Ion

Euripides

Euripides. The Plays of Euripides, Translated into English Prose from the Text of Paley. Vol. I. Coleridge, Edward P., translator. London: George Bell and Sons, 1906.

  1. For this brings to man a settled source of all-surpassing bliss,
  2. even to such as see in their ancestral halls a splendid race of strong young parents blest with offspring, to inherit from their sires
  3. their wealth in due succession after other children; yea, for they are a defence in time of trouble, and add a charm to weal, affording to their fatherland a saving help in battle.
  4. Give me before the pomp of wealth or royal marriages the careful nurture of noble children. The childless life I do abhor, and him who thinks it good I blame;
  5. to a happy life amongst my children, blest with moderate wealth, may I hold fast.
Chorus
  1. Ye haunts of Pan, and rocks hard by the grots of Macrae,
  2. where Agraulos’ daughters three trip it lightly o’er the green grass-lawns before the shrine of Pallas, to the music of the piper’s varied note,
  3. what time thou, Pan, art piping in those caves of thine, where a maiden once that had a child by Phoebus, unhappy mother! exposed her babe, forced issue of her woful wooing,
  4. for birds to tear and beasts to rend, a bloody banquet! Never have I seen it told in woven tale or legend that children born to gods by daughters of earth have any share in bliss.
Ion
  1. Attendant maids, that watch and wait your mistress here at the steps of the temple fragrant with incense, say, hath Xuthus already left the holy tripod and the sanctuary, or doth he still abide within to ask yet further of his childlessness?
Chorus
  1. He is still in the temple, sir, nor hath he passed this threshold yet.
  2. But hark! I hear a footstep at the outlet of the door, and lo! thou mayst see my master this moment coming out.
Xuthus
  1. All hail! my son; that word suits well as my first greeting to thee.
Ion
  1. ’Tis well with me; do but restrain thyself, and then both of us will be happy.
Xuthus
  1. Give me thy hand to grasp, thy body to embrace.
Ion
  1. Art thou in thy senses, sir, or hath some spiteful god reft thee of them?
Xuthus
  1. I am in my senses, for I have found what I hold most dear, and am eager to show my love.
Ion
  1. Cease! touch me not, nor tear these garlands of the god!
Xuthus
  1. I will embrace thee, for I am not seizing what is not my own, but only finding my own that I love full well.
Ion
  1. Hands off! or thou shalt feel an arrow pierce thy ribs.