| Chorus | O suitably-attired-in-leather-boots
Head of a traveller, wherefore seeking whom Whence by what way how purposed art thou come To this well-nightingaled vicinity? My object in enquiring is to know, But if you happen to be deaf and dumb And do not understand a word I say, Then wave your hand to signify as much. | |
| Alcmaeon | I journeyed hither a Boeotian road. | |
| Chorus | Sailing on horseback, or with feet for oars? | |
| Alcmaeon | Plying with speed my partnership of legs. | |
| Chorus | Beneath a shining or a rainy Zeus? | |
| Alcmaeon | Mud's sister, not himself, adorns my shoes. | |
| Chorus | To learn your name would not displease me much. | |
| Alcmaeon | Not all that men desire do they obtain. | |
| Chorus | Might I then hear at what your presence shoots? | |
| Alcmaeon | A shepherd's questioned mouth informed me that - | |
| Chorus | What? for I know not yet what you will say - | |
| Alcmaeon | Nor will you ever, if you interrupt. | |
| Chorus | Proceed, and I will hold my speechless tongue. | |
| Alcmaeon | - This house was Eriphyle's, no one else's. | |
| Chorus | Nor did he shame his throat with shameful lies. | |
| Alcmaeon | May I then enter, passing through the door? | |
| Chorus | Go chase into the house a lucky foot,
And, O my son, be, on the one hand good, And do not, on the other hand, be bad; For that is very much the safest plan. | |
| Alcmaeon | I go into the house with heels and speed. | |
| Chorus | I would not willingly acquire a name To this conclusion I at last have come: Nor with a pen did I inscribe it there, For many reasons: Life, I say, is not Not from the flight of omen-yelling fowls Nor did the Delphine tripod bark it out, Its native ingenuity sufficed | Strophe |
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The Inachean daughter, loved of Zeus? Provided with four hoofs, two horns, one tail, She therefore, all about the Argive fields, Went cropping pale green grass and nettle-tops, But yet, howe'er nutritious, such repasts Never may Cypris for her seat select Why should I mention Io? Why indeed? | Antistrophe | |
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I therefore in a Cissian strain lament; The battering of my unlucky head. | Epode | |
| Eriphyle (within) | O, I am smitten with a hatchet's jaw;
And that in deed and not in word alone. | |
| Chorus | I thought I heard a sound within the house
Unlike the voice of one that jumps for joy. | |
| Eriphyle | He splits my skull, not in a friendly way,
One more: he purposes to kill me dead. | |
| Chorus | I would not be reputed rash, but yet
I doubt if all be gay within the house. | |
| Eriphyle | O! O! another stroke! that makes the third.
He stabs me to the heart against my wish. | |
| Chorus | If that be so, thy state of health is poor;
But thine arithmetic is quite correct. |