Dramatic Dialogue | Oedipus
Chorus 1
Sweet voice of Zeus that came to us through Apollo’s golden temple: What are you saying to the people of our glorious Thebes? Shudders run through my heart with fear and my mind is unclear.
Apollo, god of healing, I dread the message you bring to us. What past deed must we pay for now? What do we owe to the past?
Immortal Athena! Zeus’ daughter! I call on you first! And to your sister, who is our protector, the goddess Artemis, whose throne is the magnificent earth and in whose temples we Thebans pray.
And you, too, Apollo whose arrows never miss!
Come, all three of you. You’ve come to our aid before and you have swept aside the flames of our catastrophe. Come again now! Save us, gods!
Countless are my sufferings. The whole nation is suffering from this wound, from this murderous plague and we see no way to be rid of it.
No crops on the land, no children follow the women’s birth-pains. The city is dying from her countless pains, gods!
There the children die and left upon the earth unburied, uncried for, uncleansed, polluting our city.
Women, young and old, are spread in deep prayer upon the steps of altars. They pray with deep sighs for their bitter sufferings.
Zeus! Make Ares the winged god of war turn his back and leave this land! Make him run away! Make this god of war and all his destruction leave our Thebes! Send your burning bolt to him, Zeus. Burn him, master of the thunderbolts.
You, too, Apollo! I ask you to give us aid and protection. Let your untamed arrows leave their golden bow and you, too Artemis come with your burning torches. Leave your Lycian hills and come to us!
Chorus 2
I wonder whose murderous hand it is that Delphi’s rock said committed this most incredible of all incredible deeds?
Time for him now to flee this place; flee faster than flying mares, faster than the wind.
I see Apollo, the son of Zeus, armed with flames and lightning, hard behind him, pursuing him fiercely!
Look! He is followed by the awesome, unfailing Furies!
Only a minute ago the command came from the snowy tips to hunt down the hiding murderer. There, the man, deserted, wanders like a wild bull from cave to cave, from rock to rock, far from the paths of men, far from earth’s heart, where the curses, will not find him. But they, fully alive, constantly spread their wings around him.
Yet, the wise seer troubles me! Should I believe him? Should I not? I have no idea what to think of this and my brain flies this way and that without being able to see neither ahead of me, or behind.
What conflict I wonder brought Thebes against Corinth! Why? I never knew the answer to this question before, nor do I know it now. Who murdered Laius?
Who knows? I know nothing! Nothing with which I may condemn our current king, and thus avenge Laius’ death.
Men’s deeds are known only by Zeus and by his son, Apollo! Only the gods are privy to our deeds! To say a seer knows more than I do is false. Men are each other’s better in only one thing: wisdom. As for the murder, I’ll only believe the proven word and nothing less.
We saw it all! Out there, the winged Sphinx had asked him all her riddles and his answers proved him wise and so, justly then, he was proclaimed our city’s loving friend.
No! My mind will not declare him evil!
Chorus 3
If only I was lucky enough to be able to fully understand the wise and pure words, the laws of the heavenly gods, laws that were fathered by Olympus, and not merely those of some mortal whose memory can fail!
Great and ageless are the Gods within those laws.
Arrogance overfed with vanity and bloated with unearned riches, will turn a man into a tyrant. Yet even from the highest peak he will fall into the deepest abyss from where there is no escape.
I pray to you, Apollo!
Do not stop the good fight for the city. Be my protector always.
If by his tongue or by his hands a man becomes too proud, if he neglects his duty to Justice or to the altars of the gods, let that man’s Fate be harsh, as harsh as is his unearned pride.
If by unjust deeds he seeks to make his profits, or if he does not hold back the madness of his hand from touching the untouchable shrines, who could help him?
Who could remove the arrows sent into his heart by the angry gods? For if such things are thought of as honourable, what purpose would my prayers to the gods have?
Why dance the holy dances?
How could I ever again go in reverence to pray at Apollo’s shrine if all these things do not clear up for all the mortals to see and feel?
Zeus! If you are truly worthy of being called “Almighty” then let not all this injustice escape you or your eternal power!
Gone are the oracles addressed to Laius –no one believes them anymore and nowhere the people believe in Apollo!
Gone is the love for the gods!
Chorus 4
Wretched mortals! Your lives are of no consequence. What man can ever feel that his joy is any more than a dream, since all it does is to appear and then disappear almost straight away?
I look at your life, luckless Oedipus, and take it as an example.
How can I look at your Fate and praise the Fate of any other human?
This man, Zeus! This man has aimed high and highly he has achieved.
He has escaped Apollo’s sharp-taloned oracle and has gained great joy.
He stood like a great tower, protecting our city from the many deaths.
Since then, my Lord I can think of no other man more honourable than you in our great Thebes.
Turning towards Oedipus
Yet now! Who can be called more unfortunate than you, Oedipus?
One twist of Fate, Oedipus and now no one can be called more wretched. A twist that brought you into the midst of wild sadness and dreadful pain.
Both of you, Oedipus -father and son- how did the same awful harbour manage to receive you both?
How did your father’s bed manage to keep you there, in such silence and for so long?
Then the years came and found you, my King and now they condemn this unholy marriage from which you were born and in which you gave birth.
Poor child of Laius! I wish I had never met you because my heart cries bitter tears for you.
Yet, the fact is Oedipus; it is you who has given me some comfort when you came to Thebes, enough comfort for me to be able to sleep at night.
Chorus 5
Ah! Ah! Ah!
What a hideous sight! More frightening then all the sights I’ve ever seen before.
What frenzy took hold of you poor, luckless man? What evil creature jumped so gruesomely upon your sad Fate? Ahhhh! Poor man!
Poor Man! How insufferable must be your pain. I have so many questions to ask you, so much I need to know, yet I just can’t look at you.
In dreadful misery, Oedipus. Dreadful, unheard of, never-seen-before, misery.
Such circumstances bring about double suffering, double pain and double burdens!
What brutal courage you must have, Oedipus, to erase the light from your own eyes!
Ill-Fated man! Ill-Fated in mind and in flesh.
I can’t say what you did was wise, Oedipus. Better to be dead, I should think, than to be alive and blind.
Sweet voice of Zeus that came to us through Apollo’s golden temple: What are you saying to the people of our glorious Thebes? Shudders run through my heart with fear and my mind is unclear.
Apollo, god of healing, I dread the message you bring to us. What past deed must we pay for now? What do we owe to the past?
Immortal Athena! Zeus’ daughter! I call on you first! And to your sister, who is our protector, the goddess Artemis, whose throne is the magnificent earth and in whose temples we Thebans pray.
And you, too, Apollo whose arrows never miss!
Come, all three of you. You’ve come to our aid before and you have swept aside the flames of our catastrophe. Come again now! Save us, gods!
Countless are my sufferings. The whole nation is suffering from this wound, from this murderous plague and we see no way to be rid of it.
No crops on the land, no children follow the women’s birth-pains. The city is dying from her countless pains, gods!
There the children die and left upon the earth unburied, uncried for, uncleansed, polluting our city.
Women, young and old, are spread in deep prayer upon the steps of altars. They pray with deep sighs for their bitter sufferings.
Zeus! Make Ares the winged god of war turn his back and leave this land! Make him run away! Make this god of war and all his destruction leave our Thebes! Send your burning bolt to him, Zeus. Burn him, master of the thunderbolts.
You, too, Apollo! I ask you to give us aid and protection. Let your untamed arrows leave their golden bow and you, too Artemis come with your burning torches. Leave your Lycian hills and come to us!
Chorus 2
I wonder whose murderous hand it is that Delphi’s rock said committed this most incredible of all incredible deeds?
Time for him now to flee this place; flee faster than flying mares, faster than the wind.
I see Apollo, the son of Zeus, armed with flames and lightning, hard behind him, pursuing him fiercely!
Look! He is followed by the awesome, unfailing Furies!
Only a minute ago the command came from the snowy tips to hunt down the hiding murderer. There, the man, deserted, wanders like a wild bull from cave to cave, from rock to rock, far from the paths of men, far from earth’s heart, where the curses, will not find him. But they, fully alive, constantly spread their wings around him.
Yet, the wise seer troubles me! Should I believe him? Should I not? I have no idea what to think of this and my brain flies this way and that without being able to see neither ahead of me, or behind.
What conflict I wonder brought Thebes against Corinth! Why? I never knew the answer to this question before, nor do I know it now. Who murdered Laius?
Who knows? I know nothing! Nothing with which I may condemn our current king, and thus avenge Laius’ death.
Men’s deeds are known only by Zeus and by his son, Apollo! Only the gods are privy to our deeds! To say a seer knows more than I do is false. Men are each other’s better in only one thing: wisdom. As for the murder, I’ll only believe the proven word and nothing less.
We saw it all! Out there, the winged Sphinx had asked him all her riddles and his answers proved him wise and so, justly then, he was proclaimed our city’s loving friend.
No! My mind will not declare him evil!
Chorus 3
If only I was lucky enough to be able to fully understand the wise and pure words, the laws of the heavenly gods, laws that were fathered by Olympus, and not merely those of some mortal whose memory can fail!
Great and ageless are the Gods within those laws.
Arrogance overfed with vanity and bloated with unearned riches, will turn a man into a tyrant. Yet even from the highest peak he will fall into the deepest abyss from where there is no escape.
I pray to you, Apollo!
Do not stop the good fight for the city. Be my protector always.
If by his tongue or by his hands a man becomes too proud, if he neglects his duty to Justice or to the altars of the gods, let that man’s Fate be harsh, as harsh as is his unearned pride.
If by unjust deeds he seeks to make his profits, or if he does not hold back the madness of his hand from touching the untouchable shrines, who could help him?
Who could remove the arrows sent into his heart by the angry gods? For if such things are thought of as honourable, what purpose would my prayers to the gods have?
Why dance the holy dances?
How could I ever again go in reverence to pray at Apollo’s shrine if all these things do not clear up for all the mortals to see and feel?
Zeus! If you are truly worthy of being called “Almighty” then let not all this injustice escape you or your eternal power!
Gone are the oracles addressed to Laius –no one believes them anymore and nowhere the people believe in Apollo!
Gone is the love for the gods!
Chorus 4
Wretched mortals! Your lives are of no consequence. What man can ever feel that his joy is any more than a dream, since all it does is to appear and then disappear almost straight away?
I look at your life, luckless Oedipus, and take it as an example.
How can I look at your Fate and praise the Fate of any other human?
This man, Zeus! This man has aimed high and highly he has achieved.
He has escaped Apollo’s sharp-taloned oracle and has gained great joy.
He stood like a great tower, protecting our city from the many deaths.
Since then, my Lord I can think of no other man more honourable than you in our great Thebes.
Turning towards Oedipus
Yet now! Who can be called more unfortunate than you, Oedipus?
One twist of Fate, Oedipus and now no one can be called more wretched. A twist that brought you into the midst of wild sadness and dreadful pain.
Both of you, Oedipus -father and son- how did the same awful harbour manage to receive you both?
How did your father’s bed manage to keep you there, in such silence and for so long?
Then the years came and found you, my King and now they condemn this unholy marriage from which you were born and in which you gave birth.
Poor child of Laius! I wish I had never met you because my heart cries bitter tears for you.
Yet, the fact is Oedipus; it is you who has given me some comfort when you came to Thebes, enough comfort for me to be able to sleep at night.
Chorus 5
Ah! Ah! Ah!
What a hideous sight! More frightening then all the sights I’ve ever seen before.
What frenzy took hold of you poor, luckless man? What evil creature jumped so gruesomely upon your sad Fate? Ahhhh! Poor man!
Poor Man! How insufferable must be your pain. I have so many questions to ask you, so much I need to know, yet I just can’t look at you.
In dreadful misery, Oedipus. Dreadful, unheard of, never-seen-before, misery.
Such circumstances bring about double suffering, double pain and double burdens!
What brutal courage you must have, Oedipus, to erase the light from your own eyes!
Ill-Fated man! Ill-Fated in mind and in flesh.
I can’t say what you did was wise, Oedipus. Better to be dead, I should think, than to be alive and blind.