Health to my son!This first address is proper.
ION
I have my health:be in thy senses thou,And both are well.
XUTHUS
O let me kiss thy hand,And throw mine arms around thee.
ION
Art thou,stranger,Well in thy wits?or hath the god's displeasure Bereft thee of thy reason?
XUTHUS
Reason bids,That which is dearest being found,to wish A fond embrace.
ION
Off,touch me not;thy hands Will mar the garlands of the god.
XUTHUS
My touch Asserts no pledge:my own,and that most dear,I find.
ION
Wilt thou not keep thee distant,ere Thou hast my arrow in thy heart?
XUTHUS
Why fly me,When thou shouldst own what is most fond of thee?
ION
I am not fond of curing wayward strangers,And madmen.
XUTHUS
Kill me,raise my funeral pyre;
But,if thou kill me,thou wilt kill thy father.
ION
My father thou!how so?it makes me laugh To hear thee.
XUTHUS
This my words may soon explain.
ION
What wilt thou say to me?
XUTHUS
I am thy father,And thou my son.
ION
Who declares this?
XUTHUS
The god,That nurtured thee,though mine.
ION
Thou to thyself Art witness.
XUTHUS
By the oracle inform'd.
ION
Misled by some dark answer.
XUTHUS
Well I heard it.
ION
What were the words of Phoebus?
XUTHUS
That who first Should meet me-
ION
How?-what meeting?
XUTHUS
As I pass'd.
Forth from the temple.
ION
What the event to him?
XUTHUS
He is my son.
ION
Born so,or by some other Presented?
XUTHUS
Though a present,born my son.
ION
And didst thou first meet me?
XUTHUS
None else,my son.
ION
This fortune whence?
XUTHUS
At that we marvel both.
ION
Who is my mother?
XUTHUS
That I cannot say.
ION
Did not the god inform thee?
XUTHUS
Through my joy,For this I ask'd not.
ION
Haply from the earth I sprung,my mother.
XUTHUS
No,the earth no sons Produces.
ION
How then am I thine?
XUTHUS
I know not.
To Phoebus I appeal.
ION