Stasimon 4
[Episode]
Ah me! I see no way at all to turn death’s
Chorus
hand aside; all, all, ere this, is brought to light owing to that fatal draught of the wine-god’s juice mixed for death with drops of viper’s gore, quick to slay;
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detected is our offering to the dead; for me my life must end in woe, while death by stoning waits my mistress. How can I escape? Shall I take wings and fly away, or creep beneath the darksome caverns of the earth,
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striving to shun the doom of death by stoning? or shall I mount the car drawn by swiftest steeds, or embark upon a ship?
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No man may hide his guilt, save when some
god of his own will steals him away. Ah! my poor mistress! what suffering now awaits thy soul? Must then our wish to work another harm end in our own discomfiture, as justice doth decree?
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Creusa
My trusty maids, the men of death are on my track; the vote of Delphi goes against me; they give me up to die.
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Chorus
Unhappy one! we know thy sad mischance, how thou art placed.
Creusa
Oh! whither can I fly? for scarce had I the start of my pursuers from the house in my race for life; ’tis by stealth alone that I have thus far escaped my foes.
Chorus
Where shouldst thou fly except to the altar?
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Creusa
What good is that to me?
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Chorus
To slay a suppliant is forbidden.
Creusa
Aye, but the law has given me over to death.
Chorus
Only if thou fall into their hands.
Creusa
Look! here they come, cruel champions of vengeance, eagerly brandishing their swords.
Chorus
Sit thee down upon the altar of burnt-offering! for if thou art slain there, thou wilt fix
upon thy murderers the stain of bloodguiltiness; but we must bear our fortune.
1260
Ion
O father Cephissus, with the bull-shaped head, what a viper is this thy child, or dragon with fiery eyes that dart a murderous gleam, in whose heart is throned incarnate daring,
noxious as those Gorgon drops of venom wherewith she sought to compass my death. Seize her, that the peaks of Parnassus may card the flowing tresses of her hair, for thence shall she be hurled headlong amid the rocks. My lucky star hath kept me
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from going to Athens, there to fall beneath the power of a step-mother. For I have gauged thy feelings towards me—the full extent of thy bitter hostility—whilst yet amongst my friends; for hadst thou once shut me tip within thy house, my road to Hades’ halls had led direct from thence.
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This altar shall not save thee, nor yet Apollo’s courts, for that pity thou implorest cries out more loudly for me and my mother, who, though absent in the flesh, is never in name far from me.
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Behold this cursed woman, see the web of trickery she hath woven! yet comes she cowering to Apollo’s altar, thinking to escape the punishment of her misdeeds.
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Creusa
I warn thee not to slay me, both in my own name and in his at whose altar I am stationed.
Ion
What hast thou to do with Phoebus?
Creusa
This body I devote unto that god to keep.
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Ion
And yet thou wert for poisoning his minister?
Creusa
But thou wert not Apollo’s any longer, but thy father’s.
Ion
Nay, I was his son, that is, in absence of a real father.
Creusa
Thou wert so then; now ’tis I, not thou, who am Apollo’s.
Ion
Well, thou art not guiltless now, whereas I was then.
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Creusa
I sought to slay thee as an enemy to my house.
Ion
And yet I never invaded thy country, sword in hand.
Creusa
Thou didst; and thou it was that wert casting a firebrand into the halls of Erechtheus.
Ion
What sort of brand or flaming fire was it?
Creusa
Thou didst design to seize my home against my will, and make it thine.
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Ion
What! when my father offered me a kingdom of his getting.
Creusa
How had the sons of Aeolus any share in the realm of Pallas?
Ion
Arms, not words, he brought to champion it.
Creusa
No mere ally could enter into an inheritance in my land.
Ion
And was it then from fear of consequences that thou didst try to slay me?
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Creusa
Yes, lest I should myself perish if thou wert spared.
Ion
Doth thy childlessness make thee envious that my father found me?
Creusa
And thou, wilt thou rob the childless of her home?
Ion
Had I then no share at all in my father’s heritage?
Creusa
All that his sword and shield had won was thine, and thine alone.
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Ion
Quit the altar and sanctuary built for gods.
Creusa
Go bid thy own mother, wherever she is, do that.
Ion
Shalt thou escape all punishment, after trying to kill me?
Creusa
Not if thou choose to butcher me within this shrine.
Ion
What joy can it give thee to be slain amid the sacred wreaths?
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Creusa
There is one whom I shall grieve of those who have grieved me.
Ion
Oh! ’tis passing strange how badly the deity hath enacted laws for mortal men, contrary to all sound judgment; for instance, they should ne’er have suffered impious men to sit at their altars,
but should have driven them away; for it was nowise right that hands unclean should touch the altars of the gods, though the righteous deserved to find a refuge there from their oppressors, instead of good and bad alike having recourse to the same divine protection with equal success.
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Pythian Priestess
Refrain thyself, my son; for I, the priestess of Phoebus, chosen from all the maids of Delphi in accordance with the tripod’s ancient rite, have left that prophetic seat, and am passing o’er this threshold.
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Ion
Hail to thee, dear mother mine,—mother, though thou didst not give me birth.
Pythian Priestess
Yes, so have I ever been called, and the title causes me no regret.
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Ion
Hast heard how this woman plotted my death?
Pythian Priestess
I have; thou, too, art wrong because of thy harshness.
Ion
Am I not to pay back murderers in their coin?
Pythian Priestess
Wives ever hate the children of a former marriage.
Ion
As I hate step-dames for their evil treatment of me.
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Pythian Priestess
Do not so; but leaving, as thou art, the shrine, and setting forth for thy country—
Ion
What then wouldst thou advise me do?
Pythian Priestess
With clean hands seek Athens, attended by good omens.
Ion
Surely any man hath clean hands who slays his enemies.
Pythian Priestess
Do not thou do this; but take the counsel that I have for thee.
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Ion
Say on; whate’er thou say’st will be prompted by thy good will.
Pythian Priestess
Dost see this basket that I carry in my arms?
Ion
An ancient ark with chaplets crowned.
Pythian Priestess
Herein I found thee long ago, a newborn babe.
Ion
What sayest thou? there is novelty in the story thou art introducing.
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Pythian Priestess
Yea, for I was keeping these relics a secret, but now I show them.
Ion
How earnest thou to hide them on that day, now long ago, when thou didst find me?
Pythian Priestess
The god wished to have thee as his servant in his courts.
Ion
Does he no longer wish it? How am I to know this?
Pythian Priestess
By declaring to thee thy sire, he dismisses thee from this land.
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Ion
Is it by his command thou keepest these relics, or why?
Pythian Priestess
Loxias put in my heart that day—
Ion
What purpose? Oh! speak, finish thy story.
Pythian Priestess
To preserve what I had found until the present time.
Ion
What weal or woe doth this import to me?
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Pythian Priestess
Herein were laid the swaddling-clothes in which thou wert enwrapped.
Ion
These relics thou art producing may help me to find my mother.
Pythian Priestess
Yes, for now the deity so wills it, though not before.
Ion
Hail! thou day of visions blest to me!
Pythian Priestess
Take then the relics and seek thy mother diligently.
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This line is assigned to Ion in the Greek.And when thou hast traversed Asia and the bounds of Europe,
thou wilt learn this for thyself; for the god’s sake I reared thee, my child, and now to thee do I entrust these relics, which he willed that I should take
into my safe keeping, without being bidden; why he willed it I cannot tell thee. For no living soul wist that I had them in my possession, nor yet their hiding-place. And now farewell! as a mother might her child, so I greet thee. The starting-point of thy inquiry for thy mother must be this;
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first, was it a Delphian maid that gave birth to thee, and exposed thee in this temple; next, was it a daughter of Hellas at all? That is all that I and Phoebus, who shares in thy lot, can do for thee. [Exit Pythian Priestess.
1365
Ion
Ah me! the tears stream from my eyes
when I think of the day my mother bore me, as the fruit of her secret love, only to smuggle her babe away privily, without suckling it; nameless I led a servant’s life in the courts of the god. His service truly was kindly, yet was my fortune
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heavy; for just when I ought to have lain softly in a mother’s arms, tasting somewhat of the joys of life, was I deprived of a fond mother’s fostering care. Nor less is she a prey to sorrow that bare me, seeing she hath suffered the self-same pang in losing all the joy a son might bring.
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Now will I take and bear this ark unto the god as an offering, that herein I may discover naught that I would rather not. For if haply my mother proves to be some slave-girl, ’twere worse to find her out than let her rest in silence. O! Phoebus, to thy temple do I dedicate this ark.
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Yet why? this is to war against the god’s intention, who saved these tokens of my mother for my sake. I must undo the lid and bear the worst. For that which fate ordains, I may ne’er o’erstep. O! hallowed wreaths and fastenings,
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that have kept so safe these relics dear to me; why, ah! why were ye hidden from me? Behold the covering of this rounded ark! No signs of age are here, owing to some miracle; decay hath not touched these chaplets; and yet ’tis long enough since these were stored away.
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Creusa
Ha! what unlooked-for sight is here?
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Ion
Peace, woman! now, as erst, thou art my enemy.
Creusa
Silence is not for me. Bid me not be still; for lo! I see the ark wherein I did expose thee, my child, in days gone by, whilst yet a tender babe in the cavern of
Cecrops, ’neath the rocky roof of Macrae. So now will I leave this altar, though death await me.
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Ion
Seize her; she is mad, springing thus from the shelter of the carved altar. Bind her arms.
Creusa
Kill! spare not! for I to thee will cleave,
and to this ark, and all that is within it.
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Ion
Is not this monstrous? here am I laid claim to on a specious pretext.
Creusa
Nay, nay, but as a friend art thou by friends now found.
Ion
I a friend of thine! and wouldst thou, then, have slain me privily?
Creusa
Thou art my child, if that is what a parent holds most dear.
Ion
An end to thy web of falsehood! Right well will I convict thee.
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Creusa
My child, that is my aim; God grant I reach it!
Ion
Is this ark empty, or hath it aught within?
Creusa
Thy raiment wherein I exposed thee long ago.
Ion
Wilt put a name thereto before thou see it?
Creusa
Unless I describe it, I offer to die.
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Ion
Say on; there is something strange in this thy confidence.
Creusa
Behold the robe my childish fingers wove.
Ion
Describe it; maidens weave many a pattern.
Creusa
’Tis not perfect, but a first lesson, as it were, in weaving.
Ion
Describe its form; thou shalt not catch me thus.
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Creusa
A Gorgon figures in the centre of the warp.
Ion
Great Zeus! what fate is this that dogs my steps?
Creusa
’Tis fringed with snakes like an aegis.
Ion
Lo! ’tis the very robe; how true we find the voice of God!
Creusa
Ah! woven work that erst my virgin shuttle wrought.
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Ion
Is there aught beside, or stays thy lucky guessing here?
Creusa
There be serpents, too, with jaws of gold, an old-world symbol.
Ion
This line is assigned to Creusa in the Greek. Is that Athena’s gift, bidding her race grow up under their guardianship?
Creusa
Yes, to copy our ancestor Erichthonius.
Ion
What is their object? what the use of these golden gauds? pray, tell.
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Creusa
Necklaces for the new-born babe to wear, my child.
Ion
Lo! here they lie. Yet would I know the third sign.
Creusa
About thy brow I bound an olive-wreath that day, plucked from the tree Athena first made grow on her own rock.
If haply that is there, it hath not lost its verdure yet, but still is fresh, for it came from the stock that grows not old.
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Ion
Mother, dearest mother, with what rapture I behold thee, as on thy cheeks, that share my joy, I press my lips!
Creusa
My son, light that in thy mother’s eye outshinest yonder sun,—
I know the god will pardon me,—in my arms I hold thee, whom I never hoped to find, for I thought thy home was in that nether world, among the ghosts with Queen Persephone.
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Ion
Ah, dear mother mine! within thy arms I rest, the dead now brought to light, and dead no more.
Creusa
Hail, thou broad expanse of bright blue sky! What words can I find to utter my joy aloud? Whence comes to me such unexpected rapture? To what do I owe this bliss?
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Ion
This is the last thing that ever would have occurred to me, mother, that I was thy child.
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Creusa
With fear I tremble still.
Ion
Dost thou doubt my reality?
Creusa
Far from me had I banished these hopes. Whence, O whence, lady, didst thou take my babe
into thy arms? Who carried him to the courts of Loxias?
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Ion
’Tis a miracle! Oh! may we for the rest of our career be happy, as we were hapless heretofore.
Creusa
In tears wert thou brought forth, my child,
and with sorrow to thy mother didst thou leave her arms; but now I breathe again as I press my lips to thy cheek, in full enjoyment of happiness.
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Ion
Thy words express our mutual feelings.
Creusa
No more am I of son and heir bereft; my house is stablished and my country hath a prince;
Erechtheus groweth young again; no longer is the house of the earth-born race plunged in gloom, but lifts its eyes unto the radiant sun.
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Ion
Mother mine, since my father too is here, let him share the joy I have brought to thee.
Creusa
My child, my child, what sayst thou? How is my sin finding me out!
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Creusa
Thou art of a different, for different stock.
Ion
Alas for me! Am I a bastard, then, bom in thy maiden days?
Creusa
Nor nuptial torch nor dance,
my child, ushered in my wedding and thy birth.
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Ion
O mother, mother! whence do I draw my base origin?
Creusa
Be witness she who slew the Gorgon,
Creusa
She that on my native rocks
makes the olive-clad hill her seat.
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Ion
Thy words to me are but as cunning riddles. I cannot read them.
Creusa
Hard by the rock with nightingales melodious, Phoebus,
Ion
Why dost thou mention Phoebus?
Creusa
Forced on me his secret love.
Ion
Say on; for thy story will crown me with fame and fortune.
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Creusa
And as the tenth month came round I bore a child to Phoebus in secret.
Ion
Oh! thy happy tidings, if thy story is true.
Creusa
And about thee as swaddling-clothes I fastened this my maiden work,
the faulty efforts of my loom. But to my breast I never held thy lips, or suckled or washed thee with a mother’s care; but in a desert cave wert thou cast out
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to die, for taloned kites to rend and feast upon.
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Ion
An awful deed! O mother!
Creusa
Fear held me captive, and I cast thy life away, my child;
I would, though loth, have slain thee too.
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Ion
Thou too wert all but slain by me most impiously.
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Creusa
O the horror of all I suffered then! O the horror of what is to follow now! To and fro
from bad to good we toss, though now the gale is shifting round. May it remain steady! the past brought sorrows enough; but now hath a fair breeze sprung up, my son, to waft us out of woe.
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Chorus
Let no man ever deem a thing past hoping for, when he turns an eye towards what is happening now.
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Ion
O Fortune! who ere now hast changed the lot of countless mortals first to grief, and then to joy again, to what a goal my life had come,
even to staining my hands with a mother’s blood and enduring sufferings ill-deserved! Ah well! may we not learn these truths daily in all that the bright sun embraces? O mother, in thee have I made a happy discovery, and from my point of view there is no fault to find with my birth;
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but what remains I fain would speak to thee apart. Come hither, for I would say a word in thine ear, and o’er these matters cast the veil of silence. Bethink thee, mother, carefully; didst thou make the fatal slip, that maidens will, as touching secret amours,
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and then upon the god wouldst foist the blame, in thy anxiety to escape the shame of my birth asserting that Phoebus is my sire, albeit the god was not the parent.
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Creusa
Nay, by our queen of Victory, Athena, that fought by Zeus, in days gone by, high on his car against the earth-born giants I swear,
no mortal is thy father, my son, but King Loxias himself who brought thee up.
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Ion
How then is it he gave his own child to another father, declaring that I was begotten of Xuthus?
Creusa
Begotten he never said, but as a gift he doth bestow thee
his own son on him; for friend might give to friend even his own son to rule his house.
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Ion
Mother mine, this thought disturbs my breast, as well it may, whether the god speaks truth or gives an idle oracle.
Creusa
Hear, then, my son, the thought that hath occurred to me;
Loxias out of kindness is establishing thee in a noble family, for hadst thou been called the god’s son, thou hadst never inherited a father’s home and name. How couldst thou, when I strove to hide my marriage with him and would have slain thee privily?
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But he for thy interest is handing thee over to another father.
1545
Ion
Not thus lightly do I pursue the inquiry; nay, I will enter Apollo’s shrine and question him whether I am the child of a mortal sire or his own son. Ha! who is that hovering o’er the incense-smoking roof,
and showing to our gaze a heavenly face, bright as the sun? Let us fly, mother, that we see not sights divine, unless haply it is right we should.
1550
Athena
Fly not! I am no foe ye seek to shun, but alike in Athens and this place your kindly friend.
’Tis I, Pallas, after whom your land is named, that am here, by Apollo sent in headlong haste; for he thought not fit to appear before you twain, lest his coming might provoke reproaches for the past; but me he sends to proclaim to you his words,
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how that this is thy mother, and Apollo thy sire; while thyself he doth bestow, as seems him good, not indeed on him that begat thee, nay, but that he may bring thee to a house of high repute. For when this matter was brought to light, he devised a way of deliverance,
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fearing that thou wouldst be slain by thy mother’s wiles and she by thine. Now it was King Apollo’s wish to keep this matter secret awhile, and then in Athens to acknowledge this lady as thy mother and thyself as the child of her and Phoebus. But to end the business and discharge his oracles for the god,
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I bid you hearken; for such was my purpose in yoking my chariot-steeds.
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Do thou, Creusa, take this stripling and to Cecrops’ land set forth; and there upon the monarch’s throne establish him, for from Erechtheus’ stock is he sprung, and therefore hath a right to rule that land of mine.
Through Hellas shall his fame extend; for his children,—four branches springing from one root,—shall give their names to the land and to the tribes of folk therein that dwell upon the rock I love. Teleona shall be the first; and next in order shall come
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the Hopletes and Argades; and then the Aegicores, called after my aegis, shall form one tribe. And their children again shall in the time appointed found an island home amid the Cyclades and on the sea-coast, thereby strengthening my country;
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for they shall dwell upon the shores of two continents, of Europe and of Asia, on either side the strait; and in honour of Ion’s name shall they be called Ionians and win them high renown. From Xuthus too and thee I see a common stock arise;
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Dorus, whence the famous Dorian state will spring; and after him Achaeus in the land of Pelops; he shall lord it o’er the seaboard nigh to Rhium, and his folk, that bear his name, shall win the proud distinction of their leader’s title.
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Thus in all hath Apollo rightly done; first did he deliver thee of thy babe without sickness, so that thy friends knew naught; and after thou didst bear this child and in swaddling-clothes hadst laid him, he bade Hermes carry him in his arms hither,
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and did rear him, suffering him not to die. Now therefore hold thy peace as to this thy child’s real parentage, that Xuthus may delight in his fond fancy, and thou, lady, continue to enjoy thy blessing. So fare ye well! for to you I
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bring tidings of a happier fate after this respite from affliction.
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Ion
O Pallas, daughter of almighty Zeus, in full assurance will we accept thy words; for I am convinced of my parentage from Loxias and this lady; which even before was not incredible.
Creusa
To what I say give ear. My former blame of Phoebus now is turned to praise,
because he now restores to me the babe whom erst he slighted. Now are these portals fair unto mine eyes and this oracle of the god, though before I hated them. With joy now I even cling to the knocker on the door and salute the gates.
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Athena
I commend thee for thy sudden change, and thy fair words about the god.
’Tis ever thus; Heaven’s justice may tarry awhile, yet comes it at the last in no wise weakened.
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Creusa
My son, let us set out for home.
Athena
Go; I will follow.
Ion
A guide we well may prize.
Creusa
Aye, and one that holds our city dear.
Athena
Go, sit thee down upon the throne of thy ancestors.
Ion
’Tis my heritage and I value it.
Chorus
All hail, Apollo, son of Zeus and Latona! ’Tis only right that he,
whose house is sore beset with trouble, should reverence God and keep good heart; for at the last the righteous find their just reward, but the wicked, as their nature is, will never prosper.
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