Tiresias
408
To answer thee; this pow'r is mine; to these
I am no vassal; Phœbus is my lord :
Nor will I be enroll'd amongst those who wait
On Creon for support. I tell thee then,
410
Me since with taunts thou hast reviled as blind,
Thou hast indeed thine eyes, yet canst not see
What ills inclose thee round, nor where thou hast
Thy habitation, nor with whom thou livest.
Know'st thou who gave thee birth? Thou art a foe,
And know'st it not, to those allied to thee
415
Most closely, whom the realms beneath contain,
And who behold the light of heav'n. The curse
Of father and of mother on each side
With dreadful steps pursues thee, and ere long
Will chase thee from this land, now blest with sight,
Then blind. How will Cithæron, how each strand
420
Ere long re-echo to thy mournful cries,
When thou shalt know that, driv'n by swelling gales,
The port of marriage thou hast gain'd, thy bark
Where anchor cannot hold! The numerous train
Of other ills thou seest not which will rank
In the same line thee and thy sons alike.
425
Go to; with foul revilings Creon taunt,
And my true voice; yet thing more vile than thou
Is not 'mong mortals that shall e'er be crush'd.
Oedipus Tyrannus. Sophocles. Robert Potter (Translator). London. 1820.