University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

PHILOCTETES, DIMAS.
DIMAS.
Hah! Philoctetes! What dire stroke of fate,
In this infected region, hath impell'd thee
To search out death? Comest thou to brave the rage
Of wrath divine? No mortal on this soil
Dares with adventurous footsteps rashly tread.
This climate teems with heaven-inflicted vengeance,
And in its bosom dwells devouring death.
Long time hath Thebes been doom'd a prey to horror,
And seems divided from the living world.
With speed retreat.

PHILOCTETES.
These haunts best suit the wretched.
Leave me to what my evil fate ordains;
And say, if with unpitying ire the gods,
Whelming the people, have preserv'd the queen?

DIMAS.
As yet, O prince! she lives: but the contagion
Hath roll'd its baleful venom near the throne.
Deprived each moment of some faithful friend,
Death by degrees seems stealing on to her.
But now we hope, its fury overpast,
That heaven in mercy will its arm withdraw,
Stretch'd ponderous o'er our heads. Such streams of blood,
So many deaths, may well appease its vengeance.

PHILOCTETES.
Alas! What crime could merit a correction
So dreadfully severe?

DIMAS.
Since the king's death—

PHILOCTETES.
What did'st thou say? Hah! Laius!

DIMAS.
Four years since
That hero died.

PHILOCTETES.
Is Laius then no more?
What sounds are these which thrill my listening sense!
What bland seducing hope within my soul
Awakens into life! Jocasta! Hah!
And will th'immortal powers be more propitious?
Shall Philoctetes then at length be thine?
Dead, said'st thou! By what accident, relate.

DIMAS.
Four years are now complete, since at Bœotia
For the last time thy steps by fate were guided.
Scarce had'st thou left the bosom of thy country,
Scarce bent thy way t'ward Asia, when a base
Persidious stroke, an inimical hand,
Tore from his subjects their unhappy king.

PHILOCTETES.
Hah, Dimas! fell thy master by assassins?

DIMAS.

PHILOCTETES.
Tears and profoundest grief I hither bring.
Mine and the world's misfortune learn. No more
The glorious offspring of the gods, like them
Invincible, these eyes shall view. The earth
Its firm support, afflicted innocence
Its tutelary deity, hath lost.
I weep my friend, the world laments a father.

DIMAS.
Alcides dead!

PHILOCTETES.
O friend! these hapless hands
Laid on his pile the first of human beings.
Th'all-conquering arrows of the son of Jove,
Dear dreadful gifts, I bring. I bring his ashes.
And come the hero's tomb to raise, and wait
Obsequious on his altars. Had he lived,
Trust me, had heaven, less anxious to receive him,
Still bless'd mankind with such transcendent worth,
Far from Jocasta had my days been spent;
And had my passion in my breast revived,
Guided by love you would not have beheld me
A woman's slave, a traitor to Alcides.

DIMAS.
Long time with pity have I mark'd thy flame
So fervent, yet so pure; in earliest youth
It bloom'd, and grew with thy increase of years.
Jocasta, by her father forced to wed,
Shared with reluctant soul the throne of Laius.
Ah! from these nuptials, sprinkled with her tears,
The fates in secret wove our said misfortunes.
How I admire thy energy of virtue!
Thy heart, for mightiest empire justly form'd!
Victorious o'er itself! With patient voice
Love strove in vain to shake thy settled mind;
He was the tyrant who first sunk beneath thee.

PHILOCTETES.
There flight alone is conquest. Yes, I own it.
I struggled many a day, I felt my weakness,
So tore myself from this ill-omen'd place,
And to Jocasta bade farewel for ever.
The world then trembled at Alcides' name,
Waiting its fate from his impetuous valour.
In all his godlike toils I dared associate;
With the same laurel crown'd I march'd beside him.
Then my enlightened soul I first perceiv'd
Arm'd strong against the passions. To possess
A great man's friendship is the boon of heaven.
My duty and my fortune in his eyes
I read attentive. Faithfully with him
I served a long apprenticeship to virtue.
My bosom glow'd with strengthened fortitude,
Unharden'd still. By rigid honour chain'd
Under its laws.—What had I been without him?
Only the poor descendant of a king,
A vulgar prince, a slave to every passion
O'er which, by his example taught, I triumph'd.

DIMAS.
Now then, unmoved by anger or by grief,
Thy eyes again can look upon Jocasta
And her new husband.

PHILOCTETES.
Hah! New husband!

DIMAS.
OEdipus
Hath join'd his future destiny with hers.

PHILOCTETES.
He is too happy—But I cease to wonder.
For he who saved a kingdom, well deserves
So rich a prize; the powers above are just.

DIMAS.
This way he comes; by the high-priest conducted.
Th'assembled people join, to deprecate
The vengeful wrath of irritated heaven.

PHILOCTETES.
Compassion melts my soul—I feel a portion
Of their calamities. O, great Alcides,
From thy etherial height watch o'er thy country!
Benignant hear thy friend! His prayers confirm!
Be of thy fellow-citizens the God!
And let their vows ascend to thee with mine!

SCENE II.

HIGH PRIEST, CHORUS.
The Gate of the Temple opens, and discovers the High Priest with the People round him.
FIRST PERSON OF THE CHORUS.
Contagious spirits! Tyrants of this empire!
Who breathe within these walls the blast of death;
Redouble your slow violence against us!
Spare us the horror of two long a fate!

SECOND PERSON.
Strike, ye all-powerful gods! Your victims stand
Devoted. Crush us, O ye mountains! Fall
Upon our heads, ye heavens! O, Death, thy aid,
Thy dreadful aid, with fervour we implore!
O, Death, preserve us! haste, and end our days!

HIGH PRIEST.
No more—Your lamentable clamours cease:
Weak comfort to the miseries of the wretched.
Let us beneath the god who means to prove us
Submissive bend. He by a word destroys,
And by a word can save. He knows that death
Incircles these our walls. The cries of Thebes
Have mounted to his throne. But lo! the king!
Heaven will, thro' me, accost him. From his eyes
The fates will now the mystic veil withdraw.
The time is perfect. This important day
Will change the fate of him and of his people.

SCENE III.

ŒDIPUS, JOCASTA, HIGH PRIEST, EGINA, DIMAS, ARASPES, CHORUS.
OEDIPUS.
O ye, who bringing to this fane your woes,
Present your tears for offerings to the gods!
Would on myself that I could turn their vengeance!
And stifle in its latent feeds that death
Which haunts your footsteps! But in general danger,
A king is but a man, his utmost power
Can only share it with you.
Say, thou minister
[To the High Priest.
Of those immortal gods whom Thebes adores,
Do they still scorn the voice of humble prayer?
Will they relentless view our final ruin?
Are these high rulers of mankind still deaf,
And silent still?

HIGH PRIEST.
King! People! All attend!
This night before my eyes the flame of heaven
Descended on our altars. By its light
The shade of mighty Laius stalk'd around,
Horrid, and breathing dire revenge and rage,
With dreadful voice thus audibly it spake.
“Vengeance still sleeps upon my mouldering ashes;
“The murtherer of the king still lives in Thebes,
“And with contagious breath infects the climate;
“He must be known, he must be punish'd. Vengeance
“On him inflicted, gives the people safety.”

OEDIPUS.
Thebans, I own, this crime without excuse
Merits the heavy chastisement you suffer.
Laius was dear to you, and this neglect
Hath urged his sacred manes to revenge.
Such often is the lot of justest kings.
While on the earth, respect attends their laws,
Their equity is e'en to heaven exalted,
Their subjects bow to them with adoration,
No longer men, but gods. When sunk in death,
What are they then? The incense you extinguish,
Which erst was burnt before them, and as mean
And sordid interest binds the human soul,
The virtue which is past is soon forgotten.
Thus while you deprecate Heaven's vengeful rage,
The blood of Laius rises up against you.
Let us appease its cries; and shed his murderer's;
Which in the place of slaughtered hecatombs
Should smoke around his grave. With all our care
Let us the base offender seek. How strange!
Is there no witness of a monarch's death?
Of all these signs, and numerous prodigies,
Hath not one led the traces to explore
Of this unpunish'd crime? I always heard
It was a Theban who against his prince
Lifted his impious arm.
For me, O queen,
[To Jocasta.
To whom thy hands consign'd his crown, two years
After his death I mounted on his throne;
Nor from that day, respecting sacred grief,
Have I the subject of thy tears recall'd.
Thy dangers only have alarm'd my soul,
And to all other thoughts closed each access.

JOCASTA.
Prince, when the fates reserving me for you,
Snatch'd by an unforeseen and sudden stroke
My former lord, when o'er his kingdom's frontiers
The hero journeying fell beneath the hands
Of base assassins, Phorbas was the sole
Companion of his way, his firm support,
And faithful counsellor; Laius, who well knew
The zeal and wisdom of the man, with him
The weight of his imperial power divided.
Slain in his presence, he brought back to Thebes
The mangled body of his king; all pierced
With wounds himself, scarce moving his faint limbs,
Embathed in blood before my knees he fell.
“These eyes (he cried) beheld your murther'd lord;
“Ruffians unknown struck the dire blow. They left
“Me too expiring; but the Power Supreme
“To the sad remnant of my days hath given
“A new existence.” There he ceased. My heart
Impassion'd, saw the melancholy truth
Still at a distance; and perhaps incensed
At the flagitious deed, Heaven may have veil'd
Th'offender from my just revenge. Perhaps
Its own eternal purpose to fulfil,
That it might punish, made us criminal.
Soon after, o'er our fertile plains the Sphinx
Spread desolation. Its wild rage alone
Fix'd our attention. In such terrors plunged,
Hard was the talk t'avenge another's death,
When trembling for ourselves.

OEDIPUS.
This faithful subject,
Say, what became of him?

JOCASTA.
Alas! his zeal
And honest services were but ill requited.
His power too great not to incur their hate,
All were his secret enemies. With rage
Impetuous, for the favour he enjoy'd,
Nobles and people ardently desired
To see his punishment. Him they accused:
And with an universal frenzy fired,
All Thebes surrounding me, with shouts and clamours,
His death demanded. Fearful of injustice
On either side, I dreaded to condemn,
Or order his discharge. Their eager search
Best to elude, conducted secretly,
In an adjoining castle I conceal'd him.
There, melancholy proof of royal favour,
The good old man, thro' four long winters, blames not
Me, or the frantic people, but expects
His freedom from his innocence alone.

OEDIPUS.
It is enough—
Haste! Fly with utmost speed!
[To his Attendants.
Open his prison! Bring him hither strait!
Myself will question him before you all.
'Tis mine t'avenge both Laius and my people.
All must be heard, the eye must nicely scan,
To pierce the depth of this black mystery.
And you, O gods of Thebes! You gods who now
Bend listening from on high! You before whom
He stands reveal'd, Oh, punish the assassin!
Hide thy pure beams for ever from his eyes,
Enlightening sun! Let him, his children's horror,
His mother's execration, wandering wild,
Abandon'd, by the universal race
Of men proscribed, bear mingled in his soul
Each curse, each torture of th'infernal regions!
And may his blood-stain'd and unburied corse
Be doom'd a prey to fierce and ravenous vultures!

HIGH PRIEST.
In this tremendous adjuration
We all unite.

OEDIPUS.
Gods! let at length the criminal alone
Feel your vindictive blow! Or if the laws
Of your eternal justice to my arm
The care of his dread punishment resign;
If wearied with resentment stern, you cease
To persecute us still; by your command,
Give freedom to obedience! If your rage
Pursues a crime, the agent undisclosed,
Finish your destin'd work, and name the victim.
You to the hallow'd done return; go, raise
[To the People.
Your voice; again interrogate the gods.
Let the united ardour of your prayers
Force their descent. If Laius was their care,
They will avenge his ashes; and conducting
A king, himself to error prone, will mark
The place where my uplifted arm should strike.