these childless mothers, hoary with age, and from reverence for the sacred fillets. To call Theseus hither is my herald to the city gone, that he may rid the land of that which grieveth them, or loose these my suppliant bonds, with pious observance of the gods’ will; for such as are discreet amongst women should in all cases invoke the aid of men. Chorus 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, Chorus 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. Chorus 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. Translating from Elmsley’s emendation of this corrupt passage, θαλερῶν σῶμα ταλαίνας ἄταφον . Chorus Though Because they had arrived during a festival, and their supplication at such a time was a bad omen. 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. Chorus 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 Hartung proposes to read διὰ παρῆδος ὄνθχα τίθετε φόνιον, αἱματοῦτε χρόα τε λευκόν , but I have followed Paley’s text, which gives a possible meaning. 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 Reading κόσμος , which Hartung alters to κῆδος . to the living. Chorus 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! Theseus What is this lamentation that I hear, this beating of the breast, these dirges for the dead, with cries that echo from this shrine? How fluttering fear disquiets me, lest haply my mother have gotten some mischance, in quest of whom I come, for she hath been long absent from home. Ha! what now? A strange sight challenges my speech; I see my aged mother sitting at the altar and stranger dames are with her, who in various note proclaim their woe; from aged eyes the piteous tear is starting to the ground, their hair is shorn, their robes are not the robes of joy. What means it, mother? ’Tis thine to make it plain to me, mine to listen; yea, for I expect some tidings strange. Aethra My son, these are the mothers of those chieftains seven, who fell around the gates of Cadmus’ town. With suppliant boughs they keep me prisoner, as thou seest, in their midst. Theseus And who is yonder man, that moaneth piteously in the gateway? Aethra Adrastus, they inform me, king of Argos . Theseus Are those his children, those boys who stand round him? Aethra Not his, but the sons of the fallen slain.