Hippolytus; The Bacchae - BestLightNovel.com
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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 Blessed! 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 a.s.soiled 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 n.o.bleness!
HIPPOLYTUS Pray that a true-born child may fill my place.
THESEUS Ah me, thy righteous and G.o.d-fearing heart!
HIPPOLYTUS Farewell; A long farewell, dear Father, ere we part!
[THESEUS _bends down and embraces him pa.s.sionately_.]
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.]
____________________________________________________________________
THE BACCHAE
OF EURIPIDES
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
DIONYSUS, THE G.o.d; _son of Zeus and of the Theban princess Semele_.
CADMUS, _formerly King of Thebes, father of Semele_.
PENTHEUS, _King of Thebes, grandson of Cadmus_.
AGAVE, _daughter of Cadmus, mother of Pentheus_.
TEIRESIAS, _an aged Theban prophet_.
A SOLDIER OF PENTHEUS' GUARD.
TWO MESSENGERS.
A CHORUS OF INSPIRED DAMSELS, _following Dionysus from the East_.
_"The play was first produced after the death of Euripides by his son who bore the same name, together with the Iphigenia in Aulis and the Alcmaeon, probably in the year 405 B.C."_
_The background represents the front of the Castle of_ PENTHEUS, _King of Thebes. At one side is visible the sacred Tomb of Semele, a little enclosure overgrown with wild vines, with a cleft in the rocky floor of it from which there issues at times steam or smoke. The G.o.d_ DIONYSUS _is discovered alone.
DIONYSUS Behold, G.o.d's Son is come unto this land Of heaven's hot splendour lit to life, when she Of Thebes, even I, Dionysus, whom the brand Who bore me, Cadmus' daughter Semele, Died here. So, changed in shape from G.o.d to man, I walk again by Dirce's streams and scan Ismenus' sh.o.r.e. There by the castle side I see her place, the Tomb of the Lightning's Bride, The wreck of smouldering chambers, and the great Faint wreaths of fire undying--as the hate Dies not, that Hera held for Semele.
Aye, Cadmus hath done well; in purity He keeps this place apart, inviolate, His daughter's sanctuary; and I have set My green and cl.u.s.tered vines to robe it round Far now behind me lies the golden ground Of Lydian and of Phrygian; far away The wide hot plains where Persian sunbeams play, The Bactrian war-holds, and the storm-oppressed Clime of the Mede, and Araby the Blest, And Asia all, that by the salt sea lies In proud embattled cities, motley-wise Of h.e.l.lene and Barbarian interwrought; And now I come to h.e.l.las--having taught All the world else my dances and my rite Of mysteries, to show me in men's sight Manifest G.o.d.
And first of Helene lands I cry this Thebes to waken; set her hands To clasp my wand, mine ivied javelin, And round her shoulders hang my wild fawn-skin.
For they have scorned me whom it least beseemed, Semele's sisters; mocked by birth, nor deemed That Dionysus sprang from Dian seed.
My mother sinned, said they; and in her need, With Cadmus plotting, cloaked her human shame With the dread name of Zeus; for that the flame From heaven consumed her, seeing she lied to G.o.d.
Thus must they vaunt; and therefore hath my rod On them first fallen, and stung them forth wild-eyed From empty chambers; the bare mountain side Is made their home, and all their hearts are flame.
Yea, I have bound upon the necks of them The harness of my rites. And with them all The seed of womankind from hut and hall Of Thebes, hath this my magic goaded out.
And there, with the old King's daughters, in a rout Confused, they make their dwelling-place between The roofless rocks and shadowy pine trees green.
Thus shall this Thebes, how sore soe'er it smart, Learn and forget not, till she crave her part In mine adoring; thus must I speak clear To save my mother's fame, and crown me here, As true G.o.d, born by Semele to Zeus.
Now Cadmus yieldeth up his throne and use Of royal honour to his daughter's son Pentheus; who on my body hath begun A war with G.o.d. He thrusteth me away From due drink-offering, and, when men pray, My name entreats not. Therefore on his own Head and his people's shall my power be shown.
Then to another land, when all things here Are well, must I fare onward, making clear My G.o.dhead's might. But should this Theban town Essay with wrath and battle to drag down My maids, lo, in their path myself shall be, And maniac armies battled after me!
For this I veil my G.o.dhead with the wan Form of the things that die, and walk as Man.
O Brood of Tmolus o'er the wide world flown, O Lydian band, my chosen and mine own, Damsels uplifted o'er the orient deep To wander where I wander, and to sleep Where I sleep; up, and wake the old sweet sound, The clang that I and mystic Rhea found, The Timbrel of the Mountain! Gather all Thebes to your song round Pentheus' royal hall.
I seek my new-made wors.h.i.+ppers, to guide Their dances up Kithaeron's pine clad side.
[_As he departs, there comes stealing in from the left a band of fifteen Eastern Women, the light of the sunrise streaming upon their long white robes and ivy-bound hair. They wear fawn-skins over the robes, and carry some of them timbrels, some pipes and other instruments. Many bear the thyrsus, or sacred Wand, made of reed ringed with ivy. They enter stealthily till they see that the place is empty, and then begin their mystic song of wors.h.i.+p._]
CHORUS
_A Maiden_ From Asia, from the dayspring that uprises To Bromios ever glorying we came.
We laboured for our Lord in many guises; We toiled, but the toil is as the prize is; Thou Mystery, we hail thee by thy name!
_Another_ Who lingers in the road? Who espies us?
We shall hide him in his house nor be bold.
Let the heart keep silence that defies us; For I sing this day to Dionysus The song that is appointed from of old.
_All the Maidens_ Oh, blessed he in all wise, Who hath drunk the Living Fountain, Whose life no folly staineth, And his soul is near to G.o.d; Whose sins are lifted, pall-wise, As he wors.h.i.+ps on the Mountain, And where Cybele ordaineth, Our Mother, he has trod: