Yet, stay, that song was AEschylus; every one knows it--how about Euripides?
Might you know any of his verses ?" For nothing helped the poor Athenians so much if any of them had his mouth stored with Old glory, great plays that had long ago Made themselves wings to fly about the world,-- But most of all those were cherished who could recite Euripides to Syracuse, so mighty was poetry in the ancient days to make enemies into friends, to build, beyond the wars and jealousies of the world, a land where all nations are one.
At this the captain cried: "Praise the God, we have here the very girl who will fill you with Euripides," and the passage brings Balaustion into full light.
Therefore, at mention of Euripides, The Captain crowed out, "Euoi, praise the God! Ooep, boys, bring our owl-shield to the fore! Out with our Sacred Anchor! Here she stands, Balaustion! Strangers, greet the lyric girl! Euripides?
Babai! what a word there 'scaped Your teeth's enclosure, quoth my grandsire's song Why, fast as snow in Thrace, the voyage through, Has she been falling thick in flakes of him! Frequent as figs at Kaunos, Kaunians said.
Balaustion, stand forth and confirm my speech! Now it was some whole passion of a play; Now, peradventure, but a honey-drop That slipt its comb i' the chorus.

If there rose A star, before I could determine steer Southward or northward--if a cloud surprised Heaven, ere I fairly hollaed 'Furl the sail!'-- She had at fingers' end both cloud and star Some thought that perched there, tame and tuneable, Fitted with wings, and still, as off it flew, 'So sang Euripides,' she said, 'so sang The meteoric poet of air and sea, Planets and the pale populace of heaven, The mind of man, and all that's made to soar!' And so, although she has some other name, We only call her Wild-pomegranate-flower, Balaustion; since, where'er the red bloom burns I' the dull dark verdure of the bounteous tree, Dethroning, in the Rosy Isle, the rose, You shall find food, drink, odour, all at once; Cool leaves to bind about an aching brow.
And, never much away, the nightingale.
Sing them a strophe, with the turn-again, Down to the verse that ends all, proverb like.
And save us, thou Balaustion, bless the name" And she answered: "I will recite the last play he wrote from first to last--_Alkestis_--his strangest, saddest, sweetest song." Then because Greeks are Greeks, and hearts are hearts.
And poetry is power,--they all outbroke In a great joyous laughter with much love: "Thank Herakles for the good holiday! Make for the harbour! Row, and let voice ring, 'In we row, bringing more Euripides!'" All the crowd, as they lined the harbour now, "More of Euripides!"-- took up the cry.
We landed; the whole city, soon astir, Came rushing out of gates in common joy To the suburb temple; there they stationed me O' the topmost step; and plain I told the play, Just as I saw it; what the actors said, And what I saw, or thought I saw the while, At our Kameiros theatre, clean scooped Out of a hill side, with the sky above And sea before our seats in marble row: Told it, and, two days more, repeated it Until they sent us on our way again With good words and great wishes.
So, we see Balaustion's slight figure under the blue sky, and the white temple of Herakles from the steps of which she spoke; and among the crowd, looking up to her with rapture, the wise and young Sicilian who took ship with her when she was sent back to Athens, wooed her, and found answer before they reached Piraeus.

And there in Athens she and her lover saw Euripides, and told the Master how his play had redeemed her from captivity.

Then they were married; and one day, with four of her girl friends, under the grape-vines by the streamlet side, close to the temple, Baccheion, in the cool afternoon, she tells the tale; interweaving with the play (herself another chorus) what she thinks, how she feels concerning its personages and their doings, and in the comment discloses her character.

The woman is built up in this way for us.