BONN'S CLASSICAL LIBRARY

THE PLAYS OF EURIPIDES
VOL. I

LONDON: G. BELL & SONS, LIMITED,
PORTUGAL STREET, KINGSWAY, W.C.
CAMBRIDGE: DEIGHTON, BELL & co.

NEW YORK : THE MACMILLAN CO.
BOMBAY : A. H. WHEELER & CO.

THE PLAYS

OF

EURIPIDES

TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH PROSE FROM THE
TEXT OF PALEY

BY

EDWARD P. COLERIDGE

ORIEL COLLEGE, OXFORD

VOL. I

LONDON

G. BELL AND SONS, LIMITED
1910

CHISWICK PRESS: CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND co.

TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, LONDON.

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

PAGE

I. TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE vii

II. MEMOIR OF EURIPIDES xv

III. TRANSLATION, WITH NOTES, OF NINE PLAYS, IN THE

FOLLOWING ORDER :—

RHESUS i

MEDEA 31

HIPPOLYTUS 73

ALCESTIS .115

HERACLEID^: . . . , . . . . . 151

THE SUPPLIANTS ........ 185

THE TROJAN WOMEN 225

ION . 263

HELEN , 319

PREFACE.

IN preparing the following translation of the plays of
Euripides I have followed the text of Paley as it stands
in the "Cambridge Greek and Latin Texts' series" 1869.
Similarly, too, the order of the plays conforms to his arrange-
ment.

Without going into lengthy details for my choice of this
text, I may briefly mention a few reasons for having selected
it. First, there is the accessibility of this edition ; secondly,
its very general use to-day by the mass of English readers,
in preference to the once popular " Poetae Scenici " of
W. Dindorf; and thirdly, its superiority in many respects
to all previous editions of the complete body of plays, due
partly to its greater fidelity to the MSS. readings, partly to
the more metrical arrangements of choral passages.

In some ways, perhaps, the adoption of a particular text
saves the translator much trouble by precluding him from
straying far afield into the region of textual emendation ; but,
at the same time, it not unfrequently forces him into direct oppo-
sition to his own opinion, if he consents to follow it without
any deviation and to yield implicit obedience to its authority.

At the risk of incurring the chance of inconsistency,
I have, though as a rule adhering rigidly to Paley's text,
occasionally allowed myself the liberty of following the
emendations of other scholars, where for the sake of
clearness or on grounds of probability, there seemed fair
reasons for so doing; but in every such case attention is

Viii PREFACE.

called to the divergence in a footnote, and the actual Greek
words of the variant text are quoted.

Into the question of MSS. authority I do not here venture
to digress at any length. The majority of English readers
probably take small interest in such investigations; while
the few who do pursue them further, will naturally have
good critical editions within reach, and in these a full dis-
cussion of this subject more usefully finds a place. Those,
however, who, without making a special study of the MSS.,
wish to see shortly on what authority any particular play of
our poet rests, cannot perhaps do better than read the few
remarks offered by Mr. Gow on this subject in his excellent
volume, entitled, " Companion to School Classics " (Mac-
millan, 1888). From his concise summary and from Paley's
more exhaustive essay in Vol. III. of his large annotated
edition of Euripides, I extract the following very brief account
of the Euripidean MSS., omitting all superfluous details : —

(1) Nine plays are found complete in MS. Vaticanus (i2th

century), and in several other MSS. in part ', viz. —
Hecuba, Orestes, Phcenissae, Medea, Hippolytus,
Alcestis, Andromache, Troades, Rhesus.

(2) Seven others rest on the authority of two MSS. only,

the Palatinus in the Vatican and Florentinus 2
(both 1 4th century), viz. — Heracleidae, Supplices,
Ion, Bacchae, Iphigenia in Tauris, Iphigenia in
Aulide, Cyclops.

(3) Three plays, Helena, Hercules Furens, and Electra

are found only in Florentinus 2.

Another point requiring explanation, perhaps, is my treat-
ment of corrupt passages. Only those who have set them-
selves carefully to examine the text of an ancient classic,
more especially that of a Greek dramatist, can be fully aware
of the difficulties that beset the student from first to last.
The ravages of time, the ignorance of copyists, the more

PREFACE. ix

dangerous officiousness of grammarians, the perverted in-
genuity of successive editors infected with the pernicious
"cacoethes emendandi," have all contributed in the course
of many centuries to render the task of arriving at the
genuine text an almost hopeless one.

'4 The whole question of the present state of our classical
texts," wrote Paley, in the preface to his third volume of
Euripides, "is one demanding a most careful and lengthened
inquiry. If we cannot have them perfect, which is not to be
hoped for, we must make up our minds to choose between
adhering to the authority of the best existing MSS., or freely
admitting the conjectural restorations of eminent critics, or
we must adopt a cautious mean between the two, which
consists in correcting obvious errors, to the rejection of all
purely speculative or only plausible alterations."

It is this last method which Paley himself adopts ; and,
agreeing cordially as I do with his strictures on unwarrant-
able tampering with the text, I have endeavoured as far as
possible, to follow his guidance through the tortuous mazes
of textual corruption ; with this reservation, however, that,
as my purpose is a twofold one, being as much to enable
readers unfamiliar with the Greek to understand the drama-
tist's meaning as to produce a faithful version of the original,
I have, in dealing with passages avowedly corrupt, preferred
to adopt provisionally an intelligible emendation to leaving
an awkward break in the sense. At the same time, from a
textual critic's point of view, Paley's remark is unquestion-
ably true, "passages really corrupt should be marked as
avowedly corrupt, not patched up and almost rewritten."

On the other hand, it is by no means certain at times,
whether, in the attempt to follow the supposed genuine
reading, an editor has not rushed to another extreme and
committed an error, pleasantly described by a recent reviewer
as " translating unintelligible Greek into unintelligible Eng-
lish and going on his way rejoicing." Absit omen !

X PREFACE.

As regards the addition of notes to this translation, the
few that are given have, for the sake of the reader's conve-
nience, been appended as footnotes, to avoid the necessity
of referring continually to an appendix. They are of two
kinds, dealing firstly, with variant readings and proposed
emendations, and secondly, with obscure allusions ; the
former being by far the more numerous class.

Euripides is an author, about whom and whose writings
so much has been written that a mass of notes is not only un-
necessary, but apt to distract and weary the reader, who pre-
sumably wishes to know not what a commentator but what
the author says and thinks. Still as there is occasionally an
allusion, the elucidation of which is necessary to a full un-
derstanding of the context, a few explanatory notes have
been added.

The adoption of Paley's edition as a textus receptus, has to
some extent obviated the need of calling attention on every
occasion to variations from the MSS., for that which he has
admitted I have in the majority of instances tacitly followed ;
wherever I have diverged from him I have noted the fact and
cited my authority for so doing ; and occasionally, when un-
intelligible or corrupt passages occurred, more than one of the
numerous emendations offered have been quoted.

There has been, and still is, in Germany, a large school of
critics, who settle textual difficulties by a method only praise-
worthy for its extreme simplicity ; they at once pronounce
spurious whatever appears to them hard to understand, and
so relieve Euripides of a host of more or less time-honoured
" cruces." Against such a charming plan for elucidating his
author Paley resolutely sets his face, and, it may be, goes
a little too far in the opposite direction in his sturdy conser-
vatism and retention of passages almost certainly spurious
or interpolated.

I do not feel called upon, in the capacity of translator, to

PREFACE. XI

discuss the genuineness of any of the plays attributed to the
poet. Where single lines have been called in question by
Paley or Nauck, by Dindorf or Kirchhoff, I have generally
noticed their objections, without, however, absolutely omit-
ting the lines. But when the genuineness of large portions
of plays is at stake, as in the case of the conclusion of the
" PhcenissaV' or of frequent passages in the " Iphigenia in
Aulide," to say nothing of the entire " Rhesus," I have not
made any allusion to the voluminous controversies that have
been carried on over them.

In alluding briefly to editions of Euripides, other than
that of Paley, I cannot sufficiently express my debt to the
critical apparatus prefixed to Vol. I. of the Teubner edition
("Euripidis Tragcedise ex recensione Augusti Nauckii.
Editio tertia. Lipsiae, 1887 "), which I have consulted
throughout ; as well as to the critical notes appended to
Hartung's edition, an edition one might employ with still
greater advantage, were it not so full of his own daring and
not unfrequently capricious corrections ; to Jerram's useful
little volumes in the Clarendon Press series, the value
of which is immensely enhanced by the addition of brief
critical notes on the most important variant readings ; and
lastly, to several editions of separate plays, amongst which
for English scholars, Sandys' edition of the " Bacchse "
ranks facile princeps as a book which every student of
Euripides will value and appreciate ; to the careful but some-
what laboured works of Pflugk and Klotz, a few only of
whose volumes I have read through ; and lastly, to VerralPs
edition of the " Medea," and Mahaffy's edition of the
" Hippolytus," both of which works are full of interesting
suggestions, although, like Hartung's, they seem to admit too
many variations into the text. What Paley has called the
"subjectivity " of the editor is almost too conspicuous ; so that,
what with rewriting in the one case and re-arranging in the

xii PREFACE.

other, the originals are, as it were, old friends appearing
with new faces. For a fuller account of the numerous
modern editions of separate plays reference may be use-
fully made to Professor Mayor's " Guide to the Choice of
Classical Books," new edition (George Bell and Sons). Of
the older editions of Euripides, Paley gives a brief account
in his introduction to Vol. Ill , cited above, from which and
from the article on Euripides in Dr. Smith's large Bio-
graphical Dictionary, I extract a short resume: —

(i) Editio princeps of Euripides, containing the
Medea, Hippolytus, Alcestis, Andromache, pro-
bably edited by J. Lascaris, and printed by De
Alopa, at Florence, towards the end of i5th
century,
(ii) Aldus published 18 plays, omitting the Electra, at

Venice, 1503.

(iii) An edition published at Heidelberg, containing
the Latin version of JEm.il. Portus and a frag-
ment of the Danae. 1597.
(iv) Edition of P. Stephens. Geneva. 1602.
(v) „ of Barnes. Cambridge. 1694.
(vi) „ ofMusgrave. Oxford. 1778.
(vii) „ of Beck. Leipzig. 1778-88.
(viii) „ of Matthiae. Leipzig. In 9 vols. with the
Scholia and fragments and a Latin version.
1813-29.

(ix) A variorum edition. 9 vols. Glasgow. 1821.
(x) The Fragments by Wagner. Wratislaw. 1844.
Of separate plays there have been almost countless
editions ; but here it must suffice to mention a few of the
more famous editors : e.g., Porson, Elmsley, Valckenaer,
Monk, Pflugk, Hermann, etc., etc.

The only complete translation in English of any note,
actually known to me, is an old one in verse by Michael

PREFACE. Xlll

Wodhull (3 vols., London, 1809). In the author's preface
to this work, an exhaustive account of previous attempts in
the same field is given, which is not without interest as
showing the critical stand-point of that age.

In more recent times we have had Robert Browning's
" Balaustion," a beautiful poem in itself, and almost a
verbatim translation of the "Alcestis;" while not a few
scholars of modern days have shown their keen apprecia-
tion of the beauties of Euripides by presenting the world
with verse translations of portions of his works.

In conclusion, if it is necessary to say anything on the
vexed question of translations in general, one might perhaps
defend them against their traducers on the ground that,
when, as now, the whole world is bent on being examined
in every branch of knowledge, time becomes an object of
vital importance, and, if only to save this, translations have
a distinct value. There are many who wish to know the
contents of the ancient classics without being put to the
trouble of studying them closely in the original language ;
indeed, the number of those who will have leisure in the
future to study these great masterpieces is only too likely to
become even smaller than now as the pressure of examina-
tions and the range of prescribed subjects becomes daily
larger ; if, then, a translation can, in however an imperfect
way, serve to keep alive an admiration for the models of
antiquity, it will not have been undertaken in vain.

The form that any translation should assume is a point on
which few persons hold identically the same opinion. It is
a matter for individual taste. As far as I am concerned,
this knotty point has been decided for me by my publishers,
who have therefore saved me the trouble of weighing con-
flicting claims.

A prose version having been essayed, I have endeavoured
to produce one, which should combine, as far as the different

XIV PREFACE.

idioms of the two languages permit, an accurate rendering
of the Greek text with some elegance of expression. How-
far the execution falls short of the conception I am only too
painfully conscious. To be literal and at the same time
literary is a high goal to aim at ; and it is to be feared that
in all attempts of this kind, the amari altquid will rise both
for reader and writer. Still it will not be wholly in vain, if by
means of a translation, imperfect as this will doubtless appear
to many more competent to produce one than the present
writer, anything is contributed to the wider study of one
concerning whom a brother poet and dramatist once wrote :
"a poet whom Socrates called his friend, whom Aristotle
lauded, whom Menander admired, and for whom Sophocles
and the city of Athens put on mourning on hearing of his
death, must certainly have been something." (Quoted
from Goethe by John Addington Symonds in his " Studies
of the Greek Poets," ist series, p. 242.)

A SHORT MEMOIR OF EURIPIDES.

AS with so many other authors of classical antiquity, con-
siderable obscurity veils the details of Euripides' life ;
nor is it easy in the case of a dramatist, to gather from
chance utterances, spoken in character, the real sentiments
of the writer on any particular subject.

It is true that, apart from the numerous unfounded scan-
dals and legends which invariably surround any person of
eminence, certain broad facts regarding his life stand out
with tolerable clearness; but, for the rest, we are thrown
back upon conjecture based upon the weak evidence of
later writers or the gossip and undisguised malice of con-
temporary opponents.

Taking, first, the few details which are regarded as toler-
ably certain, we are informed that he was born in B.C. 480,
on the very day of the battle of Salamis, and in the island
itself, though others place his birth five years earlier. His
parents must have been wealthy people, and not improbably
of some rank, for their son was not only able to attend the
expensive lectures of Prodicus, Anaxagoras, and other
famous sophists and teachers of the day, but also held in hi?
youth certain offices, for which none but the nobly born
seem to have been eligible. As for the scandalous attacks
and ribald jests of the comic poets of the period regarding
his mother and her antecedents, the evidence of their having
any foundation in fact is so very slight that we may dismiss
them without serious consideration. The legend, for in-

b

XVI A SHORT MEMOIR OF EURIPIDES.

stance, which makes the poet's mother a seller of herbs and
not a very honest women either, no doubt served Aristo-
phanes for many a good joke at his enemy's expense ; but it
should be borne in mind that this brilliant caricaturist's
avowed object was to depreciate Euripides, and he certainly
was not very careful what use he made of current scandal
and perverted truth, so long as he could raise a laugh and
amuse his audience. Similarly, too, the stories which make
Euripides a man of dissolute habits, given up to vice and
pursuing it throughout his life till it led him to a violent end,
will be found, on examination, to rest on the flimsiest evi-
dence, and probably originated in the prurient imagination
of his numerous enemies or of readers who either misunder-
stood their author or too rashly inferred that they had found
a key to his character in some isolated passage, considered
without reference to its context

Passing to better authenticated facts, it is recorded that
the poet's father had him trained with extreme care to con-
tend in the footrace at Olympia, but that after winning two
prizes at less important games, he was rejected at Olympia
on account of some technical difficulty connected with his
age. From his own bitter remarks on the subject of athletes
and their habits in some interesting fragments of a play, en-
titled " Autolycus," we may fairly infer that he carried away
no very pleasant memories of that epoch in his life. Further,
we learn that he applied himself to painting and sculpture,
in the first of which arts he must have attained considerable
proficiency, for pictures of his were exhibited at Megaramany
years after his death, and there are frequent allusions in his
plays pointing to an intimate and appreciative acquaintance
with this subject.

He was twice married, each time, it is said, unhappily ;
some indeed have gone so far as to refer the constant dia-
tribes and sneers in his plays against women to his own per-
sonal experiences, forgetting perhaps, in their eagerness to

A SHORT MEMOIR OF EURIPIDES. XVll

advance this theory, that the poet has quite as frequently
drawn female characters of almost ideal tenderness, devo-
tion, and beauty. Of the three sons born to him, the
youngest, called after his father, produced his last plays, and
was himself also a dramatist by profession.

Late in life Euripides retired from Athens to Magnesia,
and finally accepted the invitation of Archelaus, King of
Macedon, to his court, then a home for men of letters and
savants of all kinds. Here his genius speedily advanced
him to royal favour, and it is even said that he was called
in to give his advice at the monarch's council-table. Pos-
sibly the distinction, with which he was treated, excited the
jealousy of rival court poets, for there is a story current that
he met his death from the bites of dogs set upon him by his
enemies as he was going to keep an assignation. This wild
story no doubt may have arisen from a confusion between
the poet and the plot of his last play, " The Bacchze," in
which Pentheus is torn to pieces by infuriated women. But
it is interesting both as showing the sort of calumny with
which vulgar scandal will assail the great, and also as point-
ing to the state of feeling which must have existed for such
an idle tale to originate at all. On his death in B.C. 406,
he was buried with great pomp at Pella, the Macedonian
capital, in spite of the request of his countrymen that his
remains might be sent to Athens.

Such are the few meagre details we are able to collect
from reliable authorities of the poet's life. From his own
writings and from somewhat doubtful sources a little more
has been conjecturally assumed. Thus we are told, with
great probability, that he was the friend of Pericles, of
Socrates, and Alcibiades, and that his friendship with the
two latter caused him to leave his native city rather than
risk the chance of incurring the odium and unpopularity
which eventually brought them to their deaths. Legend,
busy on this point as on others, has set down his retire-

xviii A SHORT MEMOIR OF EURIPIDES.

ment into Magnesia to the irritation caused him by the
merciless satire of Aristophanes on the poet's unhappy
experiences of married life, and it is unfortunately only
too likely that one who could make capital out of the
death of the man he disliked, would not hesitate to pour
out his venomous abuse on domestic scenes which modern
decency prefers to regard as sacred.

Born, as Euripides was, some time between B.C. 490
and 480, and dying in B.C. 406, his life comprised the
whole brilliant period of Athenian supremacy. Thus he
would have witnessed the successive steps by which Athens
attained in a short time a pinnacle of material prosperity
and artistic glory never reached before or after by any
other state in Hellas ; he would have admired the masterly
organization of the Delian Confederacy, have shared in the
varied splendours and triumphs of the age of Pericles,
rejoiced at the victories of Cimon, watched the successful
schemes of Athenian colonization, and followed with atten-
tive eye the many phases of that long and disastrous war,
which brought such suffering on his countrymen, and
finally left his city ruined and humbled at the feet of
Sparta. Amongst the circle of his acquaintance he might
have counted poets, painters, sculptors, historians, and
philosophers, whose productions are still the wonder of
the world and the despair of modern imitators.

Indeed, to know any one character of that great period
thoroughly it is necessary to know something of them all,
and only in this way can one hope to find the right start-
ing-point for a proper appreciation of this many-sided
poet, and to see how far he influenced and how far he
was influenced by his environment.

Euripides produced his first play, the " Peliades," in
B.C. 455, a year after the death of ^Eschylus ; it ob-
tained the third prize, but considering the poet's age and
the rivals he probably had to meet, this is no evidence

A SHORT MEMOIR OF EURIPIDES. XIX

of inferior work. Having once started it is probable that
he brought out tetralogies at regular intervals, till in B.C.
441 he attained the coveted distinction and won the first
prize, but the names of his plays on this occasion have
not been identified. Thrice again was he proclaimed
victor, on the last occasion with plays that appeared after
his death. This small measure of immediate success may
at first sight appear strange, for we know that he was
a prolific writer, some seventy-five or even ninety-two
plays being attributed to him.

But the reason is not really far to seek. He was not the
advocate of any party ; for though he was inclined towards
a war-like policy, and entertained a lively hatred of Sparta
and things Spartan, yet he was equally ready to point out
to Athens her mistakes and the inevitable consequences
of her follies. Such a man was not likely to please the
judges of his day, who almost inevitably must have been
influenced by party considerations ; and so others, who
abstained from politics altogether in their compositions,
or consistently supported one side, stepped in to carry
off the prize which " the great outsider," as Mahaffy so
aptly calls him, must often on his merits and in accordance
with the judgment of posterity have better deserved.
Nor, again, was Euripides, strictly speaking, a public man,
that is, in the sense of keeping himself before the people ;
doubtless he was well versed in all that went on around
him, as indeed is abundantly proved by his writings; but
he did not mix much with his fellows in the way, for
example, that his friend Socrates did ; his mind was more
purely speculative; the quiet of his study was therefore
more congenial to him than the noise of the market-place,
and the silent perusal of his books than the wordy warfare of
the law-courts.

In all the great social problems of the day he took a
deep interest, and passages abound in his plays proving

XX A SHORT MEMOIR OF EURIPIDES.

how thoroughly he had mastered some of them and how
far in advance of his age he had gone in his efforts to
arrive at the solution of others. The treatment of slaves,
the relations of women towards the other sex, the popular
theology, new discoveries in science, — these are only a
few of the questions which occupied his thoughts and
attracted his cosmopolitan sympathies.

Living, as he did, in the age of the Sophists, an age
of daring speculation and unboundt d scepticism, when old
beliefs were giving way to new theories, it is not strange
that Euripides was affected by the movement, and that
the influence of sophistic teaching is everywhere discernible
in his pages. In no writer of the period is the spirit of this
new learning more clearly mirrored ; never before were con-
ventional methods treated with i,uch scant respect ; and
this it is which roused the apprehensions of the more con-
servative Aristophanes, and threw him into such violent
opposition to this new-fangled poet — opposition, which,
after all, was doomed to fall powerless before overmaster-
ing genius.

A certain melancholy pervades all the poetry of Euri-
pides. Whether, as some say, he was naturally morose, or
whether his experiences soured his disposition, we have no
means of deciding now. The ceaseless rancour of male-
volent foes, the despair that at length drags down a man
who is persistently and purposely misunderstood, the fate
of his best friends, the sad contrast of the closing years of
the Peloponnesian War to its early promise, his own do-
mestic troubles — all these causes may well have succeeded
in insp'ring him with that gloomy view of life which is
reflected so deeply in his writings.

To enter into any examination of the exaggerated attacks
made on the poet by his detractors, ancient and modern,
would be too long a subject in so brief a memoir, even had
it not been already most ably treated by Professor Mahaffy

A SHORT MEMOIR OF EURIPIDES. xxi

in his little volume on "Euripides"; two remarks from
which I take the liberty of quoting. Speaking of the
atheism laid to Euripides' charge, he says :

"The only declared atheist in his extant plays is the
brutal and ignorant Cyclops, whose coarse and sensual
unbelief is surely intended for a keen satire on such vul-
garity in speculation."

In another passage, after discussing the rival views that
have prevailed about our poet, and the anomalies and con
tradictions of his character which make it so easy to blame,
so hard to understand his many-sidedness, he concludes :

" We must combine all these portraits with their con-r
tradictions to obtain an adequate idea of that infinitely
various, unequal, suggestive mind, which was at the same
time practically shrewd and mystically vague, clear in ex-
pression but doubtful in thought, morose in intercourse and
yet a profound lover of mankind, drawing ideal women and
yet perpetually sneering at the sex, doubting the gods and
yet reverencing their providence, above his age and yet not
above ir, stooping to the interests of the moment and yet
missing the reward of momentary fame, despairing of future
life and yet revolving problems which owe all their interest
to the very fact that they are perpetual."

Euripides is the last of the Greek tragedians properly
so called. " The sure sign of the general decline of an
art," says Macaulay, "is the frequent occurrence, not of
deformity, but of misplaced beauty." How hard this criti-
cism hits Euripides must be obvious to all who are familiar
with his choral odes. Many of the most beautiful of these
have no direct connection with the plot of the play in
which they occur; they might be introduced with equal
propriety elsewhere ; they are exquisite hymns, and,' as
such, often recommend a poor play ; but they are irrelevant
and out of place.

In spite, however, of all that was said and written against

xxil A SHORT MEMOIR OF EURIPIDES.

him, the great fact remains that he was by far the most
popular of all the tragedians. He appealed directly to
men's hearts ; as Aristotle said of him, he represented men
as they are, not as they ought to be ; and if he thereby lost
in dignity, he yet gained by being able to extend a wider
sympathy to the sufferings of his fellow-men. And this no
doubt will explain much that has been most bitterly blamed
in his method ; it is said that he vulgarized tragedy, bring-
ing it down to the level of melodrama with his excessive
love of pathos, his reliance on striking scenery and novel-
ties in music to create an effect, his rhetorical subtlety and
exaggerated patriotism ; but an unerring insight had taught
how he could best reach his audience, and this was enough
for him. The sentiment expressed by Terence many years
later might very well have issued from the lips of Euripides :
'• Homo sum ; humani nihil a me alienum puto."

RHESUS

DRAMATIS PERSONS.

CHORUS OF TROJAN SENTINELS.
HECTOR.

AENEAS.
DOLON.

A MESSENGER (a Shepherd).

RHESUS.

ODYSSEUS

DIOMEDES.

PARIS.

ATHENA.

THE MUSE.

THE CHARIOTEER OF RHESUS.

SCENE. — Before Hector's tent at the gates of Troy.

RHESUS.

CHO. To Hector's couch away, one of you wakeful squires
that tend the prince, to see if he have any fresh tidings from
the warriors who were set to guard the assembled host during
the fourth watch of the night. {Calls to HECTOR in the tent.}
Lift up thy head ! Prop thine arm beneath it ! Unseal
that louring eye from its repose ; thy lowly couch of scattered
leaves, O Hector, quit ! 'Tis time to hearken.

HEC. Who goes there? Is it a friend who calls? Who
art thou ? Thy watchword ? Speak ! Who in the dark
hours comes nigh my couch, must tell me who he is.

CHO. Sentinels we of the army.

HEC. Why this tumultuous haste ?

CHO. Be of good courage.

HEC. Is there some midnight ambuscade ?

CHO. Nay.

HEC. Then why dost thou desert thy post and rouse the
army, save thou have some tidings of the night ? Art not
aware how near the Argive host we take our night's repose
in all our harness clad ?

CHO. To arms ! O Hector, seek thine allies' sleeping
camp ! Bid them wield the spear ! Awake them ! To
thine own company despatch a friend. Saddle and bridle
the steeds. Who will to the son of Panthus ? who to
Europa's son, captain of the Lycian band ? Where are they
who should inspect the victims ? Where be the leaders of
the light-armed troops ? Ye Phrygian archers, string your
horn-tipped bows.

4 EURIPIDES. [L. 34-120

HEC. Now fear, now confidence thy tidings inspire;
nothing is plainly set forth. Can it be that thou art smitten
with wild affright by Pan, the son of Cronion, and leaving
thy watch therefore dost rouse the host ? What means thy
noisy summons? What tidings can I say thou bringest?
Thy words are many, but no plain statement hast thou made.

CHO. The long night through, O Hector, the Argive host
hath kindled fires, and bright with torches shines the anchored
fleet. To Agamemnon's tent the whole army moves
clamorously by night, eager for fresh orders maybe, for never
before have I seen such commotion among yon sea-faring
folk. Wherefore I was suspicious of what might happen and
came to tell thee, that thou mayest have no cause to blame
me hereafter.

HEC. In good season com'st thou, albeit thy tidings are
fraught with terror ; for those cowards are bent on giving
me the slip and stealing away from this land in their ships
by night ; their midnight signalling convinces me of this.
Ah ! Fortune, to rob me in my hour of triumph, a lion of
his prey, or ever this spear of mine with one fell swoop had
made an end for aye of yonder Argive host ! Yea, had not
the sun's bright lamp withheld his light, I had not stayed
my victor's spear, ere I had fired their ships and made my
way from tent to tent, drenching this hand in Achaean gore.
Right eager was I to make a night attack and take advantage
of the stroke of luck by heaven sent, but those wise seers of
mine, who have heaven's will so pat, persuaded me to wait
the dawn, and then leave not one Achaean in the land. But
those others await not the counsels of my soothsayers ;
darkness turns runaways to heroes. Needs must we now
without delay pass this word along the line " Arm, arm !
from slumber cease ! " for many a man of them, e'en as he
leaps aboard his ship, shall be smitten through the back and
sprinkle the ladders with blood, and others shall be fast
hound with cords and learn to till our Phrygian glebe.

RHESUS. 5

CHO. Thou hastest, Hector, before thou knowest clearly
what is happening ; for we do not know for certain whether
our foes are flying.

HEC. What reason else had the Argive host to kindle
fires?

CHO. I cannot say ; my soul doth much misgive me.

HEC. If this thou fearest, be sure there's nought thou
wouldst not fear.

CHO. Never aforetime did the enemy kindle such a blaze.

HEC. No, nor ever before did they suffer such shameful
defeat and rout.

CHO. This thou didst achieve ; look now to what remains
to do.

HEC. I have but one word to say, " Arm, arm against the
foe ! "

CHO. Lo ! where ^Eneas comes, in hot haste too, as though
he hath news to tell his friends.

JEN. Why, Hector, have the sentinels in terror made their
way through the host to thy couch to hold a midnight con-
clave and disturb the army ?

HEC. Case thee in thy coat of mail, ^Ene'as.

JEN. How now? are tidings come of some secret stratagem
set on foot during the night by the foe?

HEC. They are flying, these foes of ours, and going aboard
their ships.

JEN. What sure proof canst thou give of this ?

HEC. The livelong night they are kindling blazing torches;
methinks they will not wait for the morrow, but after lighting
brands upon their ships' decks will leave this land and fly to
their homes.

JEN. And thou, wherefore dost thou gird thee with thy
sword ?

HEC. With my spear will I stop them even as they fly and
leap aboard their ships, and my hand shall be heavy upon
them ; for shameful it were in us, aye, and cowardly as well

6 EURIPIDES. [L. 103-171

as shameful, when God gives them into our hands, to let
our foes escape without a blow after all the injuries they
have done us.

^)N. Would thou wert as sage as thou art bold ! But lo !
among mortals the same man is not dowered by nature with
universal knowledge ; each hath his special gift appointed
him, thine is arms, another's is sage counsel. Thou hearest
their torches are blazing, and art fired with the hope that the
Achseans are flying, and wouldst lead on our troops across
the trenches in the calm still night. Now after crossing the
deep yawning trench, supposing thou shouldst find the enemy
are not flying from the land, but are awaiting thy onset, be-
ware lest thou suffer defeat and so never reach this city again ;
for how wilt thou pass the palisades in a rout ? And how
shall thy charioteers cross the bridges without dashing the
axles of their cars to pieces ? And, if victorious, thou hast
next the son of Peleus to engage ; he will ne'er suffer thee to
cast the firebrand on the fleet, no, nor to harry the Achaeans
as thou dost fondly fancy. Nay, for yon man is fierce as fire,
a very tower of valiancy. Let us rather then leave our men
to sleep calmly under arms after the weariness of battle,
while we send, as I advise, whoe'er will volunteer, to spy
upon the enemy ; and if they really are preparing to fly,
let us arise and fall upon the Argive host, but if this signalling
is a trap to catch us, we shall discover from the spy the
enemy's designs and take our measures ; such is my advice,
O King.

CHO. It likes me well ; so change thy mind and adopt
this counsel. I love not hazardous commands in generals.
What better scheme could be than for a fleet spy to ap-
proach the ships and learn why our foes are lighting fires in
front of their naval station ?

HEC. Since this finds favour with you all, prevail. (To
^£NEAS.) Go thou and marshal our allies ; mayhap the host
hearing of our midnight council is disturbed. Mine shall it

RHESUS. 7

be to send one forth to spy upon the foe. And if I discover
any plot amongst them, thou shalt fully hear thereof, and at
the council-board shalt learn our will ; but in case they be
starting off in flight, with eager ear await the trumpet's call,
for then I will not stay, but will this very night engage
the Argive host there where their ships are hauled up.

JEN. Send out the spy forthwith ; there's safety in thy
counsels now. And thou shalt find me steadfast at thy
side, whene'er occasion call.

HEC. What Trojan now of all our company doth volun-
teer to go and spy the Argive fleet? Who will be that
patriot? Who saith 'I will?' Myself cannot at every
point serve my country and my friends in arms.

DOL. I for my country will gladly run this risk and go to
spy the Argive fleet, and when I have learnt fully all that
the Achaeans plot I will return. Hear the conditions on
which I undertake this toil.

HEC. True to his name in sooth, his country's friend is
Dolon. Thy father's house was famed of yore, but thou
hast made it doubly so.

DOL. So must I toil, but for my pains a meet reward
should I receive. For set a price on any deed, and then
and there it gives to it a double grace.

HEC. Yea, that is but fair; I cannot gainsay it. Name
any prize for thyself save the sway I bear.

DOL. I covet not thy toilsome sovereignty.

HEC. Well then, marry a daughter of Priam and become
my good brother.

DOL. Nay, I care not to wed amongst those beyond my
station.

HEC. There's gold, if this thou'lt claim as thy guerdon.

DOL. Gold have I in my home ; no sustenance
lack I.

HEC. What then is thy desire of all that Ilium stores
within her?

8 EURIPIDES, [L. 172-241

DOL. Promise me my gift when thou dost conquer the
Achaeans.

HEC. I will give it thee ; do thou ask anything except the
captains of the fleet.

DOL. Slay them ; I do not ask thee to keep thy hand off
Menelaus.

HEC. Is it the son of Oileus thou wouldst ask me for?

DOL. Ill hands to dig and delve are those mid luxury
nursed.

HEC. Whom then of the Achaeans wilt thou have alive to
hold to ransom ?

DOL. I told thee before, my house is stored with gold.

HEC. Why then, thou shalt come and with thine own
hands choose out some spoil.

DOL. Nail up the spoils for the gods on their temple-walls.

HEC. Prithee, what higher prize than these wilt ask me for?

DOL. Achilles' coursers. Needs must the prize be worth
the toil when one stakes one's life on Fortune's die.

HEC. Ah ! but thy wishes clash with mine anent those
steeds ; for of immortal stock, they and their sires before
them, are those horses that bear the son of Peleus on his
headlong course. Them did king Poseidon, ocean's god,
break and give to Peleus, so runs the legend — yet, for I did
urge thee on, I will not break my word ; to thee will I give
Achilles' team, to add a splendour to thy house.

DOL. I thank thee; in receiving them I avow I am taking
a fairer gift than any other Phrygian for my bravery. Yet
thee it needs not to be envious ; countless joys besides this
will glad thy heart in thy kingship o'er this land.

CHO. Great the enterprise, and great the boon thou
designest to receive. Happy, ay, happy wilt thou be, if
thou succeed ; fair the fame thy toil shall win. Yet to wed
with a prince's sister were a distinction high. On Heaven's
decrees let Justice keep her eye ! what man can give thou
hast, it seems, in full.

RHESUS. 9

DOL. Now will I set forth, and going within my house
will don such garb as suits, and then will hasten to the
Argive fleet.

CHO. Why, what dress in place of this wilt thou assume ?

DOL. Such as suits my task and furtive steps.

CHO. One should ever learn wisdom from the wise ; tell
me wherewith thou wilt drape thy body.

DOL. I will fasten a wolf-skin about my back, and o'er my
head put the brute's gaping jaws ; then fitting its fore-feet to
my hands and its hind-feet to my legs -I will go on all-fours
in imitation of its gait to puzzle the enemy when I approach
their trenches and barriers round the ships. But whenever
I come to a deserted spot, on two feet will I walk ; such is
the ruse I have decided on.

CHO. May Hermes, Maia's child, escort thee safely there
and back, prince of tricksters as he is ! Thou knowest what
thou hast to do ; good luck is all thou needest now.

DOL. I shall return in safety, and bring to thee the head
of Odysseus when I have slain him, or maybe the son of
Tydeus, and with this clear proof before thee thou shalt
avow that Dolon went unto the Argive fleet ; for, ere the
dawn appear, I will win back home with bloodstained hand.

[Exit DOLON.

CHO. O Apollo, blest godhead, lord of Thymbra and of
Delos, who hauntest thy fane in Lycia, come with all thy
archery, appear this night, and by thy guidance save our
friend now setting forth, and aid the Dardans' scheme,
almighty god whose hands in days of yore upreared Troy's
walls ! Good luck attend his mission to the ships ! may he
reach the host of Hellas and spy it out, then turn again and
reach the altars of his father's home in Ilium !

Grant him to mount the chariot drawn by Phthia's steedr,
when Hector, our master, hath sacked Achaea's camp, those
steeds that the sea-god gave to Peleus, son of ^Eacus ; for
he and he alone had heart enough for home and country to

10 EURIPIDES. [L. 242-317

go and spy the naval station ; his spirit I admire ; how few
stout hearts there be, when on the sea the sun-light dies and
the city labours in the surge ; Phrygia yet hath left a valiant
few, and bold hearts in the battle's press ; 'tis only Mysia's
sons who scorn us as allies.1

Which of the Achaeans will their four-footed murderous
foe slay in their beds, as he crosses the ground, feigning to
be a beast ? May he lay Menelaus low or slay Agamemnon
and bring his head to Helen's hands, causing her to lament
her evil kinsman, who hath come against my city, against
the land of Troy with his countless host of ships.

MES. (a Shepherd). Great king, ever in days to come be it
mine to bring my masters such news as I am bearing now
unto thine ears.

HEC. Full oft the rustic mind is afflicted with dulness ; so
thou, as like as not, art come to this ill-suited place to tell
thy master that his flocks are bearing well. Knowest thou
not my palace or my father's throne ? Thither thou shouldst
carry thy tale when thou hast prospered with thy flocks.

MES. Dull we herdsmen are; I do not gainsay thee. But
none the less I bring thee joyful news.

HEC. A truce to thy tale of how the sheep-fold fares ; I
have battles to fight and spears to wield.

MES. The very things of which I, too, came to tell thee ;
for a chieftain of a countless host is on his way to join thee
as thy friend and to champion this land.

HEC. His country ? and the home that he hath left ?

MES. His country, Thrace : men call his father Strymon.

HEC. Didst say that Rhesus was setting foot in Troy?

1 The words TTOTI Mv<r<3v are, as Nauck remarks, probably corrupt,
but of the numerous emendations proposed none seem satisfactory. It
is just possible that an old proverb is alluded to, branding a Mysian's
opinion as worthless —

" Si quis despicatui ducitur, Mysorum ultimus esse dicatur."
Cf. Cicero pro Flacco, ch. xxvii.

RHESUS. 1 1

MES. Thou hast it ; and savest me half my speech.

HEC. How is it that he comes to Ida's meadows, wander-
ing from the broad waggon track across the plain ?

MES. I cannot say for certain, though I might guess.
To make his entry by night is no idle scheme, when he
hears that the plains are packed with foemen's troops. But
he frightened us rustic hinds who dwell along the slopes of
Ida,1 the earliest settlement in the land, as he came by night
through yon wood where wild beasts couch. On surged the
tide of Thracian warriors with loud shouts ; whereat in wild
amaze we drove our flocks unto the heights, for fear that
some Argives were coming to plunder and harry thy steading,
till that we caught the sound of voices other than Greek
and ceased from our alarm. Then went I and questioned
in the Thracian tongue those who were reconnoitring the
road, who it was that lead them, and whose he avowed him
to be, that came to the city to help the sons of Priam. And
when I had heard all I wished to learn, I stood still awhile ;
and lo! I see Rhesus mounted like a god upon his Thracian
chariot. Of gold was the yoke that linked the necks of his
steeds whiter than the snow ; and on his shoulders flashed
his targe with figures welded in gold ; while a gorgon of
bronze like that which gleams from the aegis of the goddess
was bound upon the frontlet of his horses, ringing out its
note of fear with many a bell. The number of his host thou
couldst not reckon to a sum exact, for it was beyond one's
comprehension ; many a knight was there, and serried ranks
of targeteers, and archers not a few, with countless swarms
of light-armed troops, in Thracian garb arrayed, to bear them
company. Such the ally who comes to Troy's assistance ;
him the son of Peleus will ne'er escape or if he fly or meet
him spear to spear.

CHO. Whenso the gods stand by the burghers staunch

1 Cf. Homer, Iliad xx, 216, where he describes Mount Ida as in-
habited long before Ilium was built. (Musgrave.)

12 EURIPIDES. [L. 318-400

and true, the tide of fortune glides with easy flow to a
successful goal.

HEC. I shall find a host of friends now that fortune
smiles upon my warring and Zeus is on my side. But no
need have we of those who shared not our toils of erst, what
time the War-god, driving all before him, was rending the
sails of our ship of state with his tempestuous blast. Rhesus
hath shewn the friendship he then bore to Troy; for he
cometh to the feast, albeit he was not with the hunters when
they took the prey, nor joined his spear with theirs.

CHO. Thou art right to scorn and blame such friends ; yet
welcome those who fain would help the state.

HEC. Sufficient we who long have kept Ilium safe.

CHO. Art so sure thou hast already caught the foe ?

HEC. Quite sure I am ; to-morrow's light will make that
plain.

CHO. Beware of what may chance ; full oft doth fortune
veer.

HEC. I loathe the friend who brings his help too late.

MES. O prince, to turn away allies earns hatred. His
mere appearing would cause a panic amongst the foe.

CHO. Let him, at least, since he fs come, approach thy
genial board as guest, if not ally, for the gratitude of Priam's
sons is forfeit in his case.

HEC. Thou counsellest aright ; thou too dost take the
proper view. Let Rhesus in his gilded mail join the allies
of this land, thanks to the messenger's report.

\Exit the Messenger.

CHO. May Nemesis, daughter of Zeus, check the word
that may offend ; for lo ! I will utter all that my soul fain
would say. Thou art come, O son of the river god, art
come, thrice welcome in thy advent, to the halls of Phrygia ;
late in time thy Pierian mother and Strymon thy sire, that
stream with bridges fair, are sending thee to us, — Strymon
who begat thee his strong young son, that day his swirling

RHESUS. ij

waters found a refuge in the tuneful Muse's virgin bosom.
Thou art my Zeus, my god of light, as thou comest driving
thy dappled steeds. Now, O Phrygia, O my country, now
mayst thou by God's grace address thy saviour Zeus !
Shall old Troy once more at last spend the live-long day in
drinking toasts and singing love's praise, while the wildering
wine-cup sends a friendly challenge round, as o'er the sea
for Sparta bound, the sons of Atreus quit the Ilian strand ?
Ah ! best of friends, with thy strong arm and spear mayst
thou this service do me, then safe return. Come, appear,
brandish that shield of gold full in Achilles' face ; raise it
aslant along the chariot's branching rail, urging on thy
steeds the while, and shaking thy lance with double point.
For none after facing thee will ever join the dance on the
lawns of Argive Hera ; no, but he shall die by Thracians
?lain, and this land shall bear the burden of his corpse
and be glad.

Hail, all hail ! O mighty prince ! fair the scion thou hast
bred, O Thrace, a ruler in his every look. Mark his stalwart
frame cased in golden corslet ! Hark to the ringing bells
that peal so proudly from his targe-handle hung. A god, O
Troy, a god, a very Ares, a scion of Strymon's stream and of
the tuneful Muse, breathes courage into thee.

RHE. Brave son of sire as brave, Hector, prince of this
land, all hail ! After many a long day I greet thee. Right
glad am I of thy success, to see thee camped hard on the foe-
men's towers; I come to help thee raze their walls and fire
their fleet of ships.

HEC. Son of that tuneful mother, one of the Muses nine,
and of Thracian Strymon's stream, I ever love to speak
plain truth ; nature gave me not a double tongue. Long,
long ago shouldst thou have come and shared the labours of
this land nor suffered Troy for any help of thine to fall o'er-
thrown by hostile Argive spears. Thou canst not say 'twas
any want of invitation that kept thee from coming with thy

14 EURIPIDES. [L. 401-478

help to visit us. How oft came heralds and embassies from
Phrygia urgently requiring thine aid for our city? What
sumptuous presents did we not send to thee? But thou,
brother barbarian though thou wert, didst pledge away to
Hellenes us thy barbarian brethren, for all thehelpthougavest.
Yet 'twas I with this strong arm that raised thee from thy paltry
princedom to high lordship over Thrace, that day I fell upon the
Thracian chieftains face to face around Pangaeus in Paeonia's
land and broke their serried ranks, and gave their people up
to thee with the yoke upon their necks ; but thou hast
trampled on this great favour done thee, and comest
with laggard step to give thine aid when friends are in
distress. While they, whom no natural tie of kin constrains,
have long been here, and some are dead and in their graves
beneath the heaped-up cairn, — no mean proof of loyalty to
the city, and others in harness clad and mounted on their
cars, with steadfast soul endure the icy blast and parching
heat of the sun, not pledging one another, as thou art wont,
in long deep draughts on couches soft. This is the charge
I bring against thee and utter to thy face, that thou mayst
know how frank is Hector's tongue.

RHE. I too am such another as thyself ; straight to the
point I cut my way ; no shuffling nature mine. My heart
was wrung with sorer anguish than ever thine was at my
absence from this land ; I fumed and chafed, but Scythian
folk, whose borders march with mine, made war on me on
the very eve of my departure for Ilium ; already had I
reached the strand of the Euxine sea, there to transport my
Thracian army. Then did my spear pour out o'er Scythia's
soil great drops of bloody rain, and Thrace too shared in
the mingled slaughter. This then was what did chance to
keep me from coming to the land of Troy and joining
thy standard. But soon as I had conquered these and
taken their children as hostages and appointed the yearly
tribute they should pay my house, I crossed the firth, and lo !

RHESUS. 15

am here ; on foot I traversed all thy borders that remained
to pass, not as thou in thy jeers at those carousals of my
countrymen hintest, nor sleeping soft in gilded palaces, but
amid the frozen hurricanes that vex the Thracian main and
the Paeonian shores, learning as I lay awake what suffering
is, this soldier's cloak my only wrap. True my coming hath
tarried, but yet am I in time ; ten long years already hast
thou been at the fray, and naught accomplished yet ; day
in, day out, thou riskest all in this game of war with Argives.
While I will be content once to see the sun-god rise, and
sack yon towers and fall upon their anchored fleet and slay
the Achaeans ; and on the morrow home from Ilium will I
go, at one stroke ending all thy toil. Let none of you lay
hand to spear to lift it, for I, for all my late arrival, will with
my lance make utter havoc of those vaunting Achaeans.

CHO. Joy, joy ! sweet champion sent by Zeus ! Only may
Zeus, throned on high, keep jealousy, resistless foe, from
thee for thy presumptuous words ! Yon fleet of ships from
Argos sent, never brought, nor formerly nor now, among all
its warriors a braver than thee ; how I wonder will Achilles,
how will Aias stand the onset of thy spear ? Oh ! to live to
see that happy day, my prince, that thou mayest wreak
vengeance on them, gripping thy lance in thy death-
dealing hand !

RHE. Such exploits am I ready to achieve to atone for
my long absence ; (with due submission to Nemesis I say
this ;) then when we have cleared this city of its foes and
thou hast chosen out firstfruits for the gods, I fain would
march with thee against the Argives' country and coining
thither, lay Hellas waste with war, that they in turn may
know the taste of ill.

HEC. If thou couldst rid the city of this present curse and
restore it to its old security, sure I should feel deep gratitude
towards heaven. But as for sacking Argos and the pasture-
lands of Hellas, as thou sayest, 'tis no easy task.

16 EURIPIDES. [L. 479-548

RHE. Avow they not that hither came the choicest chiefs
of Hellas?

HEC. Aye, and I scorn them not j enough have I to do
in driving them away.

RHE. Well, if we slay these, our task is fully done.

HEC. Leave not the present need, nor look to distant
schemes.

RHE. Thou art, it seems, content to suffer tamely and
make no return.

HEC. I rule an empire wide enough, e'en though I here
abide. But on the left wing or the right or in the centre of
the allies thou mayst plant thy shield and marshal thy
troops.

RHE. Alone will I face the foe, Hector. But if thou art
ashamed, after all thy previous toil, to have no share in
firing their ships' prows, place me face to face at least
with Achilles and his host.

HEC. 'Gainst him thou canst not range thy eager
spear.

RHE. Why, 'twas surely said he sailed to Ilium.

HEC. He sailed and is come hither ; but he is wroth and
takes no part with the other chieftains in the fray.

RHE. Who next to him hath won a name in their host ?

HEC. Aias and the son of Tydeus are, I take it, no whit
his inferiors ; there is Odysseus too, a noisy knave to talk,
but bold enough withal, of all men he hath wrought
most outrage on this country. For he came by night to
Athena's shrine and stole her image and took it to the
Argive ships; next he made his way inside our battlements,
clad as a vagrant in a beggar's garb, and loudly did he curse
the Argives, sent as a spy to Ilium ; and then sneaked out
again, when he had slain the sentinels and warders at the
gate. He is ever to be found lurking in ambush about the
altar of Thymbrsean Apollo nigh the city. In him we have a
troublous pest to wrestle with.

RHESUS. 17

RHE. No brave man deigns to smite his foe in secret, but
to meet him face to face. If I can catch this knave alive,
who, as thou sayest, skulks in stealthy ambuscade and
plots his mischief, I will impale him at the outlet of the
gates and set him up for vultures of the air to make their
meal upon. This is the death he ought to die, pirate and
temple-robber that he is.

HEC. To your quarters now, for night draws on. For
thee I will myself point out a spot where thy host can watch
this night apart from our array. Our watchword is Phcebus,
if haply there be need thereof ; hear and mark it well and
tell it to the Thracian army. Ye must advance in front of
our ranks and keep a watchful guard, and so receive Dolon
who went to spy the ships, for he, if safe he is, is even now
approaching the camp of Troy.

CHO. Whose watch is it? who relieves me? night's
earlier stars are on the wane, and the seven Pleiads mount
the sky; athwart the firmament the eagle floats. Rouse
ye, why delay ? Up from your beds to the watch ! See ye
not the moon's pale beam ? Dawn is near, day is coming,
and lo ! a star that heralds it.

SEMICHO. Who was told off to the first watch ?

The son of Mygdon, whom men call Corcebus.

Who after him ?

The Paeonian contingent roused the Cilicians ;

And the Mysians us.

Is it not then high time we went and roused the Lycians
for the fifth watch, as the lot decided ?

CHO. Hark! hark! a sound; 'tis the nightingale,1 that
slew her child, singing where she sits upon her blood-stained

1 Aedon, daughter of Pandareus, bore but one son, Itylus, to her
husband Zethus ; envious of his brother Amphion's numerous family,
she resolved to slay his eldest son, but by mistake killed her own.
Whereupon she besought the gods to end her life, and they changed her
into a nightingale.

C

1 8 EURIPIDES. [L. 549-615

nest by Simois her piteous plaint, sweet singer of the
many trills ; already along Ida's slopes they are pasturing
the flocks, and o'er the night I catch the shrill pipe's note ;
sleep on my closing eyelids softly steals, the sweetest sleep
that comes at dawn to tired eyes.

SEMICHO. Why doth not our scout draw near, whom
Hector sent to spy the fleet ?

He is so long away, I have my fears.

Is it possible he hath plunged into a hidden ambush and
been slain ?

Soon must we know.

My counsel is we go and rouse the Lycians to the fifth
watch, as the lot ordained. [Exit Semichorus.

Enter DIOMEDES and ODYSSEUS cautiously with drawn
swords.

ODYS. Didst not hear, O Diomedes, the clash of arms ?
or is it an idle noise that rings in my ears?

Dio. Nay, 'tis the rattle of steel harness on the chariot-
rails ; me, too, did fear assail, till I perceived 'twas but the
clang of horses' chains.

ODYS. Beware thou stumble not upon the guard in the
darkness.

Dio. I will take good care how I advance even in this
gloom.

ODYS. If however thou shouldst rouse them, dost know
their watchword ?

Dio. Yea, 'tis " Phoebus ; " I heard Dolon use it.

ODYS. Ha ! the foe I see have left this bivouac.

Dio. Yet Dolon surely said that here was Hector's couch,
against whom this sword of mine is drawn.

ODYS. What can it mean? Is his company withdrawn
elsewhere ?

Dio. Perhaps to form some stratagem against us.

RHESUS. 19

ODYS. Like enough, for Hector now is grown quite bold
by reason of his victory.

Dio. What then are we to do, Odysseus ? we have not
found our man asleep ; our hopes are dashed.

ODYS. Let us to the fleet with what speed we may.
Some god, whiche'er it be that gives him his good luck, is
preserving him ; 'gainst fate we must not strive.

Dio. Well, we twain must go against ^neas or Paris, most
hateful of Phrygians, and with our swords cut off their heads.

ODYS. How, pray, in the darkness canst thou find them
amid a hostile army, and slay them without risk ?

Dio. Yet 'twere base to go unto the Argive ships if we
have worked the enemy no harm.

ODYS. What ! no harm ! Have we not slain Doion who
spied upon the anchored fleet, and have we not his spoils
safe here? Dost thou expect to sack the entire camp?
Be led by me, let us return ; and good luck go with us !

ATM. Whither away from the Trojan ranks, with sorrow
gnawing at your hearts, because fortune granteth not you
twain to slay Hector or Paris ? Have ye not heard that
Rhesus is come to succour Troy in no mean sort ? If he
survive this night until to-morrow's dawn, neither Achilles
nor Aias, stout spearman, can stay him from utterly de-
stroying the Argive fleet, razing its palisades and carrying
the onslaught of his lance far and wide within the gates ;
slay him, and all is thine ; let Hector's sleep alone, nor
hope to leave him a weltering trunk ; for he shall find death
at another hand.

ODYS. Queen Athena, 'tis the well-known accent of thy
voice I hear ; for thou art ever at my side to help me in
my toil. Tell us where the warrior lies asleep, in what part
of the barbarian army he is stationed.

ATH. Here lies he close at hand, not marshalled with the
other troops, but outside the ranks hath Hector given him
quarters, till night gives place to day. And nigh him are

20 EURIPIDES. [L. 616-683

tethered his white steeds to his Thracian chariot, easy to
see in the darkness; glossy white are they like to the
plumage of a river swan. Slay their master and bear them
off, a glorious prize to any home, for nowhere else in all the
world is such a splendid team to be found.

ODYS. Diomedes, either do thou slay the Thracian folk,
or leave that to me, while thy care must be the horses.

Dio. I will do the killing, and do thou look to the steeds.
For thou art well versed in clever tricks, and hast a ready
wit. And 'tis right to allot a man to the work he can best
perform.

ATH. Lo ! yonder I see Paris coming towards us ; he
hath heard maybe from the guard a rumour vague that foes
are near.

Dio. Are others with him or cometh he alone ?

ATH. Alone ; to Hector's couch he seems to wend his
way, to announce to him that spies are in the camp.

Dio. Ought not he to head the list of slain ?

ATH. Thou canst not o'erreach Destiny. And it is not
decreed that he should fall by thy hand ; but hasten on thy
mission of slaughter fore-ordained, while I feigning to be
Cypris, his ally, and to aid him in his efforts will answer
thy foe with cheating words. Thus much I have told you,
but the fated victim knoweth not, nor hath he heard one
word, for all he is so near.

PARIS. To thee I call, general and brother, Hector !
Sleep'st thou ? shouldst not thou awake ? Some foeman
draws anigh our host, or thieves maybe, or spies.

ATH. Courage ! lo ! Cypris watches o'er thee in gracious
mood. Thy warfare is my care, for I do not forget the
honour thou once didst me, and I thank thee for thy good
service. And now, when the host of Troy is triumphant, am
I come bringing to thee a powerful friend, the Thracian
child of the Muse, the heavenly songstress, whose father's
name is Strymon.

RHESUS. 21

PARIS. Ever unto this city and to me a kind friend art
thou, and I am sure that decision I then made conferred
upon this city the highest treasure life affords in thy person.
J heard a vague report, and so I came, for there prevailed
amongst the guard a rumour that Achaean spies are here.
One man, that saw them not, saith so, while another, that
saw them come, cannot describe them, and so I am on my
way to Hector's tent.

ATH. Fear naught ; all is quiet in the host, and Hec-
tor is gone to assign a sleeping-place to the Thracian
army.

PARIS. Thou dost persuade me, and I believe thy words,
and will go to guard my post, free of fear.

ATH. Go, for 'tis my pleasure ever to watch thy interests,
that so I may see my allies prosperous. Yea, and thou too
shalt recognize my zeal. [Exit PARIS.

(To ODYSSEUS and DIOMEDES.) O son of Laertes, 1 bid
you sheathe your whetted swords, ye warriors all too keen ;
for dead before you lies the Thracian chief, his steeds are
captured, but the foe have wind thereof, and are coming
forth against you ; fly with all speed to the ships' station.
Why delay to save your lives when the foemen's storm is
just bursting on you ?

CHO. On, on ! strike, strike, lay on, lay on ! deal death in
every blow !

SEMICHO. Who goes there ?

Look you, that man I mean. There are the thieves
who in the gloom disturbed this host. Hither, come
hither, every man of you ! I have them — I have clutched
them fast.

What is the watchword ? Whence cam'st thou ? Thy
country ?

ODYS. 'Tis not for thee to know.

SEMicHO.1 Speak, or thou diest as a vile traitor this day.

1 In the arrangement of this extremely difficult passage I have

22 EURIPIDES. [L. 684-741

Wilt not the watchword declare, ere my sword finds its
way to thy heart ?

ODYS. What ! hast thou slain Rhesus ?

SEMICHO. Nay, I am asking thee about him who came to
slay us.

ODYS. Be of good heart, approach.

SEMICHO. Strike every man of you, strike, strike home !

ODYS. Stay, every man of you !

SEMICHO. No, no, lay on !

ODYS. Ah ! slay not a friend.

SEMICHO. What is the watchword, then ?

ODYS. Phoebus.

SEMICHO. Right ! stay every man his spear !
Dost know whither those men are gone ?

ODYS. Somewhere here I caught a sight of them.

SEMICHO. Close on their track each man of you, or else
must we shout for aid.

ODYS. Nay, 'twere conduct strange to disturb our friends
with wild alarms by night.

[Exeunt ODYSSEUS and DIOMEDES.

CHO. Who was that man who slipped away ? Who was
he that will loudly boast his daring in escaping me ? How
shall I catch him now ? to whom liken him ? the man who
came by night with fearless step passing through our ranks and
the guard we set. Is he a Thessalian or a dweller in some
seacoast town of Locris, or hath he his home amid the
scattered islands of the main ? Who was he, and whence
came he? What is his fatherland? What god doth he
avow as lord of all the rest ?

SEMICHO. Whose work is this ? is it the deed of Odysseus ?

If one may conjecture from his former acts, of course
it is.

followed Paley. There are numerous other ways of assigning the lines,
but none of them seem to have greater claims to be correct on the
ground of probability.

RHESUS.

it think so really ? Why, of course.

He is a bold foe for us.

Who is ? whom art thou praising for valiancy ?

Odysseus.

Praise not the crafty weapons that a robber uses.

CHO. Once before he came into this city, with swim-
ming bleary eyes, in rags and tatters clad, his sword
hidden in his cloak. And like some vagrant menial he
slunk about begging his board, his hair all tousled and
matted with filth, and many a bitter curse he uttered
against the royal house of the Atreidae, as though forsooth
he were to those chiefs opposed. Would, oh ! would he
had perished, as was his due, or ever he set foot on Phrygia's
soil!

SEMICHO. Whether it were really Odysseus or not, I am
afeard.

Aye surely, for Hector will blame us sentinels.

What can he allege ?

He will suspect.

What have we done ? why art afeard ?

By us did pass —

Well, who ?

They who this night came to the Phrygian host.

CHA. O cruel stroke of fate. Woe, woe !

CHO. Hush ! be silent all ! Crouch low, for maybe there
cometh someone into the snare.

CHA. Oh, oh ! dire mishap to the Thracian allies.

CHO. Who is he that groans ?

CHA. Alack, alack ! woe is me and woe is thee, O king
of Thrace ! How curst the sight of Troy to thee ! how sad
the blow that closed thy life !

CHO. Who art thou ? an ally ? which ? night's gloom hath
dulled these eyes, I cannot clearly recognize thee.

CHA. Where can I find some Trojan chief? Where doth
Hector take his rest under arms ? Alack and well-a-day !

24 EURIPIDES.1 [L. 742-817

To which of the captains of the host am I to tell my tale ?
What sufferings ours ! What dark deeds someone hath
wrought on us and gone his way, when he had wound up a
clew of sorrow manifest to every Thracian !

CHO. From what I gather of this man's words, some
calamity, it seems, is befalling the Thracian host.

CHA. Lost is all our host, our prince is dead, slain by a
treacherous blow. Woe worth the hour ! woe worth the
day ! O the cruel anguish of this bloody wound that inly
racks my frame ! Would I were dead ! Was it to die this
inglorious death that Rhesus and I did come to Troy ?

CHO. This is plain language ; in no riddles he de-
clares the disaster; all too clearly he asserts our friends'
destruction.

CHA. A sorry deed it was, and more than that a deed
most foul ; yea, 'tis an evil doubly bad ; to die with glory, if
die one must, is bitterness enough I trow to him who dies ;
assuredly it is ; though to the living it add dignity and honour
for their house. But we, like fools, have died a death of
shame. No sooner had great Hector given us our quarters
and told us the watchword than we laid us down to sleep
upon the ground, o'ercome by weariness. No guard our army
set to watch by night. Our arms we set not in array, nor
were the whips hung ready on the horses' yokes, for our
prince was told that you were masters now, and had encamped
hard on their ships ; so carelessly we threw us down to sleep.
Now I with thoughtful mind awoke from my slumber, and
with ungrudging hand did measure out the horses' feed, ex-
pecting to harness them at dawn unto the fray ; when lo !
through the thick gloom two men I see roaming around our
army. But when I roused myself they fled away, and were
gone once more ; and I called out to them to keep away
from our army, for I thought they might be thieves from our
allies. No answer made they, so I too said no more, but
came back to my couch and slept again. And lo ! as

RHESUS. 25

I slept came a strange fancy o'er me : I saw, methought as
in a dream, those steeds that I had groomed and used to
drive, stationed at Rhesus' side, with wolves mounted on
their backs ; and these with their tails did lash the horses'
flanks and urge them on, while they did snort and breathe
fury from their nostrils, striving in terror to unseat their
riders. Up I sprang to defend the horses from the brutes,
for the horror of the night scared me. Then as I raised my
head I heard the groans of dying men, and a warm stream of
new-shed blood bespattered me where I lay close to my
murdered master as he gave up the ghost. To my feet I
start, but all unarmed ; and as I peer about and grope to find
my sword, a stalwart hand from somewhere nigh dealt me a
sword-thrust beneath the ribs. I know the sword that dealt
that blow from the deep gaping wound it gave me. Down
on my face I fell, while they fled clean away with steeds and
chariot. Alack, alack ! Tortured with pain, too weak to
stand, a piteous object I ! I know what happened, for I
saw it ; but how the victims met their death I cannot
say, nor whose the hand that smote them; but I can
well surmise we have our friends to thank for this mis-
chance.

* CHO. O charioteer of Thrace's hapless king, never sus-
pect that any but foes have had a hand in this. Lo ! Hector
himself is here, apprized of thy mischance; he sympa-
thizes as he should with thy hard fate.

HEC. Ye villains who have caused this mischief dire, how
came the foemen's spies without your knowledge, to your
shame, and spread destruction through the host, and you
drove them not away as they passed in or out ? Who but
you shall pay the penalty for this ? You, I say, were
stationed here to guard the host. But they are gone with-
out a wound, with many a scorf at Phrygian cowardice, and
at me their leader. Now mark ye this — by father Zeus I
swear — at least the scourge, if not the headsman's axe, awaits

26 EURIPIDES. [L. 818-891

such conduct ; else count Hector a thing of naught, a mere
coward.

CHO. Woe, woe is me ! A grievous, grievous woe came
on me, I can see, great lord of my city, in the hour that I
brought my news to thee that the Argive host was kindling
fires about the ships ; for by the springs of Simois I vow my
eye kept sleepless watch by night, nor did I slumber or
sleep. O be not angered with me, my lord ; I am guiltless
of all ; yet if hereafter thou find that I in word or deed have
done amiss, bury me alive beneath the earth; I ask no
mercy.

CHA. Why threaten these? Why try to undermine my
poor barbarian wit by crafty words, barbarian thou thyself?
Thou didst this deed ; nor they who have suffered all, nor we
by wounds disabled will believe it was any other. A long
and subtle speech thou'lt need to prove to me thou didst not
slay thy friends because thou didst covet the horses, and to
gain them didst murder thine own allies, after bidding them
come so straitly. They came, and they are dead. Why, Paris
found more decent means to shame the rights of hospitality
than thou, with thy slaughter of thy allies. Never tell me
some Argive came and slaughtered us. Who could have
passed the Trojan lines and come against us without detec-
tion ? Thou and thy Phrygian troops were camped in front
of us. Who was wounded, who was slain amongst thy friends,
when that foe thou speak'st of came? 'Twas we were
wounded, while some have met a sterner fate and said fare-
well to heaven's light. Briefly, then, no Achaean do I blame.
For what enemy could have come and found the lowly bed
of Rhesus in the dark, unless some deity were guiding the
murderers' steps ? They did not so much as know of his
arrival. No, 'tis thy plot this !

HEC. 'Tis many a long year now since I have had to
do with allies, aye, ever since Achaea's host settled in this
land, and never an ill word have I known them say of me j

RHESUS. 27

>ut with thee I am to make a beginning. Never may
such longing for horses seize me that I should slay my
friends ! This is the work of Odysseus. Who of all the
Argives but he would have devised or carried out such a
deed ? I fear him much ; and somewhat my mind misgives
me lest he have met and slain Dolon as well ; for 'tis long
since he set out, nor yet appears.

CHA. I know not this Odysseus of whom thou speakest.
JTwas no foe's hand that smote me.

HEC. Well, keep that opinion for thyself, if it please thee.

CHA. O land of my fathers, would I might die in thee !

HEC. Die ! No ! Enough are those already dead.

CHA. Where am I to turn, I ask thee, reft of my master
now?

HEC. My house shall shelter thee and cure thee of thy
hurt.

CHA. How shall murderers' hands care for me ?

HEC. This fellow will never have done repeating the
same story.

CHA. Curses on the doer of this deed ! On thee my
tongue doth fix no charge, as thou complainest; but Justice
is over all.

HEC. Ho ! take him hence ! Carry him to my palace and
tend him carefully, that he may have no fault to find. And
you must go to those upon the walls, to Priam and his aged
councillors, and tell them to give orders for the burial of the
dead at the place where folk turn from the road to rest

[Charioteer is carried off.

CHO. Why, with what intent doth fortune change and
bring Troy once again to mourning after her famous victory ?
See, see ! O look ! What goddess, O king, is hovering o'er
our heads, bearing in her hands as on a bier the warrior
slain but now ? I shudder at this sight of woe.

THE MUSE. Behold me, sons of Troy ! Lo ! I the Muse,
one of the sisters nine, that have honour among the wise,

28 EURIPIDES. [L. 892-964

am here, having seen the piteous death his foes have dealt
my darling son. Yet shall the crafty Odysseus, that slew
him, one day hereafter pay a fitting penalty. O my son, thy
mother's grief, I mourn for thee in self-taught strains of
woe ! What a journey thou didst make to Troy, a very path
of woe and sorrow ! starting, spite of all my warnings and
thy father's earnest prayers, in defiance of us. Woe is me
for thee, my dear, dear son ! Ah, woe ! my son, my son !

CHO. I, too, bewail and mourn thy son, as far as one can
who ha;h no common tie of kin. - •

THE MUSE. Curses on the son l of CEneus ! Curses on
Laertes' child ! who hath reft me of my fair son and made
me childless ! and on that woman, too, that left her home
in Hellas, and sailed hither with her Phrygian paramour,
bringing death to thee, my dearest son, 'neath Ilium's walls,
and stripping countless cities of their heroes brave. Deep,
deep the wounds, son2 of Philammon, hast thou inflicted on
my heart, in life, nor less in Hades' halls. Yea, for 'twas thy
pride, thy own undoing, and thy rivalry with us Muses that
made me mother of this poor son of mine. For as I crossed
the river's streams I came too nigh to Strymon's fruitful
couch, that day we Muses came unto the brow of Mount
Pangaeus with its soil of gold, with all our music furnished
forth for one great trial of minstrel skill with that clever
Thracian bard, and him we reft of sight, even Thamyris, the
man who oft reviled our craft. Anon, when I gave birth to
thee, because I felt shame of my sisters and my maiden
years, I sent thee to the swirling stream of thy sire, the
water-god ; and Strymon did not entrust thy nurture to
mortal hands, but to the fountain nymphs. There wert thou

1 Tydeus, father of Diomedes, was son of CEneus, king of Calydon.

2 Thamyris, the son of Philammon, challenged the Muses to a musi-
cal contest ; he was defeated and his eyes put out by them. One result
of the Muses' visit was the marriage of Strymon, the river-god, to one
of the Muses, followed by the birth of Rhesus.

RHESUS. 29

reared most fairly by the maiden nymphs, and didst rule
o'er Thrace, a leader amongst men, my child. So long as
thou didst range thy native land in quest of bloody deeds of
prowess I feared not for thy death, but I bade thee ne'er set
out for Troy-town, for well I knew thy doom ; but Hector's
messages and those countless embassies urged thee to go
and help thy friends. This was thy doing, Athena; thou
alone art to blame for his death (neither Odysseus nor the
son of Tydeus had aught to do with it) ; think not it hath
escaped mine eye. And yet we sister Muses do special
honour to thy city, thy land we chiefly haunt ; yea, and
Orpheus,1 own cousin of the dead whom thou hast slain, did
for thee unfold those dark mysteries with their torch proces-
sions. Musseus, too, thy holy citizen, of all men most
advanced in lore, him did Phoebus with us sisters train.
And here is my reward for this ; dead in my arms I hold my
child and mourn for him. Henceforth no other learned man
I'll bring to thee.

CHO. Vainly it seems the Thracian charioteer reviled us
with plotting this man's murder, Hector.

HEC. I knew it ; it needed no seer to say that he had
perished by the arts of Odysseus. Now I, when I saw the
Hellene host camped in my land, of course would not hesitate
to send heralds to my friends, bidding them come and help
my country ; and so I sent, and he as in duty bound came my
toils to share. It grieves me sorely to see him dead ; and
now am I ready to raise a tomb for him and burn at his
pyre great store of fine raiment; for he came as a friend and
in sorrow is he going hence.

THE MUSE. He shall not descend into earth's darksome
soil ; so earnest a prayer will I address to the bride of the
nether world, the daughter of the goddess Demeter, giver of

1 Orpheus was the son of CEager, king of Thrace, and the Muse
Calliope. The following reference is to the so-called Orphic mysteries,
in which the torch procession formed a conspicuous feature.

3O EURIPIDES.

increase, to release his soul, and debtor, as she is to me,
show that she honours the friends of Orpheus. Yet from
henceforth will he be to me as one dead that seeth not the
light ; for never again will he meet me or see his mother's
face, but will lurk hidden in a cavern of the land with veins
of silver, restored to life, no longer man but god, even as
the prophet of Bacchus l did dwell in a grotto 'neath Pan-
gaeus, a god whom his votaries honoured. Lightly now
shall I feel the grief of the sea-goddess, for her son2 too must
die. First then for thee we sisters must chaunt our dirge,
and then for Achilles when Thetis mourns some day. Him
shall not Pallas, thy slayer, save ; so true the shaft Loxias
keeps in his quiver for him. Ah me ! the sorrows that a
mother feels ! the troubles of mortals ! whoso fairly reckons
you up will live and die a childless man and will have no
children to bury.

CHO. His mother now must see to this her son's burial ;
but for thee, Hector, if thou wilt carry out any scheme, now
is the time, for day is dawning.

HEC. Go, bid our comrades arm at once ; yoke the
horses; torch in hand ye must await the blast of the Etrurian
trumpet ; for I hope with this day's mounting sun to pass
beyond their lines and walls and fire the ships of the
Achseans, restoring freedom's light once more to Troy.

CHO. Obedience to our prince ! let us array ourselves in
mail, and go forth and these orders tell to our allies, and
haply the god who is on our side will grant us victory.

1 The Thracian Lycurgus, a mythical king whose worship was united
in Thrace with that of Bacchus in the orgies amidst the hills.

2 i.e. Achilles, the son of Thetis, who is killed by an arrow of Paris
at the siege of Troy.

MEDEA.

DRAMATIS PERSONS.

NURSE OF MEDEA.

ATTENDANT ON HER CHILDREN.

MEDEA.

CHORUS OF CORINTHIAN WOMEN.

CREON.

JASON.

MESSENGER.

THE TWO SONS OF JASON AND MEDEA.

SCENE.— Before the Palace of Creon at Corinth.

MEDEA.

NURSE. Ah ! would to Heaven the good ship Argo ne'er
had sped its course to the Colchian land through the misty
blue Symplegades, nor ever in the glens of Pelion the pine
been felled to furnish with oars the chieftain's hands, who
went to fetch the golden fleece for Pelias ; for then would
my own mistress Medea never have sailed to the turrets of
lolcos, her soul with love for Jason smitten, nor would she
have beguiled the daughters of Pelias to slay their father
and come to live here in the land of Corinth with her hus-
band and children, where her exile found favour with the
citizens to whose land she had come, and in all things of her
own accord was she at one with Jason, the greatest safe-
guard this when wife and husband do agree ; but now their
love is all turned to hate, and tenderest ties are weak. For
Jason hath betrayed his own children and my mistress dear
for the love of a royal bride, for he hath wedded the daugh-
ter of Creon, lord of this land. While Medea his hapless
wife, thus scorned, appeals to the oaths he swore, recalls the
strong pledge his right hand gave, and bids heaven be wit-
ness what requital she is rinding from Jason. And here she
lies fasting, yielding her body to her grief, wasting away in
tears ever since she learnt that she was wronged by her
husband, never lifting her eye nor raising her face from off
the ground; and she lends as deaf an ear to her friend's
warning as if she were a rock or ocean billow, save when
she turns her snow-white neck aside and softly to herself
bemoans her father dear, her country and her home, which

D

34 EURIPIDES. [L. 32-93

she gave up to come hither with the man who now holds
her in dishonour. She, poor lady, hath by sad experience
learnt how good a thing it is never to quit one's native land.
And she hates her children now and feels no joy at seeing
them; I am afeard she may contrive some untoward scheme;
for her mood is dangerous nor will she brook her cruel
treatment ; full well I know her, and I much do dread that
she will plunge the keen sword through their heart, stealing
without a word into the chamber where their marriage couch
is spread, or else that she will slay the prince and bride-
groom too, and so find some calamity still more grievous
than the present ; for dreadful is her wrath ; verily the man
that doth incur her hate will have no easy task to raise o'er
her a song of triumph. Lo ! where her sons come hither
from their childish sports ; little they reck of their
mother's woes, for the soul of the young is no friend to
sorrow.

ATT. Why dost thou, so long my lady's own handmaid,
stand here at the gate alone, loudly lamenting to thyself the
piteous tale ? how comes it that Medea will have thee leave
her to herself?

NURSE. Old man, attendant on the sons of Jason, our
masters' fortunes when they go awry make good slaves
grieve and touch their hearts. Oh ! I have come to such
a pitch of grief that there stole a yearning wish upon me to
come forth hither and proclaim to heaven and earth my
mistress's hard fate.

ATT. What ! has not the poor lady ceased yet from her
lamentation ?

NURSE. Would I were as thou art ! the mischief is but
now beginning ; it has not reached its climax yet.

ATT. O foolish one, if I may call my mistress such a
name ; how little she recks of evils yet more recent !

NURSE. What mean'st, old man ? grudge not to tell
me.

MEDEA. 35

ATT. Tis naught ; I do repent me even of the words I
have spoken.

NURSE. Nay, by thy beard I conjure thee, hide it not
from thy fellow-slave ; I will be silent, if need be, on that
text.

ATT. I heard one say, pretending not to listen as I
approached the place where our greybeards sit playing
draughts l near Pirene's sacred spring, that Creon, the ruler
of this land, is bent on driving these children and their
mother from the boundaries of Corinth ; but I know not
whether the news is to be relied upon, and would fain it
were not.

NURSE. What ! will Jason brook such treatment of his
sons, even though he be at variance with their mother ?

ATT. Old ties give way to new ; he bears no longer any
love to this family.

NURSE. Undone, it seems, are we, if to old woes fresh
ones we add, ere we have drained the former to the dregs.

ATT. Hold thou thy peace, say not a word of this ; 'tis
no time for our mistress to learn hereof.

NURSE. O children, do ye hear how your father feels
towards you ? Perdition catch him, but no ! he is my
master still ; yet is he proved a very traitor to his. nearest
arid dearest.

ATT. And who 'mongst men is not? Art learning only
now, that every single man cares for himself more than for
his neighbour, some from honest motives, others for mere
gain's sake ? seeing that to indulge his passion their father
has ceased to love these children.

NURSE. Go, children, within the house ; all will be well.
Do thou keep them as far away as may be, and bring them
not near their mother in her evil hour. For ere this have
I seen her eyeing them savagely, as though she were minded

1 7r€<r<Tov£ literally the game itself ; here explained by the Scholiast
as the place where it was habitually played.

36 EURIPIDES. [L. 94-173

to do them some hurt, and well I know she will not cease
from her fury till she have pounced on some victim . At
least may she turn her hand against her foes, and n )t against
her friends,

MED. (within). Ah, me ! a wretched suffering woman
I ! O would that I could die !

NURSE. 'Tis as I said, my dear children ; wild fancies
stir your mother's heart, wild fury goads her on. Into the
house without delay, come not near her eye, approach her
not, beware her savage mood, the fell tempest of her reck-
less heart. In, in with what speed ye may. For 'tis plain
she will soon redouble her fury ; that cry is but the herald
of the gathering storm-cloud whose lightning soon will flash ;
what will her proud restless soul, in the anguish of despair, be
guilty of? {Exit Attendant with the children.

MED. (within). Ah, me ! the agony I have suffered, deep
enough to call for these laments ! Curse you and your
father too, ye children damned, sons of a doomed mother !
Ruin seize the whole family !

NURSE. Ah me ! ah me ! the pity of it ! Why, pray,
do thy children share their father's crime ? Why hatest thou
them ? Woe is you, poor children, how do I grieve for you
lest ye suffer some outrage ! Strange are the tempers of
princes, and maybe because they seldom have to obey, and
mostly lord it over others, change they their moods with
difficulty. 'Tis better then to have been trained to live on
equal terms. Be it mine to reach old age, not in proud
pomp, but in security ! Moderation wins the day first as a
better word for men to use, and likewise it is far the best
course for them to pursue; but greatness that doth o'erreach
itself, brings no blessing to mortal men ; but pays a penalty
of greater ruin whenever fortune is wroth with a family.

CHO. I heard the voice, uplifted loud, of our poor Col-
chian lady, nor yet is she quiet ; speak, aged dame, for as
I stood by the house with double gates I heard a voice of

MEDEA. 37

weeping from within, and I do grieve, lady, for the sorrows
of this house, for it hath won my love.

NURSE. 'Tis a house no more ; all that is passed away
long since ; a royal bride keeps Jason at her side, while our
mistress pines away in her bower, finding no comfort ior
her soul in aught her friends can say.

MED. (within). Oh, oh ! Would that Heaven's levin bolt
would cleave this head in twain ! What gain is life to me ?
Woe, woe is me ! O, to die and win release, quitting this
loathed existence !

CHO. Didst hear, O Zeus, thou earth, and thou, O light,
the piteous note of woe the hapless wife is uttering ? How
shall a yearning for that insatiate 1 resting-place ever hasten for
thee, poor reckless one, the end that death alone can bring?
Never pray for that. And if thy lord prefers a fresh love,
be not angered with him for that; Zeus will judge 'twixt thee
and him herein. Then mourn not for thy husband's loss
too much, nor waste thyself away.

MED. (within). Great Themis, and husband 2 of Themis,
behold what I am suffering now, though I did bind that
accursed one, my husband, by strong oaths to me ? O, to
see him and his bride some day brought to utter destruc-
tion, they and their house with them, for that they presume
to wrong me thus unprovoked. O my father, my country,
that I have left to my shame, after slaying my own brother.

NURSE. Do ye hear her words, how loudly she adjures
Themis, oft invoked, and Zeus, whom men regard as keeper
of their oaths ? On no mere trifle surely will our mistress
spend her rage.

CHO. Would that she would come forth for us to see, and

1 So MSS. dir\i)(rrov. Elmsley, whom many editors have followed,
proposed 'air\aTov= " terrible."

2 eat iroTvC "ApTtfti, corrupt and pointless. The reading here adopted
by the translator is Kal TTVOIQ, apn pf, suggested by Munro (Journal of
Philology, No. 22, p. 275)

38 EURIPIDES. [L. 174-251

listen to the words of counsel we might give, if haply she
might lay aside the fierce fury of her wrath, and her temper
stern. Never be my zeal at any rate denied my friends !
But go thou and bring her hither outside the house, and
tell her this our friendly thought ; haste thee ere she do
some mischief to those inside the house, for this sorrow of
hers is mounting high.

NURSE. This will I do ; but I have my doubts whether I
shall persuade my mistress ; still willingly will I undertake
this trouble for you ; albeit, she glares upon her servants
with the look of a lioness with cubs, whenso anyone draws
nigh to speak to her. Wert thou to call the men of old
time rude uncultured boors thou wouldst not err, seeing
that they devised their hymns for festive occasions, for
banquets, and to grace the board, a pleasure to catch the
ear, shed o'er our life, but no man hath found a way to allay
hated grief by music and the minstrel's varied strain, whence
arise slaughters and fell strokes of fate to o'erthrow the
homes of men. And yet this were surely a gain, to
heal men's wounds by music's spell, but why tune they
their idle song where rich banquets are spread ? for of
itself doth the rich banquet, set before them, afford to men
delight.

CHO. I heard a bitter cry of lamentation ! loudly, bitterly
she calls on the traitor of her marriage bed, her perfidious
spouse ; by grievous wrongs oppressed she invokes Themis,
bride of Zeus, witness of oaths, who brought her unto
Hellas, the land that fronts the strand of Asia, o'er the sea
by night through ocean's boundless gate.

MED. .From the house I have come forth, Corinthian
ladies, for fear lest you be blaming me ; l for well I know
that amongst men many by showing pride have gotten them

1 To extract any satisfactory meaning from this passage, as it stands
in our editions, seems an almost impossible task, to judge from the
attempts at present made. I have not ventured to alter Paley's text, or

MEDEA. 39

an ill name and a reputation for indifference, both those
who shun men's gaze and those who move amid the stranger
crowd, and likewise they who choose a quiet walk in life.
For there is no just discernment in the eyes of men, for
they, or ever they have surely learnt their neighbour's heart,
loathe him at first sight, though never wronged by him ; and
so a stranger most of all should adopt a city's views ; nor do
I commend that citizen, who, in the stubbornness of his
heart, from churlishness resents the city's will.

But on me hath fallen this unforeseen disaster, and sapped
my life ; ruined I am, and long to resign the boon of exis-
tence, kind friends, and die. For he who was all the world
to me, as well thou knowest, hath turned out the veriest
villain, my own husband. Of all things that have life and
sense we women are the most hapless creatures ; first must
we buy a husband at an exorbitant price, and o'er ourselves
a tyrant set which is an evil worse than the first ; and herein
lies the most important issue, whether our choice be good
or bad. For divorce is discreditable to women, nor can we
disown our lords. Next must the wife, coming as she does
to ways and customs new, since she hath not learnt the
lesson in her home, have a diviner's eye to see how best to
treat the partner of her life. If haply we perform these
tasks with thoroughness and tact, and the husband live with
us, without resenting the yoke, our life is a happy one ; if
not, 'twere best to die. But when a man is vexed with
what he finds indoors, he goeth forth and rids his soul of
its disgust, betaking him to some friend or comrade of like
age ; whilst we must needs regard his single self.

And yet they say we live secure at home, while they are
at the wars, with their sorry reasoning, for I would gladly
take my stand in battle array three times o'er, than once give

proposed interpretation, unsatisfactory as it seems to me. Verrall's
emendations, though bold in the extreme, do at least make the Greek
intelligible, and to his ingenious note I would refer the curious.

40 EURIPIDES. [L. 252-319

birth. But enough ! this language suits not thee as it does
me ; thou hast a city here, a father's house, some joy in life,
and friends to share thy thoughts, but I am destitute,
without a city, and therefore scorned by my husband, a
captive I from a foreign shore, with no mother, brother, or
kinsman in whom to find a new haven of refuge from this
calamity. Wherefore this one boon and only this I wish
to win from thee, — thy silence, if haply I can some way or
means devise to avenge me on my husband for this cruel
treatment, and on the man who gave to him his daughter,
and on her who is his wife. For though a woman be
timorous enough in all else, and as regards courage, a
coward at the mere sight of steel, yet in the moment she
finds her honour wronged, no heart is filled with deadlier
thoughts than hers.

CHO. This will I do ; for thou wilt be taking a just ven-
geance on thy husband, Medea. That thou shouldst mourn
thy lot surprises me not. But lo ! I see Creon, king of this
land coming hither, to announce some new resolve.

CRE. Hark thee, Medea, I bid thee take those sullen
looks and angry thoughts against thy husband forth from
this land in exile, and with thee take both thy children and
that without delay, for I am judge in this sentence, and I
will not return unto my house till I banish thee beyond the
borders of the land.

MED. Ah, me ! now is utter destruction come upon me,
unhappy that I am ! For my enemies are bearing down
on me full sail, nor have I any landing-place to come
at in my trouble. Yet for all my wretched plight I will
ask thee, Creon, wherefore dost thou drive me from the
land?

CRE. I fear thee, — no longer need I veil my dread 'neath
words, — lest thou devise against my child some cureless
ill. Many things contribute to this fear of mine ; thou art
a witch by nature, expert in countless sorceries, and thcu art

MEDEA. 41

chafing for the loss of thy husband's affection. I hear, too,
so they tell me, that thou dost threaten the father of the
bride, her husband, and herself with some mischief; where-
fore I will take precautions ere our troubles come. For 'tis
better for me to incur thy hatred now, lady, than to soften
my heart and bitterly repent it hereafter.

MED. Alas ! this is not now the first time, but oft before,
O Creon, hath my reputation injured me and caused sore
mischief. Wherefore whoso is wise in his generation ought
never to have his children taught to be too clever; for
besides the reputation they get for idleness, they purchase
bitter odium from the citizens. For if thou shouldst import
new learning amongst dullards, thou will be thought a use-
less trifler, void of knowledge ; while if thy fame in the city
o'ertops that of the pretenders to cunning knowledge,
thou wilt win their dislike. I too myself share in this ill-
luck. Some think me clever and hate me, [others say I am
too reserved, and some the very reverse] ; 1 others find me
hard to please and not so very clever after all. Be that as
it may, thou dost fear me lest I bring on thee something to
mar thy harmony. Fear me not, Creon, my position scarce
is such that I should seek to quarrel with princes. Why
should I, for how hast thou injured me ? Thou hast be-
trothed thy daughter where thy fancy prompted thee. No,
'tis my husband I hate, though I doubt not thou hast acted
wisely herein. And now I grudge not thy prosperity ;
betroth thy child, good luck to thee, but let me abide in
this land, for though I have been wronged I will be still and
yield to my superiors.

CRE. Thy words are soft to hear, but much I dread lest
thou art devising some mischief in thy heart, and less than
ever do I trust thee now ; for a cunning woman, and man
likewise, is easier to guard against when quick-tempered

1 This line is inclosed by most editors in brackets as an interpolation
from 808 below, where it is in place.

42 EURIPIDES. [L. 320-387

than when taciturn. Nay, begone at once ! speak me no
speeches, for this is decreed, nor hast thou any art whereby
thou shalt abide amongst us, since thou hatest me.

MED. O, say not so ! by thy knees and by thy daughter
newly-wed, I do implore !

CRE. Thou wastest words ; thou wilt never persuade me.

MED. What, wilt thou banish me, and to my prayers no
pity yield ?

CRE. I will, for I love not thee above my own family.

MED. O my country ! what fond memories I have of
thee in this hour !

CRE. Yea, for I myself love my city best of all things save
my children.

MED. Ah me ! ah me ! to mortal man how dread a
scourge is love !

CRE. That, I deem, is according to the turn our fortunes
take.

MED. O Zeus ! let not the author of these my troubles
escape thee.

CRE. Begone, thou silly woman, and free me from my toil.

MED. The toil is mine, no lack of it.

CRE. Soon wilt thou be thrust out forcibly by the hand
of servants.

MED. Not that, not that, I do entreat thee, Creon !

CRE. Thou wilt cause disturbance yet, it seems.

MED. I will begone ; I ask thee not this boon to grant.

CRE. Why then this violence? why dost thou not depart?

MED. Suffer me to abide this single day and devise some
plan for the manner of my exile, and means of living for
my children, since their father cares not to provide his
babes therewith. Then pity them ; thou too hast children
of thine own ; thou needs must have a kindly heart. For
my own lot I care naught, though I an exile am, but for
those babes I weep, that they should learn what sorrow
means.

MEDEA. 43

CRE. Mine is a nature anything but harsh; full oft by
showing pity have I suffered shipwreck; and now albeit
I clearly see my error, yet shalt thou gain this request,
lady ; but I do forewarn thee, if to-morrow's rising sun shall
find thee and thy children within the borders of this land,
thou diest ; my word is spoken and it will not lie. So now,
if abide thou must, stay this one day only, for in it thou
canst not do any of the fearful deeds I dread.

CHO. Ah ! poor lady, woe is thee ! Alas, for thy sorrows !
Whither wilt thou turn ? What protection, what home or
country to save thee from thy troubles wilt thou find ? O
Medea, in what a hopeless sea of misery heaven hath
plunged thee !

MED. On all sides sorrow pens me in. Who shall gainsay
this ? But all is not yet lost ! think not so. Still are there
troubles in store for the new bride, and for her bridegroom
no light toil. Dost think I would ever have fawned on
yonder man, unless to gain some end or form some scheme ?
Nay, I would not so much as have spoken to him or touched
him with my hand. But he has in folly so far stepped in
that, though he might have checked my plot by banishing
me from the land, he hath allowed me to abide this day, in
which I will lay low in death three of my enemies — a father
and his daughter and my husband too. Now, though I have
many ways to compass their death, I am not sure, friends,
which I am to try first. Shall I set fire to the bridal man-
sion, or plunge the whetted sword through their hearts, softly
stealing into the chamber where their couch is spread? One
thing stands in my way. If I am caught making my way
into the chamber, intent on my design, I shall be put to
death and cause my foes to mock. 'Twere best to take the
shortest way — the way we women are most skilled in — by
poison to destroy them. Well, well, suppose them dead ;
what city will receive me ? What friendly host will give me
a shelter in his land, a home secure, and save my soul alive?

44 EURIPIDES. [L. 388-481

None. So I will wait yet a little while in case some tower
of defence rise up for me ; then will I proceed to this bloody
deed in crafty silence ; but if some unexpected mischance
drive me forth, I will with mine own hand seize the sword,
e'en though I die for it, and slay them, and go forth on my
bold path of daring. By that dread queen whom I revere
before all others and have chosen to share my task, by
Hecate who dwells within my inmost chamber, not one of
them shall wound my heart and rue it not. Bitter and sad
will I make their marriage for them ; bitter shall be the
wooing of it, bitter my exile from the land. Up, then>
Medea, spare not the secrets of thy art in plotting and devis-
ing ; on to the danger. Now comes a struggle needing
courage. Dost see what thou art suffering ? Tis not for
thee to be a laughing-stock to the race of Sisyphus l by reason
of this wedding of Jason, sprung, as thou art, from a noble
sire, and of the Sun-god's race. Thou hast cunning ; and,
more than this, we women, though by nature little apt for
virtuous deeds, are most expert to fashion any mischief.

CHO. Back to their source the holy rivers turn their tide.
Order and the universe are being reversed. 'Tis men whose
counsels are treacherous, whose oath by heaven is no longer
sure. Rumour shall bring a change o'er my life, bringing it
into good repute. Honour's dawn is breaking for woman's
sex ; no more shall the foul tongue of slander fix upon us.
The songs of the poets of old shall cease to make our faith-
lessness their theme. Phoebus, lord of minstrelsy, hath not
implanted in our mind the gift of heavenly song, else had I
sung an answering strain to the race of males, for time's long
chapter affords many a theme on their sex as well as ours.
With mind distraught didst thou thy father's house desert on
thy voyage betwixt ocean's twin rocks, and on a foreign
strand thou dvvellest, thy bed left husbandless, poor lady and

"- - * Sisyphus was the founder of the royal house of Corinth.

MEDEA. 45

thou an exile from the land, dishonoured, persecuted. Gone
is the grace that oaths once had. Through all the breadth
of Hellas honour is found no more ; to heaven hath it sped
away. For thee no father's house is open, woe is thee !
to be a haven from the troublous storm, while o'er thy home
is set another queen, the bride that is preferred to thee.

JAS. It is not now I first remark, but oft ere this, how unruly
a pest is a harsh temper. For instance, thou, hadst thou but
patiently endured the will of thy superiors, mightest have re-
mained here in this land and house, but now for thy idle
words wilt thou be banished. Thy words are naught to me.
Cease not to call Jason basest of men ; but for those words
thou hast spoken against our rulers, count it all gain that
exile is thy only punishment. I ever tried to check the out-
bursts of the angry monarch, and would have had thee stay,
but thou wouldst not forego thy silly rage, always reviling
our rulers, and so thou wilt be banished. Yet even after all
this I weary not of my goodwill, but am come with thus
much forethought, lady, that thou mayst not be destitute nor
want for aught, when, with thy sons, thou art cast out. Many
an evil doth exile bring in its train with it ; for even though
thou hatest me, never will I harbour hard thoughts of thee.

MED. Thou craven villain (for that is the only name my
tongue can find for thee, a foul reproach on thy unmanli-
ness) ! comest thou to me, thou, most hated foe of gods, of
me, and of all mankind ? 'Tis no proof of courage or hardi-
hood to confront thy friends after injuring them, but that
worst of all human diseases — loss of shame. Yet hast thou
done well to come ; for I shall ease my soul by reviling
thee, and thou wilt be vexed at my recital. I will begin at
the very beginning. I saved thy life, as every Hellene knows
who sailed with thee aboard the good ship Argo, when thou
wert sent to tame and yoke fire-breathing bulls, and to sow
the deadly tilth. Yea, and I slew the dragon which guarded
the golden fleece, keeping sleepless watch o'er it with many

46 EURIPIDES. [L. 482-558

a wreathed coil, and I raised for thee a beacon of deliver
ance. Father and home of my free will I left and came
with thee to lolcos, 'neath Pelion's hills, for my love was
stronger than my prudence. Next I caused the death of
Pelias by a doom most grievous, even by his own children's
hand, beguiling them of all their fear. All this have I done
for thee, thou traitor ! and thou hast cast me over, taking
to thyself another wife, though children have been born to
us. Hadst thou been childless still, I could have pardoned
thy desire for this new union. Gone is now the trust I put
in oaths. I cannot even understand whether thou thinkest
that the gods of old no longer rule, or that fresh decrees are
now in vogue amongst mankind, for thy conscience must
tell thee thou hast not kept faith with me. Ah ! poor
right hand, which thou didst often grasp. These knees thou
didst embrace ! All in vain, I suffered a traitor to touch
me ! How short of my hopes I am fallen ! But come, I will
deal with thee as though thou wert my friend. Yet what
kindness can I expect from one so base as thee ? but yet I
will do it, for my questioning will show thee yet more base.
Whither can I turn me now? to my father's house, to my own
country, which I for thee deserted to come hither? to the hap-
less daughters of Pelias ? A glad welcome, I trow, would they
give me in their home, whose father's death I compassed ! My
case stands even thus : I am become the bitter foe to those of
mine own home, and those whom I need ne'er have wronged
I have made mine enemies to pleasure thee. Wherefore to
reward me for this thou hast made me doubly blest in the
eyes of many a wife in Hellas ; and in thee I own a peer-
less, trusty lord. O woe is me, if indeed I am to be cast
forth an exile from the land, without one friend ; one lone
woman with her babes forlorn ! Yea, a fine reproach to thee
in thy bridal hour, that thy children and the wife who saved
thy life are beggars and vagabonds ! O Zeus ! why hast
thou granted unto man clear signs to know the sham in

MEDEA. 47

gold, while on man's brow no brand is stamped whereby to
gauge the villain's heart ?

CHO. There is a something terrible and past all cure, when
quarrels arise 'twixt those who are near and dear.

JAS. Needs must I now, it seems, turn orator, and, like a
good helmsman on a ship with close-reefed sails, weather that
wearisome tongue of thine. Now, I believe, since thouwilt
exaggerate thy favours, that to Cypris alone of gods or men
I owe the safety of my voyage. Thou hast a subtle wit
enough ; yet were it a hateful thing for me to say that the
Love-god constrained thee by his resistless shaft to save my
life. However, I will not reckon this too nicely; 'twas
kindly done, however thou didst serve me. Yet for my
safety hast thou received more than ever thou gavest, as I
will show. First, thou dwellest in Hellas, instead of thy
barbarian land, and hast learnt what justice means and how
to live by law, not by the dictates of brute force; and all the
Hellenes recognize thy cleverness, and thou hast gained a
name; whereas, if thou hadst dwelt upon the confines of the
earth, no tongue had mentioned thee. Give me no gold
within my halls, nor skill to sing a fairer strain than ever
Orpheus sang, unless there\\ ith my fame be spread abroad !
So much I say to thee about my own toils, for 'twas thou
didst challenge me to this retort. As for the taunts thou
urgest against my marriage with the princess, I will prove to
thee, first, that I am prudent herein, next chastened in my love,
and last a powerful friend to thee and to thy sons ; only hold
thy peace. Since I have here withdrawn from lolcos with
many a hopeless trouble at my back, what happier device could
I, an exile, frame than marriage with the daughter of the
king ? 'Tis not because I loathe thee for my wife — the
thought that rankles in thy heart; 'tis not because I am
smitten with desire for a new bride, nor yet that I am eager
to vie with others in begetting many children, for those we
have are quite enough, and I do not complain. Nay, 'tis

48 EURIPIDES. [L. 559-626

that we — and this is most important — may dwell in comfort,
instead of suffering want (for well I know that every whilom
friend avoids the poor), and that I might rear my sons as
doth befit my house ; further, that I might be the father of
brothers for the children thou hast born, and raise these to
the same high rank, uniting the family in one, — to my
lasting bliss. Thou, indeed, hast no need of more children,
but me it profits to help my present family by that which is
to be. Have I miscarried here ? Not even thou wouldest
say so unless a rival's charms rankled in thy bosom. No,
but you women have such strange ideas, that you think all
is well so long as your married life runs smooth ; but if some
mischance occur to ruffle your love, all that was good and
lovely erst you reckon as your foes. Yea, men should have
begotten children from some other source, no female race
existing ; thus would no evil ever have fallen on mankind.

CHO. This speech, O Jason, hast thou with specious art
arranged ; but yet I think — albeit in saying so I betray in-
discretion— that thou hast sinned in casting over thy wife.

MED. No doubt I differ from the mass of men on many
points ; for, to my mind, whoso hath skill to fence with
words in an unjust cause, incurs the heaviest penalty ; for
such an one, confident that he can cast a decent veil of
words o'er his injustice, dares to practise it ; and yet he is
not so very clever after all. So do not thou put forth thy
specious pleas and clever words to me now, for one word of
mine will lay thee low. Hadst thou not had a villain's heart,
thou shouldst have gained my consent, then made this
match, instead of hiding it from those who loved thee.

JAS. Thou wouldest have lent me ready aid, no doubt, in
this proposal, if I had told thee of my marriage, seeing that
not even now canst thou restrain thy soul's hot fury.

MED. This was not what restrained thee ; but thine eye
was turned towards old age, and a foreign wife began to
appear discreditable to thee.

MEDEA. 49

JAS. Be well assured of this : 'twas not for the woman's
sake I wedded the king's daughter, my present wife ; but, as
I have already told thee, I wished to insure thy safety and
to be the father of royal sons bound by blood to my own chil-
dren— a bulwark to our house.

MED. May that prosperity, whose end is woe, ne'er be
mine, nor such wealth as would ever sting my heart !

JAS. Change that prayer as I will teach thee, and thou
wilt show more wisdom. Never let happiness appear in
sorrow's guise, nor, when thy fortune smiles, pretend she
frowns !

MED. Mock on ; thou hast a place of refuge ; I am alone,
an exile soon to be.

JAS. Thy own free choice was this ; blame no one else.

MED. What did I do ? Marry, then betray thee ?

JAS. Against the king thou didst invoke an impious curse.

MED. On thy house too maybe I bring the curse.

JAS. Know this, I will no further dispute this point with
thee. But, if thou wilt of my fortune somewhat take for the
children or thyself to help thy exile, say on ; for I am ready
to grant it with ungrudging hand, yea and to send tokens
to my friends elsewhere who shall treat thee well. If thou
refuse this offer, thou wilt do a foolish deed, but if thou
cease from anger the greater will be thy gain.

MED. I will have naught to do with friends of thine,
naught will I receive of thee, offer it not to me ; a villain's
gifts can bring no blessing.

JAS. At least I call the gods to witness, that I am ready
in all things to serve thee and thy children, but thou dost
scorn my favours and thrustest thy friends stubbornly away •
wherefore thy lot will be more bitter still.

MED. Away ! By love for thy young bride entrapped, too
long thou lingerest outside her chamber; go wed, for, if
God will, thou shalt have such a marriage as thou wouldst
fain refuse.

50 EURIPIDES. [L. 627—697

CHO. When in excess and past all limits Love doth come,
he brings not glory or repute to man ; but if the Cyprian
queen in moderate might approach, no goddess is so full of
charm as she. Never, O never, lady mine, discharge at me
from thy golden bow a shaft invincible, in passion's venom
dipped. On me may chastity, heaven's fairest gift, look l
with a favouring eye ; never may Cypris, goddess dread,
fasten on me a temper to dispute, or restless jealousy, smiting
my soul with mad desire for unlawful love, but may she
hallow peaceful married life and shrewdly decide whom each
of us shall wed. O my country, O my own dear home !
God grant I may never be an outcast from my city, leading
that cruel helpless life, whose every day is misery. Ere that
may I this life complete and yield to death, ay, death ; foi
there is no misery that doth surpass the loss of fatherland.
I have seen with mine eyes, nor from the lips of others have
I the lesson learnt; no city, not one friend doth pity thee in
this thine awful woe. May he perish and find no favour,
whoso hath not in him honour for his friends, freely un-
locking his heart to them. Never shall he be friend of mine.

&G. All hail, Medea I no man knoweth fairer prelude to
the greeting of friends than this.

MED. All hail to thee likewise, ^Egeus, son of wise Pan-
dion. Whence comest thou to this land ?

^Eo. From Phoebus' ancient oracle.

MED. What took thee on thy travels to the prophetic
centre of the earth ?

ALG. The wish to ask how I might raise up seed unto
myself.

MED. Pray tell me, hast thou till now dragged on a child-
less life?

ALG. I have no child owing to the visitation of some god.

MED. Hast thou a wife, or hast thou never known the
married state ?

1 Verrall proposes to read (myoi " protect," for MSS.

MEDEA. 51

. I have a wife joined to me in wedlock's bond.

MED. What said Phoebus to thee as to children ?

JEc. Words too subtle for man to comprehend.

MED. Surely I may learn the god's answer ?

&G. Most assuredly, for it is just thy subtle wit it needs.

MED. What said the god? speak, if I may hear it.

JE.G. He bade me "not loose the wineskin's pendent
neck." l

MED. Till when ? what must thou do first, what country
visit ?

JE.G. Till I to my native home return.

MED. What object hast thou in sailing to this land ?

JEo. O'er Trcezen's realm is Pittheus king.

MED. Pelops' son, a man devout they say.

JEG. To him I fain would impart the oracle of the
god.

MED. The man is shrewd and versed in such-like lore.

JEG. Aye, and to me the dearest of all my warrior friends.

MED. Good luck to thee ! success to all thy wishes !

^EG. But why that downcast eye, that wasted cheek ?

MED. O ^Egeus, my husband has proved a monster of
iniquity.

y£c. What meanest thou ? explain to me clearly the cause
of thy despondency.

MED. Jason is wronging me though I have given him no
cause.

&G. What hath he done ? tell me more clearly.

MED. He is taking another wife to succeed me as mistress
of his house.

JEG. Can he have brought himself to such a dastard deed?

MED. Be assured thereof; I, whom he loved of yore,
am in dishonour now.

J&G Hath he found a new love ? or does he loathe thy
bed?

1 't.e.y enjoined strict chastity.

52 EURIPIDES. [L. 698—751

MED. Much in love is he ! A traitor to his friend is he
become.

JEc. Enough ! if he is a villain as thou sayest.

MED. The alliance he is so much enamoured of is with
a princess.

JEo. Who gives his daughter to him ? go on, I pray.

MED. Creon, who is lord of this land of Corinth.

./£G. Lady, I can well pardon thy grief.

MED. I am undone, and more than that, am banished
from the land.

^Ec. By whom ? fresh woe this word of thine unfolds.

MED. Creon drives me forth in exile from Corinth.

JEG. Doth Jason allow it ? This too I blame him for.

MED. Not in words, but he will not stand out against it
O, I implore thee by this beard and by thy knees, in
suppliant posture, pity, O pity my sorrows ; do not see me
cast forth forlorn, but receive me in thy country, to a seat
within thy halls. So may thy wish by heaven's grace be
crowned with a full harvest of offspring, and may thy life
close in happiness ! Thou knowest not the rare good luck
thou findest here, for I will make thy childlessness to cease
and cause thee to beget fair issue ; so potent are the spells
I know.

ALc. Lady, on many grounds I am most fain to grant
thee this thy boon, first for the gods' sake, next for the
children whom thou dost promise I shall beget; for in
respect of this I am completely lost.1 'Tis thus with me ;
if e'er thou reach my land, I will attempt to champion thee
as I am bound to do. Only one warning I do give thee
first, lady ; I will not from this land bear thee away, yet if
of thyself thou reach my halls, there shalt thou bide in
safety and I will never yield thee up to any man. But from

1 The Schol. gives two interpretations of Qpovdog. (i) " I am ruined
as far as begetting children goes." (2) " I am entirely devoted to doing
so. " Neither is satisfactory owing to want of parallel passages.

, MEDEA. 53

this land escape without my aid, for I have no wish to incur
the blame of my allies as well.1

MED. It shall be even so ; but wouldst thou pledge thy
word to this, I should in all be well content with thee.

JEo. Surely thou dost trust me ? or is there aught that
troubles thee ?

MED. Thee I trust ; but Pelias' house and Creon are my
foes. Wherefore, if thou art bound by an oath, thou wilt not
give 2 me up to them when they come to drag me from the
land, but, having entered into a compact and sworn3 by
heaven as well, thou wilt become my friend and disregard
their overtures. Weak is any aid of mine, whilst they have
wealth and a princely house.

JEo. Lady, thy words show much foresight, so if this is
thy will, I do not refuse. For I shall feel secure and safe if
I have some pretext to offer to thy foes, and thy case too the
firmer stands. Now name thy gods.

MED. Swear by the plain of Earth, by Helios my father's
sire, and, in one comprehensive oath, by all the race of
gods.

JEo. What shall I swear to do, from what refrain? tell me
that.

MED. Swear that thou wilt never of thyself expel me from
thy land, nor, whilst life is thine, permit any other, one of
my foes maybe, to hale me thence if so he will.

1 i.e., as well as Jason.

2 To avoid the very doubtful form nf9dg = fi^9tltjg some read fiefoi' ai>.

3 Reading £vw/norog. Hermann changes rat into /i»). A simpler
change, supported by a Schol., and one MS., would be to read avwfioToc
— "whereas if thou only make a verbal compact, without oath, thou
mightest be persuaded," etc. The whole passage is, as it stands, pro-
bably corrupt ; numerous emendations have been proposed. If the
above emendation be adopted, it will be necessary to alter OVK av TriOoio
for which Munro proposed OKV&V 7r/0oto="and fearing their demands
of surrender thou mightest yield. " Wecklein, rax' av iriBoi at (adopted
by Nauck), is tempting.

54 EURIPIDES. [L. 752—831

JEc. By earth I swear, by the sun-god's holy beam and
by all the host of heaven that I will stand fast to the terms
I hear thee make.

MED. Tis enough. If thou shouldst break this oath,
what curse dost thou invoke upon thyself?

^Ec. Whate'er betides the impious.

MED. Go in peace ; all is well, and I with what speed I
may, will to thy city come, when I have wrought my purpose
and obtained my wish.

CHO. May Maia's princely son go with thee on thy way
to bring thee to thy home, and mayest thou attain that on
which thy soul is set so firmly, for to my mind thou seemest
a generous man, O ^Egeus.

MED. O Zeus, and Justice, child of Zeus, and sun-god's
light, now will I triumph o'er my foes, kind friends ; on
victory's road have I set forth ; good hope have I of
wreaking vengeance on those I hate. For where we were in
most distress this stranger hath appeared, to be a haven in
my counsels ; to him will we make fast the cables of our
ship when we come to the town and citadel of Pallas. But
now will I explain to thee my plans in full ; do not expect
to hear a pleasant tale. A servant of mine will I to Jason
send and crave an interview; then when he comes I will
address him with soft words, say, " this pi eases me," and, "that
is well," [even the marriage with the princess, which my
treacherous lord is celebrating, and add " it suits us both,
'twas well thought out "] ; l then will I entreat that here any
children may abide, not that I mean to leave them in a
hostile land for foes to flout, but that I may slay the king's
daughter by guile. For I will send them with gifts in their
hands, carrying them unto the bride to save them from
banishment, a robe of finest woof and a chaplet of gold.
And if these ornaments she take and put them on, miser-
ably shall she die, and likewise everyone who touches her ;
1 Person condemns these two lines.

MEDEA. 55

with such fell poisons will I smear my gifts. And here I
quit this theme; but I shudder at the deed I must do next;
for I will slay the children I have borne; there is none shall
take them from my toils; and when I have utterly con-
founded Jason's house I will leave the land, escaping
punishment for my dear children's murder, after my most
unholy deed. For I cannot endure the taunts of enemies,
kind friends ; enough ! what gain is life to me ? I have no
country, home, or refuge left. O, I did wrong, that hour I
left my father's home, persuaded by that Hellene's words,
who now shall pay the penalty, so help me God. Never
shall he see again alive the children I bore to him, nor from
his new bride shall he beget issue, for she must die a hideous
death, slain by my drugs. Let no one deem me a poor weak
woman who sits with folded hands, but of another mould,
dangerous to foes and well-disposed to friends; for they win
the fairest fame who live their life like me.

CHO. Since thou hast imparted this design to me, I bid
thee hold thy hand, both from a wish to serve thee and
because I would uphold the laws men make.

MED. It cannot but be so; thy words I pardon since thou
art not in the same sorry plight that I am.

CHO. O lady, wilt thou steel thyself to slay thy children
twain ?

MED. I will, for that will stab my husband to the heart.

CHO. It may, but thou wilt be the saddest wife alive.

MED. No matter ; wasted is every word that comes 'twixt
now and then. ( To the Nurse.) Ho ! thou, go call me
Jason hither, for thee I do employ on every mission of
trust. No word divulge of all my purpose, as thou art to
thy mistress loyal and likewise of my sex.

CHO. Sons of Erechtheus, heroes happy from of yore,
children of the blessed gods, fed on wisdom's glorious food
in a holy land ne'er pillaged by its foes, ye who move with
sprightly step through a climate ever bright and clear,

56 EURIPIDES. [L. 832—910

where, as legend tells, the Muses nine, Pieria's holy maids,
were brought to birth by Harmonia with the golden hair ;
and poets sing how Cypris drawing water from the streams of
fair-flowing Cephissus breathes x o'er the land a gentle breeze
of balmy winds, and ever as she crowns her tresses with a
garland of sweet rose-buds sends forth the Loves to sit by
wisdom's side, to take a part in every excellence. How
then shall the city of sacred streams, the land that welcomes
those it loves, receive thee, the murderess of thy children,
thee whose presence with others is a pollution ? Think on
the murder of thy children, consider the bloody deed thou
takest on thee. Nay, by thy knees we, one and all, implore
thee, slay not thy babes. Where 2 shall hand or heart find
hardihood enough in wreaking such a fearsome deed upon
thy sons ? How wilt thou look upon thy babes, and still
without a tear retain thy bloody purpose ? Thou canst not,
when they fall at thy feet for mercy, steel thy heart and dip
in their blood thy hand.

JAS. I am come at thy bidding, for e'en though thy hate
for me is bitter thou shalt not fail in this small boon, but I
will hear what new request thou hast to make of me, lady.

MED. Jason, I crave thy pardon for the words I spoke,
and well thou mayest brook my burst of passion, for ere
now we twain have shared much love. For I have reasoned
with my soul and railed upon me thus, " Ah 1 poor heart !
why am I thus distraught, why so angered 'gainst all good
advice, why have I come to hate the rulers of the land, my
husband too, who does the best for me he can, in wedding
with a princess and rearing for my children noble brothers ?

1 Reading x^PaS with Reiske. The passage is corrupt, and possibly-
some word is lost.

2 Of the numerous emendations of this corrupt passage, Nauck's
r«cvov for riicvoi^ is the simplest, if it goes far enough. Verrall suggests
that a word has fallen out after the second ?; and conjectures

This is not less satisfactory than most of the emendations,

MEDEA. 57

Shall I not cease to fret ? What possesses me, when heaven
its best doth offer? Have I not my children to consider?
do I forget that we are fugitives, in need of friends?" When
I had thought all this I saw how foolish I had been, how
senselessly enraged. So now I do commend thee and think
thee most wise in forming this connexion for us ; but I was
mad, I who should have shared in these designs, helped on
thy plans, and lent my aid to bring about the match, only
too pleased to wait upon thy bride. But what we are, we
are, we women, evil I will not say ; wherefore thou shouldst
not sink to our sorry level nor with our weapons meet our
childishness.

I yield and do confess that I was wrong then, but now
have I come to a better mind. Come hither, my children,
come, leave the house, step forth, and with me greet and
bid farewell to your father, be reconciled from all past
bitterness unto your friends, as now your mother is * for we
have made a truce and anger is no more.

Enter the Children.

Take his right hand ; ah me ! my sad fate ! when I reflect,
as now, upon the hidden future. O my children, since
there awaits you even thus a long, long life, stretch forth the
hand to take a fond farewell. Ah me ! how new l to tears am
I, how full of fear ! For now that I have at last released
me from my quarrel with your father, I let the tear-drops
stream adown my tender cheek.

CHO. From my eyes too bursts forth the copious tear ;
O, may no greater ill than the present e'er befall !

JAS. Lady, I praise this conduct, not that I blame what
is past ; for it is but natural to the female sex to vent their
spleen against a husband when he trafficks in other marriages

g. The Schol. explains this word as " ready to shed tears,"
but aprt, as Mr. Evelyn Abbott points out, can scarcely bear such a
meaning. (Cf., in Heberden's edition of the Medea, his note.)

58 EURIPIDES. [L. 911—978

besides his own.1 But thy heart is changed to wiser schemes
and thou art determined on the better course, late though
it be ; this is acting like a woman of sober sense. And for
you, my sons, hath your father provided with all good heed
a sure refuge, by God's grace; for ye, I trow, shall with
your brothers share hereafter the foremost rank in this
Corinthian realm. Only grow up, for all the rest your sire
and whoso of the gods is kind to us is bringing to pass.
May I see you reach man's full estate, high o'er the heads
of those I hate ! But thou, lady, why with fresh tears dost
thou thine eyelids wet, turning away thy wan cheek, with no
welcome for these my happy tidings ?

MED. Tis naught ; upon these children my thoughts were
turned.

JAS. Then take heart ; for I will see that it is well with
them.

MED. I will do so ; nor will I doubt thy word; woman is
a weak creature, ever given to tears.

JAS. Why prithee, unhappy one, dost moan o'er these
children ?

MED. I gave them birth ; and when thou didst pray long
life for them, pity entered into my soul to think that these
things must be. But the reason of thy coming hither to
speak with me is partly told, the rest will I now mention.
Since it is the pleasure of the rulers of the land to banish
me, and well I know 'twere best for me to stand not in the
way of thee or of the rulers by dwelling here, enemy as I
am thought unto their house, forth from this land in exile am
I going, but these children, — that they may know thy
fostering hand, beg Creon to remit their banishment

JAS. I doubt whether I can persuade him, yet must I
attempt it.

1 t'.f., dXXoiovg. This word is not elsewhere used in tragedy, and has
therefore been suspected. Heimsoethius conjectures
g, Dindorf Supaoiv,

MEDEA. 59

MED. At least do thou bid thy wife ask her sire this boon,
to remit the exile of the children from this land.

JAS. Yea, that will I ; and her methinks I shall persuade,
since she is a woman like the rest.

MED. I too will aid thee in this task, for by the children's
hand I will send to her gifts that far surpass in beauty, I
well know, aught that now is seen 'mongst men, a robe of
finest tissue and a chaplet of chased gold. But one of my
attendants must haste and bring the ornaments hither.
Happy shall she be not once alone but ten thousandfold,
for in thee she wins the noblest soul to share her love, and
gets these gifts as well which on a day my father's sire, the
Sun-god, bestowed on his descendants. My children, take
in your hands these wedding gifts, and bear them as an
offering to the royal maid, the happy bride ; for verily the
gifts she shall receive are not to be scorned.

JAS. But why so rashly rob thyself of these gifts ? Dost
think a royal palace wants for robes or gold ? Keep them,
nor give them to another. For well I know that if my lady
hold me in esteem, she will set my price above all wealth.

MED. Say not so; 'tis said that gifts tempt even gods; and
o'er men's minds gold holds more potent sway than count-
less words. Fortune smiles upon thy bride, and heaven
now doth swell her triumph ; youth is hers and princely
power ; yet to save my children from exile I would barter
life, not dross alone. Children, when ye are come to the
rich palace, pray your father's new bride, my mistress, with
suppliant voice to save you from exile, offering her these
ornaments the while ; for it is most needful that she receive
the gifts in her own hand. Now go and linger not ; may ye
succeed and to your mother bring back the gfed tidings she
fain would hear !

CHO. Gone, gone is every hope I had that the children
yet might live; forth to their doom they now proceed. The
hapless bride will take, ay, take the golden crown that is to

60 EURIPIDES. [L. 979—1055

be her ruin ; with her own hand will she lift and place upon
her golden locks the garniture of death. Its grace and
sheen divine will tempt her to put on the robe and crown of
gold, and in that act will she deck herself to be a bride
amid the dead. Such is the snare whereinto she will fall,
such is the deadly doom that waits the hapless maid, nor
shall she from the curse escape. And thou, poor wretch,
who to thy sorrow art wedding a king's daughter, little
thinkest of the doom thou art bringing on thy children's life,
or of the cruel death that waits thy bride.

Woe is thee ! how art thou fallen from thy high estate !

Next do I bewail thy sorrows, O mother hapless in thy
children, thou who wilt slay thy babes because thou hast a
rival, the babes thy husband hath deserted impiously to join
him to another bride.

ATT. Thy children, lady, are from exile freed, and gladly
did the royal bride accept thy gifts in her own hands, and
so thy children made their peace with her.

MED. Ah !

ATT. Why art so disquieted in thy prosperous hour?
Why turnest thou thy cheek away, and hast no welcome for
my glad news ?

MED. Ah me !

ATT. These groans but ill accord with the news I bring.

MED. Ah me ! once more I say.

ATT. Have I unwittingly announced some evil tidings?
Have I erred in thinking my news was good ?

MED. Thy news is as it is ; I blame thee not.

ATT. Then why this downcast eye, these floods of tears ?

MED. Old friend, needs must I weep ; for the gods and
I with fell intent devised these schemes.

ATT. Be of good cheer j thou too of a surety shalt by thy
sons yet be brought home again.

MED. Ere that shall I bring others to their home, ah !
woe is me !

MEDEA. 6 1

ATT. Thou art not the only mother from thy children
reft. Bear patiently thy troubles as a mortal must.

MED. I will obey; go thou within the house and make
the day's provision for the children. O my babes, my
babes, ye have still a city and a home, where far from me
and my sad lot you will live your lives, reft of your mother
for ever ; while I must to another land in banishment, or
ever I have had my joy of you, or lived to see you happy,
or ever I have graced your marriage couch, your bride, your
bridal bower, or lifted high the wedding torch. Ah me ! a
victim of my own self-will. So it was all in vain I reared
you, O my sons ; in vain did suffer, racked with anguish,
enduring the cruel pangs of childbirth. 'Fore Heaven I once
had hope, poor me ! high hope of ye that you would nurse
me in my age and deck my corpse with loving hands, a
boon we mortals covet; but now is my sweet fancy dead and
gone; for I must lose you both and in bitterness and sorrow
drag through life. And ye shall never with fond eyes see
your mother more, for o'er your life there comes a change.
Ah me ! ah me ! why do ye look at me so, my children ?
why smile that last sweet smile? Ah me! what am I to do?
My heart gives way when I behold my children's laughing
eyes. O, I cannot ; farewell to all my former schemes ; I
will take the children from the land, the babes I bore.
Why should I wound their sire by wounding them, and
get me a twofold measure of sorrow ? No, no, I will not do
it. Farewell my scheming ! And yet what am I coming
to ? Can I consent to let those foes of mine escape from
punishment, and incur their mockery? I must face this
deed. Out upon my craven heart ! to think that I should
even have let the soft l words escape my soul. Into the
house, children ! and whoso feels he must not be present at
my sacrifice, must see to it himself; I will not spoil my

1 Reading trpotoQai for which Badham proposes irpoaioQai. " indulge
my mind in gentle thoughts."

62 EURIPIDES. [L. 1056 — 1136

handiwork. Ah ! ah ! do not, my heart, O do not do this
deed ! Let the children go, unhappy one, spare the babes !
For if they live, they will cheer thee in our exile there.1
Nay, by the fiends of hell's abyss, never, never will I hand
my children over to their foes to mock and flout. Die they
must in any case, and since 'tis so, why I, the mother who
bore them, will give the fatal blow. In any case their doom
is fixed and there is no escape. Already the crown is on
her head, the robe is round her, and she is dying, the royal
bride ; that do I know full well. But now since I have a
piteous path to tread, and yet more piteous still the path I
send my children on, fain would I say farewell to them. O
my babes, my babes, let your mother kiss your hands. Ah !
hands I love so well, O lips most dear to me! O noble form
and features of my children, I wish ye joy, but in that other
land, for here your father robs you of your home. O the
sweet embrace, the soft young cheek, the fragrant breath !
my children ! Go, leave me ; I cannot bear to longer look
upon ye ; my sorrow wins the day. At last I understand
the awful deed I am to do ; but passion, that cause of direst
woes to mortal man, hath triumphed o'er my sober thoughts.
CHO. Oft ere now have I pursued subtler themes and
have faced graver issues than woman's sex should seek to
probe ; but then e'en we aspire to culture, which dwells with
us to teach us wisdom ; I say not all ; for small is the class
amongst women — (one maybe shalt thou find 'mid many) —
that is not incapable of culture. And amongst mortals I do
assert that they who are wholly without experience and have
never had children far surpass in happiness those who are
parents. The childless, because they have never proved
whether children grow up to be a blessing or curse to men
are removed from all share in many troubles ; whilst those
who have a sweet race of children growing up in their
houses do wear away, as I perceive, their whole life through ;
1 At Athens.

MEDEA. 63

first with the thought how they may train them up in virtue,
next how they shall leave their sons the means to live ; and
after all this 'tis far from clear whether on good or bad
children they bestow their toil. But one last crowning woe
for every mortal man I now will name ; suppose that they
have found sufficient means to live, and seen their children
grow to man's estate and walk in virtue's path, still if fortune
so befall,1 comes Death and bears the children's bodies off
to Hades. Can it be any profit to the gods to heap^ upon
us mortal men beside our other woes this further grief for
children lost, a grief surpassing all ?

MED. Kind friends, long have I waited expectantly to
know how things would at the palace chance. And lo ! I
see one of Jason's servants coming hither, whose hurried
gasps for breath proclaim him the bearer of some fresh
tidings.

MES. Fly, fly, Medea ! who hast wrought an awful deed,
transgressing every law ; nor leave behind or sea-borne bark
or car that scours the plain.

MED. Why, what hath chanced that calls for such a
flight of mine ?

MES. The princess is dead, a moment gone, and Creon
too, her sire, slain by those drugs of thine.

MED. Tidings most fair are thine ! Henceforth shalt
thou be ranked amongst my friends and benefactors.

MES. Ha ! What ? Art sane ? Art not distraught,
kdy, who nearest with joy the outrage to our royal house
done, and art not at the horrid tale afraid ?

MED. Somewhat have I, too, to say in answer to thy
words. Be not so hasty, friend, but tell the manner of
their death, for thou wouldst give me double joy, if so they
perished miserably.

MES. When the children twain whom thou didst bear

1 Reading <vofiaei (Aid. et Schol.). The MSS. vary between Kvprjaa^
ecu, <T£t.

64 EURIPIDES. [L. 1137—1207

came with their father and entered the palace of the bride,
right glad were we thralls who had shared thy griefs, for
instantly from ear to ear a rumour spread that thou and thy
lord had made up your former quarrel. One kissed thy
children's hands, another their golden hair, while I for very
joy went with them in person to the women's chambers.
Our mistress, whom now we do revere in thy room, cast a
longing glance at Jason, ere she saw thy children twain ;
but then she veiled her eyes and turned her blanching
cheek away, disgusted at their coming ; but thy husband
tried to check his young bride's angry humour with these
words : " O, be not angered 'gainst thy friends ; cease from
wrath and turn once more thy face this way, counting as
friends whomso thy husband counts, and accept these gifts,
and for my sake crave thy sire to remit these children's
exile." Soon as she saw the ornaments, no longer she held
out, but yielded to her lord in all ; and ere the father and
his sons were far from the palace gone, she took the
broidered robe and put it on, and set the golden crown
about her tresses, arranging her hair at her bright mirror,
with many a happy smile at her breathless counterfeit.
Then rising from her seat she passed across the chamber,
tripping lightly on her fair white foot, exulting in the gift,
with many a glance at her uplifted ankle.1 When lo ! a scene
of awful horror did ensue. In a moment she turned pale,
reeled backwards, trembling in every limb, and sinks upon
a seat scarce soon enough to save herself from falling to
the ground. An aged dame, one of her company, thinking
belike it was a fit from Pan 2 or some god sent, raised a cry
of prayer, till from her mouth she saw the foam-flakes issue,
her eyeballs rolling in their sockets, and all the blood her

1 rsvovr' eg opQbv <m>7rov/*Ej>i7, ( I ) she stretches out her foot to see how
the robe falls over it (Paley), (2) she stands on tiptoe and looks back
to see how the dress hangs behind = erecto pede (Pflugk).

2 Any sudden seizure was ascribed to Pan's agency.

MEDEA. 65

face desert ; then did she raise a loud scream far different
from her former cry. Forthwith one handmaid rushed to
her father's house, another to her new bridegroom to tell
his bride's sad fate, and the whole house echoed with their
running to and fro. By this time would a quick walker
have made the turn in a course of six plethra1 and reached
the goal, when she with one awful shriek awoke, poor
sufferer, from her speechless trance and oped her closed
eyes, for against her a twofold anguish was warring. The
chaplet of gold about her head was sending forth a won-
drous stream of ravening flame, while the fine raiment, thy
children's gift, was preying on the hapless maiden's fair
white flesh; and she starts from her seat in a blaze and
seeks to fly, shaking her hair and head this way and that,
to cast the crown therefrom ; but the gold held firm to its
fastenings, and the flame, as she shook her locks, blazed
forth the more with double fury. Then to the earth she
sinks, by the cruel blow o'ercome, past all recognition now
save to a father's eye ; for her eyes had lost their tranquil
gaze, her face no more its natural look preserved, and from
the crown of her head blood and fire in mingled stream ran
down ; and from her bones the flesh kept peeling off
beneath the gnawing of those secret drugs, e'en as when
the pine-tree weeps its tears of pitch, a fearsome sight to see.
And all were afraid to touch the corpse, for we were warned
by what had chanced. Anon came her hapless father unto
the house, all unwitting of her doom, and stumbles o'er the
dead, and loud he cried, and folding his arms about her
kissed her, with words like these the while, " O my poor,

1 The reading is doubtful, still more the meaning. The conjecture
ovtXPwv is adopted here, with Musgrave's av i'jTTTtro for avOfjirrtro.
(irf\9ut> KW\OV 'eicTrXiOpov Spopov. This would mean, her swoon lasted
as long as a man would take to go and return the distance of six plethra.
The KU>\OV then must be the ' limb, lap ' of the course up to the turning
p:>st.

F

66 EURIPIDES. [L. 1208—1276

poor child, which of the gods hath destroyed thee thus
foully ? Who is robbing me of thee, old as I am and ripe
for death ? O my child, alas ! would I could die with
thee ! " He ceased his sad lament, and would have raised
his aged frame, but found himself held fast by the fine-
spun robe as ivy that clings to the branches of the bay, and
then ensued a fearful struggle. He strove to rise, but she
still held him back; and if ever he pulled with all his
might, from off his bones his aged flesh he tore. At last
he gave it up, and breathed forth his soul in awful suffering ;
for he could no longer master the pain. So there they lie,
daughter and aged sire, dead side by side, a grievous sight
that calls for tears. And as for thee, I leave thee out of my
consideration, for thyself must discover a means to escape
punishment. Not now for the first time I think this human
life a shadow ; yea, and without shrinking I will say that
they amongst men who pretend to wisdom and expend
deep thought on words do incur a serious charge of folly ;
for amongst mortals no man is happy; wealth may pour
in and make one luckier than another, but none can
happy be.

CHO. This day the deity, it seems, will mass on Jason, as
he well deserves, a heavy load of evils. Woe is thee,
daughter of Creon ! We pity thy sad fate, gone as thou
art to Hades' halls as the price of thy marriage with Jason.

MED. My friends, I am resolved upon the deed ; at once
will I slay my children and then leave this land, without
delaying long enough to hand them over to some more
savage hand to butcher. Needs must they die in any case;
and since they must, I will slay them — I, the mother that
bare them. O heart of mine, steel thyself! Why do I
hesitate to do the awful deed that must be done ? Come,
take the sword, thou wretched hand of mine ! Take it,
and advance to the post whence starts thy life of sorrow !
Away with cowardice ! Give not one thought to thy babes,

MEDEA. 67

how dear they are or how thou art their mother This one
brief day forget thy children dear, and after that lament ;
for though thou wilt slay them yet they were thy darlings
still, and 1 I am a lady of sorrows.

CHO. O earth, O sun whose beam illumines all, look,
look upon this lost woman, ere she stretch forth her mur-
derous hand upon her sons for blood ; for lo ! these are
scions of thy own golden seed, and the blood of gods is in
danger of being shed by man. O light, from Zeus proceed-
ing, stay her, hold her hand, forth from the house chase this
fell bloody fiend by demons led. Vainly wasted were the
throes thy children cost thee ; vainly hast thou born, it
seems, sweet babes, O thou who hast left behind thee that
passage through the blue Symplegades, that strangers justly
hate. Ah ! hapless one, why doth fierce anger thy soul
assail ? Why 2 in its place is fell murder growing up ? For
grievous unto mortal men are pollutions that come of
kindred blood poured on the earth, woes to suit each crime
hurled from heaven on the murderer's house.

ist SON (within). Ah, me; what can I do? Whither fly
to escape my mother's blows ?

2nd SON (within). I know not, sweet brother mine ; we
are undone.

CHO. Didst hear, didst hear the children's cry ? O lady,
born to sorrow, victim of an evil fate ! Shall I enter the
house ? For the children's sake I am resolved to ward off
the murder.

ist SON (within). Yea, by heaven I adjure you ; help,
your aid is needed.

1 The construction is intentionally irregular. Her emotion prevents
a grammatical completion of the sentence.

* This use of apeificrat is so unusual that the passage is open to grave
suspicion. The three following lines are extremely confused and pro-
bably corrupt. Weil proposes iirtytipiv for 'CTTI -yatav ; var. lect. lor

68 EURIPIDES, [L. 1277—1342

2nd Son (itnthin). Even nowthe toils of the sword are
closing round us.

CHO. O hapless mother, surely thou hast a heart of stone
or steel to slay the offspring of thy womb by such a mur-
derous doom. Of all the wives of yore I know but one who
laid her hand upon her children dear, even Ino,1 whom the
gods did madden in the day that the wife of Zeus drove
her wandering from her home. But she, poor sufferer,
flung herself into the sea because of the foul murder of her
children, leaping o'er the wave-beat cliff, and in her death
was she united to her children twain. Can there be any
deed of horror left to follow this ? Woe for the wooing of
women fraught with disaster ! What sorrows hast thou
caused for men ere now !

JAS. Ladies, stationed near this house, pray tell me is
the author of these hideous deeds, Medea, still within,
or hath she fled from hence ? For she must hide
beneath the earth or soar on wings towards heaven's vault,
if she would avoid the vengeance of the royal house.
Is she so sure she will escape herself unpunished from
this house, when she hath slain the rulers of the land?
But enough of this ! I am forgetting her children.
As for her, those whom she hath wronged will do
the like by her; but I am come to save the children's
life, lest the victim's kin visit their wrath on me, in ven-
geance for the murder foul, wrought by my children's
mother.

CHO. Unhappy man, thou knowest not the full extent of
thy misery, else had thou never said those words.

JAS. How now ? Can she want to kill me too ?

CHO. Thy sons are dead; slain by their own mother's
hand.

1 This is Euripides' version of the legend, not the usual one ; which
makes Athamas the father go mad and kill one son, while Ino leaps
into the sea with the other.

MEDEA. 69

JAS. O God! what sayest thou? Woman, thou hast
sealed my doom.

CHO. Thy children are no more ; be sure of this

JAS. Where slew she them ; within the palace or out-
side?

CHO. Throw wide the doors and see thy children's mur-
dered corpses.

JAS. Haste, ye slaves, loose the bolts, undo the fastenings,
that I may see the sight of twofold woe, my murdered sons
and her, whose blood in vengeance I will shed.

[MEDEA in mid air, on a chariot drawn by dragons ;
the children's corpses by her.

MED. Why shake those doors and attempt to loose their
bolts, in quest of the dead and me their murderess ? From
such toil desist. If thou wouldst aught with me, say on, if
so thou wilt ; but never shalt thou lay hand on me, so swift
the steeds the sun, my father's sire, to me doth give to save
me from the hand of my foes.

JAS. Accursed woman ! by gods, by me and all mankind
abhorred as never woman was, who hadst the heart to stab
thy babes, thou their mother, leaving me undone and child-
less ; this hast thou done and still dost gaze upon the sun
and earth after this deed most impious. Curses on thee !
I now perceive what then I missed in the day I brought
thee, fraught with doom, from thy home in a barbarian
land to dwell in Hellas, traitress to thy sire and to the land
that nurtured thee. On me the gods have hurled the curse
that dogged thy steps, for thou didst slay thy brother at his
hearth ere thou cam'st aboard our fair ship " Argo." Such
was the outset of thy life of crime ; then didst thou wed
with me, and having born me sons to glut thy passion's lust,
thou now hast slain them. Not one amongst the wives of
Hellas e'er had dared this deed; yet before them all I
chose thee for my wife, wedding a fee to be my doom,
no woman, but a lioness fiercer than Tyrrhene Scylla in

70 EURIPIDES [L. 1343—1398

nature. But with reproaches heaped a thousandfold I can-
not wound thee, so brazen is thy nature. Perish, vile
sorceress, murderess of thy babes ! Whilst I must mourn
my luckless fate, for I shall ne'er enjoy my new-found
bride, nor shall I have the children, whom I bred and
reared, alive to say the last farewell to me ; nay, I have
lost them.

MED. To this thy speech I could have made a long
retort, but Father Zeus knows well all I have done for thee,
and the treatment thou hast given me. Yet thou wert
not ordained to scorn my love and lead a life of joy in
mockery of me, nor was thy royal bride nor Creon, who
gave thee a second wife, to thrust me from this land and
rue it not. Wherefore, if thou wilt, call me e'en a lioness,
and Scylla, whose home is in the Tyrrhene land ; for I in
turn have wrung thy heart, as well I might.

JAS. Thou, too, art grieved thyself, and sharest in my
sorrow.

MED. Be well assured I am ; but it relieves my pain to
know thou canst not mock at me.

JAS. O my children, how vile a mother ye have found !

MED. My sons, your father's feeble lust has been your
ruin !

JAS. Twas not my hand, at any rate, that slew them.

MED. No, but thy foul treatment of me, and thy new
marriage.

JAS. Didst think that marriage cause enough to murder
them?

MED. Dost think a woman counts this a trifling injury ?

JAS. So she be self-restrained ; but in thy eyes all is evil.

MED. Thy sons are dead and gone. That will stab thy
heart.

JAS. They live, methinks,1 to bring a curse upon thy
head.

1 Reading ofywu with Tyrrwhitt.

MEDEA. 7 1

MED. The gods know, whoso of them began this troublous
coil.

JAS. Indeed, they know that hateful heart of thine.

MED. Thou art as hateful. I am aweary of thy bitter
tongue.

JAS. And I likewise of thine. But parting is easy.

MED. Say how ; what am I to do ? for I am fain as thou
to go.

JAS. Give up to me those dead, to bury and lament.

MED. No, never ! I will bury them myself, bearing them
to Hera's sacred field, who watches o'er the Cape, that none
of their foes may insult them by pulling down their tombs ;
and in this land of Sisyphus I will ordain hereafter a solemn
feast and mystic rites to atone for this impious murder.
Myself will now to the land of Erechtheus, to dwell with
^Egeus, Pandion's son. But thou, as well thou mayest,
shalt die a caitiff's death, thy head1 crushed 'neath a shat-
tered relic of Argo, when thou hast seen the bitter ending
of my marriage.

JAS. The curse of our sons' avenging spirit and of Justice,
that calls for blood, be on thee !

MED. What god or power divine hears thee, breaker of
oaths and every law of hospitality ?

JAS. Fie upon thee ! cursed witch ! child-murderess !

MED. To thy house ! go, bury thy wife.

JAS. I go, bereft of both my sons.

MED. Thy grief is yet to come ; wait till old age is with
thee too.

JAS. O my dear, dear children !

MED. Dear to their mother, not to thee.

JAS. And yet thou didst slay them?

MED. Yea, to vex thy heart.

1 Legend told how Jason was slain by a beam falling on him as he
lay asleep under the shadow of his ship Argo.

72 EURIPIDES.

JAS. One last fond kiss, ah me ! I fain would on their
lips imprint.

MED. Embraces now, and fond farewells for them ; but
then a cold repulse !

JAS. By heaven I do adjure thee, let me touch their
tender skin.

MED. No, no ! in vain this word has sped its flight.

JAS..O Zeus, dost hear how I am driven hence; dost
mark the treatment I receive from this she-lion, fell mur-
deress of her young? Yet so far as I may and can, I raise
for them a dirge, and do adjure l the gods to witness how thou
hast slain my sons, and wilt not suffer me to embrace or
bury their dead bodies. Would I had never begotten
them to see thee slay them after all !

CHO. Many a fate doth Zeus dispense, high on his
Olympian throne; oft do the gods bring things to pass
beyond man's expectation ; that, which we thought would
be, is not fulfilled, while for the unlooked-for god finds out
a way ; and such hath been the issue of this matter.

, Blomfield's emendation for MSS.

HIPPOLYTUS.

DRAMATIS PERSONS.

APHRODITE.

HIPPOLYTUS.

ATTENDANTS OF HIPPOLYTUS.

CHORUS OF TRCEZENIAN WOMEN.

NURSE OF PHJEDRA.

PHAEDRA.

THESEUS.

FIRST MESSENGER.

SECOND MESSENGER.

ARTEMIS.

SCENE,— Before the palace of Pittheus at Tree/en.

HIPPOLYTUS.

APH. Wide o'er man my realm extends, and proud the
name that I, the goddess Cypris, bear, both in heaven's
courts and 'mongst all those who dwell within the limits of
the sea l and the bounds of Atlas, beholding the sun-god's
light; those that respect my power I advance to honour,
but bring to ruin all who vaunt themselves at me. For even
in the race of gods this feeling finds a home, even pleasure
at the honour men pay them. And the truth of this I soon
will show; for that son of Theseus, born of the Amazon,
Hippolytus, whom holy Pittheus taught, alone of all the
dwellers in this land of Troezen, calls me vilest of the
deities. Love he scorns, and, as for marriage, will none of
it; but Artemis, daughter of Zeus, sister of Phoebus, he
doth honour, counting her the chief of goddesses, and ever
through the greenwood, attendant on his virgin goddess, he
clears the earth of wild beasts with his fleet hounds, enjoy-
ing the comradeship of one too high for mortal ken. Tis
not this I grudge him, no ! why should I ? But for his sins
against me, I will this very day take vengeance on Hippo-
lytus ; for long ago I cleared the ground of many obstacles,
so it needs but trifling toil. For as he came one day from
the home of Pittheus to witness the solemn mystic rites and
be initiated therein in Pandion's land,3 Phaedra, his father's
noble wife, caught sight of him, and by my designs she
found her heart was seized with wild desire. And ere she
came to this Troezenian realm, a temple did she rear to

1 i.e. the Euxiue. * i.-e. Attica.

76 EURIPIDES. [L. 30 — 103

Cypris hard by the rock of Pallas where it o'erlooks this
country, for love of the youth in another land; and to win his
love in days to come she called after his name the temple she
had founded for the goddess. Now, when Theseus left the
land of Cecrops, flying the pollution of the blood of Pallas' l
sons, and with his wife sailed to this shore, content to suffer
exile for a year, then began the wretched wife to pine away
in silence, moaning 'neath love's cruel scourge, and none of
her servants knows what ails her. But this passion of hers
must not fail thus. No, I will discover the matter to
Theseus, and all shall be laid bare. Then will the father slay
his child, my bitter foe, by curses, for the lord Poseidon
granted this boon to Theseus ; three wishes of the god to
ask, nor ever ask in vain. So Phaedra is to die, an honoured
death 'tis true, but still to die ; for I will not let her suffer-
ing outweigh the payment of such forfeit by my foes as
shall satisfy my honour. But lo ! I see the son of
Theseus coming hither — Hippolytus, fresh from the labours
of the chase. I will get me hence. At his back follows a
long train of retainers, in joyous cries of revelry uniting and
hymns of praise to Artemis, his goddess ; for little he recks
that Death hath oped his gates for him, and that this is his
last look upon the light.

HIP. Come follow, friends, singing to Artemis, daughter
of Zeus, throned in the sky, whose votaries we are.

ATT. Lady goddess, awful queen, daughter of Zeus, all
hail ! hail ! child of Latona and of Zeus, peerless mid the
virgin choir, who hast thy dwelling in heaven's wide man-
sions at thy noble father's court, in the golden house of
Zeus.

HIP. All hail ! most beauteous Artemis, lovelier far
than all the daughters of Olympus ! For thee, O mistress
mine, I bring this woven wreath, culled from a virgin"

1 Descendants of Pandion, king of Cecropia, slain by Theseus to
obtain the kingdom.

HIPPOLYTUS. 77

meadow, where nor shepherd dares to herd his flock nor
ever scythe hath mown, but o'er the mead unshorn the bee
doth wing its way in spring ; and with the dew from rivers
drawn purity that garden tends. Such as know no cunning
lore, yet in whose nature self-control, made perfect, hath a
home, these may pluck the flowers, but not the wicked
world. Accept, I pray, dear mistress, mine this chaplet
from my holy hand to crown thy locks of gold ; for I, and
none other of mortals, have this high guerdon, to be with
thee, with thee converse, hearing thy voice, though not thy
face beholding. So be it mine to end my life as I began.

ATT. My prince ! we needs must call upon the gods, our
lords, so wilt thou listen to a friendly word from me ?

HIP. Why, that will I ! else were I proved a fool.

ATT. Dost know, then, the way of the world ?

HIP. Not I ; but wherefore such a question ?

ATT. It hates reserve which careth not for all men's love.

HIP. And rightly too ; reserve in man is ever galling.

ATT. But there's a charm in courteous affability ?

HIP. The greatest surely ; aye, and profit, too, at trifling
cost.

ATT. Dost think the same law holds in heaven as well ?

HIP. I trow it doth, since all our laws we men from
heaven draw.

ATT. Why, then, dost thou neglect to greet an august
goddess ? l

HIP. Whom speak'st thou of? Keep watch upon thy
tongue lest it some mischief cause.

ATT. Cypris I mean, whose image is stationed o'er thy gate.

HIP. I greet her from afar, preserving still my chastity.

ATT. Yet is she an august goddess, far renowned on
earth.

1 Mahaffy rearranges these next nine lines and certainly obtains a
dearer meaning. His note repays study, if not wholly convincing.
I translate from Paley's text as it stands.

78 EURIPIDES. [L. 104 — 198

HIP. 'Mongst gods as well as men we have our several
preferences.

ATT. I wish thee luck, and wisdom too, so far as thou
dost need it.

HIP. No god, whose worship craves the night, hath
charms for me.

ATT. My son, we should avail us of the gifts that gods
confer.

HIP. Go in, my faithful followers, and make ready food
within the house ; a well-filled board hath charms after the
chase is o'er. Rub down my steeds ye must, that when I
have had my fill I may yoke them to the chariot and give
them proper exercise. As for thy Queen of Love, a long
farewell to her. {Exit HIPPOLYTUS.

ATT. Meantime I with sober mind, for I must not copy
my young master, do offer up my prayer to thy image, lady
Cypris, in such words as it becomes a slave to use. But
thou should'st pardon all, who, in youth's impetuous heat,
speak idle words of thee ; make as though thou hearest not,
for gods must needs be wiser than the sons of men.

CHO. A rock there is, where, as they say, the ocean dew-
distils, and from its beetling brow it pours a copious stream
for pitchers to be dipped therein ; 'twas here I had a friend
washing robes of purple in the trickling stream, and she
was spreading them out on the face of a warm sunny rock ;
from her I had the tidings, first of all, that my mistress was
wasting on the bed of sickness, pent within her house, a
thin veil o'ershadowing her head of golden hair. And this
is the third day I hear that she hath closed her lovely lips
and denied her chaste body all sustenance, eager to hide
her suffering and reach death's cheerless bourn. Maiden,
thou must be possessed, by Pan made frantic or by Hecate,
or by the Corybantes dread, and Cybele the mountain
mother. Or maybe thou hast sinned against Dictynna,
huntress-queen, and art wasting for thy guilt in sacrifice

HIPPOLYTUS. 79

unoffered. For she doth range o'er lakes' expanse and
past the bounds of earth upon the ocean's tossing billows.
Or doth some rival in thy house beguile thy lord, the cap-
tain of Erechtheus' sons, that hero nobly born, to secret
amours hid from thee ? Or hath some mariner sailing
hither from Crete reached this port that sailors love, with
evil tidings for our queen, and she with sorrow for her
grievous fate is to her bed confined? Yea, and oft o'er
woman's wayward nature settles a feeling of miserable per-
plexity, arising from labour-pains or passionate desire. I,
too, have felt at times this sharp thrill shoot through me,
but I would cry to Artemis, queen of archery, who comes
from heaven to aid us in our travail, and thanks to heaven's
grace she ever comes at my call with welcome help. Look !
where the aged nurse is bringing her forth from the house
before the door, while on her brow the cloud of gloom is
deepening. My soul longs to learn what is her grief, the
canker that is wasting our queen's fading charms.

NUR. O, the ills of mortal men ! the cruel diseases they
endure ! What can I do for thee ? from what refrain ?
Here is the bright sun-light, here the azure sky ; lo ! we
have brought thee on thy bed of sickness without the
palace ; for all thy talk was of coming hither, but soon back
to thy chamber wilt thou hurry. Disappointment follows
fast with thee, thou hast no joy in aught for long; the
present has no power to please; on something absent next
thy heart is set. Better be sick than tend the sick; the
first is but a single ill, the last unites mental grief with
manual toil. Man's whole life is full of anguish ; no respite
from his woes he finds ; but if there is aught to love beyond
this life, night's dark pall doth wrap it round. And so we
show our mad love of this life because its light is shed on
earth, and because we know no other, and have naught
revealed to us of all our earth may hide ; and trusting to
fables we drift at random.

80 EURIPIDES. [L. 199—279

Lift my body, raise my head ! My limbs are all
unstrung, kind friends. O handmaids, lift my arms, my
shapely arms. The tire on my head is too heavy for me to
wear j away with it, and let my tresses o'er my shoulders
fall.

NUR. Be of good heart, dear child ; toss not so wildly
to and fro. Lie still, be brave, so wilt thou find thy sickness
easier to bear ; suffering for mortals is nature's iron law.

PHJE. Ah ! would I could draw a draught of water pure
from some dew-fed spring, and lay me down to rest in the
grassy meadow 'neath the poplar's shade !

NUR. My child, what wild speech is this ? O say not
such things in public, wild whirling words of frenzy bred I

PHM. Away to the mountain take me ! to the wood, to
the pine-trees I will go, where hounds pursue the prey, hard
on the scent of dappled fawns. Ye gods ! what joy to hark
them on, to grasp the barbed dart, to poise Thessalian hunt-
ing-spears close to my golden hair, then let them fly.

NUR. Why, why, my child, these anxious cares? What
hast thou to do with the chase? Why so eager for the
flowing spring, when hard by these towers stands a hill well
watered, whence thou may'st freely draw ?

PHVE. O Artemis, who watchest o'er sea-beat Limna l and
the race-course thundering to the horse's hoofs, would I
were upon thy plains curbing Venetian steeds !

NUR. Why betray thy frenzy in these wild whirling words ?
Now thou wert for hasting hence to the hills away to hunt
wild beasts, and now thy yearning is to drive the steed over
the waveless sands. This needs a cunning seer to say what
god it is that reins thee from the course, distracting thy
senses, child.

PH^E. Ah me ! alas ! what have I done ? Whither have
I strayed, my senses leaving? Mad, mad ! stricken by some
demon's curse ! Woe is me ! Cover my head again, nurse.
1 A sea-coast town of Troezen,

HIPPOLYTUS. 8 1

Shame fills me for the words I have spoken. Hide me
then; from my eyes the tear-drops stream, and for very
shame I turn them away. Tis painful coming to one's
senses again, and madness, evil though it be, has this
advantage, that one has no knowledge of reason's over-
throw.

NUR. There then I cover thee ; but when will death hide
my body in the grave ? Many a lesson length of days is
teaching me. Yea, mortal men should pledge themselves
to moderate friendships only, not to such as reach the very
heart's core ; affection's ties should be light upon them to
let them slip or draw them tight. For one poor heart to
grieve for twain, as I do for my mistress, is a burden sore
to bear. Men say that too engrossing pursuits in life more
oft cause disappointment than pleasure, and too oft are
foes to health. Wherefore I do not praise excess so much
as moderation, and with me wise men will agree.

CHO. O aged dame, faithful nurse of Phaedra, our queen,
we see her sorry plight ; but what it is that ails her we can-
not discern, so fain would learn of thee and hear thy
opinion.

NUR. I question her, but am no wiser, for she will not
answer.

CHO. Nor tell what source these sorrows have ?

NUR. The same answer thou must take, for she is dumb
on every point.

CHO. How weak and wasted is her body !

NUR. What marvel? 'tis three days now since she has
tasted food.

CHO. Is this infatuation, or an attempt to die ?

NUR. Tis death she courts ; such fasting aims at ending
life.

CHO. A strange story ! is her husband satisfied ?

NUR. She hides from him her sorrow, and vows she is
not ill

EURIPIDES. [L. 280-334

CHO. Can he not guess it from her face?

NUR. He is not now in his own country.

CHO. But dost not thou insist in thy endeavour to find
out her complaint, her crazy mind ?

NUR. I have tried every plan, and all in vain ; yet not
even now will I relax my zeal, that thou too, if thou stayest,
mayst witness my devotion to my unhappy mistress. Come,
come, my darling child, let us forget, the twain of us, our
former words; be thou more mild, smoothing that sullen
brow and changing the current of thy thought, and I, if in
aught before I failed in humouring thee, will let that
be and find some better course. If thou art sick with ills
thou canst not name, there be women here to help to set
thee right ; but if thy trouble can to men's ears be divulged,
speak, that physicians may pronounce on it. Come, then,
why so dumb? Thou shouldst not so remain, my child,
but scold me if I speak amiss, or, if I give good counsel,
yield assent. One word, one look this way ! Ah me !
Friends, we waste our toil to no purpose ; we are as far away
as ever ; she would not relent to my arguments then, nor
is she yielding now. Well, grow more stubborn than the
sea, yet be assured of this, that if thou diest thou art a
traitress to thy children, for they will ne'er inherit their
father's halls, nay, by that knightly queen the Amazon l
who bore a son to lord it over thine, a bastard born
but not a bastard bred, whom well thou knowest, e'en
Hippolytus.

PH/E. Oh ! oh !

NUR Ha ! doth that touch the quick?

PHM. Thou hast undone me, nurse; I do adjure by the
gods, mention that man no more.

NUR. There now ! thou art thyself again, but e'en yet
refusest to aid thy children and preserve thy life,

1 Hippolytus was the son of Theseus by a former union with the
qussn of the Amazons.

HIPPOLYTUS. 83

PH;E. My babes I love, but there is another storm that
buffets me.

NUR. Daughter, are thy hands from bloodshed pure ?

PH^E. My hands are pure, but on my soul there rests a
stain.

NUR. The issue 01' some enemy's secret witchery ?

PH^E. A friend is my destroyer, one unwilling as myself.

NUR. Hath Theseus wronged thee in any wise?

PH^E. Never may I prove untrue to him ! l

NUR. Then what strange mystery is there that drives
thee on to die ?

PKLE. O, let my sin and me alone ! 'tis not 'gainst thee I
sin.

NUR. Never willingly ! and, if I fail, 'twill rest at thy
door.

PH&. How now? thou usest force in clinging to my hand.

NUR. Yea, and I will never loose my hold upon thy
knees.

PH/E. Alas for thee ! my sorrows, shouldst thou learn
them, would recoil on thee.

NUR. What keener grief for me than failing to win thee ?

PH^E. 'Twill be death to thee ; though to me that brings
renown.1

NUR. And dost thou then conceal this boon despite my
prayers ?

PH^E. I do, for 'tis out of shame I am planning an
honourable escape.

NUR. Tell it, and thine honour shall the brighter shine.

PH^E. Away, I do conjure thee ; loose my hand,

NUR. I will not, for the boon thou shouldst have granted
me is denied.

1 i.e. as he never has proved so to me.

2 o\« (i) and sing. Fut. Mid. 'thou wilt die' as a consequence of
sharing my secret (Paley). (2) 3rd sing. Fut. Active 'it will kill me '
to keep silence, though that better ensures my honour.

84 EURIPIDES. [L. 335-393

I will grant it out of reverence for thy holy sup-
pliant touch.

NUR. Henceforth I hold my peace ; 'tis thine to speak
from now.

PH^E. Ah ! hapless mother,1 what a love was thine !

NUR. Her love for the bull ? daughter, or what meanest
thou ?

PEUE. And woe to thee ! my sister,2 bride of Dionysus.

NUR. What ails thee, child ? speaking ill of kith and kin.

PH^E. Myself the third to suffer ! how am I undone !

NUR. Thou strik'st me dumb ! Where will this history
end?

PH^E. That " love " has been our curse from time long
past.

NUR. I know no more of what I fain would learn.

PHJE. Ah! would thou couldst say for me what I have
to tell.

NUR. I am no prophetess to unriddle secrets.

PH^E. What is it they mean when they talk of people
being in "love?"

NUR. At once the sweetest and the bitterest thing, my
child.

PH/E. I shall only find the latter half.

NUR. Ha ! my child, art thou in love ?

PH^E. The Amazon's son, whoever he may be, —

NUR. Mean'st thou Hippolytus ?

PH/E. 'Twas thou, not I, that spoke his name.

NUR. O heavens 1 what is this, my child ? Thou hast
ruined me. Outrageous ! friends ; I will not live and bear
it; hateful is life, hateful to mine eyes the light. This
body I resign, will cast it off, and rid me of existence by

1 Pasiphae, wife of Minos, deceived by Aphrodite into a fatal passion
for a bull. Cf. Verg. y£n. vi. ad init., also Ovid Metam., viii, 131 sqq.

2 Ariadne, deserted by Theseus in the isle of Naxos, where Dionysus
found her.

HIPPOLYTUS. 85

my death. Farewell, my life is o'er. Yea, for the chaste
have wicked passions, 'gainst their will maybe, but still
they have. Cypris, it seems, is not a goddess after all, but
something greater far, for she hath been the ruin of my
lady and of me and our whole family.

CHO. O, too clearly didst thou hear our queen uplift
her voice to tell her startling tale of piteous suffering.
Come death ere I reach thy state of feeling,1 loved mistress.
O horrible ! woe, for these miseries ! woe, for the sorrows
on which mortals feed ! Thou art undone ! thou hast dis-
closed thy sin to heaven's light. What hath each passing
day and every hour in store for thee? Some strange event
will come to pass in this house. For it is no longer uncer-
tain where the star of thy love is setting, thou hapless
daughter 2 of Crete.

PH^E. Ladies of Trcezen, who dwell here upon the frontier
edge of Pelops' land, oft ere now in heedless mood through
the long hours of night have I wondered why man's life is
spoiled ; and it seems to me their evil case is not due to any
natural fault of judgment, for there be many dowered with
sense, but we must view the matter in this light ; by teaching
and experience we learn the right but neglect it in practice,
some from sloth, others from preferring pleasure of some kind
or other to duty. Now life has many pleasures, protracted
talk, and leisure, that seductive evil ; likewise there is shame
which is of two kinds, one a noble quality, the other a curse
to families; but if for each its proper time were clearly
known, these twain could not have had the selfsame letters
to denote them. So then since I had made up my mind
on these points, 'twas not likely any drug would alter it and
make me think the contrary. And I will tell thee too the
way my judgment went. When love wounded me, I
bethought me how I best might bear the smart. So from

1 Or ' before thou accomplish thy purpose.'

2 She was daughter of Minos, king of Crete.

86 EURIPIDES. [L. 394-472

that day forth I began to hide in silence what I suffered.
For I put no faith in counsellors, who know well to lecture
others for presumption, yet themselves have countless
troubles of their own. Next I did devise noble endurance
of these wanton thoughts, striving by continence for victory.
And last when I could not succeed in mastering love hereby,
methought it best to die ; and none can gainsay my pur-
pose. For fain I would my virtue should to all appear, my
shame have few to witness it. I knew my sickly passion
now ; to yield to it I saw how infamous ; and more, I learnt
to know so well that I was but a woman, a thing the world
detests. Curses, hideous curses on that wife, who first did
shame her marriage-vow for lovers other than her lord !
'Twas from noble families this curse began to spread among
our sex. For when the noble countenance disgrace, poor
folk of course will think that it is right. Those too I hate
who make profession of purity, though in secret reckless
sinners. How can these, queen Cypris, ocean's child, e'er
look their husbands in the face? do they never feel one
guilty thrill that their accomplice, night, or the chambers of
their house will find a voice and speak? This it is that calls
on me to die, kind friends, that so I may ne'er be found to
have disgraced my lord, or the children I have born ; no !
may they grow up and dwell in glorious Athens, free to
speak and act, heirs to such fair fame as a mother can
bequeath. For to know that father or mother have sinned
doth turn the stoutest heart to slavishness. This alone,
men say, can stand the buffets of life's battle, a just and
virtuous soul in whomsoever found. For time unmasks the
villain sooner or later, holding up to them a mirror as to
some blooming maid. 'Mongst such may I be never seen !

CHO. Now look ! how fair is chastity however viewed,
whose fruit is good repute amongst men.

NUR. My queen, 'tis true thy tale of woe, but lately told,
did for the moment strike me with wild alarm, but now I do

HIPPOLYTUS. 87

reflect upon my foolishness ; second thoughts are often best
even with men. Thy fate is no uncommon one nor past
one's calculations ; thou art stricken by the passion Cypris
sends. Thou art in love ; what wonder? so are many more.
Wilt thou, because thou lov'st, destroy thyself? 'Tis little
gain, I trow, for those who love or yet may love their fellows,
if death must be their end ; for though the Love-Queen's
onset in her might is more than man can bear, yet doth she
gently visit yielding hearts, and only when she finds a proud
unnatural spirit, doth she take and mock it past belief. Her
path is in the sky, and mid the ocean's surge she rides ;
from her all nature springs; she sows the seeds of love,
inspires the warm desire to which we sons of earth all owe
our being. They who have aught to do with books of
ancient scribes, or themselves engage in studious pursuits,
know how Zeus of Semele was enamoured, how the bright-
eyed goddess of the Dawn once stole Cephalus to dwell in
heaven for the love she bore him ; yet these in heaven
abide nor shun the gods' approach, content, I trow, to yield
to their misfortune. Wilt thou refuse to yield? thy sire,
it seems, should have begotten thee on special terms or with
different gods for masters, if in these laws thou wilt not
acquiesce. How many, prithee, men of sterling sense, when
they see their wives unfaithful, make as though they saw it
not ? How many fathers, when their sons have gone astray,
assist them in their amours ? 'tis part of human wisdom to
conceal the deed of shame. Nor should man aim at exces-
sive refinement in his life ; for ' they cannot with exactness
finish e'en the roof that covers in a house ; and how dost
thou, after falling into so deep a pit, think to escape ? Nay,
if thou hast more of good than bad, thou wilt fare exceeding

1 These lines are probably corrupt, but no satisfactory emendation
has been supplied to make the sense more perfect. A conjectural
reading is RO.VWV cJ*cpi/3wcr£i 'di>, but this involves an elision foreign to
tragic usage.

88 EURIPIDES. [L. 473-536

well, thy human nature considered. O cease, my darling
child, from evil thoughts, let wanton pride be gone, for this
is naught else, this wish to rival gods in perfectness. Face
thy love ; 'tis heaven's will thou shouldst. Sick thou art,
yet turn thy sickness to some happy issue. For there are
charms and spells to soothe the soul ; surely some cure for
thy disease will be found. Men, no doubt, might seek it
long and late if our women's minds no scheme devise.

Cho. Although she gives thee at thy present need the
wiser counsel, Phaedra, yet do I praise thee. Still my
praise may sound more harsh and jar more cruelly on thy
ear than her advice.

PH/E. 'Tis even this, too plausible a tongue, that over-
throws good governments and homes of men. We should
not speak to please the ear but point the path that leads to
noble fame.

NUR. What means this solemn speech? No need of
rounded phrases ; l but at once must we sound the prince, tell-
ing him frankly how it is with thee. Had not thy life to such
a crisis come,2 or wert thou with self-control endowed, ne'er
would I to gratify thy passions have urged thee to this
course ; but now 'tis a struggle fierce to save thy life, and
therefore less to blame.

PH.E. Accursed proposal ! peace, woman ! never utter
those shameful words again !

NUR. Shameful, maybe, yet for thee better than honour's
code. Better this deed, if it shall save thy life, than that
name thy pride will kill thee to retain.

PH^E. I conjure thee, go no further ! for thy words are
plausible but infamous ; for though as yet love has not 3

1 The punctuation here adopted from Nauck is a vast improvement
on the old reading, which put the stop after ravtipoQ, and gave a most
coarse sentiment even for so lax a moralist as Phaedra's nurse to utter.

2 Nauck brackets these two lines, and for irpoijyov reads Trwg Tjyor ;

3 I foliow Nauck in reading ov for tv. t>7mpya<r/zai = 'have been

HIPrOLYTUS. 89

undermined my soul, yet, if in specious words thou dress
thy foul suggestion, 1 shall be beguiled into the snare from
which I am now escaping.

NUR. If thou art of this mind, 'twere well thou ne'er
hadst sinned ; but as it iss hear me ; for that is the next
best course ; I in my house have charms to soothe thy love,
— 'twas but now I thought of them ; — these shall cure thee
of thy sickness on no disgraceful terms, thy mind unhurt, if
thou wilt be but brave. [But from him thou lovest we must
get some token, a word or fragment of his robe, and thereby
unite in one love's twofold stream.] l

PHM. Is thy drug a salve or potion ?

NUR. I cannot tell ; be content, my child, to profit by it
and ask no questions.

PH/E. I fear me thou wilt prove too wise for me.

NUR. If thou fear this, confess thyself afraid of all ; but
why thy terror?

PH^E. Lest thou shouldst breathe a word of this to
Theseus' son.

NUR. Peace, my child ! I will do all things well ; only be
•< thou, queen Cypris, ocean's child, my partner in the work !
And for the rest of my purpose, it will be enough for me to
tell it to our friends within the house. [Exit Nurse.

CHO. O Love, Love, that from the eyes diffusest soft
desire, bringing on the souls of those, whom thou dost camp
against, sweet grace, O never in evil mood appear to me,
nor out of time and tune approach ! Nor fire nor meteor
hurls a mightier bolt than Aphrodite's shaft shot by the
hands of Love, the child of Zeus. Idly, idly by the streams
of Alpheus and in the Pythian shrines of Phoebus, Hellas

subdued ' — according to Paley and Liddell and Scott (passive). Mahaffy
extracts a middle sense ' prepared my soul for love's entry,' and adopts
the conjectural ov, which would certainly seem to add clearness.

1 These lines are perhaps spurious. Nauck and Weil both bracket
them.

9O EURIPIDES. [L. 537-617

heaps the slaughtered steers ; while Love we worship not,
Love, the king of men, who holds the key to Aphrodite's
sweetest bower, — worship not him who, when he comes, lays
waste and marks his path to mortal hearts by wide-spread
woe. There was that maiden 1 in CEchalia, a girl unwed,
that knew no wooer yet nor married joys ; her did the queen
of Love2 snatch from her home across the sea and gave unto
Alcmena's son, mid blood and smoke and murderous
marriage-hymns, to be to him a frantic fiend of hell ; woe !
woe for his wooing !

Ah ! holy walls of Thebes, ah ! fount of Dirce, ye could
testify what course the love-queen follows. For with the
blazing levin-bolt did she cut short the fatal marriage of
Semele, mother of Zeus-born Bacchus. All things she doth
inspire, dread goddess, winging her flight hither and thither
like a bee.

PH^E. Peace, ladies, peace ! I am undone.

CHO. What, Phaedra, is this dread event within thy
house ?

PH^E. Hush ! let me hear what those within are saying.

CHO. I am silent; this is surely the prelude to mischief.

PH^E. Great gods ! how awful are my sufferings !

CHO. What a cry was there ! what loud alarm ! say what
sudden terror, lady, doth thy soul dismay.

PHM. I am undone. Stand here at the door and hear
the noise arising in the house.

CHO. Thou art already by the bolted door ; 'tis for thee
to note the sounds that issue from within. And tell me, O
till me what mischief can be on foot.

1 lole, daughter of Eurytus, king of CEchalia. Her father refused,
after promising, to give her to Heracles, who thereupon took her by
force.

a There is some corruption here. It is probable the doubtful e/'peo-i'p
conceals an allusion to Eurytus, as Monk indeed suggests ; but the
passage is not yet satisfactorily emended.

HIPPOLYTUS. 91

'Tis the son of the horse-loving Amazon who calls,
Hippolytus, uttering foul curses on my servant.

CHO. I hear a noise, but cannot clearly tell l which way it
comes. Ah ! 'tis through the door the sound reached thee.

PH^E. Yes, yes, he is calling her plainly enough a go-
between in vice, traitress to her master's honour.

CHO. Woe, woe is me ! thou art betrayed, dear mistress !
What counsel shall I give thee ? thy secret is out ; thou art
utterly undone.

PH;E. Ah me ! ah me !

CHO. Betrayed by friends !

PH^E. She hath ruined me by speaking of my misfortune ;
'twas kindly meant, but an ill way to cure my malady.

CHO. O what wilt thou do now in thy cruel dilemma ?

PH^E. I only know one way, one cure for these my woes*
and that is instant death.

HIP. O mother earth ! O sun's unclouded orb ! What
words, unfit for any lips, have reached my ears !

NUR. Peace, my son, lest some one hear thy outcry.

HIP. I cannot hear such awful words and hold my peace.

NUR. I do implore thee by thy fair right hand.

HIP. Let go my hand, touch not my robe.

NUR. O by thy knees I pray, destroy me not utterly.

HIP. Why say this, if, as thou pretendest, thy lips are free
from blame ?

NUR. My son, this is no story to be noised abroad.

HIP. A virtuous tale grows fairer told to many.

NUR. Never dishonour thy oath, thy son.

HIP. My tongue an oath did take, but not my heart.

NUR. My son, what wilt thou do ? destroy thy friends ?

HIP. Friends indeed ! the wicked are no friends of mine.

NUR. O pardon me ; to err is only human, child.

HIP. Great Zeus, why didst thou, to man's sorrow, put
woman, evil counterfeit, to dwell where shines the sun ? If
1 Reading oTry. The old reading was OTTO.

92 EURIPIDES. [L. 618-692

thou vvert minded that the human race should multiply, it
was not from women they should have drawn their stock,
but in thy temples they should have paid gold or iron or
ponderous bronze and bought a family, each man propor-
tioned to his offering, and so in independence dwelt, from
women free. [But now as soon as ever we would bring this
plague into our home we bring its fortune to the ground.] 1
'Tis clear from this how great a curse a woman is ; the very
father, that begot and nurtured her, to rid him of the mis-
chief, gives her a dower and packs her off; while the
husband, who takes the noxious weed into his home,
fondly decks his sorry idol in fine raiment and tricks her
out in robes, squandering by degrees, unhappy wight ! his
house's wealth. For he is in this dilemma ; say his
marriage has brought him good connections, he is glad
then to keep the wife he loathes ; or, if he gets a good wife
but useless relations, he tries to stifle the bad luck with the
good. But it is easiest for him who has settled in his house
as wife a mere nobody,2 incapable from simplicity. I hate a
clever woman; never may she set foot in my house who
aims at knowing more than women need ; for in these
clever women Cypris implants a larger store of villainy,
while the artless woman is by her shallow wit from levity
debarred. No servant should ever have had access to a
wife, but men should put to live with them beasts, which
bite, not talk, in which case they could not speak to any
one nor be answered back by them. But, as it is, the
wicked in their chambers plot wickedness, and their servants
carry it abroad. Even thus, vile wretch, thou cam'st to
make me partner in an outrage on my father's honour ;
wherefore I must wash that stain away in running streams,
dashing the water into my ears. How could I commit so
foul a crime when by the very mention of it I feel myself

1 Nauck brackets these two lines as spurious.

1 For d\Xd Weil proposes ova. Another conjecture is dXXd

HIPPOLYTUS. 93

polluted? Be well assured, woman, 'tis only my religious
scruple saves thee. For had not I unawares been caught
by an oath, 'fore heaven ! I would not have refrained from
telling all unto my father. But now I will from the house
away, so long as Theseus is abroad, and will maintain strict
silence. But, when my father comes, I will return and see how
thou and thy mistress face him, and so shall I learn by ex-
perience the extent of thy audacity. Perdition seize you
both ! (To the audience). I can never satisfy my hate for
women, no ! not even though some say this is ever my theme,
for of a truth they always are evil. So either let some one
prove them chaste, or let me still trample on them for ever.

CHO. O the cruel, unhappy fate of women ! What arts,
what arguments have we, once we have made a slip, to
loose by craft l the tight-drawn knot ?

PH^E. I have met my deserts. O earth, O light of day !
How can I escape the stroke of fate? How my pangs con-
ceal, kind friends ? What god will appear to help me, what
mortal to take my part or help me in unrighteousness ? The
present calamity of my life admits of no escape. Most
hapless I of all my sex !

CHO. Alas, alas ! the deed is done, thy servant's schemes
have gone awry, my queen, and all is lost.

PH^E. Accursed woman ! traitress to thy friends ! How
hast thou ruined »me ! May Zeus, my ancestor, smite thee
with his fiery bolt and uproot thee from thy place. Did I
not foresee thy purpose, did I not bid thee keep silence on
the very matter which is now my shame ? But thou wouldst
not be still ; wherefore my fair name will not go with me to
the tomb. But now I must another scheme devise. Yon
youth, in the keenness of his fury, will tell his father of my
sin, and the aged Pittheus of my state, and fill the world

1 Following Nauck's reading SoXotg. If \6yoy be retained, it would
seem to mean 'loose the tight hold a word can keep on us 'i.e. the
threat of Hippolytus j but it is doubtful if the Greek will bear this.

94 EURIPIDES. [L. 693-775

with stories to my shame. Perdition seize thee and every
meddling fool who by dishonest means would serve unwill-
ing friends !

NUR. Mistress, thou may'st condemn the mischief I have
done, for sorrow's sting o'ermasters thy judgment ; yet can
I answer thee in face of this, if thou wilt hear. 'Twas I
who nurtured thee ; I love thee still ; but in my search for
medicine to cure thy sickness I found what least I sought.
Had I but succeeded, I had been counted wise, for the
credit we get for wisdom is measured by our success.

PH.E. Is it just, is it any satisfaction to me, that thou
shouldst wound me first, then bandy l words with me ?

NUR. We dwell on this too long ; I was not wise, I own ;
but there are yet ways of escape from the trouble, my child.

PH^E. Be dumb henceforth ; evil was thy first advice to
me, evil too thy attempted scheme. Begone and leave me,
look to thyself ; I will my own fortunes for the best arrange.
(Exit Nurse). Ye noble daughters of Trcezen, grant me
the only boon I crave ; in silence bury what ye here have
heard.

CHO. By majestic Artemis, child of Zeus, I swear I will
never divulge aught of thy sorrows.

PH^E. Tis well. But I, with all my thought,2 can but one
way discover out of this calamity, that so I may secure my
children's honour, and find myself some help as matters
stand. For never, never will I bring shame upon my
Cretan home, nor will I, to save one poor life, face Theseus
after my disgrace.

CHO. Art thou bent then on some cureless woe ?

PH/E. On death ; the means thereto must I devise myself.

CHO. Hush !

1 Gvyxwpilv, so Liddell and Scott, but it seems a doubtful usage, and
Nauck suspects the word.

2 The reading TrpoffrptTrovv' offers no clear meaning ; of the various
suggestions Monk's TrpooxoTroiV is the simplest.

HIPPOLYTUS. ;95

PHJE. Do thou at least advise me well. For this very
day shall I gladden Cypris, my destroyer, by yielding up my
life, and shall own myself vanquished by cruel love. Yet
shall my dying be another's curse, that he may learn not to
exult at my misfortunes ; but when he comes to share the
self-same plague with me, he will take a lesson in wisdom.

CHO. O to be nestling 'neath some pathless cavern, there
by god's creating hand to grow into a bird amid the winged
tribes ! Away would I soar to Adria's wave-beat shore and
to the waters of Eridanus ; where a father's hapless daugh-
ters1 in their grief for Phaethon distil into the glooming
flood the amber brilliance of their tears. And to the apple-
bearing strand of those minstrels in the west I then would
come, where ocean's lord no more to sailors grants a passage
o'er the deep dark main, finding there the heaven's holy
bound, upheld by Atlas, where water from ambrosial founts
wells up beside the couch of Zeus inside his halls, and holy
earth, the bounteous mother, causes joy to spring in heavenly
breasts. O white-winged bark, that o'er the booming ocean-
wave didst bring my royal mistress from her happy home,
to crown her queen 'mongst sorrow's brides ! Surely evil
omens from either port, at least from Crete, were with that
ship, what time to glorious Athens it sped its way, and the
crew made fast its twisted cable-ends upon the beach of
Munychus, and on the land stept out. Whence comes it
.that her heart is crushed, cruelly afflicted by Aphrodite
with unholy love; so she by bitter grief o'erwhelmed will
tie a noose within her bridal bower to fit it to her fair while
neck, too modest for this hateful lot in life, prizing o'er all
her name and fame, and striving thus to rid her soul of
passion's sting.

1 The daughters of Helios and Clymene are represented as weeping
for Phaethon their brother on the banks of Eridanus (Po). Ovid Metani.
v. 340 sqq. says the sun turned their tears into amber, and they them-
selves became poplars on the river-bank.

96 EURIPIDES. [L. 776-845

MES. Help ! ho ! To the rescue all who near the palace
stand ! She hath hung herself, our queen, the wife of
Theseus.

CHO. Woe worth the day ! the deed is done ; our royal
mistress is no more, dead she hangs in the dangling noose.

MES. Haste ! some one bring a two-edged knife where-
with to cut the knot about her neck !

IST HALF CHO. Friends, what shall we do? think you
we should enter the house, and loose the queen from the
tight-drawn noose ?

2ND HALF CHO. Why should we ? Are there not young
servants here ? To do too much is not a safe course in
life.

MES. Lay out the hapless corpse, straighten the limbs.
This was a bitter way to sit at home and keep my master's
house ! [Exit Messenger.

CHO. She is dead, poor lady, so I hear. Already are
they laying out the corpse.

THE. Ladies, can ye tell me what the uproar in the palace
means ? There came the sound of servants weeping bitterly
to mine ear. None of my household deign to open wide
the gates and give me glad welcome as a traveller from
prophetic shrines. Hath aught befallen old Pittheus ? No.
Though he be well advanced in years, yet should I mourn,
were he to quit this house.

CHO. 'Tis not against the old, Theseus, that fate, to
strike thee, aims this blow ; prepare thy sorrow for a younger
corpse.

THE. Woe is me ! is it a child's life death robs me of?

CHO. They live ; but, cruellest news of all for thee, their
mother is no more.

THE. What ! my wife dead ? By what cruel mischance ?

CHO. About her neck she tied the hangman's knot.

THE. Had grief so chilled her blood ? or what had be-
fallen her ?

HIPPOLYTUS. 97

CHO. I know but this, for I am myself but now arrived
at the house to mourn thy sorrows, O Theseus.

THE. Woe is me ! why have I crowned my head with
woven garlands, when misfortune greets my embassage?
Unbolt the doors, servants, loose their fastenings, that I may
see the piteous sight, my wife, whose death is death to me.
{The palace opens , disclosing the corpse.

CHO. Woe ! woe is thee for thy piteous lot ! thou hast
done thyself a hurt deep enough to overthrow this family.
Ah ! ah ! the daring of it ! done to death by violence and
unnatural means, the desperate effort of thy own poor hand !
Who cast the shadow o'er thy life, poor lady ?

THE. Ah me, my cruel lot ! sorrow hath done her worst
on me. O fortune, how heavily hast thou set thy foot on
me and on my house, by fiendish hands inflicting an un-
expected stain ? Nay, 'tis complete effacement of my life,
making it impossible ; for I see, alas ! so wide an ocean of
grief that I can never swim to shore again, nor breast the
tide of this calamity. How shall I speak of thee, my poor
wife, what tale of direst suffering tell ? Thou art vanished
like a bird from the covert of my hand, taking one headlong
leap from me to Hades' halls. Alas, and woe ! this is a
bitter, bitter sight ! This must be a j udgment sent by God
for the sins of an ancestor, which from some far source I
am bringing on myself.

CHO. My prince, 'tis not to thee alone such sorrows
come ; thou hast lost a noble wife, but so have many
others.

THE. Fain would I go hide me 'neath earth's blackest
depth, to dwell in darkness with the dead in misery, now
that I am reft of thy dear presence ! for thou hast slain me
than thyself e'en more. Who can tell me what caused the
fatal stroke that reached thy heart, dear wife ? Will no one
toll me what befell ? doth my palace all in vain give shelter
to a herd of menials ? Woe, woe for thee, my wife ! sorrows

H

98 EURIPIDES. [L. 846-916

past speech, past bearing, I behold within my house ; myself
a ruined man, my home a solitude, my children orphans !

CHO. Gone and left us hast thou, fondest wife and noblest
of all women 'neath the sun's bright eye or night's star-lit
radiance.1 Poor house, what sorrows are thy portion
now ! My eyes are wet with streams of tears to see thy
fate ; but the sequel to this tragedy has long with terror
filled me.

THE. Ha ! what means this letter? clasped in her dear
hand it hath some strange tale to tell. Hath she, poor
lady, as a last request, written her bidding as to my marriage
and her children ? Take heart, poor ghost ; no wife hence-
forth shall wed thy Theseus or invade his house. Ah ! how
yon seal of my dead wife stamped with her golden ring
affects my sight ! Come, I will unfold the sealed packet
and read her letter's message to me.

CHO. Woe unto us ! Here is yet another evil in the train
by heaven sent. Looking to what has happened, I should
count my lot in life no longer worth one's while to gain.2
My master's house, alas ! is ruined, brought to naught, I
say. s Spare it, O Heaven, if it may be. Hearken to my
prayer, for I see, as with prophetic eye, an omen boding
mischief.

THE. O horror ! woe on woe ! and still they come, too
deep for words, too heavy to bear. Ah me !

CHO. What is it ? speak, if I may share in it.

THE. This letter loudly tells a hideous tale ! where can I
escape my load of woe ? For I am ruined and undone, so
awful are the words I find here written clear as if she cried
them to me ; woe is me !

1 Reading with Jacobs, whom Nauck follows, ctffrepuirbv <re\ac.

a This passage, as it stands, is unintelligible and corrupt. Paley
attempts to extract a meaning by changing ptv into y'dv, but the result
is not very satisfactory.

3 Nauck brackets the three following lines as suspicious.

HIPPOLYTUS. 99

CHO. Alas ! thy words declare themselves the harbingers
of woe.

THE. I can no longer keep the cursed tale within the
portal of my lips, cruel though its utterance be. Ah me !
Hippolytus hath dared by brutal force to violate my honour,
recking naught of Zeus, whose awful eye is over all. O
father Poseidon, once didst thou promise to fulfil three
prayers of mine ; answer one of these and slay my son, let
him not escape this single day, if the prayers thou gavest
me were indeed with issue fraught.

CHO. O king, I do conjure thee, call back that prayer;
hereafter thou wilt know thy error. Hear, I pray.

THE. Impossible ! Moreover I will banish him from this
land, and by one of two fates shall he be struck down ;
either Poseidon, out of respect to my prayer, will cast his
dead body into the house of Hades; or exiled from this
land, a wanderer to some foreign shore, shall he eke out a
life of misery.

CHO. Lo ! where himself doth come, thy son Hippolytus,
in good time ; dismiss thy hurtful rage, King Theseus, and
bethink thee what is best for thy family.

HIP. I heard thy voice, father, and hasted to come
hither ; yet know I not the cause of thy present l sorrow,
but would fain learn of thee. Ha ! what is this ? thy wife
a corpse I see ; this is passing strange ; 'twas but now I left
her ; a moment since she looked upon the light. How came
she thus ? the manner of her death ? this would I learn of
thee, father. Art dumb ? silence availeth not in trouble ;
nay, for the heart that fain would know all must show its
curiosity even in sorrow's hour. Be sure it is not right,
father, to hide misfortunes from those who love, ay, more
than love thee.

THE. O ye sons of men, victims of a thousand idle errors,

1 Nauck from the Cento of the " Christus Patiens" restores ravvv for
rtvi ; certainly an improvement in the Greek.

100 EURIFIDESL

HIP. A very
fools to be wise! Bat
father, make me fear thy tongue
trouble.

THE. Fie upon thee 5 man needs should have some
certain test set up to try his friends, some touchstone of
their hearts, to know each friend whether he be true or
false; att men should have two voices, one the voice of
honesty, expediency's the other, so would honesty confine
its knavish opposite, and then we could not be deceived.

HIP. Say, hath some friend been slandering me and hadi
he stitt thine ear? am I, though guDdess, banned? I am
amazed indeed; diy random, frantic words fiH me with wild

THE. O die mind of mortal man 5 to what lengdis win it
proceed? What fimit wffl its bold assurance have? for if

Oil lOO flji^ Mji^ff^ DC*OP& hiF|fr m wjUfimy filf* JTOCfeh WlH O9WC tO

add another sphere unto the world, which snaU take in the
knaves and villains. Behold this man ; be, my own son,
hath outraged mine honour, his guilt most dearly proved by
my dead wife. Now, since tiiou hast dared this loathly
dime, come, look thy father in die face. Art thon the man
who dost with gods consort, as one above the vulgar herd?
art thou die chaste and sinless saint? Thy boasts wffl never
pffiSuadc me to be guilty of attributing ignoiance to gods.

-.'. ". r.~. '."II~" 1 1 " 5-r . ! . 1..". I I~~. • t ' "..""•" 1't~'!~" ~~L It L~ '~.^.~. I :

fooned of lifeless food; take Orpheus for dtf chief and go

oftkOrpfaic

HIPPOLYTUS. 101

a-revelling, with all honour for the vapourings of many a
written scroll, seeing thou now art caught. Let all beware,
I say, of such hypocrites ! who hunt their prey with fine
words, and all the while are scheming villainy. She is dead ;
dost think that this will save thee ? Why this convicts thee
more than all, abandoned wretch ! What oaths, what pleas
can outweigh this letter, so that thou shouldst 'scape thy
doom ? Thou wilt assert she hated thee, that '"twixt the
bastard and the true-born child nature has herself put war ;
it seems then by thy showing she made a sorry bargain with
her life, if to gratify her hate of thee she lost what most she
prized. Tis said, no doubt, that frailty finds no place in
man but is innate in woman ; my experience is, young men
are no more secure than women, whenso the Queen of Love
excites a youthful breast ; although their sex comes in to
help them.* Yet why do I thus bandy words with thee,
when before me lies the corpse, to be the clearest witness ?
Begone at once, an exile from this land, and ne'er set foot
again in god-built Athens nor hi the confines of my
dominion. For if I am tamely to submit to this treatment
from such as thee, no more will Sinis,2 robber of the Isthmus,
bear me witness how I slew him, but say my boasts are idle,
nor will those rocks Scironian, that fringe the sea, call me
the miscreants' scourge.

CHO. I know not how to call happy any child of man ;
for that which was first has turned and now is last.

HIP. Father, thy wrath and the tension of thy mind are
terrible; yet this charge, specious though its arguments
appear, becomes a calumny, if one lay it bare. Small skill

1 This apparently means that men, being addicted to the sin men-
tioned, are won disposed to deal lightly with offenders of their own

g.— _. T*—.*. A.!_^ Vrn^ Yvoc ltf-tl^ Twir>t crwl Tvae Ti_n *n rrawl^«m«w1 Yw TT' 1

whose judgment Xaock approves, without however actually noting the
fact in his own text.

* Sinis and Sciron were two notorious evil -doers, whom Theseus had

IO2 EURIPIDES. [L. 986-1046

have I in speaking to a crowd, but have a readier wit for
comrades of mine own age and small companies. Yea, and
this is as it should be ; for they, whom the wise despise, are
better qualified to speak before a mob. Yet am I con-
strained under the present circumstances to break silence.
And at the outset will I take the point which formed the
basis of thy stealthy attack on me, designed to put me out of
court unheard ; dost see yon sun, this earth ? These do not
contain, for all thou dost deny it, chastity surpassing mine.
To reverence God I count the highest knowledge, and to
adopt as friends not those who attempt injustice, but such as
would blush to propose to their companions aught dis-
graceful or pleasure them by shameful services ; to mock at
friends is not my way, father, but I am still the same behind
their backs as to their face. The very crime thou thinkest
to catch me in, is just the one I am untainted with, for to
this day have I kept me pure from women. Nor know I
aught thereof, save what I hear or see in pictures, for I have
no wish to look even on these, so pure my virgin soul. I
grant my claim to chastity may not convince thee ; well, 'tis
then for thee to show the way I was corrupted. Did
this woman exceed in beauty all her sex? Did I aspire to
fill the husband's place after thee and succeed to thy house ?
[ ' That surely would have made me out a fool, a creature void
of sense. Thou wilt say, " Your chaste man loves to lord
it." No, no ! say I, sovereignty pleases only those whose
hearts are quite corrupt. Now, I would be the first and
best at all the games in Hellas, but second in the state, for
ever happy thus with the noblest for my friends. For there
one may be happy, and the absence of danger gives a charm
beyond all princely joys.] One thing I have not said, the

1 The next few lines teem with so many difficulties, and present such
evident traces of corruption that Weil rejects them bodily ; Nauck,
appro-ring .his verdict, endeavours however by new punctuation to extort
a meaning ; while Mahaffy, following a system scarcely likely to win

HIPPOLYTUS. 103

rest thou hast. Had I a witness to attest my purity, and
were I pitted 'gainst her still alive, facts would show thee
on enquiry who the culprit was. Now by Zeus, the god of
oaths, and by the earth, whereon we stand, I swear to thee I
never did lay hand upon thy wife nor would have wished to,
or have harboured such a thought Slay me, ye gods ! rob
me of name and honour, from home and city cast me forth,
a wandering exile o'er the earth ! nor sea nor land receive
my bones when I am dead, if I am such a miscreant ! I
cannot say if she through fear destroyed herself, for more
than this am I forbid. With her discretion took the place
of chastity, while I, though chaste, was not discreet in using
this virtue.1

CHO. Thy oath by heaven, strong security, sufficiently
refutes the charge.

THE. A wizard or magician must the fellow be, to think
he can first flout me, his father, then by coolness master my
resolve.

HIP. Father, thy part in this doth fill me with amaze ;
wert thou my son and I thy sire, by heaven ! I would have
slain, not let thee off with banishment, hadst thou presumed
to violate my honour.

THE. A just remark ! yet shalt thou not die by the sen-
tence thine own lips pronounce upon thyself; for death,

favour universally, entirely rearranges the passage. It is not improbable
that here and elsewhere in this play, the two editions of it may have
led to some confusion, due to the introduction by ignorant copyists of
inappropriate lines from one edition to the other.

1 There seems to be a play on the double meaning of the word
fftiHppwv, unattainable by any one word in English. To obtain this,
however, the Greek must be rather violently handled. Nauck cuts the
(iordian knot by at once rejecting the passage ; his plan certainly
relieves Euripides of a host of difficulties, but where is it to stop ? Of
many conjectures, Weil's is so ingenious that it is at least worth quoting :
. . . OVK ixovff' «XXo>c Qpovfiv . . . ov KOKUJQ . . . i.e. "she was virtuous,
because she had no chance of being otherwise, whereas I, who had such
a chance, did not put it to a bad use."

104 EURIPIDES. [L. 1047-1129

that cometh in a moment, is an easy end for wretchedness.
Nay, thou shalt be exiled from thy fatherland, [and wander-
ing to a foreign shore drag out a life of misery j for such
are the wages of sin.] l

HIP. Oh! what wilt thou do? Wilt thou banish me,
without so much as waiting for Time's evidence on my case ?

THE. Ay, beyond the sea, beyond the bounds of Atlas,
if I could, so deeply do I hate thee.

HIP. What ! banish me untried, without even testing my
oath, the pledge I offer, or the voice of seers?

THE. This letter here, though it bears no seers' signs,
arraigns thy pledges ; as for birds that fly o'er our heads, a
long farewell to them.

HIP. (aside). Great gods ! why do I not unlock my lips,
seeing that I am ruined by you, the objects of my reverence ?
No, I will not; I should nowise persuade those whom I
ought to, and in vain should break the oath I swore.

THE. Fie upon thee ! that solemn air of thine is more
than I can bear. Begone from thy native land forthwith !

HIP. Whither shall I turn? Ah me! whose friendly
house will take me in, an exile on so grave a charge ?

THE. Seek one who loves to entertain as guests and
partners in his crimes corrupters of men's wives.

HIP. Ah me ! this wounds my heart and brings me nigh
to tears to think that I should appear so vile, and thou
believe me so.

THE. Thy tears and forethought had been more in season
when thou didst presume to outrage thy father's wife.

HIP. O house, I would thou couldst speak for me and
witness if I am so vile !

THE. Dost fly to speechless witnesses? This deed,
though it speaketh not, proves thy guilt clearly.

HIP. Alas ! Would I could stand and face myself, so
should I weep to see the sorrows I endure.

1 Bergk rejects the first, Nauck the second of these lines.

HIPPOLYTUS. 105

THE. Ay, 'tis thy character to honour thyself far more
than reverence thy parents, as thou shouldst.

HIP. Unhappy mother ! son of sorrow ! Heaven keep
all friends of mine from bastard birth !

THE. Ho ! servants, drag him hence ! You heard my
proclamation long ago condemning him to exile.

HIP. Whoso of them doth lay a hand on me shall rue it ;
thyself expel me, if thy spirit move thee, from the land.

THE. I will, unless my word thou straight obey ; no pity
for thy exile steals into my heart. [Exit THESEUS.

HIP. The sentence then, it seems, is passed. Ah, misery !
How well I know the truth herein, but know no way to tell
it ! O daughter of Latona, dearest to me of all deities,
partner, comrade in the chase, far from glorious Athens
must I fly. Farewell, city and land of Erechtheus ; fare-
well, Troezen, most joyous home wherein to pass the spring
of life; 'tis my last sight of thee, farewell ! Come, my com-
rades in this land, young like me, greet me kindly and
escort me forth, for never will ye behold a purer soul, for
all my father's doubts. [Exit HIPPOLYTUS.

CHO. In very deed the thoughts I have about the gods,
whenso they come into my mind, do much to soothe its
grief, but though I cherish secret hopes of some great
guiding will, yet am I at fault when I survey the fate and
doings of the sons of men ; change succeeds to change, and
man's life veers and shifts in endless restlessness. Fortune
grant me this, I pray, at heaven's hand, — a happy lot in life
and a soul from sorrow free ; opinions let me hold not too
precise nor yet too hollow; but, lightly changing my habits to
each morrow as it comes, may I thus attain a life of bliss ! For
now no more is my mind free from doubts, unlooked-for sights
greet my vision ; for lo ! I see the morning star of Athens,
eye of Hellas, driven by his father's fury to another land.
Mourn, ye sands of my native shores, ye oak-groves on the
hills, where with his fleet hounds he would hunt the quarry

IO6 EURIPIDES. [L. 1130-1204

to the death, attending on Dictynna, awful queen. No more
will he mount his car drawn by Venetian steeds, filling the
course round Limna with the prancing1 of his trained horses.
Nevermore in his father's house shall he wake the Muse
that never slept beneath his lute-strings ; no hand will crown
the spots where rests the maiden Latona 'mid the boskage
deep ; nor evermore shall our virgins vie to win thy love,
now thou art banished ; while I with tears at thy unhappy
fate shall endure a lot all undeserved. Ah ! hapless mother,
in vain didst thou bring forth, it seems. I am angered with
the gods ; out upon them ! O ye linked Graces, why are ye
sending from his native land this poor youth, a guiltless
sufferer, far from his home ?

But lo ! I see a servant of Hippolytus hasting with
troubled looks towards the palace.

2ND MES. Ladies, where may I find Theseus, king of the
country ? pray, tell me if ye know ; is he within the palace
here?

CHO. Lo ! himself approaches from the palace.

2ND MES. Theseus, I am the bearer of troublous tidings
to thee and all citizens who dwell in Athens or the bounds
of Trcezen.

THE. How now? hath some strange calamity o'ertaken
these two neighbouring cities ?

2ND MES. In one brief word, Hippolytus is dead. 'Tis
true one slender thread still links him to the light of life.

THE. Who slew him ? Did some husband come to blows
with him, one whose wife, like mine, had suffered brutal
violence ?

2ND MES. He perished through those steeds that drew
his chariot, and through the curses thou didst utter, praying
to thy sire, the ocean-king, to slay thy son.

1 Reading with Reiske, whom Nauck follows, yvfivaSoq 'i-mrov. If
the accus. plural is retained it would seem to mean, " checking with his
foot (i.e. pressed against the chariot-front) his steeds."

HIPPOLYTUS. ID/

THE. Ye gods and king Poseidon, thou hast proved my
parentage by hearkening to my prayer ! Say how he perished ;
how fell the uplifted hand of Justice to smite the villain who
dishonoured me ?

2ND MES. Hard by the wave-beat shore were w'e combing
out his horses' manes, weeping the while, for one had come
to say that Hippolytus was harshly exiled by thee and never-
more would return to set foot in this land. Then came he,
telling the same doleful tale to us upon the beach, and with
him was a countless throng of friends who followed after.
At length he stayed his lamentation and spake : " Why
weakly rave on this wise ? My father's commands must be
obeyed. Ho ! servants, harness my horses to the chariot ;
this is- no longer now city of mine. Thereupon each one of
us bestirred himself, and, ere a man could say 'twas done,
we had the horses standing ready at our master's side.
Then he caught up the reins from the chariot-rail, first
fitting his feet l exactly in the hollows made for them. But
first with outspread palms he called upon the gods, "O
Zeus, now strike me dead, if I have sinned, and let my
father learn how he is wronging me, in death at least, if not
in life." Therewith he seized the whip and lashed each
horse in turn ; while we, close by his chariot, near the reins,
kept up with him along the road that leads direct to Argos
and Epidaurus. And just as we were coming to a desert
spot, a strip of sand beyond the borders of this country,
sloping right to the Saronic gulf, there issued thence a deep
rumbling sound, as it were an earthquake, a fearsome noise,
and the horses reared their heads and pricked their ears,
while we were filled with wild alarm to know whence came

1 It is extremely doubtful what the avralmv ap(3v\ai<?iv here means.
The same phrase occurs in Bacchse, 1. 1,134, where it clearly refers to
sandals or boots ; but such a rendering seems meaningless here, where
Eustathius understands it of the places in which a charioteer put his feet
to secure his balance when driving.

108 EURIPIDES. [L. 1205-1294

the sound ; when, as we gazed toward the wave-beat shore, a
wave tremendous we beheld towering to the skies, so that
from our view the cliffs of Sciron vanished, for it hid the
isthmus and the rock of Asclepius ; then swelling and
frothing with a crest of foam, the sea discharged it toward
the beach where stood the harnessed car, and in the moment
that it broke, that mighty wall of waters, there issued from
the wave a monstrous bull, whose bellowing filled the land
with fearsome echoes, a sight too awful as it seemed to us
who witnessed it. A panic seized the horses there and then,
but our master, to horses' ways quite used, gripped in both
hands his reins, and tying them to his body pulled them
backward as the sailor pulls his oar ; but the horses gnashed
the forged bits between their teeth and bore him wildly on,
regardless of their master's guiding hand or rein or jointed
car. And oft as he would take the guiding rein and steer
for softer ground, showed that bull in front to turn him back
again, maddening his team with terror; but if in their
frantic career they ran towards the rocks, he would draw
nigh the chariot-rail, keeping up with them, until, suddenly
dashing the wheel against a stone, he upset and wrecked
the car ; then was dire confusion, axle-boxes and linch-
pins springing into the air. While he, poor youth, entangled
in the reins was dragged along, bound by a stubborn knot,
his poor head dashed against the rocks, his flesh all torn,
the while he cried out piteously, " Stay, stay, my horses whom
my own hand hath fed at the manger, destroy me not utterly.

0 luckless curse of a father ! Will no one come and save me
for all my virtue?" Now we, though much we longed to help,
were left far behind. At last, I know not how, he broke
loose from the shapely reins that bound him, a faint breath
of life still in him ; but the horses disappeared, and that
portentous bull, among the rocky ground, I know not where.

1 am but a slave in thy house, 'tis true, O king, yet will I
never believe so monstrous a charge against thy son's

HIPPOLYTUS. 109

character, no! not though the whole race of womankind
should hang itself, or one should fill with writing every
pine-tree tablet grown on Ida, sure as I am of his upright-
ness.

CHO. Alas ! new troubles come to plague us, nor is there
any escape from fate and necessity.

THE. My hatred for him who hath thus suffered made
me glad at thy tidings, yet from regard for the gods and him,
because he is my son, I feel neither joy nor sorrow at his
sufferings.

2ND MES. But say, are we to bring the victim hither, or
how are we to fulfil thy wishes ? Bethink thee ; if by me
thou wilt be schooled, thou wilt not harshly treat thy son in
his sad plight.

THE. Bring him hither, that when I see him face to face,
who hath denied having polluted my wife's honour, I may
by words and heaven's visitation convict him.

CHO. Ah ! Cypris, thine the hand that guides the stubborn
hearts of gods and men ; thine, and that attendant boy's,
who, with painted plumage gay, flutters round his victims
on lightning wing. O'er the land and booming deep on
golden pinion borne flits the god of Love, maddening the
heart and beguiling the senses of all whom he attacks,
savage whelps on mountains bred, ocean's monsters,
creatures of this sun-warmed earth, and man ; thine, O
Cypris, thine alone the sovereign power to rule them all.

ART. Hearken, I bid thee, noble son of ^Egeus : lo ! 'tis I,
Latona's child, that speak, I, Artemis. Why, Theseus, to
thy sorrow dost thou rejoice at these tidings, seeing that thou
hast slain thy son most impiously, listening to a charge not
clearly proved, but falsely sworn to by thy wife? though
clearly has the curse therefrom upon thee fallen. Why
dost thou not for very shame hide beneath the dark places
of the earth, or change thy human life and soar on wings to
escape this tribulation ? 'Mongst men of honour thou hast

1 10 EURIPIDES. [L. 1295-1384

now no share in life. Hearken, Theseus; I will put thy
wretched case. Yet will it naught avail thee, if I do, but
vex thy heart; still with this intent I came, to show thy
son's pure heart, — that he may die with honour, — as well
the frenzy, and, in a sense, the nobleness of thy wife;
for she was cruelly stung with a passion for thy son by
that goddess whom all we, that joy in virgin purity, detest.
And though she strove to conquer love by resolution, yet
by no fault of hers she fell, thanks to her nurse's strategy,
who did reveal her malady unto thy son under oath. But
he would none of her counsels, as indeed was right, nor yet,
when thou didst revile him, would he break the oath he
swore, from piety. She meantime, fearful of being found
out, wrote a lying letter, destroying by guile thy son, but
yet persuading thee.

THE. Woe is me !

ART. Doth my story wound thee, Theseus? ' Be still
awhile ; hear what follows, so wilt thou have more cause to
groan. Dost remember those three prayers thy father granted
thee, fraught with certain issue? 'Tis one of these thou
hast misused, unnatural wretch, against thy son, instead of
aiming it at an enemy. Thy sea-god sire, 'tis true, for all
his kind intent, hath granted that boon he was compelled, by
reason of his promise, to grant. But thou alike in his eyes
and in mine hast shewn thy evil heart, in that thou hast
forestalled all proof or voice prophetic, hast made no
inquiry, nor taken time for consideration, but with undue
haste cursed thy son even to the death.

THE. Perdition seize me ! Queen revered !

ART. An awful deed was thine, but still even for this thou
mayest obtain pardon ; for it was Cypris that would have it
so, sating- the fury of her soul. For this is law amongst us
gods ; none of us will thwart his neighbour's will, but ever
we stand aloof. For be well assured, did I not fear Zeus,
never would I have incurred the bitter shame of handing

HIPPOLYTUS.

over to death a man of all his kind to me most dear. As
for thy sin, first thy ignorance absolves thee from its villainy,
next thy wife, who is dead, was lavish in her use of con-
vincing arguments to influence thy mind. On thee in chief
this storm of woe hath burst, yet is it some grief to me as
well ; for when the righteous die, there is no joy in heaven,
albeit we try to destroy the wicked, house and home.

CHO. Lo ! where he comes, this hapless youth, his fair
young flesh and auburn locks most shamefully handled.
Unhappy house ! what twofold sorrow doth o'ertake its halls,
through heaven's ordinance !

HIP. Ah ! ah ! woe is me ! foully undone by an impious
father's impious imprecation ! Undone, undone ! woe is
me ! Through my head shoot fearful pains ; my brain
throbs convulsively. Stop, let me rest my worn-out frame.
Oh, oh ! Accursed steeds, that mine own hand did feed, ye
have been my ruin and my death. O by the gods, good
sirs, I beseech ye, softly touch my wounded limbs. Who
stands there at my right side ? Lift me tenderly ; with slow
and even step conduct a poor wretch cursed by his mistaken
sire. Great Zeus, dost thou see this? Me thy reverent
worshipper, me who left all men behind in purity, plunged
thus into yawning Hades 'neath the earth, reft of life ; in
vain the toils I have endured through my piety towards
mankind. Ah me ! ah me ! O the thrill of anguish shoot-
ing through me ! Set me down, poor wretch I am ; come
Death to set me free ! Kill me, end my sufferings.1 O for
a sword two-edged to hack my flesh, and close this mortal
life ! Ill-fated curse of my father ! the crimes of bloody
kinsmen.2 ancestors of old, now pass their boundaries and
tarry not, and upon me are they come all guiltless as I am ;
ah ! why ? Alas, alas ! what can I say ? How from my life

1 Nauck's comment on these closing lines of H.'s speech is, " restitui
vix poterxmt." Any translation of them can only be tentative.
8 Such as Tantalus and Pelops, Atreus and Thyestes.

112 EURIPIDES. [L. 1385-1446

get rid of this relentless agony ? O . that the stern Death-
god, night's black visitant, would give my sufferings rest !

ART. Poor sufferer ! cruel the fate that links thee to it !
Thy noble soul hath been thy ruin.

HIP. Ah ! the fragrance from my goddess wafted ! Even
in my agony I feel thee near and find relief; she is here in
this very place, my goddess Artemis.

ART. She is, poor sufferer ! the goddess thou hast loved
the best.

HIP. Dost see me, mistress mine ? dost see my present
suffering ?

ART. I see thee, but mine eyes no tear may weep.

HIP. Thou hast none now to lead the hunt or tend thy
fane.

ART. None now ; yet e'en in death I love thee still.

HIP. None to groom thy steeds, or guard thy shrines.

ART. 'Twas Cypris, mistress of iniquity, devised this evil.

HIP. Ah me ! now know I the goddess who destroyed me.

ART. She was jealous of her slighted honour, vexed at
thy chaste life.

HIP. Ah ! then I see her single hand hath struck down
three of us.

ART. Thy sire and thee, and last thy father's wife.

HIP. My sire's ill-luck as well as mine I mourn.

ART. He was deceived by a goddess's design.

HIP. Woe is thee, my father, in this sad mischance !

THE. My son, I am a ruined man; life has no joys
for me.

HIP. For this mistake I mourn thee rather than myself.

THE. O that I had died for thee, my son !

HIP. Ah ! those fatal gifts thy sire Poseidon gave.

THE. Would God these lips had never uttered that
prayer !

HIP. Why not ? thou wouldst in any case have slain me
in thy fury then.

HIPPOLYTUS. 113

THE. Yes ; Heaven had perverted my power to think.

HIP. O that the race of men could bring a curse upon
the gods !

ART. Enough ! for though thou pass to gloom beneath
the earth, the wrath of Cypris shall not, at her will, fall on
'(hee unrequited, because thou hadst a noble righteous soul.1
For I with mine own hand will with these unerring shafts
avenge me on another,2 who is her votary, dearest to her of
all the sons of men. And to thee, poor sufferer, for thy
anguish now will I grant high honours in the city of Trcezen ;
for thee shall maids unwed before their marriage cut off
their hair, thy harvest through the long roll of time of
countless bitter tears. Yea, and for ever shall the virgin
choir hymn thy sad memory, nor shall Phaedra's love for
thee fall into oblivion and pass away unnoticed. But thou,
O son of old ^Egeus, take thy son in thine arms, draw him
close to thee, for unwittingly thou slewest him, and men may
well commit an error when gods put it in their way. And
thee Hippolytus, I admonish ; hate not thy sire, for in this
death thou dost but meet thy destined fate. And now fare-
well ! 'tis not for me to gaze upon the dead, or pollute my
sight with death-scenes, and e'en now I see thee nigh that
evil moment.3 \Exit ARTEMIS.

HIP. Farewell, blest virgin queen ! leave me now ! How
easily4 thou resignest our long friendship ! I am reconciled
with my father at thy desire, yea, for ever before I would
obey thy bidding. Ah me ! the darkness is settling even
now upon my eyes. Take me, father, in thy arms, lift
me up.

THE. Woe is me, my son ! what art thou doing to me thy
hapless sire !

1 Nauck encloses this line in brackets. a Adonis.

3 Cobet rejects this line.

4 Surely this line is a gloss ! The sentiment is singularly out of place
in the mouth of an ardent votary, whom the goddess has just comfoiteJ.

I

1 14 EURIPIDES.

HIP. I am a broken man ; yes, I see the gates that close
upon the dead.

THE. Canst leave me thus with murder on my soul !

HIP. No, no ; I set thee free from this bloodguiltiness.

THE. What sayest thou? dost absolve me from blood-
shed?

HIP. Artemis, the archer-queen, is my witness that I do.

THE. My own dear child, how generous dost thou show
thyself to thy father !

HIP. Farewell, dear father ! a long farewell to thee !

THE. O that holy, noble soul of thine !

HIP. Pray to have children such as me born in lawful
wedlock.

THE. O leave me not, my son ; endure awhile.

HIP. 'Tis finished, my endurance; I die, father; quickly
cover my face with a mantle.

THE. O glorious Athens, realm of Pallas, what a splendid
hero ye have lost ! Ah me, ah me ! How oft shall I
remember thy evil work, O Cypris !

CHO. On all our citizens hath come this universal sorrow,
unforeseen. Now shall the copious tear gush forth, for sad
news about great men takes more than usual hold upon the
heart.

ALCESTIS.

DRAMATIS PERSONS.

APOLLO.

DEATH.

CHORUS OF OLD MEN OF PHER/E.

MAID.

ALCESTIS.

ATTENDANT.

ADMETUS.

EUMELUS.

HERACLES.

PHERES.

SCENE. — Before Admetus'* palace in Pherse,

ALCESTIS.

APO. Halls of Admetus, wherein I steeled my heart to be
content with a servant's board, god though I was. Zeus
was to blame ; he slew my son Asclepius, piercing his bosom
with a thunderbolt; whereat I was enraged and smote his
Cyclopes, forgers of the heavenly fire ; so my sire in recom-
pense for this forced me to become a slave in a mortal's
home. Then came I to this land and kept a stranger's flocks,
and to this day have been the saviour of this house. For
in Pheres' son I found a man as holy as myself, and him I
saved from death by cheating Destiny, for they promised me,
those goddesses of fate, that Admetus should escape the im-
pending doom, if he found a substitute for the powers
below. So he went through all his list of friends, made trial
of each, his father and the aged mother that bare him,1 but
none he found save his wife alone that was willing to die for
him and forego the light of life ; she now within the house
is upheld in his arms, gasping out her life ; for to-day is she
doomed to die and pass from life to death. But I, for fear
pollution overtake me in the house, am leaving the shelter
of this roof I love so well, for already I see Death hard by,
the priest of souls departed, who is on his way to lead her
to the halls of Hades ; true to time he comes, watching this
day that calls her to her doom.

DEA. Ha ! What dost thou at this house ? why is it
thou art ranging here, Phoebus ? Once again thou wrongest
me, circumscribing and limiting the honours of the nether

1 Dindorf has good reason for suspecting this line here.

Il8 EURIPIDES. [L. 32-89

world. Wert thou not content to hinder the death of
Admetus, by thy knavish cunning baulking Destiny? but
now again hast thou armed thee with thy bow and art keep-
ing guard o'er her, this daughter of Pelias, who undertook,
of her free will, to die for her lord and set him free.

APO. Never fear ; I have, be sure, justice and fair pleas
to urge.

DEA. What has that bow to do, if thou hast justice on
thy side?

APO. Tis my habit ever to carry it.

DEA. Ay, and to help this house more than is right.

APO. The reason is, I cannot bear a friend's distress.

DEA. Wilt rob me of this second corpse likewise ?

APO. Come ! I did not take the other from thee by violence.

DEA. Then how is it he lives above the earth and not
beneath ?

APO. He gave his wife instead, her whom now thou art
come to fetch.

DEA. Yea, and I will bear her hence to the nether
world.

APO. Take her and go, for I do not suppose I can per-
suade thee.

DEA. To slay my rightful victim ? Why, that is my ap-
pointed task.

APO. Nay, but to lay thy deadly hand on those who soon
would die.

DEA. I see thy drift, thy eager plea.

APO. Is it then possible that Alcestis should attain old
age?

DEA. It is not possible ; I too, methinks, find a pleasure
in my rights.

Thou canst not anyhow take more than one life.

DEA. When young lives die I reap a higher honour.

APO. Should she die old, a sumptuous funeral will she
have.

ALCESTIS. I 19

DEA. Phoebus, the law thou layest down is all in favour
of the rich.

APO. What mean'st thou ? art so wise, and I never knew it ?

DEA. Those who have wealth would buy the chance of
their dying old.

APO. It seems then thou wilt not grant me this favour.

DEA. Not I ; my customs well thou knowest.

APO. That I do, customs men detest and gods abhor.

DEA. Thou canst not realise every lawless wish.

APO. Mark me, thou shalt have a check for all thy exces-
sive fierceness; such a hero shall there come to Pheres'
halls, by Eurystheus sent to fetch a team of steeds from the
wintry world of Thrace ; he, a guest awhile in these halls of
Admetus, will wrest this woman from thee by sheer force.
So wilt thou get no thanks from me but yet wilt do this all
the same, and earn my hatred too.1

DEA. Thou wilt not gain thy purpose any the more for
all thy many words ; that woman shall to Hades' halls go
down, I tell thee. Lo! I am going for her, that with the
sword I may begin my rites, for he whose hair this sword
doth hallow is sacred to the gods below.

SEMICHO. I.2 What means this silence in front of the
palace ? why is the house of Admetus stricken dumb ?

SEMICHO. II. Not one friend near to say if we must mourn
our queen as dead, or if she liveth yet and sees the sun,
Alcestis, daughter of Pelias, by me and all esteemed the
best of wives to her husband.

SEMICHO. I. Doth any of you hear a groan, or sound
of hands that smite together, or the voice of lamentation,
telling all is over and done ? Yet is there no servant sta-

' Dindorf rejects these two lines.

2 la the arrangement of the following dialogue between the divided
chorus I have mainly been guided by Paley, though I believe the last
three lines assigned by him to a Semichorus are said as the two bands
are re -uniting preparatory to chanting their ode.

'120 EURIPIDES. [L. 90-161

tioned about the gate, no, not one. O come, thou saving
god, to smooth the swelling waves of woe ! l

SEMICHO. II. Surely, were she dead, they would not be
so still.

SEMICHO. I. Maybe her corpse is not yet from the house
borne forth.

SEMICHO. IL Whence that inference ? I am not so san-
guine. What gives thee confidence ?

SEMICHO. I. How could Admetus let his noble wife go
unattended to the grave ?

SEMICHO. II. Before the gates I see no lustral water from
the spring, as custom doth ordain should be at the gates of
the dead, no shorn lock lies on the threshold, which, as thou
knowest, falls in mourning for the dead, no choir of maidens
smites its youthful 2 palms together.

SEMICHO. I. And yet this is the appointed day.

SEMICHO. II. What meanest thou by this?

SEMICHO. I. The day appointed for the journey to the
world below.

SEMICHO. II. Thou hast touched me to the heart, e'en to
the soul.

CHO. Whoso from his youth up has been accounted
virtuous, needs must weep to see the good suddenly cut off.
'Tis done ; no single spot in all the world remains whither
one might steer a course, either to Lycia3 or to the parched
abodes4 of Ammon to release the hapless lady's soul; on
comes death with step abrupt, nor know I to whom I
should go of all who at the gods' altars offer sacrifice. Only
the son of Phoebus,5 if he yet saw this light of day — Ah ! then

1 /leraiet'fuoe. Liddell and Scott " between two waves of misery,"
i.e. causing a short lull.

2 Dindorf restores vtaXtjg for vfoXaia, a doubtful word, apparently
not used as an adjective. Cf. Liddell and Scott.

3 To a shrine of Apollo.

4 The temple of Zeus Ammon in the deserts of Libya.

5 Asclepius, who had been slain by Zeus, for raising the dead to life.

ALCESTIS. 121

might she have left the dark abode and gates of Hades
and have come again, for he would raise the dead to life,
till that the thunderbolt's forked flame, hurled by Zeus>
smote him. But now what further hope of life can I welcome
to me ? Our lords have ere this done all they could ; on
every altar streams the blood of abundant sacrifice ; yet our
sorrows find no cure.

Lo ! from the house cometh a handmaid weeping ; what
shall I be told hath chanced ? Grief may well be pardoned,
if aught happeneth to one's master ; yet I fain would learn
whether our lady still is living or haply is no more.

MAID. Alive, yet dead thou may'st call her.

CHO. Why, how can the same person be alive, yet dead?

MAID. She is sinking even now, and at her last gasp.

CHO. My poor master ! how sad thy lot to lose so good
a wife !

MAID. He did not know his loss, until the blow fell on
him.

CHO. Is there then no more a hope of saving her ?

MAID. None ; the fated day comes on so fast.

CHO. Are then the fitting rites already taking place o'er
her body ?

MAID. Death's garniture is ready, wherewith her lord will
bury her.

CHO. Well let her know, though die she must, her fame
ranks far above any other wife's beneath the sun.

MAID. Far above ! of course it does ; who will gainsay it ?
What must the woman be who hath surpassed her? For
how could any wife have shown a clearer regard for her
lord than by offering in his stead to die ? Thus much the
whole city knows right well ; but thou shalt hear with wonder
what she did within the house. For when she knew the
fatal day was come, she washed her fair white skin with water
from the stream, then from her cedar chests drew forth
vesture and ornaments and robed herself becomingly ; next,

122 EURIPIDES. [L. 162-237

standing before the altar-hearth, she prayed, "Mistress
mine, behold ! I pass beneath the earth ; to thee in sup-
pliant wise will I my latest prayer address ; be mother to my
orphans, and to my boy unite a loving bride, to my
daughter a noble husband. Let them not die, as I, their
mother, perish now, untimely in their youth, but let them
live their glad lives out, happy in their native land." To
every altar in Admetus' halls she went and crowned them
and prayed, plucking from myrtle boughs their foliage, with
never a tear or groan, nor did her coming trouble change
the colour of her comely face. Anon into her bridal bower
she burst, and then her tears brake forth and thus she cried,
" O couch, whereon I loosed my maiden state for the man
in whose cause I die, farewell ! no hate I feel for thee ; for
me alone hast thou undone, dying as I die from fear of
betraying thee and my lord. Some other wife will make
thee hers, more blest maybe than me, but not more chaste."
And she fell upon her knees and kissed it, till with her
gushing tears the whole bed was wet. At last, when she
had had her fill of weeping, she tore herself from the bed
and hurried headlong forth, and oft as she was leaving the
chamber turned she back and cast herself once more upon
the couch ; while her children were weeping as they clung
to their mother's robes ; but she took them each in turn in
her arms and kissed them fondly, as a dying mother might.
And all the servants in the house fell a-crying in sorrow for
their mistress ; but she held out her hand to each, nor was
there one so mean but she gave him a word and took his
answer back. Such are the sorrows in the halls of Admetus.
Dying he had died once for all, but by avoiding death he
hath a legacy of grief that he will ne'er forget.

CHO. Doubtless Admetus sorrows in this calamity, if he
must lose so good a wife.

MAID. Ah yes ! he weeps, holding in his arms his darling
wife, and prays her not to leave him, impossible request !

ALCESTIS. 123

for she is worn and wasted with illness, and lies ' exhausted,
a sad burden in his arms. Still, though her breath comes
short and scant, she yearns to gaze yet on the sunshine, for
nevermore, but now the last and latest time her eye shall see
his radiant orb.2 But I will go, thy presence to announce,
for 'tis not all who have the goodwill to stand by their
masters with kindly hearts in adversity. But thou of old
hast been my master's friend.

CHO. O Zeus, what way out of these sorrows can be found ?
how can we loose the bonds of fate that bind our lord ?

Comes some one forth? Am I at once to cut my hair,
and cast the sable robe about me?

Too plainly, ay too plainly, friends ; still let us to heaven
pray ; for the gods' power is very great.

O king Paean, devise for Admetus some means of escape
from his sorrows.

Yes, yes, contrive it ; for thou in days gone by didst find
salvation for him, so now be thou a saviour from the toils of
death and stay bloodthirsty Hades.

Woe ! woe ! alas ! Thou son of Pheres, woe ! Ah, thy
fate in losing thy wife !

Is not this enough to make thee slay thyself, ah ! more than
cause enough to tie the noose aloft and fit it to the neck ?

Yea, for to-day wilt thou witness the death of her that was
not merely dear, but dearest of the dear.

Look, look ! she cometh even now, her husband with her,
from the house.

Cry aloud and wail, O land of Pherae, wail for the best of
women, as with sickness worn she passes 'neath the earth to
Hades, lord below.

1 Elmsley was the first to detect that a line has probably been lost
here, containing some finite verb to complete the sense, which I have
endeavoured to give by introducing "lies " into my translation.

2 These two lines, of frequent recurrence in Greek tragedy, are here
rejected by Nauck.

124 EURIPIDES. [L. 238-313

Never, never will I say that marriage brings more joy
than grief, as I conjecture by the past and witness these
misfortunes of our king, for he "when widowed of this noble
wife will for the future lead a life that is no life at all.

ALC. O sun-god, lamp of day ! O scudding clouds that
dance along the sky !

ADM. He sees us both with anguish bowed, albeit guiltless
of any crime against the gods, for the which thy death is due.

ALC. O earth, O sheltering roof, and ye my maiden
chambers in my native land lolcos !

ADM. Lift thyself, unhappy wife, forsake me not ; entreat
the mighty gods to pity us.

ALC. I see the two-oared skiff, I see it; and Charon,
death's ferryman, his hand upon the boatman's pole, is
calling me e'en now, " Why lingerest thou ? Hasten. Thou
art keeping me." Thus in his eager haste he hurries me.

ADM. Ah me ! bitter to me is this voyage thou speakest
of. Unhappy wife, what woes are ours !

ALC. One draws me, draws me hence, seest thou not ?
to the courts of death, winged Hades glaring from beneath
his dark brows. What wilt thou with me? Unhand me.
On what a journey am I setting out, most wretched woman I !

ADM. Bitter journey to thy friends, yet most of all to me
and to thy babes, the partners in this sorrow.

ALC. Hands off ! hands off at once !

Lay me down, I cannot stand. Hades standeth near .
and with its gloom steals night upon my eyes.

O my children, my children, ye have no mother now.
Fare ye well, my babes, live on beneath the light !

ADM. Woe is me ! this is a message of sorrow to me,
worse than aught that death can do. Steel not thy heart to
leave me, I implore, by heaven, by thy babes whom thou
wilt make orphans ; nay, raise thyself, have courage. For
if thou die I can no longer live ; my life, my death are in
thy hands ; thy love is what I worship*

ALCESTIS. 125

ALC. Admetus, lo ! thou seest how it is with me ; to thee
I fain would tell my wishes ere I die. Thee I set before
myself, and instead of living have ensured thy life, and so 1
die, though I need not have died for thee, but might have
taken for my husband whom I would of the Thessalians,
and have had a home blest with royal power ; reft of thee,
with my children orphans, I cared not to live, nor, though
crowned with youth's fair gifts, wherein I used to joy, did I
grudge them. Yet the father that begat thee, the mother
that bare thee, gave thee up, though they had reached a time
of life when to die were well, so saving thee their child, and
winning noble death. For thou wert their only son, nor
had they any hope, when thou wert dead, of other offspring.
And I should have lived and thou the remnant of our days,
nor wouldst thou have wept thy wife's loss, nor have had an
orphan family. But some god hath caused these things to
be even as they are. Enough ! Remember thou the grati-
tude due to me for this ; yea, for I shall never ask thee for
an adequate return, for naught is prized more highly than
our life ; but just is my request, as thou thyself must say,
since thou no less than I dost love these children, if so be
thou think'st aright. Be content to let them rule my house,
and do not marry a new wife to be a stepmother to these
children, for she from jealousy, if so she be a woman worse
than me, will stretch out her hand against the children of
our union. Then do not this, I do beseech thee.1 For the
stepmother that succeeds, hateth children of a former match,
cruel as the viper's are her tender mercies. A son, 'tis true,
hath in his sire a tower of strength, [to whom he speaks and
has his answer back] ; 2 but thou, my daughter, how shall thy
maidenhood be passed in honour ? What shall thy experience

1 Nauck suspects this line, and Hirzel thinks the two next are
spurious.

2 Paley encloses this line in brackets as suspicious. Nauck omits it
in his text.

126 EURIPIDES. [L. 314-385

be of thy father's wife ? She may fasten on thee some foul
report in thy youthful bloom, and frustrate thy marriage.
Never shall thy mother lead thee to the bridal bed, nor by
her presence in thy travail hearten thee, my child, when a
mother's kindness triumphs over all. No, for I must die ;
and lo ! this evil cometh to me not to-morrow nor yet on
the third day of the month, but in a moment shall I be
counted among the souls that are no more. Fare ye well,
be happy; and thon, husband, canst boast thou hadst a
peerless wife, and you, children, that you had such an one
for mother.

CHO. Take heart ; I do not hesitate to answer for him ;
he will perform all this, unless his mind should go astray.

ADM. It shall be so, fear not, it shall ; alive thou wert
the only wife I had, and dead shalt thou, none else, be
called mine ; no Thessalian maid shall ever take thy place
and call me lord ; not though she spring from lineage high
nor though besides she be the fairest of her sex. Of children
I have enough ; god grant I may in them be blessed ! for in
thee has it been otherwise. No year-long mourning will I
keep for thee, but all my life through, lady: loathing the
mother that bare me, and hating my father, for they were
friends in word but not in deed. But thou didst give thy
dearest for my life and save it. May I not then mourn to
lose a wife like thee ? And I will put an end to revelry, to
social gatherings o'er the wine, forego the festal crown and
music which once reigned in my halls. For nevermore will
I touch the lyre nor lift my soul in song to the Libyan flute,
for thou hast taken with thee all my joy in life. But in my
bed thy figure shall be laid full length, by cunning artists
fashioned ; thereon will I throw myself and, folding my
arms about thee, call upon thy name, and think I hold my
dear wife in my embrace, although I do not ; chill comfort
this, no doubt, but still I shall relieve my soul of its sad
weight ; and thou wilt come to me in dreams and gladden

ALCESTIS. 127

me. For sweet it is to see our friends, come they when
they will, e'en by night.

Had I the tongue, the tuneful voice of Orpheus to charm
Demeter's daughter or her husband by my lay and bring
thee back from Hades, I had gone down, nor Pluto's hound,
no'r Charon, ferryman of souls, whose hand is on the oar,
had held me back, till to the light I had restored thee
alive. At least do thou await me there, against the hour I
die, prepare a home for me to be my true wife still. For in
this same cedar coffin I will bid these children lay me with
thee and stretch my limbs by thine ; for never even in
death may I be severed from thee, alone found faithful of
them all.

CHO. Lo ! I too will share with thee thy mourning for
her, friend with friend ; for this is but her due.

ALC. My children, ye with your own ears have heard
your father's promise, that he will never wed another wife
to set her over you, nor e'er dishonour me.

ADM. Yea, so I promise now, and accomplish it I will.

ALC. On these conditions receive the children from my
hand.

ADM. I receive them, dear pledges by a dear hand given.

ALC. Take thou my place and be a mother to these
babes.

ADM. Sore will be their need when they are reft of thee.

ALC. O my children, I am passing to that world below,
when my life was needed most.

ADM. Ah me, what can I do bereft of thee ?

ALC. Thy sorrow Time will soothe; 'tis the dead who
are as naught.

ADM. Take me, O take me, I beseech, with thee 'neath the
earth.

ALC. Enough that I in thy stead am dying.

ADM. O Destiny ! of what a wife art thou despoiling me !

ALC. Lo ! the darkness deepens on my drooping eyes.

123 EURIPIDES. [L. 386-467

ADM. Lost indeed am I, if thou, dear wife, wilt really
leave me.

ALC. Thou mayst speak of me as naught, as one whose
life is o'er.

ADM. Lift up thy face, leave not thy children.

ALC. 'Tis not my own free will ; O my babes, farewell !

ADM. Look, look on them but once.

ALC. My end is come.

ADM. What mean'st thou ? art leaving us ?

ALC. Farewell !

ADM. Lost ! lost ! woe is me !

CHO. She is gone, the wife of Admetus is no more.

EUM. O my hard fate ! My mother has passed to the
realms below ; she lives no more, dear father, 'neath the
sun. Alas for her ! she leaves us ere her time and to me
bequeaths an orphan's life. Behold that staring eye, those
nerveless hands ! Hear me, mother, hear me, I implore !
'tis I who call thee now, I thy tender chick, printing my
kisses on thy lips.

ADM. She cannot hear, she cannot see; a heavy blow
hath fortune dealt us, you children and me.

EUM. O father, I am but a child to have my loving mother
leave me here alone ; O cruel my fate, alas ! and thine, my
sister, sharer in my cup of woe. Woe to thee, father ! in
vain, in vain didst thou take a wife and hast not reached the
goal of eld with her ; for she is gone before, and now that
thou art dead, my mother, our house is all undone.

CHO. Admetus, these misfortunes thou must bear. Thou
art by no means the first nor yet shalt be the last of men
to lose a wife of worth ; know this, we all of us are debtors
unto death.

ADM. I understand ; this is no sudden flight of ill hither ;
I was ware of it and long have pined. But since I am to
carry the dead forth to her burial, stay here with me and to
that inexorable god in Hades raise your antiphone. While

ALCESTIS. 129

to all Thessalians in my realm I do proclaim a general
mourning for this lady, with hair shorn off and robes of sable
hue ; all ye who harness steeds for cars, or single horses ride,
cut off their manes with the sharp steel. Hush'd be every
pipe, silent every lyre throughout the city till twelve full
moons are past ; for never again shall I bury one whom I
love more, no ! nor one more loyal to me ; honour from me
is her due, for she for me hath died, she and she alone.

{Exeunt ADMETUS and EUMELUS, with the other

children.

CHO. Daughter of Pelias, be thine a happy life in that
sunless home in Hades' halls ! Let Hades know, that
swarthy god, and that old man who sits to row and steer
alike at his death-ferry, that he hath carried o'er the lake of
Acheron in his two-oared skiff a woman peerless amidst her
sex. Oft of thee the Muses' votaries shall sing on the seven-
stringed mountain shell and in hymns that need no harp,1
glorifying thee, oft as the season in his cycle cometh round
at Sparta in that Carnean 2 month when all night long the
moon sails high o'erhead, yea, and in splendid Athens, happy
town. So glorious a theme has thy death bequeathed to
tuneful bards. Would it were in my power and range to
bring thee to the light from the chambers of Hades and the
streams of Cocytus with the oar that sweeps yon nether
flood ! For thou, and thou alone, most dear of women,
hadst the courage to redeem thy husband from Hades in
exchange for thy own life. Light lie the earth above thee,
lady ! And if ever thy lord take to him a new wife, I vow
he will earn my hatred and thy children's too. His mother
had no heart to plunge into the darkness of the tomb for her

1 i.e. Epic poetry.

* A reference to the Carnean festival, held in honour of Apollo, by
the Dorians of Peloponnesus, especially by the Spartans, for nine
successive days in the month Metageitnion, i.e. April, hence called the
Carnean month.

K

130 EURIPIDES. [L. 468— 529

son, no ! nor his aged sire.1 Their own child they had not
the courage to rescue, the wretches ! albeit they were grey-
headed. But thou in thy youth and beauty hast died for thy
lord and gone thy way. O be it mine to have for partner
such a loving wife I for this lot is rare in life. Surely she
should be my help-meet all my life and never cause one tear.

HER. Mine hosts, dwellers on this Phenean soil ! say,
shall I find Admetus in the house?

CHO. The son of Pheres is within, Heracles. Tell me
what need is bringing thee to the Thessalian land, to visit
this city of the Pheraans ?

HEC. I am performing a labour for Tirynthian Eurystheus.

CHO. And whither art thou journeying? on what wander-
ing art thou forced to go ?

HER. To fetch the chariot-steeds of Thracian Diomedes.

CHO. How canst thou ? art a stranger to the ways of thy
host ?

HER. I am ; for never yet have I gone to the land of the
Bistones.

CHO. Thou canst not master his horses without fighting.

HER. Still I cannot refuse these labours.

CHO. Then shait thou slay them and return, or thyself be
slain and stay there.

HER. It will not be the first hard course that I have run.

CHO. And what will be thy gain, suppose thou master
their lord ?

HER. The steeds will I drive away to the Tirynthian king.

CHO. No easy task to bit their jaws.

HER. Easy enough, unless their nostrils vomit fire.

CHO. With ravening jaws they rend the limbs of men.

HER. Thou speakest of the food of mountain beasts, not
of horses.

CHO. Their mangers blood-bedabbled thou shalt see.

1 A line is here wanting in the MSS.,but its absence does not destroy
the sense.

ALCESTIS. 131

HER. Whose son doth he who feeds them boast to be?

CHO. Ares' son, king of the golden targe of Thrace.

HER. This toil again is but a piece of my ill-luck; hard it
ever is and still is growing steeper, if I with Ares' own-
begotten sons must fight, first with Lycaon, next with
Cycnus, while now I am bound on this third contest to en-
gage the horses and their master. Yet shall no man ever
see Alcmena's son trembling at his foemen's prowess.

CHO. See where Admetus, lord of this land, comes in
person from the palace forth.

ADM. Hail ! son of Zeus, from Perseus sprung.

HER. Joy to thee also, Admetus, king of Thessaly.

ADM. Would there were ! yet thy kindly heart I know full
well.

HER. Why dost thou appear with head shorn thus in
mourning?

ADM. To-day I am to bury one who is dead.

HER. Heaven avert calamity from thy children !

ADM. The children I have begotten are alive within my
house.

HER. Thy father maybe is gone ; well, he was ripe to go.

ADM. No, Heracles, he lives ; my mother too.

HER. It cannot be thy wife is dead, thy Alcestis ?

ADM. I can a twofold tale tell about her.

HER. Dost mean that she is dead, or living still ?

ADM. She lives, yet lives no more ; that is my grief.

HER. I am no wiser yet ; thy words are riddles to me.

ADM. Knowest thou not the doom she must undergo ?

HER. I know she did submit to die in thy stead.

ADM. How then is she still alive, if so she promised ?

HER. Ah ! weep not thy wife before the day, put that off
till then.

ADM. The doomed is dead ; the dead no more exists.

HER. Men count to be and not to be something apart.

ADM. Thy verdict this, O Heracles, mine another.

132 EURIPIDES. [L. 530 — 607

HER. Why weepest then ? which of thy dear ones is the
dead?

ADM. Tis a woman ; I spoke of a woman just now.

HER. A stranger, or one of thine own kin ?

ADM. A stranger, yet in another sense related to my house.

HER. How then came she by her death in house of thine ?

Adm. Her father dead, she lived here as an orphan.

HER. Ah ! would I had found thee free from grief,
Admetus !

ADM. With what intent dost thou devise this speech?

HER. I will seek some other friendly hearth.

ADM. Never, O prince 1 Heaven forefend such dire dis-
grace !

HER. A guest is a burden to sorrowing friends, if come
he should.

ADM. The dead are dead. Come in.

HER. To feast in a friend's house of sorrow is shameful.

ADM. The guest chambers lie apart, whereto we will con-
duct thee.

HER. Let me go; ten thousandfold shall be my thanks
to thee.

ADM. Thou must not go to any other hearth. (To a
Servant.) Go before, open the guest-rooms that face not
these chambers, and bid my stewards see there is plenty of
food ; then shut the doors that lead into the courtyard ; for
'tis not seemly that guests when at their meat should hear
the voice of weeping or be made sad. \Exit HERACLES.

CHO. What doest thou ? With such calamity before thee,
hast thou the heart, Admetus, to welcome visitors ? What
means this folly?

ADM. Well, and if I had driven him from my house and
city when he came to be my guest, wouldst thou have
praised me more ? No indeed ! for my calamity would have
been no whit less, while I should have been more churlish.
And this would have been another woe to add to mine, that

ALCESTIS. 133

my house should be called no friend to guests. Yea, and I
find him myself the best of hosts whene'er to Argos' thirsty
land I come.

CHO. Why then didst thou conceal thy present misfor-
tune, if, as thy own lips declare, it was a friend that came ?

ADM. He would never have entered my house, had he
known aught of my distress. Maybe there are who think
me but a fool for acting thus, and these will blame me ; but
my halls have never learnt to drive away or treat with scorn
my guests.

CHO. O home of hospitality, thrown open by thy lord to
all now and ever ! In thee it was that Pythian Apollo, the
sweet harper, deigned to make his home, and in thy halls
was content to lead a shepherd's life, piping o'er the sloping
downs shepherd's madrigals to thy flocks. And spotted
lynxes couched amid his sheep in joy to hear his melody,
and the lions' tawny troop left the glen of Othrys and came ;
came too the dappled fawn on nimble foot from beyond the
crested pines and frisked about thy lyre, O Phcebus, for very
joy at thy gladsome minstrelsy. And so it is thy lord
inhabits a home rich in countless flocks by Brebe's lovely
mere, bounding his tilled corn-land and his level pastures
with the clime of the Molossi near the sun's dark stable,
and holding sway as far as the harbourless strand of
the ^Egean 'neath Pelion's shadow. Now too hath he
opened wide his house and welcomed a guest although his
eye is wet with tears in mourning for his wife so dear but
lately dead within his halls ; yea, for noble birth to noble
feeling is inclined.1 And in the good completest wisdom
dwells ; and at my heart sits the bold belief that heaven's
servant will be blesed.

ADM. Men of Pheras, kindly gathered here, lo ! even now
my servants are bearing the corpse with all its trappings

1 In Nauck's text the word aya/tat is here inserted, but it is omitted
by Paley.

134 EURIPIDES. [L. 608 — 686

shoulder-high to the funeral pyre for burial ; do ye, as
custom bids, salute the dead on her last journey starting.

CHO. Look ! I see thy father advancing with aged step,
and servants too bearing in their arms adornment for thy
wife, offerings for the dead.

PHE. My son, I come to share thy sorrow, for thou hast
lost a noble, peerless wife ; that no man will deny. Yet
must thou needs bear this blow, hard though it be. Accept
this garniture, and let it go beneath the earth, for rightly is
her body honoured, since she died to save thy life, my son,
and gave me back my child, suffering me not to lose thee
and pine away in an old age of sorrow. Thus by the
generous deed she dared, hath she made her life a noble
example for all her sex. Farewell to thee, who hast saved
this son of mine and raised me up when falling ; be thine a
happy lot even in Hades' halls ! Such marriages I declare
are gain to man, else to wed is not worth while.

ADM. Thou hast come uncalled by me to this burial,
nor do I count thy presence as a friendly act. Never shall
she be clad in any garniture of thine, nor l in her burial will
she need aught of thine. Thou shouldst have shewn thy sym-
pathy at the time my doom was sealed. But thou didst
stand aloof and let another die, though thou wert old, the
victim young ; shalt thou then mourn the dead ? Methinks
thou wert no real sire of mine nor was she my true mother
\vho calls herself and is called so, but2 1 was sprung of slave's
blood and privily substituted at thy wife's breast. Brought
to the test thou hast shewn thy nature ; I cannot think I
am thy child by birth.

By heaven, thou art the very pattern of cowards, who at
thy age, on the borderland of life, wouldst not, nay ! couldst
not find the heart to die for thy own son; but ye, my
parents, left to this stranger, whom I henceforth shall

1 Nauck brackets this line as spurious.

2 Nauck refuses to credit Euripides with lines 638 and 639,

ALCESTIS. 135

justly hold e'en as mother and as father too, and none but
her. And yet 'twas a noble exploit to achieve, to die to
save thy son, and in any case the remnant of thy time to live
was but short ; and l I and she would have lived the days
that were to be, nor had I lost my wife and mourned my
evil fate. Moreover thou hast had all treatment that a
happy man should have ; in princely pomp thy youth was
spent, thou hadst a son, myself, to be the heir of this thy
home, so thou hadst no fear of dying childless and leaving
thy house desolate, for strangers to pillage. Nor yet canst
thou say I did dishonour thy old age and give thee up to
die, seeing I have ever been to thee most dutiful, and for
this thou, my sire, and she, my mother, have made me this
return. Go then, get other sons to tend thy closing years,
prepare thy body for the grave, and lay out thy corpse. For
I will never bury thee with hand of mine ; for I am dead for
all thou didst for me ; but if I found a saviour in another
and still live, his son I say I am, and his fond nurse in old
age will be. 'Tis vain, I see, the old man's prayer for death,
his plaints at age and life's long weariness. For if death do
but draw near, not one doth wish to die ; old age no more
they count so burdensome.

CHO. Peace ! enough the present sorrow, O my son; goad
not thy father's soul to fury.

PHE. Child, whom think' st thou art reviling ? some Lydian
or Phrygian bought with thy money ? Art not aware I am
a freeborn Thessalian, son of a Thessalian sire ? Thou art
too insolent ; yet from hence thou shalt not go as thou
earnest, after shooting out thy braggart tongue at me. To
rule my house I begat and bred thee up ; I own no debt of
dying in thy stead ; this is not the law that I received from
my ancestors that fathers should die for children, nor is it a
custom in Hellas. For weal or woe, thy life must be thine
own ; whate'er was due from me to thee, thou hast. Dominion
1 Lines 651 and 652 are bracketed by Nauck as spurious.

136 EURIPIDES. [L. 687 — 751

wide is thine, and acres broad I will leave to thee, for from
my father did I inherit them. How, pray, have I wronged
thee ? of what am I robbing thee ? Die not thou for me,
nor I for thee. Thy joy is in the light ; think'st thou thy
sire's is not ? By Heaven ! 'tis a weary while, I trow, that
time beneath the earth, and life, though short, is sweet.
Thou at least didst struggle hard to 'scape thy death, lost to
shame, and by her death dost live beyond thy destined term.
Dost thou then speak of cowardice in me, thou craven heart !
no match for thy wife, who hath died for thee, her fine young
lord ? A clever scheme hast thou devised to stave off death for
ever, if thou canst persuade each new wife to die instead of
thee ; and dost thou then taunt thy friends, who will not do the
like, coward as thou art thyself? Hold thy peace ; reflect,
if thou dost love thy life so well, this love by all is shared ;
yet if thou wilt speak ill of me, thyself shalt hear a full and
truthful list of thy own crimes.

CHO. Too long that list both now and heretofore ; cease,
father, to revile thy son.

ADM. Say on, for I have said my say ; but if it vexes thee
to hear the truth, thou shouldst not have sinned against me.

PHE. My sin had been the deeper, had I died for thee.

ADM. What ! is it all one for young or old to die ?

PHE. To live one life, not twain, is all our due.

ADM. Outlive then Zeus himself !

PHE. Dost curse thy parents, though unharmed by them ?

ADM. Yea, for I see thy heart is set on length of days.

PHE. Is it not to save thyself thou art carrying to the
tomb this corpse ?

ADM. A proof of thy cowardice, thou craven heart !
, PHE. At any rate her death was not due to me ; this thou
canst not say.

ADM. Ah ! mayst thou some day come to need my aid !

PHE. Woo many wives, that there may be the more
to die.

ALQESTIS. 137

ADM. That is thy reproach, for thou didst refuse to die.

PHE. Dear is the light of the sun-god, dear to all.

ADM. A coward soul is thirfe, not to be reckoned among
men.

PHE. No laughing now for thee at bearing forth my aged
corpse.

ADM. Thy death will surely be a death of shame, come
when it will.

PHE. Once dead I little reck of foul report.

ADM. Alas ! how void of shame the old can be !

PHE. Hers was no want of shame; 'twas want of sense
in her that thou didst find.

ADM. Begone ! and leave me to bury my dead.

PHE. I go; bury thy victim, thyself her murderer. Her
kinsmen yet will call for an account. Else surely has Acastus
ceased to be a man, if he avenge not on thee his sister's
blood.

ADM. Perdition seize thee and that wife of thine ! grow
old, as ye deserve, childless, though your son yet lives, for
ye shall never enter the same abode with me ; nay ! were it
needful I should disown thy paternal hearth by heralds'
voice, I had disowned it. (Exit PHERES). Now, since we
must bear our present woe, let us go and lay the dead upon
the pyre. [Exit ADMETUS.

CHO. Woe, woe for thee ! Alas, for thy hardihood !
Noble spirit, good beyond compare, farewell ! May Hermes
in the nether world, and Hades, too, give thee a kindly
welcome ! and if even in that other life the good are
rewarded, mayst thou have thy share therein and take thy
seat by Hades' bride !

ATT. Many the guests ere now from every corner of the
world I have seen come to the halls of Admetus, for whom
I have spread the board, but never yet have I welcomed to
this hearth a guest so shameless as this ; a man who, in the
first place, though he saw my master's grief, yet entered and

138 EURIPIDES. [L. 752— 821

presumed to pass the gates, then took what cheer we had
in no sober spirit, though he knew our sorrow ; no ! was
there aught we failed to bring ? he called for it. Next in his
hands he took a goblet of ivy-wood and drank the pure
juice of the black grape, till the mounting fumes of wine
heated him, and he crowned his head with myrtle-sprays,
howling discordantly, while two-fold strains were there to
hear, for he would sing without a thought for the troubles
in Admetus' halls, while we servants mourned our mistress,
though we did not let the stranger see our streaming eyes,
for such was the bidding of Admetus. So now here am I
entertaining as a guest some miscreant thief maybe, or
robber, while she is gone forth from the house, nor did I
follow her nor stretch my hand towards her bier, in mourning
for my lady, who, to me and all her servants, was a mother,
for she would save us from countless trouble, appeasing her
husband's angry mood. Have I not good cause then to
loathe this guest who cometh in our hour of woe ?

HER. Ho ! sirrah, why that solemn, thoughtful look ?
'Tis not the way for servants to scowl on guests, but with
courteous soul to welcome them. But thou, seeing a friend
of thy master arrive, receivest him with sullen, lowering
brow, though 'tis but a stranger that is the object of thy
mourning. Come hither, that thou too mayst learn more
wisdom. Dost know the nature of this mortal state? I
trow not; how shouldst thou? Well, lend an ear to me.
Death is the common debt of man ; no mortal really knows
if he will live to see the morrow's light ; for Fortune's issues
are not in our ken, beyond the teacher's rule they lie, no art
can master them. Hearken then to this and learn of me,
be merry, drink thy cup, and count the present day thine
own, the rest to Fortune yield. And to Cypris too, sweetest
of the gods by far to man, thy tribute pay, for kindly is her
mood. Let be those other cares, and heed my counsel if
thou think'st I speak aright ; methinks I do. Come, banish

ALCESTIS. 1 39

this excessive grief, and drink a cup with me when thou
hast passed beyond these doors and wreathed thy brow ;
and I feel sure the plash of wine within the cup will bring
thee to a better haven from this crabbed mood, this cabined
state of mind.1 Mortals we are, and mortals' thoughts should
have ; for all they who frown and scowl do miss, — leastways
I think so, — the true life and get themselves misfortune.

ATT. I know all that, but our present state has little
claim on revelry or laughter.

HER. The dead was a stranger woman ; grieve not to
excess ; for the rulers of thy house are living.

ATT. How, living ? Thou knowest not the trouble in the
house.

HER. I do, unless thy master did in aught deceive me.

ATT. Too hospitable is he.

HER. Was I to miss good cheer because a stranger had
died?

ATT. A stranger surely ! quite a stranger she !

HER. Is there some trouble that he withheld from me ?

ATT. Farewell, go thy way ! my master's troubles are my
care.

HER. This word of thine heralds not a grief for strangers
felt.

ATT. Had it been, the sight of thy merriment had not
grieved me so.

HER.2 Can it be mine host hath strangely wronged me?

ATT. Thou earnest at no proper time for our house to
welcome thee, for sorrow is come upon us ; lo ! thou seest
our shorn heads and robes of sable hue.

HER. Who is it that is dead ? Is it a child or his aged
sire that hat hath passed away ?

ATT. Nay, sir guest, 'tis Admetus* wife that is no more.

1 Reading <f>pivioi>, which Nauck, however, doubts.

2 There is some doubt whether the next four lines are genuine.
Nauck brackets them.

140 EURIPIDES. [L. 822 — 892

HER. What sayest thou ? and did ye then in spite of that
admit me to your cheer ?

ATT. Yes, for his regard would not let him send thee
from his door.

HER. Unhappy husband, what a wife hast thou lost !

ATT. We are all undone, not she alone.

HER. I knew it when I saw his streaming eye, shorn head
and downcast look, yet did he persuade me, saying it
was a stranger he was bearing to burial. So I did constrain
myself and passed his gates and sat drinking in his hos-
pitable halls, when he was suffering thus. And have I
wreathed my head and do I revel still ? But— thou to hold
thy peace when, such a crushing sorrow lay upon the house !
Where is he burying her? Whither shall I go to find
her?

ATT. Beside the road that leadeth straight to Larissa,
shalt thou see her carved tomb outside the suburb.

HER. O heart, O soul, both sufferers oft, now show the
mettle of that son Tirynthian Alcmena, daughter of Elec-
tryon, bare to Zeus. For I must save this woman, dead but
now, setting Alcestis once again within this house, and to
Admetus this kind service render. So I will go and watch
for death the black-robed monarch of the dead, and him
methinks I shall find as he drinks of the blood-offering near
the tomb. And if, from ambush rushing, once I catch
and fold him in my arms' embrace, none shall ever wrest
him thence with smarting ribs, ere he give up the woman unto
me. But should I fail to find my prey and he come not to
the clotted blood, I will go to the sunless home of those
beneath the earth, to Persephone and her king, and make to
them my prayer, sure that I shall bring Alcestis up again,
to place her in the hands of him, my host, who welcomed me
to his house nor drove me thence, though fortune smote him
hard, but this his noble spirit strove to hide out of regard
for me. What host more kind than him in Thessaly ? or in

ALCESTIS. 141

the homes of Hellas? Wherefore shall he never say his
generous deeds were lavished on a worthless wretch.

{Exeunt HERACLES and Servant.

ADM. Ah me ! I loathe this entering in, and loathe to see
my widowed home. Woe, woe is me ! Whither shall I go ?
Where stand ? what say ? or what suppress ? Would God
that I were dead ! Surely in an evil hour my mother gave
me birth. The dead I envy, and would fain be as they, and
long to dwell within their courts. No joy to me to see
the light, no joy to tread the earth ; such a hostage death
hath reft me of and handed o'er to Hades.

CHO. Move forward, go within the shelter of thy house.

ADM. Woe is me !

CHO. Thy sufferings claim these cries of woe.

ADE. Ah me !

CHO. Through anguish hast thou gone, full well I know.

ADM. Alas ! alas !

CHO. Thou wilt not help the dead one whit.

ADM. O misery !

CHO. Nevermore to see thy dear wife face to face is grief
indeed.

ADM. Thy words have probed the sore place in my heart.
What greater grief can come to man than the loss of a faithful
wife ? Would I had never married or shared with her my
home ! I envy those 'mongst men who have nor wife nor
child. Theirs is but one life ; to grieve for that is no exces-
sive burden ; bat to see children fall ill and bridal beds
emptied by death's ravages is too much to bear, when one
might go through life without wife or child.

CHO. A fate we cannot cope with is come upon us.

ADM. Woe is me !

CHO. But thou to sorrow settest no limit.

ADM. Ah ! ah !

CHO. 'Tis hard to bear, but still—

ADM. Woe is me !

142 EURIPIDES. [L. 893— 9c°4

CHO. Thou art not the first to lose —

ADM. O ! woe is me !

CHO. A wife ; misfortune takes a different shape for every
man she plagues.

ADM O the weary sorrow ! O the grief for dear ones
dead and gone ! Why didst thou hinder me from plung-
ing into the gaping grave, there to lay me down and die with
her, my peerless bride? Then would Hades for that one
have gotten these two faithful souls at once, crossing the
nether lake together.

CHO. I had a kinsman once, within whose home died his
only son, worthy of a father's tears ; yet in spite of that he
bore his grief resignedly, childless though he was, his hair
already turning grey, himself far on in years, upon life's
downward track.

ADM. O house of mine, how can I enter thee? how can I
live here, now that fortune turns against me ? Ah me ! How
wide the gulf 'twixt then and now ! Then with torches cut
from Pelion's pines, with marriage hymns I entered in, hold-
ing my dear wife's hand ; and at our back a crowd of friends
with cheerful cries, singing the happy lot of my dead wife
and me, calling us a noble pair made one, children both of
highborn lineage; but now the voice of woe instead of
wedding hymns, and robes of black instead of snowy white
usher me into my house to my deserted couch.

CHO Hard upon prosperous fortune came this sorrow to
thee, a stranger to adversity ; yet hast thou saved thy soul
alive. Thy wife is dead and gone; her love she leaves with
thee. What new thing is here? Death ere now from many
a man hath torn a wife.

ADM. My friends, I count my dead wife's lot more blest
than mine, for all it seems not so ; for nevermore can sorrow
touch her for ever ; all her toil is over, and glorious is her
fame. While I, who had no right to live, have passed the
bounds of fate only to live a life of misery; I know it now.

ALCESTIS. 143

For how shall I endure to enter this my house? Whom
shall I address, by whom be answered back, to find l aught
joyful in my entering in? Whither shall I turn? Within,
the desolation will drive me forth, whensoe'er I see my
widowed couch, the seat whereon she sat, the floor all dusty
in the house, and my babes falling at my knees with piteous
tears for their mother, while my servants mourn the good
mistress their house hath lost. These are the sorrows in my
home, while abroad the marriages among Thessalians and
the thronging crowds of women will drive me mad,2 for I can
never bear to gaze upon the compeers of my wife. And
whoso is my foe will taunt me thus, "Behold him living in
his shame, a wretch who quailed at death himself, but of his
coward heart gave up his wedded wife instead, and escaped
from Hades ; doth he deem himself a man after that ? And
he loathes his parents, though himself refused to die." Such
ill report shall I to my evils add. What profit, then, my
friends, for me to live, in fame and fortune ruined.

CHO. Myself have traced the Muses' path, have soared
amid the stars, have laid my hold on many a theme, and
yet have found naught stronger than necessity, no spell
inscribed on Thracian tablets written there by Orpheus, the
sweet singer, no ! nor aught among the simples culled by
Phoebus for the toiling race of men, and given to Asclepius'
sons." The only goddess she, whose altar or whose image
man cannot approach ; victims she heedeth not. O come not
to me, dread goddess, in greater might than heretofore in
my career. Even Zeus requires thy aid to bring to pass
whatso he wills. Thou too it is that by sheer force dost
bend the steel among the Chalybes ; nor is there any pity in
thy relentless nature.

This is the goddess that hath gripped thee too in chains
thou canst not 'scape ; yet steel thy heart, for all thy weeping
ne'er will bring to light again the dead from the realms

1 Nauck brackets this line as spurious. 2 Or, " drive me away.''

144 EURIPIDES. [L. 985—1071

below. Even sons of gods perish in darkness l in the hour
of death. We loved her while she was with us, we love her
still though dead; noblest of her sex was she, the wife
thou tookest to thy bed. Her tomb let none regard as the
graves of those who die and are no more , but let her
have honours equal with the gods, revered by every traveller ;
and many a one will cross the road and read this verse aloud,
" This is she that died in days gone by to save her lord ;
now is she a spirit blest. Hail, lady revered; be kind to
us ! " Such glad greeting shall she have. But see, Admetus !
yonder, I believe, comes Alcmena's son toward thy hearth.

HER. Admetus, to a friend we should speak freely, not
hold our peace and harbour in our hearts complaints. I
came to thee in thy hour of sorrow and claimed the right to
prove myself thy friend, but thou wouldst not tell me that
she, thy wife, lay stretched in death ; but didst make me
a welcome guest in thy halls, as though thy whole concern
was centred on a stranger's loss. So I crowned my head
and poured drink-offerings to the gods in that thy house
of sorrow. Wherefore I do blame thee for this treatment of
me, yet would not grieve thee in thy trouble. So now the
reason I have turned my steps and come hither again, I
will tell. This lady take and keep for me until I come
bringing hither the steeds of Thrace, after I have .slain
the lord of the Bistones. But should I fare as fare I fain
would not, I give her to thee to serve within thy halls.
With no small toil she came into my hands. 'Twas thus :
I found folk just appointing an open contest for athletes,
well worth a struggle, and there I won her as a prize and
brought her thence ; now those who were successful in the
lighter contests had horses for their prize, but those who
conquered in severer feats, in boxing and wrestling, won
herds of oxen, and this woman was to be added thereto;
with such a chance 'twere shame indeed to pass so fair
or ' ' the sons of gods by mortal women. "

ALCESTIS. 145

a guerdon by. So thou must take her in thy charge, as
I said; for not by theft but honest toil I won the prize
I bring; and maybe e'en thou in time wilt thank me.

ADM. 'Twas not because of any slight or unkind thought
of thee that I concealed my wife's sad fate; but this were
adding grief to grief if thou hadst gone from hence to
the halls of some other friend; and it sufficed that I
should mourn my sorrow. But I do beseech thee, prince,
if 'tis possible, bid some other Thessalian, one who hath not
suffered as I have, keep the maiden for thee, — and thou hast
many friends in Pherse ; remind me not of my misfortune.
For I could not see her in my house and stay my tears.
Oh! add not new affliction to my stricken heart, for sure
by sorrow am I bowed enough. And where within my
halls could a tender maiden live? for such she is, as her
dress and vesture show. Is she to dwell where men consort ?
Then how shall she retain her maiden purity, if 'mid our
youths she come and go ? O Heracles, it is no easy task to
check a young man's fancy, and I am anxious for thy sake.
Or am I to take her to my dead wife's bower and care
for her ? How can I bring her there to fill the other's bed ?
Twofold reproach I fear ; first, some fellow-townsman may
taunt me with betraying my benefactress in eagerness to
wed a new young bride ; next, there is my dead wife, whom
I should much regard, for she doth merit all my reverence.
Thou too, lady, whosoe'er thou art, believe me, art the very
counterfeit presentment of Alcestis, the picture of her form,
ah me ! O take this maiden, I conjure thee, from my
sight; slay me not already slain. For in her I seem
once more to see my wife ; and my heart is darkly troubled,
and the fountains of my eyes are loosed. Ah, woe is me !
Now do I taste the bitterness of this my grief.

CHO. Indeed I cannot call thy fortune blest, yet heaven's
gift must thou endure, whoe'er the god that comes to
bring it.

146 EURIPIDES. [L. 1072-1117

HER. Would I had the power to bring thy wife up to the
light from the halls of death, and confer this kindness on
thee!

ADM. Right well I know thou wouldst. But what of
that ? The dead can never come to life again.

HER. Do not exceed the mark, but bear thy grief with
moderation.

ADM. 'Tis easier to advise than to suffer and endure.

HER. Yet what thy gain, if thou for aye wilt mourn ?

ADM. I too know that myself, but some strange yearning
leads me on.

HER. Love for the dead compels a tear.

ADM. Her death was mine, more than any words of mine
can tell.

HER. Thou hast lost a noble wife ; who shall gainsay
it?

ADM. Life henceforth hath lost all charm for me.

HER. Time will soothe the smart ; as yet thy grief is
young.

ADM. "Time!" use that word, if death and time are
one.

HER. A new wife and a longing for a fresh marriage will
stay thy sorrow.

ADM. Peace ! What words are thine ? I ne'er of thee
had thought it.

HER. What ! wilt never wedr but preserve thy widowed
slate ?

ADM. There is no woman living that shall share my
couch.

HER. Dost think that this will help the dead at all ?

ADM. My reverence she deserves, where'er she is.

HER. I praise thee, yes \ but still thou bringest on thyself
the charge of folly.

ADM. So that thou never call'st me bridegroom, praise
me if thou wilt.

ALCESTIS. 147

HER. I praise thee for thy loyalty to thy wife.

ADM. Come death ! if ever I betray her, dead though
she be.

HER. Well, take this maiden to the shelter of thy noble
house.

ADM. Spare me, I entreat thee by Zeus, thy sire.

HER. Be sure, if thou refuse, 'twill be a sad mistake.

ADM. If I comply, remorse will gnaw my heart.

HER. Yield; for in god's good time maybe thou wilt
give me thanks.

ADM. Ah! would thou hadst never won her in the
games !

HER. Yet thou too sharest in my victory.

ADM. True ; still let this maiden go away.

HER. Go she shall, if go she must ; but first see if this is
needful.

ADM. I needs must, else wilt thou be wroth with me.

HER. I have a reason good to press the matter thus.

ADM. Have thy way then. Yet know well thy deed I
disapprove.

HER. A day will come that thou wilt praise me; only
yield.

ADM. (to his servants]. Take her in, if I needs must
give her welcome in my house.

HER. To thy servants will I not hand her over.

ADM. Conduct her then thyself within, if so thou thinkest
good.

HER. Nay, but into thy hands shall mine consign her.

ADM. I will not touch her, though she is free to go within
my halls.

HER. To thy hand, and thine alone I her entrust.

ADM. Prince, against my will thou dost constrain me to
this deed.

HER. Boldly stretch out thy hand and touch the stranger
maid.

148 EURIPIDES. [L. 1118-1163

ADM. There, then, I stretch it out as toward the Gorgon's
.•d head.1

HER. Hast hold of her?

ADM. I have.

HER. (remwcs the veil). So; keep her safely then, and
in days to come thou wilt confess the son of Zeus proved
himself a noble guest. Look well at her, if haply to thy
gaze she have a semblance of thy wife ; and now that thou
art blest, cease from sorrowing.

ADM. Great gods, what shall I say? a marvel past all
hope is here ! My wife, my own true wife I see, or is some
mocking rapture sent by heaven to drive me mad ?

HER. No, no ; 'tis thy own wife thou seest here.

ADM. Beware it be not a phantom from that nether
world.

HER. No necromancer was this guest whom thou didst
welcome.

ADM. Do I behold my wife, her whom I buried ?

HER. Be well assured thereof; still I marvel not thou
dost distrust thy luck.

ADM. May I touch her, may I speak to her as my living
wife ?

HER. Speak to her. For thou hast all thy heart':
desire.

ADM. O form and features of my well-loved wife ! past
all hope I hold thee, never expecting to see thee again.

HER. So thou dost; may no jealous god rise against
thee!

ADM. O noble son of almighty Zeus, good luck to thee !
may the father that begat thee hold thee in his keeping ;
for thou and none else hast raised my fallen fortunes. How

1 Lobeck, whom Nauck follows, to avoid the elision of the final i of
the dative singular, conjectured Topyoi/ a>c raparn/uw)' " as if beheading

a Gordon," i.e, with averted gaze, thus gaining very considerable point.
I .lev notices the clever suggestion, without however adopting it.

ALCESTIS. 149

didst thou bring her from the world below to this light
of day?

HER. By encountering the god1 who had her in his
power.

ADM. Where didst thou engage with Death? tell me
this.

HER. Just by the tomb I from my ambush sprang and
caught him in my grip.

ADM. But why thus speechless stands my wife ?

HLR. Tis not lawful yet for thee to hear her speak, ere
she be purified from the gods below and the third day be
come. So lead her in ; and hereafter, e'en as now, be just
and kind to guests, Adoietus. Now farewell ! for I must
go to perform my appointed task for the lordly son of
Sthenelus.

ADM. Abide with us and be our welcome guest.

HER. Another time ; now must I use all haste.

ADM. Good luck to thee ! and mayst thou come again !
To the citizens and all my realm I make this proclama-
tion, that they institute dances in honour of the glad event,
and make the altars steam with sacrifice, and offer prayers ;
for now have I moored my bark of life in a happier haven
than before, and so will own myself a happy man.

CHO. Many are the shapes that fortune takes, and oft the
gods bring things to pass beyond our expectation. That
w.iich we deemed so sure is not fulfilled, while for that we
never thought would be, God finds out a way. And such
hath been the issue in the present case.

Reading Joi^r ry nfi*. Naock has

regarding the Death-god as supreme over ail deities, lot sorely this is
incorrect. Jacobs, seeing the difficulty, conjectured Mjvrip*r. But the
translation in the text seems a possible one, and makes the

HERACLEID.E.

DRAMATIS PERSONS

lOLAUS.
COPREUS.

DEMOPHON.

MACARIA.

SERVANT (OF HYLLUS).

ALCMENA.

MESSENGER.

EURYSTHEUS.

CHORUS OF AGED ATHENIANS.

SCENE. —Before the altar of Zeus at Marathon.

HERACLEID^E.

IOL. I ho'd this true, and long have held : Nature hath
made one man upright for his neighbours' good, while
another hath a disposition wholly given over to gain, useless
alike to the state and difficult to have dealings with, but for
himself the best of men ; and this I know, not from mere
hearsay. I, for instance, from pure regard and reverence
for my kith and kin, though I might have lived at peace
in Argos, alone of all my race shared with Heracles his
labours, while be was yet with us, and now that he dwells in
heaven, I keep these his children safe beneath my wing,
though myself I need protection. For when their father
passed from earth away, Eurystheus would first of all have
slain us, but we escaped. And though our home is lost,
our life was saved. But in exile we wander from city to
city, ever forced to roam. For, added to our former wrongs,
Eurystheus thought it fit to put this further outrage upon
us : wheresoe'er he heard that we were settling, thither
would he send heralds demanding our surrender and driving
us from thence, holding1 out this threat, that Argos is no
mean city to make a friend or foe, and furthermore point-
ing to his own prosperity. So they, seeing how weak my
means, and these little ones left without a father, bow to his
superior might and drive us from their land. And I share
the exile of these children, and help them bear their evil
lot by my sympathy, loth to betray them, lest someone

Reading TrportiVwr (Canter's emendation of 7rpor</*uh' MS.).

154 EURIPIDES. [L. 29-93

say, " Look you ! now that the children's sire is dead,
lolaus no more protects them, kinsman though he is." Not
one corner left us in the whole of Hellas, we are come to
Marathon and its neighbouring land, and here we sit as sup-
pliants at the altars of the gods, and pray their aid ; for 'tis
said two sons of Theseus dwell upon these plains, the lot of
their inheritance, scions of Pandion's stock, related to these
children ; this the reason we have come on this our way
to the borders of glorious Athens. To lead the flight two
aged guides are we ; my care is centred on these boys, while
she, I mean Alcmena, clasps her son's daughter in her arms,
and bears her for safety within this shrine, for we shrink from
letting tender maidens l come anigh the crowd or stand as
suppliants at the altar. Now Hyllus and the elder of his
brethren are seeking some place for us to find a refuge, if
we are driven by force from this land. O children,
children, come hither ! hold unto my robe ; for lo ! I see a
herald coming towards us from Eurystheus, by whom we
are persecuted, wanderers excluded from every land. A
curse on thee and him that sent thee, hateful wretch ! for
that same tongue of thine hath oft announced its master's
evil hests to these children's noble sire as well.

COP. Doubtless thy folly lets thee think this is a good
position to have taken up, and that thou art come to a city
that will help thee. No ! there is none that will prefer thy
feeble arm to the might of Eurystheus. Begone ! why take
this trouble? Thou must arise and go to Argos, where
awaits thee death by stoning.

IOL. Not so, for the god's altar will protect me, and this
land of freedom, wherein we have set foot.

COP. Wilt give me the trouble of laying hands on thee ?

IOL. By force at least shall thou never drag these children
hence.

1 Tradition only assigned one daughter, Macaria, to the hero,
is to be understood quite generally.

HERACLEID^:.

COP. That shalt thou soon learn ; it seems thou wert a
poor prophet, after all, in this.

[COPREUS here seizes the children.

IOL. This shall never happen while I live.

COP. Begone! for I will take them hence, for all thy
refusals, for I hold ' that they belong to Eurystheus, as they
do indeed.

IOL. Help, ye who long nave had your home in Athens !
we suppliants at Zeus' altar in your market-place are being
haled by force away, our sacred wreaths defiled, shame to
your city, to the gods dishonour.

CHO. Hark, hark ! What cry is this that rises near the
altar? At once explain the nature of the trouble.

IOL. See this aged frame hurled in its feebleness upon the
ground ! Woe is me !

CHO. Who threw thee down thus pitiably ?

IOL. Behold the man who flouts your gods, kind sirs, and
tries by force to drag me from my seat before the altar of
Zeus.

CHO. From what land, old stranger, art thou come to
this confederate state of four cities ? or have ye left Euboea's
cliffs, and, with the oar that sweeps the sea, put in here from
across the firth ? 2

IOL. Sirs, no island life I lead, but from Mycenae to thy
land I come.

CHO. What do they call thee, aged sir, those folk in
Mycenae ?

IOL. Maybe ye have heard of lolaus, the comrade of
Heracles, for he was not unknown to fame.

CHO. Yea, I have heard of him in bygone days ; but tell
me, whose are the tender boys thou bearest in thine arms ?

IOL. These, sirs, are the sons of Heracles, come as sup.
pliants to you and your city.

1 Elmsley, followed by Nauck, reads

2 i.e. the Euripus between Euboea and Attica.

156 EURIPIDES. [L. 94-162

CHO. What is their quest ? Are they anxious, tell me, to
obtain an audience of the state ?

IOL. That so they may escape surrender, nor be torn with
violence from thy altars, and brought to Argos.

COP. Nay, this will nowise satisfy thy masters, who o'er
thee have a right, and so have tracked thee hither.

CHO. Stranger, 'tis but right we should reverence the
gods' suppliants, suffering none with violent hand to make
them1 leave the altars, for that will dread Justice ne'er
permit.

COP. Do thou then drive these subjects of Eurystheus
forth, and this hand of mine shall abstain from violence.

CHO. 'Twere impious for the state to neglect the sup-
pliant stranger's prayer.

COP. Yet 'tis well to keep clear of troubles, by adopting
that counsel, which is the wiser.

CHO. Thou then shouldst have told the monarch of
this land thy errand before being so bold, out of regard to
his country's freedom, instead of trying to drag strangers by
force from the altars of the gods.

COP. Who is monarch of this land and state ?

CHO. Demophon, son of gallant Theseus.

COP. Surely it were most to the purpose to discuss this
matter somewhat with him ; all else has been said in vain.

CHO. Lo! here he comes in person, in hot haste, and
Acamas his brother, to hear what thou hast to say.

DEM. Since thou for all thy years hast outstripped
younger men in coming to the rescue to this altar of Zeus,
do thou tell me what hath chanced to bring this crowd
together.

CHO. There sit the sons of Heracles as suppliants, having
wreathed the altar, as thou seest, O king, and with them is
lolaus, trusty comrade of their sire.

1 Reading trfyi (Musgrave) for MS. <re. Schmidt, rad'
" thee (i.e. Copreus) to transgj-ess against."

HERACLEID.E. 157

DEM. Why should this event have called for cries of
pain?

CHO. (turning to COPREUS). This fellow caused the up-
roar by trying to drag them forcibly from this altar, and he
tripped up the old man, till my tears for pity flowed.

DEM. Hellenic dress and fashion in his robes doth he no
doubt adopt, but deeds like these betray the barbarian.
Thou, sirrah, tell me straight the country whence thou
earnest thither.

COP. An Argive I ; since that thou seek'st to know.
Who sent me, and the object of my coming, will I freely
tell. Eurystheus, king of Mycenae, sends me hither to fetch
these back ; and I have come, sir stranger, with just grounds
in plenty, alike for speech or action. An Argive myself,
Argives I come to fetch, taking with me these runaways
from my native city, on whom the doom of death was passed
by our laws there ; and we have a right, since we rule our city
independently, to ratify its sentences. And though they
have come as suppliants to the altars of numerous others,
we have taken our stand on these same arguments, and no
one has ventured to bring upon himself evils of his own
getting. But they have come hither, either because they
perceived some folly in thee, or, in their perplexity, staking
all on one risky throw to win or lose ; for surely they do not
suppose that thou, if so thou hast thy senses still, and only
thou, in a*l the breadth of Hellas they have traversed, wilt
pity their foolish troubles. Come now, put argument against
argument : what will be thy gain, suppose thou admit them
to thy land, or let us take them hence? From us these
benefits are thine to win : this city can secure as friends
Argos, with its far-reaching arm, and Eurystheus' might
complete ; whilst if thou lend an ear to their piteous plead-
ing and grow soft, the matter must result in trial of arms ;
for be sure we shall not yield this struggle without appealing
to the sword. What pretext wilt thou urge? Of what

158 EURIPIDES. [L. 163-224

domains art them robbed that thou shouldst take and wage
war with the Tirynthian Argives ? What kind of allies art
thou aiding ? For l whom will they have fallen whom thou
buriest? Surely thou wilt get an evil name from the
citizens, if for the sake of an old man with one foot in the
grave, a mere shadow I may say, and for these children,
thou wilt plunge into troublous waters. The best2 thou
canst say is, that thou wilt find in them a hope, and nothing
more ; and yet this falls far short of the present need ; for
these would be but a poor match for Argives even when
fully armed and in their prime, if haply that raises thy spirits;
moreover, the time 'twixt now and then is long, wherein ye
may be blotted out. Nay, hearken to me ; give me naught,
but let me take mine own, and so gain Mycenae ; but for-
bear to act now, as is your Athenian way, and take the
weaker side, when it is in thy power to choose the stronger
as thy friends.

CHO. Who can decide a cause or ascertain its merits, till
from both sides he clearly learn what they would say ?

IOL. O king, in thy land I start with this advantage, the
right to hear and speak in turn, and none, ere that, will
drive me hence as elsewhere they would. 'Twixt us and
him is naught in common, for we no longer have aught to
do with Argos since that decree was passed, but we are
exiles from our native land ; how then can he justly drag us
back as subjects of Mycenae,3 seeing that they have banished
us ? For we are strangers. Or do ye claim that every exile
from Argos is exiled from the bounds of Hellas? Not

1 Nauck brackets this sentence as spurious.

z i.e. a hope that they will do the same for you in your hour of need.
Jebb suggested (Cf. Jerram) 'Epui TO Xqiarov' t\7ri(T tvpi]0ei \tovov " I will
put your case in the best light : you will find hope and nothing more. "
A most tempting elucidation of a very puzzling passage.

3 Mycenae and Argos are used indiscrimately, in the same way that
Euripides elsewhere speaks of Greeks as Argives, Achaeans, Hellenes,
etc., without distinction.

HERACLEID/E. 1 59

from Athens surely ; for ne'er will she for fear of Argos drive
the children of Heracles from her land. Here is no Trachis,
not at all ; no ! nor that Achaean town, whence thou, defying
justice, but boasting of the might of Argos in the very words
thou now art using, didst drive the suppliants from their
station at the altar. If this shall be, and they thy words
approve, why then I trow this is no more Athens, the home
of freedom. Nay, but I know the temper and nature of
these citizens ; they would rather die, for honour ranks
before mere life with men of worth. Enough of Athens ! for
excessive praise is apt to breed disgust ; and oft ere now I
have myself felt vexed at praise that knows no bounds. But
to thee, as ruler of this land, I fain would show the reason
why thou art bound to save these children. Pittheus was
the son of Pelops ; from him sprung ^Ethra, and from her
Theseus thy sire was born. And now will I trace back
these children's lineage for thee. Heracles was son of Zeus
and Alcmena ; Alcmena sprang from Pelops' daughter ;
therefore thy father and their father would be the sons of
first cousins. Thus then art thou to them related, O
Demophon, but thy just debt to them beyond the ties of
kinship do I now declare to thee ; for I assert, in days gone
by, I was with Theseus on the ship, as their father's squire,
when they went to fetch that girdle fraught with death ;
yea, and from Hades' murky dungeons did Heracles bring
thy father up ; as all Hellas doth attest. [ * Wherefore in
return they crave this boon of thee, that they be not sur-
rendered up nor torn by force from the altars of thy gods
and cast forth from the land. For this were shame on thee,
and 2 hurtful likewise in thy state, should suppliants, exiles,
kith and kin of thine, be haled away by force. For pity's

1 The following six lines have been condemned by the joint verdict
of Paley, Person, and Dindorf.

2 This line as it stands has a syllable too many for the metre. Her-
mann omits re. Wecklein inserts ry and omits KOKOV.

160 EURIPIDES. [L. 225-277

sake ! cast one glance at them.] I do entreat thee, laying my
suppliant bough upon thee, by thy hands and beard, slight not
the sons of Heracles, now that thou hast them in thy power
to help. Show thyself their kinsman and their friend ; be
to them father, brother, lord ; for better each and all of these
than to fall beneath the Argives' hand.

CHO. O king, I pity them, hearing their sad lot. Now
more than ever do I see noble birth o'ercome by fortune ;
for these, though sprung from a noble sire, are suffering
what they ne'er deserved.

DEM. Three aspects of the case constrain me, lolaus, not
to spurn the guests thou bringest; first and foremost,
there is Zeus, at whose altar thou art seated with these
tender children gathered round thee ; next come ties of kin,
and the debt I owe to treat them kindly for their father's
sake; and last, mine honour, which before all I must regard ;
for if I permit this altar to be violently despoiled by stranger
hands, men will think the land I inhabit is free no more,
and that through fear1 I have surrendered suppliants to
Argives, and this comes nigh to make one hang oneself.
Would that thou hadst come under a luckier star ! yet, as it
is, fear not that any man shall tear thee and these children
from the altar by force. Get thee (to COPREUS) to Argos
and tell Eurystheus so; yea and more, if he have any charge
against these strangers, he shall have justice ; but never shalt
thou drag them hence.

COP. Not even if I have right upon my side and prove
my case ?

DEM. How can it be right to drag the suppliant away by
force ?

COP. Well,2 mine is the disgrace ; no harm will come to
thee.

1 Reading OKVQ.

a Reading with Musgrave OVKOVV . . . a\V ov. Jerram reads <JVKOVV
. . . riXXa (7oi giving as the sense of this line and the next —

HERACLEID^I. l6l

DEM. 'Tis harm to me, if I let them be haled away by
thee.

COP. Banish them thyself, and then will I take them from
elsewhere.

DE>M. Nature made thee a fool, to think thou knowest
better than the god.

COP. It seems then evildoers are to find a refuge here.

DEM. A temple of the gods is an asylum open to the
world.

COP. Maybe they will not take this view in Mycenro.

DEM. What ! am I not lord of this domain ?

COP. So long as thou injure not the Argives, and if1 wise,
thou wilt not.

DEM. Be injured for all I care, provided I sin not against
the gods.

COP. I would not have thee come to blows with Argos.

DEM. I am of like mind in this ; but I will not dismiss
these from my protection.

COP. For all that, I shall take and drag my own away.

DEM. Why then perhaps thou wilt find a difficulty in re-
turning to Argos.

COP. That shall I soon find out by making the attempt.

DEM. Touch them and thou shalt rue it, and that without
delay.

CHO. I conjure thee, never dare to strike a herald.

DEM. Strike I will, unless that herald learn discretion.

CHO. Depart ; and thou, O king, touch him not.

COP. I go ; for 'tis feeble fighting with a single arm. But
I will come again, bringing hither a host of Argive troops,
spearmen clad in bronze ; for countless warriors are awaiting
my return, and king Eurystheus in person at their head;

" Cop. No disgrace to me : the hurt will be thine.
Dem. So it will, if I let thee take them."

1 Kirchhoff places a comma after fcEiVoirg, and changes ijv into dv,
but this is not necessary.

M

162 EURIPIDES. [L. 278-352

anxiously he waits the issue here on the borders of AlcathoUs' l
realm. And when he hears thy haughty answer, he will burst
upon thee, and thy citizens, on this land and all that grows
therein ; for all in vain should we possess such hosts of
picked young troops in Argos, should we forbear to punish
thee. [Exit COPREUS.

DEM. Perdition seize thee ! I am not afraid of thy Argos.
Be very sure thou shalt not drag these suppliants hence by
force, to my shame ; for I hold not this city subject unto
Argos, but independently.

CHO. Tis time to use our forethought, ere the host of
Argos approach our frontier, for exceeding fierce are the
warriors of Mycenae, and in the present case still more than
heretofore. For all heralds observe this custom, to exag-
gerate what happened twofold. Bethink thee what a tale
he will tell his master of his dreadful treatment, how he
came very near losing his life altogether.

IOL. Children have no fairer prize than this, the being
born of a good and noble sire, and the power to wed from
noble families ; but whoso is enslaved by passion and makes
a lowborn match, I cannot praise for leaving to his children
a legacy of shame, to gratify himself. For noble birth offers
a stouter resistance to adversity than base parentage ; we,
for instance, in the last extremity of woe, have found friends
and kinsmen here, the only champions of these children
through all the length and breadth of this Hellenic world.
Give, children, give to them your hand, and they the same
to you ; draw near to them. - Ah ! children, we have made
trial of our friends, and if ever ye see the path that leads you
back to your native land, and possess your home and the
honours of your father, count them ever as your friends and
saviours, and never lift against their land thefoeman's spear,
in memory of this, but hold this city first midst those ye
love. Yea, they well deserve your warm regard, in that
1 He was king of Megara.

HERACLEID.E. 163

they have shifted from our shoulders to their own the
enmity of so mighty a land as Argos and its people,
though they saw we were vagabonds and beggars ; still they
did not give us up nor drive us forth. So while I live, and
after death, — come when it will, — loudly will I sing thy praise,
good friend, and will extol thee as I stand at Theseus' side,
and cheer his heart, as I tell how thou didst give kind welcome
arid protection to the sons of Heracles, and how nobly thou
dost preserve thy father's fame through the length of Hellas,
and hast not fallen from the high estate, to which thy father
brought thee, a lot which few others can boast ; for 'mongst
the many wilt thou find one maybe, that is not degenerate
from his sire.

CHO. This land is ever ready in an honest cause to aid the
lielpless. Wherefore ere now it hath endured troubles number-
less for friends, and now in this I see a struggle nigh at hand.

DEM. Thou hast spoken well, and I feel confident their
conduct will be such; our kindness will they not forget.
Now will I muster the citizens and set them in array, that I
may receive Mycenae's host with serried ranks. But first
will I send scouts to meet them, lest they fall upon me
unawares ; for at Argos every man is prompt to answer to
the call, and I will assemble prophets and ordain a sacrifice.
But do thou leave the altar of Zeus and go with the children
into the house ; for there are those, who will care for thee,
even though I be abroad. Enter then my house, old man.

IOL. I will not leave the altar. Let * us sit here still, pray-
ing for the city's fair success, and when thou hast made a
glorious end of this struggle, will we go unto the house ;
nor are the gods who champion us weaker than the gods of
Argos, O king ; Hera, wife of Zeus, is their leader; Athena
ours. And this I say is an omen of success, that we have
the stronger deity, for Pallas will not brook defeat.

[Exit DEMOPHON.

1 Or, ' ' let us keep our suppliant seat, awaiting the city's success."

1 64 EURIPIDES. [L. 353-433

CHO. Though loud thy boasts, there be others care no
more for thee for that, O stranger ' from the land of Argos ;
nor wilt thou scare my soul with swelling words. Not yet
be this the fate of mighty Athens, beauteous town ! But
thou art void of sense, and so is he, who lords it o'er Argos,
the son of Sthenelus, — thou that comest to another state, in
no wise weaker than Argos, and, stranger that thou art,
wouldst drag away by force suppliants of the gods, wanderers
that cling 2 to my land for help, refusing to yield to our king,
nor yet having any honest plea to urge. How can such
conduct count as honourable, at least in wise men's judg-
ment ? I am for peace myself; yet I tell thee, wicked king,
although thou come unto my city, thou shalt not get so
easily what thou expectest. Thou art not the only man to
wield a sword or targe with plates of brass. Nay, thou
eager warrior, I warn thee, bring not war's alarms against
our lovely town ; restrain thyself.

IOL. My son, why, prithee, art thou returned with that
anxious look? Hast thou news of the enemy? Are they
coming, are they here, or what thy tidings ? For of a surety
yon herald will not play us false. No ! sure I am their cap-
tain, prosperous heretofore, will come, with thoughts exceeding
proud against Athens. But Zeus doth punish overweening
pride.

DEM. The host of Argos is come, and Eurystheus its
king ; my own eyes saw him, for the man who thinks he
knows good generalship must see the foe not by messengers
alone. As yet, however, he hath not sent his host into the
plain, but, camped upon a rocky brow, is watching — I only
tell thee what I think this means — to see by which road to
lead his army hither without fighting, and how to take up a
safe position in this land. However, all my plans are by
this time carefully laid ; the city is under arms, the victims

1 Reading w Ztlv' 'ApyoOtv 'eXOwv (Erfurdt).

2 Reading with Dindorf avTiG^fikvovQ. Nauck has ai>rofj,evov£t

HERACLEIDJE. 165

stand ready to be slain to every god, whose due this is ; my
seers have filled the town with sacrifices, to turn the foe to
flight and keep our country safe. All those who chant pro-
phetic words have I assembled, and have examined ancient
oracles, both public and secret, as means to save this city.
And though the several answers differ in many points, yet
in one is the sentiment of all clearly the same ; they bid me
sacrifice to Demeter's l daughter some maiden from a noble
father sprung. Now I, though in your cause I am as zealous
as thou seest, yet will not slay my child, nor will I compel
any of my subjects to do so against his will ; for who of his
own will doth harbour such an evil thought as to yield with
his own hands the child he loves ? And now thou mayest 2
see angry gatherings, where some declare, 'tis right to stand
by suppliant strangers, while others charge me with folly ;
but if I do 3 this deed, a civil war is then and there on foot.
Do thou then look to this and help to find a way to save
yourselves and this country without causing me to be
slandered by the citizens. For I am no despot like a bar-
barian monarch ; but provided4 I do what is just, just will
my treatment be.

CHO. Can it be that heaven forbids this city to help
strangers, when it hath the will and longing so to do ?

IOL. My children, we are even as those mariners, who
have escaped the storm's relentless rage, and have the land
almost within their reach, but after all are driven back from
shore by tempests to the deep again. Even so we, just as
we reach the shore in seeming safety, are being thrust back
from this land. Ah me ! Why, cruel hope, didst thou then

1 Persephone, queen of the dead.

2 Hartung unnecessarily reads a<rrw»' I&HC.

3 Reading « $i 8r) which gives a quite intelligible sense ; yet it has
been altered by some into i]v St /*»}.

4 Cobet proposed fjVTTfp dcuca, i.e. " if I do what is unjust, I shall get
my deserts."

166 EURIPIDES. [L. 434-502

cheer my heart, though thou didst not mean to make the
boon complete? The king may well be pardoned, if he will
not slay his subjects' children ; and with my treatment here
I am content ; if indeed 'tis heaven's will, I thus should
fare, still is my gratitude to thee in no wise lost. Children,
I know not what to do for you. Whither shall we turn ? for
what god's altar have we left uncrowned ? to what fenced
city have we failed to go? Ruin and surrender are our
instant lot, poor children ! If I must die, 'tis naught to me,
save that thereby I give those foes of mine some cause for
joy. But you, children, I lament and pity, and that aged
mother of your sire, Alcmena. Ah, woe is thee for thy long
span of life ! and woe is me for all my idle toil ! 'Twas
after all our destined doom to fall into the hands of our
hated foe, and die a death of shame and misery. But lend
me thine aid, thou knowest how; for all hope of these
children's safety has not yet left me. Give me up instead of
them to the Argives, O king ; run no risk, but let me save
the children ; to love my life becomes me not ; let it pass/
Me l will Eurystheus be most glad to take and treat despite-
fully, as I was Heracles' companion ; for the man is but a
boor ; wherefore wise men ought to pray to get a wise man for
their foe, and not a proud senseless fool ; for so, even if by
fortune 2 flouted, one would meet with much consideration.

CHO. Old man, blame3 not this city; for though perhaps
a gain 4 to us, yet would it be a foul reproach that we betrayed
strangers.

DEM. A generous scheme is thine, but impossible. Tis
not in quest of thee yon king comes marching hither ; what

1 Usenet, followed by Nauck, regards lines 456 to 460 as spurious.

a Reading with Tyrrwhitt icarvxhs for icai Siicijs, which in the Aldine
became rat TV\IIQ and suggested the emendation.

3 But lolaus has praised, not blamed Athens. And so Hartung pro-
poses to read iiraivkv-gs. Usener TrjvSf. TCIVT' dint.

1 Readin K=&>£. Nauck

HERACLEID^:. 167

would Eurystheus gain by the death of one so old ? Nay,
'tis these children's blood he wants. For there is danger to
a foe in the youthful scions of a noble race, whose memory
dwells upon their father's wrongs ; all this Eurystheus must
foresee. But if thou hast any scheme besides, that better
suits the time, be ready with it, for, since I heard that oracle,
I am at a loss and full of fear. \Exit DEMOPHON.

MAC Sirs, impute not boldness to me, because I venture
forth ; this shall be my first request, for a woman's fairest
crown is this, to practise silence and discretion, and abide
at home in peace. But when I heard thy lamentations,
lolaus, I came forth, albeit I was not appointed to take the
lead in my family. Still in some sense am I fit to do so,
for these my brothers are my chiefest care, and I fain would
ask, as touching myself, whether some new trouble, added to
the former woes, is gnawing at thy heart.

IOL. My daughter, 'tis nothing new that I should praise
thee, as I justly may, above all the children of Heracles.
Our house seemed to be prospering, when back it fell again
into a hopeless state ; for the king declares the prophets
signify that he must order the sacrifice, not of bull or heifer,
but of some tender maid of noble lineage, if we and this city
are to exist. Herein is our perplexity; the king refuses
either to sacrifice his own or any other's child. 1 Wherefore,
though he use not terms express, yet doth he hint, that,
unless we find some way out of this perplexity, we must
seek some other land, for he this country fain would save.

MAC. Are these indeed the terms on which our safety
depends?

IOL. Yea, on these ; if, that is, we are successful other-
wise.

MAC. No longer then cower before the hated Argive
spear; for I, of my own free will, or ever they bid me, am
ready to die and offer myself as a victim. For what excuse
1 Nauck condemns lines 494 to 497.

1 68 EURIPIDES. [L. 503-573

have we, if, while this city deems it right to incur a great
danger on our behalf, we, though we might save ourselves,
fly from death, by foisting our trouble on others ? No !
indeed, 'twere surely most ridiculous to sit and mourn as
suppliants of the gods, and show ourselves but cowards,
children as we are of that illustrious sire. Where among
the brave is such conduct seen ? Better, I suppose, this
city should be taken and I (which Heaven forefend !) fall into
the hands of the enemy, and then, for all I am my noble
father's child, meet an awful doom, and face the Death-god
none the less. Shall I wander as an exile from this land ?
Shall I not feel shame then, when someone says, as say
they will, "Why are ye come hither with suppliant boughs,
loving your lives too well ? Begone from our land ! for we
will not succour cowards." Nay, if these be slain and I
alone be saved, I have no hope in any wise of being happy,
though many ere now have in this hope betrayed their
friends. For who will care to wed a lonely maid or make
me mother of his children? 'Tis better I should die than
meet such treatment, [l little as I merit it. This were fitter
treatment for some other, one that is not born to fame as I
am,] Conduct me to the scene of death, ['crown me with
garlands, and begin the rites, if so it please you ; ] then be
victorious o'er the foe, for here I offer my life freely and
without constraint, and for my brothers and myself I under-
take to die. [ 3 For I, by loving not my life too well, have
found a treasure very fair, a glorious means to leave it.]

CHO. Ah, what shall I say on hearing the maid's brave
words, she that is ready to die for her brothers ? Who can

1 Paley brackets these two lines as spurious, and Nauck suspects
their genuineness.

2 Paley encloses this line in brackets. Nauck says it is either
spurious or corrupt. Certainly it offends against tragic usage by con-
taining a cretic foot as the fifth.

3 Also regarded by Paley as spurious.

HERACLEID.E. 169

speak more noble words or do more noble deeds henceforth
for ever ?

IOL. Daughter, thou art his own true child, no other man's
but Heracles', that godlike soul ; proud am I of thy words,
though I sorrow for thy lot. Yet will I propose a fairer
method : 'tis right to summon hither all the sisters of this
maiden, and then let her, on whom the lot shall fall, die for
her family; for that thou shouldst die without the lot is not
just.

MAC. My death shall no chance lot decide ; there is no
graciousness in that ; peace ! old friend. But if ye accept
and will avail you of my readiness, freely do I offer my life
for these, and without constraint.

IOL. Ah, this is even nobler than thy former word ; that
was matchless, but thou dost now surpass thy bravery and
noble speech. I cannot bid, will not forbid thy dying, O my
daughter ! for l by thy death thou dost thy brothers serve.

MAC. A cautious bidding thine ! Fear not to take a
stain of guilt from me; only let me die as one whose death
is free. Follow me, old friend, for in thy arms I fain would
die ; stand by and veil my body with my robe, for I will go
even to the dreadful doom of sacrifice, seeing whose daughter
I avow myself.

IOL. I cannot stand by and see thee bleed.

MAC. At least do thou beg me this boon of the king,
that I may breathe out my life in women's arms instead of
men's.

DEM. It shall be so, unhappy maid ; for this were shame
to me to refuse thee honour due, for many reasons : because
thou hast a soul so brave ; because 'tis right ; and thou hast
shown more courage than any of thy sex my eyes have ever
seen. Now, if thou hast aught to say to these children or
thy aged guide, oh 2 ! say the last thou hast to say — then go.

1 Nauck condemns this line.

2 Reading £//, with Elmsley, for /*ot.

170 EURIPIDES. [L. 574-645

MAC. Farewell, old friend, farewell! and prithee teach
these children to be like thyself, wise at every point; let
them strive no further, for that will suffice them. And seek
to save them from death, even as thou art anxious to do ;
thy children are we, thy care it was that nurtured us. Thou
seest how I yield my bridal bloom to die for them. For
you, my brothers gathered here, may you be happy ! and may
every blessing be yours, for the which my blood shall
pay the price ! l Honour this old friend, and her that is
within the house, Alcmena, the aged mother of my sire,
and these strangers too. And if ever heaven for you devise
release from trouble and a return to your home, remember
the burial due to her that saved you, a funeral fair 2 as I
deserve; for I have not failed, but stood by you, and
died to save my race. This shall be my pearl of price
instead of children, and for the maiden life I leave, if there
be really aught beyond the grave — God grant there may
not be ! For if, e'en there, we who are to die shall find
a life of care, I know not whither one shall turn ; for death
is held a sovereign cure for every ill.

IOL. Maiden of heroic soul, transcending all thy race,
be sure the fame that thou shalt win from us, in life, in
death, shall leave the rest of women far behind ; farewell to
thee ! I dare not say harsh words of her to whom thou art
devoted, the goddess-daughter of Demeter. [Exit MACARIA.]
Children, I am undone, grief unnerves my limbs; take
hold and support me to a seat hard by, when ye have
drawn my mantle o'er my face, my sons. For I am grieved
at what hath happened, and yet, were it not fulfilled, we
could not live ; thus were the mischief worse, though this is
grief enough.

CHO. Without the will of heaven none is blest, none
curst, I do maintain; nor doth the same house for ever tread

1 Badham proposed <r0a\/;<T€rcH, certainly an easier reading.
a Nauck, juaXurra for jcaXXiara.

HERACLEID.E. I? I

the path of bliss; for one kind of fortune follows hard upon
another; one man it brings to naught from his high estate,
another though of no ' account it crowns with happiness.
To shun what fate decrees, is no wise permitted; none by
cunning shall thrust it from him; but he, who vainly
would do so, shall have unceasing trouble. Then fall not
prostrate thou, but bear what heaven sends, and set a limit to
thy soul's grief; for she, poor maid ! in dying for her brothers
and this land, hath won a glorious death, and splendid fame
shall be her meed from all mankind ; for virtue's path leads
through troublous ways. Worthy of her father, worthy of
her noble birth is this conduct. And if thou dost honour
the virtuous dead, I share with thee that sentiment.

SER. All hail, ye children ! Where is aged lolaus ? where
the mother of your sire, absent from their place at this
altar ?

IOL. Here am I, so far as I can be present at all.

SER. Why dost thou lie there ? Why that downcast look ?

IOL. There is come a sorrow on my house, whereby I am
distressed.

SER. Arise, lift up thy head.

IOL. I am old, and all my strength is gone.

SER. But I come with tidings of great joy for thee.

IOL. Who art thou ? Where have I met thee ? I have
no remembrance.

SER. I am a vassal of Hyllus; dost not recognize me now?

IOL. Best of friends, art thou come to save us twain from
hurt?

SER. Assuredly ; and moreover thou art lucky in the
present case.

IOL. Alcmena, mother of a noble son, to thee I call !
come forth, hear this welcome news. For long has anguish
caused thee inwardly to waste, wondering if those, who
now are here, would ever come.

1 Reading dr/rov, Fix's emendation for the unmetrical aXi'irav of MS.

172 EURIPIDES. [L. 646-701

ALC. What means that shout, that echoes throughout the
house? Hath there come yet a herald from Argos, O lolaus,
and is he treating thee with violence ? Feeble is any strength
of mine; yet thus much let me tell thee, stranger, never,
whilst I live, shalt thou drag them hence. Shouldst thou
succeed, no more let me be thought the mother of that hero.
And if thou lay a finger on them, thou wilt struggle to thy
shame with two aged foes.

IOL. Courage, aged dame, fear not ; not from Argos is a
herald come, with hostile messages.

ALC. Why then didst raise a cry, fear's harbinger ?

IOL. I called thee to come to me in front of this temple.

ALC. I know not what it means ; who is this ?

IOL. A messenger who says thy grandson cometh hither.

ALC. All hail to thee for these thy tidings ! But why is
he not here, where is he ? if in this land he hath set foot.
What hath happened to keep him from coming hither with
thee, to cheer my heart ?

SER. He is posting the army he brought with him, and
seeing it marshalled.

ALC. Then have I no concern herein.

IOL. Yes, thou hast ; though it is my business to inquire
into these matters.

SER. What then wouldst thou learn of these events ?

IOL. About how many allies has he with him ?

SER. A numerous force ; I cannot otherwise describe the
number.

IOL. The leaders of the Athenians know this, I suppose ?

SER. They do ; already is their left wing set in array.

IOL. Is then the host already armed for battle ?

SER. Yea, and already are the victims brought * near 2 the
ranks.

IOL. About what distance is the Argive host from us ?

has been proposed for irapijicTai.
is Dindorf 's emendation for 'wag .

HERACLEID^:. 173

SER. Near enough for their general to be plainly seen.

IOL. What is he about ? marshalling the enemy's line ?

SER. So we guessed ; we could not hear exactly. But I
must go, for I would not that my master should engage the
foe without me, if I can help it.

IOL. I also will go with thee ; for I like thee am minded,
so it seems, to be there and help my friends.

SER. It least of all becomes thee thus to utter words of
folly.

IOL. Far less to shrink from sharing with my friends the
stubborn fight.

SER. Mere looks can wound no one, if the arm do naught.

IOL. Why, cannot I smite even through their shields?

SER. Smite perhaps, more likely be smitten thyself.

IOL. No foe will dare to meet me face to face.

SER. Friend, the strength, that erst was thine, is thine
no more.

IOL. Well, at any rate, I will fight with as many as ever
I did.

SER. Small the weight thou canst throw into the balance
for thy friends.

IOL. Detain me not, when I have girded myself for action.

SER. The power to act is thine no more, the will maybe
is there.

IOL. Stay here I will not, say what else1 thou wilt.

SER. How shalt thou show thyself before the troops
unarmed ?

IOL. There be captured arms within this shrine ; these
will I use, and, if I live, restore ; and, if I am slain, the god
will not demand them of me back. Go thou within, and
from its peg take down a suit of armour and forthwith bring
it to me. To linger thus at home is infamous, while some
go fight, and others out of cowardice remain behind.

[Exit Servant.

1 Badham proposed ra/xd for raXXa.

174 EURIPIDES. [L. 702-774

CHO. Not yet hath time laid low thy spirit, 'tis young as
ever; but thy body's strength is gone. Why toil to no
purpose? 'Twill do thee hurt and benefit our city little.
At thy age thou shouldst confess thy error and let impos-
sibilities alone. Thou canst in no way get thy vigour back
again.

ALC. What means this mad resolve to leave me with my
children undefended here ?

IOL. Men must fight ; and thou must look to them.

ALC. And what if thou art slain ? what safety shall I
find?

IOL. Thy son's surviving children will care for thee.

ALC Suppose they meet with some reverse? which Heaven
forefend !

IOL. These strangers will not give thee up, fear not

ALC. They are my last arid only hope, I have no other.

IOL. Zeus too, I feel sure, cares for thy sufferings.

ALC. Ah ! of Zeus will I never speak ill, but himself doth
know, whether he is just to me.

SER. Lo ! here thou seest a full coat of mail ; make haste
to case thyself therein ; for the strife is nigh, and bitterly
doth Ares loathe loiterers ; but if thou fear the weight of the
armour, go for the present without it, and in the ranks do on
this gear ; meantime will I carry it.

IOL. Well said ! keep the harness ready to my hand, put
a spear within my grasp, and support me on the left side,
guiding my steps.

SER. Am I to lead this warrior like a child ?

IOL. To save the omen, we must go without stumbling.

SER. Would thy power to act were equal to thy zeal !

IOL. Hasten ; I shall feel it grievously, if I am too late for
the battle.

SER. Tis thou who art slow, not I, though thou fanciest
thou art doing wonders

IOL. Dost not mark how swift my steps are hasting?

IIERACLEID/E. 175

SER. I mark more seeming than reality in thy haste.

IOL. Thou wilt tell a different tale when thou seest me
there.

SER. What shall I see thee do ? I wish thee all success,
at any rate.

IOL. Thou shalt see me smite some foeman through the
shield.

SER. Perhaps, if ever we get there. I have my fears of
that.

IOL. Ah ! would to Heaven that thou, mine arm, e'en as
I remember thee in thy lusty youth, when with Heracles thou
didst sack Sparta, couldst so champion me to-day ! how I
would put Eurystheus to flight ! since he is too craven to wait
the onslaught. For prosperity carries with it this error too
a reputation for bravery ; for we think the prosperous man a
master of all knowledge.

CHO. O earth, and moon that shines by night, and dazzling
radiance of the god, that giveth light to man, bear the tidings
to me, shout aloud to heaven for joy, and beside our ruler's
throne, and in the shrine of grey-eyed Athene. For my
fatherland and home will I soon decide the issue of the
strife with the gleaming sword, because I have taken sup-
pliants under my protection. 'Tis a fearful thing, that a city
prosperous as Mycenae is, one famed for martial prowess,
should harbour wrath against my land ; still, my country-
men, it were a shameful thing in us to yield up suppliant
strangers at the bidding of Argos. Zeus is on my side, I am
not afraid ; Zeus hath a favour unto me, as is my due ; never
by me l shall gods be thought weaker than mortal men. O
dread goddess,2 thine the soil whereon we stand, thine this
city, for thou art its mother, queen, and saviour ; wherefore
turn some other way the impious king, who leadeth a host

1 Dindorf's emendation is followed in this corrupt passage ; ij
iraft lp.oi 0£or <pai>ovVTCU.

2 Pallas.

i;6 EURIPIDES. [L. 775-846

from Argos with brandished lance against this land ; for,
such my worth, I little merit exile from my home. For thy
worship * is aye performed with many a sacrifice, and never
art thou forgotten as each month draweth to its close, when
young voices sing and dancers' music is heard abroad, while
on our wind-swept hill goes up the cry of joy to the beat of
maidens' feet by night.

SER. Mistress, the message that I bring is very short for
thee to hear and fair for me, who stand before thee, to
announce. O'er our foes we are victorious, and trophies
are being set up, with panoplies upon them, taken from thy
enemies.

ALC. Best of friends ! this day hath wrought a thy liberty
by reason of these tidings. But there still remains one
anxious thought thou dost not free me from ; — a thought
of fear ; — are those, whose lives I cherish, spared to me?

SER. They are, and high their fame through all the army
spreads.

ALC. The old man lolaus, — is he yet alive ?

SER. Aye, that he is, a hero whom the gods delight to
honour.

ALC. How so ? Did he perform some deed of prowess ?

SER. He hath passed from age to youth once more.

ALC. Thy tale is passing strange ; but first I would that
thou shouldst tell me, how our friends won the day.

SER. One speech of mine puts it all clearly before thee.
When we had deployed our troops and marshalled them face
to face with one another, Hyllus dismounted from his four-
horsed chariot and stood midway betwixt the hosts. Then
cried he, " Captain, who art come from Argos, why cannot we
leave this land alone ? No hurt wilt thou do Mycenae, if
of one man thou rob her ; come ! meet me in single combat,
and, if thou slay me, take the children of Heracles away with

1 The festival of the Panatheneea is alluded to.

2 Reiske, 8if)Wffiv for the unusual di

HERACLEID.E. 177

thee, but, if thou fall, leave me to possess my ancestral
honours and my home." The host cried yes ! saying the
scheme he offered was a fair one, both to rid them of their
trouble and satisfy their valour. But that other, feeling
no shame before those who heard the challenge or at his
own cowardice, quailed, general though he was, to come
within reach of the stubborn spear, showing himself an
abject coward ; yet with such a spirit he came to enslave the
children of Heracles. Then did Hyllus withdraw to his
own ranks again, and the prophets seeing that no reconcilia-
tion would be effected by single combat, began the sacrifice
without delay and forthwith let flow from a human l throat
auspicious streams of blood. And some were mounting
chariots, while others couched beneath the shelter of their
shields, and the king of the Athenians, as a highborn chief-
tain should, would exhort his host : " Fellow-citizens, the
tand, that feeds you and that gave you birth, demands to-day
the help of every man." Likewise Eurystheus besought his
allies that they should scorn to sully the fame of Argos and
Mycenae. Anon the Etrurian trumpet sounded loud and
clear, and hand to hand they rushed; then think how
loudly clashed their ringing shields, what din arose of cries
and groans confused ! At first the onset of the Argive spear-
men broke our ranks; then they in turn gave ground; next,
foot to foot and man to man, they fought their stubborn fray,
many falling the while. And either chief cheered on his men,
" Sons of Athens ! Ye who till the fields of Argos ! ward from
your land disgrace." Do all we could, and spite of every
effort, scarce could we turn the Argive line in flight. When
lo ! old lolaus sees Hyllus starting from the ranks, whereon
he lifts his hands to him with a prayer to take him up into his
chariot. Thereon he seized the reins and went hard after the

1 If fipoTtiwv is correct, it would seem to refer to Macaria. Palev
offers the ingenious suggestion floret tin>, i.e., "throats of beasts ' but the
word has no authority. Better is Helbig's ftoi'nav.

N

1 7*5 EURIPIDES. [L. 847 — 936

horses of Eurystheus. From this point onward must I speak
from hearsay, though hitherto as one whose own eyes saw.
For as he was crossing Pallene's hill, sacred to the goddess
Athene, he caught sight of Eurystheus' chariot, and prayed
to Hebe and to Zeus, that for one single day he might grow
young again and wreak his vengeance on his foes. Now
must thou hear a wondrous tale : two stars settled on the
horses' yokes and threw the chariot into dark shadow,
which — at least so say our wiser folk — were thy son and
Hebe; and from that murky gloom appeared that aged man
in the form of a youth with strong young arms ; then by the
rocks of Sciron the hero lolaus o'ertakes Eurystheus'
chariot. And he bound his hands with gyves, and is bring-
ing that chieftain once so prosperous as a trophy hither,
whose fortune now doth preach a lesson, clear as day, to all the
sons of men, that none should envy him, who seems to thrive,
until they see his death ; for fortune's moods last but a day.

CHO. O Zeus, who puttest my foes to flight, now may I
behold the day that frees me from cruel fear !

ALC. At last, O Zeus, hast thou turned a favouring eye
on my affliction ; yet do I thank thee for what has happened.
And though ere this I did not believe my son was gathered
to the gods, now am I convinced thereof. My children,
now at last from toil shall ye be free, free from him, whom
hideous death awaits, Eurystheus; now shall ye behold
your father's city, and set foot in the land of your inheritance,
and sacrifice to those ancestral gods, from whom ye have
been debarred and forced to lead in strangers' lands a life of
wretched vagrancy. But tell me, what sage purpose lolaus
nursed in his heart, that he spared the life of Eurystheus,
for to my mind this is no wisdom, to catch a foe and wreak
no vengeance on him.

SER. 'Twas his regard for thee, that thou might'st see him
subject to thy hand, and triumph l o'er him. Rest assured,

1 Reading with Reiske Kparovaa.

HERACLEID^E.

'twas no willing prisoner he made, but by strong constraint
he bound him, for Eurystheus was loth indeed to come alive
into thy presence and pay his penalty. Farewell, my aged
mistress ; I pray thee remember thy first promise when I
was beginning my story ; set me free ; for, at such a time
as this, sincerity becometh noble lips. {Exit Servant.

CHO. Sweet is the dance to me, whenso the clear-toned
flute and lovely Aphrodite shed grace upon the feast ; and
a joyful thing too it is, I trow, to witness the good luck of
friends, who till then ne'er dreamt of it. For numerous is
the offspring of Fate, that bringeth all to pass, and of
Time, the son of Cronos. Thine is the path of justice, O
my city ; this must no man wrest from thee, thy reverence
for the gods, and, whoso denieth it of thee, draws nigh to
frenzy's goal, with these plain proofs in view. Yea, for the
god proclaims it clearly, by cutting short the bad man's
pride in every case. In heaven, mother, lives thy son,
passed from earth away ; that he went down to Hades' halls,
his body burnt by the fire's fierce flame, is past belief; in
golden halls reclined he has to wife Hebe, lovely nymph.
Thou, O Hymen, hast honoured them, children both of
Zeus. Things for the most part form a single chain ; for
instance, men say Athene used to champion their father, and
now the citizens of that goddess have saved his children, and
checked the insolence of him, whose heart preferred violence
to justice. God save me from such arrogance, such greed
of soul ! [EURYSTHEUS is brought in bound.

MES. Mistress, though thine eyes see him, yet will I an-
nounce we have brought Eurystheus hither for thy pleasure,
an unexpected sight, for him no less a chance he ne'er
foresaw; for little he thought of ever falling into thy hands,
what time he marched from Mycenae with his toil-worn
warriors, to sack Athens, thinking himself far above fortune.
But a power divine hath reversed our destinies, changing
their position. Now Hyllus and brave lolaus I left raising

1 80 EURIPIDEl. [L. 937—1008

an image to Zeus, who routs the foe, for their triumphant
victory, whilst they bid me bring this prisoner to thee, wish-
ing to gladden thy heart ; for 'tis the sweetest sight to see a
foe fall on evil days after prosperity.

ALC. Art come, thou hateful wretch ? Hath Justice
caught thee then at last? First, turn thy head this way to
me, and endure to look thy enemies in the face, for thou
art no more the ruler, but the slave. Art l thou the man—-
for this I fain would learn — who didst presume to heap thy
insults on my son, who now is where he is, thou miscreant?
What outrage didst thou abstain from putting upon him ?
Thou that didst make him go down alive even to Hades,
and wouldst send him with an order to slay hydras and
lions? Thy other evil schemes I mention ^not, for to tell
them were a tedious task for me. Nor did it content thee
to venture thus far only; no ! but from all Hellas wouldst
thou drive me and my children, heaven's suppliants though
we were, grey-heads some of us, and some still tender babes.
But here hast thou found men and a free city, that feared
not thee. Die in torment must thou, and e'en so wilt thou
gain in every way, for one death is not thy due, after all the
sorrow thou hast caused.

MES. Thou mayst not slay him.

ALC. Then have we taken him captive in vain. But say,
what law forbids his death ?

MES. It is not the will of the rulers of this land.

ALC. Why, what is this ? Do they not approve of slaying
enemies?

MES. Not such as they have taken alive in battle.

ALC. Did Hyllus uphold this decision ?

MES. He, I suppose, ought to have disobeyed the law
of the land.

ALC. The prisoner's life ought not to have been spared
a moment.

1 Nauck condemns this line ; as also line 948.

HERACLEID.E. l8l

MES. It was then that he was wronged, by not being slain
at first.

ALC. Why, then, he is still in time to pay his penalty.

MES. There is no one, who will slay him now.

ALC. I will ; and yet I count myself someone.

MES. Well, thou wilt incur great blame, if thou do this
deed.

ALC. I love this city well ; that cannot be gainsaid. But
since this man hath fallen into my power, no mortal hand
shall wrest him from me. Wherefore let who will, call me
the woman bold, with thoughts too high for her sex ; yet
shall this deed be brought to pass by me.

CHO. Lady, full well I understand thou hast a dire quarrel
with this man, and 'tis pardonable.

EUR. Woman, be sure I will not flatter thee nor say aught
to save my life, that can give any occasion for a charge of
cowardice. It was not of my own free will I took this
quarrel up ; I am aware that I was born thy cousin, and
kinsman to Heracles, thy son ; but whether I would or no,
Hera, by her power divine, caused me to be afflicted thus.
Still, when I undeitook to be his foe, and when I knew I
had to enter on this struggle, I set myself to devise trouble
in plenty, and oft from time to time my midnight com-
muning bore fruit, scheming how to push aside and slay my
foes, and for the future divorce myself from fear ; for I knew
that son of thine was no mere cipher, but a man indeed ; yea,
for, though he was my foe, I will speak well of him, because
he was a man of worth. Now, after he was taken hence,
was I not forced, by reason of these children's hatred, and
because I was conscious of an hereditary feud, to leave no
stone unturned by slaying, banishing, and plotting against
them ? So long as I did so, my safety was assured. Sup-
pose thyself hadst had my lot, wouldst not thou have set to
harassing the lion's angry whelps, instead of letting them dwell
at Argos undisturbed ? Thou wilt not persuade us otherwise.

1 82 EURIPIDES. [L. 1009—1055

Now therefore, since they did not slay me then, when I was
prepared to die, by the laws of Hellas my death becomes a
curse on him, who slays me now. The city wisely let me
go, in that she regarded the gods more than her hatred of
me. Thou hast had my answer to thy words ; henceforth
must I be called avenging spirit l and noble hero too.2 Tis
even thus with me ; to die have I no wish, but, if I leave my
life, I shall in no way be grieved.

CHO. Alcmena, fain I would advise thee somewhat ; let
this man go, for 'tis the city's will.

ALC. Suppose he die, and yet I obey the city ?

CHO. That would be best of all ; but how can this be ?

ALC. I will teach thee easily. I will slay him and then
give up his corpse to those of his friends, who come for it,
for, as regards his body, I will not disobey 3 the state ; but by
his death shall he pay me the penalty.

EUR. Slay me, I do not ask thee for mercy ; yet since
this city let me go and shrunk from slaying me, I will
reward it with an old oracle of Loxias, which in time will
benefit them more than doth appear. Bury my body after
death in its destined grave in front of the shrine of the
virgin goddess4 at Pallene. And I will be thy friend and
guardian of thy city for ever, where I lie buried in a foreign
soil, but a bitter foe to these children's descendants, when-
soe'er5 with gathered host they come against this land,
traitors to your kindness now ; such are the strangers ye
have championed. Why then came I hither, if I knew all

1 Or, "guilty of blood." Lat. homo piacularis.

2 i.e. I will meet my doom like a hero, and haunt you after death.

3 cnriffTt'iffio is suspected by Nauck, and certainly it is difficult to
extract any satisfactory meaning from it. Liddell and Scott, citing this
passage, alone say "will not hesitate to commit it to the ground" — a
doubtful usage.

4 Pallas.

6 Referring to invasions by the Peloponnesians, descendants of the
Heracleidae.

IIERACLEID^E.

this, instead of regarding the god's oracle? Because I
thought, that Hera was mightier far than any oracle, and
would not betray me. Waste no drink-offering on my tomb,
nor spill the victim's blood ; for I will requite them for my
treatment here with a journey they shall rue ; and ye shall
have double gain from me, for I will help you and harm
them by my death.

ALC. Why, why delay to kill this man, after hearing this,
since this is needed to secure the safety of your city and
your children ? Himself points out the safest road. Though
the man is now our foe, yet after death is he our gain.
Away with him, ye servants, and cast him l to the dogs when
ye have slain him. Think not thou shalt live to cast me
forth from my native land again.

CHO. I agree. Lead on, servants. Our2 conduct shall
bring no stain of guilt upon our rulers.

1 A strange breach of her promise just before — perhaps here, as in
other parts of this play, some confusion is due to the very probable
theory of Hermann that our text is incomplete — e.g. no account of
Macaria's death-scene is extant ; this could hardly have been omitted by
such a lover of pathos as Euripides.

a We have had nothing to do with it. The responsibility rests with
Alcmena.

THE SUPPLIANTS

DRAMATIS PERSONS.

CHORUS OF ARGIVE MOTHERS.

THESEUS.

ADRASTUS.

HKRALD.

MESSENGER.

EVADNE.

IPHIS.

CHILDREN.

ATHENA.

SCENE.— The Temple of Demeter at Eleusis.

THE SUPPLIANTS.

O Demeter, guardian of this Eleusinian land, and
ye servants of the goddess who attend her fane, grant happi-
ness to me and my son Theseus, to the city of Athens and
the country of Pittheus, wherein my father reared me, ^Ethra,
in a happy home, and gave me in marriage to -^Egeus,
Pandion's son, according to the oracle of Loxias. This
prayer I make, when I behold these aged dames, who, leaving
their homes in Argos, now throw themselves with suppliant
branches at my knees in their awful trouble; for around the
gates of Cadmus have they lost their seven noble sons, whom
on a day Adrastus, king of Argos, led thither, eager to
secure for exiled Polynices, his son-in-law, a share in the
heritage of CEdipus ; so now their mothers would bury in the
grave the dead, whom the spear hath slain, but the victors
prevent them and will not allow them to take up the corpses,
spurning Heaven's laws. Here lies Adrastus on the ground
with streaming eye, sharing with them the burden of their
prayer to me, and bemoaning the havoc of the sword and
the sorry fate of the warriors whom he led from their homes.
And he doth urge me use entreaty, to persuade my son to take
up the dead and help to bury them, either by winning words
or force of arms, laying on my son and on Athens this task
alone. Now it chanced, that I had left my house and
come to offer sacrifice on behalf of the earth's crop at this
shrine, where first the fruitful corn showed its bristling
shocks above the soil. And here at the holy altars of the
twain goddesses, Demeter and her daughter, I wait, holding

1 88 EURIPIDES. [L. 32—107

these sprays of foliage, a bond that bindeth not, in compassion
for these childless mothers, hoary with age, and from reve-
rence for the sacred fillets. To call Theseus hither is my
herald to the city gone, that he may rid the land of that
which grieveth them, or loose these my suppliant bonds,
with pious observance of the gods' will ; for such as are
discreet amongst women should in all cases invoke the aid
of men.

CHO. At thy knees I fall, aged dame, and my old lips
beseech thee; arise, rescue from the slain my children's
bodies, whose limbs, by death relaxed, are left a prey to
savage mountain beasts, beholding the bitter tears which
spring to my eyes and my old wrinkled skin torn by my
hands; for what can I do else? who never laid out my children
dead within my halls, nor now behold their tombs heaped up
with earth. Thou too, honoured lady, once a son didst bear,
crowning thy lord's marriage with fond joy ; then share, O
share with me thy mother's feelings, in such measure as my
sad heart grieves for my own dead sons ; and persuade thy
son, whose aid we implore, to go unto the river Ismenus,
there to place within my hapless arms the bodies of my
children, slain in their prime and left without a tomb.1
Though 2 not as piety enjoins, yet from sheer necessity I have
come to the fire-crowned altars of the gods, falling on my
knees with instant supplication, for my cause is just, and
'tis in thy power, blest as thou art in thy children, to remove
from me my woe ; so in my sore distress I do beseech thee
of my misery place in my hands my son's dead body, that
I may throw my arms about his hapless limbs.

SEMI. Behold a rivalry in sorrow \ woe takes up the tale
of woe ; hark ! thy servants beat their breasts. Come ye

1 Translating from Elmsley's emendation of this corrupt passage,
(yaXtpuHf aujfia raXaivac (iratyov.

2 Because they had arrived during a festival, and their supplication at
such a time was a bad omen.

THE SUPPLIANTS. 189

who join the mourners' wail, come, O sympathetic band, to
join the dance, which Hades honours ; let the1 pearly nail be
stained red, as it rends your cheeks, let your skin be
streaked with gore ; for honours rendered to the dead are a
credit2 to the living. Sorrow's charm doth drive me wild,
insatiate, painful, endless, even as the trickling stream that
gushes from some steep rock's face ; for 'tis woman's way to
fall a-weeping o'er the cruel calamity of children dead. Ah
me ! would I could die and forget my anguish !

THE. What is this lamentation that I hear, this beating
of the breast, these dirges for the dead, with cries that echo
from this shrine? How fluttering fear disquiets me, lest
haply my mother have gotten some mischance, in quest of
whom I come, for she hath been long absent from home.
Ha ! what now ? A strange sight challenges my speech ; I
see my aged mother sitting at the altar and stranger dames
are with her, who in various note proclaim their woe ;
from aged eyes the piteous tear is starting to the ground,
their hair is shorn, their robes are not the robes of joy.
What means it, mother ? 'Tis thine to make it plain to me,
mine to listen ; yea, for I expect some tidings strange.

&TH. My son, these are the mothers of those chieftains
seven, who fell around the gates of Cadmus' town. With
suppliant boughs they keep me prisoner, as thou seest, in
their midst.

THE. And who is yonder man, that moaneth piteously in
the gateway ?

^TH. Adrastus, they inform me, king of Argos.

THE. Are those his children, those boys who stand round
him?

. Not his, but the sons of the fallen slain.

1 Hartung proposes to read $ia iraprrfog ovvxa TtQfTe <j>6i>tcv,

Tf. Xtj'Kor, but I have followed Paley's text, which gives a possible

meanin

2 Reading /CO<TJUO<;, which Hartung alters to

190 EURIPIDES. [L. 108 — 152

THE. Why are they come to us, with suppliant hand out-'
stretched ?

/Era. I know ; but 'tis for them to tell their story, my son.

THE. To thee, in thy mantle muffled, I address my
inquiries ; unveil thy head, let lamentation be, and speak ;
for naught can be achieved save through the utterance of
thy tongue.1

ADR. Victorious prince of the Athenian realm, Theseus, to
thee and to thy city I, a suppliant, come.

THE. What seekest thou ? What need is thine ?

ADR. Dost know how I did lead an expedition to its
ruin ?

THE. Assuredly; thou didst not pass through Hellas,
all in silence.

ADR. There I lost the pick of Argos' sons.

THE. These are the results of that unhappy war.

ADR. I went and craved their bodies from Thebes.

THE. Didst thou rely on heralds, Hermes' servants, in
order to bury them?

ADR. I did ; and even then their slayers said me nay.

THE. Why, what say they to thy just request ?
\/ADR. Say ! Success makes them forget how to bear their
fortune.

THE. Art come to me then for counsel? or wherefore?

ADR. With the wish that thou, O Theseus, shouldst
recover the sons of the Argives.

THE. Where is your Argos now? were its vauntings all in
vain?

ADR. Defeat and ruin are our lot. To thee for aid we
come.

THE. Is this thy own private resolve, or the wish of all
the city?

1 Markland's emendation Trepyg . . . 'tw»>, is certainly tempting.
Uartung adopts it; but Paley and Nauck, whom I have followed,
retain the old reading

THE SUPPLIANTS. 19 1

ADR. The sons of Danaus, one and all, implore thee
to bury the dead.

THE. Why didst lead thy seven armies against Thebes?

ADR. To confer that favour on the husbands of my
daughters twain.

THE. To which of the Argives didst thou give thy
daughters in marriage?

ADR. I made no match for them with kinsmen of my
family.

THE. What! didst give Argive maids to foreign lords?

ADR. Yea, to Tydeus, and to Polynices, who was Theban-
born.

THE. What induced thee to select this alliance?

ADR. Dark riddles of Phoebus stole away my judgment.

THE. What said Apollo to determine the maidens' marriage ?

ADR. That I should give my daughters twain to a wild
boar and a lion.

THE. How dost thou explain the message of the god ?

ADR. One night came to my door two exiles.

THE. The name of each declare; thou art speaking
of both together.

ADR. They fought together, Tydeus with Polynices.

THE. Didst thou give thy daughters to them as to wild
beasts ?

ADR. Yea, for, as they fought, I likened them to those
monsters twain.

THE. Why had they left the borders of their native land
and come to thee?

ADR. Tydeus was exiled for the murder of a kinsman.

THE. Wherefore had the son of CEdipus left Thebes?

ADR. By reason of his father's curse, not to spill his
brother's blood.

THE. Wise no doubt that voluntary exile.

ADR. But those who stayed at home were for injuring
the absent.

J

192 EURIPIDES. [L. 153—218

THE. What! did brother rob brother of his inheritance?

ADR. To avenge this I set out; hence my ruin.

THE. Didst consult seers, and gaze into the flame of
burnt-offerings ?

ADR. Ah me! thou pressest on the very point, wherein
I most did fail.

THE. It seems thy going was not favoured by heaven.

ADR. Worse; I went in spite even of Amphiaraus.

THE. And so heaven lightly turned 1 its face from thee.

ADR. I was carried away by the clamour of younger men.

THE. Thou didst favour courage instead of discretion.

.2 [True; and many a general owes defeat to that.] O
king of Athens, bravest of the sons of Hellas, I blush to
throw myself upon the ground and clasp thy knees, I a
grey-haired king, blest in days gone by; yet needs must
I yield to my misfortunes. I pray thee save the dead;
have pity on my sorrows and on these, the mothers of
the slain, whom hoary eld finds reft of their sons; yet
they endured to journey hither and tread a foreign soil with
aged tottering steps, bearing no embassy to Demeter's
mysteries; only seeking burial for their dead, which lot
should have been theirs, e'en burial by the hands of sons still
in their prime. 3 And 'tis wise in the rich to see the poor man's
poverty, and in the poor man to turn ambitious eyes toward
the rich, that so he may himself indulge a longing for
property; and they, whom fortune frowns not on, should
gaze on misery's presentment; [likewise, who maketh songs
should take a pleasure in their making; for if it be not
so with him, he will in no wise avail to gladden others, if

1 Reiske conjectures aTrtaTpcupriz and omits rr'.

8 Dindorf condemns this line. Paley brackets it as spurious. Nauck
assigns it to Theseus, and retains it.

3 Nauck condemns from line 176 — 183. Reiske, followed by Pale}',
brackets lines 180 — 183. Dindorf considers that the rest of the speech
is not free from suspicion.

THE SUPPLIANTS. 193

himself have sorrow in his home; nay, 'tis not even right to
expect it.] Mayhap thou'lt say, "Why pass the land of
Pelops o'er, and lay this toil on Athens? " This am I bound
to declare. Sparta is cruel, her customs variable; the
other states are small and weak. Thy city alone would be**
able to undertake this labour; for it turns an eye on suffer-
ing, and hath in thee a young and gallant king, for want
whereof to lead their hosts states ere now have often
perished.

CHO. I too, Theseus, urge the same plea to thee; have
pity on my hard fate.

THE. Full oft have I argued out this subject with others.
For there are who say, there is more bad than good in s
human nature, to the which I hold a contrary view, that l v
good o'er bad predominates in man, for if it were not so, we
should not exist. He hath my praise, whoe'er of gods
brought us to live by rule from chaos and from brutishness,
first by implanting reason, and next by giving us a tongue
to declare our thoughts, so as to 2 know the meaning of what
is said, bestowing fruitful crops, and drops of rain from
heaven to make them grow, wherewith to nourish earth's
fruits and to water her lap ; and more than this, protection
from the wintry storm, and means to ward from us the sun-
god's scorching heat ; the art of sailing o'er the sea, so that
we might exchange with one another whatso our countries
lack. And where sight fails us and our knowledge is not
sure, the seer foretells by gazing on the flame, by reading
signs in folds of entrails, or by divination from the flight of
birds. Are we not then too proud, when heaven hath made
such preparation for our life, not to be content therewith ?
But our presumption seeks to lord it over heaven, and in
the pride of our hearts we think we are wiser than the gods.

1 The following two lines are bracketed as spurious by Nauck.

2 Reading wcrre yiyj>w<nc£n'. Jacobs, followed by Nauck and Hartung,
emends into off ytywi'ioxeii>.

O

194 EURIPIDES. [L. 219—287

Methinks thou art even of this number, a son of folly,
seeing that thou, though obedient to Apollo's oracle in giving
thy daughters to strangers, as if gods really existed, yet hast
hurt thy house by mingling the stream of its pure line with
muddy waters; no ! never should the wise man have joined
the stock of just and unjust in one, but should have gotten
prosperous friends for his family. For the deity, confusing
their destinies, doth oft destroy by the sinner's fate him who
never sinned nor committed injustice. Thou didst lead all
Argos forth to battle, though seers proclaimed the will oi
heaven, and then in scorn of them and in violent disregard
of the gods hast ruined thy city, led away by younger men,
such as court distinction, and add war to war unrighteously,
destroying their fellow-citizens ; one aspires to lead an army;
another fain would seize the reins of power and work his
wanton will; a third is bent on gain, careless of any mischief
the people thereby suffer. For there are three ranks of
citizens ; the rich, a useless set, that ever crave for more ;
the poor and destitute, fearful folk, that cherish envy more
than is right, and shoot out grievous stings against the men
who have aught, beguiled as they are by the eloquence of
vicious leaders ; while the class that is midmost of the three
preserveth cities, observing such order as the state ordains.
Shall I then become thy ally ? What fair pretext should I
urge before my countrymen ? Depart in peace ! For why l
shouldst thou, having been ill-advised thyself, seek to drag
our fortune down ?

CHO. He erred ; but with the young men rests this error,
while he may well be pardoned.

ADR. I did not choose thee, king, to judge my affliction,
but 3 came to thee to cure it ; no ! nor if in aught my

1 Reading with Hermann y}f.iu>v T'I del ; for MS. *»j/i«? \ictv.

2 Paley's text here follows Matthke's emendation 19' ei yap /o) for
MS. Wi Bfj' /i/} yup.

3 Dobree rejects this line. Nauck, Matthiae, and Hartung omit it also.

THE SUPPLIANTS. IQ5

fortunes prove me wrong, came I to thee to punish or
correct them, but to seek thy help. But if thou wilt not, I
must be content with thy decision ; for how can I help it ?
Come, aged dames, away ! Yet leave behind you here the
woven leaves of pale green foliage, calling to witness heaven
and earth, Demeter, that fire-bearing goddess, and the sun-
god's light, that our prayers to heaven availed us naught.

CHO 1 who was Pelops' son, and we are of the land

of Pelops and share with thee the blood of ancestors. What
art thou doing? wilt thou betray these suppliant symbols,
and banish from thy land these aged women without the
boon they should obtain ? Do not so; e'en the wild beast
finds a refuge in the rock, the slave in the altars of the gods,
and a state when tempest-tossed cowers to its neighbour's
shelter; for naught in this life of man is blest unto its end.

Rise, hapless one, from the sacred floor of Persephone ;
rise, clasp him by the knees and implore him, " O recover
the bodies of our dead sons, the children that I lost — ah,
woe is me ! — beneath the walls of Cadmus' town." Ah me !
ah me !2 Take me by the hand, poor aged sufferer that I
am, support and guide and raise me up. By thy beard,
kind friend, glory of Hellas, I do beseech thee, as I clasp
thy knees and hands in my misery ; O pity me as I entreat
for my sons with my tale of wretched woe, like 3 some
beggar; nor let my sons lie there unburied in the land of
Cadmus, glad prey for beasts, whilst thou art in thy prime,
I implore thee. See the teardrop tremble in my eye, as
thus I throw me at thy knees to win my children burial.

THE. Mother mine, why weepest thou, drawing o'er thine
eyes thy veil? Is it because thou didst hear their piteous

1 Something is lost here, referring to the claims of relationship. The
sense perhaps is, " thou art thyself related to Pittheus, who was," etc.

2 The words tw pot to yipaiaQ are probably interpolated. Nauck and
Hartung reject them here.

8 Reading y nvaXarav with Musgrave.

196 EURIPIDES. [L. 288 — 357

lamentations? To my own heart it goes. Raise thy
silvered head, weep not where thou sittest at the holy altar
of Demeter.

J&TH. Ah woe !

TUE. Tis not for thee their sorrows to lament.

^ETH. Ye hapless dames !

THE. Thou art not of their company.

^£TH. May I a scheme declare, my son, that shall add to
thy glory and the state's ?

THE. Yea, for oft even from women's lips issue wise
counsels.

^ETH. Yet the word, that lurks within my heart, makes me
hesitate.

THE. Shame ! to hide from friends good counsel.

^ETH. Nay then, I will not hold my peace to blame myself
hereafter for having now kept silence to my shame, nor will
I forego my honourable proposal, from the common fear
that it is useless for women to give good advice. First, my
son, I exhort thee give good heed to heaven's will, lest from
slighting it thou suffer shipwreck ; [ 1 for in this one single
point thou failest, though well-advised in all else.] Further,
I would have patiently endured, had it not been my duty to
venture somewhat for injured folk ; and this, my son, it is
that brings thee now thy honour, and causes me no fear to
urge that thou shouldst use 2 thy power to make men of
violence, who prevent the dead from receiving their meed of
burial and funeral rites, perform this bounden duty, and
check those who would confound the customs of all Hellas;
for this.it is that holds men's states together, — strict obser-
vance of the laws. And some, no doubt, will say, 'twas
cowardice made thee stand aloof in terror, when thou
mightest have won for thy city a crown of glory, and, though
thou didst encounter a savage swine,3 labouring for a sorry

1 Probably spurious. 2 Line 310 is rejected by Nauck.

3 The monster Phoea, which infested the neighbourhood of Corinth.

THE SUPPLIANTS. 197

task, yet when the time came for thee to face the helmet
and pointed spear, and do thy best, thou wert found to be a
coward. Nay ! do not so if thou be son of mine. Dost see
how fiercely thy country looks on its revilers when they
mock her for want of counsel ? Yea, for in her toils she
groweth greater. But states, whose policy is dark and
cautious, have their sight darkened by their carefulness.
My son, wilt thou not go succour the dead and these poor
women in their need ? I have no fears for thee, starting as
thou dost with right upon thy side ; and although I see the
prosperity of Cadmus' folk, still am I confident they will
throw a different die ; for the deity reverses all things
again.

CHO. Ah! best of friends, right well hast thou pleaded for
me and for Adrastus, and hence my joy is doubled.

THE. Mother, the words that I have spoken are his fair
deserts, and I have declared my opinion of the counsels
that ruined him ; yet do I perceive the truth of thy warning
to me, that it ill suits my character to shun dangers. For
by a long and glorious career have I displayed this my habit
among Hellenes, of ever punishing the wicked. Wherefore
I cannot refuse toil. For what will spiteful tongues say of
me, when thou, my mother, who more than all others fearest
for my safety, bidst me undertake this enterprise ? Yea, I
will go about this business and rescue the dead by words
persuasive ; or, failing that, the spear forthwith shall decide
this issue, nor will heaven grudge me this. But I require
the whcle city's sanction also, which my mere wish will
ensure ; still by communicating the proposal to them I shall
find the people better disposed. For them I made supreme,
when I set this city free, by giving all an equal vote. So I
will take Adrastus as a text for what I have to say and go to
their assembly, and when I have won them to these views, I
will return hither, after collecting a picked band of young
Athenians ; and then remaining under arms I will send a

EURIPIDES. [L. 358—430

message to Creon, begging the bodies of the dead. But
do ye, aged ladies, remove from my mother your holy
wreaths, that I may take her by the hand and conduct her
to the house of JEgeus; for a wretched son is he who
rewards not his parents by service ; for, when he hath con-
ferred on them the best he hath, he in his turn from his own
sons receives all such service as he gave to them.

CHO. O Argos, home of steeds, my native land ! ye have
heard with your ears these words, the king's pious will
toward the gods in the sight of great Pelasgia and through-
out Argos. May he reach the goal ! yea, and triumph o'er
my sorrows, rescuing the gory corpse, the mother's idol, and
making the land of Inachus his friend by helping her. For
pious toil is a fair ornament to cities, and carries with it a
grace that never wastes away. What will the city decide, I
wonder? Will it conclude a friendly truce with me, and
shall we obtain burial for our sons ? Help, O help, city of
Pallas, the mother's cause, that so they may not pollute the
laws of all mankind. Thou, I know, dost reverence right,
and to injustice dealest out defeat, a protection at all times
to the afflicted.

THE. (to a herald?) Forasmuch as with this thy art thou
hast ever served the state and me by carrying my proclama-
tions far and wide, so now cross Asopus and the waters of
Ismenus, and declare this message to the haughty king of the
Cadmeans: "Theseus, thy neighbour, one who well may
win the boon he craves, begs as a favour thy permission to
bury the dead, winning to thyself thereby the love of all the
Erechthidae." And if they will acquiesce, come back again,
but if they hearken not, thy second message runneth thus,
they may expect my warrior host ; for at the sacred fount of
Callichorus my army camps in readiness and is being re-
viewed. Moreover, the city gladly of its own accord under-
took this enterprise, when it perceived my wish. Ha ! who
comes hither to interrupt my speech? A Theban herald,

THE SUPPLIANTS. 199

it seems, though I am not sure thereof. Stay ; haply he
may save thee thy trouble. For by his coming he meets my
purpose half-way.

HER. Who is the despot of this land? To whom must I
announce the message of Creon, who rules o'er the land of
Cadmus, since Eteocles was slain by the hand of his brother
Polynices, at the sevenfold gates of Thebes ?

THE. Sir stranger, thou hast made a false beginning to thy
speech, in seeking here a despot. For this city is not ruled
by one man, but is free. The people rule in succession year
by year, allowing no preference to wealth, but the poor man
shares equally with the rich.

HER. Thou givest me here an advantage, as it might be
in a game of draughts l ; for the city, whence I come, is ruled
by one man only, not by the mob ; none there puffs up the
citizens with specious words, and for his own advantage
twists them this way or that, — one moment dear to them and
lavish of his favours, the next a bane to all ; and yet by
fresh calumnies of others he hides his former failures and
escapes punishment. Besides, how shall the people, if it
cannot form true judgments, be able rightly to direct the
state ? Nay, 'tis time, not haste, that affords a better under-
standing. A poor hind, granted he be not all unschooled,
would still be unable from his toil to give his mind to
politics. Verily 2 the better sort count it no healthy sign
when the worthless man obtains a reputation by beguiling
with words the populace, though aforetime he was naught.

THE. This herald is a clever fellow, a dabbler in the art
of talk. But since thou hast thus entered the lists with me,
listen awhile, for 'twas thou didst challenge a discussion.
Naught is more hostile to a city than a despot ; where he
is, there are in the first place no laws common to all, but one

1 Possibly referring to a habit of allowing the \veaker player so many
moves or points.

2 Kirchhoff considers lines 423 to 425 spurious,

200 EURIPIDES. [L. 431— 495

man is tyrant, in whose keeping and in his alone the law
resides, and in that case equality is at an end. But when
the laws are written down, rich and poor alike have equal
justice, and l it is open to the weaker to use the same language
to the prosperous when he is reviled by him, and the weaker
prevails over the stronger if he have justice on his side.
Freedom's mark is also seen in this : " Who 2 hath whole-
some counsel to declare unto the state ? " And he who
chooses to do so gains renown, while he, who hath no wish,
remains silent. What greater equality can there be in a city?
Again, where the people are absolute rulers of the land, they
rejoice in having a reserve of youthful citizens, while a king
counts 3 this a hostile element, and strives to slay the leading
men, all such as he deems discreet, for he feareth for his
power. How then can a city remain stable, where one cuts
short all * enterprise and mows down the young like meadow-
flowers in spring-time? What boots it to acquire wealth
and livelihood for children, merely 5 to add to the tyrant's
substance by one's toil? Why train up virgin daughters
virtuously in our homes to gratify a tyrant's whim, whenso
he will, and cause tears to those who rear them ? May my
life end if ever my children are to be wedded by violence !
This bolt I launch in answer to thy words. Now say, why
art thou come ? what needest thou of this land ? Had not
thy city sent thee, to thy cost hadst thou come with thy
outrageous utterances ; for it is the herald's duty to tell the
message he is bidden and hie him back in haste. Hence-

1 Nauck omits lines 435, 436, as they are not given by Stoboeus in
quoting the passage.

2 A reference to the question put by the herald in the Athenian
tKK\t]aia, T/e ayopivsiv povXtrai ; It here serves as a marked character-
istic of democracy.

3 The words ix^por . . . dpiarovc; are regarded by Nauck as spurious.

4 i.e. rdX/iaf, for which Prinz suggests

5 Kirchhoff rejects this line.

THE SUPPLIANTS. 2OE

forth let Creon send to my city some other messenger less
talkative than thee.

CHO. Look you ! how insolen-t the villains are, when
Fortune is kind to them, just as if it would be well with them
for ever.

HER. Now will I speak. On these disputed points hold
thou this view, but I the contrary. So I and all the people
of Cadmus forbid thee to admit Adrastus to this land, but if
he is here, drive him forth in disregard of the holy suppliant1
bough he bears, ere sinks yon blazing sun, and attempt not
violently to take up the dead, seeing thou hast naught to do
with the city of Argos. And if thou wilt hearken to me,
thou shall bring thy barque of state into port unharmed by
the billows ; but if not, fierce shall the surge of battle be,
that we and our allies shall raise. Take good thought, nor,
angered at my words, because forsooth thou rulest thy city
with freedom, return a vaunting answer from 2 thy feebler
means. Hope is man's curse ; many a state hath it involved
in strife, by leading them into excessive rage. For whenso
the city has to vote on the question of war, no man ever
takes his own death into account, but shifts this misfortune
on to his neighbour ; but if death had been before their eyes
when they were giving their votes, Hellas would ne'er have
rushed to her doom in mad desire for battle. And yet
each man amongst us knows which of the two to prefer, the
good or ill, and how much better peace is for mankind than
war, — peace, the Muses' chiefest friend, the foe of sorrow,
whose joy is in glad throngs of children, and its delight in
prosperity. These are the blessings we cast away and
wickedly embark on war, man enslaving his weaker brother,
and cities following suit. Now thou art helping our foes
even after death, trying to rescue and bury those whom their

1 Reading \Krfipta with Nauck.

8 Hartung's emendation of this doubtful expression is 'tv

202 EURIPIDES. [L. 496 — 566

own acts of insolence haye ruined. Verily then it would
seem Capaneus was unjustly blasted by the thunderbolt and
charred upon the ladder he had raised against our gates,
swearing he would sack our town, whether the god would or
no; nor should the yawning earth have snatched away the
seer,1 opening wide her mouth to take his chariot and its
horses in, nor should the other chieftains be stretched at our
gates, their skeletons to atoms crushed 'neath boulders.
Either boast thy wit transcendeth that of Zeus, or else allow
that gods are right to slay the ungodly. The wise should
love their children first, next their parents and country,
whose fortunes it behoves them to increase rather than
break down. Rashness in a leader, as in a pilot, causeth
shipwreck ; who knoweth when to be quiet is a wise man.
Yea and this too is bravery, even forethought.

CHO. The punishment Zeus hath inflicted was surely
enough ; there was no need to heap this wanton insult
on us.

ADR. Abandoned wretch !

THE. Peace, Adrastus ! say no more; set not thy words
before mine, for 'tis not to thee this fellow is come with his
message, but to me, and I must answer him. Thy first
assertion will I answer first : I am not aware that Creon is
my lord and master, or that his power outweigheth mine,
that so he should compel Athens to act on this wise ; nay !
for then would the tide of time have to flow backward, if we
are to be ordered about, as he thinks. 'Tis not I who
choose this war, seeing that I did not even join these
warriors to go unto the land of Cadmus ; but still I claim to
bury the fallen dead, not injuring any state nor yet intro-
ducing murderous strife, but preserving the law of all Hellas.
What is not well in this ? If ye suffered aught from the
Argives — lo ! they are dead ; ye took a splendid vengeance
on your foes and covered them with shame, and now your
1 i.e. Amphiaraus, who disappeared in a chasm of the earth.

THE SUPPLIANTS. 203

right is at an end. Let1 the dead now be buried in the
earth, and each element return 2 to the place from whence it
came to the body, the breath to the air, the body to the
ground ; for in no wise did we get it for our own, but to,
live our life in, and after that its mother earth must take it
back again. Dost think 'tis Argos thou art injuring in
refusing burial to the dead ? Nay ! all Hellas shares herein,
if a man rob the dead of their due and keep them from the
tomb ; for, if this law be enacted, it will strike dismay into
the stoutest hearts. And art thou come to cast dire threats
at me, while thy own folk are afraid of giving burial to the
dead ? What is your fear ? Think you they will undermine
your land in their graves, or that they will beget children in
the womb of earth, from whom shall rise an avenger ? A
silly waste of words, in truth it was, to show your fear of
paltry groundless terrors. Go, triflers, learn the lesson of
human misery ; our life is made up of struggles ; some men
there be that find their fortune soon, others have to wait,
•while some at once are blest. Fortune lives a dainty life ;
to her the wretched pays his court and homage to win her
smile ; her likewise doth the prosperous man extol, for fear
the favouring gale may leave him. These lessons should
we take to heart, to bear with moderation, free from wrath,
our wrongs, and do naught to hurt a whole city. What
then? Let us, who will the pious deed perform, bury the
corpses of the slain. Else is the issue clear ; I will go and
bury them by force. For never shall it be proclaimed
through Hellas that heaven's ancient law was set at naught,
when it devolved on me and the city of Pandion.

CHO. Be of good cheer ; for if thou preserve the light of
justice, thou shalt escape many a charge that men might
urge.

HER. Wilt thou that I sum up in brief all thou wouldst say?

1 Nauck regards these lines 531 to 536 as an interpolation.
a Restoring dirsXQtiv from Stobaeus (Hartung).

204 EURIPIDES. [L. 567—625

THE. Say what thou wilt ; for thou art not silent as
it is.

HER. Thou shalt never take the sons of Argos from our
land.

THE. Hear, then, my answer too to that, if so thou wilt.

HER. I will hear thee ; not that I wish it, but I must give
thee thy turn.

THE. I will bury the dead, when from Asopus' land I
have removed them.

HER. First must thou adventure somewhat in the front of
war.

THE. Many an enterprise and of a different kind have I
ere this endured.

HER. Wert thou then begotten of thy sire to cope with
every foe?

THE. Ay, with all wanton villains ; virtue I punish not.

HER. To meddle is aye thy wont and thy city's too.

THE. Hence her enterprise on many a field hath won her
frequent success.

HER. Come then, that the warriors of the dragon-crop
may catch thee in our city.

THE. What furious warrior-host could spring from dragon's
seed?

HER. Thou shalt learn that to thy cost. As yet thou art
young and rash.

THE. Thy boastful speech stirs not my heart at all to
rage. Yet get thee gone from my land, taking with thee the
idle words thou broughtest ; for we are making no advance.
{Exit HERALD.] Tis time for all to start, each stout foot-
rnan, and whoso mounts the car ; 'tis time the bit, dripping
with foam, should urge the charger on toward the land of
Cadmus. For I will march in person to the seven gates
thereof with the sharp sword in my hand, and be myself my
herald. But thee, Adrastus, I bid stay, nor blend with
mine thy fortunes, for I will take my own good star to lead

THE SUPPLIANTS. 2O5

my host, a chieftain famed in famous deeds of arms. One
thing alone I need, the favour of all gods that reverence
right, for the presence of these things insures victory. For
their valour availeth men naught, unless they have the god's
goodwill. [Exit THESEUS.

IST HALF-CHO. Unhappy mothers of those hapless chiefs!
How wildly in my heart pale fear stirs up alarm !

2ND HALF-CHO. What is this new cry thou utterest ?

IST HALF-CHO. I fear the issue of the strife, whereto the
hosts of Pallas march.

2ND HALF-CHO. Dost speak of issues of the sword, or
interchange of words ?

IST HALF-CHO. That last were gain indeed; but if the
carnage of battle, fighting, and the noise of beaten breasts
again be heard in the land, what, alas ! will be said of me,
who am the cause thereof?

2ND HALF-CHO. Yet may fate again bring low the brilliant
victor ; 'tis this brave thought that twines about my heart.

IST HALF-CHO. Thou speak'st of the gods as if they were
just.

2ND HALF-CHO. For who but they allot whate'er betides?

IST HALF-CHO. I see many a contradiction in their deal-
ings with men.

2ND HALF-CHO. The former fear hath warped thy judg-
ment. Vengeance calls vengeance forth ; slaughter calls
for slaughter, but the gods give respite from affliction,
holding in their own hands each thing's allotted end.

IST HALF-CHO. Would I could reach yon plains with tur-
rets crowned, leaving Callichorus, fountain of the goddess !

2ND HALF-CHO. O that some god would give me wings
to fly to the city of rivers twain !

IST HALF-CHO. So might'st thou see and know the
fortunes of thy friends.

2ND HALF-CHO. What fate, what issue there awaits the
valiant monarch of this land ?

206 EURIPIDES. [L. 626 — 695

IST HALF-CHO. Once more do we invoke the gods we
called upon before; yea, in our fear this is our first and
chiefest trust.

2ND HALF-CHO. O Zeus, father to the child the heifer-
mother bore in days long past, that daughter of Inachus !

IST HALF-CHO. O be gracious, I pray, and champion
this city !

2ND HALF-CHO. 'Tis thy own darling, thy own settler in
the city of Argos that I l am striving to rescue for the funeral
pyre from outrageous insult.

. MES. Ladies, I bring you tidings of great joy, myself
escaped — for I was taken prisoner in the battle which cost
those chieftains seven their lives near Dirce's fount — to bear
the news of Theseus' victory. But I will save thee tedious
questioning; I was the servant of Capaneus, whom Zeus
with scorching bolt to ashes burnt.

CHO. Friend of friends, fair thy news of thy own return,
nor less the news about Theseus ; and if the host of Athens,
too, is safe, welcome will all thy message be.

MES. 'Tis safe, and all hath happened as I would it had
befallen Adrastus and his Argives, whom from Inachus he
led, to march against the city of the Cadmeans.

CHO. How did the son of ^Egeus and his fellow-warriors
raise their trophy to Zeus? Tell us, for thou wert there
and canst gladden us who were not.

MES. Bright shone the sun, one levelled line of light,
upon the world, as by Electra's gate I stood to watch, from
a turret with a far outlook. And lo ! I saw the host in three
divisions, deploying its mail-clad warriors on the high ground
by the banks of Ismenus; this last I heard ;2 and with them
was the king himself, famous son of ^Egeus ; his own men,

1 Reading iKKOfii^ofint, MS., but Musgrave's emendation, tKKoyut£s
is very probably right.

2 The words wt; (*iv 5*' Xoyoj have been suspected, and wg 't
\6\ov(; suggested.

THE SUPPLIANTS. 2O?

natives of old Cecropia, were ranged upon the right ; while
on the left, hard by the fountain of Ares, were the dwellers
by the sea, harnessed spearmen they ; on either wing were
posted cavalry, in equal numbers, and chariots were stationed
in the shelter of Amphion's holy tomb. Meantime, the folk
of Cadmus set themselves before the walls, placing in the
rear the bodies for which they fought. Horse to horse, and
car to car stood ranged. Then did the herald of Theseus cry
aloud to all : " Be still, ye folk ! hush, ye ranks of Cadmus,
hearken ! we are come to fetch the bodies of the slain, wish-
ing to bury them in observance of the universal law of Hellas ;
no wish have we to lengthen out the slaughter." Not a word
would Creon let his herald answer back, but there he stood
in silence under arms. Then did the drivers of the four-horse
cars begin the fray; on, past each other they drave their
chariots, bringing the warriors at their sides up into line.
Some fought with swords, some wheeled the horses back
to the fray again for those they drove.1 Now when Phor-
bas, who captained the cavalry of the Erechthidae, saw
the thronging chariots, he and they who had the charge of
the Theban horse met hand to hand, and by turns were
victors and vanquished. The many horrors happening
there I saw, not merely heard about, for I was at the spot
where the chariots and their riders met and fought, but which
to tell of first I know not, — the clouds of dust that mounted
to the sky, the warriors tangled in the reins and dragged 2
this way and that, the streams of crimson gore, when men
fell dead, or when, from shattered chariot-seats, they tumbled
headlong to the ground, and, mid the splinters of their cars,
gave up the ghost. But Creon, when he marked our cavalry's
success3 on one wing, caught up a shield and rushed into the

1 Reading with Hartung av9i£ av

2 Nauck is of opinion that something has fallen out after line 689,
The Greek, as it stands, is certainly open to suspicion.

3 Paley retains VIKWVTCI, but Valckenaer's {IKOVTO. is a good sugges-
tion, i.e. " their army yielding to our cavalry."

2O8 EURIPIDES'. [L. 696 — 760

fray, ere that despondency should seize his men ; but not for
that did Theseus recoil in fear; no ! snatching up at once his
glittering harness he hied him on. And the twain, clashing
their shields together as they met in the midst of the assem-
bled host, were dealing death and courting it, shouting loudly
each to his fellow the battle-cry: "Slay, and with thy
spear strike home against the sons of Erechtheus." Fierce
foes to cope with were the warriors whom the dragon's teeth
to manhood reared ; so fierce, they broke our left wing,
albeit theirs was routed by our right and put to flight, so
that the struggle was evenly balanced. Here again our
-chief deserved all praise, for this success was not the only
advantage he gained ; no ! next he sought that part of his army
which was wavering ; and loud he called to them, that the
earth rang again, " My sons, if ye cannot restrain the earth-
born warriors' stubborn spear, the cause of Pallas is lost."
His word inspired new courage in all the Danaid l host.
Therewith himself did seize a fearsome mace, weapon of
Epidaurian warfare, and swung it to and fro, and with that
club, as with a sickle, he shore off necks and heads and
helmets thereupon. Scarce even then they turned them-
selves to fly. For joy cried I, and danced and clapped my
hands ; while to the gates they ran. Throughout the town
echoed the shrieks of young and old, as they crowded the
temples in terror. But Theseus, when he might have
come inside the walls, held back his men, for he had not
come, said he, to sack the town, but to ask for the bodies
of the dead. Such the general men should choose,
one who shows his bravery in danger, yet hates the pride of
those that in their hour of fortune lose the bliss they might
have enjoyed, through seeking to scale the ladder's topmost
step.

CHO. Now do I believe in the gods after seeing this

1 Paley, Aavai^wr. Nauck, ~Kticpo7ridun>^ As applied to Athenians,
the latter title is preferable. Musgrave,

THE SUPPLIANTS. 2CK)

unexpected day, and I feel my woes are lighter now that
•rhese have paid their penalty.

ADR. O Zeus, why do men assert the wisdom of the
wretched human race ? On thee we all depend, and all
we do is only what thou listest. We thought our Argos
irresistible, ourselves a young and lusty host, and so when
Eteocles was for making terms, in spite of his fair offer we
would not accept them, and so we perished. Then in their
turn those foolish folk of Cadmus, to fortune raised, like
some beggar with his newly-gotten wealth, waxed wanton,
and, waxing so, were ruined in their turn. Ye foolish sons
of men ! who strain your bow like men who shoot beyond
their mark, and only by suffering many evils as ye deserve,
though deaf to friends, yet yield to circumstances ; ye cities
likewise, though ye might by parley end your mischief, yet
ye choose the sword instead of reason to settle all disputes.
But wherefore these reflections ? This I fain would learn,1
the way thou didst escape ; and after that I will ask thee of
the rest.

MES. During the uproar which prevailed in the city owing
to the battle, I passed the gates, just as the host had entered
them.

ADR. Are ye bringing the bodies, for the which the strife
arose ?

MES. Ay, each of the seven chiefs who led their famous
hosts.

ADR. What sayest thou ? the rest who fell — say, where are
they?

MES. They have found burial in the dells of Cithaeron.

ADR. On this or that side of the mount ? And who did
bury them ?

MES. Theseus buried them 'neath the shadow of Eleu-
therae's cliff.

ADR. Where didst thou leave the dead he hath not
buried ?

p

210 EURIPIDES. [L. 761— 821

MES. Not far away ; earnest haste makes every goal look
close.

ADR. No 'doubt in sorrow slaves would gather them from
the carnage.

MES. Slaves ! not one of them was set to do this toil.

ADR. . . . .l

MES. Thou wouldst say so, hadst thou been there to see
his loving tendance of the dead.

ADR. Did he himself wa^h the bloody wounds of the
hapless youths?

MES. Ay, and strewed their biers and wrapped them in.
their shrouds.

ADR. An awful burden 2 this, involving some disgrace.

MES, Why, what disgrace to men are their fellows'
sorrows ?

ADR. Ah me ! how much rather had I died with them !

MES. Tis vain to weep and move to tears these women.

ADR. Methinks 'tis they who give the lesson. Enough 3 of
that ! My hands I lift at meeting of the dead, and pour
forth a tearful dirge to Hades, calling on my friends, whose
loss I mourn in wretched solitude ; for this one thing, when
once 'tis spent, man cannot recover, the breath of life, though
he knoweth ways to get his wealth again.

CHO. Joy is here and sorrow too, — for the state fair fame,
and for our captains double meed of honour. Bitter for me
it is to see the limbs of my dead sons, and yet a welcome
sight withal, because I shall behold the unexpected day
after sorrow's cup was full. Would that Father Time had
kept me unwed from my youth up e'en till now when I

1 Hermann detected the loss of a line here. Subsequent editors have
followed his hint.

2 Reading ovv for f\v (Elmsley).

3 Elmsley reads dXX' efyt', sirapw for MS. aXX' cTcr, alpa). Some
correction of the kind does seem necessary, for the dead bodies are not
noticed as arriving till later.

THE SUPPLIANTS. 211

am old ! What need had I of children ? Methinks I
should not have suffered excessively, had I never borne the
marriage-yoke ; but now I have my sorrow full in view, the
loss of children dear.

Lo ! I see the bodies of the fallen youths. Woe is me !
would I could join these children in their death and descend
to Hades with them !

ADR. Mothers, raise the wail for the dead departed ; cry
in answer when ye hear my note of woe.

CHO. My sons, my sons ! O bitter words for loving
mothers to address to you ! To thee, my lifeless child, I call.

ADR. Woe ! woe !

CHO. Ah me, my sufferings !

ADR. Alas !

CHO l

ADR. We have endured, alas ! —

CHO. Sorrows most grievous.

ADR. O citizens of Argos ! do ye not behold my fate ?

CHO. They see thee, and me the hapless mother, reft of
her children.

ADR. Bring near the blood-boltered corpses of those
hapless chiefs, foully slain by foes unworthy, with whom lay
the decision of the contest.

CHO. Let me embrace and hold my children to my bosom
in my enfolding arms.

ADR. There, there ! thou hast —

CHO. Sorrows "heavy enough to bear.

ADR. Ah me !

CHO. Thy groans mingle with those of their parents.3

ADR. Hear me.

CHO. O'er both of us thou dost lament

ADR. Would God the Theban ranks had laid me dead in
the dust !

1 A lacuna in the MS.

3 Reading with Hartung roi£ rtKovc? 6/no •; Xtyi if.

212 EURIPIDES. [L. 822 — 896

CHO. Oh that I had ne'er been wedded to a husband !

ADR. Ah ! hapless mothers, behold this sea of troubles !

CHO. Our nails have ploughed our cheeks in furrows,
and o'er our heads have we strewn ashes.

ADR. Ah me ! ah me ! Oh that earth's floor would swallow
me, or the whirlwind snatch me away, or Zeus's flaming bolt
descend upon my head !

CHO. Bitter the marriages thou didst witness, bitter the
oracle of Phoebus ! The curse of CEdipus, fraught with
sorrow, after desolating l his house, is come on thee.

THE.2 I meant to question thee when thou wert venting
thy lamentations to the host, but I will let it pass; yet,
though I dropped the matter then and left it alone, I now
do ask Adrastus, " Of what lineage sprang those youths, to
shine so bright in chivalry ? Tell it to our younger citizens
of thy fuller wisdom, for thou art skilled to know. Myself
beheld their daring deeds, too high for words to tell, where-
by they thought to capture Thebes. One question will I
spare thee, lest I provoke thy laughter ; the foe that each
of them encountered in the fray, the spear from which each
received his death-wound. These be idle tales alike for
those who hear or him who speaks, that any man amid the
fray, when clouds of darts are hurtling before his eyes,
should declare for certain who each champion is. I could
not ask such questions, nor yet believe those who dare
assert the like ; for when a man is face to face with the foe,
he scarce can see even that which 'tis his bounden duty to
observe.

ADR. Hearken then. For in giving this task to me thou

1 For the unintelligible tyrifiaq of the MS. Hermann conjectured
tp»)/itt o1' which is here followed.

2 There is some corruption in the three following lines. Nauck's
tlnna for the words *e TO. aa ye makes it possible to extract a meaning,
but further emendation is needed. Nauck would omit the word arpartf
in 1. 838 and the whole of 1. 839, except the word yoovc.

THE SUPPLIANTS. 213

findest a willing eulogist of friends, whose praise I would
declare in all truth and sincerity. Dost see yon corpse by
Zeus's bolt transfixed ? That is Capaneus ; though he had
ample wealth, yet was he the last to boast of his prosperity ;
nor would he ever vaunt himself above a poorer neighbour,
but shunned the man whose sumptuous board had puffed him
up too high and made him scorn mere competence, for he
held that virtue lies not in greedy gluttony, but that moderate
means suffice. True friend was he, alike to present or to
absent friends the same ; of such the number is not great.
His was a guileless character, a courteous address, that left
no promise unperformed either towards his own household
or his fellow-citizens. The next I name is Eteocles ; a
master he of other kinds of excellence ; young, nor richly
dowered with store, yet high in honour in the Argive land.
And though his friends oft offered gifts of gold, he would
not have it in his house, to make his character its slave by
taking wealth's ycke upon him. Not his city, but those
that sinned against her did he hate, for a city is no wise to
be blamed if it get an evil name by reason of an evil
governor. Such another was Hippomedon, third of all this
band; from his very boyhood he refrained from turning
towards the allurements of the Muses, to lead a life of ease ;
his home was in the fields, and gladly would he school his
nature to hardships with a view to manliness, aye hasting to
the chase, rejoicing in his steeds or straining of his bow,
because he would make himself of use unto his state. Next
behold the huntress Atalanta's son, Parthenopaeus, a youth
of peerless beauty; from Arcady he came even to the
streams of Inachus, and in Argos spent his boyhood. There,
when he grew to man's estate, first, as is the duty of strangers
settled in another land, he showed no pique or jealousy
against the state, became no quibbler, chiefest source of
annoyance citizen or stranger can give, but took his stand
amid the host, and fought for Argos as he were her own son,

214 EURIPIDES. [L, 897 — 967

glad at heart whenso the city prospered, deeply grieved
if e'er reverses came ; many l a lover though he had midst
men and maids, yet was he careful to avoid offence. Of
Tydeus next the lofty praise I will express in brief; no
brilliant spokesman he, but a clever craftsman in the art of
war, with many a shrewd 2 device ; inferior in judgment to
his brother Meleager, yet through his warrior skill lending
his name to equal praise, for he had found in arms a perfect
science ; his was an ambitious nature, a spirit rich in store
of deeds, with words less fully dowered. From this account
then wonder not, Theseus, that they dared to die before the
towers ; for noble nurture carries honour with it, and every
man, when once he hath practised virtue, scorns the name of
villain. Courage may be learnt, for even a babe doth
learn to speak and hear things it cannot comprehend ; and
whatso'er a child 3 hath learnt, this it is his wont to treasure
up till he is old. So train up your children in a virtuous
way.

CHO. Alas ! my son, to sorrow I bare thee and carried
thee within my womb, enduring the pangs of travail; but
now Hades takes the fruit of all my hapless toil, and I that
had a son am left, ah me ! with none to nurse my age.

THE. As for the noble son of CEcleus, him, while yet he
lived, the gods snatched hence to the bowels of the earth,
and his chariot too, manifestly blessing him ; while I myself
may truthfully tell the praises of the son of CEdipus, that is,
Polynices, for he was my guest-friend ere he left the town
of Cadmus and crossed to Argos in voluntary exile. But
dost thou know what I would have thee do in this matter ?

ADR. I know naught save this, — to yield obedience to
thy hests.

THE. As for yon Capaneus, stricken by the bolt of Zeus^-

1 Dindorf regards this line as an interpolation.

2 Valckenaer Gotyoq for MS. tro^a. Porson condemns the line.

3 Reading irai^ with Valckenaer.

THE SUPPLIANTS. 21$

ADR. Wilt bury him apart as a consecrated corpse ?

THE. Even so ; but all the rest on one funeral pyre.

ADR. Where wilt thou set the tomb apart for him ?

THE. Here near this temple have I builded him a
sepulchre.

ADR. Thy thralls forthwith must undertake this toil.

THE. Myself will look to those others; let the biers
advance.

ADR. Approach your sons, unhappy mothers.

THE. This thy proposal, Adrastus, is anything but good.

ADR. Must not the mothers touch their sons ?

THE. It would kill them to see how they are altered.

ADR. ' Tis bitter, truly, to see the dead even l at the
moment of death.

THE. Why then wilt thou add fresh grief to them ?

ADR. Thou art right. Ye * needs must patiently abide,
for the words of Theseus are good. But when we have
committed them unto the flames, ye shall collect their
bones. O wretched sons of men ! Why do ye get you
weapons and bring slaughter on one another ? Cease there-
from, give o'er your toiling, and in mutual peace keep safe
your cities. Short is the span of life, so 'twere best to run
its course as lightly as we may, from trouble free.

CHO. No more a happy mother I, with children blest ; no
more I share, among Argive women, who have sons, their
happy lot ; nor any more will Artemis in the hour of travail
kindly greet these childless mothers. Most dreary is my
life, and like some wandering cloud I drift before the
howling blast. The seven noblest sons in Argos once we
had, we seven hapless mothers ; but now my sons are dead,
I have no child, and on me steals old age in piteous wise,

1 The MS. reading, \afjia TIJJ ri\ft vfKpoi> has been conjecturally
altered by Toup into alfia K-wrtt\a'' vtupuiv which bold emendation has
been followed by several editors. Hartung has X

2 Nauck brackets from fiii-ttr — 6;j<rsv£ as suspicious.

2l6 EURIPIDES. [L. 968— 1053

nor 'mongst the dead nor 'mongst the living do I count l
myself, having as it were a lot apart from these. Tears
alone are left me ; in my house sad memories of my son are
stored ; mournful tresses shorn from his head, chaplets that
he wore, libations for the dead departed, and songs, but not
such as golden-haired Apollo welcometh ; and when I wake
to weep, my tears will ever drench the folds of my robe
upon my bosom. Ah ! there I see the sepulchre ready
e'en now for Capaneus, his consecrated tomb, and the
votive offerings Theseus gives unto the dead outside the
shrine, and nigh yon lightning-smitten chief I see his noble
bride, Evadne, daughter of King Iphis. Wherefore stands
she on the towering rock, which o'ertops this temple,
advancing along yon path ?

EVA. What light, what radiancy did the sun-god's car
dart forth, and the moon athwart the firmament, while
round her in the gloom swift stars 2 careered, in the day that
the city of Argos raised the stately chant of joy at my
wedding, in honour of my marriage with mail-clad Capaneus?
Now from my home in frantic haste with frenzied mind
I rush to join thee, seeking to share with thee the fire's
bright flame and the self-same tomb, to rid me of my
weary life in Hades' halls, and of the pains of existence ;
yea, for 'tis the sweetest end to share the death of those
we ^ve, if only fate will sanction it.

CHO. Behold yon pyre, which thou art overlooking, nigh
thereto, set apart for Zeus ! There is thy husband's body,
vanquished by the blazing bolt.

EVA. Life's goal I now behold from my station here;
may fortune aid me in my headlong leap from this rock
in honour's cause, down into the fire below, to mix my ashes

1 Dindorf, followed by Nauck, reads xptvofjitva.

* None of the proposed emendations of this corrupt passage are con-
vincing. Hermann's XO/UTTCU 6' uicv9ooi viv anQnnrtvovfft is here followed.
Nauck has XafnraS' 'iv' wicvGoai wfufxti tirirevovai.

THE SUPPLIANTS. 217

in the ruddy blaze with my husband's, to lay me side by
side with him, there in the couch of Persephone ; for ne'er
will I, to save my life, prove untrue to thee where thou liest
in thy grave. Away with life and marriage too ! Oh ! a may
my children live to see the dawn of a fairer, happier
wedding-day in Argos ! May loyalty inspire the husband's
heart, his nature fusing with his wife's !

GHO. Lo ! the aged Iphis, thy father, draweth nigh to
hear thy startling scheme, which yet he knows not and will
grieve to learn.

IPH. Unhappy child! lo! I am come, a poor old man,
with twofold sorrow in my house to mourn, that I may
carry to his native land the corpse of my son Eteocles, slain
by the Theban spear, and further in quest of my daughter
who rushed headlong from the house, for she was the wife
of Capaneus and longed with him to die. Ere this she was
well guarded in my house, but, when I took the watch away
in the present troubles, she escaped. But I feel sure that
she is here ; tell me if ye have seen her.

EVA. Why question them ? Lo, here upon the rock,
father, o'er the pyre of Capaneus, like some bird I hover
lightly, in my wretchedness.

IPH. What wind hath blown thee hither, child ? Whither
away ? Why didst thou pass the threshold of my house and
seek this land ?

EVA. It would but anger thee to hear what I intend, and
so I fain would keep thee ignorant, my father.

IPH. What ! hath not thy own father a right to know ?

EVA. Thou wouldst not wisely judge my intention.

1 The following verses are corrupt almost beyond hope of emendation,
nor is it quite clear what the poet intended. By reading fai'ilu-, as
Paley suggests, with riwoiaiv ifiol^ and supplying the hiatus by e«>/ c , it
is possible to extract an intelligible sense, somewhat different, however,
from that proposed by Hermann or Hartung, and only offered here for
want of a better.

2l8 EURIPIDES. [L. 1054 — 1 1 12

I PH. Why dost thou deck thyself in that apparel?

EVA. A purport strange this robe conveys, father.

I PH. Thou hast no look of mourning for thy lord.

EVA. No, the reason why I thus am decked is strange,
maybe.

I PH. Dost thou in such garb appear before a funeral-
pyre ?

EVA. Yea, for hither it is I come to take the meed of
victory.

IPH. "Victory!" what victory? This would I learn of
thee.

EVA. A victory o'er all women on whom the sun looks
down.

IPH. In Athena's handiwork or in prudent counsel?

EVA. In bravery ; for I will lay me down and die with
my lord.

IPH. What dost thou say ? What is this silly riddle thou
propoundest?

EVA. To yonder pyre where lies dead Capaneus, I will
leap down.

IPH. My daughter, speak not thus before the multi-
tude !

EVA. The very thing I wish, that every Argive should
learn it.

IPH. Nay, I will ne'er consent to let thee do this deed.

EVA. (as she is throwing herself}. 'Tis all one ; thou shalt
never catch me in thy grasp. Lo ! I cast me down, no joy
to thee, but to myself and to my husband blazing on the
pyre With me.

CHO. O lady, what a fearful deed !

IPH. Ah me ! I am undone, ye dames of Argos !

CHO. Alack, alack! a cru^l blow is this to thee, but
thou must yet witness, poor wretch, the full horror of this
deed.

IPH. A more unhappy wretch than me ye could not find.

THE SUPPLIANTS. 219

CHO. Woe for thee, unhappy man ! Thou, old sir, hast
been made partaker in the fortune of CEdipus, thou and my
poor city too.

IPH. Ah, why are mortal men denied this boon, to live
their youth twice o'er, and twice in turn to reach old age ?
If aught goes wrong within our homes, we set it right by
judgment more maturely formed, but our life we may not
so correct. Now if we had a second spell of youth and
age, this double term of life would let us then correct each
previous slip. I, for instance, seeing others blest with
children, longed to have them too, and found my ruin in
that wish. Whereas if I had had my present experience,
and by a father's light l had learnt how cruel a thing it is to
be bereft of children, never should I have fallen on such
evil days as these, — I who did beget a brave young son, proud
parent that I was, and after all am now bereft of him.
Enough of this. What remains for such a hapless wretch
as me ? Shall I to my home, there to see its utter desola-
tion and the blank within my life ? or shall I to the halls of
that dead Capaneus ? — halls I smiled to see in days gone by,
when yet my daughter was alive. But she is lost and gone,
she that would ever draw down my cheek to her lips, and
take my head between her hands ; for naught is there more
sweet unto an aged sire than a daughter's love; our
sons are made of sterner stuff, but less winning are their
caresses. Oh ! take me to my house at once, in darkness hide
me there, to waste and fret this aged frame with fasting !
What shall it avail me to touch my daughter's bones ? Old
age, resistless foe, how do I loathe thy presence ! Them
too I hate, whoso desire to lengthen out the span of life,
seeking to turn the tide of death aside by philtres,2 drugs,
and magic spells, — folk that death should take away to leave

*, Following Paley's TFKMV for the MSS.

2 Reading ppwrolm Kai /3orolai rai /iaya jia<n, as restored from Plu-
tarch's quotation of the passage.

220 EURIPIDES. [L. 1113 — 1182

the young their place, when they no more can benefit the
world.

CHO. Woe, woe ! Behold your dead sons' bones are
brought hither; take them, servants of your weak old
mistress, for in me is no strength left by reason of my
mourning for my sons ; time's comrade long have I been,
and many a tear for many a sorrow have I shed. For what
sharper pang wilt thou ever find for mortals than the sight
of children dead ?

CHIL. Poor mother mine, behold I bring my father's bones
gathered from the fire, a burden grief has rendered heavy,
though this tiny urn contains my all.

CHO. Ah me ! ah me ! Why bear thy tearful load to
the fond mother of the dead, a handful of ashes in the
stead of those who erst were men of mark in Mycenae ?

CHIL. Woe worth the hour ! woe worth the day ! Reft of
my hapless sire, a wretched orphan shall I inherit a desolate
house, torn from my father's arms.

CHO. Woe is thee ! Where is now the toil I spent upon
my sons ? what thank have I for nightly watch ? Where
the mother's nursing care? the sleepless vigils mine eyes
have kept ? the loving kiss upon my children's brow ?

CHIL. Thy sons are dead and gone. Poor mother ! dead
and gone ; the boundless air now wraps them round.

CHO. Turned to ashes by the flame, they have winged
their flight to Hades.

CHIL. Father, thou hearest thy children's lamentation ;
say, shall I e'er, as warrior dight, avenge thy slaughter ?

CHO. God grant it, O my child !

CHIL. Some day, if god so will, shall the avenging of my
father be my task ; not yet this sorrow sleeps.

CHO. Alas ! Fortune's sorrows are enough for me, I have
troubles and to spare already.

CHIL. Shall Asopus' laughing tide ever reflect my brazen
arms as I lead on my Argive troops ?

THE SUPPLIANTS. 221

CHO. To avenge thy fallen sire.

CHIL. Methinks I see thee still before my eyes, my
father—

CHO. Printing a loving kiss upon thy cheek.

CHIL. But thy words of exhortation are borne on the
winds away.

CHO. Two mourners hath he left behind, thy mother and
thee, bequeathing to thee an endless legacy of grief for thy
father.

CHIL. The weight of grief I have to bear hath crushed me
utterly.

CHO. Come, let me clasp the ashes of my son to my bosom.

CHIL. I weep to hear that piteous word; it stabs me to
the heart.

CHO. My child, thou art undone ; no more shall I behold
thee, thy own fond mother's treasure.

THE. Adrastus, and ye dames from Argos sprung, ye see
these children bearing in their hands the bodies of their
valiant sires whom I redeemed ; to thee I give these gifts, I
and Athens. And ye must bear in mind the memory of
this favour, marking well the treatment ye have had of me.
And to these children I repeat the self-same words, that
they may honour this city, to children's children ever hand-
ing on the kindness ye received from us. Be Zeus the
witness, with the gods in heaven, of the treatment we
vouchsafed you ere you left us.

ADR. Theseus, well we know all the kindness thou hast
conferred upon the land of Argos in her need, and ours
shall be a gratitude that never waxeth old, for your generous
treatment makes us debtors for a like return.

THE. What yet remains, wherein I can serve you ?

ADR. Fare thee well, for such is thy desert and such thy
city's too.

THE. Even so. Mayst thou too have the self-same
fortune !

222 EURIPIDES. [L. 1183 — 1234

ATH. Hearken, Theseus, to the words that I Athena
utter, telling thee thy duty, which, if thou perform it, will
serve thy city. Give not these bones to the children to
carry to the land of Argos, letting them go so lightly ; nay,
take first an oath of them that they will requite thee and
thy city for your efforts. This oath must Adrastus swear,
for as their king it is his right to take the oath for the whole
realm of Argos. And this shall be the form thereof : " We
Argives swear we never will against this land lead on our
mail-clad troops to war, and, if others come, we will repel
them." But if they violate their oath and come against the
city, pray that the land of Argos may be miserably destroyed.
Now hearken while I tell thee where thou must slay the
victims. Thou hast within thy halls a tripod with brazen
feet, which Heracles, in days gone by, after he had o'er-
thrown the foundations of Ilium and was starting on another
enterprise, enjoined thee to set up at the Pythian shrine.
O'er it cut the throats of three sheep ; then grave within the
tripod's hollow belly the oath ; this done, deliver it to the
god who watches over Delphi to keep, a witness and
memorial unto Hellas of the oath. And bury the sharp-
edged knife, wherewith thou shalt have laid the victims
open and shed their blood, deep in the bowels of the earth,
hard by the pyres where the seven chieftains burn ; for its
appearance shall strike them with dismay, if e'er against
thy town they come, and shall cause them to return with
sorrow. When thou hast done all this, dismiss the dead
from thy land. And to the god resign as sacred land the
spot where their bodies were purified by fire, there by the
meeting of the triple roads that lead unto the Isthmus.
Thus much to thee, Theseus, I address ; next to the sons of
Argos I speak ; when ye are grown to men's estate, the town
beside Ismenus shall ye sack, avenging the slaughter of
your dead sires ; thou too, ^Egialeus, shalt take thy father's
place and in thy youth command the host, and with thee

THE SUPPLIANTS. 223

Tydeus' son marching from yEtolia, — him whom his father
named Diomedes. Soon as the beards your cheeks o'er-
shadow must ye lead an armed Danaid host against the battle-
ments of Thebes with sevenfold gates. For to their sorrow
shall ye come like lion's whelps in full-grown might to sack
their city. No otherwise is it to be ; and ye shall be a
theme for minstrels' songs in days to come, known through
Hellas as " the After-born "; so famous shall your expedi-
tion be, thanks to Heaven.

THE. Queen Athena, I will hearken to thy bidding ; for
thou it is dost set me up, so that I go not astray. And I
will bind this monarch by an oath ; do thou but guide my
steps aright. For if thou art friendly to our state, we shall
henceforth live secure.

CHO. Let us go, Adrastus, and take the oath to this
monarch and his state ; for the service they have already
done us claims our warm regard.

THE TROJAN WOMEN

DRAMATIS PERSONS.

POSEIDON.

ATHENA.

HECUBA.

CHORUS OF CAPTIVE TROJAN WOMEN.

TALTHYBIUS.

CASSANDRA.

ANDROMACHE.

MENELAUS.

HELEN.

SCENE.— Before Agamemnon's Tent in the Camp near Troy.

THE TROJAN WOMEN.

Pos. Lo ! from the depths of salt yEgean floods I, Posei-
don, come, where choirs of Nereids trip in the mazes of the
graceful dance ; for since the day that Phoebus and myself
with measurement exact set towers of stone about this land
of Troy and ringed it round, never from my heart hath
passed away a kindly feeling for my Phrygian town, which
now is smouldering and o'erthrown, a prey to Argive
prowess. For, from his home beneath Parnassus, Phocian
Epeus, aided by the craft of Pallas, framed a horse to bear
within its womb an armed host, and sent it within the battle-
ments, fraught with death ; whence in days to come men
shall tell of " The wooden horse," with its hidden load of
warriors. Groves forsaken stand and temples of the
gods run down with blood, and at the altar's very base,
before the god who watched his home, lies Priam dead.
While to Achaean ships great store of gold and Phrygian
spoils are being conveyed, and they who came against this
town, those sons of Hellas, only wait a favouring breeze to
follow in their wake, that after ten long years they may with
joy behold their wives and children. Vanquished by Hera,
Argive goddess, and by Athena, who helped to ruin Phrygia,
I am leaving Ilium, that famous town, and the altars that I
love ; for when drear desolation seizes on a town, the
worship of the gods decays and tends to lose respect.
Scamander's banks re-echo long and loud the screams of
captive maids, as they by lot receive their masters. Arcadia
taketh some, and some the folk of Thessaly; others are

228 EURIPIDES. [L. 31—98

assigned to Theseus' sons, the Athenian chiefs. And such
of the Trojan dames as are not portioned out, are in these
tents, set apart for the leaders of the host ; and with them
Spartan Helen, daughter of Tyndarus, justly counted among
the captives. And wouldst thou see that queen of misery,
Hecuba, thou canst; for there she lies before the gates,
weeping many a bitter tear for many a tribulation ; for at
Achilles' tomb, — though she knows not this, — her daughter
Polyxena has died most piteously ; likewise is Priam dead,
and her children too ; Cassandra, whom the king Apollo
left to be a virgin, frenzied maid, hath Agamemnon, in
contempt of the god's ordinance and of piety, forced to a dis-
honoured wedlock. Farewell, O city prosperous once ! fare-
well, ye ramparts of hewn stone ! had not Pallas, daughter
of Zeus, decreed thy ruin, thou wert standing firmly still.

ATH. May I address the mighty god whom Heaven
reveres and who to my own sire is very nigh in blood, laying
aside our former enmity ?

Pos. Thou mayst ; for o'er the soul the ties of kin exert
no feeble spell, great queen Athena.

ATH. For thy forgiving mood my thanks ! Somewhat
have I to impart affecting both thyself and me, O king.

Pos. Bringst thou fresh tidings from some god, from Zeus,
or from some lesser power?

ATH. From none of these ; but on behalf of Troy, whose
soil we tread, am I come to seek thy mighty aid, to make it
one with mine.

Pos. What ! hast thou laid thy former hate aside to take
compassion on the town now that it is burnt to ashes ?

ATH. First go back to the former point ; wilt thou make
common cause with me in the scheme I purpose ?

Pos. Ay surely; but I would fain learn thy wishes,
whether thou art come to help Achaeans or Phrygians.

ATH. I wish to give my former foes, the Trojans, joy, and
on the Achaean host impose a return that they will rue.

THE TROJAN WOMEN. 22Q

Pos. Why leap'st thou thus from mood to mood ? Thy
love and hate both go too far, on whomsoever centred.

ATH. Dost not know the insult done to me and to the
shrine I love ?

Pos. Surely, in the hour that Aias tore Cassandra
thence.

ATH. Yea, and the Achaeans did naught, said naught to
him.

Pos. And yet 'twas by thy mighty aid they sacked Ilium.

ATH. For which cause I would join with thee to work
their bane.

Pos. My powers are ready at thy will. What is thy
intent?

ATH. A returning fraught with woe will I impose on them.

Pos. While yet they stay on shore, or as they cross the
briny deep ?

ATH. When they have set sail from Ilium for their homes.
On them will Zeus also send his rain and fearful hail, and
inky tempests from the sky ; yea, and he promises to grant
me his levin-bolts to hurl on the Achaeans and fire their ships.
And do thou, for thy part, make the ^gean strait to roar
with mighty billows and whirlpools, and fill Euboea's hollow
bay with corpses, that Achaeans may learn henceforth to
reverence my temples and regard all other deities,

Pos. So shall it be, for the boon thou cravest needs
but few words. I will vex the broad JEgean sea; and
the beach of Myconus and the reefs round Delos, Scyros
and Lemnos too, and the cliffs of Caphareus shall be strown
with many a corpse. Mount thou to Olympus, and taking
from thy father's hand his lightning bolts, keep careful
watch against the hour when Argos' host lets slip its cables.
A fool is he who sacks the towns of men, with shrines
and tombs, the dead man's hallowed home, for at the last he
makes a desert round himself, and dies.

HEC. Lift thy head, unhappy lady, from the ground ; thy

230 EURIPIDES. [L. 99—191

neck upraise ; this is Troy no more, no longer am I queen
in Ilium. Though fortune change, endure thy lot; sail
with the stream, and follow fortune's tack, steer not thy
barque of life against the tide, since chance must guide
thy course. Ah me ! ah me ! What else but tears is now
my hapless lot, whose country, children, husband, all are
lost ? Ah ! the high-blown pride of ancestors ! how cabined
now ! how brought to nothing after all 1 What woe must I
suppress, or what declare? What plaintive dirge shall I
awake ? Ah, woe is me ! the anguish I suffer lying here
stretched upon this pallet hard ! O my head, my temples,
my side ! Ah ! could I but turn over, and lie now on
this, now on that, to rest my back and spine, while cease-
lessly my tearful wail ascends. For e'en this is music to
the wretched, to chant their cheerless dirge of sorrow.

Ye swift-prowed ships, rowed to sacred Ilium o'er the
deep dark sea, past the fair havens of Hellas, to the flute's
ill-omened music and the dulcet voice of pipes, even to
the bays of Troyland (alack the day !), wherein ye tied your
hawsers, twisted handiwork from Egypt, in quest of that
hateful wife of Menelaus, who brought disgrace on Castor,
and on Eurotas foul reproach ; murderess she of Priam, sire
of fifty children, the cause why I, the hapless Hecuba,
have wrecked my life upon this troublous strand. Oh that I
should sit here o'er against the tent of Agamemnon ! Forth
from my home to slavery they hale my aged frame, while
from my head in piteous wise the hair is shorn for grief.
Ah ! hapless wives of those mail-clad sons of Troy ! Ah !
poor maidens, luckless brides, come weep, for Ilium is now
but a smouldering ruin ; and I, like some mother-bird
that o'er her fledgelings screams, will begin the strain ;
how different from that song I sang to the gods in days long
past, as I leaned on Priam's staff, and beat with my foot
in Phrygian time to lead the dance !

IST HALF-CHO. O Hecuba ! why these cries, these piercing

THE TROJAN WOMEN. 231

shrieks? What mean thy words? For I heard thy piteous
wail echo through the building, and a pang of terror shoots
through each captive Trojan's breast, as pent within these
walls they mourn their slavish lot.

HEC. My child, e'en now the hands of Argive rowers
are busy at their ships.

IST HALF-CHO. Ah, woe is me! what is their intent?
Will they really bear me hence in sorrow from my country
in their fleet ?

HEC. I know not, though I guess our doom.

IST HALF-CHO. O misery ! woe to us Trojan dames, soon
to hear the order given, " Come forth from the house ;
the Argives are preparing to return."

HEC. Oh ! do not bid the wild Cassandra leave her cham-
ber, the frantic prophetess, for Argives to insult, nor to my
griefs add yet another. Woe to thee, ill-fated Troy, thy sun
is set; and woe to thy unhappy children, quick and dead
alike, who are leaving thee behind !

2ND HALF-CHO. With trembling step, alas ! I leave this
tent of Agamemnon to learn of thee, my royal mistress,
whether the Argives have resolved to take my wretched life,
whether the sailors at the prow are making ready to ply
their oars.

HEC. My child, a fearful dread l seized on my wakeful
heart and sent me hither.

2ND HALF-CHO. Hath a herald from the Danai already
come ? To whom am I, poor captive, given as a slave ?

HEC. Thou art not far from being allotted now.

2ND HALF-CHO. Woe worth the day ! What Argive or
Phthiotian chief will bear me far from Troy, alas ! unto his
home, or haply to some island fastness ?

HEC. Ah me! ah me! Whose slave shall I become in
my old age? in what far clime? a poor old drone, the

1 Hartung after the Scliol. reads as follows, opGptvov auv

232 EURIPIDES. [L. 192—268

wretched copy of a corpse, set to keep the gate or tend
their children, I who once held royal rank in Troy.

CHO. Woe, woe is thee ! What piteous dirge wilt thou
devise to mourn the outrage done thee ? No more through
Ida's looms shall I ply the shuttle to and fro. I look my
last and latest on my children's bodies ; henceforth shall I
endure surpassing misery ; it may be as the unwilling bride
of some Hellene (perish the night and fortune that brings
me to this !) ; it may be as a wretched slave I from
Peirene's sacred fount shall draw their store of water.

Oh ! be it ours to come to Theseus' famous realm, a land of
joy ! Never, never let me see Eurotas' swirling tide, hateful
home of Helen, there to meet and be the slave of Menelaus,
whose hand laid Troyland waste ! Yon holy land by Peneus
fed, nestling in all its beauty at Olympus' foot, is said, so
have I heard, to be a very granary of wealth and teeming
fruitage ; next to the sacred soil of Theseus, I could wish to
reach that land. They tell me too Hephaestus' home,
beneath the shadow of y£tna, fronting Phoenicia, the mother
of Sicilian hills, is famous for the crowns it gives to worth.
Or may I find a home on that shore which lieth very nigh
Ionia's sea, a land by Crathis watered, lovely stream, that
dyes the hair an auburn tint, feeding with its holy waves
and making glad therewith the home of heroes good and
irue.

But mark ! a herald from the host of Danai, with store of
fresh proclamations, comes hasting hither. What is his
errand? what saith he? List, for we are slaves to Dorian
lords henceforth.

TAL, Hecuba, thou knowest me from my many journeys
to and fro as herald 'twixt the Achaean host and Troy ; no
stranger I to thee, lady, even aforetime, I Talthybius, now
sent with a fresh message.

HEC. Ah, kind friends, 'tis come ! what I so long have
dreaded

THE TROJAN WOMEN. 233

TAL. The lot has decided your fates already, if that was
what you feared.

HEC. Ah me ! What city didst thou say, Thessalian,
Phthian, or Cadmean ?

TAL. Each warrior took his prize in turn ; ye were not all
at once assigned.

HEC. To whom hath the lot assigned us severally?
Which of us Trojan dames doth a happy fortune await ?

TAL. I know, but ask thy questions separately, not all at
once.

HEC. Then tell me, whose prize is my daughter, hapless
Cassandra ?

TAL. King Agamemnon hath chosen her out for himself.

HEC. To be the slave-girl of his Spartan wife ? Ah me !

TAL. Nay, to share with him his stealthy love.

HEC. What ! Phoebus' virgin-priestess, to whom the god
with golden locks granted the boon of maidenhood?

TAL. The dart of love hath pierced his heart, love for the
frenzied maid.

HEC. Daughter, cast from thee the sacred keys, and
from thy body tear the holy wreaths that drape thee in their
folds.

TAL. Why ! is it not an honour high that she should win
our monarch's love ?

HEC. What have ye done to her whom late ye took from
me, — my child?

TAL. Dost mean Polyxena, or whom dost thou inquire
about ?

HEC. To whom hath the lot assigned her?

TAL. To minister at Achilles' tomb hath been appointed
her.

HEC. Woe is me ! I the mother of a dead man's slave !
What custom, what ordinance is this amongst Hellenes,
good sir ?

TAL. Count thy daughter happy : 'tis well with her.

1AL. LX

234 EURIPIDES. [L. 269—353

HEC. What wild words are these ? say, is she still alive ?

TAL. Her fate is one that sets her free from trouble.

HEC. And what of mail-clad Hector's wife, sad Andro-
mache ? declare her fate.

TAL. She too was a chosen prize ; Achilles' son did take
her.

HEC. As for me whose hair is white with age, who need
to hold a staff to be to me a third foot, whose servant am I
to be?

TAL. Odysseus, king of Ithaca, hath taken thee to be his
slave.

HEC. O God ! Now smite the close-shorn head ! tear
your cheeks with your nails. God help me ! I have fallen
as a slave to a treacherous foe I hate, a monster of lawless-
ness, one that by his double tongue hath turned against us
all that once was friendly in his camp, changing this for
that and that for this again. Oh weep for me, ye Trojan
dames ! Undone ! undone and lost ! ah woe ! a victim to a
most unhappy lot !

CHO. Thy fate, royal mistress, now thou knowest; but
for me, what Hellene or Achaean is master of my destiny ?

TAL. Ho, servants ! haste and bring Cassandra forth to
me here, that I may place her in our captain's hands, and
then conduct to the rest of the chiefs the captives each hath
had assigned. Ha ! what is the blaze of torches there within ?
What do these Trojan dames ? Are they firing the chambers,
because they must leave this land and be carried away to
Argos? Are they setting themselves aflame in their longing
for death ? Of a truth the free bear their troubles in cases
like this with a stiff neck. Ho, there ! open ! lest their deed,
which suits them well but finds small favour with the Achaeans,
bring blame on me.

HEC. 'Tis not that they are setting aught ablaze, but my
child Cassandra, frenzied maid, comes rushing wildly hither.

CAS. Bring the light, uplift and show its flame ! I am

THE TROJAN WOMEN. 235

doing the god's service, see ! see ! making his shrine to glo\v
with tapers bright. O Hymen, king of marriage ! blest is the
bridegroom ; blest am I also, the maiden soon to wed a
princely lord in Argos. Hail Hymen, king of marriage !
Since thou, my mother, art ever busied with tears and lamen-
tations in thy mourning for my father's death and for our
country dear, I at my own nuptials am making this torch to
blaze and show its light, in thy honour, O Hymen, king of
marriage ! Grant thy light too, Hecate, at the maiden's
wedding, as the custom is. Nimbly lift the foot aloft, lead
on the dance, with cries of joy, as if to greet my father's
happy fate. To dance I hold a sacred duty ; come, Phoebus,
lead the way, for 'tis in thy temple mid thy bay-trees
that I minister. Hail Hymen, god of marriage ! Hymen,
hail ! Come, mother mine, and join the dance, link thy
steps with me, and circle in the gladsome measure, now
here, now there. Salute the bride on her wedding-day
with hymns and cries of joy. Come, ye maids of Phrygia in
raiment fair, sing my marriage with the husband fate
ordains that I should wed.

CHO. Hold the frantic maiden, royal mistress mine, lest
with nimble foot she rush to the Argive army.

HEC. Thou god of fire, 'tis thine to light the bridal torch
for men, but piteous is the flame thou kindlest here, beyond
my blackest bodings. Ah, my child ! how little did I ever
dream that such would be thy marriage, a captive, and of
Argos too ! Give up the torch to me ; thou dost not bear
its blaze aright in thy wild frantic course, nor have thy afflic-
tions left thee in thy sober senses,1 but still art thou as frantic
as before. Take in those torches, Trojan friends, and
for her wedding madrigals weep your tears instead.

CAS. O mother, crown my head with victor's wreaths;

1 Hartung alters the MS. into a' ai . . . voQfjv tGqKav, which in the
absence of any other instance of <Tw0poi'tu' in a transitive sense seems
preferable to Nauck's d icra)<f>poi»'i<a<n or Puley's aai TV\CII ffetfwfpor^CXMn.

236 EURIPIDES. [L. 354—427

rejoice in my royal match ; lead me to my lord ; nay, if
thou find me loth at all, thrust me there by force ; for if
Loxias be indeed a prophet, Agamemnon, that famous king
of the Achaeans, will find in me a bride more fraught with
woe to him than Helen. For I will slay him and lay waste
his home to avenge my father's and my brethren's death.
But of the deed itself I will not speak ; nor will I tell of
that axe which shall sever my neck and the necks of others,
or of the conflict ending in a mother's death, which my
marriage shall cause, nor of the overthrow of Atreus' house ;
but I, for all my frenzy, will so far rise above my frantic fit,
that I will prove this city happier far than those Achaeans,
who for the sake of one woman and one man's love of her
have lost a countless host in seeking Helen. Their captain
too, whom men call wise, hath lost for what he hated most
what most he prized, yielding to his brother for a woman's
sake, — and she a willing prize whom no man forced, — the joy
lie had of his own children in his home. For from the day
that they did land upon Scamander's strand, their doom
began, not for loss of stolen frontier nor yet for fatherland
with frowning towers ; whomso Ares slew, those never saw
their babes again, nor were they shrouded for the tomb by
hand of wife, but in a foreign land they lie. At home the
case was still the same ; wives were dying widows, parents
were left childless in their homes, having reared their sons
for others, and none is left to make libations of blood upon
the ground before their tombs. Truly to such praise as
this their host can make an ample claim. 'Tis better to pass
their shame in silence by, nor be mine the Muse to tell that
evil tale. But the Trojans were dying, first for their father-
land, fairest fame to win ; whomso the sword laid low, all
these found friends to bear their bodies home and were laid
to rest in the bosom of their native land, their funeral rites
all duly paid by duteous hands. And all such Phrygians as
escaped the warrior's death lived ever day by day with wife

THE TROJAN WOMEN. 237

and children by them, — joys the Achaeans had left behind.
As for Hector and his griefs, prithee hear how stands the
case j he is dead and gone, but still his fame remains as
bravest of the brave, and this was a result of the Achaeans'
coming ; for had they remained at home, his worth would
have gone unnoticed. So too with Paris, he married the
daughter of Zeus, whereas, had he never done so, the
alliance he made in his family would have been forgotten.
Whoso is wise should fly from making war; but if he be
brought to this pass, a noble death will crown his city with
glory, a coward's end with shame. Wherefore, mother
mine, thou shouldst not pity thy country or my spousal, for
this my marriage will destroy those whom thou and I most
hate.

CHO. How sweetly at thy own sad lot thou smilest,
chanting a strain, which, spite of thee, may prove thee
wrong !

TAL. Had not Apollo turned thy wits astray, thou shouldst
not for nothing have sent my chiefs with such ominous pre-
dictions forth on their way. But, after all, these lofty minds,
reputed wise, are nothing better than those that are held as
naught. For that mighty king of all Hellas, own son of
Atreus, has yielded to a passion for this mad maiden of all
others ; though I am poor enough, yet would I ne'er have
chosen such a wife as this. As for thee, since thy senses
are not whole, I give thy taunts 'gainst Argos and thy praise
of Troy to the winds to carry away. Follow me now to the
ships to grace the wedding of our chief. And thou too
follow, whensoe'er the son of Laertes demands thy presence,
for thou wilt serve a mistress most discreet, as all declare
who came to Ilium.

CAS. A clever fellow this menial ! Why is it heralds
hold the name they do ? All men unite in hating with one
common hate the servants who attend on kings or govern-
ments. Thou sayest my mother shall come to the halls of

238 EURIPIDES. [L. 428 — 497

Odysseus ; where then be Apollo's words, so clear to me in
their interpretation, which declare that here she shall die ?
What else remains, I will not taunt her with. Little knows
he, the luckless wight, the sufferings that await him ; or
how these ills I and my Phrygians endure shall one day seem
to him precious as gold. For beyond the ten long years
spent at Troy he shall drag out other ten and then come to
his country all alone, by the route where fell Charybdis
lurks in a narrow channel 'twixt the rocks ; past Cyclops the
savage shepherd,1 and Ligurian Circe that turneth men to
swine ; shipwrecked oft upon the salt sea-wave ; fain to eat
the lotus, and the sacred cattle of the sun, whose flesh shall
utter in the days to come a human voice, fraught with
misery to Odysseus. But to briefly end this history, he
shall descend alive to Hades, and, though he 'scape the
waters' flood, yet shall he find a thousand troubles in his
home when he arrives. Enough ! why do I recount the
troubles of Odysseus ? Lead on, that I forthwith may wed
my husband for his home in Hades' halls. Base thou art,
and basely shalt thou be buried, ia the dead of night when
day is done, thou captain of that host of Danai, who thinkest
so proudly of thy fortune ! Yea, and my corpse cast forth
in nakedness shall the rocky chasm with its flood of wintry
waters give to wild beasts to make their meal upon, hard by
my husband's tomb, me the handmaid of Apollo. Farewell,
ye garlands of that god most dear to me ! farewell, ye mystic
symbols ! I here resign your feasts, my joy in days gone
by. Go, I tear ye from my body, that, while yet mine honour
is intact, I may give them to the rushing winds to waft to
thee, my prince of prophecy ! Where is yon general's ship?
Whither must I go to take my place thereon? Lose no
further time in watching for a favouring breeze to fill thy
sails, doomed as thou art to carry from this land one of the
three avenging spirits. Fare thee well, mother mine ! dry
1 Scaliger proposed o^ei/3ari/f, which Nauck adopts..

THE TROJAN WOMEN. 239

thy tears, O country dear ! yet a little while, my brothers
sleeping in the tomb and my own father true, and ye shall
welcome me ; yet shall victory crown my advent 'mongst
the dead, when I have overthrown the home of our
destroyers, the house of the sons of Atreus.

CHO. Ye guardians of the grey-haired Hecuba, see how
your mistress is sinking speechless to the ground ! Take
hold of her ! will ye let her fall, ye worthless slaves ? lift up
again, from where it lies, her silvered head.

HEC. Leave me lying where I fell, my maidens — un-
welcome service grows not welcome ever — my sufferings
now, my troubles past, afflictions yet to come, all claim this
lowly posture. Gods of heaven ! small help I find in calling
such allies, yet is there something in the form of invoking
heaven, whenso we fall on evil days. First will I descant
upon my former blessings ; so shall I inspire the greater
pity for my present woes. Born to royal estate and wedded
to a royal lord, I was the mother of a race of gallant sons ;
no mere ciphers they, but Phrygia's chiefest pride, children
such as no Trojan or Hellenic or barbarian mother ever had
to boast. All these have I seen slain by the spear of
Hellas, and at their tombs have I shorn off my hair ; with
these my eyes I saw their sire, my Priam, butchered on his
own hearth, and my city captured, nor did others bring this
bitter news to me. The maidens I brought up to see
chosen for some marriage high, for strangers have I
reared them, and seen them snatched away. Nevermore
can I hope to be seen by them, nor shall my eyes behold
them ever in the days to come. And last, to crown my
misery, shall I be brought to Hellas, a slave in my old
age. And there the tasks that least befit the evening of my
life will they impose on me, to watch their gates and keep
the keys, me Hector's mother, or bake their bread, and on
the ground instead of my royal bed lay down my shrunken
limbs, with tattered rags about my wasted frame, a shameful

240 EURIPIDES. [L. 498—581

garb for those who once were prosperous. Ah, woe is me !
and this is what I bear and am to bear for one weak woman's
wooing ! O my daughter, O Cassandra ! whom gods have
summoned to their frenzied train, how cruel the lot that
ends thy virgin days ! And thou, Polyxena ! my child of
sorrow, where, oh ! where art thou ? None of all the many
sons and daughters I have born comes to aid a wretched
mother. Why then raise me up ? What hope is left us ?
Guide me, who erst trod so daintily the streets of Troy, but
now am but a slave, to a bed upon the ground, nigh some
rocky ridge, that thence I may cast me down and perish,
after I have wasted my body with weeping.1 Of all the
prosperous crowd, count none a happy man before he die.

CHO. Sing me, Muse, a tale of Troy, a funeral dirge in
strains unheard as yet, with tears the while ; for now will I
uplift for Troy a piteous chant, telling how I met my doom
and fell a wretched captive to the Argives by reason of a
four-footed beast that moved on wheels, in the hour that
Achsea's sons left at our gates that horse, loud rumbling 2 on
its way, with its trappings of gold and its freight of warriors ;
and our folk cried out as they stood upon the rocky citadel,
" Up now ye whose toil is o'er, and drag this sacred image
to the shrine of the Zeus-born maiden, goddess of our
Ilium ! " Forth from his house came every youth and every
grey-head too ; and with songs of joy they took the fatal
snare within. Then hastened all the race of Phrygia to the
gates, to make the goddess 3 a present of an Argive band
ambushed in the polished mountain-pine, Dardania's ruin, a
welcome gift to be to her, the virgin queen of deathless
steeds ; and with nooses of cord they dragged it, as it had
been a ship's dark hull, to the stone-built fane of the

1 Hartung's emendation avpatc greatly improves the sense.
a Hartung reads irpkirovra.

3 Reading 6t$. The Schol. clearly read £%, interpreting Ctq. dai
by 9tao6jjievo£.

THE TROJAN WOMEN. 241

goddess Pallas, and set it on that floor so soon to drink our
country's blood. But, as they laboured and made merry,
came on the pitchy night ; loud the Libyan flute was sound-
ing, and Phrygian songs awoke, while maidens beat the
ground with airy foot, uplifting their gladsome song ; and
in the halls a blaze of torchlight shed ! its flickering shadows
on sleeping eyes. In that hour around the house was I
singing as I danced to that maiden of the hills, the child of
Zeus ; when lo ! there rang along the town a cry of death
which filled the homes of Troy, and little babes in terror
clung about their mothers' skirts, as forth from their ambush
came the warrior-band, the handiwork of maiden Pallas.
Anon the altars ran with Phrygian blood, and desolation
reigned o'er every bed where young men lay beheaded, a
glorious crown for Hellas won, ay, for her, the nurse of
youth, but for our Phrygian fatherland a bitter grief. Look,
Hecuba! dost see Andromache advancing hither on a
foreign car? and with her, clasped to her throbbing breast,
is her dear Astyanax, Hector's child.

HEC. Whither art thou borne, unhappy wife, mounted on
that car, side by side with Hector's brazen arms and
Phrygian spoils of war, with which Achilles' son will deck the
shrines of Phthia on his return from Troy ?

AND. My Achaean masters drag me hence.

HEC. Woe is thee !

AND. Why dost thou in note of woe utter the dirge that
is mine ?

HEC. Ah me !

AND. For these sorrows.

HEC O Zeus !

AND. And for this calamity.

HEC. O my children !

AND. Our day is past.

1 There is some corruption here, but no satisfactory emendation has
been yet offered. One editor proposes cnrfti u/« wxrog.

R

242 EURIPIDES. [L. 582-634

HEC. Joy is fled, and Troy o'erthrown.

AND. Woe is me !

HEC. Dead too all my gallant sons !

AND. Alack and well-a-day !

HEC. Ah me for my —

AND. Misery !

HEC. Piteous the fate

AND. Of our city,

HEC. Smouldering in the smoke.

AND. Come, my husband, come to me !

HEC. Ah hapless wife ! thou callest on my son who lieth
in the tomb.

AND. Thy wife's defender, come !

HEC. Do thou, who erst didst make the Achaeans
grieve, eldest of the sons I bare to Priam in the days gone
by, take me to thy rest in Hades' halls !

AND. Bitter are these regrets, unhappy mother, bitter
these woes to bear ; our city ruined, and sorrow evermore to
sorrow added, through the will of angry heaven, since the
day that son l of thine escaped his doom, he that for a bride
accursed brought destruction on the Trojan citadel.
There lie the gory corpses of the slain by the shrine of
Pallas for vultures to carry off; and Troy is come to
slavery's yoke.

HEC. O my country, O unhappy land, I weep for thee
now left behind ; now dost thou behold thy piteous end ;
and thee, my house, I weep, wherein I suffered travail. O
my children ! reft of her city as your mother is, she now is
losing you. Oh, what mourning and what sorrow ! oh, what
endless streams of tears in our houses ! The dead alone
forget their griefs and never shed a tear.

1 i.e., Paris, who had been exposed to die on account of an oracle
foretelling the misery he would cause if he grew to man's estate ; but
shepherds had found him on the hills and reared him.

THE TROJAN WOMEN. 243

CHO. What sweet relief to sufferers 'tis to weep, to
mourn, lament, and chant the dirge that tells of grief!

AND. Dost thou see this, mother of that Hector, who
once laid low in battle many a son of Argos ?

HEC. I see that it is heaven's way to exalt what men
accounted naught, and ruin what they most esteemed.

AND. Hence with my child as booty am I borne; the
noble are to slavery brought— a bitter, bitter change.

HEC. This is necessity's grim law ; it was but now Cas-
sandra was torn with brutal violence from my arms.

AND. Alas, alas ! it seems a second Aias hath appeared
to wrong thy daughter ; but there be other ills for thee.

HEC. Ay, beyond all count or measure are my sorrows;
evil vies with evil in the struggle to be first.

AND. Thy daughter Polyxena is dead, slain at Achilles'
tomb, an offering to his lifeless corpse.

HEC. O woe is me ! This is that riddle Talthybius long
since told me, a truth obscurely uttered.
. AND. I saw her with mine eyes; so I alighted from
the chariot, and covered her corpse with a mantle, and
smote upon my breast.

HEC. Alas ! my child, for thy unhallowed sacrifice ! and
yet again, ah me ! for this thy shameful death !

AND. Her death was even as it was, and yet that death of
hers was after all a happier fate than this my life.

HEC. Death and life are not the same, my child; the
one is annihilation, the other keeps a place for hope.

AND. Hear, O mother1 of children! give ear to what I
urge so well, that I may cheer my drooping spirit. 'Tis
all one, I say, ne'er to have been born and to be dead,
and better far is death than life with misery. For the dead
feel no sorrow any more and know no grief; but he who has
known prosperity and has fallen on evil days feels his spirit

1 Musgrave reads ov for the second w. Dindorf rejects the first line
of this speech.

244 EURIPIDES. [L. 635-711

straying from the scene of former joys. Now that child
of thine is dead as though she ne'er had seen the light,
and little she recks of her calamity ; whereas I, who aimed at
a fair repute, though I won a higher lot than most, yet
missed my luck in life. For all that stamps the wife a
woman chaste, I strove to do in Hector's home. In the
first place, whether there is a slur upon a woman, or whether
there is not, the very fact of her not staying at home brings
in its train an evil name ; therefore I gave up any wish to do
so, and abode ever within my house, nor would I admit the
clever gossip women love, but conscious of a heart that told
an honest tale I was content therewith. And ever would I
keep a silent tongue and modest eye before my lord;
and well I knew where I might rule my lord, and where
'twas best to yield to him ; the fame whereof hath reached
the Achaean host, and proved my ruin; for when I was taken
captive, Achilles' son would have me as his wife, and I
must serve in the house of murderers. And l if I set aside
my love for Hector, and ope my heart to this new lord,
I shall appear a traitress to the dead, while, if I hate him,
I shall incur my master's displeasure. And yet they say
a single night removes a woman's dislike for her husband;
nay, I do hate the woman who, when she hath lost her
former lord, transfers her love by marrying another. Not
e'en the horse, if from his fellow torn, will cheerfully draw the
yoke; and yet the brutes have neither speech nor sense
to help them, and are by nature man's inferiors. O Hector
mine ! in thee I found a husband amply dowered with
wisdom, noble birth and fortune, a brave man and a mighty;
whilst thou didst take me from my father's house a spotless
bride, thyself the first to make this maiden wife. But now
death hath claimed thee, and I to Hellas am soon to sail, a
captive doomed to wear the yoke of slavery. Hath not then

1 Dindorf condemns lines 656—667. Nauck brackets 662 and 663
as spurious.

THE TROJAN WOMEN. 245

the dead Polyxena, for whom thou wailest, less evil to
bear than I ? I have not so much as hope, the last
resource of every human heart, nor do I beguile myself
with dreams of future bliss, the very thought whereof is
sweet.

CHO. Thou art in the self-same plight as I; thy lamen-
tations for thyself remind me of my own sad case.

HEC. I never yet have set foot on a ship's deck, though I
have seen such things in pictures and know of them from
hearsay. Now sailors, if there come a storm of moderate
force, are all eagerness to save themselves by toil; one at the
tiller stands, another sets himself to work the sheets, a third
meantime is baling out the ship ; but if tempestuous waves
arise to overwhelm them, they yield to fortune and commit
themselves to the driving billows. Even so I, by reason of
my countless troubles, am dumb and forbear to say a word ;
for Heaven with its surge of misery is too strong for me.
Cease, Oh cease, my darling child, to speak of Hector's fate ;
no tears of thine can save him ; honour thy present lord,
offering thy sweet nature as the bait to win him. If thou do
this, thou wilt cheer thy friends as well as thyself, and
thou shalt rear my Hector's child to lend stout aid to Ilium,
that so thy children in the after-time may build her up again,
and our city yet be stablished. But lo ! our talk must take
a different turn ; who is this Achaean menial I see coming
hither, sent to tell us of some new design ?

TAL. Oh hate me not, thou that erst wert Hector's wife, the
bravest of the Phrygians ! for my tongue would fain not tell
that which the Danai and sons of Pelops both command.

AND. What is it ? Thy prelude bodeth evil news.

TAL. 'Tis decreed thy son is — how can I tell my news ?

AND. Surely not to have a different master from me ?

TAL. None of all Achaea's chiefs shall ever lord it over him.

AND. Is it their will to leave him here, a remnant yet of
Phrygia's race ?

246 EURIPIDES. [L. 712-781

TAL. I know no words to break the sorrow lightly to thee.

AND. I thank thee for thy consideration, unless indeed
thou hast good news to tell.

TAL. They mean to slay thy son; there is my hateful
message to thee.

AND. O God ! this is worse tidings than my forced
marriage.

TAL. So spake Odysseus to the assembled Hellenes, and
his word prevails.

AND. Oh once again ah me ! there is no measure in the
woes I bear.

TAL. He said they should not rear so brave a father's son.

AND. May such counsels yet prevail about children of
his!

TAL. From Troy's battlements he must be thrown. Let
it be even so, and thou wilt show more wisdom ; cling not
to him, but bear thy sorrows with heroic heart, nor in thy
weakness deem that thou art strong. For nowhere hast
thou any help; consider this thou must; thy husband and
thy city are no more, so thou art in our power, and I alone
am match enough for one weak woman ; wherefore I would
not see thee bent on strife, or any course to bring thee shame
or hate, nor would I hear thee rashly curse the Achaeans.
For if thou say aught whereat the host grow wroth, this
child will find no burial nor pity either. But if thou hold thy
peace and with composure take thy fate, thou wilt not
leave his corpse unburied, and thyself wilt find more favour
with the Achaeans.

AND. My child ! my own sweet babe and priceless treasure !
thy death the foe demands, and thou must leave thy wretched
mother. That l which saves the lives of others, proves thy
destruction, even thy sire's nobility; to thee thy father's
valiancy has proved no boon. O the woful wedding rites,
that brought me e-rst to Hector's home, hoping to be the
1 Nauck considers 737 and 738 spurious.

THE TROJAN WOMEN. 247

mother of a son that should rule o'er Asia's fruitful fields
instead of serving as a victim to the sons of Danaus ! Dost
weep, my babe ? dost know thy hapless fate ? Why clutch me
with thy hands and to my garment cling, nestling like a
tender chick beneath my wing ? Hector will not rise again
and come gripping his famous spear to bring thee salvation ;
no kinsman of thy sire appears, nor might of Phrygian hosts ;
one awful headlong leap from the dizzy height and thou wilt
dash out thy life with none to pity thee ! Oh to clasp thy
tender limbs, a mother's fondest joy ! Oh to breathe thy
fragrant breath ! I*n vain it seems these breasts did suckle
thee, wrapped in thy swaddling-clothes ; all for naught I
used to toil and wore myself away ! Kiss thy mother now
for the last time, nestle to her that bare thee, twine thy arms
about my neck and join thy lips to mine ! O ye Hellenes,
cunning to devise new forms of cruelty, why slay this child
who never wronged any ? Thou daughter of Tyndarus, thou
art no child of Zeus, but sprung, I trow, of many a sire, first
of some evil demon, next of Envy, then of Murder and of
Death, and every horror that the earth begets. That Zeus
was never sire of thine I boldly do assert, bane as thou hast
been to many a Hellene and barbarian too. Destruction
catch thee ! Those fair eyes of thine have brought a shame-
ful ruin on the fields of glorious Troy. Take the babe and
bear him hence, hurl him down if so ye list, then feast upon
his flesh ! 'Tis heaven's high will we perish, and I cannot
ward the deadly stroke from my child. Hide me and my
misery ; cast me into the ship's hold ; for 'tis to a fair wed-
ding I am going, now that I have lost my child !

CHO. Unhappy Troy ! thy thousands thou hast lost for
one woman's sake and her accursed wooing.

TAL. Come, child, leave fond embracing of thy woful
mother, and mount the high coronal of thy ancestral towers,
there to draw thy parting breath, as is ordained. Take him
hence. His should the duty be to do such herald's work,

248 EURIPIDES. [L. 782-880

whose heart knows no pity and who loveth ruthlessness more
than my soul doth.

{Exeunt ANDROMACHE and TALTHYBIUS with ASTY-

ANAX.

HEC. O child, son of my hapless boy, an unjust fate robs
me and thy mother of thy life. How is it with me ? What
can I do for thee, my luckless babe ? for thee I smite upon
my head and beat my breast, my only gift ; for that alone is
in my power. Woe for my city ! woe for thee ! Is not our
cup full ? What is wanting now to our utter and immediate
ruin?

CHO. O Telamon, King of Salamis, the feeding-ground of
bees, who hast thy home in a sea-girt isle that lieth nigh the
holy hills where first Athena made the grey olive-branch to
appear, a crown for heavenly heads and a glory unto happy
Athens, thou didst come in knightly brotherhood with that
great archer, Alcmena's son, to sack our city Ilium, in days
gone by, [on thy advent from Hellas,] what time he led
the chosen flower of Hellas, vexed for the steeds l denied
him, and at the fair stream of Simois he stayed his sea-borne
ship and fastened cables to the stern, and forth therefrom
he took the bow his hand could deftly shoot, to be the doom
of Laomedon ; and with the ruddy breath of fire he wasted
the masonry squared by Phoebus' line and chisel, and sacked
the land of Troy ; so twice in two attacks hath the blood-
stained spear destroyed Dardania's walls.

In vain, it seems, thou Phrygian boy,2 pacing with dainty
step amid thy golden chalices, dost thou fill high the cup of
Zeus, a service passing fair ; seeing that the land of thy birth
is being consumed by fire. The shore re-echoes to our cries ;
and, as a bird bewails its young, so we bewail our hus-

1 Heracles had destroyed a sea-monster for Laomedon on condition
of receiving a gift of horses for his trouble, and, on Laomedon re-
pudiating the promise, sacked Troy

2 Ganymede, a son of Tros.

THE TROJAN WOMEN. 249

bands or our children, or our grey-haired mothers The
dew-fed springs where thou didst bathe, the course where
thou didst train, are now no more ; but thou beside the
throne of Zeus art sitting with a calm, sweet smile upon thy
fair young face, while the spear of Hellas lays the land of
Priam waste. Ah ! Love, Love, who once didst seek these
Dardan halls, deep-seated in the hearts of heavenly gods,
how high didst thou make Troy to tower in those days,
allying her with deities ! But I will cease to urge reproaches
against Zeus ; for white-winged dawn, whose light to man is
dear, turned a baleful eye upon our land and watched the
ruin of our citadel, though she had within her bridal bower
a husband ; from this land, whom on a day a car of gold and
spangled stars caught up and carried thither, great source of
hope to his native country ; but all the love the gods once
had for Troy is passed away.

MEN. Hail ! thou radiant orb by whose fair light 1
now shall capture her that was my wife, e'en 2 Helen ; for I
am that Menelaus, who hath toiled so hard, I and Achaea's
host. To Troy I came, not so much as men suppose to take
this woman, but to punish him who from my house stole my
wife, traitor to my hospitality. But he, by heaven's will, hath
paid the penalty, ruined, and his country too, by the spear of
Hellas. And I am come to bear that Spartan woman hence
— wife I have no mind to call her, though she once was
mine ; for now she is but one among the other Trojan
dames who share these tents as captives. For they, — the very
men who toiled to take her with the spear, — have granted
her to me to slay, or, if I will, to spare and carry back with
me to Argos. Now my purpose is not to put her to death
in Troy, but to carry her to Hellas in my sea-borne ship,
and then surrender her to death, a recompense to all whose
friends were slain in Ilium. Ho ! my trusty men, enter the

1 Referring to the union of Aurora and Tithonus.

2 Herwerden rejects lines 862 — 863,, as spurious.

250 EURIPIDES. [L. 881-948

tent, and drag her out to me by her hair with many a murder
foul ; and when a favouring breeze shall blow, to Hellas will
we convey her.

HEC. O thou that dost support the earth and restest
thereupon, whosoe'er thou art, a riddle past our ken ! be
thou Zeus, or natural necessity, or man's intellect, to thee I
pray ; for, though thou treadest o'er a noiseless path, all thy
dealings with mankind are by justice guided.

MEN. How now? Strange the prayer thou offerest unto
heaven !

HEC. I thank thee, Menelaus, if thou wilt slay that wife
of thine. Yet shun the sight of her, lest she smite thee with
regret. For she ensnares the eyes of men, o'erthrows their
towns, and burns their houses, so potent are her witcheries !
Well I know her ; so dost thou and those her victims too.

HEL. Menelaus ! this prelude well may fill me with
alarm ; for I am haled with violence by thy servants' hands
and brought before these tents. Still, though I am well-
nigh sure thou hatest me, yet would I fain inquire what thou
and Hellas have decided about my life.

MEN. To judge thy case required no great exactness;1
the host with one consent, — that host whom thou didst
wrong, — handed thee over to me to die.

HEL. May I answer this decision, proving that my death,
if to die I am, will be unjust ?

MEN. I came not to argue, but to slay thee.

HEC. Hear her, Menelaus ; let her not die for want of that,
and let me answer her again, for thou knowest naught of
her villainies in Troy; and the whole case, if thus summed
up, will insure her death against all chance of an escape.

MEN. This boon needs leisure; still, if she wishes to
speak, the leave is given. Yet will I grant her this because
of thy words, that she may hear them, and not for her own
sake.

1 Reading OVK «'ff aicpipig 7/X0ef. The Schol. read f)\9(v.

THE TROJAN WOMEN. 251

HEL. Perhaps thou wilt not answer me, from counting
me a foe, whether my words seem good or ill. Yet will I
put my charges and thine over against each other, and then
reply to the accusations I suppose thou wilt advance against
me. First, then, she was the author of these troubles by
giving birth to Paris ; next, old Priam ruined Troy and me,
because he did not slay his babe Alexander, baleful sem-
blance of a fire-brand,1 long ago. Hear what followed.
This Paris was to judge the claims of three rival goddesses ;
so Pallas offered him command of all the Phrygians, and
the destruction of Hellas ; Hera promised he should spread
his dominion over Asia, and the utmost bounds of Europe,
if2 he would decide for her; but Cypris spoke in rapture
of my loveliness, and promised him this boon, if she should
have the preference o'er those twain for beauty ; now mark
the inference I deduce from this ; Cypris won the day o'er
them, and thus far hath my marriage proved of benefit to
Hellas, that ye are not subject to barbarian rule, neither
vanquished in the strife, nor yet by tyrants crushed. What
Hellas gained, was ruin to me, a victim for my beauty sold,
and now am I reproached for that which should have set
a crown upon my head. But thou wilt say I am silent on
the real matter at issue, how it was I started forth and left
thy house by stealth. With no mean goddess at his side
he came, my evil genius, call him Alexander or Paris,
as thou wilt; and him didst thou, thrice guilty wretch,
leave behind thee in thy house, and sail away from Sparta
to the land of Crete. Enough of this ! For all that followed
I must question my own heart, not thee; what frantic
thought led me to follow the stranger from thy house,
traitress to my country and my home ? Punish the goddess,
show thyself more mighty e'en than Zeus, who, though he

1 Hecuba had dreamt she would bear a son who would cause the
ruin of Troy ; on the birth of Paris an oracle confirmed her fears.
8 Line 928 is regarded by Nauck as spurious.

252 EURIPIDES. [L. 949-1014

lords it o'er the other gods, is yet her slave ; wherefore I
may well be pardoned. Still, from hence thou mightest
draw a specious argument against me ; when Paris died,
and Earth concealed his corpse, I should have left his
house and sought the Argive fleet, since my marriage was
no longer in the hands of gods. That was what I fain had
done ; yea, and the warders on the towers and watch-
men on the walls can bear me witness, for oft they found
me seeking to let myself down stealthily by cords from the
battlements ; but there was that new husband, Deiphobus,
that carried me off by force to be his wife against the will
of Troy. How then, my lord, could I be justly l put to
death by thee, with any show of right, seeing that he wedded
me against my will, and those my other natural gifts have
served a bitter slavery, instead of leading on to triumph?
If 'tis thy will indeed to master gods, that very wish displays
thy folly.

CHO. O my royal mistress, defend thy children's and
thy country's cause, bringing to naught her persuasive argu-
ments, for she pleads well in spite of all her villainy ; 'tis
monstrous this !

HEC. First will I take up the cause of those goddesses,
and prove how she perverts the truth. For I can ne'er
believe that Hera or the maiden Pallas would have been
guilty of such folly, as to sell, the one, her Argos to bar-
barians, or that Pallas e'er would make her Athens subject
to the Phrygians, coming as they did in mere wanton sport to
Ida to contest the palm of beauty. For why should goddess
Hera set her heart so much on such a prize? Was it to
win a nobler lord than Zeus ? or was Athena bent on rinding
'mongst the gods a husband, she who in her dislike of
marriage won from her sire the boon of remaining unwed ?

1 Hartung, to avoid the tautology, reads ai>tv SiKrjg for av
Ilerwerden, keeping this, conjectures diKavOtlff' for ducaiwc; in the next
line.

THE TROJAN WOMEN. 253

Seek not to impute folly to the goddesses, in the attempt
to gloze o'er thy own sin ; never wilt thou persuade the
wise. Next thou hast said, — what well may make men
jeer, — that Cypris came with my son to the house of
Menelaus. Could she not have stayed quietly in heaven
and brought thee and Amyclae to boot to Ilium ? Nay !
my son was passing fair, and when thou sawest him thy
fancy straight became thy Cypris ; for every sensual act that
men commit, they lay upon this goddess, and rightly does
her name of Aphrodite l begin the word for "senselessness";
so when thou didst catch sight of him in gorgeous foreign
garb, ablaze with gold, thy senses utterly forsook thee. Yea,
for in Argos thou hadst moved in simple state, but, once
free of Sparta, 'twas thy fond hope to deluge by thy lavish
outlay Phrygia's town, that flowed with gold ; nor was the
palace of Menelaus rich enough for thy luxury to riot in.
Ha ! my son carried thee off by force, so thou sayest ; what
Spartan saw this? what cry for help didst thou ever raise,
though Castor was still alive, a vigorous youth, and his
brother also, not yet amid the stars? Then when thou
wert come to Troy, and the Argives were on thy track, and
the mortal combat was begun, whenever tidings came to
thee of Menelaus' prowess, him wouldst thou praise, to grieve
my son, because he had so powerful a rival in his love ; but
if so the Trojans prospered, Menelaus was nothing to thee.
Thy eye was fixed on Fortune, and by such practice wert
thou careful to follow in her steps, careless of virtue's cause.
And then, in spite of all, thou dost assert that thou didst
try to let thyself down from the towers by stealth with
twisted cords, as if loth to stay? Pray then, wert thou ever
found fastening the noose about thy neck, or whetting the
knife, as a noble wife would have done in regret for her

1 It is almost impossible to reproduce the play on words in '
and atypoavvri ; perhaps the nearest approach would be "sensuality"
and " senseless."

'254 EURIPIDES. [L. 1015-1091

former husband? And yet full oft I advised thee saying,
" Get thee gone, daughter, and let my sons take other
brides ; I will help thee to steal away, and convey thee to
the Achaean fleet; oh end the strife 'twixt us and Hellas !"
But this was bitter in thy ears. For thou wert wantoning
in Alexander's house, fain to have obeisance done thee by
barbarians. Yes, 'twas a proud time for thee ; and now
after all this thou hast bedizened thyself, and come forth
and hast dared to appear under the same sky as thy husband,
revolting wretch ! Better hadst thou come in tattered
raiment, cowering humbly in terror, with hair shorn short,
if for thy past sins thy feeling were one of shame rather
than effrontery. O Menelaus, hear the conclusion of my
argument ; crown Hellas by slaying her as she deserves, and
establish this law for all others of her sex, e'en death to
every traitress to her husband.

CHO. Avenge thee, Menelaus, on thy wife, as is worthy of
thy home and ancestors, clear thyself from the reproach
of effeminacy at the lips of Hellas, and let thy foes see
thy spirit.

MEN. Thy thoughts with mine do coincide, that she,
without constraint, left my palace, and sought a stranger's
love, and now Cypris is introduced for mere bluster. Away
to those who shall stone thee, and by thy speedy death
requite the weary toils of the Achaeans, that thou mayst
learn not to bring shame on me !

HEL. Oh, by thy knees, I implore thee, impute not that
heaven-sent affliction to me, nor slay me ; pardon, I
entreat !

HEC. Be not false to thy allies, whose death this woman
caused ; on their behalf, and for my children's sake, I sue
to thee.

MEN. Peace, reverend dame; to her I pay no heed. Lol
I bid my servants take her hence, aboard the ship, wherein
she is to sail.

THE TROJAN WOMEN. 255

HEC. Oh never let her set foot within the same ship as
thee.

MEN. How now ? is she heavier than of yore ?

HEC. Who loveth once, must love alway.

MEN. Why, that depends how those we love are minded.
But thy wish shall be granted ; she shall not set foot upon
the same ship with me ; for thy advice is surely sound ;
and when she comes to Argos she shall die a shameful
death as is her due, and impress the need of chastity on all
her sex ; no easy task ; yet shall her fate strike their foolish
hearts with terror, e'en though they be more lost to shame l
than she.

{Exit MENELAUS, dragging HELEN with him.

CHO. So then thou hast delivered into Achaea's hand, O
Zeus, thy shrine in Ilium and thy fragrant altar, the
offerings of burnt sacrifice with smoke of myrrh to heaven
uprising, and holy Pergamos, and glens of Ida tangled with
the ivy's growth, where rills of melting snow pour down
their flood, a holy sun-lit land that bounds the world and
takes the god's first rays ! Gone are thy sacrifices ! gone
the dancer's cheerful shout ! gone the vigils of the gods as
night closed in ! Thy images of carven gold are now no
more ; and Phrygia's holy festivals, twelve times a year, at
each full moon, are ended now. Tis this that filleth me
with anxious thought whether thou, O king, seated on the
sky, thy heavenly throne, carest at all that my city is de-
stroyed, a prey to the furious fiery blast. Ah ! my husband,
fondly loved, thou art a wandering spectre ; unwashed, un-
buried lies thy corpse, while o'er the sea the ship sped by
wings will carry me to Argos, land of steeds, where stand
Cyclopian walls of stone upreared to heaven. There in the
gate the children gather, hanging round their mothers'
necks, and weep their piteous lamentation, " O mother, woe
is me ! torn from thy sight Achaeans bear me away from thee
1 Reading with Nauck

256 EURIPIDES. [L. 1092-1169

to their dark ship to row me o'er the deep to sacred
Salamis or to the hill l on the Isthmus, that o'erlooks two
seas, the key to the gates of Pelops. Oh may the blazing
thunderbolt, hurled in might from its holy home, smite the
barque of Menelaus full amidships as it is crossing the ^Kgean2
main, since he is carrying me away in bitter sorrow from the
shores of Ilium to be a slave in Hellas, while the daughter
of Zeus still keeps her golden mirrors, delight of maidens'
hearts. Never may he reach his home in Laconia or his
father's hearth and home, nor come to the town of Pitane 3
or the temple of the goddess4 with the gates of bronze,
having taken as his captive her whose marriage brought
disgrace on Hellas through its length and breadth and
woful anguish on the streams of Simois ! Ah me ! ah me !
new troubles on my country fall, to take the place of those
that still are fresh ! Behold, ye hapless wives of Troy, the
corpse of Astyanax ! whom the Danai have cruelly slain by
hurling him from the battlements.

[Enter TALTHYBIUS and attendants, bearing the corpse

<?/" ASTYANAX on HECTOR'S shield.

TAL. Hecuba, one ship alone delays its plashing oars, and
it is soon to sail to the shores of Phthia freighted with the
remnant of the spoils of Achilles' son ; for Neoptolemus is
already out at sea, having heard that new calamities have
befallen Peleus, for Acastus, son of Pelias, hath banished
him the realm. Wherefore he is gone, too quick to indulge
in any delay, and with him goes Andromache, who drew
many a tear from me what time she started hence, wailing her
country and crying her farewell to Hector's tomb. And she

1 i.e. Acrocorinthus, which would overlook the Corinthian and
Saronic gulfs ; the Isthmus may fairly be called the key to the Pelo-
ponnesus.

a Hartung, whose reading is here followed, has Atyatoi/ SiirdXrov
\fpb'-, r.r.X.

3 Part of Sparta was so called.

4 Athena of " the Brazen House," a temple on the acropolis.

THE TROJAN WOMEN. 257

craved her master leave to bury this poor dead child of Hec-
tor who breathed his last when from the turrets hurled,
entreating too that he would not carry this shield, the terror
of the Achaean s — this shield with plates of brass wherewith
his father would gird himself — to the home of Peleus or to
the same bridal bovver whither she, herself the mother of
this corpse, would be led, a bitter sight to her, but let her bury
the child therein instead of in a coffin of cedar or a tomb of
stone, and to thy hands commit the corpse that thou
mayst deck it with robes and garlands as best thou canst
with thy present means ; for she is far away and her master's
haste prevented her from burying the child herself. So we,
when thou the corpse hast decked1, will heap the earth above
and set l thereon a spear ; but do thou with thy best speed
perform thy allotted task ; one toil however have I already
spared thee, for I crossed Scamander's stream and bathed
the corpse and cleansed its wounds. But now will I go to
dig a grave for him, that our united efforts shortening our
task may speed our ship towards home. {Exit TALTHYBIUS.
HEC. Place the shield upon the ground, Hector's shield
so deftly rounded, a piteous sight, a bitter grief for me to
see. O ye Achaeans, more reason have ye to boast of your
prowess than your wisdom ! Why have ye in terror of this
child been guilty of a murder never matched before ? Did
ye fear that some day he would rear again the fallen walls of
Troy? It seems then ye were nothing after all, when,
though Hector's fortunes in the war were prosperous and he
had ten thousand other arms to back him, we still were
daily overmatched ; and yet, now that our city is taken and
every Phrygian slain, ye fear a tender babe like this ! Out
upon his fear ! say I, who fears, but never yet hath reasoned
out the cause. Ah ! my beloved, thine is a piteous death
indeed ! Hadst thou died for thy city, when thou hadst
tasted of the sweets of manhood, of marriage, and of god-
1 Reading apovfiei>, the correction of Elmsley and Matthiae.
S

258 EURIPIDES. [L. 1170-1234

like power o'er others, then wert thou blest, if aught
herein is blest. But now after one glimpse, one dream
thereof thou knowest them no more,1 my child, and hast
no joy of them, though heir to all. Ah, poor babe ! how
sadly have thy own father's walls, those towers that Loxias
reared, shorn from thy head the locks thy mother fondled,
and so oft caressed, from which through fractured bones
the face of murder grins, — briefly to dismiss my shocking
theme. O hands, how sweet the likeness ye retain of his
father, and yet ye lie limp in your sockets before me ! Dear
mouth, so often full of words of pride, death hath closed
thee, and thou hast not kept the promise thou didst
make, when nestling in my robe, " Ah, mother mine,
many a lock of my hair will I cut off for thee, and to thy
tomb will lead my troops of friends, taking a fond farewell
of thee." But now 'tis not thy hand that buries me, but I,
on whom is come old age with loss of home and children,
am burying thee, a tender child untimely slain. Ah me !
those kisses numberless, the nurture that I gave to thee,
those sleepless2 nights — they all are lost! What shall the
bard inscribe upon thy tomb about thee? " Argives once
for fear of him slew this child ! " Foul shame should that
inscription be to Hellas. O child, though thou hast no part
in all thy father's wealth, yet shalt thou have his brazen
shield wherein to find a tomb. Ah ! shield that didst keep
safe the comely arm of Hector, now hast thou lost thy
valiant keeper ! How fair upon thy handle lies his imprint,
and on the rim, that circles round the targe, are marks of
sweat, that trickled oft from Hector's brow as he pressed it
'gainst his beard in battle's stress. Come, bring forth, from
such store as we have, adornment for the hapless dead, for
fortune gives no chance now for offerings fair ; yet of such
as I possess, shalt thou receive these gifts. Foolish mortal

1 For OVK o?<T0' Hartung emends awolaff.

2 MSS. VTTVOI, Dobree TTOVOI, Hartung

THE TROJAN WOMEN.

he ! who thinks his luck secure and so rejoices ; for fortune,
like a madman in her moods, springs towards this man,
then towards that ; and none ever experiences the same
unchanging luck.

CHO. Lo ! all is ready and they are bringing at thy
bidding from the spoils of Troy garniture to put upon the
dead.

HEC. Ah ! my child, 'tis not as victor o'er thy comrades
with horse or bow, — customs Troy esteems, without pursuing
them to excess, — that Hector's mother decks thee now with
ornaments from the store that once was thine, though now
hath Helen, whom the gods abhor, reft thee of thine own,
yea, and robbed thee of thy life and caused thy house to
perish root and branch,

CHO. Woe ! thrice woe ! my heart is touched, and thou
the cause, my mighty prince in days now passed !

HEC. About thy body now I swathe this Phrygian robe
of honour, which should have clad thee on thy marriage-
day, wedded to the noblest of Asia's daughters. Thou too,
dear shield of Hector, victorious parent of countless
triumphs past, accept thy crown, for though thou share the
dead child's tomb, death cannot touch thee ; for thou dost
merit honours far beyond those arms l that the crafty knave
Odysseus won.

CHO. Alas ! ah me ! thee, O child, shall earth take to her
breast, a cause for bitter weeping. Mourn, thou mother !

HEC. Ah me !

CHO. Wail for the dead.

HEC. Woe is me !

CHO. Alas ! for thy unending sorrow !

HEC. Thy wounds in part will I bind up with bandages,
a wretched leech in name alone, without reality; but for
the rest, thy sire must look to that amongst the dead.

1 i.e. the arms of Achilles, which were set up as a prize, and won by
Odysseus from Aias.

260 EURIPIDES. [L. 1235-1304

CHO. Smite, oh smite upon thy head with frequent blow of
hand. Woe is me !

HEC. My kind, good friends !

CHO. Speak out,1 Hecuba, the word that was on thy
lips.

HEC. It seems the only things that heaven concerns itself
about are my troubles and Troy hateful in their eyes above all
other cities. In vain did we sacrifice to them. Had not *
the god caught us in his grip and plunged us headlong
'neath the earth, we should have been unheard of, nor ever
sung in Muses' songs, furnishing to bards of after-days a
subject for their minstrelsy. Go, bury now in his poor tomb
the dead, wreathed all duly as befits a corpse. And yet
I deem it makes but little difference to the dead, although
they get a gorgeous funeral ; for this is but a cause of idle
pride to the living. \_The corpse is carried off to burial.

CHO. Alas ! for thy unhappy mother, who o'er 3 thy corpse
hath closed the high hopes of her life ! Born of a noble
stock, counted most happy in thy lot, ah ! what a tragic death
is thine ! Ha ! who are those I see on yonder pinnacles
darting to and fro with flaming torches in their hands?
Some new calamity will soon on Troy alight.

[Soldiers are seen on the battlements of Troy, torch in
hand.

TAL. Ye captains, whose allotted task it is to fire this
town of Priam, to you I speak. No longer keep the fire-
brand idle in your hands, but launch the flame, that when
we have destroyed the city of Ilium we may set forth in
gladness on our homeward voyage from Troy. And you, ye
sons of Troy, — to let my orders take at once a double form
— start for the Achaean ships for your departure hence, soon
as ever the leaders of the host blow loud and clear upon the

1 Reading with Musgrave aa<$ trcTre, Hermann Qapaiiaaa t
1 Reading ei Si ft/} for the old cc 3'
» MSS. M, Person ^.

THE TROJAN WOMEN. 26 1

trumpet. And thou, unhappy grey-haired dame, follow ; for
yonder come servants from Odysseus to fetch thee, for to
him thou art assigned by lot to be a slave far from thy
country.

HEC. Ah, woe is me ! This surely is the last, the utmost
limit this, of all my sorrows ; forth from my land I go ; my
city is ablaze with flame. Yet, thou aged foot, make one
painful struggle to hasten, that I may say a farewell to this
wretched town. O Troy, that erst hadst such a grand
career amongst barbarian towns, soon wilt thou be reft of
that splendid name. Lo ! they are burning thee, and
leading us e'en now from our land to slavery. Great gods !
Yet why call on the gods ? They did not hearken e'en afore-
time to our call. Come, let us rush into the flames, for to
die with my country in its blazing ruin were a noble death
for me.

TAL. Thy sorrows drive thee frantic, poor lady. Go, lead
her hence, make no delay, for ye must deliver her into the
hand of Odysseus, conveying to hi n his prize.

HEC. O son of Cronos, prince of Phrygia, father of our
race, dost thou behold our sufferings now, unworthy of the
stock of Dardanus?

CHO. He sees them, but our mighty city is a city no more,
and Troy's day is done.

HEC. Woe ! thrice woe upon me ! Ilium is ablaze ; the
homes of Pergamos and its towering walls ' are now one sheet
of flame.

CHO. As the smoke soars on wings to heaven,2 so sinks our
city to the ground before the spear. With furious haste both
fire and foeman's spear devour each house.

HEC. Hearken, my children, hear your mother's voice.

CHO. Thou art calling on the dead with voice of lamen-
tation.

1 Reading KaraiOfTat TtpffAva r' dicpa re. rft^w*"*

2 Reading with Reiske ovpavtq.

262 EURIPIDES. [L. 1305-1334

HEC. Yea, as I stretch my aged limbs upon the ground,
and beat upon the earth with both my hands.

CHO. I follow thee and kneel, invoking from the nether
world my hapless husband.

HEC. I am being dragged and hurried away —
- CHO. O the sorrow of that cry !

HEC. From my own dear country, to dwell beneath a
master's roof. Woe is me ! O Priam, Priam, slain, unburied,
left without a friend, naught dost thou know of my cruel
fate.

CHO. No, for o'er his eyes black death hath drawn his
pall, — a holy man by sinners slain !

HEC. Woe for the temples of the gods ! Woe for our dear
city!

CHO. Woe !

HEC. Murderous flame and foeman's spear are now your
lot.

CHO. Soon will ye tumble to your own loved soil, and be
forgotten.

HEC. And the dust, mounting to heaven on wings like
smoke, will rob me of the sight of my home.

CHO. The name of my country will pass into obscurity ;
all is scattered far and wide, and hapless Troy has ceased
to be.

HEC. Did ye hear that and know its purport ?

CHO. Aye, 'twas the crash of the citadel.

HEC. The shock will whelm our city utterly. O woe is
me ! trembling, quaking limbs, support my footsteps ! away !
to face the day that begins thy slavery.

CHO. Woe for our unhappy town ! And yet to the
Achaean fleet advance.

HEC. Woe for thee, O land that nursed my little babes !

CHO. Ah ! woe !

ION.

DRAMATIS PERSONS.

HERMES.

ION.

CHORUS OF CREUSA'S HANDMAIDENS

CREUSA.

XUTHUS.

OLD MAN SERVANT.
SERVANT OF CREUSA.
PYTHIAN PRIESTESS.
ATHENA.

SCENE.— Before Apollo's temple at Delphi.

ION.

HER. Atlas, who bears upon his brazen back * the pressure
of the sky, ancient dwelling of the gods, begat Maia from a
daughter of one of those gods, and she bare me Hermes to
mighty Zeus, to be the servant of the powers divine. Lo !
I am come to this land of Delphi where sits Phoebus on the
centre of the world and giveth oracles to men, ever chanting
lays prophetic of things that are to be. Now there is a city
in Hellas of no small note, called after Pallas, goddess of
the golden lance ; there did Phoebus force his love on
Creusa, daughter of Erechtheus, beneath the rock of Pallas,
northward of Athens' steep realm, called Macrae by the kings
of Attica. And she without her father's knowledge — for
such was the god's good pleasure, — bore the burden in her
womb unto the end, and when her time came, she brought
forth a child in the house and carried him away to the self-
same cave wherein the god declared his love to her, and
she cradled him in the hollow of a rounded ark and cast
him forth to die, observant of the custom of her ancestors
and of earth-born Erich thonius, whom the daughter of Zeus
gave into the charge of the daughters2 of Agraulus, after
setting on either side, to keep him safe, a guard of serpents
twain. Hence in that land3 among the Erechthidse 'tis a

1 To avoid the cretic foot in VUTOIQ ovpavov, Nauck proposes vwrotoiv
0£p(ui' regarding itcrpifiuv as spurious though not yet emended. In the
text here an endeavour has been made to translate iicrpipuv.

2 i.e. the daughters of Cecrops, a mythical king of Attica.

3 For tfcel Barnes reads tri.

266 EURIPIDES. [L. 25-105

custom to protect their babes with charms of golden snakes.
But ere she left the babe to die, the young mother tied
about him her own broidered robe. And this is the request
that Phcebus craves of me, for he is my brother, "Go, brother,
to those children of the soil that dwell in glorious Athens,
for well thou knowest Athena's city, and take a new-bom
babe from out the hollow rock, his cradle and his swaddling-
clothes as well, and bear him to my prophetic shrine at
Delphi, and set him at the entering-in of my temple. What
else remains shall be my care, for that child is mine, that
thou mayst know it." So I, to do my brother Loxias a ser-
vice, took up the woven ark and bore it off, and at the
threshold of the shrine I have laid the babe, after opening
the lid of the wicker cradle that the child might be seen.
But just as the sun-god was starting forth to run his course, a
priestess chanced to enter the god's shrine ; and when her
eyes lit upon the tender babe she thought it strange that
any Delphian maid should dare to cast her child of shame
down at the temple of the god ; wherefore her purpose was
to remove him beyond the altar, but from pity she renounced
her cruel thought, and the god to help his child did second
her pity to save the babe from being cast out. So she took
and brought him up, but she knew not that Phcebus was his
sire nor of the mother that bare him, nor yet did the child
know his parents. While yet he was a child, around the altar
that fed him he would ramble at his play, but when he came
to man's estate, the Delphians made him treasurer of the
god and steward of all his store, and found him true, and so
until the present day he leads a holy life in the god's temple.
Meantime Creusa, mother of this youth, is wedded to
Xuthus ; and thus it came to pass ; a war broke out 'twixt
Athens and the folk of Chalcodon1 who dwell in the land of
Eubcea ; and Xuthus took part therein and helped to end it,
for which he received the hand of Creusa as his guerdon,
1 The Euboeans are so called from Chalcodon, a king of Eubcea.

ION. 267

albeit he was no native, but an Achaean, sprung from ^Eolus,
the son of Zeus ; and after many years of wedded life he and
Creusa still are childless ; wherefore they are come to this
oracle of Apollo in their desire for offspring. To this end
is Loxias guiding their destiny nor hath it escaped his ken,
as some suppose. For when Xuthus enters this shrine, the
god will give him his own son and declare that Xuthus is
the sire, that so the boy may come to his mother's home
and be acknowledged by Creusa, while the marriage of
Loxias remains a secret and the child obtains his rights;
and he shall cause him to be called Ion, founder of a realm
in Asia, through all the breadth of Hellas. But now will I get
me to yon grotto 'neath the laurel's shade that I may learn
what is decreed about the child. For I see the son of
Loxias now coming forth to cleanse the gateway in front of
the temple with boughs of laurel. I greet him first of all
the gods by his name Ion which he soon shall bear.

ION. Lo ! the sun-god is e'en now turning towards the
earth his chariot-car resplendent ; before l yon fire the stars
retire to night's mysterious gloom from forth the firma-
ment ; the peaks of Parnassus, where no man may set foot,
are all ablaze and hail the car of day for mortal's service.
To Phoebus' roof mounts up the smoke of myrrh, offering of
the desert; there on the holy tripod sits the Delphian
priestess, chanting to the ears of Hellas in numbers loud,
whate'er Apollo doth proclaim. Ye Delphians, votaries of
Phoebus, away ! to Castalia's gushing fount as silver clear, and,
when ye have bathed you in its waters pure, enter the shrine ;
and keep your lips in holy silence that it may be well,
careful to utter words of good omen amongst yourselves
to those who wish to consult the oracle; while I with
laurel-sprays and sacred wreaths and drops of water sprinkled
o'er the floor will purify the entrance to the shrine of
Phcebus, my task each day from childhood's hour; and
1 Reading \vith Badham aarpa di Qtvyet irvp rod' OTT'

268 EURIPIDES. [L. 106-200

with my bow will I put to flight the flocks of feathered fowls
that harm his sacred offerings ; for here in Phoebus' shrine,
which nurtured me, I minister, an orphan, fatherless and
motherless.

Come, thou tender laurel-shoot, gathered from gardens
divine to wait upon the glorious god, thou that sweepest
clean the altar of Phcebus hard by his shrine, where
holy founts, that ever gush with ceaseless 1 flow, bedew the
myrtle's hallowed spray wherewith I cleanse the temple-
floor the livelong day, so soon as the swift sun-god wings his
flight on high, in my daily ministration. Hail Paean, prince
of healing ! blest, ah ! no^My blest be thou, child of Latona !
Pair the service that I render to thee, Phcebus, before thy
house, honouring thy seat of prophecy ; a glorious task I
count it, to serve not mortal man but deathless gods ;
wherefore I never weary of performing holy services.
Phcebus is to me as the father that begot me, for as such I
praise the god that gives me food. 'Tis Phcebus, who
dvvelleth in the temple, whom I call by that helpful name of
father. Hail Paean, healing god, good luck to thee and
blessing, child of Latona ! My task is nearly done of
sweeping with the laurel broom, so now from a golden ewer
will I sprinkle o'er the ground water from Castalia's gushing
spring, scattering the liquid dew with hands from all defile-
ment free. Oh may I never cease thus to serve Phoebus, or,
if I do, may fortune smile upon me !

Ha ! they corne, the feathered tribes, leaving their nests on
Parnassus. I forbid ye to settle on the coping or enter the
gilded dome. Thou herald of Zeus, that masterest the might
of other birds with those talons of thine, once more shall my
arrow o'ertake thee.

Lo ! another comes sailing towards the altar, a swan this

1 TO.V aivaov — there is something wanting to the metre, and the text is
probably corrupt. Various suggestions for an emendation have been
offered, e.g., yag rav by Hermann, 'pvrav by Fritzsch, etc.

ION. 269

time; take thy bright plumes elsewhere ; the lyre that Phoebus
tuneth to thy song shall never save thee from the bow ; so
fly away, and settle at the Delian mere, for l if thou wilt not
hearken, thy blood shall choke the utterance of thy fair
melody.

Ha ! what new bird comes now ? Does it mean to lodge
a nest of dry straw for its brood beneath the gables ? Soon
shall my twanging bow drive thee away. Dost not hear
me? Away and rear thy young amid the streams of swirling
Alpheus, or get thee to the woody Isthmian glen, that
Phoebus' offerings and his shrine may take no hurt. I am
loth to slay ye, ye messengers to mortal man of messages
from heaven ; still must I serve Phoebus, to whose tasks I
am devoted, nor will I cease to minister to those that give
me food.

IST CHO.S It is not in holy Athens only that there are
courts of the gods with fine colonnades, and the worship of
Apollo, guardian of highways; but here, too, at the shrine of
Loxias, son of Latona, shines the lovely eye of day on faces
twain.3

2ND CHO. Just look at this ! here is the son 4 of Zeus
killing with his scimitar of gold the watersnake of Lerna.
Do look at him, my friend !

IST CHO. Yes, I see. And close to him stands another
with a blazing torch uplifted ; who is he ? Can this be the
warrior lolaus whose story is told on my broidery, who
shares with the son of Zeus his labours and helps him in
the moil ?

1 Kirchhoff's ingenious suggestion is ai/ui£a> d el pi} wavotiQ, ic.r.X.

* Hermann's arrangement is followed, as in Paley's text, in the dis-
tribution of lines amongst the several members of the chorus.

3 It is doubtful what is here intended, statues or pictures. Paley
suggests that the sun and moon, symbols of Apollo and Latona, are
indicated ; or possibly a temple with two fronts covered with frescoes
is to be understood.

* Heracles.

270 EURIPIDES. [L. 201-259

3RD CHO. Oh ! but look at this ! a man l mounted on a
winged horse, killing a fire-breathing monster with three
bodies.

IST CHO. I am turning my eyes in every direction. Be-
hold the rout of the giants carved on these walls of stone.

4TH CHO. Yes, yes, good friends, I am looking.

5TH CHO. Dost see her standing over Enceladus brandish-
ing her shield with the Gorgon's head ?

6xH CHO. I see Pallas, my own goddess.

7TH CHO. Again, dost see the massy thunderbolt all aflame
in the far-darting hands of Zeus ?

STH CHO. I do ; 'tis blasting with its flame Mimas, that
deadly foe.

QTH CHO. Bromius too, the god of revelry, is slaying
another of the sons of Earth with his thyrsus of ivy, never
meant for battle.

IST CHO. Thou that art stationed by this fane, to thee I
do address me, may we pass the threshold of these vaults,
with our fair white feet ? 2

ION. Nay, ye must not, stranger ladies.

IOTH CHO. May I ask thee about something I have heard?

ION. What wouldst thou ask ?

IITH CHO. Is it really true that the temple of Phcebus
stands upon the centre of the world ?

ION. Aye, there it stands with garlands decked and
gorgeous all around.

I2TH CHO. E'en so the legend saith.

ION. If ye have offered a sacrificial cake before the shrine
and have aught ye wish to ask Phcebus, approach the altar ;
but enter not the inmost sanctuary, save ye have sacrificed
sheep.

1 Bellerophon and the Chimaera.

2 After TToSt something is wanting ; Dindorf supplies paXbv ( = thres-
hold) which had also occurred to Hermann, and is adopted in Nauck's
text.

ION. 271

I3TH CHO. I understand ; but we have no mind to tres-
pass against the god's law ; the pictures here without will
amuse us.

ION. Feast your eyes on all ye may.
I4TH CHO. My mistress gave me leave to see these vaulted
chambers.

ION. Whose handmaids do ye avow yourselves ?

I5TH CHO. The temple, where Pallas dwells, is the
nursing-home of my lords. But lo ! here is she of whom
thou askest.

ION. Lady, whosoe'er thou art, I see thou art of noble
birth, and thy bearing proves thy gentle breeding. For from
his bearing one may mostly judge whether a man is nobly
born. Yet am I much amazed to see thee close thine eyes
in grief and with tears bedew thy noble face, when thou
standest face to face with the holy oracle of Loxias. Why,
lady, art thou thus disquieted ? Here, where all others
show their joy at sight of Phoebus' sanctuary, thine eye is
wet with tears.

CRE. Most courteously, sir stranger, dost thou express sur-
prise at these my tears ; the sight of this temple of Apollo
recalled to me a memory of long ago, and somehow my
thoughts went wandering home,1 though I am here myself.
Ah, hapless race of women ! ah, ye reckless gods ! What
shall I say? to what standard shall we refer justice if through
the injustice of our lords and masters we are brought to
ruin?

ION. Why, lady, art thou thus cast down, past all finding
out?2

CRE. Tis naught; I have shot my bolt; for what remains,
I say no more, nor seek thou further to inquire.

ION. Who art thou and whence ? who is the father that
begat thee ? by what name are we to call thee ?

1 MSS. OIKOI, Nauck iicn.
a MSS. dvipsvvrjTa, Nauck a

272 EURIPIDES. [L. 260-300

CRE. Creusa is my name, the daughter of Erechtheus I ;
my native land is Athens.

ION. A glorious city thine, lady, a noble line of ancestry !
with what reverence I behold thee !

CRE. Thus far, no further goes my luck, good sir.

ION. Pray, is the current legend true

CRE. What is thy question ? I fain would learn.

ION. Was thy father's grandsire really sprung from Earth?

CRE. Yes, Erichthonius was; but my high birth avails
me not.

ION. Is it true Athena reared him from the ground ?

CRE. Aye, and into maidens' hands, though not his
mother's —

ION. Consigned him, did she ? as 'tis wont to be set forth
in painting.

CRE. Yes, to the daughters of Cecrops, to keep him safe
unseen.

ION. I have heard the maidens opened the ark wherein
the goddess laid him.

CRE. And so they died, dabbling with their blood the
rocky cliff.

ION. Even so. But what of this next story ? Is it true
or groundless ?

CRE. What is thy question? Ask on, I have no calls
upon my leisure.

ION. Did thy sire Erechtheus offer thy sisters as a sacri-
fice?

CRE. For his country's sake he did endure to slay the
maids as victims.

ION. And how didst thou, alone of al thy sisters,
escape ?

CRE. I was still a tender babe in my mother's arms.

ION. Did the earth really open its mouth and swallow
thy father ?

CRE. The sea-god smote and slew him with his trident.

ION. 273

ION. Is there a spot there called Macrae ?

CRE. Why ask that ? what memories thou recallest !

ION. Doth the Pythian god with his flashing fire do honour
to the place ?

CRE. Honour,1 yes ! Honour, indeed ! would I had
never seen the spot !

ION. How now? dost thou abhor that which the god
holds dear ?

CRE. No, no ; but I and that cave are witnesses of a deed
of shame.

ION. Lady, who is the Athenian lord that calls thee
wife ?

CRE. No citizen of Athens, but a stranger from another
land.

ION. Who is he? he must have been one of noble
birth.

CRE. Xuthus, son of ^Eolus, sprung from Zeus.

ION. And how did he, a stranger, win thee a native
born?

CRE. Hard by Athens lies a neighbouring township,
Eubcea.

ION. With a bounding line of waters in between, so I have
heard.

CRE. This did he sack, making common cause with
Cecrops' sons.

ION. Coming as an ally, maybe; he won thy hand for
this?

CRE. Yes, this was his dower of battle, the prize of his
prowess.

ION. Art thou come to the oracle alone, or with thy
lord?

CRE. With him. But he is now visiting the cavern of
Trophonius.

1 Reading r»//«. n' n/«£ ; but Bothe's ri/i£ y "anju'' w<, which is
adopted in Nauck's text, is a tempting emendation.

274 EURIPIDES. [L. 301-342

ION. As a spectator merely, or to consult the oracle ?

CRE. 'Tis his wish to hear the self-same answer from Tro-
jihonius and Phoebus too.

ION. Is it to seek earth's produce or fruit of offspring that
ye come ?

CRE. We are childless, though wedded these many
years.

ION. Hast thou never been a mother ? art thou wholly
childless?

CRE. Phcebus knows whether I am childless.

ION. Unhappy wife ! how this doth mar thy fortune else
so happy !

CRE. But who art thou ? how blest I count tliy mother !

ION. Lady, I am called the servant of Apollo, and so
I am.

CRE. An offering of thy city, or sold to him by some
master ?

ION. Naught know I but this, that I am called the slave
of Loxias.

CRE. Then do I in my turn pity thee, sir stranger.

ION. Because I know not her that bare me, or him that
begat me.

CRE. Is thy home here in the temple, or hast thou a
house to dwell in?

ION. The god's whole temple is my house, wherever sleep
o'ertakes me.

CRE. Was it as a child or young man that thou earnest to
the temple?

ION. Those who seem to know the truth, say I was but a
babe.

CRE. What Delphian maid, then, weaned thee ?

ION. I never knew a mother's breast. But she who
brought me up —

CRE. Who was she, unhappy youth ? I see thy sufferings
In my own.

ION. 275

ION. The priestess of Phoebus; I look on her as my
mother.

CRE. Until thou earnest unto man's estate, what nurture
hadst thou ?

ION. The altar fed me, and the bounty of each casual
guest.

CRE. Woe is thy mother, then, whoe'er she was !

ION. Maybe my birth was some poor woman's wrong.

CRE. Hast thou any store, for thy dress is costly
enough ?

ION. The god I serve gives me these robes to wear.

CRE. Wert thou never eager to inquire into thy birth ?

ION. Ah ! yes, lady ! but I have no clue at all to guide me.

CRE. Alas ! I know another woman who hath suffered as
thy mother did.

ION. Who is she? If she would but help me in the task,
how happy should I be !

CRE. 'Tis she on whose account I have preceded my
husband hither.

ION. What are thy wishes? be sure I will serve thee, lady.

CRE. I would fain obtain a secret answer from Apollo's
oracle.

ION. Name it, then ; the rest will I undertake for thee.

CRE. Hear, then, this story. Yet am I ashamed.

ION. Thus wilt thou accomplish naught, for shame is a
goddess slow to act.

CRE. A friend of mine asserts that Phoebus lay with her.

ION. Phoebus with a mortal woman? Stranger lady, say
not so.

CRE. Yea, and she bare the god a child without her
father's knowledge.

ION. It cannot be ; some man did wrong her, and she is
ashamed of it.

CRE. This she denies herself; and she hath suiTered
further woe.

2/6 EURIHDES. [L. 343-393

ION. How so, if she was wedded to a god ?

CRE. The babe she bare she did expose.

ION. Where is the child who was thus cast forth ? is he
yet alive ?

CRE. No man knoweth. That is the very thing I would
ask the oracle.

ION. But if he be no more, how did he perish?

CRE. She supposes that beasts devoured the hapless
babe.

ION. What proof led her to form this opinion ?

CRK. She came to the place where she exposed him, but
found him no longer there.

ION. Were any drops of blood upon the path ?

CRE. None, she says ; and yet she ranged the ground to
and fro.

ION. How long is it since the babe was destroyed?

CRE. Thy age and his would measure out the self-same
span, were he alive.

ION. Hath she given birth to no other child since then ?

CRK. The god doth wrong her, and wretched is she in
having no child.

ION. But what if Phoebus privily removed her child, and
is rearing it ?

CRE. Then is he acting unfairly T in keeping to himself
alone a joy he ought to share.

ION. Ah me ! this misfortune sounds so like my own.

CRE. Thee too, fair sir, thy poor mother misses, I am
sure.

ION. Oh ! call me not back to piteous thoughts I had for-
gotten.

CRE. I am dumb ; proceed with that which touches my
inquiry.

ION. Dost know the one weak point in this thy story ?

1 Paley's explanation is, " though he rejoices in doing justice publicly,
(viz. by his oracles,) he does not in his private actions."

ION. 277

CRE. 'Tis all weak in that poor lady's case.

ION. How should the god declare that which he wishes
hidden ?

CRE. He must, if here upon the tripod he sits for all
Hellas to seek to.

ION. He is ashamed of the deed ; do not question him.

CRE. Aye, but his victim has her sorrows too.

ION. There is none who will act as thy medium in this.
For were Phcebus in his own temple proved a villain, he
would justly wreak his vengeance on the man who ex-
pounded to thee his oracles ; desist then, lady ; we must
not prophesy against the god's will, for it would be the
height l of folly in us, were we to try and make the gods
against their will declare reluctant truths either by sacrifice
of sheep at their altars, or by omens from birds. For those
answers we strive to extort from heaven, lady, are goods
that bring no blessing on our getting ; but what they freely
offer, thereby we profit.

CHO. Many are the chances that befall the many tribes
of men, and diverse are their forms. But scarce one happy
scene canst thou find in all the life of man.

CRE. Ah ! Phcebus, here as there, art thou unjust to that
absent sufferer, whose cause I now am pleading. Thou
didst not preserve thy child, as in duty bound, nor wilt
thou, for all thy prophetic skill, answer his mother's ques-
tioning, that, if he be no more, a mound may be raised o'er
him, or, if he live, he may some day be restored to his
mother's eyes. In vain 2 is this the home of oracles if the
god prevents me from learning what I wish to ask. But
lo ! I see my noble lord, Xuthus, nigh at hand, returning

1 Reading with Badham tig TOVO\CITOV yap.

* Following Nauck's reading aXXwf tdtj \py. Paley suggests that the
old reading tpi/was a copyist's abbreviation for i$tpttn>(it>, giving as the
sense, " if the god will not vouchsafe any information, 1 must make
inquiries for myself."

278 EURIPIDES. [L. 394-470

from the lair of Trophonius ; say nothing, sir, to my husband
of what I have told thee, lest I incur reproach for troubling
about secrets, and the matter take a different turn to that
which I sought to give it. For women stand towards men
in a difficult position, and the virtuous from being mingled
with the wicked amongst us are hated ; such is our unhappy
destiny.

XUT. First to the god all hail ! for he must receive the
first-fruits of my salutation, and next all hail to thee, my
wife ! Has my delay in arriving caused thee alarm ?

CRE. By no means ; but thou 1 art come at an anxious
time. Tell me what response thou bringest from Tropho-
nius, touching our future hopes of mutual offspring.

XUT. He deigned not to forestal the prophecies of
Phoebus. This only did he say, that neither thou nor I
should return unto our house childless from the shrine.

CRE. Majestic mother of Phoebus, to our journey grant
success, and may our previous dealings with thy son now
find a better issue !

XUT. It will be so ; but who acts as the god's spokesman
here?

ION. I serve outside the shrine, others within, who stand
near trie tripod, even the noblest of the Delphians chosen by
4ot, sir stranger.

XUT. 'Tis well ; I have attained the utmost of my wishes.
I will go within ; for I am told that a victim has been slain
in public before the temple for strangers, and to-day, — for it
is a lucky day, — I would fain receive the god's oracle. Do
thou, my wife, take branches of laurel, and seated at the
altars pray to the gods that I may carry home from Apollo's
shrine an answer that bodeth well for offspring.

CRE. All this shall be. Now, at any rate, if Loxias would
retrieve his former sins, e'en though he cannot be my friend

1 Badham reads a^i'yjtij i>.

ION. 279

entirely, yet will I accept whate'er he deigns to give, because
he is a god. {Exeunt XUTHUS and CREUSA.

ION. Why doth this stranger lady hint dark reproaches
against the god unceasingly, either out of affection for her
on whose behalf she seeks the oracle, or maybe because she
is hiding something needing secrecy ? Yet what have I to
do with the daughter of Erectheus ? She is naught to me.
No, I will go to the laver, and from golden ewers sprinkle
the holy water. Yet must I warn Phoebus of what is hap-
pening to him ; he ravishes a maid and proves unfaithful to
her, and after secretly begetting a son leaves him to die. O !
Phoebus, do not so, but as thou art supreme, follow in
virtue's track ; for whosoever of mortal men transgresses,
him the gods punish. How, then, can it be just that you
should enact your laws for men, and yourselves incur the
charge of breaking them ? Now I will put this case, though
it will never happen. VVert thou, wert Poseidon, and Zeus,
the lord of heaven, to make atonement to mankind for every
act of lawless love, ye would empty your temples in paying
the fines for your misdeeds. For when ye pursue pleasure
in preference to the claims ' of prudence, ye act unjustly ; no
longer is it fair to call men wicked, if we are imitating the
evil deeds of gods, but rather those who give us such
examples. [Exit ION.

CHO. On thee I call, Athena mine, at whose birth-throes
no kindly goddess lent her aid, delivered as thou wert by
Titan Prometheus from the forehead of Zeus. Come, O lady
Victory, come to the Pythian shrine, winging thy way from
the gilded chambers of Olympus to the city's streets, where
Phoebus at his altar on the centre of the world brings his
oracles to pass beside the dance-encircled tripod; come,
too, thou daughter of Latona, together come, ye virgin god-
desses, fair sisters of Phoebus ! And be this your prayer, fair
maidens, that the ancient house of Erechtheus may obtain
1 Conington proposes Trt/oa for the MSS. 7rapo£.

280 EURIPIDES. [L. 471-535

by clear oracles the blessing of children, though late it come.
For this brings to man a settled source of all-surpassing bliss,
even to such as see in their ancestral halls a splendid race of
strong young parents blest with offspring,1 to inherit from their
sires their wealth in due succession after other children ; yea,
for they are a defence in time of trouble, and add a charm
to weal, affording to their fatherland a saving help in battle.
Give me before the pomp of wealth or royal marriages the
careful nurture of noble children. The childless life I do
abhor, and him who thinks it good I blame ; to a h ppy life
amongst my children, blest with moderate wealth, m. y I hold
fast.

Ye haunts of Pan, and rocks hard by the grots of
Macrae, where Agraulos' daughters three trip it lightly o'er
the green grass-lawns before the shrine of Pallas, to the
music of the piper's varied note, what time thou, Pan, art
piping in those caves of thine, where a maiden once that
had a child by Phoebus, unhappy mother ! exposed her babe,
forced issue of her woful wooing, for birds to tear and
beasts to rend, a bloody banquet ! Never have I seen it
told in woven tale or legend that children born to gods by
daughters of earth have any share in bliss.

ION. Attendant maids, that watch and wait your mistress
here at the steps of the temple fragrant with incense, say,
hath Xuthus already left the holy tripod and the sanc-
tuary, or doth he still abide within to ask yet further of his
childlessness ?

CHO. He is still in the temple, sir, nor hath he passed
this threshold yet. But hark ! I hear a footstep at the outlet
of the door, and lo ! thou mayst see my master this moment
coming out.

XUT. All hail ! my son ; that word suits well as my first
greeting to thee.

1 Musgrave reads Kovporpofoi. The meaning apparently is, houses
where two or three generations are represented.

ION. 28l

ION. Tis well with me ; do but restrain thyself, and then
both of us will be happy.

XUT. Give me thy hand to grasp, thy body to embrace.

ION. Art thou in thy senses, sir, or hath some spiteful god
reft thee of them ?

XUT. I am in my senses, for I have found what I hold
most dear, and am eager to show my love.

ION. Cease ! touch me not, nor tear these garlands of the
god!

XUT. I will embrace thee, for I am not seizing what is not
my own, but only finding my own that I love full well.

ION. Hands off! or thou shalt feel an arrow pierce thy
ribs.

XUT. Why dost thou shun me, now that thou findest in
me thy nearest and dearest ?

ION. I am not fond of schooling boors1 and crazy strangers.

XUT. Kill me, burn me, if thou wilt ; for, if thou dost,
thou wilt be thy father's murderer.

ION. Thou my father, indeed ! Oh ! is not news like
this enough to make me laugh ?

XUT. Not so; my tale, as it proceeds, will prove to thee
what I assert.

ION. Pray, what hast thou to tell me?

XUT. That I am thy own father, and thou my very child.

ION. Who says so?

XUT. Loxias, who gave thee nurture, though thou wert
my son.

ION. Thou art thy own witness.

XUT. Nay, I have learnt the answer of the god.

ION. Thou art mistaken in the dark riddle thou hast heard.

XUT. It seems then I do not hear aright.

ION. What said Phoebus ?

XUT. That the man who met me

ION. When and where ?
1 Nauck reads tyjjtvijjv ufjioifjovi; for the MSS. <f>pe)'oi<v a^tovoovq.

282 EURIPIDES. [L. 536-575

XUT. As I came forth from the god's temple

ION. Well ! what should happen to him ?
XUT. Should be my own true son.
1 ON. Thy own true son, or a gift from others ?
XUT. A gift, but mine for all that.
ION. Am I the first that thou didst meet ?
Xu r. I have met no other, my son.
lox. Whence came this piece of luck ?
XUT. To both of us alike it causes surprise.
ION. Ah ! but who was my mother ?
XUT. I cannot tell.
ION. Did not Phoebus tell thee that?
XUT. I was so pleased with this, I did not ask him that.
ION. I must have sprung from mother earth.
XUT. The ground brings forth no children.
ION. How can I be thine?
XUT. I know not ; I refer it to the god.
ION. Come, let us try another theme.
XUT. Better hold to this, my son.
ION. Didst thou e'er indulge in illicit amours?
XUT. Yes, in the folly of youth.
ION. Ere thou didst win Erechtheus' daughter?
XUT. Never since.

ION. Could it be, then, thou didst beget me?
XUT. The time coincides therewith.
ION. In that case, how came I hither ?
XUT. That puzzles me.
ION. After that long journey too ?
XUT. That, too, perplexes me.

ION. Didst thou in days gone by come to the Pythian
rock?

XUT. Yes, to join in the mystic rites of Bacchus.
ION. Didst thou lodge with one of the public hosts ?
XUT. With one who at Delphi —
ION. Initiated thee? or what is it thou sayest?

ION. 283

XUT. Among the frantic votaries of Bacchus.

ION. Wert thou sober, or in thy cups?

XUT. I had indulged in the pleasures of the wine-cup.

ION. That is just the history of my birth.

XUT. Fate hath discovered thee, my son.

ION. How came I to the temple ?

XUT. Maybe the maid exposed thee.

ION. I have escaped the shame of slavish birth.

XUT. Acknowledge then thy father, my son.

ION. It is not right that I should mistrust the god.

XUT. Thou art right there.

ION. What more can I desire —

XUT. Thine eyes now open to the sights they should.

ION. Than from a son of Zeus to spring ?

XUT. Which is indeed thy lot.

ION. May I embrace the author of my being ?

XUT. Aye, put thy trust in the god.

ION. Hail to thee, father mine.

XUT. Writh joy that title I accept.

ION. This day —

XUT. Hath made me blest.

ION. Ah, mother dear ! shall I ever see thee too ? Now
more than ever do I long to gaze upon thee, whoe'er thou
art. But thou perhaps art dead, and I shall never have the
chance.

CHO. We share the good luck of thy house ; but still I
could have wished my mistress too, and Erechtheus' line?
had been blest with children.

XUT. My son, albeit the god hath for thy discovery
brought his oracle to a true issue, and united thee to me,
while thou, too, hast found what most thou dost desire, till
now unconscious of it ; still, as touching this anxiety so
proper in thee, I feel an equal yearning that thou, my child,
mayst find thy mother, and I the wife that bare thee unto me.
Maybe we shall discover this, if we leave it to time. But now

284 EURIPIDES. [L. 576-644

leave the courts of the god, and this homeless life l of thine,
and come to Athens, in accordance with thy father's wishes,
for there his happy realm and bounteous wealth await thee ;
noi- shalt thou be taunted with base origin and poverty to
boot, because in one of these respects thou something
lackest, but thou shalt be renowned alike for birth and
wealth. Art silent? why dost fix thy eyes upon the ground?
Thou art lost in thought, and by this sudden change from
thy former cheerfulness, thou strikest thy father with dismay.
ION. Things assume a different form according as we see
them before us, or far off. I am glad at what has happened,
since I have found in thee a father ; but hear me on some
points which I am now deciding. Athens, I am told, — that
glorious city of a native race, — owns no aliens ; in which case
I shall force my entrance there under a twofold disadvantage,
as an alien's son and base-born as I am. Branded with
this reproach, while as yet I am unsupported, I shall get the
name * of a mere nobody, a son of nobodies ; and if I win my
way to the highest place in the state, and seek to be some
one, I shall be hated by those who have no influence, for
superiority is galling ; while 'mongst men of worth who could
show their wisdom, but are silent, and take no interest in
politics, I shall incur ridicule and be thought a fool for not
keeping quiet in such a fault-finding 3 city. Again, if I win
a name amongst the men of mark 4 who are engaged in
politics, still more will jealous votes bar my progress ; for
thus, father, is it ever wont to be ; they who have the city's
ear, and have already made their mark, are most bitter
against all rivals. Again, if I, a stranger, come to a home that
knows me not, and to that childless wife who before had

1 MSS. a\ijTtict)>, Pierson \arpiiai>.

2 Badham supplies the lacuna with ayrog TO, Scaliger reads the line
TO fiirftv uiv Ka£ ovSlvtuv K(K\i)(ro^ai.

3 Reading tyryov with Musgrave for Qofiov.

* Badham emends rwr o' av aofyZtv, Malthiae rwi' S' it> Xoyy.

ION. 285

thee as partner in her sorrow, but now will feel the bitterness
of having to bear her fortune all alone, — how, I ask, shall I
not fairly earn her hatred, when I take my stand beside
thee; while she, still childless, sees thy dear pledge with
bitter eyes ; and then thou have to choose between
deserting me and regarding her, or honouring me and
utterly confounding thy home ? How many a murder,
and death by deadly drugs have wives devised for husbands !
Besides, I pity that wife of thine, father, with her child-
less old age beginning; she little deserves to pine1 in barren-
ness, a daughter of a noble race. That princely state
we fondly praise is pleasant to the eye ; but yet in its man-
sions sorrow lurks ; for who is happy, or by fortune blest,
that has to live his life in fear of violence * with many a
sidelong glance ? Rather would I live among the common
folk, and taste their bliss, than be a tyrant who delights in
making evil men his friends, and hates the good, in terror of
his life. Perchance thou wilt tell me, " Gold outweighs all
these evils, and wealth is sweet." I have no wish to be
abused for holding tightly to my pelf, nor yet to have the
trouble of it. Be mine a moderate fortune free from annoy-
ance ! Now hear the blessings, father, that here were
mine ; first, leisure, man's chiefest joy, with but moderate
trouble ; no villain ever drove me from my path, and that
is a grievance hard to bear, to make room and give way to
sorry knaves. My duty was to pray unto the gods, or with
mortal men converse, a minister to their joys, not to their
sorrows. And I was ever dismissing one batch of guests,
uhile another took their place, so that I was always welcome
from the charm of novelty. That honesty which men must
pray for, even against their will, custom and nature did
conspire to plant in me in the sight of Phoebus. Now when

1 This line is bracketed by Nauck as spurious. Also lines 614 — 617
are regarded with suspicion by some editors.

* Reading /3/ar, the correction of Stephens for fliov.

286 EURIPIDES. [L. 645-724

I think on this, I deem that I am better here than there,
father. So let me live on here,1 for 'tis an equal charm to
joy in high estate, or in a humble fortune find a pleasure.

CHO. Well said ! if only those I love find their happiness
in thy statement of the case.

XUT. Cease such idle talk, and learn to be happy ; for
on that spot where I discovered thee, my son, will I begin
the rites, since I have chanced on the general banquet, open
to all comers, and I will offer thy birth sacrifice which afore-
time I left undone. And now will I bring thee to the
banquet as my guest and rejoice thy heart, and take thee
to the Athenian land as a visitor forsooih, not as my
own son. For I will not grieve my wife in her childless
sorrow by my good fortune. But in time will I seize
a happy moment and prevail on her to let thee wield my
sceptre o'er the realm. Thy name shall be Ion, in ac-
cordance with what happened, for that thou wert the first
to cross my path as I came forth from Apollo's sanctuary.
Go, gather every friend thou hast, and with them make
merry o'er the flesh of sacrifice, on the eve of thy departure
from the town of Delphi. On you, ye handmaids, silence
I enjoin, for, if ye say one word to my wife, death awaits you.

{Exit XUTHUS.

' ION. Well, I will go; one thing my fortune lacks, for if I
find not her that gave me "birth, life is no life to me, my
father ; and, if I may make the prayer, Oh may that mother
be a daughter of Athens ! that from her I may inherit freedom
of speech. For if a stranger settle in a city free from aliens,
e'en though in name 2 he be a citizen, yet doth he find him-
self tongue-tied and debarred from open utterance.

{Exit ION.

CHO. Weeping and lamentation 3 and the beginning of

. l Reading with Badham ta ft t/i' avrov for MSS.
a Conington vopoiffiv.
3 Reading the emendation of Hermann, t/XaXayaf, which Nauck

ION. 287

mourning I foresee, when my mistress shall see her lord blest
with a son, while she is childless and forlorn. What was this
oracle thou didst vouchsafe, prophetic son of Latona?
Whence came this boy, thy foster-child who lingers in thy
temple ? who was his mother? I like not thy oracle ; I fear
there is some treachery. In terror I await the issue of this
chance ; for strange are these tidings x and strange it is that
the god declares them to me. There is guile connected with
this waif's fortune.3 All must allow that. Shall we, good
friends, throw off disguise and tell our mistress this story
about her husband in whom her all was centred and whose
hopes, poor lady, she once shared? But now in misery
is she plunged, while he enjoys the smiles of fortune ;
to hoary eld she drifteth fast, while he, her lord, pays
no regard to his loved ones, — the wretch, who came
an alien to her house to share great wealth and failed
to guard her fortunes ! Perdition catch this traitor to my
lady ! never may he succeed in offering to the gods upon
their blazing altar a hallowed cake with flames that augur
well! He shall know to his cost my regard for my mistress.'
Now are sire and new-found son bent on the approaching
feast. Ho ! ye peaks of Parnassus that rear your rocky
heads to heaven, where Bacchus with uplifted torch of
blazing pine bounds nimbly amid his bacchanals, that
range by night ! Never to my city come this boy ! let him
die and leave his young life as it dawns ! For should our
city fall on evil days, this bringing-in of strangers would
supply it with a reason. Enough, enough for us Erechtheus'
line that erst held sway !

adopts, with r after orewry/uirwi' ; the words aXXaf ye are generally
agreed to be corrupt.

1 Reading with Nauck rofa Pfov 0///i<z for MSS. rtpSi TTOT" iv<pima.

3 Reading i\fi do\ov rv\av tf 6 Traif, for which Nauck has t\ti c6f.ta>i>

To supply the lacuna is perhaps impossible, but the sense is clear.

288 EURIPIDES. [L. 725-784

CRE. Aged retainer of my father Erechtheus while yet he
lived and saw the light of day, mount to the god's prophetic
shrine that thou mayst share my gladness, if haply Loxias,
great king, vouchsafe an answer touching my hopes of off-
spring ; for sweet it is to share with friends prosperity, and
sweet likewise to see a friendly face if any ill betide, — which
God forbid ! As thou of yore didst tend my sire, so now,
thy mistress though I am, I take his place in tending thee.

OLD SER. Daughter, thy manners bear good witness still
to thy noble lineage ; thou hast never brought shame upon
those ancestors of thine,1 the children of the soil. A hand,
I prithee, to the shrine ! a hand to lean upon ! Tis a steep
path thither, truly ; but lend thy aid to guide my steps and
make me young again.

CRE. Come follow then, and look where thou art treading.

OLD SER. Behold ! though my steps loiter, my thoughts
take wings.

CRE. Lean on thy staff as thou climbest this winding
path.

OLD SER. Even this staff is a blind guide when I myself
can scarcely see.

CRE. True, but do not yield through fatigue.

OLD SER. Never willingly, but I am not master of that
which is mine no more.2

CRE. Maidens mine, my trusty servants at the loom and
web, declare to me how my lord hath fared as touching the
question of offspring which brought us hither : for if ye give
me good news, ye will cause joy to a mistress who will not
prove faithless to her word.

CHO. O fortune !

OLD SER. This prelude to your speech is unlucky.

CHO. Woe is me !

OLD SER. Can it be that the oracles delivered to my
master wound me at all ?

.*• Bothe reads TOV oov TraXatot'g IK y'ei'ovg. * i.e. strength.

ION. 289

CHO. Enough ! why have aught to do with that which
brings down death ?

CRE. What means this piteous strain? wherefore this
alarm ?

CHO. Are we to speak or keep silence? What shall
we do ?

CRE. Speak ; for thou hast somewhat to tell that touches
me.

CHO. Then speak I will, though twice to die were mine.
O mistress mine ! never shalt thou hold a babe within thy
arms or clasp him to thy breast.

CRE. Ah me ! would I were dead !

OLD SER. My daughter !

CRE. O woe is me for my calamity ! Mine is a heritage
of suffering and woe that poisons life, good friends.

OLD SER. Ah, my child, 'tis death to us !

CRE. Ah me ! ah me ! grief drives its weapon through this
heart of mine.

OLD SER. Stay thy lamentations.

CRE. Nay, but sorrow lodges here.

OLD SER. Till we learn —

CRE. Ah, what further news is there for me ?

OLD SER. Whether our master is in the same plight and
shares thy misfortune, or thou art alone in thy misery.

CHO. On him, old sir, Loxias hath bestowed a son, and
he is enjoying his good fortune apart from her.

CRE. Herein hast thou declared a further evil crowning
all, a grief for me to mourn.

OLD SER. The child of whom thou speakest — is he some
woman's destined babe, or did the god declare the fate of
one already born ?

CHO. A youth already born and grown to man's estate
doth Phoebus give to him ; for I was there myself.

CRE. What sayest thou ? nor tongue nor lip should speak
the word thou tellest me.

u

2Cp EURIPIDES. [L. 785-844

OLD SER. And me. But declare more clearly how this
oracle is finding its fulfilment, and say who is the child.

CHO. Whomso thy husband first should meet as he
issued from the shrine, him the god gave him for his son.

CRE. Ah me ! my fate, it seems, has doomed me to a
childless life, and all forlorn am I to dwell in my halls, with-
out an heir.

OLD SER. To whom did the oracle refer ? whom did our
poor lady's husband meet? how and where did he see him?

CFO. Dear mistress mine, dost know that youth that was
sweeping yonder shrine ? He is that son.

CRE. Oh ! for wings to cleave the liquid air beyond the
land of Hellas, away to the western stars, so keen the
anguish of my soul, my friends !

OLD SER. Dost know the name his father gave to him,
or is that left as yet unsettled l and unsaid ?

CHO. He called him Ion, because he was the first to
cross his path.

OLD SER. Who is his mother?

CHO. That I cannot say. But, — to tell thee all I know,
old sir, — her lord is gone, with furtive step, into the hallowed
tent, there to offer on this child's beh ilf such gifts and
victims as are offered for a birth, and with his new-found
son to celebrate the feast.

OLD SER. Mistress mine, we are betrayed by thy
husband, fellow-sufferers thou and I ; 'tis a deep-laid plot
to outrage us and drive us from Erechtheus' halls. And
this I say not from any hatred of thy lord but because I
bear thee more love than him ; for he, after coming as a
stranger to thy city and thy home, and wedding thee, and
of thy heritage taking full possession, has been detected
in a secret marriage with another woman, by whom he hath
children. His secret will I now disclose ; when he found
thee barren, he was not content to share with thee thy hard
1 Nauck reacts ctKi'ipvurov for MSS. a

ION. 291

lot, but took to himself a slave to be his stealthy paramour
and thus begat a son, whom he sent abroad, giving him to
some Delphian maid to nurse ; and, to escape detection,
the child was dedicated to the god and reared in his
temple. But when he heard his boy was grown to man-
hood, he persuaded thee to come hither to inquire about
thy childless state. And after this, 'twas not the god that
lied, but thy husband, who long had been rearing the child,
and he it was that wove this tissue of falsehood, intending,
if he were detected, to refer it to the god, whereas if he
escaped exposure,1 to repel all odium,2 he meant to vest the
sovereignty in this son of his. Likewise he devised anew
his name, coined to suit the circumstances, Ion, because, as
he asserts, he met him on his way.

CHO. Ah! how I ever hate the wicked who plot un-
righteousness and then cunningly trick it out. Far rather
would I have a virtuous friend of no great intellect than a
knave of subtler wit.

OLD SER. Of all thy wretched fate this will be the crown-
ing sorrow, the bringing to thy house to be its lord some
slave-girl's child, whose mother is unknown, himself of no
account. For this evil had been to itself confined, had he
persuaded thee, pleading thy childlessness, to let him
establish in the house some high-born mother's son ; or if
this had displeased thee, he ought to have sought a daughter
of y£olus in marriage. Wherefore must thou now put thy
woman's wit to work ; either take the dagger, or by guile or

1 Reading with Nauck \a9uv for the MSS. tX^wv. This was Musgrave's
proposal. Paley reading iXOtav suggests as a possible interpretation
"having returned to Athens, and wishing to take advantage of the
time ; " but neither this nor any of the other numerous interpretations
are satisfactory.

2 Seidler's reading TOV tyQovov for rbv xpovov, though not very pro-
bable in itself, gives an intelligible meaning, and its adoption may per-
haps be condoned in a passage which Badham gives up in despair (cf.
Paley's note).

292 EURIPIDES [L. 845-931

poison slay thy husband and his son, ere they deal out death
to thee ; since if thou spare l him, thou wilt lose thy own
life ; for when t\vo foes meet beneath one roof, one or the
other must rue it. Myself too am ready to share this labour
with thee, and to help destroy the child when I have made
my way into 2 the chamber where he is furnishing the feast,
and so repaying my masters for my maintenance I am
willing either to die or still behold the light of life. Tis
but a single thing that brands the slave with shame — his
name ; in all else no upright slave is a whit worse than free-
born men.

CHO. I too, beloved mistress, am ready to share thy
fate, be it death or victory.

CRE. Ah ! my suffering soul ! how am I to keep silence ?
Am I to disclose the secrets of my love and lose all claim to
modesty ? What is there to keep me back any longer ?
With whom have I to pit myself in virtue's lists? Hath
not my husband proved untrue ? Home and children,
both are torn from me ; all hope is dead ; I have not
realized my wish to set the matter straight, by hushing
up my former union and saying naught about my son of
sorrow. No ! by the starry seat of Zeus, by her whose
home is on my rocks, and by the hallowed strand of Triton's
mere with brimming flood, I will no more conceal my love ;
for if I can lift that burden from my breast I shall rest
easier. With tears my eyes are streaming and my heart is
wrung with anguish for the treacherous counsels both of
men and gods, — traitors they ! as I will show, ungrateful
traitors to their loves !

0 ! thou who dost awake that tuneful lyre with seven
strings till to its sweet note of music the lifeless pegs of
wild ox-horn resound again, thou child of Latona, to yon

1 Reading <ru 0€i'<m, Badham's correction for y' vQt'jfftic. Dindorf
condemns line 847, Nauck both this and the two following lines.

- Wakefield

ION. 293

bright orb of thine will I publish thy reproach. Yes, I saw thee
come, the glint of gold upon thy locks, as I was gathering
in my folded robe the saffron blooms that blazed like
flowers of gold ; and by my lily wrist didst thou catch me and
ledst me to the cavern's bed, what time I cried aloud upon my
mother's nam.% — thou a god to mate with me in shameless
wise to pleasure lady Cypris ! Then to my sorrow I bore
thee a son, whom, though anguish thrilled my mother's l
breast, I cast upon that bed of thine, where thou didst join
in woful wedlock this unhappy maid. Ah ! woe is me !
that poor babe I bare thee is now no more ; winged fowls
have torn and devoured him, but thou art gaily carolling
unto thy lyre some song of joy. Hark ! thou son of Latona,
to thee I call, for that thou dispenses! warnings ; there at
thy golden throne on earth's centre planted will I proclaim
a word into thy ear. O ! thou wicked bridegroom who art
bringing to my husband's house an heir, though from
him thou hast received no boon ; while that child of thine
and mine hath died unrecognized, a prey to carrion birds,
his mother's swaddling-clothes all lost. Delos hates thee
now, thy bay-tree loves thee not, whose branches sprout
beside the tufted palm, where in holy throes Latona, big
with child by Zeus, gave birth to thee.

CHO. Ah me ! what store of sorrows is here disclosed,
enough to draw a tear from every eye !

OLD SER. Daughter, with pity2 am I filled as a gaze upon
thy face ; my reason leaves me ; for just as I am striving to
lighten my spirit of its sea of troubles, comes another wave
astern and catches me by reason of thy words ; for no sooner
hadst thou uttered this tale of present troubles than thou
didst turn aside into a fresh 3 track of other woes. What is
it thou sayest? What charge against Apollo dost thou

1 Wecklein faiiey 7rarp6r=" in fearful dread of my father."

2 Reading OIKTOV with Nauck.

3 Adopting Musgrave's conjecture

294 EURIPIDES. [L. 932-973

bring? Whit child is this thou dost assert that them didst
bear ? Where was it in the city that thou didst expose him,
for beasts to rejoice o'er his burial ? Tell me once again.

CRE. Old friend, although to meet thine eye, I am ashamed,
yet will I tell thee.

OLD SER. Full well I know how to lend my friends a
generous sympathy.

CRE. Then hearken ; dost know a cave toward the north
of Cecrops' rock, that we call Macrae ? l

OLD SER. I know it ; there is the shrine of Pan, and his
altar hard by.

CRE. That was the scene of my dire conflict.

OLD SER. What conflict ? see how my tears start forth to
meet thy words.

CRE. Phoebus forced me to a woful marriage.

OLD SER. Was it then this, my daughter, that I noticed
myself?

CRE. I know not ; but I will tell thee if thou speak the
truth.

OLD SER. At the time thou wert mourning in secret some
hidden complaint ?

CRE. Yes, 'twas then this trouble happened, which now
I am declaring to thee.

OLD SER. How then didst conceal thy union with Apollo ?

CRE. I bore a child ; hear me patiently, old friend.

OLD SER. Where ? and who helped thy travail ? or didst
thou labour all alone ?

CRE. All alone, in the cave where I became a wife.

OLD SER. Where is the child ? that thou mayst cease thy
childless state.

CRE. Dead, old friend, to beasts exposed.

OLD SER. Dead? did Apollo, evil god, no help afford ?

CRE. None ; my boy is in the halls of Hades.

; Badham, whom Nauck follows, condemns this line as interrupting

ION. 295

OLD SER. Who then exposed him ? surely not thyself.,

CRE. Myself, when 'neath the gloom of night I had
wrapped him in my robe.

OLD SER. Did no one share thy secret of the babe's ex-
posure ?

CRE. Ill-fortune and secrecy alone.

OLD SER. How couldst thou in the cavern leave thy
babe?

CRE. Ah! how? but still I did, with many a word of
pity uttered o'er him.

OLD SER. Oh for thy hard heart ! Oh for the god's, more
hard than thine !

CRE. Hadst thou but seen the babe stretch forth his
hands to me !

OLD SER. To find thy mother's breast, to nestle in thy
arms ?

CRE. By being kept therefrom he suffered grievous wrong
from me.

OLD SER. How earnest thou to think of casting forth thy
babe?

CRE. Methought the god would save his own begotten
child.

OLD SER. Ah me ! what storms assail thy family's pros-
perity !

CRE. Why weepest thou, old man, with head close-veiled?

OLD SER. To see the sorrows of thy sire and thee.

CRE. Such is our mortal life; naught abideth in one
stay.

OLD SER. Daughter, let us cease to dwell on themes of
woe.

CRE. What must I do? Misfortune leaves us helpless.

OLD SER. Avenge thee on the god who first did injure
thee.

CRE. How can I, weak mortal as I am, outrun those
mightier powers ?

296 EURIPIDES. [L. 974-1017

OLD SER. Set fire to Apollo's awful sanctuary.

CRE. I am afraid ; my present sorrows are enough for
me.

OLD SER. Then what thou canst, that dare — thy husband's
death.

CRE. Nay, I do respect his former love in the days when
he was good and true.

OLD SER. At least, then, slay the boy who hath appeared
to supplant thee.

CRE. How can I ? would it were possible ! how I wish it
were !

OLD SER. Arm thy followers with daggers.

CRE. I will about it ; but where is the deed to be done?

OLD SER. In the sacred tent, where he is feasting his
friends.

CRE. The murder will be too public, and slaves are poor
support.

OLD SER. Ah ! thou art turning coward. Devise some
scheme thyself.

CRE. Well, I too have subtle plans that cannot fail.

OLD SER. If both conditions they fulfil, I will assist thee.

CRE. Hearken then; knowest thou the battle of the earth-
born men ?

OLD SER. Surely; the fight at Phlegra waged by giants
against the gods.

CRE. There Earth brought Gorgon forth, dreadful prodigy.

OLD SER. To aid her sons maybe, and cause the gods
hard toil?

CRE. Yea, and Pallas, daughter of Zeus, slew the monster.

OLD SER. What savage form had it assumed ?

CRE. A breast-plate of vipers fenced its body.

OLD SER. Is this the tale I heard in days of yore ?

CRE. That Athena wears its skin upon her corslet.

OLD SER. Is it this that Pallas wears, called by men her
aegis ?

ION. 297

CRE. This was the name it received, that day she came
to do battle for the gods.

OLD SER. How, daughter, can this harm thy enemies ?

CRE. Hast heard of Erichthonius, or no ? of course thou
hast.

OLD SER. Him whom Earth produced, the founder of
thy race ?

CRE. To him whilst yet a babe did Pallas give —

OLD SER. Ha ! what? thou hast something yet to add.

CRE. Two drops of Gorgon's blood.

OLD SER. What power could they exert l on the nature of
a human creature ?

CRE. The one with death is fraught, the other cures
disease.

OLD SER. What held them when she tied them to the
child's body ?

CRE. With links of gold she fastened them ; this to my
sire did Erichthonius give.

OLD SER. And at his death it came to thee ?

CRE. Yea, and here at my wrist I wear it.

OLD SER. How works the spell of this double gift of
Pallas ?

CRE. Each drop of gore which trickled from the hollow
vein —

OLD SER. What purpose does it serve ? what virtue does
it carry ?

CRE. Wards off disease, and nourishes man's life.

OLD SER. What doth that second drop effect, of which
thou madest mention ?

CRE. It kills, for it is venom from the Gorgon's
snakes.

OLD SER. Dost thou carry this charm mixed in one phial,
or separate ?

CRE. Separate ; for good is no companion for evil.
1 Nauck !

2Q3 EURIPIDES. [L. 1018-1095

OLD SER. Daughter dear, thou art fully armed with all
thou needest.

CRE. By this must the boy die, and thou must do the
deadly deed.

OLD SER. How and where ? thine it is to speak, and
mine to dare and do.

CRE. In Athens, when to my house he comes.

OLD SER. That is not wisely said ; I may object to thy
plan as thou to mine.

CRE. How so? Hast thou the same mistrust that I
experience ?

OLD SER. Thou wilt get the credit of his death, although
thou slay him not

CRE. True ; men say stepdames are jealous of their
husband's children.

OLD SER. Kill him here then, that so thou mayst deny the
murder.

CRE. Well, thus I do anticipate the pleasure.

OLD SER. Yea, and thou wilt from thy husband keep the
very secret he would keep from thee.

CRE. Dost know then what to do ? Take from my arm
this golden bracelet, Athena's gift, some ancient craftsman's
work, and seek the spot where my lord is offering secret
sacrifice; then when their feasting is o'er and they are
about to pour drink-offering to the gods, take this phial in
thy robe and pour it into the young man's goblet ; [not for
all, but for him alone, providing a separate draught,] l who
thinks to lord it o'er my house. And if once it pass his
lips, never shall he come to glorious Athens, but here abide,
of life bereft.

OLD SER. Go thou within the house of our public hosts ;

I the while will set about my appointed task. On! aged

foot, grow young again in action, for all that time saith no

to thee. Go, aid thy mistress against her enemy, help slay

1 Paley condemns this line.

ION. 299

and drag him from her house. Tis well to honoui piety in
the hour of fortune, but when thou wouldst harm thy foe, no
law doth block thy path.

CHO. Daughter l of Demeter, goddess of highways, queen
as thou art of haunting powers of darkness, oh ! guide as well
the hand that fills by day a cup of death, against those to
whom my revered mistress is sending a philtre of the gore
that dripped from hellish Gorgon's severed head, yea,
'gainst him who would obtrude upon the halls of the Erech-
thidae. Never may alien, from alien stock, lord it o'er my
city, no ! none save noble Erechtheus' sons ! For if this
deadly deed and my lady's aims pass unfulfilled, and the
right moment for her daring go by, and with it the hope
which now sustains her, either will she seize the whetted
knife or fasten the noose about her neck, and by ending
one sorrow by another will go down to other phases of
existence. For never will that daughter of a noble line,
while life is hers, endure within the sunshine of her eyes
the sight of alien rulers in her halls. I blush for that god
of song, if this stranger is to witness the torch-dance,2 that
heralds in the twentieth dawn, around Callichorus' fair
springs, a sleepless votary in midnight revels, what time the
star-lit firmament of Zeus, the moon, and Nereus' fifty
daughters, that trip it lightly o'er the sea and the eternal
rivers' tides, join the dance in honour of the maiden 3 with
the crown of gold and her majestic mother ; where this
vagabond, by Phcebus favoured, thinks to reign, entering
into other men's hard toil.4 Look to it, all ye bards, who, in
malicious strains, expose our amours and unholy bonds of
lawless love; see how far our virtue surpasses man's dis-

1 i.e. Hecate.

2 Bacchus was escorted with a solemn torch procession from Athens
to Eleusis on the 2Oth day of the month Boedromion.

8 Persephone or Cora, and Demeter.

* Nauck reads tfoxoi' for Tn'vor.

300 EURIPIDES. [L. 1096-1170

loyalty. Change the burden of your song and keep your
spiteful verse to brand man's faithlessness. For this scion
of the stock of Zeus shows himself a heedless wight, denying
to the mistress of his halls the lot of mutual offspring, and,
paying all his court to some strange love, hath gotten him a
bastard son.

SER. Ladies of another land, where may I find your
mistress, daughter of Erechtheus? For I have searched
each nook and corner of this town, and cannot find her.

CHO. What news, my fellow-thrall? why that hurried
gait ? what tidings bringest thou ?

SER. I am pursued ; the rulers of this land are seeking
her to stone her to death.

CHO. Alas, what is thy tale ? say not we are detected in
our secret plot for murdering the boy ?

SER. Thou hast guessed aright ; nor wilt thou be the last
to share the trouble.

CHO. How was the hidden scheme laid bare ?

SER. The god found means to master wrong with right,
unwilling to see his shrine polluted.

CHO. How so? I do conjure thee, tell us all. For if to
die or yet to live be ours, 'twere sweeter so, when we know
all.

SER. Soon as Xuthus, husband of Creusa, had left the god's
prophetic shrine, taking with him his -new-found son, to hold
the feast and sacrifice that he designed to offer to the gods,
himself departed to the place where leaps the Bacchic flame,
with blood of sacrifice to dew the double peaks of Dionysus
for the son now offered to his gaze, and thus he spake,
" My son, abide thou here, and raise a spacious tent by
craftsmen's toiling skill ; and if I remain long time away after
I have sacrificed to the gods of thy birth, let the feast be spread
for all friends present." Therewith he took the heifers
and went his way. Meantime his stripling son in solemn
form set up with upright stays the tent, inclosed but not

ION. 301

with walls, taking good heed to guard it 'gainst the blazing
midday sun, nor less against his westering beams, the limit
of his course ; an oblong space of five score feet he meted
out [so that it contained ten thousand feet within that
measure's square, as science phrases it],1 intending to
invite all Delphi to the feast. Then from the temple-
treasury tapestry he took and therewith made a shelter,
wondrous sight to see. First o'er the roof-tree he threw
a canopy of robes, an offering Heracles, the son of Zeus,
had brought unto the god from his Amazonian spoils.
On them was broidered many a pictured scene, to wit,
Heaven marshalling his host of stars upon the vaulted
sky ; there was the sun-god urging on his steeds toward his
fiery goal, the bright star of evening at his heels. Night too
in sable robes went hurrying by, drawn by a single pair, and
the stars did bear her company. Across the zenith a Pleiad
sailed, and Orion too with falchion dight was there; above
was the bear making his tail to turn upon the golden pole.
Up shot the moon's full face, that parts the months in twain ;
there too the Hyades showed their unerring light to mariners ;
and Dawn, that brings the morning back, was chasing the
stars before her. Next on the sides he hung yet other tapes-
try; barbarian ships bearing down on the fleet of Hellas ; and
monsters half-man, half-beast ; the capture of the Thracian
steeds ; the hunting of savage stags and lions fierce ; while at
the entry Cecrops close to his daughters was, wreathing his
coils, an offering of some Athenian votary; and in the midst
of the banquet-hall he set goblets of gold, while a herald
hasted and invited to the feast all citizens who would come.
Then, when the tent was full, they decked themselves with
garlands and took their fill of the rich viands. Anon after
they had put from them the pleasure of eating2 came an old

1 Lines 1138-9 are, as Paley shows at some length, almost un-
doubtedly the insertion of a clumsy copyist.

* Reiske supplies the lacuna with datrog, a simple emendation. Paley
suggests ivtv<;.

302 EURIPIDES; [L. 1171-1244

man and stood in the midst, where his officious zeal pro-
voked loud laughter among the guests ; for he would draw
from the drinking-pitchers water to wash the hands withal and
was wasting as incense the liquid myrrh, and in his charge
he took the golden beakers, setting himself unasked to this
office. Now when they were come to the time for the flute-
players and the general libation, cried out that aged servitor,
"Hence with these tiny cups! bring larger goblets, that
our guests may find a quicker route to joyousness." Thereon
came servants bending 'neath the weight of goblets chased
with silver and golden chalices ; and that old man, as if to
do his youthful lord a special service, chose out and offered
t'o him a brimming bumper, when he had cast into the wine
that potent philtre which, men say, his mistress gave to him
to end the young man's days on earth ; and no man knew
of this ; but just as he so lately found held in his hand the
drink-offering, the others following suit, some servant there
uttered a word of evil import ; whereat the stripling, as one
who had been reared within the shrine amid reputed seers,
deemed this an omen and bade them fill a fresh goblet, but
that first drink-offering to the god he poured upon the
ground and bade all others do the like. And silence stole
upon them ; while we with water and Phoenician l wine were
filling high the sacred bowls. While thus we were busied,
comes a flight of doves and settles in the tent, for these
dwell fearlessly in the courts of Loxias. Soon as the guests
had poured away the luscious juice, those thirsty birds did
dip their beaks therein, drawing it up into their feathered
throats. Now all the rest received no hurt from the god's
libation, but one that settled on the spot where the son new-
found had poured his wine, no sooner had tasted thereof,

1 There is some doubt as to the word By/3Xn>oy. Paley on Blom-
field's authority, speaks of " Thracian " wine ; others say it is called after
Byblos in Syria, which was famous for its wine. L. and S. write the
word Bt/SXivoi; from Biblis a hill in Thrace ; so too Nauck.

ION. 303

than convulsions seized her feathered form and she went
mad, and screaming aloud uttered strange unwonted cries ;
and all the feasters gathered there marvelled to see the
bird's cruel agony, for she lay writhing in the toils of death,
and her red claws relaxed their hold.

Forthwith the son, vouchsafed by oracles, bared his arm by
casting off his cloak and stretched it out across the board
crying "Who was it strove to slay me ? Proclaim it, old sirrah,
for thine was the officious zeal and thine the hand from which
I took the cup." With that he caught the grey-beard by the
arm and set to searching him that he might take the old man
red-handed in the act. So was he detected, and under strong
constraint declared Creusa's daring deed and all the trick of
the poisoned draught. Forth rushed the young man, whom
the oracle of Loxias to his sire assigned, taking with him
the banqueters, and standing mid the Delphic nobles made
harangue, "O ! hallowed soil, a stranger woman, daughter of
Erechtheus, seeks to poison me." And the lords of Delphi
decreed by general vote that my mistress should be hurled
from the rock to die, because she strove to slay the priest
and compass his death in the temple. So now is the whole
city seeking her, who hath to her sorrow sped a hapless
journey ; for, coming to crave the boon of offspring from
Phoebus, she hath lost her life and children too.

CHO. Ah me ! I see no way at all to turn death's hand
aside ; all, all, ere this, is brought to light owing to that fatal
draught of the wine-god's juice mixed for death with drops
of viper's gore, quick to slay ; detected is our offering to the
dead; for me my life must end in woe, while death by
stoning waits my mistress. How can I escape? Shall I
take wings and fly away, or creep beneath the darksome
caverns of the earth, striving to shun the doom of death by
stoning? or shall I mount the car drawn by swiftest steeds,
or embark upon a ship ? No man may hide his guilt, save
when some god of his own will steals him away. Ah ! my

304 EURIPIDES. [L. 1245-1298

poor mistress! what suffering now awaits thy soul? Must
then our wish to work another harm end in our own discom-
fiture, as justice doth decree ?

CRE. My trusty maids, the men of death are on my track ;
the vote of Delphi goes against me ; they give me up to die.

CHO. Unhappy one ! we know thy sad mischance, how
thou art placed.

CRE. Oh ! whither can I fly ? for scarce had I the start
of my pursuers from the house in my race for life ; 'tis by
stealth alone that I have thus far escaped my foes.

CHO. Where shouldst thou fly except to the altar ?

CRE. What good is that to me ?

CHO. To slay a suppliant is forbidden.

CRE. Aye, but the law has given me over to death.

CHO. Only if thou fall into their hands.

CRE. Look ! here they come, cruel champions of ven-
geance, eagerly brandishing their swords.

CHO. Sit thee down upon the altar of burnt-offering ! for
if thou art slain there, thou wilt fix upon thy murderers the
stain of bloodguiltiness ; but we must bear our fortune.

ION. O father Cephissus, with the bull-shaped head, what
a viper is this thy child, or dragon with fiery eyes that dart
a murderous gleam, in whose heart is throned incarnate
daring, noxious as those Gorgon drops of venom wherewith
she sought to compass my death. Seize her, that the peaks of
Parnassus may card the flowing tresses of her hair, for thence
shall she be hurled headlong amid the rocks. My lucky star
hath kept me from going to Athens, there to fall beneath
the power of a step-mother. For I have gauged thy
feelings towards me — the full extent of thy bitter hostility —
whilst yet amongst my friends;1 for hadst thou once shut me

1 Nauck regards tv av^ia\otq as spurious, and proposes i
Paley translates "for among those who have befriended me I reckon
your feelings, so far as you were a bane to me," etc., apparently
meaning " the outward expression of your hostility here has really been

ION. 305

up within thy house, my road to Hades' halls had led
direct from thence. This altar shall not save thee, nor yet
Apollo's courts, for that pity thou implorest cries out more
loudly for me and my mother, who, though absent in the
flesh, is never in name far from me. Behold this cursed
woman, see the web of trickery she hath woven ! yet comes
she cowering to Apollo's altar, thinking to escape the punish-
ment of her misdeeds.

CRE. I warn thee not to slay me, both in my own name
ind in his at whose altar I am stationed.

ION. What hast thou to do with Phcebus?

CRE. This body I devote unto that god to keep.

ION. And yet thou wert for poisoning his' minister?

CRE. But thou wert not Apollo's any longer, but thy
father's.

ION. Nay, I was his son, that is, in absence of a real
father.

CRE. Thou wert so then ; now 'tis I, not thou, who am
Apollo's.

ION. Well, thou art not guiltless now, whereas I was then.

CRE. I sought to slay thee as an enemy to my house.

ION. And yet I never invaded thy country, sword in
hand.

CRE. Thou didst ; and thou it was that wert casting a fire-
brand into the halls of Erechtheus.

ION. What sort of brand or flaming fire was it ?

CRE. Thou didst design to seize my home against my will,
and make it thine.

ION. What ! when my father offered me a kingdom of
his getting.

CRE. How had the sons of ^Eolus any share in the realm
of Pallas?

ION. Arms, not words, he brought to champion it.

my salvation by showing me what to expect when I was wholly in your
power."

X

306 EURIPIDES. [L. 1299-1345

CRE. No mere ally could enter into an inheritance in my
land.

ION. And was it then from fear of consequences that thou
didst try to slay me ?

CRE. Yes, lest I should myself perish if thou wert spared.

ION. Doth thy childlessness make thee envious that my
father found me?

CRE. And thou, wilt thou rob the childless of her home ?

ION. Had I then no share at all in my father's heritage?

CRE. All that his sword and shield had won was thine,
and thine alone.

ION. Quit the altar and sanctuary built for gods.

CRE. Go bid thy own mother, wherever she is, do that.

ION. Shalt thou escape all punishment, after trying to
kill me ?

CRE. Not if thou choose to butcher me within this shrine.

ION. What joy can it give thee to be slain amid the
sacred wreaths ?

CRE. There is one whom I shall grieve of those who
have grieved me.

ION. Oh ! 'tis passing strange how badly the deity hath
enacted laws for mortal men, contrary to all sound judgment ;
for instance, they should ne'er have suffered impious men
to sit at their altars, but should have driven them away ; for
it was nowise right that hands unclean should touch the
altars of the gods, though the righteous deserved to find a
refuge there from their oppressors, instead of good and bad
alike having recourse to the same divine protection with
equal success.

PYTH. PR. Refrain thyself, my son ; for I, the priestess
of Phoebus, chosen from all the maids of Delphi in accor-
dance with the tripod's ancient rite, have left that prophetic
seat, and am passing o'er this threshold.

ION. Hail to thee, dear mother mine, — mother, though
thou didst not give me birth.

ION. 307

PYTH. PR. Yes, so have I ever been called, and the
title causes me no regret.

ION. Hast heard how this woman plotted my death ?

PYTH. PR. I have ; thou, too, art wrong because of thy
harshness.

ION. Am I not to pay back murderers in their coin ?

PYTH. PR. Wives ever hate the children of a former
marriage.

ION. As I hate step-dames for their evil treatment of me.

PYTH PR. Do not so ; but leaving, as thou art, the shrine,
and setting forth for thy country —

ION. What then wouldst thou advise me do ?

PYTH. PR. With clean hands seek Athens, attended by
good omens.

ION. Surely any man hath clean hands who slays his
enemies.

PYTH. PR. Do not thou do this; but take the counsel
that I have for thee.

ION. Say on ; whate'er thou say'st will be prompted by
thy good will.

PYTH. PR. Dost see this basket that I carry in my arms?

ION. An ancient ark with chaplets crowned.

PYTH. PR. Herein I found thee long ago, a newborn
babe.

ION. What sayest thou ? there is novelty in the story thou
art introducing.

PYTH. PR. Yea, for I was keeping these relics a secret,
but now I show them.

ION. How earnest thou to hide them on that day, now
long ago, when thou didst find me ?

PYTH. PR. The god wished to have thee as his servant
in his courts.

ION. Does he no longer wish it ? How am I to know this ?

PYTH. PR. By declaring to thee thy sire, he dismisses
thee from this land,

308 EURIPIDES. [L. 1346-1405

ION. Is it by his command thou keepest these relics, or
why?

PYTH. PR. Loxias put in my heart that day —

ION. What purpose ? Oh ! speak, finish thy story.

PYTH. PR. To preserve what I had found until the pre-
sent time.

ION. What weal or woe doth thfc import to me ?

PYTH. PR. Herein were laid the swaddling-clothes in
which thou wert enwrapped.

ION. These relics thou art producing may help me to find
my mother.

PYTH. PR. Yes, for now the deity so wills it, though not
before.

ION. Hail ! thou day of visions \lest to me !

PYTH. PR. Take then the relics and seek thy mother
diligently. And when thou hast traversed Asia and the
bounds of Europe, thou wilt learn this for thyself; for the
god's sake I reared thee, my child, and now to thee do I
entrust these relics, which he willed that I should take into
my safe keeping, without being bidden ; why he willed it I
cannot tell thee. For no living soul wist that I had them
in my possession, nor yet their hiding-place. And no^f
farewell ! as a mother might her child, so I greet thee.
The * starting-point of thy inquiry for thy mother must be
this ; first, was it a Delphian maid that gave birth to thee,
and exposed thee in this temple ; next, was it a daughter of
Hellas at all ? That is all that I and Phcebus, who shares
in thy lot, can do for thee. [Exit PYTHIAN PRIESTESS.

ION. Ah me ! the tears stream from my eyes when I
think of the day my mother bore me, as the fruit of her
secret love, only to smuggle her babe away privily, without
suckling it ; nameless I led a servant's life in the courts of
the god. His service truly was kindly, yet was my fortune

1 Lines 1364 — 1368 were marked by Hirzel as spurious, and Nauck
in his text concurs in that opinion.

ION. 309

heavy; for just when I ought to have lain softly in a
mother's arms, tasting somewhat of the joys of life, was I
deprived of a fond mother's fostering care. Nor less is she
a: prey to sorrow that bare me, seeing she hath suffered the
self-same pang in losing all the joy a son might bring.
Now will I take and bear this ark unto the god as an
offering, that herein I may discover naught that I would
rather not. For if haply my mother proves to be some
slave-girl, 'twere worse to find her out than let her rest in
silence. O ! Phoebus, to thy temple do I dedicate this ark.
Yet why ? this is to war against the god's intention, who
saved these tokens of my mother for my sake. I must
undo the lid and bear the worst. For that which fate
ordains, I may ne'er o'erstep. O ! hallowed wreaths and
fastenings, that have kept so safe these relics dear to me ;
why, ah ! why were ye hidden from me ? Behold the covering
of this rounded ark ! No signs of age are here, owing to
some miracle ;l decay hath not touched these chaplets ; and
yet 'tis long enough since these were stored away.

CRE. Ha ! what unlooked-for sight is here ?

ION. Peace, woman ! now,a as erst, thou art my enemy.

CRE. Silence is not for me. Bid me not be still ; for lo ! I
see the ark wherein I did expose thee, my child, in days
gone by, whilst 3 yet a tender babe [in the cavern of Cecrops,
'neath the rocky roof of Macrae]. So now will I leave this
altar, though death await me.

ION. Seize her; she is mad, springing thus from the
shelter of the carved altar. Bind her arms.

CRE. Kill ! spare not ! for I to thee will cleave, and to
this ark, and all that is within it.

1 Badham reads TV%II£ for TIVOQ.

2 Following Paley's emendation mya' TroXf/tia icai irapoiQtv TioQd /tot
for the corrupt MSS. reading, aiyav av iroXXd icai irapoi9ev olvQd fioi.
Nauck has oiya o!>' TroXX?), K.r.X.

3 Nauck regards 1399 as spurious ; Paley preserves it, but would
omit 1400.

3IO EURIPIDZS. [L. 1406-1452

ION. Is not this monstrous? here am I laid claim to
on a specious pretext.1

CRE. Nay, nay, but as a friend art thou by friends now
found.

ION. I a friend of thine ! and wouldst thou, then, have
slain me privily?

CRE. Thou art my child, if that is what a parent holds most
dear.

ION. An end to thy web of falsehood ! Right well will I
convict thee.

CRE. My child, that is my aim; God grant I reach
it!

ION. Is this ark empty, or hath it aught within ?

CRE. Thy raiment wherein I exposed thee long ago.

ION. Wilt put a name thereto before thou see it ?

CRE. Unless I describe it, I offer to die.

ION. Say on ; there is something strange in this thy con-
fidence.

CRE. Behold the robe my childish fingers wove.

ION. Describe it ; maidens weave many a pattern.

CRE. Tis not perfect, but a first lesson, as it were, in
weaving.

ION. Describe its form ; thou shalt not catch me thus

CRE. A Gorgon figures in the centre of the warp.

ION. Great Zeus ! what fate is this that dogs my steps ?

CRE. 'Tis fringed with snakes like an aegis.

ION. Lo ! 'tis the very robe ; how true we find the voice
of God!2

CRE. Ah ! woven work that erst my virgin shuttle
wrought.

ION. Is there aught beside, or stays thy lucky guessing
here?

1 So MSS. Xoyr/;, Badham S6\v, Wecklein /3i'f .

a Badham gives an ingenious emendation, rdd' taff vQavna

ION. 311

CRE. There be serpents, too, with jaws of gold, an old-
world symbol.1

ION. Is that Athena's gift, bidding2 her race grow up
under their guardianship ?

CRE. Yes, to copy our ancestor Erichthonius.

ION. What is their object ? what the use of these golden
gauds ? pray, tell.

CRE. Necklaces for the new-born babe to wear, my
child.

ION. Lo ! here they lie. Yet would I know the third
sign.

CRE. About thy brow I bound an olive-wreath that day,
plucked from the tree Athena first made grow on her own
rock. If haply that is there, it hath not lost its verdure yet,
but still is fresh, for it came from the stock that grows not
old.

ION. Mother, dearest mother, with what rapture I behold
thee, as on thy cheeks, that share my joy, I press my lips !

CRE. My son, light that in thy mother's eye outshinest
yonder sun, — I know the god will pardon me, — in my arms
I hold thee, whom I never hoped to find, for I thought thy
home was in that nether world, among the ghosts with Queen
Persephone.

ION. Ah, dear mother mine ! within thy arms I rest, the
dead now brought to light, and dead no more.

CRE. Hail, thou broad expanse of bright blue sky ! What
words can I find to utter my joy aloud ? Whence comes to
me such unexpected rapture? To what do I owe this
Miss?

ION. This is the last thing that ever would have occurred
to me, mother, that I was thy child.
CRE. With fear I tremble still.
ION. Dost thou doubt my reality ?

1 MSS. apxalov rt. Person proposed cpdicovTe papfiatpcvr*.

2 Reading r) T'IKV' ivrptyfiv Xeytt.

312 EURIPIDES. [L. 1453-1524

CRE. Far from me had I banished these hopes. Whence,
O whence, lady, didst thou take my babe into thy arms ?
Who carried him to the courts of Loxias ?

ION. Tis a miracle ! Oh ! may we for the rest of our
career be happy, as we were hapless heretofore.

CRE. In tears wert thou brought forth, my child, and with
sorrow to thy mother didst thou leave her arms ; but now I
breathe again as I press my lips to thy cheek, in full enjoy-
ment of happiness.

ION. Thy words express our mutual feelings.

CRE. No more am I of son and heir bereft ; my house is
stablished and my country hath a prince; Erechtheus
groweth young again ; no longer is the house of the earth-
born race plunged in gloom, but lifts its eyes unto the radiant
sun.

ION. Mother mine, since my father too is here, let him
share the joy I have brought to thee.

CRE. My child, my child, what sayst thou? How is my
sin finding me out !

ION. What meanest thou ?

CRE. Thou art of a different, far different stock.

ION. Alas for me 1 Am I a bastard, then, born in thy
maiden days?

CRE. Nor nuptial torch nor dance, my child, ushered in
my wedding and thy birth.

ION. O mother, mother ! whence do I draw my base
origin ?

CRE. Be witness she who slew the Gorgon,

ION. What meanest thou ?

CRE. She that on my native rocks makes the olive-cla<
hill her seat.

ION. Thy words to me are but as cunning riddles. }
cannot read them.

CRE. Hard by the rock with nightingales melodious.
Phoebus,

ION. 313

ION. Why dost thou mention Phoebus?

CRE. Forced on me his secret love.

ION. Say on ; for thy story will crown me with fame and
fortune.

CRE. And as the tenth month came round I bore a child
to Phoebus in secret.

ION. Oh ! thy happy tidings, if thy story is true.

CRE. And about thee as swaddling-clothes I fastened this
my maiden work, the faulty efforts of my loom. But to my
breast I never held thy lips, or suckled or washed thee with
a mother's care ; but in a desert cave wert thou cast out to
die, for taloned kites to rend and feast upon.

ION. An awful deed I O mother !

CRE. Fear held me captive, and I cast thy life away, my
child ; I would, though loth, have slain thee too.

ION. Thou too wert all but slain by me most impiously.

CRE. O the horror of all I suffered then ! O the horror
of what is to follow now ! To and fro from bad to good we
toss, though now the gale is shifting round. May it remain
steady ! the past brought sorrows enough ; but now hath a
fair breeze sprung up, my son, to waft us out of woe.

CHO. Let no man ever deem a thing past hoping for,
when he turns an eye towards what is happening now.

ION. O Fortune ! who ere now hast changed the lot of
countless mortals first to grief, and then to joy again, to
what a goal my life had come, even to staining my hands
with a mother's blood and enduring sufferings ill-deserved !
Ah well ! may we not learn these truths daily in all that
the bright sun embraces? O mother, in thee have I
made a happy discovery, and from my point of view there
is no fault to find with my birth ; but what remains I fain
would speak to thee apart. Come hither, for I would say
a word in thine ear, and o'er these matters cast the veil of
silence. Bethink thee, mother, carefully ; didst thou make
the fatal slip, that maidens will, as touching secret amours,

314 EURIPIDES. [L. 1525-1595

and then upon the god wouldst foist the blame, in thy
anxiety to escape the shame of my birth asserting that
Phoebus is my sire, albeit the god was not the parent.

CRE. Nay, by our queen of Victory, Athena, that fought
by Zeus, in days gone by, high on his car against the earth-
born giants I swear, no mortal is thy father, my son, but
King Loxias himself who brought thee up.

ION. How then is it he gave his own child to another
father, declaring that I was begotten of Xuthus ?

CRE. " Begotten " he never said, but as a gift he doth
bestow thee his own son on him ; for friend might give to
friend even his own son to rule his house.

ION. Mother mine, this thought disturbs my breast, as
well it may, whether the god speaks truth or gives an idle
oracle.

CRE. Hear, then, my son, the thought that hath occurred
to me ; Loxias out of kindness is establishing thee in a noble
family, for hadst thou been called the god's son, thou hadst
never inherited a father's home and name. How couldst
thou, when I strove to hide my marriage with him and
would have slain thee privily ? But he for thy interest is
handing thee over to another father.

ION. Not thus lightly do I pursue the inquiry; nay, I
will enter Apollo's shrine and question him whether I am
the child of a mortal sire or his own son. Ha ! who is that
hovering o'er the incense-smoking roof, and showing to our
gaze a heavenly face, bright as the sun? Let us fly, mother,
that we see not sights divine, unless haply it is right
we should.

ATH. Fly not ! I am no foe ye seek to shun, but alike
in Athens and this place your kindly friend. Tis I, Pallas,
after whom your land is named, that am here, by Apollo
sent in headlong haste; for he thought not fit to appear
before you twain, lest his coming might provoke reproaches
for the past ; but me he sends to proclaim to you his words,

ION. 315

how that this is thy mother, and Apollo thy sire; while thy-
self he doth bestow, as seems him good, not indeed on him
that begat1 thee, nay, but that he may bring thee to a house of
high repute. For when this matter was brought to light, he
devised a way of deliverance, fearing that thou wouldst be
slain by thy mother's wiles and she by thine. Now it was
King Apollo's wish to keep this matter secret awhile, and then
in Athens to acknowledge this lady as thy mother and thyself
as the child of her and Phoebus. But to end the business
and discharge his oracles for the god, I bid you hearken ; for
such was my purpose in yoking my chariot-steeds. Do
thou, Creusa, take this stripling and to Cecrops' land set
forth ; and there upon the monarch's throne establish him,
for from Erechtheus' stock is he sprung, and therefore hath
a right to rule that land of mine. Through Hellas shall his
fame extend; for his children, — four branches springing from
one root, — shall give their names to the land and to the
tribes of folk therein that dwell upon the rock I love.
Teleon 2 shall be the first ; and next in order shall come the
Hopletes and Argades ; and then the -^Egicores, called after
my aegis, shall form one tribe. And their children again
shall in the time appointed found an island home amid the
Cyclades and on the sea-coast, thereby strengthening my
country ; for they shall dwell upon the shores of two con-
tinents, of Europe and of Asia, on either side the strait ; and
in honour of Ion's name shall they be called lonians
and win them high renown. From Xuthus too and thee
I see a common stock arise ; Dorus, whence the famous
Dorian state will spring ; and after him Achaeus in the land
of Pelops ; he shall lord it o'er the seaboard nigh to Rhium,
and his folk, that bear his name, shall win the proud dis-
tinction of their leader's title. Thus in all hath Apollo

1 ov (frvoam at, Stephens' emendation for o5 fyaoi trs.
a Fanciful derivations for the names of the four primitive Attic tribes
arc here given.

3l6 EURIPIDES. [L. 1596-1624

rightly done ; first did he deliver thee of thy babe without
sickness, so that thy friends knew naught ; and after thou
didst bear this child and in swaddling-clothes hadst laid
him, he bade Hermes carry him in his arms hither, and
did rear him, suffering him not to die. Now therefore
hold thy peace as to this thy child's real parentage, that
Xuthus may delight in his fond fancy, and thou, lady,
continue to enjoy thy blessing. So fare ye well ! for to
you I bring tidings of a happier fate after this respite from
affliction.

ION. O Pallas, daughter of almighty Zeus, in full as-
surance will we accept thy words ; for I am convinced of
my parentage from Loxias and this lady; which l even before
was not incredible.

CRE. To what I say give ear. My former blame of
Phoebus now is turned to praise, because he now restores to
me the babe whom erst he slighted. Now are these 2 portals
fair unto mine eyes and this oracle of the god, though
before I hated them. With joy now I even cling to the
knocker on the door and salute the gates.

ATM. I commend thee for thy sudden change, and thy
fair words about the god. 'Tis ever thus ; Heaven's justice
may tarry awhile, yet comes it at the last in no wise
weakened.

CRE. My son, let us set out for home.

ATH. Go ; I will follow.

ION. A guide we well may prize.

CRE. Aye, and one that holds our city dear.

ATH. Go, sit thee down upon the throne of thy an-
cestors.

ION. 'Tis my heritage and I value it.

1 Dobree emends Kei rovr airiarov i}v ipoi which certainly gives a
meaning more consistent with the facts.

2 Kirchhoff reads xa'P(T> f°r a>t^£ ^ •

ION. 317

CHO. All hail, Apollo, son of Zeus and Latona ! 'Tis
only right that he, whose house is sore beset with trouble,
should reverence God and keep good heart ; for at the last
the righteous find their just reward, but the wicked, as their
nature is, will never prosper.

HELEN.

DRAMATIS PERSONS.

HELEN.

TEUCER.

CHORUS (Ladles attendant on HELEN).

MENELAUS.

OLD WOMAN (Portress).

MESSENGER.

THEONOE.

THEOCLYMENUS.

THE DIOSCURI.

SCENE.— Tomb of Proteus in the island of Pharos.

HELEN.

HEL. Lo ! these are the fair virgin streams of Nile, the
river that waters Egypt's tilth, fed by pure melting snow
instead of rain from heaven. Proteus during his life-time
was king of this land, dwelling in the isle of Pharos, and
ruling o'er Egypt ; and he took to wife one of the daughters
of the sea, Psamathe, after she left the embraces of ^Eacus.
Two children she bare in this his palace, a son Theocly-
menus, who l hath passed his life in duteous service to the
gods, and likewise a noble daughter, her mother's pride,
called Eido in her infancy, but when she reached her youth-
ful prime, the age for wedded joys, renamed Theonoe ; for
well she knew whate'er the gods design, both present and
to come, for she had won this guerdon from her grandsire
Nereus. Nor is my fatherland unknown to fame, e'en
Sparta, or my sire Tyndareus ; for a legend tells how Zeus
winged his way to my mother Leda's breast, in the sem-
blance of a bird, even a swan, and thus as he fled from an
eagle's pursuit, achieved by guile his amorous purpose, if
this tale be true. My name is Helen, and I will now re-
count the sorrows I have suffered. To a hollow vale on
Ida came three goddesses to Paris, for beauty's prize con-
tending, Hera and Cypris, and the virgin child of Zeus,
eager to secure his verdict on their loveliness. Now Cypris
held out my beauty, — if aught so wretched deserves that
name, — as a bribe before the eyes of Paris, saying he should

1 Reading oc with Hermann and Paley, with Scaliger's insertion of
', instead of on $/}.
Y

322 EURIPIDES. [L. 29-92

marry me; and so she won the day ; wherefore the shepherd
of Ida left his steading, and came to Sparta, thinking to win
me for his bride. But Hera, indignant at not defeating
the goddesses, brought to naught my marriage with Paris,
and gave to Priam's princely son not Helen, but a phantom
endowed with life, that she made in my image out of the
breath of heaven ; and Paris thought that I was his, although
I never was, — an idle fancy ! Moreover, the counsels of
Zeus added further troubles unto these ; for upon the land
of Hellas and the hapless Phrygians he brought a war, that
he might lighten mother-earth of her myriad hosts of men,
and to the bravest of the sons of Hellas bring renown. So
I was set up as a prize for all the chivalry of Hellas, to test
the might of Phrygia, yet not I, but my name alone; for
Hermes caught me up in the embracing air, and veiled me in
a cloud; for Zeus was not unmindful of me; and he set me
down here in the house of Proteus, judging him to be the
most virtuous of all mankind; that so I might preserve n.y
marriage with Menelaus free from taint. Here then I
abide, while my hapless lord has gathered an army, and is
setting out for the towers of Ilium to track and recover me.
And there by Seaman der's streams hath many a life breathed
out its last, and all for me ; and I, that have endured
all this, am accursed, and seem to have embroiled all
Hellas in a mighty war by proving a traitress to my husband.
Why, then, do I prolong my life? Because I heard Hermes
declare, that I should yet again make my home on Sparta's
glorious soil, with my lord, — for Hermes knew I never went to
Ilium, — that so I might never submit to any other's wooing.
Now as long as Proteus gazed upon yon glorious sun, I was
safe from marriage; but when o'er him the dark grave
closed, the dead man's son was eager for my hand. But I,
from regard to my former husband, am throwing myself down
in suppliant wise before this tomb of Proteus, praying him to
guard my husband's honour, that, though through Hellas I

HELEN. 323

bear a name dishonoured, at least my body here may not
incur disgrace.

TEU. Who is lord and master of this fenced palace?
The house is one I may compare to the halls of Plutus, with
its royal bulwarks and towering buildings. Ha ! great gods !
what sight is here ? I see the counterfeit of that fell mur-
derous dame, who ruined me and all the Achaeans. May
Heaven show its loathing for thee, so much dost thou re-
semble Helen ! Were I not standing on a foreign soil, with
this well-aimed shaft had I worked thy death, thy reward for
resembling the daughter of Zeus.

HEL. Oh ! why, poor man, whoe'er thou art, dost thou
turn from me, loathing me for those troubles Helen caused ?

TEU. I was wrong ; I yielded to my anger more than I
ought ; my l reason was, the hate all Hellas bears to that
daughter of Zeus. Pardon me, lady, for the words I
uttered.

HEL. Who art thou ? whence comest thou to visit this
land?

TEU. One of those hapless Achaeans am I, lady.

HEL.2 No wonder then that thou dost hate Helen. But
say, who art thou ? Whence comest ? By what name am
I to call thee?

TEU. My name is Teucer; my sire was Telamon, and
Salamis is the land that nurtured me.

HEL. Then why art thou visiting these meadows by the
Nile?

TEU. A wanderer I, an exile from my native land.

HEL. Thine must be a piteous lot ; who from thy country
drives thee out ?

TEU.' My father Telamon. Couldst find a nearer and a
dearer ?

1 This line is bracketed by Nauck as suspicious.

2 Badham regards the next three lines as spurious.

3 Nauck considers this and the next line Interpolated.

324 EURIPIDES. [L. 93-133

HEL. But why? This case is surely fraught with woe,

TEU. The death of Aias my brother at Troy, was my
ruin.

HEL. How so ? surely 'twas not thy sword that stole his
life away ?

TEU. He threw himself on his own blade and died.

HEL. Was he mad ? for who with sense endowed would
bring himself to this ?

TEU. Dost thou know aught of Achilles, son of Peleus ?

HEL. He came, so I have heard, to woo Helen once.

TEU. When he died, he left his arms for his comrades to
contest.

HEL. Well, if he did, what harm herein to Aias?

TEU. When another won these arms, to himself he put an
end.

HEL. Art thou then a sufferer by woes that he inflicted ?

TEU. Yes, because I did not join him in his death.

HEL. So thou earnest, sir stranger, to Ilium's famous
town ?

TEU. Aye, and, after helping to sack it, myself did learn
what ruin meant.

HEL. Is Troy already fired and utterly by flames con-
sumed?

TEU. Yea, so that not so much as one vestige of her
walls is now to be seen.

HEL. Woe is thee, poor Helen ! thou art the cause of
Phrygia's ruin.

TEU. And of Achaea's too. Ah 1 'tis a tale of grievous
misery !

HEL. How long is it since the city was sacked?

TEU. Nigh seven fruitful l seasons have come and gone.

HEL. And how much longer did ye abide in Troy ?

TEU. Many a weary month, till through ten full years
the moon had held her course.

1 Nauck proposes /ca/*7n/iov£ for /capTn'/ioyg, but unnecessarily it seems.

HELEN. 325

HEL. And did ye capture that Spartan dame ?

TEU. Menelaus caught her by the hair, and was for
dragging her away.

HEL. Didst thou thyself behold that unhappy one? or
art thou speaking from hearsay ?

TEU. As plain as I now see thee, I then saw her.

HEL. Consider whether ye were but indulging an idle
fancy sent by heaven.

TEU. Bethink thee of some other topic; no more of
her!

HEL.1 Are you so sure this fancy was reliable?

TEU.2 With these eyes I saw her face to face, if so be I see
thee now.

HEL. Hath Menelaus reached his home by this time with
his wife ?

TEU. No ; he is neither in Argos, nor yet by the streams
of Eurotas.

HEL. Ah me ! here is evil news for those to whom thou
art telling it.

TEU. 'Tis said he disappeared with his wife.

HEL. Did not all the Argives make the passage together ?

TEU. Yes ; but a tempest scattered them in every direc-
tion.

HEL. In what quarter of the broad ocean ?

TEU. They were crossing the ^Egean in mid channel.

HEL. And after that, doth no man know of Menelaus'
arrival ?

TEU. No, none ; but through Hellas is he reported to be
dead.

HEL. Then am I lost. Is the daughter of Thestius
alive ?

1 Nauck brackets this line and the next ; they were also condemned
by Ribbeck and Czwalina.

2 Reading CLVTOQ yap oaaoiQ ildov, ti teal vvv ff'opui. The correction
eldov ci is due to Clark, the /cat vvv a' opw to Hermann,

326 EURIPIDES. [L. 134-211

TEU. Dost speak of Leda? She Is dead; aye, dead and
gone.

HEL. Was it Helen's shame that caused her death ?

TEU. Aye, 'tis said she tied the noose about her noble
neck.

HEL. Are the sons of Tyndareus still alive or not ?

TEU. Dead, and yet alive : 'tis a double story.

HEL. Which is the more credible report ? Woe is me for
my sorrows !

TEU. Men say that they are gods in the likeness of
stars.

HEL. That is happy news ; but what is the other ru-
mour?

TEU. That they by self-inflicted wounds gave up the
ghost because of their sister's shame. But enough of such
talk ! I have no wish to multiply my griefs. The reason of
my coming to this royal palace was a wish to see that famous
prophetess Theonoe. Do thou the means afford, that I from
her may obtain an oracle how I shall steer a favourable course
to the sea-girt shores of Cyprus ; for there Apollo hath de-
clared my home shall be, giving to it the name of Salamis,
my island home, in honour of that fatherland across the main.

HEL. That shall the voyage itself explain, sir stranger ;
but do thou leave these shores and fly, ere the son of Proteus,
the ruler of this land, catch sight of thee. Now is he away
with his trusty hounds tracking his savage quarry to the
death ; for every stranger that he catcheth from the land of
Hellas doth he slay. His reason never ask to know ; my
lips are sealed ; for what could word of mine avail thee ?

TEU. Lady, thy words are fair. Heaven grant thee a
fair requital for this kindness ! For though in form thou
dost resemble Helen, thy soul is not like hers, nay, very
different. Perdition seize her ! May she never reach the
streams of Eurotas ! But thine be joy for evermore, lady !

{Exit TEUCER.

HELEN. 327

HEL. Ah me ! what piteous dirge shall I strive to utter,
now that I am beginning my strain of bitter lamentation ?
What Muse shall I approach with tears or songs of death or
woe ? Ah me ! ye Sirens, Earth's virgin daughters, winged
maids, come, oh ! come to aid my mourning, bringing with you
the Libyan flute or pipe, to T waft to Persephone's ear a tearful
plaint, the echo of my sorrow, with grief for grief, and mourn-
ful chant for chant, with songs of death and doom to match
my lamentation, that in return she may receive from me, be-
sides my tears, dirges for the departed dead beneath her
gloomy roof !

CHO. Beside the deep-blue water I chanced to be hang-
ing purple robes along the tendrils green and on the sprout-
ing reeds, to dry them in the sun-god's golden blaze, when 2
lo ! I heard a sound of woe, a mournful wail, the voice of
one crying aloud in her anguish ; yea, such a cry of woe as
Naiad nymph might send ringing o'er the hills, while to her
cry the depths of rocky grots re-echo her screams at the
violence of Pan.

HEL. Woe ! woe ! ye maids of Hellas, booty of barba-
rian sailors ! one hath come, an Achaean mariner, bringing
fresh tears to me, the news of Ilium's overthrow, how that it
is left to the mercy of the foeman's flame, and all for me the
murderess, or for my name with sorrow fraught. While for
anguish at my deed of shame, hath Leda sought her death
by hanging ; and on the deep, to weary wandering doomed
my lord hath met his end ; and Castor and his brother, twin
glory of their native land, are vanished from men's sight,
leaving the plains that shook to their galloping steeds, and
the course beside reed-fringed Eurotas, where those youthful
athletes strove.

CHO. Ah, misery ! Alas ! for thy grievous destiny !

1 Paley's reading, adopted from Hermann, is here followed.

2 Reading with Badham ivOtv OIKT^OV opaSov tVcXuor, and omitting
drt(36a<rtv} with a lacuna before

328 EURIPIDES. [L. 212-293

Woe for thy sad lot, lady ! Ah ! 'twas a day of sorrow meted
out for thee when Zeus came glancing through the sky on
snowy pinions like a swan and won thy mother's heart. What
evil is not thine ? Is there a grief in life that thou hast not
endured ? Thy mother is dead ; the two dear sons of Zeus
have perished miserably,1 and thou art severed from thy
country's sight, while through the towns of men a rumour
runs, consigning thee, my honoured mistress, to a barbarian's
bed ; and 'mid the ocean waves thy lord hath lost his life,
and never, never more shalt thou fill with glee thy father's
halls or Athena's temple of the " Brazen House."

HEL. Ah ! who was that Phrygian, who was he,a that felled
that pine with sorrow fraught for Ilium, and for those that
came from Hellas? Hence it was that Priam's son his
cursed barque did build, and sped by barbarian oars sailed
unto my home, in quest of beauty, woman's curse, to win
me for his bride; and with him sailed the treacherous queen
of Love, on slaughter bent, with death alike for Priam's
sons, and Danai too. Ah me ! for my hard lot ! Next,
Hera, stately bride of Zeus, seated on her golden throne,
sent the son of Maia, swift of foot, who caught me up as
I was gathering fresh rose-buds in the folds of my robe,
that I might go to the " Brazen House," and bore me
through the air to this loveless land, making me an object
of unhappy strife 'twixt Hellas and the race of Priam. And
my name is but a sound without reality beside the streams
of Simois.

CHO. Well I know thou hast a bitter lot to bear; still 'tis
best to bear as lightly as we may the ills that life is heir to.

HEL. Good friends, to what a fate am I united ? Did
not my mother bear me to be a monster to the world ? For :1

1 Herwerden conjectures OVK tor' iv <f>aei for MS.
3 The reading followed is Hermann's correction, as adopted by Paley
in place of the old unmetrical and unmeaning reading.
3 Badham regards lines 257-259 as spurious.

HELEN. 329

no woman, Hellene or barbarian, gives birth to babes in
eggs inclosed, as they say Leda bare me to Zeus. My life
and all I do is one miracle, partly owing to Hera, and partly
is my beauty to blame. Would God I could rub my beauty
out like a picture, and assume 1 hereafter in its stead a form
less comely, and oh ! that Hellas had forgotten the evil fate
that now I bear, and were now remembering my career of
honour as surely as they do my deeds of shame. Now, if a
man doth turn his eyes to a single phase of fortune, and
meets ill-usage at heaven's hands, 'tis hard no doubt ; but
still it can be borne ; but I in countless troubles am in-
volved. First, although I never sinned, my good name is
gone. And this is a grief beyond the reality, if a man incurs
blame for sins that are not his. Next, have the gods re-
moved me from my native land, to dwell with men of barbarous
habits, and reft of every friend, I am become a slave though
free by birth ; for amongst barbarians all are slaves but one.
And the last anchor that held my fortunes, the hope that
my husband would return one day, and rid me of my woes,
is now no more, lost since the day he died. My mother
too, is dead, and I am called her murderess, unjustly it is
true, but still that injustice is mine to bear ; and she that
was the glory of my house, my darling child, is -growing old
and grey, unwedded still ; and those twin brethren, called
the sons of Zeus, are now no more. But 'tis fortune, not
my own doing, that hath crushed me with sorrow and slain
me. And this is the last evil of all ; if ever I come to my
native land, they will shut me up in prison, thinking me
that Helen of Ilium, in quest of whom Menelaus came
thither. Were my husband still alive, we might have recog-
nized each other, by having recourse to tokens which our-
selves alone would know. But now this may not be, nor is
there any chance of his escape. Why then do I prolong

1 Reading Hermann's Xdfioiv = Xri/3o«/u for MS. \apelv. Person
proposed '\apov and Nauck's text gives ikafiov.

330 EURIPIDES. [L. 294-356

my life ? What fortune have I still in store ? Shall I choose
marriage as an alternative of evils, and dwell with a barbarian
lord, seated at his sumptuous board ? No ! when a husband
she loathes is mated with a woman, even life is loathly to
her. Best for her to die ; but how shall I die a noble death?
The l dangling noose is an uncomely end ; even slaves con-
sider it a disgrace ; to stab oneself hath something fair and
noble in it ; 'tis a small thing that moment of ridding
the flesh 2 of life. Yes, it must be ; I am plunged so deep
in misery ; for that beauty, which to other women is a boon,
to me hath been a very bane.

CHO. Helen, never believe that the stranger, whoe'er he
was that came, has spoken naught but truth.

HEL. Yet he said so clearly that my lord was dead.

CHO. There is much that falsehood seems to make quite
clear.

HEL. The word 3 of truth hath a very different sound to
falsehood.

CHO. Thou art inclined to misfortune, rather than to
luck.

HEL. Fear girds me with terrors as with a garment, and
takes me in her train.

CHO. What friends hast thou within the palace ?

HEL. All are my friends here save him who seeks to wed
me.

CHO. Thy action then is clear ; leave thy seat at the
tomb.

HEL. To what words or advice art thou leading up?

CHO. Go in and question the daughter of the ocean
Nereid, who knoweth all things, even Theonoe, whether thy
husband is still alive, or whether he hath left the light of
day; and when thou knowest for certain, be glad or sor-

1 Lines 299-302 are rejected by Hartung.

2 aapKa is Hermann's emendation for apri.
* Reading with Hermann aXijQeiag (TTIJ.

HELEN. 331

rowful, as fits thy fortune. But before thou hast any correct
information, what shall sorrow avail thee? Nay, hearken
to me; leave this tomb and seek the maiden's company,
that she may tell thee the truth, for from her shalt thou
learn all. If thou abide here in this building, what prospect
hast thou? And I will myself go in with thee, and with
thee inquire of the maiden's oracles ; for 'tis a woman's
bounden duty to share a sister's trouble.

HEL. Kind friends, I welcome your advice. Come in,
come in, that ye may learn the result of my struggle within
the palace.

CHO. Thy invitation comes to very willing ears.

HEL. Woe for this heavy day ! Ah me ! what mournful
tidings shall I hear ?

CHO. Dear mistress mine, be not a prophetess of sorrow,
forestalling lamentation.

HEL. What is the fate of my poor husband ? Doth he
still behold the light [turning towards1] the sun-god's chariot
and the stars in their courses ?

CHO. * * * *

HEL. * * * *

Or among the dead, beneath the earth, is he to death con-
signed ?

CHO. Of the future take a brighter view, whatever shall
betide.

HEL. On thee I call, and thee adjure, Eurotas green with
river-reeds, to tell me if this rumour of my husband's death
be true.

CHO. What boots this meaningless appeal ?

HEL. About my neck will I fasten the deadly noose from
above, or drive the murderous knife with self-aimed thrust
deep into my throat to sever it, striving to cut my flesh, a

1 The first ei'f is omitted by Nauck, the second is bracketed as
spurious, being also rejected by Badham.

332 EURIPIDES. [L. 357-41?

sacrifice to those goddesses three and to that son of Priam,1
who in days gone by would wake the music of his pipe
around his steading.

CHO. Oh may sorrow be averted otherwhither, and thou be
blest !

HEL. Woe is thee, unhappy Troy ! Thou through
deeds not done by thee art ruined, and hast suffered direst
woe ; for the gift that Cypris gave to me, hath caused a sea
of blood to flow, and many an eye to weep, with grief on
grief and tear on tear. All * this hath Ilium suffered ....
nnd mothers [have lost] their children; and virgin sisters of
the slain have cut off their tresses by the swollen tide of
Phrygian Scamander. And the land of Hellas hath lifted
her voice of woe and broken forth in wailing, smiting on
her head, and making tender cheeks to stream with gore
beneath the rending nail. Ah blest maid Callisto, who long
ago in Arcady didst find favour with Zeus, in the sem-
blance of a beast four-footed, how much happier was thy
lot than my mother's, for 3 thou hast changed the burden of
thy grief and now with savage eye art weeping o'er thy
shaggy monster-shape ; aye, and hers was a happier lot,
whom on a day Artemis drove from her choir, changed to a
hind with horns of gold, the fair Titanian maid, daughter of
Merops, because of her beauty; but my fair form hath
proved the curse of Dardan Troy and doomed Achaea's
sons. [Exit HELEN.

MEN. Ah ! Pelops, easy victor long ago o'er thy rival

1 Reading r<$ Tf avpiyywv aoiddv aefBiZovn Hputpidg, as reconstructed
by Musgrave and Hermann from the corrupt MS.

3 The text here is corrupt and something has probably been lost,
though the sense is tolerably clear.

3 Reading a fiop<f>d^ Orjputv Xa^voyv iwv 5/i/iart Xa/3/t>y 0\r)fia duuvetf,
t£aXXa£a£' d^Ota Xvirrjg. Hermann suggested diaiveis for \taivi)s and
/iop^eif for floppy. The mention of a lioness is scarcely appropriate, for
Callisto was changed into a bear, which transformation she is now said
to be lamenting instead of a former and greater misfortune.

HELEN. 333

CEnomaus in the chariot-race l on Pisa's plain, would thou
hadst ended thy career amongst the gods that day [thou2
wert beguiled into making a banquet for them], or ever
thou hadst begotten my father Atreus, to whom were born by
ALrope his wife, Agamemnon and myself Menelaus, an illus-
trious pair ; and herein I make no idle boast, for 'twas a
mighty host, I trow, that I their leader carried o'er the sea to
Troy, using no violence to make them follow me, but lead-
ing all the chivalry of Hellas by voluntary consent. And
some of these must we number 'mid the slain, and some
to their joy have 'scaped the sea, bearing to their homes
again names long reckoned dead. But I, poor wretch, go
wandering o'er grey Ocean's swell a weary space, long as
that which saw me sack the towers of Ilium ; and for all my
longing to reach my country I am not counted worthy of
this boon by heaven, but to Libya's desert cheerless road-
steads have I sailed, to each and all of them ; and when-
soe'er I draw me near my native land, the storm-wind
drives me back again, and never yet have favouring breezes
filled my sails, to let me reach my fatherland. And now a
wretched, shipwrecked mariner, my friends all lost, am I
cast up upon this shore; and my ship is shattered in a
thousand pieces against the rocks ; and its keel was wrested
from its cunning fastenings; thereon did I with difficulty
escape, most unexpectedly, and Helen also, for her had I
rescued from Troy and had with me. But the name
of this country and its people I know not ; for I blushed 3 to
mingle with the crowd to question them, anxious for very

1 «>. when Pelops won as his prize Hippodamia.

2 There is some corruption here. Hermann supposes something lost,
and boldly rewrites the passage (cf. Paley's note), which is inclosed in
brackets by Nauck.

3 The punctuation here followed is that of Nauck, who differs con-
siderably from Paley, putting a comma after laropfiffai alone, and
reading rije t/ijje for the MS. rag

334 EURIPIDES. [L. 418-467

shame to hide my misfortunes which reduce me to these
sorry rags. For when a man of high degree meets with
adversity, he feels the strangeness of his fallen state more
keenly than a sufferer of long standing. Dire want is
wasting me ; for I have neither food, nor raiment to gird
myself withal ; behold the facts before you to judge from — I
am clad in tatters cast up from the ship ; while all the robes
I once did wear, glorious attire and ornaments, hath the sea
swallowed ; and in a cavern's deep recesses have I hidden
my wife, the cause of all my trouble, and have come hither,
after straitly charging the survivors of my friends to watch
her. Alone am I come, seeking for those there left some
help, if haply I may find it after careful search. So when
I saw this palace girt with towering walls and stately
gates of some prosperous lord, I drew nigh ; for I have hope
to obtain somewhat for my sailors from this wealthy house,
whereas from houses which have no store, the inmates for
all their goodwill could furnish naught. Ho ! there, who
keeps the gate and will come forth to bear my tale of woe
into the house ?

FOR. Who stands before the door? Begone from the
house! stand not at the court-yard gate, annoying my
masters ! otherwise shalt thou die, for thou art a Hellene
born, and with them have we no dealings.

MEN. Mother, herein sayest thou rightly on all points.
'Tis well ; I will obey ; but moderate thy words.1

FOR. Away ! stranger, my orders are to admit no Hellene
to this palace.

MEN. Ha ! do not seek to push 2 me hence, or thrust me
away by violence.

1 The MS. has a.vtq Xoyov, for which Hermann proposes dvec pbvov,
i.e. "only open." Jerram avef \6\ov or \6\ov, the emendation of
Clark.

3 Paley suggests xetpt as a likely correction of x€tpa. Matthiae reads
9rod(7i(c for the MS.

HELEN. 335

FOR. Thou dost not heed my words, and therefore hast
thyself to blame.

MEN. Carry my message to thy master in the palace.

FOR. Some one would rue it, methinks, were I to take thy
message.

MEN. I come as a shipwrecked man and a stranger, whom
heaven protects.

FOR. Well, get thee to some other house than this.

MEN. Nay, but I will pass into the house; so listen
to me.

FOR. Let me tell thee thou art unwelcome, and soon wilt
be forcibly ejected.

MEN. Ah me ! where are now those famous troops of
mine?

FOR. Elsewhere maybe thou wert a mighty man ; thou art
not here.

MEN. O fortune ! I have not deserved such contumely.

FOR. Why are thy eyes with tear-drops wet ? Why so
sad?

MEN. 'Tis the contrast with my fortunes erst so blest.

FOR. Hence ! then, and give thy friends those tears.

MEN. What land is this ? whose is the palace?

FOR. Proteus lives here. It is the land of Egypt.

MEN. Egypt ? Woe is me ! to think that hither I have
sailed !

FOR. Pray, what fault hast thou to find with the race l of
Nile?

MEN. 'Twas no fault I found ; my own disasters I
lament.

FOR. T here be plenty in evil case ; thou art not the only
one.

MEN. Is the king, of whom thou speakest, here within ?

FOR. There is his tomb ; his son rules in his stead.

MEN. And where may he be ? abroad, or in the house ?
1 Another reading is

336 EURIPIDES. [L. 468-539

FOR. He is not within. To Hellas is he a bitter foe.

MEN. His reason, pray, for this enmity? the results
whereof I have experienced.

FOR. Beneath this roof dwells the daughter of Zeus,
Helen.

MEN. What mean'st thou ? what is it thou hast said?
Repeat, I pray, thy words.

FOR. The daughter of Tyndareus is here, who erst in
Sparta dwelt.

MEN. Whence came she ? What means this business ?

FOR. She came from Lacedaemon hither.

MEN. When ? Surely I have never been robbed of my
wife from the cave !

FOR. Before the Achaean s went to Troy, sir stranger. But
get thee hence ; for somewhat hath chanced within, whereat
the whole palace is in an uproar. Thou comest most unsea-
sonably ; and if my master catch thee, death will be thy
stranger's gift. This say I, because to Hellas I am well dis-
posed, albeit I gave thee harsh answers for fear of my
master. {Exit PORTRESS.

MEN. What can I think or say? For after my previous
troubles, this is a fresh piece of ill-luck I hear, if, indeed,
after recovering my wife from Troy and bringing her hither,
and putting her for safety in the cave, I am then to find
another woman living here with the same name as my wife.
She called her the begotten child of Zeus. Can there be a
man that hath the name of Zeus by the banks of Nile ? The
Zeus of heaven is only one, at any rate. Where is there a
Sparta in the world save where Eurotas glides between his
reedy banks ? The name of Tyndareus is the name of one
alone. Is there any land of the same name as Lacedaemon
or Troy ? I know not what to say ; for l naturally there are
many in the wide world that have the same names, cities and
women too ; there is nothing, then, to marvel at. Nor yet
1 Lines 497-499 are condemned by Badham.

HELEN. 337

again will I fly from the alarm a servant raises ; for there is
none so cruel of heart as to refuse me food when once he
hears my name. All have heard of Ilium's burning, and I,
that set it ablaze, am famous now throughout the world, I,
Menelaus. .. .' I therefore wait the master of this house. There
are two issues I must watch ; if he prove somewhat stern of
heart, I will to my wreck and there conceal myself; but if
he show any sign of pity, I will ask for help in this my pre-
sent strait. This is the crowning woe in all my misery, to
beg the means of life from other princes, prince though I be
myself; still needs must I. Yea, this is no saying of mine,
but a word of wisdom, " Naught in might exceedeth dread
necessity."

CHO. I have heard the voice of the maiden inspired.
Clear is the answer she hath vouchsafed within yon palace,
declaring that Menelaus is not yet dead and buried, passed
to the land of shades, where darkness takes the place of
light ; but on the stormy main is wearing out his life, nor yet
hath reached the haven of his country, a wanderer dragging
out a piteous existence, reft of every friend, setting foot in
every corner of the world, as he voyageth home from Troy.

HEL. Lo ! once again I seek the shelter of this tomb, with
Theonoe's sweet tidings in my ears ; she that knoweth all
things of a truth ; for she saith my lord is yet alive and in the
light of day, albeit he is roaming to and fro after many a
weary voyage, and hither shall he come whenso he reach
the limit of his toils, no novice in the wanderer's life.
But one thing did she leave unsaid. Is he to escape when
he hath come ? And I refrained from asking that question
clearly, so glad was I when she told me he was safe. For
she said that he was somewhere nigh this shore, cast up by
shipwreck with a handful of friends. Ah ! when shall I see

1 Dindorf supposes a line has been lost here, containing a finite verb.
Hermann endeavours to complete the sense by reading irpoanivw £'.
Others reading Trpoa/xerw, transpose SiavaQ and txtt, after Musgrave.

z

338 EURIPIDES. [L. 540-587

thee come ? How welcome will thy advent be ! Ha ! who
is this? Am I being snared by some trick of Proteus'
impious son ? Oh ! let me, like a courser at its speed, or a
votary of Bacchus, approach the tomb ! for there is some-
thing wild about this fellow's looks, who is eager to overtake
me.

MEN. Ho there ! thou that with fearful effort seekest to
reach the basement of the tomb and the pillars of burnt sacri-
fice, stay thee. Wherefore art flying? Ah! with what
speechless amaze the sight of thee affects me !

HEL. O friends ! I am being ill-treated. This fellow is
keeping me from the tomb, and is eager to take and give me
to his master, whose wooing I was seeking to avoid.

MEN. No robber I, or minister of evil.

HEL. At any rate the garb wherein thou art clad, is
unsightly.

MEN. Stay thy hasty flight ; put fear aside.

HEL. I do so, now that I have reached this spot.

MEN. Who art thou ? whom do I behold in thee, lady ?

HEL. Nay, who art thou ? The self-same reason prompts
us both.

MEN. I never saw a closer resemblance.

HEL. Great God ! Yea, for to recognize our friends is of
God.

MEN. Art thou from Hellas, or a native of this land?

HEL. From Hellas ; but I would learn thy story too.

MEN. Lady, in thee I see a wondrous likeness to Helen.

HEL. And I in thee to Menelaus ; I know not what to say.

MEN. Well, thou hast recognized aright a man of many
sorrows.

HEL. Hail ! to thy wife's arms restored at last !

MEN. Wife indeed ! Lay not a finger on my robe.

HEL. The wife that Tyndareus, my father, gave thee.

MEN. O Heca-te, giver of light, send thy visions favour-
ably !

HELEN. 339

HEL. In me thou beholdest no spectre of the night, atten-
dant on the queen of phantoms.

MEN. Nor yet am I in my single person the husband of
two wives.

HEL. What other woman calls thee lord ?

MEN. The inmate of yonder cave, whom I from Troy
convey.

HEL. Thou hast none other wife but me.

MEN. Can it be my mind is wandering, my sight failing ?

HEL. Dost not believe thou seest in me thy wife ?

MEN. Thy form resembles her, but the real truth robs 1
me of this belief.

HEL. Observe me well ; what need hast thou of clearer
proof?2

MEN. Thou art like her ; that will I never deny.

HEL. Who then shall teach thee, unless it be thine own
eyes?

MEN. Herein is my dilemma ; I have another wife.

HEL. To Troy I never went; that was a phantom.

MEN. Pray, who fashions living bodies ?

HEL. The air, whence thou hast a wife of heaven's
workmanship.

MEN. What god's handiwork ? Strange is the tale thou
tellest.

HEL. Hera made it as a substitute, to keep me from
Paris.

MEN. How then couldst thou have been here, and in
Troy, at the same time?

1 Lightfoot proposed airoaTtptiQ, the meaning then being " thy like-
ness to Helen robs me of all certainty in deciding which of you is really
my wife." Nauck here, as in many other difficult passages, pronounces
the line corrupt, perhaps truly.

2 The line is corrupt, and no very satisfactory emendation has been
offered ; that of Rauchenstein, followed by Nauck, ri ffoi 6tl

perhaps gives the sense.

340 EURIPIDES. [L. 588-649

HEL. The name may be in many a place at once, though
not the body.

MEN. Unhand me ! the sorrows I brought with me suffice.

HEL. What ! wilt leave me, and take that phantom bride
away?

MEN For thy likeness unto Helen, fare thee well.

HEL. Ruined ! in thee I found my lord only to lose thee.

MEN. The greatness of my troubles at Troy convinces me ;
thou dost not.

HEL. Ah, woe is me ! who was ever more unfortunate
than I? Those whom I love best are leaving me, nor
shall I ever reach Hellas, my own dear native land.

MES. (entering hurriedly) At last I find thee, Menelaus,
after an anxious search, not till I have wandered through
the length and breadth of this foreign strand ; I am sent
by thy comrades, whom thou didst leave behind.

MEN. What news ? surely you are not being spoiled by
the barbarians ?

MES. A miracle T hath happened ; my words are too weak
for the reality.

MEN. Speak ; for judging by this haste, thou hast stirring
news.

MES. My message is : thy countless toils have all been
toiled in vain.

MEN. That is an old tale of woe to mourn ! come, thy
news ?

MES. Thy wife hath disappeared, soaring away into the
embracing air; in heaven she now is hidden, and as she
left the hollowed cave where we were guarding her, she hailed
us thus, " Ye hapless Phrygians, and all Achsea's race ! for
me upon Seaman der's strand by Hera's arts ye died from
day to day, in the false belief that Helen was in the hands

1 Reading with Clark 9avfia(TT' tXaaaov rouro/z' fj TO Trpay/*' lxw> *••?•
" Miracle is all I can call it, but even that is too weak a word for the
reality."

HELEN. 341

of Paris. But I, since I have stayed my appointed time,
and kept the laws of fate, will now depart unto the sky that
gave me birth ; but the unhappy daughter of Tyndareus,
through no fault of hers, hath borne an evil name without
reason." (Catching sight of HELEN.) Daughter of Leda,
hail to thee, so thou art here after all ! I was just announ-
cing thy departure to the hidden starry realms, little knowing
that thou couldst fly at will. I will not a second time let
thee flout us thus, for thou didst cause thy lord and his
comrades trouble all for naught in Ilium.

MEN. This is even what she said ; her words are proved
true ; O longed-for day, how hath it restored thee to my
arms !

HEL. O Menelaus, dearest husband, the time of sorrow
has been long, but joy is now ours at last. Ah, friends, what
joy for me to hold my husband in a fond embrace after
many a weary cycle of yon blazing lamp of day !

MEN. What joy for me to hold my wife ! but with all the
questions I have to ask about the interval I know not with
which to begin now.

HEL. O rapture ! the very hair upon my head starts up
for joy ! my tears run down ! Around thy neck I fling my
arms, dear husband, to hug my joy to me.

MEN. O happy, happy sight ! I have no fault to find ;
my wife, the daughter of Zeus and Leda, is mine again, she
whom her brothers on their snow-white steeds, whilst
torches blazed, made my happy bride, but gods removed
her from my home. Now is the deity guiding us to a new
destiny, happier than of yore.

HEL. Evil into good transformed hath brought us twain
together at last, dear husband ; but late though it be, God
grant me joy of my good luck !

MEN. God grant thee joy ! I join thee in the self-same
prayer ; for of us twain one cannot suffer without the other.

HEL. No more, my friends, I mourn the past ; no longer

342 EURIPIDES. [L. 650-699

now I grieve. My own dear husband is restored to me,
whose coming from Troy I have waited many a long year.

MEN. I to thee, and thou to me. And after these long,
long years I have at last discovered the fraud l of the
goddess. But these tears, in gladness shed, are tears of
thankfulness rather than of sorrow.

HEL. What can I say ? What mortal heart could e'er have
had such hope ? To my bosom I press thee, little as I ever
thought to.

MEN. And I to mine press thee, who all men thought hadst
gone to Ida's town and the hapless towers of Ilium.

HEL. Ah me ! ah me ! that is a bitter subject to begin
on.

MEN. Tell me, I adjure thee, how wert thou from my
home conveyed ?

HEL. Alas ! alas ! 'tis a bitter tale thou askest to hear.

MEN. Speak, for I must hear it ; all that comes is
Heaven's gift.

HEL. I loathe the story I am now to introduce.

MEN. Tell it for all that. Tis sweet to hear of trouble
past.

HEL. I ne'er set forth to be the young barbarian's bride,
with oars and wings of lawless love to speed me on my
way.

MEN. What deity or fate tore thee from thy country,
then?

HEL. Ah, my lord ! 'twas Hermes, the son of Zeus, that
brought and placed me by the banks of Nile.

MEN. A miracle ! Who sent thee thither? O monstrous
story !

HEL. I wept, and still my eyes are wet with tears. 'Twas
the wife of Zeus that ruined me.

MEN. Hera ? * wherefore should she afflict us twain ?

1 i.e. the fraud of Hera in cheating me with a phantom-wife.

2 Hermann's emendation " Hpa ; ri itjjv is followed.

HELEN. 343

HEL. Woe is me for my awful fate ! Woe for those founts
and baths where the goddesses made brighter still that
beauty, which evoked the fatal verdict !

MEN. Why l did Hera visit thee with evil regarding this
verdict ?

HEL. To wrest the promise of Cypris —

MEN. How now ? Say on.

HEL. From Paris, to whom that goddess pledged me.

MEN. Woe for thee !

HEL. And so she brought me hither to Egypt to my
sorrow.

MEN. Then she gave him a phantom in thy stead, as thou
tellest me ?

HEL. And then began those woes of thine, ah, mother !
woe is me !

MEN. What meanest thou ?

HEL. My mother is no more ; my shameful marriage 2
made her fix the noose about her neck.

MEN. Ah me ! is our daughter Hermione yet alive?

HEL. Still unwed, and childless still, she mourns my
fatal marriage.3

MEN. O Paris, who didst utterly o'erthrow my home, here
was thy ruin too and theirs, those countless mail-clad
Danai.

HEL. From my country, city, and from thee heaven cast
me forth unhappy and accursed, because I left, — and yet
not I, — home and husband for a union of foul shame.

CHO. If haply ye find happiness in the future, it will
suffice when to the past ye look.

1 TO. tf «'c icpiaiv ri TU>V tf tOrix "Hpa KCIK&V. Hermann's emendation
is here followed, in preference to Dindorf's which stands in Paley's
text, and was originally due to Musgrave.

2 Paley reads Svoyap.ov alaxvixtv. Hermann plausibly suggested
iivq..

Dindorf's reading yaftov

344 EURIPIDES. [L. 70^-767

MES. Menelaus, grant me too a portion of that joy which,
though mine own eyes see, I scarcely comprehend.

MEN. Come then, old friend, and share with us our talk.

MES. Was it not then in her power to decide all the
trouble in Troy ?

MEN. It was not ; J was tricked by the gods into taking
to my arms a misty phantom-form, to my sorrow.

MES. How so ? was it then for this we vainly toiled ?

MEN. 'Twas Hera's handiwork, and the jealousy of three
goddesses.

MES. Is this real woman, then, thy wife ?

MEN. This is she ; trust my word for that.

MES. Daughter, how changeful and inscrutable is the
nature of God ! With some good end doth he vary
men's fortune — now up, now down ; one suffers ; another
who ne'er knew suffering, is in his turn to awful ruin
brought, having no assurance in his lot from day to day.
Thou and thy husband have had your share of trouble —
thou in what the world has said, he in battle's heat. For all
the striving that l he strove, he got him naught ; while now,
without an effort made, every blessing fortune boasts is his.
And thou, in spite of all, hast brought no shame upon thy
aged sire, or those twin sons of Zeus, nor art thou guilty of
those rumoured crimes. Now again do I recall thy wedding
rites, remembering the blazing torch I bore beside thee in a
four-horsed chariot at full gallop ; while thou with this thy
lord, a new-made bride, wert driving forth from thy happy
home. A sorry servant he, whoso regardeth not his master's
interest, sympathizing with his sorrows and his joys. Slave
though I was born, yet may I be numbered amongst honest
servants ; for in heart, though not in name, I am free. For
this is better far than in my single person to suffer these two
evils, to feel my heart corrupt, and as the slave of others to
be at my neighbour's beck and call.

1 Nauck's suggestion ov for or' seems a slight improvement.

HELEN. 345

MEN. Come, old friend, oft hast thou stood side by side
with me and taken thy full share of toil ; so now be partner
in my happiness. Go, tell my comrades, whom I left behind,
the state of matters here, as thou hast found them, and the
issue of my fortunes ; and bid them wait upon the beach
and abide the result of the struggle, which I trow awaits
me ; and if mayhap we find a way to take this lady from the
land by stealth, tell them to keep good watch that we may
share the luck and escape, if possible, from the barbarian's
clutch.

MES. It shall be done, O king. Now I see how worth-
less are the seers' tricks, how full of falsehood ; nor is there
after all aught trustworthy in the blaze of sacrifice or in the
cry of feathered fowls ; 'tis folly, the very notion that birds
can help mankind. Calchas never by word or sign showed
the host the truth, when he saw his friends dying on behalf
of a phantom, nor yet did Helenus ; but the city was stormed
in vain. Perhaps thou wilt say, 'twas not heaven's will that
they should do so. Then why do we employ these pro-
phets ? Better were it to sacrifice to the gods, and crave a
blessing, leaving prophecy alone ; for this was but devised as
a bait to catch a livelihood, and no man grows rich by
divination if he is idle. No ! sound judgment and discern-
ment are the best of seers. \Exit MESSENGER.

CHO. My views about seers coincide exactly with this old
man's : whoso hath the gods upon his side will have the
best seer in his house.

HEL. Good ! so far all is well. But how earnest thou,
poor husband, safe from Troy ? though 'tis no gain to know,
yet friends feel a longing to learn all that their friends have
suffered.

MEN. That one short sentence of thine contains a host of
questions. Why should I tell thee of our losses in the y£gean,
or of the beacon Nauplius l lighted on Eubcea ? or of my visits
. ' Nauplius, to avenge the death of his son, Palamedes, who was

EURIPIDES. [L. 768-809

to Crete and the cities of Libya, or of the peaks of Perseus? l
For I should never satisfy thee with the tale, and by telling
thee should add to my own pain, though I suffered enough
at the time ; and so would my grief be doubled.

HEL. Thy answer shows more wisdom than my question.
Omit the rest, and tell me only this ; how long wert thou a
weary wanderer o'er the wide sea's face ?

MEN. Seven long years did I see come and go, besides
those ten in Troy.

HEL. Alas, poor sufferer ! 'twas a weary while. And thou
hast thence escaped only to bleed here.

MEN. How so ? what wilt thou tell ? Ah wife, thou hast
ruined me.

HEL. [Escape and fly with all thy speed from this land.] 2
Thou wilt be slain by him whose house this is.

MEN. What have I done to merit such a fate ?

HEL. Thou hast arrived unexpectedly to thwart my mar-
riage.

MEN. What ! is some man bent on wedding my wife ?

HEL. Aye, and on heaping those insults on me, which
I have hitherto endured.

MEN. Is he some private potentate, or a ruler of this
land?

HEL. The son of Proteus, king of the country.

MEN. This was that dark saying I heard the servant tell.

HEL. At which of the barbarian's gates wert thou
standing ?

MEN. Here, whence like a beggar I was like to be
driven.

foully slain as a traitor by the machinations of Odysseus, lighted a false
beacon on Eubcea and lured the Greek fleet to destruction as it returned
from Troy.

1 The western boundary of the Delta of Egypt was so called.

2 This line is condemned by most editors as an interpolation from
Phcenissse 972.

HELEN. 347

HEL. Surely thou wert not begging victuals ? Ah, woe
is me !

MEN. That was what I was doing, though I had not the
name of beggar.

HEL. Of course thou knowest, then, all about my mar-
riage.

MEN. I do. But whether thou hast escaped thy lover, I
know not.

HEL. Be well assured I have kept my body chaste.

MEN. How wilt thou convince me of this ? If true, thy
words are sweet.

HEL. Dost see the wretched station I have kept at this
tomb?

MEN. I see, alas ! a bed of straw ; but what hast thou to
do with it ?

HEL. There I crave escape from this marriage as a sup-
pliant.

MEN. For want of an altar, or because it is the barbarians'
way?

HEL. This was as good a protection to me as the gods'
temples.

MEN. May I not then even bear thee homeward on my
ship?

HEL. The sword far sooner than thy wife's embrace is
waiting thee.

MEN. So should I be of all men the most miserable.

HEL. Put shame aside, and fly from this land.

MEN. Leaving thee behind ? 'twas for thy sake I sacked
Troy.

HEL. Better so, than that our union should cause thy
death.

MEN. Oh ! these are coward words, unworthy of those
days at Troy !

HEL. Thou canst not slay the prince, thy possible inten-
tion.

348 EURIPIDES. [L. 810-858

MEN. Hath he, then, a body which steel cannot wound ?

HEL. Thou shalt hear. But to attempt impossibilities is
no mark of wisdom.

MEN. Am I to let them bind my hands, and say
nothing ?

HEL. Thou art in a dilemma ; some scheme must be
devised.

MEN. I had liefer die in action than sitting still.

HEL. There is one hope, and only one, of our safety.

MEN. Will gold, or daring deeds, or winning words pro-
cure it?

HEI . We are safe if the prince learn not of thy coming.

MEN. Will any one tell him it is I ? He certainly will
not know who I am.

HEL. He hath within his palace an ally equal to the
gods.

MEN. Some voice divine within the secret chambers of
his house?

HEL. No ; his sister ; Theonoe men call her.

MEN. Her name hath a prophetic sound ; tell me what
she doth.

HEL. She knoweth everything, and she will tell her brother
thou art come.

MEN. Then must we die ; for I cannot escape her ken.

HEL. Perchance we might by suppliant prayers win her
over.

MEN. To what end ? To what vain hope art thou leading
me ?

HEL. That she should not tell her brother thou art
here.

MEN. Suppose we persuade her, can we get away ?

HEL. Easily, if she connive thereat ; without her know-
ledge, no.

MEN. Be that thy task ; women deal best with women.

HEL. I will not fail, be sure, to clasp her knees.

HELEN. 349

MEN. Come, then; only, suppose she reject our pro-
posals?

HEL. Thou wilt be slain, and I, alas ! wedded by force.

MEN.1 Thou wilt betray me; that "force" of thine is
all an excuse.

HEL. Nay, by thy life I swear a sacred oath.

MEN. What meanest thou ? dost swear to die and never
to another husband yield ?

HEL. Yes, by the self-same sword; I will fall by thy
side.

MEN. On these conditions touch my right hand.

HEL. I do so, swearing I will quit the light of day if thou
art slain.

MEN. I, too, will end my life if I lose thee.

HEL. How shall we die so as to insure our reputation
for this ?

MEN. I will slay thee and then myself upon the summit
of the tomb. But first will I in doughty fight contest
another's claim to thee ; and let who will draw nigh ! for I
will not sully the lustre of my Trojan fame, nor will I, on
my return to Hellas, incur a storm of taunts, as one who
robbed Thetis of Achilles ; saw Aias, son of Telamon, fall a
weltering corpse ; and the son of Neleus of his child bereft ;
shall I then flinch myself from death for my own wife ? No,
no ! For if the gods are wise, o'er a brave man by his foes
laid low they lightly sprinkle the earth that is his tomb,
while cowards they cast forth on barren rocky soil.

CHO. Grant, heaven, that the race of Tantalus may at
last be blest, and pass from sorrow unto joy !

HEL. Ah, woe is me ! Yea, all my lot is woe ; O
Menelaus, we are utterly undone ! Behold ! from forth the

1 Hermann has an ingenious but unnecessary correction of this line,
irpoSorng av tir)v, <rv de fliav ffKrjtl/aa' *xoi£, i.e. I should then prove
myself a traitor to thee, while thou couldst allege compulsion. Cf.
Paley's note.

350 EURIPIDES. [L. 859-924

house comes Theonoe, the prophetess. The palace echoes
as the bolts are unfastened ; fly ! yet what use to fly ? For
whether absent or present she knows of thy arrival here.
Ah me ! how lost am I ! Saved from Troy and from a
barbarian land, thou hast come only to fall a prey to bar-
barian swords.

THE. Lead on, bearing before me blazing brands, and, as
sacred rites ordain, purge l with incense every cranny of the
air, that I may breathe heaven's breath free from taint ; mean-
while do thou, in case the tread of unclean feet have soiled
the path, wave the cleansing flame above it, and brandish the
torch in front, that I may pass upon my way. And 2 when
to heaven ye have paid the customs I exact, bear back into
the house the brand from off the hearth. What of my
prophecy, Helen? how stands it now? Thou hast seen
thy husband Menelaus arrive without disguise, reft of his
ships, and of thy counterfeit. Ah, hapless man ! what
troubles hast thou escaped, and art come hither, and yet
knowest not whether thou art to return or to abide here ;
for there is strife in heaven, and Zeus this very day will sit
in solemn conclave on thee. Hera, who erst was thy bitter
foe, is now grown kind, and is willing to bring thee and thy
wife safe home, that Hellas may learn that the marriage of
Paris was all a sham, assigned to him by Cypris ; but Cypris
fain would mar thy homeward course, that she may not be
convicted, or proved to have bought the palm of beauty at
the price of Helen in a futile 3 marriage. Now the decision
rests with me, whether to ruin thee, as Cypris wishes, by
telling my brother of thy presence here, or to save thy life
by taking Hera's side, keeping my brother in the dark, for his
orders are that I should tell him, whensoe'er thou should st

1 The reading now followed by most editors is Hermann's, Oeiov te

- This line, though at present unemended, is probably corrupt.
8 Pierson's avovi]roiQ for MS. W

HELEN. 351

reach these shores. Ho ! one of you, go show my brother
this man is here, that I may secure my position.

HEL. Maiden, at thy knees I fall a suppliant, and seat
myself in this sad posture on behalf of myself and him, whom
I am in danger of seeing slain, after I have so hardly found
him. Oh ! tell not thy brother that my husband is returned
to these loving arms ; save us, I beseech thee ; never for
thy brother's sake sacrifice thy character for uprightness, by
evil and unjust means bidding for his favour. [For the
deity hates violence, and biddeth all men get lawful gains
without plundering others. Wealth unjustly gotten, though
it bring some power, is to be eschewed. The breath of
heaven and the earth are man's common heritage, wherein
to store his home, without taking the goods of others, or
wresting them away by force.1 ] Me did Hermes at a critical
time,2 to my sorrow, intrust to thy father's safe keeping for
this my lord, who now is here and wishes to reclaim me.
But 3 how can he recover me if he be slain ? How could
thy sire restore the living to the dead ? Oh ! consider ere that
the will of heaven and thy father's too ; would the deity or
would thy dead sire restore their neighbour's goods, or would
they forbear ? restore them, I feel sure. It is not, therefore,
right that thou shouldst attach more importance to thy wan-
ton brother than to thy righteous father. Yet if thou,
prophetess as thou art and believer in divine providence,
shalt pervert the just intention of thy father and gratify thy
unrighteous brother, 'tis shameful thou shouldst have full
knowledge of the heavenly will, both what is and what is
not,4 and yet be ignorant of justice. Oh ! save my wretched

1 Dindorf condemns lines 903-908 ; Paley would retain them with the
exception of 905, which he regards as an interpolation.

2 KcupiuiG- So Badham for MS. fiaKapiwQ.

3 Nauck regards lines 912, 913, as suspicious.

4 Clark's conjecture, TO. T QVTO. icai /wXXoj/ra, TO. Si diicaia p] is
extremely plausible.

352 EURIPIDES. [L. 925-995

life from the troubles which beset it, granting this as an
accession to our good fortune ; for every living soul loathes
Helen, seeing that there is gone a rumour throughout Hellas
that I was false unto my lord, and took up my abode in
Phrygia's sumptuous halls. Now, if I come to Hellas, and
set foot once more in Sparta, they will hear and see how they
were ruined by the wiles of goddesses, while I was no traitress
to my friends after all ; and so will they restore to me my
virtuous name again, and I shall give l my daughter in
marriage, whom no man now will wed ; and, leaving this
vagrant life in Egypt, shall enjoy the treasures in my home.
Had Menelaus met his doom at some funeral pyre,2
with tears should I be cherishing his memory in a far-off
land, but must I lose him now when he is alive and safe ?
Ah ! maiden, I beseech thee, say not so ; grant me this boon,
I pray, and reflect thy father's justice ; for this is the fairest
ornament of children, when the child of a virtuous sire re-
sembles its parents in character.

CHO. Piteous thy pleading, and a piteous object thou !
But I fain would hear what Menelaus will say to save his
life.

MEN. I will not deign to throw myself at thy knees, or
wet mine eyes with tears ; for were I to play the coward,
I should most foully blur my Trojan fame. And yet men
say it shows a noble soul to let the tear-drop fall in mis-
fortune. But that will not be the honourable course that 1 3
will choose in preference to bravery, if what I shall say is
honourable. Art thou disposed to save a stranger seeking in
mere justice to recover his wife, why then restore her and save
us to boot ; if not. this will not be the first by many a time that

1 iSt'OHjo/jai, Hermann.

2 i.e. slain as a prisoner of war to grace some hero's funeral obsequies.
Hermann ingeniously offered iv ir'tpq. "on the opposite shore " for
Tri'pdr, but the change seems scarcely required,

3 Readin Person's aiprJTo/mt 'yw.

HELEN. 353

I have suffered, though thou wilt get an evil name. All that
I deem worthy of me and honest, all that will touch thy heart
most nearly, will I utter at the tomb of thy sire with regret '
for his loss. Old king beneath this tomb of stone reposing,
pay back thy trust ! I ask of thee my wife whom Zeus sent
hither unto thee to keep for me. I know thou canst never
restore her to me thyself, for thou art dead ; but this thy
daughter will never allow her father once so glorious, whom
I invoke in his grave, to bear a tarnished name ; for the
decision rests with her now. Thee, too, great god of death,
I call to my assistance, who hast received full many a corpse,
slain by me for Helen, and art keeping thy wage ; either
restore those dead now to life again, or compel the daughter
to show herself a worthy equal 2 of her virtuous sire, and give
me back my wife. But if ye will rob me of her, I will tell
you that which she omitted in her speech. Know then,
maiden, I by an oath am bound, first, to meet thy brother
sword to sword, when he or I must die ; there is no alterna-
tive. But if he refuse to meet me fairly front to front, and
seek by famine to chase away us suppliants twain at this
tomb, I am resolved to slay Helen, and then to plunge this
two-edged sword through my own heart, upon the top of the
sepulchre, that our streaming blood may trickle down the
tomb ; and our two corpses will be lying side by side upon
this polished slab, a source of deathless grief to thee, and
to thy sire reproach. Never shall thy brother wed Helen,
nor shall any other ; I will bear her hence myself, if not to
my house, at any rate to death. And why this stern resolve?
Were I to resort to women's ways and weep, I should be a
pitiful creature, not a man of action. Slay me, if it seems
thee good ; I will not die ingloriously ; but better yi-eld to
what I say, that thou mayst act with justice, and I recover
my wife.

1 Nauck proposes -rrtawv for MS. iroQy.

a Hermann's emendation p) ev<T£/3of>£ 7rarpo£ »yir<ra> is here followed.
A A

354 EURIPIDES. [L. 996-1056

CHO. On thee, maiden, it rests to judge between these
arguments. Decide in such a way as to please one and all.

THE. My nature and my inclination lean towards piety ;
myself, too, I respect, and I will never sully my father's fair
name, or gratify my brother at the cost of bringing myself
into open discredit. For justice hath her temple firmly
founded in my nature, and since I have this heritage from
Nereus I will strive to save Menelaiis ; wherefore, seeing it
is Hera's will to stand thy friend, I will give my vote with
her. May Cypris be favourable to me ! though in me she
hath no part, and1 I will try to remain a maid alway.
As for thy reproaches against my father at this tomb ; lo ! I
have the same words to utter; I should be wronging thee,
did I not restore thy wife; for my sire, were he living,
would have given her back into thy keeping, and thee to
her. [Yea, for there is recompense for these things as well
amongst the dead as amongst all those who breathe the breath
of life. The soul indeed of the dead lives no more, yet hath
it a consciousness that lasts for ever, eternal as the ether
into which it takes the final plunge.2] Briefly then to end the
matter, I will observe strict silence on all that ye prayed I
should, and never with my counsel will I aid my brother's
wanton will. For I am doing him good service, though he
little thinks it, if I turn him from his godless life to holiness.
Wherefore devise 3 yourselves some way of escape ; my lips
are sealed ; I will not cross your path. First with the
goddesses begin, and of the one,— and that one Cypris,— crave
permission to return unto thy country ; and of Hera, that her
goodwill may abide in the same quarter, even her scheme
to save thee and thy husband. And thou, my own dead
sire, shalt never, in so far as rests with me, lose thy holy name
to rank with evil-doers. [Exit THEONOE.

1 Badham rejects this line.

2 Lines 1013-1016 are condemned by Dindorf.

3 Hermann's correction ivpiaKir t^ocov riva.

HELEN. 355

CHO. No man ever prospered by unjust practices, but in
a righteous cause there is hope of safety.

HEL. Menelaus, on the maiden's side are we quite safe.
Thou must from that point start, and by contributing thy
advice, devise with me a scheme to save ourselves.

MEN. Hearken then ; thou hast been a long while in
the palace, and art intimate with the king's attendants.

HEL. What dost thou mean thereby? for thou art sug-
gesting hopes, as if resolved on some plan for our mutual
help.

MEN. Couldst thou persuade one of those who have
charge of cars and steeds to furnish us with a chariot ?

HEL. I might ; but what escape is there for us who know
nothing of the country and the barbarian's kingdom ?

MEN. True; a dilemma. Well, supposing I conceal
myself in the palace and slay the king with this two-edged
sword ?

HEL. His sister would never refrain from telling her
brother that thou wert meditating his death.

MEN. We have not so much as a ship to make our
escape in ; for the sea hath swallowed the one we had.

HEL. Hear me, if haply even a woman can utter words
of wisdom. Dost thou consent to be dead in word, though
not really so ?

MEN. 'Tis a bad omen ; still, if by saying so I shall gain
aught, I am ready to be dead in word, though not in
deed.

HEL. I, too, will mourn thee with hair cut short and
dirges, as is women's way, before this impious wretch.

MEN. What saving remedy doth this afford us twain?
There is a flavour of deception -1 in thy scheme.

1 Reading Hermann's correction airaioXrj for MS. TraXawTrjc, which
may perhaps mean "there is a certain staleness about that suggestion."
Nauck retains the old reading, and in spite of Paley's high praise of the
correction it does not seem wholly necessary to the context.

356 EURIPIDES. [L. 1057-1119

HEL. I will beg the king of this country leave to bury
thee in a cenotaph, as if thou hadst really died at sea.

MEN. Suppose he grant it ; how, e'en then, are we to
escape without a ship, after having committed me to my
empty tomb ?

HEL. I will bid him give me a vessel, from which to let
drop into the sea's embrace thy funeral offerings.

MEN. A clever plan in truth, save in one particular ;
suppose he bid thee rear the tomb upon the strand, thy
pretext comes to naught.

HEL. But I shall say it is not the custom in Hellas to
bury those who die at sea upon the shore.

MEN. Thou removest this obstacle too ; I then will sail
with thee and help stow the funeral garniture in the same ship.

HEL. Above all, it is necessary that thou and all thy
sailors who escaped from the wreck should be at hand.

MEN. Be sure if once I find a ship at her moorings, they
shall be there man for man, each with his sword.

HEL. Thou must direct everything; only let there be
winds to waft our sails and a good ship to speed before
them !

MEN. So shall it be; for the deities will cause my troubles
to cease. But from whom wilt thou say thou hadst tidings
of my death ?

HEL. From thee ; declare thyself the one and only sur-
vivor, telling how thou wert sailing with the son of Atreus,
and didst see him perish.

MEN. Of a truth the garments I have thrown about me,
will bear out my tale that they were rags collected from the
wreckage.

HEL. They come in most opportunely, but they were
near being lost just at the wrong time. Maybe that mis-
fortune will turn to fortune.

MEN. Am I to enter the palace with thee, or are we to sit
here at the tomb quietly ?

HELEN. 357

HEL. Abide here; for if the king attempts to do thee
any mischief, this tomb and thy good sword will protect
thee. But I will go within and cut off my hair, and ex-
change my white robe for sable weeds, and rend my cheek
with this hand's l blood-thirsty nail. For 'tis a mighty
struggle, and I see two possible issues ; either I must
die if detected in my plot, or else to my country shall I
come and save thy soul alive. O Hera ! awful queen, who
sharest the couch of Zeus, grant some respite from their
toil to two unhappy wretches ; to thee I pray, tossing my
arms upward to heaven, where thou hast thy home in the
star-spangled firmament. Thou, too, that didst win the
prize of beauty at the price of my marriage ; O Cypris !
daughter of Dione, destroy me not utterly. Thou hast in-
jured me enough aforetime, delivering2 up my name, though
not my person, to live amongst barbarians. Oh ! suffer me to
die, if death is thy desire, in my native land. Why art thou
so insatiate in mischief, employing every art of love, of
fraud, and guileful schemes, and spells that bring bloodshed
on families ? Wert thou but moderate, only that ! — in all
else thou art by nature man's most welcome deity ; and I
have reason to say so. [Exeunt HELEN and MENELAUS.

CHO. Thee let me invoke, tearful Philomel, lurking
;neath the leafy covert in thy place of song, most tuneful of
all feathered songsters, oh ! come to aid me in my dirge,
trilling through thy tawny throat, as I sing the piteous woes
of Helen, and the tearful fate of Trojan dames made sub-
ject to Achsea's spear, on the day that there came to their
plains one who sped with foreign oar across the dashing
billows, bringing to Priam's race from Lacedaemon ihee his

1 Adopting the emendation of Jacobs, x*P"£ f°r XP°°£»
mentioned with approval by Paley. If xpobc is retained, the only
possible meaning is "which draws blood from the skin ; " (Hermann)
a doubtful rendering.

2 Line lioo is rejected by Nanck.

358 EURIPIDES. [L. 1120-1185

hapless bride, O Helen,1 — even Paris, luckless bridegroom,
by the guidance of Aphrodite. And many an Achaean hath
breathed his last amid the spearmen's thrusts and hurtling hail
of stones, and gone to his sad end ; for these their wives cut oft"
their hair in sorrow, and their houses are left without a
bride ; and one 2 of the Achaeans, that had but a single ship,
did light a blazing beacon on sea-girt Euboea, and destroy
full many of them, wrecking them on the rocks of Caphareus
and the shores that front the ^Egean main, by the treacherous
gleam he kindled ; when 3 thou, O Menelaus, from the very
day of thy start, didst drift to harbourless hills, far from thy
country before the breath of the storm, bearing on thy ship
a prize4 that was no prize, but a phantom made by Hera out
of cloud for the Danai to struggle over. What5 mortal
claims, by searching to the utmost limit, to have found out
the nature of God, or of his opposite, or of that which comes
between, seeing as he doth this world of man 6 tossed to and
fro by waves of contradiction and strange vicissitudes ?
Thou, Helen, art the daughter of Zeus ; for thy sire was the
bird that nestled in Leda's bosom ; and yet for all that art
thou become a by-word7 for wickedness, through the length
and breadth of Hellas, as faithless, treacherous wife and
godless woman ; nor can I tell what certainty is, whatever

1 Seidler's & 'EXtra for we tlXe.

a />. Nauplius in revenge for his son Palamedes's death, cf.
1. 767-

3 The corruption here is beyond all reasonable hope of emendation ;
Clark's attempt has been followed, aXifiei'a d' opta <rvy McwAa', a0' ov
•ardXrjg, bV tvvoo. This is only one of numerous suggestions for the
MS. words fitXfa fiapflapov ffroXag, or t<rvTO, which are, as they stand,
quite unintelligible.

4 Badham's emendation of yepac in each case for r«/oac.

5 Matthiae's correction n't Qijaiv — evpelv.

6 Paley proposes to read ra #1171-', Hartung TO. /3/coru>»> for MS. TO.
Otuij'.

7 Hermann's K$T' laxnOtjc, for KOI i«x>) ff'/.

HELEN. 359

may pass for it amongst men. That which gods pronounce
have I found true. O fools ! all ye who try to win the meed
of valour through war and serried ranks of chivalry, seeking
thus to still this mortal coil, in senselessness;1 for if bloody
contests are to decide, there will never be any lack of strife
in the towns of men; the maidens2 of the land of Priam left
their bridal bowers, though arbitration might have put thy
quarrel right, O Helen. And now Troy's sons are in
Hades' keeping in the world below, and fire hath darted on
her walls, as darts the flame of Zeus, and thou art bringing
woe on woe to hapless sufferers in their misery.3

THE. All hail, my father's tomb ! I buried thee, Proteus,
at the place where men pass out, that I might often greet
thee ; and so, ever as I go out and in, I, thy son Theo-
clymenus, call on thee, father. Ho ! servants, to the palace
take my hounds and hunting nets ! How often have I
blamed myself for never punishing those miscreants with
death ! I have just heard that a son of Hellas has come
openly to my land, escaping the notice of the guard, a spy
maybe or a would-be thief of Helen ; death shall be his lot
if only I can catch him. Ha ! I find all my plans apparently
frustrated ; the daughter of Tyndareus has deserted her seat
at the tomb and sailed away from my shores. Ho ! there,
undo the bars, loose the horses from their stalls, bring forth
my chariot, servants, that the wife, on whom my heart is
set, may not get away from these shores unseen, for want of
any trouble I can take. Yet stay ; for I see the object of
my pursuit is still in the palace, and has not fled. How

uis, Musgrave.

This line is corrupt, and no satisfactory emendation is offered. If
m (sc. ywaiKtc) is read, it is possible to extract some meaning with
small change of MS. reading. Hartung proposes icai Upiapdat,
Dindorf $ Tlpiapidai.

3 This line is also corrupt, and possibly an interpolation, mXiVotg, the
yariant for 'iX/otr is here followed, for which Nauck proposed iXa» oTf.

360 EURIPIDES. [L. 1186-1225

now, lady, why hast thou arrayed thee in sable weeds in-
stead of white raiment, and from thy fair head hast shorn
thy tresses with the steel, bedewing thy cheeks the while
with tears but lately shed? Is it in response to visions of
the night that thou art mourning, or, because thou hast
heard some warning voice within, art thus distraught with
grief?

HEL. My lord, — for already I have learnt to say that
name, — I am undone ; my luck is gone ; I cease to be.

THE. In what misfortune art thou plunged? What hath
happened ?

HEL. Menelaus, ah me ! how can I say it ? is dead, my
husband.

THE. [I show no exultation in this news, yet am I blest
herein.] x

HEL. * * * *

THE. How knowest thou ? Did Theonoe tell thee this?

HEL. Both she, and one who was there when he perished.

THE. What ! hath one arrived who actually announces
this for certain?

HEL. One hath ; oh may he come e'en as I wish him to !

THE. Who and where is he? that I may learn this more
surely.

HEL. There he is, sitting crouched beneath the shelter of
this tomb.

THE. Great Apollo ! what a bundle of unsightly rags !

HEL. Ah me ! methinks my own husband too is in like
plight.

THE. From what country is this fellow ? whence landed
he here ?

HEL. From Hellas, one of the Achasans who sailed with
my husband.

THE. What kind of death doth he declare that Menelaus
died?

1 Hartung rejects this line.

HELEN. 361

HEL. The most piteous of all ; amid the watery waves at
sea.

THE. On what part of the savage ocean was he sailing ?

HEL. Cast up on the harhourless rocks of Libya.

THE. How was it this man did not perish if he was with
him aboard ?

HEL. There are times when churls have more luck than
their betters.

THE. Where left he the wreck, on coming hither ?

HEL. There, where perdition catch it, but not Menelaus !

THE. He is lost ; but on what vessel came this man?

HEL. According to his story sailors fell in with him and
picked him up.

THE. Where then is that mischievous thing that was
sent to Troy in thy stead ?

HEL. Dost mean the phantom-form of cloud ? It hath
passed into the air.

THE. O Priam, and thou land of Troy, how fruitless thy
ruin !

HEL. I too have shared with Priam's race their mis-
fortunes.

THE. Did this fellow leave thy husband unburied, or
consign him to the grave ?

HEL. Unburied ; woe is me for my sad lot !

THE. Wherefore hast thou shorn the tresses of thy golden
hair?

HEL. His memory lingers fondly in this heart,1 whate'er
his fate.

1 Heath very ingeniously suggests that at the words ivQa.81 wv Helen
lays her hand upon her heart. Admitting this as possible, and reading
Seidler's ov TTOT' iariv or OQ iror' iffriv, a more intelligible meaning is
obtained than by adopting Hermann's w£7r*p toriv and giving a double
meaning to IrOadt (i) as Theoclymenus would understand it "in that
other world," (2) as Helen really means "hereby the tomb." Probably
the line is corrupt. Nauck suggests w£ TTOT' ivQc.& utv

362 EURIPIDES. [L. 1226-1264

THE. Are thy tears in genuine sorrow for this calamity ?

HEL. An easy task no doubt to escape l thy sister's de-
tection !

THE. No, surely ; impossible. Wilt thou still make this
tomb thy abode ?

HEL. Why jeer at me? canst thou not let the dead man
be?

THE. No, thy loyalty 2 to thy husband's memory makes
thee fly from me.

HEL. I will do so no more; prepare at once for my
marriage.

THE. Thou hast been long in bringing thyself to it ; still
I do commend thee now.

HEL. Dost know thy part ? Let us forget the past.

THE. On what terms ? One good turn deserves another.

HEL. Let us make peace ; be reconciled to me.

THE. I relinquish my quarrel with thee ; let it take
wings and fly away.

HEL. Then by thy knees, since thou art my friend
indeed, —

THE. What art so bent on winning, that to me thou
stretchest out a suppliant hand ?

HEL. My dead husband would I fain bury.

THE. What tomb can be bestowed on lost bodies ? Wilt
thou bury a shade ?

HEL. In Hellas we have a custom, whene'er one is
drowned at sea —

THE. What is your custom? The race of Pelops truly
hath some skill in matters such as this.

HEL. To hold a burial with woven robes that wrap no
corpse.

1 Reading Hermann's \a9elv, the line being strongly ironical. If
Bavtlv is retained, the meaning would be " no doubt thou wouldst bear
thy sister's death lightly ! "

a Paley's correction man} yap ovoa . . . favyug tpf.

HELEN. 363

THE. Perform the ceremony ; rear the tomb where'er
thou wilt.

HEL. 'Tis not thus we give drowned sailors burial.

THE. How then? I know nothing of your customs in
Hellas.

HEL. We unmoor, and carry out to sea all that is the
dead man's due.

THE. What am I to give thee then for thy dead hus-
band?

HEL. Myself I cannot say ; l I had no such experience
in my previous happy life.

THE. Stranger, thou art the bearer of tidings I welcome.

MEN. Well, I do not, nor yet doth the dead man.

THE. How do ye bury those who have been drowned at
sea ?

MEN. Each according to his means.

THE. 'As far as wealth goes, name thy wishes for this
lady's sake.

MEN. There must be a blood- offering first to the dead.

THE. Blood of what? Do thou show me and I will
comply.

MEN. Decide that thyself; whatever thou givest will
suffice.

THE. Amongst barbarians 'tis customary to sacrifice a
horse or bull.

MEN. If thou givest at all, let there be nothing mean in
thy gift.

THE. I have no lack of such in my rich herds.

MEN. Next an empty bier is decked and carried in pro-
cession.

THE. It shall be so ; what else is it customary to add ?

MEN. Bronze arms ; for war was his delight.

THE. These will be worthy of the race of Pelops, and
these will we give.

1 Hermann's correction OVK o7#' tywy', a-xeipog K.r.X.

364 EURIPIDES. [L. 1265-1325

MEN. And with them all the fair increase of productive
earth.

THE. And next, how do ye pour these offerings into the
1) llows?

MEN. There must be a ship ready and rowers.

THE. How far from the shore does the ship put out ?

MEN. So far that the foam in her wake can scarce be
seen from the strand.

THE. Why so ? l wherefore doth Hellas observe this
custom ?

MEN. That the billow may not cast up again our ex-
piatory offerings.

THE. Phoenician rowers will soon cover the distance.

MEN. 'Twill be well done, and gratifying to Menelaus, too.

THE. Canst thou not perform these rites well enough
without Helen?

MEN. This task belongs to mother, wife, or children.

THE. 'Tis her task then, according to thee, to bury her
husband.

MEN. To be sure ; piety demands that the dead be not
robbed of their due.

THE. Well, let her go ; 'tis my interest to foster piety
in a wife. And thou, enter the house and choose adorn-
ment for the dead. Thyself, too, will I not send empty-
handed away, since thou hast done her a service. And
for the good news thou hast brought me, thou shalt receive
raiment instead of going bare, and food, too, that thou
mayst reach thy country ; for as it is, I see thou art in
sorry plight. As for thee, poor lady, waste not thyself2 in a
hopeless case ; Menelaus has met his doom, and thy dead
husband cannot come to life.

1 The note of interrogation is due to Schafer.

2 Nauck, with some old editions, gives rpv\ov <rv ffavri'iv, but Her-
mann and others, following the Florence MS., read rpv\ovaa

and suppose a lacuna after 1. 1285. The sense, however, is clear.

HELEN. 365

MEN. This then is thy duty, fair young wife ; be content
with thy present husband, and forget him who has no exis-
tence ; for this is thy best course in face of what is happen-
ing. And if ever I come to Hellas and secure my safety,
I will clear thee of thy former ill-repute, if thou prove a
dutiful wife to thy true husband.

HEL. I will ; never shall my husband have cause to blame
me ; thou shalt thyself attend us and be witness thereto.
Now go within, poor wanderer, and seek the bath, and
change thy raiment. I will show my kindness to thee, and
that without delay. For thou wilt perform all service due
with kindlier feeling for my dear lord Menelaus, if at my
hands thou meet with thy deserts.

{Exeunt THEOCLYMENUS, HELEN, MENELAUS.

CHO. Through wooded glen, o'er torrent's flood, and
ocean's booming waves rushed the mountain-goddess, mother
of the gods, in frantic haste, once long ago, yearning for her
daughter lost, whose name men dare not utter; loudly
rattled the Bacchic castanets in shrill accord, what time
those maidens, swift as whirlwinds, sped forth with the
goddess x on her chariot yoked to wild creatures, in quest of
her that was ravished from the circling choir of virgins ;
here was Artemis with her bow, and there the grim-eyed 2
goddess, sheathed in mail, and spear in hand. . . .3 But Zeus
looked down from his throne in heaven, and turned the
issue otherwhither. Soon as the mother ceased from her
wild wandering toil, in seeking1 her daughter stolen so
subtly as to baffle all pursuit, she crossed the snow-capped
heights of Ida's nymphs ; and in anguish cast her down

1 Hermann's correction £6i»£a<r£ Qey aarivaq.

2 Hermann's r<,/oya>7ra.

3 To complete the sense, Hermann and Dindorf give a conjectural
line containing a finite verb, thus TrpovfapnuvTO' Zcug 8' kdpdvuv, omitting
if after

4 naTivova cnropovz, Hermann.

EURIPIDES. [L. 1326-1395

amongst the rocks and brushwood deep in snow ; and, deny-
ing to man all increase to his tillage from those barren fields,
she wasted the human race ; nor would, she let the leafy ten-
drils yield luxuriant fodder for the cattle, wherefore many l a
beast lay dying ; no sacrifice was offered to the gods, and
on the altars were no cakes to burn ; yea, and she made
the dew-fed founts of crystal water to cease their flow, in her
insatiate sorrow for her child. But when for gods and
tribes of men alike she made an end to festal cheer, Zeus
spoke out, seeking to sooth the mother's moody soul, " Ye
stately Graces, go banish from Demeter's angry heart the
grief her wanderings 2 bring upon her for her child, and go,
ye Muses too, with tuneful choir." Thereon did Cypris,
fairest of the blessed gods, first catch up the crashing
cymbals, native to that land, and the drum with tight-
stretched skin, and then Demeter smiled, and in her hand
did take the deep-toned flute, well pleased with its loud note.
Thou hast wedded as thou never shouldst have done 3
in defiance of all right, and thou hast incurred, my daughter,
the wrath of the great mother by disregarding her sacrifices.
Oh ! mighty is the virtue in a dress of dappled fawn-skin,
in ivy green that twineth round a sacred thyrsus, in
whirling tambourines struck as they revolve in air, in tresses
wildly streaming for the revelry of Bromius, and likewise
in the sleepless vigils of the goddess, when l the moon looks

1 Reading iroXtaiv (Hermann) though Nauck has 7ro\ewv = cities.

2 a\dv, so Bothe for MS. aXoAp.

8 The translation follows Paley's conjecture ttcvpaaq for iirupwvac ;
this requires perhaps the least change in a very difficult and probably
corrupt passage. The various emendations are discussed at length in
Paley's larger edition. The allusion seems to be to Helen's guilty
passion for Paris, which is an insult to the majesty of Cybele.

4 Reading Hermann's conjecture fure viv ofipatnv l/3o\f atXciva which
is adopted in Paley's text as the most satisfactory emendation of this
very corrupt passage. The last line of this choral ode is generally
regarded as a clumsy interpolation.

HELEN. 367

down and sheds her radiance o'er the scene. [Thou \vcrt
confident in thy charms alone.]

KEL. My friends, within the palace all goes well for us ;
for the daughter of Proteus, who is privy to our stealthy
scheme, told her brother nothing when questioned as to my
husband's coming, but for my sake declared him dead
and buried. Most l fortunate it is my lord hath had the
luck to get these weapons ; for he is now himself clad in the
harness he was to plunge into the sea, his stalwart arm
thrust through the buckler's strap, and in his right hand a
spear, on pretence of joining in homage to the dead. He hath
girded himself most serviceably for the fray, as if to triumph
o'er a host of barbarian foes when once we are aboard yon
oared ship; instead2 of his rags from the wreck hath he
donned the robes I gave for his attire, and I have bathed
his limbs in water from the stream, a bath he long hath
wanted. But I must be silent, for from the house comes
forth the man who thinks he has me in his power, prepared
to be his bride ; and thy goodwill I also claim and thy strict
silence, if haply, when we save ourselves, we may save thee
too some day.

THE. Advance in order, servants, as the stranger hath
directed, bearing the funeral gifts the sea demands. But
thou, Helen, if thou wilt not misconstrue my words, be per-
suaded and here abide ; for thou wilt do thy husband equal
service whether thou art present or not. For I am afraid
that some sudden shock of fond regret may prompt thee to

1 This line is corrupt, and may, as Hermann suggests, be made up of
parts of two. Nauck's reading is here followed, Ka\\«rra Si} raS' ijpwaa'
iv Ti'xy iroaiQ.

* To avoid the awkwardness involved in the somewhat doubtful
Greek irtirXovQ ayuei^af • • • #y<*> vivt Pierson ingeniously proposes
7r«7rAou£ S' a/iea/xao-' . . . tyw nv, to which however Paley objects that
afiti^nv cannot be used of one who effects a change upon another, while
Hermann somewhat hypercritically remarks that by this change the
several actions described take an unnatural order.

368 EURIPIDES. [L. 1396-1452

plunge into the swollen tide, in an ecstasy of gratitude toward
thy former husband ; for thy grief for him, though he is lost,
is running to excess.

HEL. O my new1 lord, needs must I honour him
with whom I first shared married joys ; for I could
even die with my husband, so well I loved him ; yet how
could he thank me, were I to share death's doom with
him ? Still, let me go and pay his funeral rites unto the dead
in person. The gods grant thee the boon I wish and this
stranger too, for the assistance he is lending here ! And
thou shalt find in me a wife fit to share thy house, since thou
art rendering kindness to Menelaus and to me ; for surely these
events are to some good fortune tending. But now appoint
someone to give us a ship wherein to convey these gifts,
that I may find thy kindness made complete.

THE. (to an attendant.} Go thou, and furnish them with
a Sidonian galley of fifty oars and rowers also.

HEL. Shall not he command the ship who is ordering the
funeral ?

THE. Most certainly; my sailors are to obey him.

HEL. Repeat the order, that they may clearly understand
thee.

THE. I repeat it, and will do so yet again if that is thy
pleasure.

HEL. Good luck to thee and to me in my designs !

THE. Oh ! waste not thy fair complexion with excessive
weeping.

HEL. This day shall show my gratitude to thee.

THE. The state of the dead is nothingness ; to toil for
them is vain.

HEL. In what I say, this world, as well as that, hath share.

THE. Thou shalt not find in me a husband at all inferior
to Menelaus.

1 Elmsley's correction

HELEN. 369

HEL. With thee have I no fault to find ; good luck is all I
need.1

THE. That rests with thyself, if thou show thyself a
loving wife to me.

HEL. This is not a lesson I shall have to learn now, to
love my friends.

THE. Is it thy wish that I should escort thee in person
with active aid ?

HEL. God forbid ! become not thy servant's servant, O
king !

THE. Up and away ! I am not concerned with customs
which the race of Pelops holds. My house is pure, for
Menelaus did not die here ; go some one now and bid my
vassal chiefs bring marriage-offerings to my palace ; for the
whole earth must re-echo in glad accord the hymn of
my wedding with Helen, to make men envious. Go,
stranger, and pour into the sea's embrace these offerings to
Helen's former lord, and then speed back again with my
bride, that after sharing with me her marriage-feast thou
mayst set out for home, or here abide in happiness.

[Exit THEOCLYMENUS.

MEN. O Zeus, who art called the father of all and god of
wisdom, look down on us and change our woe to joy ! Lend
us thy ready help, as we seek to drag our fortunes up the
rugged hill ; if with but thy finger-tip thou touch us,we shall
reach our longed-for goal. Sufficient are the troubles we ere
this have undergone. Full oft have I invoked you gods to
hear my joys and sorrows ;2 I do not deserve to be for ever
unhappy, but to advance and prosper. Grant me but this
one boon, and so will ye crown my future with blessing.

[Exeunt MENELAUS and HELEN.

CHO. Hail ! thou swift Phoenician ship of Sidon ! dear

1 fie £t7. So Musgrave for /ufXff.

2 Paley's reading XP*lffT ^A40'' K\V

B B

370 EURIPIDES. [L. 1453-15^3

to the rowers,1 mother to the foam, leader of fair dol-
phins' gambols, what time the deep is hushed and still, and
Ocean's azure child, the queen of calm, takes up her parable
and says : " Away ! and spread your canvas to the ocean-
breeze. Ho I sailors, ho ! come grip your oars of pine,
speeding Helen on her way to the sheltered beach where
Perseus dwelt of yore."2 It may be thou wilt find the
daughters3 of Leucippus beside the brimming river* or before
the temple of Pallas, when at last with dance and revelry
thou joinest in the merry midnight festival 5 of Hyacinthus,
him whom Phoebus slew in the lists by a quoit 8 hurled o'er
the mark ; wherefore did the son of Zeus ordain that
Laconia's land should set apart that day for sacrifice ; there
too7 shalt thou find the tender maid," whom ye left9 in your
house, for as yet no nuptial torch has shed its light for her.
Oh ! for wings to cleave the air in the track of Libyan cranes,
whose serried ranks leave far behind the wintry storm at the
shrill summons of some veteran leader, who raises his ex-
ultant cry as he wings his way o'er plains that know no rain '°
and yet bear fruitful increase. Ye feathered birds with necks
outstretched, comrades of the racing clouds, on ! on ! till ye
reach the Pleiads in their central station and Orion, lord of
the night ; and as ye settle on Eurotas' banks proclaim the

1 eiptffig., Barnes.

2 i.e. to Mycenae, said to have been founded by Perseus.

3 The daughters of Leucippus were priestesses of Athena and Artemis ;
possibly the name survived as a title for all such priestesses after them.

4 i.e. the Eurotas in Sparta, and the temple of the " Brazen House."

5 mj^iav tvQpoffvvav. So Matthiae.

a TP°xi* O.T Pfiovi SiffKov. So Dobree.

~ Hyacinthus was a beautiful youth beloved by Apollo who acci-
dentally killed him with the blow of a quoit. After his death the
festival of the Hyacinthia was instituted in his honour.

8 i.e. Hermione.

9 Xiir'ert])'. So Hermann, who supplies the lacuna after oJVoig with

It was believed by the ancients that no rain fell in Egypt.

HELEN. 371

glad tidings that Menelaus hath sacked the city of Dardanus,
and will soon be home. Ye sons of Tyndareus at length
appear, speeding in your chariot through the sky, denizens
of heaven's courts beneath the radiant whirling l stars,
guide this 2 lady Helen safely o'er the azure main, across the
foam-flecked billows of the deep-blue sea, sending the mari-
ners a favouring gale from Zeus ; and from your sister snatch
the ill-repute of wedding with a barbarian, even the punish-
ment 3 bequeathed to her from that strife on Ida's mount,
albeit she never went to the land4 of Ilium, to the battlements
of Phcebus.

MES. (entering hurriedly?) O king, [at last 5 have I found
thee in the palace; for new] tidings of woe art thou soon to
hear from me.

THE. How now?

MES. Make haste to woo a new wife; for Helen hath
escaped.

THE. Borne aloft on soaring wings, or treading still the
earth ?

MES. Menelaus has succeeded in bearing her hence;
'twas he that brought the news of his own death.

THE. O monstrous story ! what ship conveyed her from
these shores ? Thy tale is past belief.

MES. The very ship thou didst thyself give the stranger ;
and that thou mayest briefly knew all. he is gone, taking thy
sailors with him.

THE. How was it ? I long to know, for I never gave it a

1 Anaxagoras, whose theories are frequently alluded to by Euripides,
held that the heaven rotated round the earth. This may be alluded to,
but the line is probably corrupt.

2 ranSt for MS. rac. So Badham.

3 Scaliger iroiva£iiff for MS. 7rov7j6«7cr'.

* ydv OVK i\0oi>0a. So Musgrave for rav oi>K i\9ovoav.

5 Hermann's emendation, TO. /i<m<rr', is followed in preference to the
many others offered. Nauck regards the words here inclosed as
spurious.

372 EURIPIDES. [L. 1524-1593

thought that a single arm could master all those sailors
with whom thou wert despatched.

MES. Soon as the daughter of Zeus had left this royal
mansion and come unto the sea, daintily picking her way,
most craftily she set to mourn her husband, though he was
not dead but at her side. Now when we reached thy docks
well walled, we began to launch the fastest of Sidonian
ships, with her full complement of fifty rowers, and each
task in due succession followed ; some set up the mast,
others ranged the oars with their blades ready,1 and stored2 the
white sails within the hold, and the rudder was let down astern
and fastened securely. While we were thus employed, those
Hellenes, who had been fellow- voyagers with Menelaus,
were watching us, it seems, and they drew nigh the beach,
clad in the rags of shipwrecked men, — well built enough, but
squalid to look upon. And the son of Atreus, directly he
saw them approach, bespoke them, craftily introducing the
reason for his mourning: "Ye hapless mariners, how have
ye come hither? your Achaean ship where wrecked? Are ye
here to help bury dead Atreus1 son, whose missing body this
lady, daughter of Tyndareus, is honouring with a cenotaph ? "
Then they with feigned tears proceeded to the ship, bear-
ing aboard the offerings to be thrown into the deep for Mene-
laus. Thereat were we suspicious, and communed amongst
ourselves regarding the number of extra passengers; but still
we kept silence out of respect for thy orders, for by inti list-
ing the command of the vessel to the stranger thou didst
thus spoil all. Now the other victims gave no trouble,

1 Paley retaining rapaov rt \tipi translates the passage " one set up
the mast, another placed the oar, and arranged the oarage to the
rower's hand." But Lightfoot's suggestion, Tapffio tcari'ipti, which is
here followed, seems very plausible, on the authority of Iph. T. 13451
where the same phrase occurs. Badham's rapooi> r' ivtipt seems a
doubtful improvement.

2 Paley conjectures trtriOti or Ivtr'tGri for MS. e/e tv i)v, but without
absolutely rejecting the old reading.

HELEN. 373

and we easily put them aboard ; only the bull refused to go
forward along the gangway, but rolled his eyes around and
kept bellowing, and, arching his back and glaring askance
toward his horns, he would not let us touch him. But Helen's
lord cried out : " O ! ye who laid waste the town of Ilium,
come pick up yon bull, the dead man's offering, on your
stout shoulders, as is the way in Hellas, and cast him into the
hold ; " and as he spoke he drew his sword in readiness.
Then they at his command came and caught up the bull and
carried him bodily on to the deck. And Menelaus stroked
the horse on neck and brow, coaxing it to go aboard. At
length, when the ship was fully freighted, Helen climbed the
ladder with graceful step and took her seat midway betwixt
the rowers' benches, and he sat by her side, even Menelaus
who was called dead ; and the rest, equally divided on the
right and left side of the ship, sat them down, each beside his
man, with swords concealed beneath their cloaks, and the
billows soon were echoing to the rowers' song, as we heard
the boatswain's note. Now when we were put out a space,
not very far nor very near, the helmsman asked, "Shall
we, sir stranger, sail yet further on our course, or will this
serve? For thine it is to command the ship." And he
answered : "Tis far enough for me," while in his right hand he
gripped his sword and stepped on to the prow; then standing
o'er the bull to slay it, never a word said he of any dead man,
but cut its throat and thus made prayer: "Poseidon, lord of
the sea, whose home is in the deep, and ye holy daughters of
Nereus, bring me and my wife safe and sound to Nauplia's
strand from hence ! " Anon a gush of blood, fair omen for
the stranger, spouted into the tide. One cried, " There is
treachery in this voyage; why should we now sail to Nauplia?1
Give the order, helmsman, turn thy rudder." But the son of
Atreus, standing where he slew the bull, called to his com-
rades, " Why do ye, the pick of Hellas, delay to smite
is Paley's conjecture for the corrupt Na£iav.

3/4 EURIPIDES. [L. 1594-1645

and slay the barbarians and fling them from the ship into the
waves?" While to thy crew the boatswain cried the opposite
command : " Ho ! some of you catch up chance spars,
break up the benches, or snatch the oar-blade from the thole,
and beat out the brains of these our foreign foes.'' Forth-
with up sprang each man, the one part armed with poles that
sailors use, the other with swords. And the ship ran down with
blood; while Helen from her seat upon the stern thus cheered
them on : " Where is the fame ye won in Troy ? show it
against these barbarians." Then as they hasted to the fray,
some would fall and some rise up again, while others hadst
thou seen laid low in death. But Menelaus in full armour,
made his way, sword in hand, to any point where his watch-
ful eye perceived his comrades in distress; so we leapt from
the ship and swam, and he cleared the benches of thy rowers.
Then did the prince l set himself to steer, and bade them
make a straight course to Hellas. So they set up the mast,
and favouring breezes blew ; and they are clear away, while
I, from death escaped, let myself down by the anchor chain
into the sea ; and, just as I was spent, one threw me a rope
and rescued me, and drew me to land to bring to thee this
message. Ah ! there is naught more serviceable to mankind
than a prudent distrust.

CHO. I would never have believed that Menelaus could
have eluded us and thee, O king, in the way he did on his
coming.

THE. Woe is me ! cozened by a woman's tricks ! My
bride hath escaped me. If the ship could have been pur-
sued and overtaken, I would have used every means forth-
with to catch the strangers ; as it is, I . will avenge myself
upon my treacherous sister, in that she saw Menelaus in my
palace and did not tell me. Wherefore shall she nevermore
deceive another by her prophetic art.

1 KirchhofT's araicra, "bade the steersman make straight for," is a
simple correction, iff an$- is necessary.

HELEN. 375

FOR. Ho, there ! whither away so fast, my lord ? on what
bloody thought intent ?

THE. Whither Justice calls me. Out of my path !

FOR. I will not loose thy robe, for on grievous mischief
art thou bent.

THE. Shalt thou, a slave, control thy master ?

POR. Yea, for I am in my senses.

THE. I should not say so, if thou wilt not let me —

POR. Nay, but that I never will.

THE. Slay my sister most accursed.

POR. Say rather, most righteous.

THE. " Righteous " ? she who betrayed me.

POR. There is an honourable treachery, which 'tis right to
commit.

THE. By giving my bride to another ?

POR. Only to those who had a better right.

THE. Who hath any rights o'er mine ?

POR. He that received her from her father.

THE. Nay, but fortune gave her to me.

POR. And destiny took her away.

THE. 'Tis not for thee to decide my affairs.

POR. Only supposing mine be the better counsel.

THE. So I am thy subject, not thy ruler.

POR. Aye, a subject bound to do the right, and eschew
the wrong.

THE. It seems thou art eager to be slain.

POR. Slay me ; thy sister shalt thou never slay with my
consent, but me perchance ; for l to die for their masters is
the fairest death that noble slaves can find.

Dio. Restrain those bursts of rage that hurry thee to undue
lengths, O Theoclymenus, king of this country. We are
the twin sons of Zeus that call to thee by name, whom Leda
bore one day, with Helen too who hath fled from thy palace.

1 uȣ was here inserted by Hermann and Person.

376 EURIPIDES. [L. 1646-1692

For thou art wroth for a marriage never destined for thee ; nor
is thy sister Theonoe, daughter of a Nereid goddess, wrong-
ing thee because she honours the word of God and her father's
just behests. For it was ordained that Helen should abide
within thy halls up till the present time, but since Troy is
razed to the ground [and she hath lent her name to the
goddesses, no longer need she stay ' ], now must she be united
in the self-same wedlock as before, and reach her home and
share it with her husband. Withhold then thy malignant
blade from thy sister, and believe that she herein is acting
with discretion. Long, long ago had we our sister saved,
seeing that Zeus has made us gods, but we were too weak for
destiny as well as the deities, who willed these things to be.
This is my bidding to thee ; while to my sister I say, "Sail
on with thy husband; and ye shall have a prosperous breeze;
for we, thy brethren twain, will course along the deep and
bring you safely to your fatherland. And when at last thy
goal is reached and thy life ended, thou shalt be famous as a
goddess, and with thy twin brethren share the drink-offering,
and like us receive gifts from men, for such is the will of Zeus.
Yea, and that spot 2 where the son of Maia first appointed
thee a home when from Sparta he removed thee, after steal-
ing an image of thee from heaven's mansions to prevent thy
marriage with Paris, even the isle 3 that lies like a sentinel
along the Attic coast, shall henceforth be called by thy name
amongst men, for that it welcomed thee when stolen from
thy home. Moreover, Heaven ordains that the wanderer
Meruelaus shall find a home within an island of the blest ;
for to noble souls hath the deity no dislike, albeit these oft
suffer more than those of no account.

1 Various attempts have been made to redeem the awkwardness of
this line, which is probably an interpolation, as Nauck considers it.

2 This has been identified by some as Cranae, a long narrow island
o.Hf Sunium. Others call it Macri.

3 Reading with Hermann Qpovpbv Trap' 'A»cry TtTa\vvi\v vijffov

HELEN. 377

THE.1 Ye sons of Leda and of Zeus, I will forego my
former quarrel about your sister, nor seek to slay mine own
any more. Let Helen to her home repair, if such is
Heaven's pleasure. Ye know that ye are sprung of the same
stock 2 as your sister, best of women, chastest too ; hail then
for the true nobility of Helen's soul, a quality too seldom
found amongst her sex !

CHO. Many are the forms the heavenly will assumes; and
many a thing God brings to pass contrary to expectation :
that which was looked for is not accomplished, while Heaven
finds out a way for what we never hoped ; e'en such has been
the issue here.

1 Nauck suspects these closing lines of the play, bat they are almost
necessary for the conclusion.
• Hermann after Canter reads ofio^vovc:^ which Paley follows.

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