John Dryden - Delphi Poets Series

by John Dryden

  Lest she repent, and hasten on thy doom.

  Adr. Think not, most abject, most abhorred of men,

  Adrastus will vouchsafe to answer thee; —

  Thebans to you I justify my love:

  I have addrest my prayer to this fair princess;

  But, if I ever meant a violence,

  Or thought to ravish, as that traitor did,

  What humblest adorations could not win,

  Brand me, you gods, blot me with foul dishonour,

  And let men curse me by the name of Creon!

  Eur. Hear me, O Thebans, if you dread the wrath

  Of her whom fate ordained to be your queen;

  Hear me, and dare not, as you prize your lives,

  To take the part of that rebellious traitor.

  By the decree of royal Œdipus,

  By queen Jocasta’s order, by what’s more,

  My own dear vows of everlasting love,

  I here resign, to prince Adrastus’ arms,

  All that the world can make me mistress of.

  Cre. O perjured woman!

  Draw all; and when I give the word, fall on. —

  Traitor, resign the princess, or this moment

  Expect, with all those most unfortunate wretches,

  Upon this spot straight to be hewn in pieces.

  Adr. No, villain, no;

  With twice those odds of men,

  I doubt not in this cause to vanquish thee. —

  Captain remember to your care I give

  My love; ten thousand, thousand times more clear,

  Than life or liberty.

  Cre. Fall on, Alcander. —

  Pyracmon you and I must wheel about

  For nobler game, the princess.

  Adr. Ah, traito2, dost thou shun me?

  Follow, follow,

  My brave companions! see, the cowards fly! [Exeunt fighting: Cruon’s Party beaten off by Adrastus.

  Enter Œdipus.

  Œdip.O, ’tis too little this; thy loss of sight,

  What has it done? I shall be gazed at now

  The more; be pointed at, There goes the monster!

  Nor have I hid my horrors from myself;

  For, though corporeal light be lost for ever,

  The bright reflecting soul, through glaring optics,

  Presents in larger size her black ideas,

  Doubling the bloody prospect of my crimes;

  Holds fancy down, and makes her act again,

  With wife and mother: — Tortures, hell and furies!

  Ha! now the baleful offspring’s brought to light!

  In horrid form, they rank themselves before me; —

  What shall I call this medley of creation?

  Here one, with all the obedience of a son,

  Borrowing Jocasta’s look, kneels at my feet,

  And calls me father; there, a sturdy boy,

  Resembling Laius just as when I killed him,

  Bears up, and with his cold hand grasping mine,

  Cries out, how fares my brother Œdipus?

  What, sons and brothers! Sisters and daughters too!

  Fly all, begone, fly from my whirling brain!

  Hence, incest, murder! hence, you ghastly figures!

  O Gods! Gods, answer; is there any mean?

  Let me go mad, or die.

  Enter Jocasta.

  Joc. Where, where is this most wretched of mankind,

  This stately image of imperial sorrow,

  Whose story told, whose very name but mentioned,

  Would cool the rage of fevers, and unlock

  The hand of lust from the pale virgin’s hair,

  And throw the ravisher before her feet?

  Œdip. By all my fears, I think Jocasta’s voice! —

  Hence fly; begone! O thou far worse than worst

  Of damning charmers! O abhorred, loathed creature!

  Fly, by the gods, or by the fiends, I charge thee,

  Far as the East, West, North, or South of heaven,

  But think not thou shalt ever enter there;

  The golden gates are barred with adamant,

  ‘Gainst thee, and me; and the celestial guards,

  Still as we rise, will dash our spirits down.

  Joc. O wretched pair! O greatly wretched we!

  Two worlds of woe!

  Œdip. Art thou not gone then? ha!

  How darest thou stand the fury of the gods?

  Or comest thou in the grave to reap new pleasures?

  Joc. Talk on, till thou mak’st mad my rolling brain;

  Groan still more death; and may those dismal sources

  Still bubble on, and pour forth blood and tears.

  Methinks, at such a meeting, heaven stands still;

  The sea, nor ebbs, nor flows; this mole-hill earth

  Is heaved no more; the busy emmets cease:

  Yet hear me on —

  Œdip. Speak, then, and blast my soul.

  Joc. O, my loved lord, though I resolve a ruin,

  To match my crimes; by all my miseries,

  ’Tis horror, worse than thousand thousand deaths,

  To send me hence without a kind farewell.

  Œdip. Gods, how she shakes me! — stay thee, O Jocasta!

  Speak something ere thou goest for ever from me!

  Joc. ’Tis woman’s weakness, that I would be pitied;

  Pardon me then, O greatest, though most wretched.

  Of all thy kind! My soul is on the brink,

  And sees the boiling furnace just beneath:

  Do not thou push me off, and I will go,

  With such a willingness, as if that heaven

  With all its glory glowed for my reception.

  Œdip. O, in my heart I feel the pangs of nature;

  It works with kindness o’er: give, give me way!

  I feel a melting here, a tenderness,

  Too mighty for the anger of the gods!

  Direct me to thy knees: yet, oh forbear,

  Lest the dead embers should revive.

  Stand off, and at just distance

  Let me groan my horrors! — here

  On the earth, here blow my utmost gale;

  Here sob my sorrows, till I burst with sighing;

  Here gasp and languish out my wounded soul.

  Joc. In spite of all those crimes the cruel gods

  Can charge me with, I know my innocence;

  Know yours. ’Tis fate alone that makes us wretched,

  For you are still my husband.

  Œdip. Swear I am,

  And I’ll believe thee; steal into thy arms,

  Renew endearments, think them no pollutions,

  But chaste as spirits’ joys. Gently I’ll come,

  Thus weeping blind, like dewy night, upon thee,

  And fold thee softly in my arms to slumber. [The Ghost of Laius ascends by degrees, pointing at Jocasta.

  Joc. Begone, my lord! Alas, what are we doing?

  Fly from my arms! Whirlwinds, seas, continents,

  And worlds, divide us! O, thrice happy thou,

  Who hast no use of eyes; for here’s a sight

  Would turn the melting face of mercy’s self

  To a wild fury.

  Œdip. Ha! what seest thou there?

  Joc. The spirit of my husband! O, the gods!

  How wan he looks!

  Œdip. Thou ravest; thy husband’s here.

  Joc. There, there he mounts

  In circling fire among the blushing clouds!

  And see, he waves Jocasta from the world!

  Ghost. Jocasta, Œdipus. [Vanish with thunder.

  Œdip. What wouldst thou have?

  Thou knowest I cannot come to thee, detained

  In darkness here, and kept from means of death.

  I’ve heard a spirit’s force is wonderful;

  At whose approach, when starting from his dungeon,

  The earth does shake, and the old ocean groans,

  Rocks are removed, and towe
rs are thundered down;

  And walls of brass, and gates of adamant

  Are passable as air, and fleet like winds.

  Joc. Was that a raven’s croak, or my son’s voice?

  No matter which; I’ll to the grave and hide me.

  Earth open, or I’ll tear thy bowels up.

  Hark! he goes on, and blabs the deed of incest.

  Œdip. Strike then, imperial ghost; dash all at once

  This house of clay into a thousand pieces;

  That my poor lingering soul may take her flight

  To your immortal dwellings.

  Joc. Haste thee, then,

  Or I shall be before thee. See, — thou canst not see!

  Then I will tell thee that my wings are on.

  I’ll mount, I’ll fly, and with a port divine

  Glide all along the gaudy milky soil,

  To find my Laius out; ask every god

  In his bright palace, if he knows my Laius,

  My murdered Laius!

  Œdip. Ha! how’s this, Jocasta?

  Nay, if thy brain be sick, then thou art happy.

  Joc. Ha! will you not? shall I not find him out?

  Will you not show him? are my tears despised?

  Why, then I’ll thunder, yes, I will be mad,

  And fright you with my cries. Yes, cruel gods,

  Though vultures, eagles, dragons tear my heart,

  I’ll snatch celestial flames, fire all your dwellings,

  Melt down your golden roofs, and make your doors

  Of crystal fly from off their diamond hinges;

  Drive you all out from your ambrosial hives,

  To swarm like bees about the field of heaven.

  This will I do, unless you show me Laius,

  My dear, my murdered lord. O Laius! Laius! Laius! [Exit Jocasta.

  Œdip. Excellent grief! why, this is as it should be!

  No mourning can be suitable to crimes

  Like ours, but what death makes, or madness forms.

  I could have wished, methought, for sight again,

  To mark the gallantry of her distraction;

  Her blazing eyes darting the wandering stars,

  To have seen her mouth the heavens, and mate the gods,

  While with her thundering voice she menaced high,

  And every accent twanged with smarting sorrow;

  But what’s all this to thee? thou, coward, yet

  Art living, canst not, wilt not find the road

  To the great palace of magnificent Death;

  Though thousand ways lead to his thousand doors,

  Which, day and night, are still unbarred for all. [Clashing of Swords. Drums and Trumpets without.

  Hark! ’tis the noise of clashing swords! the sound

  Comes near; — O, that a battle would come o’er me!

  If I but grasp a sword, or wrest a dagger,

  I’ll make a ruin with the first that falls.

  Enter Hæmon, with Guards.

  Hæm. Seize him, and bear him to the western tower. —

  Pardon me, sacred sir; I am informed

  That Creon has designs upon your life:

  Forgive me, then, if, to preserve you from him,

  I order your confinement.

  Œdip. Slaves, unhand me! —

  I think thou hast a sword;— ’twas the wrong side.

  Yet, cruel Hæmon, think not I will live;

  He, that could tear his eyes out, sure can find

  Some desperate way to stifle this cursed breath:

  Or if I starve! — but that’s a lingering fate;

  Or if I leave my brains upon the wall! —

  The airy soul can easily o’er-shoot

  Those bounds, with which thou striv’st to pale her in.

  Yes, I will perish in despite of thee;

  And, by the rage that stirs me, if I meet thee

  In the other world, I’ll curse thee for this usage.[Exit.

  Hæm. Tiresias, after him, and with your counsel,

  Advise him humbly: charm, if possible,

  These feuds within; while I without extinguish,

  Or perish in the attempt, the furious Creon;

  That brand which sets our city in a flame.

  Tir. Heaven prosper your intent, and give a period

  To all our plagues. What old Tiresias can,

  Shall straight be done. — Lead, Manto, to the tower. [Exeunt Tiresias and Manto.

  Hæm. Follow me all, and help to part this fray, [Trumpets again.

  Or fall together in the bloody broil.[Exeunt.

  Enter Creon with Eurydice; Pyracmon, and his party, giving Ground to Adrastus.

  Cre. Hold, hold your arms, Adrastus, prince of Argos!

  Hear, and behold; Eurydice is my prisoner.

  Adr. What would’st thou, hell-hound?

  Cre. See this brandished dagger;

  Forego the advantage which thy arms have won.

  Or, by the blood which trembles through the heart

  Of her, whom more than life I know thou lovest,

  I’ll bury to the haft, in her fair breast,

  This instrument of my revenge.

  Adr. Stay thee, damned wretch; hold, stop thy bloody hand!

  Cre. Give order, then, that on this instant, now,

  This moment, all thy soldiers straight disband.

  Adr. Away, my friends, since fate has so allotted;

  Begone, and leave me to the villain’s mercy.

  Eur. Ah, my Adrastus! call them, call them back!

  Stand there; come back! O, cruel barbarous men!

  Could you then leave your lord, your prince, your king,

  After so bravely having fought his cause,

  To perish by the hand of this base villain?

  Why rather rush you not at once together

  All to his ruin? drag him through the streets,

  Hang his contagious quarters on the gates;

  Nor let my death affright you.

  Cre. Die first thyself, then.

  Adr. O, I charge thee hold! —

  Hence from my presence, all; he’s not my friend

  That disobeys. — See, art thou now appeased?[Exeunt Attendants.

  Or is there aught else yet remains to do,

  That can atone thee? slake thy thirst of blood

  With mine; but save, O save that innocent wretch!

  Cre. Forego thy sword, and yield thyself my prisoner.

  Eur. Yet, while there’s any dawn of hope to save

  Thy precious life, my dear Adrastus,

  Whate’er thou dost, deliver not thy sword;

  With that thou may’st get off, tho’ odds oppose thee.

  For me, O fear not; no, he dares not touch me;

  His horrid love will spare me. Keep thy sword;

  Lest I be ravished after thou art slain.

  Adr. Instruct me, gods, what shall Adrastus do?

  Cre. Do what thou wilt, when she is dead; my soldiers

  With numbers will o’erpower thee. Is’t thy wish

  Eurydice should fall before thee?

  Adr. Traitor, no;

  Better that thou, and I, and all mankind,

  Should be no more.

  Cre. Then cast thy sword away,

  And yield thee to my mercy, or I strike.

  Adr. Hold thy raised arm; give me a moment’s pause.

  My father, when he blest me, gave me this:

  My son, said he, let this be thy last refuge;

  If thou forego’st it, misery attends thee. —

  Yet love now charms it from me; which in all

  The hazards of my life I never lost.

  ’Tis thine, my faithful sword; my only trust;

  Though my heart tells me that the gift is fatal.[Gives it.

  Cre. Fatal! yes, foolish love-sick prince, it shall:

  Thy arrogance, thy scorn, my wound’s remembrance.

  Turn all at once the fatal point upon thee. —

  Pyracmon to the
palace; dispatch

  The king; hang Hæmon up, for he is loyal,

  And will oppose me. — Come, sir, are you ready?

  Adr. Yes, villain, for whatever thou canst dare.

  Eur. Hold, Creon, or through me, through me you wound.

  Adr. Off, madam, or we perish both; behold

  I’m not unarmed, my poniard’s in my hand;

  Therefore, away.

  Eur. I’ll guard your life with mine.

  Cre. Die both, then; there is now no time for dallying. [Kills Eurydice.

  Eur. Ah, prince, farewell! farewell, my dear Adrastus! [Dies.

  Adr. Unheard-of monster! eldest-born of hell!

  Down, to thy primitive flame.[Stabs Creon.

  Cre. Help, soldiers, help;

  Revenge me.

  Adr. More; yet more; a thousand wounds!

  I’ll stamp thee still, thus, to the gaping furies. [Adrastus falls, killed by the soldiers.

  Enter Hæmon, Guards, with Alcander and Pyracmon bound; the Assassins are driven off.

  O Hæmon, I am slain; nor need I name

  The inhuman author of all villainies;

  There he lies gasping.

  Cre. If I must plunge in flames,

  Burn first my arm; base instrument, unfit

  To act the dictates of my daring mind;

  Burn, burn for ever, O weak substitute

  Of that, the god, ambition.[Dies.

  Adr. She’s gone; — O deadly marksman, in the heart!

  Yet in the pangs of death she grasps my hand;

  Her lips too tremble, as if she would speak

  Her last farewell. — O, Œdipus, thy fall

  Is great; and nobly now thou goest attended!

  They talk of heroes, and celestial beauties,

  And wondrous pleasures in the other world;

  Let me but find her there, I ask no more.[Dies.

  Enter a Captain to Hæmon; with Teresias and Manto.

  Cap. O, sir, the queen Jocasta, swift and wild,

  As a robbed tygress bounding o’er the woods,

  Has acted murders that amaze mankind;

  In twisted gold I saw her daughters hang

  On the bed-royal, and her little sons

  Stabbed through the breasts upon the bloody pillows.

  Hæm. Relentless heavens! is then the fate of Laius

  Never to be atoned? How sacred ought

  Kings’ lives be held, when but the death of one

  Demands an empire’s blood for expiation!

  But see! the furious mad Jocasta’s here.

  Scene draws, and discovers Jocasta held by her women and stabbed in many places of her Bosom, her Hair dishevelled, her Children slain upon the Bed.

  Was ever yet a sight of so much horror

  And pity brought to view!

  Joc. Ah, cruel women!

  Will you not let me take my last farewell

  Of those dear babes? O let me run, and seal