Phaedra Part 3

ARICIA Will Hippolytus, Think you, prove kinder than his sire, make light My chains, and pity my misfortunes?

ISMENE Yes, I think so, Madam.

ARICIA Ah, you know him not Or you would never deem so hard a heart Can pity feel, or me alone except From the contempt in which he holds our s.e.x.

Has he not long avoided every spot Where we resort?

ISMENE I know what tales are told Of proud Hippolytus, but I have seen Him near you, and have watch'd with curious eye How one esteem'd so cold would bear himself.

Little did his behavior correspond With what I look'd for; in his face confusion Appear'd at your first glance, he could not turn His languid eyes away, but gazed on you.

Love is a word that may offend his pride, But what the tongue disowns, looks can betray.

ARICIA How eagerly my heart hears what you say, Tho' it may be delusion, dear Ismene!

Did it seem possible to you, who know me, That I, sad sport of a relentless Fate, Fed upon bitter tears by night and day, Could ever taste the maddening draught of love?

The last frail offspring of a royal race, Children of Earth, I only have survived War's fury. Cut off in the flow'r of youth, Mown by the sword, six brothers have I lost, The hope of an ill.u.s.trious house, whose blood Earth drank with sorrow, near akin to his Whom she herself produced. Since then, you know How thro' all Greece no heart has been allow'd To sigh for me, lest by a sister's flame The brothers' ashes be perchance rekindled.

You know, besides, with what disdain I view'd My conqueror's suspicions and precautions, And how, oppos'd as I have ever been To love, I often thank'd the King's injustice Which happily confirm'd my inclination.

But then I never had beheld his son.

Not that, attracted merely by the eye, I love him for his beauty and his grace, Endowments which he owes to Nature's bounty, Charms which he seems to know not or to scorn.

I love and prize in him riches more rare, The virtues of his sire, without his faults.

I love, as I must own, that generous pride Which ne'er has stoop'd beneath the amorous yoke.

Phaedra reaps little glory from a lover So lavish of his sighs; I am too proud To share devotion with a thousand others, Or enter where the door is always open.

But to make one who ne'er has stoop'd before Bend his proud neck, to pierce a heart of stone, To bind a captive whom his chains astonish, Who vainly 'gainst a pleasing yoke rebels,-- That piques my ardour, and I long for that.

'Twas easier to disarm the G.o.d of strength Than this Hippolytus, for Hercules Yielded so often to the eyes of beauty, As to make triumph cheap. But, dear Ismene, I take too little heed of opposition Beyond my pow'r to quell, and you may hear me, Humbled by sore defeat, upbraid the pride I now admire. What! Can he love? and I Have had the happiness to bend--

ISMENE He comes Yourself shall hear him.

SCENE II HIPPOLYTUS, ARICIA, ISMENE

HIPPOLYTUS Lady, ere I go My duty bids me tell you of your change Of fortune. My worst fears are realized; My sire is dead. Yes, his protracted absence Was caused as I foreboded. Death alone, Ending his toils, could keep him from the world Conceal'd so long. The G.o.ds at last have doom'd Alcides' friend, companion, and successor.

I think your hatred, tender to his virtues, Can hear such terms of praise without resentment, Knowing them due. One hope have I that soothes My sorrow: I can free you from restraint.

Lo, I revoke the laws whose rigour moved My pity; you are at your own disposal, Both heart and hand; here, in my heritage, In Troezen, where my grandsire Pittheus reign'd Of yore and I am now acknowledged King, I leave you free, free as myself,--and more.

ARICIA Your kindness is too great, 'tis overwhelming.

Such generosity, that pays disgrace With honour, lends more force than you can think To those harsh laws from which you would release me.

HIPPOLYTUS Athens, uncertain how to fill the throne Of Theseus, speaks of you, anon of me, And then of Phaedra's son.

ARICIA Of me, my lord?

HIPPOLYTUS I know myself excluded by strict law: Greece turns to my reproach a foreign mother.

But if my brother were my only rival, My rights prevail o'er his clearly enough To make me careless of the law's caprice.

My forwardness is check'd by juster claims: To you I yield my place, or, rather, own That it is yours by right, and yours the sceptre, As handed down from Earth's great son, Erechtheus.

Adoption placed it in the hands of Aegeus: Athens, by him protected and increased, Welcomed a king so generous as my sire, And left your hapless brothers in oblivion.

Now she invites you back within her walls; Protracted strife has cost her groans enough, Her fields are glutted with your kinsmen's blood Fatt'ning the furrows out of which it sprung At first. I rule this Troezen; while the son Of Phaedra has in Crete a rich domain.

Athens is yours. I will do all I can To join for you the votes divided now Between us.

ARICIA Stunn'd at all I hear, my lord, I fear, I almost fear a dream deceives me.

Am I indeed awake? Can I believe Such generosity? What G.o.d has put it Into your heart? Well is the fame deserved That you enjoy! That fame falls short of truth!

Would you for me prove traitor to 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 pa.s.sion. 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 compa.s.sion 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 G.o.d's lessons; and the woods Echo my groans instead of joyous shouts Urging my fiery steeds.

Hearing this tale Of pa.s.sion 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, n.o.ble 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 G.o.ddess 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.