Ion (1356-1410)

[*]And when thou hast traversed Asia and the bounds of Europe,

thou wilt learn this for thyself; for the god’s sake I reared thee, my child, and now to thee do I entrust these relics, which he willed that I should take

into my safe keeping, without being bidden; why he willed it I cannot tell thee. For no living soul wist that I had them in my possession, nor yet their hiding-place. And now farewell! as a mother might her child, so I greet thee. The starting-point of thy inquiry for thy mother must be this;

first, was it a Delphian maid that gave birth to thee, and exposed thee in this temple; next, was it a daughter of Hellas at all? That is all that I and Phoebus, who shares in thy lot, can do for thee. [Exit Pythian Priestess.

Ah me! the tears stream from my eyes

when I think of the day my mother bore me, as the fruit of her secret love, only to smuggle her babe away privily, without suckling it; nameless I led a servant’s life in the courts of the god. His service truly was kindly, yet was my fortune

heavy; for just when I ought to have lain softly in a mother’s arms, tasting somewhat of the joys of life, was I deprived of a fond mother’s fostering care. Nor less is she a prey to sorrow that bare me, seeing she hath suffered the self-same pang in losing all the joy a son might bring.

Now will I take and bear this ark unto the god as an offering, that herein I may discover naught that I would rather not. For if haply my mother proves to be some slave-girl, ’twere worse to find her out than let her rest in silence. O! Phoebus, to thy temple do I dedicate this ark.

Yet why? this is to war against the god’s intention, who saved these tokens of my mother for my sake. I must undo the lid and bear the worst. For that which fate ordains, I may ne’er o’erstep. O! hallowed wreaths and fastenings,

that have kept so safe these relics dear to me; why, ah! why were ye hidden from me? Behold the covering of this rounded ark! No signs of age are here, owing to some miracle; decay hath not touched these chaplets; and yet ’tis long enough since these were stored away.

Ha! what unlooked-for sight is here?

Peace, woman! now, as erst, thou art my enemy.

Silence is not for me. Bid me not be still; for lo! I see the ark wherein I did expose thee, my child, in days gone by, whilst yet a tender babe in the cavern of

Cecrops, ’neath the rocky roof of Macrae. So now will I leave this altar, though death await me.

Seize her; she is mad, springing thus from the shelter of the carved altar. Bind her arms.

Kill! spare not! for I to thee will cleave,

and to this ark, and all that is within it.

Is not this monstrous? here am I laid claim to on a specious pretext.

Nay, nay, but as a friend art thou by friends now found.

I a friend of thine! and wouldst thou, then, have slain me privily?

Thou art my child, if that is what a parent holds most dear.

An end to thy web of falsehood! Right well will I convict thee.