Hippolytus/The Bacchae | Page 3

huntsmen, to the Castle! Make your way Straight to the feast room; 'tis a merry thing After the chase, a board of banqueting. And see the steeds be groomed, and in array The chariot dight. I drive them forth to-day [_He pauses, and makes a slight gesture of reverence to the Statue on the left. Then to the_ OLD HUNTSMAN.] That for thy Cyprian, friend, and nought beside! [HIPPOLYTUS _follows the huntsmen, who stream by the central door in the Castle. The_ OLD HUNTSMAN remains.]
HUNTSMAN (_approaching the Statue and kneeling_) O Cyprian--for a young man in his pride I will not follow!--here before thee, meek, In that one language that a slave may speak, I pray thee; Oh, if some wild heart in froth Of youth surges against thee, be not wroth For ever! Nay, be far and hear not then: Gods should be gentler and more wise than men! [He rises and follows the others into the Castle.]
_The Orchestra is empty for a moment, then there enter from right and left several Trosenian women young and old. Their number eventually amounts to fifteen._
CHORUS There riseth a rock-born river, Of Ocean's tribe, men say; The crags of it gleam and quiver, And pitchers dip in the spray: A woman was there with raiment white To bathe and spread in the warm sunlight, And she told a tale to me there by the river The tale of the Queen and her evil day:
How, ailing beyond allayment, Within she hath bowed her head, And with shadow of silken raiment The bright brown hair bespread. For three long days she hath lain forlorn, Her lips untainted of flesh or corn, For that secret sorrow beyond allayment That steers to the far sad shore of the dead.
Some Women Is this some Spirit, O child of man? Doth Hecat hold thee perchance, or Pan? Doth she of the Mountains work her ban, Or the dread Corybantes bind thee?
Others Nay, is it sin that upon thee lies, Sin of forgotten sacrifice, In thine own Dictynna's sea-wild eyes? Who in Limna here can find thee; For the Deep's dry floor is her easy way, And she moves in the salt wet whirl of the spray.
Other Women Or doth the Lord of Erechtheus' race, Thy Theseus, watch for a fairer face, For secret arms in a silent place, Far from thy love or chiding?
Others Or hath there landed, amid the loud Hum of Piraeus' sailor-crowd, Some Cretan venturer, weary-browed, Who bears to the Queen some tiding; Some far home-grief, that hath bowed her low, And chained her soul to a bed of woe?
An Older Woman Nay--know yet not?--this burden hath alway lain On the devious being of woman; yea, burdens twain, The burden of Wild Will and the burden of Pain. Through my heart once that wind of terror sped; But I, in fear confess��d, Cried from the dark to Her in heavenly bliss, The Helper of Pain, the Bow-Maid Artemis: Whose feet I praise for ever, where they tread Far off among the bless��d!
THE LEADER But see, the Queen's grey nurse at the door, Sad-eyed and sterner, methinks, than of yore With the Queen. Doth she lead her hither To the wind and sun?--Ah, fain would I know What strange betiding hath blanched that brow And made that young life wither. [The NURSE comes out from the central door followed by_ PHAEDRA, _who is supported by two handmaids. They make ready a couch for_ PHAEDRA to lie upon.]
NURSE O sick and sore are the days of men! What wouldst thou? What shall I change again Here is the Sun for thee; here is the sky; And thy weary pillows wind-swept lie, By the castle door. But the cloud of thy brow is dark, I ween; And soon thou wilt back to thy bower within: So swift to change is the path of thy feet, And near things hateful, and far things sweet; So was it before!
Oh, pain were better than tending pain! For that were single, and this is twain, With grief of heart and labour of limb. Yet all man's life is but ailing and dim, And rest upon earth comes never. But if any far-off state there be, Dearer than life to mortality; The hand of the Dark hath hold thereof, And mist is under and mist above. And so we are sick of life, and cling On earth to this nameless and shining thing. For other life is a fountain sealed, And the deeps below are unrevealed, And we drift on legends for ever! [PHAEDRA _during this has been laid on her couch; she speaks to the handmaids_.]
PHAEDRA Yes; lift me: not my head so low. There, hold my arms.--Fair arms they seem!-- My poor limbs scarce obey me now! Take off that hood