CREUSA
Might I but to come to what I wish,my son!
ION
Is this vase empty,or contains it aught?
CREUSA
Thy infant vests,in which I once exposed thee.
ION
And wilt thou name them to me,ere thou see them?
CREUSA
If I recount them not,be death my meed.
ION
Speak then:thy confidence hath something strange.
CREUSA
A tissue,look,which when a child I wrought.
ION
What is it?Various are the works of virgins.
CREUSA
A slight,unfinish'd essay of the loom.
ION
What figure wrought?Thou shalt not take me thus.
CREUSA
A Gorgon central in the warp enwoven-
ION
What fortune haunts me,O supreme of gods!
CREUSA
And like an aegis edged with serpents round.
ION
Such is the woof,and such the vest I find.
CREUSA
Thou old embroidery of my virgin bands!
ION
Is there aught else besides this happy proof?
CREUSA
Two dragons,an old work,their jaws of gold.
ION
The gift of Pallas,who thus nurtures children?
CREUSA
Emblems of Erichthonius of old times.
ION
Why?for what use?Explain these works of gold.
CREUSA
For ornaments to grace the infant's neck.
ION
See,here they are;the third I wish to know.
CREUSA
A branch of olive then I wreathed around thee,Pluck'd from that tree which from Minerva's rock First sprung;if it be there,it still retains Its verdure:for the foliage of that olive,Fresh in immortal beauty,never fades.
ION
O my dear mother!I with joy behold thee.
With transport 'gainst thy cheek my cheek recline.
(They embrace.)
CREUSA
My son,my son,far dearer to thy mother Than yon bright orb (the god will pardon me),Do I then hold thee in my arms,thus found Beyond my hopes,when in the realms below,I thought thy habitation 'mong the dead?
ION
O my dear mother,in thy arms I seem As one that had been dead to life return'd.
CREUSA
Ye wide-expanded rays of heavenly light,What notes,what high-raised strains shall tell my joy?