Chorus
But now I find
the impetuous god of war has come to battle before the walls, and is kindling a murderous blaze—may he not succeed!—for this city. For a friend’s pain is shared, and if this land with its seven towers
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suffers any mischance,
Phoenicia
’s realm will share it. Ah me! our blood is one; we are all children of Io, the horned maid; these sorrows I claim as mine.
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The Phoenician Women. Euripides. Edward P. Coleridge (Translator). London. 1891.
Sponsored by Perseus Project, Tufts University.
Funding provided by The Annenberg CPB/Project.