OEDIPUS REX
(For this play I took some liberties with Sophocles. I condensed some sections and combined a few characters for coherence. Many events that were only alluded to in Sophocles' version are played out in real time here. This should not be used as a play-by-play substitution for the original play but rather my own re-working and interpretation of the mythical events.)
CAST
Oedipus Young Prince
Jocasta Queen of Thebes
Teiresias Blind Prophet of Thebes
Laius /Old Man King of Thebes
Polybus King of Corinth
Servant Servant to Polybus
Shepherd Servant to Laius
Sphinx Supernatural Creature
Guard Watchman of Thebes
Creon Brother of Jocasta
Maidservant Servant of Jocasta
Oracle Oracle of Delphi
Narrator: In the midst of a howling storm, Jocasta, the Queen of Thebes, gave birth on the darkest night of the year. Grouped about her in a sweaty bundle, her maidservants attended her, dabbing her fiery face, and ushered her wailing son into the world. Shaking hands finally held him aloft for the bleary-eyed mother to see.
Maidservant: (frightened) She is weak—she may not even live to see the dawn. This child is cursed to be born on such a night.
Jocasta: (weakly) The King—tell the King—his son is born…
Narrator: The maidservant jerked her head toward the door, and a young midwife left to carry out the Queen’s orders. She gazed sadly at her mistress. Jocasta was nearly a child herself, barely sixteen—the King a man of thirty. It would be a pity if a royal mother died at such a young age.
Flashes of lightning ticked off the seconds until Laius the King came bursting into the stifling room. He had been eagerly awaiting the birth, the birth of his heir. The maidservant displayed his child to him, and he took it into his arms.
Laius: (anxiously) A boy?
Maidservant: Yes, Your Majesty.
Laius: (overjoyed) Praises to Zeus! Oh, my young pretty, you have done your husband well.
Narrator: He put a hand to her streaked face.
Jocasta: (weakly, in a delirium) Yes. Laius. Laius. Don’t go. Don’t go.
Maidservant: (grimly) The Queen is not well. She has lost much blood. She may not survive this night.
Narrator: The King looked to his feeble wife—his joy washing away.
Laius: (softly) You cannot die, my wife. You’ve just brought our happiness into the world. You must live—live to see this blessing of ours grow into a—(startling boom of thunder)
Narrator: Laius stopped in mid-speech. A flash of lightning had silhouetted the dark form standing near the doorway—a new arrival to the birthing chamber.
Jocasta: (frightened) Laius!
Laius: (angrily) Who’s there? How dare you enter our royal quarters! Explain yourself at once!
Narrator: The wiry frame of a man stood forward. In a smooth motion he threw his muddy traveling cloak back from his shoulders. Darkness shrouded him once again.
Laius: (enraged) Speak, spy! What is your purpose here? Speak! Or we will burn the words out of you. What have you seen?
Narrator: Yet another flash from the skies lit the face of the stranger. Overflowing their sockets were two bulging eyes, a milky glaze across pale irises.
Teiresias: (coyly) See? I see nothing in this world, my king. But in the next, I see much.
Narrator: The King and his young wife stared in horror. The child let out a shriek.
(wail of a child)
Teiresias: Silence that child. I am sent from my master with a message for you.
Laius: You will make no orders here. What master would you have higher than me? I am the king, and there can be no higher.
Teiresias: Not so. I serve Lord Apollo, Your Majesty.
Narrator: These words caught Laius by the throat. Olympus had sent his man with the news of Apollo, God of Prophecy, upon his lips.
Laius: (nervously) Forgive me. Your master is surely higher than I. What news do you have for me? Will my wife die from this birth?
Teiresias: Do not forget your place in the world, King. The gods see and direct all. (pause) Your wife will die because of the birth of your son—but not for many years hence.
Jocasta: (terrified) Laius, what does he mean?
Teiresias: (angrily) Were you not warned about this child? Were you not told what an ambomination he would be to your country?
Laius: (hesitantly) Warned? Well, yes. But that was years ago. I am a King—I must have a son! Who will rule after me?
Teiresias: The jackals and the dark creatures of night will rule after you, Laius King. The Oracle spoke then, and the Oracle speaks now. If Laius shall have a son, that son will slay him.
Jocasta: No!
Teiresias: But I have said only half, my lady. If Jocasta shall bear a son from Laius, that son will come to share her bed—in unholy love.
Narrator: The Queen cried out in fright and fell back upon her bed in a swoon.
Laius: (yelling) Silence! Do not speak those words! I forbid it!
Teiresias: I speak as I am commanded. These words have been spoken before, but you chose not to listen. They fly from my lips once again—one final warning against this child.
Laius: (forcefully) Leave immediately, or I will have you gutted—your head stuck on a pole.
Teiresias: I am quite safe from your threats. Lord Apollo keeps me close to his side. You have heard his words. Heed them.
Narrator: A lightning bolt—one much bigger than the others—shook the walls of the chamber. When the flashing subsided, the blind man was gone—vanished without a trace. The serving women rushed to the Queen, while the King looked at the wriggling child in his arms.
Jocasta: (reviving) What can we do? What can we do? Our baby—our baby.
Narrator: Laius rounded angrily upon the servants.
Laius: (determined) Leave us at once! Forget what you have seen and heard here this night, or I shall put out your eyes and cut your ears from your heads.
Narrator: The serving women fled terrified. They had witnessed the cruelty of Laius before. As she darted past, the King caught the final maidservant by the arm and pulled her close.
Laius: (hissing) Fetch me the shepherd. Tell him it is time to prove his loyalty to his king.
Maidservant: (stammering) Yes—yes—my lord.
Narrator: Freed from his grip, the woman dashed into the corridor. Laius turned and lowered his newborn son into his wife’s pleading hands. Frantically, Jocasta searched the face of her husband.
Jocasta: (frantically) Is it true? What can we do?
Laius: (angrily) Quiet, Woman! I’m trying to think!
Jocasta: (whimper)
Narrator: Gritting his teeth, Laius clinched his hair within two fists. He turned, quickly, and ripped a dagger from his belt.
Laius: (sternly) Now do exactly as I command. Hold up the child!
Jocasta: (crying out) Laius! No!
Laius: (loudly) Do as I say!
Narrator: The frightened girl raised her child up into the air. The King moved closer—dagger in hand.
Laius: (ceremoniously) Child born on this hateful night, you are no longer the heir of Thebes. I curse you as the gods have cursed you. You are no son of mine.
Narrator: Spitting upon the infant, he seized its two tiny, kicking feet and pushed the point of the dagger through each. Blood gushed forth, and the child wailed.
(wailing child)
Laius: He will show these scars forever. They will show that he was born a commoner, an illegitimate—no son of the king. The King shall have no son.
Narrator: In the darkness the royal sheep-herder entered, panting and frightened.
Shepherd: (out of breath) You sent for me, Your Majesty?
Narrator: The King turned—the wailing, blood-stained child in his arms.
Laius: Take this boy into the wilderness and leave him on the mountain of Kithairon to die.
Narrator: Horrified, the servant looked up to his master.
Shepherd: (stammering) But—but—Your Majesty. Who is this child?
Laius: You need know nothing more. Do as I say—or you will find your neck stretched by the executioner’s rope.
Narrator: The shepherd took the screaming infant into his arms and backed slowly from the chamber. The Queen began to weep, and the King held his head to hers.
Laius: (whispering) Shhhhhhh. Forget that child. He died in the womb. Stillborn. Forget him. His memory will fade soon enough.
Narrator: And so in the midst of a tempest as the Earth had never seen, the baby was carried into the wilderness by loyal hands. The kind shepherd had known as soon as he had taken the bundle into his arms that he would not be able to leave it to die. And as he pushed through the battering rain into the wilderness, he had been formulating a plan.
The night sky lit up like noon for a moment. The jagged peak of Kithairon towered above.
Shepherd: (to the baby) Tonight, the gods are angered. But you do not fear them, little one. The heavens have crashed, but you haven’t made a sound.
Narrator: The rough man stopped and looked down into the bundle he shielded from the rain.
Shepherd: If you do not fear the gods, why should I fear a king? We’ll find you a home and tell your wicked parents that you have died. It will be our little secret.
Narrator: Soon the storm subsided, and the thin glow of dawn broke the horizon. On one of the many mountain paths, the shepherd happened upon a traveler.
Shepherd: Which way are you headed, Brother?
Servant: I return to Corinth. I serve the King there.
Shepherd: Take this child for me. Thebes is no place for him. Find him a good home. Living with me in the wilderness is no fate for such a child.
Narrator: The traveling servant saw the shepherd’s urgency, and he agreed to take the child.
Shepherd: I cannot thank you enough. (to the child) Goodbye, little one. I wish you all the happiness in the world.
Narrator: The Corinthian servant bore the child back to his homeland. Upon his return, he was greeted with horrific news. A sudden plague had taken the life of the newborn prince. The King of Corinth, the servant’s master, sat brooding and mourning the loss of his son.
Servant: (meekly) Sire, I know your loss is great, but I believe the gods have given you a second chance. A stranger in the wilderness gave me this child, an orphan, and told me to find it a good home. Will you take it as your own and forget your grief?
Narrator: King Polybus marveled at such a coincidence and at once declared the intervention of Olympus. He accepted the baby as his own son and named him prince of the realm.
Polybus: But his feet have been wounded. What trials this child has already suffered. We shall call him Oedipus for his swollen feet. Relax, Little Oedipus, your troubles are over.
Narrator: Years passed.
The child Oedipus experienced the happiest of days that any child could. He was kept completely ignorant of the royal adoption, which had so changed his fate.
The child with the swollen feet soon grew into a young man, and when he reached eighteen years of age, he prepared for the ancient ritual of manhood.
Oedipus: (confidently) Father, I am ready.
Polybus: To do what, my son?
Oedipus: To go to Delphi, of course. To visit the Oracle.
Polybus: It’s a long road. Are you sure you’re up to it? You can always go next year, you know.
Oedipus: I’m ready to hear my fate and become a man.
Polybus: Your mother and I will miss you terribly. I remember my own journey to the Oracle, you know. Be careful, and hurry home.
Oedipus: I will.
Narrator: The journey from Corinth to Delphi proved uneventful. Excitement fueled each and every of Oedipus’ steps. When he at last climbed the crooked mountain that housed the Oracle’s cave, his heart beat in furious anticipation.
Oedipus: (cautiously) Hello? Is anyone in there?
Narrator: Inside the cave turned into a cavern, and Oedipus cautiously made his way into its mouth. The air soon became cool, and hissing mist rose from the cracked floor.
Oracle: (booming voice) Enter, Young Man.
Narrator: A young woman was seated on a tall, metal stool ahead in the darkness.
Oedipus: (nervously) It is I, Oedipus.
Narrator: He winced at his own words.
Oracle: (quiet laugh) Swollen foot. I know your name—and its meaning.
Oedipus: I am the Prince of Corinth. I’ve come to hear my fortune.
Oracle: (slyly) Fortune would be an odd word for a future such as yours.
Oedipus: (scared) What do you mean?
Oracle: (grimly) All ahead is darkness—darkness of mind—darkness of thought.
Oedipus: (nervously) For me? Are you serious? This is Oedipus.
Oracle: (dry laugh) Everyone always expects happiness. Not everyone can be happy. I don’t deal in lies—only Truth. Now listen closely. Once it is said, I will speak no more. (pause) Oedipus, you are destined by high Olympus to commit two horrible sins. You shall murder your father—and marry your mother.
Narrator: The heart of the young man went cold.
Oedipus: (weakly) No. No. There must be some mistake. (pleading) It’s—it’s only a prophecy. It can be changed—right? Oh please tell me it can be.
Narrator: Robed priests appeared from nowhere and seized Oedipus by either arm. As they pulled him toward the cavemouth, he continued to cry out.
Oedipus: (yelling) Tell me it can be changed! Tell me, please!
Narrator: But the Oracle only closed her eyes and bowed her head. She had spoken.
It was hours before the boy moved again. He lay upon the mountain, stunned, listening to the wind rip through the crags. When he did finally rise, he did so completely against his will. Gasping for breath, he turned and vomited among the bushes. He turned his red-rimmed eyes heavenward.
Oedipus: (decidedly) If this truly is my fate, I will undo it.
Narrator: With weary, halting steps, he descended the mountain. At its base, two paths stretched out before him. One lead to a home that he could no longer return to. The other—into the wild, the unknown.
Oedipus: Goodbye, Father. Goodbye, Mother. You won’t understand, but at least you will be saved from your wretched son.
Narrator: Oedipus struck out—down the unknown path—fleeing fate with the words of the Oracle burning in his mind.
Slow steps broke into a run, and at last he fought back tears. He ran and ran until his sides ached as if they would split open. Then he lay down in the dirt and remained still. The hot summer sun beat down upon him, and the bright, white light consumed his mind until he knew nothing else.
Old Man: (yelling) Halt! What is going on here? Stop! Stop!
Narrator: Oedipus opened his weary eyes. Through the swirling dust, he saw an old man on a horse snarling down at him. The boy sat up.
Old Man: (angrily) Get out of the road, you miserable peasant!
Narrator: Oedipus rose as the old man glared at him fiercely. Behind him there followed a group of servants.
Old Man: (sarcastically) Sorry to interrupt your nap. It’s hard enough to get our caravan down this road without riff-raff lying across it.
Narrator: Heat rushed to Oedipus’s face.
Oedipus: (dangerously) Watch it, old man. You’re dealing with someone who is cursed—a murderer.
Narrator: The old man roared with laughter.
Old Man: (loud laugh) We are certainly frightened. We should have ridden over you when we had the chance. (forcefully) Now, Trash, move—or we will move you ourselves.
Narrator: Immediately, anger thrilled through every vein of the boy’s body.
Oedipus: (roaring) I will not!
Old Man: (coldly) Very well.
Narrator: The man pulled a knotted whip from his satchel, raised it up into the air, and brought it swiftly down toward Oedipus’s face.
(cry of pain, whip-crack)
The boy ran forward, avoiding the blow. Seeing nothing beyond his own rage, he barreled into the side of the old man’s horse. (neigh of a horse)
Old Man: (crying out) Ah!
Narrator: The force of the blow knocked the old man from his mount. Flailing his arms madly, he fell—pitching to the side—landing hard upon his neck.
Oedipus: (yelling in a frenzy) Ha! Who controls the road now, you old buzzard!
Narrator: Oedipus seized the abandoned whip from the man’s limp hand and turned upon the servants.
Oedipus: (yelling) Who’s next?
Narrator: Terrified, the remaining travelers fled.
Oedipus: (yelling) That’s right! Run, Cowards! Run from the cursed one!
Narrator: Oedipus seethed with satisfaction as he saw the last of them disappear down the road.
Oedipus: Your friends have abandoned you, old man.
Narrator: The boy turned back to the fallen form. It remained motionless—its head turned at an odd angle. The riderless horse nuzzled its master.
Oedipus: (breathlessly) Gods. I killed him. I killed him.
Narrator: He stared at the whip in his hand and then threw it to the ground.
Oedipus: She was right. If I’m capable of this—I’m a monster.
Narrator: A sudden fear burned inside of him. Fear of himself. Fear of the deed done by his own hand. He did all he knew how to do: he fled.
Oedipus traveled for days, haunted by his dreams and hunted by phantoms. He took no notice of where his feet led him. Landscapes rose and fell. So it was no surprise that he did not happen to see that the roadside fields soon became barren, and he no met no more travelers. Even the shining whiteness of the bones that littered the roadway escaped his notice.
It took the towering form of the Sphinx blocking the road to stir his attention.
Sphinx: (otherworldly) Halt, mortal.
Narrator: Oedipus looked up from his daze, but his eyes remained bleary. The most bizarre creature he had ever seen was seated beside the road.
The head of a woman was gazing imperiously down at him. That is where the creature’s womanhood ended. The body and furry haunches of a lion drew the various parts together: the wings of an eagle and the tail of a snake.
The Sphinx was leisurely licking her paw upon her bed of bones.
Sphinx: You’re awfully calm for being in the presence of a monster.
Oedipus: (daze-like) I could say the same for you.
Sphinx: I have killed a hundred men. Their bones litter the roadways. Do you not fear me?
Oedipus: (numbly) I fear only myself.
Narrator: A smile of intrigue passed over the Sphinx’s womanly face.
Sphinx: Perhaps you wish to die. Is that why you’ve sought me out?
Oedipus: Kill me if you must. Rid the world of the cancer you see before you.
Sphinx: Don’t be too hasty, mortal man. I don’t kill for the sake of killing. I’m actually a very civilized creature. I believe in giving everyone a sporting chance.
Oedipus: (sarcastic) How noble. A civilized monster.
Sphinx: I will give you the same chance I have given everyone else who happened to pass this way. The chance to solve my riddle.
Oedipus: Riddles are for children. What if I refuse to play?
Narrator: The Sphinx smiled at him.
Sphinx: (beastlike) Then I shall eat you—slowly—one end at a time.
Oedipus: I’ll play your little game. At least if I lose, my misery will come to an end.
Sphinx: (happily) That’s the spirit. I’m also very fair. If on the off chance you actually win, I will voluntarily forfeit my own life. Here is my riddle:
Narrator: The Sphinx cleared her throat and spoke in a resonating boom.
Sphinx: What creature walks on four legs in the morning, two legs at noon, and three legs in the evening?
Narrator: The wind lazily whipped up the dirt around them.
Oedipus: How much time do I have to answer the question?
Sphinx: As long as my patience holds out.
Narrator: Though he did not will it, Oedipus’s mind began to move and click.
Oedipus: (absentmindedly) Perhaps she does not mean only one day. There is a morning and an evening to life.
Sphinx: (growing impatient) Your time is running out.
Oedipus: Life changes many creatures. Many creatures walk on two legs, and many creatures walk on four legs. But three legs—there is the riddle.
Sphinx: (screaming) Enough of your babbling! Do you know the answer or not?
Oedipus: Of course, that’s it.
Sphinx: (angrily) My patience is growing thin!
Oedipus: Man. The answer is man. We crawl in the morning of our lives, we walk on two legs in our prime, and when we are old we walk with a cane.
Narrator: Oedipus smiled in spite of himself, and he looked almost surprised to see the Sphinx still standing beside him. A bizarre light had come into her eyes, and she shrieked. (hellish shriek)
With huge swoops of her wings and a gust that pushed Oedipus to the ground, she took to the air, howling and wailing. She didn’t fly far, but climbed high and then fell, fell down into the faraway sea—extinguishing her own life.
Oedipus: (understated) Huh. I guess she was a civilized monster after all.
Narrator: A sudden corner was turned in Oedipus’s mind. He felt his spirits revive. He still held the power to put the past behind him.
As he continued on the path, he noticed for the first time that nothing was growing for miles around. The Sphinx had brought a curse upon the land.
At last a set of shining city walls gleamed in the distance. They shone out like hope—a new start. When Oedipus neared the massive gate, he found it bolted against him.
Guard: (shouting) Who’s there?
Oedipus: (shouting) A traveler!
Guard: There have been no travelers on this road for months! The Sphinx has killed them all.
Oedipus: Let me in! I have killed the Sphinx.
Narrator: The guard looked down at the boy in shock. He turned to his fellow guards and conversed in hushed tones.
Guard: (hesitantly) Very well. Come inside. We shall take you to Creon, and he will decide what to do with you.
Narrator: The gigantic doors opened. Oedipus was taken roughly by either arm and escorted into the city.
Oedipus: Everyone seems a bit on edge here. What city is this?
Guard: You are in Thebes, Stranger. You have come at our darkest hour.
Narrator: Soon Oedipus found himself the royal hearing hall. The Creon they had spoken of was a thin, serious man wrapped in a black robe. He looked at Oedipus distrustfully.
Creon: (suspicious) Are you a spy? Tell only the truth.
Oedipus: No, Sir. As I told the guards, I am a traveler.
Creon: If you are a traveler, where did you come from?
Oedipus: I came here from Delphi.
Creon: (snorting) Impossible! There is a monster who kills any who travel on that road!
Oedipus: Not anymore. I have destroyed it.
Creon: (disbelief) You? How?
Oedipus: I solved its riddle.
Creon: Since when do man-eating beasts ask riddles?
Oedipus: This one did, and it threw itself into the sea when I won its game.
Creon: A foolish claim to make, young man. We will be able to confirm your story soon enough. If we find that you are lying, we will put you to death.
Oedipus: Has the monster caused all this paranoia?
Narrator: Creon looked at Oedipus coldly.
Creon: (slowly) Our king is dead. Killed by roadside thieves.
Oedipus: He must have been a foolish man to travel with such a creature at large.
Creon: (coldly) He went by a secret path that rejoins the road to Delphi. He was seeking the Oracle. But I owe you no explanations. What is done is done. Until we have checked out your little story, you shall be a prisoner.
Oedipus: (angrily) What right do you have to keep me prisoner?
Creon: I am in charge here now. The Queen is my sister, and I rule until a new king shall be chosen. Take him away.
Narrator: Oedipus spent many days in the Theban jail. Creon dispatched men to verify his tale. No trace of the creature could be found. The news spread through the city that the mysterious stranger had slain the monster.
It was Creon himself who came to free Oedipus from his cell.
Creon: I have to apologize for doubting you, young man.
Oedipus: I understand your doubt. I can hardly believe it myself.
Creon: The people are overjoyed. They sing your praises. I have also been charged to tell you that they wish to make you their king.
Oedipus: (shocked) Me? Why?
Creon: You have saved us. I am the people’s humble servant. If they wish you to rule them, I will not stand in their way.
Narrator: Oedipus could barely believe it. Was this truly his good fortune? Had he escaped his destiny at last?
Oedipus: (happily) I accept.
Creon: There is one thing you should know. In order to legitimize your claim to the throne, we ask that you marry our queen. Her time of morning for her husband has ended, and she is still young enough in years.
Oedipus: May I meet her first?
Creon: Certainly.
Narrator: The Queen pleased Oedipus. He was surprised at her beauty. True, she was some years older, but she had worn her years well. There was still life and love within her.
Oedipus became the King of Thebes, and it seemed that he had in fact escaped the foul prophecy of his past. With Jocasta, his new wife, he was exceedingly happy. And once again the years passed by like a breeze.
Together they raised a royal family, two boys and two girls, each with the vibrant glow of life in their eyes. Oedipus all but forgot his past, and the darkness that had threatened to consume it. Thebes loved their king, and it seemed that a happy ending would be had after all.
Then came the drought. The skies refused to give up their rain, crops failed, and the people began to starve. Only the gods could be the source of such a misfortune.
Oedipus: Send a man to Delphi at once. Ask the Oracle what must be done to remedy this problem.
Narrator: It was strange, but he barely remembered the words she had spoken to him so long ago. All he knew was that they were spoken in error. He had proved them false.
A messenger was dispatched and returned in haste. The Oracle had spoken: the murderer of the old king must be found and put to death. Then, and only then, the skies would give forth rain once again.
Jocasta: (joyfully) Thank the gods! They are crying out for justice at last!
Oedipus: I was told of Laius’s death when I came here. I’ll send out the soldiers to search the highways. Any bandits there must be put to death—then we will have rain.
Narrator: This news relieved Oedipus. It seemed an easy solution. He called for Creon.
Oedipus: Creon, brother. Do the men who traveled with Laius when he was murdered still live?
Creon: I am sure they do, my lord. If you remember, it happened shortly before you arrived here in Thebes.
Oedipus: Do you remember their names? May we question them?
Creon: They were servants and slaves. They barely understood what they saw happening.
Oedipus: (angrily) There must be some way of solving this riddle! The gods would not leave us with a way out.
Creon: There is man who wanders near Thebes—a blind man, who is said to have the sight of the gods.
Jocasta: (excitedly) Teiresias! Of course. He will tell us what we need to know.
Oedipus: Summon him. Let us put an end to this mess.
Narrator: Word was sent out through Thebes: Teiresias must be brought before the King. The old blind man came soon enough, led there by a young boy. He stood proudly before the throne.
Teiresias: (old voice) What does King Oedipus wish to know of the gods?
Oedipus: Teiresias, Dephi has sent us a message: Thebes must find the man who murdered Laius the former king. Only then will our land be healed.
Teiresias: This land will never be healed while you sit upon the throne, my lord.
Oedipus: (in shock) What did he say?
Jocasta: (angrily) How dare you speak to the King in such a way?
Narrator: The old man began to laugh a cruel laugh.
Teiresias: (mockingly) You fools. Do you not see?
Creon: (angrily) Do you mock your king?
Teiresias: I mock those who deserve it. Come, boy. We must leave.
Narrator: The old man turned to go.
Jocasta: (loudly) Stop! Tell us what we want to know!
Narrator: The old man stopped and turned.
Teiresias: What can the past hold but sadness? Why dig up things long buried? Let your kingdom die and perhaps you will live.
Oedipus: (coldly) Tell us, or I will have you put to death.
Teiresias: (slowly) I do not fear you, but do you not fear my words?
Oedipus: (firmly) Nothing you say can shake us.
Teiresias: Very well. I know the man whom you seek, King. He is here in this very room.
(loud gasping)
Oedipus: (yelling) Where, Teiresias? Where?
Teiresias: The man you seek is yourself. You yourself killed the king—or do you not remember?
Narrator: They all froze, and Jocasta was the first to break the silence.
Jocasta: (laugh) The old fool! I see his game now! He’s making a joke.
Creon: (angrily) Lies! Oedipus never met Laius! Who has bribed you to say such treachery?
Teiresias: (sadly) I expected as much. Fools refuse to see the Truth.
Oedipus: (slowly) I can assure you, noble seer—I have never killed anyone.
Narrator: Teiresias smiled.
Teiresias: You tried to run—and now you try to lie. But nothing can save you. Do you forget so soon, an old traveler, who attempted to break you with his whip?
Narrator: The stomach of Oedipus sank into his feet.
Oedipus: (stunned) But—but—that man was no king. He was a dusty traveler on the road to Delphi.
Teiresias: Would a king wear his crown on such a journey?
Creon: (figuring it out) That’s true. He was going to see the Oracle.
Oedipus: (numbly) But I didn’t know.
Teiresias: You still fail to see the whole picture, my lord.
Jocasta: (angrily) What do you mean? What other treason would you dare utter here, you madman?
Teiresias: My lady, you of all people should have seen the similarities. You should have looked at Oedipus and seen him as what he truly is—your and Laius’s son.
Narrator: The queen laughed a strange laugh—half snort, half shriek. Oedipus only turned pale.
Jocasta: (ranting) Impossible! Our child was cast into the wilderness. Laius pierced his feet to mark him for death.
Narrator: Teiresias nodded grimly.
Teiresias: I remember the night very well, my lady. Perhaps we should ask the king. Sir, what marks do you bear upon your feet?
Oedipus: (numbly) Two scars. (realizing) But my father was the King of Corinth.
Teiresias: The shepherd who was sent with you into the wilderness took pity on you. If only if he had killed you as he had planned. His mercy has cursed you.
Creon: (angrily) You lie!
Teiresias: I expected such disbelief. I have sent for the shepherd. He dwells near the mountain still. He will be here soon enough to verify my story.
Oedipus: But I was no shepherd’s son! I was raised as a prince! How do you explain that?
Teiresias: That kind shepherd gave you to a passing traveler to take into Corinth. That man presented him to his lord, the king of Corinth, who adopted you as his son.
Narrator: Immediate grief washed over Oedipus’s face as the truth broke in upon him. Jocasta stared at him in wordless horror.
Oedipus: (in disbelief) How could I have known? How could I have known?
Jocasta: (softly) Then it was true. Our child did murder his father—and—and—married—
Narrator: She looked to Oedipus with white, trembling lips.
Jocasta: (whispering) Forgive me. (yelling) Gods! What have I done?
Narrator: Crying to the heavens and tearing her gown, Jocasta rushed from the room.
Oedipus: (crying out) Jocasta, no!
Teiresias: (loudly) You can fight it no more. You have fought it since you were born. Accept it—accept your curse!
Oedipus: (screaming) No! No!
Narrator: Oedipus dashed after his fleeing wife, grasping blindly at her flowing robes. She rushed into her chambers, and the door slammed into his face.
Oedipus: (yelling) Jocasta!
Narrator: He began to throw himself against the door—a madman—attacking it with all his might.
Oedipus: (wailing) Open the door! Open the door!
Narrator: When at last the door splintered and he broke through, he immediately hid his eyes in horror. Dangling from the ceiling from a twirling rope was the body of his Queen. Her eyes pale and looking heavenward.
Oedipus: (weakly) No—no—no. Why have you done this to me?
Narrator: He stumbled forward and fell to the floor beneath her suspended feet. His hand grasped something cold. It was a brooch pin, fallen from her now broken neck.
Oedipus: (angrily, insane) Why? Why? Why should a man live in such a world? Why should I see such a monstrosity? My wife and mother dead before my very eyes? And all because of me. I have been blind—blind! Now, I will be blind forever.
Narrator: Releasing the point of the pin, he drove it sharply into each of his eyes. Blood poured down his cheeks, and sobs racked his body.
Rushing up on the grisly scene, Creon appeared in the doorway and gasped at the horror before him.
Creon: (calling out) Teiresias! Oh gods! Teiresias! Come and tell me what I should do! The Queen is dead, and the King has gone mad.
Narrator: The blind man was already there—placing a calm hand on Creon’s shoulders.
Teiresias: Pick him up. Wash him. And send him away. Thebes is yours again. Let it be healed.
Narrator: Creon turned to the prophet in confusion.
Creon: This man is my brother. Surely I owe him more than that.
Teiresias: You have asked, and I have told you. Listen to the will of the gods.
Creon: But his children…
Teiresias: His daughters will go to him and care for him when they are older and ready to accept their parents’ sin. Until then, Oedipus will roam the countryside—blind and forgotten.
Creon: I don’t know.
Teiresias: He did not listen to the gods. Will you ignore their commands as well?
Narrator: Creon paused.
Creon: Very well. I will send him into the desert.
Teiresias: It is what must be done.
Narrator: The servants were sent for, and they came timidly into the horror of that place. They took down the body of the Queen and bandaged the wounds of the King.
Creon: (sadly) I mourn for such a wretched man.
Teiresias: (quietly) Do not mourn too loudly, King Creon. Sadness will be no stranger to your own home. Farewell—until our next meeting.
Narrator: And so the stooped and bandaged form of Oedipus was led away and left again to the will of the wild. He walked blindly now with broken steps, running his fingers over parched lips, trying to remember his former life. He would wander alone for many years, cursed and eternally spurned by the gods—until they finally took pity and allowed him to pass beneath the earth, where his wearied soul at last could find rest. HeHe
