Page:Oedipus, King of Thebes (Murray 1911).djvu/31

vv. 246–273 And lastly for the murderer, be it one

Hiding alone or more in unison,

I speak on him this curse: even as his soul

Is foul within him let his days be foul,

And life unfriended grind him till he die.

More: if he ever tread my hearth and I

Know it, be every curse upon my head

That I have spoke this day.

All I have said

I charge ye strictly to fulfil and make

Perfect, for my sake, for Apollo’s sake,

And this land’s sake, deserted of her fruit

And cast out from her gods. Nay, were all mute

At Delphi, still ’twere strange to leave the thing

Unfollowed, when a true man and a King

Lay murdered. All should search. But I, as now

Our fortunes fall—his crown is on my brow,

His wife lies in my arms, and common fate,

Had but his issue been more fortunate,

Might well have joined our children—since this red

Chance hath so stamped its heel on Laïus’ head,

I am his champion left, and, as I would

For mine own father, choose for ill or good

This quest, to find the man who slew of yore

Labdacus’ son, the son of Polydore,

Son of great Cadmus whom Agenor old

Begat, of Thebes first master. And, behold,

For them that aid me not, I pray no root

Nor seed in earth may bear them corn nor fruit,

No wife bear children, but this present curse

Cleave to them close and other woes yet worse.

Enough: ye other people of the land,