Tuesday, May 5, 2020

ION Analysis Essay Example For Students

ION Analysis Essay A monologue from the play by Euripides NOTE: This monologue is reprinted from The Plays of Euripides in English, vol. ii. Trans. Shelley Dean Milman. London: J.M. Dent Sons, 1922. ION: Things at a distance wear not the same semblanceAs when on them we fix a closer view.I certainly with gratitude embraceMy better fortunes, having found in youA father. But whence rose my anxious thoughtsNow hear: in Athens, I am told, a nativeIs deemed a glorious name, not so the raceOf aliens. I its gates shall enter ladenWith these two evils; from a foreign sireDescended, and myself a spurious child.Branded with this reproach, doomed to continueIn base obscurity, I shall be calledA man of no account: but if intrudingInto the highest stations in the city,I aim at being great, I shall incurHate from the vulgar, for superior powerIs to the people odious; but the friendsOf virtue, they whose elevated soulsWith real wisdom are endued, observeA modest silence, nor with eager hasteRush into public business; such as theseWill laugh and brand me with an idiots name,For not remaining quiet in a landWhich with tumultuous outrages abounds.Again, will those of a distinguished rankWho at th e helm preside, when I attemptTo raise myself to honour, be most waryHow on an alien they their votes confer,For thus, my sire, tis ever wont to be;They who possess authority and rankLoathe their competitors. But when I come,Unwelcome stranger, to a foreign houseAnd to the childless matronpartner onceIn your calamity, of all her hopesNow reftwith bitter anguish will she feelIn private this misfortune: by what meansCan I escape her hatred, at your footstoolWhen I am seated, but she, still remainingA childless consort, with malignant eyesThe object of your tenderness beholds?Then or, betraying me, will you regardYour wife: or by th esteem for me exprest,A dire confusion in your palace cause.For men, by female subtlety, how oftHave poisons been invented to destroy;Yet is my pity to your consort due,Childless and hastening to the vale of years;Sprung from heroic sires she ill deservesTo pine through want of issue. But the faceOf empire whom we foolishly commendIs fair indeed, though in her mansions GriefHath fixed her loathed abode. For who is happy,Who fortunate, when his whole life is spentIn circumspection and in anxious fears?Rather would I in an ignoble stateLive blest, than be a monarch who delightsIn evil friends, and hates the good, still fearingThe stroke of death. Perhaps you will replyThat gold can all these obstacles surmount,And to grow rich is sweet. I would not hearTumultuous sounds, or grievous toils endure,Because these hands my treasures still retain.May I possess an humbler rank exemptFrom sorrow! O my sire, let me describeThe blessings I have here enjoyed; first ease,To man most grateful; by the busy crowdI seldom was molested, from my pathNo villain drove me: not to be enduredIs this, when we to base competitorsAre forced to yield pre-eminence. I prayedFervently to the gods, or ministeredTo mortals, and with those who did rejoiceI never grieved. Some strangers I dismissed,But others came. Hence a new object stillDid I remain, and each new vota ry please.What men are bound to wish for, even theyWho with reluctance practise what they ought,The laws conspired to aid my natural bent,And in the sight of Phoebus made me just.These things maturely weighing in my breast,I deem my situation here exceedsWhat Athens can bestow. Allow me thenThe privilege of living to myself:For tis an equal blessing, or to tasteThe splendid gifts of fortune with delight,Or in an humbler station rest content. .uf320f546f84fd63c464a7b39f7bbf201 , .uf320f546f84fd63c464a7b39f7bbf201 .postImageUrl , .uf320f546f84fd63c464a7b39f7bbf201 .centered-text-area { min-height: 80px; position: relative; } .uf320f546f84fd63c464a7b39f7bbf201 , .uf320f546f84fd63c464a7b39f7bbf201:hover , .uf320f546f84fd63c464a7b39f7bbf201:visited , .uf320f546f84fd63c464a7b39f7bbf201:active { border:0!important; } .uf320f546f84fd63c464a7b39f7bbf201 .clearfix:after { content: ""; display: table; clear: both; } .uf320f546f84fd63c464a7b39f7bbf201 { display: block; transition: background-color 250ms; webkit-transition: background-color 250ms; width: 100%; opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #95A5A6; } .uf320f546f84fd63c464a7b39f7bbf201:active , .uf320f546f84fd63c464a7b39f7bbf201:hover { opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #2C3E50; } .uf320f546f84fd63c464a7b39f7bbf201 .centered-text-area { width: 100%; position: relative ; } .uf320f546f84fd63c464a7b39f7bbf201 .ctaText { border-bottom: 0 solid #fff; color: #2980B9; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; margin: 0; padding: 0; text-decoration: underline; } .uf320f546f84fd63c464a7b39f7bbf201 .postTitle { color: #FFFFFF; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 600; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 100%; } .uf320f546f84fd63c464a7b39f7bbf201 .ctaButton { background-color: #7F8C8D!important; color: #2980B9; border: none; border-radius: 3px; box-shadow: none; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 26px; moz-border-radius: 3px; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-shadow: none; width: 80px; min-height: 80px; background: url(https://artscolumbia.org/wp-content/plugins/intelly-related-posts/assets/images/simple-arrow.png)no-repeat; position: absolute; right: 0; top: 0; } .uf320f546f84fd63c464a7b39f7bbf201:hover .ctaButton { background-color: #34495E!important; } .uf320f546f84fd63c464a7b39f7bbf201 .centered-text { display: table; height: 80px; padding-left : 18px; top: 0; } .uf320f546f84fd63c464a7b39f7bbf201 .uf320f546f84fd63c464a7b39f7bbf201-content { display: table-cell; margin: 0; padding: 0; padding-right: 108px; position: relative; vertical-align: middle; width: 100%; } .uf320f546f84fd63c464a7b39f7bbf201:after { content: ""; display: block; clear: both; } READ: THE FORC'D MARRIAGE Essay

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