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Home  »  Hippolytus  »  Lines 1–399


Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD   Dramatis Personæ

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

Lines 1–399

APHRODITE


GREAT among men, and not unnamed am I,The Cyprian, in God’s inmost halls on high.And wheresoe’er from Pontus to the farRed West men dwell, and see the glad day-star,And worship Me, the pious heart I bless,And wreck that life that lives in stubbornness.For that there is, even in a great God’s mind,That hungereth for the praise of human kind.So runs my word; and soon the very deedShall follow. For this Prince of Theseus’ seed,Hippolytus, child of that dead Amazon,And reared by saintly Pittheus in his ownStrait ways, bath dared, alone of all Trozên,To hold me least of spirits and most mean,And spurns my spell and seeks no woman’s kiss.But great Apollo’s sister, Artemis,He holds of all most high, gives love and praise,And through the wild dark woods for ever strays,He and the Maid together, with swift houndsTo slay all angry beasts from out these bounds,To more than mortal friendship consecrate!I grudge it not. No grudge know I, nor hate;Yet, seeing he bath offended, I this dayShall smite Hippolytus. Long since my wayWas opened, nor needs now much labour more.For once from Pittheus’ castle to the shoreOf Athens came Hippolytus over-seasSeeking the vision of the Mysteries.And Phædra there, his father’s Queen high-born;Saw him, and as she saw, her heart was tornWith great love, by the working of my will.And for his sake, long since, on Pallas’ hill,Deep in the rock, that Love no more might roam,She built a shrine, and named it Love-at-home:And the rock held it, but its face alwaySeeks Trozên o’er the seas. Then came the dayWhen Theseus, for the blood of kinsmen shed,Spake doom of exile on himself, and fled,Phædra beside him, even to this Trozên.And here that grievous and amazèd Queen,Wounded and wondering, with ne’er a word,Wastes slowly; and her secret none bath heardNor dreamed.But never thus this love shall end!To Theseus’ ear some whisper will I send,And all be bare! And that proud Prince, my foe,His sire shall slay with curses. Even soEndeth that boon the great Lord of the MainTo Theseus gave, the Three Prayers not in vain.And she, not in dishonour, yet shall die.I would not rate this woman’s pain so highAs not to pay mine haters in full feeThat vengeance that shall make all well with me.But soft, here comes he, striding from the chase,Our Prince Hippolytus!—I will go my ways.—And hunters at his heels: and a loud throngGlorying Artemis with praise and song!Little he knows that Hell’s gates opened are,And this his last look on the great Day-star![APHRODITE withdraws, unseen by HIPPOLYTUS and a band of huntsmen, who enter from the left, singing. They pass the Statue of APHRODITE without notice.
HIPPOLYTUS


Follow, O follow me,Singing on your waysHer in whose hand are we,Her whose own flock we be,The Zeus-Child the Heavenly;To Artemis be praise!
HUNTSMAN


Hail to thee, Maiden blest,Proudest and holiest:God’s Daughter, great in bliss,Leto-born, Artemis!Hail to thee, Maiden, farFairest of all that are,Yea, and most high thine home,Child of the Father’s hall;Hear, O most virginal,Hear, O most fair of all,In high God’s golden dome.[The huntsmen have gathered about the altar of ARTEMIS. HIPPOLYTUS now advances from them, and approaches the Statue with a wreath in his hand.
HIPPOLYTUS


To thee this wreathèd garland, from a greenAnd virgin meadow bear I, O my Queen,Where never shepherd leads his grazing ewesNor scythe has touched. Only the river dewsGleam, and the spring bee sings, and in the gladeHath Solitude her mystic garden made.No evil hand may cull it: only heWhose heart bath known the heart of Purity,Unlearned of man, and true whate’er befall.Take therefore from pure hands this coronal,O mistress loved, thy golden hair to twine.For, sole of living men, this grace is mine,To dwell with thee, and speak, and hear repliesOf voice divine, though none may see thine eyes.Oh, keep me to the end in this same road![An OLD HUNTSMAN, who has stood apart from the rest, here comes up to HIPPOLYTUS.
HUNTSMAN


My Prince—for “Master” name I none but God—Gave I good counsel, wouldst thou welcome it?
HIPPOLYTUS


Right gladly, friend; else were I poor of wit.
HUNTSMAN


Knowest thou one law, that through the world has won?
HIPPOLYTUS


What wouldst thou? And how runs thy law? Say on.
HUNTSMAN


It hates that Pride that speaks not all men fair!
HIPPOLYTUS


And rightly. Pride breeds hatred everywhere.
HUNTSMAN


And good words love, and grace in all men’s sight?
HIPPOLYTUS


Aye, and much gain withal, for trouble slight.
HUNTSMAN


How deem’st thou of the Gods? Are they the same?
HIPPOLYTUS


Surely: we are but fashioned on their frame.
HUNTSMAN


Why then wilt thou be proud, and worship not…
HIPPOLYTUS


Whom? If the name he speakable, speak out!
HUNTSMAN


She stands here at thy gate the Cyprian Queen!
HIPPOLYTUS


I greet her from afar: my life is clean.
HUNTSMAN


Clean? Nay, proud, proud; a mark for all to scan!
HIPPOLYTUS


Each mind hath its own bent, for God or man.
HUNTSMAN


God grant thee happiness … and wiser thought!
HIPPOLYTUS


These Spirits that reign in darkness like me not.
HUNTSMANWhat the Gods ask, O Son, that man must pay!
HIPPOLYTUS (turning from him to the others).


On, huntsmen, to the Castle! Make your wayStraight to the feast room; ’tis a merry thingAfter the chase, a board of banqueting.And see the steeds be groomed, and in arrayThe chariot dight. I drive them forth to-day.[He pauses, and makes a slight gesture of reverence to the Statue on the left. Then to the OLD HUNTSMAN.That for thy Cyprian, friend, and nought beside![HIPPOLYTUS follows the huntsmen, who stream off by the central door in the Castle. The OLD HUNTSMAN remains.
HUNTSMAN (approaching the Statue and kneeling)


O Cyprian—for a young man in his prideI will not follow!—here before thee, meek,In that one language that a slave may speak,I pray thee; Oh, if some wild heart in frothOf youth surges against thee, be not wrothFor ever! Nay, be far and hear not then:Gods should be gentler and more wise than men![He rises and follows the others into the Castle.
The Orchestra is empty for a moment, then there enter from right and left several Trozenian women, young and old. Their number eventually amounts to fifteen.


CHORUS


There riseth a rock-born river,Of Ocean’s tribe, men say;The crags of it gleam and quiver,And pitchers dip in the spray:A woman was there with raiment whiteTo bathe and spread in the warm sunlight,And she told a tale to me there by the river,The tale of the Queen and her evil day:How, ailing beyond allayment,Within she hath bowed her head,And with shadow of silken raimentThe bright brown hair bespread.For three long days she hath lain forlorn,Her lips untainted of flesh or corn,For that secret sorrow beyond allaymentThat steers to the far sad shore of the dead.
Some Women


Is this some Spirit, O child of man?Doth Hecat hold thee perchance, or Pan?Doth she of the Mountains work her ban,Or the dread Corybantes bind thee?
Others


Nay, is it sin that upon thee lies,Sin of forgotten sacrifice,In thine own Dictynna’s sea-wild eyes?Who in Limna here can find thee;For the Deep’s dry floor is her easy way,And she moves in the salt wet whirl of the spray.
Other Women


Or doth the Lord of Erechtheus’ race,Thy Theseus, watch for a fairer face,For secret arms in a silent place,Far from thy love or chiding?
Others


Or hath there landed, amid the loudHum of Piraeus’ sailor-crowd,Some Cretan venturer, weary-browed,Who bears to the Queen some tiding;Some far home-grief, that bath bowed her low,And chained her soul to a bed of woe?
An Older Woman


Nay—know yet not?—this burden hath alway lainOn the devious being of woman; yea, burdens twain,The burden of Wild Will and the burden of Pain.Through my heart once that wind of terror sped;But I, in fear confessèd,Cried from the dark to Her in heavenly bliss,The Helper of Pain, the Bow-Maid Artemis:Whose feet I praise for ever, where they treadFar off among the blessèd!
THE LEADER


But see, the Queen’s grey nurse at the door,Sad-eyed and sterner, methinks, than of yore,With the Queen. Doth she lead her hither,To the wind and sun?—Ah, fain would I knowWhat strange betiding hath blanched that brow,And made that young life wither.[The NURSE comes out from the central door, followed by PHAEDRA, who is supported by two handmaids. They make ready a couch for PHAEDRA to lie upon.
NURSE


O sick and sore are the days of men!What wouldst thou? What shall I change again?Here is the Sun for thee; here is the sky;And thy weary pillows wind-swept lie,By the castle door.But the cloud of thy brow is dark, I ween;And soon thou wilt back to thy bower within:So swift to change is the path of thy feet,And near things hateful, and far things sweet;So was it before!Oh, pain were better than tending pain!For that were single, and this is twain,With grief of heart and labour of limb.Yet all man’s life is but ailing and dim,And rest upon earth comes never.But if any far-off state there be,Dearer than life to mortality;The hand of the Dark hath hold thereof,And mist is under and mist above.And so we are sick of life, and clingOn earth to this nameless and shining thing.For other life is a fountain sealed,And the deeps below are unrevealed,And we drift on legends for ever![PHAEDRA during this has been laid on her couch; she speaks to the handmaids.
PHAEDRA


Yes; lift me: not my head so low.There, hold my arms.—Fair arms they seem!—My poor limbs scarce obey me now!Take off that hood that weighs my brow,And let my long hair stream.
NURSE


Nay, toss not, Child, so feveredly.The sickness best will win reliefBy quiet rest and constancy.All men have grief.
PHAEDRA (not noticing her)


Oh for a deep and dewy spring,With runlets cold to draw and drink?And a great meadow blossoming,Long-grassed, and poplars in a ring,To rest me by the brink!
NURSE


Nay, Child! Shall strangers hear this toneSo wild, and thoughts so fever-flown?
PHAEDRA


Oh, take me to the Mountain! Oh,Past the great pines and through the wood,Up where the lean hounds softly go,A-whine for wild things’ blood,And madly flies the dappled roe.O God, to shout and speed them there,An arrow by my chestnut hairDrawn tight, and one keen glimmering spear—Ah! if I could!
NURSE


What wouldst thou with them—fancies all!—Thy hunting and thy fountain brink?What wouldst thou? By the city wallCanst hear our own brook plash and fallDownhill, if thou wouldst drink.
PHAEDRA


O Mistress of the Sea-lorn MereWhere horse-hoofs beat the sand and sing,O Artemis, that I were thereTo tame Enetian steeds and steerSwift chariots in the ring!
NURSE


Nay, mountainward but now thy handsYearned out, with craving for the chase;And now toward the unseaswept sandsThou roamest, where the coursers pace!O wild young steed, what prophet knowsThe power that holds thy curb, and throwsThy swift heart from its race?[At these words PHAEDRA gradually recovers herself and pays attention.
PHAEDRA


What have I said? Woe’s me! And whereGone straying from my wholesome mind?What? Did I fall in some god’s snare?—Nurse, veil my head again, and blindMine eyes.—There is a tear behindThat lash.—Oh, I am sick with shame!Aye, but it hath a sting,To come to reason: yet the nameOf madness is an awful thing.—
HIPPOLYTUS


Could I but die in one swift flameUnthinking, unknowing!
NURSE


I veil thy face, Child.—Would that soMine own were veiled for evermore,So sore I love thee!… Though the loreOf long life mocks me, and I knowHow love should be a lightsome thingNot rooted in the deep o’ the heart;With gentle ties, to twine apartIf need so call, or closer cling.—Why do I love thee so? O fool,O fool, the heart that bleeds for twain,And builds, men tell us, wails of pain,To walk by love’s unswerving ruleThe same for ever, stern and true!For “Thorough” is no word of peace:’Tis “Naught-too-much” makes trouble cease.And many a wise man bows thereto.[The LEADER OF THE CHORUS here approaches the NURSE.
LEADER


Nurse of our Queen, thou watcher old and true,We see her great affliction, but no clueHave we to learn the sickness. Wouldst thou tellThe name and sort thereof, ’twould like us well.
NURSE


Small leechcraft have I, and she tells no man.
LEADER


Thou know’st no cause? Nor when the unrest began?
NURSE


It all comes to the same. She will not speak.
LEADER (turning and looking at PHAEDRA).


How she is changed and wasted! And how weak!
NURSE


’Tis the third day she hath fasted utterly.
LEADER


What, is she mad? Or doth she seek to die?
NURSE


I know not. But to death it sure must lead.
LEADER


’Tis strange that Theseus takes hereof no heed.
NURSE


She hides her wound, and vows it is not so.
LEADER


Can he not look into her face and know?
NURSE


Nay, he is on a journey these last days.
LEADER


Canst thou not force her, then? Or think of waysTo trap the secret of the sick heart’s pain?
NURSE


Have I not tried all ways, and all in vain?Yet will I cease not now, and thou shalt tellIf in her grief I serve my mistress well![She goes across to where PHAEDRA lies; and presently, while speaking, kneels by her.Dear daughter mine, all that before was saidLet both of us forget; and thou insteadBe kindlier, and unlock that prisoned brow.And I, who followed then the wrong road, nowWill leave it and be wiser. If thou fearSome secret sickness, there be women hereTo give thee comfort.[PHAEDRA shakes her headNo; not secret? ThenIs it a sickness meet for aid of men?Speak, that a leech may tend thee.Silent still?Nay, Child, what profits silence? If ’tis illThis that I counsel, make me see the wrong:If well, then yield to me.Nay, Child, I longFor one kind word, one look![PHAEDRA lies motionless. The NURSE rises.Oh, woe is me!Women, we labour here all fruitlessly,All as far off as ever from her heart!She ever scorned me, and now hears no partOf all my prayers![Turning to PHAEDRA again.Nay, hear thou shalt, and be,If so thou will, more wild than the wild sea;But know, thou art thy little ones’ betrayer!If thou die now, shall child of thine be heirTo Theseus’ castle? Nay, not thine, I ween,But hers! That barbed Amazonian QueenHath left a child to bend thy children low,A bastard royal-hearted—sayst not so?—Hippolytus…
PHAEDRA


Ah![She starts up, sitting, and throws the veil off.
NURSE


That stings thee?
PHAEDRA


Nurse, most soreThou hast hurt me! In God’s name, speak that name no more.
NURSE


Thou seest? Thy mind is clear; but with thy mindThou wilt not save thy children, nor be kindTo thine own life.
PHAEDRA


My children? Nay, most dearI love them,—Far, far other grief is here.
NURSE (after a pause, wondering).


Thy hand is clean, O Child, from stain of blood?
PHAEDRA


My hand is clean; but is my heart, O God?
NURSE


Some enemy’s spell hath made thy spirit dim?
PHAEDRA


He hates me not that slays me, nor I him.
NURSE


Theseus, the King, hath wronged thee in man’s wise?
PHAEDRA


Ah, could but I stand guiltless in his eyes!
NURSE


O speak! What is this death-fraught mystery?
PHAEDRA


Nay, leave me to my wrong. I wrong not thee.
NURSE (suddenly throwing herself in supplication at PHAEDRA’S feet).Not wrong me, whom thou wouldst all desolate leave!
PHAEDRA (rising and trying to move away).


What wouldst thou? Force me? Slinging to my sleeve?
NURSE


Yea, to thy knees; and weep; and let not go!
PHAEDRA


Woe to thee, Woman, if thou learn it, woe!
NURSE


I know no bitterer woe than losing thee.
PHAEDRA


I am lost! Yet the deed shall honour me.
NURSE


Why hide what honours thee? ’Tis all I claim!
PHAEDRA


Why, so I build up honour out of shame!
NURSE


Then speak, and higher still thy fame shall stand.
PHAEDRA


Go, in God’s name!—Nay, leave me; loose my hand!
NURSE


Never, until thou grant me what I pray.
PHAEDRA (yielding, after a pause).


So be it. I dare not tear that hand away.
NURSE (rising and releasing PHAEDRA).


Tell all thou wilt, Daughter. I speak no more.
PHAEDRA (after a long pause).


Mother, poor Mother, that didst love so sore!
NURSE


What mean’st thou, Child? The Wild Bull of the Tide?
PHAEDRA


And thou, sad sister, Dionysus’ bride!
NURSE


Child! wouldst thou shame the house where thou wast born?
PHAEDRA


And I the third, sinking most all-forlorn!
NURSE (to herself)


I am all lost and feared. What will she say?
PHAEDRA


From there my grief comes, not from yesterday.
NURSE


I come no nearer to thy parable.
PHAEDRA


Oh, would that thou could’st tell what I must tell!
NURSE


I am no seer in things I wot not of.
PHAEDRA (again hesitating)


What is it that they mean, who say men … love?
NURSE


A thing most sweet, my Child, yet dolorous.
PHAEDRA


Only the half, belike, hath fallen on us!
NURSE (starting)


On thee? Love?—Oh, what say’st thou? What man’s son?
PHAEDRA


What man’s? There was a Queen, an Amazon…
NURSE


Hippolytus, say’st thou?
PHAEDRA (again wrapping her face in the veil)


Nay, ’twas thou, not I![PHAEDRA sinks back on the couch and covers her face again. The NURSE starts violently from her and walks up and down.
NURSE


O God what wilt thou say, Child? Wouldst thou tryTo kill me?—Oh, ’tis more than I can bear;Women, I will no more of it, this glareOf hated day, this shining of the sky.I will fling down my body, and let it lieTill life he gone!Women, God rest with you,My works are over! For the pure and trueAre forced to evil, against their own heart’s vow,And love it![She suddenly sees the Statute of CYPRIS, and stands with her eyes riveted upon it.Ah, Cyprian! No god art thou,But more than god, and greater, that hath thrustMe and my queen and all our house to dust![She throws herself on the ground close to the statue.
CHORUS


Some Women


O Women, have ye heard? Nay, dare ye hearThe desolate cry, of the young Queen’s misery?
A Woman


My Queen, I love thee dear,Yet liefer were I dead than framed like thee.
Others


Woe, woe to me for this thy bitter bane,Surely the food man feeds upon is pain!
Others


How wilt thou bear thee through this livelong day,Lost, and thine evil naked to the light?Strange things are close upon us—who shall sayHow strange?—save one thing that is plain to sight,The stroke of the Cyprian and the fall thereofOn thee, thou child of the Isle of fearful Love![PHAEDRA during this has risen from the couch and comes forward collectedly. As she speaks the NURSE gradually rouses herself, and listens more calmly.
PHAEDRA


O Women, dwellers in this portal-seatOf Pelops’ land, gazing towards my Crete,How oft, in other days than these, have IThrough night’s long hours thought of man’s misery,And how this life is wrecked! And, to mine eyes,Not in man’s knowledge, not in wisdom, liesThe lack that makes for sorrow. Nay, we scanAnd know the right—for wit bath many a man—


Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD   Dramatis Personæ