Sophocles Oedipus Trilogy | Page 5

the god's command is plain:
Punish his
takers-off, whoe'er they be.
OEDIPUS
Where are they? Where in the wide world to find
The
far, faint traces of a bygone crime?
CREON
In this land, said the god; "who seeks shall find;
Who sits
with folded hands or sleeps is blind."
OEDIPUS
Was he within his palace, or afield,
Or traveling, when
Laius met his fate?
CREON
Abroad; he started, so he told us, bound
For Delphi, but
he never thence returned.

OEDIPUS
Came there no news, no fellow-traveler
To give some
clue that might be followed up?
CREON
But one escape, who flying for dear life,
Could tell of all
he saw but one thing sure.
OEDIPUS
And what was that? One clue might lead us far,
With
but a spark of hope to guide our quest.
CREON
Robbers, he told us, not one bandit but
A troop of knaves,
attacked and murdered him.
OEDIPUS
Did any bandit dare so bold a stroke,
Unless indeed he
were suborned from Thebes?
CREON
So 'twas surmised, but none was found to avenge
His
murder mid the trouble that ensued.
OEDIPUS
What trouble can have hindered a full quest,
When
royalty had fallen thus miserably?
CREON
The riddling Sphinx compelled us to let slide
The dim
past and attend to instant needs.
OEDIPUS
Well, _I_ will start afresh and once again
Make dark
things clear. Right worthy the concern
Of Phoebus, worthy thine too,
for the dead;
I also, as is meet, will lend my aid
To avenge this
wrong to Thebes and to the god.
Not for some far-off kinsman, but
myself,
Shall I expel this poison in the blood;
For whoso slew that
king might have a mind
To strike me too with his assassin hand.

Therefore in righting him I serve myself.
Up, children, haste ye, quit
these altar stairs,
Take hence your suppliant wands, go summon
hither
The Theban commons. With the god's good help
Success is
sure; 'tis ruin if we fail.
[Exeunt OEDIPUS and CREON]
PRIEST
Come, children, let us hence; these gracious words


Forestall the very purpose of our suit.
And may the god who sent this
oracle
Save us withal and rid us of this pest.
[Exeunt PRIEST and
SUPPLIANTS]
CHORUS
(Str. 1)
Sweet-voiced daughter of Zeus from thy
gold-paved Pythian shrine
Wafted to Thebes divine,
What dost thou bring me? My soul is
racked and shivers with fear.
(Healer of Delos, hear!)
Hast thou some pain unknown before,
Or
with the circling years renewest a penance of yore?
Offspring of
golden Hope, thou voice immortal, O tell me.
(Ant. 1)
First on Athene I call; O Zeus-born goddess, defend!
Goddess and sister, befriend,
Artemis, Lady of Thebes, high-throned
in the midst of our mart!
Lord of the death-winged dart!
Your threefold aid I crave
From
death and ruin our city to save.
If in the days of old when we nigh had
perished, ye drave
From our land the fiery plague, be near us now and
defend us!
(Str. 2)
Ah me, what countless woes are mine!
All our host is in decline;

Weaponless my spirit lies.
Earth her gracious fruits denies;
Women
wail in barren throes;
Life on life downstriken goes,
Swifter than
the wind bird's flight,
Swifter than the Fire-God's might,
To the
westering shores of Night.
(Ant. 2)
Wasted thus by death on death
All our city perisheth.
Corpses
spread infection round;
None to tend or mourn is found.
Wailing on

the altar stair
Wives and grandams rend the air--
Long-drawn
moans and piercing cries
Blent with prayers and litanies.
Golden
child of Zeus, O hear
Let thine angel face appear!
(Str. 3)
And grant that Ares whose hot breath I feel,
Though without targe or steel
He stalks, whose voice is as the battle
shout,
May turn in sudden rout,
To the unharbored Thracian waters
sped,
Or Amphitrite's bed.
For what night leaves undone,
Smit by the
morrow's sun
Perisheth. Father Zeus, whose hand
Doth wield the
lightning brand,
Slay him beneath thy levin bold, we pray,
Slay him, O slay!
(Ant. 3)
O that thine arrows too, Lycean King,
From that taut bow's gold string,
Might fly abroad, the champions of
our rights;
Yea, and the flashing lights
Of Artemis, wherewith the huntress
sweeps
Across the Lycian steeps.
Thee too I call with golden-snooded hair,
Whose name our land doth bear,
Bacchus to whom thy Maenads
Evoe shout;
Come with thy bright torch, rout,
Blithe god whom we adore,
The god whom gods abhor.
[Enter OEDIPUS.]
OEDIPUS
Ye pray; 'tis well, but would ye hear
my words
And heed them and apply the remedy,
Ye might
perchance find comfort and relief.
Mind you, I speak as one who

comes a stranger
To this report, no less than to the crime;
For how
unaided could I track it far
Without a clue? Which lacking (for too
late
Was I enrolled a citizen of Thebes)
This proclamation I address
to all:--
Thebans, if any knows the man by whom
Laius, son of
Labdacus, was slain,
I summon him to make clean shrift to me.
And
if he shrinks, let him reflect that thus
Confessing he shall 'scape the
capital