E'en in calamities. Thou best of men,
Go on, th' afflicted city once more raise;
Go on, and prudence be thy guide. Since now
This country for thy former
generous deeds
Hails thee as her preserver, of thy reign
Let us not hold this memory, that by thee
From ruin rais'd, by sad reverse at last
We sink in ruin; but once more this state
Restore to safety; as thou gav'st us then
With happy auspices fair fortune, now
Be like thyself. More glorious wilt thou reign
O'er peopled, than o'er desolated realms:
The strong-ribb'd galley, and the rampir'd tow'r,
Their martial youth if wanting, nought avail.
my
lamented sons, for ills well known
To me you seek redress; I know that grief
Hangs heavy on you all, but most on me:
His private sufferings each bewails; but I
Mourn for the city, for myself, and you.

CEDIP. O

PR.

I want no voice to rouse me; many tears
These eyes have pour'd, with many anxious thoughts
My breast has labour'd, tracing various ways
For your relief. That, which alone could give
Hope of success, I follow'd; I have sent
Creon, whose veins are rich with royal blood,
Son of Menceceus, to the Pythian shrine
Of Phoebus, to enquire what I must do
To save this city. As I number back
The days since past, I marvel; for his stay
Exceeds just expectation. When he comes,
If I perform not what the god directs,
May I be deem'd the vilest of mankind.
Of happy presage are thy words: these youths
Shew me that Creon hither bends his steps.

DIP. Royal Apollo, may he bring success

PR.

And safety, as it brightens in his eye!

Cheerful indeed his aspect; else his head

With wreaths of laurel had not thus been crown'd. CDIP. Soon shall we know; he now may be address'd.

CEDIPUS, CREON, THEBANS.

CDIP. Son of Menaceus, to the royal blood

Allied, what answer bring'st thou from the god? CR. Of good I have to tell thee: all our ill May, if directed well, find happy end. CDIP. Relate his words distinctly; for thy speech Nor gives me confidence, nor wakes my fears. By these encircled wou'dst thou hear? I stand Ready to speak, or to retire apart.

CR.

CEDIP. Speak to them all; for dearer than my life
I prize the means to remedy their grief.

CR.

Then let me speak what from the god I heard.
The royal Phoebus gave us clear command
Hence the pollution of our realm to drive,
Now nourish'd in the bosom of the land,
Nor cherish an immedicable ill.

CDIP. What the offence? the expiation what?
CR. By exile, or by death avenging death;

CR.

For this blood desolates the suffering land. CDIP. At whose disastrous fortune doth this point? Once, ere the empire of this state was thine, Laius, O king, was sovereign lord of Thebes. DIP. This from the voice of fame hath reach'd my ears, But Laius never did mine eyes behold.

CR.

His death the god with no ambiguous voice
Commands us on his murderers to avenge.

84. See the Hippolytus of Euripides, l. 850. n.

DIP. Where are they? By what methods may be found

The faint-mark'd footsteps of this long-past guilt? CR. This country holds them, said the god. Pursuit May overtake what through neglect escapes. CDIP. Beneath some roof, or in the open fields, Or in some foreign land was Laius slain? Hence to consult the oracle he went,

CR.

And never to his royal house return'd.

CDIP. Did none return, none of his train, who saw
His death, of whom enquiry may be made?
CR. All fell, save one; who, flying wild with fear,
Of what he saw one thing alone could tell.
CDIP. Say what; for one thing, if we gain a gleam

Of hope, may lead us to discover more.

CR. That, met by ruffians, not by one man's force
He fell, but by a numerous band oppress'd.
CDIP. How should the ruffian, if not brib'd with gold
From hence, presume t' attempt this daring deed?
CR. Not unsuspected this: but 'midst our ills
None to avenge the death of Laius rose.

EDIP. What pressing ill, your monarch murder'd thus,
Restrain'd you, that enquiry was not made?
CR. The dark-descanting Sphinx from things unseen
Forc'd our attention to more instant ills.

CDIP. But I will bring them into light again

From their first cause. Of Phoebus for the dead

This zeal is worthy, worthy too of thee;

And me confederate in the same just cause
You shall behold; this country and the god

I will avenge. Not for some distant friend,

140. There is some little obscurity here. Edipus had declared his purpose to engage in this enquiry for the relief of his country, and in concurrence with the god. He now mentions an additional motive, which more nearly concerned himself; it was the common cause of royalty. The ruffian that murdered

PR.

CHOR.

But for myself, this execrable guilt

Be it my care to crush: for the same hand
That murder'd him may soon be rais'd to plunge
With the same rage the falchion in my breast;
Therefore avenging him I guard myself.

But rise, my children, from your lowly seats

With speed, and bear these suppliant branches hence.
Hither th' assembled sons of Thebes convene :

My pow'r shall be exerted; and once more
Will we, confiding in the favouring god,
Together prosper, or together fall.

Let us arise, my sons: our sovereign grants
The grace we came to ask; and may the god,
Who sent this answer from his hallow'd shrine,
Preserve us, and this wasting pest avert !

Thou oracle of Jove, what fate
From Pytho's golden shrine
Brings to th' illustrious Theban state
Thy sweet-breath'd voice divine?
My trembling heart what terror rends,
While dread suspense on thee attends,

Laius might, if he were permitted to go unpunished, murder him. By τῶν ἀπωτέρω φίλων, σε some distant friend," he points to Laius; the expression is indeed indefinite, but it was neither necessary nor proper that it should be more distinctly marked; with regard to Laius thus far Edipus had been very cold and indifferent.

156. Oracles were by the ancients ultimately referred to Jupiter. This prophetic power he gave to other deities whom he was disposed to grace: thus Eschylus, speaking of Apollo, says,

With his own sacred skill high Jove inspir'd

His raptur'd soul, and plac'd him on this throne,
The fourth prophetic god, whence now he gives
His father's oracles.

THE FURIES.

O Delian Pæan, healing pow'r !
Daughter of golden Hope, to me,
Blest voice, what now dost thou decree,
Or in time's future hour?

Daughter of heav'n's almighty lord,

Immortal Pallas, hear!

And thou, Diana, queen ador'd,

Whose tutelary care

Protects these walls, this favour'd state,
Amidst the forum 'round whose seat

Sublime encircling pillars stand!
God of the distant-wounding bow,
Apollo, hear; avert our woe,
And save the sick'ning land!

This realm when former ills opprest,
If your propitious pow'r

In mercy crush'd the baleful pest,
Outrageous to devour;

In mercy now extend your care,
For all is misery and despair,

And vain the counsels of the wise.
No fruit, no grain to ripeness grows;
The matron feels untimely throes,
The birth abortive dies.

The Shades, as birds of rapid flight,

In quick succession go,

Quick as the flames that flash through night,

To Pluto's realms below.

Th' unpeopled town beholds the dead
Wide o'er her putrid pavements spread,

Nor grac'd with tear or obsequy.