Oedipus A Tragedy |
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| 6. | SCENE VI. |
 | Oedipus |  |
SCENE VI.
JOCASTA, EGINA, HIGH PRIEST, CHORUS.HIGH PRIEST.
Inhabitants of Thebes! A happy calm
Succeeds these tempests; a serener sun
Beams o'er your heads; the pestilential fires
No longer blaze; the yawning tombs are closed;
Death flies; and heaven and earth's almighty sire
Proclaims his goodness by the voice of thunder.
[Thunder and lightning.
JOCASTA.
Why dart these flashes round me! Heaven! where am I?
What do I hear?—Barbarians—
HIGH PRIEST.
It is done.
The gods are now appeased; Laius restrains
His enmity, nor from the realms of death
Stirs up revenge against thee; to possess
The throne, to live he suffers thee, the blood
Of Oedipus hath satisfied his wrath.
CHORUS.
Immortal powers!
JOCASTA.
Oh, my devoted son!
Alas! and can I, dare I say my husband!
Sad, dreadful union of these dearest names!
Is he then dead?
HIGH PRIEST.
He lives; but by that fate
Which still oppresses him, divided seems
Both from the dead and living; his own hands,
88
I saw him thrust into his eyes the sword
Which with his father's blood was erst imbrued;
He hath fulfill'd his melancholy lot.
This destined hour gives the first sign to Thebes
Of health and safety; thus the gods decree;
Their anger rests in peace; they, at their will,
Justice or mercy deal to man below.
They have exhausted all their store of arrows
On thy unhappy son. Live thou, Jocasta—
Thee they forgive.
JOCASTA.
I punish then myself.
[Stabs herself.
O'er-rul'd by some dire power; foredoom'd to incest;
Death is my utmost wish, the only god
To be invoked by me. Laius, receive
My offered blood! Thy manes I pursue
To the dark regions of the dead; my life
Hath been to virtue sacred, and I die
Without a conscious fear.
CHORUS.
Oh, hapless queen!
Oh, destiny, which strikes my soul with horror!
JOCASTA.
Reserve your pity for my son alone,
For he still treads the paths of hated life.
Priests, and you, Thebans, who were once my subjects,
Honour my funeral pile; and let your minds
Bear witness ever, that oppressed by fate,
And in the midst of its encircling horrors,
I fix'd the stain of shame upon the gods,
Whose powerful impulse forced me on to crimes.
| Oedipus | |