He shouts for one to open wide the gateAnd lead him forth, and to all Thebes displayHis father's murderer, his mother's.... Nay,Such words I will not speak. And his intentIs set, to cast himself in banishmentOut to the wild, not walk 'mid human breedBearing the curse he bears. Yet sore his needOf strength and of some guiding hand. For sureHe hath more burden now than man may endure.But see, the gates fall back, and that appearsWhich he who loathes shall pity—yea, with tears.[Oedipusis led in, blinded and bleeding. The Old Men bow down and hide their faces; some of them weep.Chorus.Oh, terrible! Oh, sight of allThis life hath crossed, most terrible!Thou man more wronged than tongue can tell,What madness took thee? Do there crawlLive Things of Evil from the deepTo leap on man? Oh, what a leapWas His that flung thee to thy fall!Leader.O fallen, fallen in ghastly case,I dare not raise mine eyes to thee;Fain would I look and ask and see,But shudder sickened from thy face.Oedipus.Oh, pain; pain and woe!Whither? Whither?They lead me and I go;And my voice drifts on the airFar away.Where, Thing of Evil, whereEndeth thy leaping hither?Leader.In fearful ends, which none may hear nor say.Oedipus.Cloud of the dark, mine own[Strophe.For ever, horrible,Stealing, stealing, silent, unconquerable,Cloud that no wind, no summer can dispel!Again, again I groan,As through my heart together crawl the strongStabs of this pain and memories of old wrong.Leader.Yea, twofold hosts of torment hast thou there,The stain to think on and the pain to bear.Oedipus.O Friend, thou mine own[Antistrophe.Still faithful, ministerSteadfast abiding alone of them that were,Dost bear with me and give the blind man care?Ah me! Not all unknownNor hid thou art. Deep in this dark a callComes and I know thy voice in spite of all.Leader.O fearful sufferer, and could'st thou killThy living orbs? What God made blind thy will?Oedipus.'Tis Apollo; all is Apollo,[Strophe.O ye that love me, 'tis he long time hath plannedThese things upon me evilly, evilly,Dark things and full of blood.I knew not; I did but followHis way; but mine the handAnd mine the anguish. What were mine eyes to meWhen naught to be seen was good?Leader.'Tis even so; and Truth doth speak in thee.Oedipus.To see, to endure, to hear words kindly spoken,Should I have joy in such?Out, if ye love your breath,Cast me swift unto solitude, unbrokenBy word or touch.Am I not charged with death,Most charged and filled to the brimWith curses? And what man saithGod hath so hated him?Leader.Thy bitter will, thy hard calamity,Would I had never known nor looked on thee!Oedipus.My curse, my curse upon him,[Antistrophe.That man whom pity held in the wilderness,Who saved the feet alive from the blood-fetterAnd loosed the barb thereof!That babe—what grace was done him,Had he died shelterless,He had not laid on himself this grief to bear,And all who gave him love.Leader.I, too, O Friend, I had been happier.Oedipus.Found not the way to his father's blood, nor shakenThe world's scorn on his mother,The child and the groom withal;But now, of murderers born, of God forsaken,Mine own sons' brother;All this, and if aught can fallUpon man more perilousAnd elder in sin, lo, allIs the portion of Oedipus.Leader.How shall I hold this counsel of thy mindTrue? Thou wert better dead than living blind.Oedipus.That this deed is not well and wisely wroughtThou shalt not show me; therefore school me not.Think, with what eyes hereafter in the placeOf shadows could I see my father's face,Or my poor mother's? Both of whom this handHath wronged too deep for man to understand.Or children—born as mine were born, to seeTheir shapes should bring me joy? Great God!To meThere is no joy in city nor in towerNor temple, from all whom, in this mine hour,I that was chief in Thebes alone, and ateThe King's bread, I have made me separateFor ever. Mine own lips have bid the landCast from it one so evil, one whose handTo sin was dedicate, whom God hath shownBirth-branded ... and my blood the dead King's own!All this myself have proved. And can I thenLook with straight eyes into the eyes of men?I trow not. Nay, if any stop there wereTo dam this fount that welleth in mine earFor hearing, I had never blenched nor stayedTill this vile shell were all one dungeon made,Dark, without sound. 'Tis thus the mind would fainFind peace, self-prisoned from a world of pain.O wild Kithairon, why was it thy willTo save me? Why not take me quick and kill,Kill, before ever I could make men knowThe thing I am, the thing from which I grow?Thou dead King, Polybus, thou city wallOf Corinth, thou old castle I did callMy father's, what a life did ye begin,What splendour rotted by the worm within,When ye bred me! O Crossing of the Roads,O secret glen and dusk of crowding woods,O narrow footpath creeping to the brinkWhere meet the Three! I gave you blood to drink.Do ye remember? 'Twas my life-blood, hotFrom mine own father's heart. Have ye forgotWhat deed I did among you, and what newAnd direr deed I fled from you to do?O flesh, horror of flesh!...But what is shameTo do should not be spoken. In God's name,Take me somewhere far off and cover meFrom sight, or slay, or cast me to the seaWhere never eye may see me any more.What? Do ye fear to touch a man so soreStricken? Nay, tremble not. My miseryIs mine, and shall be borne by none but me.Leader.Lo, yonder comes for answer to thy prayerCreon, to do and to decree. The careOf all our land is his, now thou art weak.Oedipus.Alas, what word to Creon can I speak,How make him trust me more? He hath seen of lateSo vile a heart in me, so full of hate.EnterCreon.Creon.Not to make laughter, Oedipus, nor castAgainst thee any evil of the pastI seek thee, but ... Ah God! ye ministers,Have ye no hearts? Or if for man there stirsNo pity in you, fear at least to callStain on our Lord the Sun, who feedeth all;Nor show in nakedness a horror suchAs this, which never mother Earth may touch,Nor God's clean rain nor sunlight. Quick within!Guide him.—The ills that in a house have beenThey of the house alone should know or hear.Oedipus.In God's name, since thou hast undone the fearWithin me, coming thus, all nobleness,To one so vile, grant me one only grace.For thy sake more I crave it than mine own.Creon.Let me first hear what grace thou wouldst be shown.Oedipus.Cast me from Thebes ... now, quick ... where none may seeMy visage more, nor mingle words with me.Creon.That had I done, for sure, save that I stillTremble, and fain would ask Apollo's will.Oedipus.His will was clear enough, to stamp the uncleanThing out, the bloody hand, the heart of sin.Creon.'Twas thus he seemed to speak; but in this soreStrait we must needs learn surer than before.Oedipus.Thou needs must trouble God for one so low?Creon.Surely; thyself will trust his answer now.Oedipus.I charge thee more ... and, if thou fail, my sinShall cleave to thee.... For her who lies within,Make as thou wilt her burial. 'Tis thy taskTo tend thine own. But me: let no man askThis ancient city of my sires to giveHarbour in life to me. Set me to liveOn the wild hills and leave my name to thoseDeeps of Kithairon which my father chose,And mother, for my vast and living tomb.As they, my murderers, willed it, let my doomFind me. For this my very heart doth know,No sickness now, nor any mortal blow,Shall slay this body. Never had my breathBeen thus kept burning in the midst of death,Save for some frightful end. So, let my wayGo where it listeth.But my children—Nay,Creon, my sons will ask thee for no care.Men are they, and can find them everywhereWhat life needs. But my two poor desolateMaidens.... There was no table ever setApart for them, but whatso royal fareI tasted, they were with me and had shareIn all.... Creon, I pray, forget them not.And if it may be, go, bid them be brought,[Creongoes and presently returns with the two princesses.Oedipusthinks he is there all the time.That I may touch their faces, and so weep....Go, Prince. Go, noble heart!...If I might touch them, I should seem to keepAnd not to have lost them, now mine eyes are gone....What say I?In God's name, can it be I hear mine ownBeloved ones sobbing? Creon of his graceHath brought my two, my dearest, to this place.Is it true?Creon.'Tis true. I brought them, for in them I knowThy joy is, the same now as long ago.Oedipus.God bless thee, and in this hard journey giveSome better guide than mine to help thee live.Children! Where are ye? Hither; come to theseArms of your ... brother, whose wild officesHave brought much darkness on the once bright eyesOf him who grew your garden; who, nowiseSeeing nor understanding, digged a groundThe world shall shudder at. Children, my woundIs yours too, and I cannot meet your gazeNow, as I think me what remaining daysOf bitter living the world hath for you.What dance of damsels shall ye gather to,What feast of Thebes, but quick ye shall turn home,All tears, or ere the feast or dancers come?And, children, when ye reach the years of love,Who shall dare wed you, whose heart rise aboveThe peril, to take on him all the shameThat cleaves to my name and my children's name?God knows, it is enough!...My flowers, ye needs must die, waste things, bereftAnd fruitless.Creon, thou alone art leftTheir father now, since both of us are goneWho cared for them. Oh, leave them not aloneTo wander masterless, these thine own kin,And beggared. Neither think of them such sinAs ye all know in me, but let their fateTouch thee. So young they are, so desolate—Of all save thee. True man, give me thine hand,And promise.[OedipusandCreonclasp hands.If your age could understand,Children, full many counsels I could give.But now I leave this one word: Pray to liveAs life may suffer you, and find a roadTo travel easier than your father trod.Creon.Enough thy heart hath poured its tears; now back into thine house repair.Oedipus.I dread the house, yet go I must.Creon.Fair season maketh all things fair.Oedipus.One oath then give me, and I go.Creon.Name it, and I will answer thee.Oedipus.To cast me from this land.Creon.A gift not mine but God's thou askest me.Oedipus.I am a thing of God abhorred.Creon.The more, then, will he grant thy prayer.Oedipus.Thou givest thine oath?Creon.I see no light; and, seeing not, I may not swear.Oedipus.Then take me hence. I care not.Creon.Go in peace, and give these children o'er.Oedipus.Ah no! Take not away my daughters![They are taken from him.Creon.Seek not to be master more.Did not thy masteries of old forsake thee when the end was near?Chorus.Ye citizens of Thebes, behold; 'tis Oedipus that passeth here,Who read the riddle-word of Death, and mightiest stood of mortal men,And Fortune loved him, and the folk that saw him turned and looked again.Lo, he is fallen, and around great storms and the outreaching sea!Therefore, O Man, beware, and look toward the end of things that be,The last of sights, the last of days; and no man's life account as gainEre the full tale be finished and the darkness find him without pain.[Oedipusis led into the house and the doors close on him.
He shouts for one to open wide the gateAnd lead him forth, and to all Thebes displayHis father's murderer, his mother's.... Nay,Such words I will not speak. And his intentIs set, to cast himself in banishmentOut to the wild, not walk 'mid human breedBearing the curse he bears. Yet sore his needOf strength and of some guiding hand. For sureHe hath more burden now than man may endure.But see, the gates fall back, and that appearsWhich he who loathes shall pity—yea, with tears.[Oedipusis led in, blinded and bleeding. The Old Men bow down and hide their faces; some of them weep.Chorus.Oh, terrible! Oh, sight of allThis life hath crossed, most terrible!Thou man more wronged than tongue can tell,What madness took thee? Do there crawlLive Things of Evil from the deepTo leap on man? Oh, what a leapWas His that flung thee to thy fall!Leader.O fallen, fallen in ghastly case,I dare not raise mine eyes to thee;Fain would I look and ask and see,But shudder sickened from thy face.Oedipus.Oh, pain; pain and woe!Whither? Whither?They lead me and I go;And my voice drifts on the airFar away.Where, Thing of Evil, whereEndeth thy leaping hither?Leader.In fearful ends, which none may hear nor say.Oedipus.Cloud of the dark, mine own[Strophe.For ever, horrible,Stealing, stealing, silent, unconquerable,Cloud that no wind, no summer can dispel!Again, again I groan,As through my heart together crawl the strongStabs of this pain and memories of old wrong.Leader.Yea, twofold hosts of torment hast thou there,The stain to think on and the pain to bear.Oedipus.O Friend, thou mine own[Antistrophe.Still faithful, ministerSteadfast abiding alone of them that were,Dost bear with me and give the blind man care?Ah me! Not all unknownNor hid thou art. Deep in this dark a callComes and I know thy voice in spite of all.Leader.O fearful sufferer, and could'st thou killThy living orbs? What God made blind thy will?Oedipus.'Tis Apollo; all is Apollo,[Strophe.O ye that love me, 'tis he long time hath plannedThese things upon me evilly, evilly,Dark things and full of blood.I knew not; I did but followHis way; but mine the handAnd mine the anguish. What were mine eyes to meWhen naught to be seen was good?Leader.'Tis even so; and Truth doth speak in thee.Oedipus.To see, to endure, to hear words kindly spoken,Should I have joy in such?Out, if ye love your breath,Cast me swift unto solitude, unbrokenBy word or touch.Am I not charged with death,Most charged and filled to the brimWith curses? And what man saithGod hath so hated him?Leader.Thy bitter will, thy hard calamity,Would I had never known nor looked on thee!Oedipus.My curse, my curse upon him,[Antistrophe.That man whom pity held in the wilderness,Who saved the feet alive from the blood-fetterAnd loosed the barb thereof!That babe—what grace was done him,Had he died shelterless,He had not laid on himself this grief to bear,And all who gave him love.Leader.I, too, O Friend, I had been happier.Oedipus.Found not the way to his father's blood, nor shakenThe world's scorn on his mother,The child and the groom withal;But now, of murderers born, of God forsaken,Mine own sons' brother;All this, and if aught can fallUpon man more perilousAnd elder in sin, lo, allIs the portion of Oedipus.Leader.How shall I hold this counsel of thy mindTrue? Thou wert better dead than living blind.Oedipus.That this deed is not well and wisely wroughtThou shalt not show me; therefore school me not.Think, with what eyes hereafter in the placeOf shadows could I see my father's face,Or my poor mother's? Both of whom this handHath wronged too deep for man to understand.Or children—born as mine were born, to seeTheir shapes should bring me joy? Great God!To meThere is no joy in city nor in towerNor temple, from all whom, in this mine hour,I that was chief in Thebes alone, and ateThe King's bread, I have made me separateFor ever. Mine own lips have bid the landCast from it one so evil, one whose handTo sin was dedicate, whom God hath shownBirth-branded ... and my blood the dead King's own!All this myself have proved. And can I thenLook with straight eyes into the eyes of men?I trow not. Nay, if any stop there wereTo dam this fount that welleth in mine earFor hearing, I had never blenched nor stayedTill this vile shell were all one dungeon made,Dark, without sound. 'Tis thus the mind would fainFind peace, self-prisoned from a world of pain.O wild Kithairon, why was it thy willTo save me? Why not take me quick and kill,Kill, before ever I could make men knowThe thing I am, the thing from which I grow?Thou dead King, Polybus, thou city wallOf Corinth, thou old castle I did callMy father's, what a life did ye begin,What splendour rotted by the worm within,When ye bred me! O Crossing of the Roads,O secret glen and dusk of crowding woods,O narrow footpath creeping to the brinkWhere meet the Three! I gave you blood to drink.Do ye remember? 'Twas my life-blood, hotFrom mine own father's heart. Have ye forgotWhat deed I did among you, and what newAnd direr deed I fled from you to do?O flesh, horror of flesh!...But what is shameTo do should not be spoken. In God's name,Take me somewhere far off and cover meFrom sight, or slay, or cast me to the seaWhere never eye may see me any more.What? Do ye fear to touch a man so soreStricken? Nay, tremble not. My miseryIs mine, and shall be borne by none but me.Leader.Lo, yonder comes for answer to thy prayerCreon, to do and to decree. The careOf all our land is his, now thou art weak.Oedipus.Alas, what word to Creon can I speak,How make him trust me more? He hath seen of lateSo vile a heart in me, so full of hate.EnterCreon.Creon.Not to make laughter, Oedipus, nor castAgainst thee any evil of the pastI seek thee, but ... Ah God! ye ministers,Have ye no hearts? Or if for man there stirsNo pity in you, fear at least to callStain on our Lord the Sun, who feedeth all;Nor show in nakedness a horror suchAs this, which never mother Earth may touch,Nor God's clean rain nor sunlight. Quick within!Guide him.—The ills that in a house have beenThey of the house alone should know or hear.Oedipus.In God's name, since thou hast undone the fearWithin me, coming thus, all nobleness,To one so vile, grant me one only grace.For thy sake more I crave it than mine own.Creon.Let me first hear what grace thou wouldst be shown.Oedipus.Cast me from Thebes ... now, quick ... where none may seeMy visage more, nor mingle words with me.Creon.That had I done, for sure, save that I stillTremble, and fain would ask Apollo's will.Oedipus.His will was clear enough, to stamp the uncleanThing out, the bloody hand, the heart of sin.Creon.'Twas thus he seemed to speak; but in this soreStrait we must needs learn surer than before.Oedipus.Thou needs must trouble God for one so low?Creon.Surely; thyself will trust his answer now.Oedipus.I charge thee more ... and, if thou fail, my sinShall cleave to thee.... For her who lies within,Make as thou wilt her burial. 'Tis thy taskTo tend thine own. But me: let no man askThis ancient city of my sires to giveHarbour in life to me. Set me to liveOn the wild hills and leave my name to thoseDeeps of Kithairon which my father chose,And mother, for my vast and living tomb.As they, my murderers, willed it, let my doomFind me. For this my very heart doth know,No sickness now, nor any mortal blow,Shall slay this body. Never had my breathBeen thus kept burning in the midst of death,Save for some frightful end. So, let my wayGo where it listeth.But my children—Nay,Creon, my sons will ask thee for no care.Men are they, and can find them everywhereWhat life needs. But my two poor desolateMaidens.... There was no table ever setApart for them, but whatso royal fareI tasted, they were with me and had shareIn all.... Creon, I pray, forget them not.And if it may be, go, bid them be brought,[Creongoes and presently returns with the two princesses.Oedipusthinks he is there all the time.That I may touch their faces, and so weep....Go, Prince. Go, noble heart!...If I might touch them, I should seem to keepAnd not to have lost them, now mine eyes are gone....What say I?In God's name, can it be I hear mine ownBeloved ones sobbing? Creon of his graceHath brought my two, my dearest, to this place.Is it true?Creon.'Tis true. I brought them, for in them I knowThy joy is, the same now as long ago.Oedipus.God bless thee, and in this hard journey giveSome better guide than mine to help thee live.Children! Where are ye? Hither; come to theseArms of your ... brother, whose wild officesHave brought much darkness on the once bright eyesOf him who grew your garden; who, nowiseSeeing nor understanding, digged a groundThe world shall shudder at. Children, my woundIs yours too, and I cannot meet your gazeNow, as I think me what remaining daysOf bitter living the world hath for you.What dance of damsels shall ye gather to,What feast of Thebes, but quick ye shall turn home,All tears, or ere the feast or dancers come?And, children, when ye reach the years of love,Who shall dare wed you, whose heart rise aboveThe peril, to take on him all the shameThat cleaves to my name and my children's name?God knows, it is enough!...My flowers, ye needs must die, waste things, bereftAnd fruitless.Creon, thou alone art leftTheir father now, since both of us are goneWho cared for them. Oh, leave them not aloneTo wander masterless, these thine own kin,And beggared. Neither think of them such sinAs ye all know in me, but let their fateTouch thee. So young they are, so desolate—Of all save thee. True man, give me thine hand,And promise.[OedipusandCreonclasp hands.If your age could understand,Children, full many counsels I could give.But now I leave this one word: Pray to liveAs life may suffer you, and find a roadTo travel easier than your father trod.Creon.Enough thy heart hath poured its tears; now back into thine house repair.Oedipus.I dread the house, yet go I must.Creon.Fair season maketh all things fair.Oedipus.One oath then give me, and I go.Creon.Name it, and I will answer thee.Oedipus.To cast me from this land.Creon.A gift not mine but God's thou askest me.Oedipus.I am a thing of God abhorred.Creon.The more, then, will he grant thy prayer.Oedipus.Thou givest thine oath?Creon.I see no light; and, seeing not, I may not swear.Oedipus.Then take me hence. I care not.Creon.Go in peace, and give these children o'er.Oedipus.Ah no! Take not away my daughters![They are taken from him.Creon.Seek not to be master more.Did not thy masteries of old forsake thee when the end was near?Chorus.Ye citizens of Thebes, behold; 'tis Oedipus that passeth here,Who read the riddle-word of Death, and mightiest stood of mortal men,And Fortune loved him, and the folk that saw him turned and looked again.Lo, he is fallen, and around great storms and the outreaching sea!Therefore, O Man, beware, and look toward the end of things that be,The last of sights, the last of days; and no man's life account as gainEre the full tale be finished and the darkness find him without pain.[Oedipusis led into the house and the doors close on him.
He shouts for one to open wide the gateAnd lead him forth, and to all Thebes displayHis father's murderer, his mother's.... Nay,Such words I will not speak. And his intentIs set, to cast himself in banishmentOut to the wild, not walk 'mid human breedBearing the curse he bears. Yet sore his needOf strength and of some guiding hand. For sureHe hath more burden now than man may endure.But see, the gates fall back, and that appearsWhich he who loathes shall pity—yea, with tears.[Oedipusis led in, blinded and bleeding. The Old Men bow down and hide their faces; some of them weep.Chorus.Oh, terrible! Oh, sight of allThis life hath crossed, most terrible!Thou man more wronged than tongue can tell,What madness took thee? Do there crawlLive Things of Evil from the deepTo leap on man? Oh, what a leapWas His that flung thee to thy fall!Leader.O fallen, fallen in ghastly case,I dare not raise mine eyes to thee;Fain would I look and ask and see,But shudder sickened from thy face.Oedipus.Oh, pain; pain and woe!Whither? Whither?They lead me and I go;And my voice drifts on the airFar away.Where, Thing of Evil, whereEndeth thy leaping hither?Leader.In fearful ends, which none may hear nor say.Oedipus.Cloud of the dark, mine own[Strophe.For ever, horrible,Stealing, stealing, silent, unconquerable,Cloud that no wind, no summer can dispel!Again, again I groan,As through my heart together crawl the strongStabs of this pain and memories of old wrong.Leader.Yea, twofold hosts of torment hast thou there,The stain to think on and the pain to bear.Oedipus.O Friend, thou mine own[Antistrophe.Still faithful, ministerSteadfast abiding alone of them that were,Dost bear with me and give the blind man care?Ah me! Not all unknownNor hid thou art. Deep in this dark a callComes and I know thy voice in spite of all.Leader.O fearful sufferer, and could'st thou killThy living orbs? What God made blind thy will?Oedipus.'Tis Apollo; all is Apollo,[Strophe.O ye that love me, 'tis he long time hath plannedThese things upon me evilly, evilly,Dark things and full of blood.I knew not; I did but followHis way; but mine the handAnd mine the anguish. What were mine eyes to meWhen naught to be seen was good?Leader.'Tis even so; and Truth doth speak in thee.Oedipus.To see, to endure, to hear words kindly spoken,Should I have joy in such?Out, if ye love your breath,Cast me swift unto solitude, unbrokenBy word or touch.Am I not charged with death,Most charged and filled to the brimWith curses? And what man saithGod hath so hated him?Leader.Thy bitter will, thy hard calamity,Would I had never known nor looked on thee!Oedipus.My curse, my curse upon him,[Antistrophe.That man whom pity held in the wilderness,Who saved the feet alive from the blood-fetterAnd loosed the barb thereof!That babe—what grace was done him,Had he died shelterless,He had not laid on himself this grief to bear,And all who gave him love.Leader.I, too, O Friend, I had been happier.Oedipus.Found not the way to his father's blood, nor shakenThe world's scorn on his mother,The child and the groom withal;But now, of murderers born, of God forsaken,Mine own sons' brother;All this, and if aught can fallUpon man more perilousAnd elder in sin, lo, allIs the portion of Oedipus.Leader.How shall I hold this counsel of thy mindTrue? Thou wert better dead than living blind.Oedipus.That this deed is not well and wisely wroughtThou shalt not show me; therefore school me not.Think, with what eyes hereafter in the placeOf shadows could I see my father's face,Or my poor mother's? Both of whom this handHath wronged too deep for man to understand.Or children—born as mine were born, to seeTheir shapes should bring me joy? Great God!To meThere is no joy in city nor in towerNor temple, from all whom, in this mine hour,I that was chief in Thebes alone, and ateThe King's bread, I have made me separateFor ever. Mine own lips have bid the landCast from it one so evil, one whose handTo sin was dedicate, whom God hath shownBirth-branded ... and my blood the dead King's own!All this myself have proved. And can I thenLook with straight eyes into the eyes of men?I trow not. Nay, if any stop there wereTo dam this fount that welleth in mine earFor hearing, I had never blenched nor stayedTill this vile shell were all one dungeon made,Dark, without sound. 'Tis thus the mind would fainFind peace, self-prisoned from a world of pain.O wild Kithairon, why was it thy willTo save me? Why not take me quick and kill,Kill, before ever I could make men knowThe thing I am, the thing from which I grow?Thou dead King, Polybus, thou city wallOf Corinth, thou old castle I did callMy father's, what a life did ye begin,What splendour rotted by the worm within,When ye bred me! O Crossing of the Roads,O secret glen and dusk of crowding woods,O narrow footpath creeping to the brinkWhere meet the Three! I gave you blood to drink.Do ye remember? 'Twas my life-blood, hotFrom mine own father's heart. Have ye forgotWhat deed I did among you, and what newAnd direr deed I fled from you to do?O flesh, horror of flesh!...But what is shameTo do should not be spoken. In God's name,Take me somewhere far off and cover meFrom sight, or slay, or cast me to the seaWhere never eye may see me any more.What? Do ye fear to touch a man so soreStricken? Nay, tremble not. My miseryIs mine, and shall be borne by none but me.Leader.Lo, yonder comes for answer to thy prayerCreon, to do and to decree. The careOf all our land is his, now thou art weak.Oedipus.Alas, what word to Creon can I speak,How make him trust me more? He hath seen of lateSo vile a heart in me, so full of hate.EnterCreon.Creon.Not to make laughter, Oedipus, nor castAgainst thee any evil of the pastI seek thee, but ... Ah God! ye ministers,Have ye no hearts? Or if for man there stirsNo pity in you, fear at least to callStain on our Lord the Sun, who feedeth all;Nor show in nakedness a horror suchAs this, which never mother Earth may touch,Nor God's clean rain nor sunlight. Quick within!Guide him.—The ills that in a house have beenThey of the house alone should know or hear.Oedipus.In God's name, since thou hast undone the fearWithin me, coming thus, all nobleness,To one so vile, grant me one only grace.For thy sake more I crave it than mine own.Creon.Let me first hear what grace thou wouldst be shown.Oedipus.Cast me from Thebes ... now, quick ... where none may seeMy visage more, nor mingle words with me.Creon.That had I done, for sure, save that I stillTremble, and fain would ask Apollo's will.Oedipus.His will was clear enough, to stamp the uncleanThing out, the bloody hand, the heart of sin.Creon.'Twas thus he seemed to speak; but in this soreStrait we must needs learn surer than before.Oedipus.Thou needs must trouble God for one so low?Creon.Surely; thyself will trust his answer now.Oedipus.I charge thee more ... and, if thou fail, my sinShall cleave to thee.... For her who lies within,Make as thou wilt her burial. 'Tis thy taskTo tend thine own. But me: let no man askThis ancient city of my sires to giveHarbour in life to me. Set me to liveOn the wild hills and leave my name to thoseDeeps of Kithairon which my father chose,And mother, for my vast and living tomb.As they, my murderers, willed it, let my doomFind me. For this my very heart doth know,No sickness now, nor any mortal blow,Shall slay this body. Never had my breathBeen thus kept burning in the midst of death,Save for some frightful end. So, let my wayGo where it listeth.But my children—Nay,Creon, my sons will ask thee for no care.Men are they, and can find them everywhereWhat life needs. But my two poor desolateMaidens.... There was no table ever setApart for them, but whatso royal fareI tasted, they were with me and had shareIn all.... Creon, I pray, forget them not.And if it may be, go, bid them be brought,[Creongoes and presently returns with the two princesses.Oedipusthinks he is there all the time.That I may touch their faces, and so weep....Go, Prince. Go, noble heart!...If I might touch them, I should seem to keepAnd not to have lost them, now mine eyes are gone....What say I?In God's name, can it be I hear mine ownBeloved ones sobbing? Creon of his graceHath brought my two, my dearest, to this place.Is it true?Creon.'Tis true. I brought them, for in them I knowThy joy is, the same now as long ago.Oedipus.God bless thee, and in this hard journey giveSome better guide than mine to help thee live.Children! Where are ye? Hither; come to theseArms of your ... brother, whose wild officesHave brought much darkness on the once bright eyesOf him who grew your garden; who, nowiseSeeing nor understanding, digged a groundThe world shall shudder at. Children, my woundIs yours too, and I cannot meet your gazeNow, as I think me what remaining daysOf bitter living the world hath for you.What dance of damsels shall ye gather to,What feast of Thebes, but quick ye shall turn home,All tears, or ere the feast or dancers come?And, children, when ye reach the years of love,Who shall dare wed you, whose heart rise aboveThe peril, to take on him all the shameThat cleaves to my name and my children's name?God knows, it is enough!...My flowers, ye needs must die, waste things, bereftAnd fruitless.Creon, thou alone art leftTheir father now, since both of us are goneWho cared for them. Oh, leave them not aloneTo wander masterless, these thine own kin,And beggared. Neither think of them such sinAs ye all know in me, but let their fateTouch thee. So young they are, so desolate—Of all save thee. True man, give me thine hand,And promise.[OedipusandCreonclasp hands.If your age could understand,Children, full many counsels I could give.But now I leave this one word: Pray to liveAs life may suffer you, and find a roadTo travel easier than your father trod.Creon.Enough thy heart hath poured its tears; now back into thine house repair.Oedipus.I dread the house, yet go I must.Creon.Fair season maketh all things fair.Oedipus.One oath then give me, and I go.Creon.Name it, and I will answer thee.Oedipus.To cast me from this land.Creon.A gift not mine but God's thou askest me.Oedipus.I am a thing of God abhorred.Creon.The more, then, will he grant thy prayer.Oedipus.Thou givest thine oath?Creon.I see no light; and, seeing not, I may not swear.Oedipus.Then take me hence. I care not.Creon.Go in peace, and give these children o'er.Oedipus.Ah no! Take not away my daughters![They are taken from him.Creon.Seek not to be master more.Did not thy masteries of old forsake thee when the end was near?Chorus.Ye citizens of Thebes, behold; 'tis Oedipus that passeth here,Who read the riddle-word of Death, and mightiest stood of mortal men,And Fortune loved him, and the folk that saw him turned and looked again.Lo, he is fallen, and around great storms and the outreaching sea!Therefore, O Man, beware, and look toward the end of things that be,The last of sights, the last of days; and no man's life account as gainEre the full tale be finished and the darkness find him without pain.[Oedipusis led into the house and the doors close on him.