Or screaming birds, on whose authority
I was to slay my father? But he is dead;
The earth has covered him; and here am I,
My sword undrawn—unless perchance my loss
Has killed him; so might I be called his slayer.
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But for those oracles about my father,
Those he has taken with him to the grave
Wherein he lies, and they are come to nothing.
IOCASTA. Did I not say long since it would be so?
OEDIPUS. You did; but I was led astray by fear.
IOCASTA. So none of this deserves another thought.
OEDIPUS. Yet how can I not fear my mother’s bed?
IOCASTA. Why should we fear, seeing that man is ruled
By chance, and there is room for no clear forethought?
No; live at random, live as best one can.
So do not fear this marriage with your mother;
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Many a man has suffered this before—
But only in his dreams. Whoever thinks
The least of this, he lives most comfortably.
OEDIPUS. Your every word I do accept, if she
That bore me did not live; but as she does—
Despite your wisdom, how can I but tremble?
IOCASTA. Yet there is comfort in your father’s death.
OEDIPUS. Great comfort, but still fear of her who lives.
CORINTHIAN. And who is this who makes you so afraid?
OEDIPUS. Merope, my man, the wife of Polybus.
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CORINTHIAN. And what in her gives cause of fear in you?
OEDIPUS. There was an awful warning from the gods.
CORINTHIAN. Can it be told, or must it be kept secret?
OEDIPUS. No secret. Once Apollo said that I
Was doomed to lie with my own mother, and
Defile my own hands with my father’s blood.
Wherefore has Corinth been, these many years,
My home no more. My fortunes have been fair.—
But it is good to see a parent’s face.
CORINTHIAN. It was for fear of this you fled the city?
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OEDIPUS. This, and the shedding of my father’s blood.
CORINTHIAN. Why then, my lord, since I am come in friendship,
I’ll rid you here and now of that misgiving.
OEDIPUS. Be sure, your recompense would be in keeping.
CORINTHIAN. It was the chief cause of my coming here
That your return might bring me some advantage.
OEDIPUS. Back to my parents I will never go.
CORINTHIAN. My son, it is clear, you know not what you do. . . .
OEDIPUS. Not know? What is this? Tell me what you mean.
CORINTHIAN. If for this reason you avoid your home.
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OEDIPUS. Fearing Apollo’s oracle may come true.
CORINTHIAN. And you incur pollution from your parents?
OEDIPUS. That is the thought that makes me live in terror.
CORINTHIAN. I tell you then, this fear of yours is idle.
OEDIPUS. How? Am I not their child, and they my parents?
CORINTHIAN. Because there’s none of Polybus in you.
OEDIPUS. How can you say so? Was he not my father?
CORINTHIAN. I am your father just as much as he!
OEDIPUS. A stranger equal to the father? How?
CORINTHIAN. Neither did he beget you, nor did I.
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OEDIPUS. Then for what reason did he call me son?
CORINTHIAN. He had you as a gift—from my own hands.
OEDIPUS. And showed such love to me? Me, not his own?
CORINTHIAN. Yes; his own childlessness so worked on him.
OEDIPUS. You, when you gave me: had you bought, or found me?
CORINTHIAN. I found you in the woods upon Cithaeron.
OEDIPUS. Why were you travelling in that neighbourhood?
CORINTHIAN. I tended flocks of sheep upon the mountain.
OEDIPUS. You were a shepherd, then, wandering for hire?
CORINTHIAN. I was, my son; but that day, your preserver.
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OEDIPUS. How so? What ailed me when you took me up?
CORINTHIAN. For that, your ankles might give evidence.
OEDIPUS. Alas! why speak of this, my life-long trouble?
CORINTHIAN. I loosed the fetters clamped upon your feet.
OEDIPUS. A pretty gift to carry from the cradle!*
CORINTHIAN. It was for this they named you Oedipus.*
OEDIPUS. Who did, my father or my mother? Tell me.
CORINTHIAN. I cannot; he knows more, from whom I had you.
OEDIPUS. It was another, not yourself, that found me?
CORINTHIAN. Yes, you were given me by another shepherd.
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OEDIPUS. Who? Do you know him? Can you name the man?
CORINTHIAN. They said that he belonged to Laius.
OEDIPUS. What—him who once was ruler here in
Thebes?
OEDIPUS. Yes, he it was for whom this man was shepherd.
OEDIPUS. And is he still alive, that I can see him?
CORINTHIAN [turning to the Chorus].
You that are native here would know that best.
OEDIPUS. Has any man of you now present here
Acquaintance with this shepherd, him he speaks of?
Has any seen him, here, or in the fields?
Speak; on this moment hangs discovery.
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CHORUS. It is, I think, the man that you have sent for,
The slave now in the country. But who should know
The truth of this more than Iocasta here?
OEDIPUS. The man he speaks of: do you think, Iocasta,
He is the one I have already summoned?
IOCASTA. What matters who he is? Pay no regard.—
The tale is idle; it is best forgotten.
OEDIPUS. It cannot be that I should have this clue
And then not find the secret of my birth.
IOCASTA. In God’s name stop, if you have any thought
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For your own life! My ruin is enough.
OEDIPUS. Be not dismayed; nothing can prove you base.
Not though I find my mother thrice a slave.*
IOCASTA. O, I beseech you, do not! Seek no more!
OEDIPUS. You cannot move me. I will know the truth.
IOCASTA. I know that what I say is for the best.
OEDIPUS. This ‘best’ of yours! I have no patience with it.
IOCASTA. O may you never learn what man you are!
OEDIPUS. Go, someone, bring the herdsman here to me,
And leave her to enjoy her pride of birth.
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IOCASTA. O man of doom! For by no other name
Can I address you now or evermore.
[Exit IOCASTA and girl
CHORUS. The Queen has fled, my lord, as if before
Some driving storm of grief. I fear that from
Her silence may break forth some great disaster.
OEDIPUS. Break forth what will! My birth, however humble,
I am resolved to find. But she, perhaps,
Is proud, as women will be; is ashamed
Of my low birth. But I do rate myself
The child of Fortune,* giver of all good,
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And I shall not be put to shame, for I
Am born of Her; the Years who are my kinsmen
Distinguished my estate, now high, now low;
So born, I could not make me someone else,
And not do all to find my parentage.
Strophe 1
CHORUS [sings]. If I have power of prophecy,
If I have judgement wise and sure, Cithaeron
(I swear by Olympus),
Thou shalt be honoured when the moon
Next is full,* as mother and foster-nurse
1090
And birth-place of Oedipus, with festival and
dancing,
For thou hast given great blessings to our King.
To Thee, Apollo, now we raise our cry:
O grant our prayer find favour in thy sight!
Antistrophe
Who is thy mother, O my son?
Is she an ageless nymph among the mountains,
That bore thee to Pan?*
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Or did Apollo father thee?
For dear to him are the pastures in the hills.
Or Hermes, who ruleth from the summit of
Kyllene?*
Or Dionysus on the mountain-tops,
Did he receive thee from thy mother’s arms,
A nymph who follows him on Helicon?*
OEDIPUS. If I, who never yet have met the man,
1110
May risk conjecture, I think I see the herdsman
Whom we have long been seeking. In his age
He well accords; and more, I recognize
Those who are with him as of my own household.
But as for knowing, you will have advantage
Of me, if you have seen the man before.
CHORUS. ’Tis he, for certain—one of Laius’ men,
One of the shepherds whom he trusted most.
Enter the THEBAN SHEPHERD
OEDIPUS. You first I ask, you who have come from
Corinth:
Is that the man you mean?
CORINTHIAN. That very man.
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OEDIPUS. Come here, my man; look at me; answer me
My questions. Were you ever Laius’ man?
THEBAN. I was; his slave—born in the house, not bought.*
OEDIPUS. What was your charge, or what your way of life?
THEBAN. Tending the sheep, the most part of my life.
OEDIPUS. And to what regions did you most resort?
THEBAN. Now it was Cithaeron, now the country round.
OEDIPUS. And was this man of your acquaintance there?
THEBAN. In what employment? Which is the man you mean?
OEDIPUS. Him yonder. Had you any dealings with
1130
him?
THEBAN. Not such that I can quickly call to mind.
CORINTHIAN. No wonder, Sir, but though he has forgotten
I can remind him. I am very sure,
He knows the time when, round about Cithaeron,
He with a double flock, and I with one,
We spent together three whole summer seasons,
From spring until the rising of Arcturus.*
Then, with the coming on of winter, I
Drove my flocks home, he his, to Laius’ folds.
Is this the truth? or am I telling lies?
1140
THEBAN. It is true, although it happened long ago.
CORINTHIAN. Then tell me: do you recollect a baby
You gave me once to bring up for my own?
THEBAN. Why this? Why are you asking me this question?
CORINTHIAN. My friend, here is the man who was that baby!
THEBAN. O, devil take you! Cannot you keep silent?
OEDIPUS. Here, Sir! This man needs no reproof from you.
Your tongue needs chastisement much more than his.
THEBAN. O best of masters, how am I offending?
OEDIPUS. Not telling of the child of whom he speaks.
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THEBAN. He? He knows nothing. He is wasting time.
OEDIPUS [threatening]. If you’ll not speak from pleasure, speak from pain.
THEBAN. No, no, I pray! Not torture an old man!
OEDIPUS. Here, someone, quickly! Twist this fellow’s arms!
THEBAN. Why, wretched man? What would you know besides?
OEDIPUS. That child: you gave it him, the one he speaks of?
THEBAN. I did. Ah God, would I had died instead!
OEDIPUS. And die you shall, unless you speak the truth.
THEBAN. And if I do, then death is still more certain.
OEDIPUS. This man, I think, is trying to delay me.
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THEBAN. Not I! I said I gave the child—just now.
OEDIPUS. And got it—where? Your own? or someone else’s?
THEBAN. No, not my own. Someone had given it me.
OEDIPUS. Who? Which of these our citizens? From what house?
THEBAN. No, I implore you, master! Do not ask!