Dost see her standing over Enceladus brandishing her shield with the Gorgon’s head? (Sixth) Chorus I see Pallas, my own goddess. (Seventh) Chorus Again, dost see the massy thunderbolt all aflame in the far-darting hands of Zeus? (Eighth) Chorus I do; ’tis blasting with its flame Mimas, that deadly foe. (Ninth) Chorus Bromius too, the god of revelry, is slaying another of the sons of Earth with his thyrsus of ivy, never meant for battle. (First) Chorus Thou that art stationed by this fane, to thee I do address me, may we pass the threshold of these vaults, with our fair white feet? Ion Nay, ye must not, stranger ladies. (Tenth) Chorus May I ask thee about something I have heard? Ion What wouldst thou ask? (Eleventh) Chorus Is it really true that the temple of Phoebus stands upon the centre of the world? Ion Aye, there it stands with garlands decked and gorgeous all around. (Twelfth) Chorus E'en so the legend saith. Ion If ye have offered a sacrificial cake before the shrine and have aught ye wish to ask Phoebus, approach the altar; but enter not the inmost sanctuary, save ye have sacrificed sheep. (Thirteenth) Chorus I understand; but we have ho mind to trespass against the god’s law; the pictures here without will amuse us. Ion Feast your eyes on all ye may. (Fourteenth) Chorus My mistress gave me leave to see these vaulted chambers. Ion Whose handmaids do ye avow yourselves? (Fifteenth) Chorus The temple, where Pallas dwells, is the nursing-home of my lords. But lo! here is she of whom thou askest. Ion Lady, whosoe’er thou art, I see thou art of noble birth, and thy bearing proves thy gentle breeding. For from his bearing one may mostly judge whether a man is nobly born. Yet am I much amazed to see thee close thine eyes in grief and with tears bedew thy noble face, when thou standest face to face with the holy oracle of Loxias. Why, lady, art thou thus disquieted? Here, where all others show their joy at sight of Phoebus’ sanctuary, thine eye is wet with tears.