For if this deadly deed and my lady’s aims pass unfulfilled, and the right moment for her daring go by, and with it the hope which now sustains her, either will she seize the whetted knife or fasten the noose about her neck, and by ending one sorrow by another will go down to other phases of existence. For never will that daughter of a noble line, while life is hers, endure within the sunshine of her eyes the sight of alien rulers in her halls. Chorus I blush for that god of song, if this stranger is to witness the torch-dance, that heralds in the twentieth dawn, around Callichorus’ fair springs, a sleepless votary in midnight revels, what time the star-lit firmament of Zeus, the moon, and Nereus’ fifty daughters, that trip it lightly o’er the sea and the eternal rivers’ tides, join the dance in honour of the maiden with the crown of gold and her majestic mother; where this vagabond, by Phoebus favoured, thinks to reign, entering into other men’s hard toil. Chorus Look to it, all ye bards, who, in malicious strains, expose our amours and unholy bonds of lawless love; see how far our virtue surpasses man’s disloyalty. Change the burden of your song and keep your spiteful verse to brand man’s faithlessness. For this scion of the stock of Zeus shows himself a heedless wight, denying to the mistress of his halls the lot of mutual offspring, and, paying all his court to some strange love, hath gotten him a bastard son. Servant Ladies of another land, where may I find your mistress, daughter of Erechtheus? For I have searched each nook and corner of this town, and cannot find her. Chorus What news, my fellow-thrall? why that hurried gait? what tidings bringest thou? Servant I am pursued; the rulers of this land are seeking her to stone her to death. Chorus Alas, what is thy tale? say not we are detected in our secret plot for murdering the boy? Servant Thou hast guessed aright; nor wilt thou be the last to share the trouble. Chorus How was the hidden scheme laid bare? Servant The god found means to master wrong with right, unwilling to see his shrine polluted. Chorus How so? I do conjure thee, tell us all. For if to die or yet to live be ours, ’twere sweeter so, when we know all. Servant Soon as Xuthus, husband of Creusa, had left the god’s prophetic shrine, taking with him his new-found son, to hold the feast and sacrifice that he designed to offer to the gods, himself departed to the place where leaps the Bacchic flame, with blood of sacrifice to dew the double peaks of Dionysus for the son now offered to his gaze, and thus he spake, My son, abide thou here, and raise a spacious tent by craftsmen’s toiling skill;