Hermes:

It is here that I come into the story…
The chaste Pure-Light, Phoebus
– you know him as my brother Apollo, by the way –
turns and asks this “favor” of me. He says:

“My baby brother, my blood,
would you be so kind as to make a trip down to that famous city
–you know, Athens–? (30)
Fly straight down, near to where the city’s earth-born lords reside:
(airily) the Areopagus, the palace hill.

[I would go myself, you know,
[but it is important that this be done unnoticed.]
You are already a very familiar sight within the goddess’ city:
–after all, your statue guards every doorstep–
so you will not attract undue attention.

There is a baby there: you will find him exposed in a rocky cave.
If you would, bring him back to my oracular seat at Delphi.
But this is important: don’t forget the swaddle or the casket… cradle.
You can just drop the whole bundle within the sacred borders —
right on the steps of my holy-of-holies, and that will be that.

And before you think to pester me with any follow-up questions – I warn you:
Keep silent. I will take care of the rest.
This whole business, like this child, is mine and mine alone.”

Though he phrased this as a ‘favor’, his tone made it clear:
his wish is my command.
So, as always, I followed the order of my brother Apollo Loxias,
in service to his crooked, twisting futures.
For once, I did it just as requested too, with minimal mischief.

I fetched the hollow, woven, would-be sarcophagus
— child hidden within –
And placed it in front of Apollo’s temple door.
Just left it right there on the steps behind us.
Before going though, I couldn’t resist one bit of playfulness:
I followed the fatal example of Aglauros and I opened the
twisting, snaky reeds of the cradle lid, revealing the secret baby inside.

It was early the next day– the sun’s chariot had just started its course –
When Apollo’s prophetess, the Pythia, headed into the oracular shrine.
[You should have seen her –] she nearly tripped over the open basket.
Her eyes fell upon the newborn, horrified.
She must have been imagining the typical scenario:
some poor unmarried girl from the Delphi region
desperate enough to abandon this
–the product of a long agonizing labor in secret —
in a place which should not be defiled by human things: birth or death
leaving a baby to the scant mercy of the Pure god].

As priestess, her first duty was to protect the purity of the altar,
[and to dispose of the child before it polluted the sanctuary.]
But, as she looked upon the pure light of his innocence,
Pity warmed her soul, melting icy cruelty.
The Pythia herself decided then and there to raise the child.

Maybe the god played a role too in her act of mercy,
Manipulating things behind the scenes so that
his child wouldn’t be evicted from his rightful house.

Concerning the baby:
Remember that no one knew whose seed had conceived him
or what his status was…
The Pythia certainly didn’t suspect that
the father was Phoebus himself or that
the mother who bore him was of noble blood.

So, the child was brought up as a nameless slave,
property of the temple and Apollo,
with no knowledge of his true parents or of his lineage.

But he had a great life, such as it was:

His childhood was spent playing around the holy altars;
–not a care in the world–
He ate whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted
from what was left of the constant sacrifices:
So, his early days were full of almost godlike leisure.

And when he began to show signs of a beard
The Delphians elected to honor him:
making him warden of the god and guardian of the sanctuary gifts.
They entrusted him, a slave, with management
of all the precious treasures devoted in the temple.

As a slave in the halls of the god, he grew into manhood. His life was bound to service.
And he has been known, for all the time up to now,
as solemn, properly reverent towards the gods
– if perhaps a bit too zealous— and free from human bothers.

And Kreousa? Well, the chains of her service continued to pull.

After the secret birth,
She was married off in payment to Xuthus –
foremost hero of the Hellenes.

Here is their story – don’t worry, it is brief:

Athens was drowning in the tides of war and all seemed lost.
The enemy: the Chalcidians from Euboea.
[Out of nowhere, Xuthus appeared
– a wandering hero looking to make his name–]
He sweat and bled in battle alongside the Athenians
And with his mighty spear, he drove the enemy back. For his service
he was rewarded with a most worthy prize:
marriage to a princess –Kreousa– and adoption
into the Athenian royal line, though he was not even a native much less a citizen.
He was suitably noble at least: his birth from Aeolos,
made him a grandchild of Zeus. He was an Achaean too,
so at least he wasn’t a total foreigner.

Here is the problem now though:
their royal marriage is still barren – no heirs in sight —
though Xuthus sows her field frequently, if you’ll pardon the expression.
That is why they are traveling here, to the oracle of Apollo:
So Xouthos can pray, and I quote “that a child be given to him.”

But you should already see that [all of these disconnected myths] and
what appears to be just the misfortunes of unfortunate Luck —
well, from the start, it has all been the twisted plan
of my twisty brother Loxias
He has been driving events behind the scenes, thinking that no one has noticed.
But he can’t outfox me, as should now be clear.

I’ll also share some insight into the future too.
— what his plan is, at least:]

Once Xuthus enters the oracular shrine of Apollo right behind me,
he will be given exactly what he asks for:
an oracular proclamation and a child to call his own.

The priestess of Apollo will announce.
“Let it be known that the boy who arrives is his true offspring.”
The ‘his’ will be left ambiguous. Then, our lost child will enter as
the answer to Xuthus’ prayers… if, not exactly in the way he intended.

Anyway, there will be no dramatic reveals:
The king will never learn that the child is not truly his.
Then there is going to be a big setting change – rare in Tragedy–
And they will all return to the palace in Athens.
In the climax, Kreousa is set to recognize that
this was the secret child she abandoned so long ago,
And that he is actually the son of Apollo. Of course,
no real conflict there either —
she will continue to keep Apollo Loxias’ indiscretion quiet
for the sake of the child,
and he will still inherit the throne of Athens from his “father” Xuthus.

The boy will be given the name Ion –
it means ‘arriving’ in a neat little nod to the prophecy
though it can also mean ‘leaving or abandoned’ —

And this name will become famous throughout Greece.
He will found colonies all along the coast of Asia
and will thus be the father of the Ion-ic Greeks (get it?)—
And the region will take his name too and be known as Ion-ia.
[Besides that, he will be a feared warrior,
a mighty hero, noblest of kings
who will smite the foes of Athens without mercy]. The end.

[That is how all this is meant to wrap up, anyway.]
Personally, I can’t stand the suspense, so I’m going to hide over there
in the prophet’s laurel adorned hollow.
I came here to snoop and see how this will actually play out.
I know that you think Fate pushes us all around, but I warn you…
sometimes even oracular gods are surprised by the twisty paths of the future.
[And sometimes the chains of the past are stronger than the pull of Fate]

[In the distance, Ion shouts at the other officials]

Shh. I can hear him –the arriver– arriving now.
It is the very child we’ve been talking about,
the secret son of twisted Loxias.
Even at this early hour he is already hard at work,
making the entryways shine brightly
using twigs of Apollo’s sacred laurel

Forget what I have said of the future though:
as of now, Remember he is not yet Ion, he is a regular slave
just a ‘no-man’, no-name, nobody
–right now, I am the only god to have given him a proper name –
But before I go, I want to wish good luck and say farewell
[to my fellow servant],
May you fare-well, even as you arrive:
Ion. [81]