By treachery, or by visit of disease?960
Me. A light thing in the scale brings the aged to their rest.
Oe. Ah, he died, it seems, of sickness?
Me. Yea, and of the long years that he had told.
Oe. Alas, alas! Why, indeed, my wife, should one look to the hearth of the Pythian seer, or to the birds that scream above our heads, on whose showing I was doomed to slay my sire? But he is dead, and hid already beneath the earth; and here am I, who have not put hand to spear.—Unless, perchance, he was killed by longing for me:970 thus, indeed, I should be the cause of his death. But the oracles as they stand, at least, Polybus hath swept with him to his rest in Hades: they are worth nought.
Io. Nay, did I not so foretell to thee long since?
Oe. Thou didst: but I was misled by my fear.
Io. Now no more lay aught of those things to heart.
Oe. But surely I must needs fear my mother's bed?
Io. Nay, what should mortal fear, for whom the decrees of Fortune are supreme, and who hath clear foresight of nothing? 'Tis best to live at random, as one may.980 But fear not thou touching wedlock with thy mother. Many men ere now have so fared in dreams also: but he to whom these things are as nought bears his life most easily.
Oe. All these bold words of thine would have been well, were not my mother living; but as it is, since she lives, I must needs fear—though thou sayest well.
Io. Howbeit thy father's death is a great sign to cheer us.
Oe. Great, I know; but my fear is of her who lives.
Me. And who is the woman about whom ye fear?
Oe. Meropè, old man, the consort of Polybus.990
Me. And what is it in her that moves your fear?
Oe. A heaven-sent oracle of dread import, stranger.
Me. Lawful, or unlawful, for another to know?
Oe. Lawful, surely. Loxias once said that I was doomed to espouse mine own mother, and to shed with mine own hands my father's blood. Wherefore my home in Corinth was long kept by me afar; with happy event, indeed,—yet still 'tis sweet to see the face of parents.
Me. Was it indeed for fear of this that thou wast1000 an exile from that city?
Oe. And because I wished not, old man, to be the slayer of my sire.
Me. Then why have I not freed thee, king, from this fear, seeing that I came with friendly purpose?
Oe. Indeed thou shouldst have guerdon due from me.
Me. Indeed 'twas chiefly for this that I came—that, on thy return home, I might reap some good.
Oe. Nay, I will never go near my parents.
Me. Ah my son, 'tis plain enough that thou knowest not what thou doest.
Oe. How, old man? For the gods' love, tell me.
Me. If for these reasons thou shrinkest from going home.1010
Oe. Aye, I dread lest Phoebus prove himself true for me.
Me. Thou dreadest to be stained with guilt through thy parents?
Oe. Even so, old man—this it is that ever affrights me.
Me. Dost thou know, then, that thy fears are wholly vain?
Oe. How so, if I was born of those parents?
Me. Because Polybus was nothing to thee in blood.
Oe. What sayest thou? Was Polybus not my sire?
Me. No more than he who speaks to thee, but just so much.
Oe. And how can my sire be level with him who is as nought to me?
Me. Nay, he begat thee not, any more than I.1020
Oe. Nay, wherefore, then, called he me his son?
Me. Know that he had received thee as a gift from my hands of yore.
Oe. And yet he loved me so dearly, who came from another's hand?
Me. Yea, his former childlessness won him thereto.
Oe. And thou—hadst thou bought me or found me by chance, when thou gavest me to him?
Me. Found thee in Cithaeron's winding glens.
Oe. And wherefore wast thou roaming in those regions?
Me. I was there in charge of mountain flocks.
Oe. What, thou wast a shepherd—a vagrant hireling?
Me. But thy preserver, my son, in that hour.1030
Oe. And what pain was mine when thou didst take me in thine arms?
Me. The ankles of thy feet might witness.
Oe. Ah me, why dost thou speak of that old trouble?
Me. I freed thee when thou hadst thine ankles pinned together.
Oe. Aye, 'twas a dread brand of shame that I took from my cradle.
Me. Such, that from that fortune thou wast called by the name which still is thine.
Oe. Oh, for the gods' love—was the deed my mother's or father's? Speak!
Me. I know not; he who gave thee to me wots better of that than I.
Oe. What, thou hadst me from another? Thou didst not light on me thyself?
Me. No: another shepherd gave thee up to me.1040
Oe. Who was he? Art thou in case to tell clearly?
Me. I think he was called one of the household of Laïus.
Oe. The king who ruled this country long ago?
Me. The same: 'twas in his service that the man was a herd.
Oe. Is he still alive, that I might see him?
Me. Nay, ye folk of the country should know best.
Oe. Is there any of you here present that knows the herd of whom he speaks—that hath seen him in the pastures or the town? Answer! The hour hath come that these things should be finally revealed.1050
Ch. Methinks he speaks of no other than the peasant whom thou wast already fain to see; but our lady Iocasta might best tell that.
Oe. Lady, wottest thou of him whom we lately summoned? Is it of him that this man speaks?
Io.
