These swathing bands,thy mother's virgin work,Wove by my flying shuttle,round thy body I roll'd;but from thy lips my breast withheld,A mother's nouriture,nor bathed thy bands In cleansing lavers;but to death exposed thee,Laid in the dreary cave,to birds of prey A feast,rent piecemeal by their ravenous beaks.
ION
Cruel,my mother,was thy deed.
CREUSA
By fear Constrain'd,my son,I cast thy life away;Unwillingly I left thee there to die.
ION
And from my hands unholy were thy death.
CREUSA
Dreadful was then my fortune,dreadful here,Whirl'd by the eddying blast from misery there To misery here,and back again to joy:
Her boisterous winds are changed;may she remain In this repose:enough of ills are past:
After the storm soft breathes a favouring gale.
LEADER
From this example,mid the greatest ills Never let mortal man abandon hope.
ION
O thou,that hast to thousands wrought a change Of state ere this,involving them in ills,And raising them to happiness again;Fortune,to what a point have I been carried,Ready to kill my mother,horrid thought!
But in the sun's bright course each day affords Instruction.Thee,my mother,have I found,In that discovery bless'd;nor hath my birth Aught I can blame:yet one thing would I say To thee alone:-walk this way:to thine ear In secret would I whisper this,and throw The veil of darkness o'er each circumstance.
Take heed,my mother,lest thy maiden fault Seeks in these secret nuptials to conceal Its fault,then charges on the god the deed;And,fearing my reproach,to Phoebus gives A son,to Phoebus whom thou didst not bear.
CREUSA
By her,who 'gainst the giants in her car Fought by the side of Jove,victorious Pallas,No one of mortal race is father to thee,But he who brought thee up,the royal Phoebus.
ION
Why give his son then to another father?
Why say that I was born the son of Xuthus?
CREUSA
Not born the son of Xuthus;but he gives thee,Born from himself (as friend to friend may give His son,and heir adopted to his house.
ION
True is the god,his tripod else were vain.
Not without cause then is my mind perplex'd.
CREUSA
Hear what my thoughts suggest:to work thee good Apollo placed thee in a noble house.
Acknowledged his,the rich inheritance Could not be thine,nor could a father's name;For I conceal'd my nuptials,and had plann'd To kill thee secretly:for this the god In kindness gives thee to another father.
ION
My mind is prompt to entertain such thoughts;But,entering at his shrine will I inquire If from a mortal father I am sprung,Or from Apollo.-Ha!what may this be?
What god above the hallow'd dome unveils His radiant face that shines another sun?
Haste,let us fly:the presence of the gods 'Tis not for mortals to behold,and live.
(MINERVA appears from above.)
MINERVA
Fly not;in me no enemy you fly;