Phaedra | Page 9

yourself? Was it not boon enough never to hate me, So long to have abstain'd from harbouring The enmity--
HIPPOLYTUS To hate you? I, to hate you? However darkly my fierce pride was painted, Do you suppose a monster gave me birth? What savage temper, what envenom'd hatred Would not be mollified at sight of you? Could I resist the soul-bewitching charm--
ARICIA Why, what is this, Sir?
HIPPOLYTUS I have said too much Not to say more. Prudence in vain resists The violence of passion. I have broken Silence at last, and I must tell you now The secret that my heart can hold no longer. You see before you an unhappy instance Of hasty pride, a prince who claims compassion I, who, so long the enemy of Love, Mock'd at his fetters and despised his captives, Who, pitying poor mortals that were shipwreck'd, In seeming safety view'd the storms from land, Now find myself to the same fate exposed, Toss'd to and fro upon a sea of troubles! My boldness has been vanquish'd in a moment, And humbled is the pride wherein I boasted. For nearly six months past, ashamed, despairing, Bearing where'er I go the shaft that rends My heart, I struggle vainly to be free From you and from myself; I shun you, present; Absent, I find you near; I see your form In the dark forest depths; the shades of night, Nor less broad daylight, bring back to my view The charms that I avoid; all things conspire To make Hippolytus your slave. For fruit Of all my bootless sighs, I fail to find My former self. My bow and javelins Please me no more, my chariot is forgotten, With all the Sea God's lessons; and the woods Echo my groans instead of joyous shouts Urging my fiery steeds.
Hearing this tale Of passion so uncouth, you blush perchance At your own handiwork. With what wild words I offer you my heart, strange captive held By silken jess! But dearer in your eyes Should be the offering, that this language comes Strange to my lips; reject not vows express'd So ill, which but for you had ne'er been form'd.

SCENE III HIPPOLYTUS, ARICIA, THERAMENES, ISMENE
THERAMENES Prince, the Queen comes. I herald her approach. 'Tis you she seeks.
HIPPOLYTUS Me?
THERAMENES What her thought may be I know not. But I speak on her behalf. She would converse with you ere you go hence.
HIPPOLYTUS What shall I say to her? Can she expect--
ARICIA You cannot, noble Prince, refuse to hear her, Howe'er convinced she is your enemy, Some shade of pity to her tears is due.
HIPPOLYTUS Shall we part thus? and will you let me go, Not knowing if my boldness has offended The goddess I adore? Whether this heart, Left in your hands--
ARICIA Go, Prince, pursue the schemes Your generous soul dictates, make Athens own My sceptre. All the gifts you offer me Will I accept, but this high throne of empire Is not the one most precious in my sight.

SCENE IV HIPPOLYTUS, THERAMENES
HIPPOLYTUS Friend, is all ready? But the Queen approaches. Go, see the vessel in fit trim to sail. Haste, bid the crew aboard, and hoist the signal: Then soon return, and so deliver me From interview most irksome.

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 pronounced 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. Harassing suspicions Are common sequels of a second marriage. Of me would any