HippolytusOf EuripidesDramatis PersonsThe Goddess Aphrodite the Nurse of Ph*dra
The Goddess Artemis
¶Crete, wife to TheseusHIPPOLYTUS, bastard son of Theseus and AN OLD HUNTSMANthe Amazon Hippolyte A CHORUS OF HUNTSMEN
Attendants on the Three Royal PersonsA Chorus of Trozenian Women, with Their Leader
¶"The scene is laid in Trozin. The play was first acted when Epameinon was Archon, Olympiad 87, year 4 (B.C. 429). Euripides was first, lophon second, Ion third."
¶AphroditeR EAT among men, and not unnamed am I,The Cyprian, in God's inmost halls on high.And wheresoe'er from Pontus to the farRed West men dwell, and see the glad Day-star,And worship Me, the pious heart I bless,And wreck that life that lives in stubbornness.For that there is, even in a great God's mind,That hungereth for the praise of humankind.So runs my word; and soon the very deedShall follow. For this Prince of Theseus' seed,Hippolytus, child of that dead Amazon,And reared by saintly Pittheus in his ownStrait ways, hath dared, alone of all Trozen,To hold me least of spirits and most mean,And spurns my spell and seeks no woman's kiss.But great Apollo's sister, Artemis,He holds of all most high, gives love and praise,And through the wild dark woods for ever strays,He and the Maid together, with swift hounds[304]To slay all angry beasts from out these bounds,To more than mortal friendship consecrate!I grudge it not. No grudge know I, nor hate;Yet, seeing he hath offended, I this dayShall smite Hippolytus. Long since my wayWas opened, nor needs now much labour more.For once from Pittheus' castle to the shoreOf Athens came Hippolytus overseasSeeking the vision of the Mysteries.And Phaedra there, his father's Queen high-born,Saw him, and as she saw, her heart was tornWith great love, by the working of my will.And for his sake, long since, on Pallas' hill,Deep in the rock, that Love no more might roam,She built a shrine, and named it Love-at-home:And the rock held it, but its face alwaySeeks Trozen o'er the seas. Then came the dayWhen Theseus, for the blood of kinsmen shed,Spake doom of exile on himself, and fled,Phaedra beside him, even to this Trozen.And here that grievous and amazed Queen,Wounded and wondering, with ne'er a word,Wastes slowly; and her secret none hath heardNor dreamed.But never thus this love shall end!To Theseus' ear some whisper will I send,And all be bare! And that proud Prince, my foe,His sire shall slay with curses. Even soEndeth that boon the great Lord of the MainTo Theseus gave, the Three Prayers not in vain.And she, not in dishonour, yet shall die.I would not rate this woman's pain so highAs not to pay mine haters in full feeThat vengeance that shall make all well with me.
¶But soft, here comes he, striding from the chase,Our Prince Hippolytus!—I will go my ways.—[305]And hunters at his heels: and a loud throngGlorying Artemis with praise and song!Little he knows that Hell's gates opened are,And this his last look on the great Day-star![APHRODITE withdraws, unseen by HIPPOLYTUS anda band of huntsmen, who enter from the left,singing. They pass the Statue of APHRODITE without notice.
Hippolytus
¶Follow, O follow me,Singing on your waysHer in whose hand are we,Her whose own flock we be,The Zeus-Child, the Heavenly;To Artemis be praise!
Huntsmen
¶Hail to thee, Maiden blest,Proudest and holiest:God's Daughter, great in bliss,Leto-born, Artemis!Hail to thee, Maiden, farFairest of all that are,Yea, and most high thine home,Child of the Father's hall;Hear, O most virginal,Hear, O most fair of all,In high God's golden dome.
[The huntsmen have gathered about the altar of
¶ARTEMIS. HIPPOLYTUS now advances from them, and approaches the Statue with a wreath in his hand.
Hippolytus
¶To thee this wreathed garland, from a greenAnd virgin meadow bear I, O my Queen,[306]Where never shepherd leads his grazing ewesNor scythe has touched. Only the river dewsGleam, and the spring bee sings, and in the gladeHath Solitude her mystic garden made.No evil hand may cull it: only heWhose heart hath known the heart of Purity,Unlearned of man, and true whate'er befall.Take therefore from pure hands this coronal,O mistress loved, thy golden hair to twine.For, sole of living men, this grace is mine,To dwell with thee, and speak, and hear repliesOf voice divine, though none may see thine eyes.Oh, keep me to the end in this same road![An OLD HUNTSMAN, who has stood apart frothe rest, here comes up to HIPPOLYTUS.
Huntsman
Hippolytus
¶Right gladly, friend; else were I poor of wit.
Huntsman
¶Knowest thou one law, that through the world has won
Hippolytus
¶What wouldst thou ? And how runs thy law ? Say on.
Huntsman
¶It hates that Pride that speaks not all men fair!
Hippolytus
¶And rightly. Pride breeds hatred everywhere.
Huntsman
¶And good words love, and grace in all men's sight?
Hippolytus
¶Aye, and much gain withal, for trouble slight.
Huntsman
¶How deem'st thou of the Gods? Are they the same?
Hippolytus
¶Surely: we are but fashioned on their frame.
Huntsman
¶Why then wilt thou be proud, and worship not . . .
Hippolytus
¶Whom ? If the name be speakable, speak out!
Huntsman
¶She stands here at thy gate: the Cyprian Queen!
Hippolytus
¶I greet her from afar: my life is clean.
Huntsman
¶Clean? Nay, proud, proud; a mark for all to scan!
Hippolytus
¶Each mind hath its own bent, for God or man.
Huntsman
¶God grant thee happiness . . . and wiser thought!
Hippolytus
¶These Spirits that reign in darkness like me not.
Huntsman
¶What the Gods ask, O Son, that man must pay!
Hippolytus (turning from him to the others)
¶On, huntsmen, to the castle! Make your wayStraight to the feast room; 'tis a merry thingAfter the chase, a board of banqueting.And see the steeds be groomed, and in arrayThe chariot dight. I drive them forth to-day.[He pauses, and maizes a slight gesture of reverence tothe Statue on the left. Then to the OLD HUNTSMAN.That for thy Cyprian, friend, and naught beside![HIPPOLYTUS follows the huntsmen, who stream off bythe central door in the Castle. The OLD HUNTSMANremains.
Huntsman (approaching the Statue and kjieeling)
¶0 Cyprian—for a young man in his prideI will not follow!—here before thee, meek,In that one language that a slave may speak,I pray thee: Oh, if some wild heart in frothOf youth surges against thee, be not wrothFor ever! Nay, be far and hear not then:Gods should be gentler and more wise than men![He rises and follows the others into the Castle.
¶The Orchestra is empty for a moment, then there enterfrom right and left several Trozenian women, youngand old. Their number eventually amounts to fifteen.
Chorus
¶There riseth a rock-born river,Of Ocean's tribe, men say;The crags of it gleam and quiver,And pitchers dip in the spray:A woman was there with raiment whiteTo bathe and spread in the warm sunlight,And she told a tale to me there by the river,The tale of the Queen and her evil day:[309]How, ailing beyond allayment,Within she hath bowed her head,And with shadow of silken raimentThe bright brown hair bespread.For three long days she hath lain forlorn,Her lips untainted of flesh or corn,For that secret sorrow beyond allaymentThat steers to the far sad shore of the dead.
Some Women
¶Is this some Spirit, O child of man ?Doth Hecat hold thee perchance, or Pan?Doth she of the Mountains work her ban,Or the dread Corybantes bind thee?
Others
¶Nay, is it sin that upon thee lies,Sin of forgotten sacrifice,In thine own Dictynna's sea-wild eyes?Who in Limna here can find thee;For the Deep's dry floor is her easy way,And she moves in the salt wet whirl of the spray.
Other Women
¶Or doth the Lord of Erechtheus' race,Thy Theseus, watch for a fairer face,For secret arms in a silent place,Far from thy love or chiding?
Others
¶Or hath there landed, amid the loudHum of Pira?us' sailor-crowd,Some Cretan venturer, weary-browed,Who bears to the Queen some tiding;Some far home-grief, that hath bowed her low,And chained her soul to a bed of woe?
An Older Woman
¶Nay—know ye not?—this burden hath alway lainOn the devious being of woman; yea, burdens twain,The burden of Wild Will and the burden of Pain.Through my heart once that wind of terror sped;But I, in fear confessed,Cried from the dark to Her in heavenly bliss,The Helper of Pain, the Bow-Maid Artemis:Whose feet I praise for ever, where they treadFar off among the blessed!
The Leader
¶But see, the Queen's grey nurse at the door,Sad-eyed and sterner, methinks, than of yore,With the Queen. Doth she lead her hither,To the wind and sun?—Ah, fain would I knowWhat strange betiding hath blanched that brow,And made that young life wither.[The NURSE comes out from the central door, followed by PH^DRA, who is supported by twohandmaids. They make ready a couch forPHAEDRA to lie upon.
Nurse
¶O sick and sore are the days of men!What wouldst thou? What shall I change again?Here is the Sun for thee; here is the sky;And thy weary pillows wind-swept lie,By the castle door.But the cloud of thy brow is dark, I ween;And soon thou wilt back to thy bower within:So swift to change is the path of thy feet,And near things hateful, and far things sweet;So was it before!
¶Oh, pain were better than tending pain!For that were single, and this is twain,[311]With grief of heart and labour of limb.Yet all man's life is but ailing and dim,And rest upon earth comes never.But if any far-off state there be,Dearer than life to mortality;The hand of the Dark hath hold thereof,And mist is under and mist above.And so we are sick of life, and clingOn earth to this nameless and shining thing.For other life is a fountain sealed,And the deeps below are unrevealed,And we drift on legends for ever![ P H ^ DRA during this has been laid on her couch;
she speaks to the handmaids.
¶PhcedraYes; lift me: not my head so low.There, hold my arms.—Fair arms they seem!—My poor limbs scarce obey me now!Take off that hood that weighs my brow,And let my long hair stream.NurseNay, toss not, Child, so feveredly.The sickness best will win reliefBy quiet rest and constancy.All men have grief.Phardra (not noticing her)Oh for a deep and dewy spring,With runlets cold to draw and drink!And a great meadow blossoming,Long-grassed, and poplars in a ring,To rest me by the brink!
Phardra
¶Oh, take me to the Mountain! Oh,Past the great pines and through the wood,Up where the lean hounds softly go,A-whine for wild things' blood,And madly flies the dappled roe.O God, to shout and speed them there,An arrow by my chestnut hairDrawn tight, and one keen glimmering spear—Ah ! if I could!
Nurse
¶What wouldst thou with them—fancies all!—Thy hunting and thy fountain brink?What wouldst thou? By the city wallCanst hear our own brook plash and fallDownhill, if thou wouldst drink.
Pha-dra
¶O Mistress of the Sea-lorn MereWhere horse-hoofs beat the sand and sing,O Artemis, that I were thereTo tame Enetian steeds and steerSwift chariots in the ring!
Nurse
¶Nay, mountainward but now thy handsYearned out, with craving for the chase;And now toward the unseaswept sandsThou roamest, where the coursers pace!O wild young steed, what prophet knowsThe power that holds thy curb, and throwsThy swift heart from its race?[At these words P H ^ DRA gradually recovers herself
and pays attention.
Phttdra
¶What have I said? Woe's me. And whereGone straying from my wholesome mind?What? Did I fall in some god's snare?—Nurse, veil my head again, and blindMine eyes.—There is a tear behindThat lash.—Oh, I am sick with shame!Aye, but it hath a sting,To come to reason; yet the nameOf madness is an awful thing.—Could I but die in one swift flameUnthinking, unknowing!
Nurse
¶I veil thy face, Child.—Would that soMine own were veiled for evermore,So sore I love thee! . . . Though the loreOf long life mocks me, and I knowHow love should be a lightsome thingNot rooted in the deep o' the heart;With gentle ties, to twine apartIf need so call, or closer cling.—Why do I love thee so? O fool,O fool, the heart that bleeds for twain,And builds, men tell us, walls of pain,To walk by love's unswerving rule,The same for ever, stern and true!For "Thorough" is no word of peace:'Tis "Naught-too-much" makes trouble cease.And many a wise man bows thereto.[The LEADER OF THE CHORUS here approaches the
Nurse.Leader
¶Nurse of our Queen, thou watcher old and true,We see her great affliction, but no clue[314]Have we to learn the sickness. Wouldst thou tellThe name and sort thereof, 'twould like us well.
Nurse
¶Small leechcraft have I, and she tells no man.
Leader
¶Thou know'st no cause ? Nor when the unrest began ?
Nurse
¶It all comes to the same. She will not speak.
Leader (turning and lookjng at PHAEDRA)
¶How she is changed and wasted! And how weak!
Nurse
¶'Tis the third day she hath fasted utterly.
Leader
¶What, is she mad? Or doth she seek to die?
Nurse
¶I know not. But to death it sure must lead.
Leader
¶'Tis strange that Theseus takes hereof no heed.
Nurse
¶She hides her wound, and vows it is not so.
Leader
¶Can he not look into her face and know?
Nurse
¶Nay, he is on a journey these last days.
Leader
Nurse
¶Have I not tried all ways, and all in vain ?Yet will I cease not now, and thou shalt tellIf in her grief I serve my mistress well![She goes across to where PHiEDRA lies; andpresently, while speaking, kneels by her.Dear daughter mine, all that before was saidLet both of us forget; and thou insteadBe kindlier, and unlock that prisoned brow.And I, who followed then the wrong road, nowWill leave it and be wiser. If thou fearSome secret sickness, there be women hereTo give thee comfort. [PHAEDRA shakes her head.No ; not secret? ThenIs it a sickness meet for aid of men?Speak, that a leech may tend thee.Silent still ?Nay, Child, what profits silence? If 'tis illThis that I counsel, make me see the wrong:If well, then yield to me.Nay, Child, I longFor one kind word, one look![PHAEDRA lies motionless. The NURSE rises.Oh, woe is me!Women, we labour here all fruitlessly,All as far off as ever from her heart!She ever scorned me, and now hears no partOf all my prayers! [Turning to PHitDRA again.Nay, hear thou shalt, and be,Is so thou will, more wild than the wild sea;But know, thou art thy little ones' betrayer!If thou die now, shall child of thine be heir[316]To Theseus' castle ? Nay, not thine, I ween,But hers! That barbed Amazonian QueenHath left a child to bend thy children low,A bastard royal-hearted—sayst not so?—Hippolytus . . .
Phxdra
Nurse
¶That stings thee?
Phxdra
¶Nurse, most sore Thou hast hurt me! In God's name, speak that name no
¶more.
Nurse
¶Thou seest? Thy mind is clear; but with thy mindThou wilt not save thy children, nor be kindTo thine own life.
Phxdra
Nurse (after a pause, wondering)
¶Thy hand is clean, O Child, from stain of blood?
Phxdra
¶My hand is clean; but is my heart, O God?
Nurse
¶Some enemy's spell hath made thy spirit dim?
Phxdra
¶He hates me not that slays me, nor I him.
Nurse
¶Theseus, the King, hath wronged thee in man's wise?
Pheedra
¶Ah , could but I stand guiltless in his eyes!
Nurse
¶0 speak! What is this death-fraught mystery?
Phtcdra
¶Nay, leave me to my wrong. I wrong not thee.
Nurse (suddenly throwing herself in supplication
Pheedra (rising and trying to move away)
¶What wouldst thou? Force me? Clinging to my sleeve?
Nurse
¶Yea, to thy knees; and weep; and let not go!
Pha-dra
¶Woe to thee, Woman, if thou learn it, woe!
Nurse
¶I know no bitterer woe than losing thee.
Phardra
¶I am lost! Yet the deed shall honour me.
Nurse
¶Why hide what honours thee? Tis all I claim!
Pha-dra
¶Why, so I build up honour out of shame!
Nurse
¶Then speak, and higher still thy fame shall stand.
Phxdra
¶Go, in God's name!—Nay, leave me; loose my hand!
Nurse
¶Never, until thou grant me what I pray.
Phxdra (yielding, after a pause)
¶So be it. I dare not tear that hand away.Nurse (rising and releasing PHAEDRA)Tell all thou wilt, Daughter. I speak no more.
Phxdra (after a long pause)
¶Mother, poor Mother, that didst love so sore!
Nurse
¶What mean'st thou, Child? The Wild Bull of the Tide?
Phxdra
¶And thou, sad sister, Dionysus' bride!
Nurse
¶Child! wouldst thou shame the house where thou wast
¶born?
Phxdra
¶And I the third, sinking most all-forlorn!
Nurse (to herself)
¶I am all lost and feared. What will she say?
Phxdra
¶From there my grief comes, not from yesterday.
Nurse
¶I come no nearer to thy parable.
Phxdra
¶Oh, would that thou couldst tell what I must tell!
Nurse
¶I am no seer in things I wot not of.
Pheedra (again hesitating)
¶What is it that they mean, who say men . . . love?
Nurse
¶A thing most sweet, my Child, yet dolorous.
Phardra
¶Only the half, belike, hath fallen on us!
Nurse (starting)
¶On thee? Love?—Oh, what sayst thou? What man's son?
Phardra
¶What man's ? There was a Queen, an Amazon . . .
Nurse
¶Hippolytus, sayst thou?
Phardra (again wrapping her face in the veil)
¶Nay, 'twas thou, not I !
f PHJEDRA sinks back on the couch and covers her face
¶again. The NURSE starts violently from her and walks up and down.
Nurse
¶O God! what wilt thou say, Child? Wouldst thou tryTo kill me?—Oh, 'tis more than I can bear;[320]Women, I will no more of it, this glareOf hated day, this shining of the sky.I will fling down my body, and let it lieTill life be gone!Women, God rest with you,My works are over! For the pure and trueAre forced to evil, against their own heart's vow,And love it![She suddenly sees the Statue of CYPRIS , andstands with her eyes riveted upon it.Ah, Cyprian! No god art thou,But more than god, and greater, that hath thrustMe and my queen and all our house to dust![She throws herself on the ground close to theStatue.
ChorusSome Women
A Woman
Others
Others
¶How wilt thou bear thee through this livelong day,Lost, and thine evil naked to the light?Strange things are close upon us—who shall sayHow strange?—save one thing that is plain to sight,The stroke of the Cyprian and the fall thereofOn thee, thou child of the Isle of fearful Love!
[PHJEDRA during this has risen from the couch and
¶comes forward collectedly. As she speaks the
¶NURSE gradually rouses herself, and listens more calmly.
Phxdra
¶0 Women, dwellers in this portal-seatOf Pelops' land, gazing towards my Crete,How oft, in other days than these, have IThrough night's long hours thought of man's misery,And how this life is wrecked! And, to mine eyes,Not in man's knowledge, not in wisdom, liesThe lack that makes for sorrow. Nay, we scanAnd know the right—for wit hath many a man—But will not to the last end strive and serve.For some grow too soon weary, and some swerveTo other paths, setting before the RightThe diverse far-off image of Delight;And many are delights beneath the sun!Long hours of converse; and to sit aloneMusing—a deadly happiness!—and Shame:Though two things there be hidden in one name,And Shame can be slow poison if it will!This is the truth I saw then, and see still;Nor is there any magic that can stainThat white truth for me, or make me blind again.Come, I will show thee how my spirit hath moved.When the first stab came, and I knew I loved,I cast about how best to face mine ill.And the first thought that came, was to be stillAnd hide my sickness.—For no trust there isIn man's tongue, that so well admonishesAnd counsels and betrays, and waxes fatWith griefs of its own gathering!—After thatI would my madness bravely bear, and tryTo conquer by mine own heart's purity.My third mind, when these two availed me naughtTo quell love, was to die—[322][Motion of protest among the Women.—the best, best thought——Gainsay me not—of all that man can say!I would not have mine honour hidden away;Why should I have my shame before men's eyesKept living? And I knew, in deadly wise,Shame was the deed and shame the suffering;And I a woman, too, to face the thing,Despised of all!Oh, utterly accurstBe she of women, whoso dared the firstTo cast her honour out to a strange man!'Twas in some great house, surely, that beganThis plague upon us; then the baser kind,When the good led towards evil, followed blindAnd joyous! Cursed be they whose lips are cleanAnd wise and seemly, but their hearts withinRank with bad daring! How can they, O ThouThat walkest on the waves, great Cyprian, howSmile in their husbands' faces, and not fall,Not cower before the Darkness that knows all,Aye, dread the dead still chambers, lest one dayThe stones find voice, and all be finished!Nay,Friends, 'tis for this I die; lest I stand thereHaving shamed my husband and the babes I bare.In ancient Athens they shall some day dwell,My babes, free men, free-spoken, honourable,And when one asks their mother, proud of me!For, oh, it cows a man, though bold he be,To know a mother's or a father's sin.'Tis written, one way is there, one, to winThis life's race, could man keep it from his birth,A true clean spirit. And through all this earthTo every false man, that hour comes apaceWhen Time holds up a mirror to his face,And girl-like, marvelling, there he stares to seeHow foul his heart! Be it not so with me!
Leader of the Chorus
Nurse (who has now risen and recovered herself)
¶Mistress, a sharp swift terror struck me lowA moment since, hearing of this thy woe.But now—I was a coward! And men sayOur second thought the wiser is alway.This is no monstrous thing; no grief too direTo meet with quiet thinking. In her ireA most strong goddess hath swept down on thee.Thou lovest. Is that so strange ? Many there beBeside thee! . . . And because thou lovest, wilt fallAnd die! And must all lovers die, then? AllThat are or shall be? A blithe law for them!Nay, when in might she swoops, no strength can stemCypris; and if man yields him, she is sweet;But is he proud and stubborn? From his feetShe lifts him, and—how think you?—flings to scorn!She ranges with the stars of eve and morn,She wanders in the heaving of the sea,And all life lives from her.—Aye, this is sheThat sows Love's seed and brings Love's fruit to birth;And great Love's brethren are all we on earth!Nay, they who con grey books of ancient daysOr dwell among the Muses, tell—and praise—How Zeus himself once yearned for Semele;How maiden Eos in her radiancySwept Kephalos to heaven away, away,For sore love's sake. And there they dwell, men say,And fear not, fret not; for a thing too sternHath met and crushed them!And must thou, then, turnAnd struggle? Sprang there from thy father's bloodThy little soul all lonely? Or the godThat rules thee, is he other than our gods?[324]Nay, yield thee to men's ways, and kiss their rods!How many, deem'st thou, of men good and wise,Know their own home's blot, and avert their eyes?How many fathers, when a son has strayedAnd toiled beneath the Cyprian, bring him aid,Not chiding? And man's wisdom e'er hath beenTo keep what is not good to see, unseen!A straight and perfect life is not for man;Nay, in a shut house, let him, if he can,'Mid sheltered rooms, make all lines true. But here,Out in the wide sea fallen, and full of fear,Hopest thou so easily to swim to land?Canst thou but set thine ill days on one handAnd more good days on the other, verily,O child of woman, life is well with thee![She pauses, and then draws nearer to PHJEDRA.Nay, dear my daughter, cease thine evil mind,Cease thy fierce pride! For pride it is, and blind,To seek to outpass gods!—Love on and dare:A god hath willed it! And, since pain is there,Make the pain sleep! Songs are there to bring calm,And magic words. And I shall find the balm,Be sure, to heal thee. Else in sore dismayWere men, could not we women find our way!
Leader of the Chorus
¶Help is there, Queen, in all this woman says,To ease thy suffering. But 'tis thee I praise;Albeit that praise is harder to thine earThan all her chiding was, and bitterer!
¶PhardraOh, this it is hath flung to dogs and birdsMen's lives and homes and cities—fair false words!Oh, why speak things to please our ears ? We craveNot that. 'Tis honour, honour, we must save!
Nurse
¶Why prate so proud ? 'Tis no words, brave nor base,Thou era vest; 'tis a man's arms![ PHXDRA moves indignantly.Up and faceThe truth of what thou art, and name it straight!Were not thy life thrown open here for FateTo beat on; hadst thou been a woman pureOr wise or strong; never had I for lureOf joy nor heartache led thee on to this!But when a whole life one great battle is,To win or lose—no man can blame me then.
Phcedra
Nurse
¶Foul, if thou wilt: but better than the fairFor thee and me. And better, too, the deedBehind them, if it save thee in thy need.Than that word Honour thou wilt die to win!
Phxdra
¶Nay, in God's name,—such wisdom and such sinAre all about thy lips!—urge me no more.For all the soul within me is wrought o'erBy Love; and if thou speak and speak, I mayBe spent, and drift where now I shrink away.
Nurse
¶Well, if thou wilt!—'Twere best never to err,But, having erred, to take a counsellorIs second.—Mark me now. I have withinLove-philtres, to make peace where storm hath been,[326]That, with no shame, no scathe of mind, shall saveThy life from anguish; wilt but thou be brave![To herself, reflecting.Ah, but from him, the well-beloved, some signWe need, or word, or raiment's hem, to twineAmid the charm, and one spell knit from twain.
Phardra
¶Is it a potion or a salve ? Be plain.
Nurse
¶Who knows? Seek to be helped, Child, not to know.
Pha-dra
¶Why art thou ever subtle? I dread thee, so.
Nurse
¶Thou wouldst dread everything!—What dost thou dread?
Phardra
¶Lest to his ear some word be whispered.
Nurse
¶Let be, Child! I will make all well with thee!—Only do thou, O Cyprian of the Sea,Be with me! And mine own heart, come what may,Shall know what ear to seek, what word to say![The NURSE , having spoken these last words in prayerapart to the Statue of CYPRIS , turns back ar,d g° e*into the house. PH-EDRA sits pensive again on hercouch till towards the end of the following Song,
when she rises and bends close to the door.Chorus
¶Eros, Eros, who blindest, tear by tear,Men's eyes with hunger; thou swift Foe, that pliestDeep in our hearts joy like an edged spear;[327]Come not to me with Evil haunting near,Wrath on the wind, nor jarring of the clearWing's music as thou fliest!There is no shaft that burneth, not in fire,Not in wild stars, far off and flinging fear,As in thine hands the shaft of All Desire,Eros, Child of the Highest!
¶In vain, in vain, by old Alpheiis' shoreThe blood of many bulls doth stain the river,And all Greece bows on Phoebus' Pythian floor;Yet bring we to the Master of Man no store,The Key-bearer, who standeth at the doorClose-barred, where hideth everThe heart of the shrine. Yea, though he sack man's lifeLike a sacked city, and moveth evermoreGirt with calamity and strange ways of strife,Him have we worshipped never!
¶There roamed a Steed in OEchalia's wild,A Maid without yoke, without Master,And Love she knew not, that far King's child;But he came, he came, with a song in the night,With fire, with blood; and she strove in flight,A Torrent Spirit, a Maenad white,Faster and vainly faster,Sealed unto Heracles by the Cyprian's Might.Alas, thou Bride of Disaster!
¶O Mouth of Dirce, O god-built wall,That Dirce's wells run under,Ye know the Cyprian's fleet footfall!Ye saw the heavens around her flare,When she lulled to her sleep that Mother fairOf Twy-born Bacchus, and decked her thereThe Bride of the bladed Thunder.
p. 328¶For her breath is on all that hath life, and she floats in the air, Bee-like, death-like, a wonder.
¶[During the last lines PH.EDRA has approached the door
¶and is listening.
Pheedra
¶Silence, ye Women! Something is amiss.
Leader
¶How ? In the house?—Phardra, what fear is this?
Phardra
¶Let me but listen! There are voices. Hark!
Leader
¶I hold my peace: yet is thy presage dark.
Phardra
Leader
¶What sound, what word,0 Woman, Friend, makes that sharp terror startOut at thy lips? What ominous cry half-heardHath leapt upon thine heart?
Phardra
Leader
¶Thou art beside the bars. 'Tis thine to markThe castle's floating message. Say, oh, sayWhat thing hath come to thee?
Phardra (calmly)
¶Why, what thing should it be?[329]The son of that proud Amazon speaks againIn bitter wrath: speaks to my handmaiden!
Leader
¶I hear a noise of voices, nothing clear.For thee the din hath words, as through barred locksFloating, at thy heart it knocks.
Phxdra
Leader
¶Ah me, betrayed! Betrayed!Sweet Princess, thou art ill bested,Thy secret brought to light, and ruin near,By her thou heldest dear,By her that should have loved thee and obeyed!
Phxdra
Leader
Phxdra
¶I know not, save one thing, to die right soon.For such as me God keeps no other boon.[The door in the centre bursts open, and HIPPOLYTUScomes forth, closely followed by the NURSE .PHXDRA cowers aside.
Hippolytus
Nurse
¶Hush, O my Prince, lest others mark, and guess . . .
Hippolytus
¶I have heard horrors! Shall I hold my peace?
Nurse
¶Yea, by this fair right arm, Son, by thy pledge . .
Hippolytus
¶Down with that hand! Touch not my garment's edge!
Nurse
¶Oh, by thy knees, be silent or I die!
Hippolytus
¶Why, when thy speech was all so guiltless ? Why ?
Nurse
¶It is not meet, fair Son, for every ear!
Hippolytus
¶Good words can bravely forth, and have no fear.
Nurse
¶Thine oath, thine oath! I took thine oath before!
Hippolytus
¶'Twas but my tongue, 'twas not my soul that swore.
Nurse
¶0 Son, what wilt thou? Wilt thou slay thy kin?
Hippolytus
Nurse
¶Nay, spare me! Man was born to err; oh, spare!
Hippolytus
¶O God, why hast Thou made this gleaming snare,Woman, to dog us on the happy earth ?Was it Thy will to make Man, why his birthThrough Love and Woman ? Could we not have rolledOur store of prayer and offering, royal gold,Silver and weight of bronze before Thy feet,And bought of God new child-souls, as were meetFor each man's sacrifice, and dwelt in homesFree, where nor Love nor Woman goes and comes?How, is that daughter not a bane confessed,Whom her own sire sends forth—(he knows her best!)—And, will some man but take her, pays a dower!And he, poor fool, takes home the poison-flower;Laughs to hang jewels on the deadly thingHe joys in; labours for her robe-wearing,Till wealth and peace are dead. He smarts the lessIn whose high seat is set a Nothingness,A woman naught availing. Worst of allThe wise deep-thoughted! Never in my hallMay she sit throned who thinks and waits and sighs!For Cypris breeds most evil in the wise,And least in her whose heart has naught within;For puny wit can work but puny sin.Why do we let their handmaids pass the gate?Wild beasts were best, voiceless and fanged, to waitAbout their rooms, that they might speak with none,Nor ever hear one answering human tone!But now dark women in still chambers layPlans that creep out into the light of dayOn handmaids' lips— f Turning to the NURSE .As thine accursed headBraved the high honour of my Father's bed,[332]And came to traffic. . . . Our white torrent's sprayShall drench mine ears to wash those words away!And couldst thou dream that / . . . ? I feel impureStill at the very hearing! Know for sure,Woman, naught but mine honour saves ye both.Hadst thou not trapped me with that guileful oath,No power had held me secret till the KingKnew all! But now, while he is journeying,I too will go my ways and make no sound.And when he comes again, I shall be foundBeside him, silent, watching with what graceThou and thy mistress greet him face to face!Then shall I have the taste of it, and knowWhat woman's guile is.—Woe upon you, woe!How can I too much hate you, while the illYe work upon the world grows deadlier still?Too much? Make woman pure, and wild Love tame,Or let me cry for ever on their shame![He goes off in fury to the left. PHXDRA still cowering in her place begins to sob.
Theeira
¶Sad, sad and evil-starredIs Woman's state.What shelter now is left or guard?What spell to loose the iron knot of fate?And this thing, O my God,0 thou sweet Sunlight, is but my desert!I cannot fly before the avenging rodFalls, cannot hide my hurt.What help, O ye who love me, can come near,What god or man appear,To aid a thing so evil and so lost ?Lost, for this anguish presses, soon or late,To that swift river that no life hath crossed.No woman ever lived so desolate!
Leader of the Chorus
[At these words PHAEDRA suddenly remembers the
¶NURSE , who is cowering silently where HIP
¶POLYTUS had thrown her from him. She turns upon her.
Phardra
¶0 wicked, wicked, wicked! Murderess heartTo them that loved thee! Hast thou played thy part?Am I enough trod down?May Zeus, my sire,Blast and uproot thee! Stab thee dead with fire!Said I not—knew I not thine heart?—to nameTo no one soul this that is now my shame ?And thou couldst not be silent! So no moreI die in honour. But enough; a storeOf new words must be spoke and new things thought.This man's whole being to one blade is wroughtOf rage against me. Even now he speedsTo abase me to the King with thy misdeeds;Tell Pittheus; fill the land with talk of sin!Cursed be thou, and whoso else leaps inTo bring bad aid to friends that want it not.[The NURSE has raised herself, and faces P K * DRA ,downcast but calm.
Nurse
¶Mistress, thou blamest me; and all thy lotSo bitter sore is, and the sting so wild,I bear with all. Yet, if I would, my Child,I have mine answer, couldst thou hearken aught.I nursed thee, and I love thee; and I soughtOnly some balm to heal thy deep despair,[334]And found—not what I sought for. Else I wereWise, and thy friend, and good, had all sped right.So fares it with us all in the world's sight.
Phxdra
Nurse
Phxdra
¶A way? No more ways! One way hast thou trodAlready, foul and false and loathed of God!Begone out of my sight; and ponder howThine own life stands! I need no helpers now.[She turns from the NURSE , who creeps abashedaway into the Castle.Only do ye, high Daughters of Trozen,Let all ye hear be as it had not been;Know naught, and speak of naught! 'Tis my last prayer.
Leader
Phxdra
¶'Tis well. But now, yea, even while I reelAnd falter, one poor hope, as hope now is,I clutch at in this coil of miseries;To save some honour for my children's sake;Yea, for myself some fragment, though things breakIn ruin around me. Nay, I will not shameThe old proud Cretan castle whence I came,I will not cower before King Theseus' eyes,Abased, for want of one life's sacrifice!
Leader
¶What wilt thou ? Some dire deed beyond recall ?
Phcedra (musing)
¶Die; but how die?
Leader
¶Let not such wild words fall!
Phxdra (turning upon her)
¶Give thou not such light counsel! Let me beTo sate the Cyprian that is murdering me!To-day shall be her day; and, all strife past,Her bitter Love shall quell me at the last.Yet, dying, shall I die another's bane!He shall not stand so proud where I have lainBent in the dust! Oh, he shall stoop to shareThe life I live in, and learn mercy there![She goes off wildly into the Castle.
Chorus
¶Could I take me to some cavern for mine hiding,In the hill-tops where the Sun scarce hath trod;Or a cloud make the home of mine abiding,As a bird among the bird-droves of God!Could I wing me to my rest amid the roarOf the deep Adriatic on the shore,Where the waters of Eridanus are clear,And Phaethon's sad sisters by his graveWeep into the river, and each tearGleams, a drop of amber, in the wave;
¶To the strand of the Daughters of the Sunset,The Apple-tree, the singing and the gold;Where the mariner must stay him from his onset,And the red wave is tranquil as of old;[336]Yea, beyond that Pillar of the EndThat Atlas guardeth, would I wend;Where a voice of living waters never ceasethIn God's quiet garden by the sea,And Earth, the ancient life-giver, increasethJoy among the meadows, like a tree.
¶O shallop of Crete, whose milk-white wingThrough the swell and the storm-beating,Bore us thy Prince's daughter,Was it well she came from a joyous homeTo a far King's bridal across the foam?What joy hath her bridal brought her ?Sure some spell upon either handFlew with thee from the Cretan strand,Seeking Athena's tower divine;And there, where Munychus fronts the brine,Crept by the shore-flung cables' line,The curse from the Cretan water!
¶And, for that dark spell that about her clings,Sick desires of forbidden thingsThe soul of her rend and sever;The bitter tide of calamityHath risen above her lips; and she,Where bends she her last endeavour?She will hie her alone to her bridal room,And a rope swing slow in the rafters' gloom;And a fair white neck shall creep to the noose,A-shudder with dread, yet firm to chooseThe one strait way for fame, and loseThe Love and the pain for ever.[The Voice of the NURSE is heard from within,crying, at first inarticulately, then clearly.
Voice
A Woman
Voice
A Woman
¶Say, friends, what think ye? Should we haste within,And from her own hand's knotting loose the Queen?
Another
Voice
A Woman
[The Women, intent upon the voices from the
¶Castle, have not noticed the approach ofTHESEUS . He enters from the left; his dress andthe garland on his head show that he has returned from some oracle or special abode of a
God. He stands for a moment perplexed.Theseus
¶Ho, Women, and what means this loud acclaimWithin the house? The vassals' outcry cameTo smite mine ears far off. It were more meetTo fling out wide the castle gates, and greetWith joy a herald from God's Presence![338][The confusion and horror of the Women's facesgradually affects him. A dirge-cry comes fromthe Castle.How ?Not Pittheus ? Hath Time struck that hoary brow ?Old is he, old, I know. But sore it were,Returning thus, to find his empty chair![The Women hesitate; then the Leader comesforward.
Leader
Theseus
¶Ye Gods! One of my children torn from me?
Leader
¶Thy motherless children live, most grievously.
Theseus
Leader
¶In a high death-knot that her own hands tied.
Theseus
Leader
¶We know no more. But now arrived we be,Theseus, to mourn for thy calamity.[ THESEUS stays for a moment silent, and puts hishand on his brow. He notices the wreath.
Theseus
¶What? And all garlanded I come to herWith flowers, most evil-starred God's-messenger!Ho, varlets, loose the portal bars; undoThe bolts; and let me see the bitter viewOf her whose death hath brought me to mine own.[The great central door of the Castle is thrownopen wide, and the body of PHAEDRA is seen lyingon a bier, surrounded by a group of Handmaids,wailing.
The Handmaids
¶Ah me, what thou hast suffered and hast done:A deed to wrap this roof in flame!Why was thine hand so strong, thine heart so bold?Wherefore, O dead in anger, dead in shame,The long, long wrestling ere thy breath was cold?O ill-starred Wife,What brought this blackness over all thy life?[A throng of Men and Women has gradually collected.
Theseus
¶Ah me, this is the last—Hear, O my countrymen!—and bitterestOf Theseus' labours! Fortune all unblest,How hath thine heavy heel across me passed!Is it the stain of sins done long ago,Some fell God still remembereth,That must so dim and fret my life with death?I cannot win to shore; and the waves flowAbove mine eyes, to be surmounted not.Ah wife, sweet wife, what nameCan fit thine heavy lot?Gone like a wild bird, like a blowing flame,In one swift gust, where all things are forgot!Alas! this misery![340]Sure 'tis some stroke of God's great anger rolledFrom age to age on me,For some dire sin wrought by dim kings of old.
header
Theseus
¶Deep, deep beneath the Earth,Dark may my dwelling be,And Night my heart's one comrade, in the dearth,O Love, of thy most sweet society.This is my death, O Phaedra, more than thine.[He turns suddenly on the Attendants.Speak who speak can! What was it? What malignSwift stroke, O heart discounselled, leapt on thee?[He bends over PHAEDRA; then, as no one speaks,loo\s fiercely up.What, will ye speak ? Or are they dumb as death,This herd of thralls, my high house harboureth?[There is no answer. He bends again over
Phadra.
¶Ah me, why shouldst thou die ?A wide and royal grief I here behold,Not to be borne in peace, not to be told.As a lost man am I,My children motherless and my house undone,Since thou art vanished quite,Purest of hearts that e'er the wandering SunTouched, or the star-eyed splendour of the Night.[He throws himself beside the body.
Chorus
¶Unhappy one, O most unhappy one;With what strange evil is this castle vexed![341]Mine eyes are molten with the tears that runFor thee and thine; but what thing follows next?I tremble when I think thereon![They have noticed that there is a tablet withwriting fastened to the dead woman's wrist.THESEUS also sees it.
Theseus
¶Ha, what is this that hangs from her dear hand ?A tablet! It would make me understandSome dying wish, some charge about her bedAnd children. 'Twas the last prayer, ere her headWas bowed for ever. [Taking the tablet.Fear not, my lost bride,No woman born shall lie at Theseus' side,Nor rule in Theseus' house!A seal! Ah , seeHow her gold signet here looks up at me,Trustfully. Let me tear this thread away,And read what tale the tablet seeks to say.
Some Women
¶Woe, woe! God brings to birthA new grief here, close on the other's tread!My life hath lost its worth.May all go now with what is finished!The castle of my King is overthrown,A house no more, a house vanished and gone!
Other Women
¶O God, if it may be in any way,Let not this house be wrecked! Help us who pray![342]I know not what is here: some unseen thingThat shows the Bird of Evil on the wing.[ THESEUS has read the tablet and breaks out inuncontrollable emotion.
Theseus
Leader
¶What, O my King? If I may hear it, speak I
Theseus
¶Doth not the tablet cry aloud, yea, shriek,Things not to be forgotten?—Oh, to flyAnd hide mine head! No more a man am I.Ah , God, what ghastly music echoes here!
Leader
¶How wild thy voice! Some terrible thing is near.
Theseus
¶No ; my lips' gates will hold it back no more;This deadly word,That struggles on the brink and will not o'er,Yet will not stay unheard.[He raises his hand, to make proclamation to allpresent.Ho, hearken all this land![The people gather expectantly about him.Hippolytus by violence hath laid handOn this my wife, forgetting God's great eye.[Murmurs of amazement and horror; THESEUS ,apparently calm, raises both arms to heaven.Therefore, O thou my Father, hear my cry,Poseidon! Thou didst grant me for mine ownThree prayers; for one of these, slay now my son,[343]Hippolytus; let him not outlive this day,If true thy promise was! Lo, thus I pray.
header
Theseus
¶It may not be.—And more, I cast him outFrom all my realms. He shall be held aboutBy two great dooms. Or by Poseidon's breathHe shall fall swiftly to the house of Death;Or wandering, outcast, o'er strange land and sea,Shall live and drain the cup of misery.
header
¶Ah, see! here comes he at the point of need.Shake off that evil mood, O King : have heedFor all thine house and folk.—Great Theseus, hear![ THESEUS stands silent in fierce gloom. HIPPO L YTUS comes in from the right.
Hippolytus
¶Father, I heard thy cry, and sped in fearTo help thee.—But I see not yet the causeThat racked thee so.—Say, Father, what it was.[The murmurs in the crowd, the silent gloom ofhis Father, and the horror of the Chorus-women gradually work, on HIPPOLYTUS andbewilder him. He catches sight of the bier.Ah, what is that! Nay, Father, not the QueenDead! [Murmurs in the crowd.'Tis most strange. 'Tis passing strange, I ween.'Twas here I left her. Scarce an hour hath runSince here she stood and looked on this same sun.What is it with her? Wherefore did she die?[ THESEUS remains silent. The murmurs increase.[344]Father, to thee I speak. Oh, tell me, why,Why art thou silent? What doth silence knowOf skill to stem the bitter flood of woe ?And human hearts in sorrow crave the moreFor knowledge, though the knowledge grieve them sore.It is not love, to veil thy sorrows inFrom one most near to thee, and more than kin.
Theseus (to himself)
¶Fond race of men, so striving and so blind,Ten thousand arts and wisdoms can ye find,Desiring all and all imagining:But ne'er have reached nor understood one thing,To make a true heart there where no heart is!
Hippolytus
¶That were indeed beyond man's mysteries,To make a false heart true against his will.But why this subtle talk ? It likes me ill,Father; thy speech runs wild beneath this blow.
Theseus (as before)
¶O would that God had given us here belowSome test of love, some sifting of the soul,To tell the false and true! Or through the wholeOf men two voices ran, one true and right,The other as chance willed it; that we mightConvict the liar by the true man's tone,And not live duped for ever, every one!Hippolytus (misunderstanding him; then guessing at
something of the truth)
¶What? Hath some friend proved false?Or in thine earWhispered some slander? Stand I tainted here,Though utterly innocent? [Murmurs from the crowd.Yea, dazed am I ;'Tis thy words daze me, falling all awry,Away from reason, by fell fancies vexed!
Theseus
¶0 heart of man, what height wilt venture next?What end comes to thy daring and thy crime?For if with each man's life 'twill higher climb,And every age break out in blood and liesBeyond its fathers, must not God deviseSome new world far from ours, to hold thereinSuch brood of all unfaithfulness and sin?Look, all, upon this man, my son, his lifeSprung forth from mine! He hath defiled my wife;And standeth here convicted by the dead,A most black villain![ HIPPOLYTUS falls back, with a cry and covershis face with his robe.Nay, hide not thine head!Pollution, is it? Thee it will not stain.Look up, and face thy Father's eyes again!Thou friend of Gods, of all mankind elect;Thou the pure heart, by thoughts of ill unflecked!I care not for thy boasts. I am not mad,To deem that Gods love best the base and bad.Now is thy day! Now vaunt thee; thou so pure,No flesh of life may pass thy lips! Now lureFools after thee; call Orpheus King and Lord;Make ecstasies and wonders! Thumb thine hoardOf ancient scrolls and ghostly mysteries—Now thou art caught and known!Shun men like these,I charge ye all! With solemn words they chaseTheir prey, and in their hearts plot foul disgrace.My wife is dead.—"Ha, so that saves thee now" ?That is what grips thee worst, thou caitiff, thou!What oaths, what subtle words, shall stronger beThan this dead hand, to clear the guilt from thee?"She hated thee," thou sayest; "the bastard bornIs ever sore and bitter as a thorn[346]To the true brood."—A sorry bargainerIn the ills and goods of life thou makest her,If all her best-beloved she cast awayTo wreak blind hate on thee!—What, wilt thou say,"Through every woman's nature one blind strandOf passion winds, that men scarce understand"?—Are we so different? Know I not the fireAnd perilous flood of a young man's desire,Desperate as any woman, and as blind,When Cypris stings? Save that the man behindHas all men's strength to aid him. Nay, 'twas thou . . .But what avail to wrangle with thee now,When the dead speaks for all to understand,A perfect witness!Hie thee from this landTo exile with all speed. Come nevermoreTo god-built Athens, not to the utmost shoreOf any realm where Theseus' arm is strong!What ? Shall I bow my head beneath this wrong,And cower to thee? Not Isthmian Sinis soWill bear men witness that I laid him low,Nor Skiron's rocks, that share the salt sea's prey,Grant that my hand hath weight vile things to slay!
Leader
Hippolytus
¶Father, the hot strained fury of thy heartIs terrible. Yet, albeit so swift thou artOf speech, if all this matter were laid bare,Speech were not then so swift; nay, nor so fair. . . .[Murmurs again in the crowtI have no skill before a crowd to tellMy thoughts. 'Twere best with few, that know me well.-[347]Nay, that is natural; tongues that sound but rudeIn wise men's ears, speak to the multitudeWith music.None the less, since there is comeThis stroke upon me, I must not be dumb,But speak perforce. . . . And there will I beginWhere thou beganst, as though to strip my sinNaked, and I not speak a word!Dost seeThis sunlight and this earth? I swear to theeThere dwelleth not in these one man—denyAll that thou wilt!—more pure of sin than I.Two things I know on earth: God's worship first;Next, to win friends about me, few, that thirstTo hold them clean of all unrighteousness.Our rule doth curse the tempters, and no lessWho yieldeth to the tempters.—How, thou sayst,"Dupes that I jest at"? Nay; I make a jestOf no man. I am honest to the end,Near or far off, with him I call my friend.And most in that one thing, where now thy meshWould grip me, stainless quite! No woman's fleshHath e'er this body touched. Of all such deedNaught wot I, save what things a man may readIn pictures or hear spoke; nor am I fain,Being virgin-souled, to read or hear again.My life of innocence moves thee not; so be it.Show then what hath seduced me; let me see it.Was that poor flesh so passing fair, beyondAll women's loveliness ?Was I some fondFalse plotter, that I schemed to win through herThy castle's heirdom? Fond indeed I were!Nay, a stark madman! "But a crown," thou sayst,"Usurped, is sweet." Nay, rather most unblestTo all wise-hearted; sweet to fools and them[348]Whose eyes are blinded by the diadem.In contests of all valour fain would ILead Hellas; but in rank and majestyNot lead, but be at ease, with good men nearTo love me, free to work and not to fear.That brings more joy than any crown or throne.[He sees from the demeanour of THESEUS and ofthe crowd that his words are not winning them,but rather making them bitterer than before. Itcomes to his lips to spea\ the whole truth.I have said my say; save one thing . . . one alone.O had I here some witness in my need,As I was witness! Could she hear me plead,Face me and face the sunlight; well I know,Our deeds would search us out for thee, and showWho lies!But now, I swear—so hear me both,The Earth beneath and Zeus who Guards the Oath—I never touched this woman that was thine!No words could win me to it, nor inclineMy heart to dream it. May God strike me down,Nameless and fameless, without home or town,An outcast and a wanderer of the world;May my dead bones rest never, but be hurledFrom sea to land, from land to angry sea,If evil is my heart and false to thee![He waits a moment; but sees that his Father isunmoved. The truth again comes to his lips.If 'twas some fear that made her cast awayHer life . . . I know not. More I must not say.Right hath she done when in her was no right;And Right I follow to mine own despite!
Leader
Theseus
¶Is not the man a juggler and a mage,Cool wits and one right oath—what more?—to assuageSin and the wrath of injured fatherhood!
Hippolytus
¶Am Is o cool? Nay, Father, 'tis thy moodThat makes me marvel! By my faith, wert thouThe son, and I the sire; and deemed I nowIn very truth thou hadst my wife assailed,I had not exiled thee, nor stood and railed,But lifted once mine arm, and struck thee dead!
Theseus
¶Thou gentle judge! Thou shalt not so be spedTo simple death, nor by thine own decree.Swift death is bliss to men in misery.Far off, friendless for ever, thou shalt drainAmid strange cities the last dregs of pain!
Hippolytus
Theseus
Hippolytus
Theseus
¶This tablet here, that needs no prophet's lotTo speak from, tells me all. T ponder notThy fowls that fly above us! Let them fly.
Hippolytus
¶O ye great Gods, wherefore unlock not IMy lips, ere yet ye have slain me utterly,Ye whom I love most? No. It may not be!The one heart that I need I ne'er should gainTo trust me. I should break mine oath in vain.
Theseus
Hippolytus
Theseus
Hippolytus
Theseus
Hippolytus
Theseus
Hippolytus
Theseus
Hippolytus
Theseus (in a sudden blaze of rage)
¶Up, thralls, and drag him from my presence! What?'Tis but a foreign felon! Heard ye not?[The thralls still hesitate in spite of his fury,
Hippolytus
Theseus
¶That will I straight, unless my will be done![ HIPPOLYTUS comes close to him and kneels.Nay! Not for thee my pity! Get thee gone![ HIPPOLYTUS rises, makes a sign of submission,and slowly moves away. THESEUS , as soon ashe sees him going, turns rapidly and entersthe Castle. The door is closed again. HIP POLYTUS has stopped for a moment before theStatue of ARTEMIS , and, as THESEUS departs,
breaks out in prayer.Hippolytus
¶So; it is done! O dark and miserable!I see it all, but see not how to tell[352]The tale.—O thou beloved, Leto's Maid,Chase-comrade, fellow-rester in the glade,Lo, I am driven with a caitiff s brandForth from great Athens! Fare ye well, O landAnd city of old Erechtheus! Thou, Trozen,What riches of glad youth mine eyes have seenIn thy broad plain! Farewell! This is the end;The last word, the last look!Come, every friendAnd fellow of my youth that still may stay,Give me god-speed and cheer me on my way.Ne'er shall ye see a man more pure of spotThan me, though mine own Father loves me not![ HIPPOLYTUS goes away to the right, followed bymany Huntsmen and other young men. Therest of the crowd has by this time dispersed,except the Women of the Chorus and someMen of the Chorus of Huntsmen.
ChorusMen
¶Surely the thought of the Gods hath balm in it alway, to winmeFar from my griefs; and a thought, deep in the dark of mymind,Clings to a great Understanding. Yet all the spirit within meFaints, when I watch men's deeds matched with the guerdon theyfind.For Good comes in Evil's traces,And the Evil the Good replaces;And Life, 'mid the changing faces,Wandereth weak and blind.
Women
¶What wilt thou grant me, O God? Lo, this is the prayer of my
¶travail—
¶Some well-being; and chance not very bitter thereby;
p. 353¶A Spirit uncrippled by pain; and a mind not deep to unravelTruth unseen, nor yet dark with the brand of a lie.With a veering mood to borrowIts light from every morrow,Fair friends and no deep sorrow,Well could man live and die!
Men
¶Yet my spirit is no more clean,And the weft of my hope is torn,For the deed of wrong that mine eyes have seen,The lie and the rage and the scorn;A Star among men, yea, a StarThat in Hellas was bright,By a Father's wrath driven farTo the wilds and the night.Oh, alas for the sands of the shore!Alas for the brakes of the hill,Where the wolves shall fear thee no more,And thy cry to Dictynna is still!
Women
¶No more in the yoke of thy carShall the colts of Enetia fleet;Nor Limna's echoes quiver afarTo the clatter of galloping feet.The sleepless music of old,That leaped in the lyre,Ceaseth now, and is cold,In the halls of thy sire.The bowers are discrowned and unladenWhere Artemis lay on the lea;And the love-dream of many a maidenLost, in the losing of thee.
A Maiden
¶And I, even I,For thv fall, O Friend.[354]Amid tears and tears,Endure to the endOf the empty years,Of a life run dry.In vain didst thou bear him,Thou Mother forlorn!Ye Gods that did snare him,Lo, I cast in your facesMy hate and my scorn!Ye love-linked Graces,(Alas for the day!)Was he naught, then, to you,That ye cast him away,The stainless and true,From the old happy places ?
Leader
¶Look yonder! 'Tis the Prince's man, I ween,Speeding toward this gate, most dark of mien.[A HENCHMAN enters in haste.
Henchman
Leader
Henchman
¶O King, I bear thee tidings of dire weightTo thee, aye, and to every man, I ween,From Athens to the marches of Trozen.
Theseus
Henchman
Theseus (as though unmoved)
Henchman
¶His own wild team destroyed him, and the direCurse of thy lips.The boon of thy great SireIs granted thee, O King, and thy son slain.
Theseus
¶Ye Gods! And thou, Poseidon! Not in vainI called thee Father; thou hast heard my prayer!How did he die ? Speak on. How closed the snareOf Heaven to slay the shamer of my blood ?
Henchman
¶'Twas by the bank of beating sea we stood,We thralls, and decked the steeds, and combed eachmane;Weeping; for word had come that ne'er againThe foot of our Hippolytus should roamThis land, but waste in exile by thy doom.So stood we till he came, and in his toneNo music now save sorrow's, like our own,And in his train a concourse without endOf many a chase-fellow and many a friend.At last he brushed his sobs away, and spake:"Why this fond loitering? I would not breakMy Father's law.—Ho, there! My coursers fourAnd chariot, quick! This land is mine no more."[356]Thereat, be sure, each man of us made speed.Swifter than speech we brought them up, each steedWell dight and shining, at our Prince's side.He grasped the reins upon the rail: one strideAnd there he stood, a perfect charioteer,Each foot in its own station set. Then clearHis voice rose, and his arms to heaven were spread:" O Zeus, if I be false, strike thou me dead!But, dead or living, let my Father seeOne day, how falsely he hath hated me!"Even as he spake, he lifted up the goadAnd smote; and the steeds sprang. And down the roadWe henchmen followed, hard beside the rein,Each hand, to speed him, toward the Argive plainAnd Epidaurus.So we made our wayUp toward the desert region, where the bayCurls to a promontory near the vergeOf our Trozen, facing the southward surgeOf Saron's gulf. Just there an angry sound,Slow-swelling, like God's thunder underground,Broke on us, and we trembled. And the steedsPricked their ears skyward, and threw back their heads.And wonder came on all men, and affright,Whence rose that awful voice. And swift our sightTurned seaward, down the salt and roaring sand.And there, above the horizon, seemed to standA wave unearthly, crested in the sky;Till Skiron's Cape first vanished from mine eye,Then sank the Isthmus hidden, then the rockOf Epidaurus. Then it broke, one shockAnd roar of gasping sea and spray flung far,And shoreward swept, where stood the Prince's car.Three lines of wave together raced, and, fullIn the white crest of them, a wild Sea-BullFlung to the shore, a fell and marvellous Thing.The whole land held his voice, and answering[357]Roared in each echo. And all we, gazing there,Gazed seeing not; 'twas more than eyes could bear.Then straight upon the team wild terror fell.Howbeit, the Prince, cool-eyed and knowing wellEach changing mood a horse has, gripped the reinsHard in both hands; then as an oarsman strainsUp from his bench, so strained he on the thong,Back in the chariot swinging. But the youngWild steeds bit hard the curb, and fled afar;Nor rein nor guiding hand nor morticed carStayed them at all. For when he veered them round,And aimed their flying feet to grassy ground,In front uprose that Thing, and turned againThe four great coursers, terror-mad. But whenTheir blind rage drove them toward the rocky places,Silent, and ever nearer to the traces,It followed, rockward, till one wheel-edge grazed.The chariot tript and flew, and all was mazedIn turmoil. Up went wheel-box with a din,Where the rock jagged, and nave and axle-pin.And there—the long reins round him—there was heDragging, entangled irretrievably.A dear head battering at the chariot side,Sharp rocks, and ripped flesh, and a voice that cried:"Stay, stay, O ye who fattened at my stalls,Dash me not into nothing!—O thou falseCurse of my Father!—Help! Help, whoso can,An innocent, innocent and stainless man!"Many there were that laboured then, I wot,To bear him succour, but could reach him not,Till—who knows how?—at last the tangled reinUnclasped him, and he fell, some little veinOf life still pulsing in him.All beside,The steeds, the horned Horror of the Tide,Had vanished—who knows where?—in that wild land.O King, I am a bondsman of thine hand;[358]Yet love nor fear nor duty me shall winTo say thine innocent son hath died in sin.All women born may hang themselves, for me,And swing their dying words from every treeOn Ida! For I know that he was true!
Leader
Theseus
¶Hate of the man thus stricken lifted meAt first to joy at hearing of thy tale;But now, some shame before the Gods, some palePity for mine own blood, hath o'er me come.I laugh not, neither weep, at this fell doom.
Henchman
¶How then ? Behoves it bear him here, or howBest do thy pleasure?—Speak, Lord. Yet if thouWilt mark at all my word, thou wilt not beFierce-hearted to thy child in misery.
Theseus
¶Aye, bring him hither. Let me see the face
¶Of him who durst deny my deep disgrace
¶And his own sin; yea, speak with him, and prove
¶His clear guilt by God's judgments from above.
¶[The HENCHMAN departs to fetch HIPPOLYTUS ; THESEUS sits waiting in stern gloom, while the CHORUS sing. At the close of their song a Divine Figure is seen approaching on a cloud in the air and the voice of ARTEMIS spea\s.
Chorus
¶Thou comest to bend the prideOf the hearts of God and man,[359]Cypris; and by thy side,In earth-encircling span,He of the changing plumes,The Wing that the world illumes,As over the leagues of land flies he,Over the salt and sounding sea.
¶For mad is the heart of Love,And gold the gleam of his wing;And all to the spell thereofBend, when he makes his spring;All life that is wild and youngIn mountain and wave and stream,All that of earth is sprung,Or breathes in the red sunbeam;Yea, and Mankind. O'er all a royal throne,Cyprian, Cyprian, is thine alone!
¶A Voice from the Cloud
¶0 thou that rulest in jEgeus' Hall,I charge thee, hearken!Yea, it is I,Artemis, Virgin of God most High.Thou bitter King, art thou glad withalFor thy murdered son?For thine ear bent low to a lying Queen,For thine heart so swift amid things unseen ?Lo, all may see what end thou hast won!Go, sink thine head in the waste abyss;Or aloft to another world than this,Birdwise with wings,Fly far to thine hiding,Far over this blood that clots and clings;For in righteous men and in holy thingsNo rest is thine nor abiding![The cloud has become stationary in the air.[360]Hear, Theseus, all the story of thy grief!Verily, I bring but anguish, not relief;Yet, 'twas for this I came, to show how highAnd clean was thy son's heart, that he may dieHonoured of men; aye, and to tell no lessThe frenzy, or in some sort the nobleness,Of thy dead wife. One Spirit there is, whom weThat know the joy of white virginity,Most hate in heaven. She sent her fire to runIn Phaedra's veins, so that she loved thy son.Yet strove she long with love, and in the stressFell not, till by her Nurse's craftinessBetrayed, who stole, with oaths of secrecy,To entreat thy son. And he, most righteously,Nor did her will, nor, when thy railing scornBeat on him, broke the oath that he had sworn,For God's sake. And thy Phaedra, panic-eyed,Wrote a false writ, and slew thy son, and died,Lying; but thou wast nimble to believe![ THESEUS , at first bewildered, then dumbfoundered,now utters a deep groan.It stings thee, Theseus?—Nay, hear on, and grieveYet sorer. Wottest thou three prayers were thineOf sure fulfilment, from thy Sire divine?Hast thou no foes about thee, then, that one—Thou vile King!—must be turned against thy son?The deed was thine. Thy Sea-born Sire but heardThe call of prayer, and bowed him to his word.But thou in his eyes and in mine art foundEvil, who wouldst not think, nor probe, nor soundThe deeps of prophet's lore, nor day by dayLeave Time to search; but, swifter than man may,Let loose the curse to slay thine innocent son!
Theseus
¶O Goddess, let me die!
Artemis
¶Nay; thou hast doneA heavy wrong; yet even beyond this illAbides for thee forgiveness. 'Twas the willOf Cypris that these evil things should be,Sating her wrath. And this immutablyHath Zeus ordained in heaven: no God may thwartA God's fixed will; we grieve but stand apart.Else, but for fear of the Great Father's blame,Never had I to such extreme of shameBowed me, be sure, as here to stand and seeSlain him I loved best of mortality!Thy fault, O King, its ignorance sunders wideFrom very wickedness; and she who diedBy death the more disarmed thee, making dumbThe voice of question. And the storm has comeMost bitterly of all on thee! Yet IHave mine own sorrow, too. When good men die,There is no joy in heaven, albeit our ireOn child and house of the evil falls like fire.[A throng is seen approaching; HIPPOLYTUS enters,supported by his attendants.
Chorus
¶Lo, it is he! The bright young headYet upright there!Ah, the torn flesh and the blood-stained hair;Alas for the kindred's trouble!It falls as fire from a God's hand sped,Two deaths, and mourning double.
Hippolytus
¶Ah , pain, pain, pain!O unrighteous curse! O unrighteous sire!No hope.—My head is stabbed with fire,And a leaping spasm about my brain.[362]Stay, let me rest. I can no more.O fell, fell steeds that my own hand fed,Have ye maimed me and slain, that loved me of yore?—Soft there, ye thralls! No trembling handsAs ye lift me, now!—Who is that that standsAt the right?—Now firm, and with measured tread,Lift one accursed and stricken soreBy a father's sinning.
¶Thou, Zeus, dost see me? Yea, it is I;The proud and pure, the server of God,The white and shining in sanctity!To a visible death, to an open sod,I walk my ways;And all the labour of saintly daysLost, lost, without meaning!
¶Ah God, it crawls,This agony, over me!Let be, ye thralls!Come, Death, and cover me;Come, O thou Healer blest!
¶But a little more,And my soul is clear,And the anguish o'er!Oh, a spear, a spear!To rend my soul to its rest!
¶Oh, strange, false Curse! Was there some blood-stainedhead,Some father of my line, unpunished,Whose guilt lived in his kin,And passed, and slept, till after this long dayIt lights . . . oh, why on me? Me, far awayAnd innocent of sin?[363]O words that cannot save!When will this breathing end in that last deepPain that is painlessness? 'Tis sleep I crave.When wilt thou bring me sleep,Thou dark and midnight magic of the grave!
Artemis
Hippolytus
¶Ah!O breath of heavenly fragrance! Though my painBurns, I can feel thee and find rest again.The Goddess Artemis is with me here.
Artemis
¶With thee and loving thee, poor sufferer!
Hippolytus
¶Dost see me, Mistress, nearing my last sleep?
Artemis
¶Aye, and would weep for thee, if Gods could weep.
Hippolytus
¶Who now shall hunt with thee or hold thy quiver?
Artemis
¶He dies; but my love cleaves to him for ever.
Hippolytus
¶Who guide thy chariot, keep thy shrine-flowers fresh ?
Artemis
¶The accursed Cyprian caught him in her mesh!
Hippolytus
¶The Cyprian? Now I see it!—Aye, 'twas she.
Artemis
¶She missed her worship, loathed thy chastity!
Hippolytus
¶Three lives by her one hand! 'Tis all clear now.
Artemis
¶Yea, three; thy father and his Queen and thou.
Hippolytus
¶My father; yea, he too is pitiable!
Artemis
¶A plotting Goddess tripped him, and he fell.
Hippolytus
¶Father, where art thou ? . . . Oh, thou sufferest sore!
Theseus
¶Even unto death, Child. There is joy no more.
Hippolytus
¶I pity thee in this coil; aye, more than me.
Theseus
¶Would I could lie there dead instead of thee!
Hippolytus
¶Oh, bitter bounty of Poseidon's love!
Theseus
¶Would God my lips had never breathed thereof!
Hippolytus (gently)
¶Nay, thine own rage had slain me then, some wise!
Theseus
¶A lying spirit had made blind mine eyes!
Hippolytus
Artemis
¶Let be! For not, though deep beneath the sodThou liest, not unrequited nor unsungShall this fell stroke, from Cypris' rancour sprung,Quell thee, mine own, the saintly and the true!My hand shall win its vengeance, through and throughPiercing with flawless shaft what heart soe'erOf all men living is most dear to Her.Yea, and to thee, for this sore travail's sake,Honours most high in Trozen will I make;For yokeless maids before their bridal nightShall shear for thee their tresses; and a riteOf honouring tears be thine in ceaseless store;And virgins' thoughts in music evermoreTurn toward thee, and praise thee in the songOf Phxdra's far-famed love and thy great wrong.O seed of ancient .rEgeus, bend thee nowAnd clasp thy son. Aye, hold and fear not thou!Not knowingly hast thou slain him; and man's way,When Gods send error, needs must fall astray.And thou, Hippolytus, shrink not from the King,Thy father. Thou wast born to bear this thing.Farewell! I may not watch man's fleeting breath,Nor stain mine eyes with the effluence of death.And sure that Terror now is very near.[The cloud slowly rises and floats away.
Hippolytus
¶Farewell, farewell, most Blessed! Lift thee clearOf soiling men! Thou wilt not grieve in heavenFor my long love! . . . Father, thou art forgiven.It was Her will. I am not wroth with thee. . . .I have obeyed Her all my days! . . .Ah me,The dark is drawing down upon mine eyes;It hath me! . . . Father! . . . Hold me! Help me rise!
Theseus (supporting him in his arms)
¶Ah , woe! How dost thou torture me, my son!
Hippolytus
¶I see the Great Gates opening. I am gone.
Theseus
¶Gone? And my hand red-reeking from this thing!
Hippolytus
¶Nay, nay; thou art assoiled of manslaying.
Theseus
¶Thou leav'st me clear of murder? Sayst thou so?
Hippolytus
¶Yea, by the Virgin of the Stainless Bow!
Theseus
¶Dear Son! Ah , now I see thy nobleness!
Hippolytus
¶Pray that a true-born child may fill my place.
Theseus
¶Ah me, thy righteous and god-fearing heart!
Hippolytus
¶Farewell;A long farewell, dear Father, ere we part![ THESEUS bends down and embraces him passionately.
Theseus
¶Not yet!—O hope and bear while thou hast breath!
Hippolytus
¶Lo, I have borne my burden. This is death. . . .Quick, Father; lay the mantle on my face.[ THESEUS covers his face with a mantle and rises.
Theseus
¶Ye bounds of Pallas and of Pelops' race,What greatness have ye lost!Woe, woe is me!Thou Cyprian, long shall I remember thee!
Chorus
¶On all this folk, both low and high,A grief hath fallen beyond men's fears.There cometh a throbbing of many tears,A sound as of waters falling.For when great men die,A mighty name and a bitter cryRise up from a nation calling.[They move into the Castle, carrying
¶the body of HIPPOLYTUS .