OEDIPUS TYRANNUS OR SWELLFOOT THE TYRANT A TRAGEDY IN TWO ACTS TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL DORIC 'Choose Reform or Civil War, When through thy streets, instead of hare with dogs, [Begun at the Baths of San Giuliano, near Pisa, August 24, 1819; published anonymously by J. Johnston, Cheapside (imprint C. F. Seyfang), 1820. On a threat of prosecution the publisher surrendered the whole impression, seven copies-the total number sold-excepted. Oedipus does not appear in the first edition of the Poetical Works, 1839, but it was included by Mrs. Shelley in the second edition of that year. Our text is that of the editio princeps, 1820, save in three places, where the reading of ed. 1820 will be found at the foot of the page.] ADVERTISEMENT THIS Tragedy is one of a triad, or system of three Plays (an arrangement according to which the Greeks were accustomed to connect their dramatic representations), elucidating the wonderful and appalling fortunes of the SWELLFOOT dynasty. It was evidently written by some learned Theban, and, from its characteristic dulness, apparently before the duties on the importation of Attic salt had been repealed by the Boeotarchs. The tenderness with which he treats the PIGS proves him to have been a sus Boeotiae; possibly Epicuri de grege porcus; for, as the poet observes, 'A fellow feeling makes us wondrous kind.' No liberty has been taken with the translation of this remarkable piece of antiquity, except the suppressing a seditious and blasphemous Chorus of the Pigs and Bulls at the last Act. The word Hoydipouse (or more properly Oedipus) has been rendered literally SWELLFOOT, without its having been conceived necessary to determine whether a swelling of the hind or the fore feet of the Swinish Monarch is particularly indicated. Should the remaining portions of this Tragedy be found, entitled, Swellfoot in Angaria, and Charité, the Translator might be tempted to give them to the reading Public. SCENE I-A magnificent Temple, built of thigh-bones and death'sheads, and tiled with scalps. Over the Altar the statue of Famine, veiled; a number of Boars, Sows, and Sucking-Pigs, crowned with thistle, shamrock, and oak, sitting on the steps, and clinging round the Altar of the Temple. Enter SWELLFOOT, in his Royal robes, without perceiving the PIGS. Swellfoot. Thou supreme Goddess! by whose power divine These graceful limbs are clothed in proud array 5 [He contemplates himself with satisfaction. The Swine. Eigh! eigh! eigh! eigh! Ha! what are ye, Who, crowned with leaves devoted to the Furies, Cling round this sacred shrine? Swine. Aigh! aigh! aigh! Swell foot. What! ye that are The very beasts that, offered at her altar 15 20 See Universal History for an account of the number of people who died, and the immense consumption of garlic by the wretched Egyptians, who made a sepulchre for the name as well as the bodies of their tyrants. [SHELLEY'S NOTE.] SHELLEY With blood and groans, salt-cake, and fat, and inwards, What! ye who grub Swine. Ugh! ugh! ugh! The Swine.-Semichorus I. The same, alas! the same; Semichorus II. If 'twere your kingly will Us wretched Swine to kill, What should we yield to thee? 35 Swellfoot. Why, skin and bones, and some few hairs for mortar. Chorus of Swine. I have heard your Laureate sing, Under your mighty ancestors, we Pigs Were bless'd as nightingales on myrtle sprigs, The murrain and the mange, the scab and itch; First Pig. I suck, but no milk will come from the dug. The Boars. We fight for this rag of greasy rug, Though a trough of wash would be fitter. 40 45 50 Semichorus. Happier Swine were they than we, I wish that pity would drive out the devils, Guard. Enter a GUARD. Your sacred Majesty. Swellfoot. Call in the Jews, Solomon the court porkman, Moses the sow-gelder, and Zephaniah The hog-butcher. Guard. They are in waiting, Sire. Enter SOLOMON, MOSES, and Zephaniah. 55 60 65 70 Swellfoot. Out with your knife, old Moses, and spay those Sows [The PIGS run about in consternation. That load the earth with Pigs; cut close and deep Moral restraint I see has no effect, Nor prostitution, nor our own example, This was the art which the arch-priest of Famine Moses. Keep the Boars quiet, else Swell foot. 75 Let your Majesty Zephaniah, cut 80 That fat Hog's throat, the brute seems overfed; Seditious hunks! to whine for want of grains. Zephaniah. Your sacred Majesty, he has the dropsy ;— We shall find pints of hydatids in's liver, He has not half an inch of wholesome fat Upon his carious ribs Swell foot. 'Tis all the same, He'll serve instead of riot money, when Our murmuring troops bivouac in Thebes' streets; Of butchering, will make them relish carrion. Now, Solomon, I'll sell you in a lump The whole kit of them. Solomon. Why, your Majesty, 59 thy ed. 1820; your ed. 1839. Kill them out of the way, I could not give— Swell foot. 95 [Exeunt, driving in the SWINE. Enter MAMMON, the Arch-Priest; and PURGANAX, Chief of the Council of Wizards. Purganax. The future looks as black as death, a cloud, Dark as the frown of Hell, hangs over itThe troops grow mutinous-the revenue failsThere's something rotten in us-for the level Of the State slopes, its very bases topple, The boldest turn their backs upon themselves! 100 Mammon. Why what's the matter, my dear fellow, now? Do the troops mutiny?-decimate some regiments; Does money fail?-come to my mint-coin paper, To show his bilious face, go purge himself, In emulation of her vestal whiteness. Purganax. Oh, would that this were all! The oracle !! And whether I was dead drunk or inspired, I cannot well remember; nor, in truth, The oracle itself! Purganax. The words went thus: 'Boeotia, choose reform or civil war! When through the streets, instead of hare with dogs, Mammon. Now if the oracle had ne'er foretold 105 115 Or Lesbian liquor to declare these words, Which must, as all words must, be false or true, It matters not: for the same Power made all, 120 125 Mammon. Yet our tickets Are seldom blanks. But what steps have you taken? 130 For prophecies, when once they get abroad, Like liars who tell the truth to serve their ends, 114 the ed. 1820; thy cj. Forman; cf. Motto below Title, and II. i. 153–6. ticket? ed. 1820; ticket! ed. 1839. 129 |