Be ye not harsh to Phœbos, and to me;
For He, when he proclaimed my many woes,
Told of this respite, after many years;
When I should reach the bourn of all my life,
That I should claim a stranger's place, and sit,
A suppliant at the shrine of dreaded Gods,[1] 90
And then should near the goal of woe-worn life,
To those who should receive me bringing gain;
To those who sent me—yea, who drove me—evil;
And that sure signs should give me pledge of this,
Earthquake, or thunder, or the flash of Zeus.
And now I know full well it cannot be
But faithful omen, sent to me by you,
To this grove brought me. Else I had not first,
Untasting wine, upon my way met you,
E'en you who loathe the wine-cup,[2] nor had sat 100
On this rough, hallowed seat. But, Ο ye Powers,
Grant me, according to Apollo's voice,
An issue and completion of my life;
Unless it chance I seem too low for this,
Of all mankind the most enslaved to ills.
Come, ye sweet daughters of the Darkness old,
Come, Ο thou city bearing Pallas' name,
Ο Athens, of all cities most renowned,
Have pity on this wasted, spectral form
That once was Œdipus. No longer now
Is this my carcase what it was of old. 110
- ↑ The Oracle had spoken vaguely, and till now Œdipus had not known who the "dreaded Gods" were. The chance words of the stranger, telling him of the "dread" daughters of the earth and darkness, give him a new ray of hope.
- ↑ The absence of wine from all libations made to the Erinnyes is presupposed as known even to the stranger, Œdipus. Later on, (481,) it comes prominently into the directions given him by the Chorus, but is received (with some slight inconsistency) with wonder.
