Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1898) v3.djvu/86

58 (Ant.) At last was Oedipus, woe-fated, bound

From Pytho, hither led,—

Our joy, but soon our grief,—who, triumph-crowned

From that dark riddle read,

Wretch, in ill bridal made his mother wife,

Polluted Thebes, and banned

His sons to stain in this accursèd strife

With brother-blood the hand.

Praise to him, praise, who unto death is faring,

Yea, for his land to die,

Leaving to Kreon moans of love's despairing,

But setting victory

For crown upon the city seven-gated!

Ah, may such noble son

To bless mine happy motherhood be fated,

O Pallas, gracious one!—

Pallas, of whom the sudden stone leapt, spilling

The dragon-warder's blood:

Thou gav'st the thought the heart of Kadmus thrilling

To dare the deed whence rushed, with ravin filling

The land, a God's curse-flood.

Enter Messenger.

Ho there! Who standeth at the palace-gate?

Open ye, bring Jocasta forth her bowers.

Ho there, again! Though late, yet come thou forth:

Hearken, renowned wife of Oedipus;

Cease from thy wailings and thy tears of grief.

Enter Jocasta.

Friend—friend!—thou com'st not sure with ill news fraught