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That from herself arose: but of these deeds
The greatest grief is wanting, for no eye
Beheld them; yet, as far as memory prompts,
Her heart-corroding sufferings thou shalt know.
Soon as the portal she had pass'd, with woes
Distracted to her nuptial bed she rush'd
Rending her hair, and entering barr'd the doors :
On Laius long since dead she calls, and makes
Sad mention of the seed announced of old,
By which he died, and left her to produce
Unhallow'd offspring, at which nature starts.
Her nuptial bed with anguish she bewail'd,
Where from her husband husbands she brought forth,
And sons from sons. How, after this, she died
I know not, for with loud laments, and pace
Impetuous in rush'd Edipus: her ills
1290
Our thoughts no more engaged, for all our eyes
1290
Were fix'd on him; he, hurrying on, demands
1290
A sword; his wife he seeks, and not his wife,
1290
His mother, and the mother of his sons.
1290
Him raving thus some evil demon shows,
What not a man there present would declare,
Where he might find her; with a dreadful cry,
As by some impulse, 'gainst the folding doors
He rush'd, and all the solid bolts beat down,
Then burst into the chamber; there he saw
His wife, but breathless now, around her neck
The wreathed cord: at this unhappy sight
Deeply he groan'd, and loosed the strangling noose.
When on the floor the wretched corse was laid,
The golden clasps, with which she was adorn'd,
He from her vestments snatch'd, then, dreadful deed!
Raised high his hand, and plunged their piercing points
Deep in his orbs of sight, exclaiming thus,
That her no more they should behold, his woes,
His horrid deeds no more; but henceforth dark
Nor see whom it beseem'd him not to see,
Nor those, with whom he should have converse, know.
Thus oft exclaiming he his eyelids raised,
And rent the orbs of sight; the bleeding balls
1295
Imbath'd his cheeks, nor ceased the gushing drops,
1295
But rain'd a show'r of black and streaming gore.
1295
This the unhappy fate of both, the woes
1295
Of wife and husband blended dreadfully.
1295
Their former happiness, with ample right
Of old call'd happiness, is now, this day,
Misfortune, lamentation, death, disgrace,
And all the names that misery ever knew.
That from herself arose: but of these deeds
The greatest grief is wanting, for no eye
Beheld them; yet, as far as memory prompts,
Her heart-corroding sufferings thou shalt know.
Soon as the portal she had pass'd, with woes
Distracted to her nuptial bed she rush'd
Rending her hair, and entering barr'd the doors :
On Laius long since dead she calls, and makes
Sad mention of the seed announced of old,
By which he died, and left her to produce
Unhallow'd offspring, at which nature starts.
Her nuptial bed with anguish she bewail'd,
Where from her husband husbands she brought forth,
And sons from sons. How, after this, she died
I know not, for with loud laments, and pace
Impetuous in rush'd Edipus: her ills
1290
Our thoughts no more engaged, for all our eyes
1290
Were fix'd on him; he, hurrying on, demands
1290
A sword; his wife he seeks, and not his wife,
1290
His mother, and the mother of his sons.
1290
Him raving thus some evil demon shows,
What not a man there present would declare,
Where he might find her; with a dreadful cry,
As by some impulse, 'gainst the folding doors
He rush'd, and all the solid bolts beat down,
Then burst into the chamber; there he saw
His wife, but breathless now, around her neck
The wreathed cord: at this unhappy sight
Deeply he groan'd, and loosed the strangling noose.
When on the floor the wretched corse was laid,
The golden clasps, with which she was adorn'd,
He from her vestments snatch'd, then, dreadful deed!
Raised high his hand, and plunged their piercing points
Deep in his orbs of sight, exclaiming thus,
That her no more they should behold, his woes,
His horrid deeds no more; but henceforth dark
Nor see whom it beseem'd him not to see,
Nor those, with whom he should have converse, know.
Thus oft exclaiming he his eyelids raised,
And rent the orbs of sight; the bleeding balls
1295
Imbath'd his cheeks, nor ceased the gushing drops,
1295
But rain'd a show'r of black and streaming gore.
1295
This the unhappy fate of both, the woes
1295
Of wife and husband blended dreadfully.
1295
Their former happiness, with ample right
Of old call'd happiness, is now, this day,
Misfortune, lamentation, death, disgrace,
And all the names that misery ever knew.
Oedipus Tyrannus. Sophocles. Robert Potter (Translator). London. 1820.