Ion (1303-1333)

And thou, wilt thou rob the childless of her home?

Had I then no share at all in my father’s heritage?

All that his sword and shield had won was thine, and thine alone.

Quit the altar and sanctuary built for gods.

Go bid thy own mother, wherever she is, do that.

Shalt thou escape all punishment, after trying to kill me?

Not if thou choose to butcher me within this shrine.

What joy can it give thee to be slain amid the sacred wreaths?

There is one whom I shall grieve of those who have grieved me.

Oh! ’tis passing strange how badly the deity hath enacted laws for mortal men, contrary to all sound judgment; for instance, they should ne’er have suffered impious men to sit at their altars,

but should have driven them away; for it was nowise right that hands unclean should touch the altars of the gods, though the righteous deserved to find a refuge there from their oppressors, instead of good and bad alike having recourse to the same divine protection with equal success.

Refrain thyself, my son; for I, the priestess of Phoebus, chosen from all the maids of Delphi in accordance with the tripod’s ancient rite, have left that prophetic seat, and am passing o’er this threshold.

Hail to thee, dear mother mine,—mother, though thou didst not give me birth.

Yes, so have I ever been called, and the title causes me no regret.

Hast heard how this woman plotted my death?

I have; thou, too, art wrong because of thy harshness.

Am I not to pay back murderers in their coin?

Wives ever hate the children of a former marriage.

As I hate step-dames for their evil treatment of me.

Do not so; but leaving, as thou art, the shrine, and setting forth for thy country—

What then wouldst thou advise me do?

With clean hands seek Athens, attended by good omens.