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Chorus
Joy is here and sorrow too,—
for the state fair fame, and for our captains double meed of honour. Bitter for me it is to see the limbs of my dead sons, and yet a welcome sight withal, because I shall behold the unexpected day
780
after sorrow’s cup was full.
785
Joy is here and sorrow too,—
for the state fair fame, and for our captains double meed of honour. Bitter for me it is to see the limbs of my dead sons, and yet a welcome sight withal, because I shall behold the unexpected day
780
after sorrow’s cup was full.
785
Chorus
Would that Father Time had kept me unwed from my youth up e’en till now when I am old! What need had I of children?
Methinks I should not have suffered excessively, had I never borne the marriage-yoke; but now I have my sorrow full in view, the loss of children dear.
790
Would that Father Time had kept me unwed from my youth up e’en till now when I am old! What need had I of children?
Methinks I should not have suffered excessively, had I never borne the marriage-yoke; but now I have my sorrow full in view, the loss of children dear.
790
Chorus
Lo! I see the bodies
of the fallen youths. Woe is me! would I could join these children in their death and descend to Hades with them!
795
Lo! I see the bodies
of the fallen youths. Woe is me! would I could join these children in their death and descend to Hades with them!
795
Adrastus
Mothers, raise the wail for the dead departed;
cry in answer when ye hear my note of woe.
800
Mothers, raise the wail for the dead departed;
cry in answer when ye hear my note of woe.
800
Chorus
My sons, my sons! O bitter words for loving mothers to address to you! To thee, my lifeless child, I call.
My sons, my sons! O bitter words for loving mothers to address to you! To thee, my lifeless child, I call.
Adrastus
Woe! woe!
805
Woe! woe!
805
Chorus
Ah me, my sufferings!
Ah me, my sufferings!
Adrastus
Alas!
Alas!
Chorus
Adrastus
We have endured, alas!—
We have endured, alas!—
Chorus
Sorrows most grievous.
Sorrows most grievous.
Adrastus
O citizens of
Argos
! do ye not behold my fate?
O citizens of
Argos
! do ye not behold my fate?
Chorus
They see thee, and me the hapless mother,
reft of her children.
810
They see thee, and me the hapless mother,
reft of her children.
810
Adrastus
Bring near the blood-boltered corpses of those hapless chiefs, foully slain by foes unworthy, with whom lay the decision of the contest.
Bring near the blood-boltered corpses of those hapless chiefs, foully slain by foes unworthy, with whom lay the decision of the contest.
Chorus
Let me embrace and hold my children to my bosom in my enfolding arms.
815
Let me embrace and hold my children to my bosom in my enfolding arms.
815
Adrastus
There, there! thou hast—
There, there! thou hast—
Chorus
Sorrows heavy enough to bear.
Sorrows heavy enough to bear.
Adrastus
Ah me!
Ah me!
Chorus
Thy groans mingle with those of their parents.
2
Thy groans mingle with those of their parents.
2
Adrastus
Hear me.
820
Hear me.
820
Chorus
O’er both of us thou dost lament.
O’er both of us thou dost lament.
Adrastus
Would God the Theban ranks had laid me dead in the dust!
Would God the Theban ranks had laid me dead in the dust!
Chorus
Oh that I had ne’er been wedded to a husband!
Oh that I had ne’er been wedded to a husband!
Adrastus
Behold this sea of troubles!
3
Ah! hapless mothers.
825
Behold this sea of troubles!
3
Ah! hapless mothers.
825
Chorus
Our nails have ploughed our cheeks in furrows, and o’er our heads have we strewn ashes.
Our nails have ploughed our cheeks in furrows, and o’er our heads have we strewn ashes.
Adrastus
Ah me! ah me! Oh that earth’s floor would swallow me,
or the whirlwind snatch me away, or Zeus’s flaming bolt descend upon my head!
830
Ah me! ah me! Oh that earth’s floor would swallow me,
or the whirlwind snatch me away, or Zeus’s flaming bolt descend upon my head!
830
Chorus
Bitter the marriages thou didst witness, bitter the oracle of Phoebus!
The curse of Oedipus, fraught with sorrow, after desolating
4
his house, is come on thee.
835
Bitter the marriages thou didst witness, bitter the oracle of Phoebus!
The curse of Oedipus, fraught with sorrow, after desolating
4
his house, is come on thee.
835
The Suppliant Maidens. Euripides. E. P. Coleridge (Translator). London. 1906.
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