by Euripides
TUTOR In succour of her sons to annoy the gods?
CREUSA Ev’n so: her Pallas slew, daughter of Jove.
TUTOR What fierce and dreadful form did she then wear?
CREUSA Her breastplate arm’d with vipers wreathed around.
TUTOR A well-known story; often have I heard it.
CREUSA Her spoils before her breast Minerva wore.
TUTOR The aegis; so they call the vest of Pallas.
CREUSA So named, when in the war she join’d the gods.
TUTOR But how can this, my child, annoy thy foes?
CREUSA Thou canst not but remember Erichthonius.
TUTOR Whom first of thy high race the earth brought forth.
CREUSA To him while yet an infant Pallas gave-
TUTOR What? Thy slow preface raises expectation.
CREUSA Two drops of blood that from the Gorgon fell.
TUTOR And on the human frame what power have these?
CREUSA The one works death, the other heals disease.
TUTOR In what around the infant’s body hung?
CREUSA Enclosed in gold: he gave them to my father.
TUTOR At his decease then they devolved to thee?
CREUSA Ay, and I wear it as a bracelet; look.
TUTOR Their double qualities how temper’d, say.
CREUSA This drop, which from her hollow vein distill’d,-
TUTOR To what effect applied? What is its power?
CREUSA Medicinal, of sovereign use to life.
TUTOR The other drop, what faculties hath that?
CREUSA It kills, the poison of the Gorgon dragons.
TUTOR And dost thou bear this gore blended in one?
CREUSA No, separate; for with ill good mixes not.
TUTOR O my dear child, thou hast whate’er we want.
CREUSA With this the boy shall die, and thou shalt kill him.
TUTOR Where? How? ’Tis thine to speak, to dare be mine.
CREUSA At Athens, when he comes beneath my roof.
TUTOR I like not this; what I proposed displeased.
CREUSA Dost thou surmise what enters now my thoughts?
TUTOR Suspicion waits thee, though thou kill him not.
CREUSA Thou hast judged well: a stepdame’s hate is proverb’d.
TUTOR Then kill him here; thou mayst disown the deed.
CREUSA My mind ev’n now anticipates the pleasure.
TUTOR Thus shalt thou meet thy husband’s wiles with wiles
CREUSA This shalt thou do: this little golden casket
Take from my hand, Minerva’s gift of old;
To where my husband secretly prepares
The sacrifice, bear this beneath thy vest.
That supper ended, when they are to pour
Libations to the gods, thou mayst infuse
In the youth’s goblet this: but take good heed,
Let none observe thee; drug his cup alone
Who thinks to lord it in my house: if once
It pass his lips, his foot shall never reach
Illustrious Athens: death awaits him here.
(She gives him the casket.)
TUTOR Go thou then to the hospitable house
Prepared for thy reception: be it mine,
Obedient to thy word to do this deed.
Come then, my aged foot, be once more young
In act, though not in years, for past recall
That time is fled: kill him, and bear him forth.
Well may the prosperous harbour virtuous thought;
But when thou wouldst avenge thee on thy foes,
There is no law of weight to hinder thee.
(They both go out.)
CHORUS (singing) Daughter of Ceres, Trivia hear, Propitious regent of each public way
Amid the brightness of the day, Nor less when night’s dark hour engenders fear;
The fulness of this goblet guide
To check with death this stripling’s pride, For whom my queen this fatal draught prepares,
Tinged with the Gorgon’s venom’d gore: That seat, which mid Erechtheus’ royal heirs
His pride claims, it shall claim no more: Never may one of alien blood disgrace The imperial honours of that high-born race!
Should not this work of fate succeed, Nor the just vengeance of my queen prevail;
Should this apt time of daring fail, And hope, that flatters now, desert the deed;
Slaughter shall other means afford,
The strangling cord, the piercing sword; For rage from disappointed rage shall flow,
And try each. various form of death; For never shall my queen this torment know;
Ne’er while she draws this vital breath, Brook in her house that foreign lords should shine, Clothed with the splendours of her ancient line.
Thou whom the various hymn delights, Then thy bright choir of beauteous dames among,
Dancing the stream’s soft brink along, Thou seest the guardian of thy mystic rites,
Thy torch its midnight vigils keep,
Thine eye meantime disdaining sleep; While with thee dances Jove’s star-spangled plain.
And the moon dances up the sky: Ye nymphs, that lead to grots your frolic train,
Beneath the gulfy founts that lie: Thou gold-crown’d queen, through night’s dark regions fear’d,
And thou, her mother, power revered, How should I blush to see this youth unknown! This Delphic vagrant, hope to seize the throne.
You, who the melting soul to move, In loose, dishonest airs the Muse employ
To celebrate love’s wanton joy, The joy of unallow’d, unholy love,
See how our pure and modest law
Can lavish man’s lewd deeds o’erawe! Ye shameless bards, revoke each wanton air;
No more these melting measures frame; Bid the chaste muse in Virtue’s cause declare,
And mark man’s lawless bed with shame! Ungrateful is this Jove-descended lord;
For, his wife’s childless bed abhorr’d, Lewdly he courts the embrace of other dames, And with a spurious son his pride inflames.
(An ATTENDANT of CREUSA enters.)
ATTENDANT Athenian dames, where shall I find our queen,
The daughter of Erechtheus? Seeking her,
This city have I walked around in vain.
LEADER OF THE CHORUS And for what cause, my fellow-slave? What means
Thy hasty foot? What tidings dost thou bring?
ATTENDANT We are discover’d; and the rulers here
Seek her, that she may die o’erwhelm’d with stones.
LEADER Ah me! what wouldst thou say? Are our designs
Of secret ruin to this youth disclosed?
ATTENDANT They are; and know, the worst of ills await you.
LEADER How were our dark devices brought to light?
ATTENDANT The god, that justice might receive no stain
Caused it to triumph o’er defeated wrong.
LEADER How? as a suppliant, I conjure thee, tell me
Of this inform’d, if we must die, more freely
Wish we to die than see the light of heaven.
ATTENDANT Soon as the husband of Creusa left
The god’s oracular shrine, this new-found son
He to the feast, and sacrifice prepared
To the high gods, led with him. Xuthus then
Went where the hallow’d flame of Bacchus mounts,
That on each rock’s high point the victim’s blood
Might flow, a grateful offering for his son
Thus recognised, to whom he gave in charge,
“Stay thou, and with the artist’s expert aid
Erect the sheltering tent: my rites perform’d
To the kind gods that o’er the genial bed
Preside, should I be there detain’d too long,
Spread the rich table to my present friends.”
This said, he led the victims to the rocks.
Meanwhile with reverent heed the son ‘gan rear
On firm suppo
rters the wide tent, whose sides
No masonry require, yet framed to exclude
The mid-day sun’s hot beams, or his last rays
When sinking in the west: the lengthen’d lines
Equally distant comprehend a square
Of twice five thousand feet (the skilful thus
Compute it), space to feast (for so he will’d)
All Delphi: from the treasures of the god
He took the sacred tapestry, and around
Hung the rich shade, on which the admiring eye
Gazes with fix’d delight: first over head,
Like a broad pennon spread the extended woof,
Which from the Amazonian spoils the son
Of Jove, Alcides, hallow’d to the god;
In its bright texture interwov’n a sky
Gathering the stars in its ethereal round,
While downwards to the western wave the sun
His steeds declines, and to his station high
Draws up the radiant flame of Hesperus.
Meanwhile the Night robed in her sable stole,
Her unreign’d car advances; on her state
The stars attend; the Pleiads mounting high,
And with his glittering sword Orion arm’d;
Above, Arcturus to the golden pole
Inclines; full-orb’d the month-dividing moon
Takes her bright station, and the Hyades
Marked by the sailor: distant in the rear,
Aurora ready to relume the day,
And put the stars to flight. The sides were graced
With various textures of the historic woof,
Barbaric arguments; in gallant trim
Against the fleet of Greece the hostile fleet
Rides proudly on. Here monstrous forms portray’d
Human and brutal mix’d: the Thracian steeds
Are seized, the hinds, and the adventurous chase
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
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
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:
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.
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.
