OEDIPUS THE KING.
Oedipus is the son of Laius, King of Thebes, and Queen Jocasta. It had been prophesied of him, before his birth, that he would kill his father and lie with his mother. To avert this, when born, he is devoted by his mother to death by exposure on a mountain. But he is saved and taken to Polybus, King of Corinth, who adopts him, and whose son he believes himself to be. Having heard of the prophecy concerning himself, he leaves Corinth to avoid its fulfilment; but on his road falls in with Laius, has a quarrel with his attendants, and kills him. He then goes to Thebes, delivers the Thebans from the Sphinx, by guessing her riddle, is rewarded with the kingdom, and marries the widowed Queen Jocasta, his own mother, who bears children to him. The gods, offended by the presence of murder and incest, send a plague on Thebes. Oedipus sends his brother-in-law, Creon, to consult the oracle at Delphi respecting the visitation. The oracle bids the Thebans expel the murderer of Laius. This leads to an inquiry after the murderer, and through successive disclosures, in the management of which the poet exerts his art, to the revelation of the dreadful secret. It is a story of overmastering fate.
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THE PLAGUE.
The plague sent by the angry gods is raging at Thebes. The people are gathered in supplication round the altars before the palace of Oedipus, who comes forth to them.
LINES 1-77.
OEDIPUS.
My children, progeny of Cadmus old,
Why in this posture do I find you here,
With wool-wreathed branches in your suppliant hands?
The city is with breath of incense filled,
Filled with sad chant, and voices of lament,
Whereof the truth to learn from other lips
Deeming not right, myself am present here,
That Oedipus, the world-renowned, am hight.
Say, reverend sir, since thee it well beseems
To speak for all, what moves this company,
Fear or desire? Know that I fain would aid
With all my power. Hard-hearted I must be
If pity for such suppliants touched me not.
THE PRIEST.
Oedipus, puissant ruler of our land,
Behold us prostrate at thy altars here,
And mark our ages; some are callow boys,
Others are priests laden with years, as I
Am priest of Zeus; others are chosen youths.
The rest, with suppliant emblems in their hands,
Sit in the mart, or at the temples twain
Of Pallas' or Ismenus' prescient hearth.
The city, as thou dost perceive, is tossed
On the o'er-mastering billows, and no more
Can lift her head above the murderous surge.
Her foodful fruits all withering in the germ,
Her flocks and herds expiring on the lea,
Her births abortive, while the fiery fiend
Of deadly pestilence has swooped on her,
Making the homes of Cadmus desolate,
And gluts dark Hades with the wail of death.
An equal of the gods, I and these youths
That here sit on this earth, account thee not;
But we account thee first of men to deal
With visitation or cross accident.
A stranger thou didst bring to us release
From tribute to that cruel songstress paid.
Advantage from our guidance thou hadst none,
'Twas by the inspiration of a god
As we believe that thou didst redeem our State.
Now, Oedipus, thou whom we all revere,
We bow before thee, and implore thy grace
To find some succour for us if thou canst
By heavenly teaching or through human aid.
In men, who by experience have been tried,
We find the happiest fruits of policy.
Come, best of men, lift up our city's head!
Look to thy own renown; thy zeal once shown
Has earned for thee a patriot saviour's name.
Let us not think of thee as of a prince
That raised us up to let us fall again;
But make our restoration firm and sure.
'Twas under happy omens that thou then
Didst succour us; what then thou wast, be now.
Our king thou art; if king thou wilt remain,
Reign o'er a peopled realm, not o'er a waste.
Naught is the bravest ship without her crew,
The strongest fort without its garrison.