Oedipus
Act 1.
OEDIPUS REX NEW
A
play based on Sophocles’ “Oedipus Rex”
© Eso A. B., 2014
Act One
(King Oedipus comes to the stage through
the courtyard gate. He approaches the altar, the priest, his daughter Ismene,
and all who are gathered around. He embraces and kisses Prince Geon.)
Chorus:
Savior! Savior!
Blessed
by Your Name
in song without end.
King Oedipus:
My
children, my sons, my daughters,
Citizens of Thebes,
why do you listen
to a
priest write words so strange
that no
one understands their meaning?
Why are you so sad?
I’ve come to listen and learn.
What ails you?
Why are you listening to this frog?
(The King turns to the priest.)
You, with the long white shirt
—I don’t know your
name—
You’ve ribbited and croaked long enough
of congregations long
vanished.
Why
do you disturb
men
and women of the wood,
all proud cityzens
of Thebes now?
Speak to me
on behalf of those not
used to addressing a King.
What do they fear?
What
do they want?
Priest:
King of Thebes, King Odipus!
Archpriest Tiresias bade me come
to
speak to young and old,
Thebans all.
See,
oh King,
we are bent around the altar,
we are presenting our offerings, our gifts:
bread soaked in honey,
honeyed bits of cheese,
and fruit.
We await the Gods.
But no Spirits come.
We can wait no longer,
lest clouds of wasps
and flies
add
their sting
to our fears.
There are murmurings, King Oedipus,
that Artemis, Mother Earth,
is sending forth
toads
croaking for the blood
of our congregation;
perhaps the blood of
our children
—as in the times when
not even a
dozen sacred whores
with
their arses high and heads low,
all
bent to welcome insatiable John,
could
move the God to listen.
Look, O King Oedipus!
The air does not move.
We wait for the incense
to rise and curl
as when a spirit is present.
Instead we smell
burnt
fur
and our ears hear silent ridicule.
O King, our prayers speak our fears.
King Oedipus, call the Gods;
call our
great-grandfather Cadmus;
raise your hands to the
Sun,
speak loving words.
Chorus:
Many
years ago you brought us better days.
You freed us from the
curse of the Sphinx.
You cleared the sacred wood of sinister thickets,
where we abandoned our babes and the old,
who had followed the flag
of
jugglers and piping dancers.
The
poor
weary from walking
miles of mountain roads
fell asleep yet on their feet.
Some were overcome
by panic.
We,
guardians of children
and sacred trees alike,
too, fell
by the roadsides from exhaustion
and
pain of heart.
Though
we prayed,
we prayed without hope
until you came and
saved us,
O
Savior, Oedipus!
Because of you we no longer fear
dark
tales about wolves.
Because of you
our children no longer swing their arms
trusting they can fly across any abyss
we thrust them into.
Because of you, Savior,
we no
longer dream of vultures
with faces like that of
angels
on blue wing
raising everyone
smiling from the dead.
King Oedipus, Savior
of our children then,
we’ve suffered a stroke
to our will again.
No one smiles, no one laughs.
We beg you,
Savior
of children and all,
to
speak to our congregation again
with power that saves.
Don’t hold back your healing hands
or endearing words.
Don’t let anyone say
you promised us light,
yet a dark shadows return.
King
Oedipus::
Dear citizens of Thebes,
my children,
your hope gives me hope.
I know your pain.
I am
of flesh like you.
However, you surely know
that
I suffer more.
I suffer misfortunes of my own
as well as the
misfortunes of Thebes.
Like you, I, too, have children,
I give them much
thought
and believe
I know
where
to look and find the answer.
I’ve sent Prince Creon,
the
Hercules of loggers,
brother of Queen
Iocasta,
and
auditioner of thousands
of
reindeer bleats,
a man bound by painful
oaths.
You surely know
thats honesty is a tax
collector’s
.
invention for failure
to render tax collectors
their due.
This very moment
Creon is visiting
the Sun's holy temples,
and consults with the
priestesses of the Sun.
All throw acorns
struck from oaks by
lightning
and
have been moldering
in wait of the occasion.
This very moment
the priesteses read
by the lay of the acorn's fall
what we must do to save Thebes.
Priest:
The guards in the tower signal
Prince Creon has returned.
King
Oedipus:
With good news, I hope.
Priest:
The news is good.
Prince Creon comes
with a smile on his face.
King
Oedipus:
We’ll soon know.
.... Here he is.
Greetings, Prince!
(Enter Prince Creon.)
Prince
Creon:
Hail, King Oedipus!
How hails Thebes?
King, I have an urgent message for you.
Let the servants dust my sandals.
Then
let us go to your chambers,
where I can rest my feet
and tell all I have learned.
King
Oedipus:
Prince, do not wait to speak.
Speak here, now.
We’re all anxious to hear
what must be done to heal?
Prince
Creon:
The Sun wants deeds not words.
If I
tell Her revelations without regard,
it may bring some to rash conclusions,
others perhaps to rash deeds.
King
Oedipus:
What revelations, what deeds?
We need no mystery.
What is the message?
Prince
Creon (whispers):
The
Sun’s maids send you
in
lieu of reindeer fur
a sack full of gold.
King
Oedipus:
It is no secret
that
our cityzens welcome gifts.
Gold has a heavenly shine.
Nevertheless,
do not delay.
Tell us what you know.
What did the Sun's maids tell you?
Tell us.
All Thebes
suffers one pain.
Prince
Creon (reluctantly):
Remember that government
is of the righteousness of a King
without fault.
No one must be in doubt.
Therefore, what you
hear
isn’t
told by me,
but was told me
by the maids of the Sun.
With their ears licked clean
of holy nectar
by the larva of bees,
the maids said:
"Go
weed the weed
before
its roots sink to depths,
whence
we no longer can uproot it.
Only a hand with four fingers
has the power to do it.
King
Oedipus:
What weeds are you talking about?
Who
is born with four fingers?
Harvest time has come and gone..
Weeding time is past.
Prince
Creon:
The weed, King Oedipus, is a man.
We must find a man
and remove him
from
the midst of our cityzens.
The Sun didn’t give his name.
That is for us to discover.
Else Thebes will be in debt to a murderer.
His
roots like that of a lilac
will sprout
upward.
The
odor of the King
will
turn stink.
King Oedipus:
A murderer? Who?
Prince
Creon:
King Oedipus,
it is not a secret to you
that before you came to Thebes,
we were governed by King Laius.
He was son of King Cadmus,
the founder of Thebes,
whose cowardly sons,
Otus and Ephialtes,
cowered and failed
to sacrifice their little fingers
for the sake of Thebes.
Therefore, Cadmus put his own
finger between the Dragon’s teeth,
thereby gaining the right
to restore harmony
by cutting off the right arms
of his twins.
King Oedipus:
I know of this King, but never met him.
I am
told he blinded himself
out of grief!
When
his sons
mistook
each other for a reindeer
and
with their spears
struck themselves not the deer.
Where should we look
for the murderer?
Have you seen his footprints?
What evidence will lead us to him?
Prince
Creon:
We have to look in our own land.
We must overlook the shadows cast by words,
but must look at deeds.
It is deeds alone that
tell what happened.
We
must look for a man
with five fingers.
King
Oedipus (folding his hands one into the other):
Did King Oedipus die in his castle?
I have heard that king Laius died
traveling
through another land,
in a
wood.
I have heard rumours
that a man
reluctant
to kill his reindeer for taxes
killed him
Prince Creon:
The king had an appointment
with certain men
bringing him secrets
from a neighboring
kingdom.
They met in the wood.
The king never returned.
All his bodyguards,
all honest
tax collectors,
all sworn
to support our holy empire
were killed,
but one.
King
Oedipus:
Secret meetings in the wood are risky.
What said the survivor?
Can he identify the perpetrators,
the traitors?
How many were there?
Creon
Prince:
The man gave no clear answer.
He said he saw our king laid to his rest
in a wild boar’s muddy wallow
with but leafy branches
to cover his sacred
body.
He told that he could
lead us
to the remains.
But he was poisoned
before we could tell you
his secret.
Thus,
no roots of sacred tree
stich Laius’s remains
to Mother Artemis
as ancient custom calls
for.
The king's ghost moans
in the wind at night.
King
Oedipus:
That means the murderers
have friends among us.
Did the man have a wife?
We need some clue.
Prince
Creon:
The man had no wife.
He left no descendants.
He worked as a hand at the king’s stable
and left no inheritance
other than the clay dork
he used to pleasure the kitchen maids with.
King Oedipus:
Was Laius’ bodyguard of impotent men?
Prince
Creon:
We tried to follow the murderers’ tracks,
But they had sheathed
the hooves of their reindeer in rags.
They left no marks.
King
Oedipus:
I’m grateful to the Sun
for Her advice.
I’m thankful, Prince Creon, for the news.
My children, take your garlands
And return to your homes.
Call a Council of our Elders.
Tell their King
wishes to consult with them.
The men who killed King Laius
are a threat to us all.
I will do all I can to discover them.
The government and citizens of Thebes
must be protected.
Priest:
Rise, Thebans.
Our prayers have been heard.
King Oedipus will save us as surely
as
his forebears laid Thebes
foundations.
(Exit King Oedipus et al. Only the Chorus
remains.)
Strophe:
Goddess of Hope!
Tell us the words writ
on the roof of the cupola
over the sylvan well in the deeps of the wood.
Let the flickering light writ on hammered gold
shed blessings on Thebes.
Dear Sun, comfort our uneasy hearts.
We are much relieved to be free
of the
need
to sacrifice our
children
and are free of the
curse
to kill ourselves in
their place.
Hail King Oedipus.
The King has released us
of our paralysis!
He did us a service once,
he
will save us again.
Antistrophe:
It was said that after the Sphinx
was driven from the wood,
her priest issued a
curse:
“Men, women, and King”, he shouted,
“will have to sacrifice themselves
for letting children live!"
Remember what King Cadmus said?
“Only when we are ready
to sacrifice our little
finger,
and throw it
between
standing armies
and have them stare at
it
only then
will they begin to taunt each other
of cowardice long enough
to fall prey
to their own swords.
Only then will war
become a healing force.”
Strophe:
The charisma of sacrifice will unite us
in a history worth blessing.”
Antistrophe:
Ha! Spare us!
Today our children roam foreign lands.
and relish losing themselves
in crowds.
Become anonymous,
they have no
responsibilities.
They act with boldness
that is never held to
account.
They will defend to the end
the
rights of their little finger.
They say they need all their fingers
if they are to grow
rich.
Strophe:
Our teeth chatter like the beaks of storks.
We fear the other side
of the moon
is crisscrossed by blood.