Page:Tragedies of Sophocles (Plumptre 1878).djvu/165

Rh Chor. Stop here; nor farther bend thy foot

Beyond this platform hewn from out the rock.

Œdip. Shall it be thus?

Chor. Enough, as now thou hearest.

Œdip. And may I sit?

Chor. Just leaning sideways here,

On the rock's edge sit low and bend thy knees.

Antig. This, father, be my task. With gentle tread,

Step after step advance; [ groans.

Thy agèd frame to my fond hand confide.

Œdip. Ah me! my weary fate!

Chor. Ο suffering one, since now thou givest way,

Speak. Who of mortals art thou?

Who art thou that art led thus miserable?

Thy country we would learn.

Œdip. I am an exile, friends; but no! not that

Chor. And why, old man, why shrinkest thou from that?

Œdip. No! no! let no one ask me who I am:

Search not, with over-curious, idle quest.

Chor. What means all this?

Œdip. My birth was terrible.

Chor. Yet tell it out!

Œdip. [To .] What must I say, my child?

Chor. Tell us, Ο stranger, of what race thou com'st?

Œdip. Woe! woe! What sorrow comes on me, my child!

Antig. Tell them, for thou art in a sore strait now.

Œdip. Yea, I will speak. No hiding-place is left.

Chor. Ye linger long; make haste to tell thy tale.

Œdip. Know ye of Laios' son?

Chor. Ah woe! ah woe!

Œdip. The race of the Labdakidæ?

Chor. Ο Zeus!