Delphi Complete Poetry and Plays of W. B. Yeats (Illustrated) (Delphi Poets Series)

by W. B. Yeats

  OEDIPUS. But I will start afresh and make the dark things plain. In doing right by Laius I protect myself, for whoever slew Laius might turn a hand against me. Come, my children, rise up from the altar steps; lift up these suppliant boughs and let all the children of

  Cadmus be called hither that I may search out everything and find for all happiness or misery as God wills.

  PRIEST. May Phoebus, sender of the oracle, come with it and be our saviour and deliverer!

  The Chorus enter

  What message comes to famous Thebes from the Golden House?

  What message of disaster from that sweet-throated Zeus?

  What monstrous thing our fathers saw do the seasons bring?

  Or what that no man ever saw, what new monstrous thing?

  Trembling in every limb I raise my loud importunate cry,

  And in a sacred terror wait the Delian God’s reply.

  Apollo chase the God of Death that leads no shouting men,

  Bears no rattling shield and yet consumes this form with pain.

  Famine takes what the plague spares, and all the crops are lost;

  No new life fills the empty place — ghost flits after ghost

  To that God-trodden western shore, as flit benighted birds.

  Sorrow speaks to sorrow, but no comfort finds in words.

  Hurry him from the land of Thebes with a fair wind behind

  Out on to that formless deep where not a man can find

  Hold for an anchor-fluke, for all is world-enfolding sea;

  Master of the thunder-cloud, set the lightning free,

  And add the thunder-stone to that and fling them on his head,

  For death is all the fashion now, till even Death be dead.

  We call against the pallid face of this God-hated God

  The springing heel of Artemis in the hunting sandal shod,

  The tousle-headed Maenads, blown torch and drunken sound,

  The stately Lysian king himself with golden fillet crowned,

  And in his hands the golden bow and the stretched golden string,

  And Bacchus’ wine-ensanguined face that all the Maenads sing.

  OEDIPUS. You are praying, and it may be that your prayer will be answered; that if you hear my words and do my bidding you may find help out of all your trouble. This is my proclamation, children of Cadmus. Whoever among you knows by what man Laius, son of Labdacus, was killed, must tell all he knows. If he fear for himself and being guilty denounce himself, he shall be in the less danger, suffering no worse thing than banishment. If on the other hand there be one that knows that a foreigner did the deed, let him speak, and I shall give him a reward and my thanks: but if any man keep silent from fear or to screen a friend, hear all what I will do to that man. No one in this land shall speak to him, nor offer sacrifice beside him; but he shall be driven from their homes as if he himself had done the deed. And in this I am the ally of the Pythian God and of the murdered man, and I pray that the murderer’s life may, should he be so hidden and screened, drop from him and perish away, whoever he may be, whether he did the deed with others or by himself alone: and on you I lay it to make — so far as man may — these words good, for my sake, and for the God’s sake, and for the sake of this land. And even if the God had not spurred us to it, it were a wrong to leave the guilt unpurged, when one so noble, and he your King, had perished; and all have sinned that could have searched it out and did not: and now since it is I who hold the power which he held once, and have his wife for wife — she who would have borne him heirs had he but lived — I take up this cause even as I would were it that of my own father. And if there be any who do not obey me in it, I pray that the Gods send them neither harvest of the earth nor fruit of the womb; but let them be wasted by this plague, or by one more dreadful still. But may all be blessed for ever who hear my words and do my will!

  CHORUS. We do not know the murderer, and it were indeed more fitting that Phoebus, who laid the task upon us, should name the man.

  OEDIPUS. NO man can make the Gods speak against their will.

  CHORUS. Then I will say what seems the next best thing.

  OEDIPUS. If there is a third course, show it.

  CHORUS. I know that our lord Tiresias is the seer most like to our lord Phoebus, and through him we may unravel all.

  OEDIPUS. So I was advised by Creon, and twice already have I sent to bring him.

  CHORUS. If we lack his help we have nothing but vague and ancient rumours.

  OEDIPUS. What rumours are they? I would examine every story.

  CHORUS. Certain wayfarers were said to have killed the King.

  OEDIPUS. I know, I know. But who was there that saw it?

  CHORUS. If there is such a man, and terror can move him, he will not keep silence when they have told him of your curses.

  OEDIPUS. He that such a deed did not terrify will not be terrified because of a word.

  CHORUS. But there is one who shall convict him. For the blind prophet comes at last — in whom alone of all men the truth lives.

  Enter Tiresias, led by a boy

  OEDIPUS. Tiresias, master of all knowledge, whatever may be spoken, whatever is unspeakable, whatever omens of earth and sky reveal, the plague is among us, and from that plague, Great Prophet, protect us and save us. Phoebus in answer to our question says that it will not leave us till we have found the murderers of Laius, and driven them into exile or put them to death. Do you therefore neglect neither the voice of birds, nor any other sort of wisdom, but rescue yourself, rescue the State, rescue me, rescue all that are defiled by the deed. For we are in your hands, and what greater task falls to a man than to help other men with all he knows and has?

  TIRESIAS. Aye, and what worse task than to be wise and suffer for it?

  I know this well; it slipped out of mind, or I would never have come.

  OEDIPUS. What now?

  TIRESIAS. Let me go home. You will bear your burden to the end more easily, and I bear mine — if you but give me leave for that.

  OEDIPUS. Your words are strange and unkind to the State that bred you.

  TIRESIAS. I see that you, on your part, keep your lips tight shut, and therefore I have shut mine that I may come to no misfortune.

  OEDIPUS. For God’s love do not turn away — if you have knowledge.

  We suppliants implore you on our knees.

  TIRESIAS. You are fools — I will bring misfortune neither upon you nor upon myself.

  OEDIPUS. What is this? You know all and will say nothing? You are minded to betray me and Thebes?

  TIRESIAS. Why do you ask these things? You will not learn them from me.

  OEDIPUS. What! Basest of the base! You would enrage the very stones. Will you never speak out? Cannot anything touch you?

  TIRESIAS. The future will come of itself though I keep silent.

  OEDIPUS. Then seeing that come it must, you had best speak out.

  TIRESIAS. I will speak no further. Rage if you have a mind to; bring out all the fierceness that is in your heart.

  OEDIPUS. That will I. I will not spare to speak my thoughts. Listen to what I have to say. It seems to me that you have helped to plot the deed; and, short of doing it with your own hands, have done the deed yourself. Had you eyesight I would declare that you alone had done it.

  TIRESIAS. SO that is what you say? I charge you to obey the decree:

  that you yourself have made, and from this day out to speak neither to these nor to me. You are the defiler of this land.

  OEDIPUS. SO brazen in your impudence? How do you hope to escape punishment?

  TIRESIAS. I have escaped; my strength is in my truth.

  OEDIPUS. Who taught you this? You never got it by your art.

  TIRESIAS. You, because you have spurred me to speech against my will.

  OEDIPUS. What speech? Speak it again that I may learn it better.

  TIRESIAS. You are but tempting me — you understood me well.

  enough.

  OEDIPUS. NO; not
so that I can say I know it; speak it again.

  TIRESIAS. I say that you are yourself the murderer that you seek.

  OEDIPUS. You shall rue it for having spoken twice such outrageous words.

  TIRESIAS. Would you that I say more that you may be still angrier?

  OEDIPUS. Say what you will. I will not let it move me.

  TIRESIAS. I say that you are living with your next of kin in unimagined shame.

  OEDIPUS. DO you think you can say such things and never smart for:

  it?

  TIRESIAS. Yes, if there be strength in truth.

  OEDIPUS. There is; yes — for everyone but you. But not for you that are maimed in ear and in eye and in wit.

  TIRESIAS. You are but a poor wretch flinging taunts that in a little.

  while everyone shall fling at you.

  OEDIPUS. Night, endless night has covered you up so that you can neither hurt me nor any man that looks upon the sun.

  TIRESIAS. Your doom is not to fall by me. Apollo is enough: it is his business to work out your doom.

  OEDIPUS. Was it Creon that planned this or you yourself?

  TIRESIAS. Creon is not your enemy; you are your own enemy.

  OEDIPUS. Power, ability, position, you bear all burdens, and yet what envy you create! Great must that envy be if envy of my power in this town — a power put into my hands unsought — has made trusty.

  Creon, my old friend Creon, secretly long to take that power from me; if he has suborned this scheming juggler, this quack and trickster, this man with eyes for his gains and blindness in his art. Come, come, where did you prove yourself a seer? Why did you say nothing to set the townsmen free when the riddling Sphinx was here?

  Yet that riddle was not for the first-comer to read; it needed the skill of a seer. And none such had you! Neither found by help of birds, nor straight from any God. No, I came; I silenced her, I the ignorant Oedipus; it was I that found the answer in my mother-wit, untaught by any birds. And it is I that you would pluck out of my place, thinking to stand close to Creon’s throne. But you and the plotter of all this shall mourn despite your zeal to purge the land.

  Were you not an old man, you had already learnt how bold you are and learnt it to your cost.

  CHORUS. Both this man’s words and yours, Oedipus, have been said in anger. Such words cannot help us here, nor any but those that teach us to obey the oracle.

  TIRESIAS. King though you are, the right to answer when attacked belongs to both alike. I am not subject to you, but to Loxias; and therefore I shall never be Creon’s subject. And I tell you, since you have taunted me with blindness, that though you have your sight, you cannot see in what misery you stand, nor where you are living, nor with whom, unknowing what you do — for you do not know the stock you come of — you have been your own kin’s enemy be they living or be they dead. And one day a mother’s curse and father’s curse alike shall drive you from this land in dreadful haste with darkness upon those eyes. Therefore, heap your scorn on

  Creon and on my message if you have a mind to; for no one of living men shall be crushed as you shall be crushed.

  OEDIPUS. Begone this instant! Away, away! Get you from these doors!

  TIRESIAS. I had never come but that you sent for me.

  OEDIPUS. I did not know you were mad.

  TIRESIAS. I may seem mad to you, but your parents thought me sane.

  OEDIPUS. My parents! Stop! Who was my father?

  TIRESIAS. This day shall you know your birth; and it will ruin you.

  OEDIPUS. What dark words you always speak!

  TIRESIAS. But are you not most skilful in the unravelling of dark words?

  OEDIPUS. YOU mock me for that which made me great?

  TIRESIAS. It was that fortune that undid you.

  OEDIPUS. What do I care? For I delivered all this town.

  TIRESIAS. Then I will go: boy, lead me out of this.

  OEDIPUS. Yes, let him lead you. You take vexation with you.

  TIRESIAS. I will go: but first I will do my errand. For frown though you may you cannot destroy me. The man for whom you look, the man you have been threatening in all the proclamations about the death of Laius, that man is here. He seems, so far as looks go, an alien; yet he shall be found a native Theban and shall nowise be glad of that fortune. A blind man, though now he has his sight; a beggar, though now he is most rich; he shall go forth feeling the ground before him with his stick; so you go in and think on that, and if you find I am in fault say that I have no skill in prophecy.

  [Tiresias is led out by the boy. Oedipus enters the palace.

  CHORUS. The Delphian rock has spoken out, now must a wicked mind,

  Planner of things I dare not speak and of this bloody wrack,

  Pray for feet that are as fast as the four hoofs of the wind:

  Cloudy Parnassus and the Fates thunder at his back.

  That sacred crossing-place of lines upon Parnassus’ head,

  Lines that have run through North and South, and run through West and East,

  That navel of the world bids all men search the mountain wood,

  The solitary cavern, till they have found that infamous beast.

  Creon enters from the house

  CREON. Fellow-citizens, having heard that King Oedipus accuses me of dreadful things, I come in my indignation. Does he think that he has suffered wrong from me in these present troubles, or anything that could lead to wrong, whether in word or deed? How can I live under blame like that? What life would be worth having if by you here, and by my nearest friends, called a traitor through the town?

  CHORUS. He said it in anger, and not from his heart out.

  CREON. He said it was I put up the seer to speak those falsehoods.

  CHORUS. Such things were said.

  CREON. And had he his right mind saying it?

  CHORUS. I do not know — I do not know what my masters do.

  Oedipus enters.

  OEDIPUS. What brought you here? Have you a face so brazen that you come to my house — you, the proved assassin of its master — the certain robber of my crown? Come, tell me in the face of the Gods what cowardice, or folly, did you discover in me that you plotted this? Did you think that I would not see what you were at till you had crept upon me, or seeing it would not ward it off? What madness to seek a throne, having neither friends nor followers!

  CREON. NOW listen, hear my answer, and then you may with knowledge judge between us.

  OEDIPUS. YOU are plausible, but waste words now that I know you.

  CREON. Hear what I have to say. I can explain it all.

  OEDIPUS. One thing you will not explain away — that you are my enemy.

  CREON. YOU are a fool to imagine that senseless stubbornness sits well upon you.

  OEDIPUS. And you to imagine that you can wrong a kinsman and escape the penalty.

  CREON. That is justly said, I grant you; but what is this wrong that you complain of?

  OEDIPUS. Did you advise, or not, that I should send for that notorious prophet?

  CREON. And I am of the same mind still.

  OEDIPUS. HOW long is it, then, since Laius —

  CREON. What, what about him?

  OEDIPUS. Since Laius was killed by an unknown hand?

  CREON. That was many years ago.

  OEDIPUS. Was this prophet at his trade in those days?

  CREON. Yes; skilled as now and in equal honour.

  OEDIPUS. Did he ever speak of me?

  CREON. Never certainly when I was within earshot.

  OEDIPUS. And did you enquire into the murder?

  CREON. We did enquire but learnt nothing.

  OEDIPUS. And why did he not tell out his story then?

  CREON. I do not know. When I know nothing I say nothing.

  OEDIPUS. This much at least you know and can say out.

  CREON. What is that? If I know it I will say it.

  OEDIPUS. That if he had not consulted you he would never have said that it was I who killed Laius.
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  CREON. You know best what he said; but now, question for question.

  OEDIPUS. Question your fill — I cannot be proved guilty of that blood.

  CREON. Answer me then. Are you not married to my sister?

  OEDIPUS. That cannot be denied.

  CREON. And do you not rule as she does? And with a like power?

  OEDIPUS. I give her all she asks for.

  CREON. And am not I the equal of you both?

  OEDIPUS. Yes: and that is why you are so false a friend.

  CREON. Not so; reason this out as I reason it, and first weigh this:

  who would prefer to lie awake amid terrors rather than to sleep in peace, granting that his power is equal in both cases? Neither I nor any sober-minded man. You give me what I ask and let me do what I want, but were I King I would have to do things I did not want to do. Is not influence and no trouble with it better than any throne, am I such a fool as to hunger after unprofitable honours?