Chorus
O to be nestling ’neath some pathless cavern, there by god’s creating hand to grow into a bird amid the winged tribes! Away would I soar to Adrians wave-beat shore and to the waters of Eridanus; where a father’s hapless daughters in their grief for Phaethon distil into the glooming flood the amber brilliance of their tears.
Chorus
And to the apple-bearing strand of those minstrels in the west I then would come, where ocean’s lord no more to sailors grants a passage o’er the deep dark main, finding there the heaven’s holy bound, upheld by Atlas, where water from ambrosial founts wells up beside the couch of Zeus inside his halls, and holy earth, the bounteous mother, causes joy to spring in heavenly breasts.
Chorus
O white-winged bark, that o’er the booming ocean-wave didst bring my royal mistress from her happy home, to crown her queen ’mongst sorrow’s brides! Surely evil omens from either port, at least from Crete, were with that ship, what time to glorious Athens it sped its way, and the crew made fast its twisted cable-ends upon the beach of Munychus, and on the land stept out.
Chorus
Whence comes it that her heart is crushed, cruelly afflicted by Aphrodite with unholy love; so she by bitter grief o’erwhelmed will tie a noose within her bridal bower to fit it to her fair white neck, too modest for this hateful lot in life, prizing o’er all her name and fame, and striving thus to rid her soul of passion’s sting.
Messenger Help! ho! To the rescue all who near the palace stand! She hath hung herself, our queen, the wife of Theseus.
Chorus Woe worth the day! the deed is done; our royal mistress is no more, dead she hangs in the dangling noose.
Messenger Haste! some one bring a two-edged knife wherewith to cut the knot about her neck!
1st Half Chorus Friends, what shall we do? think you we should enter the house, and loose the queen from the tight-drawn noose?
2nd Half Chorus Why should we? Are there not young servants here? To do too much is not a safe course in life.
Messenger Lay out the hapless corpse, straighten the limbs. This was a bitter way to sit at home and keep my master’s house!
Chorus She is dead, poor lady, so I hear. Already are they laying out the corpse.