The Phoenician Maidens

1Chorus From the Tyrian swell of the sea I came, a choice offering for Loxias from the island of Phoenicia, to be a slave to Phoebus in his halls, where he dwells under the snow-swept peaks of Parnassus; through the Ionian sea I sailed in the waves, over the unharvested plains, in the gusts of Zephyrus that ride from Sicily, sweetest music in the sky.

1Chorus Chosen from my city as beauty’s gift for Loxias, to the land of Cadmus I came, sent here to the towers of Laius, the home of my kin, the famous sons of Agenor. And I became the handmaid of Phoebus, dedicated like his statues of wrought gold. But the water of Castalia is still waiting for me to drench the maiden glory of my hair for the service of Phoebus.

2Chorus But now I find the impetuous god of war has come to battle before the walls, and is kindling a murderous blaze—may he not succeed!—for this city. For a friend’s pain is shared, and if this land with its seven towers suffers any mischance, Phoenicia’s realm will share it. Ah me! our blood is one; we are all children of Io, the horned maid; these sorrows I claim as mine.

2Chorus Around the city a thick cloud of shields is kindling a shape of bloody battle, which Ares will soon learn, if he brings upon the sons of Oedipus the curse of the Furies. O Argos, city of Pelasgia! I dread your might, and also what comes from the gods; for the one who approaches his home in armor is setting out to a contest that is not without justice.

1Chorus Cadmus of Tyre came to this land, and at his feet a four-footed, untamed heifer threw itself down, fulfilling an oracle, where the god’s prophecy told him to make his home in the plains rich with wheat, and where the lovely waters of Dirce pour over the fields, the green and deep-seeded fields; here Bromius’ mother gave birth from her union with Zeus; Bromius, round whom the ivy twined its wreaths while he was still a baby, covering him and blessing him in the shades of its green foliage, a Bacchic dance for the maids and wives inspired in Thebes.

1Chorus There was Ares’ murderous dragon, a savage guard, watching with wandering eye the watery rivers and fresh streams. Cadmus destroyed it with a jagged stone, when he came there to draw lustral water; smiting the deadly head with a blow of his beast-slaying arm; and by the counsel of PalIas, the motherless goddess, he cast the teeth upon the deep fields to fall to the earth, from which the earth brought forth a sight fully-armed, above the surface of the soil; but grim slaughter once again united them to the earth they loved, bedewing with blood the ground that had shown them to the sunlit breath of heaven.

1Chorus O Ares, god of much suffering! Why, why are you possessed by a love of blood and death, out of harmony with the festivals of Bromius? Not for young girls crowned in the lovely dance do you toss your curls, singing to the flute’s breath a song to charm the dancers’ feet; no, with warriors clad in armor you inspire the Argive army with a lust for Theban blood, leading your revels that are held without music. Nor do you rush with wild waving of the thyrsus, clad in fawnskin, but with chariots and horses you go to the waters of Ismenus, inspiring the Argives with hatred for the Spartans, arraying in bronze armor against these stone-built walls a band of warriors and their shields. Truly Strife is a goddess to fear, who devised these troubles for the princes of this land, for the much-suffering sons of Labdacus.

1Chorus O snow-capped Cithaeron, dear to Artemis, holy vale of leaves, crowded with wild animals, would that you had never reared the one exposed to die, Oedipus, Jocasta’s child, when as a baby he was cast forth from his home, marked with a golden brooch; and would that the Sphinx, that winged maid, monster from the hills, had never come as a grief to our land with her inharmonious songs, she that once drew near our walls and snatched the sons of Cadmus away in her taloned feet to the untrodden light of heaven, sent by Hades from hell to plague the men of Thebes; once more unhappy strife is coming into bloom between the sons of Oedipus in home and city. For never can wrong be right, nor can there be good in unlawful children, their mother’s birth pangs, their father’s pollution; she came to the bed of her son....

1Chorus You came, you came, O winged creature, born of earth and hellish viper, to prey upon the sons of Cadmus, full of death, full of sorrow, half a maiden, a murderous monster, with roving wings and ravening claws; you once caught up youths from the haunts of Dirce, with discordant song, and you brought, you brought a murderous grief, a deadly curse to our native land. A deadly god he was who brought all this to pass. Mourning of mothers, mourning of maidens, filled the houses with groans; a lamenting cry, a lamenting song, one after another wailed out, in turn throughout the city. The roar of the groaning was like thunder, whenever the winged maiden bore a man out of sight from the city.

1Chorus At last came Oedipus, the man of sorrow, sent from Delphi to this land of Thebes, a joy to us then, but afterwards a cause of grief; for, when he guessed the riddle triumphantly, he formed with his mother an unhallowed union, woe to him! polluting the city; and striking down his sons by his curses, he handed them over to loathsome strife, through blood, the wretched man. We admire him, we admire him, who has gone to his death in his country’s cause, leaving tears to Creon, but bringing a crown of victory to our seven fenced towers. May we be mothers in this way, may we have such fair children, dear PalIas, you who with well-aimed stone spilled the serpent’s blood, rousing Cadmus to brood upon the task, from which a demon’s curse swooped upon this land and ravaged it.

1Chorus Alas, alas! My mind is trembling with fear, trembling; and through my flesh goes a throb of pity, of pity for the hapless mother. Which of her two sons will stain the other with blood— ah, for the suffering! O Zeus, O earth, alas!—a brother’s throat, a brother’s life, through his shield, through his blood? Ah me! ah me! which of them will I lament as dead?

1Chorus Ah, the earth! Ah, the earth! Twin savage beasts, two murderous souls with brandished spears will soon be draining the fallen, fallen enemy’s blood. Unhappy, that they ever thought of single combat! In foreign voice I will chant a dirge of tears and wailing, in mourning for the dead. Close to murder stands their fortune; the coming day will decide it. Fatal this slaughter, fatal, because of the Furies.