Chorus
Ah! there I see the sepulchre ready e’en now for Capaneus, his consecrated tomb, and the votive offerings Theseus gives unto the dead outside the shrine, and nigh yon lightning-smitten chief
980
I see his noble bride, Evadne, daughter of King Iphis. Wherefore stands she on the towering rock, which o’ertops this temple, advancing along yon path?
985
Evadne
What light, what radiancy did the sun-god’s car dart forth, and the moon athwart the firmament, while round her in the gloom swift stars
1
careered,
990
in the day that the city of
Argos
raised the stately chant of joy at my wedding, in honour of my marriage with mail-clad Capaneus?
995
Now from my home in frantic haste with frenzied mind I rush to join thee, seeking to share with thee the fire’s bright flame and the self-same tomb, to rid me of my weary
1000
life in Hades’ halls, and of the pains of existence; yea, for ’tis the sweetest end to share the death of those we love, if only fate will sanction it.
1005
1009
Chorus
Behold yon pyre, which thou art overlooking, nigh thereto,
set apart for Zeus! There is thy husband’s body, vanquished by the blazing bolt.
1010
Evadne
Life’s goal I now behold from my station here; may fortune aid me in my headlong leap from this rock
in honour’s cause, down into the fire below, to mix my ashes in the ruddy blaze
1015
with my husband’s, to lay me side by side with him, there in the couch of Persephone; for ne’er will I, to save my life, prove untrue to thee where thou liest in thy grave.
1020
Away with life and marriage too! Oh!
2
may my children live to see the dawn of a fairer, happier wedding-day in
Argos
! May loyalty inspire the husband’s heart,
1025
his nature fusing with his wife’s!
1030
1031
Chorus
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
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
Iphis
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
Iphis
What! hath not thy own father a right to know?
Evadne
Thou wouldst not wisely judge my intention.
Iphis
Why dost thou deck thyself in that apparel?
Evadne
A purport strange this robe conveys, father.
1055
Iphis
Thou hast no look of mourning for thy lord.
Evadne
No, the reason why I thus am decked is strange, maybe.
Iphis
Dost thou in such garb appear before a funeral-pyre?
Evadne
Yea, for hither it is I come to take the meed of victory.
Iphis
Victory! what victory? This would I learn of thee.
1060
Evadne
A victory o’er all women on whom the sun looks down.
Iphis
In Athena’s handiwork or in prudent counsel?
Evadne
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?
Evadne
To yonder pyre where lies dead Capaneus, I will leap down.
1065
Iphis
My daughter, speak not thus before the multitude!
Evadne
The very thing I wish, that every Argive should learn it.
Iphis
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
Chorus
O lady, what a fearful deed!
Iphis
Ah me! I am undone, ye dames of
Argos
!
Chorus
chanting
Alack, alack! a cruel blow is this to thee,
but thou must yet witness, poor wretch, the full horror of this deed.
1075
Iphis
A more unhappy wretch than me ye could not find.
Chorus
Woe for thee, unhappy man! Thou, old sir, hast been made partaker in the fortune of Oedipus, thou and my poor city too.
1080
Iphis
Ah, why are mortal men denied this boon, to live their youth twice o’er, and twice in turn to reach old age? If aught goes wrong within our homes, we set it right by judgment more maturely formed, but our life we may not so correct. Now if we had a second spell of youth
1080
and age, this double term of life would let us then correct each previous slip. I, for instance, seeing others blest with children, longed to have them too, and found my ruin in that wish. Whereas if I had had my present experience,
1085
and by a father’s light
3
had learnt how cruel a thing it is to be bereft of children, never should I have fallen on such evil days as these,—I who did beget a brave young son, proud parent that I was, and after all am now bereft of him. Enough of this. What remains for such a hapless wretch as me?
1090
Shall I to my home, there to see its utter desolation and the blank within my life? or shall I to the halls of that dead Capaneus?—halls I smiled to see in days gone by, when yet my daughter was alive. But she is lost and gone, she that would ever draw down my cheek
1095
to her lips, and take my head between her hands; for naught is there more sweet unto an aged sire than a daughter’s love; our sons are made of sterner stuff, but less winning are their caresses. Oh! take me to my house at once,
1100
in darkness hide me there, to waste and fret this aged frame with fasting! What shall it avail me to touch my daughter’s bones? Old age, resistless foe, how do I loathe thy presence! Them too I hate, whoso desire to lengthen out the span of life,
1105
seeking to turn the tide of death aside by philtres,
4
drugs, and magic spells,—folk that death should take away to leave the young their place, when they no more can benefit the world.
1110
The Suppliant Maidens. Euripides. E. P. Coleridge (Translator). London. 1906.
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