ATHENA:
Let me persuade you. The lethal spell of your voice, never cast it
down on the land and blight its harvest home. Lull asleep that salt black wave of anger -
awesome, proud with reverence, live with me. The land is rich, and more, when its first fruits,
offered for heirs and the marriage rites, are yours
to hold forever, you will praise my words.
FURIES:
But for me to suffer such disgrace... I, the proud heart of the past, driven under the earth,
condemned, like so much filth,
and the fury in me breathing hatred -
O good Earth,
what is this stealing under the breast, what agony racks the spirit?...
Night, dear Mother Night!
All's lost, our ancient powers torn away by their cunning, ruthless hands, the gods so hard to wrestle down
obliterate us all.
ATHENA:
I will bear with your anger. You are older.
The years have taught you more, much more than I can know.
But Zeus, I think, gave me some insight, too, that has its merits. If you leave for an alien land and alien people,
you will come to love this land, I promise you. As time flows on, the honours flow through all my citizens, and you, throned in honour before the house of Erechtheus, will harvest more from men and women moving in solemn file
than you can win throughout the mortal world.
Here in our homeland never cast the stones
that whet our bloodlust. Never waste our youth,
inflaming them with the burning wine of strife.
Never pluck the heart of the battle co*k
and plant it in our people - intestine war
seething against themselves. Let our wars
rage on abroad, with all their force, to satisfy
our powerful lust for fame. But as for the bird
that fights at home - my curse on civil war.
This is the life I offer, it is yours to take.
Do great things, feel greatness, greatly honoured.
Share this country cherished by the gods.