Classic Poem

Strophe I

Chor. Take heed to it, and be
Friend to the stranger wholly faithful found;
Desert not thou the poor,
Driven from afar by godless violence.

A NTISTROPHE I

See me not dragged away,
O thou that rul'st the land! from seat of Gods:
Know thou men's wanton pride,
And guard thyself against the wrath of Zeus.

Strophe II

Endure not thou to see thy suppliant,
Despite of law, torn off,
As horses by their frontlets, from the forms
Of sculptured deities,
Nor yet the outrage of their wanton hands,
Seizing these broidered robes.

A NTISTROPHE II

For know thou well, whichever course thou take,
Thy sons and all thy house
Must pay in war the debt that Justice claims,
Proportionate in kind.
Lay well to heart these edicts, wise and true,
Given by great Zeus himself.
King. Well then have I thought o'er it. To this point
Our ship's course drives. Fierce war we needs must risk
Either with these or those. Set fast and firm
Is this as is the ship tight wedged in stocks;
And without trouble there's no issue out.
For wealth indeed, were our homes spoiled of that,
There might come other, thanks to Zeus the Giver,
More than the loss, and filling up the freight;
And if the tongue should aim its adverse darts,
Baleful and over-stimulant of wrath,
There might be words those words to heal and soothe
But how to blot the guilt of kindred blood,
This needs a great atonement — many victims
Falling to many Gods — to heal the woe.
I take my part, and turn aside from strife;
And I far rather would be ignorant
Than wise, forecasting evil. May the end,
Against my judgment, show itself as good!
Chor. Hear, then, the last of all our pleas for pity.
King. I hear; speak on. It shall not 'scape my heed.
Chor. Girdles I have, and zones that bind my robes.
King. Such things are fitting for a woman's state.
Chor. With these then, know, as good and rare device . . . .
King. Nay, speak. What word is this thou'lt utter now?
Chor. Unless thou giv'st our band thy plighted word . . . .
King. What wilt thou do with this device of girdles?
Chor. With tablets new these sculptures we'll adorn.
King. Thou speak'st a riddle. Make thy meaning plain.
Chor. Upon these Gods we'll hang ourselves at once.
King. I hear a word which pierces to the heart.
Chor. Thou see'st our meaning. Eyes full clear I've given.
King. Lo then! in many ways sore troubles come.
A host of evils rushes like a flood;
A sea of woe none traverse, fathomless,
This have I entered; haven there is none.
For if I fail to do this work for you,
Thou tellest of defilement unsurpassed;
And if for thee against Ægyptos' sons,
Thy kindred, I before my city's walls
In conflict stand, how can there fail to be
A bitter loss, to stain the earth with blood
Of man for woman's sake? And yet I needs
Must fear the wrath of Zeus, the suppliant's God;
That dread is mightiest with the sons of men.
Thou, then, O aged father of these maidens!
Taking forthwith these branches in thine arms,
Lay them on other altars of the Gods
Our country worships, that the citizens
May all behold this token of thy coming,
And about me let no rash speech be dropped;
For 'tis a people prompt to blame their rulers.
And then perchance some one beholding them,
And pitying, may wax wrathful 'gainst the outrage
Of that male troop, and with more kindly will
The people look on you; for evermore
Men all wish well unto the weaker side.
Dan. This boon is counted by us of great price,
To find a patron proved so merciful.
And thou, send with us guides to lead us on,
And tell us how before their shrines to find
The altars of the Gods that guard the State,
And holy places columned round about;
And safety for us, as the town we traverse.
Not of like fashion is our features' stamp;
For Neilos rears not race like Inachos.
Take heed lest rashness lead to bloodshed here;
Ere now, unknowing, men have slain their friends.
King. Go then, my men; full well the stranger speaks;
And lead him where the city's altars stand,
The seats of Gods; and see ye talk not much
To passers-by as ye this traveller lead,
A suppliant at the altar-hearth of Gods.
Chor. Thou speak'st to him; and may he go as bidden!
But what shall I do? What hope giv'st thou me?
King. Leave here those boughs, the token of your grief.
Chor. Lo! here I leave them at thy beck and word.
King. Now turn thy steps towards this open lawn.
Chor. What shelter gives a lawn unconsecrate?
King. We will not yield thee up to birds of prey.
Chor. Nay, but to foes far worse than fiercest dragons.
King. Good words should come from those who good have heard.
Chor. No wonder they wax hot whom fear enthrals.
King. But dread is still for rulers all unmeet.
Chor. Do thou then cheer our soul by words and deeds.
King. Nay, no long time thy sire will leave thee lorn;
And I, all people of the land convening,
Will the great mass persuade to kindly words;
And I will teach thy father what to say.
Wherefore remain and ask our country's Gods,
With suppliant prayers, to grant thy soul's desire,
And I will go in furtherance of thy wish:
Sweet Suasion follow us, and Fortune good!

Strophe I

Chor. O King of kings! and blest
Above all blessed ones,
And Power most mighty of the mightiest!
O Zeus, of high estate!
Hear thou and grant our prayer!
Drive thou far off the wantonness of men,
The pride thou hatest sore,
And in the pool of darkling purple hue
Plunge thou the woe that comes in swarthy barque.

A NTISTROPHE I

Look on the women's cause;
Recall the ancient tale,
Of one whom Thou did'st love in time of old
The mother of our race:
Remember it, O Thou
Who did'st on Io lay thy mystic touch.
We boast that we are come
Of consecrated land the habitants,
And from this land by lineage high descended.

Strophe II

Now to the ancient track,
Our mother's, I have passed,
The flowery meadow-land where she was watched, —
The pastures of the herd,
Whence Io, by the stinging gadfly driven,
Flees, of her sense bereft,
Passing through many tribes of mortal men;
And then by Fate's decree
Crossing the billowy straits,
On either side she leaves a continent.

A NTISTROPHE II

Now through the Asian land
She hastens o'er and o'er,
Right through the Phrygian fields where feed the flocks;
And passes Teuthras' fort,
Owned by the Mysians, and the Lydian plains;
And o'er Kilikian hills,
And those of far Pamphylia rushing on,
By ever-flowing streams,
On to the deep, rich lands,
And Aphrodite's home in wheat o'erflowing.

Strophe III

And so she cometh, as that herdsman winged
Pierces with sharpest sting,
To holy plain all forms of life sustaining,
Fields that are fed from snows,
Which Typhon's monstrous strength has traversed,
And unto Neilos' streams,
By sickly taint untouched,
Still maddened with her toil of ignominy,
By torturing stings driven on, great Hera's frenzied slave.

A NTISTROPHE III

And those who then the lands inhabited,
Quivered with pallid fear,
That filled their soul at that unwonted marvel.
Seeing that monstrous shape,
The human joined with brute,
Half heifer, and half form of woman fair:
And sore amazed were they.
Who was it then that soothed
Poor Io, wandering in her sore affright,
Driven on, and ever on, by gadfly's maddening sting?

Strophe IV

Zeus, Lord of endless time
[Was seen All-working then;]
He, even He, for by his sovereign might
That works no ill, was she from evil freed;
And by his breath divine
She findeth rest, and weeps in floods of tears
Her sorrowing shame away;
And with new burden big,
Not falsely " Zeus-born" named,
She bare a son that grew in faultless growth,

A NTISTROPHE IV

Prosperous through long, long years;
And so the whole land shouts with one accord,
" Lo, a race sprung from him, the Lord of life,
In very deed, Zeus-born!
Who else had checked the plagues that Hera sent? "
This is the work of Zeus:
And speaking of our race
That sprang from Epaphos
As such, thou would'st not fail to hit the mark.

Strophe V

Which of the Gods could I with right invoke
As doing juster deeds?
He is our Father, author of our life,
The King whose right hand worketh all his will,
Our line's great author, in his counsels deep
Recording things of old,
Directing all his plans, the great work-master, Zeus.

A NTISTROPHE V

For not as subject hastening at the beck
Of strength above his own,
Reigns He subordinate to mightier powers;
Nor does He pay his homage from below,
While One sits throned in majesty above;
Act is for him as speech,
To hasten what his teeming mind resolves.

Re-enter D ANAOS

Dan. Be of good cheer, my children. All goes well
With those who dwell here, and the people's voice
Hath passed decrees full, firm, irrevocable
Chor. Hail, aged sire, that tell'st me right good news!
But say with what intent the vote hath passed,
And on which side the people's hands prevail.
Dan. The Argives have decreed without division,
So that my aged mind grew young again;
For in full congress, with their right hands raised
Rustled the air as they decreed their vote
That we should sojourn in their land as free,
Free from arrest, and with asylum rights;
And that no native here nor foreigner
Should lead us off; and, should he venture force,
That every citizen who gave not help
Dishonoured should be driven to exile forth.
Such counsel giving, the Pelasgian King
Gained their consent, proclaiming that great wrath
Of Zeus the God of suppliants ne'er would let
The city wax in fatness, — warning them
That double guilt upon the State would come,
Touching at once both guests and citizens,
The food and sustenance of sore disease
That none could heal. And then the Argive host,
Hearing these things, decreed by show of hands,
Not waiting for the herald's proclamation,
So it should be. They heard, indeed, the crowd
Of those Pelasgi, all the winning speech,
The well-turned phrases cunning to persuade;
But it was Zeus that brought the end to pass.
Chor. Come then, come, let us speak for Argives
Prayers that are good for good deeds done;
Zeus, who o'er all strangers watches,
May He regard with his praise and favour
The praise that comes from the lips of strangers,
And guide in all to a faultless issue.