PERSONS OF THE DRAMA.

ETHRA.

CHORUS OF ARGIVE MATRONS.

THESEUS.

ADRASTUS.

HERALD.

MESSENGER.

EVADNE.

IPHIS.

A BOY, SUPPOSED TO BE MELON THE SON OF ETEOCLUS.
MINERVA.

SCENE THE TEMPLE OF CERES, AT ELEUSINE, IN THE

ATHENIAN TERRITORY.

THE SUPPLIANTS.

ETHRA, CHORUS, ADRASTUS.

ÆTHRA.

THOU guardian power of Eleusine's land,
O Ceres, and ye venerable Priests

Of that benignant Goddess, who attend
This temple, blessings for myself I crave,
For my son Theseus, Athens, and the (1) realm
Of Pitheus, who, when his paternal care,
Had rear'd my childhood in a wealthy house,
Gave me to Ægeus, to Pandion's son,
So Phoebus' oracles decreed. These prayers
I offer'd up when I yon aged Matrons
Beheld, who their abodes at Argos leave,
And with their suppliant branches at my knees
Fall prostrate, having suffer'd dreadful woes:
Now are they childless; for before the gates
Of Thebes were slain their seven illustrious sons
Whom erst Adrastus King of Argos led
To battle, when for exil'd Polynices.
His son in law, he strove to gain a share
Of Oedipus' inheritance. The corses

Of those who by the hostile spear were slain

Their Mothers would consign to earth; but spurning
The laws which righteous Heaven ordain'd, the victors
Will not allow them to remove the dead.

But needing equally with them my succour
Adrastus shedding many a tear, lies stretcht
On earth, bewailing the disastrous fate
Of those brave troops whom he to battle led.
Oft he conjures me to implore my son,
Either by treaty, or his forceful spear,

(1) Trozene.

Back from those hostile fields to bring the slain
And lodge them in a tomb: on him alone
And Athens, he this honourable task
Imposes. Hither were the victims borne,
That we a prosperous tillage may obtain,
And for this cause I from my house am come
Into this temple, where the bearded (2) grain
First rising from the fruitful soil appear❜d.
Holding loose sprays of foliage in my hand,
I wait before the unpolluted altars

Of Proserpine and Ceres; for these Mothers
Grown hoar with age and of their children reft,
With pity mov'd, and to the sacred branches
Yielding a due respect. I to the city

Have sent a herald to call Theseus hither,
That from the Theban land he may remove
The causes of their sorrow, or the Gods
Appeasing by some pious rites, release me
From the constraint these suppliant Dames impose.
In all emergencies discretion bids

Our feeble sex to seek man's needful aid..

CHORUS.

An aged woman prostrate at thy knees,
Thee I implore my children to redeem
Who welter on a foreign plain, unnerv'd
By death and to the savage beasts a prey:
Thou see'st the piteous tears which from these eyes
Unbidden start, and torn with desperate hands
My wrinkled flesh. What hope remains for me,
Who neither, at my home, have been allow'd
The corses of my children to stretch forth,
Nor heap'd with earth behold their tombs arise?
Thou, too, illustrious Dame, hast borne a Son

(2) Brodeus has collected testimonies from a Greek glossary `to Homer, Phurnutns, Aristides, and Pausanias, to show that Eleusine was the place where corn first made its appearance: upon which the grateful inhabitants erected the famous temple of Ceres on the spot whence they first reaped her bounties.

Crowning the utmost wishes of thy Lord,
Speak therefore what thou think'st of our distress
In language suited to the griefs I feel

For the deceas'd whom I brought forth; persuade
Thy Son, whose succour we implore, to march
Across Ismenos' channel, and consign
To me the bodies of the slaughter'd youths,
That I beneath the monumental stone
May bury them with every sacred rite.
Though not by mere necessity constrain'd,
We at thy knees fall down and urge our suit
Before these altars of the Gods, where smokes
The frequent incense for our cause is just:
And through the prosperous fortunes of thy Son
With power sufficient to remove our woes
Art thou endued: but since the ills I suffer
Thy pity claim, a miserable suppliant,

I crave that to these arms thou would'st restore
My Son, and grant me to embrace his corse.

ÆETHRA.

O D E.
I.

Here a fresh groupe of mourners stands, Your followers in succession wring their hands.

CHORUS.

Attune expressive notes of anguish,

O ye sympathetic choir,

And in harmonious accents languish,

Such as Pluto loves t' inspire.
Tear those cheeks of pallid hue,

And let gore your bosoms stain,

For from the living is such honour due
To the shades of heroes slain,

Whose corses welter on th' embattled plain.
II.

I feel a pleasing sad relief,

Unsated as I brood o'er scenes of grief;

My lamentations never ending,

Are like the moisture of the sea

In drops from some high rock descending,
Which flows to all eternity.

For those youths who breathe no more
Nature bids the Mother weep

And with incessant tears their loss deplore:
In oblivion would I steep

My woes, and welcome death's perpetual sleep.

THESEUS, ÆETHRA, ADRASTUS, CHORUS.

THESEUS.

What plaints are these I hear? who strike their breasts, Attuning lamentations for the dead

In such loud notes as issue from the fane?
Borne hither by my fears with winged speed,
I come to see if any recent ill

May have befallen my Mother; she from home
Hath long been absent.-Ha! what objects new
And strange are these which now mine eyes behold?
Fresh questions hence arise: my aged Mother
Close to the altar seated with a band

Of foreign matrons, who their woes express
In various warbled notes, and on the ground
Shed from their venerable eyes a stream

Of tears their heads are shorn, nor is their garb
Suited to those who tend the sacred rites?

What means all this? My Mother, say; from you
I wait for information, and expect

Some tidings of importance.

ÆETHRA.

O my Son

These are the Mothers of those seven fam'd chiefs
Who perish'd at the gates of Thebes; you see
How they with suppliant branches on all sides

Encompass me.

THESEUS.

But who is he who groans

L