Chorus
We share the good luck of thy house; but still I could have wished my mistress too, and Erechtheus’ line, had been blest with children.
Xuthus
My son, albeit the god hath for thy discovery brought his oracle
to a true issue, and united thee to me, while thou, too, hast found what most thou dost desire, till now unconscious of it; still, as touching this anxiety so proper in thee, I feel an equal yearning that thou, my child, mayst find thy mother, and I the wife that bare thee unto me.
570
Maybe we shall discover this, if we leave it to time. But now leave the courts of the god, and this homeless life of thine, and come to
Athens
, in accordance with thy fathers wishes, for there his happy realm and bounteous wealth await thee; nor shalt thou
575
be taunted with base origin and poverty to boot, because in one of these respects thou something lackest, but thou shalt be renowned alike for birth and wealth. Art silent? why dost fix thy eyes upon the ground? Thou art lost in thought, and by this sudden change from thy former cheerfulness, thou strikest thy father with dismay.
580
Ion
Things assume a different form according as we see them before us, or far off. I am glad at what has happened, since I have found in thee a father; but hear me on some points which I am now deciding.
585
Athens
, I am told,—that glorious city of a native race,—owns no aliens; in which case I shall force my entrance there under a twofold disadvantage, as an alien’s son and base-born as I am. Branded with this reproach, while as yet I am unsupported, I shall get the name of a mere nobody, a son of nobodies;
590
and if I win my way to the highest place in the state, and seek to be some one, I shall be hated by those who have no influence, for superiority is galling; while ’mongst men of worth who could show their wisdom, but are silent, and take no interest in politics,
595
I shall incur ridicule and be thought a fool for not keeping quiet in such a fault-finding city. Again, if I win a name amongst the men of mark who are engaged in politics, still more will jealous votes bar my progress; for thus, father, is it ever wont to be;
600
they who have the city’s ear, and have already made their mark, are most bitter against all rivals.
605
Ion. Euripides. Edward P. Coleridge (Translator). London. 1906.
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