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Oedipus RexSophocles Essay Research Paper JOCASTAMy lords

Oedipus Rex-Sophocles Essay, Research Paper


JOCASTA


My lords look amazed to see your queen with wreaths and gifts of incense in her hands. I had a mind to visit the high shrines, for Oedipus is nervous, alarmed with various terrors. He will not use his past experience, like a man of sense, to judge the present need, but lends his ear to any croaker that argues. Since then my counsels don?t have an advantage, I turn to thee, our help when we are in trouble, Apollo, Lord Lycean, and to you my prayers and pleas I bring. Ease us, lord, and cleanse us from this curse! For now we all are intimidated. Who see their helmsman confused in the storm.


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MESSENGER: My masters, tell me where the palace of Oedipus is; or better, where’s the king.


CHORUS


Here is the palace and he lives within it; this is his queen the mother of his children.


MESSENGER: All happiness attend her and the house. Her marriage-bed and husband are both blessed.


JOCASTA: My greetings to you, stranger; whose reasonable words deserve a like response. But tell me why have you come–what do you need or what news do you have?


MESSENGER: It is good for your husband and the royal house.


JOCASTA: What is it? Whose messenger are you?


MESSENGER: The Isthmian commons have resolved to make your husband king?at least that is what I heard.


JOCASTA: What! Isn?t aged Polybus still king?


MESSENGER: No, regretfully; he’s dead and in his grave.


JOCASTA: What! The sire of Oedipus is dead?


MESSENGER: If I don?t speak the truth I may die.


JOCASTA: Quick, maiden, Tell this news to my lord. The god-sent oracles, where are they now? This is the man whom Oedipus long turned away from, in dread to prove his murderer; and now he dies in nature’s course, not by Oedipus? doings.


OEDIPUS: My wife, my queen, Jocasta, why have you called me from my palace.


JOCASTA: Listen to this man, and explain what happened to the oracles.


OEDIPUS: Who is this man, and what is his news for me?


JOCASTA: He comes from Corinth and his message is this: your father Polybus has passed away.


OEDIPUS: What? Tell me in your own words.


MESSENGER: There is no other way of saying this, the king is dead.


OEDIPUS: By old age, or by sickness?


MESSENGER: One touch will send an old man to his rest.


OEDIPUS: It was sickness then?


MESSENGER: Yes, and his age.


OEDIPUS:Ah! why should one regard the Pythian hearth or birds that scream in the air? Did they not point at me saying I killed my father? but he’s dead and in his grave, and here I am who never touched a sword; unless the longing for his absent son killed him and so I slew him in a sense. But, as they stand, the oracles are dead–dust, ashes, nothing, dead as Polybus.


JOCASTA: Did I not predict this long ago?


OEDIPUS: You did: but I was misled by my fear.


JOCASTA: Don?t ever think of these things again.


OEDIPUS: Can I not fear my mother’s marriage bed.


JOCASTA: Why should a mortal man, with no assured foreknowledge, be afraid? It is best if one lives a careless life through. Don?t fear this marriage with your mother. How often does the chance that a man weds his mother! No reasonable man is troubled by this.


OEDIPUS: I should have had full confidence, is not my mother alive; since she lives I still have to worry.


JOCASTA: And yet thy sire’s death lights out darkness much.


OEDIPUS


Much, but my fear is touching her who lives.


MESSENGER


Who may this woman be whom thus you fear?


OEDIPUS


Merope, stranger, wife of Polybus.


MESSENGER


And what of her can cause you any fear?


OEDIPUS


A heaven-sent oracle of dread import.


MESSENGER


A mystery, or may a stranger hear it?


OEDIPUS


Aye, ’tis no secret. Loxias once foretold


That I should mate with mine own mother, and shed


With my own hands the blood of my own sire.


Hence Corinth was for many a year to me


A home distant; and I trove abroad,


But missed the sweetest sight, my parents’ face.


MESSENGER


Was this the fear that exiled thee from home?


OEDIPUS


Yea, and the dread of slaying my own sire.


MESSENGER


Why, since I came to give thee pleasure, King,


Have I not rid thee of this second fear?


OEDIPUS


Well, thou shalt have due guerdon for thy pains.


MESSENGER


Well, I confess what chiefly made me come


Was hope to profit by thy coming home.


OEDIPUS


Nay, I will ne’er go near my parents more.


MESSENGER


My son, ’tis plain, thou know’st not what thou doest.


OEDIPUS


How so, old man? For heaven’s sake tell me all.


MESSENGER


If this is why thou dreadest to return.


OEDIPUS


Yea, lest the god’s word be fulfilled in m

e.


MESSENGER


Lest through thy parents thou shouldst be accursed?


OEDIPUS


This and none other is my constant dread.


MESSENGER


Dost thou not know thy fears are baseless all?


OEDIPUS


How baseless, if I am their very son?


MESSENGER


Since Polybus was naught to thee in blood.


OEDIPUS


What say’st thou? was not Polybus my sire?


MESSENGER


As much thy sire as I am, and no more.


OEDIPUS


My sire no more to me than one who is naught?


MESSENGER


Since I begat thee not, no more did he.


OEDIPUS


What reason had he then to call me son?


MESSENGER


Know that he took thee from my hands, a gift.


OEDIPUS


Yet, if no child of his, he loved me well.


MESSENGER


A childless man till then, he warmed to thee.


OEDIPUS


A foundling or a purchased slave, this child?


MESSENGER


I found thee in Cithaeron’s wooded glens.


OEDIPUS


What led thee to explore those upland glades?


MESSENGER


My business was to tend the mountain flocks.


OEDIPUS


A vagrant shepherd journeying for hire?


MESSENGER


True, but thy savior in that hour, my son.


OEDIPUS


My savior? from what harm? what ailed me then?


MESSENGER


Those ankle joints are evidence enow.


OEDIPUS


Ah, why remind me of that ancient sore?


MESSENGER


I loosed the pin that riveted thy feet.


OEDIPUS


Yes, from my cradle that dread brand I bore.


MESSENGER


Whence thou deriv’st the name that still is thine.


OEDIPUS


Who did it? I adjure thee, tell me who


Say, was it father, mother?


MESSENGER


I know not.


The man from whom I had thee may know more.


OEDIPUS


What, did another find me, not thyself?


MESSENGER


Not I; another shepherd gave thee me.


OEDIPUS


Who was he? Would’st thou know again the man?


MESSENGER


He passed indeed for one of Laius’ house.


OEDIPUS


The king who ruled the country long ago?


MESSENGER


The same: he was a herdsman of the king.


OEDIPUS


And is he living still for me to see him?


MESSENGER


His fellow-countrymen should best know that.


OEDIPUS


Doth any bystander among you know


The herd he speaks of, or by seeing him


Afield or in the city? answer straight!


The hour hath come to clear this business up.


CHORUS


Methinks he means none other than the hind


Whom thou anon wert fain to see; but that


Our queen Jocasta best of all could tell.


OEDIPUS


Madam, dost know the man we sent to fetch?


Is the same of whom the stranger speaks?


JOCASTA


Who is the man? What matter? Let it be.


‘Twere waste of thought to weigh such idle words.


OEDIPUS


No, with such guiding clues I cannot fail


To bring to light the secret of my birth.


JOCASTA


Oh, as thou carest for thy life, give o’er


This quest. Enough the anguish _I_ endure.


OEDIPUS


Be of good cheer; though I be proved the son


Of a bondwoman, aye, through three descents


Triply a slave, thy honor is unsmirched.


JOCASTA


Yet humor me, I pray thee; do not this.


OEDIPUS


I cannot; I must probe this matter home.


JOCASTA


‘Tis for thy sake I advise thee for the best.


OEDIPUS


I grow impatient of this best advice.


JOCASTA


Ah mayst thou ne’er discover who thou art!


OEDIPUS


Go, fetch me here the herd, and leave yon woman


To glory in her pride of ancestry.


JOCASTA


O sadness is thee, poor wretch! With that last word


I leave thee, from now on silent evermore.


CHORUS


Why, Oedipus, why stung with passionate grief


Hath the queen thus departed? Much I fear


From this dead calm will burst a storm of woes.


OEDIPUS


Let the storm burst, my fixed resolve still holds,


To learn my lineage, be it ne’er so low.


It may be she with all a woman’s pride


Thinks scorn of my base parentage. But I


Who rank myself as Fortune’s favorite child,


The giver of good gifts, shall not be shamed.


She is my mother and the changing moons


My brethren, and with them I wax and wane.


Thus sprung why should I fear to trace my birth?


Nothing can make me other than I am.


331

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