Euripides, Phoenician Women 1–87: Prologue: Jocasta tells the story of the house of Oedipus

O Sun-god, you who cut your path in heaven’s stars, mounted on a chariot inlaid with gold and whirling out your flame with swift horses, what an unfortunate beam you shed on Thebes, the day that Cadmus left Phoenicia’s realm beside the sea and reached this land! He married at that time Harmonia, the daughter of Cypris, and begot Polydorus from whom they say Labdacus was born, and Laius from him. I am known as the daughter of Menoeceus, and Creon is my brother by the same mother. They call me Jocasta, for so my father named me, and I am married to Laius. Now when he was still childless after being married to me a long time in the palace, he went and questioned Phoebus, and asked for us both to have sons for the house. But the god said: Lord of Thebes famous for horses, do not sow a furrow of children against the will of the gods; for if you beget a son, that child will kill you, and all your house shall wade through blood. But he, yielding to pleasure in a drunken fit, begot a child on me; and afterwards, conscious of his sin and of the god’s warning, he gave the child to shepherds to expose in Hera’s meadow and the crag of Cithaeron, after piercing his ankles with iron spikes; from which Hellas named him Oedipus. But Polybus’ horsemen found him and took him home and laid him in the arms of their mistress. So she suckled the child that I had borne and persuaded her husband she was its mother.

When my son had become a man, with tawny beard, either because he had guessed or learned it from another, he set out for the shrine of Phoebus, wanting to know for certain who his parents were; and so did Laius, my husband, seeking to learn if the child he had exposed was dead. And the two of them met at the branching road of Phocis. And Laius’ charioteer ordered him: Stranger, make way for the king! But he walked on without a word, in his pride. The horses with their hoofs drew blood from the tendons of his feet. Then—why need I speak of matters outside these evils?—son slew father, and taking his chariot gave it to Polybus, his foster-father. Now when the Sphinx was oppressing and ravaging our city, after my husband’s death, my brother Creon proclaimed my marriage: that he would marry me to anyone who should guess the riddle of the crafty maiden. It happened somehow that my son, Oedipus, guessed the Sphinx’s song; and received the scepter of this land as his prize. He married his mother in ignorance, luckless wretch! nor did his mother know that she was sleeping with her son. I bore my son two sons, Eteocles and the hero Polyneices, and two daughters; the one her father called Ismene; the other, which was the elder, I named Antigone. Now when Oedipus, who endured so much, learned that he was married to his mother, he inflicted a dreadful slaughter upon his eyes, making the pupils bloody with a golden brooch. But when my sons grew to bearded men, they hid their father behind bars, so that his misfortune, needing as it did much skill to hide it, might be forgotten. He is still living in the house. Afflicted by his fate, he makes the most unholy curses against his sons, praying that they may divide this house with a sharp sword.

So they were afraid that the gods might fulfil his prayers if they dwell together; and they made an agreement, that Polyneices, the younger, should first leave the land in voluntary exile, while Eteocles should stay and hold the scepter, and then change places yearly. But as soon as Eteocles was seated on the bench of power, he did not leave the throne, but drove Polyneices into exile from this land. So Polyneices went to Argos and married into the family of Adrastus, and having collected a numerous force of Argives is leading them here; and he has come against these very walls of seven gates, demanding the scepter of his father and his share of the land. Now I, to end their strife, have persuaded one son to meet the other under truce, before seizing arms; and the messenger I sent tells me that he will come. O Zeus, dwelling in the bright folds of heaven, save us, and reconcile my sons! For you, if you are really wise, must not allow the same mortal to be forever wretched.