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SCENE V PHAEDRA, HIPPOLYTUS, OENONE
PHAEDRA (to OENONE) There I see him!
My blood forgets to flow, my tongue to speak What I am come to say.
OENONE Think of your son, How all his hopes depend on you.
PHAEDRA I hear You leave us, and in haste. I come to add My tears to your distress, and for a son Plead my alarm. No more has he a father, And at no distant day my son must witness My death. Already do a thousand foes Threaten his youth. You only can defend him But in my secret heart remorse awakes, And fear lest I have shut your ears against His cries. I tremble lest your righteous anger Visit on him ere long the hatred earn'd By me, his mother.
HIPPOLYTUS No such base resentment, Madam, is mine.
PHAEDRA I could not blame you, Prince, If you should hate me. I have injured you: So much you know, but could not read my heart.
T' incur your enmity has been mine aim.
The self-same borders could not hold us both; In public and in private I declared Myself your foe, and found no peace till seas Parted us from each other. I forbade Your very name to be p.r.o.nounced before me.
And yet if punishment should be proportion'd To the offence, if only hatred draws Your hatred, never woman merited More pity, less deserved your enmity.
HIPPOLYTUS A mother jealous of her children's rights Seldom forgives the offspring of a wife Who reign'd before her. Hara.s.sing suspicions Are common sequels of a second marriage.
Of me would any other have been jealous No less than you, perhaps more violent.
PHAEDRA Ah, Prince, how Heav'n has from the general law Made me exempt, be that same Heav'n my witness!
Far different is the trouble that devours me!
HIPPOLYTUS This is no time for self-reproaches, Madam.
It may be that your husband still beholds The light, and Heav'n may grant him safe return, In answer to our prayers. His guardian G.o.d Is Neptune, ne'er by him invoked in vain.
PHAEDRA He who has seen the mansions of the dead Returns not thence. Since to those gloomy sh.o.r.es Theseus is gone, 'tis vain to hope that Heav'n May send him back. Prince, there is no release From Acheron's greedy maw. And yet, methinks, He lives, and breathes in you. I see him still Before me, and to him I seem to speak; My heart-- Oh! I am mad; do what I will, I cannot hide my pa.s.sion.
HIPPOLYTUS Yes, I see The strange effects of love. Theseus, tho' dead, Seems present to your eyes, for in your soul There burns a constant flame.
PHAEDRA Ah, yes for Theseus I languish and I long, not as the Shades Have seen him, of a thousand different forms The fickle lover, and of Pluto's bride The would-be ravisher, but faithful, proud E'en to a slight disdain, with youthful charms Attracting every heart, as G.o.ds are painted, Or like yourself. He had your mien, your eyes, Spoke and could blush like you, when to the isle Of Crete, my childhood's home, he cross'd the waves, Worthy to win the love of Minos' daughters.
What were you doing then? Why did he gather The flow'r of Greece, and leave Hippolytus?
Oh, why were you too young to have embark'd On board the s.h.i.+p that brought thy sire to Crete?
At your hands would the monster then have perish'd, Despite the windings of his vast retreat.
To guide your doubtful steps within the maze My sister would have arm'd you with the clue.
But no, therein would Phaedra have forestall'd her, Love would have first inspired me with the thought; And I it would have been whose timely aid Had taught you all the labyrinth's crooked ways.
What anxious care a life so dear had cost me!
No thread had satisfied your lover's fears: I would myself have wish'd to lead the way, And share the peril you were bound to face; Phaedra with you would have explored the maze, With you emerged in safety, or have perish'd.
HIPPOLYTUS G.o.ds! What is this I hear? Have you forgotten That Theseus is my father and your husband?
PHAEDRA Why should you fancy I have lost remembrance Thereof, and am regardless of mine honour?
HIPPOLYTUS Forgive me, Madam. With a blush I own That I misconstrued words of innocence.
For very shame I cannot bear your sight Longer. I go--
PHAEDRA Ah! cruel Prince, too well You understood me. I have said enough To save you from mistake. I love. But think not That at the moment when I love you most I do not feel my guilt; no weak compliance Has fed the poison that infects my brain.
The ill-starr'd object of celestial vengeance, I am not so detestable to you As to myself. The G.o.ds will bear me witness, Who have within my veins kindled this fire, The G.o.ds, who take a barbarous delight In leading a poor mortal's heart astray.
Do you yourself recall to mind the past: 'Twas not enough for me to fly, I chased you Out of the country, wis.h.i.+ng to appear Inhuman, odious; to resist you better, I sought to make you hate me. All in vain!
Hating me more I loved you none the less: New charms were lent to you by your misfortunes.
I have been drown'd in tears, and scorch'd by fire; Your own eyes might convince you of the truth, If for one moment you could look at me.
What is't I say? Think you this vile confession That I have made is what I meant to utter?
Not daring to betray a son for whom I trembled, 'twas to beg you not to hate him I came. Weak purpose of a heart too full Of love for you to speak of aught besides!
Take your revenge, punish my odious pa.s.sion; Prove yourself worthy of your valiant sire, And rid the world of an offensive monster!
Does Theseus' widow dare to love his son?
The frightful monster! Let her not escape you!
Here is my heart. This is the place to strike.
Already prompt to expiate its guilt, I feel it leap impatiently to meet Your arm. Strike home. Or, if it would disgrace you To steep your hand in such polluted blood, If that were punishment too mild to slake Your hatred, lend me then your sword, if not Your arm. Quick, give't.
OENONE What, Madam, will you do?
Just G.o.ds! But someone comes. Go, fly from shame, You cannot 'scape if seen by any thus.
SCENE VI HIPPOLYTUS, THERAMENES
THERAMENES Is that the form of Phaedra that I see Hurried away? What mean these signs of sorrow?
Where is your sword? Why are you pale, confused?
HIPPOLYTUS Friend, let us fly. I am, indeed, confounded With horror and astonishment extreme.
Phaedra--but no; G.o.ds, let this dreadful secret Remain for ever buried in oblivion.
THERAMENES The s.h.i.+p is ready if you wish to sail.
But Athens has already giv'n her vote; Their leaders have consulted all her tribes; Your brother is elected, Phaedra wins.
HIPPOLYTUS Phaedra?
THERAMENES A herald, charged with a commission From Athens, has arrived to place the reins Of power in her hands. Her son is King.
HIPPOLYTUS Ye G.o.ds, who know her, do ye thus reward Her virtue?
THERAMENES A faint rumour meanwhile whispers That Theseus is not dead, but in Epirus Has shown himself. But, after all my search, I know too well--
HIPPOLYTUS Let nothing be neglected.
This rumour must be traced back to its source.
If it be found unworthy of belief, Let us set sail, and cost whate'er it may, To hands deserving trust the sceptre's sway.
ACT III
Scene I PHAEDRA, OENONE
PHAEDRA Ah! Let them take elsewhere the worthless honours They bring me. Why so urgent I should see them?
What flattering balm can soothe my wounded heart?
Far rather hide me: I have said too much.