Epeisodion 1
Chorus
He erred; but with the young men rests this error, while he may well be pardoned.
250
Adrastus
I did not choose thee, king, to judge my affliction, butDobree rejects this line. Nauck, Matthiae, and Hartung omit it also. came to thee to cure it; no! nor if in aught my fortunes prove me wrong,
came I to thee to punish or correct them, but to seek thy help. But if thou wilt not, I must be content with thy decision; for how can I help it? Come, aged dames, away! Yet leave behind you here the woven leaves of pale green foliage,
255
calling to witness heaven and earth, Demeter, that fire-bearing goddess, and the sun-god’s light, that our prayers to heaven availed us naught.
260
Chorus
. . . . Something is lost here, referring to the claims of relationship. The sense perhaps is, thou art thyself related to Pittheus, who was, etc. who was Pelops’ son, and we are of the land of Pelops and share with thee the blood of ancestors.
What art thou doing? wilt thou betray these suppliant symbols, and banish from thy land these aged women without the boon they should obtain? Do not so; e’en the wild beast finds a refuge in the rock, the slave in the altars of the gods, and a state when tempest-tossed cowers to its neighbour’s shelter;
265
for naught in this life of man is blest unto its end.
270
[Episode]
Rise, hapless one, from the sacred floor of Persephone; rise, clasp him by the knees and implore him, O recover the bodies of our dead sons, the children that I lost—ah, woe is me!—beneath the walls of Cadmus’ town.
Chorus
Ah me! ah me!The words ἰω μοι to γεραιᾶς are probably interpolated. Nauck and Hartung reject them here. Take me by the hand, poor aged sufferer that I am, support and guide and raise me up. By thy beard, kind friend, glory of Hellas, I do beseech thee, as I clasp thy knees and hands in my misery;
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O pity me as I entreat for my sons with my tale of wretched woe, likeReading ὔ τιν’ ἀλάταν with Musgrave. some beggar; nor let my sons lie there unburied in the land of Cadmus, glad prey for beasts, whilst thou art in thy prime, I implore thee. See the teardrop tremble in my eye,
280
as thus I throw me at thy knees to win my children burial.
285
Theseus
Mother mine, why weepest thou, drawing o’er thine eyes thy veil? Is it because thou didst hear their piteous lamentations? To my own heart it goes. Raise thy silvered head, weep not
where thou sittest at the holy altar of Demeter.
290
Theseus
’Tis not for thee their sorrows to lament.
Theseus
Thou art not of their company.
Aethra
May I a scheme declare, my son, that shall add to thy glory and the state’s?
Theseus
Yea, for oft even from women’s lips issue wise counsels.
Aethra
Yet the word, that lurks within my heart, makes me hesitate.
295
