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Chorus
Rise, hapless one, from the sacred floor of Persephone; rise, clasp him by the knees and implore him,
O recover the bodies of our dead sons, the children that I lost—ah, woe is me!—beneath the walls of Cadmus’ town.
Ah me! ah me!
1
Take me by the hand, poor aged sufferer that I am, support and guide and raise me up. By thy beard, kind friend, glory of
Hellas
, I do beseech thee, as I clasp thy knees and hands in my misery;
275
O pity me as I entreat for my sons with my tale of wretched woe, like
2
some beggar; nor let my sons lie there unburied in the land of Cadmus, glad prey for beasts, whilst thou art in thy prime, I implore thee. See the teardrop tremble in my eye,
280
as thus I throw me at thy knees to win my children burial.
285
Rise, hapless one, from the sacred floor of Persephone; rise, clasp him by the knees and implore him,
O recover the bodies of our dead sons, the children that I lost—ah, woe is me!—beneath the walls of Cadmus’ town.
Ah me! ah me!
1
Take me by the hand, poor aged sufferer that I am, support and guide and raise me up. By thy beard, kind friend, glory of
Hellas
, I do beseech thee, as I clasp thy knees and hands in my misery;
275
O pity me as I entreat for my sons with my tale of wretched woe, like
2
some beggar; nor let my sons lie there unburied in the land of Cadmus, glad prey for beasts, whilst thou art in thy prime, I implore thee. See the teardrop tremble in my eye,
280
as thus I throw me at thy knees to win my children burial.
285
The Suppliant Maidens. Euripides. E. P. Coleridge (Translator). London. 1906.
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