Hippolytus and the Bacchae
HIPPOLYTUS (3)

Euripides

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O shallop of Crete, whose milk-white wing

Through the swell and the storm-beating,

Bore us thy Prince's daughter,

Was it well she came from a joyous home

To a far King's bridal across the foam?

What joy hath her bridal brought her?

Sure some spell upon either hand

Flew 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 things

The soul of her rend and sever;

The bitter tide of calamity

Hath 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 choose

The one strait way for fame, and lose

The 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 head

Swinging beneath the rafters! Phaedra dead!

VOICE

O haste! This knot about her throat is made

So 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 r

In life, to finger at another's l

VOICE

Let it lie straight! Alas! the cold white thing

That guards his empty castle 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 acclaim

Within the house? The vassals' outcry came

To smite mine ears far off. It were more meet

To fling out wide the Castle gates, and greet

With 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 head

This 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 anguish? 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 her

With flowers, most evil-starred God's-messenger!

Ho, varlets, loose the portal bars; undo

The bolts; and let me see the bitter view

Of her whose death hath 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 bitterest

Of 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 flow

Above mine eyes, to be surmounted not.

Ah wife, sweet wife, what name

Can 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 rolled

From age to age on me,

For some dire sin wrought by dim kings of old.

LEADER

Sire, this great grief hath 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 Phaedra, more than thine.

[ He turns suddenly on the Attendants.]

Speak who speak can! What was it? What malign

Swift 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.]

SOME WOMEN

Woe, woe! God brings to birth

A new grief here, close on the other's tread!

My life hath 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 be wrecked! Help us who pray!

I know not what is here: some unseen thing

That 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 bear 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 be forgotten?—Oh, to fly

And 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 hath laid hand

On 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 own

Three 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 out

From all my realms. He shall be held about

By two great dooms. Or by Poseidon's breath

He 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 heed

For 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 fear

To help thee, but I see not yet the cause

That 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 Queen

Dead!

[ Murmurs in the crowd. ]

'Tis most strange. 'Tis passing strange, I ween.

'Twas here I left her. Scarce an hour hath run

Since 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 know

Of skill to stem the bitter flood of woe?

And human hearts in sorrow crave the more,

For knowledge, though the knowledge grieve them sore.

It is not love, to veil thy sorrows in

From 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 below

Some test of love, some sifting of the soul,

To tell the false and true! Or through the whole

Of men two voices ran, one true and right,

The other as chance willed it; that we might

Convict 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 ear

Whispered 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 lies

Beyond its fathers, must not God devise

Some new world far from ours, to hold therein

Such brood of all unfaithfulness and sin?

Look, all, upon this man, my son, his life

Sprung 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 lure

Fools after thee; call Orpheus King and Lord;

Make ecstasies and wonders! Thumb thine hoard

Of ancient scrolls and ghostly mysteries—

Now thou art caught and known!

Shun men like these,

I charge ye all! With solemn words they chase

their 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 be

Than this dead hand, to clear the guilt from thee?

"She hated thee," thou sayest; "the bastard born

Is ever sore and bitter as a thorn

To the true brood."—A sorry bargainer

In the ills and goods of life thou makest her,

If all her best-beloved she cast away

To wreck blind hate on thee!—What, wilt thou say

"Through every woman's nature one blind strand

Of passion winds, that men scarce understand?"—

Are we so different? Know I not the fire

And perilous flood of a young man's desire,

Desperate as any woman, and as blind,

When Cypris stings? Save that the man behind

Has 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 land

To exile with all speed. Come never more

To god-built Athens, not to the utmost shore

Of any realm where Theseus' arm is strong!

What? Shall I bow my head beneath this wrong,

And cower to thee? Not Isthmian Sinis so

Will bear men witness that I laid him low,

Nor Skiron's rocks, that share the salt sea's prey,

Grant that my hand hath weight vile things to slay!

LEADER

Alas! whom shall I call of mortal men

Happy? The highest are cast down again.

HIPPOLYTUS

Father, the hot strained fury of thy heart

Is terrible. Yet, albeit so swift thou art

Of 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 tell

My thoughts. 'Twere best with few, that know me well.—

Nay that is natural; tongues that sound but rude

In wise men's ears, speak to the multitude

With music.

None the less, since there is come

This stroke upon me, I must not be dumb,

But speak perforce... And there will I begin

Where thou beganst, as though to strip my sin

Naked, and I not speak a word!

Dost see

This sunlight and this earth? I swear to thee

There dwelleth not in these one man—deny

All 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 thirst

To hold them clean of all unrighteousness.

Our rule doth curse the tempters, and no less

Who yieldeth to the tempters.—How, thou say'st,

"Dupes that I jest at?" Nay; I make a jest

Of 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 mesh

Would grip me, stainless quite! No woman's flesh

Hath e'er this body touched. Of all such deed

Naught wot I, save what things a man may read

In 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, beyond

All woman's loveliness?

Was I some fond

False plotter, that I schemed to win through her

Thy castle's heirdom? Fond indeed I were!

Nay, a stark madman! "But a crown," thou sayest,

"Usurped, is sweet." Nay, rather most unblest

To all wise-hearted; sweet to fools and them

Whose eyes are blinded by the diadem.

In contests of all valour fain would I

Lead Hellas; but in rank and majesty

Not lead, but be at ease, with good men near

To 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 show

Who 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 incline

My 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 hurled

From 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 away

Her 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 assuage

Sin and the wrath of injured fatherhood!

HIPPOLYTUS

Am I so cool? Nay, Father, 'tis thy mood

That makes me marvel! By my faith, wert thou

The son, and I the sire; and deemed I now

In 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 sped

To simple death, nor by thine own decree.

Swift death is bliss to men in misery.

Far off, friendless forever, thou shalt drain

Amid 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 red

Atlantic marge! So do I hate thine head.

HIPPOLYTUS

Wilt weigh nor oath nor faith nor prophet's word

To prove me? Drive me from thy sight unheard?

THESEUS

This tablet here, that needs no prophet's lot

To speak from, tells me all. I ponder not

Thy fowls that fly above us! Let them fly.

HIPPOLYTUS

O ye great Gods, wherefore unlock not I

My 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 gain

To 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 door

Betake me, banished on a charge so sore?

THESEUS

Whoso delights to welcome to his hall

Vile ravishers... to guard his hearth withal!

HIPPOLYTUS

Thou seekst my heart, my tears? Aye, let it be

Thus! I am vile to all men, and to thee!

THESEUS

There was a time for tears and thought; the time

Ere 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 here

A dumb deed speaks against thee, and speaks clear!

HIPPOLYTUS

Alas!

Would I could stand and watch this thing, and see

My face, and weep for very pity of me!

THESEUS

Full of thyself, as ever! Not a thought

For 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 hand

Lift, 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 tell

The tale.—O thou belovèd, Leto's Maid,

Chase-comrade, fellow-rester in the glade,

Lo, I am driven with a caitiff's brand

Forth from great Athens! Fare ye well, O land

And city of old Erechtheus! Thou, Trozên,

What riches of glad youth mine eyes have seen

In thy brplain! Farewell! This is the end;

The last word, the last look!

Come, every friend

And 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 spot

Than 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

Far from my griefs; and a thought, deep in the dark of my mind,

Clings to a great Understanding. Yet all the spirit within me

Faints, when I watch men's deeds matched with the guerdon they find.

For Good comes in Evil's traces,

And the Evil the Good replaces;

And Life, 'mid the changing faces,

Wandereth weak and blind.

Women

What wilt thou grant me, O God? Lo, this is the prayer of my travail—

Some well-being; and chance not very bitter thereby;

Spirit uncrippled by pain; and a mind not deep to unravel

Truth unseen, nor yet dark with the brand of a lie.

With a veering mood to borrow

Its light from every morrow,

Fair friends and no deep sorrow,

Well could man live and die!

Men

Yet my spirit is no more clean,

And the weft of my hope is torn,

For the deed of wrong that mine eyes have seen,

The lie and the rage and the scorn;

A Star among men, yea, a Star

That in Hellas was bright,

By a Father's wrath driven far

To the wilds and the night.

Oh, alas for the sands of the shore!

Alas for the brakes of the hill,

Where the wolves shall fear thee no more,

And thy cry to Dictynna is still!

Women

No more in the yoke of thy car

Shall the colts of Enetia fleet;

Nor Limna's echoes quiver afar

To the clatter of galloping feet.

The sleepless music of old,

That leaped in the lyre,

Ceaseth now, and is cold,

In the halls of thy sire.

The bowers are discrowned and unladen

Where Artemis lay on the lea;

And the love-dream of many a maiden

Lost, in the losing of thee.

A Maiden

And I, even I,

For thy fall, O Friend,

Amid tears and tears,

Endure to the end

Of the empty years,

Of a life run dry.

In vain didst thou bear him,

Thou Mother forlorn!

Ye Gods that did snare him,

Lo, I cast in your faces

My hate and my scorn!

Ye love-linkèd Graces,

(Alas for the day!)

Was he naught, then, to you,

That ye cast him away,

The stainless and true,

From the old happy places?

LEADER

Look yonder! 'Tis the Prince's man, I ween

Speeding toward this gate, most dark of mien.

[A HENCHMAN enters in haste.]

HENCHMAN

Ye women, whither shall I go to seek

King Theseus? Is he in this dwelling? Speak!

LEADER

Lo, where he cometh through the Castle gate!

[THESEUS comes out from the Castle.]

HENCHMAN

O King, I bear thee tidings of dire weight

To thee, aye, and to every man, I ween,

From Athens to the marches of Trozên.

THESEUS

What? Some new stroke hath touched, unknown to me,

The sister cities of my sovranty?

HENCHMAN

Hippolytus is...Nay, not dead; but stark

Outstretched, a hairsbreadth this side of the dark.

THESEUS ( as though unmoved )

How slain? Was there some other man, whose wife

He had like mine denied, that sought his life?

HENCHMAN

His own wild team destroyed him, and the dire

Curse of thy lips.

The boon of thy great Sire

Is granted thee, O King, and thy son slain.

THESEUS

Ye Gods! And thou, Poseidon! Not in vain

I called thee Father; thou hast heard my prayer!

How did he die? Speak on. How closed the snare

Of Heaven to slay the shamer of my blood?

HENCHMAN

'Twas by the bank of beating sea we stood,

We thralls, and decked the steeds, and combed each mane;

Weeping; for word had come that ne'er again

The foot of our Hippolytus should roam

This land, but waste in exile by thy doom.

So stood we till he came, and in his tone

No music now save sorrow's, like our own,

And in his train a concourse without end

Of many a chase-fellow and many a friend.

At last he brushed his sobs away, and spake:

"Why this fond loitering? I would not break

My Father's law—Ho, there! My coursers four

And chariot, quick! This land is mine no more."

Thereat, be sure, each man of us made speed.

Swifter than speech we brought them up, each steed

Well dight and shining, at our Prince's side.

He grasped the reins upon the rail: one stride

And there he stood, a perfect charioteer,

Each foot in its own station set. Then clear

His voice rose, and his arms to heaven were spread:

"O Zeus, if I be false, strike thou me dead!

But, dead or living, let my Father see

One day, how falsely he hath hated me!"

Even as he spake, he lifted up the g

And smote; and the steeds sprang. And down the r

We henchmen followed, hard beside the rein,

Each hand, to speed him, toward the Argive plain

And Epidaurus.

So we made our way

Up toward the desert region, where the bay

Curls to a promontory near the verge

Of our Trozên, facing the southward surge

Of Saron's gulf. Just there an angry sound,

Slow-swelling, like God's thunder underground

Broke on us, and we trembled. And the steeds

Pricked their ears skyward, and threw back their heads.

And wonder came on all men, and affright,

Whence rose that awful voice. And swift our sight

Turned seaward, down the salt and roaring sand.

And there, above the horizon, seemed to stand

A wave unearthly, crested in the sky;

Till Skiron's Cape first vanished from mine eye,

Then sank the Isthmus hidden, then the rock

Of Epidaurus. Then it broke, one shock

And roar of gasping sea and spray flung far,

And shoreward swept, where stood the Prince's car.

Three lines of wave together raced, and, full

In the white crest of them, a wild Sea-Bull

Flung to the shore, a fell and marvellous Thing.

The whole land held his voice, and answering

Roared in each echo. And all we, gazing there,

Gazed seeing not; 'twas more than eyes could bear.

Then straight upon the team wild terror fell.

Howbeit, the Prince, cool-eyed and knowing well

Each changing mood a horse has, gripped the reins

Hard in both hands; then as an oarsman strains

Up from his bench, so strained he on the thong,

Back in the chariot swinging. But the young

Wild steeds bit hard the curb, and fled afar;

Nor rein nor guiding hand nor morticed car

Stayed them at all. For when he veered them round,

And aimed their flying feet to grassy ground,

In front uprose that Thing, and turned again

The four great coursers, terror-mad. But when

Their blind rage drove them toward the rocky places,

Silent and ever nearer to the traces,

It followed rockward, till one wheel-edge grazed.

The chariot tript and flew, and all was mazed

In turmoil. Up went wheel-box with a din,

Where the rock jagged, and nave and axle-pin.

And there—the long reins round him—there was he

Dragging, entangled irretrievably.

A dear head battering at the chariot side,

Sharp rocks, and rippled flesh, and a voice that cried:

"Stay, stay, O ye who fattened at my stalls,

Dash me not into nothing!—O thou false

Curse of my Father!—Help! Help, whoso can,

An innocent, innocent and stainless man!"

Many there were that laboured then, I wot,

To bear him succour, but could reach him not,

Till—who knows how?—at last the tangled rein

Unclasped him, and he fell, some little vein

Of life still pulsing in him.

All beside,

The steeds, the hornèd Horror of the Tide,

Had vanished—who knows where?—in that wild land.

O King, I am a bondsman of thine hand;

Yet love nor fear nor duty me shall win

To say thine innocent son hath died in sin.

All women born may hang themselves, for me,

And swing their dying words from every tree

On Ida! For I know that he was true!

LEADER

O God, so cometh new disaster, new

Despair! And no escape from what must be!

THESEUS

Hate of the man thus stricken lifted me

At first to joy at hearing of thy tale;

But now, some shame before the Gods, some pale

Pity for mine own blood, hath o'er me come.

I laugh not, neither weep, at this fell doom.

HENCHMAN

How then? Behoves it bear him here, or how

Best do thy pleasure?—Speak, Lord. Yet if thou

Wilt mark at all my word, thou wilt not be

Fierce-hearted to thy child in misery.

THESEUS

Aye, bring him hither. Let me see the face

Of him who durst deny my deep disgrace

And his own sin; yea, speak with him, and prove

His clear guilt by God's judgments from above.

[ The HENCHMAN departs to fetch HIPPOLYTUS; THESEUS sits waiting in

stern gloom, while the CHORUS sing. At the close of their song a

Divine Figure is seen approaching on a cloud in the air and the voice

of ARTEMIS speaks.]

CHORUS

Thou comest to bend the pride

Of the hearts of God and man,

Cypris; and by thy side,

In earth-encircling span,

He of the changing plumes,

The Wing that the world illumes,

As over the leagues of land flies he,

Over the salt and sounding sea.

For mad is the heart of Love,

And gold the gleam of his wing;

And all to the spell thereof

Bend, when he makes his spring;

All life that is wild and young

In mountain and wave and stream,

All that of earth is sprung,

Or breathes in the red sunbeam;

Yea, and Mankind. O'er all a royal throne,

Cyprian, Cyprian, is thine alone!

A VOICE FROM THE CLOUD

O thou that rulest in Aegeus' Hall,

I charge thee, hearken!

Yea, it is I,

Artemis, Virgin of God most High.

Thou bitter King, art thou glad withal

For thy murdered son?

For thine ear bent low to a lying Queen,

For thine heart so swift amid things unseen?

Lo, all may see what end thou hast won!

Go, sink thine head in the waste abyss;

Or aloft to another world than this,

Birdwise with wings,

Fly far to thine hiding,

Far over this blood that clots and clings;

For in righteous men and in holy things

No rest is thine nor abiding!

[ The cloud has become stationary in the air. ]

Hear, Theseus, all the story of thy grief!

Verily, I bring but anguish, not relief;

Yet, 'twas for this I came, to show how high

And clean was thy son's heart, that he may die

Honoured of men; aye, and to tell no less

The frenzy, or in some sort the nobleness,

Of thy dead wife. One Spirit there is, whom we

That know the joy of white virginity,

Most hate in heaven. She sent her fire to run

In Phaedra's veins, so that she loved thy son.

Yet strove she long with love, and in the stress

Fell not, till by her Nurse's craftiness

Betrayed, who stole, with oaths of secrecy,

To entreat thy son. And he, most righteously,

Nor did her will, nor, when thy railing scorn

Beat on him, broke the oath that he had sworn,

For God's sake. And thy Phaedra, panic-eyed,

Wrote a false writ, and slew thy son, and died,

Lying; but thou wast nimble to believe!

[THESEUS, at first bewildered, then dumfounded,

now utters a deep groan. ]

It stings thee, Theseus?—Nay, hear on and grieve

Yet sorer. Wottest thou three prayers were thine

Of sure fulfilment, from thy Sire divine?

Hast thou no foes about thee, then, that one—

Thou vile King!—must be turned against thy son?

The deed was thine. Thy Sea-born Sire but heard

The call of prayer, and bowed him to his word.

But thou in his eyes and in mine art found

Evil, who wouldst not think, nor probe, nor sound

The deeps of prophet's lore, nor day by day

Leave Time to search; but swifter than man may,

Let loose the curse to slay thine innocent son!

THESEUS

O Goddess, let me die!

ARTEMIS

Nay; thou hast done

A heavy wrong; yet even beyond this ill

Abides for thee forgiveness. 'Twas the will

Of Cypris that these evil things should be,

Sating her wrath. And this immutably

Hath Zeus ordained in heaven: no God may thwart

A God's fixed will; we grieve but stand apart.

Else, but for fear of the Great Father's blame,

Never had I to such extreme of shame

Bowed me, be sure, as here to stand and see

Slain him I loved best of mortality!

Thy fault, O King, its ignorance sunders wide

From very wickedness; and she who died

By death the more disarmed thee, making dumb

The voice of question. And the storm has come

Most bitterly of all on thee! Yet I

Have mine own sorrow, too. When good men die,

There is no joy in heaven, albeit our ire

On child and house of the evil falls like fire.

[ A throng is seen approaching; HIPPOLYTUS enters,

supported by his attendants. ]

CHORUS

Lo, it is he! The bright young head

Yet upright there!

Ah the torn flesh and the blood-stained hair;

Alas for the kindred's trouble!

It falls as fire from a God's hand sped,

Two deaths, and mourning double.

HIPPOLYTUS

Ah, pain, pain, pain!

O unrighteous curse! O unrighteous sire!

No hope.—My head is stabbed with fire,

And a leaping spasm about my brain.

Stay, let me rest. I can no more.

O fell, fell steeds that my own hand fed,

Have ye maimed me and slain, that loved me of yore?

—Soft there, ye thralls! No trembling hands

As ye lift me, now!—Who is that that stands

At the right?—Now firm, and with measured tread,

Lift one accursèd and stricken sore

By a father's sinning.

Thou, Zeus, dost see me? Yea, it is I;

The proud and pure, the server of God,

The white and shining in sanctity!

To a visible death, to an open sod,

I walk my ways;

And all the labour of saintly days

Lost, lost, without meaning!

Ah God, it crawls

This agony, over me!

Let be, ye thralls!

Come, Death, and cover me:

Come, O thou Healer blest!

But a little more,

And my soul is clear,

And the anguish o'er!

Oh, a spear, a spear!

To rend my soul to its rest!

Oh, strange, false Curse! Was there some blood-stained head,

Some father of my line, unpunishèd,

Whose guilt lived in his kin,

And passed, and slept, till after this long day

It lights... Oh, why on me? Me, far away

And innocent of sin?

O words that cannot save!

When will this breathing end in that last deep

Pain that is painlessness? 'Tis sleep I crave.

When wilt thou bring me sleep,

Thou dark and midnight magic of the grave!

ARTEMIS

Sore-stricken man, bethink thee in this stress,

Thou dost but die for thine own nobleness.

HIPPOLYTUS

Ah!

O breath of heavenly fragrance! Though my pain

Burns, I can feel thee and find rest again.

The Goddess Artemis is with me here.

ARTEMIS

With thee and loving thee, poor sufferer!

HIPPOLYTUS

Dost see me, Mistress, nearing my last sleep?

ARTEMIS

Aye, and would weep for thee, if Gods could weep.

HIPPOLYTUS

Who now shall hunt with thee or hold thy quiver?

ARTEMIS

He dies but my love cleaves to him for ever.

HIPPOLYTUS

Who guide thy chariot, keep thy shrine-flowers fresh?

ARTEMIS

The accursed Cyprian caught him in her mesh!

HIPPOLYTUS

The Cyprian? Now I see it!—Aye, 'twas she.

ARTEMIS

She missed her worship, loathed thy chastity!

HIPPOLYTUS

Three lives by her one hand! 'Tis all clear now.

ARTEMIS

Yea, three; thy father and his Queen and thou.

HIPPOLYTUS

My father; yea, he too is pitiable!

ARTEMIS

A plotting Goddess tripped him, and he fell.

HIPPOLYTUS

Father, where art thou?... Oh, thou sufferest sore!

THESEUS

Even unto death, child. There is joy no more.

HIPPOLYTUS

I pity thee in this coil; aye, more than me.

THESEUS

Would I could lie there dead instead of thee!

HIPPOLYTUS

Oh, bitter bounty of Poseidon's love!

THESEUS

Would God my lips had never breathed thereof!

HIPPOLYTUS ( gently )

Nay, thine own rage had slain me then, some wise!

THESEUS

A lying spirit had made blind mine eyes!

HIPPOLYTUS

Ah me!

Would that a mortal's curse could reach to God!

ARTEMIS

Let be! For not, though deep beneath the sod

Thou liest, not unrequited nor unsung

Shall this fell stroke, from Cypris' rancour sprung,

Quell thee, mine own, the saintly and the true!

My hand shall win its vengeance through and through,

Piercing with flawless shaft what heart soe'er

Of all men living is most dear to Her.

Yea, and to thee, for this sore travail's sake,

Honours most high in Trozên will I make;

For yokeless maids before their bridal night

Shall shear for thee their tresses; and a rite

Of honouring tears be thine in ceaseless store;

And virgin's thoughts in music evermore

Turn toward thee, and praise thee in the Song

Of Phaedra's far-famed love and thy great wrong.

O seed of ancient Aegeus, bend thee now

And clasp thy son. Aye, hold and fear not thou!

Not knowingly hast thou slain him; and man's way,

When Gods send error, needs must fall astray.

And thou, Hippolytus, shrink not from the King,

Thy father. Thou wast born to bear this thing.

Farewell! I may not watch man's fleeting breath,

Nor strain mine eyes with the effluence of death.

And sure that Terror now is very near.

[ The cloud slowly rises and floats away.]

HIPPOLYTUS

Farewell, farewell, most Blessèd! Lift thee clear

Of soiling men! Thou wilt not grieve in heaven

For my long love!...Father, thou art forgiven.

It was Her will. I am not wroth with thee...

I have obeyed Her all my days!...

Ah me,

The dark is drawing down upon mine eyes;

It hath me!... Father!... Hold me! Help me rise!

THESEUS ( supporting him in his arms )

Ah, woe! How dost thou torture me, my son!

HIPPOLYTUS

I see the Great Gates opening. I am gone.

THESEUS

Gone? And my hand red-reeking from this thing!

HIPPOLYTUS

Nay, nay; thou art assoiled of manslaying.

THESEUS

Thou leav'st me clear of murder? Sayst thou so?

HIPPOLYTUS

Yea, by the Virgin of the Stainless Bow!

THESEUS

Dear Son! Ah, now I see thy nobleness!

HIPPOLYTUS

Pray that a true-born child may fill my place.

THESEUS

Ah me, thy righteous and god-fearing heart!

HIPPOLYTUS

Farewell;

A long farewell, dear Father, ere we part!

[THESEUS bends down and embraces him passionately.]

THESEUS

Not yet!—O hope and bear while thou hast breath!

HIPPOLYTUS

Lo, I have borne my burden. This is death...

Quick, Father; lay the mantle on my face.

[THESEUS covers his face with a mantle and rises. ]

THESEUS

Ye bounds of Pallas and of Pelops' race,

What greatness have ye lost!

Woe, woe is me!

Thou Cyprian, long shall I remember thee!

CHORUS

On all this folk, both low and high,

A grief hath fallen beyond men's fears.

There cometh a throbbing of many tears,

A sound as of waters falling.

For when great men die,

A mighty name and a bitter cry

Rise up from a nation calling.

[ They move into the Castle, carrying the body of HIPPOLYTUS.]

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