{"collection":"Classics","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/cla/eurip/suppli.htm","path":"cla/eurip/suppli.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/cla/eurip/suppli.htm","text":"The Suppliants\nBy Euripides\nTranslated by E. P. Coleridge\n----------------------------------------------------------------------\nDramatis Personae\nAETHRA, mother of THESEUS\nCHORUS OF ARGIVE MOTHERS\nTHESEUS, King of Athens\nADRASTUS, King of Argos\nHERALD, of Creon, King of Thebes\nMESSENGER\nEVADNE, wife of Capaneus\nIPHIS, father of EVADNE\nCHILDREN of the slain chieftains\nATHENA\n----------------------------------------------------------------------\nBefore the temple of Demeter at Eleusis. On the steps of the great\naltar is seated AETHRA. Around her, in the garb of suppliants, is\nthe CHORUS OF ARGIVE MOTHERS. ADRASTUS lies on the ground before the\naltar, crushed in abject grief. The CHILDREN of the slain chieftains\nstand nearby. Around the altar are the attendants of the\ngoddess.\n----------------------------------------------------------------------\nAETHRA O Demeter, guardian of this Eleusinian land, and ye servants\nof the goddess who attend her fane, grant happiness to me and my son\nTheseus, to the city of Athens and the country of Pittheus, wherein\nmy father reared me, Aethra, in a happy home, and gave me in marriage\nto Aegeus, Pandion's son, according to the oracle of Loxias. This\nprayer I make, when I behold these aged dames, who, leaving their\nhomes in Argos, now throw themselves with suppliant branches at my\nknees in their awful trouble; for around the gates of Cadmus have\nthey lost their seven noble sons, whom on a day Adrastus, king of\nArgos, led thither, eager to secure for exiled Polyneices, his son-in-law,\na share in the heritage of Oedipus; so now their mothers would bury\nin the grave the dead, whom the spear hath slain, but the victors\nprevent them and will not allow them to take up the corpses, spurning\nHeaven's laws. Here lies Adrastus on the ground with streaming eye,\nsharing with them the burden of their prayer to me, and bemoaning\nthe havoc of the sword and the sorry fate of the warriors whom he\nled from their homes. And he doth urge me use entreaty, to persuade\nmy son to take up the dead and help to bury them, either by winning\nwords or force of arms, laying on my son and on Athens this task alone.\nNow it chanced, that I had left my house and come to offer sacrifice\non behalf of the earth's crop at this shrine, where first the fruitful\ncorn showed its bristling shocks above the soil. And here at the holy\naltars of the twain goddesses, Demeter and her daughter, I wait, holding\nthese sprays of foliage, a bond that bindeth not, in compassion for\nthese childless mothers, hoary with age, and from reverence for the\nsacred fillets. To call Theseus hither is my herald to the city gone,\nthat he may rid the land of that which grieveth them, or loose these\nmy suppliant bonds, with pious observance of the gods' will; for such\nas are discreet amongst women should in all cases invoke the aid of\nmen.\nCHORUS (chanting, strophe 1)\nAt thy knees I fall, aged dame, and my old lips beseech thee; arise,\nrescue from the slain my children's bodies, whose limbs, by death\nrelaxed, are left a prey to savage mountain beasts,\n(antistrophe 1)\nBeholding the bitter tears which spring to my eyes and my old wrinkled\nskin torn by my hands; for what can I do else? who never laid out\nmy children dead within my halls, nor now behold their tombs heaped\nup with earth.\n(strophe 2)\nThou too, honoured lady, once a son didst bear, crowning thy lord's\nmarriage with fond joy; then share, O share with me thy mother's feelings,\nin such measure as my sad heart grieves for my own dead sons; and\npersuade thy son, whose aid we implore, to go unto the river Ismenus,\nthere to place within my hapless arms the bodies of my children, slain\nin their prime and left without a tomb.\n(antistrophe 2)\nThough not as piety enjoins, yet from sheer necessity I have come\nto the fire-crowned altars of the gods, falling on my knees with instant\nsupplication, for my cause is just, and 'tis in thy power, blest as\nthou art in thy children, to remove from me my woe; so in my sore\ndistress I do beseech thee of my misery place in my hands my son's\ndead body, that I may throw my arms about his hapless limbs. (The\nattendants of the goddess take up the lament., strophe 3)\nBehold a rivalry in sorrow! woe takes up the tale of woe; hark! thy\nservants beat their breasts. Come ye who join the mourners' wail,\ncome, O sympathetic band, to join the dance, which Hades honours;\nlet the pearly nail be stained red, as it rends your cheeks, let your\nskin be streaked with gore; for honours rendered to the dead are credit\nto the living.\n(antistrophe 3)\nSorrow's charm doth drive me wild, insatiate, painful, endless, even\nas the trickling stream that gushes from some steep rock's face; for\n'tis woman's way to fall a-weeping o'er the cruel calamity of children\ndead. Ah me! would I could die and forget my anguish (THESEUS and\nhis retinue enter.)\nTHESEUS What is this lamentation that I hear, this beating of the\nbreast, these dirges for the dead, with cries that echo from this\nshrine? How fluttering fear disquiets me, lest haply my mother have\ngotted some mischance, in quest of whom I come, for she hath been\nlong absent from home. Ha! what now? A strange sight challenges my\nspeech; I see my aged mother sitting at the altar and stranger dames\nare with her, who in various note proclaim their woe; from aged eyes\nthe piteous tear is starting to the ground, their hair is shorn, their\nrobes are not the robes of joy. What means it, mother? 'Tis thine\nto make it plain to me, mine to listen; yea, for I expect some tidings\nstrange.\nAETHRA My son, these are the mothers of those chieftains seven, who\nfell around the gates of Cadmus' town. With suppliant boughs they\nkeep me prisoner, as thou seest, in their midst.\nTHESEUS And who is yonder man, that moaneth piteously in the gateway?\nAETHRA Adrastus, they inform me, king of Argos.\nTHESEUS Are those his children, those boys who stand round him?\nAETHRA Not his, but the sons of the fallen slain.\nTHESEUS Why are they come to us, with suppliant hand outstretched?\nAETHRA I know; but 'tis for them to tell their story, my son.\nTHESEUS To thee, in thy mantle muffled, I address my inquiries; thy\nhead, let lamentation be, and speak; for naught can be achieved save\nthrough the utterance of thy tongue.\nADRASTUS (rising) Victorious prince of the Athenian realm, Theseus,\nto thee and to thy city I, a suppliant, come.\nTHESEUS What seekest thou? What need is thine?\nADRASTUS Dost know how I did lead an expedition to its ruin?\nTHESEUS Assuredly; thou didst not pass through Hellas, all in silence.\nADRASTUS There I lost the pick of Argos' sons.\nTHESEUS These are the results of that unhappy war.\nADRASTUS I went and craved their bodies from Thebes.\nTHESEUS Didst thou rely on heralds, Hermes' servants, in order to\nbury them?\nADRASTUS I did; and even then their slayers said me nay.\nTHESEUS Why, what say they to thy just request?\nADRASTUS Say! Success makes them forget how to bear their fortune.\nTHESEUS Art come to me then for counsel? or wherefore?\nADRASTUS With the wish that thou, O Theseus, shouldst recover the\nsons of the Argives.\nTHESEUS Where is your Argos now? were its vauntings all in vain?\nADRASTUS Defeat and ruin are our lot. To thee for aid we come.\nTHESEUS Is this thy own private resolve, or the wish of all the city?\nADRASTUS The sons of Danaus, one and all, implore thee to bury the\ndead.\nTHESEUS Why didst lead thy seven armies against Thebes?\nADRASTUS To confer that favour on the husbands of my daughters twain.\nTHESEUS To which of the Argives didst thou give thy daughters in\nmarriage?\nADRASTUS I made no match for them with kinsmen of my family.\nTHESEUS What! didst give Argive maids to foreign lords?\nADRASTUS Yea, to Tydeus, and to Polyneices, who was Theban-born\nTHESEUS What induced thee to select this alliance?\nADRASTUS Dark riddles of Phoebus stole away my judgment.\nTHESEUS What said Apollo to determine the maidens' marriage?\nADRASTUS That I should give my daughters twain to a wild boar and\na lion.\nTHESEUS How dost thou explain the message of the god?\nADRASTUS One night came to my door two exiles.\nTHESEUS The name of each declare: thou art speaking of both together.\nADRASTUS They fought together, Tydeus with Polyneices.\nTHESEUS Didst thou give thy daughters to them as to wild beasts?\nADRASTUS Yea, for, as they fought, I likened them to those monsters\ntwain.\nTHESEUS Why had they left the borders of their native land and come\nto thee?\nADRASTUS Tydeus was exiled for the murder of a kinsman.\nTHESEUS Wherefore had the son of Oedipus left Thebes?\nADRASTUS By reason of his father's curse, not to spill his brother's\nblood.\nTHESEUS Wise no doubt that voluntary exile.\nADRASTUS But those who stayed at home were for injuring the absent.\nTHESEUS What! did brother rob brother of his inheritance?\nADRASTUS To avenge this I set out; hence my ruin.\nTHESEUS Didst consult seers, and gaze into the flame of burnt-offerings?\nADRASTUS Ah me! thou pressest on the very point wherein I most did\nfail.\nTHESEUS It seems thy going was not favoured by heaven.\nADRASTUS Worse; I went in spite even of Amphiaraus.\nTHESEUS And so heaven lightly turned its face from thee.\nADRASTUS I was carried away by the clamour of younger men.\nTHESEUS Thou didst favour courage instead of discretion.\nADRASTUS True; and many a general owes defeat to that. O king of\nAthens, bravest of the sons of Hellas, I blush to throw myself upon\nthe ground and clasp thy knees, I a grey-haired king, blest in days\ngone by; yet needs must yield to my misfortunes. I pray thee save\nthe dead; have pity on my sorrows and on these, the mothers of the\nslain, whom hoary eld finds reft of their sons; yet they endured to\njourney hither and tread a foreign soil with aged tottering steps,\nbearing no embassy to Demeter's mysteries; only seeking burial for\ntheir dead, which lot should have been theirs, e'en burial by the\nhands of sons still in their prime. And 'tis wise in the rich to see\nthe poor man's poverty, and in the poor man to turn ambitious eyes\ntoward the rich, that so he may himself indulge a longing for possessions;\nand they, whom fortune frowns not on, should gaze on misery's presentment;\nlikewise, who maketh songs should take a pleasure in their making;\nfor if it be not so with him, he will in no wise avail to gladden\nothers, if himself have sorrow in his home; nay, 'tis not even right\nto expect it. Mayhap thou'lt say, \"Why pass the land of Pelops o'er,\nand lay this toil on Athens?\" This am I bound to declare. Sparta is\ncruel, her customs variable; the other states are small and weak.\nThy city alone would be able to undertake this labour; for it turns\nan eye on suffering, and hath in thee a young and gallant king, for\nwant whereof to lead their hosts states ere now have often perished.\nLEADER OF THE CHORUS I too, Theseus, urge the same plea to thee;\nhave pity on my hard fate.\nTHESEUS Full oft have I argued out this subject with others. For\nthere are who say, there is more bad than good in human nature, to\nthe which I hold contrary view, that good o'er bad predominates in\nman, for if it were not so, we should not exist. He hath my praise,\nwhoe'er of gods brought us to live by rule from chaos and from brutishness,\nfirst by implanting reason, and next by giving us a tongue to declare\nour thoughts, so as to know the meaning of what is said, bestowing\nfruitful crops, and drops of rain from heaven to make them grow, wherewith\nto nourish earth's fruits and to water her lap; and more than this,\nprotection from the wintry storm, and means to ward from us the sun-god's\nscorching heat; the art of sailing o'er the sea, so that we might\nexchange with one another whatso our countries lack. And where sight\nfails us and our knowledge is not sure, the seer foretells by gazing\non the flame, by reading signs in folds of entrails, or by divination\nfrom the flight of birds. Are we not then to proud, when heaven hath\nmade such preparation for our life, not to be content therewith? But\nour presumption seeks to lord it over heaven, and in the pride of\nour hearts we think we are wiser than the gods. Methinks thou art\neven of this number, a son of folly, seeing that thou, though obedient\nto Apollo's oracle in giving thy daughters to strangers, as if gods\nreally existed, yet hast hurt thy house by mingling the stream of\nits pure line with muddy waters; no! never should the wise man have\njoined the stock of just and unjust in one, but should have gotten\nprosperous friends for his family. For the deity, confusing their\ndestinies, doth oft destroy by the sinner's fate him who never sinned\nnor committed injustice. Thou didst lead all Argos forth to battle,\nthough seers proclaimed the will of heaven, and then in scorn of them\nand in violent disregard of the gods hast ruined thy city, led away\nby younger men, such as court distinction, and add war to war unrighteously,\ndestroying their fellow-citizens; one aspires to lead an army; another\nfain would seize the reins of power and work his wanton will; a third\nis bent on gain, careless of any ill the people thereby suffer. For\nthere are three ranks of citizens; the rich, a useless set, that ever\ncrave for more; the poor and destitute, fearful folk, that cherish\nenvy more than is right, and shoot out grievous stings against the\nmen who have aught, beguiled as they are by the eloquence of vicious\nleaders; while the class that is midmost of the three preserveth cities,\nobserving such order as the state ordains. Shall I then become thy\nally? What fair pretext should I urge before my countrymen? Depart\nin peace! For why shouldst thou, having been ill-advised thyself,\nseek to drag our fortune down?\nLEADER He erred; but with the young men rests this error, while he\nmay well be pardoned.\nADRASTUS I did not choose thee, king, to judge my affliction, but\ncame to thee to cure it; no! nor if in aught my fortunes prove me\nwrong, came I to the to punish or correct them, but to seek thy help.\nBut if thou wilt not, must be content with thy decision; for how can\nI help it? Come, aged dames, away! Yet leave behind you here the woven\nleaves of pale green foliage, calling to witness heaven and earth,\nDemeter, that fire-bearing goddess, and the sun-god's light, that\nour prayers to heaven availed us naught.\nCHORUS (singing) ...who was Pelops' son, and we are of the land\nof Pelops and share with thee the blood of ancestors. What art thou\ndoing? wilt thou betray these suppliant symbols, and banish from thy\nland these aged women without the boon they should obtain? Do not\nso; e'en the wild beast finds a refuge in the rock, the slave in the\naltars of the gods, and a state when tempest-tossed cowers to its\nneighbour's shelter; for naught in this life of man is blest unto\nits end.\nRise, hapless one, from the sacred floor of Persephone; rise, clasp\nhim by the knees and implore him, \"O recover the bodies of our dead\nsons, the children that I lost-ah, woe is me!-beneath the walls of\nCadmus' town.\" Ah me! ah me! Take me by the hand, poor aged sufferer\nthat I am, support and guide and raise me up. By thy beard, kind friend,\nglory of Hellas, I do beseech thee, as I clasp thy knees and hands\nin my misery; O pity me as I entreat for my sons with my tale of wretched\nwoe, like some beggar; nor let my sons lie there unburied in the land\nof Cadmus, glad prey for beasts, whilst thou art in thy prime, I implore\nthee. See the teardrop tremble in my eye, as thus I throw me at thy\nknees to win my children burial.\nTHESEUS Mother mine, why weepest thou, drawing o'er thine eyes thy\nveil? Is it because thou didst hear their piteous lamentations? To\nmy own heart it goes. Raise thy silvered head, weep not where thou\nsittest at the holy altar of Demeter.\nAETHRA Ah woe!\nTHESEUS 'Tis not for thee their sorrows to lament.\nAETHRA Ye hapless dames!\nTHESEUS Thou art not of their company.\nAETHRA May I a scheme declare, my son, that shall add to thy glory\nand the state's?\nTHESEUS Yea, for oft even from women's lips issue wise counsels.\nAETHRA Yet the word, that lurks within my heart, makes me hesitate.\nTHESEUS Shame! to hide from friends good counsel.\nAETHRA Nay then, I will not hold my peace to blame myself hereafter\nfor having now kept silence to my shame, nor will I forego my honourable\nproposal, from the common fear that it is useless for women to give\ngood advice. First, my son, I exhort thee give good heed to heaven's\nwill, lest from slighting it thou suffer shipwreck; for in this one\nsingle point thou failest, though well-advised in all else. Further,\nI would have patiently endured, had it not been my duty to venture\nsomewhat for injured folk; and this, my son, it is that brings thee\nnow thy honour, and causes me no fear to urge that thou shouldst use\nthy power to make men of violence, who prevent the dead from receiving\ntheir meed of burial and funeral rites, perform this bounden duty,\nand check those who would confound the customs of all Hellas; for\nthis it is that holds men's states together,-strict observance of\nthe laws. And some, no doubt, will say, 'twas cowardice made thee\nstand aloof in terror, when thou mightest have won for thy city a\ncrown of glory, and, though thou didst encounter a savage swine, labouring\nfor a sorry task, yet when the time came for thee to face the helmet\nand pointed spear, and do thy best, thou wert found to be coward.\nNay! do not so if thou be son of mine. Dost see how fiercely thy country\nlooks on its revilers when they mock her for want of counsel? Yea,\nfor in her toils she groweth greater. But states, whose policy is\ndark and cautious, have their sight darkened by their carefulness.\nMy son, wilt thou not go succour the dead and these poor women in\ntheir need? have no fears for thee, starting as thou dost with right\nupon thy side; and although I see the prosperity of Cadmus' folk,\nstill am I confident they will throw a different die; for the deity\nreverses all things again.\nLEADER OF THE CHORUS Ah! best of friends, right well hast thou pleaded\nfor me and for Adrastus, and hence my joy is doubled.\nTHESEUS Mother, the words that I have spoken are his fair deserts,\nand I have declared my opinion of the counsels that ruined him; yet\ndo I perceive the truth of thy warning to me, that it ill suits my\ncharacter to shun dangers. For by a long and glorious career have\nI displayed this my habit among Hellenes, of ever punishing the wicked.\nWherefore I cannot refuse toil. For what will spiteful tongues say\nof me, when thou, my mother, who more than all others fearest for\nmy safety, bidst me undertake this enterprise? Yea, I will go about\nthis business and rescue the dead by words persuasive; or, failing\nthat, the spear forthwith shall decide this issue, nor will heaven\ngrudge me this. But I require the whole city's sanction also, which\nmy mere wish will ensure; still by communicating the proposal to them\nI shall find the people better disposed. For them I made supreme,\nwhen I set this city free, by giving all an equal vote. So I will\ntake Adrastus as a text for what I have to say and go to their assembly,\nand when have won them to these views, I will return hither, after\ncollecting a picked band of young Athenians; and then remaining under\narms I will send a message to Creon, begging the bodies of the dead.\nBut do ye, aged ladies, remove from my mother your holy wreaths, that\nI may take her by the hand and conduct her to the house of Aegeus;\nfor a wretched son is he who rewards not his parents by service; for,\nwhen he hath conferred on them the best he hath, he in his turn from\nhis own sons receives all such service as he gave to them. (AETHRA\nleaves the altar and departs.)\nCHORUS (singing, strophe)\nO Argos, home of steeds, my native land! ye have heard with your\nears these words, the king's pious will toward the gods in the sight\nof great Pelasgia and throughout Argos.\n(antistrophe 1)\nMay he reach the goal! yea, and triumph o'er my sorrows, rescuing\nthe gory corpse, the mother's idol and making the land of Inachus\nhis friend by helping her.\n(strophe 2)\nFor pious toil is a fair ornament to cities, and carries with it\ngrace that never wastes away. What will the city decide, I wonder?\nWill it conclude a friendly truce with me, and shall we obtain burial\nfor our sons?\n(antistrophe 2)\nHelp, O help, city of Pallas, the mother's cause, that so they may\nnot pollute the laws of all mankind. Thou, I know, dost reverence\nright, and to injustice dealest out defeat, a protection at all times\nto the afflicted. (THESEUS addresses one of his own heralds. As he\nspeaks, the HERALD from King Creon of Thebes enters.)\nTHESEUS Forasmuch as with this thy art thou hast ever served the\nstate and me by carrying my proclamations far and wide, so now cross\nAsopus and the waters of Ismenus, and declare this message to the\nhaughty king of the Cadmeans: \"Theseus, thy neighbour, one who well\nmay win the boon he craves, begs as a favour thy permission to bury\nthe dead, winning to thyself thereby the love of all the Erechtheidae.\"\nAnd if they will acquiesce, come back again, but if they hearken not,\nthy second message runneth thus, they may expect my warrior host;\nfor at the sacred fount of Callichorus my army camps in readiness\nand is being reviewed. Moreover, the city gladly of its own accord\nundertook this enterprise, when it perceived my wish. Ha! who comes\nhither to interrupt my speech? A Theban herald, so it seems, though\nI am not sure thereof. Stay; haply he may save the thy trouble. For\nby his coming he meets my purpose half-way.\nTHEBAN HERALD Who is the despot of this land? To whom must I announce\nthe message of Creon, who rules o'er the land of Cadmus, since Eteocles\nwas slain by the hand of his brother Polyneices, at the sevenfold\ngates of Thebes?\nTHESEUS Sir stranger, thou hast made a false beginning to thy speech,\nin seeking here a despot. For this city is not ruled by one man, but\nis free. The people rule in succession year by year, allowing no preference\nto wealth, but the poor man shares equally with the rich.\nTHEBAN HERALD Thou givest me here an advantage, as it might be in\na game of draughts; for the city, whence I come, is ruled by one man\nonly, not by the mob; none there puffs up the citizens with specious\nwords, and for his own advantage twists them this way or that,-one\nmoment dear to them and lavish of his favours, the next a bane to\nall; and yet by fresh calumnies of others he hides his former failures\nand escapes punishment. Besides, how shall the people, if it cannot\nform true judgments, be able rightly to direct the state? Nay, 'tis\ntime, not haste, that affords a better understanding. A poor hind,\ngranted be he not all unschooled, would still be unable from his toil\nto give his mind to politics. Verily the better sort count it no healthy\nsign when the worthless man obtains a reputation by beguiling with\nwords the populace, though aforetime he was naught.\nTHESEUS This herald is a clever fellow, a dabbler in the art of talk.\nBut since thou hast thus entered the lists with me, listen awhile,\nfor 'twas thou didst challenge a discussion. Naught is more hostile\nto a city than a despot; where he is, there are first no laws common\nto all, but one man is tyrant, in whose keeping and in his alone the\nlaw resides, and in that case equality is at an end. But when the\nlaws are written down, rich and poor alike have equal justice, and\nit is open to the weaker to use the same language to the prosperous\nwhen he is reviled by him, and the weaker prevails over the stronger\nif he have justice on his side. Freedom's mark is also seen in this:\n\"Who hath wholesome counsel to declare unto the state?\" And he who\nchooses to do so gains renown, while he, who hath no wish, remains\nsilent. What greater equality can there be in a city? Again, where\nthe people are absolute rulers of the land, they rejoice in having\nreserve of youthful citizens, while a king counts this a hostile element,\nand strives to slay the leading men, all such as he deems discreet,\nfor he feareth for his power. How then can a city remain stable, where\none cuts short all enterprise and mows down the young like meadow-flowers\nin spring-time? What boots it to acquire wealth and livelihood for\nchildren, merely to add to the tyrant's substance by one's toil? Why\ntrain up virgin daughters virtuously in our homes to gratify a tyrant's\nwhim, whenso he will, and cause tears to those who rear them? May\nmy life end if ever my children are to be wedded by violence! This\nbolt I launch in answer to thy words. Now say, why art thou come?\nwhat needest thou of this land? Had not thy city sent thee, to thy\ncost hadst thou come with thy outrageous utterances; for it is the\nherald's duty to tell the message he is bidden and hie him back in\nhaste. Henceforth let Creon send to my city some other messenger less\ntalkative than thee.\nLEADER OF THE CHORUS Look you! how insolent the villains are, when\nFortune is kind to them, just as if it would be well with them for\never.\nTHEBAN HERALD Now will I speak. On these disputed points hold thou\nthis view, but the contrary. So I and all the people of Cadmus forbid\nthee to admit Adrastus to this land, but if he is here, drive him\nforth in disregard of the holy suppliant bough he bears, ere sinks\nyon blazing sun, and attempt not violently to take up the dead, seeing\nthou hast naught to do with the city of Argos. And if thou wilt hearken\nto me, thou shalt bring thy barque of state into port unharmed by\nthe billows; but if not, fierce shall the surge of battle be, that\nwe and our allies shall raise. Take good thought, nor, angered at\nmy words, because forsooth thou rulest thy city with freedom, return\na vaunting answer from thy feebler means. Hope is man's curse; many\na state hath it involved in strife, by leading them into excessive\nrage. For whenso the city has to vote on the question of war, no man\never takes his own death into account, but shifts this misfortune\non to his neighbour; but if death had been before their eyes when\nthey were giving their votes, Hellas would ne'er have rushed to her\ndoom in mad desire for battle. And yet each man amongst us knows which\nof the two to prefer, the good or ill, and how much better peace is\nfor mankind than war,-peace, the Muses' chiefest friend, the foe of\nsorrow, whose joy is in glad throngs of children, and its delight\nin prosperity. These are the blessings we cast away and wickedly embark\non war, man enslaving his weaker brother, and cities following suit.\nNow thou art helping our foes even after death, trying to rescue and\nbury those whom their own acts of insolence have ruined. Verily then\nit would seem Capaneus was unjustly blasted by the thunderbolt and\ncharred upon the ladder he had raised against our gates, swearing\nhe would sack our town, whether the god would or no; nor should the\nyawning earth have snatched away the seer, opening wide her mouth\nto take his chariot and its horses in, nor should the other chieftains\nbe stretched at our gates, their skeletons to atoms crushed 'neath\nboulders. Either boast thy wit transcendeth that of Zeus, or else\nallow that gods are right to slay the ungodly. The wise should love\ntheir children first, next their parents and country, whose fortunes\nit behoves them to increase rather than break down. Rashness in a\nleader, as in a pilot, causeth shipwreck; who knoweth when to be quiet\nis a wise man. Yea and this too is bravery, even forethought.\nLEADER The punishment Zeus hath inflicted was surely enough; there\nwas no need to heap this wanton insult on us.\nADRASTUS Abandoned wretch!\nTHESEUS Peace, Adrastus! say no more; set not thy words before mine,\nfor 'tis not to thee this fellow is come with his message, but to\nme, and I must answer him. Thy first assertion will I answer first:\nI am not aware that Creon is my lord and master, or that his power\noutweigheth mine, that so he should compel Athens to act on this wise;\nnay! for then would the tide of time have to flow backward, if we\nare to be ordered, as he thinks. 'Tis not I who choose this war, seeing\nthat I did not even join these warriors to go unto the land of Cadmus;\nbut still I claim to bury the fallen dead, not injuring any state\nnor yet introducing murderous strife, but preserving the law of all\nHellas. What is not well in this? If ye suffered aught from the Argives-lo!\nthey are dead; ye took a splendid vengeance on your foes and covered\nthem with shame, and now your right is at an end. Let the dead now\nbe buried in the earth, and each element return to the place from\nwhence it came to the body, the breath to the air, the body to the\nground; for in no wise did we get it for our own, but to live our\nlife in, and after that its mother earth must take it back again.\nDost think 'tis Argos thou art injuring in refusing burial to the\ndead? Nay! all Hellas shares herein, if a man rob the dead of their\ndue and keep them from the tomb; for, if this law be enacted, it will\nstrike dismay into the stoutest hearts. And art thou come to cast\ndire threats at me while thy own folk are afraid of giving burial\nto the dead? What is your fear? Think you they will undermine your\nland in their graves, or that they will beget children in the womb\nof earth, from whom shall rise an avenger? A silly waste of words,\nin truth it was, to show your fear of paltry groundless terrors. Go,\ntriflers, learn the lesson of human misery; our life is made up of\nstruggles; some men there be that find their fortune soon, others\nhave to wait, while some at once are blest. Fortune lives a dainty\nlife; to her the wretched pays his court and homage to win her smile;\nher likewise doth the prosperous man extol, for fear the favouring\ngale may leave him. These lessons should we take to heart, to bear\nwith moderation, free from wrath, our wrongs, and do naught to hurt\na whole city. What then? Let us, who will the pious deed perform,\nbury the corpses of the slain. Else is the issue clear; I will go\nand bury them by force. For never shall it be proclaimed through Hellas\nthat heaven's ancient law was set at naught, when it devolved on me\nand the city of Pandion.\nLEADER Be of good cheer; for if thou preserve the light of justice,\nthou shalt escape many a charge that men might urge.\nTHEBAN HERALD Wilt thou that I sum up in brief all thou wouldst say?\nTHESEUS Say what thou wilt; for thou art not silent as it is.\nTHEBAN HERALD Thou shalt never take the sons of Argos from our land.\nTHESEUS Hear, then, my answer too to that, if so thou wilt.\nTHEBAN HERALD I will hear thee; not that I wish it, but I must give\nthee thy turn.\nTHESEUS I will bury the dead, when from Asopus' land I have removed\nthem.\nTHEBAN HERALD First must thou adventure somewhat in the front of\nwar.\nTHESEUS Many an enterprise and of a different kind have I ere this\nendured.\nTHEBAN HERALD Wert thou then begotten of thy sire to cope with every\nfoe?\nTHESEUS Ay, with all wanton villains; virtue I punish not.\nTHEBAN HERALD To meddle is aye thy wont and thy city's too.\nTHESEUS Hence her enterprise on many a field hath won her many blessings.\nTHEBAN HERALD Come then, that the warriors of the dragon-crop may\ncatch thee in our city.\nTHESEUS What furious warrior-host could spring from dragon's seed?\nTHEBAN HERALD Thou shalt learn that to thy cost. As yet thou art\nyoung and rash.\nTHESEUS Thy boastful speech stirs not my heart at all to rage. Yet\nget thee gone from my land, taking with thee the idle words thou broughtest;\nfor we are making no advance. (The THEBAN HERALD withdraws.) 'Tis\ntime for all to start, each stout footman, and whoso mounts the car;\n'tis time the bit, dripping with foam, should urge the charger on\ntoward the land of Cadmus. For I will march in person to the seven\ngates thereof with the sharp sword in my hand, and be myself my herald.\nBut thee, Adrastus, I bid stay, nor blend with mine thy fortunes,\nfor I will take my own good star to lead my host, a chieftain famed\nin famous deeds of arms. One thing alone I need, the favour of all\ngods that reverence right, for the presence of these things insures\nvictory. For their valour availeth men naught, unless they have the\ngod's goodwill. (THESEUS and his retinue depart. The following lines\nbetween the SEMI-CHORUSES are chanted responsively.)\nFIRST SEMI-CHORUS Unhappy mothers of those hapless chiefs! How wildly\nin my heart pale fear stirs up alarm!\nSECOND SEMI-CHORUS What is this new cry thou utterest?\nFIRST SEMI-CHORUS I fear the issue of the strife, whereto the hosts\nof Pallas march.\nSECOND SEMI-CHORUS Dost speak of issues of the sword, or interchange\nof words?\nFIRST SEMI-CHORUS That last were gain indeed; but if the carnage\nof battle, fighting, and the noise of beaten breasts again be heard\nin the land, what, alas! will be said of me, who am the cause thereof?\nSECOND SEMI-CHORUS Yet may fate again bring low the brilliant victor;\n'tis this brave thought that twines about my heart.\nFIRST SEMI-CHORUS Thou speak'st of the gods as if they were just.\nSECOND SEMI-CHORUS For who but they allot whate'er betides?\nFIRST SEMI-CHORUS I see much at variance in their dealings with men.\nSECOND SEMI-CHORUS The former fear hath warped thy judgment. Vengeance\ncalls vengeance forth; slaughter calls for slaughter, but the gods\ngive respite from affliction, holding in their own hands each thing's\nallotted end.\nFIRST SEMI-CHORUS Would I could reach yon plains with turrets crowned,\nleaving Callichorus, fountain of the goddess!\nSECOND SEMI-CHORUS O that some god would give me wings to fly to\nthe city of rivers twain!\nFIRST SEMI-CHORUS So might'st thou see and know the fortunes of thy\nfriends.\nSECOND SEMI-CHORUS What fate, what issue there awaits the valiant\nmonarch of this land?\nFIRST SEMI-CHORUS Once more do we invoke the gods we called upon\nbefore; yea, in our fear this is our first and chiefest trust.\nSECOND SEMI-CHORUS O Zeus, father to the child the heifer-mother\nbore in days long past, that daughter of Inachus!\nFIRST SEMI-CHORUS O be gracious, I pray, and champion this city!\nSECOND SEMI-CHORUS 'Tis thy own darling, thy own settler in the city\nof Argos that I am striving from outrage to rescue for the funeral\npyre. (A MESSENGER enters.)\nMESSENGER Ladies, I bring you tidings of great joy, myself escaped-for\nI was taken prisoner in the battle which cost those chieftains seven\ntheir lives near Dirce's fount-to bear the news of Theseus' victory.\nBut I will save thee tedious questioning; I was the servant of Capaneus,\nwhom Zeus with scorching bolt to ashes burnt.\nLEADER OF THE CHORUS Friend of friends, fair thy news of thy own\nreturn, nor less the news about Theseus; and if the host of Athens,\ntoo, is safe, welcome will all thy message be.\nMESSENGER 'Tis safe, and all hath happened as I would it had befallen\nAdrastus and his Argives, whom from Inachus he led, to march against\nthe city of the Cadmeans.\nLEADER How did the son of Aegeus and his fellow-warriors raise their\ntrophy to Zeus? Tell us, for thou wert there and canst gladden us\nwho were not.\nMESSENGER Bright shone the sun, one levelled line of light, upon\nthe world, as by Electra's gate I stood to watch, from a turret with\na far outlook. And lo! I saw the host in three divisions, deploying\nits mail-clad warriors on the high ground by the banks of Ismenus;\nthis last I heard; and with them was the king himself, famous son\nof Aegeus; his own men, natives of old Cecropia, were ranged upon\nthe right; while on the left, hard by the fountain of Ares, were the\ndwellers by the sea, harnessed spearmen they; on either wing were\nposted cavalry, in equal numbers, and chariots were stationed in the\nshelter of Amphion's holy tomb. Meantime, the folk of Cadmus set themselves\nbefore the walls, placing in the rear the bodies for which they fought.\nHorse to horse, and car to car stood ranged. Then did the herald of\nTheseus cry aloud to all: \"Be still, ye folk! hush, ye ranks of Cadmus,\nhearken! we are come to fetch the bodies of the slain, wishing to\nbury them in observance of the universal law of Hellas; no wish have\nwe to lengthen out the slaughter.\" Not a word would Creon let his\nherald answer back, but there he stood in silence under arms. Then\ndid the drivers of the four-horse cars begin the fray; on, past each\nother they drave their chariots, bringing the warriors at their sides\nup into line. Some fought with swords, some wheeled the horses back\nto the fray again for those they drove. Now when Phorbas, who captained\nthe cavalry of the Erechtheidae, saw the thronging chariots, he and\nthey who had the charge of the Theban horse met hand to hand, and\nby turns were victors and vanquished. The many horrors happening there\nI saw, not merely heard about, for I was at the spot where the chariots\nand their riders met and fought, but which to tell of first I know\nnot,-the clouds of dust that mounted to the sky, the warriors tangled\nin the reins and dragged this way and that, the streams of crimson\ngore, when men fell dead, or when, from shattered chariot-seats, they\ntumbled headlong to the ground, and, amid the splinters of their cars,\ngave up the ghost. But Creon, when he marked our cavalry's success\non one wing, caught up a shield and rushed into the fray, ere that\ndespondency should seize his men; but not for that did Theseus recoil\nin fear; no! snatching up at once his glittering harnes he hied him\non. And the twain, clashing their shields together as they met in\nthe midst of the assembled host, were dealing death and courting it,\nshouting loudly each to his fellow the battle-cry: \"Slay, and with\nthy spear strike home against the sons of Erechtheus.\" Fierce foes\nto cope with were the warriors whom the dragon's teeth to manhood\nreared; so fierce, they broke our left wing, albeit theirs was routed\nby our right and put to flight, so that the struggle was evenly balanced.\nHere again our chief deserved all praise, for this success was not\nthe only one he gained; no! next he sought that part of his army which\nwas wavering; and loud he called to them, that the earth rang again,\n\"My sons, if ye cannot restrain the earth-born warriors' stubborn\nspear, the cause of Pallas is lost.\" His word inspired new courage\nin all the Danaid host. Therewith himself did seize a fearsome mace,\nweapon of Epidaurian warfare, and swung it to and fro, and with that\nclub, as with a sickle, he shore off necks and heads and helmets thereupon.\nScarce even then they turned themselves to fly. I cried aloud for\njoy, and danced and clapped my hands; while to the gates they ran.\nThroughout the town echoed the shrieks of young and old, as they crowded\nthe temples in terror. But Theseus, when he might have come inside\nthe walls, held back his men, for he had not come, said he, to sack\nthe town, but to ask for the bodies of the dead. Such the general\nmen should choose, one who shows his bravery in danger, yet hates\nthe pride of those that in their hour of fortune lose the bliss they\nmight have enjoyed, through seeking to scale the ladder's topmost\nstep.\nLEADER Now do I believe in the gods after seeing this unexpected\nday, and feel my woes are lighter now that these have paid their penalty.\nADRASTUS O Zeus, why do men assert the wisdom of the wretched human\nrace? On thee we all depend, and all we do is only what thou listest.\nWe thought our Argos irresistible, ourselves a young and lusty host,\nand so when Eteocles was for making terms, in spite of his fair offer\nwe would not accept them, and so we perished. Then in their turn those\nfoolish folk of Cadmus, to fortune raised, like some beggar with his\nnewly-gotten wealth, waxed wanton, and, waxing so, were ruined in\ntheir turn. Ye foolish sons of men! who strain your bow like men who\nshoot beyond their mark, and only by suffering many evils as ye deserve,\nthough deaf to friends, yet yield to circumstances; ye cities likewise,\nthough ye might by parley end your ills, yet ye choose the sword instead\nof reason to settle all disputes. But wherefore these reflections?\nThis I fain would learn, the way thou didst escape; and after that\nI will ask thee of the rest.\nMESSENGER During the uproar which prevailed in the city owing to\nthe battle, I passed the gates, just as the host had entered them.\nADRASTUS Are ye bringing the bodies, for the which the strife arose?\nMESSENGER Ay, each of the seven chiefs who led their famous hosts.\nADRASTUS What sayest thou? the rest who fell-say, where are they?\nMESSENGER They have found burial in the dells of Cithaeron.\nADRASTUS On this or that side of the mount? And who did bury them?\nMESSENGER Theseus buried them 'neath the shadow of Eleutherae's cliff.\nADRASTUS Where didst thou leave the dead he hath not buried?\nMESSENGER Not far away; earnest haste makes every goal look close.\nADRASTUS No doubt in sorrow slaves would gather them from the carnage.\nMESSENGER Slaves! not one of them was set to do this toil.\n(A speech belonging to ADRASTUS has been lost.)\nMESSENGER Thou wouldst say so, hadst thou been there to see his loving\ntendance of the dead.\nADRASTUS Did he himself wash the bloody wounds of the hapless youths?\nMESSENGER Ay, and strewed their biers and wrapped them in their shrouds.\nADRASTUS An awful burden this, involving some disgrace.\nMESSENGER Why, what disgrace to men are their fellows' sorrows?\nADRASTUS Ah me! how much rather had I died with them!\nMESSENGER 'Tis vain to weep and move to tears these women.\nADRASTUS Methinks 'tis they who give the lesson. Enough of that!\nMy hands lift at meeting of the dead, and pour forth a tearful dirge\nto Hades, calling on my friends, whose loss I mourn in wretched solitude;\nfor this one thing, when once 'tis spent, man cannot recover, the\nbreath of life, though he knoweth ways to get his wealth again.\nCHORUS (singing, strophe)\nJoy is here and sorrow too,-for the state fair fame, and for our\ncaptains double meed of honour. Bitter for me it is to see the limbs\nof my dead sons, and yet a welcome sight withal, because I shall behold\nthe unexpected day after sorrow's cup was full.\n(antistrophe)\nWould that Father Time had kept me unwed from my youth up e'en till\nnow when I am old! What need had I of children? Methinks I should\nnot have suffered overmuch, had I never borne the marriage-yoke; but\nnow I have my sorrow full in view, the loss of children dear.\nLo! I see the bodies of the fallen youths. Woe is me! would I could\njoin these children in their death and descend to Hades with them!\n(THESEUS and his soldiers enter, carrying the corpses of the slain\nchieftains. ADRASTUS and the CHORUS chant the lament responsively.)\nADRASTUS Mothers, raise the wail for the dead departed; cry in answer\nwhen ye hear my note of woe.\nCHORUS My sons, my sons! O bitter words for loving mothers to address\nto you! To thee, my lifeless child, I call.\nADRASTUS Woe! woe!\nCHORUS Ah me, my sufferings!\nADRASTUS Alas! We have endured, alas!-\nCHORUS Sorrows most grievous.\nADRASTUS O citizens of Argos! do ye not behold my fate?\nCHORUS They see thee, and me the hapless mother, reft of her children.\nADRASTUS Bring near the blood-boltered corpses of those hapless chiefs,\nfoully slain by foes unworthy, with whom lay the decision of the contest.\nCHORUS Let me embrace and hold my children to my bosom in my enfolding\narms.\nADRASTUS There, there! thou hast-\nCHORUS Sorrows heavy enough to bear.\nADRASTUS Ah me!\nCHORUS Thy groans mingle with those of their parents.\nADRASTUS Hear me.\nCHORUS O'er both of us thou dost lament.\nADRASTUS Would God the Theban ranks had laid me dead in the dust!\nCHORUS Oh that I had ne'er been wedded to a husband!\nADRASTUS Ah! hapless mothers, behold this sea of troubles!\nCHORUS Our nails have ploughed our cheeks in furrows, and o'er our\nheads have we strewn ashes.\nADRASTUS Ah me! ah me! Oh that earth's floor would swallow me, or\nthe whirlwind snatch me away, or Zeus's flaming bolt descend upon\nmy head!\nCHORUS Bitter the marriages thou didst witness, bitter the oracle\nof Phoebus! The curse of Oedipus, fraught with sorrow, after desolating\nhis house, is come on thee.\nTHESEUS I meant to question thee when thou wert venting thy lamentations\nto the host, but I will let it pass; yet, though I dropped the matter\nthen and left it alone, I now do ask Adrastus, \"Of what lineage sprang\nthose youths, to shine so bright in chivalry?\" Tell it to our younger\ncitizens of thy fuller wisdom, for thou art skilled to know. Myself\nbeheld their daring deeds, too high for words to tell, whereby they\nthought to capture Thebes. One question will I spare thee, lest I\nprovoke thy laughter; the foe that each of them encountered in the\nfray, the spear from which each received his death-wound. These be\nidle tales alike for those who hear or him who speaks, that any man\namid the fray, when clouds of darts are hurtling before his eyes,\nshould declare for certain who each champion is. I could not ask such\nquestions, nor yet believe those who dare assert the like; for when\na man is face to face with the foe, he scarce can see even that which\n'tis his bounden duty to observe.\nADRASTUS Hearken then. For in giving this task to me thou findest\na willing eulogist of friends, whose praise I would declare in all\ntruth and sincerity. Dost see yon corpse by Zeus's bolt transfixed?\nThat is Capaneus; though he had ample wealth, yet was he the last\nto boast of his prosperity; nor would he ever vaunt himself above\na poorer neighbour, but shunned the man whose sumptuous board had\npuffed him up too high and made him scorn mere competence, for he\nheld that virtue lies not in greedy gluttony, but that moderate means\nsuffice. True friend was he, alike to present or to absent friends\nthe same; of such the number is not great. His was guileless character,\na courteous address, that left no promise unperformed either towards\nhis own household or his fellow-citizens. The next I name is Eteoclus;\na master he of other kinds of excellence; young, nor richly dowered\nwith store, yet high in honour in the Argive land. And though his\nfriends oft offered gifts of gold, he would not have it in his house,\nto make his character its slave by taking wealth's yoke upon him.\nNot his city, but those that sinned against her did he hate, for a\ncity is no wise to be blamed if it get an evil name by reason of an\nevil governor. Such another was Hippomedon, third of all this band;\nfrom his very boyhood he refrained from turning towards the allurements\nof the Muses, to lead life of ease; his home was in the fields, and\ngladly would he school his nature to hardships with a view to manliness,\naye hasting to the chase, rejoicing in his steeds or straining of\nhis bow, because he would make himself of use unto his state. Next\nbehold the huntress Atalanta's son, Parthenopaeus, a youth of peerless\nbeauty; from Arcady he came even to the streams of Inachus, and in\nArgos spent his boyhood. There, when he grew to man's estate, first,\nas is the duty of strangers settled in another land, he showed no\npique or jealousy against the state, became no quibbler, chiefest\nsource of annoyance citizen or stranger can give, but took his stand\namid the host, and fought for Argos as he were her own son, glad at\nheart whenso the city prospered, deeply grieved if e'er reverses came;\nmany a lover though he had midst men and maids, yet was he careful\nto avoid offence. Of Tydeus next the lofty praise I will express in\nbrief; no brilliant spokesman he, but a clever craftsman in the art\nof war, with many a shrewd device; inferior in judgment to his brother\nMeleager, yet through his warrior skill lending his name to equal\npraise, for he had found in arms a perfect science; his was an ambitious\nnature, a spirit rich in store of deeds, with words less fully dowered.\nFrom this account then wonder not, Theseus, that they dared to die\nbefore the towers; for noble nurture carries honour with it, and every\nman, when once he hath practised virtue, scorns the name of villain.\nCourage may be learnt, for even a babe doth learn to speak and hear\nthings it cannot comprehend; and whatso'er a child hath learnt, this\nit is his wont to treasure up till he is old. So train up your children\nin a virtuous way.\nCHORUS (chanting) Alas! my son, to sorrow I bare thee and carried\nthee within my womb, enduring the pangs of travail; but now Hades\ntakes the fruit of all my hapless toil, and I that had a son am left,\nah me! with none to nurse my age.\nTHESEUS As for the noble son of Oecleus, him, while yet he lived,\nthe gods snatched hence to the bowels of the earth, and his chariot\ntoo, manifestly blessing him; while I myself may truthfully tell the\npraises of the son of Oedipus, that is, Polyneices, for he was my\nguest-friend ere he left the town of Cadmus and crossed to Argos in\nvoluntary exile. But dost thou know what I would have thee do in this?\nADRASTUS I know naught save this,-to yield obedience to thy hests.\nTHESEUS As for yon Capaneus, stricken by the bolt of Zeus-\nADRASTUS Wilt bury him apart as a consecrated corpse?\nTHESEUS Even so; but all the rest on one funeral pyre.\nADRASTUS Where wilt thou set the tomb apart for him?\nTHESEUS Here near this temple have I builded him a sepulchre.\nADRASTUS Thy thralls forthwith must undertake this toil.\nTHESEUS Myself will look to those others; let the biers advance.\nADRASTUS Approach your sons, unhappy mothers.\nTHESEUS This thy proposal, Adrastus, is anything but good.\nADRASTUS Must not the mothers touch their sons?\nTHESEUS It would kill them to see how they are altered.\nADRASTUS 'Tis bitter, truly, to see the dead even at the moment of\ndeath.\nTHESEUS Why then wilt thou add fresh grief to them?\nADRASTUS Thou art right. Ye needs must patiently abide, for the words\nof Theseus are good. But when we have committed them unto the flames,\nye shall collect their bones. O wretched sons of men! Why do ye get\nyou weapons and bring slaughter on one another? Cease therefrom, give\no'er your toiling, and in mutual peace keep safe your cities. Short\nis the span of life, so 'twere best to run its course as lightly as\nwe may, from trouble free. (The corpses, followed by the CHILDREN\nof the slain chieftains, are carried off to the pyre which is kindled\nwithin the sight of the persons on the stage.)\nCHORUS (singing, strophe)\nNo more a happy mother I, with children blest; no more I share, among\nArgive women, who have sons, their happy lot; nor any more will Artemis\nin the hour of travail kindly greet these childless mothers. Most\ndreary is my life, and like some wandering cloud drift before the\nhowling blast.\n(antistrophe)\nThe seven noblest sons in Argos once we had, we seven hapless mothers;\nbut now my sons are dead, I have no child, and on me steals old age\nin piteous wise, nor 'mongst the dead nor 'mongst the living do I\ncount myself, having as it were a lot apart from these.\nTears alone are left me; in my house sad memories of my son are stored;\nmournful tresses shorn from his head, chaplets that he wore, libations\nfor the dead departed, and songs, but not such as golden-haired Apollo\nwelcometh; and when I wake to weep, my tears will ever drench the\nfolds of my robe upon my bosom. Ah! there I see the sepulchre ready\ne'en now for Capaneus, his consecrated tomb, and the votive offerings\nTheseus gives unto the dead outside the shrine, and nigh yon lightning-smitten\nchief I see his noble bride, Evadne, daughter of King Iphis. Wherefore\nstands she on the towering rock, which o'ertops this temple, advancing\nalong yon path? (EVADNE is seen on a rock which overhangs the burning\npyre. She is dressed as though for a festival.)\nEVADNE (chanting) What light, what radiancy did the sun-god's car\ndart forth, and the moon athwart the firmament, while round her in\nthe gloom swift stars careered, in the day that the city of Argos\nraised the stately chant of joy at my wedding, in honour of my marriage\nwith mail-clad Capaneus? Now from my home in frantic haste with frenzied\nmind rush to join thee, seeking to share with thee the fire's bright\nflame and the self-same tomb, to rid me of my weary life in Hades'\nhalls, and of the pains of life; yea, for 'tis the sweetest end to\nshare the death of those we love, if only fate will sanction it.\nLEADER OF THE CHORUS Behold yon pyre, which thou art overlooking,\nnigh thereto, set apart for Zeus! There is thy husband's body, vanquished\nby the blazing bolt.\nEVADNE (chanting) Life's goal I now behold from my station here;\nmay fortune aid me in my headlong leap from this rock in honour's\ncause, down into the fire below. to mix my ashes in the ruddy blaze\nwith my husband's, to lay me side by side with him, there in the couch\nof Persephone; for ne'er will to save my life, prove untrue to thee\nwhere thou liest in thy grave. Away with life and marriage too! Oh!\nmay my children live to see the dawn of a fairer, happier wedding-day\nin Argos! May loyalty inspire the husband's heart, his nature fusing\nwith his wife's!\nLEADER Lo! the aged Iphis, thy father, draweth nigh to hear thy startling\nspeech, which yet he knows not and will grieve to learn. (IPHIS enters.)\nIPHIS Unhappy child! lo! I am come, a poor old man, with twofold\nsorrow in my house to mourn, that I may carry to his native land the\ncorpse of my son Eteoclus, slain by the Theban spear, and further\nin quest of my daughter who rushed headlong from the house, for she\nwas the wife of Capaneus and longed with him to die. Ere this she\nwas well guarded in my house, but, when I took the watch away in the\npresent troubles, she escaped. But I feel sure that she is here; tell\nme if ye have seen her.\nEVADNE Why question them? Lo, here upon the rock, father, o'er the\npyre of Capaneus, like some bird I hover lightly, in my wretchedness.\nIPHIS What wind hath blown thee hither, child? Whither thy journey?\nWhy didst thou pass the threshold of my house and seek this land?\nEVADNE It would but anger thee to hear what I intend, and so I fain\nwould keep thee ignorant, my father.\nIPHIS What hath not thy own father a right to know?\nEVADNE Thou wouldst not wisely judge my purpose.\nIPHIS Why dost thou deck thyself in that apparel?\nEVADNE A purport strange this robe conveys, father.\nIPHIS Thou hast no look of mourning for thy lord.\nEVADNE No, the reason why I thus am decked is strange, maybe.\nIPHIS Dost thou in such garb appear before a funeral-pyre?\nEVADNE Yea, for hither it is I come to take the meed of victory.\nIPHIS \"Victory!\" What victory? This would I learn of thee.\nEVADNE A victory o'er all women on whom the sun looks down.\nIPHIS In Athena's handiwork or in prudent counsel?\nEVADNE In bravery; for I will lay me down and die with my lord.\nIPHIS What dost thou say? What is this silly riddle thou propoundest?\nEVADNE To yonder pyre where lies dead Capaneus, I will leap down.\nIPHIS My daughter, speak not thus before the multitude!\nEVADNE The very thing I wish, that every Argive should learn it.\nIPHIS Nay, I will ne'er consent to let thee do this deed.\nEVADNE 'Tis all one; thou shalt never catch me in thy grasp. Lo!\nI cast me down, no joy to thee, but to myself and to my husband blazing\non the pyre with me. (She leaps into the pyre.)\nCHORUS (chanting) O lady, thou hast done a fearful deed!\nIPHIS Ah me! I am undone, ye dames of Argos!\nCHORUS (chanting) Alack, alack! a cruel blow is this to thee, but\nthou must yet witness, poor wretch, the full horror of this deed.\nIPHIS A more unhappy wretch than me ye could not find.\nCHORUS (chanting) Woe for thee, unhappy man! Thou, old sir, hast\nbeen made partaker in the fortune of Oedipus, thou and my poor city\ntoo.\nIPHIS Ah, why are mortal men denied this boon, to live their youth\ntwice o'er, and twice in turn to reach old age? If aught goes wrong\nwithin our homes, we set it right by judgment more maturely formed,\nbut our life we may not so correct. Now if we had a second spell of\nyouth and age, this double term of life would let us then correct\neach previous slip. For I, seeing others blest with children, longed\nto have them too, and found my ruin in that wish. Whereas if I had\nhad present experience, and by a father's light had learnt how cruel\na thing it is to be bereft of children, never should have fallen on\nsuch evil days as these,-I who did beget a brave young son, proud\nparent that I was, and after all am now bereft of him. Enough of this.\nWhat remains for such a hapless wretch as me? Shall I to my home,\nthere to see its utter desolation and the blank within my life? or\nshall to the halls of that dead Capaneus?-halls I smiled to see in\ndays gone by, when yet my daughter was alive. But she is lost and\ngone, she that would ever draw down my cheek to her lips, and take\nmy head between her hands; for naught is there more sweet unto an\naged sire than a daughter's love; our sons are made of sterner stuff,\nbut less winning are their caresses. Oh! take me to my house at once,\nin darkness hide me there, to waste and fret this aged frame with\nfasting! What shall it avail me to touch my daughter's bones? Old\nage, resistless foe, how do I loathe thy presence! Them too I hate,\nwhoso desire to lengthen out the span of life, seeking to turn the\ntide of death aside by philtres, drugs, and magic spells,-folk that\ndeath should take away to leave the young their place, when they no\nmore can benefit the world. (IPHIS departs. A procession enters from\nthe direction of the pyre, led by the CHILDREN of the slain chieftains,\nwho carry the ashes of their fathers in funeral urns. The following\nlines between the CHORUS and the CHILDREN are chanted responsively.)\nCHORUS Woe, woe! Behold your dead sons' bones are brought hither;\ntake them, servants of your weak old mistress, for in me is no strength\nleft by reason of my mourning for my sons; time's comrade long have\nI been, and many a tear for many a sorrow have I shed. For what sharper\npang wilt thou ever find for mortals than the sight of children dead?\nCHILDREN Poor mother mine, behold I bring my father's bones gathered\nfrom the fire, a burden grief has rendered heavy, though this tiny\nurn contains my all.\nCHORUS Ah me! ah me! Why bear thy tearful load to the fond mother\nof the dead, a handful of ashes in the stead of those who erst were\nmen of mark in Mycenae?\nCHILDREN Woe worth the hour! woe worth the day! Reft of my hapless\nsire, a wretched orphan shall I inherit a desolate house, torn from\nmy father's arms.\nCHORUS Woe is thee! Where is now the toil I spent upon my sons? what\nthank have I for nightly watch? Where the mother's nursing care? the\nsleepless vigils mine eyes have kept? the loving kiss upon my children's\nbrow?\nCHILDREN Thy sons are dead and gone. Poor mother! dead and gone;\nthe boundless air now wraps them round.\nCHORUS Turned to ashes by the flame, they have winged their flight\nto, Hades.\nCHILDREN Father, thou hearest thy children's lamentation; say, shall\nI e'er, as warrior dight, avenge thy slaughter?\nCHORUS God grant it, O my child\nCHILDREN Some day, if god so will, shall the avenging of my father\nbe my task; not yet this sorrow sleeps.\nCHORUS Alas! Fortune's sorrows are enough for me, I have enough of\ntroubles now.\nCHILDREN Shall Asopus' laughing tide ever reflect my brazen arms\nas I lead on my Argive troops?\nCHORUS To avenge thy fallen sire.\nCHILDREN Methinks I see thee still before my eye, my father-\nCHORUS Printing a loving kiss upon thy cheek.\nCHILDREN But thy words of exhortation are borne on the winds away.\nCHORUS Two mourners hath he left behind, thy mother and thee, bequeathing\nto thee an endless legacy of grief for thy father.\nCHILDREN The weight of grief I have to bear hath crushed me utterly.\nCHORUS Come, let me clasp the ashes of my son to my bosom.\nCHILDREN I weep to hear that piteous word; 'it stabs me to the heart,\nCHORUS My child, thou art undone; no more shall I behold thee, thy\nown fond mother's treasure.\nTHESEUS Adrastus, and ye dames from Argos sprung, ye see these children\nbearing in their hands the bodies of their valiant sires whom I redeemed;\nto thee I give these gifts, I and Athens. And ye must bear in mind\nthe memory of this favour, marking well the treatment ye have had\nof me. And to these children I repeat the self-same words, that they\nmay honour this city, to children's children ever handing on the kindness\nye received from us. Be Zeus the witness, with the gods in heaven,\nof the treatment we vouchsafed you ere you left us.\nADRASTUS Theseus, well we know all the kindness thou hast conferred\nupon the land of Argos in her need, and ours shall be a gratitude\nthat never waxeth old, for your generous treatment makes us debtors\nfor a like return.\nTHESEUS What yet remains, wherein I can serve you?\nADRASTUS Fare thee well, for such is thy desert and such thy city's\ntoo.\nTHESEUS Even so. Mayst thou too have the self-same fortune! (ATHENA\nappears from above.)\nATHENA Hearken, Theseus, to the words that I Athena utter, telling\nthee thy duty, which, if thou perform it, will serve thy city. Give\nnot these bones to the children to carry to the land of Argos, letting\nthem go so lightly; nay, take first an oath of them that they will\nrequite thee and thy city for your efforts. This oath must Adrastus\nswear, for as their king it is his right to take the oath for the\nwhole realm of Argos. And this shall be the form thereof: \"We Argives\nswear we never will against this land lead on our mail-clad troops\nto war, and, if others come, we will repel them.\" But if they violate\ntheir oath and come against the city, pray that the land of Argos\nmay be miserably destroyed. Now hearken while I tell thee where thou\nmust slay the victims. Thou hast within thy halls a tripod with brazen\nfeet, which Heracles, in days gone by, after he had o'erthrown the\nfoundations of Ilium and was starting on another enterprise, enjoined\nthe to set up at the Pythian shrine. O'er it cut the throats of three\nsheep; then grave within the tripod's hollow belly the oath; this\ndone, deliver it to the god who watches over Delphi to keep, a witness\nand memorial unto Hellas of the oath. And bury the sharp-edged knife,\nwherewith thou shalt have laid the victims open and shed their blood,\ndeep in the bowels of the earth, hard by the pyres where the seven\nchieftains burn; for its appearance shall strike them with dismay,\nif e'er against thy town they come, and shall cause them to return\nwith sorrow. When thou hast done all this, dismiss the dead from thy\nland. And to the god resign as sacred land the spot where their bodies\nwere purified by fire, there by the meeting of the triple roads that\nlead unto the Isthmus. Thus much to thee, Theseus, address; next to\nthe sons of Argos I speak; when ye are grown to men's estate, the\ntown beside Ismenus shall ye sack, avenging the slaughter of your\ndead sires; thou too, Aegialeus, shalt take thy father's place and\nin thy youth command the host, and with thee Tydeus' son marching\nfrom Aetolia,-him whom his father named Diomedes. Soon as the beards\nyour cheeks o'ershadow must ye lead an armed Danaid host against the\nbattlements of Thebes with sevenfold gates. For to their sorrow shall\nye come like lion's whelps in full-grown might to sack their city.\nNo otherwise is it to be; and ye shall be a theme for minstrels' songs\nin days to come, known through Hellas as \"the After-born\"; so famous\nshall your expedition be, thanks to Heaven.\nTHESEUS Queen Athena, I will hearken to thy bidding; for thou it\nis dost set me up, so that I go not astray. And I will bind this monarch\nby an oath; do thou but guide my steps aright. For if thou art friendly\nto our state, we shall henceforth live secure. (ATHENA vanishes.)\nCHORUS (chanting) Let us go, Adrastus, and take the oath to this\nmonarch and his state; for the service they have already done us claims\nour reverence.\nTHE END","title":"The Suppliants, By Euripides","type":"page"}