Oedipus at Colonus (1-48)

Child of a blind old man, Antigone, to what region have we come, or to what city of men? Who will entertain the wandering Oedipus today with scanty gifts?

Little do I crave, and obtain still less than that little, and with that I am content. For patience is the lesson of suffering, and of the long years upon me, and lastly of a noble mind. My child, if you see any resting-place,

either on profane ground or by groves of the gods, stop me and set me down, so that we may inquire where we are. We have come to learn as foreigners from the townsmen, and to bring to completion whatever we hear.

Father, toil-worn Oedipus, the towers that

ring the city, to judge by sight, are far off; and this place is sacred, to judge from its appearance: laurel, olive, and vine grow thick-set; and a feathered crowd of nightingales makes music within. So sit here on this unshaped stone;

you have travelled a long way for an old man.

Seat me, then, and watch over the blind.

If time can teach, I need not learn that.

Can you tell me, now, where we have arrived?

Athens I know, but not this place.

Yes, so much every traveller told us.

Well, shall I go and learn what the spot is called?

Yes, child, if indeed it is inhabited.

It surely is inhabited. But I think there is no need—I see a man nearby.

Setting off and coming toward us?

He is at our side already. Speak whatever seems timely to you, for the man is here.

Stranger, hearing from this maiden, who has sight both for herself and for me,

that you have arrived as a scout of good fortune for the solving of our doubts—

Now, before you question me at length, leave this seat. You occupy ground which is unholy to tread upon.

And what is this ground? To which of the gods is it sacred?

Ground inviolable, on which no one may dwell. The dread

goddesses hold it, the daughters of Earth and Darkness.

Who are they? Whose awful name might I hear and invoke in prayer?

The all-seeing Eumenides the people here would call them: but other names please elsewhere.

Then graciously may they receive their suppliant!

Nevermore will I depart from my seat in this land.

What does this mean?

The watchword of my fate.

I dare not remove you without warrant from the city, until I report what I am doing.

Now by the gods, stranger, do not deny me, hapless wanderer as you see,