Is this child yet to come, or did the god
Declare one now in being?
LEADER
One
advancedTo
manhood's prime he gave him: I was present.
CREUSA
What hast thou said? Thy words
denounce to me
Sorrows past speech, past utterance.
TUTOR
And to me.
CREUSA
How was this
oracle accomplish'd? Tell me
With clearest circumstance: who is this youth?
LEADER
Him as a son Apollo gave, whom first,
Departing from the god, thy lord should meet.
CREUSA
O my
unhappy fate! I then am left
Childless to pass my life, childless, alone,
Amid my
lonely house! Who was declared?
Whom did the husband of this
wretch first meet?
How meet him? Where behold him? Tell me all.
LEADER
Dost thou, my honoured
mistress, call to mind
The youth that swept the
temple? This is he.
CREUSA
O, through the
liquid air that I could fly,
Far from the land of Greece, ev'n to the stars
Fix'd in the
western sky! Ah me, what grief,
What
piercing grief is mine I
TUTOR
Say, by what name
Did he address his son, if thou hast heard it?
Or does it rest in silence, yet unknown?
LEADER
Ion, for that he first
advanced to meet him.
TUTOR
And of what mother?
LEADER
That I could not learn:
Abrupt was his
departure (to inform the
Of all I know, old man) to sacrifice,
With
hospitable rites, a birthday feast;
And in the hallow'd cave, from her apart,
With his new son to share the common banquet.
TUTOR
Lady, we by thy husband are betrayed,
For I with thee am grieved, with contrived fraud
Insulted, from thy father's house cast forth.
I speak not this in
hatred to thy lord,
But that I love thee more: a stranger he
Came to the city and thy royal house,
And
wedded thee, all thy inheritance
Receiving, by some other woman now
Discover'd to have children
privately:
How
privately I'll tell thee: when he saw
Thou hadst no child, it pleased him not to bear
A fate like thine; but by some favourite slave,
His paramour by stealth, he hath a son.
Him to some Delphian gave he, distant far,
To
educate; who to this
sacred house
Consign'd, as secret here, received his nurture.
He
knowing this, and that his son
advancedTo
manhood, urged thee to attend him hither,
Pleading thy childless state. Nor hath the god
Deceived thee: he deceived thee, and long since
Contrived this wily plan to rear his son,
That, if convicted, he might
charge the god,
Himself excusing: should the fraud succeed,
He would observe the times when he might safely
Consign to him the empire of thy land.
And this new name was at his
leisure form'd,
Ion, for that he came by chance to meet him.
I hate those ill-designing men, that form
Plans of
injustice, and then gild them over
With
artificialornament: to me
Far dearer is the honest simple friend,
Than one whose quicker wit is train'd to ill.
And to complete this fraud, thou shalt be urged
To take into thy house, to lord it there,
This low-born youth, this offspring of a slave.
Though ill, it had been open, had he pleaded
Thy want of children, and, thy leave obtain'd,
Brought to thy house a son that could have boasted
His mother noble; or, if that displeased thee,
He might have sought a wife from Aeolus.
Behooves thee then to act a woman's part,
Or grasp the sword, or drug the poison'd bowl,
Or plan some deep design to kill thy husband,
And this his son, before thou find thy death
From them: if thou delay, thy life is lost:
For when beneath one roof two foes are met,
The one must
perish. I with ready zeal
Will aid thee in this work, and kill the youth,
Entering the grot where he prepares the feast;
Indifferent in my choice, so that I pay
What to my lords I owe, to live or die.
If there is aught that causes slaves to blush,
It is the name; in all else than the free
The slave is nothing worse, if he be virtuous.
I too, my honour'd queen, with
cheerful mind
Will share thy fate, or die, or live with honour.
CREUSA (chanting)
How, o my soul, shall I be silent, how
Disclose this secret? Can I bid farewell
To
modesty? What else restrains my tongue?
To how
severe a trial am I brought!
Hath not my husband wrong'd me? Of my house
I am deprived, deprived of children; hope
Is vanish'd, which my heart could not resign,
With many an honest wish this furtive bed
Concealing, this lamented bed
concealing.
But by the star-bespangled
throne of Jove,
And by the
goddess high above my rocks
En
shrined, by the moist banks that bend around
The hallow'd lake by Triton form'd, no longer
Will I
conceal this bed, but ease my breast,
The
oppressive load dis
charged. Mine eyes drop tears,
My soul is rent, to
wretchedness ensnared
By men, by gods, whom I will now
disclose,
Unkind betrayers of the beds they forced.
O thou, that wakest on thy seven-string'd lyre
Sweet notes, that from the
rusticlifeless horn
Enchant the ear with
heavenly melody,
Son of Latona, thee before this light
Will I
reprove. Thou camest to me, with gold
Thy locks all glittering, as the vermeil flowers
I gather'd in my vest to deck my bosom
With the spring's glowing hues; in my white hand
Thy hand enlocking, to the cavern'd rock
Thou led'st me;
naught avail'd my cries, that call'd
My mother; on thou led'st me,
wanton god,
Immodestly, to Venus paying homage.
A son I bare thee, O my
wretched fate!
Him (for I fear'd my mother) in thy cave
I placed, where I
unhappy was undone
By thy
unhappy love. Woe, woe is me!
And now my son and thine, ill-fated babe,
Is rent by ravenous vultures; thou, meanwhile,
Art to thy lyre attuning strains of joy.
Set of Latona, thee I call aloud
Who from thy golden seat, thy central
throne,
Utterest thine
oracle: my voice shall reach
Thine ear: ungrateful lover, to my husband,
No grace requiting, thou hast given a son
To bless his house; my son and thine, unown'd,
Perish'd a prey to birds; the robes that wrapp'd
The infant's limbs, his mother's work, lost with him.
Delos abhors thee, and the
laurel boughs
With the soft
foliage of the palm o'erhung,
Grasping whose round trunk with her hands divine,
Latona thee, her hallow'd offspring, bore.
LEADER
Ah, what a
mighty treasury of ills
Is open'd here, a
copious source of tears!
TUTOR
Never, my daughter, can I sate my eyes
With looking on thy face: astonishment
Bears me beyond my senses. I had stemm'd
One tide of evils, when another flood
High-surging overwhelm'd me from the words
Which thou hast utter'd, from the present ills
To an ill train of other woes transferr'd.
What say'st thou? Of what
charge dost thou implead
The god? What son hast thou brought forth? Where placed him
A feast for vultures? Tell me all again.
CREUSA
Though I must blush, old man, yet I will speak.
TUTOR
I mourn with
generous grief at a friend's woes.
CREUSA
Hear then: the northward-pointing cave thou knowest,
And the Cecropian rocks, which we call Macrai.
TUTOR
Where stands a
shrine to Pan, and altars nigh.
CREUSA
There in a
dreadfulconflict I engaged.
TUTOR
What! my tears rise ready to meet thy words.
CREUSA
By Phoebus drawn
reluctant to his bed.
TUTOR
Was this, my daughter, such as I suppose?
CREUSA
I know not: but if truth, I will
confess it.
TUTOR
Didst thou in silence mourn this secret ill?
CREUSA
This was the grief I now
disclose to thee.
TUTOR
This love of Phoebus how didst thou
conceal?
CREUSA
I bore a son. Hear me, old man, with patience.
TUTOR
Where? who assisted? or wast thou alone?
CREUSA
Alone, in the same cave where compress'd.
TUTOR
Where is thy son, that childless now no more
CREUSA
Dead, good old man, to beasts of prey exposed.