User:Robertgreer/sandbox/S
Sofiane Sylve joined the company as principal dancer in 2008. Ms. Sylve was born in Nice, France, where she studied at the Académie de Dance. She danced with Germany’s Stadttheater, the Dutch National Ballet, and New York City Ballet prior to performing with San Francisco Ballet as a guest artist during the 2008 repertory season. She has danced a variety of ballets including works by George Balanchine, Jorma Elo, William Forsythe (dancer), Wayne McGregor, Alexei Ratmansky, Jerome Robbins, Glen Tetley and Christopher Wheeldon.
PRINCIPAL CASTING FOR SAN FRANCISCO BALLET
editNew York City Tour — David H. Koch Theater at Lincoln Center
October 16-27, 2013
Full tour information
- Denotes premiere in role
In the event of injury or illness, casting is subject to change
PROGRAM A: OPENING NIGHT – Wednesday, October 16, 2013 – 8:00PM
New York Premiere
Trio Choreographer: Helgi Tomasson Composer: Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky Conductor: Martin West
Vanessa Zahorian, Vitor Luiz
Sarah Van Patten, Tiit Helimets, Anthony Spaulding Maria Kochetkova, Gennadi Nedvigin
INTERMISSION
New York Premiere
Ghosts Choreographer: Christopher Wheeldon Composer: C.F. Kip Winger Conductor: Martin West
Yuan Yuan Tan, Damian Smith
Sofiane Sylve, Tiit Helimets, Shane Wuerthner
INTERMISSION
New York Premiere
Borderlands Choreographer: Wayne McGregor Composer: Joel Cadbury and Paul Stoney Conductor: Martin West
Maria Kochetkova, Jaime Garcia Castilla
Sarah Van Patten, Pascal Molat Frances Chung, Carlos Quenedit
Sofiane Sylve, Anthony Spaulding*
Koto Ishihara, Lonnie Weeks Elizabeth Powell, Francisco Mungamba
Program C: OPENING NIGHT – Thursday, October 17 – 8:00PM
New York Premiere
From Foreign Lands Choreographer: Alexei Ratmansky Composer: Moritz Moszkowski Conductor: Martin West
Russian: Vanessa Zahorian, Davit Karapetyan
Frances Chung, Gennadi Nedvigin Italian: Pascal Molat, Sarah Van Patten, Dana Genshaft, Dores Andre German: Sofiane Sylve, Shane Wuerthner, Luke Ingham, Luke Willis Spanish: Frances Chung, Pascal Molat Sarah Van Patten, Gennadi Nedvigin Polish: Sofiane Sylve, Vanessa Zahorian, Dores Andre, Dana Genshaft Davit Karapetyan, Shane Wuerthner, Luke Ingham, Luke Willis
INTERMISSION
New York Premiere
Beaux Choreographer: Mark Morris Composer: Bohuslav Martinů Conductor: Martin West Harpsichord: Bradley Moore
Henry Sidford*, Pascal Molat, Benjamin Stewart
Jeremy Rucker, Ruben Martin Cintas, Gennadi Nedvigin Sean Bennett, Luke Willis*, Dustin Shane Spero
PAUSE
New York Premiere
Classical Symphony Choreographer: Yuri Possokhov Composer: Sergei Prokofiev Conductor: Martin West
Maria Kochetkova, Hansuke Yamamoto
Frances Chung, Carlos Quenedit Dores Andre, Jaime Garcia Castilla
New York Premiere
Symphonic Dances Choreographer: Edwaard Liang Composer: Sergei Rachmaninov Conductor: Martin West
Yuan Yuan Tan, Luke Ingham
Sofiane Sylve, Tiit Helimets Maria Kochetkova, Vitor Luiz
Program C: Friday, October 18 – 8:00PM
From Foreign Lands
Choreographer: Alexei Ratmansky Composer: Moritz Moszkowski Conductor: Ming Luke
Russian: Sasha De Sola, Davit Karapetyan
Maria Kochetkova, Vitor Luiz Italian: Pascal Molat, Sarah Van Patten, Dana Genshaft, Dores Andre German: Simone Messmer, Shane Wuerthner, Luke Ingham, Luke Willis Spanish: Maria Kochetkova, Pascal Molat Sarah Van Patten, Vitor Luiz Polish: Simone Messmer, Sasha De Sola, Dores Andre, Dana Genshaft Davit Karapetyan, Shane Wuerthner, Luke Ingham, Luke Willis
INTERMISSION
Beaux
Choreographer: Mark Morris Composer: Bohuslav Martinů Conductor: Ming Luke Harpsichord: Bradley Moore
Henry Sidford, Pascal Molat, Benjamin Stewart
Jeremy Rucker, Ruben Martin Cintas, James Sofranko Sean Bennett, Luke Willis, Dustin Shane Spero
PAUSE
Classical Symphony
Choreographer: Yuri Possokhov Composer: Sergei Prokofiev Conductor: Ming Luke
Vanessa Zahorian, Gennadi Nedvigin
Frances Chung, Carlos Quenedit Clara Blanco, Jaime Garcia Castilla
INTERMISSION
Symphonic Dances
Choreographer: Edwaard Liang Composer: Sergei Rachmaninov Conductor: Martin West
Yuan Yuan Tan, Luke Ingham
Sofiane Sylve, Tiit Helimets Maria Kochetkova, Vitor Luiz
Program B OPENING MATINEE – Saturday, October 19 – 2:00PM
Trio
Choreographer: Helgi Tomasson Composer: Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky Conductor: Martin West
Mathilde Froustey*, Joan Boada
Dana Genshaft, Ruben Martin Cintas Damian Smith* Frances Chung, Taras Domitro
INTERMISSION
Ghosts
Choreographer: Christopher Wheeldon Composer: C.F. Kip Winger Conductor: Martin West
Maria Kochetkova, Vitor Luiz
Lorena Feijoo, Ruben Martin Cintas, Shane Wuerthner
INTERMISSION
Suite en Blanc Choreographer: Serge Lifar
Composer: Édouard Lalo Conductor: Martin West
Vanessa Zahorian, Tiit Helimets, Sofiane Sylve
Frances Chung, Esteban Hernandez*, Francisco Mungamba, Wei Wang, Lonnie Weeks Sarah Van Patten Davit Karapetyan Yuan Yuan Tan, Tiit Helimets Sofiane Sylve
Program A – Saturday, October 19 – 8:00PM
Trio
Choreographer: Helgi Tomasson Composer: Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky Conductor: Martin West
Vanessa Zahorian, Vitor Luiz
Sarah Van Patten, Tiit Helimets Anthony Spaulding Maria Kochetkova, Davit Karapetyan
INTERMISSION
Ghosts
Choreographer: Christopher Wheeldon Composer: C.F. Kip Winger Conductor: Martin West
Yuan Yuan Tan, Damian Smith
Sofiane Sylve, Tiit Helimets, Shane Wuerthner
INTERMISSION
Borderlands
Choreographer: Wayne McGregor Composer: Joel Cadbury and Paul Stoney Conductor: Martin West
Maria Kochetkova, Jaime Garcia Castilla
Sarah Van Patten, Pascal Molat
Frances Chung, Carlos Quenedit
Sofiane Sylve, Anthony Spaulding Koto Ishihara, Lonnie Weeks Elizabeth Powell, Francisco Mungamba
Program D OPENING MATINEE – Sunday, October 20 – 2:00PM
From Foreign Lands
Choreographer: Alexei Ratmansky
Composer: Moritz Moszkowski Conductor: Ming Luke
Russian: Sasha De Sola, Jaime Garcia Castilla
Frances Chung, Vitor Luiz Italian: Joan Boada, Mathilde Froustey*, Rebecca Rhodes*, Dores Andre German: Jennifer Stahl, Anthony Spaulding*, Luke Ingham, Luke Willis Spanish: Frances Chung, Joan Boada Mathilde Froustey, Vitor Luiz Polish: Jennifer Stahl, Sasha De Sola, Dores Andre, Rebecca Rhodes Jaime Garcia Castilla, Anthony Spaulding, Luke Ingham, Luke Willis
INTERMISSION
Symphonic Dances
Choreographer: Edwaard Liang Composer: Sergei Rachmaninov Conductor: Martin West
Frances Chung, Jaime Garcia Castilla
Sarah Van Patten, Anthony Spaulding Lorena Feijoo, Vitor Luiz
INTERMISSION
Suite en Blanc
Choreographer: Serge Lifar Composer: Édouard Lalo Conductor: Ming Luke
Mathilde Froustey, Vitor Luiz, Davit Karapetyan
Simone Messmer*, Esteban Hernandez, Francisco Mungamba, Wei Wang, Max Cauthorn* Vanessa Zahorian Taras Domitro Yuan Yuan Tan, Tiit Helimets
New York Premiere
CINDERELLA: OPENING NIGHT – Wednesday, October 23 – 8PM
Choreographer: Christopher Wheeldon
Conductor: Martin West Composer: Sergei Prokofiev
Cinderella: Maria Kochetkova
Prince: Joan Boada Stepmother: Marie-Claire D’Lyse Stepsister Edwina: Vanessa Zahorian Stepsister Clementine: Frances Chung Benjamin: Taras Domitro
CINDERELLA – Thursday, October 24 – 8PM
Choreographer: Christopher Wheeldon
Conductor: Martin West Composer: Sergei Prokofiev
Cinderella: Sarah Van Patten
Prince: Tiit Helimets* Stepmother: Marie-Claire D’Lyse Stepsister Edwina: Dana Genshaft Stepsister Clementine: Clara Blanco Benjamin: Hansuke Yamamoto
CINDERELLA – Friday, October 25 – 8PM
Choreographer: Christopher Wheeldon
Conductor: Martin West Composer: Sergei Prokofiev
Cinderella: Vanessa Zahorian
Prince: Davit Karapetyan Stepmother: Shannon Marie Rugani Stepsister Edwina: Sasha De Sola Stepsister Clementine: Clara Blanco Benjamin: Hansuke Yamamoto
CINDERELLA – Saturday, October 26 – 2PM
Choreographer: Christopher Wheeldon
Conductor: Martin West Composer: Sergei Prokofiev
Cinderella: Frances Chung
Prince: Carlos Quenedit Stepmother: Shannon Marie Rugani Stepsister Edwina: Sarah Van Patten Stepsister Clementine: Dores Andre Benjamin: Myles Thatcher
CINDERELLA – Saturday, October 26 – 8PM
Choreographer: Christopher Wheeldon
Conductor: Martin West Composer: Sergei Prokofiev
Cinderella: Yuan Yuan Tan
Prince: Luke Ingham Stepmother: Marie-Claire D’Lyse Stepsister Edwina: Vanessa Zahorian Stepsister Clementine: Dores Andre Benjamin: Taras Domitro
CINDERELLA – Sunday, October 27 – 2PM
Choreographer: Christopher Wheeldon
Conductor: Martin West Composer: Sergei Prokofiev
Cinderella: Maria Kochetkova
Prince: Joan Boada Stepmother: Marie-Claire D’Lyse Stepsister Edwina: Sarah Van Patten Stepsister Clementine: Frances Chung Benjamin: Taras Domitro
Dena Abergel has been named Children’s Ballet Master at New York City Ballet.
Merrill Ashley traveled to Moscow to stage Diamonds with Paul Boos for the Bolshoi Ballet’s new production of Jewels in spring of this year. She also went to London to restage Ballo della Regina for the Royal Ballet, and to Texas to coach the Houston Ballet’s production of Theme and Variations. In addition, Merrill appeared with Tom Gold's group of dancers in Israel as both lecturer and teacher.
Mary Helen Bowers’ new book, Ballet Beautiful, was released in June. The book offers a ballet-inspired workout for achieving strength, tone, and poise.
Marissa Cerveris is a guest artist in dance at Muhlenberg College in Allentown, PA.
Abigail Crutchfield is a member of the production staff for Katie Couric's new daytime talk show.
Kevin Dwyer received the annual Michael Brennan Courage Award recognizing outstanding individuals living with cystic fibrosis during the Boomer Esiason Foundation’s Booming Celebration at the Waldorf Astoria last February.
Lauren Fadeley and Jermel Johnson have been promoted to Principal rank at Pennsylvania Ballet, and Evelyn Kocak has been promoted to Soloist.
Adrian S. Fry returned to his home state of Nebraska in June to dance the role of the Prince for the Lincoln Midwest Ballet Company production of Cinderella at McDonald Theatre on the Nebraska Wesleyan University campus.
Marcus Galante, board member of Dancers Over 40, produced an evening titled Balanchine Broadway and Beyond at St. Luke's Theatre in New York City in October. The event included screenings of rare film and video clips from On Your Toes, Square Dance and Western Symphony.
Kiyon Gaines, a soloist with Pacific Northwest Ballet, premiered his new work Sum Stravinsky—an homage to George Balanchine and Kent Stowell—at PNB in November. It was his second ballet for the Company’s main stage, following M-Pulse in 2008.
Kaitlyn Gilliland has joined the faculty of SAB and been named Assistant Children’s Ballet Master for New York City Ballet.
Adam Hendrickson has retired from New York City Ballet and joined Weapons Specialists Limited.
Julie Kent received the 2012 Dance Magazine Award in December.
New York City Ballet dancers Rebecca Krohn and Ana Sophia Scheller were promoted to Principal rank last May.
Boston Ballet principal dancer Misa Kuranaga graced the cover of the August/September Pointe Magazine.
Gavin Larsen, former principal dancer of Oregon Ballet Theatre and faculty member of the Oregon Ballet Theatre School, joined the faculty of the Shreveport Metropolitan Ballet's Summer Program in Shreveport, Louisiana.
Lawrence Leritz recently danced in Carly Rae Jepsen and Harvey Keitel's rendition of ‘Call Me Maybe’ during Comedy Central's television event, Night of Too Many Stars at The Beacon Theatre. Leritz also directed The Ron Palillo Tribute at The Triad Theatre, hosted by Tyne Daly.
Lourdes Lopez became Artistic Director of Miami City Ballet in September.
The Clive Barnes Foundation named Lauren Lovette the recipient of the 2012 Clive Barnes Award for dance in December.
The Joffrey Ballet’s Jeraldine Mendoza received a $50,000 grant from the Leonore Annenberg Fellowship Fund in June.
Tara Mora joined the faculty of Ballet Academy East's Pre-Professional Division.
Arantxa Ochoa retired from Pennsylvania Ballet in October and has been named Principal Instructor at the company's newly opened school.
Justin Peck premiered two new works to much critical acclaim at New York City Ballet last year: InCreases in July and Year of the Rabbit in October.
Troy Schumacher, choreographed the New York premieres of two new works for Satellite Ballet and Collective at New York’s Gerald W. Lynch Theater in November, Warehouse Under the Hudson and Epistasis. Troy is co-founder and co-director of the Company.
Erica Sheftman graduated from Harvard in May and is now Projects Manager for the Aspen Institute Arts Program.
Beatrix Stix-Brunell has been promoted to Soloist at The Royal Ballet.
Julia Goldani Telles is starred as a teen-aged ballet student in the prime time television series Bunheads which aired on the ABC Family network last year.
Heather Watts received a Doctorate in Fine Arts honoris causa from Hunter College in January and was the Class of 1932 Visiting Lecturer in Dance at Princeton University for 2011-12.
Damian Woetzel served as an adviser alongside Renee Fleming and YoYo Ma to Mayor Rahm Emanuel for the recently unveiled Chicago Cultural Plan promoting public school arts education. He also co-produced the Natalia Makarova tribute for the 35th annual Kennedy Center Honors in December, and was honored this summer with the inaugural Gene Kelly Legacy Award.
- Amedeo Modigliani 1917 portrait of ...
- 1928 Portrait of a Boy (self-portrait?!)
original
edit
|
|
NYCB revivals
edit1984 New York State Theater: 20-Year Celebration
edit
|
|
first cast
editsecond cast
edit
|
notes
editplays
edit- Salvation Nell, Tuesday, November 17, 1908–Friday, January 1, 1909
- The Nigger, Saturday, December 4, 1909–Wednesday, December 1, 1909
- The Boss, Monday, January 30, 1911–Saturday, April 1, 1911
- The High Road, Tuesday, November 19, 1912–Wednesday, January 1, 1913
- Romance, Monday, February 10, 1913–Sunday, June 1, 1913
- The Garden of Paradise, Saturday, November 28, 1914–Tuesday, December 1, 1914
- The Song of Songs, Tuesday, December 22, 1914–Tuesday, June 1, 1915
- The Jest, Friday, September 19, 1919–Saturday, February 28, 1920, book adapted by Edward Sheldon (revival)
- Romance, Monday, February 28, 1921–Sunday, May 1, 1921
- The Czarina, Tuesday, January 31, 1922–Monday, May 1, 1922, book adapted by Edward Sheldon
- Bewitched, Wednesday, October 1, 1924–Wednesday, October 1, 1924
- Lulu Belle, Tuesday, February 9, 1926–Monday, March 1, 1926
- My Princess, Thursday, October 6, 1927–Saturday, October 22, 1927, from a play by Edward Sheldon (musical)
- Jenny, Tuesday, October 8, 1929–Wednesday, January 1, 1930
- Dishonored Lady, Tuesday, February 4, 1930–Thursday, May 1, 1930
- My Romance, Tuesday, October 19, 1948–Saturday, January 8, 1949, om "Romance" by Edward Sheldon(musical)
films adapted from Sheldon works
edit- 1920 Romance (play)
- 1921 Salvation Nell (play)
- 1922 On the High Seas (story)
- 1924 Lily of the Dust (play, The Song of Songs)
- 1930 Romance (play)
- 1931 Salvation Nell (play)
- 1933 The Song of Songs (play)
- 1947 Dishonored Lady (play)
Edward Sheldon, Brief life of a secret dramaturge: 1886–1946 by Elliott Sirkin Harvard Magazine, March–April 2001
editThe portrait below of Edward Sheldon ’08, A.M. ’08, shows the first promising American playwright of the last century as he must have looked when he was in his late twenties: the author of a string of Broadway successes, a restless world traveler and dashing social figure, the author of at least one play—Romance—whose London run of 1,049 performances easily represented another era’s equivalent of today’s Andrew Lloyd Webber marathons. When he died, some 30 years later, this playwright, once the image of precocious brilliance, had been too hideously crippled for too many years to hold a manuscript in his hands, as he does so raptly in the picture. He could not even turn his head, and it had been years since he could see a stage—or anything else.
A posthumous portrait of Sheldon by Paul Trebilcock.
Photograph courtesy of the Harvard Theatre Collection, Houghton Library, Harvard College Library
But it was in those years of blind paralysis that Edward Sheldon contributed most vitally to the art form he cherished. In Vatican-like splendor, he dispensed serene strength, as well as uncanny advice, to colleagues stunned by his patient endurance. Lillian Gish first referred to him as “the pope of the theater,” and for a generation of theater artists whose work he could not see, his word had holy authority.
Born into a Chicago family of railroad millionaires and real-estate barons, Sheldon was exquisitely sensitive and theater-mad from a young age. A prize student of Professor George Pierce Baker, founder of the playwriting class “47 Workshop,” Sheldon seems to have surprised no one when, within five years of graduation, he was the author of four Broadway plays, most of them hits. Contemporary critics, eager to witness the birth of America’s first great playwright, gladly mistook his class-conscious suspense stories for the native equivalents of Ibsen and Zola.
In truth, they were much too naive and sentimental for that. But plays such as Salvation Nell and The Boss, with their credible plot turns, raw urban bounce, and surprisingly equal feel for the details of slum life and high society are still the testaments of an artist who had a decent grip on character and a sincere sense of social justice. His melodramas all but forecast the virtues of Hollywood in its heyday, and in the Thirties, the 1913 megahit Romance actually became an MGM film starring Greta Garbo.
The portrait testifies to the brio and zest of the prewar playwright who became known as Broadway’s Wonder Boy. When Sheldon was at his height, his personal income, both private and earned, was enormous. His place in the theatrical and social circles of New York was at the top.
Then, slowly, his future was revoked. When he was 29, a monstrously crippling disease, most likely ankylosing spondylitis, began its progressive assault, and within a few years, Sheldon was so hopelessly prone that he could be installed in a Pullman coach only on a stretcher, through windows whose glass had been removed. And yet, in strange ways, the man within the broken body did not change. Until the disease stole his sight in 1930, he continued writing plays, mostly in collaboration with a series of novices. One result, a suave and fast-moving adaptation of The Age of Innocence, could probably bear revival now.
In his forties, only Sheldon’s speech and hearing remained, and every joint below his head was rigid. His biographer’s descriptions of the penthouse bedroom where he lay, motionless but not mute, suggest an atmosphere of vault-like luxury. The crypt’s tenant, however, refused to be buried alive. Suicide was an option he refused, solitude was abhorrent to him.
Instead, Sheldon’s collaborations now became advisory, and at his own insistence, kept secret. His perceptive criticism helped Thornton Wilder to mold Our Town and Robert Sherwood ’18 to complete Abe Lincoln in Illinois. A lesser protégé wrote Dark Victory. (Perhaps because he may still have longed to write another play of his own, any publicity for this tacit dramaturgy embarrassed him deeply.) Sheldon also coached actors. Helen Hayes, Raymond Massey, and Katharine Cornell all sought his guidance.
The radio and the servants who read to him, and an army of nurses and physical therapists, were Sheldon’s daily companions, though visits from old colleagues and the children of friends helped relieve the monotony of total darkness and physical inertia. Dowagers, scions, new lights of the British stage, old pillars of the Metropolitan Opera came, too. Among Sheldon’s many callers, there seems to have been a consensus about the steady solace of his company. The young John Gielgud considered their few hours together among his life’s “most remarkable and inspiring.” Another visitor wrote of the strange “atmosphere of light” that always seemed to surround the supine and sightless man.
So at least a drop of the radiance, captured with such mellow shine in the portrait, might still have been with Sheldon when, just after dawn on an April morning, a heart attack concluded his 30-year ordeal. The next day, editorial pages applauded his life. As the shadows cast by the playwrights and actors he had counseled lengthened, his legend grew—even if it was not the one he had dreamed of when, as a veteran of nothing more than the Harvard Dramatic Club, he had sat down to write his first play in Cambridge so many years before.
Elliott Sirkin is a graduate of Harvard’s Institute for Advanced Theatre Training.
Simple Symphony (1934) by Benjamin Britten Choreography Melissa Barak Premiere February 17, 2009, New York City Ballet, David H. Koch Theater, Lincoln Center, New York NY Original Cast Sara Mearns, Jared Angle, Tiler Peck, Ana Sophia Scheller, Tyler Angle, Sean Suozzi
As she approached creating her third work for the NYCB repertory, Melissa Barak wanted to choreograph a ballet rooted firmly in the Company’s neo-classical tradition that also had a romantic and playful flavor not usually seen in contemporary works. She put the elements together artfully. For her music, Barak selected Benjamin Britten’s Simple Symphony, a 1934 work for a string orchestra that uses themes the composer developed earlier in his life. In Britten’s music Barak found a path to explore the classical ballet vocabulary in the lively and romantic way she envisioned. The music is bright and accessible; its four movements provide an excellent structure on which to build a ballet. Two lively movements are followed by a lyrical, romantic adagio, ending with a final spirited movement.
Barak designed the women’s costumes in a pastel, romantic style tutu. The men are also dressed in a style that evokes a romantic era. Finally, Barak assembled a traditional grouping of dancers: a principal couple, two soloist couples and six corps women.
The corps' complex, lyrical patterns of movement play a central role throughout the ballet. The third movement pas de deux for the principal couple with its sweeping lifts and gentle lyricism is the emotional core of ballet. Barak had Balanchine’s La Source and Raymonda Variations in mind as she developed A Simple Symphony. In this ballet she accomplishes two goals: paying homage to earlier, beautiful plotless ballets, while developing her personal vision of the classical vocabulary.
Benjamin Britten (1913-1976), an English composer, is noted for his vocal music, including song cycles, choral works, and operas (Peter Grimes and The Turn of the Screw are perhaps his most famous). His War Requiem, based on the anti-war poems of Wilfred Owen, was sung at the dedication of the reconstructed Coventry Cathedral, which had been destroyed by bombs in November 1940. The music for Fanfare, created in celebration of the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II, had its premiere on Coronation Night. The music, Britten’s variations and a fugue on a theme by one of England’s greatest composers, Henry Purcell (1659-1695), also celebrates the different instruments of the modern symphony orchestra.
Corps de Ballet
edit
Apprentices
edit
Artistic Director
edit
Choreographer in Residence
edit
Ballet Master / Assistant to the Artistic Director
edit
Ballet Masters
edit
Company Teachers
edit
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Principal Character Dancers
edit
|
|
|
|
Principal Dancers
edit
|
|
|
|
|
Soloists
edit
|
|
|
|
|
Music Director and Principal Conductor
editSweet Adeline (musical)
editOriginal cast
editCaryl Bergman Nellie Emil's younger daughter Charles Butterworth Ruppert Day Violet Carlson Dot a piccolo player Thomas Chadwick The Sultan
Sergeant Malone
Robert Chisholm James Day Robert Fischer Emil Schmidt Irene Franklin Lulu Ward an actress Gus Gus Max Hoffmann, Jr. Tom Martin first mate, S.S. St. Paul Robert Emmett Keane Dan Ward a theatrical advance agent Len Mence Sam Herzig a theatrical manager Helen Morgan Addie Emil's older daughter John Seymour Sid Barnett a composer and orchestra leader Will Will Irving Arnold Gentleman of the Ensemble Helen Ault Maizie O'Rourke
Girl of the Gay Nineties
Sally Bates Hester Van Doren Day Peter Bender Willie Day Louise Bernhardt Girl of the Gay Nineties Harriet Britton Girl of the Gay Nineties Dorothy Brown Girl of the Gay Nineties Lillian Burke Girl of the Gay Nineties John Campbell Gentleman of the Ensemble Mary Carney Girl of the Gay Nineties Kaye Carroll Girl of the Gay Nineties Don Carter Gentleman of the Ensemble Louise Chowning Girl of the Gay Nineties Gertrude Clave George Smith's Girl Band Nore Cliff Girl of the Gay Nineties Aida Conkey Girl of the Gay Nineties Don Cortez Gentleman of the Ensemble Myrtle Cox Girl of the Gay Nineties Wally Crisham Eddie man of all-work around theatre Betty Croke Girl of the Gay Nineties Nonie Dale Girl of the Gay Nineties Joseph Davidenko Gentleman of the Ensemble Fanille Davies Girl of the Gay Nineties George Djimos The Jester Frank Dobert Gentleman of the Ensemble Lynn Eldridge Gentleman of the Ensemble Harry Esmond Old Sport La Vergne Evans Girl of the Gay Nineties Jackson Fairchild Young Blood
Gentleman of the Ensemble
Polly Fisher George Smith's Girl Band Frances Flanigan George Smith's Girl Band Christine Gallagher Girl of the Gay Nineties Helene Gardner Girl of the Gay Nineties Mildred Gethins Girl of the Gay Nineties Pauline Gorin Lena
Girl of the Gay Nineties
Jack Gray Doctor Evelyn Hannons Girl of the Gay Nineties Muriel Harrison Girl of the Gay Nineties Dorothy Hiller Girl of the Gay Nineties Jerry Jarnagin Mr. Gilhooley Helen Kelly Girl of the Gay Nineties Grace La Rue Girl of the Gay Nineties Evelyn Laurie Girl of the Gay Nineties Gloria Le Bow Girl of the Gay Nineties Louis Leo On the Ladder Borrah Levinson George Andy Lieb Gentleman of the Ensemble Madge MacAnally Girl of the Gay Nineties George Magis Doc
Gentleman of the Ensemble
Marion Martin Girl of the Gay Nineties Helen McDonald Girl of the Gay Nineties Peggy Messinger Girl of the Gay Nineties Paul Moran Gentleman of the Ensemble Billy Murray Gentleman of the Ensemble Laura Mutch George Smith's Girl Band Gladys Nelson Girl of the Gay Nineties Ruby Nevins Girl of the Gay Nineties Ruth Penery Girl of the Gay Nineties George Raymond August a student
Gentleman of the Ensemble
Joe Reilly Props Josephine Rice George Smith's Girl Band Tom Rider A Cabby
Gentleman of the Ensemble
Robertina Robertson Girl of the Gay Nineties Gustave Salzer Gus, 1st violin Len Saxon Gentleman of the Ensemble Madgio Schmylee Girl of the Gay Nineties Martin Sheppard Gentleman of the Ensemble
Colonel
William Sheppard Head Carpenter
Gabe Case
proprietor, McGowan's Pass Tavern Bob Shutta Gentleman of the Ensemble Alexis Sokoloff Gentleman of the Ensemble Baum Sturz Girl of the Gay Nineties Bertha Mae Swan Girl of the Gay Nineties Morris Tepper Gentleman of the Ensemble Mabel Thilbault George Smith's Girl Band Tom Thompson Orderly
Gentleman of the Ensemble
Jim Thornton Jim Thornton Elenore Tierney Girl of the Gay Nineties Cyrilla Tuite Girl of the Gay Nineties Emily Van Hoven Girl of the Gay Nineties Genevieve Van Hoven Girl of the Gay Nineties Robert Vernon Gentleman of the Ensemble Efim Vitis Gentleman of the Ensemble Lorena Walcott Girl of the Gay Nineties Ben Wells Gabe Case proprietor, McGowan's Pass Tavern Marion Young Girl of the Gay Nineties
replacements or uncredited on opening night
editTom Rider Eddie Ben Wells Colonel
The Saint-Petersburg State Academic Ballet Theatre, also known as the '"St. Petersburg State Ballet Theatre"', was founded as the first Theatre of Ballet in Russia under the management of the People's Artist of Russia, Professor Peter Gusev in 1966. P. Gusev, the notable artist and balletmaster graduated from the Petrograd Choreographic Academy in 1922 and was an artist of Leningrad Opera and Ballet Theatre until 1935. From 1940-1950 he directed the Kirov Ballet, then (1958-1960) was the organizer of the Ballet Theatre in Peking, ballet schools, in Shanghai and Guanchjou. From 1960-1966 P. Gusev worked as a balletmaster in the Maly Opera and Ballet Theatre and then in Novosibirsk Theatre. Therefore, before the creation of the Saint-Petersburg Ballet he had already time to prove himself as a brilliant choreographer of Ballet Art Schools.
In 1969 the post of Artistic Director and Manager was occupied by the prominent choreographer, outstanding balletmaster, Honoured Artist of Russia and State Prize Laureate - Leonid Jacobson. The best-known of his ballets are: Schurale, Spartacus, The Bug and others. But the leading form of Jacobson's balletmaster art was choreographic miniature. He demonstrated a mastery of different epochs and styles, producing numerous imaginative and original ballets on a wide variety of themes from ancient monuments to romantic ballets and finally to the spontaneous expressiveness of our day. Along with this, he used for his miniatures the music of the greatest composers: Grieg (The Hunter and the Bird), Tchaikovsky (Reflection), Strauss (Wien Valtz), Stravinsky (Troika), Debussy, Prokofiev and Berg (Rodin) and many others.
Therefore, the original name of the Company is "Choreographic Miniatures". The first program of this exciting company was repeated with triumphant success over a hudred times to packed audiences in Saint-Petersburg and later all over Russia. In 1976 his friend and favourite dancer Askold Makarov became his successor.
Askold Makarov, the leading soloist of the Kirov ballet, whose talent was highly appreciated all over the world as well as in Russia, State Prize Laureate, Professor and Chairman of the Saint-Petersburg Union of performers. In 2001, after death of A.A.Makarov in December 2000, the post of Artistic Director was occupied by the famous choreographer, People's Artist of Russia, State Prize Laureate of Russia, Laureate to International Ballet competition - Yuri Petukhov. The company constantly extends its sphere of activity. Their creativity has been accumulated over the years, and the mastery of the high traditions of Russian Ballet is being passed on to a younger generation of artist, Russian and foreign. The ballet artist demonstrate their skill at the International Ballet Competitions. The Theatre administration regularly organizes the Master - Classes, which are visited by both professionals and amateurs of Ballet Arts. As regards the repertoire, it consists of both classical and modern ballet performances - more than 60 dance items and 20 one-act ballets.
Yury Petukhov - Artistic Director of the Saint - Petersburg Ballet Artistic Director of the Saint-Petersburg State Academic Ballet Theatre, People's Artist of Russia, State Prize Laureate of Russia, Laureate to International Ballet competition, Yury Petukhov was born on November 06, 1953.
After finishing the Perm choreographic school (teacher Y.i. Plaht), he began working in 1972 at the Perm theatre. Debuted in a party Franz. The first performer of parties: the Germann's double ("Three cards", 1973), Truffaldino ("The Servant of two misters", 1976, choreography by N. N. Boyarchikov), Adam ("Creation of the world", 1974), choreography by M. M. Gasiev). Since 1979 works at Maly opera and ballet theatre. The first performer of parties in ballets put by Boyarchikov: Gerakl, Franz ("Robbers", 1982), Makbet ("Makbet", 1984), the choreographic compositions by L. S. Lebedev: "Two dances in style gagaku" (1988), "Illusion" (1989), "Vii" (1990). The job with this balletmaster detailed has opened the person of the actor.
Possession by gift of transformation allowing him to create the contrast, the emotional Images, possession of masterly technique of classical have ensured to him all the leading roles of both the classical and modern choreographical repertoires. He performed the following leading roles: Albert ("Giselle"), Zigfrid ("Swan Lake"), Kolen; Peter ("Halt of Cavalry"), Boris ("King Boris"), Podkolesin ("Marriage"), Grigoryi ("Silent Don"), Foreman ("Foreman and Margarita"), Snake-charmer ("Kleopatra"), Vision of a rose ("Vision of Rose"), Basill, Desire, Prince ("Nutcracker"), Romeo, Mercuzio and Benvolio ("Romeo and Juletta"), Orfei ("Orfei and Evridika").
Being by one of the most interesting performer of a modern choreography he continues to create new. After graduating in 1989 balletmaster's part of the Leningrad Conservatory he puts ballets on stages of different theatres: "Fly cranes" (1985, Maly Theatre), "Don Quixote" (1987, theatre "Estonia"), "White knight" (Maly theatre), "Karmen" (Valencia), "Cinderella", "Nutcracker" (Tokio) and small ballet: "Picture", "Drama three" and many others.
On 2 International Ballet competition Yury Petukhov has received 1 premium for the best choreography and 3 premium as a balletmaster and teachers throughout Russia and abroad.
Maria Iakchanova in 1993 has ended the Vaganova Ballet Academy and was accepted in the St.-Petersburg State Academic ballet theatre on competition, where works till the present time. The talented perspective ballerina, has high professionalism, musicality, thin art taste.
In her repertoire: "Chopiniana" - Mazurka, 7-th waltz, 11-th waltz, "Giselle" - Giselle, plug-in Pas De Deux, Zulma, Mirta; "Shurale" - Suimbike, "Swan Lake" - Odillia, Pas De Trois, "Don Quixote" - variation of 4 acts, Pas De Deux, "Corsair" - Pas De Deux, "Canteen-Keeper" - Pas De Six, Pas De Quatre music by V. Bellini, Waltz of D. Shostakovich and others. Participated in International ballet competition "Maia", 2 International ballet competition by S. Lifar. On the 3 International ballet competition by S. Lifar - Maria has won "silver" and rank of the Winner. Press and the spectators highly appreciate her skill.
After graduating from the Byelorussian Choreographic School in 1997, she has acted in the St.-Petersburg state academic ballet theatre headed by Askold Makarov, where she works till the present time and became one of the leading classical ballerinas of the company. She possesses great dance technique which is dynamic and full of temper and expression as well as ease in performing. Her creativity grows with each role. She is well professionally prepared, musicality. Having toured the world with great success, she performs the following parts in the company's repertoire: Odillia, Pas De Trois - "Swan Lake", Monna - "Giselle", Pas De Six from "La Vivandiere", "Pakhita", "Chopiniana", "Scheherezade" and concert ballets such as: "Merry Quartet", "Female Variations", "Passione" and many others.
Graduated from the Vaganova Ballet Academy in 1990. From 1990 till 1993, she performed with the State Opera and Ballet, State N. Rimsky-Korsakov Conservatoire. From 1993 till 1997 she worked in the Ballet theatre of V. Ganibalova. And since 1998 to this day works at the St.-Petersburg state academic ballet theatre headed by Askold Makarov and is now one of the leading taleted dancers of the company.
She possesses great dance technique which is dynamic and full of temper and expression as well as ease in performing. She is musicality and charm. Her performing has received critical both at home and abroad. Her repertoire includes: Pas De Trois, small swans - "Swan Lake", insert from "Giselle", Radish from "Chippolino", "Chopiniana", "Etudes about the foreman", and concert ballets: variations - "Exercise-XX", "Vienna waltz", Merry Quartet", "Village Don Juan", "Russian Souvenir", Female Variations", "The Snow Maiden" and many others.
Vera Ziganova has ended in 2001 the Vaganova Ballet Academy and in the same year was accepted in troupe of the St.-Petersburg State Academic ballet theatre. Young and talented ballerina. Has bright creative individuality and musicality. Her dance is always womanly and artistic, and the creativity grows with each role. Is engaged in all classical repertoir of theatre and in all programs of troupe. She performs the following parts in the company's repertoire: Pas De Trois, Brides - "Swan Lake", variation from "Pakhita", "Exercise-XX" and others.
Recently graduated from the Vaganova Ballet Academy (in 1998) and has since performed many solo parts in the following ballets. She is the young and perspective ballerina who possesses high level technique and classical lees and forms. Has musicality, her creativity grows with each role. Her repertoire includes: Scheherezade - "Scheherezade", Large swans, Hungarian dance - "Swan Lake", Grand Pas from "Pakhita", "Etudes about the foreman" and concert ballets: "Eternal Idol" and many others.
Graduated from the Vaganova Ballet Academy in 2001 and in the same year he was assepted in St.-Petersburg state academic ballet theatre, where worked in the present time. He joined the Saint-Petersburg Ballet immediately after graduation and has won the reputation of a hard-working and talented performer. He is a young and perspective dancer who possesses high level dance technique. In his repertoire: Insert, Mazurka - "Swan Lake", "Exercise-XX", and others.
Having graduated the Ufa choreographic school he was accepted in the Bashkir opera and ballet state theatre. And in 2001 was accepted in St.-Petersburg state academic ballet theatre. He is considered to be a young talented classical dancer and has temper, artistryn and high level dance technique. Having toured many countrie s with great success, his repertoire includes: Prince Siegfried, Spanish dance - "Swan Lake", and concert ballets: "Eternal idol", "Exercise-XX", and others.
Graduated from the Saratov choreographic school in 1982. From 1982 till 1990 he worked in Sverdlovsk Opera and Ballet theatre, from 1990 till 1991 in theatrical association "Pirouette", from 1991 till 1996 at the St.-Petersburg B. Eifman state ballet. And has been a member of the Saint-Petersburg company since 1996 till the present time. He currently performs all the major male roles of the company's repertoire, with a speciality in the more modern, free form works of the young Soviet Choreographers of the 70's and 80's. He is talented dancer, expressive and emotional actor. His repertoire includes: Rotbart, Spanish dance from "Swan Lake", Shah from "Scheherezede", Gans from "Giselle", Tomat - "Chippolino", Spartacus from "Spartacus" and concert ballets: "Dances for the Queen" and many others. For many years he has represented Russian ballet choreographic art in many countries of the world with great success.
- Alla Kornaushenkova
- Manager of Promotional Department
- 15 Mayakovsky
- Saint-Petersburg,
- 191014 Russia
|
+7-812-2726181
|
|
c. 420 BC -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This translation by Ian Johnston of Malaspina University-College, Nanaimo, BC, has certain copyright restrictions. For information please use the following link: Copyright. For comments or question please contact Ian Johnston. This translation is available in the form of a published paperback book from Richer Resources Publications. This text is available in the form of a Publisher file for those who would like to print it off as a small book. There is no charge for these files. For details, please use the following link: Publisher files. For a catalogue of other translations, please use the following link: Index -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Translator's Note In the following text the numbers in square brackets refer to the Greek text; the numbers without brackets refer to the English text. The asterisks indicate links to explanatory notes inserted by the translator. The translator would like to acknowledge the invaluable help provided by Sir Richard Jebb’s translation and commentary. For an introductory lecture on Oedipus the King, please use the following link: Oedipus. Background Note Sophocles (495 BC-405 BC) was a famous and successful Athenian writer of tragedies in his own lifetime. Of his 120 plays, only 7 have survived. Oedipus the King, also called Oedipus Tyrannos or Oedipus Rex, written around 420 BC, has long been regarded not only as his finest play but also as the purest and most powerful expression of Greek tragic drama. Oedipus, a stranger to Thebes, became king of the city after the murder of king Laius, about fifteen or sixteen years before the start of the play. He was offered the throne because he was successful in saving the city from the Sphinx, an event referred to repeatedly in the text of the play. He married Laius’ widow, Jocasta, and had four children with her, two sons, Eteocles and Polyneices, and two daughters, Antigone and Ismene. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Oedipus the King Dramatis Personae OEDIPUS: king of Thebes PRIEST: the high priest of Thebes CREON: Oedipus’ brother-in-law CHORUS of Theban elders TEIRESIAS: an old blind prophet BOY: attendant on Teiresias JOCASTA: wife of Oedipus, sister of Creon MESSENGER: an old man SERVANT: an old shepherd SECOND MESSENGER: a servant of Oedipus ANTIGONE: daughter of Oedipus and Jocasta, a child ISMENE: daughter of Oedipus and Jocasta, a child SERVANTS and ATTENDANTS on Oedipus and Jocasta [The action takes place in Thebes in front of the royal palace. The main doors are directly facing the audience. There are altars beside the doors. A crowd of citizens carrying branches decorated with laurel garlands and wool and led by the PRIEST has gathered in front of the altars, with some people sitting on the altar steps. OEDIPUS enters through the palace doors] OEDIPUS: My children, latest generation born from Cadmus, why are you sitting here with wreathed sticks in supplication to me, while the city fills with incense, chants, and cries of pain?* Children, it would not be appropriate for me to learn of this from any other source, so I have come in person—I, Oedipus, whose fame all men acknowledge. But you there, old man, tell me—you seem to be the one who ought to speak for those assembled here. 10 [10] What feeling brings you to me—fear or desire? You can be confident that I will help. I shall assist you willingly in every way. I would be a hard-hearted man indeed, if I did not pity suppliants like these. PRIEST: Oedipus, ruler of my native land, you see how people here of every age are crouching down around your altars, some fledglings barely strong enough to fly and others bent by age, with priests as well— 20 for I’m priest of Zeus—and these ones here, the pick of all our youth. The other groups sit in the market place with suppliant sticks or else in front of Pallas’ two shrines, [20] or where Ismenus prophesies with fire.* For our city, as you yourself can see, is badly shaken—she cannot raise her head above the depths of so much surging death. Disease infects fruit blossoms in our land, disease infects our herds of grazing cattle, 30 makes women in labour lose their children. And deadly pestilence, that fiery god, swoops down to blast the city, emptying the House of Cadmus, and fills black Hades [30] with groans and howls. These children and myself now sit here by your home, not because we think you’re equal to the gods. No. We judge you the first of men in what happens in this life and in our interactions with the gods. For you came here, to our Cadmeian city, 40 and freed us from the tribute we were paying to that cruel singer—and yet you knew no more than we did and had not been taught.* In their stories, the people testify how, with gods’ help, you gave us back our lives. So now, Oedipus, our king, most powerful [40] in all men’s eyes, we’re here as suppliants, all begging you to find some help for us, either by listening to a heavenly voice, or learning from some other human being. 50 For, in my view, men of experience provide advice which gives the best results. So now, you best of men, raise up our state. Act to consolidate your fame, for now, thanks to your eagerness in earlier days, the city celebrates you as its saviour. Don’t let our memory of your ruling here [50] declare that we were first set right again, and later fell. No. Restore our city, so that it stands secure. In those times past 60 you brought us joy—and with good omens, too. Be that same man today. If you’re to rule as you are doing now, it’s better to be king in a land of men than in a desert. An empty ship or city wall is nothing if no men share your life together there. OEDIPUS: My poor children, I know why you have come— I am not ignorant of what you yearn for. For I well know that you are ill, and yet, [60] sick as you are, there is not one of you 70 whose illness equals mine. Your agony comes to each one of you as his alone, a special pain for him and no one else. But the soul inside me sorrows for myself, and for the city, and for you—all together. You are not rousing me from a deep sleep. You must know I’ve been shedding many tears and, in my wandering thoughts, exploring many pathways. After a careful search I followed up the one thing I could find 80 and acted on it. So I have sent away my brother-in-law, son of Menoeceus, Creon, to Pythian Apollo’s shrine, [70] to learn from him what I might do or say to save our city. But when I count the days— the time he’s been away—I now worry what he’s doing. For he’s been gone too long, well past the time he should have taken. But when he comes, I’ll be a wicked man if I do not act on all the god reveals. 90 PRIEST: What you have said is most appropriate, for these men here have just informed me that Creon is approaching. OEDIPUS: Lord Apollo, [80] as he returns may fine shining fortune, bright as his countenance, attend on him. PRIEST: It seems the news he brings is good—if not, he would not wear that wreath around his head, a laurel thickly packed with berries.* OEDIPUS: We’ll know soon enough—he’s within earshot. [Enter CREON. OEDIPUS calls to him as he approaches] My royal kinsman, child of Menoeceus, 100 what message from the god do you bring us? CREON: Good news. I tell you even troubles difficult to bear will all end happily if events lead to the right conclusion. OEDIPUS: What is the oracle? So far your words inspire in me no confidence or fear. [90] CREON: If you wish to hear the news in public, I’m prepared to speak. Or we could step inside. OEDIPUS: Speak out to everyone. The grief I feel for these citizens is even greater 110 than any pain I feel for my own life. CREON: Then let me report what I heard from the god. Lord Phoebus clearly orders us to drive away the polluting stain this land has harboured— which will not be healed if we keep nursing it. OEDIPUS: What sort of cleansing? And this disaster— how did it happen? CREON: By banishment— [100] or atone for murder by shedding blood again. This blood brings on the storm which blasts our state. OEDIPUS: And the one whose fate the god revealed— 120 what sort of man is he? CREON: Before you came, my lord, to steer our ship of state, Laius ruled this land. OEDIPUS: I have heard that, but I never saw the man. CREON: Laius was killed. And now the god is clear: those murderers, he tells us, must be punished, whoever they may be. OEDIPUS: And where are they? In what country? Where am I to find a trace of this ancient crime? It will be hard to track. CREON: Here in Thebes, so said the god. What is sought is found, but what is overlooked escapes. 130 [110] OEDIPUS: When Laius fell in bloody death, where was he— at home, or in his fields, or in another land? CREON: He was abroad, on his way to Delphi— that’s what he told us. He began the trip, but did not return. OEDIPUS: Was there no messenger— no companion who made the journey with him and witnessed what took place—a person who might provide some knowledge men could use? CREON: They all died—except for one who was afraid and ran away. There was only one thing 140 he could inform us of with confidence about the things he saw. OEDIPUS: What was that? We might get somewhere if we had one fact— [120] we could find many things, if we possessed some slender hope to get us going. CREON: He told us it was robbers who attacked them— not just a single man, a gang of them— they came on with force and killed him. OEDIPUS: How would a thief have dared to do this, unless he had financial help from Thebes? 150 CREON: That’s what we guessed. But once Laius was dead we were in trouble, so no one sought revenge. OEDIPUS: When the ruling king had fallen in this way, what bad trouble blocked your path, preventing you from looking into it? CREON: It was the Sphinx— [130] she sang her enigmatic song and thus forced us to put aside something we found obscure to look into the urgent problem we now faced. OEDIPUS: Then I will start afresh, and once again shed light on darkness. It is most fitting 160 that Apollo demonstrates his care for the dead man, and worthy of you, too. And so, as is right, you will see how I work with you, seeking vengeance for this land, as well as for the god. This polluting stain I will remove, not for some distant friend, but for myself. For whoever killed this man may soon enough desire to turn his hand [140] in the same way against me, too, and kill me. Thus, in avenging Laius, I serve myself. 170 But now, my children, as quickly as you can stand up from these altar steps and take your suppliant branches. Someone must call the Theban people to assemble here. I’ll do everything I can. With the god’s help this will all come to light successfully, or else it will prove our common ruin. [OEDIPUS and CREON go into the palace] PRIEST: Let us get up, children. For this man has willingly declared just what we came for. And may Phoebus, who sent this oracle, 180 come as our saviour and end our sickness. [150] [The PRIEST and the CITIZENS leave. Enter the CHORUS OF THEBAN ELDERS] CHORUS: Oh sweet speaking voice of Zeus, you have come to glorious Thebes from golden Pytho— but what is your intent? My fearful heart twists on the rack and shakes with fear. O Delian healer, for whom we cry aloud in holy awe, what obligation will you demand from me, a thing unknown or now renewed with the revolving years? Immortal voice, O child of golden Hope, 190 speak to me! First I call on you, Athena the immortal, daughter of Zeus, and on your sister, too, [160] Artemis, who guards our land and sits on her glorious round throne in our market place, and on Phoebus, who shoots from far away. O you three guardians against death, appear to me! If before now you have ever driven off a fiery plague to keep away disaster 200 from the city and have banished it, then come to us this time as well! Alas, the pains I bear are numberless— my people now all sick with plague, our minds can find no weapons [170] to serve as our defence. Now the offspring of our splendid earth no longer grow, nor do our women crying out in labour get their relief from a living new-born child. As you can see—one by one they swoop away, 210 off to the shores of the evening god, like birds faster than fire which no one can resist. Our city dies—we’ve lost count of all the dead. Her sons lie in the dirt unpitied, unlamented. [180] Corpses spread the pestilence, while youthful wives and grey-haired mothers on the altar steps wail everywhere and cry in supplication, seeking to relieve their agonizing pain. Their solemn chants ring out— they mingle with the voices of lament. 220 O Zeus’ golden daughter, send your support and strength, your lovely countenance! And that ravenous Ares, god of killing, who now consumes me as he charges on with no bronze shield but howling battle cries, let him turn his back and quickly leave this land, with a fair following wind to carry him to the great chambers of Amphitrite* or inhospitable waves of Thrace. 230 For if destruction does not come at night, then day arrives to see it does its work. O you who wield that mighty flash of fire, [200] O father Zeus, with your lighting blast let Ares be destroyed! O Lyceian lord,* how I wish those arrows from the golden string of your bent bow with their all-conquering force would wing out to champion us against our enemy, and the blazing fires of Artemis, as well, 240 with which she races through the Lycian hills. I call the god who binds his hair with gold, the one whose name our country shares, [210] the one to whom the Maenads shout their cries, Dionysus with his radiant face—* may he come to us with his flaming torchlight, our ally against Ares, a god dishonoured among gods. [Enter OEDIPUS from the palace] OEDIPUS: You pray. But if you listen now to me, you’ll get your wish. Hear what I have to say 250 and treat your own disease—then you may hope to find relief from your distress. I shall speak as one who is a stranger to the story, a stranger to the crime. If I alone were tracking down this act, I’d not get far [220] without a single clue. That being the case, for it was after the event that I became a citizen of Thebes, I now proclaim the following to all of you Cadmeians: Whoever among you knows the man it was 260 who murdered Laius, son of Labdacus, I order him to reveal it all to me. And if the murderer’s afraid, I tell him to avoid the danger of the major charge by speaking out against himself. If so, he will be sent out from this land unhurt— and undergo no further punishment. If someone knows the killer is a stranger, [230] from some other state, let him not stay mute. As well as a reward, he’ll earn my thanks. 270 But if he remains quiet, if anyone, through fear, hides himself or a friend of his against my orders, here’s what I shall do— so listen to my words. For I decree that no one in this land, in which I rule as your own king, shall give that killer shelter or talk to him, whoever he may be, or act in concert with him during prayers, or sacrifice, or sharing lustral water.* [240] Ban him from your homes, every one of you, 280 for he is our pollution, as the Pythian god has just revealed to me. In doing this, I’m acting as an ally of the god and of dead Laius, too. And I pray whoever the man is who did this crime, one unknown person acting on his own or with companions, the worst of agonies will wear out his wretched life. I pray, too, that, if he should become a honoured guest in my own home and with my knowledge, 290 [250] I may suffer all those things I’ve just called down upon the killers. And I urge you now to make sure all these orders take effect, for my sake, for the sake of the god, and for our barren, godless, ruined land. For in this matter, even if a god were not prompting us, it would not be right for you to simply leave things as they are, and not to purify the murder of a man who was so noble and who was your king. 300 You should have looked into it. But now I possess the ruling power which Laius held in earlier days. I have his bed and wife— [260] she would have borne his children, if his hopes to have a son had not been disappointed. Children from a common mother might have linked Laius and myself. But as it turned out, fate swooped down onto his head. So now I will fight on his behalf, as if this matter concerned my father, and I will strive 310 to do everything I can to find him, the man who spilled his blood, and thus avenge the son of Labdacus and Polydorus, of Cadmus and Agenor from old times.* As for those who do not follow what I urge, I pray the gods send them no fertile land, no, nor any children in their women’s wombs— [270] may they all perish in our present fate or one more hateful still. To you others, you Cadmeians who support my efforts, 320 may Justice, our ally, and all the gods attend on us with kindness always. CHORUS LEADER: My lord, since you extend your oath to me, I will say this. I am not the murderer, nor can I tell you who the killer is. As for what you’re seeking, it’s for Apollo, who launched this search, to state who did it. OEDIPUS: That is well said. But no man has power [280] to force the gods to speak against their will. CHORUS LEADER: May I then suggest what seems to me 330 the next best course of action? OEDIPUS: You may indeed, and if there is a third course, too, don’t hesitate to let me know. CHORUS LEADER: Our lord Teiresias, I know, can see into things, like lord Apollo. From him, my king, a man investigating this might well find out the details of the crime. OEDIPUS: I’ve taken care of that—it’s not something I could overlook. At Creon’s urging, I have dispatched two messengers to him and have been wondering for some time now 340 why he has not come. CHORUS LEADER: Apart from that, there are rumours—but inconclusive ones [290] from a long time ago. OEDIPUS: What kind of rumours? I’m looking into every story. CHORUS LEADER: It was said that Laius was killed by certain travellers. OEDIPUS: Yes, I heard as much. But no one has seen the one who did it. CHORUS LEADER: Well, if the killer has any fears, once he hears your curses on him, he will not hold back, for they are serious. OEDIPUS: When a man has no fear of doing the act, 350 he’s not afraid of words. CHORUS LEADER: No, not in the case where no one stands there to convict him. But at last Teiresias is being guided here, our god-like prophet, in whom the truth resides more so than in all other men. [Enter TEIRESIAS led by a small BOY] OEDIPUS: Teiresias, [300] you who understand all things—what can be taught and what cannot be spoken of, what goes on in heaven and here on the earth—you know, although you cannot see, how sick our state is. And so we find in you alone, great seer, 360 our shield and saviour. For Phoebus Apollo, in case you have not heard the news, has sent us an answer to our question: the only cure for this infecting pestilence is to find the men who murdered Laius and kill them or else expel them from this land as exiles. So do not withhold from us your prophecies [310] in voices of the birds or by some other means. Save this city and yourself. Rescue me. Deliver us from this pollution by the dead. 370 We are in your hands. For a mortal man the finest labour he can do is help with all his power other human beings. TEIRESIAS: Alas, alas! How dreadful it can be to have wisdom when it brings no benefit to the man possessing it. This I knew, but it had slipped my mind. Otherwise, I would not have journeyed here. OEDIPUS: What’s wrong? You’ve come, but seem so sad. TEIRESIAS: Let me go home. You must bear your burden 380 [320] to the very end, and I will carry mine, if you’ll agree with me. OEDIPUS: What you are saying is not customary and shows little love toward the city state which nurtured you, if you deny us your prophetic voice. TEIRESIAS: I see your words are also out of place. I do not speak for fear of doing the same. OEDIPUS: If you know something, then, by heaven, do not turn away. We are your suppliants— all of us—we bend our knees to you. 390 TEIRESIAS: You are all ignorant. I will not reveal the troubling things inside me, which I can call your grief as well. OEDIPUS: What are you saying? [330] Do you know and will not say? Do you intend to betray me and destroy the city? TEIRESIAS: I will cause neither me nor you distress. Why do you vainly question me like this? You will not learn a thing from me. OEDIPUS: You most disgraceful of disgraceful men! You’d move something made of stone to rage! 400 Will you not speak out? Will your stubbornness never have an end? TEIRESIAS: You blame my temper, but do not see the one which lives within you. Instead, you are finding fault with me. OEDIPUS: What man who listened to these words of yours would not be enraged—you insult the city! [340] TEIRESIAS: Yet events will still unfold, for all my silence. OEDIPUS: Since they will come, you must inform me. TEIRESIAS: I will say nothing more. Fume on about it, if you wish, as fiercely as you can. 410 OEDIPUS: I will. In my anger I will not conceal just what I make of this. You should know I get the feeling you conspired in the act, and played your part, as much as you could do, short of killing him with your own hands. If you could use your eyes, I would have said that you had done this work all by yourself. TEIRESIAS: Is that so? Then I would ask you to stand by [350] the very words which you yourself proclaimed and from now on not speak to me or these men. 420 For the accursed polluter of this land is you. OEDIPUS: You dare to utter shameful words like this? Do you think you can get away with it? TEIRESIAS: I am getting away with it. The truth within me makes me strong. OEDIPUS: Who taught you this? It could not have been your craft. TEIRESIAS: You did. I did not want to speak, but you incited me. OEDIPUS: What do you mean? Speak it again, so I can understand you more precisely. TEIRESIAS: Did you not grasp my words before, 430 or are you trying to test me with your question? [360] OEDIPUS: I did not fully understand your words. Tell me again. TEIRESIAS: I say that you yourself are the very man you’re looking for. OEDIPUS: That’s twice you’ve stated that disgraceful lie— something you’ll regret. TEIRESIAS: Shall I tell you more, so you can grow even more enraged? OEDIPUS: As much as you desire. It will be useless. TEIRESIAS: I say that with your dearest family, unknown to you, you are living in disgrace. 440 You have no idea how bad things are. OEDIPUS: Do you really think you can just speak out, say things like this, and still remain unpunished? TEIRESIAS: Yes, I can, if the truth has any strength. OEDIPUS: It does, but not for you. Truth is not in you— [370] for your ears, your mind, your eyes are blind! TEIRESIAS: You are a wretched fool to use harsh words which all men soon enough will use to curse you. OEDIPUS: You live in endless darkness of the night, so you can never injure me or any man 450 who can glimpse daylight. TEIRESIAS: It is not your fate to fall because of me. It’s up to Apollo to make that happen. He will be enough. OEDIPUS: Is this something Creon has devised, or is it your invention? TEIRESIAS: Creon is no threat. You have made this trouble on your own. OEDIPUS: O riches, ruling power, skill after skill [380] surpassing all in this life’s rivalries, how much envy you must carry with you, if, for this kingly office, which the city 460 gave me, for I did not seek it out, Creon, my old trusted family friend, has secretly conspired to overthrow me and paid off a double-dealing quack like this, a crafty bogus priest, who can only see his own advantage, who in his special art is absolutely blind. Come on, tell me [390] how you have ever given evidence of your wise prophecy. When the Sphinx, that singing bitch, was here, you said nothing 470 to set the people free. Why not? Her riddle was not something the first man to stroll along could solve—a prophet was required. And there the people saw your knowledge was no use— nothing from birds or picked up from the gods. But then I came, Oedipus, who knew nothing. Yet I finished her off, using my wits rather than relying on birds. That’s the man you want to overthrow, hoping, no doubt, to stand up there with Creon, once he’s king. 480 [400] But I think you and your conspirator in this will regret trying to usurp the state. If you did not look so old, you’d find the punishment your arrogance deserves. CHORUS LEADER: To us it sounds as if Teiresias has spoken in anger, and, Oedipus, you have done so, too. That’s not what we need. Instead we should be looking into this: How can we best carry out the god’s decree? TEIRESIAS: You may be king, but I have the right 490 to answer you—and I control that right, for I am not your slave. I serve Apollo, [410] and thus will never stand with Creon, signed up as his man. So I say this to you, since you have chosen to insult my blindness— you have your eyesight, and you do not see how miserable you are, or where you live, or who it is who shares your household. Do you know the family you come from? Without your knowledge you’ve become 500 the enemy of your own kindred, those in the world below and those up here, and the dreadful feet of that two-edged curse from father and mother both will drive you from this land in exile. Those eyes of yours, which now can see so clearly, will be dark. What harbour will not echo with your cries? [420] Where on Cithaeron* will they not soon be heard, once you have learned the truth about the wedding by which you sailed into this royal house— 510 a lovely voyage, but the harbour’s doomed? You’ve no idea of the quantity of other troubles which will render you and your own children equals. So go on— keep insulting Creon and my prophecies, for among all living mortals no one will be destroyed more wretchedly than you. OEDIPUS: Must I tolerate this insolence from him? Get out, and may the plague get rid of you! [430] Off with you! Now! Turn your back and go! 520 And don’t come back here to my home again. TEIRESIAS: I would not have come, but you summoned me. OEDIPUS: I did not know you would speak so stupidly. If I had, you would have waited a long time before I called you here. TEIRESIAS: I was born like this. You think I am a fool, but to your parents, the ones who made you, I was wise enough. OEDIPUS: Wait! My parents? Who was my father? TEIRESIAS: This day will reveal that and destroy you. OEDIPUS: Everything you speak is all so cryptic— 530 like a riddle. TEIRESIAS: Well, in solving riddles, [440] are you not the best there is? OEDIPUS: Mock my excellence, but you will find out I am truly great. TEIRESIAS: That quality of yours now ruins you. OEDIPUS: I do not care, if I have saved the city. TEIRESIAS: I will go now. Boy, lead me away. OEDIPUS: Yes, let him guide you back. You’re in the way. If you stay, you’ll just provoke me. Once you’re gone, you won’t annoy me further. TEIRESIAS: I’m going. But first I shall tell you why I came. 540 I do not fear the face of your displeasure— there is no way you can destroy me. I tell you, the man you have been seeking all this time, while proclaiming threats and issuing orders [450] about the one who murdered Laius— that man is here. According to reports, he is a stranger who lives here in Thebes. But he will prove to be a native Theban. From that change he will derive no pleasure. He will be blind, although he now can see. 550 He will be a poor, although he now is rich. He will set off for a foreign country, groping the ground before him with a stick. And he will turn out to be the brother of the children in his house—their father, too, both at once, and the husband and the son of the very woman who gave birth to them. He sowed the same womb as his father and murdered him. Go in and think on this. [460] If you discover I have spoken falsely, 560 you can say I lack all skill in prophecy. [Exit TEIRESIAS led off by the BOY. OEDIPUS turns and goes back into the palace] CHORUS: Speaking from the Delphic rock the oracular voice intoned a name. But who is the man, the one who with his blood-red hands has done unspeakable brutality? The time has come for him to flee— to move his powerful foot more swiftly than those hooves on horses riding on the storm. 570 Against him Zeus’ son now springs, [470] armed with lightning fire and leading on the inexorable and terrifying Furies.* From the snowy peaks of Mount Parnassus* the message has just flashed, ordering all to seek the one whom no one knows. Like a wild bull he wanders now, hidden in the untamed wood, through rocks and caves, alone with his despair on joyless feet, 580 keeping his distance from that doom uttered at earth’s central naval stone. [480] But that fatal oracle still lives, hovering above his head forever. That wise interpreter of prophecies stirs up my fears, unsettling dread. I cannot approve of what he said and I cannot deny it. I am confused. What shall I say? My hopes flutter here and there, with no clear glimpse of past or future. 590 I have never heard of any quarrelling, past or present, between those two, the house of Labdacus and Polybus’ son,* which could give me evidence enough to undermine the fame of Oedipus, as he seeks vengeance for the unsolved murder for the family of Labdacus. Apollo and Zeus are truly wise— they understand what humans do. But there is no sure way to ascertain 600 if human prophets grasp things any more than I do, although in wisdom one man [500] may leave another far behind. But until I see the words confirmed, I will not approve of any man who censures Oedipus, for it was clear when that winged Sphinx went after him he was a wise man then. We witnessed it. He passed the test and endeared himself to all the city. So in my thinking now 610 [510] he never will be guilty of a crime. [Enter CREON] CREON: You citizens, I have just discovered that Oedipus, our king, has levelled charges against me, disturbing allegations. That I cannot bear, so I have come here. In these present troubles, if he believes that he has suffered any injury from me, in word or deed, then I have no desire to continue living into ripe old age still bearing his reproach. For me 620 the injury produced by this report is no single isolated matter— [520] no, it has the greatest scope of all, if I end up being called a wicked man here in the city, a bad citizen, by you and by my friends. CHORUS LEADER: Perhaps he charged you spurred on by the rash power of his rage, rather than his mind’s true judgment. CREON: Was it publicized that my opinions convinced Teiresias to utter lies? 630 CHORUS LEADER: That’s what was said. I have no idea just what that meant. CREON: Did he accuse me and announce the charges with a steady gaze, in a normal state of mind? CHORUS LEADER: I do not know. [530] What those in power do I do not see. But he’s approaching from the palace— here he comes in person. [Enter OEDIPUS from the palace] OEDIPUS: You! How did you get here? Has your face grown so bold you now come to my own home—you who are obviously the murderer of the man whose house it was, 640 a thief who clearly wants to steal my throne? Come, in the name of all the gods, tell me this— did you plan to do it because you thought I was a coward or a fool? Or did you think I would not learn about your actions as they crept up on me with such deceit— or that, if I knew, I could not deflect them? This attempt of yours, is it not madness— [540] to chase after the king’s place without friends, without a horde of men, to seek a goal 650 which only gold or factions could attain? CREON: Will you listen to me? It’s your turn now to hear me make a suitable response. Once you know, then judge me for yourself. OEDIPUS: You are a clever talker. But from you I will learn nothing. I know you now— a troublemaker, an enemy of mine. CREON: At least first listen to what I have to say. OEDIPUS: There’s one thing you do not have to tell me— you have betrayed me. CREON: If you think being stubborn 660 and forgetting common sense is wise, then you’re not thinking as you should. [550] OEDIPUS: And if you think you can act to injure a man who is a relative of yours and escape without a penalty then you’re not thinking as you should. CREON: I agree. What you’ve just said makes sense. So tell me the nature of the damage you claim you’re suffering because of me. OEDIPUS: Did you or did you not persuade me 670 to send for Teiresias, that prophet? CREON: Yes. And I’d still give you the same advice. OEDIPUS: How long is it since Laius . . . [pauses] CREON: Did what? What’s Laius got to do with anything? OEDIPUS: . . . since Laius was carried off and disappeared, since he was killed so brutally? [560] CREON: That was long ago— many years have passed since then. OEDIPUS: At that time, was Teiresias as skilled in prophecy? CREON: Then, as now, he was honoured for his wisdom. OEDIPUS: And back then did he ever mention me? 680 CREON: No, never—not while I was with him. OEDIPUS: Did you not investigate the killing? CREON: Yes, of course we did. But we found nothing. OEDIPUS: Why did this man, this wise man, not speak up? CREON: I do not know. And when I don’t know something, I like to keep my mouth shut. OEDIPUS: You know enough— [570] at least you understand enough to say . . . CREON: What? If I really do know something I will not deny it. OEDIPUS: If Teiresias were not working with you, he would not name me 690 as the one who murdered Laius. CREON: If he says this, well, you’re the one who knows. But I think the time has come for me to question you the way that you’ve been questioning me. OEDIPUS: Ask all you want. You’ll not prove that I’m the murderer. CREON: Then tell me this— are you not married to my sister? OEDIPUS: Since you ask me, yes. I don’t deny that. CREON: And you two rule this land as equals? OEDIPUS: Whatever she desires, she gets from me. 700 [580] CREON: And am I not third, equal to you both? OEDIPUS: That’s what makes your friendship so deceitful. CREON: No, not if you think this through, as I do. First, consider this. In your view, would anyone prefer to rule and have to cope with fear rather than live in peace, carefree and safe, if his powers were the same? I, for one, have no natural desire to be king in preference to performing royal acts. The same is true of any other man 710 whose understanding grasps things properly. For now I get everything I want from you, [590] but without the fear. If I were king myself, I’d be doing many things against my will. So how can being a king be sweeter to me than royal power without anxiety? I am not yet so mistaken in my mind that I want things which bring no benefits. Now I greet all men, and they all welcome me. Those who wish to get something from you 720 now flatter me, since I’m the one who brings success in what they want. So why would I give up such benefits for something else? A mind that’s wise will not turn treacherous. [600] It’s not my nature to love such policies. And if another man pursued such things, I’d not work with him. I couldn’t bear to. If you want proof of this, then go to Delphi. Ask the prophet if I brought back to you exactly what was said. At that point, 730 if you discover I have planned something, that I’ve conspired with Teiresias, then arrest me and have me put to death, not just on your own authority, but on mine as well, a double judgment. Do not condemn me on an unproved charge. It's not fair to judge these things by guesswork, to assume bad men are good or good men bad. [610] In my view, to throw away a noble friend is like a man who parts with his own life, 740 the thing most dear to him. Give it some time. Then you’ll see clearly, since only time can fully validate a man who’s true. A bad man is exposed in just one day. CHORUS LEADER: For a man concerned about being killed, my lord, he has spoken eloquently. Those who are unreliable give rash advice. OEDIPUS: If some conspirator moves against me, in secret and with speed, I must be quick to make my counter plans. If I just rest 750 and wait for him to act, then he’ll succeed [620] in what he wants to do, and I’ll be finished. CREON: What do you want—to exile me from here? OEDIPUS: No. I want you to die, not just run off— so I can demonstrate what envy means. CREON: You are determined not to change your mind or listen to me? OEDIPUS: You’ll not convince me, for there’s no way that I can trust you. CREON: I can see that you’ve become unbalanced.* OEDIPUS: I’m sane enough to defend my interests. 760 CREON: You should be protecting mine as well. OEDIPUS: But you’re a treacherous man. It’s your nature. CREON: What if you are wrong? OEDIPUS: I still have to govern. CREON: Not if you do it badly. OEDIPUS: Oh Thebes— my city! CREON: I have some rights in Thebes as well— [630] it is not yours alone. [The palace doors open] CHORUS LEADER: My lords, an end to this. I see Jocasta coming from the palace, and just in time. With her assistance you should bring this quarrel to a close. [Enter JOCASTA from the palace] JOCASTA: You foolish men, why are you arguing 770 in such a silly way? With our land so sick, are you not ashamed to start a private fight? You, Oedipus, go in the house, and you, Creon, return to yours. Why blow up a trivial matter into something huge? CREON: Sister, your husband Oedipus intends to punish me in one of two dreadful ways— [640] to banish me from my fathers’ country or arrest me and then have me killed. OEDIPUS: That’s right. Lady, I caught him committing treason, 780 conspiring against my royal authority. CREON: Let me not prosper but die a man accursed, if I have done what you accuse me of. JOCASTA: Oedipus, for the sake of the gods, trust him in this. Respect that oath he made before all heaven— do it for my sake and for those around you. CHORUS LEADER: I beg you, my lord, consent to this— agree with her. [650] OEDIPUS: What is it then you’re asking me to do? CHORUS LEADER: Pay Creon due respect. He has not been foolish in the past, and now 790 that oath he’s sworn has power. OEDIPUS: Are you aware just what you’re asking? CHORUS LEADER: Yes. I understand. OEDIPUS: Then tell me exactly what you’re saying. CHORUS LEADER: You should not accuse a friend of yours and thus dishonour him with a mere story which may not be true, when he’s sworn an oath and therefore could be subject to a curse. OEDIPUS: By this point you should clearly understand, when you request this, what you are doing— seeking to exile me from Thebes or kill me. 800 CHORUS LEADER: No, no, by sacred Helios, the god [660] whose stands pre-eminent before the rest, may I die the most miserable of deaths, abandoned by the gods and by my friends, if I have ever harboured such a thought! But the destruction of our land wears down the troubled heart within me—and so does this, if you two add new problems to the ones which have for so long been afflicting us. OEDIPUS: Let him go, then, even though it’s clear 810 I must be killed or sent from here in exile, forced out in disgrace. I have been moved [670] to act compassionately by what you said, not by Creon’s words. But if he stays here, he will be hateful to me. CREON: You are obstinate— obviously unhappy to concede, and when you lose your temper, you go too far. But men like that find it most difficult to tolerate themselves. In that there’s justice. OEDIPUS: Why not go—just leave me alone? CREON: I’ll leave— 820 since I see you do not understand me. But these men here know I’m a reasonable man. [Exit CREON away from the palace, leaving OEDIPUS and JOCASTA and the CHORUS on stage] CHORUS LEADER: Lady, will you escort our king inside? JOCASTA: Yes, once I have learned what happened here. [680] CHORUS LEADER: They talked— their words gave rise to uninformed suspicions, an all-consuming lack of proper justice. JOCASTA: From both of them? CHORUS LEADER: Yes. JOCASTA: What caused it? CHORUS LEADER: With our country already in distress, it is enough, it seems to me, enough to leave things as they are. OEDIPUS: Now do you see 830 the point you’ve reached thanks to your noble wish to dissolve and dull my firmer purpose? CHORUS LEADER: My lord, I have declared it more than once, [690] so you must know it would have been quite mad if I abandoned you, who, when this land, my cherished Thebes, was in great trouble, set it right again and who, in these harsh times which now consume us, should prove a trusty guide. JOCASTA: By all the gods, my king, let me know why in this present crisis you now feel 840 such unremitting rage. OEDIPUS: To you I’ll speak, lady, [700] since I respect you more than I do these men. It’s Creon’s fault. He conspired against me. JOCASTA: In this quarrel what was said? Tell me. OEDIPUS: Creon claims that I’m the murderer— that I killed Laius. JOCASTA: Does he know this first hand, or has he picked it up from someone else? OEDIPUS: No. He set up that treasonous prophet. What he says himself sounds innocent. JOCASTA: All right, forget about those things you’ve said. 850 Listen to me, and ease your mind with this— no human being has skill in prophecy. I’ll show you why with this example. [710] King Laius once received a prophecy. I won’t say it came straight from Apollo, but it was from those who do assist the god. It said Laius was fated to be killed by a child conceived by him and me. Now, at least according to the story, one day Laius was killed by foreigners, 860 by robbers, at a place where three roads meet. Besides, before our child was three days old, Laius fused his ankles tight together and ordered other men to throw him out on a mountain rock where no one ever goes. And so Apollo’s plan that he’d become [720] the one who killed his father didn’t work, and Laius never suffered what he feared, that his own son would be his murderer, although that’s what the oracle had claimed. 870 So don’t concern yourself with prophecies. Whatever gods intend to bring about they themselves make known quite easily. OEDIPUS: Lady, as I listen to these words of yours, my soul is shaken, my mind confused . . . JOCASTA: Why do you say that? What’s worrying you? OEDIPUS: I thought I heard you say that Laius was murdered at a place where three roads meet. [730] JOCASTA: That’s what was said and people still believe. OEDIPUS: Where is this place? Where did it happen? 880 JOCASTA: In a land called Phocis. Two roads lead there— one from Delphi and one from Daulia. OEDIPUS: How long is it since these events took place? JOCASTA: The story was reported in the city just before you took over royal power here in Thebes. OEDIPUS: Oh Zeus, what have you done? What have you planned for me? JOCASTA: What is it, Oedipus? Why is your spirit so troubled? OEDIPUS: Not yet, [740] no questions yet. Tell me this—Laius, how tall was he? How old a man? 890 JOCASTA: He was big—his hair was turning white. In shape he was not all that unlike you. OEDIPUS: The worse for me! I may have just set myself under a dreadful curse without my knowledge! JOCASTA: What do you mean? As I look at you, my king, I start to tremble. OEDIPUS: I am afraid, full of terrible fears the prophet sees. But you can reveal this better if you now will tell me one thing more. JOCASTA: I’m shaking, but if you ask me, I will answer you. 900 OEDIPUS: Did Laius have a small escort with him [750] or a troop of soldiers, like a royal king? JOCASTA: Five men, including a herald, went with him. A carriage carried Laius. OEDIPUS: Alas! Alas! It’s all too clear! Lady, who told you this? JOCASTA: A servant—the only one who got away. He came back here. OEDIPUS: Is there any chance he’s in our household now? JOCASTA: No. Once he returned and understood that you had now assumed the power of slaughtered Laius, 910 he clasped my hands, begged me to send him off [760] to where our animals graze out in the fields, so he could be as far away as possible from the sight of town. And so I sent him. He was a slave but he'd earned my gratitude. He deserved an even greater favour. OEDIPUS: I’d like him to return back here to us, and quickly, too. JOCASTA: That can be arranged— but why’s that something you would want to do? OEDIPUS: Lady, I’m afraid I may have said too much. 920 That’s why I want to see him here in front of me. JOCASTA: Then he will be here. But now, my lord, I deserve to learn why you are so distressed. [770] OEDIPUS: My forebodings now have grown so great I will not keep them from you, for who is there I should confide in rather than in you about such a twisted turn of fortune. My father was Polybus of Corinth, my mother Merope, a Dorian. There I was regarded as the finest man 930 in all the city, until, as chance would have it, something really astonishing took place, though it was not worth what it caused me to do. At a dinner there a man who was quite drunk from too much wine began to shout at me, claiming I was not my father’s real son. [780] That troubled me, but for a day at least I said nothing, though it was difficult. The next day I went to ask my parents, my father and my mother. They were angry 940 at the man who had insulted them this way, so I was reassured. But nonetheless, the accusation always troubled me— the story had become well known all over. And so I went in secret off to Delphi. I didn’t tell my mother or my father. Apollo sent me back without an answer, so I didn’t learn what I had come to find. But when he spoke he uttered monstrous things, [790] strange terrors and horrific miseries— 950 it was my fate to defile my mother’s bed, to bring forth to men a human family that people could not bear to look upon, to murder the father who engendered me. When I heard that, I ran away from Corinth. From then on I thought of it just as a place beneath the stars. I went to other lands, so I would never see that prophecy fulfilled, the abomination of my evil fate. In my travelling I came across that place 960 in which you say your king was murdered. And now, lady, I will tell you the truth. [800] As I was on the move, I passed close by a spot where three roads meet, and in that place I met a herald and a horse-drawn carriage. Inside there was a man like you described. The guide there tried to force me off the road— and the old man, too, got personally involved. In my rage, I lashed out at the driver, who was shoving me aside. The old man, 970 seeing me walking past him in the carriage, kept his eye on me, and with his double whip struck me on my head, right here on top. Well, I retaliated in good measure— [810] I hit him a quick blow with the staff I held and knocked him from his carriage to the road. He lay there on his back. Then I killed them all. If that stranger was somehow linked to Laius, who is now more unfortunate than me? What man could be more hateful to the gods? 980 No stranger and no citizen can welcome him into their lives or speak to him. Instead, they must keep him from their doors, a curse I laid upon myself. With these hands of mine, [820] these killer’s hands, I now contaminate the dead man’s bed. Am I not depraved? Am I not utterly abhorrent? Now I must fly into exile and there, a fugitive, never see my people, never set foot in my native land again— 990 or else I must get married to my mother and kill my father, Polybus, who raised me, the man who gave me life. If anyone claimed this came from some malevolent god, would he not be right? O you gods, you pure, blessed gods, may I not see that day! [830] Let me rather vanish from the sight of men, before I see a fate like that roll over me. CHORUS LEADER: My lord, to us these things are ominous. But you must sustain your hope until you hear 1000 the servant who was present at the time. OEDIPUS: I do have some hope left, at least enough to wait for the man we’ve summoned from the fields. JOCASTA: Once he comes, what do you hope to hear? OEDIPUS: I’ll tell you. If we discover what he says matches what you say, then I’ll escape disaster. [840] JOCASTA: What was so remarkable in what I said? OEDIPUS: You said that in his story the man claimed Laius was murdered by a band of thieves. If he still says that there were several men, 1010 then I was not the killer, since one man could never be mistaken for a crowd. But if he says it was a single man, then I’m the one responsible for this. JOCASTA: Well, that’s certainly what he reported then. He cannot now withdraw what he once said. The whole city heard him, not just me alone. [850] But even if he changes that old news, he cannot ever demonstrate, my lord, that Laius’ murder fits the prophecy. 1020 For Apollo clearly said the man would die at the hands of an infant born from me. Now, how did that unhappy son of ours kill Laius, when he’d perished long before? So as far as these oracular sayings go, I would not look for confirmation anywhere. OEDIPUS: You’re right in what you say. But nonetheless, send for that peasant. Don’t fail to do that. [860] JOCASTA: I’ll call him here as quickly as I can. Let’s go inside. I’ll not do anything 1030 which does not meet with your approval. [OEDIPUS and JOCASTA go into the palace together] CHORUS: I pray fate still finds me worthy, demonstrating piety and reverence in all I say and do—in everything our loftiest traditions consecrate, those laws engendered in the heavenly skies, whose only father is Olympus. They were not born from mortal men, nor will they sleep and be forgotten. [870] In them lives an ageless mighty god. 1040 Insolence gives birth to tyranny— that insolence which vainly crams itself and overflows with so much stuff beyond what’s right or beneficial, that once it’s climbed the highest rooftop, it’s hurled down by force—such a quick fall there’s no safe landing on one’s feet. But I pray the god never will abolish the rivalry so beneficial to our state. [880] That god I will hold on to always, 1050 the one who stands as our protector.* But if a man conducts himself disdainfully in what he says and does, and manifests no fear of righteousness, no reverence for the statues of the gods, may miserable fate seize such a man for his disastrous arrogance, if he does not behave with justice [890] when he strives to benefit himself, appropriates all things impiously, 1060 and, like a fool, profanes the sacred. What man is there who does such things who can still claim he will ward off the arrow of the gods aimed at his heart? If such actions are considered worthy, why should we dance to honour god? No longer will I go in reverence to the sacred stone, earth’s very centre, or to the temple at Abae or Olympia, [900] if these prophecies fail to be fulfilled 1070 and manifest themselves to mortal men. But you, all-conquering, all-ruling Zeus, if by right those names belong to you, let this not evade you and your ageless might. For ancient oracles which dealt with Laius are withering—men now set them aside. Nowhere is Apollo honoured publicly, and our religious faith is dying away. [910] [JOCASTA enters from the palace and moves to an altar to Apollo which stands outside the palace doors. She is accompanied by one or two SERVANTS] JOCASTA: You leading men of Thebes, I think it is appropriate for me to visit 1080 our god’s sacred shrine, bearing in my hands this garland and an offering of incense. For Oedipus has let excessive pain seize on his heart and does not understand what’s happening now by thinking of the past, like a man with sense. Instead he listens to whoever speaks to him of dreadful things. I can do nothing more for him with my advice, and so, Lycean Apollo, I come to you, who stand here beside us, a suppliant, 1090 [920] with offerings and prayers for you to find some way of cleansing what corrupts us. For now we are afraid, just like those who on a ship see their helmsman terrified. [JOCASTA sets her offerings on the altar. A MESSENGER enters, an older man] MESSENGER: Strangers, can you tell me where I find the house of Oedipus, your king? Better yet, if you know, can you tell me where he is? CHORUS LEADER: His home is here, stranger, and he’s inside. This lady is the mother of his children. MESSENGER: May her happy home always be blessed, 1100 for she is his queen, true mistress of his house. [930] JOCASTA: I wish the same for you, stranger. Your fine words make you deserve as much. But tell us now why you have come. Do you seek information, or do you wish to give us some report? MESSENGER: Lady, I have good news for your whole house— and for your husband, too. JOCASTA: What news is that? Where have you come from? MESSENGER: I’ve come from Corinth. I’ll give you my report at once, and then you will, no doubt, be glad, although perhaps 1110 you will be sad, as well. JOCASTA: What is your news? How can it have two such effects at once? MESSENGER: The people who live there, in the lands beside the Isthmus, will make him their king.* They have announced it. [940] JOCASTA: What are you saying? Is old man Polybus no longer king? MESSENGER: No. He’s dead and in his grave. JOCASTA: What? Has Oedipus’ father died? MESSENGER: Yes. If what I’m telling you is not the truth, then I deserve to die. JOCASTA: [to a servant] You there— 1120 go at once and tell this to your master. [SERVANT goes into the palace] Oh, you oracles of the gods, so much for you. Oedipus has for so long been afraid that he would murder him. He ran away. Now Polybus has died, killed by fate and not by Oedipus. [Enter OEDIPUS from the palace] OEDIPUS: Ah, Jocasta, my dearest wife, why have you summoned me [950] to leave our home and come out here? JOCASTA: You must hear this man, and as you listen, decide for yourself what these prophecies, 1130 these solemn proclamations from the gods, amount to. OEDIPUS: Who is this man? What report does he have for me? JOCASTA: He comes from Corinth, bringing news that Polybus, your father, no longer is alive. He’s dead. OEDIPUS: What? Stranger, let me hear from you in person. MESSENGER: If I must first report my news quite plainly, then I should let you know that Polybus has passed away. He’s gone. OEDIPUS: By treachery, or was it the result of some disease? 1140 [960] MESSENGER: With old bodies a slight weight on the scales brings final peace. OEDIPUS: Apparently his death was from an illness? MESSENGER: Yes, and from old age. OEDIPUS: Alas! Indeed, lady, why should any man pay due reverence to Apollo’s shrine, where his prophet lives, or to those birds which scream out overhead? For they foretold that I was going to murder my own father. But now he’s dead and lies beneath the earth, and I am here. I never touched my spear. 1150 Perhaps he died from a desire to see me— so in that sense I brought about his death. [970] But as for those prophetic oracles, they’re worthless. Polybus has taken them to Hades, where he lies. JOCASTA: Was I not the one who predicted this some time ago? OEDIPUS: You did, but then I was misguided by my fears. JOCASTA: You must not keep on filling up your heart with all these things. OEDIPUS: But my mother’s bed— I am afraid of that. And surely I should be? 1160 JOCASTA: Why should a man whose life seems ruled by chance live in fear—a man who never looks ahead, who has no certain vision of his future? It’s best to live haphazardly, as best one can. Do not worry you will wed your mother. [980] It’s true that in their dreams a lot of men have slept with their own mothers, but someone who ignores all this bears life more easily. OEDIPUS: Everything you say would be commendable, if my mother were not still alive. 1170 But since she is, I must remain afraid, although what you are saying is right. JOCASTA: But still, your father’s death is a great comfort to us. OEDIPUS: Yes, it is good, I know. But I do fear that lady—she is still alive. MESSENGER: This one you fear, what kind of woman is she? OEDIPUS: Old man, her name is Merope, wife to Polybus. [990] MESSENGER: And what in her makes you so fearful? OEDIPUS Stranger, a dreadful prophecy sent from the god. MESSENGER: Is it well known? Or something private, 1180 which another person has no right to know? OEDIPUS: No, no. It’s public knowledge. Loxias* once said it was my fate that I would marry my own mother and shed my father’s blood with my own hands. That’s why, many years ago, I left my home in Corinth. Things turned out well, but nonetheless it gives the sweetest joy to look into the eyes of one’s own parents. MESSENGER: And because you were afraid of her [1000] you stayed away from Corinth? OEDIPUS: And because 1190 I did not want to be my father’s killer. MESSENGER: My lord, since I came to make you happy, why don’t I relieve you of this fear? OEDIPUS: You would receive from me a worthy thanks. MESSENGER: That’s really why I came—so your return might prove a benefit to me back home. OEDIPUS: But I will never go back to my parents. MESSENGER: My son, it is so clear you have no idea what you are doing . . . OEDIPUS: [interrupting] What do you mean, old man? In the name of all the gods, tell me. 1200 MESSENGER: . . . if that’s the reason you’re a fugitive [1010] and won’t go home. OEDIPUS: I feared Apollo’s prophecy might reveal itself in me. MESSENGER: You were afraid you might become corrupted through your parents? OEDIPUS: That’s right, old man. That was my constant fear. MESSENGER: Are you aware these fears of yours are groundless? OEDIPUS: And why is that? If I was born their child . . . MESSENGER: Because you and Polybus were not related. OEDIPUS: What do you mean? Was not Polybus my father? MESSENGER: He was as much your father as this man here, 1210 no more, no less. OEDIPUS: But how can any man who means nothing to me be the same as my own father? MESSENGER: But Polybus was not your father, no more than I am. [1020] OEDIPUS: Then why did he call me his son? MESSENGER: If you must know, he received you many years ago as a gift. I gave you to him. OEDIPUS: He really loved me. How could he if I came from someone else? MESSENGER: Well, before you came, he had no children— that made him love you. OEDIPUS: When you gave me to him, 1220 had you bought me or found me by accident? MESSENGER: I found you in Cithaeron’s forest valleys. OEDIPUS: What were you doing wandering up there? MESSENGER: I was looking after flocks of sheep. OEDIPUS: You were a shepherd, just a hired servant roaming here and there? MESSENGER: Yes, my son, I was. But at that time I was the one who saved you. [1030] OEDIPUS: When you picked me up and took me off, what sort of suffering was I going through? MESSENGER: The ankles on your feet could tell you that. 1230 OEDIPUS: Ah, my old misfortune. Why mention that? MESSENGER: Your ankles had been pierced and tied together. I set them free. OEDIPUS: My dreadful mark of shame— I’ve had that scar there since I was a child. MESSENGER: That’s why fortune gave you your very name, the one which you still carry.* OEDIPUS: Tell me, in the name of heaven, why did my parents, my father or my mother, do this to me? MESSENGER: I don’t know. The man who gave you to me knows more of that than I do. OEDIPUS: You mean to say 1240 you got me from someone else? It wasn’t you who stumbled on me? MESSENGER: No, it wasn’t me. Another shepherd gave you to me. [1040] OEDIPUS: Who? Who was he? Do you know? Can you tell me any details, ones you know for certain? MESSENGER: Well, I think he was one of Laius’ servants— that’s what people said. OEDIPUS: You mean king Laius, the one who ruled this country years ago? MESSENGER: That’s right. He was one of the king’s shepherds. OEDIPUS: Is he still alive? Can I still see him? 1250 MESSENGER: You people live here. You’d best answer that. OEDIPUS: [turning to the Chorus] Do any of you here now know the man, this shepherd he describes? Have you seen him, either in the fields or here in Thebes? Answer me. It’s critical, time at last to find out what this means. [1050] CHORUS LEADER: The man he mentioned is, I think, the very peasant from the fields you wanted to see earlier. But of this Jocasta could tell more than anyone. OEDIPUS: Lady, do you know the man we sent for— 1260 just minutes ago—the one we summoned here? Is he the one this messenger refers to? JOCASTA: Why ask me what he means? Forget all that. There’s no point in trying to sort out what he said. OEDIPUS: With all these indications of the truth here in my grasp, I cannot end this now. I must reveal the details of my birth. JOCASTA: In the name of the gods, no! If you have [1060] some concern for your own life, then stop! Do not keep investigating this. 1270 I will suffer—that will be enough. OEDIPUS: Be brave. Even if I should turn out to be born from a shameful mother, whose family for three generations have been slaves, you will still have your noble lineage. JOCASTA: Listen to me, I beg you. Do not do this. OEDIPUS: I will not be convinced I should not learn the whole truth of what these facts amount to. JOCASTA: But I care about your own well being— what I tell you is for your benefit. 1280 OEDIPUS: What you’re telling me for my own good just brings me more distress. JOCASTA: Oh, you unhappy man! May you never find out who you really are! OEDIPUS: [to Chorus] Go, one of you, and bring that shepherd here. Leave the lady to enjoy her noble family. [1070] JOCASTA: Alas, you poor miserable man! There’s nothing more that I can say to you. And now I’ll never speak again. [JOCASTA runs into the palace] CHORUS LEADER: Why has the queen rushed off, Oedipus, so full of grief? I fear a disastrous storm 1290 will soon break through her silence. OEDIPUS: Then let it break, whatever it is. As for myself, no matter how base born my family, I wish to know the seed from where I came. Perhaps my queen is now ashamed of me and of my insignificant origin— she likes to play the noble lady. But I will never feel myself dishonoured. [1080] I see myself as a child of fortune— and she is generous, that mother of mine 1300 from whom I spring, and the months, my siblings, have seen me by turns both small and great. That’s how I was born. I cannot change to someone else, nor can I ever cease from seeking out the facts of my own birth. CHORUS: If I have any power of prophecy or skill in knowing things, then, by the Olympian deities, you, Cithaeron, at tomorrow’s moon [1090] will surely know that Oedipus 1310 pays tribute to you as his native land both as his mother and his nurse, and that our choral dance and song acknowledge you because you are so pleasing to our king. O Phoebus, we cry out to you— may our song fill you with delight! Who gave birth to you, my child? Which one of the immortal gods bore you to your father Pan, 1320 [1100] who roams the mountainsides? Was it some daughter of Apollo, the god who loves all country fields? Perhaps Cyllene’s royal king? Or was it the Bacchanalian god dwelling on the mountain tops who took you as a new-born joy from maiden nymphs of Helicon with whom he often romps and plays?* OEDIPUS: [looking out away from the palace] You elders, although I’ve never seen the man 1330 [1110] we’ve been looking for a long time now, if I had to guess, I think I see him. He’s coming here. He looks very old— as is appropriate, if he’s the one. And I know the people coming with him, servants of mine. But if you’ve seen him before, you’ll recognize him better than I will. CHORUS LEADER: Yes, I recognize the man. There’s no doubt. He worked for Laius—a trusty shepherd. [Enter SERVANT, an old shepherd] OEDIPUS: Stranger from Corinth, let me first ask you— 1340 is this the man you mentioned? MESSENGER: Yes, he is— he’s the man you see in front of you. [1120] OEDIPUS: You, old man, over here. Look at me. Now answer what I ask. Some time ago did you work for Laius? SERVANT: Yes, as a slave. But I was not bought. I grew up in his house. OEDIPUS: How did you live? What was the work you did? SERVANT: Most of my life I’ve spent looking after sheep. OEDIPUS: Where? In what particular areas? SERVANT: On Cithaeron or the neighbouring lands. 1350 OEDIPUS: Do you know if you came across this man anywhere up there? SERVANT: Doing what? What man do you mean? OEDIPUS: The man over here— this one. Have you ever run into him? [1130] SERVANT: Right now I can’t say I remember him. MESSENGER: My lord, that’s surely not surprising. Let me refresh his failing memory. I think he will remember all too well the time we spent around Cithaeron. He had two flocks of sheep and I had one. 1360 I was with him there for six months at a stretch, from early spring until the autumn season. In winter I’d drive my sheep down to my folds, and he’d take his to pens that Laius owned. Isn’t that what happened—what I’ve just said? [1140] SERVANT: You spoke the truth. But it was long ago. MESSENGER: All right, then. Now, tell me if you recall how you gave me a child, an infant boy, for me to raise as my own foster son. SERVANT: What? Why ask about that? MESSENGER: This man here, my friend, 1370 was that young child back then. SERVANT: Damn you! Can’t you keep quiet about it! OEDIPUS: Hold on, old man. Don’t criticize him. What you have said is more objectionable than his account. SERVANT: My noble master, what have I done wrong? OEDIPUS: You did not tell us of that infant boy, [1150] the one he asked about. SERVANT: That’s what he says, but he knows nothing—a useless busybody. OEDIPUS: If you won’t tell us of your own free will, once we start to hurt you, you will talk. 1380 SERVANT: By all the gods, don’t torture an old man! OEDIPUS: One of you there, tie up this fellow’s hands. SERVANT: Why are you doing this? It’s too much for me! What is it you want to know? OEDIPUS: That child he mentioned— did you give it to him? SERVANT: I did. How I wish I’d died that day! OEDIPUS: Well, you’re going to die if you don’t speak the truth. SERVANT: And if I do, there’s an even greater chance that I’ll be killed. OEDIPUS: It seems to me the man is trying to stall. [1160] SERVANT: No, no, I’m not. I’ve already told you— 1390 I did give him the child. OEDIPUS: Where did you get it? Did it come from your home or somewhere else? SERVANT: It was not mine—I got it from someone. OEDIPUS: Which of our citizens? Whose home was it? SERVANT: In the name of the gods, my lord, don’t ask! Please, no more questions! OEDIPUS: If I have to ask again, then you will die. SERVANT: The child was born in Laius’ house. OEDIPUS: From a slave or from some relative of his? SERVANT: Alas, what I’m about to say now . . . it’s horrible. OEDIPUS: And I’m about to hear it. 1400 [1170] But nonetheless I have to know this. SERVANT: If you must know, they said the child was his. But your wife inside the palace is the one who could best tell you what was going on. OEDIPUS: You mean she gave the child to you? SERVANT: Yes, my lord. OEDIPUS: Why did she do that? SERVANT: So I would kill it. OEDIPUS: That wretched woman was the mother? SERVANT: Yes. She was afraid of dreadful prophecies. OEDIPUS: What sort of prophecies? SERVANT: The story went that he would kill his father. OEDIPUS: If that was true, 1410 why did you give the child to this old man? SERVANT: I pitied the boy, master, and I thought he’d take the child off to a foreign land where he was from. But he rescued him, only to save him for the greatest grief of all. [1180] For if you’re the one this man says you are you know your birth carried an awful fate. OEDIPUS: Ah, so it all came true. It’s so clear now. O light, let me look at you one final time, a man who stands revealed as cursed by birth, 1420 cursed by my own family, and cursed by murder where I should not kill. [OEDIPUS moves into the palace] CHORUS: O generations of mortal men, how I count your life as scarcely living. What man is there, what human being, who attains a greater happiness [1190] than mere appearances, a joy which seems to fade away to nothing? Poor wretched Oedipus, your fate stands here to demonstrate for me 1430 how no mortal man is ever blessed. Here was a man who fired his arrows well— his skill was matchless—and he won the highest happiness in everything. For, Zeus, he slaughtered the hook-taloned Sphinx and stilled her cryptic song. For our state, he stood there like a tower against death, [1200] and from that moment, Oedipus, we have called you our king and honoured you above all other men, 1440 the one who rules in mighty Thebes. But now who is there whose story is more terrible to hear? Whose life has been so changed by trouble, by such ferocious agonies? Alas, for celebrated Oedipus, the same spacious place of refuge served you both as child and father, the place you entered as a new bridegroom. [1210] How could the furrow where your father planted, 1450 poor wretched man, have tolerated you in such silence for so long? Time, which watches everything and uncovered you against your will, now sits in judgment of that fatal marriage, where child and parent have been joined so long. O child of Laius, how I wish I’d never seen you—now I wail like one whose mouth pours forth laments. [1220] To tell it right, it was through you 1460 I found my life and breathed again, and then through you my eyesight failed. [The Second Messenger enters from the palace] SECOND MESSENGER: O you most honoured citizens of Thebes, what actions you will hear about and see, what sorrows you will bear, if, as natives here, you are still loyal to the house of Labdacus! I do not think the Ister or the Phasis rivers could cleanse this house. It conceals too much and soon will bring to light the vilest things, brought on by choice and not by accident.* 1470 [1230] What we do to ourselves brings us most pain. CHORUS LEADER: The calamities we knew about before were hard enough to bear. What can you say to make them worse? SECOND MESSENGER: I’ll waste no words— know this—noble Jocasta, our queen, is dead. CHORUS LEADER: That poor unhappy lady! How did she die? SECOND MESSENGER: She killed herself. You did not see it, so you'll be spared the worst of what went on. But from what I recall of what I saw you’ll learn how that poor woman suffered. 1480 [1240] She left here frantic and rushed inside, fingers on both hands clenched in her hair. She ran through the hall straight to her marriage bed. She went in, slamming both doors shut behind her and crying out to Laius, who’s been a corpse a long time now. She was remembering that child of theirs born many years ago— the one who killed his father, who left her to conceive cursed children with that son. She lay moaning by the bed, where she, 1490 poor woman, had given birth twice over— a husband from a husband, children from a child. [1250] How she died after that I don’t fully know. With a scream Oedipus came bursting in. He would not let us see her suffering, her final pain. We watched him charge around, back and forth. As he moved, he kept asking us to give him a sword, as he tried to find that wife who was no wife—whose mother’s womb had given birth to him and to his children. 1500 As he raved, some immortal power led him on— no human in the room came close to him. With a dreadful howl, as if someone [1260] had pushed him, he leapt at the double doors, bent the bolts by force out of their sockets, and burst into the room. Then we saw her. She was hanging there, swaying, with twisted cords roped round her neck. When Oedipus saw her, with a dreadful groan he took her body out of the noose in which she hung, and then, 1510 when the poor woman was lying on the ground— what happened next was a horrific sight— from her clothes he ripped the golden brooches she wore as ornaments, raised them high, and drove them deep into his eyeballs, [1270] crying as he did so: "You will no longer see all those atrocious things I suffered, the dreadful things I did! No. You have seen those you never should have looked upon, and those I wished to know you did not see. 1520 So now and for all future time be dark!" With these words he raised his hand and struck, not once, but many times, right in the sockets. With every blow blood spurted from his eyes down on his beard, and not in single drops, but showers of dark blood spattered like hail. [1280] So what these two have done has overwhelmed not one alone—this disaster swallows up a man and wife together. That old happiness they had before in their rich ancestry 1530 was truly joy, but now lament and ruin, death and shame, and all calamities which men can name are theirs to keep. CHORUS LEADER: And has that suffering man found some relief to ease his pain? SECOND MESSENGER: He shouts at everyone to open up the gates and thus reveal to all Cadmeians his father’s killer, his mother’s . . . but I must not say those words. He wants them to cast him out of Thebes, [1290] so the curse he laid will not come on this house 1540 if he still lives inside. But he is weak and needs someone to lead him on his way. His agony is more than he can bear— as he will show you—for on the palace doors the bolts are being pulled back. Soon you will see a sight which even a man filled with disgust would have to pity. [OEDIPUS enters through the palace doors] CHORUS LEADER: An awful fate for human eyes to witness, an appalling sight—the worst I’ve ever seen. O you poor man, what madness came on you? 1550 What eternal force pounced on your life [1300] and, springing further than the longest leap, brought you this awful doom? Alas! Alas! You unhappy man! I cannot look at you. I want to ask you many things—there’s much I wish to learn. You fill me with such horror, yet there is so much I must see. OEDIPUS: Aaaiiii, aaaiii . . . Alas! Alas! How miserable I am . . . such wretchedness . . . Where do I go? How can the wings of air 1560 [1310] sweep up my voice? Oh my destiny, how far you have sprung now! CHORUS LEADER: To a fearful place from which men turn away, a place they hate to look upon. OEDIPUS: O the dark horror wrapped around me, this nameless visitor I can’t resist swept here by fair and fatal winds. Alas for me! And yet again, alas for me! The agony of stabbing brooches pierces me! The memory of aching shame! 1570 CHORUS LEADER: In your distress it’s not astonishing you bear a double load of suffering, [1320] a double load of pain. OEDIPUS: Ah, my friend, so you still care for me, as always, and with patience nurse me now I’m blind. Alas! Alas! You are not hidden from me— I recognize you all too clearly. Though I am blind, I know that voice so well. CHORUS LEADER: You have carried out such dreadful things— how could you dare to blind yourself this way? 1580 What god drove you to it? OEDIPUS: It was Apollo, friends, it was Apollo. He brought on these troubles— [1330] the awful things I suffer. But the hand which stabbed out my eyes was mine alone. In my wretched life, why should I have eyes when nothing I could see would bring me joy? CHORUS LEADER: What you have said is true enough. OEDIPUS: What is there for me to see, my friends? What can I love? Whose greeting can I hear and feel delight? Hurry now, my friends, 1590 [1340] lead me away from Thebes—take me somewhere, a man completely lost, utterly accursed, the mortal man the gods despise the most. CHORUS LEADER: Unhappy in your fate and in your mind which now knows all. Would I had never known you! OEDIPUS: Whoever the man is who freed my feet, who released me from that cruel shackle [1350] and rescued me from death, may that man die! It was a thankless act. Had I perished then, I would not have brought such agony 1600 to myself or to my friends. CHORUS LEADER: I agree— I would have preferred your death, as well. OEDIPUS: I would not have come to kill my father, and men would not see in me the husband of the woman who gave birth to me. Now I am abandoned by the gods, [1360] the son of a corrupted mother, conceiving children with the woman who gave me my own miserable life. If there is some suffering more serious 1610 than all the rest, then it too belongs in the fate of Oedipus. CHORUS LEADER: I do not believe what you did to yourself is for the best. Better to be dead than alive and blind. OEDIPUS: Don’t tell me what I’ve done is not the best. And from now on spare me your advice. [1370] If I could see, I don’t know how my eyes could look at my own father when I come to Hades or could see my wretched mother. Against those two I have committed acts 1620 so vile that even if I hanged myself that would not be sufficient punishment. Perhaps you think the sight of my own children might give me joy? No! Look how they were born! They could never bring delight to eyes of mine. Nor could the city or its massive walls, or the sacred images of its gods. I am the most abhorred of men, I, the finest one of all those bred in Thebes, [1380] I have condemned myself, telling everyone 1630 they had to banish for impiety the man the gods have now exposed as sacrilegious—a son of Laius, too. With such polluting stains upon me, could I set eyes on you and hold your gaze? No. And if I could somehow block my ears and kill my hearing, I would not hold back. I’d make a dungeon of this wretched body, so I would never see or hear again. For there is joy in isolated thought, 1640 sealed off from a world of sorrow. [1390] O Cithaeron, why did you shelter me? Why, when I was handed over to you, did you not do away with me at once, so I would never then reveal to men the nature of my birth? Ah Polybus, and Corinth, the place men called my home, my father’s ancient house, you raised me well— so fine to look at, so corrupt inside! Now I've been exposed as something bad, 1650 contaminated in my origins. Oh you three roads and hidden forest grove, you thicket and defile where three paths meet, you who swallowed down my father’s blood [1400] from my own hands, do you remember me, what I did there in front of you and then what else I did when I came here to Thebes? Ah, you marriage rites—you gave birth to me, and then when I was born, you gave birth again, children from the child of that same womb, 1660 creating an incestuous blood family of fathers, brothers, children, brides, wives and mothers—the most atrocious act that human beings commit! But it is wrong to talk about what it is wrong to do, so in the name of all the gods, act quickly— hide me somewhere outside the land of Thebes, [1410] or slaughter me, or hurl me in the sea, where you will never gaze on me again. Come, allow yourself to touch a wretched man. 1670 Listen to me, and do not be afraid— for this disease infects no one but me. CHORUS LEADER: Creon is coming. He is just in time to plan and carry out what you propose. With you gone he’s the only one who’s left to act as guardian of Thebes. OEDIPUS: Alas, how will I talk to him? How can I ask him to put his trust in me? Not long ago [1420] I treated him with such contempt. [Enter Creon] CREON: Oedipus, I have not come here to mock 1680 or blame you for disasters in the past. But if you can no longer value human beings, at least respect our lord the sun, whose light makes all things grow, and do not put on show pollution of this kind in such a public way, for neither earth nor light nor sacred rain can welcome such a sight. [Creon speaks to the attending servants] Take him inside the house as quickly as you can. The kindest thing would be for members of his family [1430] to be the only ones to see and hear him. 1690 OEDIPUS: By all the gods, since you are acting now so differently from what I would expect and have come here to treat me graciously, the very worst of men, do what I ask. I will speak for your own benefit, not mine. CREON: What are you so keen to get from me? OEDIPUS: Cast me out as quickly as you can, away from Thebes, to a place where no one, no living human being, will cross my path. CREON: That is something I could do, of course, 1700 but first I wish to know what the god says about what I should do. OEDIPUS: But what he said [1440] was all so clear—the man who killed his father must be destroyed. And that corrupted man is me. CREON: Yes, that is what was said. But now, with things the way they are, the wisest thing is to ascertain quite clearly what to do. OEDIPUS: Will you then be making a request on my behalf when I am so depraved? CREON: I will. For even you must now trust in the gods. 1710 OEDIPUS: Yes, I do. And I have a task for you as I make this plea—that woman in the house, please bury her as you see fit. You are the one to give your own the proper funeral rites. But never let my father’s city be condemned to have me living here while I still live. [1450] Let me make my home up in the mountains by Cithaeron, whose fame is now my own. When my father and mother were alive, they chose it as my special burying place— 1720 and thus, when I die, I’ll be following the orders of the ones who tried to kill me. And yet I know this much—no disease nor any other suffering can kill me— for I would never have been saved from death unless I was to suffer a strange destiny. But wherever my fate leads, just let it go. As for my two sons, Creon, there’s no need for you to care for them on my behalf— they are men—thus, no matter where they are, 1730 [1460] they’ll always have enough to live on.* But my two poor daughters have never known my dining table placed away from them or lacked their father’s presence. They shared everything I touched—that’s how it’s always been. So take care of them for me. But first let me feel them with my hands and then I’ll grieve. Oh my lord, you noble heart, let me do that— if my hands could touch them it would seem as if I were with them when I still could see. 1740 [1470] [Some SERVANTS lead ANTIGONE and ISMENE out of the palace] What’s this? By all the gods I hear something— is it my two dear children crying . . . ? Has Creon taken pity on me and sent out the children, my dear treasures? Is that what’s happening? CREON: Yes. I sent for them. I know the joy they’ve always given you— the joy which you feel now. OEDIPUS: I wish you well. And for this act, may the god watch over you and treat you better than he treated me. Ah, my children, where are you? Come here, 1750 [1480] come into my arms—you are my sisters now— feel these hands which turned your father’s eyes, once so bright, into what you see now, these empty sockets. He was a man, who, seeing nothing, knowing nothing, fathered you with the woman who had given birth to him. I weep for you. Although I cannot see, I think about your life in days to come, the bitter life which men will force on you. What citizens will associate with you? 1760 What feasts will you attend and not come home in tears, with no share in the rejoicing? [1490] When you’re mature enough for marriage, who will be there for you, my children, what husband ready to assume the shame tainting my children and their children, too? What perversion is not manifest in us? Your father killed his father, and then ploughed his mother’s womb—where he himself was born— conceiving you where he, too, was conceived. 1770 Those are the insults they will hurl at you. [1500] Who, then, will marry you? No one, my children. You must wither, barren and unmarried. Son of Menoeceus, with both parents gone, you alone remain these children’s father. Do not let them live as vagrant paupers, wandering around unmarried. You are a relative of theirs—don’t let them sink to lives of desperation like my own. Have pity. You see them now at their young age 1780 deprived of everything except a share in what you are. Promise me, you noble soul, you will extend your hand to them. And you, [1510] my children, if your minds were now mature, there’s so much I could say. But I urge you— pray that you may live as best you can and lead your destined life more happily than your own father. CREON: You have grieved enough. Now go into the house. OEDIPUS: I must obey, although that’s not what I desire. CREON: In due time 1790 all things will work out for the best. OEDIPUS: I will go. But you know there are conditions. CREON: Tell me. Once I hear them, I’ll know what they are. OEDIPUS: Send me away to live outside of Thebes. CREON: Only the god can give you what you ask. OEDIPUS: But I’ve become abhorrent to the gods. CREON: Then you should quickly get what you desire. OEDIPUS: So you agree? [1520] CREON: I don’t like to speak thoughtlessly and say what I don’t mean. OEDIPUS: Come then, lead me off. CREON: All right, 1800 but let go of the children. OEDIPUS: No, no! Do not take them away from me. CREON: Don’t try to be in charge of everything. Your life has lost the power you once had. [CREON, OEDIPUS, ANTIGONE, ISMENE, and ATTENDANTS all enter the palace]* CHORUS: You residents of Thebes, our native land, look on this man, this Oedipus, the one who understood that celebrated riddle. He was the most powerful of men. All citizens who witnessed this man’s wealth were envious. Now what a surging tide 1810 of terrible disaster sweeps around him. So while we wait to see that final day, we cannot call a mortal being happy before he’s passed beyond life free from pain. [1530] Notes *Cadmus: legendary founder of Thebes. Hence, the citizens of Thebes were often called children of Cadmus or Cadmeians. [Back to Text] *Pallas: Pallas Athena. There were two shrines to her in Thebes. Ismenus: A temple to Apollo Ismenios where burnt offerings were the basis for the priest’s divination. [Back to text] *cruel singer: a reference to the Sphinx, a monster with the body of a lion, wings, and the head and torso of a woman. After the death of king Laius, the Sphinx tyrannized Thebes by not letting anyone into or out of the city, unless the person could answer the following riddle: "What walks on four legs in the morning, on two legs at noon, and three legs in the evening?" Those who could not answer were killed and eaten. Oedipus provided the answer (a human being), and thus saved the city. The Sphinx then committed suicide. [Back to text] *berries: a suppliant to Apollo’s shrine characteristically wore such a garland if he received favourable news. [Back to text] *Ares, god of war and killing, was often disapproved of by the major Olympian deities. Amphitrite: was a goddess of the sea, married to Poseidon. [Back to text] *lord of Lyceia: a reference to Apollo, god of light. [Back to text] *. . . among gods: Dionysus was also called Bacchus, and Thebes was sometimes called Baccheia (belonging to Bacchus). The Maenads are the followers of Dionysus. [Back to text] *lustral water: water purified in a communal religious ritual. [Back to text] *Agenor: founder of the Theban royal family; his son Cadmus moved from Sidon in Asia Minor to Greece and founded Thebes. Polydorus: son of Cadmus, father of Labdacus, and hence grandfather of Laius. [Back to text] *Cithaeron: the sacred mountain outside Thebes. [Back to text] *Zeus’ son: a reference to Apollo. The Furies are the goddesses of blood revenge. [Back to text] *Parnassus: a famous mountain some distance from Thebes, but visible from the city. [Back to text] *Polybus: ruler of Corinth, who raised Oedipus and is thus believed to be his father. The house of Labdacus is the Theban royal family (i.e., Laius, Jocasta, and Creon). [Back to text] *There is some argument about who speaks which lines in 622-626 of the Greek text. I follow Jebb’s suggestions, ascribing 625 to Creon, to whom it seems clearly to belong (in spite of the manuscripts) and adding a line to indicate Oedipus’ response. [Back to text] *This part of the choral song makes an important distinction between two forms of self-assertive action: the first breeds self-aggrandizement and greed; the second is necessary for the protection of the state. [Back to text] *Isthmus: The city of Corinth stood on the narrow stretch of land (the Isthmus) connecting the Peloponnese with mainland Greece, a very strategic position. [Back to text] *Loxias: a common name for Apollo. *. . . still carry: the name Oedipus can be construed to mean either "swollen feet" or "knowledge of one’s feet." Both terms evoke a strongly ironic sense of how Oedipus, for all his fame as a man of knowledge, is ignorant about his origin. [Back to text] *Cyllene’s king is the god Hermes, who was born on Mount Cyllene; the Bacchanalian god is Dionysus. [Back to text] *This line refers, not the entire story, but to what Jocasta and Oedipus have just done to themselves. *Oedipus’ two sons, Eteocles and Polyneices, would probably be fifteen or sixteen years old at this time, not old enough to succeed Oedipus. [Back to text] *It is not entirely clear from these final lines whether Oedipus now leaves Thebes or not. According to Jebb’s commentary (line 1519), in the traditional story on which Sophocles is relying, Oedipus was involuntarily held at Thebes for some time before the citizens and Creon expelled him from the city. Creon’s lines suggest he is going to wait to hear from the oracle before deciding about Oedipus. However, there is a powerful dramatic logic in having Oedipus stumble off away from the palace. In Book 23 of the Iliad, Homer indicates that Oedipus died at Thebes, and there were funeral games held in his honour in that city.