Euripides, Ion 429–508: Ion rebukes Apollo; first choral song on children

Why doth this stranger lady hint dark reproaches against the god unceasingly, either out of affection for her on whose behalf she seeks the oracle, or maybe because she is hiding something needing secrecy? Yet what have I to do with the daughter of Erectheus? She is naught to me. No, I will go to the laver, and from golden ewers sprinkle the holy water. Yet must I warn Phoebus of what is happening to him; he ravishes a maid and proves unfaithful to her, and after secretly begetting a son leaves him to die. O! Phoebus, do not so, but as thou art supreme, follow in virtue’s track; for whosoever of mortal men transgresses, him the gods punish. How, then, can it be just that you should enact your laws for men, and yourselves incur the charge of breaking them? Now I will put this case, though it will never happen. Wert thou, wert Poseidon, and Zeus, the lord of heaven, to make atonement to mankind for every act of lawless love, ye would empty your temples in paying the fines for your misdeeds. For when ye pursue pleasure in preference to the claims of prudence, ye act unjustly; no longer is it fair to call men wicked, if we are imitating the evil deeds of gods, but rather those who give us such examples.

On thee I call, Athena mine, at whose birth-throes no kindly goddess lent her aid, delivered as thou wert by Titan Prometheus from the forehead of Zeus. Come, O lady Victory, come to the Pythian shrine, winging thy way from the gilded chambers of Olympus to the city’s streets, where Phoebus at his altar on the centre of the world brings his oracles to pass beside the dance-encircled tripod; come, too, thou daughter of Latona, together come, ye virgin goddesses, fair sisters of Phoebus! And be this your prayer, fair maidens, that the ancient house of Erechtheus may obtain by clear oracles the blessing of children, though late it come.

For this brings to man a settled source of all-surpassing bliss, even to such as see in their ancestral halls a splendid race of strong young parents blest with offspring, to inherit from their sires their wealth in due succession after other children; yea, for they are a defence in time of trouble, and add a charm to weal, affording to their fatherland a saving help in battle. Give me before the pomp of wealth or royal marriages the careful nurture of noble children. The childless life I do abhor, and him who thinks it good I blame; to a happy life amongst my children, blest with moderate wealth, may I hold fast.

Ye haunts of Pan, and rocks hard by the grots of Macrae, where Agraulos’ daughters three trip it lightly o’er the green grass-lawns before the shrine of Pallas, to the music of the piper’s varied note, what time thou, Pan, art piping in those caves of thine, where a maiden once that had a child by Phoebus, unhappy mother! exposed her babe, forced issue of her woful wooing, for birds to tear and beasts to rend, a bloody banquet! Never have I seen it told in woven tale or legend that children born to gods by daughters of earth have any share in bliss.