Tiresias Oh! you forsooth were taunting me but now Edipus Who would not, When but a word, which you pretend to know, Tiresias It would not. Edipus One of them at least Oh, scarce any man, methinks, Tiresias Obdurate as myself Edipus Yet one, you see, You have not heard, perchance, Tiresias Is not your King a Minister of Zeus, As you of Phoebus, and the King of Thebes Not more to be insulted or defied Than any Priest or Augur in his realm ? Tiresias Implore, denounce, and threaten as you may, You will not! Mark then how, default of your Either not knowing what you feign to know, Will not reveal - nay, might yourself have done The deed that you with some accomplice planned, Could those blind eyes have aimed the murderous hand? Tiresias — You say so! Now then, listen in your turn To that one word which, as it leaves my lips, Denounced, should be your last in Thebes to hear. For by the unerring insight of the God You question, Zeus his delegate though you be Of revelation of the murderer Whose undiscovered presence eats away Forbear, old man, forbear! And you, my King, And thus, in your blind passion of revenge, Under Apollo's mantle. Nay, let him shoot his poisoned arrows out; They fall far short of me. Tiresias Not mine, but those Edipus Your Master's? Your Master's; but assuredly not His If Memory be not false as Augury, - Or with some self whom Self would profit by Whispers of late have reached me-Creon, ha! Chorus Oh, forbear Forbear, in turn, my lord and master! Tiresias Nay, Let him, in turn, his poisoned arrows, not From Phoebus' quiver, shoot, but to recoil When, his mad Passion having passedEdipus Prerogative of human majesty, O vain That one poor mortal from his fellows takes, The men of Thebes committed to my hands, And tamper with, to ruin or to seize ! Prophet and Seer forsooth, and Soothsayer! Why, when the singing Witch contrived the noose Where was the Prophet of Apollo then? 'Twas not for one who poring purblind down Over the reeking entrail of the beast, Nor gaping to the wandering bird in air, Suborned to stand a greater at his side You, and whoever he that leagues with you, Quick to your vengeance, then; for this same day Over the field of heaven, shall be the last Edipus O Thebes, Tiresias And shall save again; As then by coming, by departing now. Enough: before the day that judges both Edipus Ay, lead him hence-home-Hades - anywhere! Tiresias Poor man! that in your inward vision blind, With other eyes and hands you feel your way Denied you here, and thrust from door to door, As though yourself the Plague you brought from Thebes; A wretch, self-branded with the double curse Of such unheard, unnatural infamy, As shall confound a son in the embrace Of her who bore him to the sire he slew! FROM EURIPIDES' "MEDEA."1 TRANSLATION OF E. P. COLERIDGE. [EURIPIDES: The last of the three Greek tragic poets; born on the island of Salamis in B.C. 480, according to popular tradition, on the day of the famous naval battle. He received instruction in physics from Anaxagoras, in rhetoric from Prodicus, and was on terms of intimate friendship with Socrates. He early devoted his attention to dramatic composition, and at the age of twenty-five obtained a prize for his first tragedy. After a successful career at Athens, he retired for unknown reasons to Magnesia in Thessaly, and thence proceeded to the court of Archelaus, king of Macedonia, where he died in B.C. 405. Of over seventy-five tragedies there have come down to us only eighteen, the best known being: "Alcestis," "Medea," "Hippolytus," Hecuba," "Andromache," "Iphigenia at Aulis," "Iphigenia among the Tauri," "Electra," "Orestes," "Bacchæ."] 66 Jason I am come at thy bidding, for e'en though thy hate for me is bitter thou shalt not fail in this small boon, but I will hear what new request thou hast to make of me, lady. Medea-Jason, I crave thy pardon for the words I spoke, and well thou mayest brook my burst of passion, for ere now we twain have shared much love. For I have reasoned with my soul and railed upon me thus: "Ah! poor heart! why am I thus distraught, why so angered 'gainst all good advice, why have I come to hate the rulers of the land, my husband too, who does the best for me he can, in wedding with a princess and rearing for my children noble brothers? Shall I not cease to fret? What possesses me, when heaven its best doth offer? Have I not my children to consider? do I forget that we are fugitives, in need of friends?" When I had thought all this, I saw how foolish I had been, how senselessly enraged. So now I do commend thee and think thee most wise in forming this connection for us; but I was mad, I who should have shared in these designs, helped on thy plans, and lent my aid to bring about the match, only too pleased to wait upon thy bride. But what we are, we are, we women, evil I will not say; wherefore thou shouldst not sink to our sorry level nor with our weapons meet our childishness. I yield and do confess that I was wrong then, but now have I come to a better mind. Come hither, my children, come, leave the house, step forth, and with me greet and bid farewell to your father, be reconciled from all past bitterness unto your friends, as now your mother is; for we have made a truce and anger is no more. 1 By permission of Geo. Bell & Sons. (2 vols., price 58. each.) |