Page:Tragedies of Sophocles (Plumptre 1878).djvu/166

68 Œdip. The wretched Œdipus?

Chor. And art thou he?

Œdip. Yet fear thou nothing, whatsoe'er I say.

Chor. Alas! alas!

Œdip. Ο miserable me!

Chor. Woe! woe!

Œdip. My daughter! what befalls us now?

Chor. Depart ye from our land!

Œdip. And wilt thou thus thy promise to us keep?

Chor. Vengeance comes not from Heaven on any man,

Avenging wrongs that men have done to him;

But fraud on this side meeting fraud on that,

Repays with pain, not kindness. Go, I say,

From this spot too; forth from my land depart,

Lest on my city some fresh ill thou bring.

Antig. Ο strangers, kind and pitiful of heart,

Since ye could not endure

To hear my agèd father speak of crimes

Done most unwillingly;

Have pity, I implore you, friends, on me,

Who for my lonely father supplicate—

Yea, supplicate, with eyes not blind and dark,

Gazing on thine eyes, as a maiden might,

Who common kindred claimed,

That at your hands this old man, woe-begone,

May find the pity that is born of awe.

On you, as on a god, we rest our fate;

But grant, oh, grant me this unlooked-for boon.

By all that is most dear, I supplicate,

Thy child, thy wife, thy treasure, or thy God;

Search where thou wilt, thou ne'er wilt find a man

With strength to 'scape when God shall lead him on.

Chor. Know, child of Œdipus, we pity thee,