oedipus Did anyone ever get punished for speaking under orders?
creon Far from the city there is a grove, shaded with
holm-oaks,
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next to the moist ground by Dirce’s spring.
A cypress tree lifts up its head above the lofty wood,
binding the other trees with its constant foliage.
An ancient oak tree stretches out gnarled branches,
rotten with neglect. Devouring age has torn
the side of its trunk away; the root is ripped apart;
the falling tree is propped against another.
Laurel with its bitter berries, slender lime,
Paphian myrtle, alder trees which rush
through the vast ocean;* and pine, whose smooth trunk
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rises high to meet the sun, and can withstand the winds.
In the very middle stands a mighty tree,
shadowing over the smaller trees, defending
the whole grove together with its enormous girth.
Under it overflows a stream that knows no light,
stiff and frozen with perpetual cold;
a muddy swamp surrounds the stagnant pool.
When the old priest began to enter here,
at once the place provided him with night.
The ditch was dug, and fire from funeral pyres
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was thrown on top. Tiresias was wearing
his funeral outfit, as he waved his leaves.
The old man came in dirty, shabby clothes,
his mourning cloak poured down to cover his feet,
and deadly yew wreathed round his whitened hair.
Black-fleeced sheep and black heifers were dragged
backwards to the fire. The flames devoured them,
and their living hearts were shaking as they burnt.
He cried out to the dead, and you, Lord of the Dead,
and you, the Guardian of the Lake of Lethe.*
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Reciting the magic spell, his mouth possessed, he sang
* * *
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oedipus
all charms to please the flitting ghosts, or force them.
He pours blood on the hearth, and burns whole bodies
of animals, and soaks the ditch with blood.
He pours on top a stream of snow-white milk,
and also pours in wine with his left hand,
and chants again, and looking at the earth
he calls the spirits with a deeper, wilder voice.
The hounds of Hecate are barking loud; three times
the valley
rumbles in grief, and earth, struck from below,
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is shaken. ‘Now they hear me!’ cried the priest.
‘My prayers are answered; the black gulf is broken,
there is a path for the dead to the upper air.’
The whole forest shrank back, its leaves now stood on end,
the oaks were cracked, and all the grove was struck
with terror. Earth drew back and groaned within.
Either Hell was upset to feel its hidden depths
plumbed, or it was Earth herself, who burst her links,
with a moan, to give a way up out of there for the dead.
Or else the three-headed dog, Cerberus, in a rage,
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shook himself and clattered his heavy chains.
All of a sudden the earth gaped open; a chasm
split, enormous. I saw with my own eyes the stagnant lakes,
the spirits, the pale-faced gods, and that true night.
My blood ran cold, it froze still in my veins.
Out jumped a wild, ferocious troop, and stopped
full-armed before us, all the snaky sons,
the soldier brothers born from the dragon’s teeth.*
Then the fierce Fury screamed, and blind, mad Passion,
Terror, and all together, the secret children
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of eternal darkness: Grief, tearing her hair,
Sickness, hardly holding up his weary head;
Old Age burdened with itself, and looming Fear,
and Plague, greedy to eat the Theban people.
Our hearts sank. Even the girl, who knew
her father’s art and ritual, was aghast.
Her father, bold in blindness, bravely summoned
the bloodless folk of cruel King Dis. At once
like clouds they fly and rob the clear skies of their air.
* * *
oedipus
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More numerous than the falling leaves of Eryx,
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or all the flowers of Hybla in the spring,
when the dense swarm weaves round them in a ball;
or all the crashing waves of the Ionian Sea;
in icy Thrace, cut through the sky and swap
the Arctic snows for the warm Egyptian Nile —
more than all these were the ghosts the prophet’s magic called.
The trembling spirits were eager to seek out
hiding places in the shady wood. The first to rise
up from the ground was Zethus, his right hand holding
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the horn of a wild bull; and Amphion,* whose left hand
holds the sweet-voiced conch that leads the rocks.
Niobe, rejoined at last to her dear children,
carries her head high up with pride, and counts
her ghosts.* Here comes a much worse mother, Agave,
still crazy.* With her comes that group of women
who tore the king apart; and mangled Pentheus
follows the maenads, still furiously threatening them.
The priest keeps calling to a single ghost; at last,
embarrassed, he lifts his head, keeping his distance,
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and tries to hide himself; the priest redoubles
his Stygian prayers, until his face is out
into the open — Laius! I shudder to tell it.
He looked terrible, his whole body covered with blood,
his matted dirty hair covered up his eyes.
His voice was desperate: ‘Savage house of Cadmus,
always happy with your family’s blood,
shake the thyrsus, tear your children up
with hands possessed. The greatest crime in Thebes
is mother-love. Land of my fathers, you are ruined
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not by the anger of gods but by your crimes.
The plague wind did not blast you, your destruction
was not from lack of rain to cause a drought;
it was a blood-stained king, who took the throne
as a reward for murder, and — abomination! —
seized his father’s bed. Horrible child! But the mother
is even worse, her cursed womb pregnant again.
He pushed into the place from which he came, and got
* * *
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oedipus
cursed children by his mother, doing what
even the wild beasts shun — he fathered his own brothers.
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He is a tangled web of evil, a monster worse than the Sphinx.
It is you, you, who hold the bloodied sceptre!
I, your father unavenged, seek you and your whole city,
and I bring with me the Fury, bridesmaid of your marriage,
whipping her lash. I will overturn your house,
polluted by wicked sex and wicked murder.
So you must drive the king in exile from this land
immediately; curse upon him! Let him go anywhere.
Just let him leave. The country will grow green
and flower again, the air will be made clean
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and healthy, beauty will return to all the trees.
Ruin, Destructio
n, Death, Pain, Grief, and Rottenness
are fit companions for him, let them go with him.
He himself will want to run away
to leave my kingdom, but I will hang weights
upon his feet to keep him here; he will wander, lost,
testing the ground before him with an old man’s stick.
You make him lose the earth and I will make him lose the sky.’
oedipus Cold shuddering shakes my body and my bones.
I am accused of having done all that I feared to do.
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But Merope is still married to her husband! Proof
that this cannot be true. And Polybus’ life
proves my innocence. Both parents can bear witness
I did not do these crimes. What room for guilt can there be?
Thebes was in mourning for Laius before I even came,
before I set my foot on Boeotian soil.
Is the priest lying? Is some god against us?
Now! You! I have got the cunning conspirators:
Tiresias invented it, using the gods
as cover for his trick. He promised my throne to you.
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creon Why would I want to drive my sister out?
Even if holy loyalty to family
did not restrain me to my proper station,
I would be too scared of fortune itself,
which always brings anxiety. I only wish you too
could safely put this weight aside, not let it hurt
as you leave it behind. A humbler place is safer.
* * *
oedipus
59
oedipus Are you advising me to resign the cares of state
of my own free will?
creon
I would advise that plan
to one who had a choice whether to stay or go.
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You have no choice now. You must bear your lot.
oedipus The surest way for those who want to rule
is praising moderation, talking of peace and quiet.
Restless people often pretend to be calm.
creon Does my long loyalty mean nothing to you?
oedipus Loyalty gives traitors opportunity.
creon Freed from the burdens of kingship, I enjoy
the benefits of royalty, my home throngs with visitors,
and every day that dawns from night, I get
plenty of presents from my royal kin.
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Rich clothes, and luxurious gourmet food,
and safety — I can give these to my friends.
What could I think missing from such happiness?
oedipus The thing you do not have. Luck knows no limits.
creon Will you condemn me without hearing me?
oedipus Did you provide a defence speech for my life?
Did Tiresias hear my case? No! But you think
I am guilty. You set the example. I follow.
creon What if I am innocent?
oedipus
Kings usually fear
possibilities as much as truth.
creon
Those with false fears
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deserve real ones.
oedipus
When guilty men go free
they feel resentful. No more doubts for me.
creon The perfect way to hatred.
oedipus
A man who shrinks from hatred
does not know how to rule. Kingdoms stay safe through fear.
creon The rule of tyrants and of savages
depends on mutual fear. But fear comes back to haunt you.
oedipus Shut up this guilty man in a stone dungeon.
I will myself return to the royal palace.
chorus You were not the start of all this trouble.
The curse which haunts the House of Labdacus
710
is nothing new; the anger of the gods
* * *
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oedipus
against you started long ago. Cadmus came from Sidon*
took refuge in Castalian woods, and Dirce’s waters*
washed clean the Tyrians,* and they settled there.
The mighty hero, tired from searching all the world
to find his sister,* raped by Jupiter,
frightened, rested here beneath our tree,
and prayed to that same god* who stole the girl.
An oracle* from Phoebus told him: ‘Follow the wandering cow,
who never bends beneath the wagon yoke,
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or pulls the plough.’ His journey ended here.
He named our land, ‘Oxonia’, Boeotia,*
after that cow — an inauspicious name.
From that time on, this country keeps producing
more and more monstrous prodigies. A dragon
springs from the earth, his mighty body reaching
from the low ground to up above the pines,
snaking his body round an aged oak.
He lifted up his sky-dark head beyond
the tall Chaonian treetops,* while he lay
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still resting most of his body on the ground.*
Then the land got pregnant and gave birth
to terrible children: troops in battle-gear.
The signal sounded as the horn was blown,
the curved bronze trumpet gave a piercing shriek.
The newborn men had never learned to speak;
the battle-cry was the first thing they said.
Armies of brothers line in the battlefield,
the sons you would expect from dragon’s teeth,
born to live out a lifetime in a day;
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they rose when Lucifer* was risen, and
died when the Hesperides were not yet up.
The traveller, Cadmus, shudders at these omens,
watching in terror as they fight it out,
until those wild young men at last are dead.
Their mother earth sees them returned to her,
back to the womb from which they just emerged.
May we escape from dreadful civil war!
Hercules’ city, Thebes, is well aware,
how brothers fight with brothers.
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* * *
oedipus
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And what about what happened to the hunter,*
Cadmus’s grandson, when his brow was wreathed
with fresh new sprouts — the antlers of a stag —
and when the hounds ran after their own master?
Headlong he fled the forests and the hills,
swift Actaeon. He moves more nimbly now,
rushing over rocks and through ravines.
Even a feather moving in the wind
can startle him. He runs from his own nets.
Eventually he comes to a still pool,
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and in the water sees the antlers, sees
the face of the wild animal. It was the very pool
where that cruelly-modest goddess* washed.
ACT FOUR
oedipus My mind turns over worries, finds new things to fear.
The gods of sky and underworld declare
that I am Laius’ murderer. But my own heart
protests its innocence, and says I better know myself.
My memory retraces the faint path of the past.
Yes, the man died — he blocked my way — my stick struck him.
He went to Hades. He was a proud old man
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and I was young — he had tried to run me down.
It was far from Thebes, in Phocis, where the road divides into three.
My darling, can you please resolve my doubts?
How old was Laius when he died? Was he
a vigorous young man, or was he old?
jocasta He was in middle-age, more old than young.
oedipus And did he take a l
ot of servants with him?
jocasta Most of them got lost. Only a few
faithful ones still followed by his chariot.
oedipus Did any of them die beside their king?
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jocasta A single loyal servant died with him.
oedipus I know who did it. The number and the place
all fit. But when was this?
jocasta
Ten harvest-times ago.
corinthian old man The men of Corinth call you to inherit
* * *
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oedipus
your father’s royal throne: Polybus is dead.
oedipus How cruel Fate attacks me on all sides!
Well, come then, tell me how my father died.
old man The old man passed away in gentle sleep.
oedipus My father is dead and no one murdered him.
Proof! I now can hold clean hands to heaven,
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I need not be afraid of my own actions.
But wait — the worst part of the oracle remains.
old man Your father’s royal power keeps you immune.
oedipus I will inherit my father’s throne — but I still fear my
mother.
old man Why should you be afraid of a parent, who only wants
you home again?
oedipus
My duty as a son makes me run from her.
old man You abandon her now she is widowed?
oedipus
That is what I am
scared of.
old man Tell me what fear lies buried in your mind.
I am used to keeping royal secrets hidden.
oedipus I shudder at marriage to Mother, foretold by Delphi. 800
old man That is no reason for fear! You need not worry:
Merope was not really your true mother.
oedipus Why would she raise a child that was not hers?
old man Royal lines need heirs to keep them safe.
oedipus Tell me, how did you hear their family secret?
old man I gave you as a baby to your mother.
oedipus You gave me to her, but who gave me to you?
old man A shepherd on Cithaeron’s snowy ridge.
oedipus How did you happen to be in that place?
old man I used to tend my long-horned sheep up there.
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oedipus Now for the proof. How is my body marked?
old man Your feet were scarred by being pierced with iron.
You got your name from your swollen, damaged feet.*
oedipus Who gave my body to you as a gift?
old man He was chief shepherd of the royal flock.
He had many shepherds under him.
oedipus Tell me his name.
old man
I cannot. Old folks’ minds