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Home  »  Hippolytus  »  Lines 800–1199

Euripides (480 or 485–406 B.C.). Hippolytus.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.

Lines 800–1199

Was it well she came from a joyous homeTo a far King’s bridal across the foam?What joy hath her bridal brought her?Sure some spell upon either handFlew with thee from the Cretan strand,Seeking Athena’s tower divine;And there, where Munychus fronts the brine,Crept by the shore-flung cables’ line,The curse from the Cretan water!And, for that dark spell that about her clings,Sick desires of forbidden thingsThe soul of her rend and sever;The bitter tide of calamityHath risen above her lips; and she,Where bends she her last endeavour?She will hie her alone to her bridal room,And a rope swing slow in the rafters’ gloom;And a fair white neck shall creep to the noose,A-shudder with dread, yet firm to chooseThe one strait way for fame, and loseThe Love and the pain for ever.[The Voice of the NURSE is heard from within, crying, at first inarticulately, then clearly.
VOICE


Help ho! The Queen! Help, whoso hearkeneth!Help! Theseus’ spouse caught in a noose of death!
A WOMAN


God, is it so soon finished? That bright headSwinging beneath the rafters! Phædra dead!
VOICE


O haste! This knot about her throat is madeSo fast! Will no one bring me a swift blade?
A WOMAN


Say, friends, what think ye? Should we haste within,And from her own hand’s knotting loose the Queen?
ANOTHER


Nay, are there not men there? ’Tis an ill roadIn life, to finger at another’s load.
VOICE


Let it lie straight! Alas! the cold white thingThat guards his empty caste for the King!
A WOMAN


Ah! “Let it lie straight!” Heard ye what she said?No need for helpers now; the Queen is dead![The Women, intent upon the voices from the Castle, have not noticed the approach of THESEUS. He enters from the left; his dress and the garland on his head show that he has returned from some oracle or special abode of a God. He stands for a moment perplexed.
THESEUS


Ho, Women, and what means this loud acclaimWithin the house? The vassals’ outcry cameTo smite mine ears far off. It were more meetTo fling out wide the Castle gates, and greetWith a joy held from God’s Presence![The confusion and horror of the Women’s faces gradually affects him. A dirge-cry comes from the Castle.How?Not Pittheus? Hath Time struck that hoary brow?Old is he, old, I know. But sore it were,Returning thus, to find his empty chair![The Women hesitate; then the Leader comes forward.
LEADER


O Theseus, not on any old man’s headThis stroke falls. Young and tender is the dead.
THESEUS


Ye Gods! One of my children torn from me?
LEADER


Thy motherless children live, most grievously
THESEUS


How sayst thou? What? My wife?…Say how she died.
LEADER


In a high death-knot that her own hands tied.
THESEUS


A fit of the old cold auguish—Tell me all—That held her? Or did some fresh thing befall?
LEADER


We know no more. But now arrived we be,Theseus, to mourn for thy calamity.[THESEUS stays for a moment silent, and puts his hand on his brow. He notices the wreath.
THESEUS


What? And all garlanded I come to herWith flowers, most evil-starred God’s-messenger!Ho, varlets, loose the porral bars; undoThe bolts; and let me see the bitter viewOf her whose death bath brought me to mine own.[The great central door of the Castle is thrown open wide, and the body of PHAEDRA is seen lying on a bier, surrounded by a group of Handmaids, wailing.
THE HANDMAIDS


Ah me, what thou hast suffered and hast done:A deed to wrap this roof in flame!Why was thine hand so strong, thine heart so bold?Wherefore, O dead in anger, dead in shame,The long, long wrestling ere thy breath was cold?O ill-starred Wife,What brought this blackness over all thy life?[A throng of Men and Women has gradually collected.
THESEUS


Ah me, this is the last—Hear, O my countrymen!—and bitterestOf Theseus’ labours! Fortune all unblest,How hath thine heavy heel across me passed!Is it the stain of sins done long ago,Some fell God still remembereth,That must so dim and fret my life with death?I cannot win to shore; and the waves flowAbove mine eyes, to be surmounted not.Ah wife, sweet wife, what nameCan fit thine heavy lot?Gone like a wild bird, like a blowing flame,In one swift gust, where all things are forgot!Alas! this misery!Sure ’tis some stroke of God’s great anger rolledFrom age to age on me,For some dire sin wrought by dim kings of old.
LEADER


Sire, this great grief bath come to many an one,A true wife lost. Thou art not all alone.
THESEUS


Deep, deep beneath the Earth,Dark may my dwelling be,And night my heart’s one comrade, in the dearth,O Love, of thy most sweet society.This is my death, O Phædra, more than thine.[He turns suddenly on the Attendants.Speak who speak can! What was it? What malignSwift stroke, O heart discounselled, leapt on thee?[He bends over PHAEDRA; then, as no one speaks, looks fiercely up.What, will ye speak? Or are they dumb as death,This herd of thralls, my high house harboureth?[There is no answer. He bends again over PHAEDRA.Ah me, why shouldst thou die?A wide and royal grief I here behold,Not to be borne in peace, not to be told.As a lost man am I.My children motherless and my house undone,Since thou art vanished quite,Purest of hearts that e’er the wandering SunTouched, or the star-eyed splendour of the Night.[He throws himself beside the body.
CHORUS


Unhappy one, O most unhappy one;With what strange evil is this Castle vexed!Mine eyes are molten with the tears that runFor thee and thine; but what thing follows next?I tremble when I think thereon![They have noticed that there is a tablet with writing fastened to the dead woman’s wrist. THESEUS also sees it.
THESEUS


Ha, what is this that hangs from her dear hand?A tablet! It would make me understandSome dying wish, some charge about her bedAnd children. ’Twas the last prayer, ere her headWas bowed for ever.[Taking the tablet.Fear not, my lost bride,No woman born shall lie at Theseus’ side,Nor rule in Theseus’ house!A seal! Ah, seeHow her gold signet here looks up at me,Trustfully. Let me tear this thread away,And read what tale the tablet seeks to say.[He proceeds to undo and read the tablet. The Chorus breaks into horrified groups.
SOME WOMEN


Woe, woe! God brings to birthA new grief here, close on the other’s tread!My life bath lost its worth.May all go now with what is finishèd!The castle of my King is overthrown,A house no more, a house vanished and gone!
OTHER WOMEN


O God, if it may be in any way,Let not this house he wrecked! Help us who pray!I know not what is here: some unseen thingThat shows the Bird of Evil on the wing.[THESEUS has read the tablet and breaks out in uncontrollable emotion.
THESEUS


Oh, horror piled on horror!—Here is writ…Nay, who could hear it, who could speak of it?
LEADER


What, O my King? If I may hear it, speak!
THESEUS


Doth not the tablet cry aloud, yea, shriek,Things not to he forgotten?—Oh, to flyAnd hide mine head! No more a man am I.God what ghastly music echoes here!
LEADER


How wild thy voice! Some terrible thing is near.
THESEUS


No; my lips’ gates will hold it back no more:This deadly word,That struggles on the brink and will not o’er,Yet will not stay unheard.[He raises his hand, to make proclamation to all present.Ho, hearken all this land![The people gather expectantly about him.Hippolytus by violence bath laid handOn this my wife, forgetting God’s great eye.[Murmurs of amazement and horror; THESEUS, apparently calm, raises both arms to heaven.Therefore, O Thou my Father, hear my cry,Poseidon! Thou didst grant me for mine ownThree prayers; for one of these, slay now my son,Hippolytus; let him not outlive this day,If true thy promise was! Lo, thus I pray.
LEADER


Oh, call that wild prayer back! O King, take heed!I know that thou wilt live to rue this deed.
THESEUS


It may not be.—And more, I cast him outFrom all my realms. He shall be held aboutBy two great dooms. Or by Poseidon’s breathHe shall fall swiftly to the house of Death;Or wandering, outcast, o’er strange land and sea,Shall live and drain the cup of misery.
LEADER


Ah, see! here comes he at the point of need.Shake off that evil mood, O King; have heedFor all thine house and folk.—Great Theseus, hear![THESEUS stands silent in fierce gloom. HIPPOLYTUS comes in from the right.
HIPPOLYTUS


Father, I heard thy cry, and sped in fearTo help thee.—But I see not yet the causeThat racked thee so.—Say, Father, what it was.[The murmurs in the crowd, the silent gloom of his Father, and the horror of the Chorus-women gradually work on HIPPOLYTUS and bewilder him. He catches sight of the bier.Ah, what is that! Nay, Father, not the QueenDead![Murmurs in the crowd.’Tis most strange. ’Tis passing strange, I ween.’Twas here I left her. Scarce an hour hath runSince here she stood and looked on this same sun.What is it with her? Wherefore did she die?[THESEUS remains silent. The murmurs increase.Father, to thee I speak. Oh, tell me, why,Why art thou silent? What doth silence knowOf skill to stem the bitter flood of woe?And human hearts in sorrow crave the more,For knowledge, though the knowledge grieve them soreIt is not love, to veil thy sorrows inFrom one most near to thee, and more than kin.
THESEUS (to himself)


Fond race of men, so striving and so blind,Ten thousand arts and wisdoms can ye find,Desiring all and all imagining:But ne’er have reached nor understood one thing,To make a true heart there where no heart is!
HIPPOLYTUS


That were indeed beyond man’s mysteries,To make a false heart true against his will.But why this subtle talk? It likes me ill,Father; thy speech runs wild beneath this blow.
THESEUS (as before)


O would that God had given us here belowSome test of love, some sifting of the soul,To tell the false and true! Or through the wholeOf men two voices ran, one true and right,The other as chance willed it; that we mightConvict the liar by the true man’s tone,And not live duped forever, every one!HIPPOLYTUS (misunderstanding him; then guessing at something of the truth)What? Hath some friend proved false?Or in thine earWhispered some slander? Stand I tainted here,Though utterly innocent?[Murmurs from the crowd.Yea, dazed am I;’Tis thy words daze me, falling all awry,Away from reason, by fell fancies vexed!
THESEUS


O heart of man, what height wilt venture next?What end comes. to thy daring and thy crime?For if with each man’s life ’twill higher climb,And every age break out in blood and liesBeyond its fathers, must not God deviseSome new world far from ours, to hold thereinSuch brood of all unfaithfulness and sin?Look, all, upon this man, my son, his lifeSprung forth from mine! He hath defiled my wife;And standeth here convicted by the dead,A most black villain![HIPPOLYTUS falls back with a cry and covers his face with his robe.Nay, hide not thine head!Pollution, is it? Thee it will not stain.Look up, and face thy Father’s eyes again!Thou friend of Gods, of all mankind elect;Thou the pure heart, by thoughts of ill unflecked!I care not for thy boasts. I am not mad,To deem that Gods love best the base and bad,Now is thy day! Now vaunt thee; thou so pure,No flesh of life may pass thy lips! Now lureFools after thee; call Orpheus King and Lord;Make ecstasies and wonders Thumb thine hoardOf ancient scrolls and ghostly mysteries—Now thou art caught and known!Shun men like these,I charge ye all! With solemn words they chaseTheir prey, and in their hearts plot foul disgrace.My wife is dead.—“Ha, so that saves thee now,”That is what grips thee worst, thou caitiff, thou!What oaths, what subtle words, shall stronger beThan this dead hand, to clear the guilt from thee?“She hated thee,” thou sayest; “the bastard bornIs ever sore and bitter as a thornTo the true brood.”—A sorry bargainerIn the ills and goods of life thou makest her,If all her best-beloved she cast awayTo wreck blind hate on thee!—What, wilt thou say,“Through every woman’s nature one blind strandOf passion winds, that men scarce understand?”—Are we so different? Know I not the fireAnd perilous flood of a young man’s desire,Desperate as any woman, and as blind,When Cypris stings? Save that the man behindHas all men’s strength to aid him. Nay, ’twas thou…But what avail to wrangle with thee now,When the dead speaks for all to understand,A perfect witness!Hie thee from this landTo exile with all speed. Come never moreTo god-built Athens, not to the utmost shoreOf any realm where Theseus’ arm is strong!What? Shall I bow my head beneath this wrong,And cower to thee? Not Isthmian Sinis soWill bear men witness that I laid him low,Nor Skiron’s rocks, that share the salt sea’s prey,Grant that my hand bath weight vile things to slay!
LEADER


Alas! whom shall I call of mortal menHappy? The highest are cast down again.
HIPPOLYTUS


Father, the hot strained fury of thy heartIs terrible. Yet, albeit so swift thou artOf speech, if all this matter were laid bare,Speech were not then so swift; nay, nor so fair.…[Murmurs again in the crowd.I have no skill before a crowd to tellMy thoughts. ’Twere best with few, that know me well.—Nay, that is natural; tongues that sound but rudeIn wise men’s ears, speak to the multitudeWith music.None the less, since there is comeThis stroke upon me, I must not be dumb,But speak perforce.… And there will I beginWhere thou beganst, as though to strip my sinNaked, and I not speak a word!Dost seeThis sunlight and this earth? I swear to theeThere dwelleth not in these one man—denyAll that thou wilt!—more pure of sin than I.Two things I know on earth: God’s worship first;Next to win friends about me, few, that thirstTo hold them clean of all unrighteousness.Our rule doth curse the tempters, and no lessWho yieldeth to the tempters.—How, thou say’st,“Dupes that I jest at?” Nay; I make a jestOf no man. I am honest to the end,Near or far off, with him I call my friend.And most in that one thing, where now thy meshWould grip me, stainless quite! No woman’s fleshHath e’er this body touched. Of all such deedNaught wot I, save what things a man may readIn pictures or hear spoke; nor am I fain,Being virgin-souled, to read or hear again.My life of innocence moves thee not; so be it.Show then what hath seduced me; let me see it.Was that poor flesh so passing fair, beyondAll woman’s loveliness?Was I some fondFalse plotter, that I schemed to win through herThy castle’s heirdom? Fond indeed I were!Nay, a stark madman! “But a crown,” thou sayest,“Usurped, is sweet.” Nay, rather most unblestTo all wise-hearted; sweet to fools and themWhose eyes are blinded by the diadem.In contests of all valour fain would ILead Hellas; but in rank and majestyNot lead, but be at ease, with good men nearTo love me, free to work and not to fear.That brings more joy than any crown or throne.[He sees from the demeanor of THESEUS and of the crowd that his words are not winning them, but rather making them bitterer than before. It comes to his lips to speak the whole truth.I have said my say; save one thing. one alone.O had I here some witness in my need,As I was witness! Could she hear me plead,Face me and face the sunlight; well I know,Our deeds would search us out for thee, and showWho lies!But now, I swear—so hear me both,The Earth beneath and Zeus who Guards the Oath—I never touched this woman that was thine!No words could win me to it, nor inclineMy heart to dream it. May God strike me down,Nameless and fameless, without home or town,An outcast and a wanderer of the world;May my dead bones rest never, but be hurledFrom sea to land, from land to angry sea,If evil is my heart and false to thee![He waits a moment; but sees that his Father is unmoved. The truth again comes to his lips.If ’twas some fear that made her cast awayHer life … I know not. More I must not say.Right hath she done when in her was no right;And Right I follow to mine own despite!
LEADER


It is enough! God’s name is witness large,And thy great oath, to assoil thee of this charge.
THESEUS


Is not the man a juggler and a mage,Cool wits and one right oath—what more?—to assuageSin and the wrath of injured fatherhood!
HIPPOLYTUS


Am I so cool? Nay, Father, ’tis thy moodThat makes me marvel! By my faith, wert thouThe son, and I the sire; and deemed I nowIn very truth thou hadst my wife assailed,I had not exiled thee, nor stood and railed,But lifted once mine arm, and struck thee dead!
THESEUS


Thou gentle judge! Thou shalt not so be spedTo simple death, nor by thine own decree.Swift death is bliss to men in misery.Far off, friendless forever, thou shalt drainAmid strange cities the last dregs of pain!
HIPPOLYTUS


Wilt verily cast me now beyond thy pale,Not wait for Time, the lifter of the veil?
THESEUS


Aye, if I could past Pontus, and the redAtlantic marge! So do I hate thine head.
HIPPOLYTUS


Wilt weigh nor oath nor faith nor prophet’s wordTo prove me? Drive me from thy sight unheard?
THESEUS


This tablet here, that needs no prophet’s lotTo speak from, tells me all. I ponder notThy fowls that fly above us! Let them fly.
HIPPOLYTUS


O ye great Gods, wherefore unlock not IMy lips, ere yet ye have slain me utterly,Ye whom I love most? No. It may not be!The one heart that I need I ne’er should gainTo trust me. I should break mine oath in vain.
THESEUS


Death! but he chokes me with his saintly tone!—Up, get thee from this land! Begone! Begone!
HIPPOLYTUS


Where shall I turn me? Think. To what friend’s doorBetake me, banished on a charge so sore?
THESEUS


Whoso delights to welcome to his hallVile ravishers … to guard his hearth withal!
HIPPOLYTUS


Thou seekst my heart, my tears? Aye, let it beThus! I am vile to all men, and to thee!
THESEUS


There was a time for tears and thought; the timeEre thou didst up and gird thee to thy crime.
HIPPOLYTUS


Ye stones, will ye not speak? Ye castle walls!Bear witness if I be so vile, so false!
THESEUS


Aye, fly to voiceless witnesses! Yet hereA dumb deed speaks against thee, and speaks clear!
HIPPOLYTUS


Alas!Would I could stand and watch this thing, and seeMy face, and weep for very pity of me!
THESEUS


Full of thyself, as ever! Not a thoughtFor them that gave thee birth; nay, they are naught!
HIPPOLYTUS


O my wronged Mother! O my birth of shame!May none I love e’er bear a bastard’s name!
THESEUS (in a sudden blaze of rage)


Up, thralls, and drag him from my presence! What,’Tis but a foreign felon! Heard ye not?[The thralls still hesitate in spite of his fury.
HIPPOLYTUS


They touch me at their peril! Thine own handLift, if thou canst, to drive me from the land.
THESEUS


That will I straight, unless my will be done![HIPPOLYTUS comes close to him and kneels.Nay! Not for thee my pity! Get thee gone![HIPPOLYTUS rises, makes a sign of submission, and slowly moves away. THESEUS, as soon as he sees him going, turns rapidly and enters the Castle. The door is closed again. HIPPOLYTUS has stopped for a moment before the Statue of ARTEMIS, and, as THESEUS departs, breaks out in prayer.
HIPPOLYTUS


So; it is done! O dark and miserable!I see it all, but see not how to tellThe tale.—O thou belovèd, Leto’s Maid,Chase-comrade, fellow-rester in the glade,Lo, I am driven with a caitiff’s brandForth from great Athens! Fare ye well, O landAnd city of old Erechtheus! Thou, Trozên,What riches of glad youth mine eyes have seenIn thy broad plain! Farewell! This is the end;The last word, the last look!Come, every friendAnd fellow of my youth that still may stay,Give me god-speed and cheer me on my way.Ne’er shall ye see a man more pure of spotThan me, though mine own Father loves me not![HIPPOLYTUS goes away to the right, followed by many Huntsmen and other young men. The rest of the crowd has by this time dispersed, except the Women of the Chorus and some Men of the Chorus of Huntsmen.
CHORUS


Men


Surely the thought of the Gods hath balm in it alway, to win me