OEDIPUS THE KING

Suppliants of all ages are seated round the altar at the palace doors, at their head a priest of Zeus.  To them enter Oedipus.

Oedipus
My children, latest born to Cadmus old,
Why sit ye here as suppliants, in your hands
Branches of olive filleted with wool? 
What means this reek of incense everywhere,
And everywhere laments and litanies? 
Children, it were not meet that I should learn
From others, and am hither come, myself,
I Oedipus, your world-renowned king. 
Ho! aged sire, whose venerable locks
Proclaim thee spokesman of this company,
Explain your mood and purport.  Is it dread
Of ill that moves you or a boon ye crave? 
My zeal in your behalf ye cannot doubt;
Ruthless indeed were I and obdurate
If such petitioners as you I spurned.

Priest
Yea, Oedipus, my sovereign lord and king,
Thou seest how both extremes of age besiege
Thy palace altars—­fledglings hardly winged,
and greybeards bowed with years; priests, as am I
of Zeus, and these the flower of our youth. 
Meanwhile, the common folk, with wreathed boughs
Crowd our two market-places, or before
Both shrines of Pallas congregate, or where
Ismenus gives his oracles by fire. 
For, as thou seest thyself, our ship of State,
Sore buffeted, can no more lift her head,
Foundered beneath a weltering surge of blood. 
A blight is on our harvest in the ear,
A blight upon the grazing flocks and herds,
A blight on wives in travail; and withal
Armed with his blazing torch the God of Plague
Hath swooped upon our city emptying
The house of Cadmus, and the murky realm
Of Pluto is full fed with groans and tears. 
     Therefore, O King, here at thy hearth we sit,
I and these children; not as deeming thee
A new divinity, but the first of men;
First in the common accidents of life,
And first in visitations of the Gods. 
Art thou not he who coming to the town
of Cadmus freed us from the tax we paid
To the fell songstress?  Nor hadst thou received
Prompting from us or been by others schooled;
No, by a god inspired (so all men deem,
And testify) didst thou renew our life. 
And now, O Oedipus, our peerless king,
All we thy votaries beseech thee, find
Some succor, whether by a voice from heaven
Whispered, or haply known by human wit. 
Tried counselors, methinks, are aptest found [1]
To furnish for the future pregnant rede. 
Upraise, O chief of men, upraise our State! 
Look to thy laurels! for thy zeal of yore
Our country’s savior thou art justly hailed: 
O never may we thus record thy reign:—­
“He raised us up only to cast us down.” 
Uplift us, build our city on a rock. 
Thy happy star ascendant brought us luck,
O let it not decline!  If thou wouldst rule
This land, as now thou reignest, better sure
To rule a peopled than a desert realm. 
Nor battlements nor galleys aught avail,
If men to man and guards to guard them tail.