Denied to other crimes: still must thou fear.
What of that ever-present punishment, The terror of the soul that knows its guilt, Is stained with crime and fearful of itself?
Some women have with safety sinned, but none With peace of soul. Then quench these flames, I pray, 165 Of impious love, and shun this monstrous crime Which no barbaric land has ever done, No Getan wandering on his lonely plains, No savage Taurian, no Scythian.
Expel from thy chaste soul this hideous thing, And, mindful of thy mother's sin, avoid 170 Such monstrous unions. Wouldst in marriage give Thyself to son and father? Wouldst thou take In thine incestuous womb a progeny So basely mixed? Then go the length of sin: O'erthrow all nature with thy shameful fires.
Why should the monsters cease? Why empty stands Thy brother's labyrinth? Shall all the world 175 Be shocked with prodigies, shall nature's laws Be scorned, whene'er a Cretan woman loves?
_Phaedra:_ I know that what thou say'st is true, dear nurse; But raging passion forces me to take The path of sin. Full consciously my soul Goes headlong on its downward way, ofttimes With backward glance, sane counsel seeking still, Without avail. So, when the mariner 180 Would sail his ship against the boisterous waves, His toil is all in vain, and, vanquished quite, The ship drifts onward with the hurrying tide.
For what can reason do when passion rules, When love, almighty, dominates the soul? 185 The wingéd god is lord through all the earth, And with his flames unquenchable the heart Of Jove himself is burned. The god of war Has felt his fire; and Vulcan too, that god Who forges Jove's three-forkéd thunderbolts; Yea, he, who in the hold of Aetna huge 190 Is lord of ever-blazing furnaces, By this small spark is burned. Apollo, too, Who sends his arrows with unerring aim, Was pierced by Cupid's still more certain darts.
For equally in heaven and earth the god Is powerful.
_Nurse:_ The god! 'Tis vicious lust 195 That hath his godhead framed; and, that its ends More fully may be gained, it has assigned To its unbridled love the specious name, Divinity! 'Tis Venus' son, in sooth, Sent wandering through all the earth! He flies Through empty air and in his boyish hands 200 His deadly weapon bears! Though least of gods, He holds the widest sway! Such vain conceits The love-mad soul adopts, love's goddess feigns, And Cupid's bow. Whoe'er too much enjoys The smiles of fortune and in ease is lapped, Is ever seeking unaccustomed joys. 205 Then that dire comrade of a high estate, Inordinate desire, comes in. The feast Of yesterday no longer pleases; now A home of sane and simple living, food[19] Of humble sort, are odious. Oh, why Does this destructive pest so rarely come To lowly homes, but chooses rather homes 210 Of luxury? And why does modest love Beneath the humble roof abide, and bless With wholesome intercourse the common throng?
Why do the poor restrain their appetites, Whereas the rich, on empire propped, desire More than is right. Who wields too much of power 215 Desires to gain what is beyond his power.
What is befitting to thy high estate Thou knowest well. Then fitting reverence show To thy returning husband's sovereignty.
_Phaedra:_ The sovereignty of love is over me, The highest rule of all. My lord's return, I fear it not; for never more has he, Who once within the silent depths of night 220 Has plunged, beheld again the light of day.
_Nurse:_ Trust not the power of Dis; for though his realm He closely bar, and though the Stygian dog Keep watch and ward upon the baleful doors, Theseus can always walk forbidden ways.
_Phaedra:_ Perchance he'll give indulgence to my love. 225 _Nurse:_ But he was harsh e'en to a modest wife; His heavy hand Antiope has known.
But grant that thou canst bend thy angry lord: Canst bend as well the stubborn soul of him, Hippolytus, who hates the very name 230 Of womankind? Inexorable his resolve To spend his life unwedded. He so shuns The sacred rites of marriage, thou wouldst know That he of Amazonian stock was born.
_Phaedra:_ Though on the tops of snowy hills he hide, Or swiftly course along the ragged cliffs, Through forests deep, o'er mountains, 'tis my will 235 To follow him.
_Nurse:_ And will he turn again, And yield himself unto thy sweet caress?
Or will he lay aside his modesty At thy vile love's behest? Will he give o'er His hate of womankind for thee alone, On whose account, perchance, he hates them all?
_Phaedra:_ Can he not be by any prayers o'ercome?
_Phaedra:_ Yes, but the beasts are tamed by love.
_Phaedra:_ Through Ocean's self I'll follow him.
_Nurse:_ Thy sire remember.
_Phaedra:_ And my mother too.
_Nurse:_ Women he hates.
_Phaedra:_ Then I'll no rival fear.
_Nurse:_ Thy husband comes.
_Phaedra:_ With him Pirithoüs!
_Nurse:_ Thy sire! 245 _Phaedra:_ To Ariadne he was kind.
_Nurse:_ O child, by these white locks of age, I pray, This care-filled heart, these breasts that suckled thee, Put off this rage; to thine own rescue come.
The greater part of life is will to live.
_Phaedra:_ Shame has not wholly fled my noble soul. 250 I yield: let love, which will not be controlled, Be conquered. Nor shalt thou, fair fame, be stained.
This way alone is left, sole hope of woe: Theseus I'll follow, and by death shun sin.
_Nurse:_ Oh, check, my child, this wild, impetuous thought; 255 Be calm. For now I think thee worthy life, Because thou hast condemned thyself to death.
_Phaedra:_ I am resolved to die, and only seek The mode of death. Shall I my spirit free By twisted rope, or fall upon the sword, Or shall I leap from yonder citadel? 260 _Nurse:_ Shall my old age permit thee thus to die Self-slain? Thy deadly, raging purpose stay.
No one may easily come back to life.
_Phaedra:_ No argument can stay the will of one 265 Who has resolved to die, and ought to die.
Quick, let me arm myself in honor's cause.
_Nurse:_ Sole comfort of my weary age, my child, If such unruly passion sways thy heart, Away with reputation! 'Tis a thing Which rarely with reality agrees; It smiles upon the ill-deserving man, 270 And from the good withholds his meed of praise.
Let us make trial of that stubborn soul.
Mine be the task to approach the savage youth, And bend his will relentless to our own.
* * * * * _Chorus:_ Thou goddess, child of the foaming sea, Thou mother of love, how fierce are the flames, 275 And how sharp are the darts of thy petulant boy; How deadly of aim his bow.
Deep to the heart the poison sinks When the veins are imbued with his hidden flame; 280 No gaping wound upon the breast Does his arrow leave; but far within It burns with consuming fire.
No peace or rest does he give; world wide Are his flying weapons sown abroad: The shores that see the rising sun, 285 And the land that lies at the goal of the west; The south where raging Cancer glows, And the land of the cold Arcadian Bear With its ever-wandering tribes--all know And have felt the fires of love. 290 The hot blood of youth he rouses to madness, The smouldering embers of age he rekindles, And even the innocent breasts of maids Are stirred by passion unknown.
He bids the immortals desert the skies And dwell on the earth in forms assumed. 295 For love, Apollo kept the herds Of Thessaly's king, and, his lyre unused, He called to his bulls on the gentle pipe.
How oft has Jove himself put on The lower forms of life, who rules The sky and the clouds. Now a bird he seems, 300 With white wings hovering, with voice More sweet than the song of the dying swan; Now with lowering front, as a wanton bull, He offers his back to the sport of maids; And soon through his brother's waves he floats, 305 With his hoofs like sturdy oars, and his breast Stoutly opposing the waves, in fear For the captured maid he bears. For love, The shining goddess of the night Her dim skies left, and her glittering car 310 To her brother allotted to guide. Untrained In managing the dusky steeds, Within a shorter circuit now He learns to direct his course. Meanwhile The nights no more their accustomed space Retained, and the dawn came slowly back, 315 Since 'neath a heavier burden now The axle trembled. Love compelled Alcmena's son to lay aside His quiver and the threat'ning spoil Of that great lion's skin he bore, And have his fingers set with gems, His shaggy locks in order dressed. 320 His limbs were wrapped in cloth of gold, His feet with yellow sandals bound; And with that hand which bore but now The mighty club, he wound the thread Which from his mistress' spindle fell.
The sight all Persia saw, and they 325 Who dwell in Lydia's fertile realm-- The savage lion's skin laid by, And on those shoulders, once the prop For heaven's vast dome, a gauzy cloak Of Tyrian manufacture spread.
Accursed is love, its victims know, 330 And all too strong. In every land, In the all-encircling briny deep, In the airy heavens where the bright stars course, There pitiless love holds sway.
The sea-green band of the Nereids 335 Have felt his darts in their deepest waves, And the waters of ocean cannot quench Their flames. The birds know the passion of love, And mighty bulls, with its fire inflamed, Wage furious battle, while the herd 340 Look on in wonder. Even stags, Though timorous of heart, will fight If for their mates they fear, while loud Resound the snortings of their wrath.
When with love the striped tigers burn, The swarthy Indian cowers in fear. 345 For love the boar whets his deadly tusks And his huge mouth is white with foam.
The African lions toss their manes When love inflames their hearts, and the woods Resound with their savage roars. 350 The monsters of the raging deep, And those great beasts, the elephants, Feel the sway of love; since nature's power Claims everything, and nothing spares.
Hate perishes when love commands, And ancient feuds yield to his touch. 355 Why need I more his sway approve, When even stepdames yield to love?
FOOTNOTES: ACT II _Chorus:_ Speak, nurse, the news thou bring'st. How fares the queen?
Do her fierce fires of love know any end?
_Nurse:_ I have no hope that such a malady 360 Can be relieved; her maddened passion's flames Will endless burn. A hidden, silent fire Consumes her, and her raging love, though shut Within her heart, is by her face betrayed.
Her eyes dart fire; anon, her sunken gaze Avoids the light of day. Her restless soul 365 Can find no pleasure long in anything.
Her aimless love allows her limbs no rest.
Now, as with dying, tottering steps, she goes, And scarce can hold her nodding head erect; And now lies down to sleep. But, sleepless quite, She spends the night in tears. Now does she bid Me lift her up, and straight to lay her down; 370 To loose her locks, and bind them up again.
In restless mood she constantly demands Fresh robes. She has no care for food or health.
With failing strength she walks, with aimless feet. 375 Her old-time strength is gone; no longer shines The ruddy glow of health upon her face.
Care feeds upon her limbs; her trembling steps Betray her weakness, and the tender grace Of her once blooming beauty is no more.
Her eyes, which once with Phoebus' brilliance shone, No longer gleam with their ancestral fires. 380 Her tears flow ever, and her cheeks are wet With constant rain; as when, on Taurus' top, The snows are melted by a warming shower.
But look, the palace doors are opening, And she, reclining on her couch of gold, 385 And sick of soul, refuses one by one The customary garments of her state.
_Phaedra:_ Remove, ye slaves, those bright and gold-wrought robes; Away with Tyrian purple, and the webs Of silk whose threads the far-off eastern tribes From leaves of trees collect. Gird high my robes; 390 I'll wear no necklace, nor shall snowy pearls, The gift of Indian seas, weigh down my ears.
No nard from far Assyria shall scent My locks; thus loosely tossing let them fall Around my neck and shoulders; let them stream Upon the wind, by my swift running stirred. 395 Upon my left I'll wear a quiver girt, And in my right hand will I brandish free A hunting-spear of Thessaly; for thus The mother of Hippolytus was clad.
So did she lead her hosts from the frozen shores Of Pontus, when to Attica she came, 400 From distant Tanaïs or Maeotis' banks, Her comely locks down flowing from a knot, Her side protected by a crescent shield.
Like her would I betake me to the woods.
_Chorus:_ Cease thy laments, for grief will not avail The wretched. Rather seek to appease the will 405 Of that wild virgin goddess of the woods.
_Nurse_ [_to_ Diana]: O queen of forests, thou who dwell'st alone On mountain tops, and thou who only art Within their desert haunts adored, convert, We pray, to better issue these sad fears.
O mighty goddess of the woods and groves, Bright star of heaven, thou glory of the night, 410 Whose torch, alternate with the sun, illumes The sky, thou three-formed Hecate--Oh, smile, We pray, on these our hopes; the unbending soul Of stern Hippolytus subdue for us.
Teach him to love; our passion's mutual flame May he endure. May he give ready ear To our request. His hard and stubborn heart 415 Do thou make soft to us. Enthral his mind.
Though stern of soul, averse to love, and fierce, May he yet yield himself to Venus' laws.
Bend all thy powers to this. So may thy face Be ever clear, and through the rifted clouds Mayst thou sail on with crescent shining bright; So, when thou driv'st thy chariot through the sky, 420 May no Thessalian mummeries prevail To draw thee from thy nightly journey down; And may no shepherd boast himself of thee.
Lo, thou art here in answer to our prayer; [Hippolytus _is seen approaching_.]
I see Hippolytus himself, alone, Approaching to perform the yearly rites To Dian due. 425 [_To herself._] Why dost thou hesitate?
Both time and place are given by fortune's lot.
Use all thy arts. Why do I quake with fear?
It is no easy task to do the deed Enjoined on me. Yet she, who serves a queen, Must banish from her heart all thought of right; For sense of shame ill serves a royal will. 430 [_Enter_ Hippolytus.]
_Hippolytus:_ Why dost thou hither turn thine agéd feet, O faithful nurse? Why is thy face so sad, Thy brow so troubled? Truly is my sire In safety, Phaedra safe, and their two sons.
_Nurse:_ Thou need'st not fear for them; the kingdom stands 435 In prosperous estate, and all thy house Rejoices in the blessings of the gods.
But Oh, do thou with greater kindness look Upon thy fortune. For my heart is vexed And anxious for thy sake; for thou thyself With grievous sufferings dost bruise thy soul.
If fate compels it, one may be forgiven 440 For wretchedness; but if, of his own will, A man prefers to live in misery, Brings tortures on himself, then he deserves To lose those gifts he knows not how to use.
Be mindful of thy youth; relax thy mind.
Lift high the blazing torch on festal nights; Let Bacchus free thee from thy weighty cares; 445 Enjoy this time which speeds so swiftly by.
Now is the time when love comes easily, And smiles on youth. Come, let thy soul rejoice.
Why dost thou lie upon a lonely couch?
Dissolve in pleasures that grim mood of thine, And snatch the passing joys;[20] let loose the reins. 450 Forbid that these, the best days of thy life, Should vanish unenjoyed. Its proper hue Has God allotted to each time of life, And leads from step to step the age of man.
So joy becomes the young, a face severe The agéd. Why dost thou restrain thyself, And strangle at their birth the joys of life?
That crop rewards the farmer's labor most 455 Which in the young and tender sprouting-time Runs riot in the fields. With lofty top That tree will overspread the neighboring grove, Which no begrudging hand cuts back or prunes.
So do our inborn powers a richer fruit Of praise and glory bear, if liberty, Unchecked and boundless, feed the noble soul. 460 Thou, harsh, uncouth, and ignorant of life, Dost spend thy youth to joy and love unknown.
Think'st thou that this is man's allotted task, To suffer hardships, curb the rushing steeds, And fight like savage beasts in bloody war? 465 When he beheld the boundless greed of death, The mighty father of the world ordained A means by which the race might be renewed.
Suppose the power of Venus over men Should cease, who doth supply and still renew 470 The stream of life, then would this lovely world Become a foul, unsightly thing indeed: The sea would bear no fish within its waves, The woods no beasts of prey, the air no birds; But through its empty space the winds alone Would rove. How various the forms of death 475 That seize and feed upon our mortal race: The wrecking sea, the sword, and treachery!
But say that these are lacking: still we fall Of our own gravity to gloomy Styx.
Suppose our youth should choose a mateless life, And live in childless state: then all this world Of teeming life which thou dost see, would live This generation only, and would fall 480 In ruins on itself. Then spend thy life As nature doth direct; frequent the town, And live in friendly union with thy kind.
_Hippolytus:_ There is no life so free, so innocent, Which better cherishes the ancient rites, Than that which spurns the crowded ways of men And seeks the silent places of the woods. 485 His soul no maddening greed of gain inflames Who on the lofty levels of the hills His blameless pleasures finds. No fickle breath Of passing favor frets him here, no sting Of base ingratitude, no poisonous hate.
He fears no kingdom's laws; nor, in the quest 490 Of power, does he pursue the phantom shapes Of fame and wealth. From hope and fear alike Is he removed. No black and biting spite With base, malicious tooth preys on him here.
He never hears of those base, shameful things That spawn amid the city's teeming throngs.
It is not his with guilty heart to quake At every sound; he need not hide his thoughts 495 With guileful words; in pride of sinful wealth He seeks to own no lordly palace propped Upon a thousand pillars, with its beams In flaunting arrogance incased with gold.
No streams of blood his pious altars drench; No hecatombs of snowy bullocks stand 500 Foredoomed to death, their foreheads sprinkled o'er With sacred meal; but in the spacious fields, Beneath the sky, in fearless innocence, He wanders lord of all. His only guile, To set the cunning snare for beasts of pray; And, when o'erspent with labors of the chase, He soothes his body in the shining stream Of cool Ilissus. Now swift Alpheus' banks 505 He skirts, and now the lofty forest's deep, Dense places treads, where Lerna, clear and cool, Pours forth her glimmering streams.
Here twittering birds make all the woods resound, And through the branches of the ancient beech The leaves are all a-flutter in the breeze. 510 How sweet upon some vagrant river's bank, Or on the verdant turf, to lie at length, And quaff one's fill of deep, delicious sleep, Whether in hurrying floods some copious stream Pours down its waves, or through the vernal flowers Some murmuring brook sings sweetly as it flows.
The windfall apples of the wood appease 515 His hunger, while the ripening berries plucked From wayside thickets grant an easy meal.
He gladly shuns the luxuries of kings.
Let mighty lords from anxious cups of gold Their nectar quaff; for him how sweet to catch With naked hand the water of the spring! 520 More certain slumber soothes him, though his couch Be hard, if free from care he lay him down.
With guilty soul he seeks no shameful deeds In nooks remote upon some hidden couch, Nor timorous hides in labyrinthine cell; He courts the open air and light of day, And lives before the conscious eye of heaven. 525 Such was the life, I think, the ancients lived, Those primal men who mingled with the gods.
They were not blinded by the love of gold; No sacred stone divided off the fields And lotted each his own in judgment there.
Nor yet did vessels rashly plow the seas; 530 But each his native waters knew alone.
Then cities were not girt with massive walls, With frequent towers set; no soldier there To savage arms his hands applied, nor burst The close-barred gates with huge and heavy stones From ponderous engines hurled. As yet the earth 535 Endured no master's rule, nor felt the sway Of laboring oxen yoked in common toil; But all the fields, self-fruitful, fed mankind, Who took and asked no more. The woods gave wealth, And shady grottoes natural homes supplied.
Unholy greed first broke these peaceful bonds, 540 And headlong wrath, and lust which sets aflame The hearts of men. Then came the cruel thirst For empire; and the weak became the prey Of strong, and might was counted right. At first Men fought with naked fists, but soon they turned 545 Rough clubs and stones to use of arms. Not yet Were cornel spears with slender points of iron, And long, sharp-pointed swords, and crested helms.
Such weapons wrath invented. Warlike Mars Produced new arts of strife, and forms of death 550 In countless numbers made. Thence streams of gore Stained every land, and reddened every sea.
Then crime, o'erleaping every bound, ran wild; Invaded every home. No hideous deed Was left undone: but brothers by the hand 555 Of brothers fell, parents by children's hands, Husbands by wives', and impious mothers killed Their helpless babes. Stepmothers need no words; The very beasts are kind compared with them.
Of all these evils woman was the cause, The leader she. She with her wicked arts Besets the minds of men; and all for her 560 And her vile, lustful ways, unnumbered towns Lie low in smoking heaps; whole nations rush To arms; and kingdoms, utterly o'erthrown, Drag down their ruined peoples in their fall.
Though I should name no other, Aegeus' wife Would prove all womankind a curséd race.
_Nurse:_ Why blame all women for the crimes of few? 565 _Hippolytus:_ I hate them all. I dread and shun and curse Them all. Whether from reason, instinct, blind And causeless madness, this I know--I hate.
And sooner shall you fire and water wed; Sooner shall dangerous quicksands friendly turn And give safe anchorage; and sooner far 570 Shall Tethys from her utmost western bounds Bring forth the shining day, and savage wolves Smile kindly on the timid does, than I, O'ercome, feel ought but hate to womankind.
_Nurse:_ But oft doth love put reins on stubborn souls, And all their hatred to affection turns. 575 Behold thy mother's realm of warlike dames; Yet even they the sway of passion know.
Of this thy birth itself is proof enough.
_Hippolytus:_ My comfort for my mother's loss is this, That now I'm free to hate all womankind.
_Nurse:_ As some hard crag, on every side unmoved, 580 Resists the waves, and dashes backward far The opposing floods, so he doth spurn my words.
But hither Phaedra comes with hasty step, Impatient of delay. What fate is hers?
Or to what action doth her madness tend?
[Phaedra _enters and falls fainting to the earth_.]
But see, in sudden fainting fit she falls, 585 And deathlike pallor overspreads her face.
[Hippolytus _hastens to raise her up in his arms_.]
Lift up thy face, speak out, my daughter, see, Thine own Hippolytus embraces thee.
_Phaedra_ [_recovering from her faint_]: Who gives me back to griefs, and floods again My soul with heavy care? How well for me Had I sunk down to death! 590 _Hippolytus:_ But why, poor soul, Dost thou lament the gift of life restored?
_Phaedra_ [_aside_]: Come dare, attempt, fulfil thine own command.
Speak out, and fearlessly. Who asks in fear Suggests a prompt refusal. Even now The greater part of my offense is done.
Too late my present modesty. My love, 595 I know, is base; but if I persevere, Perchance the marriage torch will hide my sin.
Success makes certain sins respectable.
Come now, begin.
[_To_ Hippolytus].
Bend lower down thine ear, I pray; if any comrade be at hand, Let him depart, that we may speak alone. 600 _Hippolytus:_ Behold, the place is free from witnesses.
_Phaedra:_ My lips refuse to speak my waiting words; A mighty force compels my utterance, A mightier holds it back. Ye heavenly powers, I call ye all to witness, what I wish-- 605 _Hippolytus:_ Thy heart desires and cannot tell its wish?
_Phaedra:_ Light cares speak out, the weighty have no words.
_Hippolytus:_ Into my ears, my mother, tell thy cares.
_Phaedra:_ The name of mother is too proud and high; My heart dictates some humbler name than that. 610 Pray call me sister--slave, Hippolytus.
Yes, slave I'd be. I'll bear all servitude; And shouldst thou bid me tread the driven snows, To walk along high Pindus' frozen peaks, I'd not refuse; no, not if thou shouldst bid Me go through fire, and serried ranks of foes, 615 I would not hesitate to bare my breast Unto the naked swords. Take thou the power Which was consigned to me. Make me thy slave.
Rule thou the state, and let me subject be.
It is no woman's task to guard this realm Of many towns. Do thou, who in the flower 620 Of youth rejoicest, rule the citizens With strong paternal sway. But me receive Into thy arms, and there protect thy slave And suppliant. My widowhood relieve.
_Hippolytus:_ May God on high this omen dark avert!
My father will in safety soon return.
_Phaedra:_ Not so: the king of that fast-holding realm 625 And silent Styx has never opened back The doors of earth to those who once have left The realms above. Think'st thou that he will loose The ravisher of his couch? Unless, indeed, Grim Pluto has at last grown mild to love.
_Hippolytus:_ The righteous gods of heaven will bring him back.
But while the gods still hold our prayers in doubt, 630 My brothers will I make my pious care, And thee as well. Think not thou art bereft; For I will fill for thee my father's place.
_Phaedra_ [_aside_]: Oh, hope of lovers, easily beguiled!
Deceitful love! Has he[21] not said enough? 635 I'll ply him now with prayers.
[_To_ Hippolytus.]
Oh, pity me.
Hear thou the prayers which I must only think.
I long to utter them, but am ashamed.
_Hippolytus:_ What is thy trouble then?
_Phaedra:_ A trouble mine, Which thou wouldst scarce believe could vex the soul Of any stepdame.
_Hippolytus:_ Speak more openly; In doubtful words thy meaning thou dost wrap.
_Phaedra:_ My maddened heart with burning love is scorched; 640 My inmost marrow is devoured with love; And through my veins and vitals steals the fire, As when the flames through roomy holds of ships Run darting. 645 _Hippolytus:_ Surely with a modest love For Theseus thou dost burn.
_Phaedra:_ Hippolytus, 'Tis thus with me: I love those former looks Of Theseus, which in early manhood once He wore, when first a beard began to show Upon his modest cheeks, what time he saw The Cretan monster's hidden lurking-place, And by a thread his labyrinthine way 650 Retraced. Oh, what a glorious sight he was!
Soft fillets held in check his flowing locks, And modesty upon his tender face Glowed blushing red. His soft-appearing arms But half concealed his muscles' manly strength.
His face was like thy heavenly Phoebe's face, Or my Apollo's, or 'twas like thine own. 655 Like thee, like thee he was when first he pleased His enemy. Just so he proudly held His head erect; still more in thee shines out That beauty unadorned; in thee I find Thy father all. And yet thy mother's stern And lofty beauty has some share in thee; Her Scythian firmness tempers Grecian grace. 660 If with thy father thou hadst sailed to Crete, My sister would have spun the thread for thee And not for him. O sister, wheresoe'er In heaven's starry vault thou shinest, thee, Oh, thee I call to aid my hapless cause, So like thine own. One house has overthrown 665 Two sisters, thee the father, me the son.
[_To_ Hippolytus.]
Behold, as suppliant, fallen to thy knees, A royal princess kneels. Without a spot Of sin, unstained and innocent, was I; And thou alone hast wrought the change in me.
See at thy feet I kneel and pray, resolved This day shall end my misery or life. 670 Oh, pity her who loves thee-- _Hippolytus:_ God in heaven, Great ruler of all gods, dost thou this sin So calmly hear, so calmly see? If now Thou hurlest not thy bolt with deadly hand, What shameful cause will ever send it forth?
Let all the sky in shattered ruins fall, And hide the light of day in murky clouds. 675 Let stars turn back, and trace again their course Athwart their proper ways. And thou, great star Of stars, thou radiant Sun, let not thine eyes Behold the impious shame of this thy stock; But hide thy face, and to the darkness flee Why is thy hand, O king of gods and men, 680 Inactive? Why by forkéd lightning's brands Is not the world in flames? Direct thy bolts At me; pierce me. Let that fierce darting flame Consume me quite, for mine is all the blame.
I ought to die, for I have favor found In my stepmother's eyes.
[_To_ Phaedra.]
Did I seem one To thee to do this vile and shameful thing?
Did I seem easy fuel to thy fire, 685 I only? Has my virtuous life deserved Such estimate? Thou, worse than all thy kind!
Thou woman, who hast in thy heart conceived A deed more shameful than thy mother's sin, Whose womb gave monstrous birth; thou worse than she!
She stained herself with vilest lust, and long 690 Concealed the deed. But all in vain: at last, Her two-formed child revealed his mother's crime, And by his fierce bull-visage proved her guilt.
Of such a womb and mother art thou born.
Oh, thrice and four times blesséd is their lot Whom hate and treachery give o'er and doom 695 To death. O father, how I envy thee!
Thy stepdame was the Colchian; but this, This woman is a greater curse than she.
_Phaedra:_ I clearly see the destiny of my house: We follow ever what we should avoid.
But I have given over self-control; I'll follow thee through fire, through raging sea, 700 O'er ragged cliffs, through roaring torrents wild-- Wherever thou dost go, in mad pursuit I shall be borne. Again, O haughty one, I fall in suppliance and embrace thy knees.
_Hippolytus:_ Away from my chaste body with thy touch Impure! What more? She falls upon my breast! 705 I'll draw my sword and smite as she deserves.
See, by her twisted locks, I backward bend Her shameless head. No blood more worthily Was ever spilled, O goddess of the bow, Upon thy altars.
_Phaedra:_ Now, Hippolytus, 710 Thou dost fulfil the fondest wish of mine; Thou sav'st me from my madness; greater far Than all my hopes, that by the hands I love, By thine own hands, I perish ere I sin.
_Hippolytus:_ Then live, be gone! Thou shalt gain naught from me.
And this my sword, defiled by thy base touch, No more shall hang upon my modest side.