ACT III
[It is possible that the following fragments belong to still another play.
The presence of Antigone in Thebes, notwithstanding her resolve to remain
with her father, would strengthen this view.]
Jocasta: Oh, fortunate Agave! for she bore,
Within the hand which did the deed, the spoil,
The horrid spoil of her dismembered son, 365
A raging Maenad. Yea, she did the deed;
But naught in all her sinfulness did she
Save that one crime.[1] It is my least of sins
That I am guilty; this my greater crime,
That I have made another sinful too.
But even this seems light when I reflect
That I have given birth to sinful sons.
Till now 'twas wanting to my sum of woe
That I should love my country's enemy. 370
Three times has winter put away his snows,
And thrice have Ceres' golden harvests fall'n
Beneath the sickle, since my hapless son
In exile wanders, robbed of fatherland,
And craves assistance from the Grecian kings.
He has become Adrastus' son-in-law,
Whose sway is o'er the waters of the sea
Which Isthmus cleaves. Adrastus even now 375
Is leading on his tribes, and with him march
Seven other royal hosts. Ah, woe is me,
I know not what I ought to wish or say.
My exiled son with justice claims his share
Of empire, but he seeks it wrongfully.
How shall I pray? I count them both my sons, 380
And yet, alas, without impiety,
Can I for neither pray. If for one son
I call a blessing down, 'tis but a curse
Upon the other's head. Yet this I know:
Although I love them both with equal love,
My heart inclines toward the better cause, 385
The worser fortune, ever favoring him
- ↑ Reading, ultra suum scelus hoc cucurrit
