The Suppliants

1Chorus At thy knees I fall, aged dame, and my old lips beseech thee; arise, rescue from the slain my children’s bodies, whose limbs, by death relaxed, are left a prey to savage mountain beasts,

1Chorus beholding the bitter tears which spring to my eyes and my old wrinkled skin torn by my hands; for what can I do else? who never laid out my children dead within my halls, nor now behold their tombs heaped up with earth.

2Chorus Thou too, honoured lady, once a son didst bear, crowning thy lord’s marriage with fond joy; then share, O share with me thy mother’s feelings, in such measure as my sad heart grieves for my own dead sons; and persuade thy son, whose aid we implore, to go unto the river Ismenus, there to place within my hapless arms the bodies of my children, slain in their prime and left without a tomb.†

2Chorus Though†not as piety enjoins, yet from sheer necessity I have come to the fire-crowned altars of the gods, falling on my knees with instant supplication, for my cause is just, and’tis in thy power, blest as thou art in thy children, to remove from me my woe; so in my sore distress I do beseech thee of my misery place in my hands my son’s dead body, that I may throw my arms about his hapless limbs.

3Chorus Behold a rivalry in sorrow! woe takes up the tale of woe; hark! thy servants beat their breasts. Come ye who join the mourners’ wail, come, O sympathetic band, to join the dance, which Hades honours; let the†pearly nail be stained red, as it rends your cheeks, let your skin be streaked with gore; for honours rendered to the dead are a credit†to the living.

3Chorus Sorrow’s charm doth drive me wild, insatiate, painful, endless, even as the trickling stream that gushes from some steep rock’s face; for’tis woman’s way to fall a-weeping o’er the cruel calamity of children dead. Ah me! would I could die and forget my anguish!

1Chorus O Argos, home of steeds, my native land! ye have heard with your ears these words, the king’s pious will toward the gods in the sight of great Pelasgia and throughout Argos.

1Chorus May he reach the goal! yea, and triumph o’er my sorrows, rescuing the gory corpse, the mother’s idol, and making the land of Inachus his friend by helping her.

2Chorus For pious toil is a fair ornament to cities, and carries with it a grace that never wastes away. What will the city decide, I wonder? Will it conclude a friendly truce with me, and shall we obtain burial for our sons?

2Chorus Help, O help, city of Pallas, the mother’s cause, that so they may not pollute the laws of all mankind. Thou, I know, dost reverence right, and to injustice dealest out defeat, a protection at all times to the afflicted.

1The following lines between the Semi-Choruses are chanted responsively. 1st Half-Chorus Unhappy mothers of those hapless chiefs! How wildly in my heart pale fear stirs up alarm! 2nd Half-Chorus What is this new cry thou utterest? 1st Half-Chorus I fear the issue of the strife, whereto the hosts of Pallas march. 2nd Half-Chorus Dost speak of issues of the sword, or interchange of words? 1st Half-Chorus That last were gain indeed; but if the carnage of battle, fighting, and the noise of beaten breasts again be heard in the land, what, alas! will be said of me, who am the cause thereof?

12nd Half-Chorus Yet may fate again bring low the brilliant victor;’tis this brave thought that twines about my heart. 1st Half-Chorus Thou speak’st of the gods as if they were just. 2nd Half-Chorus For who but they allot whate’er betides? 1st Half-Chorus I see many a contradiction in their dealings with men. 2nd Half-Chorus The former fear hath warped thy judgment. Vengeance calls vengeance forth; slaughter calls for slaughter, but the gods give respite from affliction, holding in their own hands each thing’s allotted end.

21st Half-Chorus Would I could reach yon plains with turrets crowned, leaving Callichorus, fountain of the goddess! 2nd Half-Chorus O that some god would give me wings to fly to the city of rivers twain! 1st Half-Chorus So might’st thou see and know the fortunes of thy friends. 2nd Half-Chorus What fate, what issue there awaits the valiant monarch of this land? 1st Half-Chorus Once more do we invoke the gods we called upon before; yea, in our fear this is our first and chiefest trust.

22nd Half-Chorus O Zeus, father to the child the heifer-mother bore in days long past, that daughter of Inachus! 1st Half-Chorus O be gracious, I pray, and champion this city! 2nd Half-Chorus’Tis thy own darling, thy own settler in the city of Argos that I†am striving to rescue for the funeral pyre from outrageous insult.

1Chorus Joy is here and sorrow too,— for the state fair fame, and for our captains double meed of honour. Bitter for me it is to see the limbs of my dead sons, and yet a welcome sight withal, because I shall behold the unexpected day after sorrow’s cup was full.

1Chorus Would that Father Time had kept me unwed from my youth up e’en till now when I am old! What need had I of children? Methinks I should not have suffered excessively, had I never borne the marriage-yoke; but now I have my sorrow full in view, the loss of children dear.

2Adrastus Mothers, raise the wail for the dead departed; cry in answer when ye hear my note of woe. Chorus My sons, my sons! O bitter words for loving mothers to address to you! To thee, my lifeless child, I call. Adrastus Woe! woe! Chorus Ah me, my sufferings! Adrastus Alas! Chorus†Adrastus We have endured, alas!— Chorus Sorrows most grievous. Adrastus O citizens of Argos! do ye not behold my fate? Chorus They see thee, and me the hapless mother, reft of her children.

2Adrastus Bring near the blood-boltered corpses of those hapless chiefs, foully slain by foes unworthy, with whom lay the decision of the contest. Chorus Let me embrace and hold my children to my bosom in my enfolding arms. Adrastus There, there! thou hast— Chorus Sorrows heavy enough to bear. Adrastus Ah me! Chorus Thy groans mingle with those of their parents.†Adrastus Hear me. Chorus O’er both of us thou dost lament. Adrastus Would God the Theban ranks had laid me dead in the dust! Chorus Oh that I had ne’er been wedded to a husband!

1Chorus No more a happy mother I, with children blest; no more I share, among Argive women, who have sons, their happy lot; nor any more will Artemis in the hour of travail kindly greet these childless mothers. Most dreary is my life, and like some wandering cloud I drift before the howling blast.

1Chorus The seven noblest sons in Argos once we had, we seven hapless mothers; but now my sons are dead, I have no child, and on me steals old age in piteous wise, nor’mongst the dead nor’mongst the living do I count†myself, having as it were a lot apart from these.

1Evadne What light, what radiancy did the sun-god’s car dart forth, and the moon athwart the firmament, while round her in the gloom swift stars†careered, in the day that the city of Argos raised the stately chant of joy at my wedding, in honour of my marriage with mail-clad Capaneus? Now from my home in frantic haste with frenzied mind I rush to join thee, seeking to share with thee the fire’s bright flame and the self-same tomb, to rid me of my weary life in Hades’ halls, and of the pains of existence; yea, for’tis the sweetest end to share the death of those we love, if only fate will sanction it. Chorus Behold yon pyre, which thou art overlooking, nigh thereto, set apart for Zeus! There is thy husband’s body, vanquished by the blazing bolt.

1Evadne Life’s goal I now behold from my station here; may fortune aid me in my headlong leap from this rock in honour’s cause, down into the fire below, to mix my ashes in the ruddy blaze with my husband’s, to lay me side by side with him, there in the couch of Persephone; for ne’er will I, to save my life, prove untrue to thee where thou liest in thy grave. Away with life and marriage too! Oh!†may my children live to see the dawn of a fairer, happier wedding-day in Argos! May loyalty inspire the husband’s heart, his nature fusing with his wife’s! Chorus Lo! the aged Iphis, thy father, draweth nigh to hear thy startling scheme, which yet he knows not and will grieve to learn. Iphis Unhappy child! lo! I am come, a poor old man, with twofold sorrow in my house to mourn, that I may carry to his native land the corpse of my son Eteocles, slain by the Theban spear, and further in quest of my daughter who rushed headlong from the house, for she was the wife of Capaneus and longed with him to die. Ere this she was well guarded in my house, but, when I took the watch away in the present troubles, she escaped. But I feel sure that she is here; tell me if ye have seen her. Evadne Why question them? Lo, here upon the rock, father, o’er the pyre of Capaneus, like some bird I hover lightly, in my wretchedness. Iphis What wind hath blown thee hither, child? Whither away? Why didst thou pass the threshold of my house and seek this land? Evadne It would but anger thee to hear what I intend, and so I fain would keep thee ignorant, my father. Iphis What! hath not thy own father a right to know? Evadne Thou wouldst not wisely judge my intention. Iphis Why dost thou deck thyself in that apparel? Evadne A purport strange this robe conveys, father. Iphis Thou hast no look of mourning for thy lord. Evadne No, the reason why I thus am decked is strange, maybe. Iphis Dost thou in such garb appear before a funeral-pyre? Evadne Yea, for hither it is I come to take the meed of victory. Iphis Victory! what victory? This would I learn of thee. Evadne A victory o’er all women on whom the sun looks down. Iphis In Athena’s handiwork or in prudent counsel? Evadne In bravery; for I will lay me down and die with my lord. Iphis What dost thou say? What is this silly riddle thou propoundest? Evadne To yonder pyre where lies dead Capaneus, I will leap down. Iphis My daughter, speak not thus before the multitude! Evadne The very thing I wish, that every Argive should learn it. Iphis Nay, I will ne’er consent to let thee do this deed. Evadne (as she is throwing herself).’Tis all one; thou shalt never catch me in thy grasp. Lo! I cast me down, no joy to thee, but to myself and to my husband blazing on the pyre with me.

1Children Poor mother mine, behold I bring my father’s bones gathered from the fire, a burden grief has rendered heavy, though this tiny urn contains my all. Chorus Ah me! ah me! Why bear thy tearful load to the fond mother of the dead, a handful of ashes in the stead of those who erst were men of mark in Mycenae?

1Children Woe worth the hour! woe worth the day! Reft of my hapless sire, a wretched orphan shall I inherit a desolate house, torn from my father’s arms. Chorus Woe is thee! Where is now the toil I spent upon my sons? what thank have I for nightly watch? Where the mother’s nursing care? the sleepless vigils mine eyes have kept? the loving kiss upon my children’s brow?

2Children Thy sons are dead and gone. Poor mother! dead and gone; the boundless air now wraps them round.†Chorus Turned to ashes by the flame, they have winged their flight to Hades.†Children Father, thou hearest thy children’s lamentation; say, shall I e’er, as warrior dight, avenge thy slaughter? Chorus God grant it, O my child!

2Children Some day, if god so will, shall the avenging of my father be my task; not yet this sorrow sleeps. Chorus Alas! Fortune’s sorrows are enough for me, I have troubles and to spare already. Children Shall Asopus’ laughing tide ever reflect my brazen arms as I lead on my Argive troops? Chorus To avenge thy fallen sire.

3Children Methinks I see thee still before my eyes, my father— Chorus Printing a loving kiss upon thy cheek. Children But thy words of exhortation are borne on the winds away. Chorus Two mourners hath he left behind, thy mother and thee, bequeathing to thee an endless legacy of grief for thy father.

3Children The weight of grief I have to bear hath crushed me utterly. Chorus Come, let me clasp the ashes of my son to my bosom. Children I weep to hear that piteous word; it stabs me to the heart. Chorus My child, thou art undone; no more shall I behold thee, thy own fond mother’s treasure.