The Suppliants (271-340)

Mother mine, why weepest thou, drawing o’er thine eyes thy veil? Is it because thou didst hear their piteous lamentations? To my own heart it goes. Raise thy silvered head, weep not

where thou sittest at the holy altar of Demeter.

Ah woe!

’Tis not for thee their sorrows to lament.

Ye hapless dames!

Thou art not of their company.

May I a scheme declare, my son, that shall add to thy glory and the state’s?

Yea, for oft even from women’s lips issue wise counsels.

Yet the word, that lurks within my heart, makes me hesitate.

Shame! to hide from friends good counsel.

Nay then, I will not hold my peace to blame myself hereafter for having now kept silence to my shame, nor will I forego my honourable proposal, from the common fear

that it is useless for women to give good advice. First, my son, I exhort thee give good heed to heaven’s will, lest from slighting it thou suffer shipwreck; [*] for in this one single point thou failest, though well-advised in all else. Further, I would have patiently endured, had it not been my duty

to venture somewhat for injured folk; and this, my son, it is that brings thee now thy honour, and causes me no fear to urge that thou shouldst use[*] thy power to make men of violence, who prevent the dead from receiving their meed of burial and funeral rites,

perform this bounden duty, and check those who would confound the customs of all Hellas; for this it is that holds men’s states together,—strict observance of the laws. And some, no doubt, will say, ’twas cowardice made thee stand aloof in terror,

when thou mightest have won for thy city a crown of glory, and, though thou didst encounter a savage swine,[*] labouring for a sorry task, yet when the time came for thee to face the helmet and pointed spear, and do thy best, thou wert found to be a coward.

Nay! do not so if thou be son of mine. Dost see how fiercely thy country looks on its revilers when they mock her for want of counsel? Yea, for in her toils she groweth greater. But states, whose policy is dark and cautious,

have their sight darkened by their carefulness. My son, wilt thou not go succour the dead and these poor women in their need? I have no fears for thee, starting as thou dost with right upon thy side; and although I see the prosperity of Cadmus’ folk,

still am I confident they will throw a different die; for the deity reverses all things again.

Ah! best of friends, right well hast thou pleaded for me and for Adrastus, and hence my joy is doubled.

Mother, the words that I have spoken

are his fair deserts, and I have declared my opinion of the counsels that ruined him; yet do I perceive the truth of thy warning to me, that it ill suits my character to shun dangers. For by a long and glorious career have

I displayed this my habit among Hellenes, of ever punishing the wicked. Wherefore I cannot refuse toil. For what will spiteful tongues say of me, when thou, my mother, who more than all others fearest for my safety,