The priestess of Phoebus; I look oh her as my mother.CreusaUntil thou earnest unto man’s estate, what nurture hadst thou?IonThe altar fed me, and the bounty of each casual guest.CreusaWoe is thy mother, then, whoe’er she was!IonMaybe my birth was some poor woman’s wrong.CreusaHast thou any store, for thy dress is costly enough?IonThe god I serve gives me these robes to wear.CreusaWert thou never eager to inquire into thy birth?IonAh! yes, lady! but I have no clue at all to guide me.CreusaAlas! I know another woman who hath suffered as thy mother did.