ŒDIPUS.—Good luck have thou! And may the Powers on high Guard thy path better than they guarded mine! Where are ye, O my children? Come, oh! come To these your brother’s hands, which but now tore Your father’s eyes, that once were bright to see, Who, O my children, blind and knowing naught, Became your father—how, I may not tell. I weep for you, though sight is mine no more, Picturing in mind the sad and dreary life Which waits you in the world in years to come; For to what friendly gatherings will ye go, Or festive joys, from whence, for stately show, Once yours, ye shall not home return in tears? Who is there, O my children, rash enough To make his own the shame that then will fall On those who bore me, and on you as well? What evil fails us here? Such shame as this Will men lay on you, and who then will dare To make you his in marriage? None, not one, My children! but ye needs must waste away, Unwedded, childless. Thou, Menœceus’ son, Since thou alone art left a father to them, Suffer them not to wander husbandless, Nor let thy kindred beg their daily bread; But look on them with pity, seeing them At their age, but for thee, deprived of all. O noble soul, I pray thee, touch my hand In token of consent. And ye, my girls, Had ye the minds to hearken, I would fain Give ye much counsel. As it is, pray for me To live where’er is meet; and for yourselves A brighter life than his ye call your sire. CREON.—Enough of tears and words. Go thou within. ŒDIPUS.—I needs must yield, however hard it be. CREON.—In their right season, all things prosper best. ŒDIPUS.—Know’st thou my wish? CREON.—Speak, and I then shall hear. ŒDIPUS.—That thou should’st send me far away from home? CREON.—Thou askest what the gods alone can give. ŒDIPUS.—And yet I go most hated of the gods. CREON.—And therefore it may chance thou gain’st thy wish. ŒDIPUS.—And dost thou promise, then, to grant it me? CREON.—I am not wont to utter idle words. ŒDIPUS.—Lead me then hence. CREON.—Go thou, but leave the girls. ŒDIPUS.—Ah! take them not from me. CREON.—Thou must not think To have thy way in all things all thy life. Thou hadst it once, yet went it ill with thee. CHORUS.—Ye men of Thebes, behold this Œdipus, Who knew the famous riddle[32] and was noblest, Who envied no one’s fortune and success: And lo! in what a sea of direst woe He now is plunged. From hence the lesson draw, To reckon no man happy till ye see The closing day; until lie pass the bourn Which severs life from death, unscathed by woe.”—PLUMPTRE.