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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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