymphs, 
 
 On banks of Spercheius, where 
 
 Lo in a glory of god-sent fire 
 
 The lord of the brazen shield a god to the gods ascends, 
 
 From Oeta's heights upborne. 
 
 Ne. Come, if thou wilt. Say why without a cause 730 
 Standest thou mute, thus by amazement seized ? 
 
PHILOCTETES. 397 
 
 Phil. Ah woe is me ! 
 
 Ne. What ails thee ? 
 
 Phil. Heed it not. Go on, my son. 
 
 Ne. Art thou tormented by the returning pain ? 
 
 Phil. Not so, but now methinks the pang is past. — 
 Ο gods ! 
 
 Ne. Why on the gods dost thou cry out ? 
 
 Phil. That they would help, and ease me of my pain. 
 Alas, woe's me ! 
 
 Ne. How is't with thee ? Speak out 740 
 
 And hide it not. Something's amiss, 'tis plain. 
 
 Phil. Ο child, I am undone : I cannot hide 
 This trouble from you. Ah, through me it goes, 
 And through, and through. Unhappy, woe is me ! 
 Ο boy, I am undone, devoured by pain. 
 Out and alas ! Now, by the gods, my son, 
 If ready to thy hand thou hast a sword, 
 Strike, and strike deep, unto my very heel : 
 Stay not, but smite it off: spare not my life. 
 Quick, Ο my son ! 7S o 
 
 Ne. What is this suffering, 
 
 So fresh, so sudden, for the which thou dost 
 Lament thyself with such a bitter cry ? 
 
 Phil. Thou knowest, child. 
 
 Ne. What is it ? 
 
 Phil. Boy, thou knowest. 
 
 Ne. Say, what? I know not. 
 
398 PHILOCTETES. 
 
 Phil. How knowest thou not? 
 
 Alas again, and evermore alas ! 
 
 Ne. Dire is the burden of thy malady. 
 
 Phil. Dire truly, past all telling. But have pity. 
 
 Ne. What should I do ? 
 
 Phil. Forsake me not for fear. 
 
 For this at intervals comes back, belike 
 With wandering when 'tis sated. 
 
 Ne. Hapless thou, 
 
 Hapless indeed in sorest suffering proved ! 760 
 
 What, shall I then take hold ? wouldst thou be touched ? 
 
 Phil. Nay, touch me not : but, even as just now 
 Thou didst desire, take thou this bow, and till 
 This spasm of pain go by, that now has seized me, 
 Keep it with heed. For, when the torment passes, 
 A slumber steals on me : none otherwise 
 Is it appeased : but ye must let me sleep 
 Unvexed. And if meanwhile my foes should come, 
 By heaven I charge thee, yield not up the bow, 
 Nor willing nor unwilling, nor deceived 77 o 
 
 By trickery, to them, lest thou shouldst prove, 
 With me, thy suppliant, to have slain thyself. 
 
 Ne. Fear not my prudence. None but thou and I 
 Shall touch it. So, with good fortune, give it me. 
 
 Phil. Lo there, boy, take it : and to the jealousy 
 Of heaven make thou obeisance, that to thee 
 It may not prove full-fraught with misery, 
 
PHILOCTETES. 
 
 399 
 
 Nor as to me and to its former lord. 
 
 Ne. Ye gods, grant to us twain these things : and grant 
 A swift and prosperous course, whithersoe'er 720 
 
 The god requires, and whither our sails are set. 
 
 Phil. Ah but I fear, my son, thy prayer is vain. 
 Again the blood wells in a sanguine tide 
 From my deep wound : and worse methinks will follow. 
 Alas ! and yet again 
 
 Alas ! how, Ο my foot, thou wilt undo me ! 
 It creeps upon me : nearer 
 It comes, and nearer. Ah me, me, alas ! 
 Ye know all now : ah nowise flee from me ! 
 Out and alas ! 
 
 Ο Cephallenian friend, that through thy breast 790 
 
 Such pain might pierce and fasten on thy heart ! 
 Ah agony ! 
 
 Agony yet again ! Ο chieftains twain, 
 Agamemnon thou, and thou, Ο Menelaus, 
 AVould that instead of me ye with your blood 
 Might feed, no less a time, this fell disease ! 
 Ah me, me ! 
 
 Ο death, death, death, how called and called again, 
 Each day that dawns, comest thou not at last ? 
 Ο son, Ο noble boy, come, take me up, 
 And in yon Lemnian fire, the oft-invoked, 3oo 
 
 Consume me, as thou'rt noble : for so did I 
 To the son of Zeus consent, for meed of the arms 
 
4 oo PHILOCTETES. 
 
 AVhich now thou guardest, such a boon to grant. 
 
 Speak, boy, what sayest thou ? 
 
 Why art thou mute ? Where are thy thoughts, my son ? 
 
 Ne. My heart was heavy for thy weight of woe. 
 
 Phil. Yet, good my son, take courage : for this pain 
 Sudden and sharp returns, and swiftly goes. 
 Only, I pray thee, leave me not alone. so 9 
 
 Ne. Fear not. 
 
 Phil. Wilt thou remain ? 
 
 Ne. Be sure, I will. 
 
 Phil. I may not bind thee with an oath, my son. 
 
 Ne. I am not free to go and leave thee here. 
 
 Phil. Give me thy hand for pledge. 
 
 Ne. That I will stay, 
 
 By this right hand I promise. 
 
 Phil. Now yonder bring me, 
 
 Yonder. 
 
 Ne. Whither wouldst thou be brought ? 
 
 Phil. Up higher. 
 
 Ne. What now distracts thee ? wherefore dost thou 
 gaze 
 Upon the vault of heaven ? 
 
 Phil. Unhand, unhand me. 
 
 Ne. Whither wouldst thou go ? 
 
 Phil. Loose me, I say. 
 
 Ne. I say 
 
 Thou shalt not. 
 
PHILOCTETES. 
 
 401 
 
 Phil. Thou wilt slay me with thy touch. 
 
 Ne. I loose thee then : perchance thou knowest best. 
 
 Phil. Earth, take me here and now, at point to die. 
 The pain no longer lets me stand upright. 820 
 
 Ne. Methinks in no long time the man will sleep. 
 See how his head sinks backward to the ground. 
 Now over all his limbs the sweat is poured: 
 And lo a dark-red stream of spirting blood 
 Breaks from his wounded heel. Friends, come away : 
 In peace we'll leave him, so on sleep to fall. \_Strophe. 
 
 Chor. Ο Sleep unlearned of sorrow, painless Sleep, 
 Hither, soft-breathed, we pray thee come, 
 Come and abide, our lord, abide : 
 
 Screen from his eyes this light s 3 o 
 
 That now intensely glares : 
 Come, healer, come, we pray. — 
 Ο son, bethink thee now 
 Where wilt thou stand, or whither go ? 
 How hence resolves thy thought ? 
 Thou seest, now is the time. 
 Why should we wait to do this deed ? 
 Ever occasion, when it shapes the course, 
 Upon the instant wins great gain for men. 
 
 Ne. But, though he nothing hears, yet I see this, 
 
 That vainly have we made our prize this bow, 
 
 If hence we sail and leave the man behind. s 4 o 
 
 His is the glory, him the god bade bring. 
 
 2 c 
 
402 PH1L0CTETES. 
 
 Foul shame, to falsely boast a task undone ! 
 
 Chor. But, Ο my son, let the god look to that. [Ant. 
 But, when thou answerest me again, 
 Breathe low, I pray thee, low, my son, 
 The voice of thy reply. 
 Sleepless is sick men's sleep, 
 Quick-eyed, perceiving all. 
 But now, far as thou canst, 
 
 Devise how secretly that task, s 5 o 
 
 That task, thou shalt perform. 
 For . . . whom I mean thou knowest . . . 
 I name them not ... if, urged by them, 
 This course thou holdest, to a prudent view 
 With troubles insurmountable 'tis fraught. 
 The wind, my son, the wind sits fair : \Epode. 
 
 And reft of sight, cut off from help, 
 The man stretched out in darkness lies, 
 (Sleep in the noontide heat is sound,) 
 Moving not hand or foot, 
 But robbed of all his powers — 
 
 Like one who lies at point to die, 860 
 
 With no more sight than his. 
 Look, if thy speech be seasonable. 
 For, son, if thought of mine can seize the truth, 
 The enterprise not fraught with fear is best. 
 
 Ne. Keep silence : start not from thy constant mind. 
 His eyes are opening ; now he lifts his head. 
 
PHIL OCTE TES. 403 
 
 Phil. Ο sunlight after sleep, and, by my hopes 
 Undreamed of, watchful care of these my friends ! 
 For this, my son, I had not dared to boast, 
 Thou wouldst endure thus for my pain to wait, 870 
 
 Compassionately, with presence and with help. 
 Not all so easily to bear with me 
 Endured the Atreidae, those good generals. 
 But noble-natured of a noble strain 
 Thou, Ο my son, didst of these things make light, 
 Howe'er oppressed with clamour and with stench. 
 And now that all my pain has found, it seems, 
 Forgetfulness and respite for a while, 
 Now lift me, boy, thyself, upon my feet, 
 That, when the anguish shall release me quite, 880 
 
 We may aboard with haste, nor stay, but sail. 
 
 Ne. Right glad am I to see thee, past all hope, 
 Freed from thy pain, living and breathing still. 
 For as of one who was no more, so seemed, 
 Regarding then thy plight, the signs of thee. 
 But now lift up thyself; or, if thou wilt, 
 These men shall bear thee : for they will not shrink, 
 Since thus we are resolved, both thou and I. 
 
 Phil. My son, I thank thee ; and, as thou art kind, 
 Lift me : let be these men, lest, ere the time, 3 9 o 
 
 They with the stench be sickened : on the ship 
 They'll have enough to bear, to dwell with me. 
 
 Ne. It shall be so : rise, and thyself hold fast. 
 
404 PHILOCTETES. 
 
 PJiil. Fear not : long used to this, I shall not fall. 
 
 Ne. Alas, what should I do, then, after this ? 
 
 Phil. My son, what ails thee? Whither starts thy 
 speech ? 
 
 Ne. My words entangle me : what must I do ? 
 
 Phil. What has perplexed thee ? Say not so, my son. 
 
 Ne. It is with me already as I say. 
 
 Phil. Does then the noisomeness of my complaint 900 
 Make thee repent? Thou wilt not bear me hence? 
 
 Ne. Whatever is, is noisome, when a man, 
 False to his nature, does what he should not. 
 
 Phil. Neither in deed nor word hast thou been found 
 Unlike thy sire, helping a noble man. 
 
 Ne. I shall be found base : this distresses me. 
 
 Phil. Not in thy deeds : but in thy words — I doubt. 
 
 Ne. Zeus, help me now ! Must I prove base again — 
 Hide what I should not, and speak shameful words ? 
 
 Phil. This man, unless my judgment greatly errs, 910 
 Means to be false, and sail and leave me here. 
 
 Ne. Not leave thee — no : but, that I grieve thee more 
 Bearing thee hence, 'tis this that troubles me. 
 
 Phil. AVhat meanest thou, my son? thy words are dark. 
 
 Ne. I will speak out. Thou shalt sail hence to Troy, 
 To the Greek camp, the Atreidae and their host. 
 
 Phil. Alas ! how sayest thou ? 
 
 Ne. Grieve not, but hear. 
 
 Phil. What must I hear ? what wilt thou do to me ? 
 
PHIL OCTE TES. 405 
 
 Ne. Rescue thee first out of this misery; 
 Then go, lay waste with thee the plains of Troy. 920 
 
 Phil. Wilt thou indeed do this ? 
 
 Ne. Much need of this 
 
 Constrains me : be not thou incensed to hear it. 
 
 Phil. Miserable that I am, undone, betrayed ! 
 What hast thou done ? Quickly give back my bow. 
 
 Ne. I may not do it. For to obey my chiefs 
 By duty and advantage I am bound. 
 
 Phil. Fire that thou art, and monster of utter fear, 
 Fell knavery's most hateful masterpiece, 
 What hast thou done to me? how hast thou tricked me? 
 And art thou not ashamed to look on me, 
 Thy suppliant, thy petitioner — Ο shameless ? 930 
 
 Taking my bow, thou hast robbed me of my life. 
 Give back, my son, I pray thee, give it back. 
 Nay, by our country's gods, steal not my life. 
 Ah me unhappy ! He speaks to me no more : 
 His face makes answer, he will keep his prize. 
 Ο harbours, and Ο headlands, ye wild beasts 
 Of the mountain, comrades mine — and ye steep cliffs — 
 To you — I know not else to whom — to you, 
 My wonted company, I cry aloud 
 
 What things Achilles' son has done to me : 940 
 
 Swearing to bring me home, to Troy he takes me : 
 And, spite of pledged right hands, my sacred bow, 
 The bow of Heracles, whom Zeus called son, 
 
4 o6 PHILOCTETES. 
 
 Keeps, and to the Argive host would fain display. 
 
 Even as some mighty man, taken by his strength, 
 
 He hales me hence ; and knows not that he slays 
 
 One dead already, shadow of a smoke, 
 
 Mere phantom of a man. For in my strength 
 
 He had not taken me : since even thus 
 
 He could not, but by guile. But now, entrapped, 
 
 Luckless, what shall I do ? Nay, but give back ! 
 
 Nay, but ev'n now be master of thyself ! 950 
 
 Speak to me. Thou art silent. I am nought . . . 
 
 ... Ο two-mouthed aspect of the cave I know, 
 
 Robbed, and without the means to live, to thee 
 
 I must return, and there beneath thy shade 
 
 My lonely life shall waste itself away; 
 
 And no winged bird, no mountain-roaming beast, 
 
 These shafts shall slay, but I myself shall die, 
 
 Unhappy, and make a feast for these, whereby 
 
 I once was fed : they whom I hunted then 
 
 Shall make their prey of me, and I shall render 
 
 My life a forfeit for the lives of them — 
 
 Slain by this all so guileless-seeming man. 960 
 
 Perish — not yet : no, not until I learn 
 
 If thou wilt change thy purpose still : if not — 
 
 Miserably I pray that thou may'st die ! 
 
 Chor. What shall we do? With thee, our prince, 
 remains 
 That we should sail or hearken to his words. 
 
PHIL OCT Ε TES. 407 
 
 Ne. A pang of pity has smitten through my heart, 
 Long since, not only now, because of him. 
 
 Phil. By heaven, my son, have pity, and suffer not 
 Reproach of men, that me thou didst deceive. 
 
 Ne. What shall I do ? Would I had never left 
 Scyros : so grieves me this which now I bear. 970 
 
 Phil. Thou art not base : methinks thou hast come 
 hither, 
 From base men having learnt a shameful lesson. 
 Leave this for others, for whom such deeds are fit, 
 And sail from hence, but give me back my bow. 
 
 Ne. Ο friends, what must we do ? [Odysseus enters. 
 
 Od. Basest of men, 
 
 What dost thou ? Back, and give this bow to me ! 
 
 Phil. Ah, who is this ? Odysseus do I hear ? 
 
 Od. Odysseus, whom thou seest, doubt not, am I. 
 
 Phil. Ah, I am sold — undone ! So this was he 
 Who trapped me thus and robbed me of my arms ? 
 
 Od. 'Twas I, be sure, no other : I confess it. 980 
 
 Phil. Ο boy, give back, give up, to me the bow. 
 
 Od. That shall he not, howe'er he would. But thou 
 Thyself withal must go along with these, 
 Or they shall bring thee hence by force away. 
 
 Phil. Basest of men and boldest, me shall these 
 Bear hence by force ? 
 
 Od. If thou go not, consenting. 
 
 Phil. Ο Lemnian land, and thou, all-conquering flame, 
 
4o8 PHILOCTETES. 
 
 Hephaestos-kindled — how may this be borne, 
 
 That, from thy realm, this man by force should drag me ? 
 
 Od. Zeus, let me tell thee, Zeus, who rules this land — 
 'Tis Zeus that so will have it. Him I serve. 990 
 
 Phil. Man whom I hate, what wilt thou find to say ? 
 Prating of gods, thy gods thou makest false. 
 
 Od. Not so, but true. Thou must go hence with us. 
 
 Phil. I will not go. 
 
 Od. I say thou shalt. Obey. 
 
 Phil. Ah me, unhappy ! Plainly my father then 
 Begat me for a slave, and no free man. 
 
 Od. Not so, but equal with the best, with whom 
 Thou shalt take Troy, and lay it in the dust. 
 
 Phil. Never : not though I must endure the worst, 
 So long as here I stand on this high rock. 1000 
 
 Od. What wouldst thou do ? 
 
 Phil. Fling myself down from hence, 
 
 And dash my brains out on the rocks below. 
 
 Od. Lay hold of him. Disarm him of his threats. 
 
 Phil. Ο hands, what things ye suffer, since I lack 
 My own good bow, bound by this man his prey. 
 Ο thou most base and most ungenerous, 
 How hast thou stolen upon me — snared me how — 
 Skulking behind this boy, whom I knew not — 
 Too good for thee, but not for me too good — 
 Who knew not save to do the task enjoined ; 1010 
 
 But even now conceals not his remorse, 
 
PHIL OCTE PES. 409 
 
 Both for his own fault and the wrong to me. 
 But thy base soul, still from its ambush peering, 
 Taught him too well, albeit unapt and loth, 
 To play his ill part with the proper craft. 
 And now, wretch, wilt thou bind me hand and foot, 
 And drag me from this shore, whereon 'twas thou, 
 Friendless, forsaken, citiless didst fling me, 
 Lifeless among the living ? Woe is me ! 
 Full often have I cursed, and curse thee now. 
 But, for the gods do nought of my desiring, 
 A charmed life thou leadest, and art glad ; 
 But life itself is bitterness to me, 
 A piteous life, consumed with misery, 
 Mocked at by thee and by the sons of Atreus, 
 Thy two great captains, whom thou servest here. 
 Yet thou, ensnared and by compulsion bound, 
 Didst sail with them, but me, the miserable, 
 Who sailed of mine own choice, and seven ships 
 Sailed with me, me did they cast out with scorn — 
 It was their deed, thou sayest, but they, 'twas thine. 
 And now why drag ye me, why hale me hence ? 
 Me, who am nought, and dead long since for you. 
 Ο thou most impious, how am I not now 
 Crippled and noisome ? How will ye presume, 
 With me o' the fleet, to offer sacrifice 
 To heaven, or pour libations any more ? 
 For this was thy pretence to cast me out. 
 
4 ίο PHILOCTETES. 
 
 I curse you : and my curse ye shall not 'scape, 
 
 So having wronged me, if the gods love right. 
 
 Yea and I know they love it ; for not else 
 
 Would ye have hither sailed for one so wretched, 
 
 But that some goad from heaven stung you for me. 
 
 Ο fatherland and ye regardful gods, 1040 
 
 Long-lingering, now, now let your vengeance fall, 
 
 If ye have pity of me, and spare them not ! 
 
 For piteous life is mine, yet, might I see 
 
 Their ruin, healed of my sickness I should seem. 
 
 Chor. The man is wroth, Odysseus, and has spoken 
 A wrathful word, defiant of thy threats. 
 
 Od. Much might I say in answer to his speech, 
 Would time serve ; now one word is all I may. 
 For, where such men are wanted, such am I ; 
 And when the question is of just and good, 1050 
 
 None shall ye find more scrupulous than I, 
 Only my will is to be vanquished — never : 
 Never save now : but now have thou thy way. 
 Loose him, and lay no hand on him again. 
 Here let him bide. In truth we need thee not, 
 Having these arms of thine : for there with us 
 Is Teucer, who is perfect in this craft; 
 And I myself with no worse skill than thine 
 Could wield these shafts and speed them to their aim. 
 Why then, what need of thee ? To pace thy Lemnos 1060 
 We'll leave thee, and depart. Perchance thine orifice 
 
PHILOCTETES. 4" 
 
 Honour, which thou hast scorned, may win for me. 
 
 Phil. Unhappy that I am, what shall I do ? 
 What, shalt thou flaunt my arms among the Greeks ? 
 
 Od. Waste not thy words : I go ; gainsay me not. 
 
 Phil. Son of Achilles, wilt thou too depart 
 And leave me, silent, thus, without a word ? 
 
 Od. Come thou : look not at him, although thy heart 
 Is noble, lest our fortune thou shouldst wreck. 
 
 Phil. And by you also, friends, shall I be left ™ 7 o 
 
 Thus desolate, and will ye have no pity ? 
 
 Chor. This boy is captain of our crew : whate'er 
 He says to thee, his answer shall be ours. 
 
 Ne. Odysseus, that I know, will say of me 
 That I am weak. But yet remain, if so 
 This man desires, so long a time, until 
 The sailors have made ready with the ship, 
 And to the gods our prayer is said. Perchance 
 Meanwhile the man may get a better mind 
 Towards us. We therefore hasten hence, we twain : 
 And when we call, haste you, and make good speed. ioSo 
 
 Phil. Ο chamber of the hollow rock, \Strophe i. 
 
 So hot, so freezing cold, 
 How, as it seems, oh wretched that I am, 
 I never was to leave thee, but shall die 
 With no companionship but thine. 
 Woe, woe for me ! 
 Ο cave, Ο melancholy cave, 
 
412 
 
 PHILOCTETES. 
 
 Most full of my distress, 
 
 What now shall be my life from day to day ? 
 
 Whence shall I get, oh miserable, io 5 c 
 
 What hope of food to eat ? 
 
 Oh would that upward through the air 
 
 On loud-resounding gale 
 
 The birds that cowered would snatch me hence : 
 
 I am defenceless now. 
 
 Chor. Thou, thou thyself hast willed it so, [Strophe 2. 
 Ο thou unfortunate, 
 And by no other will than thine, 
 And no resistless strength, 
 Art thou condemned to suffer thus ; 
 When, being free wisely to choose, 
 Thou didst reject the better fate, 
 And hast preferred the worse. no 
 
 Phil. Oh hapless, hapless then am I, \Antistrophe 1, 
 Consumed with misery ! 
 
 Who now henceforth must dwell for time to come 
 Here with no man to bear me company, 
 Alone, unfriended, till I die. 
 Woe, woe for me ! 
 And I no more can get me food 
 With my wing'd shafts, no more, 
 Grasping between stout hands the friendly bow. 
 But unsuspected treacherous words, m 
 
 Masking a false intent, 
 
PHILOCTETES. 413 
 
 Beguiled me. Might I see him yet, 
 The author of this plot, 
 Ev'n for no less a time consigned 
 To anguish such as mine. 
 
 Chor. By fate, by heaven-appointed fate, [Ant. 2. 
 Thou art afflicted thus : 
 It was no treacherous act of mine 
 That brought thee to this pass. 
 Let others feel, who have deserved. 
 Thy bitter and disastrous curse : «20 
 
 For fain indeed were I, that thou 
 Shouldst not reject my love. 
 
 Phil. Alas me, and methinks [Strophe 3. 
 
 Upon the grey sea-beach 
 He sits and mocks at me, 
 Brandishing in his hand the life 
 Of me, ill-starred — the bow 
 Which no man else hath borne. 
 Ο wrested from these friendly hands, 
 Ο kindly bow, if thou » 
 Hast any heart to feel, 
 Me, comrade once of Heracles, 
 
 With pity thou regardest : n 3 o 
 
 Who now no more in days to come 
 Shall handle thee ; but thou shalt play thy part 
 With, for thy new-found lord, 
 A lord of trickery, 
 
4H PHILOCTETES. 
 
 And on base stratagems must look, 
 
 And on the hateful presence of my foe, 
 
 Bringing to pass by shameful means 
 
 His projects — numberless as were 
 
 The mischiefs that he wove for me. «39 
 
 Chor. Justice 'tis good for a man to praise, [Strophe 4. 
 But, having praised it, then not to shoot 
 Forth from his lips resentful spleen. 
 And he, the one, the chosen of the host, 
 Obeying their behest, 
 Served thus the common good of all his friends. 
 
 Phil. Ο birds of the air, my prey, \Antistrophe 3. 
 
 And tribes of bright-eyed beasts, 
 That in this place abide, 
 And on the mountains find your food, 
 Scared from my cave no more, 
 Ye will approach me now : 
 
 For now I hold not in my hands 1150 
 
 The mighty shafts of yore — 
 Oh helpless that I am — 
 But faintly warded is this place, 
 That you no more should fear it. 
 Come on : fair time is now to glut 
 Your retributive jaws to heart's content 
 Upon my quivering flesh. 
 For soon shall I be dead : 
 Where shall I find whereon to live ? 
 
PHIL OCTE TES. 4 1 5 
 
 Who lives with feeding thus on air, 
 
 Robbed of his former strength, and now 
 
 Of all those gifts possessing none, 
 
 From the life-giving earth that come ? 1160 
 
 Chor. If thou regardest at all a friend, \Antistrophe 4. 
 One who draws near in good will to thee, 
 Draw near, by heaven ; and think, think well, 
 'Tis thine to 'scape this sickness, sad to feed, 
 And all unskilled to bear 
 The myriad weight of woe that with it dwells. 
 
 Phil. Again dost thou remind me 
 Of the former grief, again — 
 Noblest of all men, thou, 
 
 That ever in this place set foot ? n 7 o 
 
 Why wilt thou slay me ? How hast thou undone me ! 
 
 Chor. What meanest thou ? 
 
 Phil. That thou didst hope to bring me 
 Hence to the hated Trojan land. 
 
 Chor. For this, I deem, is best. 
 
 Phil. Begone and leave me now. 
 
 Chor. Welcome, welcome the task thou hast enjoined, 
 To do what I desire. 
 Let us go hence, go hence, 
 Each to our place and business in the ship. 1180 
 
 Phil. By Zeus, who hears the curse — go not, I pray you ! 
 
 Chor. Calm thyself. 
 
 Phil. Friends, in heaven's name, remain ! 
 
4i 6 PHILOCTETES. 
 
 Chor. Why dost thou call on us ? 
 
 Phil. Alas my fate ! my fate, alas ! 
 Unhappy, I am undone ! 
 Ο foot, my foot, now in the life that follows, 
 What shall I make of thee, ill-starred ? 
 Ο friends, come back, retrace your steps ! 1190 
 
 Chor. What should we do, of contrary intent 
 To that thou didst enjoin on us before ? 
 
 Phil. Small cause for anger, 
 If one with tempestuous grief distraught 
 Shall sometimes speak a senseless word. 
 
 Chor. Come with us, hapless one, as we exhort thee. 
 
 Phil. Never, know this for a surety, never — 
 Not though the lord of the lightning 
 Comes with his blazing bolts, with the withering blast 
 Of his thunderous flame enwraps me : 
 Perish Ilium rather, 1200 
 
 And perish the host that its wall encircles — 
 The pitiless ones who this poor lame foot of mine 
 Spared not to spurn from them. 
 Yet, Ο my friends, this one prayer grant me ! 
 
 Chor. What is the prayer thou wilt ask of us ? 
 
 Phil. A sword can ye find for me — 
 Or an axe, or some dart, deny me not. 
 
 Chor. Say what rash deed wouldst thou do with it ? 
 
 Phil. Strike off my head with my hand, and my limbs, 
 One by one : for on death, on death 
 
PHIL OCTE TES. 4 1 7 
 
 Is my mind set now. 
 
 Chor. Why wouldst thou this ? 
 
 Phil. So my sire I might seek. 12 10 
 
 Chor. Where wouldst thou seek him ? 
 
 Phil. In the halls of the dead : 
 
 Since in the light no more shall I find him. 
 Ο city, Ο land of my home, 
 Would I might see thee — I the unhappy — 
 Who thy sacred stream forsook, 
 And to help the Greeks, whom I hate, went forth : 
 Undone — undone ! 
 
 Chor. Long since I should have left thee, and returned, 
 And near my ship I should have been ere now, 
 But that I saw Odysseus drawing nigh, 1220 
 
 And coming towards us hither Achilles' son. 
 
 Od. Wilt thou not tell me, on what errand bound 
 Back hither again in such hot haste thou comest ? 
 
 Ne. To undo the sin that I before committed. 
 
 Od. Thou speakest riddles : what sin didst thou 
 commit ? 
 
 Ne. That which, obeying thee and all the host 
 
 Od. What thing didst thou, that thou shouldst not 
 have done ? 
 
 Ne. Taking a man with base deceit and guile 
 
 Od. What man ? alas — dost thou intend some mis- 
 chief? 1229 
 
 Ne. No mischief truly ; but to the son of Poeas 
 
 2 D 
 
4i8 PH1L0CTETES. 
 
 Od. What wilt thou do ? How am I filled with fear ! 
 
 Ne. From whom I took this bow, to him again 
 
 Od. Zeus, and what then ? thou wilt not give it back ? 
 
 Ne. For shamefully and wrongfully I took it. 
 
 Od. By heaven, in mockery dost thou say these 
 things ? 
 
 Ne. If it be mockery to speak the truth. 
 
 Od. What word, son of Achilles, hast thou spoken ? 
 
 Ne. The same words twice and thrice shall I repeat ? 
 
 Od. Would I had never heard them — no, not once ! 
 
 Ne. Know now full certainly — my say is said. 1240 
 
 Od. Yet is there one, one still, who shall prevent thee. 
 
 Ne. How ? who is he that shall forbid me this ? 
 
 Od. All the Greek host shall do it, and I for one. 
 
 Ne. Wise is thy wit, but all unwise thy speech. 
 
 Od. Neither thy speech is wise, nor thine intent. 
 
 Ne. But if 'tis just — why, this is more than wisdom. 
 
 Od. How just, what by my counsels thou didst win, 
 Thou shouldst give back ? 
 
 Ne. The sin that I have sinned, 
 
 For it is shameful, I would fain repair. 
 
 Od. Fearest thou not the Greek host, doing this ? 1250 
 
 Ne. Justice to friend, thy terrors daunt me not. 
 
 Od. With thee, then, not with Trojans, must we fight. 
 
 Ne. But in thy hand, to do it, I put no faith. 
 
 Od. Then come what will come ! Seest thou my right 
 hand 
 
PHILOCTETES. 419 
 
 Gripping the hilt ? 
 
 Ne. But me thou too shalt see 
 
 Doing the selfsame thing, and not delaying. 
 
 Od. Nay, I will let thee be : but I will go 
 And tell the host, and they shall punish thee. 
 
 Ne. Thou'rt wise in time : still keep such prudent 
 mind, 
 Out of harm's way perchance thou'lt keep thy foot. 1260 
 But thou, Ο son of Poeas, Philoctetes, 
 Leave now thy cave in the rock there, and come forth. 
 
 Phil. What means this noise of voices by my cave ? 
 Why do ye call me, friends ? What is your business ? 
 Alas, an evil business ! Are ye come, 
 Some great affliction to my grief to add ? 
 
 Ne. Fear not, but hearken to the words I bring. 
 
 Phil. I trust thee not : since from fair words before, 
 Thy words, which I believed, I fared but ill. 
 
 Ne. Is there no room then for repentance now ? 1270 
 
 Phil. When thou wouldst steal my bow, such wast 
 thou then, 
 Plausive in speech — with mischief in thy heart. 
 
 Ne. But now not so : but this I fain would hear, 
 Art thou resolved persistently to stay, 
 Or wilt thou sail with us ? 
 
 Phil. Cease, say no more ; 
 
 All thou canst say shall be but wasted breath. 
 
 Ne. Thcu art resolved ? 
 
420 PHILOCTETES. 
 
 Phil. More than my tongue can say. 
 
 Ne. I would thou couldst have hearkened to my words : 
 But, if all to no purpose they are spoken, 
 Why, I have done. 
 
 Phil. Thou canst but speak in vain ; 1280 
 
 Thou wilt not win my thoughts to friendliness, 
 That didst by treachery obtain thine end, 
 And of my life hast robbed me — and com'st here 
 To advise me, thou — base son of noble sire. 
 Perdition light — on the Atreidae first, 
 Then on the son of Lartius — and on thee ! 
 
 Ne. Hold off thy curse ! Take from my hands the 
 bow. 
 
 Phil. What sayest thou ? Again am I deceived ? 
 
 Ne. No, by the majesty of Zeus supreme 
 
 I2t 
 
 Phil. Ο welcome words, if what thou sayest be true ! ■ 
 
 Ne. Words that the deed shall follow, plain to see : 
 Reach hither thy right hand, and take thy bow. 
 
 \Odysseus etiters. 
 
 Od. In the sight of the gods, I charge thee, give it not 
 In the Atreidae's name, and of the host ! 
 
 Phil. My son, whose voice — Odysseus did I hear? 
 
 Od. None other : and he is near thee, in thy sight. 
 And he will bring thee hence by force to Troy ; 
 Whether Achilles' son consent or no. 
 
 Phil. But not unpunished, if this shaft flies straight. 
 
 Ne. Ah, by the gods, I pray, loose not thy shaft. 1300 
 
PHILOCTETES. 42] 
 
 Phil. Nay, by the gods, fair son, loose thou my hand. 
 
 Ne. I will not. 
 
 Phil. Why of mine enemy, whom I hate, 
 
 Didst rob me, not to slay him with my bow ? 
 
 Ne. For me and thee this is dishonourable. 
 
 Phil. But yet be sure of this, your chiefs of the host, 
 Your Grecian heralds, pursuivants of lies, 
 Are cowards in battle, but in words are brave. 
 
 Ne. Good now : thou hast thy bow, and hast no cause 
 Of anger against me, or of complaint. 
 
 Phil. No cause, my son ; but thou hast shown thy 
 nature, 1310 
 
 What strain thou'rt of — no child of Sisyphus, 
 But of Achilles, who, whilst yet he lived, 
 Had fairest fame, and now among the dead. 
 
 Ne. Sweet to my ears thy praise, both of my sire 
 And of myself : but hear now, what I fain 
 Would win from thee. The lot indeed that heaven 
 Awards, men cannot choose but bear : but who 
 On self-inflicted misery are bent, 
 As thou, such men deserve not sympathy, 
 Or any man's compassion. And thou art 1320 
 
 Grown fierce, and counsel dost reject, and if 
 One speaks to thee in love, advising thee, 
 Thou hatest him, as though he were thy foe, 
 And wished thee ill. Yet I will speak to thee 
 The truth, so help me Zeus : and what I speak, 
 
422 PHILOCTETES. 
 
 Doubt not, but know, and write it in thy heart. 
 
 For this thy grievous sickness is from heaven, 
 
 Because the guardian snake thou didst approach, 
 
 That keeps with unseen watch the roofless shrine 
 
 Of Chryse : and respite from this sore disease 
 
 Know that thou canst not win — howso yon sun 1330 
 
 May rise in the east, and in the west decline — 
 
 Till to the plains of Troy of thine own will 
 
 Thou comest, and, finding there Asclepius' sons 
 
 Who are with us, art of this sickness eased 
 
 By them, and, with this bow, and me, to help, 
 
 Hast sacked, in sight of all, the Trojan towers. 
 
 Now hearken, how I know that this is so. 
 
 There is with us a prisoner out of Troy, 
 
 One Helenus, a prophet without peer, 
 
 Who plainly says these things must come to pass : 
 
 And furthermore that in this present summer 1340 
 
 Must Troy be taken utterly ; or else, 
 
 If he prove false in this, his life's the forfeit/' 
 
 Now therefore, knowing this, of thine own will 
 
 Yield : for a goodly prize is this to win, 
 
 Being chosen, one from all the Grecian host, 
 
 Their bravest, so first into healing hands 
 
 To come, and earn withal a matchless fame, 
 
 That thou didst take this lamentable Troy. 
 
 Phil. Ο hated life, why in this light of day 
 Holdest thou me back from the doors of death ? 
 
PHILOCTETES. 423 
 
 Ah me, what shall I do? how disobey 1350 
 
 The loving words of counsel that he spake ? 
 
 Shall I then yield ? How after this shall I 
 
 Endure man's sight ? or who will speak to me ? 
 
 Ο eyes that did behold all these my wrongs, 
 
 How will ye suffer it if I consort 
 
 With Atreus' sons who flung me forth to die ? 
 
 How with the son of Lartius the all-guilty ? 
 
 For it is not grief afflicts me for the past, 
 
 But what I must endure from them hereafter 
 
 I think that I foresee. The heart that once 1360 
 
 Breeds evil, teaches evil to the end. 
 
 Yea and at thee I marvel now for this. 
 
 Thou shouldst have never gone thyself to Troy, 
 
 And me thou shouldst have hindered : — whom they 
 
 scorned, 
 And robbed thee of thy birthright — and adjudged, 
 Thy father's arms awarding, hapless Ajax 
 A worse man than Odysseus : yet wilt thou 
 Oo there to fight for them, and make me go ? 
 Not so, my son : as thou didst swear to me, 
 So bring me home : and thou, at Scyros tarrying, 
 Leave them to perish as they have deserved. 
 So shalt thou win a twofold thanks from me, 1370 
 
 And from my sire ; and not, helping bad men, 
 Be deemed thyself of nature like to theirs. 
 
 Ne. There's reason in thy speech : yet would I fain 
 
424 PHILOCTETES. 
 
 That, trusting to the gods and to my words, 
 
 Thou, with this man to friend, wouldst sail from hence. 
 
 Phil. What ! to the plains of Troy — and to my foe, 
 The son of Atreus — with this helpless foot ? 
 
 Ne. Rather to those who of the pain will ease 
 Thee, and thy festering foot, and heal thy sickness. 
 
 Phil. Ο evil counsellor, what wilt thou say ? 1380 
 
 Ne. That which, made good, is best for thee and 
 me. 
 
 Phil. Hast thou no shame the gods should hear thee 
 say it ? 
 
 Ne. Why of a good work should I be ashamed ? 
 
 Phil. What good ? to the Atreidae, or to me ? 
 
 Ne. To thee : I am thy friend, and speak in friend- 
 ship. 
 
 Phil. How, who wouldst hand me over to my foes ? 
 
 Ne. Friend, learn not in misfortune to be bold. 
 
 Phil. Thou wilt slay me : I know thee by thy 
 words. 
 
 Ne. I slay thee not : I say thou dost not know me. 
 
 Phil. Do I not know, the Atreidae cast me out ? 1390 
 
 Ne. See if they will not now deliver thee. 
 
 Phil. Not with my leave, if I must first see Troy. 
 
 Ne. What then remains to do, if by my words 
 I can persuade thee nothing that I say ? 
 Easiest it were for me to cease, and leave thee 
 To live, with no deliverer, as thou art. 
 
PHILOCTETES. 425 
 
 Phil. Let me endure the lot appointed me. 
 But what, laying thy hand on mine, thou once 
 Didst swear, to bring me home, this do for me, 
 My son, and tarry not, spend no more thought 1400 
 
 On Troy. For long enough have I made moan. 
 
 Ne. Be it as thou wilt : let us be going. 
 
 Phil. Ο the noble speech ! 
 
 Ne. Firmly plant thy feet with mine now. 
 
 Phil. To the utmost of my strength. 
 
 Ne. But the blame then of the Greeks how shall I 
 shun? 
 
 Phil. Think not of that. 
 
 Ne. How if they lay waste my land for this ? 
 
 Phil. I will be there 
 
 Ne. Why, what service wilt thou render ? 
 
 Phil. With the shafts of Heracles 
 
 Ne. How? 
 
 Phil. I'll keep them well at distance. 
 
 Ne. Kiss the earth, and come, set forth. 
 
 [Heracles appears. 
 
 Her. Nay, son of Poeas, go not yet : 
 Abide, till thou hast heard my words. 1410 
 
 Know that the voice of Heracles 
 Sounds in thine ears, thine eyes behold 
 His face : for hither for thy sake, 
 Leaving my place in heaven, I come, 
 To show what Zeus intends, and from 
 
426 PHILOCTETES. 
 
 The way thou'rt going to turn thee back : 
 
 Then hear and heed my speech. 
 
 And first of my own fortunes I will speak, 
 
 What toils I having suffered and gone through 
 
 Won deathless glory, even as thou seest. 
 
 Yea, and know well, this debt is thine to pay, 
 
 Through suffering to make glorious thy life. 
 
 But to the city of Troy go with this man : 
 
 So first from thy sore sickness shalt thou cease, 
 
 And, being chosen first of all the host, 
 
 Paris, whose fault was cause of all that woe, 
 
 Thou with my arrows shalt bereave of life, 
 
 And shalt sack Troy, and carry to thy home 
 
 Spoils, having won first prize of all the Greeks, 
 
 To Poeas thy sire, and thine Oetaean heights. 
 
 But from the Trojan host what spoils thou takest, 
 
 Bring to my pyre, memorials of my bow. 
 
 And thou, son of Achilles, heed my words : 
 
 For neither thou without this man may'st take 
 
 The plain of Troy, nor he apart from thee : 
 
 But, like two lions in one pasture mated, 
 
 Have thou good care of him, and he of thee. 
 
 And I will send Asclepius to Troy 
 
 To heal thy sickness : for a second time 
 
 My shafts must take it. But remember this — 
 
 When ye lay waste the land, then to revere 
 
 The gods : all things my father Zeus to this 
 
PHILOCTETES. 427 
 
 Counts second. Piety dies not with men ; 
 But, whether they live or die, yet it endures. 
 
 Phil. Ο voice, how welcome to my ears, 
 And face so long unseen — 
 I shall obey thy words. 
 
 Ne. And to this sentence I agree. 
 
 Her. Then make no long delay to do it : 
 Occasion, as ye see, 
 Is urgent, and fair winds at stern. 1450 
 
 Phil. Once, ere I go, I'll greet this land. 
 Cave, that so long hast watched with me, 
 And nymphs of meadow and stream, farewell : 
 Farewell, the great male voice 
 Of the headland midst the waves — 
 Waves, in my cavern's farthest nook, 
 That, smitten by the south wind's breath, 
 Oft drenched me o'er from foot to head, 
 And often did the mount of Hermes, 
 When storms went over me, 
 
 Reverberate my groans. 1460 
 
 But now, Ο springs, and fount Lyceian, 
 I leave you, leave you now — 
 Who never hoped for this. 
 Farewell, Ο sea-girt plain of Lemnos, 
 And waft me hence unblamably 
 With favourable course, 
 Whither the sovereign Fate conducts, 
 
428 PH1L0CTETES. 
 
 And counsel of my friends, 
 And heaven's all-potent will, 
 That has ordained it so. 
 
 Chor. Let us depart now all together : 
 Our prayer to the sea-nymphs having prayed, 1470 
 To come and speed us hence. 
 
NOTES 
 
BOtZS 
 
 P. 4, 1. 44. ' Conference also of counsels prospers for men of 
 experience more than others.' The value of experience is some- 
 times shown in the prosperous result of united counsels, when the 
 experienced man (instead of relying on his own superior wisdom) 
 confers with others. [It will be seen that, in this much-controverted 
 passage, I agree with Professor Kennedy about ξνμφοράς, but not 
 about ζώσας. Counsels which live, or abide (Professor Kennedy's 
 own word), are surely contrasted with counsels which perish and are 
 abortive.] 
 
 P. 8, 1. 125. Macbeth, i. 3, 112, 'Or did line the rebel with hidden 
 help and vantage. ' 
 
 P. 12, 1. 221. 'For (had I not been a stranger) I should have 
 tracked it not far — not failing to find. . . .' 
 
 P. 12, 1. 227. If he is afraid, let him not fear, but speak. 'Let 
 him remove the charge (that hangs now over the city), denouncing 
 himself if need be.' 'Himself against himself let him speak out 
 (μη σαοπάτω). 
 
 P. 16, 1. 329. I follow Hermann, understanding a verb, ' I never 
 will (speak),' and reading ειπών. 
 
 P. 19, 1. 420. Oedipus will flee from the house of Lai'us, that 
 harbourless harbour (more storm-vext than any sea), to which fair 
 winds, as he thought, had blown him — anywhere out of that — yes, 
 even to the mountain solitudes of Kithaeron, there to bewail his 
 misery : they shall be his haven now : he will escape, from Thebes, 
 to them. 
 
 P. 27, 1. 624. I see nothing better here than to read the line as a 
 question, ' When you have shown what sort of thing (how unreason- 
 able) jealousy is, then will you kill me?' i.e. Do you suppose that 
 the Thebans will let you put me to death ? This suits the answer 
 of Oedipus, who understands the speech as a defiance. 
 
432 NOTES. 
 
 P. 64, 1. 1526. I read oCris, understanding %v from the preceding line. 
 
 P. 70, 1. 76. Timon of Athens, iii. 5 : — 
 
 ' He is a man, setting his fate aside, 
 Of comely virtues.' 
 
 P. 74, 1. 185. 'Bold that you are, be bold (make up your mind) 
 to yield.' 
 
 P. 76, 1. 229. ' The fates punish no man, concerning wrongs that 
 he is the first to suffer, for requiting them.' If I deceive you, who 
 deceived me, the gods will pardon my deception. 
 
 P. 79, 1. 309. I follow Professor Kennedy. ' May he bring a 
 blessing to his city and to me. I need not say, to himself: he needs 
 must do good to himself in doing good to others.' Otherwise 'To 
 me : for do not all good men (as well as others : all men, none the 
 less that they are virtuous) desire their own good? ' 
 
 P. 80, 1. 328-330. The lines are displaced in the MSS. % τήσδε 
 κάμοΰ is full of meaning after τροφαί, but nonsense after όμου. 
 When Oedipus asks Ismene whom she is pitying, with a suggestion 
 that she does herself injustice in seeming for a moment to separate 
 herself from her father and sister, at once, with quick instinctive 
 appreciation of his meaning, she identifies her lot with theirs. 
 
 P. 83, 1. 403. The burial of Oedipus may be said to ' chance 
 amiss ' in one sense, if he is denied due rites of burial ; in another, 
 if he is buried elsewhere than in Boeotia. 
 
 P. 88, 1. 522. IjveyKov άκων μέν (MSS.) is unmetrical. εκών is 
 untrue and unsuitable to the context (compare 964). Hermann 
 suggests άνων ( = άνύων). Perhaps we should read tfveyK' οΰν κακδτατ', 
 ω ξένοι, -qveyK άέκων μεν (or jjveyKa μέρ άκων). 
 
 P. 89, 1. 54°• ' A reward the like of which never to obtain from 
 the city did I serve her.' έξελέσθαι an ironical word : compare 
 έξαίρετον δώρημα. 
 
 P. 89, 1. 547. άλούϊ (for &X\ovs of MSS.) is a certain correction. 
 Compare 997. 
 
 P. 90, 1. 570. I read παρηκέ μ.' ώστε βραχέα σοι δεΐσθαι λ^γει^. 
 
 Ρ. 9ΐ, 1. 5^8. I read του : ' or whose opposition do you speak of? ' 
 — ' Not small shall be the peril '—of course for Theseus. What 
 then could he mean by asking, ' Who will make my difficulty ? 
 Your sons ? or shall I make it for myself? ' 
 
 P. 94, 1. 661. Literally, ' though terrible things were emboldened 
 to the utterance : ' an expression precisely parallel to πολλαΐ άπειλαΐ 
 κατηπείλησαν just before. 
 
NOTES. 43; 
 
 P. 96, 1. 735. τηλικόσδε. 
 
 P. 102, 1. 867. ' Such poor eyesight — barely eyesight — as I had 
 when my former eyes were lost.' Disparaging, not his daughters, 
 but his own helpless condition : an argument for pity. 
 
 P. no, 1. 1069 πώλων probably corrupt for "" : it may have 
 displaced (as a gloss upon ψάλαρα) some word quite unlike it ; 
 possi >ly χαλώσ' (suggested by Hermann instead of κατά) : 'fast as 
 their bridles can hasten them (all that their bridles can), flinging 
 them 1 
 
 P. 112, i. 1132. I read, with Hermann, πώς <r' αν άθλιος ^^ώς. 
 Line 1134 shows that Theseus is the subject of θι -yeiv. 
 
 P. 116, 1. 1220. 'loreAecrros (which I connect with μοίρα) is passive: 
 'a doom whose payment (of the tribute of their lives) falls equally on 
 all. Μ \e?s of their lives to Pluto (τελβουσιν Άΐδα ψνχάν). 
 
 1 . ι ' Who wanders far to multiply vexations? What 
 
 plague is not there ? ' involved in the mere fact of being young, so 
 that there is no need to go further to seek for it. 
 
 P. 117, 1. 1248. ριπαϊ unquestionably (as in El. 106) of the star- 
 light : the only adequate meaning of ' vibrations of the night,' and 
 required by the antithesis. All influences of sunlight and of star- 
 light to Oedipus are fraught with sorrow. 
 
 P. 118, 1. 1281. 'The many words (whatever their tenor) even 
 from the silent wring response.' Compare with δνσχβράναντα, 
 κατοικτίσαντα (feeling imputed to the words), Oed. Col. 659, 661 : 
 and, for a similar ' hypallage,' 267. 
 
 P. 122, 1. 13S0. 'From thine altars and thy thrones' [plural 
 expressing contempt, expressed in Greek by σον and σού$] ' my 
 curses oust thee ' — forestall your sitting (suppliant at the altar) and 
 preoccupy your throne. 
 
 P. 122, 1. 1390. Ί invoke for thy heritage (the only abode you 
 shall inherit from me) the gloom of Tartarus, to give thee a home 
 far off from Thebes.' 
 
 P. 125, 1. 1454. I read \vith Hermann, e7rei μϊν erepa, τα δ' eV 
 ήμαρ . . . (In the Antistrophe, 1469, δέδια δ'* ου yap άλι' αφορμή . . .) 
 This gives complete correspondence of metre : and L A have τάδε 
 πήματ\ — eVet μέν, like ore μέν, 'sometimes.' e7r' ημαρ, 'within a 
 day': compare Trach. n 28. 
 
 P. 128, 1. 1534. Let the secret belong to the ruler only, and not 
 be divulged to the people, who, even. in the best-governed state 
 (even, therefore, in Athens ; compare 1004), are capricious, and 
 
 2 Ε 
 
434 NOTES. 
 
 might be tempted, in some crisis of their history, to regard the 
 presence of my bones among them as a pollutio and cast them out. 
 
 P. 128, 1. 1536. This is the reason why it seems a light matter to 
 commit such outrages. Men are shortsighted, all but the wisest 
 (such as Theseus) : they ignore a punishment which is far off. 
 
 P. 129, 1. 1550. Compare Paradise Lost, iii. 21 : — 
 ' Thee I revisit safe, 
 Ana feel thy sovran vital lamp ; but thou 
 Revisit'st not these eyes, that roll in vain 
 To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn.' 
 
 And Lear, iv. 1, 25 : — 
 
 ' Might I but live to see thee in my touch, 
 I'd say I had eyes again.' 
 
 P. 135, 1. 1 7 13. There is no justification for the use of μη with 
 'έχρηζα. Read Ιώ μοι, or ώμοι. ' It was your wish ; but it was sad 
 for me to see you die, forlorn, an exile.' 
 
 P. 145, 1. 124. ' The Serpent : ' the ensign (or emblem) of Thebes. 
 
 P. 153, 1. 326. τά deiva κέρδη MSS. 'Your clever winnings,' on 
 which you plume yourselves. 
 
 P• I55s 1. 368. Dindorf's simple alteration παραιρών is probably 
 right. I take v\piiro\is άπολις together, like παντόπορος άπορος in 
 the Strophe, and connect τολμά? χάριν with the following sentence. 
 The Chorus, under cover of generalities, are denouncing Creon. It 
 may be thought that after 366 the antithesis of the usual readings 
 and pointing is wanted ; but the warning tone of the whole Anti- 
 strophe is even more impressive without it. ' Wonderful is Man: 
 he has put all things in subjection under his feet. And yet not all. 
 Still Right is supreme. The wrongdoer, though he be a monarch — 
 he is the outlaw. Let me not know a wicked person.' 
 
 P. 162, 1. 556. ' No, not if my words could be unspoken:' literally, 
 'with my words unspoken:' i.e. I do not choose life, whatever I 
 may have rashly said. 
 
 P. 164, 1. 594. ο τέτατο. The relative seems to me indispensable ; 
 although of course viv refers to ρίξαν, not φάος. The broken sentence 
 is expressive. ' For now the light of hope that shone so brightly 
 about the life of Antigone, last root of the fated house ' — [not ' that 
 light is out,' but] 'the axe is laid to that root ; no trace of life 
 remains.' I retain kovis, and understand 'The bloodstained dust of 
 the gods below levels the root of the house of Oedipus ' to mean 
 'The gods below have levelled bloodstained dust over the root. 
 
NOTES. 435 
 
 Lastly, ' the rash speech and frantic purpose ' (mind possessed by an 
 Erinys) of Antigone are said to have co-operated in the work of 
 destruction. 
 
 P. 164, 1. 607. Donaldson's θέοντβς is highly probable ; and either 
 TrayKparrjs (Don.) for παντογηρω$ (which, however, is a fine \vord, and 
 could hardly have come from a blunder) ; or, instead of ακάματοι, 
 άκοποι (Dind. ), which as a rarer word might have been replaced by 
 an explanation. 
 
 P. 164, 1. 613, 614. It is very doubtful whether the true reading 
 can be recovered here : ουδέν '4ρπβι and έκτος aras being possibly 
 stopgaps borrowed from lines 625, 618. But this is not very likely, 
 and it is worth considering whether the lines may not stand with the 
 substitution of άτα for aras, and perhaps οϋποθ" 1 (or ούδάμ) for ουδέν. 
 •'Nowise doth universal woe avoid the life of man.' βώτφ dative, 
 as after εκποδών ; or possibly βώτου. 
 
 P. 166, 1. 664-667. καΐ τούτον . . . παραστάτην. These lines 
 were transposed by Hermann (whom other editors have followed), 
 and placed after 671 (τάναντία). Two obvious difficulties are created 
 by the change : (1) The reference of τούτον τον άνδρα (664) to the 
 obedient subject, with τούτον just before {ουκ έστ επαίνου τούτον έξ 
 έμοΰ τυχύν) meaning the disobedient one. (2) A false antithesis, 
 between good rider and bad subject. ' He who governs his household 
 will be a righteous ruler of the state. But a subject who sets himself 
 above the laws and above his rulers shall have no praise of mine.' 
 Whereas the other way the connection is natural and true. ' The 
 equalities which make a man a righteous ruler alike of his household 
 and the state would also make him a loyal subject. Disloyal subjects 
 I cannot praise :' i.e. ' I, Creon, the just ruler, should in your place 
 loyally obey, and therefore I cannot praise you if you are dis- 
 obedient. ' 
 
 P. 171, 1. 782. The language is that of war. έμπίπτειν is 'to 
 attack. ' χρήματα, I believe, is metaphorical : men become the 
 property of Love the Conqueror. Love ' wins the fight and divides 
 the spoil ' (literally, ' falls on the gear '). 
 
 P. 171, 1. 784. Compare Coriolanus, ill- 2, 116, 'the smiles of 
 knaves tent in my cheeks. ' 
 
 P. 182,1. 1062. ήδη, sci\. ipetv. 'Forthwith methinks I shall speak 
 as you require — so far as you are concerned : ' i.e. I shall speak the 
 truth, not seeking reward — at least from jw/. 
 
 P. 204, 1. 244. el yap 6 μεν θανών. ' If (whereas Agamemnon 
 
436 NOTES. 
 
 was slain and is no more) his murderers shall not pay their blood 
 for his.' That only the second member of the sentence is hypo- 
 thetical (compare δείνα αν εΐην είρ"γασμένοϊ, ει τότε μεν εμενον, νυν be 
 λίποιμί την tcl^lv) is marked by the negatives, ουδέν in the first, μη. 
 in the second, (γα re /cat ουδέν = ' pulvis et umbra*) 
 
 P. 209, 1. 363. 'My meat and drink.' Here, and in too many 
 other passages of the 'Electra' and of the 'Ajax,'too many to be noted, 
 (I may mention, however, as flagrant examples, El. 445, Aj. 1285), 
 I have been indebted to the not-to-be-surpassed translations in 
 Professor Jebb's editions of these plays. I translated these two 
 plays some time'ago, in the course of school-work, with no thought 
 of publication, and therefore plagiarized freely. In some cases I 
 have altered : but in far more I have shrunk from deliberately sub- 
 stituting worse for better. 
 
 P. 211, 1. 417-420. I should like to substitute for these lines the 
 following : — 
 
 * I hear them say, revisiting the light, 
 Her father's very presence as he lived 
 She saw; and that he took, and on the hearth 
 Planted, that sceptre which he wielded once.' 
 
 P. 215, 1. 445. 'By this act, meaning "his blood be upon his 
 own head," the murderess washes her hands of the guilt ' (Professor 
 Jebb): though, literally, I think it is ' He took the bloodstains' (the 
 print of the axe), the active being cpiite sufficiently justified by the 
 Homeric άναμάσσειν : if άναμάσσειν, why not έκμάσσειν ? 
 
 P. 212, 1. 452. άλίπαρη, with a certain pathetic irony, 'uneloquent, ' 
 ' unpetitionary. ' ' How should my father regard the supplication 
 of this poor, coarse, faded hair of mine; so unlike that of Chrvso- 
 themis, which no grief has aged? ' Compare 137S, λιπαρεΐ χερί. 
 
 P. 214, 1. 496. 'Never shall we see (and lament to see) this 
 portent come near to the murderer and his paramour undeprecated 
 (by them).' Certainly it will come nearer and nearer to them, and 
 they will not lack cause to rue its coming. 
 
 P. 215, 1. 534. I cannot agree with Professor Jebb in thinking 
 that τίνων is the interrogative. The expression is to be compared 
 with αγγελλε δ' 8ρκφ προστεθείς; literally, 'as a kindness to whom — 
 paying it? (for whose sake — as a debt?): ' the construction is com- 
 plete without τίνων, but τίνων is added to emphasize Clytaemnestra's 
 meaning, which is, that no one had a right to claim such kindness. 
 
 P. 216, 1. 551. I connect -γνώμην δικαίαν σχοΰσα with tovs πε'λα? 
 
NOTES. 457 
 
 \j/ey€. * Are you so clear of injustice that you can pass judgment 
 upon me? ' 
 
 P. 216, 1. 564. 'The rushing winds.' [πολύς ρεΐ ό ποταμός, πνει ό 
 άνεμος.] So strong they would have been ; but Artemis checked them, 
 and becalmed the Greeks. Exactly like ' celeres obruit otio ventos. ' 
 
 P. 236, 1. 1087. ' Having armed and made ready the unlovely 
 deed.' όπλιζε tv is used in Homer of making ready anything, 
 especially meat and drink : and Eurip. Ion 1124, θυσίαν θεοΐς. The 
 point of the expression is that Electra has resolved to do a deed 
 which, till it is done, looks to all eyes, as to those of Chrysothemis, 
 unlovely and a crime ; but, having done it, she knows that the 
 universal voice will approve alike her wisdom and her piety. 
 Professor Jebb (who thinks that σοφά τ άριστα τε παις κεκλησθαι is 
 what Chrysothemis desires, and that Electra knows that the two 
 things are incompatible) seems to me to have confused ' wisdom ' 
 with ' caution.' Chrysothemis is cautious, but Electra is, and one 
 day will be acknowledged to be, wise. (Compare τους άνωθεν 
 φρονιμωτάτους οιωνούς at the beginning of the ode. ) 
 
 P. 249, 1. 141 3. Read σοι for σε. To alter φθίνει into φθίνειν is 
 to commit Sophocles (at this moment most inopportunely) to the 
 Aeschylean view of the vengeance as a new crime in the series of 
 crimes. Orestes is the καθαρτης of the house of Pelops (70). The 
 day is breaking at last (17-19). The house is rid of the curse 
 (1508-1510). 
 
 P. 251, 1. 1449. I do not like the suggestion of an alternative 
 construction of της φιλτάτης in agreement with συμφοράς. Probably 
 της φιλτάτης is meant to be, to Aegisthus, a surprise for του φιλτάτου. 
 What Electra means by speaking of the " misfortune " of Clytaem- 
 nestra rather than of Orestes, it is for him to make out as he can. 
 
 P. 251. 1. 1451. Probably φίλης προξένου κατήνυσαν is to be 
 explained in the first instance as an aposiopesis — understanding 
 φόνον. κατανύσαι αίμα would hardly justify κατανύσαι τινά (meaning 
 'to murder') ; and the two meanings of the words must both lie in 
 προξένου (not one in προξένου, the other in an implied πρόξενον) κατή- 
 νυσαν. Moreover, κανανύσαι προξένου, meaning 'to arrive' (compare 
 άνύσειν Άΐδαν, Aj. 607, where 'to accomplish' — 'to reach') is itself 
 an elliptical expression (scil. οίκον). The meaning, therefore, depends 
 upon the word supplied: Aegisthus will supply οίκον, the audience 
 
 φόνον. ' They accomplished j 1 ° the h ° use l of a loving hostess.' 
 ( the murder ) 
 
43S NOTES. 
 
 P. 261, 1. 100. The Chorus know that Heracles has been in Asia, 
 and that he is either in Euboea or on his way thither. Perhaps he 
 is crossing the Aegaean ; pei-haps he is preparing to come, as 
 Xerxes came, by land, and is now passing the Hellespont. Sophocles 
 seems to me to have used and adapted a Homeric phrase. Com- 
 pare κεκλιμένος πόντφ, II. xv. 740 ; λίμνη κεκλιμένος, v. 709 ; Άλφέου 
 πάρω κλιθείς, Pind. Olymp. i. 92 (of the tomb of Pelops at 
 Olympia), where the participle means ' living ' (or ' encamped ' or 
 'buried') On a slope towards' (looking down upon) the sea, or 
 lake, or river. So here — regarding the sea (in Greek fashion ; com- 
 pare μετέωρος) as an eminence sloping to the shore — 'midway 
 between the continents,' ' looking down upon the coast of either.' 
 
 P. 268, 1. 281. Compare Browning, ' Caliban,' ' Letting the rank 
 tongue blossom into speech. ' 
 
 P. 279, 1. 554. I follow Hermann's interpretation (in his first 
 edition), which accounts for τήδε, and gives an excellent antithesis 
 between δρ^αίνειν and λυτήριον λύττημα : ' angry it is not well for 
 me to be, but hear how (not for vengeance, but to rid myself of her) I 
 mean to vex this maiden : ' ' angry I am not, but vex her soul I shall.' 
 
 P. 283, 1. 653. The best emendation seems οι στρωθείς. One 
 MS., Ven. (thirteenth century), has οίστρωθείς. But οίστρηθείς maybe 
 right : ' a frenzy-fit of Ares proves (to Deianeira) release from weary 
 days,' this war with Eurytus being, the Chorus hope, the last of 
 the toils and dangers of Heracles. 
 
 P. 283, 1. 662. θηρος is corrupt, as the metre shows, and ταγχρίστω 
 can hardly stand alone as a substantive. Moreover, επί -τροφάσει 
 θηρος gives the wrong meaning. The Chorus do not distrust the 
 Centaur. They mean that the πρόφασις assigned by Deianeira will 
 induce Heracles, so they hope, to put on the robe, and so to become 
 subject to the spell which is to draw him home, σν^'κραθείς κ.τ.λ. 
 — 'having drunk through every vein' the magic chrism 'upon a 
 pretext' {i.e. having been induced by specious reasons to put on 
 the robe). If so, then the word wanted is a substantive— in mean- 
 ing and metre = πέπλω. Possibly φάρει {a as inf. 916). ' Clasped by ' 
 (welded, made one with) the robe which Persuasion has anointed ; 
 'the robe anointed all over' (or 'supremely anointed') 'by Per- 
 suasion : ' compare such expressions as διδακταί ανθρώπων άρεταί. 
 
 Notice that both συ-γκραθείς and επί προφάσει are unconsciously 
 prophetic, and to the spectators ominous, of the horror so near at 
 hand, fitly followed on the instant by the entrance of Deianeira, dis- 
 
NOTES. 439 
 
 tracted with fear. (Compare the ominous word προσαρμόσαι, supra, 
 494). ' Penetrated ' indeed by the Centaur's blood, ' welded and 
 made one ' with the robe which she had smeared, was Heracles to 
 be, in another sense than she had dreamed of. A ' specious ' robe 
 indeed it was to prove ; and, whilst she thought that by her harm- 
 less πρόφαση she was winning back to herself her husband's love, 
 she little thought, but the spectators knew, how the πρόφαση of 
 Nessus had deceived her, to work his death. 
 
 P. 285, 1. 724. Whatever reason to fear the worst, fortune may 
 interfere, and all will yet be well. ' We ought not to reckon our 
 hopes and fears ' (e\7Tis = forecast) ' as of more account (of more avail) 
 than fortune.' For the sense of πάρο$, compare Oed. Col. 418, 
 πάρος τοΰμοΰ πόθου προύθεντο την τυραννίδα : and Heracl. 200, η 
 yap αισχύνη πάρος [Reiske for βάρος] του ζην παρ 1 έσθλοΐς άνδράσιν 
 νομίζεται. 
 
 Ρ. 290, 1. 837. The torture of the treachery, mixed with the 
 pangs of the poison. I read with Hermann ύποφόνια δολόμυθα κέντρ' 
 [and in Strophe (830) έ'τί 7ror' ετ έπίπονόν γ' εχοι] : με\α^χαίτα 
 without article being put for a substantive, ' more epicorum : ' and 
 ύποφόνια (attested by Harpocration)— ' caedem expiantia.' 
 
 P. 290, 1. 843. 'Concerning which' {i.e. the destruction of 
 Heracles) ' partly indeed she was heedless ' (for προσέβαλε = προσεσχε, 
 scil. νουν, compare 580) — and so far she cannot be acquitted of 
 blame ; ' but partly it came ... of a policy not her own ' (μολόντα 
 governed by στένει) ' and now she repents it with bitter tears. ' 
 ολεθρίαίσι σι^αλλαγαί?, dative of manner ; ' it came to pass (she 
 did the deed) from a fatal desire to win back her husband's love ' 
 {ταυτ έποίησεν όλεθρίως προς τον πόσιν συναΧλαττομενη) : a sense of 
 συναλλα-γη justified by Aj. 732, where it means 'mediation.' 
 
 P. 293, 1. 911. I read της άπαιδος (for tcls άπαιδας). The plural 
 oiVtas seems to me indefensible. I understand tTjs άπαιδος ουσίας as 
 genitive after εκλαιεν : [for gen. after words expressing emotion, com- 
 pare Oed. R. 234, Phil. 715, Hec. 1256, Hippol. 1400: and for 
 similar combination of constructions (noun and verb) Oed. Col. 1357, 
 and inf. 936, οΰτ' όδυρμάτων . . . οϋτ' άμφιπίπτων :] ' lamented . . . 
 crying out upon her own hard fate, and for her childless state 
 henceforth.' απαις ουσία, 'called mother of many children, really 
 mother of none ; ' all her children would disown her, as Hyllus had 
 already. The alteration of ttjs απαιδος into τά$ απαιδας might 
 easily have been made by some one who did not see that the 
 
440 NOTES. 
 
 genitive was to be coupled with ανακαλούμενη, and thought that 
 ανακαλούμενη ought to have another object. 
 
 P. 297, 1. 1018. None of the proposed emendations convince me : 
 the words may be translated as they stand, and the metre does not 
 invite corruption. To say that the sight of Hyllus is undimmed 
 (εμτλεον) is not an unnatural way of saying that he is young, τ) — 
 μάλλον ή : compare Herod, ix. 26. The construction seems to be 
 condensed from 'έμττλεον σώ'ζειν { — ώστε σώζειν) τον πατέρα μάλλον 
 ή ώστε αυτόν δι' έμοΰ σώ'ζεσθαί ; so that ύ) δι' εμού is interposed 
 between σώζειν and έμττλεον on which it depends. 
 
 P. 298, 1. 1046. Bothe's conjecture κον λόγω κακά has been 
 generally adopted : but Cicero's translation, ' Ο mult a dictu gravia, 
 perpessu aspera,' seems to show that he at any rate read what our 
 MSS. have, καΐ λόγω κακά : and this makes good sense — λόγω in a 
 sort of opposition to χερσί and νώτοισι in the next line. 
 
 P. 301, 1. 1 127. Hyllus had meant, 'It ill becomes me, as her 
 son, to keep silence ; not to plead my mother's cause. ' ' It ill 
 becomes you as my son,' says Heracles, 'to keep silence of her 
 fault.' '(What she has done now, I know not ; but) such silence 
 indeed on your part beseems not her former fault. ' Hyllus replies, 
 'Nor what she has done this day (does silence beseem) — thou 
 shalt confess.' 
 
 P. 313, 1. 68. —μίμνε, μη συμφοράν δεχόμενο?, τον άνδρα. Com- 
 pare Prom. v. 339» πάντων μετάσχων καΐ τετολμηκώς έμοί, where 
 και τετολμηκώς —τολμηρών. 
 
 Ρ. 316, 1. 128. Compare Merchant of Venice, i. 1, 123 : — 
 ' How much I have disabled mine estate 
 By something showing a more swelling port 
 Than my faint means would grant continuance. ' 
 
 P. 3 1 8, 1. 176. 'Perchance in fruitless recompense for some 
 victory — either because she was disappointed of battle-spoils, or 
 because of a hunting of the stag when she was unrewarded.' The 
 victory was άδωρος (to Artemis), and therefore its recompense is 
 άκάρπωτος (to Ajax). 
 
 P. 319, 1. 207. For 'stream' read 'storm.' 
 
 P. 327, 1. 430. ' Am I not fitly called Aias, having such cause to 
 cry Ai ai ? ' 
 
 P. 329, 1. 475. To such monotony (of incurring and avoiding by 
 turns the danger of death) a man's existence is reduced when honour 
 is lost, and there is nothing left to live for but a little more life. 
 
NOTES. 441 
 
 Ρ• 333» 1• 5^2. θρηνεΐν επωδάς : 'to use the spell of lamentation' 
 ('to lament for a spell') : i.e. to lament when action is needed is 
 like using charms when the knife is needed, playing the enchanter 
 over what needs the surgeon. 
 
 P. 334, 1. 603. Ίδαία μίμνων Χειμώνα άποινα μηνών άνήριθμος αίέν 
 βννώμαι. 
 
 Ρ. 336, 1. 651. A sword-blade wants two things — to be sharp, and 
 to be flexible. By heating it, and then dipping it in water, it is 
 hardened, so that it will take an edge. But it cannot be used in 
 this state ; it is very hard, and therefore very brittle. Now it wants 
 to be reduced, to be made flexible. This is done by plunging it, 
 while still warm, into a bath of hot oil, so hot as to ignite. 
 Sophocles refers to this second dipping in the hot bath, and this 
 follows, without need of explanation, from the use of irepiaKeXecs two 
 lines before. For 7re/>w/ceXets is ' over-hardened ' (compare Anti"•, 
 474), and describes the state of the steel after the first process, when 
 it is ready to take the edge {στόμα), but when it is also so hard as 
 to be brittle — the temper that will break rather than bend. 
 
 No doubt the speech of Ajax is meant to deceive, the motive of 
 the deception being a proud reserve and avoidance of all appeal, 
 where appeal would be vain, to the sympathy of Tecmessa and the 
 sailors ; no doubt at the same time nothing is said that is not true 
 — true in its deeper and hidden meaning. The deliverance, the 
 purging away of his stains, the escape from the wrath of Athene, 
 even the respectful homage to be paid to the Atreidae, point clearly 
 enough, to us who have the clue, to his death. And when he 
 speaks of the wonders that time can work — how there is nothing it 
 cannot overthrow, not even the most stubborn will, and how the 
 edge of his own resolve has grown flexible (not dull), so that ' it 
 pities him ' to leave Tecmessa and his child, all this is true. The 
 Chorus think that he has abandoned his intention of killing himself, 
 but he says nothing of the kind. He only says that, whereas he 
 was hard, now he is softened, so that he feels pity. The sword- 
 blade is not less, but more, efficient because it bends. The edge of 
 Ajax' purpose is not less keen because in his heart he pities those 
 whom that purpose requires him to forsake. 
 
 P, 336, 1. 666. Compare Lear, iv. 6, 34 : — 
 
 ' Ο you mighty gods ! ■ 
 This world I do renounce, and in your sights 
 Shake patiently my great affliction off: 
 
442 N07'£S. 
 
 If I could bear it longer, and not fall 
 To quarrel with your great opposeless wills, 
 My snuff and loathed part of nature should 
 Burn itself out.' 
 
 P• 359» 1• I2 ^5- See note on El. 209. 
 
 P. 385, 1. 417. The enemies of Odysseus said (according to the 
 post-Homeric story) that he was the son of Sisyphus, transferred 
 with his mother, while still unborn, by Sisyphus to Laertes. 
 
 P. 392, 1. 625. Sisyphus, ' before he died, desired his wife not 
 to bury him. She having complied with his request, he complained 
 of her neglect, and asked Pluto, or Persephone, to allow him to 
 return to the upper world to punish his wife. When this request 
 was granted, he refused to return to the lower world, until Hermes 
 carried him off by force' (Diet. Biog.). 
 
 P• 395, 1. 676. Ixion. 
 
 P. 402, 1. 852. I read ων αύοωμαι, ει ταύταν τούτων. . . . ' But 
 — you know whom I mean — if as by them advised you counsel 
 thus ' . . . (' if of them you have this for your plan '). 
 
 P. 402, 1. 858. I read άλέης { = αλέας): like αιθρίας, νυκτός, 
 θέρους, etc. 
 
 P. 402, 1. 864. The safer course is the wiser one : to carry off the 
 bow and arrows and leave Philoctetes behind. 
 
 P. 422, 1. 1329. έντυχεΐν MSS. Read αν τυχών (not τυχεΐν). 
 
 P. 422, 1. 1330. αυτός MSS. Read αυτός. 
 
 ώς αν, 'however:' compare Ajax, 1117, 1369, Oed. Col. 1561, 
 Trach. 715 : ' however day may succeed to day,' 'however the sun 
 may rise and set (but still the same sun pursuing the same course), 
 no day will bring relief.' 
 
 P. 426, 1. 1443. We must read, with Hermann and other editors, 
 ού yap ευσέβεια (or ηϋσέβεια). "Follows men in death and does 
 not die when they die" is out of the question. The MSS. are 
 very faulty in this part of the play : e.g. in 1441 both L and A have 
 όταν πορθείτε; in 1429, έκλαβών; here, ή yap. 
 
 
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