Macaria Sirs, impute not boldness to me, because I venture forth; this shall be my first request, for a woman’s fairest crown is this, to practise silence and discretion, and abide at home in peace. But when I heard thy lamentations, Iolaus, I came forth, albeit I was not appointed to take the lead in my family. Still in some sense am I fit to do so, for these my brothers are my chiefest care, and I fain would ask, as touching myself, whether some new trouble, added to the former woes, is gnawing at thy heart.
Iolaus My daughter, ’tis nothing new that I should praise thee, as I justly may, above all the children of Heracles. Our house seemed to be prospering, when back it fell again into a hopeless state; for the king declares the prophets signify that he must order the sacrifice, not of bull or heifer, but of some tender maid of noble lineage, if we and this city are to exist. Herein is our perplexity; the king refuses either to sacrifice his own or any other’s child. Wherefore, though he use not terms express, yet doth he hint, that, unless we find some way out of this perplexity, we must seek some other land, for he this country fain would save.
Macaria Are these indeed the terms on which our safety depends?
Iolaus Yea, on these; if, that is, we are successful otherwise.
Macaria No longer then cower before the hated Argive spear; for I, of my own free will, or ever they bid me, am ready to die and offer myself as a victim. For what excuse have we, if, while this city deems it right to incur a great danger on our behalf, we, though we might save ourselves, fly from death, by foisting our trouble on others? No! indeed, ’twere surely most ridiculous to sit and mourn as suppliants of the gods, and show ourselves but cowards, children as we are of that illustrious sire. Where among the brave is such conduct seen? Better, I suppose, this city should be taken and I (which Heaven forefend!) fall into the hands of the enemy, and then, for all I am my noble father’s child, meet an awful doom, and face the Death-god none the less. Shall I wander as an exile from this land? Shall I not feel shame then, when someone says, as say they will, Why are ye come hither with suppliant boughs, loving your lives too well? Begone from our land! for we will not succour cowards.
Macaria Nay, if these be slain and I alone be saved, I have no hope in any wise of being happy, though many ere now have in this hope betrayed their friends. For who will care to wed a lonely maid or make me mother of his children? ’Tis better I should die than meet such treatment, Conduct me to the scene of death, then be victorious o’er the foe, for here I offer my life freely and without constraint, and for my brothers and myself I undertake to die.
Chorus Ah, what shall I say on hearing the maid’s brave words, she that is ready to die for her brothers? Who can speak more noble words or do more noble deeds henceforth for ever?
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