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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/1977-h.zip b/1977-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c84ca7f --- /dev/null +++ b/1977-h.zip diff --git a/1977-h/1977-h.htm b/1977-h/1977-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cd7f4a7 --- /dev/null +++ b/1977-h/1977-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3008 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="us-ascii"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Phaedra, by Jean Baptiste Racine + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Phaedra, by Jean Baptiste Racine + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Phaedra + +Author: Jean Baptiste Racine + +Translator: Robert Bruce Boswell + +Release Date: October 30, 2008 [EBook #1977] +Last Updated: February 7, 2013 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PHAEDRA *** + + + + +Produced by Dagny, John Bickers, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + PHAEDRA + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Jean Baptiste Racine + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + Translated by Robert Bruce Boswell + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + Contents + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> INTRODUCTORY NOTE </a> + </p> + <br /> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> <b>PHAEDRA</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkone"> ACT I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> ACT II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> ACT III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> ACT IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> ACT V </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + INTRODUCTORY NOTE + </h2> + <p> + JEAN BAPTISTE RACINE, the younger contemporary of Corneille, and his rival + for supremacy in French classical tragedy, was born at Ferte-Milon, + December 21, 1639. He was educated at the College of Beauvais, at the + great Jansenist school at Port Royal, and at the College d'Harcourt. He + attracted notice by an ode written for the marriage of Louis XIV in 1660, + and made his first really great dramatic success with his "Andromaque." + His tragic masterpieces include "Britannicus," "Berenice," "Bajazet," + "Mithridate," "Iphigenie," and "Phaedre," all written between 1669 and + 1677. Then for some years he gave up dramatic composition, disgusted by + the intrigues of enemies who sought to injure his career by exalting above + him an unworthy rival. In 1689 he resumed his work under the persuasion of + Mme. de Maintenon, and produced "Esther" and "Athalie," the latter ranking + among his finest productions, although it did not receive public + recognition until some time after his death in 1699. Besides his + tragedies, Racine wrote one comedy, "Les Plaideurs," four hymns of great + beauty, and a history of Port Royal. + </p> + <p> + The external conventions of classical tragedy which had been established + by Corneille, Racine did not attempt to modify. His study of the Greek + tragedians and his own taste led him to submit willingly to the rigor and + simplicity of form which were the fundamental marks of the classical + ideal. It was in his treatment of character that he differed most from his + predecessor; for whereas, as we have seen, Corneille represented his + leading figures as heroically subduing passion by force of will, Racine + represents his as driven by almost uncontrollable passion. Thus his + creations appeal to the modern reader as more warmly human; their speech, + if less exalted, is simpler and more natural; and he succeeds more + brilliantly with his portraits of women than with those of men. + </p> + <p> + All these characteristics are exemplified in "Phaedre," the tragedy of + Racine which has made an appeal to the widest audience. To the legend as + treated by Euripides, Racine added the love of Hippolytus for Aricia, and + thus supplied a motive for Phaedra's jealousy, and at the same time he + made the nurse instead of Phaedra the calumniator of his son to Theseus. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + PHAEDRA + </h1> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +CHARACTERS + + THESEUS, son of Aegeus and King of Athens. + PHAEDRA, wife of Theseus and Daughter of Minos and Pasiphae. + HIPPOLYTUS, son of Theseus and Antiope, Queen of the Amazons. + ARICIA, Princess of the Blood Royal of Athens. + OENONE, nurse of Phaedra. + THERAMENES, tutor of Hippolytus. + ISMENE, bosom friend of Aricia. + PANOPE, waiting-woman of Phaedra. + GUARDS. +</pre> + <p> + The scene is laid at Troezen, a town of the Peloponnesus. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="linkone" id="linkone"></a> + </p> + <h2> + ACT I + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SCENE I + HIPPOLYTUS, THERAMENES +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + HIPPOLYTUS + My mind is settled, dear Theramenes, + And I can stay no more in lovely Troezen. + In doubt that racks my soul with mortal anguish, + I grow ashamed of such long idleness. + Six months and more my father has been gone, + And what may have befallen one so dear + I know not, nor what corner of the earth + Hides him. + + THERAMENES + And where, prince, will you look for him? + Already, to content your just alarm, + Have I not cross'd the seas on either side + Of Corinth, ask'd if aught were known of Theseus + Where Acheron is lost among the Shades, + Visited Elis, doubled Toenarus, + And sail'd into the sea that saw the fall + Of Icarus? Inspired with what new hope, + Under what favour'd skies think you to trace + His footsteps? Who knows if the King, your father, + Wishes the secret of his absence known? + Perchance, while we are trembling for his life, + The hero calmly plots some fresh intrigue, + And only waits till the deluded fair— + + HIPPOLYTUS + Cease, dear Theramenes, respect the name + Of Theseus. Youthful errors have been left + Behind, and no unworthy obstacle + Detains him. Phaedra long has fix'd a heart + Inconstant once, nor need she fear a rival. + In seeking him I shall but do my duty, + And leave a place I dare no longer see. + + THERAMENES + Indeed! When, prince, did you begin to dread + These peaceful haunts, so dear to happy childhood, + Where I have seen you oft prefer to stay, + Rather than meet the tumult and the pomp + Of Athens and the court? What danger shun you, + Or shall I say what grief? + + HIPPOLYTUS + That happy time + Is gone, and all is changed, since to these shores + The gods sent Phaedra. + + THERAMENES + I perceive the cause + Of your distress. It is the queen whose sight + Offends you. With a step-dame's spite she schemed + Your exile soon as she set eyes on you. + But if her hatred is not wholly vanish'd, + It has at least taken a milder aspect. + Besides, what danger can a dying woman, + One too who longs for death, bring on your head? + Can Phaedra, sick'ning of a dire disease + Of which she will not speak, weary of life + And of herself, form any plots against you? + + HIPPOLYTUS + It is not her vain enmity I fear, + Another foe alarms Hippolytus. + I fly, it must be own'd, from young Aricia, + The sole survivor of an impious race. + + THERAMENES + What! You become her persecutor too! + The gentle sister of the cruel sons + Of Pallas shared not in their perfidy; + Why should you hate such charming innocence? + + HIPPOLYTUS + I should not need to fly, if it were hatred. + + THERAMENES + May I, then, learn the meaning of your flight? + Is this the proud Hippolytus I see, + Than whom there breathed no fiercer foe to love + And to that yoke which Theseus has so oft + Endured? And can it be that Venus, scorn'd + So long, will justify your sire at last? + Has she, then, setting you with other mortals, + Forced e'en Hippolytus to offer incense + Before her? Can you love? + + HIPPOLYTUS + Friend, ask me not. + You, who have known my heart from infancy + And all its feelings of disdainful pride, + Spare me the shame of disavowing all + That I profess'd. Born of an Amazon, + The wildness that you wonder at I suck'd + With mother's milk. When come to riper age, + Reason approved what Nature had implanted. + Sincerely bound to me by zealous service, + You told me then the story of my sire, + And know how oft, attentive to your voice, + I kindled when I heard his noble acts, + As you described him bringing consolation + To mortals for the absence of Alcides, + The highways clear'd of monsters and of robbers, + Procrustes, Cercyon, Sciro, Sinnis slain, + The Epidaurian giant's bones dispersed, + Crete reeking with the blood of Minotaur. + But when you told me of less glorious deeds, + Troth plighted here and there and everywhere, + Young Helen stolen from her home at Sparta, + And Periboea's tears in Salamis, + With many another trusting heart deceived + Whose very names have 'scaped his memory, + Forsaken Ariadne to the rocks + Complaining, last this Phaedra, bound to him + By better ties,—you know with what regret + I heard and urged you to cut short the tale, + Happy had I been able to erase + From my remembrance that unworthy part + Of such a splendid record. I, in turn, + Am I too made the slave of love, and brought + To stoop so low? The more contemptible + That no renown is mine such as exalts + The name of Theseus, that no monsters quell'd + Have given me a right to share his weakness. + And if my pride of heart must needs be humbled, + Aricia should have been the last to tame it. + Was I beside myself to have forgotten + Eternal barriers of separation + Between us? By my father's stern command + Her brethren's blood must ne'er be reinforced + By sons of hers; he dreads a single shoot + From stock so guilty, and would fain with her + Bury their name, that, even to the tomb + Content to be his ward, for her no torch + Of Hymen may be lit. Shall I espouse + Her rights against my sire, rashly provoke + His wrath, and launch upon a mad career— + + THERAMENES + The gods, dear prince, if once your hour is come, + Care little for the reasons that should guide us. + Wishing to shut your eyes, Theseus unseals them; + His hatred, stirring a rebellious flame + Within you, lends his enemy new charms. + And, after all, why should a guiltless passion + Alarm you? Dare you not essay its sweetness, + But follow rather a fastidious scruple? + Fear you to stray where Hercules has wander'd? + What heart so stout that Venus has not vanquish'd? + Where would you be yourself, so long her foe, + Had your own mother, constant in her scorn + Of love, ne'er glowed with tenderness for Theseus? + What boots it to affect a pride you feel not? + Confess it, all is changed; for some time past + You have been seldom seen with wild delight + Urging the rapid car along the strand, + Or, skilful in the art that Neptune taught, + Making th' unbroken steed obey the bit; + Less often have the woods return'd our shouts; + A secret burden on your spirits cast + Has dimm'd your eye. How can I doubt you love? + Vainly would you conceal the fatal wound. + Has not the fair Aricia touch'd your heart? + + HIPPOLYTUS + Theramenes, I go to find my father. + + THERAMENES + Will you not see the queen before you start, + My prince? + + HIPPOLYTUS + That is my purpose: you can tell her. + Yes, I will see her; duty bids me do it. + But what new ill vexes her dear Oenone? +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SCENE II + HIPPOLYTUS, OENONE, THERAMENES +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + OENONE + Alas, my lord, what grief was e'er like mine? + The queen has almost touch'd the gates of death. + Vainly close watch I keep by day and night, + E'en in my arms a secret malady + Slays her, and all her senses are disorder'd. + Weary yet restless from her couch she rises, + Pants for the outer air, but bids me see + That no one on her misery intrudes. + She comes. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Enough. She shall not be disturb'd, + Nor be confronted with a face she hates. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SCENE III + PHAEDRA, OENONE +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + PHAEDRA + We have gone far enough. Stay, dear Oenone; + Strength fails me, and I needs must rest awhile. + My eyes are dazzled with this glaring light + So long unseen, my trembling knees refuse + Support. Ah me! + + OENONE + Would Heaven that our tears + Might bring relief! + + PHAEDRA + Ah, how these cumbrous gauds, + These veils oppress me! What officious hand + Has tied these knots, and gather'd o'er my brow + These clustering coils? How all conspires to add + To my distress! + + OENONE + What is one moment wish'd, + The next, is irksome. Did you not just now, + Sick of inaction, bid us deck you out, + And, with your former energy recall'd, + Desire to go abroad, and see the light + Of day once more? You see it, and would fain + Be hidden from the sunshine that you sought. + + PHAEDRA + Thou glorious author of a hapless race, + Whose daughter 'twas my mother's boast to be, + Who well may'st blush to see me in such plight, + For the last time I come to look on thee, + O Sun! + + OENONE + What! Still are you in love with death? + Shall I ne'er see you, reconciled to life, + Forego these cruel accents of despair? + + PHAEDRA + Would I were seated in the forest's shade! + When may I follow with delighted eye, + Thro' glorious dust flying in full career, + A chariot— + + OENONE + Madam? + + PHAEDRA + Have I lost my senses? + What said I? and where am I? Whither stray + Vain wishes? Ah! The gods have made me mad. + I blush, Oenone, and confusion covers + My face, for I have let you see too clearly + The shame of grief that, in my own despite, + O'erflows these eyes of mine. + + OENONE + If you must blush, + Blush at a silence that inflames your woes. + Resisting all my care, deaf to my voice, + Will you have no compassion on yourself, + But let your life be ended in mid course? + What evil spell has drain'd its fountain dry? + Thrice have the shades of night obscured the heav'ns + Since sleep has enter'd thro' your eyes, and thrice + The dawn has chased the darkness thence, since food + Pass'd your wan lips, and you are faint and languid. + To what dread purpose is your heart inclined? + How dare you make attempts upon your life, + And so offend the gods who gave it you, + Prove false to Theseus and your marriage vows, + Ay, and betray your most unhappy children, + Bending their necks yourself beneath the yoke? + That day, be sure, which robs them of their mother, + Will give high hopes back to the stranger's son, + To that proud enemy of you and yours, + To whom an Amazon gave birth, I mean + Hippolytus— + + PHAEDRA + Ye gods! + + OENONE + Ah, this reproach + Moves you! + + PHAEDRA + Unhappy woman, to what name + Gave your mouth utterance? + + OENONE + Your wrath is just. + 'Tis well that that ill-omen'd name can rouse + Such rage. Then live. Let love and duty urge + Their claims. Live, suffer not this son of Scythia, + Crushing your children 'neath his odious sway, + To rule the noble offspring of the gods, + The purest blood of Greece. Make no delay; + Each moment threatens death; quickly restore + Your shatter'd strength, while yet the torch of life + Holds out, and can be fann'd into a flame. + + PHAEDRA + Too long have I endured its guilt and shame! + + OENONE + Why? What remorse gnaws at your heart? What crime + Can have disturb'd you thus? Your hands are not + Polluted with the blood of innocence? + + PHAEDRA + Thanks be to Heav'n, my hands are free from stain. + Would that my soul were innocent as they! + + OENONE + What awful project have you then conceived, + Whereat your conscience should be still alarm'd? + + PHAEDRA + Have I not said enough? Spare me the rest. + I die to save myself a full confession. + + OENONE + Die then, and keep a silence so inhuman; + But seek some other hand to close your eyes. + Tho' but a spark of life remains within you, + My soul shall go before you to the Shades. + A thousand roads are always open thither; + Pain'd at your want of confidence, I'll choose + The shortest. Cruel one, when has my faith + Deceived you! Think how in my arms you lay + New born. For you, my country and my children + I have forsaken. Do you thus repay + My faithful service? + + PHAEDRA + What do you expect + From words so bitter? Were I to break silence + Horror would freeze your blood. + + OENONE + What can you say + To horrify me more than to behold + You die before my eyes? + + PHAEDRA + When you shall know + My crime, my death will follow none the less, + But with the added stain of guilt. + + OENONE + Dear Madam, + By all the tears that I have shed for you, + By these weak knees I clasp, relieve my mind + From torturing doubt. + + PHAEDRA + It is your wish. Then rise. + + OENONE + I hear you. Speak. + + PHAEDRA + Heav'ns! How shall I begin? + + OENONE + Dismiss vain fears, you wound me with distrust. + + PHAEDRA + O fatal animosity of Venus! + Into what wild distractions did she cast + My mother! + + OENONE + Be they blotted from remembrance, + And for all time to come buried in silence. + + PHAEDRA + My sister Ariadne, by what love + Were you betray'd to death, on lonely shores + Forsaken! + + OENONE + Madam, what deep-seated pain + Prompts these reproaches against all your kin? + + PHAEDRA + It is the will of Venus, and I perish, + Last, most unhappy of a family + Where all were wretched. + + OENONE + Do you love? + + PHAEDRA + I feel + All its mad fever. + + OENONE + Ah! For whom? + + PHAEDRA + Hear now + The crowning horror. Yes, I love—my lips + Tremble to say his name. + + OENONE + Whom? + + PHAEDRA + Know you him, + Son of the Amazon, whom I've oppress'd + So long? + + OENONE + Hippolytus? Great gods! + + PHAEDRA + 'Tis you + Have named him. + + OENONE + All my blood within my veins + Seems frozen. O despair! O cursed race! + Ill-omen'd journey! Land of misery! + Why did we ever reach thy dangerous shores? + + PHAEDRA + My wound is not so recent. Scarcely had I + Been bound to Theseus by the marriage yoke, + And happiness and peace seem'd well secured, + When Athens show'd me my proud enemy. + I look'd, alternately turn'd pale and blush'd + To see him, and my soul grew all distraught; + A mist obscured my vision, and my voice + Falter'd, my blood ran cold, then burn'd like fire; + Venus I felt in all my fever'd frame, + Whose fury had so many of my race + Pursued. With fervent vows I sought to shun + Her torments, built and deck'd for her a shrine, + And there, 'mid countless victims did I seek + The reason I had lost; but all for naught, + No remedy could cure the wounds of love! + In vain I offer'd incense on her altars; + When I invoked her name my heart adored + Hippolytus, before me constantly; + And when I made her altars smoke with victims, + 'Twas for a god whose name I dared not utter. + I fled his presence everywhere, but found him— + O crowning horror!—in his father's features. + Against myself, at last, I raised revolt, + And stirr'd my courage up to persecute + The enemy I loved. To banish him + I wore a step—dame's harsh and jealous carriage, + With ceaseless cries I clamour'd for his exile, + Till I had torn him from his father's arms. + I breathed once more, Oenone; in his absence + My days flow'd on less troubled than before, + And innocent. Submissive to my husband, + I hid my grief, and of our fatal marriage + Cherish'd the fruits. Vain caution! Cruel Fate! + Brought hither by my spouse himself, I saw + Again the enemy whom I had banish'd, + And the old wound too quickly bled afresh. + No longer is it love hid in my heart, + But Venus in her might seizing her prey. + I have conceived just terror for my crime; + I hate my life, and hold my love in horror. + Dying I wish'd to keep my fame unsullied, + And bury in the grave a guilty passion; + But I have been unable to withstand + Tears and entreaties, I have told you all; + Content, if only, as my end draws near, + You do not vex me with unjust reproaches, + Nor with vain efforts seek to snatch from death + The last faint lingering sparks of vital breath. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SCENE IV + PHAEDRA, OENONE, PANOPE +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + PANOPE + Fain would I hide from you tidings so sad, + But 'tis my duty, Madam, to reveal them. + The hand of death has seized your peerless husband, + And you are last to hear of this disaster. + + OENONE + What say you, Panope? + + PANOPE + The queen, deceived + By a vain trust in Heav'n, begs safe return + For Theseus, while Hippolytus his son + Learns of his death from vessels that are now + In port. + + PHAEDRA + Ye gods! + + PANOPE + Divided counsels sway + The choice of Athens; some would have the prince, + Your child, for master; others, disregarding + The laws, dare to support the stranger's son. + 'Tis even said that a presumptuous faction + Would crown Aricia and the house of Pallas. + I deem'd it right to warn you of this danger. + Hippolytus already is prepared + To start, and should he show himself at Athens, + 'Tis to be fear'd the fickle crowd will all + Follow his lead. + + OENONE + Enough. The queen, who hears you, + By no means will neglect this timely warning. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SCENE V + PHAEDRA, OENONE +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + OENONE + Dear lady, I had almost ceased to urge + The wish that you should live, thinking to follow + My mistress to the tomb, from which my voice + Had fail'd to turn you; but this new misfortune + Alters the aspect of affairs, and prompts + Fresh measures. Madam, Theseus is no more, + You must supply his place. He leaves a son, + A slave, if you should die, but, if you live, + A King. On whom has he to lean but you? + No hand but yours will dry his tears. Then live + For him, or else the tears of innocence + Will move the gods, his ancestors, to wrath + Against his mother. Live, your guilt is gone, + No blame attaches to your passion now. + The King's decease has freed you from the bonds + That made the crime and horror of your love. + Hippolytus no longer need be dreaded, + Him you may see henceforth without reproach. + It may be, that, convinced of your aversion, + He means to head the rebels. Undeceive him, + Soften his callous heart, and bend his pride. + King of this fertile land, in Troezen here + His portion lies; but as he knows, the laws + Give to your son the ramparts that Minerva + Built and protects. A common enemy + Threatens you both, unite them to oppose + Aricia. + + PHAEDRA + To your counsel I consent. + Yes, I will live, if life can be restored, + If my affection for a son has pow'r + To rouse my sinking heart at such a dangerous hour. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ACT II + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SCENE I + ARICIA, ISMENE +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ARICIA + Hippolytus request to see me here! + Hippolytus desire to bid farewell! + Is't true, Ismene? Are you not deceived? + + ISMENE + This is the first result of Theseus' death. + Prepare yourself to see from every side. + Hearts turn towards you that were kept away + By Theseus. Mistress of her lot at last, + Aricia soon shall find all Greece fall low, + To do her homage. + + ARICIA + 'Tis not then, Ismene, + An idle tale? Am I no more a slave? + Have I no enemies? + + ISMENE + The gods oppose + Your peace no longer, and the soul of Theseus + Is with your brothers. + + ARICIA + Does the voice of fame + Tell how he died? + + ISMENE + Rumours incredible + Are spread. Some say that, seizing a new bride, + The faithless husband by the waves was swallow'd. + Others affirm, and this report prevails, + That with Pirithous to the world below + He went, and saw the shores of dark Cocytus, + Showing himself alive to the pale ghosts; + But that he could not leave those gloomy realms, + Which whoso enters there abides for ever. + + ARICIA + Shall I believe that ere his destined hour + A mortal may descend into the gulf + Of Hades? What attraction could o'ercome + Its terrors? + + ISMENE + He is dead, and you alone + Doubt it. The men of Athens mourn his loss. + Troezen already hails Hippolytus + As King. And Phaedra, fearing for her son, + Asks counsel of the friends who share her trouble, + Here in this palace. + + ARICIA + Will Hippolytus, + Think you, prove kinder than his sire, make light + My chains, and pity my misfortunes? + + ISMENE + Yes, + I think so, Madam. + + ARICIA + Ah, you know him not + Or you would never deem so hard a heart + Can pity feel, or me alone except + From the contempt in which he holds our sex. + Has he not long avoided every spot + Where we resort? + + ISMENE + I know what tales are told + Of proud Hippolytus, but I have seen + Him near you, and have watch'd with curious eye + How one esteem'd so cold would bear himself. + Little did his behavior correspond + With what I look'd for; in his face confusion + Appear'd at your first glance, he could not turn + His languid eyes away, but gazed on you. + Love is a word that may offend his pride, + But what the tongue disowns, looks can betray. + + ARICIA + How eagerly my heart hears what you say, + Tho' it may be delusion, dear Ismene! + Did it seem possible to you, who know me, + That I, sad sport of a relentless Fate, + Fed upon bitter tears by night and day, + Could ever taste the maddening draught of love? + The last frail offspring of a royal race, + Children of Earth, I only have survived + War's fury. Cut off in the flow'r of youth, + Mown by the sword, six brothers have I lost, + The hope of an illustrious house, whose blood + Earth drank with sorrow, near akin to his + Whom she herself produced. Since then, you know + How thro' all Greece no heart has been allow'd + To sigh for me, lest by a sister's flame + The brothers' ashes be perchance rekindled. + You know, besides, with what disdain I view'd + My conqueror's suspicions and precautions, + And how, oppos'd as I have ever been + To love, I often thank'd the King's injustice + Which happily confirm'd my inclination. + But then I never had beheld his son. + Not that, attracted merely by the eye, I + love him for his beauty and his grace, + Endowments which he owes to Nature's bounty, + Charms which he seems to know not or to scorn. + I love and prize in him riches more rare, + The virtues of his sire, without his faults. + I love, as I must own, that generous pride + Which ne'er has stoop'd beneath the amorous yoke. + Phaedra reaps little glory from a lover + So lavish of his sighs; I am too proud + To share devotion with a thousand others, + Or enter where the door is always open. + But to make one who ne'er has stoop'd before + Bend his proud neck, to pierce a heart of stone, + To bind a captive whom his chains astonish, + Who vainly 'gainst a pleasing yoke rebels,— + That piques my ardour, and I long for that. + 'Twas easier to disarm the god of strength + Than this Hippolytus, for Hercules + Yielded so often to the eyes of beauty, + As to make triumph cheap. But, dear Ismene, + I take too little heed of opposition + Beyond my pow'r to quell, and you may hear me, + Humbled by sore defeat, upbraid the pride + I now admire. What! Can he love? and I + Have had the happiness to bend— + + ISMENE + He comes + Yourself shall hear him. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SCENE II + HIPPOLYTUS, ARICIA, ISMENE +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + HIPPOLYTUS + Lady, ere I go + My duty bids me tell you of your change + Of fortune. My worst fears are realized; + My sire is dead. Yes, his protracted absence + Was caused as I foreboded. Death alone, + Ending his toils, could keep him from the world + Conceal'd so long. The gods at last have doom'd + Alcides' friend, companion, and successor. + I think your hatred, tender to his virtues, + Can hear such terms of praise without resentment, + Knowing them due. One hope have I that soothes + My sorrow: I can free you from restraint. + Lo, I revoke the laws whose rigour moved + My pity; you are at your own disposal, + Both heart and hand; here, in my heritage, + In Troezen, where my grandsire Pittheus reign'd + Of yore and I am now acknowledged King, + I leave you free, free as myself,—and more. + + ARICIA + Your kindness is too great, 'tis overwhelming. + Such generosity, that pays disgrace + With honour, lends more force than you can think + To those harsh laws from which you would release me. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Athens, uncertain how to fill the throne + Of Theseus, speaks of you, anon of me, + And then of Phaedra's son. + + ARICIA + Of me, my lord? + + HIPPOLYTUS + I know myself excluded by strict law: + Greece turns to my reproach a foreign mother. + But if my brother were my only rival, + My rights prevail o'er his clearly enough + To make me careless of the law's caprice. + My forwardness is check'd by juster claims: + To you I yield my place, or, rather, own + That it is yours by right, and yours the sceptre, + As handed down from Earth's great son, Erechtheus. + Adoption placed it in the hands of Aegeus: + Athens, by him protected and increased, + Welcomed a king so generous as my sire, + And left your hapless brothers in oblivion. + Now she invites you back within her walls; + Protracted strife has cost her groans enough, + Her fields are glutted with your kinsmen's blood + Fatt'ning the furrows out of which it sprung + At first. I rule this Troezen; while the son + Of Phaedra has in Crete a rich domain. + Athens is yours. I will do all I can + To join for you the votes divided now + Between us. + + ARICIA + Stunn'd at all I hear, my lord, + I fear, I almost fear a dream deceives me. + Am I indeed awake? Can I believe + Such generosity? What god has put it + Into your heart? Well is the fame deserved + That you enjoy! That fame falls short of truth! + Would you for me prove traitor to yourself? + Was it not boon enough never to hate me, + So long to have abstain'd from harbouring + The enmity— + + HIPPOLYTUS + To hate you? I, to hate you? + However darkly my fierce pride was painted, + Do you suppose a monster gave me birth? + What savage temper, what envenom'd hatred + Would not be mollified at sight of you? + Could I resist the soul-bewitching charm— + + ARICIA + Why, what is this, Sir? + + HIPPOLYTUS + I have said too much + Not to say more. Prudence in vain resists + The violence of passion. I have broken + Silence at last, and I must tell you now + The secret that my heart can hold no longer. + You see before you an unhappy instance + Of hasty pride, a prince who claims compassion + I, who, so long the enemy of Love, + Mock'd at his fetters and despised his captives, + Who, pitying poor mortals that were shipwreck'd, + In seeming safety view'd the storms from land, + Now find myself to the same fate exposed, + Toss'd to and fro upon a sea of troubles! + My boldness has been vanquish'd in a moment, + And humbled is the pride wherein I boasted. + For nearly six months past, ashamed, despairing, + Bearing where'er I go the shaft that rends + My heart, I struggle vainly to be free + From you and from myself; I shun you, present; + Absent, I find you near; I see your form + In the dark forest depths; the shades of night, + Nor less broad daylight, bring back to my view + The charms that I avoid; all things conspire + To make Hippolytus your slave. For fruit + Of all my bootless sighs, I fail to find + My former self. My bow and javelins + Please me no more, my chariot is forgotten, + With all the Sea God's lessons; and the woods + Echo my groans instead of joyous shouts + Urging my fiery steeds. + + Hearing this tale + Of passion so uncouth, you blush perchance + At your own handiwork. With what wild words + I offer you my heart, strange captive held + By silken jess! But dearer in your eyes + Should be the offering, that this language comes + Strange to my lips; reject not vows express'd + So ill, which but for you had ne'er been form'd. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SCENE III + HIPPOLYTUS, ARICIA, THERAMENES, ISMENE +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + THERAMENES + Prince, the Queen comes. I herald her approach. + 'Tis you she seeks. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Me? + + THERAMENES + What her thought may be + I know not. But I speak on her behalf. + She would converse with you ere you go hence. + + HIPPOLYTUS + What shall I say to her? Can she expect— + + ARICIA + You cannot, noble Prince, refuse to hear her, + Howe'er convinced she is your enemy, + Some shade of pity to her tears is due. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Shall we part thus? and will you let me go, + Not knowing if my boldness has offended + The goddess I adore? Whether this heart, + Left in your hands— + + ARICIA + Go, Prince, pursue the schemes + Your generous soul dictates, make Athens own + My sceptre. All the gifts you offer me + Will I accept, but this high throne of empire + Is not the one most precious in my sight. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SCENE IV + HIPPOLYTUS, THERAMENES +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + HIPPOLYTUS + Friend, is all ready? + But the Queen approaches. + Go, see the vessel in fit trim to sail. + Haste, bid the crew aboard, and hoist the signal: + Then soon return, and so deliver me + From interview most irksome. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SCENE V + PHAEDRA, HIPPOLYTUS, OENONE +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + PHAEDRA (to OENONE) + There I see him! + My blood forgets to flow, my tongue to speak + What I am come to say. + + OENONE + Think of your son, + How all his hopes depend on you. + + PHAEDRA + I hear + You leave us, and in haste. I come to add + My tears to your distress, and for a son + Plead my alarm. No more has he a father, + And at no distant day my son must witness + My death. Already do a thousand foes + Threaten his youth. You only can defend him + But in my secret heart remorse awakes, + And fear lest I have shut your ears against + His cries. I tremble lest your righteous anger + Visit on him ere long the hatred earn'd + By me, his mother. + + HIPPOLYTUS + No such base resentment, + Madam, is mine. + + PHAEDRA + I could not blame you, Prince, + If you should hate me. I have injured you: + So much you know, but could not read my heart. + T' incur your enmity has been mine aim. + The self-same borders could not hold us both; + In public and in private I declared + Myself your foe, and found no peace till seas + Parted us from each other. I forbade + Your very name to be pronounced before me. + And yet if punishment should be proportion'd + To the offence, if only hatred draws + Your hatred, never woman merited + More pity, less deserved your enmity. + + HIPPOLYTUS + A mother jealous of her children's rights + Seldom forgives the offspring of a wife + Who reign'd before her. Harassing suspicions + Are common sequels of a second marriage. + Of me would any other have been jealous + No less than you, perhaps more violent. + + PHAEDRA + Ah, Prince, how Heav'n has from the general law + Made me exempt, be that same Heav'n my witness! + Far different is the trouble that devours me! + + HIPPOLYTUS + This is no time for self-reproaches, Madam. + It may be that your husband still beholds + The light, and Heav'n may grant him safe return, + In answer to our prayers. His guardian god + Is Neptune, ne'er by him invoked in vain. + + PHAEDRA + He who has seen the mansions of the dead + Returns not thence. Since to those gloomy shores + Theseus is gone, 'tis vain to hope that Heav'n + May send him back. Prince, there is no release + From Acheron's greedy maw. And yet, methinks, + He lives, and breathes in you. I see him still + Before me, and to him I seem to speak; + My heart— + Oh! I am mad; do what I will, + I cannot hide my passion. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Yes, I see + The strange effects of love. Theseus, tho' dead, + Seems present to your eyes, for in your soul + There burns a constant flame. + + PHAEDRA + Ah, yes for Theseus + I languish and I long, not as the Shades + Have seen him, of a thousand different forms + The fickle lover, and of Pluto's bride + The would-be ravisher, but faithful, proud + E'en to a slight disdain, with youthful charms + Attracting every heart, as gods are painted, + Or like yourself. He had your mien, your eyes, + Spoke and could blush like you, when to the isle + Of Crete, my childhood's home, he cross'd the waves, + Worthy to win the love of Minos' daughters. + What were you doing then? Why did he gather + The flow'r of Greece, and leave Hippolytus? + Oh, why were you too young to have embark'd + On board the ship that brought thy sire to Crete? + At your hands would the monster then have perish'd, + Despite the windings of his vast retreat. + To guide your doubtful steps within the maze + My sister would have arm'd you with the clue. + But no, therein would Phaedra have forestall'd her, + Love would have first inspired me with the thought; + And I it would have been whose timely aid + Had taught you all the labyrinth's crooked ways. + What anxious care a life so dear had cost me! + No thread had satisfied your lover's fears: + I would myself have wish'd to lead the way, + And share the peril you were bound to face; + Phaedra with you would have explored the maze, + With you emerged in safety, or have perish'd. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Gods! What is this I hear? Have you forgotten + That Theseus is my father and your husband? + + PHAEDRA + Why should you fancy I have lost remembrance + Thereof, and am regardless of mine honour? + + HIPPOLYTUS + Forgive me, Madam. With a blush I own + That I misconstrued words of innocence. + For very shame I cannot bear your sight + Longer. I go— + + PHAEDRA + Ah! cruel Prince, too well + You understood me. I have said enough + To save you from mistake. I love. But think not + That at the moment when I love you most + I do not feel my guilt; no weak compliance + Has fed the poison that infects my brain. + The ill-starr'd object of celestial vengeance, + I am not so detestable to you + As to myself. The gods will bear me witness, + Who have within my veins kindled this fire, + The gods, who take a barbarous delight + In leading a poor mortal's heart astray. + Do you yourself recall to mind the past: + 'Twas not enough for me to fly, I chased you + Out of the country, wishing to appear + Inhuman, odious; to resist you better, + I sought to make you hate me. All in vain! + Hating me more I loved you none the less: + New charms were lent to you by your misfortunes. + I have been drown'd in tears, and scorch'd by fire; + Your own eyes might convince you of the truth, + If for one moment you could look at me. + What is't I say? Think you this vile confession + That I have made is what I meant to utter? + Not daring to betray a son for whom + I trembled, 'twas to beg you not to hate him + I came. Weak purpose of a heart too full + Of love for you to speak of aught besides! + Take your revenge, punish my odious passion; + Prove yourself worthy of your valiant sire, + And rid the world of an offensive monster! + Does Theseus' widow dare to love his son? + The frightful monster! Let her not escape you! + Here is my heart. This is the place to strike. + Already prompt to expiate its guilt, + I feel it leap impatiently to meet + Your arm. Strike home. Or, if it would disgrace you + To steep your hand in such polluted blood, + If that were punishment too mild to slake + Your hatred, lend me then your sword, if not + Your arm. Quick, give't. + + OENONE + What, Madam, will you do? + Just gods! But someone comes. Go, fly from shame, + You cannot 'scape if seen by any thus. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SCENE VI + HIPPOLYTUS, THERAMENES +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + THERAMENES + Is that the form of Phaedra that I see + Hurried away? What mean these signs of sorrow? + Where is your sword? Why are you pale, confused? + + HIPPOLYTUS + Friend, let us fly. I am, indeed, confounded + With horror and astonishment extreme. + Phaedra—but no; gods, let this dreadful secret + Remain for ever buried in oblivion. + + THERAMENES + The ship is ready if you wish to sail. + But Athens has already giv'n her vote; + Their leaders have consulted all her tribes; + Your brother is elected, Phaedra wins. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Phaedra? + + THERAMENES + A herald, charged with a commission + From Athens, has arrived to place the reins + Of power in her hands. Her son is King. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Ye gods, who know her, do ye thus reward + Her virtue? + + THERAMENES + A faint rumour meanwhile whispers + That Theseus is not dead, but in Epirus + Has shown himself. But, after all my search, + I know too well— + + HIPPOLYTUS + Let nothing be neglected. + This rumour must be traced back to its source. + If it be found unworthy of belief, + Let us set sail, and cost whate'er it may, + To hands deserving trust the sceptre's sway. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ACT III + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Scene I + PHAEDRA, OENONE +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + PHAEDRA + Ah! Let them take elsewhere the worthless honours + They bring me. Why so urgent I should see them? + What flattering balm can soothe my wounded heart? + Far rather hide me: I have said too much. + My madness has burst forth like streams in flood, + And I have utter'd what should ne'er have reach'd + His ear. Gods! How he heard me! How reluctant + To catch my meaning, dull and cold as marble, + And eager only for a quick retreat! + How oft his blushes made my shame the deeper! + Why did you turn me from the death I sought? + Ah! When his sword was pointed to my bosom, + Did he grow pale, or try to snatch it from me? + That I had touch'd it was enough for him + To render it for ever horrible, + Leaving defilement on the hand that holds it. + + OENONE + Thus brooding on your bitter disappointment, + You only fan a fire that must be stifled. + Would it not be more worthy of the blood + Of Minos to find peace in nobler cares, + And, in defiance of a wretch who flies + From what he hates, reign, mount the proffer'd throne? + + PHAEDRA + I reign! Shall I the rod of empire sway, + When reason reigns no longer o'er myself? + When I have lost control of all my senses? + When 'neath a shameful yoke I scarce can breathe? + When I am dying? + + OENONE + Fly. + + PHAEDRA + I cannot leave him. + + OENONE + Dare you not fly from him you dared to banish? + + PHAEDRA + The time for that is past. He knows my frenzy. + I have o'erstepp'd the bounds of modesty, + And blazon'd forth my shame before his eyes. + Hope stole into my heart against my will. + Did you not rally my declining pow'rs? + Was it not you yourself recall'd my soul + When fluttering on my lips, and with your counsel, + Lent me fresh life, and told me I might love him? + + OENONE + Blame me or blame me not for your misfortunes, + Of what was I incapable, to save you? + But if your indignation e'er was roused + By insult, can you pardon his contempt? + How cruelly his eyes, severely fix'd, + Survey'd you almost prostrate at his feet! + How hateful then appear'd his savage pride! + Why did not Phaedra see him then as I + Beheld him? + + PHAEDRA + This proud mood that you resent + May yield to time. The rudeness of the forests + Where he was bred, inured to rigorous laws, + Clings to him still; love is a word he ne'er + Had heard before. It may be his surprise + Stunn'd him, and too much vehemence was shown + In all I said. + + OENONE + Remember that his mother + Was a barbarian. + + PHAEDRA + Scythian tho' she was, + She learned to love. + + OENONE + He has for all the sex + Hatred intense. + + PHAEDRA + Then in his heart no rival + Shall ever reign. Your counsel comes too late + Oenone, serve my madness, not my reason. + His heart is inaccessible to love. + Let us attack him where he has more feeling. + The charms of sovereignty appear'd to touch him; + He could not hide that he was drawn to Athens; + His vessels' prows were thither turn'd already, + All sail was set to scud before the breeze. + Go you on my behalf, to his ambition + Appeal, and let the prospect of the crown + Dazzle his eyes. The sacred diadem + Shall deck his brow, no higher honour mine + Than there to bind it. His shall be the pow'r + I cannot keep; and he shall teach my son + How to rule men. It may be he will deign + To be to him a father. Son and mother + He shall control. Try ev'ry means to move him; + Your words will find more favour than can mine. + Urge him with groans and tears; show Phaedra dying. + Nor blush to use the voice of supplication. + In you is my last hope; I'll sanction all + You say; and on the issue hangs my fate. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Scene II +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + PHAEDRA (alone) + Venus implacable, who seest me shamed + And sore confounded, have I not enough + Been humbled? How can cruelty be stretch'd + Farther? Thy shafts have all gone home, and thou + Hast triumph'd. Would'st thou win a new renown? + Attack an enemy more contumacious: + Hippolytus neglects thee, braves thy wrath, + Nor ever at thine altars bow'd the knee. + Thy name offends his proud, disdainful ears. + Our interests are alike: avenge thyself, + Force him to love— + But what is this? Oenone + Return'd already? He detests me then, + And will not hear you. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SCENE III + PHAEDRA, OENONE +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + OENONE + Madam, you must stifle + A fruitless love. Recall your former virtue: + The king who was thought dead will soon appear + Before your eyes, Theseus has just arrived, + Theseus is here. The people flock to see him + With eager haste. I went by your command + To find the prince, when with a thousand shouts + The air was rent— + + PHAEDRA + My husband is alive, + That is enough, Oenone. I have own'd + A passion that dishonours him. He lives: + I ask to know no more. + + OENONE + What? + + PHAEDRA + I foretold it, + But you refused to hear. Your tears prevail'd + Over my just remorse. Dying this morn, + I had deserved compassion; your advice + I took, and die dishonour'd. + + OENONE + Die? + + PHAEDRA + Just Heav'ns! + What have I done to-day? My husband comes, + With him his son: and I shall see the witness + Of my adulterous flame watch with what face + I greet his father, while my heart is big + With sighs he scorn'd, and tears that could not move him + Moisten mine eyes. Think you that his respect + For Theseus will induce him to conceal + My madness, nor disgrace his sire and king? + Will he be able to keep back the horror + He has for me? His silence would be vain. + I know my treason, and I lack the boldness + Of those abandon'd women who can taste + Tranquillity in crime, and show a forehead + All unabash'd. I recognize my madness, + Recall it all. These vaulted roofs, methinks, + These walls can speak, and, ready to accuse me, + Wait but my husband's presence to reveal + My perfidy. Death only can remove + This weight of horror. Is it such misfortune + To cease to live? Death causes no alarm + To misery. I only fear the name + That I shall leave behind me. For my sons + How sad a heritage! The blood of Jove + Might justly swell the pride that boasts descent + From Heav'n, but heavy weighs a mother's guilt + Upon her offspring. Yes, I dread the scorn + That will be cast on them, with too much truth, + For my disgrace. I tremble when I think + That, crush'd beneath that curse, they'll never dare + To raise their eyes. + + OENONE + Doubt not I pity both; + Never was fear more just than yours. Why, then, + Expose them to this ignominy? Why + Will you accuse yourself? You thus destroy + The only hope that's left; it will be said + That Phaedra, conscious of her perfidy, + Fled from her husband's sight. Hippolytus + Will be rejoiced that, dying, you should lend + His charge support. What can I answer him? + He'll find it easy to confute my tale, + And I shall hear him with an air of triumph + To every open ear repeat your shame. + Sooner than that may fire from heav'n consume me! + Deceive me not. Say, do you love him still? + How look you now on this contemptuous prince? + + PHAEDRA + As on a monster frightful to mine eyes. + + OENONE + Why yield him, then, an easy victory? + You fear him? Venture to accuse him first, + As guilty of the charge which he may bring + This day against you. Who can say 'tis false? + All tells against him: in your hands his sword + Happily left behind, your present trouble, + Your past distress, your warnings to his father, + His exile which your earnest pray'rs obtain'd. + + PHAEDRA + What! Would you have me slander innocence? + + OENONE + My zeal has need of naught from you but silence. + Like you I tremble, and am loath to do it; + More willingly I'd face a thousand deaths, + But since without this bitter remedy + I lose you, and to me your life outweighs + All else, I'll speak. Theseus, howe'er enraged + Will do no worse than banish him again. + A father, when he punishes, remains + A father, and his ire is satisfied + With a light sentence. But if guiltless blood + Should flow, is not your honour of more moment? + A treasure far too precious to be risk'd? + You must submit, whatever it dictates; + For, when our reputation is at stake, + All must be sacrificed, conscience itself. + But someone comes. 'Tis Theseus. + + PHAEDRA + And I see + Hippolytus, my ruin plainly written + In his stern eyes. Do what you will; I trust + My fate to you. I cannot help myself. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SCENE IV + THESEUS, HIPPOLYTUS, PHAEDRA, OENONE, THERAMENES +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + THESEUS + Fortune no longer fights against my wishes, + Madam, and to your arms restores— + + PHAEDRA + Stay, Theseus! + Do not profane endearments that were once + So sweet, but which I am unworthy now + To taste. You have been wrong'd. Fortune has proved + Spiteful, nor in your absence spared your wife. + I am unfit to meet your fond caress, + How I may bear my shame my only care + Henceforth. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Scene V + THESEUS, HIPPOLYTUS, THERAMENES +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + THESEUS + Strange welcome for your father, this! + What does it mean, my son? + + HIPPOLYTUS + Phaedra alone + Can solve this mystery. But if my wish + Can move you, let me never see her more; + Suffer Hippolytus to disappear + For ever from the home that holds your wife. + + THESEUS + You, my son! Leave me? + + HIPPOLYTUS + 'Twas not I who sought her: + 'Twas you who led her footsteps to these shores. + At your departure you thought meet, my lord, + To trust Aricia and the Queen to this + Troezenian land, and I myself was charged + With their protection. But what cares henceforth + Need keep me here? My youth of idleness + Has shown its skill enough o'er paltry foes + That range the woods. May I not quit a life + Of such inglorious ease, and dip my spear + In nobler blood? Ere you had reach'd my age + More than one tyrant, monster more than one + Had felt the weight of your stout arm. Already, + Successful in attacking insolence, + You had removed all dangers that infested + Our coasts to east and west. The traveller fear'd + Outrage no longer. Hearing of your deeds, + Already Hercules relied on you, + And rested from his toils. While I, unknown + Son of so brave a sire, am far behind + Even my mother's footsteps. Let my courage + Have scope to act, and if some monster yet + Has 'scaped you, let me lay the glorious spoils + Down at your feet; or let the memory + Of death faced nobly keep my name alive, + And prove to all the world I was your son. + + THESEUS + Why, what is this? What terror has possess'd + My family to make them fly before me? + If I return to find myself so fear'd, + So little welcome, why did Heav'n release me + From prison? My sole friend, misled by passion, + Was bent on robbing of his wife the tyrant + Who ruled Epirus. With regret I lent + The lover aid, but Fate had made us blind, + Myself as well as him. The tyrant seized me + Defenceless and unarm'd. Pirithous + I saw with tears cast forth to be devour'd + By savage beasts that lapp'd the blood of men. + Myself in gloomy caverns he inclosed, + Deep in the bowels of the earth, and nigh + To Pluto's realms. Six months I lay ere Heav'n + Had pity, and I 'scaped the watchful eyes + That guarded me. Then did I purge the world + Of a foul foe, and he himself has fed + His monsters. But when with expectant joy + To all that is most precious I draw near + Of what the gods have left me, when my soul + Looks for full satisfaction in a sight + So dear, my only welcome is a shudder, + Embrace rejected, and a hasty flight. + Inspiring, as I clearly do, such terror, + Would I were still a prisoner in Epirus! + Phaedra complains that I have suffer'd outrage. + Who has betray'd me? Speak. Why was I not + Avenged? Has Greece, to whom mine arm so oft + Brought useful aid, shelter'd the criminal? + You make no answer. Is my son, mine own + Dear son, confederate with mine enemies? + I'll enter. This suspense is overwhelming. + I'll learn at once the culprit and the crime, + And Phaedra must explain her troubled state. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Scene VI + HIPPOLYTUS, THERAMENES +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + HIPPOLYTUS + What do these words portend, which seem'd to freeze + My very blood? Will Phaedra, in her frenzy + Accuse herself, and seal her own destruction? + What will the King say? Gods! What fatal poison + Has love spread over all his house! Myself, + Full of a fire his hatred disapproves, + How changed he finds me from the son he knew! + With dark forebodings in my mind alarm'd, + But innocence has surely naught to fear. + Come, let us go, and in some other place + Consider how I best may move my sire + To tenderness, and tell him of a flame + Vex'd but not vanquish'd by a father's blame. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ACT IV + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Scene I + THESEUS, OENONE +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + THESEUS + Ah! What is this I hear? Presumptuous traitor! + And would he have disgraced his father's honour? + With what relentless footsteps Fate pursues me! + Whither I go I know not, nor where know + I am. O kind affection ill repaid! + Audacious scheme! Abominable thought! + To reach the object of his foul desire + The wretch disdain'd not to use violence. + I know this sword that served him in his fury, + The sword I gave him for a nobler use. + Could not the sacred ties of blood restrain him? + And Phaedra,—was she loath to have him punish'd? + She held her tongue. Was that to spare the culprit? + + OENONE + Nay, but to spare a most unhappy father. + O'erwhelm'd with shame that her eyes should have kindled + So infamous a flame and prompted him + To crime so heinous, Phaedra would have died. + I saw her raise her arm, and ran to save her. + To me alone you owe it that she lives; + And, in my pity both for her and you, + Have I against my will interpreted + Her tears. + + THESEUS + The traitor! He might well turn pale. + 'Twas fear that made him tremble when he saw me. + I was astonish'd that he show'd no pleasure; + His frigid greeting chill'd my tenderness. + But was this guilty passion that devours him + Declared already ere I banish'd him + From Athens? + + OENONE + Sire, remember how the Queen + Urged you. Illicit love caused all her hatred. + + THESEUS + And then this fire broke out again at Troezen? + + OENONE + Sire, I have told you all. Too long the Queen + Has been allow'd to bear her grief alone + Let me now leave you and attend to her. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Scene II + THESEUS, HIPPOLYTUS +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + THESEUS + Ah! There he is. Great gods! That noble mien + Might well deceive an eye less fond than mine! + Why should the sacred stamp of virtue gleam + Upon the forehead of an impious wretch? + Ought not the blackness of a traitor's heart + To show itself by sure and certain signs? + + HIPPOLYTUS + My father, may I ask what fatal cloud + Has troubled your majestic countenance? + Dare you not trust this secret to your son? + + THESEUS + Traitor, how dare you show yourself before me? + Monster, whom Heaven's bolts have spared too long! + Survivor of that robber crew whereof + I cleansed the earth. After your brutal lust + Scorn'd even to respect my marriage bed, + You venture—you, my hated foe—to come + Into my presence, here, where all is full + Of your foul infamy, instead of seeking + Some unknown land that never heard my name. + Fly, traitor, fly! Stay not to tempt the wrath + That I can scarce restrain, nor brave my hatred. + Disgrace enough have I incurr'd for ever + In being father of so vile a son, + Without your death staining indelibly + The glorious record of my noble deeds. + Fly, and unless you wish quick punishment + To add you to the criminals cut off + By me, take heed this sun that lights us now + Ne'er sees you more set foot upon this soil. + I tell you once again,—fly, haste, return not, + Rid all my realms of your atrocious presence. + To thee, to thee, great Neptune, I appeal + If erst I clear'd thy shores of foul assassins + Recall thy promise to reward those efforts, + Crown'd with success, by granting my first pray'r. + Confined for long in close captivity, + I have not yet call'd on thy pow'rful aid, + Sparing to use the valued privilege + Till at mine utmost need. The time is come + I ask thee now. Avenge a wretched father! + I leave this traitor to thy wrath; in blood + Quench his outrageous fires, and by thy fury + Theseus will estimate thy favour tow'rds him. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Phaedra accuses me of lawless passion! + This crowning horror all my soul confounds; + Such unexpected blows, falling at once, + O'erwhelm me, choke my utterance, strike me dumb. + + THESEUS + Traitor, you reckon'd that in timid silence + Phaedra would bury your brutality. + You should not have abandon'd in your flight + The sword that in her hands helps to condemn you; + Or rather, to complete your perfidy, + You should have robb'd her both of speech and life. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Justly indignant at a lie so black + I might be pardon'd if I told the truth; + But it concerns your honour to conceal it. + Approve the reverence that shuts my mouth; + And, without wishing to increase your woes, + Examine closely what my life has been. + Great crimes are never single, they are link'd + To former faults. He who has once transgress'd + May violate at last all that men hold + Most sacred; vice, like virtue, has degrees + Of progress; innocence was never seen + To sink at once into the lowest depths + Of guilt. No virtuous man can in a day + Turn traitor, murderer, an incestuous wretch. + The nursling of a chaste, heroic mother, + I have not proved unworthy of my birth. + Pittheus, whose wisdom is by all esteem'd, + Deign'd to instruct me when I left her hands. + It is no wish of mine to vaunt my merits, + But, if I may lay claim to any virtue, + I think beyond all else I have display'd + Abhorrence of those sins with which I'm charged. + For this Hippolytus is known in Greece, + So continent that he is deem'd austere. + All know my abstinence inflexible: + The daylight is not purer than my heart. + How, then, could I, burning with fire profane— + + THESEUS + Yes, dastard, 'tis that very pride condemns you. + I see the odious reason of your coldness + Phaedra alone bewitch'd your shameless eyes; + Your soul, to others' charms indifferent, + Disdain'd the blameless fires of lawful love. + + HIPPOLYTUS + No, father, I have hidden it too long, + This heart has not disdain'd a sacred flame. + Here at your feet I own my real offence: + I love, and love in truth where you forbid me; + Bound to Aricia by my heart's devotion, + The child of Pallas has subdued your son. + A rebel to your laws, her I adore, + And breathe forth ardent sighs for her alone. + + THESEUS + You love her? Heav'ns! + But no, I see the trick. + You feign a crime to justify yourself. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Sir, I have shunn'd her for six months, and still + Love her. To you yourself I came to tell it, + Trembling the while. Can nothing clear your mind + Of your mistake? What oath can reassure you? + By heav'n and earth and all the pow'rs of nature— + + THESEUS + The wicked never shrink from perjury. + Cease, cease, and spare me irksome protestations, + If your false virtue has no other aid. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Tho' it to you seem false and insincere, + Phaedra has secret cause to know it true. + + THESEUS + Ah! how your shamelessness excites my wrath! + + HIPPOLYTUS + What is my term and place of banishment? + + THESEUS + Were you beyond the Pillars of Alcides, + Your perjured presence were too near me yet. + + HIPPOLYTUS + What friends will pity me, when you forsake + And think me guilty of a crime so vile? + + THESEUS + Go, look you out for friends who hold in honour + Adultery and clap their hands at incest, + Low, lawless traitors, steep'd in infamy, + The fit protectors of a knave like you. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Are incest and adultery the words + You cast at me? I hold my tongue. Yet think + What mother Phaedra had; too well you know + Her blood, not mine, is tainted with those horrors. + + THESEUS + What! Does your rage before my eyes lose all + Restraint? For the last time,—out of my sight! + Hence, traitor! Wait not till a father's wrath + Force thee away 'mid general execration. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Scene III +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + THESEUS (alone) + Wretch! Thou must meet inevitable ruin. + Neptune has sworn by Styx—to gods themselves + A dreadful oath,—and he will execute + His promise. Thou canst not escape his vengeance. + I loved thee; and, in spite of thine offence, + My heart is troubled by anticipation + For thee. But thou hast earn'd thy doom too well. + Had father ever greater cause for rage? + Just gods, who see the grief that overwhelms me, + Why was I cursed with such a wicked son? +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SCENE IV + PHAEDRA, THESEUS +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + PHAEDRA + My lord, I come to you, fill'd with just dread. + Your voice raised high in anger reach'd mine ears, + And much I fear that deeds have follow'd threats. + Oh, if there yet is time, spare your own offspring. + Respect your race and blood, I do beseech you. + Let me not hear that blood cry from the ground; + Save me the horror and perpetual pain + Of having caused his father's hand to shed it. + + THESEUS + No, Madam, from that stain my hand is free. + But, for all that, the wretch has not escaped me. + The hand of an Immortal now is charged + With his destruction. 'Tis a debt that Neptune + Owes me, and you shall be avenged. + + PHAEDRA + A debt + Owed you? Pray'rs made in anger— + + THESEUS + Never fear + That they will fail. Rather join yours to mine + In all their blackness paint for me his crimes, + And fan my tardy passion to white heat. + But yet you know not all his infamy; + His rage against you overflows in slanders; + Your mouth, he says, is full of all deceit, + He says Aricia has his heart and soul, + That her alone he loves. + + PHAEDRA + Aricia? + + THESEUS + Aye, + He said it to my face! an idle pretext! + A trick that gulls me not! Let us hope Neptune + Will do him speedy justice. To his altars + I go, to urge performance of his oaths. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SCENE V +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + PHAEDRA (alone) + Ah, he is gone! What tidings struck mine ears? + What fire, half smother'd, in my heart revives? + What fatal stroke falls like a thunderbolt? + Stung by remorse that would not let me rest, + I tore myself out of Oenone's arms, + And flew to help Hippolytus with all + My soul and strength. Who knows if that repentance + Might not have moved me to accuse myself? + And, if my voice had not been choked with shame, + Perhaps I had confess'd the frightful truth. + Hippolytus can feel, but not for me! + Aricia has his heart, his plighted troth. + Ye gods, when, deaf to all my sighs and tears, + He arm'd his eye with scorn, his brow with threats, + I deem'd his heart, impregnable to love, + Was fortified 'gainst all my sex alike. + And yet another has prevail'd to tame + His pride, another has secured his favour. + Perhaps he has a heart easily melted; + I am the only one he cannot bear! + And shall I charge myself with his defence? +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SCENE VI + PHAEDRA, OENONE +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + PHAEDRA + Know you, dear Nurse, what I have learn'd just now? + + OENONE + No; but I come in truth with trembling limbs. + I dreaded with what purpose you went forth, + The fear of fatal madness made me pale. + + PHAEDRA + Who would have thought it, Nurse? I had a rival. + + OENONE + A rival? + + PHAEDRA + Yes, he loves. I cannot doubt it. + This wild untamable Hippolytus, + Who scorn'd to be admired, whom lovers' sighs + Wearied, this tiger, whom I fear'd to rouse, + Fawns on a hand that has subdued his pride: + Aricia has found entrance to his heart. + + OENONE + Aricia? + + PHAEDRA + Ah! anguish as yet untried! + For what new tortures am I still reserved? + All I have undergone, transports of passion, + Longings and fears, the horrors of remorse, + The shame of being spurn'd with contumely, + Were feeble foretastes of my present torments. + They love each other! By what secret charm + Have they deceived me? Where, and when, and how + Met they? You knew it all. Why was I cozen'd? + You never told me of those stolen hours + Of amorous converse. Have they oft been seen + Talking together? Did they seek the shades + Of thickest woods? Alas! full freedom had they + To see each other. Heav'n approved their sighs; + They loved without the consciousness of guilt; + And every morning's sun for them shone clear, + While I, an outcast from the face of Nature, + Shunn'd the bright day, and sought to hide myself. + Death was the only god whose aid I dared + To ask: I waited for the grave's release. + Water'd with tears, nourish'd with gall, my woe + Was all too closely watch'd; I did not dare + To weep without restraint. In mortal dread + Tasting this dangerous solace, I disguised + My terror 'neath a tranquil countenance, + And oft had I to check my tears, and smile. + + OENONE + What fruit will they enjoy of their vain love? + They will not see each other more. + + PHAEDRA + That love + Will last for ever. Even while I speak, + Ah, fatal thought, they laugh to scorn the madness + Of my distracted heart. In spite of exile + That soon must part them, with a thousand oaths + They seal yet closer union. Can I suffer + A happiness, Oenone, which insults me? + I crave your pity. She must be destroy'd. + My husband's wrath against a hateful stock + Shall be revived, nor must the punishment + Be light: the sister's guilt passes the brothers'. + I will entreat him in my jealous rage. + What am I saying? Have I lost my senses? + Is Phaedra jealous, and will she implore + Theseus for help? My husband lives, and yet + I burn. For whom? Whose heart is this I claim + As mine? At every word I say, my hair + Stands up with horror. Guilt henceforth has pass'd + All bounds. Hypocrisy and incest breathe + At once thro' all. My murderous hands are ready + To spill the blood of guileless innocence. + Do I yet live, wretch that I am, and dare + To face this holy Sun from whom I spring? + My father's sire was king of all the gods; + My ancestors fill all the universe. + Where can I hide? In the dark realms of Pluto? + But there my father holds the fatal urn; + His hand awards th' irrevocable doom: + Minos is judge of all the ghosts in hell. + Ah! how his awful shade will start and shudder + When he shall see his daughter brought before him, + Forced to confess sins of such varied dye, + Crimes it may be unknown to hell itself! + What wilt thou say, my father, at a sight + So dire? I think I see thee drop the urn, + And, seeking some unheard-of punishment, + Thyself become my executioner. + Spare me! A cruel goddess has destroy'd + Thy race; and in my madness recognize + Her wrath. Alas! My aching heart has reap'd + No fruit of pleasure from the frightful crime + The shame of which pursues me to the grave, + And ends in torment life-long misery. + + OENONE + Ah, Madam, pray dismiss a groundless dread: + Look less severely on a venial error. + You love. We cannot conquer destiny. + You were drawn on as by a fatal charm. + Is that a marvel without precedent + Among us? Has love triumph'd over you, + And o'er none else? Weakness is natural + To man. A mortal, to a mortal's lot + Submit. You chafe against a yoke that others + Have long since borne. The dwellers in Olympus, + The gods themselves, who terrify with threats + The sins of men, have burn'd with lawless fires. + + PHAEDRA + What words are these I hear? What counsel this + You dare to give me? Will you to the end + Pour poison in mine ears? You have destroy'd me. + You brought me back when I should else have quitted + The light of day, made me forget my duty + And see Hippolytus, till then avoided. + What hast thou done? Why did your wicked mouth + With blackest lies slander his blameless life? + Perhaps you've slain him, and the impious pray'r + Of an unfeeling father has been answer'd. + No, not another word! Go, hateful monster; + Away, and leave me to my piteous fate. + May Heav'n with justice pay you your deserts! + And may your punishment for ever be + A terror to all those who would, like you, + Nourish with artful wiles the weaknesses + Of princes, push them to the brink of ruin + To which their heart inclines, and smooth the path + Of guilt. Such flatterers doth the wrath of Heav'n + Bestow on kings as its most fatal gift. + + OENONE (alone) + O gods! to serve her what have I not done? + This is the due reward that I have won. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ACT V + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SCENE I + HIPPOLYTUS, ARICIA +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ARICIA + Can you keep silent in this mortal peril? + Your father loves you. Will you leave him thus + Deceived? If in your cruel heart you scorn + My tears, content to see me nevermore, + Go, part from poor Aricia; but at least, + Going, secure the safety of your life. + Defend your honor from a shameful stain, + And force your father to recall his pray'rs. + There yet is time. Why out of mere caprice + Leave the field free to Phaedra's calumnies? + Let Theseus know the truth. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Could I say more, + Without exposing him to dire disgrace? + How should I venture, by revealing all, + To make a father's brow grow red with shame? + The odious mystery to you alone + Is known. My heart has been outpour'd to none + Save you and Heav'n. I could not hide from you + (Judge if I love you), all I fain would hide + E'en from myself. But think under what seal + I spoke. Forget my words, if that may be; + And never let so pure a mouth disclose + This dreadful secret. Let us trust to Heav'n + My vindication, for the gods are just; + For their own honour will they clear the guiltless; + Sooner or later punish'd for her crime, + Phaedra will not escape the shame she merits. + I ask no other favour than your silence; + In all besides I give my wrath free scope. + Make your escape from this captivity, + Be bold to bear me company in flight; + Linger not here on this accursed soil, + Where virtue breathes a pestilential air. + To cover your departure take advantage + Of this confusion, caused by my disgrace. + The means of flight are ready, be assured; + You have as yet no other guards than mine. + Pow'rful defenders will maintain our quarrel; + Argos spreads open arms, and Sparta calls us. + Let us appeal for justice to our friends, + Nor suffer Phaedra, in a common ruin + Joining us both, to hunt us from the throne, + And aggrandise her son by robbing us. + Embrace this happy opportunity: + What fear restrains? You seem to hesitate. + Your interest alone prompts me to urge + Boldness. When I am all on fire, how comes it + That you are ice? Fear you to follow then + A banish'd man? + + ARICIA + Ah, dear to me would be + Such exile! With what joy, my fate to yours + United, could I live, by all the world + Forgotten! but not yet has that sweet tie + Bound us together. How then can I steal + Away with you? I know the strictest honour + Forbids me not out of your father's hands + To free myself; this is no parent's home, + And flight is lawful when one flies from tyrants. + But you, Sir, love me; and my virtue shrinks— + + HIPPOLYTUS + No, no, your reputation is to me + As dear as to yourself. A nobler purpose + Brings me to you. Fly from your foes, and follow + A husband. Heav'n, that sends us these misfortunes, + Sets free from human instruments the pledge + Between us. Torches do not always light + The face of Hymen. + At the gates of Troezen, + 'Mid ancient tombs where princes of my race + Lie buried, stands a temple, ne'er approach'd + By perjurers, where mortals dare not make + False oaths, for instant punishment befalls + The guilty. Falsehood knows no stronger check + Than what is present there—the fear of death + That cannot be avoided. Thither then + We'll go, if you consent, and swear to love + For ever, take the guardian god to witness + Our solemn vows, and his paternal care + Entreat. I will invoke the name of all + The holiest Pow'rs; chaste Dian, and the Queen + Of Heav'n, yea all the gods who know my heart + Will guarantee my sacred promises. + + ARICIA + The King draws near. Depart,—make no delay. + To mask my flight, I linger yet one moment. + Go you; and leave with me some trusty guide, + To lead my timid footsteps to your side. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SCENE II + THESEUS, ARICIA, ISMENE +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + THESEUS + Ye gods, throw light upon my troubled mind, + Show me the truth which I am seeking here. + + ARICIA (aside to ISMENE) + Get ready, dear Ismene, for our flight. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SCENE III + THESEUS, ARICIA +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + THESEUS + Your colour comes and goes, you seem confused, + Madame! What business had my son with you? + + ARICIA + Sire, he was bidding me farewell for ever. + + THESEUS + Your eyes, it seems, can tame that stubborn pride; + And the first sighs he breathes are paid to you. + + ARICIA + I can't deny the truth; he has not, Sire, + Inherited your hatred and injustice; + He did not treat me like a criminal. + + THESEUS + That is to say, he swore eternal love. + Do not rely on that inconstant heart; + To others has he sworn as much before. + + ARICIA + He, Sire? + + THESEUS + You ought to check his roving taste. + How could you bear a partnership so vile? + + ARICIA + And how can you endure that vilest slanders + Should make a life so pure as black as pitch? + Have you so little knowledge of his heart? + Do you so ill distinguish between guilt + And innocence? What mist before your eyes + Blinds them to virtue so conspicuous? + Ah! 'tis too much to let false tongues defame him. + Repent; call back your murderous wishes, Sire; + Fear, fear lest Heav'n in its severity + Hate you enough to hear and grant your pray'rs. + Oft in their wrath the gods accept our victims, + And oftentimes chastise us with their gifts. + + THESEUS + No, vainly would you cover up his guilt. + Your love is blind to his depravity. + But I have witness irreproachable: + Tears have I seen, true tears, that may be trusted. + + ARICIA + Take heed, my lord. Your hands invincible + Have rid the world of monsters numberless; + But all are not destroy'd, one you have left + Alive—Your son forbids me to say more. + Knowing with what respect he still regards you, + I should too much distress him if I dared + Complete my sentence. I will imitate + His reverence, and, to keep silence, leave you. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SCENE IV +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + THESEUS (alone) + What is there in her mind? What meaning lurks + In speech begun but to be broken short? + Would both deceive me with a vain pretence? + Have they conspired to put me to the torture? + And yet, despite my stern severity, + What plaintive voice cries deep within my heart? + A secret pity troubles and alarms me. + Oenone shall be questioned once again, + I must have clearer light upon this crime. + Guards, bid Oenone come, and come alone. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SCENE V + THESEUS, PANOPE +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + PANOPE + I know not what the Queen intends to do, + But from her agitation dread the worst. + Fatal despair is painted on her features; + Death's pallor is already in her face. + Oenone, shamed and driven from her sight, + Has cast herself into the ocean depths. + None knows what prompted her to deed so rash; + And now the waves hide her from us for ever. + + THESEUS + What say you? + + PANOPE + Her sad fate seems to have added + Fresh trouble to the Queen's tempestuous soul. + Sometimes, to soothe her secret pain, she clasps + Her children close, and bathes them with her tears; + Then suddenly, the mother's love forgotten, + She thrusts them from her with a look of horror, + She wanders to and fro with doubtful steps; + Her vacant eye no longer knows us. Thrice + She wrote, and thrice did she, changing her mind, + Destroy the letter ere 'twas well begun. + Vouchsafe to see her, Sire: vouchsafe to help her. + + THESEUS + Heav'ns! Is Oenone dead, and Phaedra bent + On dying too? Oh, call me back my son! + Let him defend himself, and I am ready + To hear him. Be not hasty to bestow + Thy fatal bounty, Neptune; let my pray'rs + Rather remain ever unheard. Too soon + I lifted cruel hands, believing lips + That may have lied! Ah! What despair may follow! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SCENE VI + THESEUS, THERAMENES +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + THESEUS + Theramenes, is't thou? Where is my son? + I gave him to thy charge from tenderest childhood. + But whence these tears that overflow thine eyes? + How is it with my son? + + THERAMENES + Concern too late! + Affection vain! Hippolytus is dead. + + THESEUS + Gods! + + THERAMENES + I have seen the flow'r of all mankind + Cut off, and I am bold to say that none + Deserved it less. + + THESEUS + What! My son dead! When I + Was stretching out my arms to him, has Heav'n + Hasten'd his end? What was this sudden stroke? + + THERAMENES + Scarce had we pass'd out of the gates of Troezen, + He silent in his chariot, and his guards + Downcast and silent too, around him ranged; + To the Mycenian road he turn'd his steeds, + Then, lost in thought, allow'd the reins to lie + Loose on their backs. His noble chargers, erst + So full of ardour to obey his voice, + With head depress'd and melancholy eye + Seem'd now to mark his sadness and to share it. + A frightful cry, that issues from the deep, + With sudden discord rends the troubled air; + And from the bosom of the earth a groan + Is heard in answer to that voice of terror. + Our blood is frozen at our very hearts; + With bristling manes the list'ning steeds stand still. + Meanwhile upon the watery plain there rises + A mountain billow with a mighty crest + Of foam, that shoreward rolls, and, as it breaks + Before our eyes vomits a furious monster. + With formidable horns its brow is arm'd, + And all its body clothed with yellow scales, + In front a savage bull, behind a dragon + Turning and twisting in impatient rage. + Its long continued bellowings make the shore + Tremble; the sky seems horror-struck to see it; + The earth with terror quakes; its poisonous breath + Infects the air. The wave that brought it ebbs + In fear. All fly, forgetful of the courage + That cannot aid, and in a neighbouring temple + Take refuge—all save bold Hippolytus. + A hero's worthy son, he stays his steeds, + Seizes his darts, and, rushing forward, hurls + A missile with sure aim that wounds the monster + Deep in the flank. With rage and pain it springs + E'en to the horses' feet, and, roaring, falls, + Writhes in the dust, and shows a fiery throat + That covers them with flames, and blood, and smoke. + Fear lends them wings; deaf to his voice for once, + And heedless of the curb, they onward fly. + Their master wastes his strength in efforts vain; + With foam and blood each courser's bit is red. + Some say a god, amid this wild disorder, + Was seen with goads pricking their dusty flanks. + O'er jagged rocks they rush urged on by terror; + Crash! goes the axle-tree. Th' intrepid youth + Sees his car broken up, flying to pieces; + He falls himself entangled in the reins. + Pardon my grief. That cruel spectacle + Will be for me a source of endless tears. + I saw thy hapless son, I saw him, Sire, + Drag'd by the horses that his hands had fed, + Pow'rless to check their fierce career, his voice + But adding to their fright, his body soon + One mass of wounds. Our cries of anguish fill + The plain. At last they slacken their swift pace, + Then stop, not far from those old tombs that mark + Where lie the ashes of his royal sires. + Panting I thither run, and after me + His guard, along the track stain'd with fresh blood + That reddens all the rocks; caught in the briers + Locks of his hair hang dripping, gory spoils! + I come, I call him. Stretching forth his hand, + He opens his dying eyes, soon closed again. + "The gods have robb'd me of a guiltless life," + I hear him say: "Take care of sad Aricia + When I am dead. Dear friend, if e'er my father + Mourn, undeceived, his son's unhappy fate + Falsely accused; to give my spirit peace, + Tell him to treat his captive tenderly, + And to restore—" With that the hero's breath + Fails, and a mangled corpse lies in my arms, + A piteous object, trophy of the wrath + Of Heav'n—so changed, his father would not know him. + + THESEUS + Alas, my son! Dear hope for ever lost! + The ruthless gods have served me but too well. + For what a life of anguish and remorse + Am I reserved! + + THERAMENES + Aricia at that instant, + Flying from you, comes timidly, to take him + For husband, there, in presence of the gods. + Thus drawing nigh, she sees the grass all red + And reeking, sees (sad sight for lover's eye!) + Hippolytus stretch'd there, pale and disfigured. + But, for a time doubtful of her misfortune, + Unrecognized the hero she adores, + She looks, and asks—"Where is Hippolytus?" + Only too sure at last that he lies there + Before her, with sad eyes that silently + Reproach the gods, she shudders, groans, and falls + Swooning and all but lifeless, at his feet. + Ismene, all in tears, kneels down beside her, + And calls her back to life—life that is naught + But sense of pain. And I, to whom this light + Is darkness now, come to discharge the duty + The hero has imposed on me, to tell thee + His last request—a melancholy task. + But hither comes his mortal enemy. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SCENE VII + THESEUS, PHAEDRA, THERAMENES, PANOPE, GUARDS +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + THESEUS + Madame, you've triumph'd, and my son is kill'd! + Ah, but what room have I for fear! How justly + Suspicion racks me that in blaming him + I err'd! But he is dead; accept your victim; + Rightly or wrongly slain, let your heart leap + For joy. My eyes shall be for ever blind: + Since you accuse him, I'll believe him guilty. + His death affords me cause enough for tears, + Without a foolish search for further light + Which, pow'rless to restore him to my grief, + Might only serve to make me more unhappy, + Far from this shore and far from you I'll fly, + For here the image of my mangled son + Would haunt my memory and drive me mad. + From the whole world I fain would banish me, + For all the world seems to rise up in judgment + Against me; and my very glory weights + My punishment; for, were my name less known + 'Twere easier to hide me. All the favours + The gods have granted me I mourn and hate, + Nor will I importune them with vain pray'rs + Henceforth for ever. Give me what they may, + What they have taken will all else outweigh. + + PHAEDRA + Theseus, I cannot hear you and keep silence: + I must repair the wrong that he has suffer'd— + Your son was innocent. + + THESEUS + Unhappy father! + And it was on your word that I condemn'd him! + Think you such cruelty can be excused— + + PHAEDRA + Moments to me are precious; hear me, Theseus. + 'Twas I who cast an eye of lawless passion + On chaste and dutiful Hippolytus. + Heav'n in my bosom kindled baleful fire, + And vile Oenone's cunning did the rest. + She fear'd Hippolytus, knowing my madness, + Would make that passion known which he regarded + With horror; so advantage of my weakness + She took, and hasten'd to accuse him first. + For that she has been punish'd, tho' too mildly; + Seeking to shun my wrath she cast herself + Beneath the waves. The sword ere now had cut + My thread of life, but slander'd innocence + Made its cry heard, and I resolved to die + In a more lingering way, confessing first + My penitence to you. A poison, brought + To Athens by Medea, runs thro' my veins. + Already in my heart the venom works, + Infusing there a strange and fatal chill; + Already as thro' thickening mists I see + The spouse to whom my presence is an outrage; + Death, from mine eyes veiling the light of heav'n, + Restores its purity that they defiled. + + PANOPE + She dies my lord! + + THESEUS + Would that the memory + Of her disgraceful deed could perish with her! + Ah, disabused too late! Come, let us go, + And with the blood of mine unhappy son + Mingle our tears, clasping his dear remains, + In deep repentance for a pray'r detested. + Let him be honour'd as he well deserves; + And, to appease his sore offended ghost, + Be her near kinsmen's guilt whate'er it may, + Aricia shall be held my daughter from to-day. +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Phaedra, by Jean Baptiste Racine + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PHAEDRA *** + +***** This file should be named 1977-h.htm or 1977-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/7/1977/ + +Produced by Dagny, John Bickers, and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Phaedra + +Author: Jean Baptiste Racine + +Translator: Robert Bruce Boswell + +Posting Date: October 30, 2008 [EBook #1977] +Release Date: November, 1999 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PHAEDRA *** + + + + +Produced by Dagny, and John Bickers + + + + + +PHAEDRA + +By Jean Baptiste Racine + + +Translated by Robert Bruce Boswell + + + + +INTRODUCTORY NOTE + +JEAN BAPTISTE RACINE, the younger contemporary of Corneille, and his +rival for supremacy in French classical tragedy, was born at +Ferte-Milon, December 21, 1639. He was educated at the College of +Beauvais, at the great Jansenist school at Port Royal, and at the +College d'Harcourt. He attracted notice by an ode written for the +marriage of Louis XIV in 1660, and made his first really great dramatic +success with his "Andromaque." His tragic masterpieces include +"Britannicus," "Berenice," "Bajazet," "Mithridate," "Iphigenie," and +"Phaedre," all written between 1669 and 1677. Then for some years he +gave up dramatic composition, disgusted by the intrigues of enemies who +sought to injure his career by exalting above him an unworthy rival. In +1689 he resumed his work under the persuasion of Mme. de Maintenon, and +produced "Esther" and "Athalie," the latter ranking among his finest +productions, although it did not receive public recognition until some +time after his death in 1699. Besides his tragedies, Racine wrote one +comedy, "Les Plaideurs," four hymns of great beauty, and a history of +Port Royal. + +The external conventions of classical tragedy which had been +established by Corneille, Racine did not attempt to modify. His study +of the Greek tragedians and his own taste led him to submit willingly +to the rigor and simplicity of form which were the fundamental marks +of the classical ideal. It was in his treatment of character that he +differed most from his predecessor; for whereas, as we have seen, +Corneille represented his leading figures as heroically subduing +passion by force of will, Racine represents his as driven by almost +uncontrollable passion. Thus his creations appeal to the modern reader +as more warmly human; their speech, if less exalted, is simpler and +more natural; and he succeeds more brilliantly with his portraits of +women than with those of men. + +All these characteristics are exemplified in "Phaedre," the tragedy of +Racine which has made an appeal to the widest audience. To the legend +as treated by Euripides, Racine added the love of Hippolytus for +Aricia, and thus supplied a motive for Phaedra's jealousy, and at the +same time he made the nurse instead of Phaedra the calumniator of his +son to Theseus. + + + + + +PHAEDRA + + + + +CHARACTERS + + THESEUS, son of Aegeus and King of Athens. + PHAEDRA, wife of Theseus and Daughter of Minos and Pasiphae. + HIPPOLYTUS, son of Theseus and Antiope, Queen of the Amazons. + ARICIA, Princess of the Blood Royal of Athens. + OENONE, nurse of Phaedra. + THERAMENES, tutor of Hippolytus. + ISMENE, bosom friend of Aricia. + PANOPE, waiting-woman of Phaedra. + GUARDS. + + +The scene is laid at Troezen, a town of the Peloponnesus. + + + + +ACT I + + SCENE I + HIPPOLYTUS, THERAMENES + + + HIPPOLYTUS + My mind is settled, dear Theramenes, + And I can stay no more in lovely Troezen. + In doubt that racks my soul with mortal anguish, + I grow ashamed of such long idleness. + Six months and more my father has been gone, + And what may have befallen one so dear + I know not, nor what corner of the earth + Hides him. + + THERAMENES + And where, prince, will you look for him? + Already, to content your just alarm, + Have I not cross'd the seas on either side + Of Corinth, ask'd if aught were known of Theseus + Where Acheron is lost among the Shades, + Visited Elis, doubled Toenarus, + And sail'd into the sea that saw the fall + Of Icarus? Inspired with what new hope, + Under what favour'd skies think you to trace + His footsteps? Who knows if the King, your father, + Wishes the secret of his absence known? + Perchance, while we are trembling for his life, + The hero calmly plots some fresh intrigue, + And only waits till the deluded fair-- + + HIPPOLYTUS + Cease, dear Theramenes, respect the name + Of Theseus. Youthful errors have been left + Behind, and no unworthy obstacle + Detains him. Phaedra long has fix'd a heart + Inconstant once, nor need she fear a rival. + In seeking him I shall but do my duty, + And leave a place I dare no longer see. + + THERAMENES + Indeed! When, prince, did you begin to dread + These peaceful haunts, so dear to happy childhood, + Where I have seen you oft prefer to stay, + Rather than meet the tumult and the pomp + Of Athens and the court? What danger shun you, + Or shall I say what grief? + + HIPPOLYTUS + That happy time + Is gone, and all is changed, since to these shores + The gods sent Phaedra. + + THERAMENES + I perceive the cause + Of your distress. It is the queen whose sight + Offends you. With a step-dame's spite she schemed + Your exile soon as she set eyes on you. + But if her hatred is not wholly vanish'd, + It has at least taken a milder aspect. + Besides, what danger can a dying woman, + One too who longs for death, bring on your head? + Can Phaedra, sick'ning of a dire disease + Of which she will not speak, weary of life + And of herself, form any plots against you? + + HIPPOLYTUS + It is not her vain enmity I fear, + Another foe alarms Hippolytus. + I fly, it must be own'd, from young Aricia, + The sole survivor of an impious race. + + THERAMENES + What! You become her persecutor too! + The gentle sister of the cruel sons + Of Pallas shared not in their perfidy; + Why should you hate such charming innocence? + + HIPPOLYTUS + I should not need to fly, if it were hatred. + + THERAMENES + May I, then, learn the meaning of your flight? + Is this the proud Hippolytus I see, + Than whom there breathed no fiercer foe to love + And to that yoke which Theseus has so oft + Endured? And can it be that Venus, scorn'd + So long, will justify your sire at last? + Has she, then, setting you with other mortals, + Forced e'en Hippolytus to offer incense + Before her? Can you love? + + HIPPOLYTUS + Friend, ask me not. + You, who have known my heart from infancy + And all its feelings of disdainful pride, + Spare me the shame of disavowing all + That I profess'd. Born of an Amazon, + The wildness that you wonder at I suck'd + With mother's milk. When come to riper age, + Reason approved what Nature had implanted. + Sincerely bound to me by zealous service, + You told me then the story of my sire, + And know how oft, attentive to your voice, + I kindled when I heard his noble acts, + As you described him bringing consolation + To mortals for the absence of Alcides, + The highways clear'd of monsters and of robbers, + Procrustes, Cercyon, Sciro, Sinnis slain, + The Epidaurian giant's bones dispersed, + Crete reeking with the blood of Minotaur. + But when you told me of less glorious deeds, + Troth plighted here and there and everywhere, + Young Helen stolen from her home at Sparta, + And Periboea's tears in Salamis, + With many another trusting heart deceived + Whose very names have 'scaped his memory, + Forsaken Ariadne to the rocks + Complaining, last this Phaedra, bound to him + By better ties,--you know with what regret + I heard and urged you to cut short the tale, + Happy had I been able to erase + From my remembrance that unworthy part + Of such a splendid record. I, in turn, + Am I too made the slave of love, and brought + To stoop so low? The more contemptible + That no renown is mine such as exalts + The name of Theseus, that no monsters quell'd + Have given me a right to share his weakness. + And if my pride of heart must needs be humbled, + Aricia should have been the last to tame it. + Was I beside myself to have forgotten + Eternal barriers of separation + Between us? By my father's stern command + Her brethren's blood must ne'er be reinforced + By sons of hers; he dreads a single shoot + From stock so guilty, and would fain with her + Bury their name, that, even to the tomb + Content to be his ward, for her no torch + Of Hymen may be lit. Shall I espouse + Her rights against my sire, rashly provoke + His wrath, and launch upon a mad career-- + + THERAMENES + The gods, dear prince, if once your hour is come, + Care little for the reasons that should guide us. + Wishing to shut your eyes, Theseus unseals them; + His hatred, stirring a rebellious flame + Within you, lends his enemy new charms. + And, after all, why should a guiltless passion + Alarm you? Dare you not essay its sweetness, + But follow rather a fastidious scruple? + Fear you to stray where Hercules has wander'd? + What heart so stout that Venus has not vanquish'd? + Where would you be yourself, so long her foe, + Had your own mother, constant in her scorn + Of love, ne'er glowed with tenderness for Theseus? + What boots it to affect a pride you feel not? + Confess it, all is changed; for some time past + You have been seldom seen with wild delight + Urging the rapid car along the strand, + Or, skilful in the art that Neptune taught, + Making th' unbroken steed obey the bit; + Less often have the woods return'd our shouts; + A secret burden on your spirits cast + Has dimm'd your eye. How can I doubt you love? + Vainly would you conceal the fatal wound. + Has not the fair Aricia touch'd your heart? + + HIPPOLYTUS + Theramenes, I go to find my father. + + THERAMENES + Will you not see the queen before you start, + My prince? + + HIPPOLYTUS + That is my purpose: you can tell her. + Yes, I will see her; duty bids me do it. + But what new ill vexes her dear Oenone? + + + + SCENE II + HIPPOLYTUS, OENONE, THERAMENES + + + OENONE + Alas, my lord, what grief was e'er like mine? + The queen has almost touch'd the gates of death. + Vainly close watch I keep by day and night, + E'en in my arms a secret malady + Slays her, and all her senses are disorder'd. + Weary yet restless from her couch she rises, + Pants for the outer air, but bids me see + That no one on her misery intrudes. + She comes. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Enough. She shall not be disturb'd, + Nor be confronted with a face she hates. + + + + SCENE III + PHAEDRA, OENONE + + + PHAEDRA + We have gone far enough. Stay, dear Oenone; + Strength fails me, and I needs must rest awhile. + My eyes are dazzled with this glaring light + So long unseen, my trembling knees refuse + Support. Ah me! + + OENONE + Would Heaven that our tears + Might bring relief! + + PHAEDRA + Ah, how these cumbrous gauds, + These veils oppress me! What officious hand + Has tied these knots, and gather'd o'er my brow + These clustering coils? How all conspires to add + To my distress! + + OENONE + What is one moment wish'd, + The next, is irksome. Did you not just now, + Sick of inaction, bid us deck you out, + And, with your former energy recall'd, + Desire to go abroad, and see the light + Of day once more? You see it, and would fain + Be hidden from the sunshine that you sought. + + PHAEDRA + Thou glorious author of a hapless race, + Whose daughter 'twas my mother's boast to be, + Who well may'st blush to see me in such plight, + For the last time I come to look on thee, + O Sun! + + OENONE + What! Still are you in love with death? + Shall I ne'er see you, reconciled to life, + Forego these cruel accents of despair? + + PHAEDRA + Would I were seated in the forest's shade! + When may I follow with delighted eye, + Thro' glorious dust flying in full career, + A chariot-- + + OENONE + Madam? + + PHAEDRA + Have I lost my senses? + What said I? and where am I? Whither stray + Vain wishes? Ah! The gods have made me mad. + I blush, Oenone, and confusion covers + My face, for I have let you see too clearly + The shame of grief that, in my own despite, + O'erflows these eyes of mine. + + OENONE + If you must blush, + Blush at a silence that inflames your woes. + Resisting all my care, deaf to my voice, + Will you have no compassion on yourself, + But let your life be ended in mid course? + What evil spell has drain'd its fountain dry? + Thrice have the shades of night obscured the heav'ns + Since sleep has enter'd thro' your eyes, and thrice + The dawn has chased the darkness thence, since food + Pass'd your wan lips, and you are faint and languid. + To what dread purpose is your heart inclined? + How dare you make attempts upon your life, + And so offend the gods who gave it you, + Prove false to Theseus and your marriage vows, + Ay, and betray your most unhappy children, + Bending their necks yourself beneath the yoke? + That day, be sure, which robs them of their mother, + Will give high hopes back to the stranger's son, + To that proud enemy of you and yours, + To whom an Amazon gave birth, I mean + Hippolytus-- + + PHAEDRA + Ye gods! + + OENONE + Ah, this reproach + Moves you! + + PHAEDRA + Unhappy woman, to what name + Gave your mouth utterance? + + OENONE + Your wrath is just. + 'Tis well that that ill-omen'd name can rouse + Such rage. Then live. Let love and duty urge + Their claims. Live, suffer not this son of Scythia, + Crushing your children 'neath his odious sway, + To rule the noble offspring of the gods, + The purest blood of Greece. Make no delay; + Each moment threatens death; quickly restore + Your shatter'd strength, while yet the torch of life + Holds out, and can be fann'd into a flame. + + PHAEDRA + Too long have I endured its guilt and shame! + + OENONE + Why? What remorse gnaws at your heart? What crime + Can have disturb'd you thus? Your hands are not + Polluted with the blood of innocence? + + PHAEDRA + Thanks be to Heav'n, my hands are free from stain. + Would that my soul were innocent as they! + + OENONE + What awful project have you then conceived, + Whereat your conscience should be still alarm'd? + + PHAEDRA + Have I not said enough? Spare me the rest. + I die to save myself a full confession. + + OENONE + Die then, and keep a silence so inhuman; + But seek some other hand to close your eyes. + Tho' but a spark of life remains within you, + My soul shall go before you to the Shades. + A thousand roads are always open thither; + Pain'd at your want of confidence, I'll choose + The shortest. Cruel one, when has my faith + Deceived you! Think how in my arms you lay + New born. For you, my country and my children + I have forsaken. Do you thus repay + My faithful service? + + PHAEDRA + What do you expect + From words so bitter? Were I to break silence + Horror would freeze your blood. + + OENONE + What can you say + To horrify me more than to behold + You die before my eyes? + + PHAEDRA + When you shall know + My crime, my death will follow none the less, + But with the added stain of guilt. + + OENONE + Dear Madam, + By all the tears that I have shed for you, + By these weak knees I clasp, relieve my mind + From torturing doubt. + + PHAEDRA + It is your wish. Then rise. + + OENONE + I hear you. Speak. + + PHAEDRA + Heav'ns! How shall I begin? + + OENONE + Dismiss vain fears, you wound me with distrust. + + PHAEDRA + O fatal animosity of Venus! + Into what wild distractions did she cast + My mother! + + OENONE + Be they blotted from remembrance, + And for all time to come buried in silence. + + PHAEDRA + My sister Ariadne, by what love + Were you betray'd to death, on lonely shores + Forsaken! + + OENONE + Madam, what deep-seated pain + Prompts these reproaches against all your kin? + + PHAEDRA + It is the will of Venus, and I perish, + Last, most unhappy of a family + Where all were wretched. + + OENONE + Do you love? + + PHAEDRA + I feel + All its mad fever. + + OENONE + Ah! For whom? + + PHAEDRA + Hear now + The crowning horror. Yes, I love--my lips + Tremble to say his name. + + OENONE + Whom? + + PHAEDRA + Know you him, + Son of the Amazon, whom I've oppress'd + So long? + + OENONE + Hippolytus? Great gods! + + PHAEDRA + 'Tis you + Have named him. + + OENONE + All my blood within my veins + Seems frozen. O despair! O cursed race! + Ill-omen'd journey! Land of misery! + Why did we ever reach thy dangerous shores? + + PHAEDRA + My wound is not so recent. Scarcely had I + Been bound to Theseus by the marriage yoke, + And happiness and peace seem'd well secured, + When Athens show'd me my proud enemy. + I look'd, alternately turn'd pale and blush'd + To see him, and my soul grew all distraught; + A mist obscured my vision, and my voice + Falter'd, my blood ran cold, then burn'd like fire; + Venus I felt in all my fever'd frame, + Whose fury had so many of my race + Pursued. With fervent vows I sought to shun + Her torments, built and deck'd for her a shrine, + And there, 'mid countless victims did I seek + The reason I had lost; but all for naught, + No remedy could cure the wounds of love! + In vain I offer'd incense on her altars; + When I invoked her name my heart adored + Hippolytus, before me constantly; + And when I made her altars smoke with victims, + 'Twas for a god whose name I dared not utter. + I fled his presence everywhere, but found him-- + O crowning horror!--in his father's features. + Against myself, at last, I raised revolt, + And stirr'd my courage up to persecute + The enemy I loved. To banish him + I wore a step--dame's harsh and jealous carriage, + With ceaseless cries I clamour'd for his exile, + Till I had torn him from his father's arms. + I breathed once more, Oenone; in his absence + My days flow'd on less troubled than before, + And innocent. Submissive to my husband, + I hid my grief, and of our fatal marriage + Cherish'd the fruits. Vain caution! Cruel Fate! + Brought hither by my spouse himself, I saw + Again the enemy whom I had banish'd, + And the old wound too quickly bled afresh. + No longer is it love hid in my heart, + But Venus in her might seizing her prey. + I have conceived just terror for my crime; + I hate my life, and hold my love in horror. + Dying I wish'd to keep my fame unsullied, + And bury in the grave a guilty passion; + But I have been unable to withstand + Tears and entreaties, I have told you all; + Content, if only, as my end draws near, + You do not vex me with unjust reproaches, + Nor with vain efforts seek to snatch from death + The last faint lingering sparks of vital breath. + + + + SCENE IV + PHAEDRA, OENONE, PANOPE + + + PANOPE + Fain would I hide from you tidings so sad, + But 'tis my duty, Madam, to reveal them. + The hand of death has seized your peerless husband, + And you are last to hear of this disaster. + + OENONE + What say you, Panope? + + PANOPE + The queen, deceived + By a vain trust in Heav'n, begs safe return + For Theseus, while Hippolytus his son + Learns of his death from vessels that are now + In port. + + PHAEDRA + Ye gods! + + PANOPE + Divided counsels sway + The choice of Athens; some would have the prince, + Your child, for master; others, disregarding + The laws, dare to support the stranger's son. + 'Tis even said that a presumptuous faction + Would crown Aricia and the house of Pallas. + I deem'd it right to warn you of this danger. + Hippolytus already is prepared + To start, and should he show himself at Athens, + 'Tis to be fear'd the fickle crowd will all + Follow his lead. + + OENONE + Enough. The queen, who hears you, + By no means will neglect this timely warning. + + + + SCENE V + PHAEDRA, OENONE + + + OENONE + Dear lady, I had almost ceased to urge + The wish that you should live, thinking to follow + My mistress to the tomb, from which my voice + Had fail'd to turn you; but this new misfortune + Alters the aspect of affairs, and prompts + Fresh measures. Madam, Theseus is no more, + You must supply his place. He leaves a son, + A slave, if you should die, but, if you live, + A King. On whom has he to lean but you? + No hand but yours will dry his tears. Then live + For him, or else the tears of innocence + Will move the gods, his ancestors, to wrath + Against his mother. Live, your guilt is gone, + No blame attaches to your passion now. + The King's decease has freed you from the bonds + That made the crime and horror of your love. + Hippolytus no longer need be dreaded, + Him you may see henceforth without reproach. + It may be, that, convinced of your aversion, + He means to head the rebels. Undeceive him, + Soften his callous heart, and bend his pride. + King of this fertile land, in Troezen here + His portion lies; but as he knows, the laws + Give to your son the ramparts that Minerva + Built and protects. A common enemy + Threatens you both, unite them to oppose + Aricia. + + PHAEDRA + To your counsel I consent. + Yes, I will live, if life can be restored, + If my affection for a son has pow'r + To rouse my sinking heart at such a dangerous hour. + + + + +ACT II + + SCENE I + ARICIA, ISMENE + + + ARICIA + Hippolytus request to see me here! + Hippolytus desire to bid farewell! + Is't true, Ismene? Are you not deceived? + + ISMENE + This is the first result of Theseus' death. + Prepare yourself to see from every side. + Hearts turn towards you that were kept away + By Theseus. Mistress of her lot at last, + Aricia soon shall find all Greece fall low, + To do her homage. + + ARICIA + 'Tis not then, Ismene, + An idle tale? Am I no more a slave? + Have I no enemies? + + ISMENE + The gods oppose + Your peace no longer, and the soul of Theseus + Is with your brothers. + + ARICIA + Does the voice of fame + Tell how he died? + + ISMENE + Rumours incredible + Are spread. Some say that, seizing a new bride, + The faithless husband by the waves was swallow'd. + Others affirm, and this report prevails, + That with Pirithous to the world below + He went, and saw the shores of dark Cocytus, + Showing himself alive to the pale ghosts; + But that he could not leave those gloomy realms, + Which whoso enters there abides for ever. + + ARICIA + Shall I believe that ere his destined hour + A mortal may descend into the gulf + Of Hades? What attraction could o'ercome + Its terrors? + + ISMENE + He is dead, and you alone + Doubt it. The men of Athens mourn his loss. + Troezen already hails Hippolytus + As King. And Phaedra, fearing for her son, + Asks counsel of the friends who share her trouble, + Here in this palace. + + ARICIA + Will Hippolytus, + Think you, prove kinder than his sire, make light + My chains, and pity my misfortunes? + + ISMENE + Yes, + I think so, Madam. + + ARICIA + Ah, you know him not + Or you would never deem so hard a heart + Can pity feel, or me alone except + From the contempt in which he holds our sex. + Has he not long avoided every spot + Where we resort? + + ISMENE + I know what tales are told + Of proud Hippolytus, but I have seen + Him near you, and have watch'd with curious eye + How one esteem'd so cold would bear himself. + Little did his behavior correspond + With what I look'd for; in his face confusion + Appear'd at your first glance, he could not turn + His languid eyes away, but gazed on you. + Love is a word that may offend his pride, + But what the tongue disowns, looks can betray. + + ARICIA + How eagerly my heart hears what you say, + Tho' it may be delusion, dear Ismene! + Did it seem possible to you, who know me, + That I, sad sport of a relentless Fate, + Fed upon bitter tears by night and day, + Could ever taste the maddening draught of love? + The last frail offspring of a royal race, + Children of Earth, I only have survived + War's fury. Cut off in the flow'r of youth, + Mown by the sword, six brothers have I lost, + The hope of an illustrious house, whose blood + Earth drank with sorrow, near akin to his + Whom she herself produced. Since then, you know + How thro' all Greece no heart has been allow'd + To sigh for me, lest by a sister's flame + The brothers' ashes be perchance rekindled. + You know, besides, with what disdain I view'd + My conqueror's suspicions and precautions, + And how, oppos'd as I have ever been + To love, I often thank'd the King's injustice + Which happily confirm'd my inclination. + But then I never had beheld his son. + Not that, attracted merely by the eye, I + love him for his beauty and his grace, + Endowments which he owes to Nature's bounty, + Charms which he seems to know not or to scorn. + I love and prize in him riches more rare, + The virtues of his sire, without his faults. + I love, as I must own, that generous pride + Which ne'er has stoop'd beneath the amorous yoke. + Phaedra reaps little glory from a lover + So lavish of his sighs; I am too proud + To share devotion with a thousand others, + Or enter where the door is always open. + But to make one who ne'er has stoop'd before + Bend his proud neck, to pierce a heart of stone, + To bind a captive whom his chains astonish, + Who vainly 'gainst a pleasing yoke rebels,-- + That piques my ardour, and I long for that. + 'Twas easier to disarm the god of strength + Than this Hippolytus, for Hercules + Yielded so often to the eyes of beauty, + As to make triumph cheap. But, dear Ismene, + I take too little heed of opposition + Beyond my pow'r to quell, and you may hear me, + Humbled by sore defeat, upbraid the pride + I now admire. What! Can he love? and I + Have had the happiness to bend-- + + ISMENE + He comes + Yourself shall hear him. + + + + SCENE II + HIPPOLYTUS, ARICIA, ISMENE + + + HIPPOLYTUS + Lady, ere I go + My duty bids me tell you of your change + Of fortune. My worst fears are realized; + My sire is dead. Yes, his protracted absence + Was caused as I foreboded. Death alone, + Ending his toils, could keep him from the world + Conceal'd so long. The gods at last have doom'd + Alcides' friend, companion, and successor. + I think your hatred, tender to his virtues, + Can hear such terms of praise without resentment, + Knowing them due. One hope have I that soothes + My sorrow: I can free you from restraint. + Lo, I revoke the laws whose rigour moved + My pity; you are at your own disposal, + Both heart and hand; here, in my heritage, + In Troezen, where my grandsire Pittheus reign'd + Of yore and I am now acknowledged King, + I leave you free, free as myself,--and more. + + ARICIA + Your kindness is too great, 'tis overwhelming. + Such generosity, that pays disgrace + With honour, lends more force than you can think + To those harsh laws from which you would release me. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Athens, uncertain how to fill the throne + Of Theseus, speaks of you, anon of me, + And then of Phaedra's son. + + ARICIA + Of me, my lord? + + HIPPOLYTUS + I know myself excluded by strict law: + Greece turns to my reproach a foreign mother. + But if my brother were my only rival, + My rights prevail o'er his clearly enough + To make me careless of the law's caprice. + My forwardness is check'd by juster claims: + To you I yield my place, or, rather, own + That it is yours by right, and yours the sceptre, + As handed down from Earth's great son, Erechtheus. + Adoption placed it in the hands of Aegeus: + Athens, by him protected and increased, + Welcomed a king so generous as my sire, + And left your hapless brothers in oblivion. + Now she invites you back within her walls; + Protracted strife has cost her groans enough, + Her fields are glutted with your kinsmen's blood + Fatt'ning the furrows out of which it sprung + At first. I rule this Troezen; while the son + Of Phaedra has in Crete a rich domain. + Athens is yours. I will do all I can + To join for you the votes divided now + Between us. + + ARICIA + Stunn'd at all I hear, my lord, + I fear, I almost fear a dream deceives me. + Am I indeed awake? Can I believe + Such generosity? What god has put it + Into your heart? Well is the fame deserved + That you enjoy! That fame falls short of truth! + Would you for me prove traitor to yourself? + Was it not boon enough never to hate me, + So long to have abstain'd from harbouring + The enmity-- + + HIPPOLYTUS + To hate you? I, to hate you? + However darkly my fierce pride was painted, + Do you suppose a monster gave me birth? + What savage temper, what envenom'd hatred + Would not be mollified at sight of you? + Could I resist the soul-bewitching charm-- + + ARICIA + Why, what is this, Sir? + + HIPPOLYTUS + I have said too much + Not to say more. Prudence in vain resists + The violence of passion. I have broken + Silence at last, and I must tell you now + The secret that my heart can hold no longer. + You see before you an unhappy instance + Of hasty pride, a prince who claims compassion + I, who, so long the enemy of Love, + Mock'd at his fetters and despised his captives, + Who, pitying poor mortals that were shipwreck'd, + In seeming safety view'd the storms from land, + Now find myself to the same fate exposed, + Toss'd to and fro upon a sea of troubles! + My boldness has been vanquish'd in a moment, + And humbled is the pride wherein I boasted. + For nearly six months past, ashamed, despairing, + Bearing where'er I go the shaft that rends + My heart, I struggle vainly to be free + From you and from myself; I shun you, present; + Absent, I find you near; I see your form + In the dark forest depths; the shades of night, + Nor less broad daylight, bring back to my view + The charms that I avoid; all things conspire + To make Hippolytus your slave. For fruit + Of all my bootless sighs, I fail to find + My former self. My bow and javelins + Please me no more, my chariot is forgotten, + With all the Sea God's lessons; and the woods + Echo my groans instead of joyous shouts + Urging my fiery steeds. + + Hearing this tale + Of passion so uncouth, you blush perchance + At your own handiwork. With what wild words + I offer you my heart, strange captive held + By silken jess! But dearer in your eyes + Should be the offering, that this language comes + Strange to my lips; reject not vows express'd + So ill, which but for you had ne'er been form'd. + + + + SCENE III + HIPPOLYTUS, ARICIA, THERAMENES, ISMENE + + + THERAMENES + Prince, the Queen comes. I herald her approach. + 'Tis you she seeks. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Me? + + THERAMENES + What her thought may be + I know not. But I speak on her behalf. + She would converse with you ere you go hence. + + HIPPOLYTUS + What shall I say to her? Can she expect-- + + ARICIA + You cannot, noble Prince, refuse to hear her, + Howe'er convinced she is your enemy, + Some shade of pity to her tears is due. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Shall we part thus? and will you let me go, + Not knowing if my boldness has offended + The goddess I adore? Whether this heart, + Left in your hands-- + + ARICIA + Go, Prince, pursue the schemes + Your generous soul dictates, make Athens own + My sceptre. All the gifts you offer me + Will I accept, but this high throne of empire + Is not the one most precious in my sight. + + + + SCENE IV + HIPPOLYTUS, THERAMENES + + + HIPPOLYTUS + Friend, is all ready? + But the Queen approaches. + Go, see the vessel in fit trim to sail. + Haste, bid the crew aboard, and hoist the signal: + Then soon return, and so deliver me + From interview most irksome. + + + + SCENE V + PHAEDRA, HIPPOLYTUS, OENONE + + + PHAEDRA (to OENONE) + There I see him! + My blood forgets to flow, my tongue to speak + What I am come to say. + + OENONE + Think of your son, + How all his hopes depend on you. + + PHAEDRA + I hear + You leave us, and in haste. I come to add + My tears to your distress, and for a son + Plead my alarm. No more has he a father, + And at no distant day my son must witness + My death. Already do a thousand foes + Threaten his youth. You only can defend him + But in my secret heart remorse awakes, + And fear lest I have shut your ears against + His cries. I tremble lest your righteous anger + Visit on him ere long the hatred earn'd + By me, his mother. + + HIPPOLYTUS + No such base resentment, + Madam, is mine. + + PHAEDRA + I could not blame you, Prince, + If you should hate me. I have injured you: + So much you know, but could not read my heart. + T' incur your enmity has been mine aim. + The self-same borders could not hold us both; + In public and in private I declared + Myself your foe, and found no peace till seas + Parted us from each other. I forbade + Your very name to be pronounced before me. + And yet if punishment should be proportion'd + To the offence, if only hatred draws + Your hatred, never woman merited + More pity, less deserved your enmity. + + HIPPOLYTUS + A mother jealous of her children's rights + Seldom forgives the offspring of a wife + Who reign'd before her. Harassing suspicions + Are common sequels of a second marriage. + Of me would any other have been jealous + No less than you, perhaps more violent. + + PHAEDRA + Ah, Prince, how Heav'n has from the general law + Made me exempt, be that same Heav'n my witness! + Far different is the trouble that devours me! + + HIPPOLYTUS + This is no time for self-reproaches, Madam. + It may be that your husband still beholds + The light, and Heav'n may grant him safe return, + In answer to our prayers. His guardian god + Is Neptune, ne'er by him invoked in vain. + + PHAEDRA + He who has seen the mansions of the dead + Returns not thence. Since to those gloomy shores + Theseus is gone, 'tis vain to hope that Heav'n + May send him back. Prince, there is no release + From Acheron's greedy maw. And yet, methinks, + He lives, and breathes in you. I see him still + Before me, and to him I seem to speak; + My heart-- + Oh! I am mad; do what I will, + I cannot hide my passion. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Yes, I see + The strange effects of love. Theseus, tho' dead, + Seems present to your eyes, for in your soul + There burns a constant flame. + + PHAEDRA + Ah, yes for Theseus + I languish and I long, not as the Shades + Have seen him, of a thousand different forms + The fickle lover, and of Pluto's bride + The would-be ravisher, but faithful, proud + E'en to a slight disdain, with youthful charms + Attracting every heart, as gods are painted, + Or like yourself. He had your mien, your eyes, + Spoke and could blush like you, when to the isle + Of Crete, my childhood's home, he cross'd the waves, + Worthy to win the love of Minos' daughters. + What were you doing then? Why did he gather + The flow'r of Greece, and leave Hippolytus? + Oh, why were you too young to have embark'd + On board the ship that brought thy sire to Crete? + At your hands would the monster then have perish'd, + Despite the windings of his vast retreat. + To guide your doubtful steps within the maze + My sister would have arm'd you with the clue. + But no, therein would Phaedra have forestall'd her, + Love would have first inspired me with the thought; + And I it would have been whose timely aid + Had taught you all the labyrinth's crooked ways. + What anxious care a life so dear had cost me! + No thread had satisfied your lover's fears: + I would myself have wish'd to lead the way, + And share the peril you were bound to face; + Phaedra with you would have explored the maze, + With you emerged in safety, or have perish'd. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Gods! What is this I hear? Have you forgotten + That Theseus is my father and your husband? + + PHAEDRA + Why should you fancy I have lost remembrance + Thereof, and am regardless of mine honour? + + HIPPOLYTUS + Forgive me, Madam. With a blush I own + That I misconstrued words of innocence. + For very shame I cannot bear your sight + Longer. I go-- + + PHAEDRA + Ah! cruel Prince, too well + You understood me. I have said enough + To save you from mistake. I love. But think not + That at the moment when I love you most + I do not feel my guilt; no weak compliance + Has fed the poison that infects my brain. + The ill-starr'd object of celestial vengeance, + I am not so detestable to you + As to myself. The gods will bear me witness, + Who have within my veins kindled this fire, + The gods, who take a barbarous delight + In leading a poor mortal's heart astray. + Do you yourself recall to mind the past: + 'Twas not enough for me to fly, I chased you + Out of the country, wishing to appear + Inhuman, odious; to resist you better, + I sought to make you hate me. All in vain! + Hating me more I loved you none the less: + New charms were lent to you by your misfortunes. + I have been drown'd in tears, and scorch'd by fire; + Your own eyes might convince you of the truth, + If for one moment you could look at me. + What is't I say? Think you this vile confession + That I have made is what I meant to utter? + Not daring to betray a son for whom + I trembled, 'twas to beg you not to hate him + I came. Weak purpose of a heart too full + Of love for you to speak of aught besides! + Take your revenge, punish my odious passion; + Prove yourself worthy of your valiant sire, + And rid the world of an offensive monster! + Does Theseus' widow dare to love his son? + The frightful monster! Let her not escape you! + Here is my heart. This is the place to strike. + Already prompt to expiate its guilt, + I feel it leap impatiently to meet + Your arm. Strike home. Or, if it would disgrace you + To steep your hand in such polluted blood, + If that were punishment too mild to slake + Your hatred, lend me then your sword, if not + Your arm. Quick, give't. + + OENONE + What, Madam, will you do? + Just gods! But someone comes. Go, fly from shame, + You cannot 'scape if seen by any thus. + + + + SCENE VI + HIPPOLYTUS, THERAMENES + + + THERAMENES + Is that the form of Phaedra that I see + Hurried away? What mean these signs of sorrow? + Where is your sword? Why are you pale, confused? + + HIPPOLYTUS + Friend, let us fly. I am, indeed, confounded + With horror and astonishment extreme. + Phaedra--but no; gods, let this dreadful secret + Remain for ever buried in oblivion. + + THERAMENES + The ship is ready if you wish to sail. + But Athens has already giv'n her vote; + Their leaders have consulted all her tribes; + Your brother is elected, Phaedra wins. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Phaedra? + + THERAMENES + A herald, charged with a commission + From Athens, has arrived to place the reins + Of power in her hands. Her son is King. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Ye gods, who know her, do ye thus reward + Her virtue? + + THERAMENES + A faint rumour meanwhile whispers + That Theseus is not dead, but in Epirus + Has shown himself. But, after all my search, + I know too well-- + + HIPPOLYTUS + Let nothing be neglected. + This rumour must be traced back to its source. + If it be found unworthy of belief, + Let us set sail, and cost whate'er it may, + To hands deserving trust the sceptre's sway. + + + + +ACT III + + Scene I + PHAEDRA, OENONE + + + PHAEDRA + Ah! Let them take elsewhere the worthless honours + They bring me. Why so urgent I should see them? + What flattering balm can soothe my wounded heart? + Far rather hide me: I have said too much. + My madness has burst forth like streams in flood, + And I have utter'd what should ne'er have reach'd + His ear. Gods! How he heard me! How reluctant + To catch my meaning, dull and cold as marble, + And eager only for a quick retreat! + How oft his blushes made my shame the deeper! + Why did you turn me from the death I sought? + Ah! When his sword was pointed to my bosom, + Did he grow pale, or try to snatch it from me? + That I had touch'd it was enough for him + To render it for ever horrible, + Leaving defilement on the hand that holds it. + + OENONE + Thus brooding on your bitter disappointment, + You only fan a fire that must be stifled. + Would it not be more worthy of the blood + Of Minos to find peace in nobler cares, + And, in defiance of a wretch who flies + From what he hates, reign, mount the proffer'd throne? + + PHAEDRA + I reign! Shall I the rod of empire sway, + When reason reigns no longer o'er myself? + When I have lost control of all my senses? + When 'neath a shameful yoke I scarce can breathe? + When I am dying? + + OENONE + Fly. + + PHAEDRA + I cannot leave him. + + OENONE + Dare you not fly from him you dared to banish? + + PHAEDRA + The time for that is past. He knows my frenzy. + I have o'erstepp'd the bounds of modesty, + And blazon'd forth my shame before his eyes. + Hope stole into my heart against my will. + Did you not rally my declining pow'rs? + Was it not you yourself recall'd my soul + When fluttering on my lips, and with your counsel, + Lent me fresh life, and told me I might love him? + + OENONE + Blame me or blame me not for your misfortunes, + Of what was I incapable, to save you? + But if your indignation e'er was roused + By insult, can you pardon his contempt? + How cruelly his eyes, severely fix'd, + Survey'd you almost prostrate at his feet! + How hateful then appear'd his savage pride! + Why did not Phaedra see him then as I + Beheld him? + + PHAEDRA + This proud mood that you resent + May yield to time. The rudeness of the forests + Where he was bred, inured to rigorous laws, + Clings to him still; love is a word he ne'er + Had heard before. It may be his surprise + Stunn'd him, and too much vehemence was shown + In all I said. + + OENONE + Remember that his mother + Was a barbarian. + + PHAEDRA + Scythian tho' she was, + She learned to love. + + OENONE + He has for all the sex + Hatred intense. + + PHAEDRA + Then in his heart no rival + Shall ever reign. Your counsel comes too late + Oenone, serve my madness, not my reason. + His heart is inaccessible to love. + Let us attack him where he has more feeling. + The charms of sovereignty appear'd to touch him; + He could not hide that he was drawn to Athens; + His vessels' prows were thither turn'd already, + All sail was set to scud before the breeze. + Go you on my behalf, to his ambition + Appeal, and let the prospect of the crown + Dazzle his eyes. The sacred diadem + Shall deck his brow, no higher honour mine + Than there to bind it. His shall be the pow'r + I cannot keep; and he shall teach my son + How to rule men. It may be he will deign + To be to him a father. Son and mother + He shall control. Try ev'ry means to move him; + Your words will find more favour than can mine. + Urge him with groans and tears; show Phaedra dying. + Nor blush to use the voice of supplication. + In you is my last hope; I'll sanction all + You say; and on the issue hangs my fate. + + + + Scene II + + + PHAEDRA (alone) + Venus implacable, who seest me shamed + And sore confounded, have I not enough + Been humbled? How can cruelty be stretch'd + Farther? Thy shafts have all gone home, and thou + Hast triumph'd. Would'st thou win a new renown? + Attack an enemy more contumacious: + Hippolytus neglects thee, braves thy wrath, + Nor ever at thine altars bow'd the knee. + Thy name offends his proud, disdainful ears. + Our interests are alike: avenge thyself, + Force him to love-- + But what is this? Oenone + Return'd already? He detests me then, + And will not hear you. + + + + SCENE III + PHAEDRA, OENONE + + + OENONE + Madam, you must stifle + A fruitless love. Recall your former virtue: + The king who was thought dead will soon appear + Before your eyes, Theseus has just arrived, + Theseus is here. The people flock to see him + With eager haste. I went by your command + To find the prince, when with a thousand shouts + The air was rent-- + + PHAEDRA + My husband is alive, + That is enough, Oenone. I have own'd + A passion that dishonours him. He lives: + I ask to know no more. + + OENONE + What? + + PHAEDRA + I foretold it, + But you refused to hear. Your tears prevail'd + Over my just remorse. Dying this morn, + I had deserved compassion; your advice + I took, and die dishonour'd. + + OENONE + Die? + + PHAEDRA + Just Heav'ns! + What have I done to-day? My husband comes, + With him his son: and I shall see the witness + Of my adulterous flame watch with what face + I greet his father, while my heart is big + With sighs he scorn'd, and tears that could not move him + Moisten mine eyes. Think you that his respect + For Theseus will induce him to conceal + My madness, nor disgrace his sire and king? + Will he be able to keep back the horror + He has for me? His silence would be vain. + I know my treason, and I lack the boldness + Of those abandon'd women who can taste + Tranquillity in crime, and show a forehead + All unabash'd. I recognize my madness, + Recall it all. These vaulted roofs, methinks, + These walls can speak, and, ready to accuse me, + Wait but my husband's presence to reveal + My perfidy. Death only can remove + This weight of horror. Is it such misfortune + To cease to live? Death causes no alarm + To misery. I only fear the name + That I shall leave behind me. For my sons + How sad a heritage! The blood of Jove + Might justly swell the pride that boasts descent + From Heav'n, but heavy weighs a mother's guilt + Upon her offspring. Yes, I dread the scorn + That will be cast on them, with too much truth, + For my disgrace. I tremble when I think + That, crush'd beneath that curse, they'll never dare + To raise their eyes. + + OENONE + Doubt not I pity both; + Never was fear more just than yours. Why, then, + Expose them to this ignominy? Why + Will you accuse yourself? You thus destroy + The only hope that's left; it will be said + That Phaedra, conscious of her perfidy, + Fled from her husband's sight. Hippolytus + Will be rejoiced that, dying, you should lend + His charge support. What can I answer him? + He'll find it easy to confute my tale, + And I shall hear him with an air of triumph + To every open ear repeat your shame. + Sooner than that may fire from heav'n consume me! + Deceive me not. Say, do you love him still? + How look you now on this contemptuous prince? + + PHAEDRA + As on a monster frightful to mine eyes. + + OENONE + Why yield him, then, an easy victory? + You fear him? Venture to accuse him first, + As guilty of the charge which he may bring + This day against you. Who can say 'tis false? + All tells against him: in your hands his sword + Happily left behind, your present trouble, + Your past distress, your warnings to his father, + His exile which your earnest pray'rs obtain'd. + + PHAEDRA + What! Would you have me slander innocence? + + OENONE + My zeal has need of naught from you but silence. + Like you I tremble, and am loath to do it; + More willingly I'd face a thousand deaths, + But since without this bitter remedy + I lose you, and to me your life outweighs + All else, I'll speak. Theseus, howe'er enraged + Will do no worse than banish him again. + A father, when he punishes, remains + A father, and his ire is satisfied + With a light sentence. But if guiltless blood + Should flow, is not your honour of more moment? + A treasure far too precious to be risk'd? + You must submit, whatever it dictates; + For, when our reputation is at stake, + All must be sacrificed, conscience itself. + But someone comes. 'Tis Theseus. + + PHAEDRA + And I see + Hippolytus, my ruin plainly written + In his stern eyes. Do what you will; I trust + My fate to you. I cannot help myself. + + + + SCENE IV + THESEUS, HIPPOLYTUS, PHAEDRA, OENONE, THERAMENES + + + THESEUS + Fortune no longer fights against my wishes, + Madam, and to your arms restores-- + + PHAEDRA + Stay, Theseus! + Do not profane endearments that were once + So sweet, but which I am unworthy now + To taste. You have been wrong'd. Fortune has proved + Spiteful, nor in your absence spared your wife. + I am unfit to meet your fond caress, + How I may bear my shame my only care + Henceforth. + + + + Scene V + THESEUS, HIPPOLYTUS, THERAMENES + + + THESEUS + Strange welcome for your father, this! + What does it mean, my son? + + HIPPOLYTUS + Phaedra alone + Can solve this mystery. But if my wish + Can move you, let me never see her more; + Suffer Hippolytus to disappear + For ever from the home that holds your wife. + + THESEUS + You, my son! Leave me? + + HIPPOLYTUS + 'Twas not I who sought her: + 'Twas you who led her footsteps to these shores. + At your departure you thought meet, my lord, + To trust Aricia and the Queen to this + Troezenian land, and I myself was charged + With their protection. But what cares henceforth + Need keep me here? My youth of idleness + Has shown its skill enough o'er paltry foes + That range the woods. May I not quit a life + Of such inglorious ease, and dip my spear + In nobler blood? Ere you had reach'd my age + More than one tyrant, monster more than one + Had felt the weight of your stout arm. Already, + Successful in attacking insolence, + You had removed all dangers that infested + Our coasts to east and west. The traveller fear'd + Outrage no longer. Hearing of your deeds, + Already Hercules relied on you, + And rested from his toils. While I, unknown + Son of so brave a sire, am far behind + Even my mother's footsteps. Let my courage + Have scope to act, and if some monster yet + Has 'scaped you, let me lay the glorious spoils + Down at your feet; or let the memory + Of death faced nobly keep my name alive, + And prove to all the world I was your son. + + THESEUS + Why, what is this? What terror has possess'd + My family to make them fly before me? + If I return to find myself so fear'd, + So little welcome, why did Heav'n release me + From prison? My sole friend, misled by passion, + Was bent on robbing of his wife the tyrant + Who ruled Epirus. With regret I lent + The lover aid, but Fate had made us blind, + Myself as well as him. The tyrant seized me + Defenceless and unarm'd. Pirithous + I saw with tears cast forth to be devour'd + By savage beasts that lapp'd the blood of men. + Myself in gloomy caverns he inclosed, + Deep in the bowels of the earth, and nigh + To Pluto's realms. Six months I lay ere Heav'n + Had pity, and I 'scaped the watchful eyes + That guarded me. Then did I purge the world + Of a foul foe, and he himself has fed + His monsters. But when with expectant joy + To all that is most precious I draw near + Of what the gods have left me, when my soul + Looks for full satisfaction in a sight + So dear, my only welcome is a shudder, + Embrace rejected, and a hasty flight. + Inspiring, as I clearly do, such terror, + Would I were still a prisoner in Epirus! + Phaedra complains that I have suffer'd outrage. + Who has betray'd me? Speak. Why was I not + Avenged? Has Greece, to whom mine arm so oft + Brought useful aid, shelter'd the criminal? + You make no answer. Is my son, mine own + Dear son, confederate with mine enemies? + I'll enter. This suspense is overwhelming. + I'll learn at once the culprit and the crime, + And Phaedra must explain her troubled state. + + + + Scene VI + HIPPOLYTUS, THERAMENES + + + HIPPOLYTUS + What do these words portend, which seem'd to freeze + My very blood? Will Phaedra, in her frenzy + Accuse herself, and seal her own destruction? + What will the King say? Gods! What fatal poison + Has love spread over all his house! Myself, + Full of a fire his hatred disapproves, + How changed he finds me from the son he knew! + With dark forebodings in my mind alarm'd, + But innocence has surely naught to fear. + Come, let us go, and in some other place + Consider how I best may move my sire + To tenderness, and tell him of a flame + Vex'd but not vanquish'd by a father's blame. + + + + +ACT IV + + Scene I + THESEUS, OENONE + + + THESEUS + Ah! What is this I hear? Presumptuous traitor! + And would he have disgraced his father's honour? + With what relentless footsteps Fate pursues me! + Whither I go I know not, nor where know + I am. O kind affection ill repaid! + Audacious scheme! Abominable thought! + To reach the object of his foul desire + The wretch disdain'd not to use violence. + I know this sword that served him in his fury, + The sword I gave him for a nobler use. + Could not the sacred ties of blood restrain him? + And Phaedra,--was she loath to have him punish'd? + She held her tongue. Was that to spare the culprit? + + OENONE + Nay, but to spare a most unhappy father. + O'erwhelm'd with shame that her eyes should have kindled + So infamous a flame and prompted him + To crime so heinous, Phaedra would have died. + I saw her raise her arm, and ran to save her. + To me alone you owe it that she lives; + And, in my pity both for her and you, + Have I against my will interpreted + Her tears. + + THESEUS + The traitor! He might well turn pale. + 'Twas fear that made him tremble when he saw me. + I was astonish'd that he show'd no pleasure; + His frigid greeting chill'd my tenderness. + But was this guilty passion that devours him + Declared already ere I banish'd him + From Athens? + + OENONE + Sire, remember how the Queen + Urged you. Illicit love caused all her hatred. + + THESEUS + And then this fire broke out again at Troezen? + + OENONE + Sire, I have told you all. Too long the Queen + Has been allow'd to bear her grief alone + Let me now leave you and attend to her. + + + + Scene II + THESEUS, HIPPOLYTUS + + + THESEUS + Ah! There he is. Great gods! That noble mien + Might well deceive an eye less fond than mine! + Why should the sacred stamp of virtue gleam + Upon the forehead of an impious wretch? + Ought not the blackness of a traitor's heart + To show itself by sure and certain signs? + + HIPPOLYTUS + My father, may I ask what fatal cloud + Has troubled your majestic countenance? + Dare you not trust this secret to your son? + + THESEUS + Traitor, how dare you show yourself before me? + Monster, whom Heaven's bolts have spared too long! + Survivor of that robber crew whereof + I cleansed the earth. After your brutal lust + Scorn'd even to respect my marriage bed, + You venture--you, my hated foe--to come + Into my presence, here, where all is full + Of your foul infamy, instead of seeking + Some unknown land that never heard my name. + Fly, traitor, fly! Stay not to tempt the wrath + That I can scarce restrain, nor brave my hatred. + Disgrace enough have I incurr'd for ever + In being father of so vile a son, + Without your death staining indelibly + The glorious record of my noble deeds. + Fly, and unless you wish quick punishment + To add you to the criminals cut off + By me, take heed this sun that lights us now + Ne'er sees you more set foot upon this soil. + I tell you once again,--fly, haste, return not, + Rid all my realms of your atrocious presence. + To thee, to thee, great Neptune, I appeal + If erst I clear'd thy shores of foul assassins + Recall thy promise to reward those efforts, + Crown'd with success, by granting my first pray'r. + Confined for long in close captivity, + I have not yet call'd on thy pow'rful aid, + Sparing to use the valued privilege + Till at mine utmost need. The time is come + I ask thee now. Avenge a wretched father! + I leave this traitor to thy wrath; in blood + Quench his outrageous fires, and by thy fury + Theseus will estimate thy favour tow'rds him. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Phaedra accuses me of lawless passion! + This crowning horror all my soul confounds; + Such unexpected blows, falling at once, + O'erwhelm me, choke my utterance, strike me dumb. + + THESEUS + Traitor, you reckon'd that in timid silence + Phaedra would bury your brutality. + You should not have abandon'd in your flight + The sword that in her hands helps to condemn you; + Or rather, to complete your perfidy, + You should have robb'd her both of speech and life. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Justly indignant at a lie so black + I might be pardon'd if I told the truth; + But it concerns your honour to conceal it. + Approve the reverence that shuts my mouth; + And, without wishing to increase your woes, + Examine closely what my life has been. + Great crimes are never single, they are link'd + To former faults. He who has once transgress'd + May violate at last all that men hold + Most sacred; vice, like virtue, has degrees + Of progress; innocence was never seen + To sink at once into the lowest depths + Of guilt. No virtuous man can in a day + Turn traitor, murderer, an incestuous wretch. + The nursling of a chaste, heroic mother, + I have not proved unworthy of my birth. + Pittheus, whose wisdom is by all esteem'd, + Deign'd to instruct me when I left her hands. + It is no wish of mine to vaunt my merits, + But, if I may lay claim to any virtue, + I think beyond all else I have display'd + Abhorrence of those sins with which I'm charged. + For this Hippolytus is known in Greece, + So continent that he is deem'd austere. + All know my abstinence inflexible: + The daylight is not purer than my heart. + How, then, could I, burning with fire profane-- + + THESEUS + Yes, dastard, 'tis that very pride condemns you. + I see the odious reason of your coldness + Phaedra alone bewitch'd your shameless eyes; + Your soul, to others' charms indifferent, + Disdain'd the blameless fires of lawful love. + + HIPPOLYTUS + No, father, I have hidden it too long, + This heart has not disdain'd a sacred flame. + Here at your feet I own my real offence: + I love, and love in truth where you forbid me; + Bound to Aricia by my heart's devotion, + The child of Pallas has subdued your son. + A rebel to your laws, her I adore, + And breathe forth ardent sighs for her alone. + + THESEUS + You love her? Heav'ns! + But no, I see the trick. + You feign a crime to justify yourself. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Sir, I have shunn'd her for six months, and still + Love her. To you yourself I came to tell it, + Trembling the while. Can nothing clear your mind + Of your mistake? What oath can reassure you? + By heav'n and earth and all the pow'rs of nature-- + + THESEUS + The wicked never shrink from perjury. + Cease, cease, and spare me irksome protestations, + If your false virtue has no other aid. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Tho' it to you seem false and insincere, + Phaedra has secret cause to know it true. + + THESEUS + Ah! how your shamelessness excites my wrath! + + HIPPOLYTUS + What is my term and place of banishment? + + THESEUS + Were you beyond the Pillars of Alcides, + Your perjured presence were too near me yet. + + HIPPOLYTUS + What friends will pity me, when you forsake + And think me guilty of a crime so vile? + + THESEUS + Go, look you out for friends who hold in honour + Adultery and clap their hands at incest, + Low, lawless traitors, steep'd in infamy, + The fit protectors of a knave like you. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Are incest and adultery the words + You cast at me? I hold my tongue. Yet think + What mother Phaedra had; too well you know + Her blood, not mine, is tainted with those horrors. + + THESEUS + What! Does your rage before my eyes lose all + Restraint? For the last time,--out of my sight! + Hence, traitor! Wait not till a father's wrath + Force thee away 'mid general execration. + + + + Scene III + + + THESEUS (alone) + Wretch! Thou must meet inevitable ruin. + Neptune has sworn by Styx--to gods themselves + A dreadful oath,--and he will execute + His promise. Thou canst not escape his vengeance. + I loved thee; and, in spite of thine offence, + My heart is troubled by anticipation + For thee. But thou hast earn'd thy doom too well. + Had father ever greater cause for rage? + Just gods, who see the grief that overwhelms me, + Why was I cursed with such a wicked son? + + + + SCENE IV + PHAEDRA, THESEUS + + + PHAEDRA + My lord, I come to you, fill'd with just dread. + Your voice raised high in anger reach'd mine ears, + And much I fear that deeds have follow'd threats. + Oh, if there yet is time, spare your own offspring. + Respect your race and blood, I do beseech you. + Let me not hear that blood cry from the ground; + Save me the horror and perpetual pain + Of having caused his father's hand to shed it. + + THESEUS + No, Madam, from that stain my hand is free. + But, for all that, the wretch has not escaped me. + The hand of an Immortal now is charged + With his destruction. 'Tis a debt that Neptune + Owes me, and you shall be avenged. + + PHAEDRA + A debt + Owed you? Pray'rs made in anger-- + + THESEUS + Never fear + That they will fail. Rather join yours to mine + In all their blackness paint for me his crimes, + And fan my tardy passion to white heat. + But yet you know not all his infamy; + His rage against you overflows in slanders; + Your mouth, he says, is full of all deceit, + He says Aricia has his heart and soul, + That her alone he loves. + + PHAEDRA + Aricia? + + THESEUS + Aye, + He said it to my face! an idle pretext! + A trick that gulls me not! Let us hope Neptune + Will do him speedy justice. To his altars + I go, to urge performance of his oaths. + + + + SCENE V + + + PHAEDRA (alone) + Ah, he is gone! What tidings struck mine ears? + What fire, half smother'd, in my heart revives? + What fatal stroke falls like a thunderbolt? + Stung by remorse that would not let me rest, + I tore myself out of Oenone's arms, + And flew to help Hippolytus with all + My soul and strength. Who knows if that repentance + Might not have moved me to accuse myself? + And, if my voice had not been choked with shame, + Perhaps I had confess'd the frightful truth. + Hippolytus can feel, but not for me! + Aricia has his heart, his plighted troth. + Ye gods, when, deaf to all my sighs and tears, + He arm'd his eye with scorn, his brow with threats, + I deem'd his heart, impregnable to love, + Was fortified 'gainst all my sex alike. + And yet another has prevail'd to tame + His pride, another has secured his favour. + Perhaps he has a heart easily melted; + I am the only one he cannot bear! + And shall I charge myself with his defence? + + + + SCENE VI + PHAEDRA, OENONE + + + PHAEDRA + Know you, dear Nurse, what I have learn'd just now? + + OENONE + No; but I come in truth with trembling limbs. + I dreaded with what purpose you went forth, + The fear of fatal madness made me pale. + + PHAEDRA + Who would have thought it, Nurse? I had a rival. + + OENONE + A rival? + + PHAEDRA + Yes, he loves. I cannot doubt it. + This wild untamable Hippolytus, + Who scorn'd to be admired, whom lovers' sighs + Wearied, this tiger, whom I fear'd to rouse, + Fawns on a hand that has subdued his pride: + Aricia has found entrance to his heart. + + OENONE + Aricia? + + PHAEDRA + Ah! anguish as yet untried! + For what new tortures am I still reserved? + All I have undergone, transports of passion, + Longings and fears, the horrors of remorse, + The shame of being spurn'd with contumely, + Were feeble foretastes of my present torments. + They love each other! By what secret charm + Have they deceived me? Where, and when, and how + Met they? You knew it all. Why was I cozen'd? + You never told me of those stolen hours + Of amorous converse. Have they oft been seen + Talking together? Did they seek the shades + Of thickest woods? Alas! full freedom had they + To see each other. Heav'n approved their sighs; + They loved without the consciousness of guilt; + And every morning's sun for them shone clear, + While I, an outcast from the face of Nature, + Shunn'd the bright day, and sought to hide myself. + Death was the only god whose aid I dared + To ask: I waited for the grave's release. + Water'd with tears, nourish'd with gall, my woe + Was all too closely watch'd; I did not dare + To weep without restraint. In mortal dread + Tasting this dangerous solace, I disguised + My terror 'neath a tranquil countenance, + And oft had I to check my tears, and smile. + + OENONE + What fruit will they enjoy of their vain love? + They will not see each other more. + + PHAEDRA + That love + Will last for ever. Even while I speak, + Ah, fatal thought, they laugh to scorn the madness + Of my distracted heart. In spite of exile + That soon must part them, with a thousand oaths + They seal yet closer union. Can I suffer + A happiness, Oenone, which insults me? + I crave your pity. She must be destroy'd. + My husband's wrath against a hateful stock + Shall be revived, nor must the punishment + Be light: the sister's guilt passes the brothers'. + I will entreat him in my jealous rage. + What am I saying? Have I lost my senses? + Is Phaedra jealous, and will she implore + Theseus for help? My husband lives, and yet + I burn. For whom? Whose heart is this I claim + As mine? At every word I say, my hair + Stands up with horror. Guilt henceforth has pass'd + All bounds. Hypocrisy and incest breathe + At once thro' all. My murderous hands are ready + To spill the blood of guileless innocence. + Do I yet live, wretch that I am, and dare + To face this holy Sun from whom I spring? + My father's sire was king of all the gods; + My ancestors fill all the universe. + Where can I hide? In the dark realms of Pluto? + But there my father holds the fatal urn; + His hand awards th' irrevocable doom: + Minos is judge of all the ghosts in hell. + Ah! how his awful shade will start and shudder + When he shall see his daughter brought before him, + Forced to confess sins of such varied dye, + Crimes it may be unknown to hell itself! + What wilt thou say, my father, at a sight + So dire? I think I see thee drop the urn, + And, seeking some unheard-of punishment, + Thyself become my executioner. + Spare me! A cruel goddess has destroy'd + Thy race; and in my madness recognize + Her wrath. Alas! My aching heart has reap'd + No fruit of pleasure from the frightful crime + The shame of which pursues me to the grave, + And ends in torment life-long misery. + + OENONE + Ah, Madam, pray dismiss a groundless dread: + Look less severely on a venial error. + You love. We cannot conquer destiny. + You were drawn on as by a fatal charm. + Is that a marvel without precedent + Among us? Has love triumph'd over you, + And o'er none else? Weakness is natural + To man. A mortal, to a mortal's lot + Submit. You chafe against a yoke that others + Have long since borne. The dwellers in Olympus, + The gods themselves, who terrify with threats + The sins of men, have burn'd with lawless fires. + + PHAEDRA + What words are these I hear? What counsel this + You dare to give me? Will you to the end + Pour poison in mine ears? You have destroy'd me. + You brought me back when I should else have quitted + The light of day, made me forget my duty + And see Hippolytus, till then avoided. + What hast thou done? Why did your wicked mouth + With blackest lies slander his blameless life? + Perhaps you've slain him, and the impious pray'r + Of an unfeeling father has been answer'd. + No, not another word! Go, hateful monster; + Away, and leave me to my piteous fate. + May Heav'n with justice pay you your deserts! + And may your punishment for ever be + A terror to all those who would, like you, + Nourish with artful wiles the weaknesses + Of princes, push them to the brink of ruin + To which their heart inclines, and smooth the path + Of guilt. Such flatterers doth the wrath of Heav'n + Bestow on kings as its most fatal gift. + + OENONE (alone) + O gods! to serve her what have I not done? + This is the due reward that I have won. + + + + +ACT V + + SCENE I + HIPPOLYTUS, ARICIA + + + ARICIA + Can you keep silent in this mortal peril? + Your father loves you. Will you leave him thus + Deceived? If in your cruel heart you scorn + My tears, content to see me nevermore, + Go, part from poor Aricia; but at least, + Going, secure the safety of your life. + Defend your honor from a shameful stain, + And force your father to recall his pray'rs. + There yet is time. Why out of mere caprice + Leave the field free to Phaedra's calumnies? + Let Theseus know the truth. + + HIPPOLYTUS + Could I say more, + Without exposing him to dire disgrace? + How should I venture, by revealing all, + To make a father's brow grow red with shame? + The odious mystery to you alone + Is known. My heart has been outpour'd to none + Save you and Heav'n. I could not hide from you + (Judge if I love you), all I fain would hide + E'en from myself. But think under what seal + I spoke. Forget my words, if that may be; + And never let so pure a mouth disclose + This dreadful secret. Let us trust to Heav'n + My vindication, for the gods are just; + For their own honour will they clear the guiltless; + Sooner or later punish'd for her crime, + Phaedra will not escape the shame she merits. + I ask no other favour than your silence; + In all besides I give my wrath free scope. + Make your escape from this captivity, + Be bold to bear me company in flight; + Linger not here on this accursed soil, + Where virtue breathes a pestilential air. + To cover your departure take advantage + Of this confusion, caused by my disgrace. + The means of flight are ready, be assured; + You have as yet no other guards than mine. + Pow'rful defenders will maintain our quarrel; + Argos spreads open arms, and Sparta calls us. + Let us appeal for justice to our friends, + Nor suffer Phaedra, in a common ruin + Joining us both, to hunt us from the throne, + And aggrandise her son by robbing us. + Embrace this happy opportunity: + What fear restrains? You seem to hesitate. + Your interest alone prompts me to urge + Boldness. When I am all on fire, how comes it + That you are ice? Fear you to follow then + A banish'd man? + + ARICIA + Ah, dear to me would be + Such exile! With what joy, my fate to yours + United, could I live, by all the world + Forgotten! but not yet has that sweet tie + Bound us together. How then can I steal + Away with you? I know the strictest honour + Forbids me not out of your father's hands + To free myself; this is no parent's home, + And flight is lawful when one flies from tyrants. + But you, Sir, love me; and my virtue shrinks-- + + HIPPOLYTUS + No, no, your reputation is to me + As dear as to yourself. A nobler purpose + Brings me to you. Fly from your foes, and follow + A husband. Heav'n, that sends us these misfortunes, + Sets free from human instruments the pledge + Between us. Torches do not always light + The face of Hymen. + At the gates of Troezen, + 'Mid ancient tombs where princes of my race + Lie buried, stands a temple, ne'er approach'd + By perjurers, where mortals dare not make + False oaths, for instant punishment befalls + The guilty. Falsehood knows no stronger check + Than what is present there--the fear of death + That cannot be avoided. Thither then + We'll go, if you consent, and swear to love + For ever, take the guardian god to witness + Our solemn vows, and his paternal care + Entreat. I will invoke the name of all + The holiest Pow'rs; chaste Dian, and the Queen + Of Heav'n, yea all the gods who know my heart + Will guarantee my sacred promises. + + ARICIA + The King draws near. Depart,--make no delay. + To mask my flight, I linger yet one moment. + Go you; and leave with me some trusty guide, + To lead my timid footsteps to your side. + + + + SCENE II + THESEUS, ARICIA, ISMENE + + + THESEUS + Ye gods, throw light upon my troubled mind, + Show me the truth which I am seeking here. + + ARICIA (aside to ISMENE) + Get ready, dear Ismene, for our flight. + + + + SCENE III + THESEUS, ARICIA + + + THESEUS + Your colour comes and goes, you seem confused, + Madame! What business had my son with you? + + ARICIA + Sire, he was bidding me farewell for ever. + + THESEUS + Your eyes, it seems, can tame that stubborn pride; + And the first sighs he breathes are paid to you. + + ARICIA + I can't deny the truth; he has not, Sire, + Inherited your hatred and injustice; + He did not treat me like a criminal. + + THESEUS + That is to say, he swore eternal love. + Do not rely on that inconstant heart; + To others has he sworn as much before. + + ARICIA + He, Sire? + + THESEUS + You ought to check his roving taste. + How could you bear a partnership so vile? + + ARICIA + And how can you endure that vilest slanders + Should make a life so pure as black as pitch? + Have you so little knowledge of his heart? + Do you so ill distinguish between guilt + And innocence? What mist before your eyes + Blinds them to virtue so conspicuous? + Ah! 'tis too much to let false tongues defame him. + Repent; call back your murderous wishes, Sire; + Fear, fear lest Heav'n in its severity + Hate you enough to hear and grant your pray'rs. + Oft in their wrath the gods accept our victims, + And oftentimes chastise us with their gifts. + + THESEUS + No, vainly would you cover up his guilt. + Your love is blind to his depravity. + But I have witness irreproachable: + Tears have I seen, true tears, that may be trusted. + + ARICIA + Take heed, my lord. Your hands invincible + Have rid the world of monsters numberless; + But all are not destroy'd, one you have left + Alive--Your son forbids me to say more. + Knowing with what respect he still regards you, + I should too much distress him if I dared + Complete my sentence. I will imitate + His reverence, and, to keep silence, leave you. + + + + SCENE IV + + + THESEUS (alone) + What is there in her mind? What meaning lurks + In speech begun but to be broken short? + Would both deceive me with a vain pretence? + Have they conspired to put me to the torture? + And yet, despite my stern severity, + What plaintive voice cries deep within my heart? + A secret pity troubles and alarms me. + Oenone shall be questioned once again, + I must have clearer light upon this crime. + Guards, bid Oenone come, and come alone. + + + + SCENE V + THESEUS, PANOPE + + + PANOPE + I know not what the Queen intends to do, + But from her agitation dread the worst. + Fatal despair is painted on her features; + Death's pallor is already in her face. + Oenone, shamed and driven from her sight, + Has cast herself into the ocean depths. + None knows what prompted her to deed so rash; + And now the waves hide her from us for ever. + + THESEUS + What say you? + + PANOPE + Her sad fate seems to have added + Fresh trouble to the Queen's tempestuous soul. + Sometimes, to soothe her secret pain, she clasps + Her children close, and bathes them with her tears; + Then suddenly, the mother's love forgotten, + She thrusts them from her with a look of horror, + She wanders to and fro with doubtful steps; + Her vacant eye no longer knows us. Thrice + She wrote, and thrice did she, changing her mind, + Destroy the letter ere 'twas well begun. + Vouchsafe to see her, Sire: vouchsafe to help her. + + THESEUS + Heav'ns! Is Oenone dead, and Phaedra bent + On dying too? Oh, call me back my son! + Let him defend himself, and I am ready + To hear him. Be not hasty to bestow + Thy fatal bounty, Neptune; let my pray'rs + Rather remain ever unheard. Too soon + I lifted cruel hands, believing lips + That may have lied! Ah! What despair may follow! + + + + SCENE VI + THESEUS, THERAMENES + + + THESEUS + Theramenes, is't thou? Where is my son? + I gave him to thy charge from tenderest childhood. + But whence these tears that overflow thine eyes? + How is it with my son? + + THERAMENES + Concern too late! + Affection vain! Hippolytus is dead. + + THESEUS + Gods! + + THERAMENES + I have seen the flow'r of all mankind + Cut off, and I am bold to say that none + Deserved it less. + + THESEUS + What! My son dead! When I + Was stretching out my arms to him, has Heav'n + Hasten'd his end? What was this sudden stroke? + + THERAMENES + Scarce had we pass'd out of the gates of Troezen, + He silent in his chariot, and his guards + Downcast and silent too, around him ranged; + To the Mycenian road he turn'd his steeds, + Then, lost in thought, allow'd the reins to lie + Loose on their backs. His noble chargers, erst + So full of ardour to obey his voice, + With head depress'd and melancholy eye + Seem'd now to mark his sadness and to share it. + A frightful cry, that issues from the deep, + With sudden discord rends the troubled air; + And from the bosom of the earth a groan + Is heard in answer to that voice of terror. + Our blood is frozen at our very hearts; + With bristling manes the list'ning steeds stand still. + Meanwhile upon the watery plain there rises + A mountain billow with a mighty crest + Of foam, that shoreward rolls, and, as it breaks + Before our eyes vomits a furious monster. + With formidable horns its brow is arm'd, + And all its body clothed with yellow scales, + In front a savage bull, behind a dragon + Turning and twisting in impatient rage. + Its long continued bellowings make the shore + Tremble; the sky seems horror-struck to see it; + The earth with terror quakes; its poisonous breath + Infects the air. The wave that brought it ebbs + In fear. All fly, forgetful of the courage + That cannot aid, and in a neighbouring temple + Take refuge--all save bold Hippolytus. + A hero's worthy son, he stays his steeds, + Seizes his darts, and, rushing forward, hurls + A missile with sure aim that wounds the monster + Deep in the flank. With rage and pain it springs + E'en to the horses' feet, and, roaring, falls, + Writhes in the dust, and shows a fiery throat + That covers them with flames, and blood, and smoke. + Fear lends them wings; deaf to his voice for once, + And heedless of the curb, they onward fly. + Their master wastes his strength in efforts vain; + With foam and blood each courser's bit is red. + Some say a god, amid this wild disorder, + Was seen with goads pricking their dusty flanks. + O'er jagged rocks they rush urged on by terror; + Crash! goes the axle-tree. Th' intrepid youth + Sees his car broken up, flying to pieces; + He falls himself entangled in the reins. + Pardon my grief. That cruel spectacle + Will be for me a source of endless tears. + I saw thy hapless son, I saw him, Sire, + Drag'd by the horses that his hands had fed, + Pow'rless to check their fierce career, his voice + But adding to their fright, his body soon + One mass of wounds. Our cries of anguish fill + The plain. At last they slacken their swift pace, + Then stop, not far from those old tombs that mark + Where lie the ashes of his royal sires. + Panting I thither run, and after me + His guard, along the track stain'd with fresh blood + That reddens all the rocks; caught in the briers + Locks of his hair hang dripping, gory spoils! + I come, I call him. Stretching forth his hand, + He opens his dying eyes, soon closed again. + "The gods have robb'd me of a guiltless life," + I hear him say: "Take care of sad Aricia + When I am dead. Dear friend, if e'er my father + Mourn, undeceived, his son's unhappy fate + Falsely accused; to give my spirit peace, + Tell him to treat his captive tenderly, + And to restore--" With that the hero's breath + Fails, and a mangled corpse lies in my arms, + A piteous object, trophy of the wrath + Of Heav'n--so changed, his father would not know him. + + THESEUS + Alas, my son! Dear hope for ever lost! + The ruthless gods have served me but too well. + For what a life of anguish and remorse + Am I reserved! + + THERAMENES + Aricia at that instant, + Flying from you, comes timidly, to take him + For husband, there, in presence of the gods. + Thus drawing nigh, she sees the grass all red + And reeking, sees (sad sight for lover's eye!) + Hippolytus stretch'd there, pale and disfigured. + But, for a time doubtful of her misfortune, + Unrecognized the hero she adores, + She looks, and asks--"Where is Hippolytus?" + Only too sure at last that he lies there + Before her, with sad eyes that silently + Reproach the gods, she shudders, groans, and falls + Swooning and all but lifeless, at his feet. + Ismene, all in tears, kneels down beside her, + And calls her back to life--life that is naught + But sense of pain. And I, to whom this light + Is darkness now, come to discharge the duty + The hero has imposed on me, to tell thee + His last request--a melancholy task. + But hither comes his mortal enemy. + + + + SCENE VII + THESEUS, PHAEDRA, THERAMENES, PANOPE, GUARDS + + + THESEUS + Madame, you've triumph'd, and my son is kill'd! + Ah, but what room have I for fear! How justly + Suspicion racks me that in blaming him + I err'd! But he is dead; accept your victim; + Rightly or wrongly slain, let your heart leap + For joy. My eyes shall be for ever blind: + Since you accuse him, I'll believe him guilty. + His death affords me cause enough for tears, + Without a foolish search for further light + Which, pow'rless to restore him to my grief, + Might only serve to make me more unhappy, + Far from this shore and far from you I'll fly, + For here the image of my mangled son + Would haunt my memory and drive me mad. + From the whole world I fain would banish me, + For all the world seems to rise up in judgment + Against me; and my very glory weights + My punishment; for, were my name less known + 'Twere easier to hide me. All the favours + The gods have granted me I mourn and hate, + Nor will I importune them with vain pray'rs + Henceforth for ever. Give me what they may, + What they have taken will all else outweigh. + + PHAEDRA + Theseus, I cannot hear you and keep silence: + I must repair the wrong that he has suffer'd-- + Your son was innocent. + + THESEUS + Unhappy father! + And it was on your word that I condemn'd him! + Think you such cruelty can be excused-- + + PHAEDRA + Moments to me are precious; hear me, Theseus. + 'Twas I who cast an eye of lawless passion + On chaste and dutiful Hippolytus. + Heav'n in my bosom kindled baleful fire, + And vile Oenone's cunning did the rest. + She fear'd Hippolytus, knowing my madness, + Would make that passion known which he regarded + With horror; so advantage of my weakness + She took, and hasten'd to accuse him first. + For that she has been punish'd, tho' too mildly; + Seeking to shun my wrath she cast herself + Beneath the waves. The sword ere now had cut + My thread of life, but slander'd innocence + Made its cry heard, and I resolved to die + In a more lingering way, confessing first + My penitence to you. A poison, brought + To Athens by Medea, runs thro' my veins. + Already in my heart the venom works, + Infusing there a strange and fatal chill; + Already as thro' thickening mists I see + The spouse to whom my presence is an outrage; + Death, from mine eyes veiling the light of heav'n, + Restores its purity that they defiled. + + PANOPE + She dies my lord! + + THESEUS + Would that the memory + Of her disgraceful deed could perish with her! + Ah, disabused too late! Come, let us go, + And with the blood of mine unhappy son + Mingle our tears, clasping his dear remains, + In deep repentance for a pray'r detested. + Let him be honour'd as he well deserves; + And, to appease his sore offended ghost, + Be her near kinsmen's guilt whate'er it may, + Aricia shall be held my daughter from to-day. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Phaedra, by Jean Baptiste Racine + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PHAEDRA *** + +***** This file should be named 1977.txt or 1977.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/7/1977/ + +Produced by Dagny, and John Bickers + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +Etext prepared by Dagny, dagnyj@hotmail.com +and John Bickers, jbickers@templar.actrix.gen.nz + + + + + +Phaedra + +by Jean Baptiste Racine + +Translated by Robert Bruce Boswell + + + + +INTRODUCTORY NOTE + +JEAN BAPTISTE RACINE, the younger contemporary of Corneille, and his +rival for supremacy in French classical tragedy, was born at Ferte- +Milon, December 21, 1639. He was educated at the College of Beauvais, +at the great Jansenist school at Port Royal, and at the College +d'Harcourt. He attracted notice by an ode written for the marriage of +Louis XIV in 1660, and made his first really great dramatic success +with his "Andromaque." His tragic masterpieces include "Britannicus," +"Berenice," "Bajazet," "Mithridate," "Iphigenie," and "Phaedre," all +written between 1669 and 1677. Then for some years he gave up dramatic +composition, disgusted by the intrigues of enemies who sought to +injure his career by exalting above him an unworthy rival. In 1689 he +resumed his work under the persuasion of Mme. de Maintenon, and +produced "Esther" and "Athalie," the latter ranking among his finest +productions, although it did not receive public recognition until some +time after his death in 1699. Besides his tragedies, Racine wrote one +comedy, "Les Plaideurs," four hymns of great beauty, and a history of +Port Royal. + +The external conventions of classical tragedy which had been +established by Corneille, Racine did not attempt to modify. His study +of the Greek tragedians and his own taste led him to submit willingly +to the rigor and simplicity of form which were the fundamental marks +of the classical ideal. It was in his treatment of character that he +differed most from his predecessor; for whereas, as we have seen, +Corneille represented his leading figures as heroically subduing +passion by force of will, Racine represents his as driven by almost +uncontrollable passion. Thus his creations appeal to the modern reader +as more warmly human; their speech, if less exalted, is simpler and +more natural; and he succeeds more brilliantly with his portraits of +women than with those of men. + +All these characteristics are exemplified in "Phaedre," the tragedy of +Racine which has made an appeal to the widest audience. To the legend +as treated by Euripides, Racine added the love of Hippolytus for +Aricia, and thus supplied a motive for Phaedra's jealousy, and at the +same time he made the nurse instead of Phaedra the calumniator of his +son to Theseus. + + + + + +PHAEDRA + + + + +CHARACTERS + +THESEUS, son of Aegeus and King of Athens. +PHAEDRA, wife of Theseus and Daughter of Minos and Pasiphae. +HIPPOLYTUS, son of Theseus and Antiope, Queen of the Amazons. +ARICIA, Princess of the Blood Royal of Athens. +OENONE, nurse of Phaedra. +THERAMENES, tutor of Hippolytus. +ISMENE, bosom friend of Aricia. +PANOPE, waiting-woman of Phaedra. +GUARDS. + + + +The scene is laid at Troezen, a town of the Peloponnesus. + + + + +ACT I + +SCENE I +HIPPOLYTUS, THERAMENES + + +HIPPOLYTUS +My mind is settled, dear Theramenes, +And I can stay no more in lovely Troezen. +In doubt that racks my soul with mortal anguish, +I grow ashamed of such long idleness. +Six months and more my father has been gone, +And what may have befallen one so dear +I know not, nor what corner of the earth +Hides him. + +THERAMENES +And where, prince, will you look for him? +Already, to content your just alarm, +Have I not cross'd the seas on either side +Of Corinth, ask'd if aught were known of Theseus +Where Acheron is lost among the Shades, +Visited Elis, doubled Toenarus, +And sail'd into the sea that saw the fall +Of Icarus? Inspired with what new hope, +Under what favour'd skies think you to trace +His footsteps? Who knows if the King, your father, +Wishes the secret of his absence known? +Perchance, while we are trembling for his life, +The hero calmly plots some fresh intrigue, +And only waits till the deluded fair-- + +HIPPOLYTUS +Cease, dear Theramenes, respect the name +Of Theseus. Youthful errors have been left +Behind, and no unworthy obstacle +Detains him. Phaedra long has fix'd a heart +Inconstant once, nor need she fear a rival. +In seeking him I shall but do my duty, +And leave a place I dare no longer see. + +THERAMENES +Indeed! When, prince, did you begin to dread +These peaceful haunts, so dear to happy childhood, +Where I have seen you oft prefer to stay, +Rather than meet the tumult and the pomp +Of Athens and the court? What danger shun you, +Or shall I say what grief? + +HIPPOLYTUS +That happy time +Is gone, and all is changed, since to these shores +The gods sent Phaedra. + +THERAMENES +I perceive the cause +Of your distress. It is the queen whose sight +Offends you. With a step-dame's spite she schemed +Your exile soon as she set eyes on you. +But if her hatred is not wholly vanish'd, +It has at least taken a milder aspect. +Besides, what danger can a dying woman, +One too who longs for death, bring on your head? +Can Phaedra, sick'ning of a dire disease +Of which she will not speak, weary of life +And of herself, form any plots against you? + +HIPPOLYTUS +It is not her vain enmity I fear, +Another foe alarms Hippolytus. +I fly, it must be own'd, from young Aricia, +The sole survivor of an impious race. + +THERAMENES +What! You become her persecutor too! +The gentle sister of the cruel sons +Of Pallas shared not in their perfidy; +Why should you hate such charming innocence? + +HIPPOLYTUS +I should not need to fly, if it were hatred. + +THERAMENES +May I, then, learn the meaning of your flight? +Is this the proud Hippolytus I see, +Than whom there breathed no fiercer foe to love +And to that yoke which Theseus has so oft +Endured? And can it be that Venus, scorn'd +So long, will justify your sire at last? +Has she, then, setting you with other mortals, +Forced e'en Hippolytus to offer incense +Before her? Can you love? + +HIPPOLYTUS +Friend, ask me not. +You, who have known my heart from infancy +And all its feelings of disdainful pride, +Spare me the shame of disavowing all +That I profess'd. Born of an Amazon, +The wildness that you wonder at I suck'd +With mother's milk. When come to riper age, +Reason approved what Nature had implanted. +Sincerely bound to me by zealous service, +You told me then the story of my sire, +And know how oft, attentive to your voice, +I kindled when I heard his noble acts, +As you described him bringing consolation +To mortals for the absence of Alcides, +The highways clear'd of monsters and of robbers, +Procrustes, Cercyon, Sciro, Sinnis slain, +The Epidaurian giant's bones dispersed, +Crete reeking with the blood of Minotaur. +But when you told me of less glorious deeds, +Troth plighted here and there and everywhere, +Young Helen stolen from her home at Sparta, +And Periboea's tears in Salamis, +With many another trusting heart deceived +Whose very names have 'scaped his memory, +Forsaken Ariadne to the rocks +Complaining, last this Phaedra, bound to him +By better ties,--you know with what regret +I heard and urged you to cut short the tale, +Happy had I been able to erase +From my remembrance that unworthy part +Of such a splendid record. I, in turn, +Am I too made the slave of love, and brought +To stoop so low? The more contemptible +That no renown is mine such as exalts +The name of Theseus, that no monsters quell'd +Have given me a right to share his weakness. +And if my pride of heart must needs be humbled, +Aricia should have been the last to tame it. +Was I beside myself to have forgotten +Eternal barriers of separation +Between us? By my father's stern command +Her brethren's blood must ne'er be reinforced +By sons of hers; he dreads a single shoot +From stock so guilty, and would fain with her +Bury their name, that, even to the tomb +Content to be his ward, for her no torch +Of Hymen may be lit. Shall I espouse +Her rights against my sire, rashly provoke +His wrath, and launch upon a mad career-- + +THERAMENES +The gods, dear prince, if once your hour is come, +Care little for the reasons that should guide us. +Wishing to shut your eyes, Theseus unseals them; +His hatred, stirring a rebellious flame +Within you, lends his enemy new charms. +And, after all, why should a guiltless passion +Alarm you? Dare you not essay its sweetness, +But follow rather a fastidious scruple? +Fear you to stray where Hercules has wander'd? +What heart so stout that Venus has not vanquish'd? +Where would you be yourself, so long her foe, +Had your own mother, constant in her scorn +Of love, ne'er glowed with tenderness for Theseus? +What boots it to affect a pride you feel not? +Confess it, all is changed; for some time past +You have been seldom seen with wild delight +Urging the rapid car along the strand, +Or, skilful in the art that Neptune taught, +Making th' unbroken steed obey the bit; +Less often have the woods return'd our shouts; +A secret burden on your spirits cast +Has dimm'd your eye. How can I doubt you love? +Vainly would you conceal the fatal wound. +Has not the fair Aricia touch'd your heart? + +HIPPOLYTUS +Theramenes, I go to find my father. + +THERAMENES +Will you not see the queen before you start, +My prince? + +HIPPOLYTUS +That is my purpose: you can tell her. +Yes, I will see her; duty bids me do it. +But what new ill vexes her dear Oenone? + + + +SCENE II +HIPPOLYTUS, OENONE, THERAMENES + + +OENONE +Alas, my lord, what grief was e'er like mine? +The queen has almost touch'd the gates of death. +Vainly close watch I keep by day and night, +E'en in my arms a secret malady +Slays her, and all her senses are disorder'd. +Weary yet restless from her couch she rises, +Pants for the outer air, but bids me see +That no one on her misery intrudes. +She comes. + +HIPPOLYTUS +Enough. She shall not be disturb'd, +Nor be confronted with a face she hates. + + + +SCENE III +PHAEDRA, OENONE + + +PHAEDRA +We have gone far enough. Stay, dear Oenone; +Strength fails me, and I needs must rest awhile. +My eyes are dazzled with this glaring light +So long unseen, my trembling knees refuse +Support. Ah me! + +OENONE +Would Heaven that our tears +Might bring relief! + +PHAEDRA +Ah, how these cumbrous gauds, +These veils oppress me! What officious hand +Has tied these knots, and gather'd o'er my brow +These clustering coils? How all conspires to add +To my distress! + +OENONE +What is one moment wish'd, +The next, is irksome. Did you not just now, +Sick of inaction, bid us deck you out, +And, with your former energy recall'd, +Desire to go abroad, and see the light +Of day once more? You see it, and would fain +Be hidden from the sunshine that you sought. + +PHAEDRA +Thou glorious author of a hapless race, +Whose daughter 'twas my mother's boast to be, +Who well may'st blush to see me in such plight, +For the last time I come to look on thee, +O Sun! + +OENONE +What! Still are you in love with death? +Shall I ne'er see you, reconciled to life, +Forego these cruel accents of despair? + +PHAEDRA +Would I were seated in the forest's shade! +When may I follow with delighted eye, +Thro' glorious dust flying in full career, +A chariot-- + +OENONE +Madam? + +PHAEDRA +Have I lost my senses? +What said I? and where am I? Whither stray +Vain wishes? Ah! The gods have made me mad. +I blush, Oenone, and confusion covers +My face, for I have let you see too clearly +The shame of grief that, in my own despite, +O'erflows these eyes of mine. + +OENONE +If you must blush, +Blush at a silence that inflames your woes. +Resisting all my care, deaf to my voice, +Will you have no compassion on yourself, +But let your life be ended in mid course? +What evil spell has drain'd its fountain dry? +Thrice have the shades of night obscured the heav'ns +Since sleep has enter'd thro' your eyes, and thrice +The dawn has chased the darkness thence, since food +Pass'd your wan lips, and you are faint and languid. +To what dread purpose is your heart inclined? +How dare you make attempts upon your life, +And so offend the gods who gave it you, +Prove false to Theseus and your marriage vows, +Ay, and betray your most unhappy children, +Bending their necks yourself beneath the yoke? +That day, be sure, which robs them of their mother, +Will give high hopes back to the stranger's son, +To that proud enemy of you and yours, +To whom an Amazon gave birth, I mean +Hippolytus-- + +PHAEDRA +Ye gods! + +OENONE +Ah, this reproach +Moves you! + +PHAEDRA +Unhappy woman, to what name +Gave your mouth utterance? + +OENONE +Your wrath is just. +'Tis well that that ill-omen'd name can rouse +Such rage. Then live. Let love and duty urge +Their claims. Live, suffer not this son of Scythia, +Crushing your children 'neath his odious sway, +To rule the noble offspring of the gods, +The purest blood of Greece. Make no delay; +Each moment threatens death; quickly restore +Your shatter'd strength, while yet the torch of life +Holds out, and can be fann'd into a flame. + +PHAEDRA +Too long have I endured its guilt and shame! + +OENONE +Why? What remorse gnaws at your heart? What crime +Can have disturb'd you thus? Your hands are not +Polluted with the blood of innocence? + +PHAEDRA +Thanks be to Heav'n, my hands are free from stain. +Would that my soul were innocent as they! + +OENONE +What awful project have you then conceived, +Whereat your conscience should be still alarm'd? + +PHAEDRA +Have I not said enough? Spare me the rest. +I die to save myself a full confession. + +OENONE +Die then, and keep a silence so inhuman; +But seek some other hand to close your eyes. +Tho' but a spark of life remains within you, +My soul shall go before you to the Shades. +A thousand roads are always open thither; +Pain'd at your want of confidence, I'll choose +The shortest. Cruel one, when has my faith +Deceived you! Think how in my arms you lay +New born. For you, my country and my children +I have forsaken. Do you thus repay +My faithful service? + +PHAEDRA +What do you expect +From words so bitter? Were I to break silence +Horror would freeze your blood. + +OENONE +What can you say +To horrify me more than to behold +You die before my eyes? + +PHAEDRA +When you shall know +My crime, my death will follow none the less, +But with the added stain of guilt. + +OENONE +Dear Madam, +By all the tears that I have shed for you, +By these weak knees I clasp, relieve my mind +From torturing doubt. + +PHAEDRA +It is your wish. Then rise. + +OENONE +I hear you. Speak. + +PHAEDRA +Heav'ns! How shall I begin? + +OENONE +Dismiss vain fears, you wound me with distrust. + +PHAEDRA +O fatal animosity of Venus! +Into what wild distractions did she cast +My mother! + +OENONE +Be they blotted from remembrance, +And for all time to come buried in silence. + +PHAEDRA +My sister Ariadne, by what love +Were you betray'd to death, on lonely shores +Forsaken! + +OENONE +Madam, what deep-seated pain +Prompts these reproaches against all your kin? + +PHAEDRA +It is the will of Venus, and I perish, +Last, most unhappy of a family +Where all were wretched. + +OENONE +Do you love? + +PHAEDRA +I feel +All its mad fever. + +OENONE +Ah! For whom? + +PHAEDRA +Hear now +The crowning horror. Yes, I love--my lips +Tremble to say his name. + +OENONE +Whom? + +PHAEDRA +Know you him, +Son of the Amazon, whom I've oppress'd +So long? + +OENONE +Hippolytus? Great gods! + +PHAEDRA +'Tis you +Have named him. + +OENONE +All my blood within my veins +Seems frozen. O despair! O cursed race! +Ill-omen'd journey! Land of misery! +Why did we ever reach thy dangerous shores? + +PHAEDRA +My wound is not so recent. Scarcely had I +Been bound to Theseus by the marriage yoke, +And happiness and peace seem'd well secured, +When Athens show'd me my proud enemy. +I look'd, alternately turn'd pale and blush'd +To see him, and my soul grew all distraught; +A mist obscured my vision, and my voice +Falter'd, my blood ran cold, then burn'd like fire; +Venus I felt in all my fever'd frame, +Whose fury had so many of my race +Pursued. With fervent vows I sought to shun +Her torments, built and deck'd for her a shrine, +And there, 'mid countless victims did I seek +The reason I had lost; but all for naught, +No remedy could cure the wounds of love! +In vain I offer'd incense on her altars; +When I invoked her name my heart adored +Hippolytus, before me constantly; +And when I made her altars smoke with victims, +'Twas for a god whose name I dared not utter. +I fled his presence everywhere, but found him-- +O crowning horror!--in his father's features. +Against myself, at last, I raised revolt, +And stirr'd my courage up to persecute +The enemy I loved. To banish him +I wore a step--dame's harsh and jealous carriage, +With ceaseless cries I clamour'd for his exile, +Till I had torn him from his father's arms. +I breathed once more, Oenone; in his absence +My days flow'd on less troubled than before, +And innocent. Submissive to my husband, +I hid my grief, and of our fatal marriage +Cherish'd the fruits. Vain caution! Cruel Fate! +Brought hither by my spouse himself, I saw +Again the enemy whom I had banish'd, +And the old wound too quickly bled afresh. +No longer is it love hid in my heart, +But Venus in her might seizing her prey. +I have conceived just terror for my crime; +I hate my life, and hold my love in horror. +Dying I wish'd to keep my fame unsullied, +And bury in the grave a guilty passion; +But I have been unable to withstand +Tears and entreaties, I have told you all; +Content, if only, as my end draws near, +You do not vex me with unjust reproaches, +Nor with vain efforts seek to snatch from death +The last faint lingering sparks of vital breath. + + + +SCENE IV +PHAEDRA, OENONE, PANOPE + + +PANOPE +Fain would I hide from you tidings so sad, +But 'tis my duty, Madam, to reveal them. +The hand of death has seized your peerless husband, +And you are last to hear of this disaster. + +OENONE +What say you, Panope? + +PANOPE +The queen, deceived +By a vain trust in Heav'n, begs safe return +For Theseus, while Hippolytus his son +Learns of his death from vessels that are now +In port. + +PHAEDRA +Ye gods! + +PANOPE +Divided counsels sway +The choice of Athens; some would have the prince, +Your child, for master; others, disregarding +The laws, dare to support the stranger's son. +'Tis even said that a presumptuous faction +Would crown Aricia and the house of Pallas. +I deem'd it right to warn you of this danger. +Hippolytus already is prepared +To start, and should he show himself at Athens, +'Tis to be fear'd the fickle crowd will all +Follow his lead. + +OENONE +Enough. The queen, who hears you, +By no means will neglect this timely warning. + + + +SCENE V +PHAEDRA, OENONE + + +OENONE +Dear lady, I had almost ceased to urge +The wish that you should live, thinking to follow +My mistress to the tomb, from which my voice +Had fail'd to turn you; but this new misfortune +Alters the aspect of affairs, and prompts +Fresh measures. Madam, Theseus is no more, +You must supply his place. He leaves a son, +A slave, if you should die, but, if you live, +A King. On whom has he to lean but you? +No hand but yours will dry his tears. Then live +For him, or else the tears of innocence +Will move the gods, his ancestors, to wrath +Against his mother. Live, your guilt is gone, +No blame attaches to your passion now. +The King's decease has freed you from the bonds +That made the crime and horror of your love. +Hippolytus no longer need be dreaded, +Him you may see henceforth without reproach. +It may be, that, convinced of your aversion, +He means to head the rebels. Undeceive him, +Soften his callous heart, and bend his pride. +King of this fertile land, in Troezen here +His portion lies; but as he knows, the laws +Give to your son the ramparts that Minerva +Built and protects. A common enemy +Threatens you both, unite them to oppose +Aricia. + +PHAEDRA +To your counsel I consent. +Yes, I will live, if life can be restored, +If my affection for a son has pow'r +To rouse my sinking heart at such a dangerous hour. + + + + +ACT II + +SCENE I +ARICIA, ISMENE + + +ARICIA +Hippolytus request to see me here! +Hippolytus desire to bid farewell! +Is't true, Ismene? Are you not deceived? + +ISMENE +This is the first result of Theseus' death. +Prepare yourself to see from every side. +Hearts turn towards you that were kept away +By Theseus. Mistress of her lot at last, +Aricia soon shall find all Greece fall low, +To do her homage. + +ARICIA +'Tis not then, Ismene, +An idle tale? Am I no more a slave? +Have I no enemies? + +ISMENE +The gods oppose +Your peace no longer, and the soul of Theseus +Is with your brothers. + +ARICIA +Does the voice of fame +Tell how he died? + +ISMENE +Rumours incredible +Are spread. Some say that, seizing a new bride, +The faithless husband by the waves was swallow'd. +Others affirm, and this report prevails, +That with Pirithous to the world below +He went, and saw the shores of dark Cocytus, +Showing himself alive to the pale ghosts; +But that he could not leave those gloomy realms, +Which whoso enters there abides for ever. + +ARICIA +Shall I believe that ere his destined hour +A mortal may descend into the gulf +Of Hades? What attraction could o'ercome +Its terrors? + +ISMENE +He is dead, and you alone +Doubt it. The men of Athens mourn his loss. +Troezen already hails Hippolytus +As King. And Phaedra, fearing for her son, +Asks counsel of the friends who share her trouble, +Here in this palace. + +ARICIA +Will Hippolytus, +Think you, prove kinder than his sire, make light +My chains, and pity my misfortunes? + +ISMENE +Yes, +I think so, Madam. + +ARICIA +Ah, you know him not +Or you would never deem so hard a heart +Can pity feel, or me alone except +From the contempt in which he holds our sex. +Has he not long avoided every spot +Where we resort? + +ISMENE +I know what tales are told +Of proud Hippolytus, but I have seen +Him near you, and have watch'd with curious eye +How one esteem'd so cold would bear himself. +Little did his behavior correspond +With what I look'd for; in his face confusion +Appear'd at your first glance, he could not turn +His languid eyes away, but gazed on you. +Love is a word that may offend his pride, +But what the tongue disowns, looks can betray. + +ARICIA +How eagerly my heart hears what you say, +Tho' it may be delusion, dear Ismene! +Did it seem possible to you, who know me, +That I, sad sport of a relentless Fate, +Fed upon bitter tears by night and day, +Could ever taste the maddening draught of love? +The last frail offspring of a royal race, +Children of Earth, I only have survived +War's fury. Cut off in the flow'r of youth, +Mown by the sword, six brothers have I lost, +The hope of an illustrious house, whose blood +Earth drank with sorrow, near akin to his +Whom she herself produced. Since then, you know +How thro' all Greece no heart has been allow'd +To sigh for me, lest by a sister's flame +The brothers' ashes be perchance rekindled. +You know, besides, with what disdain I view'd +My conqueror's suspicions and precautions, +And how, oppos'd as I have ever been +To love, I often thank'd the King's injustice +Which happily confirm'd my inclination. +But then I never had beheld his son. +Not that, attracted merely by the eye, I +love him for his beauty and his grace, +Endowments which he owes to Nature's bounty, +Charms which he seems to know not or to scorn. +I love and prize in him riches more rare, +The virtues of his sire, without his faults. +I love, as I must own, that generous pride +Which ne'er has stoop'd beneath the amorous yoke. +Phaedra reaps little glory from a lover +So lavish of his sighs; I am too proud +To share devotion with a thousand others, +Or enter where the door is always open. +But to make one who ne'er has stoop'd before +Bend his proud neck, to pierce a heart of stone, +To bind a captive whom his chains astonish, +Who vainly 'gainst a pleasing yoke rebels,-- +That piques my ardour, and I long for that. +'Twas easier to disarm the god of strength +Than this Hippolytus, for Hercules +Yielded so often to the eyes of beauty, +As to make triumph cheap. But, dear Ismene, +I take too little heed of opposition +Beyond my pow'r to quell, and you may hear me, +Humbled by sore defeat, upbraid the pride +I now admire. What! Can he love? and I +Have had the happiness to bend-- + +ISMENE +He comes +Yourself shall hear him. + + + +SCENE II +HIPPOLYTUS, ARICIA, ISMENE + + +HIPPOLYTUS +Lady, ere I go +My duty bids me tell you of your change +Of fortune. My worst fears are realized; +My sire is dead. Yes, his protracted absence +Was caused as I foreboded. Death alone, +Ending his toils, could keep him from the world +Conceal'd so long. The gods at last have doom'd +Alcides' friend, companion, and successor. +I think your hatred, tender to his virtues, +Can hear such terms of praise without resentment, +Knowing them due. One hope have I that soothes +My sorrow: I can free you from restraint. +Lo, I revoke the laws whose rigour moved +My pity; you are at your own disposal, +Both heart and hand; here, in my heritage, +In Troezen, where my grandsire Pittheus reign'd +Of yore and I am now acknowledged King, +I leave you free, free as myself,--and more. + +ARICIA +Your kindness is too great, 'tis overwhelming. +Such generosity, that pays disgrace +With honour, lends more force than you can think +To those harsh laws from which you would release me. + +HIPPOLYTUS +Athens, uncertain how to fill the throne +Of Theseus, speaks of you, anon of me, +And then of Phaedra's son. + +ARICIA +Of me, my lord? + +HIPPOLYTUS +I know myself excluded by strict law: +Greece turns to my reproach a foreign mother. +But if my brother were my only rival, +My rights prevail o'er his clearly enough +To make me careless of the law's caprice. +My forwardness is check'd by juster claims: +To you I yield my place, or, rather, own +That it is yours by right, and yours the sceptre, +As handed down from Earth's great son, Erechtheus. +Adoption placed it in the hands of Aegeus: +Athens, by him protected and increased, +Welcomed a king so generous as my sire, +And left your hapless brothers in oblivion. +Now she invites you back within her walls; +Protracted strife has cost her groans enough, +Her fields are glutted with your kinsmen's blood +Fatt'ning the furrows out of which it sprung +At first. I rule this Troezen; while the son +Of Phaedra has in Crete a rich domain. +Athens is yours. I will do all I can +To join for you the votes divided now +Between us. + +ARICIA +Stunn'd at all I hear, my lord, +I fear, I almost fear a dream deceives me. +Am I indeed awake? Can I believe +Such generosity? What god has put it +Into your heart? Well is the fame deserved +That you enjoy! That fame falls short of truth! +Would you for me prove traitor to yourself? +Was it not boon enough never to hate me, +So long to have abstain'd from harbouring +The enmity-- + +HIPPOLYTUS +To hate you? I, to hate you? +However darkly my fierce pride was painted, +Do you suppose a monster gave me birth? +What savage temper, what envenom'd hatred +Would not be mollified at sight of you? +Could I resist the soul-bewitching charm-- + +ARICIA +Why, what is this, Sir? + +HIPPOLYTUS +I have said too much +Not to say more. Prudence in vain resists +The violence of passion. I have broken +Silence at last, and I must tell you now +The secret that my heart can hold no longer. +You see before you an unhappy instance +Of hasty pride, a prince who claims compassion +I, who, so long the enemy of Love, +Mock'd at his fetters and despised his captives, +Who, pitying poor mortals that were shipwreck'd, +In seeming safety view'd the storms from land, +Now find myself to the same fate exposed, +Toss'd to and fro upon a sea of troubles! +My boldness has been vanquish'd in a moment, +And humbled is the pride wherein I boasted. +For nearly six months past, ashamed, despairing, +Bearing where'er I go the shaft that rends +My heart, I struggle vainly to be free +From you and from myself; I shun you, present; +Absent, I find you near; I see your form +In the dark forest depths; the shades of night, +Nor less broad daylight, bring back to my view +The charms that I avoid; all things conspire +To make Hippolytus your slave. For fruit +Of all my bootless sighs, I fail to find +My former self. My bow and javelins +Please me no more, my chariot is forgotten, +With all the Sea God's lessons; and the woods +Echo my groans instead of joyous shouts +Urging my fiery steeds. + +Hearing this tale +Of passion so uncouth, you blush perchance +At your own handiwork. With what wild words +I offer you my heart, strange captive held +By silken jess! But dearer in your eyes +Should be the offering, that this language comes +Strange to my lips; reject not vows express'd +So ill, which but for you had ne'er been form'd. + + + +SCENE III +HIPPOLYTUS, ARICIA, THERAMENES, ISMENE + + +THERAMENES +Prince, the Queen comes. I herald her approach. +'Tis you she seeks. + +HIPPOLYTUS +Me? + +THERAMENES +What her thought may be +I know not. But I speak on her behalf. +She would converse with you ere you go hence. + +HIPPOLYTUS +What shall I say to her? Can she expect-- + +ARICIA +You cannot, noble Prince, refuse to hear her, +Howe'er convinced she is your enemy, +Some shade of pity to her tears is due. + +HIPPOLYTUS +Shall we part thus? and will you let me go, +Not knowing if my boldness has offended +The goddess I adore? Whether this heart, +Left in your hands-- + +ARICIA +Go, Prince, pursue the schemes +Your generous soul dictates, make Athens own +My sceptre. All the gifts you offer me +Will I accept, but this high throne of empire +Is not the one most precious in my sight. + + + +SCENE IV +HIPPOLYTUS, THERAMENES + + +HIPPOLYTUS +Friend, is all ready? +But the Queen approaches. +Go, see the vessel in fit trim to sail. +Haste, bid the crew aboard, and hoist the signal: +Then soon return, and so deliver me +From interview most irksome. + + + +SCENE V +PHAEDRA, HIPPOLYTUS, OENONE + + +PHAEDRA (to OENONE) +There I see him! +My blood forgets to flow, my tongue to speak +What I am come to say. + +OENONE +Think of your son, +How all his hopes depend on you. + +PHAEDRA +I hear +You leave us, and in haste. I come to add +My tears to your distress, and for a son +Plead my alarm. No more has he a father, +And at no distant day my son must witness +My death. Already do a thousand foes +Threaten his youth. You only can defend him +But in my secret heart remorse awakes, +And fear lest I have shut your ears against +His cries. I tremble lest your righteous anger +Visit on him ere long the hatred earn'd +By me, his mother. + +HIPPOLYTUS +No such base resentment, +Madam, is mine. + +PHAEDRA +I could not blame you, Prince, +If you should hate me. I have injured you: +So much you know, but could not read my heart. +T' incur your enmity has been mine aim. +The self-same borders could not hold us both; +In public and in private I declared +Myself your foe, and found no peace till seas +Parted us from each other. I forbade +Your very name to be pronounced before me. +And yet if punishment should be proportion'd +To the offence, if only hatred draws +Your hatred, never woman merited +More pity, less deserved your enmity. + +HIPPOLYTUS +A mother jealous of her children's rights +Seldom forgives the offspring of a wife +Who reign'd before her. Harassing suspicions +Are common sequels of a second marriage. +Of me would any other have been jealous +No less than you, perhaps more violent. + +PHAEDRA +Ah, Prince, how Heav'n has from the general law +Made me exempt, be that same Heav'n my witness! +Far different is the trouble that devours me! + +HIPPOLYTUS +This is no time for self-reproaches, Madam. +It may be that your husband still beholds +The light, and Heav'n may grant him safe return, +In answer to our prayers. His guardian god +Is Neptune, ne'er by him invoked in vain. + +PHAEDRA +He who has seen the mansions of the dead +Returns not thence. Since to those gloomy shores +Theseus is gone, 'tis vain to hope that Heav'n +May send him back. Prince, there is no release +From Acheron's greedy maw. And yet, methinks, +He lives, and breathes in you. I see him still +Before me, and to him I seem to speak; +My heart-- +Oh! I am mad; do what I will, +I cannot hide my passion. + +HIPPOLYTUS +Yes, I see +The strange effects of love. Theseus, tho' dead, +Seems present to your eyes, for in your soul +There burns a constant flame. + +PHAEDRA +Ah, yes for Theseus +I languish and I long, not as the Shades +Have seen him, of a thousand different forms +The fickle lover, and of Pluto's bride +The would-be ravisher, but faithful, proud +E'en to a slight disdain, with youthful charms +Attracting every heart, as gods are painted, +Or like yourself. He had your mien, your eyes, +Spoke and could blush like you, when to the isle +Of Crete, my childhood's home, he cross'd the waves, +Worthy to win the love of Minos' daughters. +What were you doing then? Why did he gather +The flow'r of Greece, and leave Hippolytus? +Oh, why were you too young to have embark'd +On board the ship that brought thy sire to Crete? +At your hands would the monster then have perish'd, +Despite the windings of his vast retreat. +To guide your doubtful steps within the maze +My sister would have arm'd you with the clue. +But no, therein would Phaedra have forestall'd her, +Love would have first inspired me with the thought; +And I it would have been whose timely aid +Had taught you all the labyrinth's crooked ways. +What anxious care a life so dear had cost me! +No thread had satisfied your lover's fears: +I would myself have wish'd to lead the way, +And share the peril you were bound to face; +Phaedra with you would have explored the maze, +With you emerged in safety, or have perish'd. + +HIPPOLYTUS +Gods! What is this I hear? Have you forgotten +That Theseus is my father and your husband? + +PHAEDRA +Why should you fancy I have lost remembrance +Thereof, and am regardless of mine honour? + +HIPPOLYTUS +Forgive me, Madam. With a blush I own +That I misconstrued words of innocence. +For very shame I cannot bear your sight +Longer. I go-- + +PHAEDRA +Ah! cruel Prince, too well +You understood me. I have said enough +To save you from mistake. I love. But think not +That at the moment when I love you most +I do not feel my guilt; no weak compliance +Has fed the poison that infects my brain. +The ill-starr'd object of celestial vengeance, +I am not so detestable to you +As to myself. The gods will bear me witness, +Who have within my veins kindled this fire, +The gods, who take a barbarous delight +In leading a poor mortal's heart astray. +Do you yourself recall to mind the past: +'Twas not enough for me to fly, I chased you +Out of the country, wishing to appear +Inhuman, odious; to resist you better, +I sought to make you hate me. All in vain! +Hating me more I loved you none the less: +New charms were lent to you by your misfortunes. +I have been drown'd in tears, and scorch'd by fire; +Your own eyes might convince you of the truth, +If for one moment you could look at me. +What is't I say? Think you this vile confession +That I have made is what I meant to utter? +Not daring to betray a son for whom +I trembled, 'twas to beg you not to hate him +I came. Weak purpose of a heart too full +Of love for you to speak of aught besides! +Take your revenge, punish my odious passion; +Prove yourself worthy of your valiant sire, +And rid the world of an offensive monster! +Does Theseus' widow dare to love his son? +The frightful monster! Let her not escape you! +Here is my heart. This is the place to strike. +Already prompt to expiate its guilt, +I feel it leap impatiently to meet +Your arm. Strike home. Or, if it would disgrace you +To steep your hand in such polluted blood, +If that were punishment too mild to slake +Your hatred, lend me then your sword, if not +Your arm. Quick, give't. + +OENONE +What, Madam, will you do? +Just gods! But someone comes. Go, fly from shame, +You cannot 'scape if seen by any thus. + + + +SCENE VI +HIPPOLYTUS, THERAMENES + + +THERAMENES +Is that the form of Phaedra that I see +Hurried away? What mean these signs of sorrow? +Where is your sword? Why are you pale, confused? + +HIPPOLYTUS +Friend, let us fly. I am, indeed, confounded +With horror and astonishment extreme. +Phaedra--but no; gods, let this dreadful secret +Remain for ever buried in oblivion. + +THERAMENES +The ship is ready if you wish to sail. +But Athens has already giv'n her vote; +Their leaders have consulted all her tribes; +Your brother is elected, Phaedra wins. + +HIPPOLYTUS +Phaedra? + +THERAMENES +A herald, charged with a commission +From Athens, has arrived to place the reins +Of power in her hands. Her son is King. + +HIPPOLYTUS +Ye gods, who know her, do ye thus reward +Her virtue? + +THERAMENES +A faint rumour meanwhile whispers +That Theseus is not dead, but in Epirus +Has shown himself. But, after all my search, +I know too well-- + +HIPPOLYTUS +Let nothing be neglected. +This rumour must be traced back to its source. +If it be found unworthy of belief, +Let us set sail, and cost whate'er it may, +To hands deserving trust the sceptre's sway. + + + + +Act III + +Scene I +PHAEDRA, OENONE + + +PHAEDRA +Ah! Let them take elsewhere the worthless honours +They bring me. Why so urgent I should see them? +What flattering balm can soothe my wounded heart? +Far rather hide me: I have said too much. +My madness has burst forth like streams in flood, +And I have utter'd what should ne'er have reach'd +His ear. Gods! How he heard me! How reluctant +To catch my meaning, dull and cold as marble, +And eager only for a quick retreat! +How oft his blushes made my shame the deeper! +Why did you turn me from the death I sought? +Ah! When his sword was pointed to my bosom, +Did he grow pale, or try to snatch it from me? +That I had touch'd it was enough for him +To render it for ever horrible, +Leaving defilement on the hand that holds it. + +OENONE +Thus brooding on your bitter disappointment, +You only fan a fire that must be stifled. +Would it not be more worthy of the blood +Of Minos to find peace in nobler cares, +And, in defiance of a wretch who flies +From what he hates, reign, mount the proffer'd throne? + +PHAEDRA +I reign! Shall I the rod of empire sway, +When reason reigns no longer o'er myself? +When I have lost control of all my senses? +When 'neath a shameful yoke I scarce can breathe? +When I am dying? + +OENONE +Fly. + +PHAEDRA +I cannot leave him. + +OENONE +Dare you not fly from him you dared to banish? + +PHAEDRA +The time for that is past. He knows my frenzy. +I have o'erstepp'd the bounds of modesty, +And blazon'd forth my shame before his eyes. +Hope stole into my heart against my will. +Did you not rally my declining pow'rs? +Was it not you yourself recall'd my soul +When fluttering on my lips, and with your counsel, +Lent me fresh life, and told me I might love him? + +OENONE +Blame me or blame me not for your misfortunes, +Of what was I incapable, to save you? +But if your indignation e'er was roused +By insult, can you pardon his contempt? +How cruelly his eyes, severely fix'd, +Survey'd you almost prostrate at his feet! +How hateful then appear'd his savage pride! +Why did not Phaedra see him then as I +Beheld him? + +PHAEDRA +This proud mood that you resent +May yield to time. The rudeness of the forests +Where he was bred, inured to rigorous laws, +Clings to him still; love is a word he ne'er +Had heard before. It may be his surprise +Stunn'd him, and too much vehemence was shown +In all I said. + +OENONE +Remember that his mother +Was a barbarian. + +PHAEDRA +Scythian tho' she was, +She learned to love. + +OENONE +He has for all the sex +Hatred intense. + +PHAEDRA +Then in his heart no rival +Shall ever reign. Your counsel comes too late +Oenone, serve my madness, not my reason. +His heart is inaccessible to love. +Let us attack him where he has more feeling. +The charms of sovereignty appear'd to touch him; +He could not hide that he was drawn to Athens; +His vessels' prows were thither turn'd already, +All sail was set to scud before the breeze. +Go you on my behalf, to his ambition +Appeal, and let the prospect of the crown +Dazzle his eyes. The sacred diadem +Shall deck his brow, no higher honour mine +Than there to bind it. His shall be the pow'r +I cannot keep; and he shall teach my son +How to rule men. It may be he will deign +To be to him a father. Son and mother +He shall control. Try ev'ry means to move him; +Your words will find more favour than can mine. +Urge him with groans and tears; show Phaedra dying. +Nor blush to use the voice of supplication. +In you is my last hope; I'll sanction all +You say; and on the issue hangs my fate. + + + +Scene II + + +PHAEDRA (alone) +Venus implacable, who seest me shamed +And sore confounded, have I not enough +Been humbled? How can cruelty be stretch'd +Farther? Thy shafts have all gone home, and thou +Hast triumph'd. Would'st thou win a new renown? +Attack an enemy more contumacious: +Hippolytus neglects thee, braves thy wrath, +Nor ever at thine altars bow'd the knee. +Thy name offends his proud, disdainful ears. +Our interests are alike: avenge thyself, +Force him to love-- +But what is this? Oenone +Return'd already? He detests me then, +And will not hear you. + + + +SCENE III +PHAEDRA, OENONE + + +OENONE +Madam, you must stifle +A fruitless love. Recall your former virtue: +The king who was thought dead will soon appear +Before your eyes, Theseus has just arrived, +Theseus is here. The people flock to see him +With eager haste. I went by your command +To find the prince, when with a thousand shouts +The air was rent-- + +PHAEDRA +My husband is alive, +That is enough, Oenone. I have own'd +A passion that dishonours him. He lives: +I ask to know no more. + +OENONE +What? + +PHAEDRA +I foretold it, +But you refused to hear. Your tears prevail'd +Over my just remorse. Dying this morn, +I had deserved compassion; your advice +I took, and die dishonour'd. + +OENONE +Die? + +PHAEDRA +Just Heav'ns! +What have I done to-day? My husband comes, +With him his son: and I shall see the witness +Of my adulterous flame watch with what face +I greet his father, while my heart is big +With sighs he scorn'd, and tears that could not move him +Moisten mine eyes. Think you that his respect +For Theseus will induce him to conceal +My madness, nor disgrace his sire and king? +Will he be able to keep back the horror +He has for me? His silence would be vain. +I know my treason, and I lack the boldness +Of those abandon'd women who can taste +Tranquillity in crime, and show a forehead +All unabash'd. I recognize my madness, +Recall it all. These vaulted roofs, methinks, +These walls can speak, and, ready to accuse me, +Wait but my husband's presence to reveal +My perfidy. Death only can remove +This weight of horror. Is it such misfortune +To cease to live? Death causes no alarm +To misery. I only fear the name +That I shall leave behind me. For my sons +How sad a heritage! The blood of Jove +Might justly swell the pride that boasts descent +From Heav'n, but heavy weighs a mother's guilt +Upon her offspring. Yes, I dread the scorn +That will be cast on them, with too much truth, +For my disgrace. I tremble when I think +That, crush'd beneath that curse, they'll never dare +To raise their eyes. + +OENONE +Doubt not I pity both; +Never was fear more just than yours. Why, then, +Expose them to this ignominy? Why +Will you accuse yourself? You thus destroy +The only hope that's left; it will be said +That Phaedra, conscious of her perfidy, +Fled from her husband's sight. Hippolytus +Will be rejoiced that, dying, you should lend +His charge support. What can I answer him? +He'll find it easy to confute my tale, +And I shall hear him with an air of triumph +To every open ear repeat your shame. +Sooner than that may fire from heav'n consume me! +Deceive me not. Say, do you love him still? +How look you now on this contemptuous prince? + +PHAEDRA +As on a monster frightful to mine eyes. + +OENONE +Why yield him, then, an easy victory? +You fear him? Venture to accuse him first, +As guilty of the charge which he may bring +This day against you. Who can say 'tis false? +All tells against him: in your hands his sword +Happily left behind, your present trouble, +Your past distress, your warnings to his father, +His exile which your earnest pray'rs obtain'd. + +PHAEDRA +What! Would you have me slander innocence? + +OENONE +My zeal has need of naught from you but silence. +Like you I tremble, and am loath to do it; +More willingly I'd face a thousand deaths, +But since without this bitter remedy +I lose you, and to me your life outweighs +All else, I'll speak. Theseus, howe'er enraged +Will do no worse than banish him again. +A father, when he punishes, remains +A father, and his ire is satisfied +With a light sentence. But if guiltless blood +Should flow, is not your honour of more moment? +A treasure far too precious to be risk'd? +You must submit, whatever it dictates; +For, when our reputation is at stake, +All must be sacrificed, conscience itself. +But someone comes. 'Tis Theseus. + +PHAEDRA +And I see +Hippolytus, my ruin plainly written +In his stern eyes. Do what you will; I trust +My fate to you. I cannot help myself. + + + +SCENE IV +THESEUS, HIPPOLYTUS, PHAEDRA, OENONE, THERAMENES + + +THESEUS +Fortune no longer fights against my wishes, +Madam, and to your arms restores-- + +PHAEDRA +Stay, Theseus! +Do not profane endearments that were once +So sweet, but which I am unworthy now +To taste. You have been wrong'd. Fortune has proved +Spiteful, nor in your absence spared your wife. +I am unfit to meet your fond caress, +How I may bear my shame my only care +Henceforth. + + + +Scene V +THESEUS, HIPPOLYTUS, THERAMENES + + +THESEUS +Strange welcome for your father, this! +What does it mean, my son? + +HIPPOLYTUS +Phaedra alone +Can solve this mystery. But if my wish +Can move you, let me never see her more; +Suffer Hippolytus to disappear +For ever from the home that holds your wife. + +THESEUS +You, my son! Leave me? + +HIPPOLYTUS +'Twas not I who sought her: +'Twas you who led her footsteps to these shores. +At your departure you thought meet, my lord, +To trust Aricia and the Queen to this +Troezenian land, and I myself was charged +With their protection. But what cares henceforth +Need keep me here? My youth of idleness +Has shown its skill enough o'er paltry foes +That range the woods. May I not quit a life +Of such inglorious ease, and dip my spear +In nobler blood? Ere you had reach'd my age +More than one tyrant, monster more than one +Had felt the weight of your stout arm. Already, +Successful in attacking insolence, +You had removed all dangers that infested +Our coasts to east and west. The traveller fear'd +Outrage no longer. Hearing of your deeds, +Already Hercules relied on you, +And rested from his toils. While I, unknown +Son of so brave a sire, am far behind +Even my mother's footsteps. Let my courage +Have scope to act, and if some monster yet +Has 'scaped you, let me lay the glorious spoils +Down at your feet; or let the memory +Of death faced nobly keep my name alive, +And prove to all the world I was your son. + +THESEUS +Why, what is this? What terror has possess'd +My family to make them fly before me? +If I return to find myself so fear'd, +So little welcome, why did Heav'n release me +From prison? My sole friend, misled by passion, +Was bent on robbing of his wife the tyrant +Who ruled Epirus. With regret I lent +The lover aid, but Fate had made us blind, +Myself as well as him. The tyrant seized me +Defenceless and unarm'd. Pirithous +I saw with tears cast forth to be devour'd +By savage beasts that lapp'd the blood of men. +Myself in gloomy caverns he inclosed, +Deep in the bowels of the earth, and nigh +To Pluto's realms. Six months I lay ere Heav'n +Had pity, and I 'scaped the watchful eyes +That guarded me. Then did I purge the world +Of a foul foe, and he himself has fed +His monsters. But when with expectant joy +To all that is most precious I draw near +Of what the gods have left me, when my soul +Looks for full satisfaction in a sight +So dear, my only welcome is a shudder, +Embrace rejected, and a hasty flight. +Inspiring, as I clearly do, such terror, +Would I were still a prisoner in Epirus! +Phaedra complains that I have suffer'd outrage. +Who has betray'd me? Speak. Why was I not +Avenged? Has Greece, to whom mine arm so oft +Brought useful aid, shelter'd the criminal? +You make no answer. Is my son, mine own +Dear son, confederate with mine enemies? +I'll enter. This suspense is overwhelming. +I'll learn at once the culprit and the crime, +And Phaedra must explain her troubled state. + + + +Scene VI +HIPPOLYTUS, THERAMENES + + +HIPPOLYTUS +What do these words portend, which seem'd to freeze +My very blood? Will Phaedra, in her frenzy +Accuse herself, and seal her own destruction? +What will the King say? Gods! What fatal poison +Has love spread over all his house! Myself, +Full of a fire his hatred disapproves, +How changed he finds me from the son he knew! +With dark forebodings in my mind alarm'd, +But innocence has surely naught to fear. +Come, let us go, and in some other place +Consider how I best may move my sire +To tenderness, and tell him of a flame +Vex'd but not vanquish'd by a father's blame. + + + + +Act IV + +Scene I +THESEUS, OENONE + + +THESEUS +Ah! What is this I hear? Presumptuous traitor! +And would he have disgraced his father's honour? +With what relentless footsteps Fate pursues me! +Whither I go I know not, nor where know +I am. O kind affection ill repaid! +Audacious scheme! Abominable thought! +To reach the object of his foul desire +The wretch disdain'd not to use violence. +I know this sword that served him in his fury, +The sword I gave him for a nobler use. +Could not the sacred ties of blood restrain him? +And Phaedra,--was she loath to have him punish'd? +She held her tongue. Was that to spare the culprit? + +OENONE +Nay, but to spare a most unhappy father. +O'erwhelm'd with shame that her eyes should have kindled +So infamous a flame and prompted him +To crime so heinous, Phaedra would have died. +I saw her raise her arm, and ran to save her. +To me alone you owe it that she lives; +And, in my pity both for her and you, +Have I against my will interpreted +Her tears. + +THESEUS +The traitor! He might well turn pale. +'Twas fear that made him tremble when he saw me. +I was astonish'd that he show'd no pleasure; +His frigid greeting chill'd my tenderness. +But was this guilty passion that devours him +Declared already ere I banish'd him +From Athens? + +OENONE +Sire, remember how the Queen +Urged you. Illicit love caused all her hatred. + +THESEUS +And then this fire broke out again at Troezen? + +OENONE +Sire, I have told you all. Too long the Queen +Has been allow'd to bear her grief alone +Let me now leave you and attend to her. + + + +Scene II +THESEUS, HIPPOLYTUS + + +THESEUS +Ah! There he is. Great gods! That noble mien +Might well deceive an eye less fond than mine! +Why should the sacred stamp of virtue gleam +Upon the forehead of an impious wretch? +Ought not the blackness of a traitor's heart +To show itself by sure and certain signs? + +HIPPOLYTUS +My father, may I ask what fatal cloud +Has troubled your majestic countenance? +Dare you not trust this secret to your son? + +THESEUS +Traitor, how dare you show yourself before me? +Monster, whom Heaven's bolts have spared too long! +Survivor of that robber crew whereof +I cleansed the earth. After your brutal lust +Scorn'd even to respect my marriage bed, +You venture--you, my hated foe--to come +Into my presence, here, where all is full +Of your foul infamy, instead of seeking +Some unknown land that never heard my name. +Fly, traitor, fly! Stay not to tempt the wrath +That I can scarce restrain, nor brave my hatred. +Disgrace enough have I incurr'd for ever +In being father of so vile a son, +Without your death staining indelibly +The glorious record of my noble deeds. +Fly, and unless you wish quick punishment +To add you to the criminals cut off +By me, take heed this sun that lights us now +Ne'er sees you more set foot upon this soil. +I tell you once again,--fly, haste, return not, +Rid all my realms of your atrocious presence. +To thee, to thee, great Neptune, I appeal +If erst I clear'd thy shores of foul assassins +Recall thy promise to reward those efforts, +Crown'd with success, by granting my first pray'r. +Confined for long in close captivity, +I have not yet call'd on thy pow'rful aid, +Sparing to use the valued privilege +Till at mine utmost need. The time is come +I ask thee now. Avenge a wretched father! +I leave this traitor to thy wrath; in blood +Quench his outrageous fires, and by thy fury +Theseus will estimate thy favour tow'rds him. + +HIPPOLYTUS +Phaedra accuses me of lawless passion! +This crowning horror all my soul confounds; +Such unexpected blows, falling at once, +O'erwhelm me, choke my utterance, strike me dumb. + +THESEUS +Traitor, you reckon'd that in timid silence +Phaedra would bury your brutality. +You should not have abandon'd in your flight +The sword that in her hands helps to condemn you; +Or rather, to complete your perfidy, +You should have robb'd her both of speech and life. + +HIPPOLYTUS +Justly indignant at a lie so black +I might be pardon'd if I told the truth; +But it concerns your honour to conceal it. +Approve the reverence that shuts my mouth; +And, without wishing to increase your woes, +Examine closely what my life has been. +Great crimes are never single, they are link'd +To former faults. He who has once transgress'd +May violate at last all that men hold +Most sacred; vice, like virtue, has degrees +Of progress; innocence was never seen +To sink at once into the lowest depths +Of guilt. No virtuous man can in a day +Turn traitor, murderer, an incestuous wretch. +The nursling of a chaste, heroic mother, +I have not proved unworthy of my birth. +Pittheus, whose wisdom is by all esteem'd, +Deign'd to instruct me when I left her hands. +It is no wish of mine to vaunt my merits, +But, if I may lay claim to any virtue, +I think beyond all else I have display'd +Abhorrence of those sins with which I'm charged. +For this Hippolytus is known in Greece, +So continent that he is deem'd austere. +All know my abstinence inflexible: +The daylight is not purer than my heart. +How, then, could I, burning with fire profane-- + +THESEUS +Yes, dastard, 'tis that very pride condemns you. +I see the odious reason of your coldness +Phaedra alone bewitch'd your shameless eyes; +Your soul, to others' charms indifferent, +Disdain'd the blameless fires of lawful love. + +HIPPOLYTUS +No, father, I have hidden it too long, +This heart has not disdain'd a sacred flame. +Here at your feet I own my real offence: +I love, and love in truth where you forbid me; +Bound to Aricia by my heart's devotion, +The child of Pallas has subdued your son. +A rebel to your laws, her I adore, +And breathe forth ardent sighs for her alone. + +THESEUS +You love her? Heav'ns! +But no, I see the trick. +You feign a crime to justify yourself. + +HIPPOLYTUS +Sir, I have shunn'd her for six months, and still +Love her. To you yourself I came to tell it, +Trembling the while. Can nothing clear your mind +Of your mistake? What oath can reassure you? +By heav'n and earth and all the pow'rs of nature-- + +THESEUS +The wicked never shrink from perjury. +Cease, cease, and spare me irksome protestations, +If your false virtue has no other aid. + +HIPPOLYTUS +Tho' it to you seem false and insincere, +Phaedra has secret cause to know it true. + +THESEUS +Ah! how your shamelessness excites my wrath! + +HIPPOLYTUS +What is my term and place of banishment? + +THESEUS +Were you beyond the Pillars of Alcides, +Your perjured presence were too near me yet. + +HIPPOLYTUS +What friends will pity me, when you forsake +And think me guilty of a crime so vile? + +THESEUS +Go, look you out for friends who hold in honour +Adultery and clap their hands at incest, +Low, lawless traitors, steep'd in infamy, +The fit protectors of a knave like you. + +HIPPOLYTUS +Are incest and adultery the words +You cast at me? I hold my tongue. Yet think +What mother Phaedra had; too well you know +Her blood, not mine, is tainted with those horrors. + +THESEUS +What! Does your rage before my eyes lose all +Restraint? For the last time,--out of my sight! +Hence, traitor! Wait not till a father's wrath +Force thee away 'mid general execration. + + + +Scene III + + +THESEUS (alone) +Wretch! Thou must meet inevitable ruin. +Neptune has sworn by Styx--to gods themselves +A dreadful oath,--and he will execute +His promise. Thou canst not escape his vengeance. +I loved thee; and, in spite of thine offence, +My heart is troubled by anticipation +For thee. But thou hast earn'd thy doom too well. +Had father ever greater cause for rage? +Just gods, who see the grief that overwhelms me, +Why was I cursed with such a wicked son? + + + +SCENE IV +PHAEDRA, THESEUS + + +PHAEDRA +My lord, I come to you, fill'd with just dread. +Your voice raised high in anger reach'd mine ears, +And much I fear that deeds have follow'd threats. +Oh, if there yet is time, spare your own offspring. +Respect your race and blood, I do beseech you. +Let me not hear that blood cry from the ground; +Save me the horror and perpetual pain +Of having caused his father's hand to shed it. + +THESEUS +No, Madam, from that stain my hand is free. +But, for all that, the wretch has not escaped me. +The hand of an Immortal now is charged +With his destruction. 'Tis a debt that Neptune +Owes me, and you shall be avenged. + +PHAEDRA +A debt +Owed you? Pray'rs made in anger-- + +THESEUS +Never fear +That they will fail. Rather join yours to mine +In all their blackness paint for me his crimes, +And fan my tardy passion to white heat. +But yet you know not all his infamy; +His rage against you overflows in slanders; +Your mouth, he says, is full of all deceit, +He says Aricia has his heart and soul, +That her alone he loves. + +PHAEDRA +Aricia? + +THESEUS +Aye, +He said it to my face! an idle pretext! +A trick that gulls me not! Let us hope Neptune +Will do him speedy justice. To his altars +I go, to urge performance of his oaths. + + + +SCENE V + + +PHAEDRA (alone) +Ah, he is gone! What tidings struck mine ears? +What fire, half smother'd, in my heart revives? +What fatal stroke falls like a thunderbolt? +Stung by remorse that would not let me rest, +I tore myself out of Oenone's arms, +And flew to help Hippolytus with all +My soul and strength. Who knows if that repentance +Might not have moved me to accuse myself? +And, if my voice had not been choked with shame, +Perhaps I had confess'd the frightful truth. +Hippolytus can feel, but not for me! +Aricia has his heart, his plighted troth. +Ye gods, when, deaf to all my sighs and tears, +He arm'd his eye with scorn, his brow with threats, +I deem'd his heart, impregnable to love, +Was fortified 'gainst all my sex alike. +And yet another has prevail'd to tame +His pride, another has secured his favour. +Perhaps he has a heart easily melted; +I am the only one he cannot bear! +And shall I charge myself with his defence? + + + +SCENE VI +PHAEDRA, OENONE + + +PHAEDRA +Know you, dear Nurse, what I have learn'd just now? + +OENONE +No; but I come in truth with trembling limbs. +I dreaded with what purpose you went forth, +The fear of fatal madness made me pale. + +PHAEDRA +Who would have thought it, Nurse? I had a rival. + +OENONE +A rival? + +PHAEDRA +Yes, he loves. I cannot doubt it. +This wild untamable Hippolytus, +Who scorn'd to be admired, whom lovers' sighs +Wearied, this tiger, whom I fear'd to rouse, +Fawns on a hand that has subdued his pride: +Aricia has found entrance to his heart. + +OENONE +Aricia? + +PHAEDRA +Ah! anguish as yet untried! +For what new tortures am I still reserved? +All I have undergone, transports of passion, +Longings and fears, the horrors of remorse, +The shame of being spurn'd with contumely, +Were feeble foretastes of my present torments. +They love each other! By what secret charm +Have they deceived me? Where, and when, and how +Met they? You knew it all. Why was I cozen'd? +You never told me of those stolen hours +Of amorous converse. Have they oft been seen +Talking together? Did they seek the shades +Of thickest woods? Alas! full freedom had they +To see each other. Heav'n approved their sighs; +They loved without the consciousness of guilt; +And every morning's sun for them shone clear, +While I, an outcast from the face of Nature, +Shunn'd the bright day, and sought to hide myself. +Death was the only god whose aid I dared +To ask: I waited for the grave's release. +Water'd with tears, nourish'd with gall, my woe +Was all too closely watch'd; I did not dare +To weep without restraint. In mortal dread +Tasting this dangerous solace, I disguised +My terror 'neath a tranquil countenance, +And oft had I to check my tears, and smile. + +OENONE +What fruit will they enjoy of their vain love? +They will not see each other more. + +PHAEDRA +That love +Will last for ever. Even while I speak, +Ah, fatal thought, they laugh to scorn the madness +Of my distracted heart. In spite of exile +That soon must part them, with a thousand oaths +They seal yet closer union. Can I suffer +A happiness, Oenone, which insults me? +I crave your pity. She must be destroy'd. +My husband's wrath against a hateful stock +Shall be revived, nor must the punishment +Be light: the sister's guilt passes the brothers'. +I will entreat him in my jealous rage. +What am I saying? Have I lost my senses? +Is Phaedra jealous, and will she implore +Theseus for help? My husband lives, and yet +I burn. For whom? Whose heart is this I claim +As mine? At every word I say, my hair +Stands up with horror. Guilt henceforth has pass'd +All bounds. Hypocrisy and incest breathe +At once thro' all. My murderous hands are ready +To spill the blood of guileless innocence. +Do I yet live, wretch that I am, and dare +To face this holy Sun from whom I spring? +My father's sire was king of all the gods; +My ancestors fill all the universe. +Where can I hide? In the dark realms of Pluto? +But there my father holds the fatal urn; +His hand awards th' irrevocable doom: +Minos is judge of all the ghosts in hell. +Ah! how his awful shade will start and shudder +When he shall see his daughter brought before him, +Forced to confess sins of such varied dye, +Crimes it may be unknown to hell itself! +What wilt thou say, my father, at a sight +So dire? I think I see thee drop the urn, +And, seeking some unheard-of punishment, +Thyself become my executioner. +Spare me! A cruel goddess has destroy'd +Thy race; and in my madness recognize +Her wrath. Alas! My aching heart has reap'd +No fruit of pleasure from the frightful crime +The shame of which pursues me to the grave, +And ends in torment life-long misery. + +OENONE +Ah, Madam, pray dismiss a groundless dread: +Look less severely on a venial error. +You love. We cannot conquer destiny. +You were drawn on as by a fatal charm. +Is that a marvel without precedent +Among us? Has love triumph'd over you, +And o'er none else? Weakness is natural +To man. A mortal, to a mortal's lot +Submit. You chafe against a yoke that others +Have long since borne. The dwellers in Olympus, +The gods themselves, who terrify with threats +The sins of men, have burn'd with lawless fires. + +PHAEDRA +What words are these I hear? What counsel this +You dare to give me? Will you to the end +Pour poison in mine ears? You have destroy'd me. +You brought me back when I should else have quitted +The light of day, made me forget my duty +And see Hippolytus, till then avoided. +What hast thou done? Why did your wicked mouth +With blackest lies slander his blameless life? +Perhaps you've slain him, and the impious pray'r +Of an unfeeling father has been answer'd. +No, not another word! Go, hateful monster; +Away, and leave me to my piteous fate. +May Heav'n with justice pay you your deserts! +And may your punishment for ever be +A terror to all those who would, like you, +Nourish with artful wiles the weaknesses +Of princes, push them to the brink of ruin +To which their heart inclines, and smooth the path +Of guilt. Such flatterers doth the wrath of Heav'n +Bestow on kings as its most fatal gift. + +OENONE (alone) +O gods! to serve her what have I not done? +This is the due reward that I have won. + + + +ACT V + +SCENE I +HIPPOLYTUS, ARICIA + + +ARICIA +Can you keep silent in this mortal peril? +Your father loves you. Will you leave him thus +Deceived? If in your cruel heart you scorn +My tears, content to see me nevermore, +Go, part from poor Aricia; but at least, +Going, secure the safety of your life. +Defend your honor from a shameful stain, +And force your father to recall his pray'rs. +There yet is time. Why out of mere caprice +Leave the field free to Phaedra's calumnies? +Let Theseus know the truth. + +HIPPOLYTUS +Could I say more, +Without exposing him to dire disgrace? +How should I venture, by revealing all, +To make a father's brow grow red with shame? +The odious mystery to you alone +Is known. My heart has been outpour'd to none +Save you and Heav'n. I could not hide from you +(Judge if I love you), all I fain would hide +E'en from myself. But think under what seal +I spoke. Forget my words, if that may be; +And never let so pure a mouth disclose +This dreadful secret. Let us trust to Heav'n +My vindication, for the gods are just; +For their own honour will they clear the guiltless; +Sooner or later punish'd for her crime, +Phaedra will not escape the shame she merits. +I ask no other favour than your silence; +In all besides I give my wrath free scope. +Make your escape from this captivity, +Be bold to bear me company in flight; +Linger not here on this accursed soil, +Where virtue breathes a pestilential air. +To cover your departure take advantage +Of this confusion, caused by my disgrace. +The means of flight are ready, be assured; +You have as yet no other guards than mine. +Pow'rful defenders will maintain our quarrel; +Argos spreads open arms, and Sparta calls us. +Let us appeal for justice to our friends, +Nor suffer Phaedra, in a common ruin +Joining us both, to hunt us from the throne, +And aggrandise her son by robbing us. +Embrace this happy opportunity: +What fear restrains? You seem to hesitate. +Your interest alone prompts me to urge +Boldness. When I am all on fire, how comes it +That you are ice? Fear you to follow then +A banish'd man? + +ARICIA +Ah, dear to me would be +Such exile! With what joy, my fate to yours +United, could I live, by all the world +Forgotten! but not yet has that sweet tie +Bound us together. How then can I steal +Away with you? I know the strictest honour +Forbids me not out of your father's hands +To free myself; this is no parent's home, +And flight is lawful when one flies from tyrants. +But you, Sir, love me; and my virtue shrinks-- + +HIPPOLYTUS +No, no, your reputation is to me +As dear as to yourself. A nobler purpose +Brings me to you. Fly from your foes, and follow +A husband. Heav'n, that sends us these misfortunes, +Sets free from human instruments the pledge +Between us. Torches do not always light +The face of Hymen. +At the gates of Troezen, +'Mid ancient tombs where princes of my race +Lie buried, stands a temple, ne'er approach'd +By perjurers, where mortals dare not make +False oaths, for instant punishment befalls +The guilty. Falsehood knows no stronger check +Than what is present there--the fear of death +That cannot be avoided. Thither then +We'll go, if you consent, and swear to love +For ever, take the guardian god to witness +Our solemn vows, and his paternal care +Entreat. I will invoke the name of all +The holiest Pow'rs; chaste Dian, and the Queen +Of Heav'n, yea all the gods who know my heart +Will guarantee my sacred promises. + +ARICIA +The King draws near. Depart,--make no delay. +To mask my flight, I linger yet one moment. +Go you; and leave with me some trusty guide, +To lead my timid footsteps to your side. + + + +SCENE II +THESEUS, ARICIA, ISMENE + + +THESEUS +Ye gods, throw light upon my troubled mind, +Show me the truth which I am seeking here. + +ARICIA (aside to ISMENE) +Get ready, dear Ismene, for our flight. + + + +SCENE III +THESEUS, ARICIA + + +THESEUS +Your colour comes and goes, you seem confused, +Madame! What business had my son with you? + +ARICIA +Sire, he was bidding me farewell for ever. + +THESEUS +Your eyes, it seems, can tame that stubborn pride; +And the first sighs he breathes are paid to you. + +ARICIA +I can't deny the truth; he has not, Sire, +Inherited your hatred and injustice; +He did not treat me like a criminal. + +THESEUS +That is to say, he swore eternal love. +Do not rely on that inconstant heart; +To others has he sworn as much before. + +ARICIA +He, Sire? + +THESEUS +You ought to check his roving taste. +How could you bear a partnership so vile? + +ARICIA +And how can you endure that vilest slanders +Should make a life so pure as black as pitch? +Have you so little knowledge of his heart? +Do you so ill distinguish between guilt +And innocence? What mist before your eyes +Blinds them to virtue so conspicuous? +Ah! 'tis too much to let false tongues defame him. +Repent; call back your murderous wishes, Sire; +Fear, fear lest Heav'n in its severity +Hate you enough to hear and grant your pray'rs. +Oft in their wrath the gods accept our victims, +And oftentimes chastise us with their gifts. + +THESEUS +No, vainly would you cover up his guilt. +Your love is blind to his depravity. +But I have witness irreproachable: +Tears have I seen, true tears, that may be trusted. + +ARICIA +Take heed, my lord. Your hands invincible +Have rid the world of monsters numberless; +But all are not destroy'd, one you have left +Alive--Your son forbids me to say more. +Knowing with what respect he still regards you, +I should too much distress him if I dared +Complete my sentence. I will imitate +His reverence, and, to keep silence, leave you. + + + +SCENE IV + + +THESEUS (alone) +What is there in her mind? What meaning lurks +In speech begun but to be broken short? +Would both deceive me with a vain pretence? +Have they conspired to put me to the torture? +And yet, despite my stern severity, +What plaintive voice cries deep within my heart? +A secret pity troubles and alarms me. +Oenone shall be questioned once again, +I must have clearer light upon this crime. +Guards, bid Oenone come, and come alone. + + + +SCENE V +THESEUS, PANOPE + + +PANOPE +I know not what the Queen intends to do, +But from her agitation dread the worst. +Fatal despair is painted on her features; +Death's pallor is already in her face. +Oenone, shamed and driven from her sight, +Has cast herself into the ocean depths. +None knows what prompted her to deed so rash; +And now the waves hide her from us for ever. + +THESEUS +What say you? + +PANOPE +Her sad fate seems to have added +Fresh trouble to the Queen's tempestuous soul. +Sometimes, to soothe her secret pain, she clasps +Her children close, and bathes them with her tears; +Then suddenly, the mother's love forgotten, +She thrusts them from her with a look of horror, +She wanders to and fro with doubtful steps; +Her vacant eye no longer knows us. Thrice +She wrote, and thrice did she, changing her mind, +Destroy the letter ere 'twas well begun. +Vouchsafe to see her, Sire: vouchsafe to help her. + +THESEUS +Heav'ns! Is Oenone dead, and Phaedra bent +On dying too? Oh, call me back my son! +Let him defend himself, and I am ready +To hear him. Be not hasty to bestow +Thy fatal bounty, Neptune; let my pray'rs +Rather remain ever unheard. Too soon +I lifted cruel hands, believing lips +That may have lied! Ah! What despair may follow! + + + +SCENE VI +THESEUS, THERAMENES + + +THESEUS +Theramenes, is't thou? Where is my son? +I gave him to thy charge from tenderest childhood. +But whence these tears that overflow thine eyes? +How is it with my son? + +THERAMENES +Concern too late! +Affection vain! Hippolytus is dead. + +THESEUS +Gods! + +THERAMENES +I have seen the flow'r of all mankind +Cut off, and I am bold to say that none +Deserved it less. + +THESEUS +What! My son dead! When I +Was stretching out my arms to him, has Heav'n +Hasten'd his end? What was this sudden stroke? + +THERAMENES +Scarce had we pass'd out of the gates of Troezen, +He silent in his chariot, and his guards +Downcast and silent too, around him ranged; +To the Mycenian road he turn'd his steeds, +Then, lost in thought, allow'd the reins to lie +Loose on their backs. His noble chargers, erst +So full of ardour to obey his voice, +With head depress'd and melancholy eye +Seem'd now to mark his sadness and to share it. +A frightful cry, that issues from the deep, +With sudden discord rends the troubled air; +And from the bosom of the earth a groan +Is heard in answer to that voice of terror. +Our blood is frozen at our very hearts; +With bristling manes the list'ning steeds stand still. +Meanwhile upon the watery plain there rises +A mountain billow with a mighty crest +Of foam, that shoreward rolls, and, as it breaks +Before our eyes vomits a furious monster. +With formidable horns its brow is arm'd, +And all its body clothed with yellow scales, +In front a savage bull, behind a dragon +Turning and twisting in impatient rage. +Its long continued bellowings make the shore +Tremble; the sky seems horror-struck to see it; +The earth with terror quakes; its poisonous breath +Infects the air. The wave that brought it ebbs +In fear. All fly, forgetful of the courage +That cannot aid, and in a neighbouring temple +Take refuge--all save bold Hippolytus. +A hero's worthy son, he stays his steeds, +Seizes his darts, and, rushing forward, hurls +A missile with sure aim that wounds the monster +Deep in the flank. With rage and pain it springs +E'en to the horses' feet, and, roaring, falls, +Writhes in the dust, and shows a fiery throat +That covers them with flames, and blood, and smoke. +Fear lends them wings; deaf to his voice for once, +And heedless of the curb, they onward fly. +Their master wastes his strength in efforts vain; +With foam and blood each courser's bit is red. +Some say a god, amid this wild disorder, +Was seen with goads pricking their dusty flanks. +O'er jagged rocks they rush urged on by terror; +Crash! goes the axle-tree. Th' intrepid youth +Sees his car broken up, flying to pieces; +He falls himself entangled in the reins. +Pardon my grief. That cruel spectacle +Will be for me a source of endless tears. +I saw thy hapless son, I saw him, Sire, +Drag'd by the horses that his hands had fed, +Pow'rless to check their fierce career, his voice +But adding to their fright, his body soon +One mass of wounds. Our cries of anguish fill +The plain. At last they slacken their swift pace, +Then stop, not far from those old tombs that mark +Where lie the ashes of his royal sires. +Panting I thither run, and after me +His guard, along the track stain'd with fresh blood +That reddens all the rocks; caught in the briers +Locks of his hair hang dripping, gory spoils! +I come, I call him. Stretching forth his hand, +He opens his dying eyes, soon closed again. +"The gods have robb'd me of a guiltless life," +I hear him say: "Take care of sad Aricia +When I am dead. Dear friend, if e'er my father +Mourn, undeceived, his son's unhappy fate +Falsely accused; to give my spirit peace, +Tell him to treat his captive tenderly, +And to restore--" With that the hero's breath +Fails, and a mangled corpse lies in my arms, +A piteous object, trophy of the wrath +Of Heav'n--so changed, his father would not know him. + +THESEUS +Alas, my son! Dear hope for ever lost! +The ruthless gods have served me but too well. +For what a life of anguish and remorse +Am I reserved! + +THERAMENES +Aricia at that instant, +Flying from you, comes timidly, to take him +For husband, there, in presence of the gods. +Thus drawing nigh, she sees the grass all red +And reeking, sees (sad sight for lover's eye!) +Hippolytus stretch'd there, pale and disfigured. +But, for a time doubtful of her misfortune, +Unrecognized the hero she adores, +She looks, and asks--"Where is Hippolytus?" +Only too sure at last that he lies there +Before her, with sad eyes that silently +Reproach the gods, she shudders, groans, and falls +Swooning and all but lifeless, at his feet. +Ismene, all in tears, kneels down beside her, +And calls her back to life--life that is naught +But sense of pain. And I, to whom this light +Is darkness now, come to discharge the duty +The hero has imposed on me, to tell thee +His last request--a melancholy task. +But hither comes his mortal enemy. + + + +SCENE VII +THESEUS, PHAEDRA, THERAMENES, PANOPE, GUARDS + + +THESEUS +Madame, you've triumph'd, and my son is kill'd! +Ah, but what room have I for fear! How justly +Suspicion racks me that in blaming him +I err'd! But he is dead; accept your victim; +Rightly or wrongly slain, let your heart leap +For joy. My eyes shall be for ever blind: +Since you accuse him, I'll believe him guilty. +His death affords me cause enough for tears, +Without a foolish search for further light +Which, pow'rless to restore him to my grief, +Might only serve to make me more unhappy, +Far from this shore and far from you I'll fly, +For here the image of my mangled son +Would haunt my memory and drive me mad. +From the whole world I fain would banish me, +For all the world seems to rise up in judgment +Against me; and my very glory weights +My punishment; for, were my name less known +'Twere easier to hide me. All the favours +The gods have granted me I mourn and hate, +Nor will I importune them with vain pray'rs +Henceforth for ever. Give me what they may, +What they have taken will all else outweigh. + +PHAEDRA +Theseus, I cannot hear you and keep silence: +I must repair the wrong that he has suffer'd-- +Your son was innocent. + +THESEUS +Unhappy father! +And it was on your word that I condemn'd him! +Think you such cruelty can be excused-- + +PHAEDRA +Moments to me are precious; hear me, Theseus. +'Twas I who cast an eye of lawless passion +On chaste and dutiful Hippolytus. +Heav'n in my bosom kindled baleful fire, +And vile Oenone's cunning did the rest. +She fear'd Hippolytus, knowing my madness, +Would make that passion known which he regarded +With horror; so advantage of my weakness +She took, and hasten'd to accuse him first. +For that she has been punish'd, tho' too mildly; +Seeking to shun my wrath she cast herself +Beneath the waves. The sword ere now had cut +My thread of life, but slander'd innocence +Made its cry heard, and I resolved to die +In a more lingering way, confessing first +My penitence to you. A poison, brought +To Athens by Medea, runs thro' my veins. +Already in my heart the venom works, +Infusing there a strange and fatal chill; +Already as thro' thickening mists I see +The spouse to whom my presence is an outrage; +Death, from mine eyes veiling the light of heav'n, +Restores its purity that they defiled. + +PANOPE +She dies my lord! + +THESEUS +Would that the memory +Of her disgraceful deed could perish with her! +Ah, disabused too late! Come, let us go, +And with the blood of mine unhappy son +Mingle our tears, clasping his dear remains, +In deep repentance for a pray'r detested. +Let him be honour'd as he well deserves; +And, to appease his sore offended ghost, +Be her near kinsmen's guilt whate'er it may, +Aricia shall be held my daughter from to-day. + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Phaedra, by Jean Baptiste Racine + diff --git a/old/phrdr10.zip b/old/phrdr10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7d9f31e --- /dev/null +++ b/old/phrdr10.zip |