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the play for this program, oedipus tyrannus by sophocles. now your host, mr. jose ferrer. the play you are about to see is oedipus tyrannus or oedipus rex by sophocles. this play was first performed in athens in the theater of dionysus about 24 centuries ago. aristotle, who might be called the first drama critic, considered it the perfect tragic drama. the rest of the world has more or less gone along with that down through the centuries. sophocles wrote some 120 plays in his lifetime, but only 7 have survived. when his first play was chosen for competition, he was in his early 20s and he won first prize. his last play was written when he was 90 years old. sophocles was an artist of the noblest genius, whose art transformed the severe truth of life into theater reality

while tempering it with the beauty of poetry. standing at the very apex of the golden age of greece, he was recognized by his contemporaries as one of the glories of that epic. from aristotle's discourse on tragic drama, from the existing plays themselves and from the ruins of the many theaters scattered throughout greece, the aegean islands and asia minor, scholars have developed various theories about the origin of drama. most agree, however, that drama began as a celebration of spring, a ceremonial right of sacrifice to dionysus, the god of vegetation, fertility and wine. on these joyful communal occasions, a chorus of men, dressed in goat skins, danced and sang songs, leading a procession through the city streets to a spot outside the walls. there, an altar was erected.

and there, a statue of the god dionysus was placed to receive the honors of the season. eventually, a single actor emerged from the chorus as leader. dialogue began and drama was born. by mid-fifth century b.c., theater and drama had evolved as a sophisticated art form. the great dionysus spring festival took place in late march or early april. its culminating event was a three-day contest of the best playwrights. three contestants each offered three tragic dramas. over here was space reserved for the officials and dignitaries of the city, nearest the orchestra where the chairs of state occupied by the priests of dionysus and by the choragus,

the private citizen who paid for each days' productions. this whole tiered section was called the theatron or seeing place. and all theaters of the classical age, both greek and roman, basically followed this model. great theaters existed at delphi, at epidaurus in the peloponnesus, at ephesus in asia minor and at rome. at delphi, the theater fits naturally into its hillside setting, facing as every greek theater did, a magnificent view. at the foot of the hillside theatron is the circular orchestra where the chorus danced, sang and performed. behind this was the platform stage or skene. simple at first, it grew more elaborate over the years.

eventually, a storied structure ornamented with numerous statues faced the audience. such a structure provided not only backdrop but also tiring rooms where the actors could change costumes and masks. sophocles, we are told, was the first playwright to use painted scenery. here at the theater of epidaurus, where greek dramas still are presented 24 centuries later, we get an excellent view of the round orchestra and of the parodoi. through the parodoi, the audiences entered and also the chorus when time came for the play to begin. the chorus, usually numbering 12 or 15, was rigorously trained and rehearsed for its role by the choragus. it explained in a prologue the drama's action, set the mood, introduced the actors,

sang, danced and served as the voice of the audience. wherever the greek influence was felt, theaters were built. when rome came into contact with the greek world, romans, too, began building theaters. at the height of the roman empire, practically every town, even small towns, had its theater. often, these were quite imposing structures built at imperial expense or donated by some wealthy citizen. pompeii, the town that was buried under volcanic ash and partially preserved, had two handsome theaters, a small one for mimes, poetry reading and musical shows, and a large one for dramatic performances and spectacles. by this time, the romans had distinguished between theater as popular entertainment and theater as an art form. ephesus also boasted two such theaters.

and so did verona, where the larger theater had become an amphitheater for grand scale spectacles. when rome fell and the classical world with it, the theaters fell into disuse and decay, but not forever, for with the dawn of the renaissance, interest in greek culture and learning revived. the preserved written accounts were studied, manuscripts of great greek playwrights-- aeschylus, sophocles, euripides--were read, and a rich tradition of greek drama once again entered the cultural mainstream of the west to take its place in our heritage. sitting in the theatron at the theater of dionysus, mountains all around, sunshine and blue skies above, the audience already knew the legend of oedipus,

the son of laius and queen jocasta of thebes. when oedipus was born, a prophecy warned that he would murder his father and marry his mother. the horrified parents ordered a servant to destroy the child, but the man took pity on him and gave him instead to a foreigner to take to the city of corinth. there, the child was adopted by king polybus and queen merope, and brought up as their own. when oedipus grew to manhood, he journeyed to delphi to consult the oracle. there, he, too, was warned he would murder his father and marry his mother. and now it was his turn to be horrified by the prophecy, and he fled, putting as much distance as he could between himself and corinth. along the way, he was forced from the road by the servants of an old man who is driving a chariot. the angry oedipus slew the old man and all his servants except one who escaped. later, while approaching thebes, which he did not realize was his birthplace,

oedipus encountered a sphinx who was destroying all citizens who could not answer riddle. oedipus gave the correct answer, and for this, was hailed as a hero and elected king of thebes. he married the former king's widow, had children and, for some time, reigned in peace. then a pgustruck city. seeking divine help, oedipus sent to delphi for an instruction. the instruction was, find the murderer of former king laius, for the plague will continue until the murderer is found. the audience already knew that oedipus, the investigator, was himself the murderer he sought. now, since we know the story, our interest is in how the playwright treats it dramatically. the modern production of oedipus tyrannus we are about to see is designed for a television studio rather than an open-air theater. so there are some some necessary modifications such as fewer chorus members

and a different look in the masks and costumes. [music] oedipus, i think that i have a right to know what is disturbing you. and know you shall. so deep for my fears for the future. who is more to me than you? whom else should i tell as i pass through these trials? my father was polybus, king of corinth, a dorian named merope, my mother. i was accounted corinth's leading citizen until something happened to attack my happiness.

strange enough, though i perhaps took it too seriously. at a dinner party, a sot in a drunken stupor shouted out that i was a bastard. that hit me hard. for the time being, i held myself back. the next day, i challenged my parents. they were furious at the slur, furious at the idle slander. this comforted me. all the same, the thing kept rankling. there was a whispering campaign. next day, without telling father or mother, i made for delphi. phoebus sent me away, disappointed in my immediate inquiries. instead, in his reply, he brought to light other disastrous calamities. i was doomed to be my mother's lover, to produce for men to see a family accursed in their sight and to kill my father, the man who gave me life.

i paid attention, i took to my heels. from that moment, corinth was for me a place to be plotted by astronomical calculations. i made for some land where i should never see that doom fulfilled which the dreadful oracles foretold. and as i traveled, i reached those regions where you say the monarch of this land was killed. my dear wife, i will tell you the whole truth. as i walked along not far from that very crossroads, i met a herald and with him a man in a horse-drawn carriage just as you described. the man in front and the old man, too, were for pushing me violently off the road. one of them, the driver, jostled me. i lost my temper. i hit him. the old man saw it, waited his moment, leaned from the carriage, and as i passed, hit me full on the head with the two spikes of his goad. one blow from the staff in this hand of mine, he rolled out of the carriage and fell on his back. i killed the lot of them.

if that foreigner bore any relation to laius, i am the most miserable man alive, utterly rejected by the gods. no one, citizen or foreigner, may welcome me into his house or even speak a word to me but mustwas drive me away. and it was i, myself, i, no one else who laid this curse on myself. i am actually polluting the bed of the man i killed with the hands that killed him. i must have been damned from birth. i am utterly unclean. i must go into exile, and in exile, i may not even speak to a person or set foot in my own fatherland for fear that i will be joined to my mother and kill my father, polybus, the man who gave me life and brought me up. would it not be some just conclusion to say that all this is an attack on me by some malignant god? no. no.

you holy majesty of the gods, save me from seeing that day. let me vanish from the sight of man that i see the stain of that disaster spreading over me. we, too, are fearful, your majesty. but until you hear the story from the man in person, keep up your hope. yes. that is all that is left for me, to wait for the shepherd. no more. and what are you so anxious to ask him when he appears? i will tell you. if he still tells the same story then i am free from disaster. and what is of special interest in my story? the bandits. you were saying he was killed by bandits in the man's reports. if he still sticks to the same number, i was not the killer. no mathematics can make one equal more than one. but if he speaks of a single man traveling alone, then the scales of justice are turned against me. well, i can assure you that that's how the story was originally told. he can't go back on that. i wasn't the only one. the whole city heard it.

but suppose he does diverge from his earlier account, oedipus, he'll never show that laius' death squares properly with the prophecy. apollo expressly said he was doomed to die at my son's hand. that poor might never killed him. he died himself long before. from now on, i wouldn't shift my gaze to left or to right because of a prophecy. you are right. all the same, don't fail to send someone for the shepherd. i'll do so right away. let's go inside. i don't want to do anything of which you wouldn't approve. [music]

may destiny find me winning a reputation for purity in speech and action as the high-footed laws provide. these laws which came to birth into clear air or heaven fathered by none other than olympus, no mortal of nature gave them birth. oblivion can never lay them to rest. god is great in them and he does not grow old. overbearing breeds the autocrat. overbearing, surfeited yet not satisfied with ill-gotten, unprofitable wealth. it climbs to the top of the citadel and plunges to an inescapable doom

where their useless foot fails. but i pray that god will never relax an ambition that serves the state. i shall never fail to hold the god as our defender. [music] if for the works of his hands or the words of his mouth, any man who is haughty has no fear of justice, does not honor the god's shrines, if he will not seek his gains with justice or hold back from irreligious acts, if he rationally touches things taboo, mere evil destiny cease him for his ill-starred bride. in a state like that, what man can boast to shield his life from the gods' arrows?

if such behavior is honored, why should i join the ritual dance? [music] no more will i go on pilgrimage to earth's central inviolate shrine, nor to the temple at abae, no more to olympia if the oracles do not come true so that all men point to them. almighty lord, if you are rightly so called, zeus, ruler of all, lets them not evade you and your ever-living power. the oracles about laius are ancient and fading. men are ignoring them. apollo is nowhere manifest and honor. religion is gone.

princes of the land, an idea struck me to go to the gods' temples carrying in my hands these garlands and incense offerings. oedipus' excitement is rising far too high of trouble of every kind. he's not behaving like a man of sense and evaluating the future by the past. he's at any alarmist orator's mercy. i've offered advice and got nowhere.

so i've come in supplication to you, lycian apollo, as he all the nearest with the prayer offerings, praying for freedom from pollution by your grace. that it is we're all fearful when we see our ship's pilot knocked off balance. gentlemen, may i learn from you where king oedipus' palace lies, better still if you happen to know where he is in person? this is his house and he is at home. this lady is the mother of his children. then i pray for her lasting happiness and the happiness of those around her, his admirable wife. god bless you too, sir. your kind words deserve a blessing. but tell me why you've come here? do you want something? have you some news? good news, madam, for your husband and family. well, what's the news? where do you come from? corinth, madam. my news in a moment will bring you pleasure, of course, perhaps some distress too.

what is it? it's strangely ambivalent. the people of the isthmus are likely to elect oedipus as their ruler. that's the general view there. how is that? isn't old polybus still on the throne? no. he's dead and in the grave. what did you say? is oedipus' father dead? polybus is dead, or else may i die. you, quick, run and tell your master the news. where are you now, oracles of the gods? this is the man that oedipus so long avoided in fear of killing him and now he's died a natural death, not killed by oedipus. my dearest wife jocasta, why have you sent for me to come out here? listen to this man. and as you listen, judge how the proud oracles of the gods turn out. who is he? what's his news for me?

he's come from corinth with news that your father, polybus, is no longer alive but dead. what's that, sir? enlighten me yourself. if you want me to begin with a simple statement of the facts. polybus is dead and gone. you can be sure of that. was there treachery or the visitation of some disease? oh, with old age, a small weight tips the balance towards sleep. and so the poor old man died of some sickness? and of old age. he'd lived a long time. i'm sorry. jocasta, why should one bother with the hearh of delphic prophecy or the screams of birds in the sky? on their interpretation, i was bound to kill my father. he's dead and buried beneath the soil. i never took up arms against him, unless, perhaps, he died of longing for me

and then perhaps his death may be laid at my door. but as things stand, polybus has swept up these oracles and taken them with him to hades. they're worthless. i told you all that long ago. you did. fear pulled me the wrong way. so don't take them to heart anymore. but surely i must fear my mother's bed. why should a man be afraid? chance rules his life. he has no clear foreknowledge. better to do what's in your power and take life as it comes. and don't be afraid of marrying your mother. many men in the past have slept with their mothers in dreams. it's the man that ignores such things who has the easiest life. fine words, all of them. but my mother's alive. and while she's alive, i can't help being anxious no matter what you say. but your father's death is a great shaft of light. yes, that's true. but the woman's alive. and i'm afraid... who is the woman who stirs you to such fear?

merope, oh graybeard, polybus' partner. what is it about her to cause you fear? a terrifying divine oracle, sir. can you reveal it or is it unlawful for others to know? certainly. apollo once told me that i was doomed to marry with my own mother and to shed my father's blood with my own hands. that's why i spent many years so far from corinth. years of blessing, now it's a joy to look into one's parents' eyes. and was it in fear of this that you went into exile? yes, sir, to avoid murdering my father. and your majesty, why don't i once free you of your anxiety. i've come for your good. you've certainly not find me ungenerous. in fact, that was my real reason for coming is something in it for me when you return home. i shan't go near my parents. my son, clearly, you don't know what you're doing. what do you mean, graybeard?

if that is why you refrain from coming home. for fear of the fulfillment of phoebus' articles. termination of guilt through your parents? yes. that's my fear. and it's continually with me. but don't you realize your fears are quite unjustified? why? if i'm their son and they my parents? because polybus was no relation of yours. what? wasn't polybus my father? as much as any man here no more. how can one who is nothing to me but equal to my father? i was not your father. he was not either. then why did he call me son? he took you from my hands as a present. could he become so attached to a present from another's hands? yes, he had been so long without a child. you gave me to him. did you buy me or find me by chance? i found you in cithaeron's winding glens. what were you doing in those paths? i was in charge of mountain flocks. you were a hired shepherd. and at that time, your preserver, my son.

what was the trouble with me when you found me? your own ankles should be evidence of that. oh, why remind me of that pain from the past? there was a pin through your ankles. i released you. yes. i have carried that mark of shame from my infancy. and it was this that gave you your present name. was this my mother's doing or my fathers? for the god's sake, tell me. i don't know. the man who gave you to me would have a better idea on that. you had me from someone else. you didn't find me yourself. no. it was another shepherd who gave you to me. who is he? can you identify him? can you tell me? i think he was known as one of laius' men. the former monarch of this land. yes, the shepherd was in his service. i want to see him. is he still alive? oh, you people who live here would best know that. can any of you here present identify the man of whom he speaks? have any of you seen him here or in the fields?

tell me. the moment of truth has come. i think it is, in fact, the peasant you've already sent for. but jocasta is here and can say as well as any. dearest, the shepherd we have asked to come, is this the man in question? why bother with the man at all? pay no attention. forget all that's been said. it's pointless. impossible. with clues such as these in my possession, i can't fail to uncover my birth. but for god's sake, don't. if you care for your own life at all, call off the hunt. i'm plagued enough already. i may be found by triple slave and my mother, a slave of a third generation, but nothing base will attach itself to you. please. please listen to me and don't do it. i won't listen. i must find the truth. i'm speaking in our own best interests. i'm tired of hearing of my own best interests.

unhappy man, god save you from knowing who you are. will someone go and bring that shepherd to me? let the queen joy in her noble family. poor, lost soul. i have no other word for you. i will never have another. oedipus, why has the queen left us in such a passion of wild grief? i fear a storm of disaster will break from her reticence. let it break, if it will. i am determined to see the seed from which i spring, however humble. jocasta, how like a woman's pride, is probably ashamed of my low birth. i hold myself a child of fortune. she is kindly. i shall not suffer dishonor. she is my mother. i, her child.

the months my brothers have marked me out, humble one moment, powerful another, that's my breeding. i could not prove false to it and fail to discover my birth. [music] if i am a prophet and wise in discernment, by olympus, you, cithaeron, shall recognize at tomorrow's full moon that oedipus honors you as his fellow countrymen, his nurse and his mother. that we know you in dance for you have found favor with our rulers. apollo, to whom we cry, look kindly at us.

who was your mother, my son? which of the long-lived nymphs bore you to mountain ranging pan as your father? or was it some bride of apollo. he loves all the upland pastures. was it cyllene's lord? did the mine axe god who holds the mountain peaks receive you as a blessing from some nymph of helicon with whom he loves to play? i've never met him, elders. but i think i see the shepherd we have waited for so long. he's an old man, it tallies with our friend here. but, you perhaps know better than i do. you've met the man before.