Stasimon 4
[Episode]
Ah me! the tears stream from my eyes
Ion
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
1370
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.
1375
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.
1380
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,
1385
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.
1390
Creusa
Ha! what unlooked-for sight is here?
1395
Ion
Peace, woman! now, as erst, thou art my enemy.
Creusa
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.
1400
Ion
Seize her; she is mad, springing thus from the shelter of the carved altar. Bind her arms.
Creusa
Kill! spare not! for I to thee will cleave,
and to this ark, and all that is within it.
1405
Ion
Is not this monstrous? here am I laid claim to on a specious pretext.
Creusa
Nay, nay, but as a friend art thou by friends now found.
Ion
I a friend of thine! and wouldst thou, then, have slain me privily?
Creusa
Thou art my child, if that is what a parent holds most dear.
Ion
An end to thy web of falsehood! Right well will I convict thee.
1410
Creusa
My child, that is my aim; God grant I reach it!
Ion
Is this ark empty, or hath it aught within?
Creusa
Thy raiment wherein I exposed thee long ago.
Ion
Wilt put a name thereto before thou see it?
Creusa
Unless I describe it, I offer to die.
1415
Ion
Say on; there is something strange in this thy confidence.
Creusa
Behold the robe my childish fingers wove.
Ion
Describe it; maidens weave many a pattern.
Creusa
’Tis not perfect, but a first lesson, as it were, in weaving.
Ion
Describe its form; thou shalt not catch me thus.
1420
Creusa
A Gorgon figures in the centre of the warp.
Ion
Great Zeus! what fate is this that dogs my steps?
