Oedipus at Colonus (775-808)

And yet what pleasure do you find in this, in treating me as dear against my will? As if a man should refuse you a gift, bring you no aid, when you continually begged for it; but after your heart was sated with your desires, he should grant it then, when the favor could bring no joy

—would you not find your delight in this empty? Yet such is the nature of your own offers to me: noble in appearance, but in substance base. And I will declare it to these men too, to show you up as base. You have come to get me,

not to bring me home, but to plant me near your borders, so that your city might escape uninjured by evils from this land. That fate is not for you, but this one: the brooding of my vengeful spirit on your land forever; and for my sons, this heirloom:

just so much soil in my realm in which to die. Am I not wiser than you in the fortunes of Thebes? Yes, far wiser, by as much as the sources of my knowledge are truer: Phoebus I mean, and his father, Zeus himself. But you have come here with fraud on your lips, yes,

and with a tongue keener than the edge of a sword; yet by their use you may well reap more sorrow than salvation. Still, since I know that I cannot persuade you of this, go! Allow us to live on here; for even in this plight our life would not be bad, if we should be content with it.

Which of us, do you think, suffers more in this exchange—I by your action, or you by your own?

For me, it is enough if your pleading fails both with me and with these men nearby.

Unhappy man, will you let everyone see that even in your years you have gained no sense?

Must you live on to disgrace your old age?

You have a clever tongue, but I know no just man who can produce from every side a pretty speech.

Words may be many, and yet not to the point.