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Oedipus
771
My expectation to such height is raised,
That I will tell thee: for in whom more dear
Can I, thus struggling with my fate, confide?
My father was the royal Polybus
Of Corinth; Merope, who boasts her birth
From Dorian Chiefs, my mother; in that state
775
I was esteem'd the greatest, till there chanced
A circumstance, which might my wonder claim,
But nought of anxious care: amidst a feast
One fill'd with wine reviled me as not born
The son of Corinth's king; ill brook'd I this,
780
And scarce that day restrain'd myself; the next
780
My father and my mother I address'd,
Earnest to trace the truth; the insult raised
Their high resentment, though from heat of wine
It sprung; with their affection I was pleased;
Yet still this stung my heart, so deeply there
785
It rankled. Anxious to the Pythian shrine,
My purpose not disclosed, I take my way;
To this inquiry no reply was deign'd,
And me unhonour'd Phœbus sent away;
But show'd, the fates foretelling, other ills
With woe, with horror pregnant: he declared
790
That with my mother I was doom'd to mix
Embraces, and to light produce a race
By men to be abhorr'd; nay, doom'd to be
The murderer of my father. When these words
Reach'd my affrighted ear, from Corinth wide,
795
My course thenceforth directing by the stars,
I fled, where I might ne'er behold the shame,
The infamy of these dire oracles
Fulfill'd. My way pursuing, to the place
I came, where thou hast said this monarch fell.
800
Yes, I will tell thee all the truth: as near
800
This place, where three ways meet, I held my course,
An herald, and exalted on a car
One of such form as thy description mark'd,
Met me: with force the leader of the way,
And the old Chief himself against me rush'd,
805
And drove me back; the leader, who aside
Had turn'd me, in my rage I strike: the Chief,
Soon as he saw me passing near the car,
Smote me, against my head he aim'd the blow,
He smote me twice; but from this hand received
Unequal recompense; beneath my staff
810
At once he sunk, and from his chariot roll'd.
I slew them all. Now should these kindred deeds
Prove like relation 'twixt this stranger slain
And Laius, lives there such a wretch as I?
Lives there a man so hateful to the gods?
815
Nor citizen nor stranger may henceforth
Beneath their roof receive me, none with me
Hold converse, from their houses all constrain'd
To thrust me; yet none other, but myself,
Denounced these curses on me. I pollute
The bed of him, who perish'd by these hands,
820
These blood-stain'd hands? And am I not most vile?
Am I not all defiled? If I must fly,
And exiled never, never see those friends
That are most dear to me, and never tread
My country's soil again; if I must mount
825
My mother's bed, in fated nuptials join'd;
825
If I must kill my father Polybus,
From whom my life, my nurture I received ;
Who would not judge, who would not say with truth
That some remorseless Demon wrought these woes ?
But never, never, O ye holy pow'rs
830
Of the just gods, may I behold that day!
No: from the sight of mortals let me sink,
Ere see a stain like this pollute my life.
My expectation to such height is raised,
That I will tell thee: for in whom more dear
Can I, thus struggling with my fate, confide?
My father was the royal Polybus
Of Corinth; Merope, who boasts her birth
From Dorian Chiefs, my mother; in that state
775
I was esteem'd the greatest, till there chanced
A circumstance, which might my wonder claim,
But nought of anxious care: amidst a feast
One fill'd with wine reviled me as not born
The son of Corinth's king; ill brook'd I this,
780
And scarce that day restrain'd myself; the next
780
My father and my mother I address'd,
Earnest to trace the truth; the insult raised
Their high resentment, though from heat of wine
It sprung; with their affection I was pleased;
Yet still this stung my heart, so deeply there
785
It rankled. Anxious to the Pythian shrine,
My purpose not disclosed, I take my way;
To this inquiry no reply was deign'd,
And me unhonour'd Phœbus sent away;
But show'd, the fates foretelling, other ills
With woe, with horror pregnant: he declared
790
That with my mother I was doom'd to mix
Embraces, and to light produce a race
By men to be abhorr'd; nay, doom'd to be
The murderer of my father. When these words
Reach'd my affrighted ear, from Corinth wide,
795
My course thenceforth directing by the stars,
I fled, where I might ne'er behold the shame,
The infamy of these dire oracles
Fulfill'd. My way pursuing, to the place
I came, where thou hast said this monarch fell.
Yes, I will tell thee all the truth: as near
800
This place, where three ways meet, I held my course,
An herald, and exalted on a car
One of such form as thy description mark'd,
Met me: with force the leader of the way,
And the old Chief himself against me rush'd,
805
And drove me back; the leader, who aside
Had turn'd me, in my rage I strike: the Chief,
Soon as he saw me passing near the car,
Smote me, against my head he aim'd the blow,
He smote me twice; but from this hand received
Unequal recompense; beneath my staff
810
At once he sunk, and from his chariot roll'd.
I slew them all. Now should these kindred deeds
Prove like relation 'twixt this stranger slain
And Laius, lives there such a wretch as I?
Lives there a man so hateful to the gods?
815
Nor citizen nor stranger may henceforth
Beneath their roof receive me, none with me
Hold converse, from their houses all constrain'd
To thrust me; yet none other, but myself,
Denounced these curses on me. I pollute
The bed of him, who perish'd by these hands,
820
These blood-stain'd hands? And am I not most vile?
Am I not all defiled? If I must fly,
And exiled never, never see those friends
That are most dear to me, and never tread
My country's soil again; if I must mount
825
My mother's bed, in fated nuptials join'd;
825
If I must kill my father Polybus,
From whom my life, my nurture I received ;
Who would not judge, who would not say with truth
That some remorseless Demon wrought these woes ?
But never, never, O ye holy pow'rs
830
Of the just gods, may I behold that day!
No: from the sight of mortals let me sink,
Ere see a stain like this pollute my life.
Oedipus Tyrannus. Sophocles. Robert Potter (Translator). London. 1820.