I cannot tell; be content, my child, to profit by it and ask no
questions.
PHAEDRA
I fear me thou wilt prove too wise for me.
NURSE
If thou fear this,
confess thyself afraid of all; but why thy
terror!
PHAEDRA
Lest thou shouldst breathe a word of this to Theseus' son.
NURSE
Peace, my child! I will do all things well; only be thou, queen
Cypris, ocean's child, my
partner in the work! And for the rest of
my purpose, it will be enough for me to tell it to our friends
within the house.
(The NURSE goes into the palace.)
CHORUS (singing)
strophe 1
O Love, Love, that from the eyes diffusest soft desire, bringing
on the souls of those, whom thou dost camp against, sweet grace, O
never in evil mood appear to me, nor out of time and tune approach!
Nor fire nor
meteor hurls a mightier bolt than Aphrodite's shaft
shot by the hands of Love, the child of Zeus.
antistrophe 1
Idly, idly by the streams of Alpheus and in the Pythian shrines of
Phoebus, Hellas heaps the slaughtered steers; while Love we worship
not, Love, the king of men, who holds the key to Aphrodite's
sweetest bower,-worship not him who, when he comes, lays waste and
marks his path to
mortal hearts by wide-spread woe.
strophe 2
There was that
maiden in Oechalia, a girl unwed, that knew no
wooer yet nor married joys; her did the Queen of Love
snatch from
her home across the sea and gave unto Alcmena's son, mid blood and
smoke and
murderous marriage-hymns, to be to him a
frantic fiend of
hell; woe! woe for his wooing!
antistrophe 2
Ah! holy walls of Thebes, ah! fount of Dirce, ye could testify
what course the love-queen follows. For with the blazing levin-bolt
did she cut short the fatal marriage of Semele, mother of Zeus-born
Bacchus. All things she doth
inspire, dread
goddess, winging her
flight
hither and t
hither like a bee.
PHAEDRA
Peace, oh women, peace! I am
undone.
LEADER OF THE CHORUS
What, Phaedra, is this dread event within thy house?
PHAEDRA
Hush! let me hear what those within are saying.
LEADER
I am silent; this is surely the prelude to evil.
PHAEDRA (chanting)
Great gods! how awful are my
sufferings!
CHORUS (chanting)
What a cry was there! what loud alarm! say what sudden terror,
lady, doth thy soul dismay.
PHAEDRA
I am
undone. Stand here at the door and hear the noise arising
in the house.
CHORUS (chanting)
Thou art already by the bolted door; 'tis for thee to note the
sounds that issue from within. And tell me, O tell me what evil can be
on foot.
PHAEDRA
'Tis the son of the horse-loving Amazon who calls, Hippolytus,
uttering foul curses on my servant.
CHORUS (chanting)
I hear a noise but cannot
dearly tell which way it comes. Ah! 'tis
through the door the sound reached thee.
PHAEDRA
Yes, yes, he is
calling her
plainly enough a go-between in vice,
traitress to her master's honour.
CHORUS (chanting)