Ion, By Euripides

Of savage lions: figured nigh the doors, Cecrops, attended by his daughter's, roll'd His serpent train: in the ample space within He spread the festal table, richly deck'd With golden goblets. Now the herald walk'd His round, each native that inclined to grace The feast inviting: to the crowded tent They hasten, crown'd with garlands, and partake The exquisite repast. The pleasured sense Now satiate, in the midst an old man stood, Officious in his ministry, which raised Much mirth among the guests; for from the urns He fill'd the lavers, and with fragrant myrrh Incensed the place; the golden bowls he claim'd His charge. When now the jocund pipes 'gan breathe Harmonious airs, and the fresh goblet stood Ready to walk its round, the old man said, "Away with these penurious cups, and bring Capacious bowls; so shall you quickly bathe Your spirits in delight." With speed were brought Goblets of gold and silver: one he took Of choicer frame; and, seemingly intent To do his young lord honour, the full vase Gave to his hands, but in the wine infused A drug of poisonous power, which, it is said, His queen supplied, that the new son no more Might view the light of heav'n; but unobserved He mix'd it. As the youth among the rest Pour'd the libation, 'mid the attendant slaves Words of reproach one utter'd: he, as train'd Within the temple and with expert seers, Deem'd them of evil omen, and required

Deem'd them of evil omen, and required Another goblet to be filled afresh- The former a libation to the god, He cast upon the ground, instructing all To pour, like him, the untasted liquor down. Silence ensued: the sacred bowls we fill With wines of Byblos; when a troop of doves Came fluttering in, for undisturb'd they haunt The dome of Phoebus: in the floating wine They dipp'd their bills to drink, then raised their heads, Gurgling it down their beauteous-plumed throats. Harmless to all the spilt wine, save to her That lighted where the youth had pour'd his bowl: She drank, and straight convulsive shiverings seized Her beauteous plumes; around in giddy rings She whirl'd, and in a strange and mournful note Seem'd to lament: amazement seized the guests, Seeing the poor bird's pangs: her heart heaved thick, And stretching out her scarlet legs, she died. Rending his robes, the son of Phoebus given Sprung from the table, and aloud exclaim'd,- "What wretch design'd to kill me? Speak, old man: Officious was thy ministry; the bowl I from thy hand received." Then straight he seized His aged arm, and to the question held him, As in the fact discover'd: he thus caught, Reluctant and constrain'd, own'd the bold deed, The deadly goblet by Creusa drugg'd. Forth from the tent, the guests attending, rush'd The youth announced by Phoebus, and amid The Pythian regents says,-"O hallow'd land! This stranger dame, this daughter of Erechtheus

This stranger dame, this daughter of Erechtheus Attempts my life by poison." Then decreed The Delphian lords (nor did one voice dissent) That she should die, my mistress, from the rock Cast headlong, as the deed was aim'd against A sacred life, and impiously presumed This hallow'd place with murder to profane. Demanded by the state, she this way bends Her wretched steps. Unhappy to this shrine She came through fond desire of children; here, Together with her hopes, her life is lost. CHORUS (singing) None, there is none, from death no flight, To me no refuge; our dark deed Betray'd, betray'd to open light; The festive bowl, with sprightly wine that flow'd Mix'd with the Gorgon's viperous blood, An offering to the dead decreed, All is betray'd to light: and I, Cast headlong from the rock, must die. What flight shall save me from this death, Borne on swift pinions through the air, Sunk to the darksome cave beneath, Or mounted on the rapid car? Or shall the flying bark unfurl its sails? Alas, my queen, no flight avails, Save when some god's auspicious power Shall snatch us from the dangerous hour. Unhappy queen, what pangs shall rend thy heart! Shall we, who plann'd the deathful deed, Be caught within the toils we spread, While justice claims severe her chast'ning part? (CREUSA rushes in.) CREUSA I am pursued, ye faithful females, doom'd To death: the Pythian council hath decreed it:

To death: the Pythian council hath decreed it: My life is forfeited. LEADER OF THE CHORUS Unhappy lady, We know the dreadful ills that close thee round. CREUSA Ah, whither shall I fly? From instant death Scarce hath my foot sped hither, from my foes By stealth escaping. LEADER Whither wouldst thou fly, But to this altar? CREUSA What will that avail me? LEADER To kill a suppliant there the law forbids. CREUSA But by the law I perish. LEADER If their hands Had seized thee. CREUSA Dreadful contest, with drawn swords They hastily advance. LEADER Now take thy seat At the altar: shouldst thou die ev'n there, thy blood Will call the vengeance of the god on those That spilt it: but our fortune we must bear. (She takes refuge at the altar as ION, guards, and Delphians enter.) ION Bull-visaged sire Cephisus, what a viper Hast thou produced? a dragon from her eyes Glaring pernicious flame. Each daring deed Is hers: less venomous the Gorgon's blood, With which she purposed to have poison'd me. Seize her, that the Parnassian rocks may tease Those nice-adjusted ringlets of her hair, As down the craggy precipice she bounds. Here my good genius saved me, e'er I came To Athens, there beneath my stepdame's wiles To fall; amid my friends thy fell intents Have I unravell'd, what a pest to me, Thy hate how deadly: had thy toils inclosed me In thine own house, thou wouldst at once have sent me With complete ruin to the shades below.

With complete ruin to the shades below. But nor the altar nor Apollo's shrine Shall save thee. Pity, might her voice be heard, Would rather plead for me and for my mother, She absent, yet the name remains with me. Behold that sorceress; with what art she wove Wile after wile; the altar of the god Impress'd her not with awe, as if secure. No vengeance waited her unhallow'd deeds. CREUSA I charge thee, kill me not, in my own right, And in the god's, whose suppliant here I stand. ION What right hast thou to plead Apollo's name? CREUSA My person hallow'd to the god I offer. ION Yet wouldst thou poison one that is the god's. CREUSA Thou wast no more Apollo's, but thy father's. ION I have been, of a father's wealth I speak. CREUSA And now I am: thou hast that claim no more. ION But thou art impious: pious were my deeds. CREUSA As hostile to my house, I would have kill'd thee. ION Did I against thy country march in arms? CREUSA And more; thou wouldst have fired Erechtheus' house. ION What torch, what brands, what flames had I prepared? CREUSA There wouldst thou fix, seizing my right by force. ION The land which he possess'd, my father gave me. CREUSA What claim hath there the race of Aeolus? ION He was its guardian, not with words but arms. CREUSA Its soldier then; an inmate, not its lord. ION Wouldst thou, through fear of what might happen, kill me? CREUSA Lest death should be my portion, if not thine.

CREUSA Lest death should be my portion, if not thine. ION Childless thou enviest that my father found me. CREUSA And wilt thou make a childless house thy spoil? ION Devolves my father then no share to me? CREUSA His shield, his spear; be those thine heritage. ION Come from the altar, quit that hallow'd seat. CREUSA Instruct thy mother, whosoe'er she be. ION Shalt thou unpunish'd meditate my death? CREUSA Within this shrine if thou wilt murder me. ION What pleasure mid these sacred wreaths to die? CREUSA We shall grieve one, by whom we have been grieved. ION Strange, that the god should give these laws to men, Bearing no stamp of honour, nor design'd With provident thought: it is not meet to place The unrighteous at his altars; worthier far To be chased thence; nor decent that the vile Should with their touch pollute the gods: the good, Oppress'd with wrongs, should at those hallow'd seats Seek refuge: ill beseems it that the unjust And just alike should seek protection there. (As ION and his followers are about to tear CREUSA from the altar, the PRIESTESS of Apollo enters from the temple.) PRIESTESS Forbear, my son, leaving the oracular seat, I pass this pale, the priestess of the god, The guardian of the tripod's ancient law, Call'd to this charge from all the Delphian dames. ION Hail, my loved mother, dear, though not my parent. PRIESTESS Yet let me have the name, 'tis grateful to me.

PRIESTESS Yet let me have the name, 'tis grateful to me. ION Hast thou yet heard their wily trains to kill me? PRIESTESS I have; but void of mercy thou dost wrong. ION Should I not ruin those that sought my life? PRIESTESS Stepdames to former sons are always hostile. ION And I to stepdames ill intreated thus. PRIESTESS Be not, this shrine now leaving for thy country. ION How, then, by thy monition should I act? PRIESTESS Go with good omens, pure to Athens go. ION All must be pure that kill their enemies. PRIESTESS So do not thou: attentive mark my words. ION Speak: from good will whate'er thou say'st must flow. PRIESTESS Seest thou the vase I hold beneath mine arm? ION I see an ancient ark entwined with wreaths. PRIESTESS In this long since an infant I received thee. ION What say'st thou? New is thy discourse and strange. PRIESTESS In silence have I kept them: now I show them. ION And why conceal'd, as long since thou received'st me? PRIESTESS The god would have thee in his shrine a servant. ION Is that no more his will? How shall I know it? PRIESTESS Thy father shown, he sends thee from this land. ION Hast thou preserved these things by charge, or how? PRIESTESS It was the god that so disposed my thought. ION With what design? Speak, finish thy discourse. PRIESTESS Ev'n to this hour to keep what then I found. ION What gain imports this to me, or what loss? PRIESTESS There didst thou lie wrapp'd in thy infant vests.

PRIESTESS There didst thou lie wrapp'd in thy infant vests. ION Thou hast produced whence I may find my mother. PRIESTESS Since now the god so wills, but not before. ION This is a day of bless'd discoveries. PRIESTESS Now take them: o'er all Asia, and the bounds Of Europe hold thy progress: thou shalt know These tokens. To do pleasure to the god, I nurtured thee, my son; now to thy hand Restore what was his will I should receive Unbidden, and preserve: for what intent It was his will, I have not power to say. That I had these, or where they were conceal'd, No mortal knew. And now farewell: the love I bear thee equals what a parent feels. Let thy inquiries where they ought begin; First, if some Delphian virgin gave thee birth, And in this shrine exposed thee; next, if one Of Greece. From me, and from the god, who feels An interest in thy fortune, thou hast all. (She goes into the temple after giving ION the ark.) ION Ah me! the moist tear trickles from mine eye, When I reflect that she who gave me birth, By stealth espoused, may with like secrecy Have sold me, to my infant lips her breast Denied: but in the temple of the god Without a name, a servile life I led. All from the god was gracious, but from fortune Harsh; for the time when in a mother's arms I in her fondness should have known some joy Of life, from that sweet care was I estranged, A mother's nurture: nor less wretched she,

A mother's nurture: nor less wretched she, Thus forced to lose the pleasure in her son. But I will take this vase, and to the god Bear it, a hallow'd offering; that from thence I may find nothing which I would not find. Should she, that gave me being, chance to be A slave, to find her were a greater ill, Than to rest silent in this ignorance. O Phoebus, in thy temple hang I this. What am I doing? War I not against The pleasure of the god, who saved for me These pledges of my mother? I must dare, And open these: my fate cannot be shunn'd. (He opens the ark.) Ye sacred garlands, what have you so long Conceal'd: ye bands, that keep these precious relics? Behold the cover of this circular vase; Its freshness knows no change, as if a god So will'd; this osier-woven ark yet keeps Its soundness undecay'd; yet many a year, Since it contain'd this treasured charge, has pass'd. CREUSA What an unhoped-for sight do I behold! ION I thought thou long hadst known to keep thee silent. CREUSA Silence is mine no more; instruct not me; For I behold the ark, wherein of old I laid thee, O my son, an infant babe; And in the caves of Cecrops, with the rocks Of Macrai roof'd, exposed thee: I will quit This altar, though I run on certain death. ION Seize her; for by the impulse of the god She leaves the sculptured altar: bind her bands. CREUSA Instantly kill me, so that I embrace This vase, and thee, and these thy conceal'd pledges.

This vase, and thee, and these thy conceal'd pledges. ION Is not this strange? I take thee at thy word. CREUSA Not strange: a friend thou by thy friends art found. ION Thy friend! Yet wouldst thou kill me secretly. CREUSA My son: if that to parents is most dear. ION Forbear thy wiles; I shall refute them well. CREUSA Might I but to come to what I wish, my son! ION Is this vase empty, or contains it aught? CREUSA Thy infant vests, in which I once exposed thee. ION And wilt thou name them to me, ere thou see them? CREUSA If I recount them not, be death my meed. ION Speak then: thy confidence hath something strange. CREUSA A tissue, look, which when a child I wrought. ION What is it? Various are the works of virgins. CREUSA A slight, unfinish'd essay of the loom. ION What figure wrought? Thou shalt not take me thus. CREUSA A Gorgon central in the warp enwoven- ION What fortune haunts me, O supreme of gods! CREUSA And like an aegis edged with serpents round. ION Such is the woof, and such the vest I find. CREUSA Thou old embroidery of my virgin bands! ION Is there aught else besides this happy proof? CREUSA Two dragons, an old work, their jaws of gold. ION The gift of Pallas, who thus nurtures children? CREUSA Emblems of Erichthonius of old times. ION Why? for what use? Explain these works of gold. CREUSA For ornaments to grace the infant's neck. ION See, here they are; the third I wish to know.

ION See, here they are; the third I wish to know. CREUSA A branch of olive then I wreathed around thee, Pluck'd from that tree which from Minerva's rock First sprung; if it be there, it still retains Its verdure: for the foliage of that olive, Fresh in immortal beauty, never fades. ION O my dear mother! I with joy behold thee. With transport 'gainst thy cheek my cheek recline. (They embrace.) CREUSA My son, my son, far dearer to thy mother Than yon bright orb (the god will pardon me) , Do I then hold thee in my arms, thus found Beyond my hopes, when in the realms below, I thought thy habitation 'mong the dead? ION O my dear mother, in thy arms I seem As one that had been dead to life return'd. CREUSA Ye wide-expanded rays of heavenly light, What notes, what high-raised strains shall tell my joy? This pleasure whence, this unexpected transport? ION There was no blessing farther from my thoughts Than this, my mother, to be found thy son. CREUSA I tremble yet. ION And hast thou yet a fear, Holding me, not to hold me? CREUSA Such fond hopes Long time have I renounced. Thou hallow'd matron, From whom didst thou receive my infant child? What bless'd hand brought him to Apollo's shrine? ION It was the god's appointment: may our life To come be happy, as the past was wretched. CREUSA Not without tears, my son, wast thou brought forth; Nor without anguish did my hands resign thee. Now breathing on thy cheek I feel a joy

Now breathing on thy cheek I feel a joy Transporting me with heartfelt ecstasies. ION The words expressive of thy joys speak mine. CREUSA Childless no more, no more alone, my house Now shines with festive joy; my realms now own A lord; Erechtheus blooms again; no more His high-traced lineage sees night darkening round, But glories in the sun's refulgent beams. ION Now let my father, since he's present here, Be partner of the joy which I have given you. CREUSA What says my son? ION Such, such as I am proved. CREUSA What mean thy words? Far other is thy birth. ION Ah me! thy virgin bed produced me base. CREUSA Nor bridal torch, my son, nor bridal dance Had graced my nuptial rites, when thou wast born. ION Then I'm a wretch, a base-born wretch: say whence. CREUSA Be witness, thou by whom the Gorgon died,- ION What means this adjuration? CREUSA Who hast fix'd High o'er my cave thy seat amid the rocks With olive clothed. ION Abstruse thy words, and dark. CREUSA Where on the cliffs the nightingale attunes Her songs, Apollo- ION Why Apollo named? CREUSA Led me in secret to his bed. ION Speak on; Thy words import some glorious fortune to me. CREUSA Thee in the tenth revolving month, my son, A secret pang to Phoebus did I bear. ION Thy words, if true, are grateful to my soul. CREUSA These swathing bands, thy mother's virgin work, Wove by my flying shuttle, round thy body I roll'd; but from thy lips my breast withheld,

I roll'd; but from thy lips my breast withheld, A mother's nouriture, nor bathed thy bands In cleansing lavers; but to death exposed thee, Laid in the dreary cave, to birds of prey A feast, rent piecemeal by their ravenous beaks. ION Cruel, my mother, was thy deed. CREUSA By fear Constrain'd, my son, I cast thy life away; Unwillingly I left thee there to die. ION And from my hands unholy were thy death. CREUSA Dreadful was then my fortune, dreadful here, Whirl'd by the eddying blast from misery there To misery here, and back again to joy: Her boisterous winds are changed; may she remain In this repose: enough of ills are past: After the storm soft breathes a favouring gale. LEADER From this example, mid the greatest ills Never let mortal man abandon hope. ION O thou, that hast to thousands wrought a change Of state ere this, involving them in ills, And raising them to happiness again; Fortune, to what a point have I been carried, Ready to kill my mother, horrid thought! But in the sun's bright course each day affords Instruction. Thee, my mother, have I found, In that discovery bless'd; nor hath my birth Aught I can blame: yet one thing would I say To thee alone:-walk this way: to thine ear In secret would I whisper this, and throw The veil of darkness o'er each circumstance. Take heed, my mother, lest thy maiden fault Seeks in these secret nuptials to conceal Its fault, then charges on the god the deed;

Its fault, then charges on the god the deed; And, fearing my reproach, to Phoebus gives A son, to Phoebus whom thou didst not bear. CREUSA By her, who 'gainst the giants in her car Fought by the side of Jove, victorious Pallas, No one of mortal race is father to thee, But he who brought thee up, the royal Phoebus. ION Why give his son then to another father? Why say that I was born the son of Xuthus? CREUSA Not born the son of Xuthus; but he gives thee, Born from himself as friend to friend may give His son, and heir adopted to his house. ION True is the god, his tripod else were vain. Not without cause then is my mind perplex'd. CREUSA Hear what my thoughts suggest: to work thee good Apollo placed thee in a noble house. Acknowledged his, the rich inheritance Could not be thine, nor could a father's name; For I conceal'd my nuptials, and had plann'd To kill thee secretly: for this the god In kindness gives thee to another father. ION My mind is prompt to entertain such thoughts; But, entering at his shrine will I inquire If from a mortal father I am sprung, Or from Apollo.-Ha! what may this be? What god above the hallow'd dome unveils His radiant face that shines another sun? Haste, let us fly: the presence of the gods 'Tis not for mortals to behold, and live. (MINERVA appears from above.) MINERVA Fly not; in me no enemy you fly; At Athens friendly to you, and no less Here. From that land I come, so named from me,

Here. From that land I come, so named from me, By Phoebus sent with speed: unmeet he deems it To show himself before you, lest with blame The past be mention'd; this he gave in charge, To tell thee that she bore thee, and to him, Phoebus thy father; he to whom he gave thee, Not as to the author of thy being gives thee, But to the inheritance of a noble house. This declaration made, lest thou shouldst die, Kill'd by thy mother's wily trains, or she By thee, these means to save you he devised. These things in silence long conceal'd, at Athens The royal Phoebus would have made it known That thou art sprung from her, thy father he: But to discharge my office, and unfold The oracle of the god, for which you yoked Your chariots, hear: Creusa, take thy son, Go to the land of Cecrops: let him mount The royal throne; for, from Erechtheus sprung, That honour is his due, the sovereignty Over my country: through the states of Greece Wide his renown shall spread; for from his root Four sons shall spring, that to the land, the tribes, The dwellers on my rock, shall give their names. Geleon the first, Hopletes, Argades, And from my aegis named Aegicores: Their sons in fate's appointed time shall fix Their seats along the coast, or in the isles Girt by the Aegean sea, and to my land Give strength; extending thence the opposite plains Of either continent shall make their own, Europe and Asia, and shall boast their name

Europe and Asia, and shall boast their name Ionians, from the honour'd Ion call'd. To thee by Xuthus shall a son be born, Dorus, from whom the Dorian state shall rise To high renown; in the Pelopian land, Another near the Rhian cliffs, along The sea-wash'd coast, his potent monarchy Shall stretch, Achaeus; and his subject realms Shall glory in their chief's illustrious name. Well hath Apollo quitted him in all: First, without pain he caused thee bear a son. That from thy friends thou mightst conceal his birth; After the birth, soon as his infant limbs Thy hands had clothed, to Mercury he gave The charge to take the babe, and in his arms Convey him hither; here with tenderness He nurtured him, nor suffer'd him to perish. Guard now the secret that he is thy son, That his opinion Xuthus may enjoy Delighted: thou too hast thy blessings, lady. And now, farewell: from this relief from ills A prosperous fortune I to both announce. ION O Pallas, daughter of all-powerful Jove! Not with distrust shall we receive thy words: I am convinced that Phoebus is my father, My mother she, not unassured before. CREUSA Hear me too, now: Phoebus I praise, before Unpraised; my son he now restores, of whom Till now I deem'd him heedless. Now these gates Are beauteous to mine eyes; his oracles Now grateful to my soul, unpleasant late. With rapture on these sounding rings my hands Now hang; with rapture I address the gates.

MINERVA This I approve, thy former wayward thoughts Resign'd, with honour that thou name the god. Slow are the gifts of Heaven, but found at length Not void of power. CREUSA My son, let us now go To Athens. MINERVA Go; myself will follow you. CREUSA A noble guard, and friendly to the state. MINERVA But seat him high on thy paternal throne. CREUSA A rich possession, and I glory in him. (MINERVA disappears.) CHORUS (singing) Son of Latona and all-powerful Jove, Apollo, hail! Though fortune's blackest storms Rage on his house, the man whose pious soul Reveres the gods, assumes a confidence, And justly: for the good at length obtain The meed of virtue; but the unholy wretch (Such is his nature) never can be happy. THE END