From whence, instead of sight or sound enjoyed,
Ye will not come in tears unto your home? 
And when ye reach the marriageable bloom,
My daughters, who will be the man to cast
His lot with yours, receiving for his own
All those reproaches which have marred the name
Of both my parents and your name no less? 
What evil is not here?  Your father slew
His father, and then eared the mother field
Where he himself was sown, and got you from
The source of his own birth.  Such taunts will fly. 
And who will marry you?  No man, my daughters;
But ye must wither childless and unwed. 
Son of Menoeceus, who alone art left
As father to these maidens, for the pair
That gave them birth are utterly undone,
Suffer them not, being your kinswomen,
To wander desolate and poor, nor make
Their lot perforce the counterpart of mine. 
But look on them with pity, left in youth
Forlorn of all protection save from thee. 
Noble one, seal this promise with thy hand! 
—­For you, my children, were ye of an age
To ponder speech, I would have counselled you
Full carefully.  Now I would have you pray
To dwell where ’tis convenient, that your life
May find more blessing than your father knew.

CR.  Thou hast had enough of weeping.  Close thee in thy chamber walls.

OED. I must yield, though sore against me.

CR.  Yea, for strong occasion calls.

OED. Know’st thou on what terms I yield it?

CR.  Tell me, let us hear and know.

OED. That ye send from the country.

CR.  God alone can let thee go.

OED. But the Gods long since abhor me.

CR.  Thou wilt sooner gain that boon.

OED. Then consent.

CR.  ’Tis not my wont to venture promises too soon.

OED. Lead me now within the palace.

CR.  Come, but leave thy children.

OED. Nay! 
Tear not these from my embraces!

CR.  Hope not for perpetual sway: 
Since the power thou once obtainedst ruling with unquestioned might
Ebbing from thy life hath vanished ere the falling of the night.

LEADER OF CHORUS. 
Dwellers in our native Thebe, fix on Oedipus your eyes. 
Who resolved the dark enigma, noblest champion and most wise. 
Like a star his envied fortune mounted beaming[6] far and wide: 
Now he sinks in seas of anguish, whelmed beneath a raging tide. 
Therefore, with the old-world sages, waiting for that final day,
I will call no mortal happy, while he holds his house of clay,
Till without one pang of sorrow, all his hours have passed away.

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