Which bring not peace: up, reeling, steep on steep She climbs, till lo, the rock-edge, and the leap To that which needs must be, The land where the strong foot is no more strong! Yet is there surely Pride That saves a city; God preserve it long! I judge not. Only through all maze of wrong Be God, not man, my guide. [Strophe. [Or if TIRESIAS can really be a lying prophet with no fear of God; they feel that all faith in oracles and the things of God is shaken. Is there a priest who moves amid the altars Ruthless in deed and word,

Fears not the presence of his god, nor falters Lest Right at last be heard? If such there be, oh, let some doom be given Meet for his ill-starred pride, Who will not gain his gain where Justice is, Who will not hold his lips from blasphemies, Who hurls rash hands amid the things of heaven From man's touch sanctified. In a world where such things be, What spirit hath shield or lance To ward him secretly From the arrow that slays askance? If honour to such things be, Why should I dance my dance? [Antistrophe. I go no more with prayers and adorations To Earth's deep Heart of Stone, Nor yet the Abantes' floor, nor where the nations Kneel at Olympia's throne, Till all this dark be lightened, for the finger Of man to touch and know. O Thou that rulestif men rightly call Thy name on earthO Zeus, thou Lord of all And Strength undying, let not these things linger Unknown, tossed to and fro. For faint is the oracle, And they thrust it aside, away;

And no more visible Apollo to save or slay; And the things of God, they fail As mist on the wind away. [JOCASTA comes out from the Palace followed by handmaids bearing incense and flowers. JOCASTA. Lords of the land, the ways my thought hath trod Lead me in worship to these shrines of God With flowers and incense flame. So dire a storm Doth shake the King, sin, dread and every form Of grief the world knows. 'Tis the wise man's way To judge the morrow by the yester day; Which he doth never, but gives eye and ear To all who speak, will they but speak of fear. And seeing no word of mine hath power to heal His torment, therefore forth to thee I steal, O Slayer of the Wolf, O Lord of Light, Apollo: thou art near us, and of right Dost hold us thine: to thee in prayer I fall. [She kneels at the altar of Apollo Lukeios. Oh, show us still some path that is not all Unclean; for now our captain's eyes are dim With dread, and the whole ship must follow him.

[While she prays a STRANGER has entered and begins to accost the Chorus. STRANGER. Good masters, is there one of you could bring My steps to the house of Oedipus, your King? Or, better, to himself if that may be? LEADER. This is the house and he within; and she Thou seest, the mother of his royal seed. [JOCASTA rises, anxious, from her prayer. STRANGER. Being wife to such a man, happy indeed And ringed with happy faces may she live! JOCASTA. To one so fair of speech may the Gods give Like blessing, courteous stranger; 'tis thy due. But say what leads thee hither. Can we do Thy wish in aught, or hast thou news to bring? STRANGER.