ION
A monologue from the
play by Euripides
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NOTE: This monologue is reprinted
from The Plays of Euripides in English, vol. ii. Trans.
Shelley Dean Milman. London: J.M. Dent & Sons, 1922. |
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- ION: Things at a distance wear not the same semblance
- As when on them we fix a closer view.
- I certainly with gratitude embrace
- My better fortunes, having found in you
- A father. But whence rose my anxious thoughts
- Now hear: in Athens, I am told, a native
- Is deemed a glorious name, not so the race
- Of aliens. I its gates shall enter laden
- With these two evils; from a foreign sire
- Descended, and myself a spurious child.
- Branded with this reproach, doomed to continue
- In base obscurity, I shall be called
- A man of no account: but if intruding
- Into the highest stations in the city,
- I aim at being great, I shall incur
- Hate from the vulgar, for superior power
- Is to the people odious; but the friends
- Of virtue, they whose elevated souls
- With real wisdom are endued, observe
- A modest silence, nor with eager haste
- Rush into public business; such as these
- Will laugh and brand me with an idiot's name,
- For not remaining quiet in a land
- Which with tumultuous outrages abounds.
- Again, will those of a distinguished rank
- Who at the helm preside, when I attempt
- To raise myself to honour, be most wary
- How on an alien they their votes confer,
- For thus, my sire, 'tis ever wont to be;
- They who possess authority and rank
- Loathe their competitors. But when I come,
- Unwelcome stranger, to a foreign house
- And to the childless matron--partner once
- In your calamity, of all her hopes
- Now reft--with bitter anguish will she feel
- In private this misfortune: by what means
- Can I escape her hatred, at your footstool
- When I am seated, but she, still remaining
- A childless consort, with malignant eyes
- The object of your tenderness beholds?
- Then or, betraying me, will you regard
- Your wife: or by th' esteem for me exprest,
- A dire confusion in your palace cause.
- For men, by female subtlety, how oft
- Have poisons been invented to destroy;
- Yet is my pity to your consort due,
- Childless and hastening to the vale of years;
- Sprung from heroic sires she ill deserves
- To pine through want of issue. But the face
- Of empire whom we foolishly commend
- Is fair indeed, though in her mansions Grief
- Hath fixed her loathed abode. For who is happy,
- Who fortunate, when his whole life is spent
- In circumspection and in anxious fears?
- Rather would I in an ignoble state
- Live blest, than be a monarch who delights
- In evil friends, and hates the good, still fearing
- The stroke of death. Perhaps you will reply
- That gold can all these obstacles surmount,
- And to grow rich is sweet. I would not hear
- Tumultuous sounds, or grievous toils endure,
- Because these hands my treasures still retain.
- May I possess an humbler rank exempt
- From sorrow! O my sire, let me describe
- The blessings I have here enjoyed; first ease,
- To man most grateful; by the busy crowd
- I seldom was molested, from my path
- No villain drove me: not to be endured
- Is this, when we to base competitors
- Are forced to yield pre-eminence. I prayed
- Fervently to the gods, or ministered
- To mortals, and with those who did rejoice
- I never grieved. Some strangers I dismissed,
- But others came. Hence a new object still
- Did I remain, and each new votary please.
- What men are bound to wish for, even they
- Who with reluctance practise what they ought,
- The laws conspired to aid my natural bent,
- And in the sight of Phoebus made me just.
- These things maturely weighing in my breast,
- I deem my situation here exceeds
- What Athens can bestow. Allow me then
- The privilege of living to myself:
- For 'tis an equal blessing, or to taste
- The splendid gifts of fortune with delight,
- Or in an humbler station rest content.
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MONOLOGUES BY EURIPIDES |
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