ἄλλος δὲ Κάδμου λαὸν ὧδ᾽ ἀθροιζέτω,
Oedipus Tyrannus. Sophocles. ed. Lewis Campbell. Oxford. 1879.
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Greek (Lewis Campbell, 1879) (OCR draft) (Greek) (Greek (Lewis Campbell, 1879))
Provisional text from uncorrected OCR; expect errors.
Editions (1)
Greek (F. Storr, 1912) (OCR draft) Experimental (Greek (F. Storr, 1912)) — 151-215 focus
Χορός
ὦ Διὸς ἁδυεπὲς φάτι, τίς ποτε τᾶς πολυχρύσου
Πυθῶνος ἀγλαὰς ἔβας
Θήβας; ἐκτέταμαι φοβερὰν φρένα, δείματι πάλλων,
ἰήιε Δάλιε Παιάν,
ἀμφὶ σοὶ ἁζόμενος τί μοι ἢ νέον
155
ἢ περιτελλομέναις ὥραις πάλιν ἐξανύσεις χρέος.
εἰπέ μοι, ὦ χρυσέας τέκνον Ἐλπίδος, ἄμβροτε Φάμα.
ὦ Διὸς ἁδυεπὲς φάτι, τίς ποτε τᾶς πολυχρύσου
Πυθῶνος ἀγλαὰς ἔβας
Θήβας; ἐκτέταμαι φοβερὰν φρένα, δείματι πάλλων,
ἰήιε Δάλιε Παιάν,
ἀμφὶ σοὶ ἁζόμενος τί μοι ἢ νέον
155
ἢ περιτελλομέναις ὥραις πάλιν ἐξανύσεις χρέος.
εἰπέ μοι, ὦ χρυσέας τέκνον Ἐλπίδος, ἄμβροτε Φάμα.
Χορός
πρῶτα σὲ κεκλόμενος, θύγατερ Διός, ἄμβροτʼ Ἀθάνα
160
γαιάοχόν τʼ ἀδελφεὰν
Ἄρτεμιν, ἃ κυκλόεντʼ ἀγορᾶς θρόνον εὐκλέα θάσσει,
καὶ Φοῖβον ἑκαβόλον, ἰὼ
τρισσοὶ ἀλεξίμοροι προφάνητέ μοι,
εἴ ποτε καὶ προτέρας ἄτας ὕπερ ὀρνυμένας πόλει
165
ἠνύσατʼ ἐκτοπίαν φλόγα πήματος, ἔλθετε καὶ νῦν.
πρῶτα σὲ κεκλόμενος, θύγατερ Διός, ἄμβροτʼ Ἀθάνα
160
γαιάοχόν τʼ ἀδελφεὰν
Ἄρτεμιν, ἃ κυκλόεντʼ ἀγορᾶς θρόνον εὐκλέα θάσσει,
καὶ Φοῖβον ἑκαβόλον, ἰὼ
τρισσοὶ ἀλεξίμοροι προφάνητέ μοι,
εἴ ποτε καὶ προτέρας ἄτας ὕπερ ὀρνυμένας πόλει
165
ἠνύσατʼ ἐκτοπίαν φλόγα πήματος, ἔλθετε καὶ νῦν.
Χορός
ὦ πόποι, ἀνάριθμα γὰρ φέρω
πήματα· νοσεῖ δέ μοι πρόπας στόλος, οὐδʼ ἔνι φροντίδος ἔγχος
170
ᾧ τις ἀλέξεται. οὔτε γὰρ ἔκγονα
κλυτᾶς χθονὸς αὔξεται οὔτε τόκοισιν
ἰηίων καμάτων ἀνέχουσι γυναῖκες·
ἄλλον δʼ ἂν ἄλλῳ προσίδοις ἅπερ εὔπτερον ὄρνιν
175
κρεῖσσον ἀμαιμακέτου πυρὸς ὄρμενον
ἀκτὰν πρὸς ἑσπέρου θεοῦ.
ὦ πόποι, ἀνάριθμα γὰρ φέρω
πήματα· νοσεῖ δέ μοι πρόπας στόλος, οὐδʼ ἔνι φροντίδος ἔγχος
170
ᾧ τις ἀλέξεται. οὔτε γὰρ ἔκγονα
κλυτᾶς χθονὸς αὔξεται οὔτε τόκοισιν
ἰηίων καμάτων ἀνέχουσι γυναῖκες·
ἄλλον δʼ ἂν ἄλλῳ προσίδοις ἅπερ εὔπτερον ὄρνιν
175
κρεῖσσον ἀμαιμακέτου πυρὸς ὄρμενον
ἀκτὰν πρὸς ἑσπέρου θεοῦ.
Χορός
ὧν πόλις ἀνάριθμος ὄλλυται·
νηλέα δὲ γένεθλα πρὸς πέδῳ θαναταφόρα κεῖται ἀνοίκτως·
180
ἐν δʼ ἄλοχοι πολιαί τʼ ἔπι ματέρες
ἀχὰν παραβώμιον ἄλλοθεν ἄλλαν
λυγρῶν πόνων ἱκετῆρες ἐπιστενάχουσιν.
παιὰν δὲ λάμπει στονόεσσά τε γῆρυς ὅμαυλος
185
ὧν ὕπερ, ὦ χρυσέα θύγατερ Διός,
εὐῶπα πέμψον ἀλκάν.
ὧν πόλις ἀνάριθμος ὄλλυται·
νηλέα δὲ γένεθλα πρὸς πέδῳ θαναταφόρα κεῖται ἀνοίκτως·
180
ἐν δʼ ἄλοχοι πολιαί τʼ ἔπι ματέρες
ἀχὰν παραβώμιον ἄλλοθεν ἄλλαν
λυγρῶν πόνων ἱκετῆρες ἐπιστενάχουσιν.
παιὰν δὲ λάμπει στονόεσσά τε γῆρυς ὅμαυλος
185
ὧν ὕπερ, ὦ χρυσέα θύγατερ Διός,
εὐῶπα πέμψον ἀλκάν.
Χορός
Ἄρεά τε τὸν μαλερόν, ὃς νῦν ἄχαλκος ἀσπίδων
190
φλέγει με περιβόατον, ἀντιάζω
παλίσσυτον δράμημα νωτίσαι πάτρας
ἔπουρον, εἴτʼ ἐς μέγαν θάλαμον Ἀμφιτρίτας
εἴτʼ ἐς τὸν ἀπόξενον ὅρμων
195
Θρῄκιον κλύδωνα·
τελεῖν γὰρ εἴ τι νὺξ ἀφῇ,
τοῦτʼ ἐπʼ ἦμαρ ἔρχεται·
τόν, ὦ τᾶν πυρφόρων
ἀστραπᾶν κράτη νέμων,
200
ὦ Ζεῦ πάτερ, ὑπὸ σῷ φθίσον κεραυνῷ,
Ἄρεά τε τὸν μαλερόν, ὃς νῦν ἄχαλκος ἀσπίδων
190
φλέγει με περιβόατον, ἀντιάζω
παλίσσυτον δράμημα νωτίσαι πάτρας
ἔπουρον, εἴτʼ ἐς μέγαν θάλαμον Ἀμφιτρίτας
εἴτʼ ἐς τὸν ἀπόξενον ὅρμων
195
Θρῄκιον κλύδωνα·
τελεῖν γὰρ εἴ τι νὺξ ἀφῇ,
τοῦτʼ ἐπʼ ἦμαρ ἔρχεται·
τόν, ὦ τᾶν πυρφόρων
ἀστραπᾶν κράτη νέμων,
200
ὦ Ζεῦ πάτερ, ὑπὸ σῷ φθίσον κεραυνῷ,
Χορός
Λύκειʼ ἄναξ, τά τε σὰ χρυσοστρόφων ἀπʼ ἀγκυλᾶν
βέλεα θέλοιμʼ ἂν ἀδάματʼ ἐνδατεῖσθαι
ἀρωγὰ προσταχθέντα τάς τε πυρφόρους
205
Ἀρτέμιδος αἴγλας, ξὺν αἷς Λύκιʼ ὄρεα διᾴσσει·
τὸν χρυσομίτραν τε κικλήσκω,
τᾶσδʼ ἐπώνυμον γᾶς,
210
οἰνῶπα Βάκχον εὔιον,
Μαινάδων ὁμόστολον,
πελασθῆναι φλέγοντʼ
ἀγλαῶπι ¯ ˘ ¯
πεύκᾳ ʼπὶ τὸν ἀπότιμον ἐν θεοῖς θεόν.
215
Λύκειʼ ἄναξ, τά τε σὰ χρυσοστρόφων ἀπʼ ἀγκυλᾶν
βέλεα θέλοιμʼ ἂν ἀδάματʼ ἐνδατεῖσθαι
ἀρωγὰ προσταχθέντα τάς τε πυρφόρους
205
Ἀρτέμιδος αἴγλας, ξὺν αἷς Λύκιʼ ὄρεα διᾴσσει·
τὸν χρυσομίτραν τε κικλήσκω,
τᾶσδʼ ἐπώνυμον γᾶς,
210
οἰνῶπα Βάκχον εὔιον,
Μαινάδων ὁμόστολον,
πελασθῆναι φλέγοντʼ
ἀγλαῶπι ¯ ˘ ¯
πεύκᾳ ʼπὶ τὸν ἀπότιμον ἐν θεοῖς θεόν.
215
Translations (5)
English (Lewis Campbell, 1906) (OCR draft) Experimental (English (Lewis Campbell, 1906)) — 144 focus
CH
616
Prudence bids hearken to such words, my lord,
For fear one fall. Swift is not sure in counsel.
Prudence bids hearken to such words, my lord,
For fear one fall. Swift is not sure in counsel.
German (J. J. C. Donner, 1875; OCR review) (OCR draft) Experimental (German (J. J. C. Donner, 1875; OCR review)) — 151 focus
Goldreichem Haus zur heitern Burg
Thebä's? Bangend erstarr' ich im Geist und erzittre vor Schrecken,
Heilschaffender, Delier, Päan!
4
Ahnend erbebt mir das Herz, was heute du,
155
Oder in rollender Jahr' Umlaufe mir
Künftig enthüllen wirst.
Sag' es, der Hoffnung Tochter, der goldenen, himmlische Stimme!
5
Erste Gegenstrophe.
Goldreichem Haus zur heitern Burg
Thebä's? Bangend erstarr' ich im Geist und erzittre vor Schrecken,
Heilschaffender, Delier, Päan!
4
Ahnend erbebt mir das Herz, was heute du,
155
Oder in rollender Jahr' Umlaufe mir
Künftig enthüllen wirst.
Sag' es, der Hoffnung Tochter, der goldenen, himmlische Stimme!
5
English (Thomas Francklin, 1758–1759) (OCR draft) Experimental (English (Thomas Francklin, 1758–1759)) — 144 focus
Chorus
From reports
Uncertain, and suspicions most injurious.
The quarrel rose.
Joe. Was th' accusation mutual 1
From reports
Uncertain, and suspicions most injurious.
The quarrel rose.
Joe. Was th' accusation mutual 1
English (Robert Potter, 1788) (OCR draft) Experimental (English (Robert Potter, 1788)) — 144 focus
Creon
Harsh art thou e'en in yielding; when thy rage
Works its fell purpose, dreadful: souls like thine
Justly bring keenest tortures on themselves.
675
Harsh art thou e'en in yielding; when thy rage
Works its fell purpose, dreadful: souls like thine
Justly bring keenest tortures on themselves.
675
English (Sir Richard Jebb, 1904) (OCR draft) Experimental (English (Sir Richard Jebb, 1904)) — 151-215 focus
The chorus of Theban elders enters.
159
Chorus
in holy fear of you, wondering what debt you will extract from me, perhaps unknown before, perhaps renewed with the revolving years. Tell me, immortal Voice, child of golden Hope.
155
in holy fear of you, wondering what debt you will extract from me, perhaps unknown before, perhaps renewed with the revolving years. Tell me, immortal Voice, child of golden Hope.
155
Chorus
First I call on you, daughter of Zeus, immortal Athena,
and on your sister, Artemis, guardian of our earth, who sits on her glorious throne above the circle of our market-place, and on far-shooting Apollo: oh shine forth for me, my three-fold help against death!
160
If ever before you drove a fiery pest from our borders to stop ruin rushing upon our city, come now also!
165
First I call on you, daughter of Zeus, immortal Athena,
and on your sister, Artemis, guardian of our earth, who sits on her glorious throne above the circle of our market-place, and on far-shooting Apollo: oh shine forth for me, my three-fold help against death!
160
If ever before you drove a fiery pest from our borders to stop ruin rushing upon our city, come now also!
165
Chorus
Alas, countless are the sorrows I bear.
A plague is on all our people, and thought can find no weapon for defense. The fruits of the glorious earth do not grow; by no birth of offspring do women surmount the pangs in which they shriek.
170
You can see life after life speed away, like a bird on the wing, swifter than irresistible fire, to the shore of the western god.
175
Alas, countless are the sorrows I bear.
A plague is on all our people, and thought can find no weapon for defense. The fruits of the glorious earth do not grow; by no birth of offspring do women surmount the pangs in which they shriek.
170
You can see life after life speed away, like a bird on the wing, swifter than irresistible fire, to the shore of the western god.
175
Chorus
With such deaths, past numbering, the city perishes.
Unpitied, her children lie on the ground, spreading pestilence, with no one to mourn them. Meanwhile young wives and grey-haired mothers raise a wail at the steps of the altars, some here, some there,
180
and groan in supplication for their terrible woes. The prayers to the Healer ring clear, and with them the voice of lamentation. For which things, golden daughter of Zeus, send us the bright face of comfort.
185
With such deaths, past numbering, the city perishes.
Unpitied, her children lie on the ground, spreading pestilence, with no one to mourn them. Meanwhile young wives and grey-haired mothers raise a wail at the steps of the altars, some here, some there,
180
and groan in supplication for their terrible woes. The prayers to the Healer ring clear, and with them the voice of lamentation. For which things, golden daughter of Zeus, send us the bright face of comfort.
185
Chorus
Grant that the fierce god of death, who now without the bronze of shields, though among cries like those of battle, wraps me in the flames of his onset, may turn his back in speedy flight from our land, borne by a favorable wind to the great chamber of Amphitrite,
190
or to the Thracian waves, those waters where none find haven. For if night leaves anything undone in the working of destruction, day follows to accomplish it. You who wield the
195
powers of fiery lightning, Zeus our father, slay him beneath your thunder-bolt.
200
Grant that the fierce god of death, who now without the bronze of shields, though among cries like those of battle, wraps me in the flames of his onset, may turn his back in speedy flight from our land, borne by a favorable wind to the great chamber of Amphitrite,
190
or to the Thracian waves, those waters where none find haven. For if night leaves anything undone in the working of destruction, day follows to accomplish it. You who wield the
195
powers of fiery lightning, Zeus our father, slay him beneath your thunder-bolt.
200
Chorus
Lycean Lord, would that the shafts from your bent bow’s string of woven gold might
go forth in their might, our champions in the face of the foe, and the flashing fires of Artemis too, with which she darts through the Lycian hills. I call him whose locks are bound with gold,
205
who is named with the name of this land, ruddy Bacchus to whom Bacchants cry, to draw near with the blaze of his shining torch,
210
our ally against the god unhonored among the gods.
215
Lycean Lord, would that the shafts from your bent bow’s string of woven gold might
go forth in their might, our champions in the face of the foe, and the flashing fires of Artemis too, with which she darts through the Lycian hills. I call him whose locks are bound with gold,
205
who is named with the name of this land, ruddy Bacchus to whom Bacchants cry, to draw near with the blaze of his shining torch,
210
our ally against the god unhonored among the gods.
215