Leader.

And now how fares he? Doth the storm abate?

Messenger.

He shouts for one to open wide the gate

And lead him forth, and to all Thebes display

His father’s murderer, his mother’s. … Nay,

Such words I will not speak. And his intent

Is set, to cast himself in banishment

Out to the wild, not walk ’mid human breed

Bearing the curse he bears. Yet sore his need

Of strength and of some guiding hand. For sure

He hath more burden now than man may endure.

But see, the gates fall back, and that appears

Which he who loathes shall pity—yea, with tears.

[Oedipus is led in, blinded and bleeding. The Old Men bow down and hide their faces; some of them weep.

Chorus.

Oh, terrible! Oh, sight of all

This life hath crossed, most terrible!

Thou man more wronged than tongue can tell.

What madness took thee? Do there crawl

Live Things of Evil from the deep

To leap on man? Oh, what a leap

Was His that flung thee to thy fall!

Leader.

O fallen, fallen in ghastly case,

I dare not raise mine eyes to thee;

Fain would I look and ask and see,

But shudder sickened from thy face.20

Oedipus.

Oh, pain; pain and woe!

Whither? Whither?

They lead me and I go;

And my voice drifts on the air

Far away.

Where, Thing of Evil, where

Endeth thy leaping hither?

Leader.

In fearful ends, which none may hear nor say.

Oedipus.

[Strophe.

Could of the dark, mine own

For ever, horrible,

Stealing, stealing, silent, unconquerable,

Cloud that no wind, no summer can dispel!

Again, again I groan,

As through my heart together crawl the strong

Stabs of this pain and memories of old wrong.

Leader.

Yea, twofold hosts of torment hast thou there,

The stain to think on and the pain to bear.

Oedipus.

[Antistrophe.

O Friend, thou mine own

Still faithful, minister

Steadfast abiding alone of them that were,

Dost bear with me and give the blind man care?

Ah me! Not all unknown

Nor hid thou art. Deep in this dark a call

Comes and I know thy voice in spite of all.

Leader.

O fearful sufferer, and could’st thou kill

Thy living orbs? What God made blind thy will?

Oedipus.

[Strophe

’Tis Apollo; all is Apollo,

O ye that love me, ’tis he long time hath planned

These things upon me evilly, evilly,

Dark things and full of blood.

I knew not; I did but follow

His way; but mine the hand

And mine the anguish. What were mine eyes to me

When naught to be seen was good?

Leader.

’Tis even so; and Truth doth speak in thee.

Oedipus.

To see, to endure, to hear words kindly spoken,

Should I have joy in such?

Out, if ye love your breath,

Cast me swift unto solitude, unbroken

By word or touch.

Am I not charged with death,

Most charged and filled to the brim

With curses? And what man saith

God hath so hated him?

Leader.

Thy bitter will, thy hard calamity,

Would I had never known nor looked on thee!

Oedipus.