Besides,I have much pity for thy wife,Now growing old without a child,that grief Unmerited,the last of her high race,The exterior face indeed of royalty,So causelessly commended,bath its brightness;Within,all gloom:for what sweet peace of mind,What happiness is his,whose years are pass'd In comfortless suspicion,and the dread Of violence?Be mine the humble blessings Of private life,rather than be a king,From the flagitious forced to choose my friends,And hate the virtuous through the fear of death.
Gold,thou mayst tell me,hath o'er things like these A sovereign power,and riches give delight:
I have no pleasure in this noisy pomp,Nor,while I guard my riches,in the toil:
Be mine a modest mean that knows not care.
And now,my father,hear the happy state I here enjoy'd;and first,to mortal man That dearest blessing,leisure,and no bustle To cause disturbance:me no ruffian force Shoved from the way:it is not to be borne,When every insolent and worthless wretch Makes you give place.The worship of the god Employ'd my life,or (no unpleasing task)Service to men well pleased:the parting guest I bade farewell-welcomed the new-arrived.
Thus something always new made every hour Glide sweetly on;and to the human mind That dearest wish,though some regard it not,To be,what duty and my nature made me,Just to the god:revolving this,my father,I wish not for thy Athens to exchange This state;permit me to myself to live;Dear to the mind pleasures that arise From humble life,as those which greatness brings.
LEADER
Well hast thou said,if those whom my soul holds Most dear shall in thy words find happiness.
XUTHUS
No more of this discourse;learn to be happy.
It is my will that thou begin it here,Where first I found thee,son:a general feast Will I provide,and make a sacrifice,Which at thy birth I made not:at my table Will I receive thee as a welcome guest,And cheer thee with the banquet,then conduct the To Athens with me as a visitant,Not as my son:for,mid my happiness,I would not grieve my wife,who hath no child.
ION
But I will watch the occasions time may bring,And so present thee,and obtain her leave That thou mayst hold the sceptre which I bear.
Ion I name thee,as befits thy fortune,As first thou met'st me from the hallow'd shrine As I came forth;assemble then thy friends,Invite them all to share the joyful feast,Since thou art soon to leave the Delphic state.
And you,ye females,keep,I charge you,keep This secret;she that tells my wife shall die.
ION
Let us then go;yet one thing to my fortune Is wanting:if I find not her that bore me,Life hath no joy.Might I indulge a wish,It were to find her an Athenian dame,That from my mother I might dare to assume Some confidence;for he whose fortune leads him To a free state proud of their unmix'd race,Though call'd a citizen,must close his lips With servile awe,for freedom is not his.
(XUTHUS and ION go out.)
CHORUS (singing)
strophe Yes,sisters,yes,the streaming eye,The swelling heart I see,the bursting sigh,When thus rejoicing in his son Our queen her royal lord shall find,And give to grief her anguish'd mind,Afflicted,childless,and alone.
What means this voice divine,Son of Latona,fate-declaring power?
Whence is this youth,so fondly graced,That to ripe manhood,from his infant hour,Hath in thy hallow'd courts been plac'd And nurtured at thy shrine?
Thy dark reply delights not me;
Lurking beneath close fraud I see:
Where will this end?I fear,I fear-
'Tis strange,and strange events must hence ensue:
But grateful sounds it to his ear,The youth,that in another's state (Who sees not that my words are true?)Enjoys the fraud,and triumphs in his fate.
antistrophe Say,sisters,say,with duteous zeal Shall we this secret to our queen reveal?
She,to her royal lord resign'd,With equal hope,with equal care,Form'd her his joys,his griefs to share,And gave him an her willing mind.
But joys are his alone;
While she,poor mourner,with a weight of woes,To hoary age advancing,bends;He the bright smile of prosperous fortune knows.
Ev'n thus,unhonour'd by his friends,Plac'd on another's throne,Mischance and ruin on him wait,Who fails to guard its happy state.
Him may mischance and ruin seize,Who round my lov'd queen spreads his wily trains.
No god may his oblation please,No favouring flame to him ascend!
To her my faith,my zeal remains,Known to her ancient royal house a friend.
epode Now the father and the new-found son The festive table haste to spread,Where to the skies Parnassus lifts his head,And deep beneath the hanging stone Forms in its rudely-rifted side A cavern wild and wide;Where Bacchus,shaking high his midnight flames,In many a light fantastic round Dances o'er the craggy ground,And revels with his frantic dames.
Ne'er to my city let him come,This youth:no,rather let him die,And sink into an early tomb!
With an indignant eye Athens would view the stranger's pride Within her gates triumphant ride:
Enough for her the honour'd race that springs From old Erechtheus and her line of kings.
(CREUSA and her aged TUTOR enter.)
CREUSA
Thou venerable man,whose guiding voice My father,while he lived,revered,advance Up to the oracular seat thy aged steps;That,if the royal Phoebus should pronounce Promise of offspring,thou with me mayst share The joy;for pleasing is it when with friends Good fortune we receive;if aught of ill (Avert it,Heaven!)befalls,a friend's kind eye Beams comfort;thee,as once thou didst revere My father,though thy queen,I now revere.
TUTOR
In thee,my child,the nobleness of manners Which graced thy royal ancestors yet lives;Thou never wilt disgrace thy high-born lineage.
Lead me,then,lead me to the shrine,support me:
High is the oracular seat,and steep the ascent;Be thou assistant to the foot of age.
CREUSA
Follow;be heedful where thou set thy steps.
TUTOR
I am:my foot is slow,my heart hath wings.
CREUSA
Fix thy staff firm on this loose-rolling ground.
TUTOR
That hath no eyes;and dim indeed my sight.
CREUSA
