Oedipus Rex

Sophocles

• Verlag: Dover Publications
• Jahr: 2012
• ISBN:
  9780486110219
• Thema: Littérature
• Thema: Théâtre antique et classique

Considered by many the greatest of the classic Greek tragedies, Oedipus Rex is Sophocles' finest play and a work of extraordinary power and resonance. Aristotle considered it a masterpiece of dramatic construction and refers to it frequently in the Poetics.
In presenting the story of King Oedipus and the tragedy that ensues when he discovers he has inadvertently killed his father and married his mother, the play exhibits near-perfect harmony of character and action. Moreover, the masterly use of dramatic irony greatly intensifies the impact of the agonizing events and emotions experienced by Oedipus and the other characters in the play. Now these and many other facets of this towering tragedy may be studied and appreciated in Dover's attractive inexpensive edition of one of the great landmarks of Western drama.

Persons Represented

OEDIPUS, King of Thebes.

PRIEST of Zeus.

CREON, brother to Jocasta the Queen.

TIRESIAS, a Prophet, with the title of King.

A Messenger from Corinth.

An old Shepherd.

A Second Messenger, servant of Oedipus’ household.

JOCASTA the Queen, wife to Oedipus, formerly married to Laius, the last King.

The CHORUS is composed of Senators of Thebes.

Inhabitants of Thebes, Attendants.

A Boy leading Tiresias.

Oedipus Rex

Scene, before the Royal Palace at Thebes. Enter OEDIPUS; to him the Priest of Zeus, and Inhabitants of Thebes.

OEDIPUS Children, you modern brood of Cadmus¹ old,

What mean you, sitting in your sessions here,
High-coronalled with votive olive-boughs,
While the whole city teems with incense-smoke,
And paean hymns, and sounds of woe the while?
Deeming unmeet, my children, this to learn
From others, by the mouth of messengers,
I have myself come hither, Oedipus,
Known far and wide by name. Do thou, old man,
Since ’tis thy privilege to speak for these,
Say in what case ye stand; if of alarm,
Or satisfaction with my readiness
To afford all aid; hard-hearted must I be,
Did I not pity such petitioners.

PRIEST Great Oedipus, my country’s governor,

Thou seest our generations, who besiege
Thy altars here; some not yet strong enough
To flutter far; some priests, with weight of years
Heavy, myself of Zeus; and these, the flower
Of our young manhood; all the other folk
Sit, with like branches, in the market-place,
By the Ismenian hearth oracular²
And the twin shrines of Pallas.³ Lo, the city
Labours—thyseif art witness-over-deep
Already, powerless to uprear her head
Out of the abysses of a surge of blood;
Stricken in the budding harvest of her soil,
Stricken in her pastured herds, and barren travail
Of women; and He, the God with spear of fire,
Leaps on the city, a cruel pestilence,
And harries it; whereby the Cadmean home
Is all dispeopled, and with groan and wail
The blackness of the Grave made opulent.
Not that we count thee as the peer of Heaven,
I, nor these children, seat us at thy hearth;
But as of men found foremost in affairs,
Chances of life and shifts of Providence;
Whose coming to our Cadmean town released
The toll we paid, of a hard Sorceress,⁴
And that, without instruction or advice
Of our imparting; but of Heaven it came
Thou art named, and known, our life’s establisher.
Thee therefore, Oedipus, the mightiest head
Among us all, all we thy supplicants
Implore to find some way to succour us,
Whether thou knowest it through some voice from heaven,
Or, haply of some man; for I perceive
In men experienced that their counsels best
Find correspondence in things actual.
Haste thee, most absolute sir, be the state’s builder!
Haste thee, look to it; doth not our country now
Call thee deliverer, for thy zeal of yore?
Never let us remember of thy rule
That we stood once erectly, and then fell;
But build this city in stability!
With a fair augury didst thou shape for us
Our fortune then; like be thy prowess now!
If thou wilt rule this land (which thou art lord of),
It were a fairer lordship filled with folk
Than empty; towers and ships are nothingness,
Void of our fellow men to inhabit them.

OEDIPUS Ah my poor children, what you come to seek

Is known already—not unknown to me.
You are all sick, I know it; and in your sickness
There is not one of you so sick as I.
For in your case his own particular pain
Comes to each singly; but my heart at once
Groans for the city, and for myself, and you.
Not therefore as one taking rest in sleep
Do you uprouse me; rather deem of me
As one that wept often, and often came
By many ways through labyrinths of care;
And the one remedy that I could find
By careful seeking—I supplied it. Creon,
Menoeceus’ son, the brother of my queen,
I sent to Pytho, to Apollo’s house,
To ask him by what act or word of mine
I might redeem this city; and the hours
Already measured even with today
Make me solicitous how he has sped;
For he is longer absent than the time
Sufficient, which is strange. When he shall come,
I were a wretch did I not then do all
As the God shews.

PRIEST In happy time thou speak’st;

As these, who tell me Creon is at hand.

OEDIPUS Ah King Apollo, might he but bring grace,

Radiant in fortune, as he is in face!

PRIEST I think he comes with cheer; he would not, else,

Thus be approaching us with crown on brow,
All berries of the bay.

OEDIPUS We shall know soon;

He is within hearing.

Enter CREON, attended.

My good lord and cousin,

Son of Menoeceus,
What answer of the God have you brought home?

CREON Favourable; I mean, even what sounds ominously,

If it have issue in the way forthright,
May all end well.

OEDIPUS How runs the oracle?

I am not confident, nor prone to fear
At what you say, so far.

CREON If you desire

To hear while these stand near us, I am ready
To speak at once—or to go in with you.

OEDIPUS Speak before all! My heavy load of care

More for their sake than for my own I bear.

CREON What the God told me, that will I declare.

Phoebus our Lord gives us express command
To drive pollution, bred within this land,
Out of the country, and not cherish it
Beyond the power of healing.

OEDIPUS By what purge?

What is the tenor of your tragedy?

CREON Exile, or recompense of death for death;

Since ’tis this blood makes winter to the city.

OEDIPUS Whose fate is this he signifies?

CREON My liege,

We had a leader, once, over this land,
Called Laius—ere you held the helm of state.

OEDIPUS So I did hear; I never saw the man.

CREON The man is dead; and now, we are clearly bidden

To bring to account certain his murderers.

OEDIPUS And where on earth are they? Whe...