Euripides, The Suppliant Maidens, Johann Jakob Christian Donner (Translator), 1123

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Ich bringe, bring', unselige Mutter,

Aus der Glut des Vaters Asche,

Nicht leichte Last mir, weil der Schmerz mich niederbeugt:
1110

Alles, was mein, barg ich in kleinem Raume.

Weh, weh!

Zweiter Halbchor.

Knabe, Thränen bringst du der

Mutter dieser Todten, bringst

Ein kleines Hauslein Asche statt der Helden, die

Ehe so groß waren in Mykend!
1115

Der Knabe.

The Suppliant Maidens. Euripides. Johann Jakob Christian Donner (Translator). . .

Current edition Experimental

German (J. J. C. Donner, 1852; OCR review) (OCR draft) (German) (Euripides. Deutsch in den Versmaßen der Urschrift. Volume 3, Heidelberg: C. F. Winter, 1852. Harvard OCR compared with an independent BSB copy. Native Donner verse citations, Murray reference cards, explicitly located notes and page facsimiles. Unresolved OCR, verse divisions, unlocated notes and printed errata are documented in the source review.)

Provisional text from uncorrected OCR; expect errors.

Editions (1)

Ἱκέτιδες Perseus (Euripides. Euripidis Fabulae, Vol. II. Murray, Gilbert, editor. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1913. (Reprinted 1921-1962)) — 1114-1164 focus

Χορός

— ἰὼ ἰώ·

τάδε δὴ παίδων καὶ δὴ φθιμένων

ὀστᾶ φέρεται. λάβετʼ, ἀμφίπολοι,
1115

γραίας ἀμενοῦς — οὐ γὰρ ἔνεστιν

ῥώμη παίδων ὑπὸ πένθους —

πολλοῦ τε χρόνου ζώσης μέτρα δὴ

καταλειβομένης τʼ ἄλγεσι πολλοῖς.

τί γὰρ ἂν μεῖζον τοῦδʼ ἔτι θνητοῖς
1120

πάθος ἐξεύροις

ἢ τέκνα θανόντʼ ἐσιδέσθαι;

1123

Παῖδες

— φέρω φέρω,

τάλαινα μᾶτερ, ἐκ πυρὸς πατρὸς μέλη,

βάρος μὲν οὐκ ἀβριθὲς ἀλγέων ὕπερ,
1125

ἐν δʼ ὀλίγῳ τἀμὰ πάντα συνθείς.

Χορός

— ἰὼ ἰώ,

πᾶ φέρεις δάκρυα φίλᾳ

ματρὶ τῶν ὀλωλότων;

σποδοῦ τε πλῆθος ὀλίγον ἀντὶ σωμάτων
1130

εὐδοκίμων δήποτʼ ἐν Μυκήναις;

1132

Παῖδες

— ἄπαις, ἄπαις·

ἐγὼ δʼ ἔρημος ἀθλίου πατρὸς τάλας

ἔρημον οἶκον ὀρφανεύσομαι λαβών,

οὐ πατρὸς ἐν χερσὶ τοῦ τεκόντος.

Χορός

— ἰὼ ἰώ·
1135

ποῦ δὲ πόνος ἐμῶν τέκνων,

ποῦ λοχευμάτων χάρις;

τροφαί τε ματρὸς ἄυπνά τʼ ὀμμάτων τέλη,

καὶ φίλιαι προσβολαὶ προσώπων;

1139

Παῖδες

— βεβᾶσιν, οὐκέτʼ εἰσίν· οἴμοι πάτερ·

βεβᾶσιν.
1140

Χορός

αἰθὴρ ἔχει νιν ἤδη,

πυρὸς τετακότας σποδῷ·

ποτανοὶ δʼ ἤνυσαν τὸν Ἅιδαν.

Παῖδες

— πάτερ, μῶν σῶν κλύεις τέκνων γόους;

ἆρʼ ἀσπιδοῦχος ἔτι ποτʼ ἀντιτάσσομαι

σὸν φόνον — εἰ γὰρ γένοιτο — τεκνῶν;
1145

1146

Παῖδες

— ἔτʼ ἂν θεοῦ θέλοντος ἔλθοι δίκα

πατρῷος·

Χορός

οὔπω κακὸν τόδʼ εὕδει.

αἰαῖ γόων· ἅλις τύχας,

ἅλις δʼ ἀλγέων ἐμοὶ πάρεστι.

Παῖδες

— ἔτʼ Ἀσωποῦ με δέξεται γάνος
1150

χαλκέοις ἐν ὅπλοις Δαναϊδῶν στρατηλάταν,

τοῦ φθιμένου πατρὸς ἐκδικαστάν.

1153

Παῖδες

— ἔτʼ εἰσορᾶν σε, πάτερ, ἐπʼ ὀμμάτων δοκῶ

Χορός

— φίλον φίλημα παρὰ γένυν τιθέντα σόν.

Παῖδες

— λόγων δὲ παρακέλευσμα σῶν
1155

ἀέρι φερόμενον οἴχεται.

Χορός

— δυοῖν δʼ ἄχη, ματρί τʼ ἔλιπεν —

σέ τʼ οὔποτʼ ἄλγη πατρῷα λείψει.

1159

Παῖδες

— ἔχω τοσόνδε βάρος ὅσον μʼ ἀπώλεσεν.

Χορός

— φέρʼ, ἀμφὶ μαστὸν ὑποβάλω φίλαν σποδόν.
1160

Παῖδες

— ἔκλαυσα τόδε κλύων ἔπος

στυγνότατον· ἔθιγέ μου φρενῶν.

Χορός

— ὦ τέκνον, ἔβας· οὐκέτι φίλον

φίλας ἄγαλμʼ ὄψομαί σε ματρός.

Translations (2)

The Suppliants Perseus (Euripides. The Plays of Euripides, Vol. I. Coleridge, Edward P., translator. London: George Bell and Sons, 1906.) — 1114-1163 focus

Chorus

Woe, woe! Behold your dead sons’

bones are brought hither; take them, servants of your weak old mistress, for in me is no strength left by reason of my mourning for my sons; time’s comrade long have I been, and many a tear for many a sorrow have I shed.
1115

For what sharper pang wilt thou ever find for mortals than the sight of children dead?
1120

1123

Children

Poor mother mine, behold I bring my father’s bones gathered from the fire,

a burden grief has rendered heavy, though this tiny urn contains my all.
1125

Chorus

Ah me! ah me! Why bear thy tearful load to the fond mother of the dead,

a handful of ashes in the stead of those who erst were men of mark in Mycenae?
1130

1132

Children

Woe worth the hour! woe worth the day! Reft of my hapless sire, a wretched orphan shall I inherit a desolate house, torn from my father’s arms.

Chorus

Woe is thee! Where is now the toil I spent upon my sons? what thank have I for nightly watch? Where the mother’s nursing care? the sleepless vigils mine eyes have kept? the loving kiss upon my children’s brow?
1135

1139

Children

Thy sons are dead and gone. Poor mother!

dead and gone; the boundless air now wraps them round.¹
1140

Chorus

Turned to ashes by the flame, they have winged their flight to Hades.²

Children

Father, thou hearest thy children’s lamentation; say, shall I e’er, as warrior dight, avenge thy slaughter?

Chorus

God grant it, O my child!
1145

1146

Children

Some day, if god so will, shall the avenging of my father be my task; not yet this sorrow sleeps.

Chorus

Alas! Fortune’s sorrows are enough for me, I have troubles and to spare already.

Children

Shall Asopus’ laughing tide ever reflect my brazen arms as I lead on my Argive troops?
1150

Chorus

To avenge thy fallen sire.

1153

Children

Methinks I see thee still before my eyes, my father—

Chorus

Printing a loving kiss upon thy cheek.

Children

But thy words of exhortation are borne on the winds away.
1155

Chorus

Two mourners hath he left behind, thy mother and thee, bequeathing to thee an endless legacy of grief for thy father.

1159

Children

The weight of grief I have to bear hath crushed me utterly.

Chorus

Come, let me clasp the ashes of my son to my bosom.
1160

Children

I weep to hear that piteous word; it stabs me to the heart.

Chorus

My child, thou art undone; no more shall I behold thee, thy own fond mother’s treasure.

The Supplicants (OCR draft) Experimental (The Supplicants. Robert Potter's English verse translation, first published in 1781–1783; text from the 1808 Oxford printing.)

No corresponding passage available

Search the Perseus Catalog for:

Search the Perseus Catalog for:

Ich bringe, bring', unselige Mutter, Aus der Glut des Vaters Asche, Nicht leichte Last mir, weil der Schmerz mich niederbeugt: 1110 Alles, was mein, barg ich in kleinem Raume. Weh, weh!

Zweiter Halbchor. Knabe, Thränen bringst du der Mutter dieser Todten, bringst Ein kleines Hauslein Asche statt der Helden, die Ehe so groß waren in Mykend! 1115

Der Knabe.

Current edition Experimental

Παῖδες — φέρω φέρω, τάλαινα μᾶτερ, ἐκ πυρὸς πατρὸς μέλη, βάρος μὲν οὐκ ἀβριθὲς ἀλγέων ὕπερ, 1125 ἐν δʼ ὀλίγῳ τἀμὰ πάντα συνθείς.

Χορός — ἰὼ ἰώ, πᾶ φέρεις δάκρυα φίλᾳ ματρὶ τῶν ὀλωλότων; σποδοῦ τε πλῆθος ὀλίγον ἀντὶ σωμάτων 1130 εὐδοκίμων δήποτʼ ἐν Μυκήναις;

Παῖδες — ἄπαις, ἄπαις· ἐγὼ δʼ ἔρημος ἀθλίου πατρὸς τάλας ἔρημον οἶκον ὀρφανεύσομαι λαβών, οὐ πατρὸς ἐν χερσὶ τοῦ τεκόντος.

Χορός — ἰὼ ἰώ· 1135 ποῦ δὲ πόνος ἐμῶν τέκνων, ποῦ λοχευμάτων χάρις; τροφαί τε ματρὸς ἄυπνά τʼ ὀμμάτων τέλη, καὶ φίλιαι προσβολαὶ προσώπων;

Παῖδες — βεβᾶσιν, οὐκέτʼ εἰσίν· οἴμοι πάτερ· βεβᾶσιν. 1140

Χορός αἰθὴρ ἔχει νιν ἤδη, πυρὸς τετακότας σποδῷ· ποτανοὶ δʼ ἤνυσαν τὸν Ἅιδαν.

Παῖδες — πάτερ, μῶν σῶν κλύεις τέκνων γόους; ἆρʼ ἀσπιδοῦχος ἔτι ποτʼ ἀντιτάσσομαι σὸν φόνον — εἰ γὰρ γένοιτο — τεκνῶν; 1145

Παῖδες — ἔτʼ ἂν θεοῦ θέλοντος ἔλθοι δίκα πατρῷος·

Χορός οὔπω κακὸν τόδʼ εὕδει. αἰαῖ γόων· ἅλις τύχας, ἅλις δʼ ἀλγέων ἐμοὶ πάρεστι.

Παῖδες — ἔτʼ Ἀσωποῦ με δέξεται γάνος 1150 χαλκέοις ἐν ὅπλοις Δαναϊδῶν στρατηλάταν, τοῦ φθιμένου πατρὸς ἐκδικαστάν.

Παῖδες — ἔτʼ εἰσορᾶν σε, πάτερ, ἐπʼ ὀμμάτων δοκῶ

Χορός — φίλον φίλημα παρὰ γένυν τιθέντα σόν.

Παῖδες — λόγων δὲ παρακέλευσμα σῶν 1155 ἀέρι φερόμενον οἴχεται.

Χορός — δυοῖν δʼ ἄχη, ματρί τʼ ἔλιπεν — σέ τʼ οὔποτʼ ἄλγη πατρῷα λείψει.

Παῖδες — ἔχω τοσόνδε βάρος ὅσον μʼ ἀπώλεσεν.

Χορός — φέρʼ, ἀμφὶ μαστὸν ὑποβάλω φίλαν σποδόν. 1160

Παῖδες — ἔκλαυσα τόδε κλύων ἔπος στυγνότατον· ἔθιγέ μου φρενῶν.

Χορός — ὦ τέκνον, ἔβας· οὐκέτι φίλον φίλας ἄγαλμʼ ὄψομαί σε ματρός.

Children Poor mother mine, behold I bring my father’s bones gathered from the fire, a burden grief has rendered heavy, though this tiny urn contains my all. 1125

Chorus Ah me! ah me! Why bear thy tearful load to the fond mother of the dead, a handful of ashes in the stead of those who erst were men of mark in Mycenae? 1130

Children Woe worth the hour! woe worth the day! Reft of my hapless sire, a wretched orphan shall I inherit a desolate house, torn from my father’s arms.

Chorus Woe is thee! Where is now the toil I spent upon my sons? what thank have I for nightly watch? Where the mother’s nursing care? the sleepless vigils mine eyes have kept? the loving kiss upon my children’s brow? 1135

Children Thy sons are dead and gone. Poor mother! dead and gone; the boundless air now wraps them round. 1 1140

Chorus Turned to ashes by the flame, they have winged their flight to Hades. 2

Children Father, thou hearest thy children’s lamentation; say, shall I e’er, as warrior dight, avenge thy slaughter?

Chorus God grant it, O my child! 1145

Children Some day, if god so will, shall the avenging of my father be my task; not yet this sorrow sleeps.

Chorus Alas! Fortune’s sorrows are enough for me, I have troubles and to spare already.

Children Shall Asopus’ laughing tide ever reflect my brazen arms as I lead on my Argive troops? 1150

Chorus To avenge thy fallen sire.

Children Methinks I see thee still before my eyes, my father—

Chorus Printing a loving kiss upon thy cheek.

Children But thy words of exhortation are borne on the winds away. 1155

Chorus Two mourners hath he left behind, thy mother and thee, bequeathing to thee an endless legacy of grief for thy father.

Children The weight of grief I have to bear hath crushed me utterly.

Chorus Come, let me clasp the ashes of my son to my bosom. 1160

Children I weep to hear that piteous word; it stabs me to the heart.

Chorus My child, thou art undone; no more shall I behold thee, thy own fond mother’s treasure.

Stable identifiers

Ich bringe, bring', unselige Mutter,

Aus der Glut des Vaters Asche,

Nicht leichte Last mir, weil der Schmerz mich niederbeugt:
1110

Alles, was mein, barg ich in kleinem Raume.

Weh, weh!

Zweiter Halbchor.

Knabe, Thränen bringst du der

Mutter dieser Todten, bringst

Ein kleines Hauslein Asche statt der Helden, die

Ehe so groß waren in Mykend!
1115

Παῖδες

— φέρω φέρω,

τάλαινα μᾶτερ, ἐκ πυρὸς πατρὸς μέλη,

βάρος μὲν οὐκ ἀβριθὲς ἀλγέων ὕπερ,
1125

ἐν δʼ ὀλίγῳ τἀμὰ πάντα συνθείς.

Χορός

— ἰὼ ἰώ,

πᾶ φέρεις δάκρυα φίλᾳ

ματρὶ τῶν ὀλωλότων;

σποδοῦ τε πλῆθος ὀλίγον ἀντὶ σωμάτων
1130

εὐδοκίμων δήποτʼ ἐν Μυκήναις;

Παῖδες

— ἄπαις, ἄπαις·

ἐγὼ δʼ ἔρημος ἀθλίου πατρὸς τάλας

ἔρημον οἶκον ὀρφανεύσομαι λαβών,

οὐ πατρὸς ἐν χερσὶ τοῦ τεκόντος.

Χορός

— ἰὼ ἰώ·
1135

ποῦ δὲ πόνος ἐμῶν τέκνων,

ποῦ λοχευμάτων χάρις;

τροφαί τε ματρὸς ἄυπνά τʼ ὀμμάτων τέλη,

καὶ φίλιαι προσβολαὶ προσώπων;

Παῖδες

— βεβᾶσιν, οὐκέτʼ εἰσίν· οἴμοι πάτερ·

βεβᾶσιν.
1140

Χορός

αἰθὴρ ἔχει νιν ἤδη,

πυρὸς τετακότας σποδῷ·

ποτανοὶ δʼ ἤνυσαν τὸν Ἅιδαν.

Παῖδες

— πάτερ, μῶν σῶν κλύεις τέκνων γόους;

ἆρʼ ἀσπιδοῦχος ἔτι ποτʼ ἀντιτάσσομαι

σὸν φόνον — εἰ γὰρ γένοιτο — τεκνῶν;
1145

Παῖδες

— ἔτʼ ἂν θεοῦ θέλοντος ἔλθοι δίκα

πατρῷος·

Χορός

οὔπω κακὸν τόδʼ εὕδει.

αἰαῖ γόων· ἅλις τύχας,

ἅλις δʼ ἀλγέων ἐμοὶ πάρεστι.

Παῖδες

— ἔτʼ Ἀσωποῦ με δέξεται γάνος
1150

χαλκέοις ἐν ὅπλοις Δαναϊδῶν στρατηλάταν,

τοῦ φθιμένου πατρὸς ἐκδικαστάν.

Παῖδες

— ἔτʼ εἰσορᾶν σε, πάτερ, ἐπʼ ὀμμάτων δοκῶ

Χορός

— φίλον φίλημα παρὰ γένυν τιθέντα σόν.

Παῖδες

— λόγων δὲ παρακέλευσμα σῶν
1155

ἀέρι φερόμενον οἴχεται.

Χορός

— δυοῖν δʼ ἄχη, ματρί τʼ ἔλιπεν —

σέ τʼ οὔποτʼ ἄλγη πατρῷα λείψει.

Παῖδες

— ἔχω τοσόνδε βάρος ὅσον μʼ ἀπώλεσεν.

Χορός

— φέρʼ, ἀμφὶ μαστὸν ὑποβάλω φίλαν σποδόν.
1160

Παῖδες

— ἔκλαυσα τόδε κλύων ἔπος

στυγνότατον· ἔθιγέ μου φρενῶν.

Χορός

— ὦ τέκνον, ἔβας· οὐκέτι φίλον

φίλας ἄγαλμʼ ὄψομαί σε ματρός.

Children

Poor mother mine, behold I bring my father’s bones gathered from the fire,

a burden grief has rendered heavy, though this tiny urn contains my all.
1125

Chorus

Ah me! ah me! Why bear thy tearful load to the fond mother of the dead,

a handful of ashes in the stead of those who erst were men of mark in Mycenae?
1130

Children

Woe worth the hour! woe worth the day! Reft of my hapless sire, a wretched orphan shall I inherit a desolate house, torn from my father’s arms.

Chorus

Woe is thee! Where is now the toil I spent upon my sons? what thank have I for nightly watch? Where the mother’s nursing care? the sleepless vigils mine eyes have kept? the loving kiss upon my children’s brow?
1135

Children

Thy sons are dead and gone. Poor mother!

dead and gone; the boundless air now wraps them round.¹
1140

Chorus

Turned to ashes by the flame, they have winged their flight to Hades.²

Children

Father, thou hearest thy children’s lamentation; say, shall I e’er, as warrior dight, avenge thy slaughter?

Chorus

God grant it, O my child!
1145

Children

Some day, if god so will, shall the avenging of my father be my task; not yet this sorrow sleeps.

Chorus

Alas! Fortune’s sorrows are enough for me, I have troubles and to spare already.

Children

Shall Asopus’ laughing tide ever reflect my brazen arms as I lead on my Argive troops?
1150

Chorus

To avenge thy fallen sire.

Children

Methinks I see thee still before my eyes, my father—

Chorus

Printing a loving kiss upon thy cheek.

Children

But thy words of exhortation are borne on the winds away.
1155

Chorus

Two mourners hath he left behind, thy mother and thee, bequeathing to thee an endless legacy of grief for thy father.

Children

The weight of grief I have to bear hath crushed me utterly.

Chorus

Come, let me clasp the ashes of my son to my bosom.
1160

Children

I weep to hear that piteous word; it stabs me to the heart.

Chorus

My child, thou art undone; no more shall I behold thee, thy own fond mother’s treasure.