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Chorus
Lo! the aged Iphis, thy father, draweth nigh to hear thy startling scheme, which yet he knows not and will grieve to learn.
Lo! the aged Iphis, thy father, draweth nigh to hear thy startling scheme, which yet he knows not and will grieve to learn.
Iphis
Unhappy child! lo! I am come, a poor old man,
with twofold sorrow in my house to mourn, that I may carry to his native land the corpse of my son Eteocles, slain by the Theban spear, and further in quest of my daughter who rushed headlong from the house, for she was the wife of Capaneus
1035
and longed with him to die. Ere this she was well guarded in my house, but, when I took the watch away in the present troubles, she escaped. But I feel sure that she is here; tell me if ye have seen her.
1040
Unhappy child! lo! I am come, a poor old man,
with twofold sorrow in my house to mourn, that I may carry to his native land the corpse of my son Eteocles, slain by the Theban spear, and further in quest of my daughter who rushed headlong from the house, for she was the wife of Capaneus
1035
and longed with him to die. Ere this she was well guarded in my house, but, when I took the watch away in the present troubles, she escaped. But I feel sure that she is here; tell me if ye have seen her.
1040
Evadne
Why question them? Lo, here upon the rock, father, o’er the pyre of Capaneus, like some bird I hover lightly, in my wretchedness.
1045
Why question them? Lo, here upon the rock, father, o’er the pyre of Capaneus, like some bird I hover lightly, in my wretchedness.
1045
Iphis
What wind hath blown thee hither, child? Whither away? Why didst thou pass the threshold of my house and seek this land?
What wind hath blown thee hither, child? Whither away? Why didst thou pass the threshold of my house and seek this land?
Evadne
It would but anger thee to hear what I intend, and so I fain would keep thee ignorant, my father.
1050
It would but anger thee to hear what I intend, and so I fain would keep thee ignorant, my father.
1050
Iphis
What! hath not thy own father a right to know?
What! hath not thy own father a right to know?
Evadne
Thou wouldst not wisely judge my intention.
Thou wouldst not wisely judge my intention.
Iphis
Why dost thou deck thyself in that apparel?
Why dost thou deck thyself in that apparel?
Evadne
A purport strange this robe conveys, father.
1055
A purport strange this robe conveys, father.
1055
Iphis
Thou hast no look of mourning for thy lord.
Thou hast no look of mourning for thy lord.
Evadne
No, the reason why I thus am decked is strange, maybe.
No, the reason why I thus am decked is strange, maybe.
Iphis
Dost thou in such garb appear before a funeral-pyre?
Dost thou in such garb appear before a funeral-pyre?
Evadne
Yea, for hither it is I come to take the meed of victory.
Yea, for hither it is I come to take the meed of victory.
Iphis
Victory! what victory? This would I learn of thee.
1060
Victory! what victory? This would I learn of thee.
1060
Evadne
A victory o’er all women on whom the sun looks down.
A victory o’er all women on whom the sun looks down.
Iphis
In Athena’s handiwork or in prudent counsel?
In Athena’s handiwork or in prudent counsel?
Evadne
In bravery; for I will lay me down and die with my lord.
In bravery; for I will lay me down and die with my lord.
Iphis
What dost thou say? What is this silly riddle thou propoundest?
What dost thou say? What is this silly riddle thou propoundest?
Evadne
To yonder pyre where lies dead Capaneus, I will leap down.
1065
To yonder pyre where lies dead Capaneus, I will leap down.
1065
Iphis
My daughter, speak not thus before the multitude!
My daughter, speak not thus before the multitude!
Evadne
The very thing I wish, that every Argive should learn it.
The very thing I wish, that every Argive should learn it.
Iphis
Nay, I will ne’er consent to let thee do this deed.
Nay, I will ne’er consent to let thee do this deed.
Evadne
(as she is throwing herself). ’Tis all one; thou shalt never catch me in thy grasp.
Lo! I cast me down, no joy to thee, but to myself and to my husband blazing on the pyre with me.
1070
(as she is throwing herself). ’Tis all one; thou shalt never catch me in thy grasp.
Lo! I cast me down, no joy to thee, but to myself and to my husband blazing on the pyre with me.
1070
The Suppliant Maidens. Euripides. E. P. Coleridge (Translator). London. 1906.
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