Oedipus at Colonus

OedipusAntigone, child of a blind old man, what country have we come to? Whose city is this? Who will take in the wanderer Oedipus today, with a few meager gifts? I ask for little, and I get even less than that little, and it’s enough for me. My sufferings have taught me to be content, and so have the long years that have kept me company, and, third, my own nobility. But child, if you see somewhere to sit, on common ground or by the groves of the gods, stop and settle me there, so we can find out where in the world we are. We’ve come as strangers to learn from the people of the place, and to do whatever we hear we must.

AntigonePoor father Oedipus, the towers that ring the city look, as far as my eyes can tell, a long way off. This place is sacred, it seems. It’s thick with laurel, olive and vine, and deep inside it a throng of nightingales on beating wings is singing sweetly. Rest your limbs here on this rough, unhewn rock. You’ve traveled a long road for an old man.

OedipusSit me down, then, and look after the blind man.

AntigoneAfter all this time, I hardly need to be told that.

OedipusCan you tell me, then, where we’ve stopped?

AntigoneAthens, at least, I recognize, but not this spot.

OedipusYes, every traveler on the road told us that much.

AntigoneShall I go somewhere, then, and find out what this place is?

OedipusYes, child—if anyone lives here, that is.

AntigoneOh, people live here, certainly. But I don’t think I need to go: I see a man close by us.

OedipusComing this way? Heading toward us?

AntigoneHe’s here already. Say whatever the moment calls for—here he is.

OedipusStranger, I hear from this girl, who sees for me as well as for herself, that you’ve come along, a welcome scout, to tell us what we don’t know—

StrangerBefore you ask any more, get up off that seat. You’re on ground that isn’t pure for anyone to tread.

OedipusWhat place is it? Which of the gods is it held sacred to?

StrangerIt’s not to be touched or lived on. The fearful goddesses hold it, the daughters of Earth and Darkness.

OedipusWhat is their holy name? Tell me, so I can pray to them.

StrangerThe people here would call them the Kindly Ones, who see all things. Other places prefer other names.note

OedipusThen may they receive their suppliant graciously, because I will never leave my seat in this land again.

StrangerWhat do you mean by that?

OedipusIt’s the sign of my destiny.

StrangerWell, I don’t have the nerve to move you either, not without the city’s say, until I’ve reported what I’m doing.

OedipusThen for the gods’ sake, stranger, don’t refuse me—a wanderer like this—what I’m begging you to tell me.

StrangerAsk away. You won’t be refused, not by me.

OedipusThen what is this place we’ve set foot in?

StrangerEverything I know myself, you’ll hear and understand. This whole place is sacred. Holy Poseidon owns it, and the fire-bearing god is here too, the Titan Prometheus. The spot you’re standing on is called the Bronze Threshold of this land, the bulwark of Athens. The fields round about claim the horseman Colonus here as their founder, and the people all share his name and are called after him. That’s how things stand here, stranger: honored not so much in stories as in the life we live with them.note

OedipusSo people do live in these parts?

StrangerThey certainly do, and they take their name from this god here.

OedipusDoes someone rule them, or does the say lie with the people?

StrangerThey’re ruled by the king in the city.

OedipusAnd who is he, who rules them in counsel and in strength?

StrangerHis name is Theseus, son of Aegeus, who was king before him.

OedipusCould one of you go to him with a message?

StrangerTo tell him something? Or to bring him here—for what?

OedipusSo that by giving a little help he may gain a great deal.

StrangerAnd what help can come from a man who can’t see?

OedipusThere’ll be sight in every word I speak.

StrangerDo you know what to do now, stranger, so you don’t come to grief? Since anyone can see you’re of noble birth—apart from your fortune—stay right where you appeared, while I go and tell this to the people of the district here, not in the city. They’ll decide for you whether you’re to stay or go back the way you came.

OedipusChild, has the stranger gone?

AntigoneHe’s gone, Father. You can say anything you like in peace; there’s no one near but me.

OedipusLadies of the dreadful gaze, since yours is the first seat in this land where I’ve bent my knees, don’t be unkind to Phoebus or to me. When he foretold all those evils of mine, he spoke of this as my rest after long years: when I reached my journey’s end in some country where I found a seat of the Holy Goddesses and a shelter for strangers, there I would round off my wretched life—a gain to those who took me in, by settling among them, and ruin to those who sent me off, who drove me out.note

AntigoneQuiet. Some men are coming this way, old men, to look over the place where you’re sitting.

OedipusI’ll be quiet. And you, take me off the path and hide me in the grove, until I learn what these men will say. Knowing is what makes for caution in what we do.

ChorusLook! Who was he? Where is he staying?
Where has he rushed off to, out of the way,
of all men, of all men the most brazen?
Look for him, watch for him,
search on every side!
A wanderer, a wanderer, this old man,
not one of us. Otherwise he’d never have stepped
into the untrodden grove
of these maidens no one can withstand,
whom we tremble to name,
and pass by without a look,
without a sound, without a word,
moving our lips only in reverent thought.
But now the word is someone has come
who shows no awe,
and though I scan the whole precinct
I still can’t make out
where he’s hiding from me.

OedipusHere I am, that man—for I see by sound,
as the saying goes.

ChorusOh! Oh!
Dreadful to see, dreadful to hear!

OedipusDon’t, I beg you, look on me as a lawless man.

ChorusZeus, protector, who can the old man be?

OedipusNot one whose fate you’d call
the happiest, guardians of this land.
I prove it plainly: I wouldn’t otherwise be creeping
by another’s eyes,
a grown man moored to one so slight.

ChorusAh! Were your eyes
blind from your birth? Your life’s been hard,
and long, too, as far as one can guess.
But not if I can help it
will you add these curses too.
You’re going too far, too far! So that you don’t stumble
into this grassy glade
where no voice speaks, where the bowl of water
runs together with the stream
of honeyed drink,
take good care, poor ill-fated stranger!
Move off, step back!
Keep a long road between us—/ do you hear, much-suffering wanderer?
If you have anything to say
to us in our council, step off forbidden ground,
and where all may speak,
speak; until then, hold back.

OedipusDaughter, where should my thoughts turn now?

AntigoneFather, we must act as the people here do,
giving way where we must, and listening.

OedipusThen take hold of me.

AntigoneThere, I’m holding you.

OedipusStranger, don’t let me be wronged
for trusting you and leaving my seat.

ChorusNo one, old man, will ever take you
from this resting place against your will.

OedipusFarther, then?

ChorusFarther still, keep walking.

OedipusFarther?

ChorusLead him on, girl,
farther—you can understand us.

Antigone…
Come, follow, follow me this way on your darkened feet, Father, where I lead you.

ChorusBring yourself, a stranger in a strange land,
poor man, to hate
whatever this city has learned to hate,
and to revere what it loves.

OedipusLead me, then, child,
to where we can stand on ground reverence allows,
and speak, and listen,
and not fight against necessity.

ChorusThere. Don’t move your foot outside this ledge of natural rock.

OedipusLike this?

ChorusThat’s enough, you hear.

OedipusMay I sit?

ChorusYes, sideways, on the edge
of the rock, crouching low.

AntigoneFather, leave this to me. Quietly, gently—

OedipusOh, oh, oh!

Antigonematch your step to my step,
and lean your old body
on my loving arm.

OedipusOh, no—my bitter ruin!

ChorusPoor man, now that you’re at rest,
tell us, who are you among mortals?
Who are you, led along in so much pain?
What country can I learn is yours?

OedipusStrangers,
I have no city. But don’t—

ChorusWhat are you forbidding, old man?

OedipusDon’t, don’t, don’t ask me who I am,
don’t probe or search any further.

ChorusWhat’s this?

OedipusA dreadful birth.

ChorusSpeak.

OedipusChild—oh, no—what shall I say?

ChorusWhose seed are you, stranger? Tell us—who was your father?

OedipusOh, no, what will become of me, my child?

AntigoneTell them, since you’re already at the edge.

OedipusThen I’ll speak. I can’t keep it hidden.

ChorusYou two are taking a long time—hurry!

OedipusDo you know of a son of Laius—note

ChorusOh! No, no!

Oedipusand the race of the Labdacids?

ChorusOh, Zeus!

Oedipuswretched Oedipus?

ChorusYou—you are he?

OedipusDon’t be afraid of anything I say.

ChorusOh, oh, oh!

OedipusIll-fated as I am.

ChorusOh, oh!

OedipusDaughter, what will happen now?

ChorusOut! Go far away from this land!

OedipusAnd what you promised—what will you make of that?

ChorusNo one is punished by fate
for paying back what he suffered first. One deceit
set against another deceit
pays back pain, not gratitude,
as its reward. You, get out of this seat again,
out and away from my land, go, leap clear,
before you fasten some further burden
on my city.

AntigoneStrangers,
you whose hearts know reverence, since
you couldn’t bear my old father here,
once you heard the story of the deeds
he never meant to do,
then pity me at least, poor girl, we beg you, strangers—/ me, pleading for my father, for him alone,
pleading, as I look into your eyes with eyes
that aren’t blind, as if I were someone sprung
from your own blood, that this wretched man
may meet with mercy. On you, as on a god,
we depend in our misery. Come, grant us this kindness we never hoped for.
I beg you by all you hold dear at home,
your child or wife, your goods or your god.
Search as you will, you’ll never see a mortal
who, if a god leads him on,
could get away.

ChorusBe sure of this, daughter of Oedipus: we pity you and him alike for your misfortune. But we fear what comes from the gods, and we couldn’t say anything beyond what we’ve already said to you.

ChorusOld man, I can’t help standing in deep awe of your reasoning; it wasn’t put in slight words. But it’s enough for me that the rulers of this land should judge it.

OedipusAnd where is the ruler of this country, strangers?

ChorusHe’s in the city of his fathers here. The man who saw you, who sent me here too, has gone to bring him.

OedipusDo you really think he’ll have any regard or concern for a blind man, enough to come here himself?

ChorusHe certainly will, once he hears your name.

OedipusAnd who’ll take him that word?

ChorusIt’s a long road, but travelers’ talk tends to wander far. When he hears it, he’ll be here, don’t worry. Your name, old man, has reached everyone, so that even if he’s lingering in bed, he’ll hear of you and come here fast.

OedipusWell, may he come with good fortune for his own city and for me. What good man isn’t his own friend?

AntigoneZeus! What can I say? What am I to think, Father?

OedipusWhat is it, Antigone, my child?

AntigoneI see a woman coming toward us, riding a colt from Etna. A Thessalian hat on her head shades her face from the sun. What can I say? Is it her? Isn’t it? Is my mind playing tricks? I say yes, I say no, I don’t know what to say. Oh, poor me! It’s no one else. Her eyes are shining as she comes, she’s greeting me, and it’s plain this can be no one but Ismene herself.note

OedipusWhat did you say, child?

AntigoneThat I see your daughter, my sister! You’ll know her by her voice in a moment.

IsmeneFather and sister—the two sweetest names for me to speak! How hard it was to find you, and how hard it is now, for grief, to look at you.

OedipusChild, you’ve come?

IsmeneOh, Father, how sad you are to see!

OedipusChild, you’re here?

IsmeneAnd not without hardship, for me.

OedipusTouch me, child.

IsmeneI’m touching you both at once.

OedipusOh, my own seed, my own blood!

IsmeneOh, what miserable lives!

OedipusHers and mine?

IsmeneAnd mine, unhappy me, the third.

OedipusChild, why have you come?

IsmeneBecause I was worried about you, Father.

OedipusWas it that you missed me?

IsmeneYes, and to bring you news myself, with the one servant I still had whom I could trust.

OedipusAnd your brothers—where are those young men, when there’s work to be done?

IsmeneThey are where they are. Things are terrible between them now.

OedipusOh, those two! In their nature and their way of life they’re the very image of the customs of Egypt! There the men sit at home working at the loom, while their wives go out and see to the needs of life, always. And with you two, my children: the ones who ought to be bearing this burden keep house at home like girls, while you two, in their place, labor at the troubles of my miserable life. One of you, ever since she outgrew a child’s care and came into her strength, has wandered with me always, poor girl, leading an old man—often wandering through wild woods, hungry and barefoot,

IsmeneWhat I went through, Father, searching for where you were living, I’ll pass over and leave aside. I don’t want to suffer it twice, once in the hardship and again in the telling. What I’ve come to tell you about are the troubles that beset your two ill-fated sons now. At first they were eager to leave the throne to Creon and not pollute the city, when they reflected on the ancient ruin of the family and how it gripped your unhappy house.

OedipusSo you had some hope by now that the gods would give me a thought, that one day I’d be saved?

IsmeneI do, Father, from the oracles that have come now.

OedipusWhat oracles? What has been prophesied, child?

IsmeneThat one day the people there will seek you out, dead or alive, for their own safety.

OedipusAnd who could prosper through a man like me?

IsmeneThey say their power comes to rest in you.

OedipusWhen I’m no longer anything, is that when I’m a man?

IsmeneYes, because now the gods are raising you up; before, they were destroying you.

OedipusIt’s a poor thing to raise up an old man who fell when he was young.

IsmeneStill, you should know that Creon is coming to you for this very reason—and soon, not after any long time.

OedipusTo do what, daughter? Explain it to me.

IsmeneTo settle you near the Cadmean land, so they can have you in their power, but you won’t set foot inside its borders.

OedipusAnd what good am I to them lying outside their doors?

IsmeneIf your tomb is neglected, it will weigh heavily on them.

OedipusAnyone could work that out with common sense, without a god to tell him.

IsmeneThat’s why they want to place you close to their country, and not where you’d be your own master.

OedipusWill they cover me in Theban dust, then?

IsmeneNo, Father. Your kindred blood that you shed won’t allow it.

OedipusThen they will never have me in their power.

IsmeneThen one day this will be a heavy burden for the Cadmeans.

OedipusWhen what turn of events comes about, child?

IsmeneThrough your anger, when they stand at your tomb.

OedipusAnd who did you hear all this from, child?

IsmeneFrom envoys who came from the hearth at Delphi.

OedipusAnd Phoebus really said this about me?

IsmeneSo say the men who came back to the land of Thebes.

OedipusDid either of my sons hear it?

IsmeneBoth of them alike, and they know it well.

OedipusAnd then those vilest of men heard it, and put the throne before their longing for me?

IsmeneIt pains me to hear it, but I bear it all the same.

OedipusThen may the gods never quench their fated strife, and may the outcome of this battle they’re locked in now, spears raised, come to rest with me! Then neither would the one who holds the scepter and throne now keep them, nor would the one who’s gone ever come home again. When I, their own father, was being thrust out of my country so shamefully, they didn’t stop it or stand up for me. I was sent off homeless and proclaimed an exile, for all they cared. You might say that I wanted this at the time, and that the city granted me the favor, and with reason.

ChorusYou deserve pity, Oedipus, you and these girls with you. But since what you’ve said puts you forward as this land’s savior, I want to give you some advice for your own good.

OedipusDear friend, be my sponsor, then. I’ll do everything you say.

ChorusThen perform a rite of purification to these goddesses, whose ground you came to first and trod on.

OedipusHow? Teach me, strangers.

ChorusFirst bring holy libations from a spring that never stops flowing, and draw them with clean hands.

OedipusAnd when I have this untouched water?

ChorusThere are mixing bowls there, the work of a skilled craftsman. Crown their rims and the handles on either side.

OedipusWith fresh shoots, or with woolen threads, or how?

ChorusWith wool newly shorn from a young ewe.

OedipusVery well. And after that, how am I to finish?

ChorusPour your libations standing to face the first light of dawn.

OedipusDo I pour them from these vessels you speak of?

ChorusYes, in three streams. And empty the last one completely.

OedipusWhat do I fill it with before I set it down? Tell me this too.

ChorusWater and honey. And bring no wine to it.

OedipusAnd when the dark-leaved earth has received all this?

ChorusLay three times nine sprigs of olive on it with both your hands, and pray this prayer over them.

OedipusI want to hear it. This is what matters most.

ChorusThat as we call them the Kindly Ones, so with kindly hearts they may receive the suppliant who brings salvation. Ask this yourself, or whoever does it in your place, speaking so no one can hear, and not raising your voice. Then walk away and don’t turn back. If you do this, I’ll stand by you with confidence. Otherwise, stranger, I’d fear for you.

OedipusDaughters, do you hear what these strangers who live here are saying?

AntigoneWe heard. Tell us what has to be done.

OedipusI can’t make the journey. I fall short in two ways, two afflictions: I have no strength and no sight. Let one of you two go and do this. I think one soul is enough to pay this debt, even in place of ten thousand, if it comes in goodwill. But do it quickly. Only don’t leave me alone: my body hasn’t the strength to move on its own, deserted, without someone to guide me.

IsmeneThen I’ll go and do it. But the place where I’m to find what’s needed—that’s what I want to know.

ChorusOn the far side of this grove, stranger. If you’re short of anything, there’s someone living there who will tell you.

IsmeneI’ll go there, then. Antigone, you stay here and look after Father. When it’s for our parents, even if it’s hard work, we shouldn’t keep count of the work.

ChorusIt is a terrible thing, stranger,
to wake an evil long since laid to rest.
And yet I long to learn—

OedipusWhat is it?

Chorus—of that wretched pain,
found past all remedy,
that you have lived with.

OedipusBy the welcome you gave a guest,
don’t lay open
the shameless things I’ve suffered.

ChorusThe story’s told far and wide and never dies away.
I want to hear it, stranger,
told straight.

OedipusOh, no.

ChorusBear with it, I beg you.

OedipusAh, ah.

ChorusDo as I ask; I did all you asked of me.

OedipusI bore an evil, strangers,
I bore it unwilling—/ let the god be my witness—/ and none of it was my own choice.

ChorusBut in what way?

OedipusThe city bound me, knowing nothing,
to an evil bed,
a marriage that was my ruin.

ChorusIs it true, as I hear,
that you shared your mother’s bed,
a bed with a name unspeakable?

OedipusOh, no—it is death to hear it,
stranger. And these two girls, from me—

ChorusWhat are you saying?

Oedipus—two daughters, two ruins—

ChorusZeus!

Oedipus—sprang from the labor
of the mother we share.

ChorusThen they are your children, and also—

Oedipus—yes, their own father’s sisters.

ChorusOh!

OedipusOh, yes—evils past counting,
come round again.

ChorusYou suffered—

OedipusI suffered things never to be forgotten.

ChorusYou did—

OedipusI did nothing.

ChorusHow so?

OedipusI received
a gift—and I wish, heartbroken as I am,
I had never taken it from the city
I had served.

ChorusPoor man, what then? You shed the blood—

OedipusWhat now? What do you want to learn?

Chorus—of your father?

OedipusOh, oh! You’ve struck me a second blow, wound upon wound.

ChorusYou killed—

OedipusI killed. But I have—

ChorusWhat?

Oedipus—some claim to justice.

ChorusHow so?

OedipusI’ll tell you.
The men I killed would have killed me.
Clean before the law, not knowing, I came to this.

ChorusBut look, here is our lord, Theseus son of Aegeus, come at your word on the errand he was sent for.note

TheseusI’ve heard from many people in the past about the bloody ruin of your eyes, and so I recognize you, son of Laius. And now, from what I heard on my way here, I’m sure of it. Your clothing and that afflicted face make it plain to us who you are. I pity you, ill-fated Oedipus, and I want to ask what plea you’ve come here to make to the city and to me—you and the unhappy girl at your side.

OedipusTheseus, your nobility, in a few words, has spared me the need for more than a few of my own. You’ve said who I am, what father I was born from, and what land I came from. So nothing is left for me but to say what I want, and my speech is done.

TheseusThen tell me exactly that, so I may know it.

OedipusI’ve come to give you my wretched body as a gift. It isn’t much to look at, but the gains it brings are worth more than a fine shape.

TheseusAnd what gain do you claim to bring?

OedipusIn time you’ll learn. Not now, I think.

TheseusWhen, then, will your gift be shown?

OedipusWhen I’m dead and you have buried me.

TheseusYou’re asking for the last things of life. What lies between, you either forget or count as nothing.

OedipusYes—because in that one thing all the rest is gathered up for me.

TheseusThen it’s a small favor you ask of me.

OedipusBe careful, though. This is no small struggle—no.

TheseusDo you mean between your sons and me?—

OedipusMy lord, they will want to carry me back there.

TheseusBut if they’d take you back willingly, staying in exile does you no credit either.

OedipusBut when I wanted it myself, they wouldn’t allow it.

TheseusYou foolish man, anger does no good when you’re in trouble.

OedipusRebuke me when you’ve heard me out. For now, let it be.

TheseusTell me. I shouldn’t speak without knowing.

OedipusTheseus, I’ve suffered terrible things, evil on evil.

TheseusDo you mean the old misfortune of your family?

OedipusNo, not that—every Greek talks of that.

TheseusThen what is this affliction of yours, greater than a man can bear?

OedipusHere is how things stand with me. I was driven from my own land by my own offspring, and I can never go back, because I killed my father.

TheseusThen why would they send for you, if you’re to live apart?

OedipusThe voice of the god will force them.

TheseusWhat harm do the oracles make them afraid of?

OedipusThat it is their fate to be struck down in this land.

TheseusAnd how could bitterness come between me and them?

ChorusMy lord, this man has long been making it plain that he’d fulfill these promises, and others like them, for this land.

TheseusThen who could cast away the goodwill of such a man? First, the hearth of allies in arms is always open to him among us. Then, he has come as a suppliant of the gods, and he pays no small tribute to this land and to me. I honor this, and I will never reject his favor; I will settle him in this country as a citizen. If the stranger would like to stay here, I’ll put you in charge of guarding him; or if he’d rather come with me—Oedipus, I give you the choice of which to take. I’ll go along with whatever you decide.note

OedipusZeus, grant every blessing to men like this!

TheseusSo what do you want? To come to my house?

OedipusIf it were right for me. But this is the place—

TheseusWhere you’ll do what? I won’t stand in your way.

Oedipus—where I will prevail over those who threw me out.

TheseusThat’s a great gift you speak of, in return for your coming to live with us.

OedipusYes, if what you say holds firm, and you see it through for me.

TheseusDon’t worry about me. I will never betray you.

OedipusI won’t bind you with an oath, as if you were a bad man.

TheseusWell, you’d get nothing more from an oath than from my word.

OedipusHow will you act, then?

TheseusWhat is it you fear most?

OedipusMen will come—

TheseusThese men here will see to that.

OedipusBe careful, if you leave me—

TheseusDon’t teach me what I have to do.

OedipusA man who’s afraid has to.

TheseusMy heart isn’t afraid.

OedipusYou don’t know the threats—

TheseusI know that no one is going to take you away from here against my will. Many threats have uttered many empty words in anger; but when the mind comes back to itself, the threats are gone. As for them, even if they’ve grown bold enough to talk dreadful talk about carrying you off, I know the sea between here and there will prove wide and hard to sail. Now, I urge you to take heart even without my decision, if Phoebus sent you here. Still, even when I’m not here, I know my name will guard you from harm.

And fed by heaven’s dew
the narcissus blooms in lovely clusters
day after day,
ancient crown of the two Great Goddesses,
and the crocus gleaming gold.
Nor do the sleepless springs
that feed the wandering streams of the Cephisus
ever dwindle,
but every day
he moves over the plains
of the broad-breasted earth
with his pure water,
quickening them to birth.
Nor have the dancing choirs of the Muses
turned in loathing from this place, nor has—note

—Aphrodite of the golden reins.
And there is a thing—I have never heard
of such a thing growing in the land of Asia,
nor in the great Dorian island of Pelops—/ a tree unconquered, self-renewing,
terror to the spears of enemies,
that flourishes greatest in this land:
the leaf of the gray-green olive, nurse of children.
No one, young, or living with old age,
will lay it waste and destroy it with his hand;
for the ever-watchful eye
of Zeus of the Sacred Olives looks on it,
and gray-eyed Athena.note

And I have another praise for this mother-city, the greatest,
a gift of the great god, the land’s proudest boast:
its horses, its colts, its sea.
Son of Cronus, it was you who set her
on this height of pride, lord Poseidon,
when you first fashioned, in these streets,
the bit that tames horses.
And the oar, well fitted to the rower’s hands,
leaps marvelously over the sea,
following the Nereids
with their hundred feet.note

AntigoneLand praised above all others, now it is your part to make these shining words shine out.

OedipusWhat’s happening, child?

AntigoneCreon is coming toward us, Father—and not without attendants.

OedipusDearest old men, now is the time for you to make my safety good.

ChorusTake heart, you’ll have it. Even if I’m old, the strength of this country hasn’t grown old.

CreonNoble men who dwell in this land, I can see from your eyes that my arrival has given you a sudden fright. Don’t shrink from me, and don’t let loose any harsh word. I haven’t come here meaning to use force: I’m an old man, and I know I’ve come to a city that is mighty, if any in Greece is. No, I’ve been sent, old as I am, to persuade this man to follow me to the land of the Cadmeans. It wasn’t one man who sent me; I was ordered by all the citizens, since it fell to me, as his kin, to grieve for his sufferings more than anyone in the city.

OedipusYou who will dare anything, who would make a cunning device out of any just plea—why are you trying this? Why do you want to catch me a second time in the trap where being caught would hurt me most? Before, when I was sick with the evils of my own house and it would have been a joy to be thrown out of the country, you refused me the favor I wanted. But when my rage had run its course at last, and living at home had become sweet, then you thrust me out and cast me away. This kinship of ours meant nothing at all to you then.

CreonIn this argument, do you think it’s my fortunes that suffer from your stand, or rather your own?

OedipusNothing would please me more than for you to persuade neither me nor these men here.

CreonPoor wretch, won’t you show, even with time, that you’ve grown some sense? Are you nursing a disgrace to your old age?

OedipusYou’re clever with your tongue. But I know no just man who can make a good case out of anything.

CreonSaying a lot and saying what’s to the point are two different things.

OedipusAs if what you say is brief, and to the point!

CreonNot to anyone with sense like yours.

OedipusGo away—I say it for these men as well—and stop blockading me, keeping watch on the place where I’m meant to live.

CreonI call these men to witness, not you, to the way you answer your own flesh and blood. If I ever get hold of you—

OedipusAnd who could take me by force, with these allies here?

CreonI swear you’ll have grief enough even without that.

OedipusWhat deed is there to back that threat?

CreonOf your two girls, one I’ve just now seized and sent off; the other I’ll take shortly.

OedipusOh, no.

CreonSoon you’ll have more to cry out about.

OedipusYou have my daughter?

CreonAnd this one too, before long.

OedipusOh, strangers, what will you do? Will you betray me, and not drive this godless man out of your land?

ChorusGet out, stranger, quickly. What you’re doing now isn’t just, and neither is what you’ve done before.

CreonNow’s your moment to take this girl away against her will, if she won’t come willingly.

AntigoneOh, no, poor me, where can I run? What help can I find from gods or men?

ChorusWhat are you doing, stranger?

CreonI won’t touch this man; but I will touch what’s mine.

OedipusLords of this land!

ChorusStranger, what you’re doing isn’t just.

CreonIt is just.

ChorusHow is it just?

CreonI’m taking my own.

OedipusOh, my city!

ChorusWhat are you doing, stranger? Won’t you let her go? Soon you’ll be put to the test of our hands.

CreonKeep back.

ChorusNot from you, not when this is what you intend.

CreonIf you harm me, you’ll be at war with my city.

OedipusDidn’t I tell you this would happen?

ChorusTake your hands off the girl, quickly.

CreonDon’t give orders where you have no power.

ChorusLet go, I tell you.

CreonAnd I tell you to be on your way.

ChorusCome here, come, come, people of this place!
The city is being slain, my city, by force!
Come here to me!

AntigoneThey’re dragging me away, poor me—strangers, strangers!

OedipusWhere are you, child?

AntigoneI’m being taken by force.

OedipusReach out your hands, my child!

AntigoneI can’t—I have no strength.

CreonTake her away, won’t you?

OedipusOh, my misery, my misery!

CreonWell, you’ll never walk again with these two to lean on. But since you want to defeat your own country and your own people—on whose orders I’m doing this, king though I am—then win. In time, I know, you’ll come to see that neither now nor before have you done yourself any good, defying your own flesh and blood to indulge your anger. It is your anger that always ruins you.

ChorusStop where you are, stranger.

CreonDon’t touch me, I tell you.

ChorusI won’t let you go, not when you’ve robbed me of these girls.

CreonThen you’ll soon be handing my city a bigger prize to seize. I won’t lay hands on these two alone.

ChorusWhy, what will you turn to?

CreonThis man. I’ll seize him and take him away.

ChorusThat’s a dreadful thing you’re saying.

CreonIt will be done, here and now.

ChorusUnless the man who rules this land stops you.

OedipusShameless voice! Will you actually lay hands on me?

CreonBe silent, I tell you.

OedipusNo—may these goddesses not make me speechless until I’ve spoken this curse! You, vilest of men, have torn away the one helpless eye I had left, besides the eyes I lost before, and you’re gone with it by force. For this, may Helios, the Sun, the god who sees all things, give you yourself and your whole family a life like mine, to grow old in as I have.

CreonDo you see this, people of this land?

OedipusThey see me and they see you, and they understand: I’ve been wronged in deeds, and I defend myself with words.

CreonI won’t hold back my anger. I’ll take him by force, even if I’m alone and slow with age.

OedipusOh, my misery!

ChorusWhat arrogance you came here with, stranger, if you think you’ll carry this out!

CreonI do.

ChorusThen I’ll no longer count this a city.

CreonWith justice on his side, you know, even a small man beats a great one.

OedipusDo you hear the way he talks?

ChorusTalk he’ll never make good.

CreonZeus may know that. You don’t.

ChorusIsn’t this outrage?

CreonOutrage, yes, but you’ll have to put up with it.

ChorusHelp, all you people! Help, first men of the land!
Come quickly, come!
They’re crossing over, they’re getting away!

TheseusWhat’s this shouting? What’s going on? What fear made you stop me at the altar, as I was sacrificing oxen to the god of the sea, the guardian of this Colonus? Tell me, so I know the whole of it. That’s why I’ve rushed here, faster than my feet would like.

OedipusDearest friend, I know your voice. I’ve just been terribly wronged by this man.

TheseusWronged how? And who has hurt you? Tell me.

OedipusCreon here, the man you see, has torn my children away from me, the only pair I had, and gone.

TheseusWhat are you saying?

OedipusYou’ve heard what’s been done to me.

TheseusThen won’t one of my attendants go to the altars there as fast as he can? Make all the people, on foot and on horseback, leave the sacrifice and race at full gallop to the place where the two highways that travelers use come together. The girls mustn’t get past, and I mustn’t become a laughingstock to this stranger, overpowered by force. Go, as I’ve ordered, and quickly. As for this man, if I’d come in the anger he deserves, he wouldn’t have left my hands unhurt. But as it is, he’ll be dealt with by the very laws he brought in with him, and by no others.

ChorusYou see where you’ve ended up, stranger? To judge by where you come from you seem a just man, but you’re caught doing wrong.

CreonI didn’t do this, son of Aegeus, because I thought this city lacked men, or lacked counsel, as you say. I did it because I knew that no zeal for my kin would ever take hold of your people so strongly that they would keep them against my will. And I knew they would never take in a man who had killed his father, an impure man, a man found living in an unholy marriage and fathering children by it. I knew they had the Areopagus here in their land, the wise Hill of Ares, which doesn’t allow wanderers like that to live in the same city with them.note

OedipusShameless arrogance! Whom do you think you’re insulting with this, me, an old man, or yourself? You’ve let pour from your mouth the killing, the marriage, the disasters that I bore, poor wretch, against my will. That was how the gods wanted it, angry, perhaps, with my family long ago. In myself you couldn’t find any sin to reproach me with, for which I might have done these wrongs against myself and my own.

ChorusThis stranger is a good man, my lord. His misfortunes are devastating, and they deserve our help.

TheseusEnough talk. The men who did it are hurrying away, and we who suffered it are standing still.

CreonThen what do you order a man with no strength to do?

TheseusTo lead the way there, with me as your escort, so that if you’re holding the girls somewhere around here, you can show them to me yourself. But if your men are fleeing with them in their grip, we needn’t trouble. Others are on the chase, and those men will never escape this land to thank their gods for it. Go on, lead. And understand that you have taken and are taken: fortune has caught you as you hunted. What’s won by unjust trickery isn’t kept.

CreonWhile you’re here, you’ll say nothing I’ll object to. But at home, I too will know what I have to do.

TheseusThreaten as you go, then. And you, Oedipus, stay here at your ease, and rest assured: unless I die first, I won’t stop until I’ve put your children back in your hands.

OedipusBlessings on you, Theseus, for your nobility and for the just care you’ve taken of us.

ChorusOh, to be where the enemy
soon will wheel and turn
and join in the bronze-voiced clash of Ares,
by the Pythian shore
or the torch-lit shore,
where the Two Queens tend their holy rites
for mortals,
rites whose golden key
is laid on the tongues
of their ministers, the Eumolpidae.
There, I think, Theseus,
who rouses the battle,
and the two maiden sisters,
still unharmed,
will soon meet
in a war-cry that’s all the help they need,
here within our borders.note

Or perhaps they’re nearing the pastures
west of the snowy rock
of Oea,
fleeing on colts
or in racing chariots.
He’ll be caught! Terrible is the Ares of our people,
terrible the strength of Theseus’ men.
Every bridle flashes,
every horseman charges,
reins slack on the bits,
all who honor Athena of the horses
and the sea god who holds the earth,
Rhea’s dear son.note

Are they fighting, or about to?
My mind
foretells that soon they’ll be given back to us,
the girls who have endured terrible things,
met terrible suffering at their own kinsman’s hands.
Zeus is bringing, bringing something to pass this very day.
I am a prophet of a fight well won.
If only I were a dove, swift and strong as the storm wind,
to reach a cloud high in the air
and lift my eyes above the struggle!

Zeus, ruler of all the gods,
all-seeing Zeus,
grant to the guardians of this land
the strength of victory
to bring off the ambush that takes its prey,
and you too, his holy child, Pallas Athena.
And Apollo the hunter
and his sister, who follows
the dappled, swift-footed deer:
I pray they come, a double help,
to this land and its people.
Wandering stranger, you won’t say
your lookout is a false prophet.
I see the girls,
coming close again with an escort.

OedipusWhere? Where? What are you saying? What did you say?

AntigoneFather, oh Father, if only some god would let you see this man, the best of men, who has brought us back here to you!

OedipusMy child, are you both here?

AntigoneYes. These hands saved us, Theseus’ hands and those of his dear companions.

OedipusCome close, children. Let your father hold you, though he never hoped you’d come back.

AntigoneYou’ll have what you ask. What you ask is what we long for.

OedipusWhere, then? Where are you?

AntigoneHere, we’re both coming near.

OedipusMy dearest young shoots!

AntigoneTo a father, all his own are dear.

OedipusMy staffs to lean on!

AntigoneIll-fated staffs of an ill-fated man.

OedipusI have what I love most. If I died now, I wouldn’t be utterly wretched, with you two standing beside me. Press close against my sides, children, one on each side; grow close to the man who gave you life, and give me rest from the lonely, miserable wandering I had before. And tell me what happened, as briefly as you can. For girls your age, a short account is enough.

AntigoneHere’s the man who saved us. You should hear it from him, Father, since the deed is his. That way my part will be short.

OedipusStranger, don’t be surprised if I go on and on to my children, now that they’ve appeared beyond all hope. I know that this joy in them has come to me from no one else. You saved them, no other mortal. May the gods give you what I wish for you, you and this land, since among you alone of all mankind I have found reverence, fairness and tongues that do not lie.

TheseusI’m not surprised if you went on rather long in your joy at these children, nor if you took their words before mine. None of that weighs on me. We aren’t as eager to make our lives glorious with words as with deeds.

OedipusWhat is it, son of Aegeus? Tell me. I know nothing myself of what you’re asking about.

TheseusThey tell me a man, not from your city but a kinsman of yours, has somehow thrown himself down at the altar of Poseidon, where I was sacrificing when I set out here, and is sitting there.

OedipusFrom where? What does he want, sitting there as a suppliant?

TheseusI don’t know, except one thing. He’s asking you, so they say, for a few words, nothing much.

OedipusWhat sort of words? Sitting at that altar is no small request.

TheseusThey say he asks only to come and talk with you, and then to go back safely from his journey here.

OedipusWho could it be, sitting there as a suppliant?

TheseusThink whether you have any kinsman in Argos who might want this from you.

OedipusDearest friend, stop there.

TheseusWhat’s wrong?

OedipusDon’t ask me—

TheseusAsk you what? Tell me.

OedipusFrom what you’ve said, I know who the suppliant is.

TheseusAnd who is he, that I should find fault with him?

OedipusMy son, my hateful son. His words would be more painful to me to hear than any man’s.

TheseusWhy? Can’t you listen without doing what you don’t want to do? Why should it hurt you to hear him?

OedipusThat voice is the most hateful sound a father could hear. Don’t force me to give in on this.

TheseusBut if his place as a suppliant compels it, consider whether you must respect the god.

AntigoneFather, listen to me, though I’m young to be advising you. Let this man here satisfy his own conscience and give the god what the god wants; and for our sake, let our brother come. Don’t worry, he won’t drag you by force from your judgment with anything he says that isn’t good for you. What harm is there in hearing words? Deeds wickedly plotted are exposed in the telling.

OedipusChild, it’s a heavy pleasure you win from me with your pleading. Well, let it be as you wish. Only, stranger, if he’s coming here, let no one ever become master of my life.

TheseusI need to hear that sort of thing once, not twice, old man. I don’t want to boast. But know that you are safe, as long as some god keeps me safe.

ChorusWhoever craves the larger share of life
and scorns a moderate span
is clinging to folly:
that’s plain to me.
For the long days lay up
many things that lie nearer to grief,
and you will look in vain for joy
once a man has fallen into more
than is his due.
But the helper comes to all alike,
when Hades’ portion appears,
with no wedding song, no lyre, no dancing:
death at the last.

In it this sufferer lives, not I alone.
As some north-facing headland,
lashed by waves, is battered by winter storms on every side,
so this man too
is battered from top to bottom
by terrible ruin breaking over him like waves,
never leaving him,
some from the setting sun,
some from the rising,
some from the noonday rays,
some from the night-dark Rhipaean mountains.note

AntigoneLook, Father, here’s the stranger coming toward us, it seems, alone, with no men with him, tears streaming from his eyes as he walks.

OedipusWho is it?

AntigoneThe one we’ve had in our minds for some time. Polynices is here.

PolynicesOh, no, what shall I do? Shall I weep first for my own troubles, sisters, or for my old father’s, now that I see them? I’ve found him in a foreign land, cast out here with you two, in clothes like these. The foul old filth has settled into them, aging along with the old man, wasting his flesh; and on his eyeless head his uncombed hair flutters in the breeze. And the food he carries, it seems, goes with all this, to feed his miserable belly. Wretch that I am, I learn all this too late.

AntigoneTell him yourself, poor brother, what you’ve come for. Many words, by giving a little pleasure, or by giving offense, or by stirring pity somehow, have given a voice to those who had none.

PolynicesThen I’ll speak out; you guide me well. First I’ll make the god himself my helper, from whose altar the lord of this land raised me up to come here, granting me the right to speak and to listen and to leave in safety. And I’ll want the same from you, strangers, and from my two sisters here, and from my father. Now, Father, I want to tell you why I’ve come. I’ve been driven out of my homeland, an exile, because I claimed the right, as the elder born, to sit on your sovereign throne.

ChorusOedipus, for the sake of the one who sent him, tell this man whatever seems right, and then send him on his way.

OedipusMen who keep this land: if it weren’t Theseus who sent him here to me, thinking it right that he should hear me speak, he would never have heard my voice. But since he’s been granted that, he’ll go, and go having heard from me things that will never gladden his life. You villain! When you held the scepter and the throne your brother now holds in Thebes, you drove out your own father, me, and made me a man without a city, and made me wear these clothes you weep to see now, now that you find yourself in the same misery as I am.

ChorusPolynices, I took no pleasure in the journeys you made before, and now go back, as fast as you can.

PolynicesOh, no—my journey, my failure! Oh, no—my comrades! What an end to the road we set out on from Argos—what misery for me! An end I can’t even speak of to any of my comrades, or turn them back from, but must meet this fate in silence. You, his daughters, my sisters, you’ve heard the hard curses our father is calling down. For the gods’ sake, you two at least: if his curses are fulfilled and you ever find your way home, don’t dishonor me. Lay me in a grave, and give me the rites of the dead.

AntigonePolynices, I beg you, listen to me in one thing.

PolynicesAntigone, my dearest, what is it? Tell me.

AntigoneTurn your army back to Argos, as quickly as you can, and don’t destroy yourself and the city.

PolynicesThat’s impossible. How could I ever lead the same army out again, once I’d shown I was afraid?

AntigoneBut why must you rage all over again, my dear? What do you gain by tearing down your own country?

PolynicesRunning away is shameful—and so is being laughed at like this by my brother, when I’m the elder.

AntigoneThen don’t you see you’re carrying his prophecies straight to their fulfillment? He foretells death for you both, each at the other’s hand.

PolynicesYes, because that’s what he wants. But I can’t give way.

AntigoneOh, no, poor me! But who will dare to follow you once they hear what this man has prophesied?

PolynicesWe won’t report bad news. A good general tells the better side, not what’s lacking.

AntigoneSo you’ve really made up your mind, my dear?

PolynicesYes, and don’t hold me back. This road will be my concern, doomed and evil as my father here and his Furies have made it. But may Zeus be good to you two, if you do this for me when I’m dead, since you’ll never do anything for me alive again. Now let me go, and goodbye. You’ll never see me alive again.

AntigoneOh, I’m so wretched.

PolynicesDon’t mourn for me.

AntigoneAnd who wouldn’t grieve for you, brother, when you’re rushing into a death you can see in front of you?

PolynicesIf I must, I’ll die.

AntigoneNo, don’t! Listen to me.

PolynicesDon’t urge me to do what I mustn’t.

AntigoneThen I’m utterly wretched, if I lose you.

PolynicesThat lies with fate, whether it turns out this way or another. As for you two, I pray to the gods you never meet with harm. In everyone’s eyes, you don’t deserve misfortune.

ChorusNew troubles, newly come,
have reached me, heavy with doom,
from the blind stranger—
unless it is fate that is finding its mark.
For I cannot say that any decree of the gods is ever in vain.
Time watches, watches these things forever,
casting some down,
and on the next day raising others up again.
The sky has thundered. Zeus!

OedipusChildren, children, is there anyone from this place nearby who could bring Theseus here, the best of men in every way?

AntigoneFather, why are you calling for him?

OedipusThis winged thunder of Zeus will soon lead me down to Hades. Send for him—quickly!

ChorusLook, look—here it crashes down,
huge, unspeakable, the thunder hurled by Zeus!
Terror has crept
to the very ends of my hair.
My heart cowers:
the lightning blazes from the sky again.
What end will it let loose? I’m afraid:
it never rushes out for nothing,
never without disaster.
Great sky! Zeus!

OedipusChildren, the end of life foretold for the man before you has come, and there’s no turning it away now.

AntigoneHow do you know? What sign made you put this together?

OedipusI know it well. But someone go, as quickly as you can, and bring me the king of this land.

ChorusAh, ah! Look, again it rings all around us,
that piercing roar!
Be gracious, god, be gracious,
if you are bringing something without light
to the earth, our mother.
May I find you kindly,
and not, because I have looked on a man accursed,
somehow share in a reward that brings no gain.
Lord Zeus, to you I cry!

OedipusIs the man near? Children, will he find me still alive, and my mind still clear?

AntigoneWhat pledge do you want to plant in his mind?

OedipusIn return for the kindness they’ve shown me, I want to give them the favor I promised when I received it, and bring it to fulfillment.

ChorusOh, oh, son! Come, come!
Even if at the far end of the glen
you are hallowing the altar
with sacrifice of oxen
to Poseidon, god of the sea,
come!
For the stranger thinks it right
to give you, your city, and your people
a just return for the kindness he received.
Hurry, my lord!

TheseusWhat’s this shout ringing out from all of you again—clear from your citizens, plain from the stranger? Was it a thunderbolt from Zeus, or a storm of hail bursting down? When a god is storming like this, you can imagine anything.

OedipusYou’ve come just when I longed for you. Some god has given you good fortune on this journey.

TheseusSon of Laius, what’s happened now that’s new?

OedipusThe scale of my life has tipped. And I want to die without breaking my promises to you and to this city.

TheseusWhat sign has convinced you that your death is near?

OedipusThe gods themselves are my heralds and bring me the news. They falsify none of the signs foretold to me.

TheseusHow do you mean, old man, that these things are being shown to you?

OedipusThe thunder that rolls on and on, and the many bolts of lightning flung by that unconquerable hand.

TheseusYou’ve convinced me. I see you’ve prophesied a great deal, and nothing false. Tell me what has to be done.

OedipusI’ll teach you, son of Aegeus, what will lie in store for this city, a treasure that age will never harm. I myself, with no guide’s hand to touch me, will lead the way to the place where I must die. Never tell anyone about it, neither where it’s hidden nor in what region it lies, so that it may always be your defense, better than many shields or the spear of allies brought in from your neighbors. The things too sacred to be stirred by speech you’ll learn for yourself, when you come there alone.

ChorusIf it is right for me to honor with prayers
the unseen goddess,
and you, lord of those who dwell in night,
Aidoneus, Aidoneus, I pray:
let the stranger come, without pain,
by no death heavy with groaning,
to the plain of the dead below that hides all
and the house of the Styx.
For many sorrows came upon him,
and for no cause;
now let a just god lift him up again.note

Goddesses of the earth below,
and you, monstrous form of the unconquered beast,
who, as the story always tells,
lie in your lair by the gates
where so many guests pass through,
and snarl from your cave,
the untamed guard at the door of Hades:
child of Earth and Tartarus,
I pray that he stand clear
of the stranger’s path
as he sets out
for the plains of the dead below.
On you I call, lord of the everlasting sleep.note

MessengerCitizens, I could put it most briefly by saying that Oedipus is dead. But what happened can’t be told in a few words, and the things done there were not few.

ChorusIs he dead, then, poor man?

MessengerKnow for certain that he has left life behind for good.

ChorusHow? Poor man—was it a heaven-sent end, and painless?

So, clinging to one another, they all sobbed and wept. When they had come to the end of their weeping and no cry rose any longer, there was silence. Then suddenly a voice called out to him, so that all of us felt our hair stand on end with sudden fear. For the god was calling him, many times, from every side: “You there, you there, Oedipus, why are we waiting to go? You’ve been holding us back too long.” And when he understood that the god was calling him, he asked for Theseus, the king of the land, to come to him.

ChorusAnd where are his daughters, and the friends who escorted him?

MessengerThey’re not far off. The sound of their weeping, clear enough, tells us they’re on their way here.

AntigoneAh, ah! Oh! Now it is ours, it is ours,
not in part but wholly,
ill-fated as we are, to mourn
the cursed blood we were born with from our father.
For him we bore our long hardship steadfastly
all the time before;
now at the last we will carry with us
things beyond all reckoning,
that we have seen and suffered.

ChorusWhat is it?

AntigoneYou can guess, friends.

ChorusHe’s gone?

AntigoneGone, just as you’d most wish.
How else, when neither war
nor sea came against him,
but the unseen plains seized him,
swept off in some hidden doom?
Poor me—a deadly night
has come down over our eyes.
For how, wandering in some far-off land
or over the waves of the sea,
will we find bread for our hard lives?

IsmeneI don’t know. Let murderous Hades
take me down to die with my old father,
poor me, since the life ahead of me
is not worth living.

ChorusBest of daughters, both of you,
bear what the god brings;
don’t let your grief burn so fiercely.
The path you’ve walked deserves no blame.

AntigoneSo there can be longing even for sorrows.
What was never dear at all was dear
while I still held him in my arms.
Father, my dear one,
wrapped forever in the darkness under the earth,
even down there you will never
be without love, from me and from her.

ChorusHe met his end—?

AntigoneHe met the end he wanted.

ChorusWhat end?

AntigoneHe died in the foreign land
he longed for; he has his bed
below, in shadow forever,
and the mourning he left is not unwept.
For this eye of mine, Father,
weeps for you, grieving, and I don’t know
how, in my misery, I am to wipe away
such sorrow for you.
Oh, no—you wanted to die on foreign soil,
but you died like this, alone, away from me.

IsmeneOh, poor me, what fate is it, then, that from now on like this
…
…
awaits me, and you, my dear,
left like this, without our father?

ChorusBut since he ended his life
in blessedness, my dears,
let this grief go. No one is beyond the reach of trouble.

AntigoneLet’s hurry back, sister.

IsmeneTo do what?

AntigoneA longing has hold of me—

IsmeneFor what?

Antigoneto see the hearth beneath the earth

IsmeneWhose?

AntigoneOur father’s—poor me!

IsmeneBut how can that be lawful? Don’t you
see?

AntigoneWhy do you reproach me like this?

IsmeneAnd this, too—that

AntigoneWhat is this, again?

Ismenehe fell without a grave, apart from everyone.

AntigoneTake me there, and then strike me down as well.

IsmeneAh, ah, poor me! Where, then,
alone like this and helpless,
am I to live out my wretched life?

ChorusMy dears, don’t be afraid.

AntigoneBut where can I escape to?

ChorusBefore this, too, it escaped—

AntigoneWhat did?

Chorusyour fortune, from falling into disaster.

AntigoneI’m thinking—

ChorusThinking what?

Antigonehow we’ll get home,
I don’t know.

ChorusDon’t even look for a way.

AntigoneTrouble has hold of me.

ChorusIt had hold of you before.

AntigoneThen it was hopeless; now it’s beyond even that.

ChorusIt’s a vast sea, then, that you two have drawn as your lot.

AntigoneYes, yes.

ChorusI say so too.

AntigoneAh, ah! Where are we to go, Zeus?
Toward what hope
is fate driving me now?

TheseusStop your lament, children.
Where the kindness of the dead below
is laid up as a blessing shared,
there should be no mourning:
it would bring down the gods’ anger.

AntigoneSon of Aegeus, we fall at your feet.

TheseusWhat do you need from me, children?

AntigoneWe want to see our father’s tomb with our own eyes.

TheseusThat isn’t permitted.

AntigoneWhat do you mean, my lord, ruler of Athens?

TheseusChildren, he forbade me
to let anyone come near this place,
or let any mortal at all
speak a word to the sacred tomb where he lies.
And he told me that if I did this rightly
I would keep my land free of pain forever.
The god heard me promise this,
and Oath, the servant of Zeus, who hears all things.

AntigoneIf this is what he wished,
it will have to be enough. But send us
to ancient Thebes, in case somehow
we can stop the slaughter
that is coming for our brothers.

TheseusI’ll do that, and all else
I can do that will serve you
and please him beneath the earth,
who has just now passed away.
I must not grow weary.

ChorusCome, stop now, and stir up
your lament no longer:
all this is settled, and stands fast.