JOCASTA.

He shall come. But what further dost thou seek?

OEDIPUS.

This. If we mark him close and find him speak As thou hast, then I am lifted from my dread.

JOCASTA.

What mean'st thou? Was there something that I said...?

OEDIPUS.

Thou said'st he spoke of robbers, a great band, That slaughtered Laus' men. If still he stand To the same tale, the guilt comes not my way.

One cannot be a band. But if he say One lonely loin-girt man, then visibly This is G.o.d's finger pointing toward me.

JOCASTA.

Be sure of this. He told the story so When first he came. All they that heard him know,

[Sidenote: vv. 850-870]

Not only I. He cannot change again Now. And if change he should, O Lord of men, No change of his can make the prophecy Of Laus' death fall true. He was to die Slain by my son. So Loxias spake.... My son!

He slew no man, that poor deserted one That died.... And I will no more turn mine eyes This way nor that for all their prophecies.

OEDIPUS.

Woman, thou counsellest well. Yet let it not Escape thee. Send and have the herdsman brought.

JOCASTA.

That will I.--Come. Thou knowest I ne'er would do Nor think of aught, save thou wouldst have it so.

[JOCASTA _and_ OEDIPUS _go together into the Palace._

CHORUS.

[_They pray to be free from such great sins as they have just heard spoken of._

[_Strophe._

Toward G.o.d's great mysteries, oh, let me move Unstained till I die In speech or doing; for the Laws thereof Are holy, walkers upon ways above, Born in the far blue sky;

Their father is Olympus uncreate; No man hath made nor told Their being; neither shall Oblivion set

[Sidenote: vv. 870-893]

Sleep on their eyes, for in them lives a great Spirit and grows not old. [_Antistrophe._

[_They wonder if these sins be all due to pride and if_ CREON _has guilty ambitions;_

'Tis Pride that breeds the tyrant; drunken deep With perilous things is she, Which bring not peace: up, reeling, steep on steep She climbs, till lo, the rock-edge, and the leap To that which needs must be,

The land where the strong foot is no more strong!

Yet is there surely Pride That saves a city; G.o.d preserve it long!

I judge not. Only through all maze of wrong Be G.o.d, not man, my guide. [_Strophe._

[_Or if_ TIRESIAS _can really be a lying prophet with no fear of G.o.d; they feel that all faith in oracles and the things of G.o.d is shaken._

Is there a priest who moves amid the altars Ruthless in deed and word, Fears not the presence of his G.o.d, nor falters Lest Right at last be heard?

If such there be, oh, let some doom be given Meet for his ill-starred pride, Who will not gain his gain where Justice is, Who will not hold his lips from blasphemies, Who hurls rash hands amid the things of heaven From man's touch sanctified.

In a world where such things be, What spirit hath s.h.i.+eld or lance

[Sidenote: vv. 893-916]

To ward him secretly From the arrow that slays askance?

If honour to such things be, Why should I dance my dance?

[_Antistrophe._

I go no more with prayers and adorations To Earth's deep Heart of Stone, Nor yet the Abantes' floor, nor where the nations Kneel at Olympia's throne, Till all this dark be lightened, for the finger Of man to touch and know.

O Thou that rulest--if men rightly call Thy name on earth--O Zeus, thou Lord of all And Strength undying, let not these things linger Unknown, tossed to and fro.

For faint is the oracle, And they thrust it aside, away; And no more visible Apollo to save or slay; And the things of G.o.d, they fail As mist on the wind away.

[JOCASTA _comes out from the Palace followed by handmaids bearing incense and flowers._

JOCASTA.

Lords of the land, the ways my thought hath trod Lead me in wors.h.i.+p to these shrines of G.o.d With flowers and incense flame. So dire a storm Doth shake the King, sin, dread and every form Of grief the world knows. 'Tis the wise man's way To judge the morrow by the yester day;

[Sidenote: vv. 917-933]

Which he doth never, but gives eye and ear To all who speak, will they but speak of fear.

And seeing no word of mine hath power to heal His torment, therefore forth to thee I steal, O Slayer of the Wolf, O Lord of Light, Apollo: thou art near us, and of right Dost hold us thine: to thee in prayer I fall.

[_She kneels at the altar of Apollo Lukeios._

Oh, show us still some path that is not all Unclean; for now our captain's eyes are dim With dread, and the whole s.h.i.+p must follow him.

[_While she prays a_ STRANGER _has entered and begins to accost the Chorus._

STRANGER.

Good masters, is there one of you could bring My steps to the house of Oedipus, your King?

Or, better, to himself if that may be?

LEADER.