SCENE I HIPPOLYTUS, THERAMENES [HIPPOLYTUS]: My mind is settled, dear Theramenes, And I can stay no more in lovely Troezen. In doubt that racks my soul with mortal anguish, I grow ashamed of such long idleness. Six months and more my father has been gone, And what may have befallen one so dear I know not, nor what corner of the earth Hides him. [THERAMENES]: And where, prince, will you look for him? Already, to content your just alarm, Have I not cross'd the seas on either side Of Corinth, ask'd if aught were known of Theseus Where Acheron is lost among the Shades, Visited Elis, doubled Toenarus, And sail'd into the sea that saw the fall Of Icarus? Inspired with what new hope, Under what favour'd skies think you to trace His footsteps? Who knows if the King, your father, Wishes the secret of his absence known? Perchance, while we are trembling for his life, The hero calmly plots some fresh intrigue, And only waits till the deluded fair-- [HIPPOLYTUS]: Cease, dear Theramenes, respect the name Of Theseus. Youthful errors have been left Behind, and no unworthy obstacle Detains him. Phaedra long has fix'd a heart Inconstant once, nor need she fear a rival. In seeking him I shall but do my duty, And leave a place I dare no longer see. [THERAMENES]: Indeed! When, prince, did you begin to dread These peaceful haunts, so dear to happy childhood, Where I have seen you oft prefer to stay, Rather than meet the tumult and the pomp Of Athens and the court? What danger shun you, Or shall I say what grief? [HIPPOLYTUS]: That happy time Is gone, and all is changed, since to these shores The gods sent Phaedra. [THERAMENES]: I perceive the cause Of your distress. It is the queen whose sight Offends you. With a step-dame's spite she schemed Your exile soon as she set eyes on you. But if her hatred is not wholly vanish'd, It has at least taken a milder aspect. Besides, what danger can a dying woman, One too who longs for death, bring on your head? Can Phaedra, sick'ning of a dire disease Of which she will not speak, weary of life And of herself, form any plots against you? [HIPPOLYTUS]: It is not her vain enmity I fear, Another foe alarms Hippolytus. I fly, it must be own'd, from young Aricia, The sole survivor of an impious race. [THERAMENES]: What! You become her persecutor too! The gentle sister of the cruel sons Of Pallas shared not in their perfidy; Why should you hate such charming innocence? [HIPPOLYTUS]: I should not need to fly, if it were hatred. [THERAMENES]: May I, then, learn the meaning of your flight? Is this the proud Hippolytus I see, Than whom there breathed no fiercer foe to love And to that yoke which Theseus has so oft Endured? And can it be that Venus, scorn'd So long, will justify your sire at last? Has she, then, setting you with other mortals, Forced e'en Hippolytus to offer incense Before her? Can you love? [HIPPOLYTUS]: Friend, ask me not. You, who have known my heart from infancy And all its feelings of disdainful pride, Spare me the shame of disavowing all That I profess'd. Born of an Amazon, The wildness that you wonder at I suck'd With mother's milk. When come to riper age, Reason approved what Nature had implanted. Sincerely bound to me by zealous service, You told me then the story of my sire, And know how oft, attentive to your voice, I kindled when I heard his noble acts, As you described him bringing consolation To mortals for the absence of Alcides, The highways clear'd of monsters and of robbers, Procrustes, Cercyon, Sciro, Sinnis slain, The Epidaurian giant's bones dispersed, Crete reeking with the blood of Minotaur. But when you told me of less glorious deeds, Troth plighted here and there and everywhere, Young Helen stolen from her home at Sparta, And Periboea's tears in Salamis, With many another trusting heart deceived Whose very names have 'scaped his memory, Forsaken Ariadne to the rocks Complaining, last this Phaedra, bound to him By better ties,--you know with what regret I heard and urged you to cut short the tale, Happy had I been able to erase From my remembrance that unworthy part Of such a splendid record. I, in turn, Am I too made the slave of love, and brought To stoop so low? The more contemptible That no renown is mine such as exalts The name of Theseus, that no monsters quell'd Have given me a right to share his weakness. And if my pride of heart must needs be humbled, Aricia should have been the last to tame it. Was I beside myself to have forgotten Eternal barriers of separation Between us? By my father's stern command Her brethren's blood must ne'er be reinforced By sons of hers; he dreads a single shoot From stock so guilty, and would fain with her Bury their name, that, even to the tomb Content to be his ward, for her no torch Of Hymen may be lit. Shall I espouse Her rights against my sire, rashly provoke His wrath, and launch upon a mad career-- [THERAMENES]: The gods, dear prince, if once your hour is come, Care little for the reasons that should guide us. Wishing to shut your eyes, Theseus unseals them; His hatred, stirring a rebellious flame Within you, lends his enemy new charms. And, after all, why should a guiltless passion Alarm you? Dare you not essay its sweetness, But follow rather a fastidious scruple? Fear you to stray where Hercules has wander'd? What heart so stout that Venus has not vanquish'd? Where would you be yourself, so long her foe, Had your own mother, constant in her scorn Of love, ne'er glowed with tenderness for Theseus? What boots it to affect a pride you feel not? Confess it, all is changed; for some time past You have been seldom seen with wild delight Urging the rapid car along the strand, Or, skilful in the art that Neptune taught, Making th' unbroken steed obey the bit; Less often have the woods return'd our shouts; A secret burden on your spirits cast Has dimm'd your eye. How can I doubt you love? Vainly would you conceal the fatal wound. Has not the fair Aricia touch'd your heart? [HIPPOLYTUS]: Theramenes, I go to find my father. [THERAMENES]: Will you not see the queen before you start, My prince? [HIPPOLYTUS]: That is my purpose: you can tell her. Yes, I will see her; duty bids me do it. But what new ill vexes her dear Oenone? SCENE II HIPPOLYTUS, OENONE, THERAMENES [OENONE]: Alas, my lord, what grief was e'er like mine? The queen has almost touch'd the gates of death. Vainly close watch I keep by day and night, E'en in my arms a secret malady Slays her, and all her senses are disorder'd. Weary yet restless from her couch she rises, Pants for the outer air, but bids me see That no one on her misery intrudes. She comes. [HIPPOLYTUS]: Enough. She shall not be disturb'd, Nor be confronted with a face she hates. SCENE III PHAEDRA, OENONE [PHAEDRA]: We have gone far enough. Stay, dear Oenone; Strength fails me, and I needs must rest awhile. My eyes are dazzled with this glaring light So long unseen, my trembling knees refuse Support. Ah me! [OENONE]: Would Heaven that our tears Might bring relief! [PHAEDRA]: Ah, how these cumbrous gauds, These veils oppress me! What officious hand Has tied these knots, and gather'd o'er my brow These clustering coils? How all conspires to add To my distress! [OENONE]: What is one moment wish'd, The next, is irksome. Did you not just now, Sick of inaction, bid us deck you out, And, with your former energy recall'd, Desire to go abroad, and see the light Of day once more? You see it, and would fain Be hidden from the sunshine that you sought. [PHAEDRA]: Thou glorious author of a hapless race, Whose daughter 'twas my mother's boast to be, Who well may'st blush to see me in such plight, For the last time I come to look on thee, O Sun! [OENONE]: What! Still are you in love with death? Shall I ne'er see you, reconciled to life, Forego these cruel accents of despair? [PHAEDRA]: Would I were seated in the forest's shade! When may I follow with delighted eye, Thro' glorious dust flying in full career, A chariot-- [OENONE]: Madam? [PHAEDRA]: Have I lost my senses? What said I? and where am I? Whither stray Vain wishes? Ah! The gods have made me mad. I blush, Oenone, and confusion covers My face, for I have let you see too clearly The shame of grief that, in my own despite, O'erflows these eyes of mine. [OENONE]: If you must blush, Blush at a silence that inflames your woes. Resisting all my care, deaf to my voice, Will you have no compassion on yourself, But let your life be ended in mid course? What evil spell has drain'd its fountain dry? Thrice have the shades of night obscured the heav'ns Since sleep has enter'd thro' your eyes, and thrice The dawn has chased the darkness thence, since food Pass'd your wan lips, and you are faint and languid. To what dread purpose is your heart inclined? How dare you make attempts upon your life, And so offend the gods who gave it you, Prove false to Theseus and your marriage vows, Ay, and betray your most unhappy children, Bending their necks yourself beneath the yoke? That day, be sure, which robs them of their mother, Will give high hopes back to the stranger's son, To that proud enemy of you and yours, To whom an Amazon gave birth, I mean Hippolytus-- [PHAEDRA]: Ye gods! [OENONE]: Ah, this reproach Moves you! [PHAEDRA]: Unhappy woman, to what name Gave your mouth utterance? [OENONE]: Your wrath is just. 'Tis well that that ill-omen'd name can rouse Such rage. Then live. Let love and duty urge Their claims. Live, suffer not this son of Scythia, Crushing your children 'neath his odious sway, To rule the noble offspring of the gods, The purest blood of Greece. Make no delay; Each moment threatens death; quickly restore Your shatter'd strength, while yet the torch of life Holds out, and can be fann'd into a flame. [PHAEDRA]: Too long have I endured its guilt and shame! [OENONE]: Why? What remorse gnaws at your heart? What crime Can have disturb'd you thus? Your hands are not Polluted with the blood of innocence? [PHAEDRA]: Thanks be to Heav'n, my hands are free from stain. Would that my soul were innocent as they! [OENONE]: What awful project have you then conceived, Whereat your conscience should be still alarm'd? [PHAEDRA]: Have I not said enough? Spare me the rest. I die to save myself a full confession. [OENONE]: Die then, and keep a silence so inhuman; But seek some other hand to close your eyes. Tho' but a spark of life remains within you, My soul shall go before you to the Shades. A thousand roads are always open thither; Pain'd at your want of confidence, I'll choose The shortest. Cruel one, when has my faith Deceived you! Think how in my arms you lay New born. For you, my country and my children I have forsaken. Do you thus repay My faithful service? [PHAEDRA]: What do you expect From words so bitter? Were I to break silence Horror would freeze your blood. [OENONE]: What can you say To horrify me more than to behold You die before my eyes? [PHAEDRA]: When you shall know My crime, my death will follow none the less, But with the added stain of guilt. [OENONE]: Dear Madam, By all the tears that I have shed for you, By these weak knees I clasp, relieve my mind From torturing doubt. [PHAEDRA]: It is your wish. Then rise. [OENONE]: I hear you. Speak. [PHAEDRA]: Heav'ns! How shall I begin? [OENONE]: Dismiss vain fears, you wound me with distrust. [PHAEDRA]: O fatal animosity of Venus! Into what wild distractions did she cast My mother! [OENONE]: Be they blotted from remembrance, And for all time to come buried in silence. [PHAEDRA]: My sister Ariadne, by what love Were you betray'd to death, on lonely shores Forsaken! [OENONE]: Madam, what deep-seated pain Prompts these reproaches against all your kin? [PHAEDRA]: It is the will of Venus, and I perish, Last, most unhappy of a family Where all were wretched. [OENONE]: Do you love? [PHAEDRA]: I feel All its mad fever. [OENONE]: Ah! For whom? [PHAEDRA]: Hear now The crowning horror. Yes, I love--my lips Tremble to say his name. [OENONE]: Whom? [PHAEDRA]: Know you him, Son of the Amazon, whom I've oppress'd So long? [OENONE]: Hippolytus? Great gods! [PHAEDRA]: 'Tis you Have named him. [OENONE]: All my blood within my veins Seems frozen. O despair! O cursed race! Ill-omen'd journey! Land of misery! Why did we ever reach thy dangerous shores? [PHAEDRA]: My wound is not so recent. Scarcely had I Been bound to Theseus by the marriage yoke, And happiness and peace seem'd well secured, When Athens show'd me my proud enemy. I look'd, alternately turn'd pale and blush'd To see him, and my soul grew all distraught; A mist obscured my vision, and my voice Falter'd, my blood ran cold, then burn'd like fire; Venus I felt in all my fever'd frame, Whose fury had so many of my race Pursued. With fervent vows I sought to shun Her torments, built and deck'd for her a shrine, And there, 'mid countless victims did I seek The reason I had lost; but all for naught, No remedy could cure the wounds of love! In vain I offer'd incense on her altars; When I invoked her name my heart adored Hippolytus, before me constantly; And when I made her altars smoke with victims, 'Twas for a god whose name I dared not utter. I fled his presence everywhere, but found him-- O crowning horror!--in his father's features. Against myself, at last, I raised revolt, And stirr'd my courage up to persecute The enemy I loved. To banish him I wore a step--dame's harsh and jealous carriage, With ceaseless cries I clamour'd for his exile, Till I had torn him from his father's arms. I breathed once more, Oenone; in his absence My days flow'd on less troubled than before, And innocent. Submissive to my husband, I hid my grief, and of our fatal marriage Cherish'd the fruits. Vain caution! Cruel Fate! Brought hither by my spouse himself, I saw Again the enemy whom I had banish'd, And the old wound too quickly bled afresh. No longer is it love hid in my heart, But Venus in her might seizing her prey. I have conceived just terror for my crime; I hate my life, and hold my love in horror. Dying I wish'd to keep my fame unsullied, And bury in the grave a guilty passion; But I have been unable to withstand Tears and entreaties, I have told you all; Content, if only, as my end draws near, You do not vex me with unjust reproaches, Nor with vain efforts seek to snatch from death The last faint lingering sparks of vital breath. SCENE IV PHAEDRA, OENONE, PANOPE [PANOPE]: Fain would I hide from you tidings so sad, But 'tis my duty, Madam, to reveal them. The hand of death has seized your peerless husband, And you are last to hear of this disaster. [OENONE]: What say you, Panope? [PANOPE]: The queen, deceived By a vain trust in Heav'n, begs safe return For Theseus, while Hippolytus his son Learns of his death from vessels that are now In port. [PHAEDRA]: Ye gods! [PANOPE]: Divided counsels sway The choice of Athens; some would have the prince, Your child, for master; others, disregarding The laws, dare to support the stranger's son. 'Tis even said that a presumptuous faction Would crown Aricia and the house of Pallas. I deem'd it right to warn you of this danger. Hippolytus already is prepared To start, and should he show himself at Athens, 'Tis to be fear'd the fickle crowd will all Follow his lead. [OENONE]: Enough. The queen, who hears you, By no means will neglect this timely warning. SCENE V PHAEDRA, OENONE [OENONE]: Dear lady, I had almost ceased to urge The wish that you should live, thinking to follow My mistress to the tomb, from which my voice Had fail'd to turn you; but this new misfortune Alters the aspect of affairs, and prompts Fresh measures. Madam, Theseus is no more, You must supply his place. He leaves a son, A slave, if you should die, but, if you live, A King. On whom has he to lean but you? No hand but yours will dry his tears. Then live For him, or else the tears of innocence Will move the gods, his ancestors, to wrath Against his mother. Live, your guilt is gone, No blame attaches to your passion now. The King's decease has freed you from the bonds That made the crime and horror of your love. Hippolytus no longer need be dreaded, Him you may see henceforth without reproach. It may be, that, convinced of your aversion, He means to head the rebels. Undeceive him, Soften his callous heart, and bend his pride. King of this fertile land, in Troezen here His portion lies; but as he knows, the laws Give to your son the ramparts that Minerva Built and protects. A common enemy Threatens you both, unite them to oppose Aricia. [PHAEDRA]: To your counsel I consent. Yes, I will live, if life can be restored, If my affection for a son has pow'r To rouse my sinking heart at such a dangerous hour.