University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

Scene 1:

Palace in 3.G.
Phaed.
[Discovered]
He has sealed my lips to silence, but my thoughts
Clamour so wildly at the gates of speech
That all my brain is mad with hearing them.
How can I hide what all around me knows,
How bind the sibilant air to secrecy?
The very serpent at my breast would hiss
His knowledge out, with every breath I drew,
Did I forget to hold him, thus, thus, thus.
[Pressing her hand on her lips]
He's gone to death, they say, to bloody death.
What then? Why, every limb of mine is struck
With palsy, that I cannot follow him
Whom I must follow, for he beckons me.
Shall we go down together, thou and I
To Erebus, with evermore thine eyes
Resting so dead on mine? If I could speak
'Twere well for both, but thou permitt'st it not,
And from these circling flames that gird me round,
Opens no backward way. Help, help, I say!
I am alone with something that I fear!

[Enter Oenone and Leton]
Oenone.
How now, dear lady?

Phaed.
Did I summon you?
I will not have you in my company.

Oenone.
I am your faithful nurse.

Phaed.
Begone, I say,
Who was't that led to Aphrodite's shrine?
You see I know you, tho' I love you not.
Hence, let thy vileness perish from the earth!

Oenone.
[To Leton]
What here avails?

Leton.
Her senses are distraught.
Not thus in Theseus' presence must she come,
Or all is lost. Madam, you know my voice:
I was your guide, your friend, when others failed.

Phaed.
You were my servant when I hired you—
There's gold at will—you sell your soul for gold,
[Flings a purse]
But I gave mine for fire, for burning fire
The death damps will not quench.

Leton.
Forbear awhile,
Till healthful slumber recreate your brain,
And the vague horrors that oppress you now
Show like a dream in distance.

Phaed.
None of that.
Think you I'll sleep, that horrid ghosts may come,
And breathless vengeance seize me unawares?
No—I'll not sleep. Infest my sight no more!
Yet here's a thought. [Disengages her dagger]


Oenone.
Great heavens! what will she do?

Phaed.
[With weight, looking at the dagger]
He said, keep silence ever—this is silence.

Oenone.
Have pity on thy youth.

Leton.
Hold back her hand
Thus, while I wrest the dagger from its grasp.

[A struggle ensues, Leton disarms her]
Oenone.
Sweet mistress, come with us.

Phaed.
[Breaking for them]
Keep off your hands,
I am the daughter of a race of kings,
And crownèd death comes kingly forth to meet me:
See, I have made thee rich before thy time,
And thou mayst welcome whom the sick earth spurns
From her upheaving bosom.

Leton.
You must come.

Phaed.
He said, keep silence ever.

Oenone.
Theseus comes!

Leton.
Haste! Must we drag you from your husband's sight?

[Enter Theseus]
Phaed.
[Makes a movement towards him]
Theseus! [Shuddering back]

Nay, silence, silence was the word,
And thus I keep it. [She strangles herself with her scarf]


Oenone.
[Springing forward]
Shall she die before us?

Leton.
[Detaining her]
'Tis safer thus, than that her madness speak.

Thes.
What do I see?

Oenone.
[Bending over her]
Alas, alas! She's dead
By her own hand!

Thes.
How dead? This cannot be.
Gather what help you may, alarm the house,
Speak to me, Phaedra!

Leton.
She will speak no more.
Self-strangled here she lies.

Oenone.
My child, my child!
I brought thee from thy happy land of birth,
And dost thou thus to mother's arms return?
Oh! Woe upon this day!

Thes.
Restrain awhile
Your woman's wailing—give my words reply.
How came she to this end? By what sharp grief
Or sudden frenzy? Ye are silent both.
Deliver me the truth of that I see
Or ere the torture make you eloquent.

Leton.
My lord, these visitations mock our power
And knowledge—the possession of the gods
Nor medicine can assuage, nor wisdom charm.

Thes.
Fools, ye deceive me—will ye dare contend
With Theseus? Was it never known to you
That the supernals are with him in league,
And that the clouds of Heaven attend his wrath,
To crush the thing he hates? Who art thou, slave!

Leton.
The soothsayer of Aphrodite's shrine.

Thes.
Thou serv'st thy goddess false! Ho! [Enter Soldiers]

Bind me these.

Oenone.
Oh! Think not I'll betray thee, nor impart
Thy dear concernment to the shallow air,
But as the rooted mandrake shrinks and bleeds,
Frighting the hand that pluck it, so shall I
Utter mine own sole anguish in my breath,
And keep thy secret perfect unto death.

Thes.
Guards! Lead them hence! I follow all intent
To thread a dismal labyrinth of crime,
Without the succour of one loving heart. [Exeunt]

Scene 2:

Seacoast. Twilight before dawn. Chorus of the Winds, in long dark robes and hoods; they dance round and round, chanting these stanzas.
Left.
I know that doth please me well.

Right.
[Nodding]
So do I—so do I.

Left.
I know that I will not tell.

Right.
So do I—so do I.

One.
Wrath and wrong and scorn and hate,
Wefted in one web of Fate,
I know that shall plague the State.

All.
Ay, that know we all!
[Second stanza, etc., in the same way]
Hooded messengers of ill,
Here we go, here we go,
Working more than mortal will,
Working woe, working woe,
He who called us from the main,
Glad would yield his right to reign,
Could he send us back again.

All.
That he cannot do.

3RD.
Fool to speak the hasty word,
We obey, we obey,
Bringing judgment undeferred,
Have thy way, have thy way:
Firmer than your turrets are,
Fate doth fix the frantic prayer,
For the Deities of Air
Never more unsay.

4TH.
Come, ye spirits of the deep,
Athens mourns, Athens mourns!
Rouse Poseidon from his sleep
With your melancholy horns!
Father! Thou a father hearest,
When he bids thee lose his dearest,
Nor the mortal's grief thou fearest,
That thy greatness scorns. [Enter Artemis]


Art.
Be still, ye wild and turbulent natures, still!
The work ye have to do is terrible,
Exult not to fulfill it.

All.
Dost thou weep?
A goddess weep?

Art.
Forbidden by my birth,
See, my grief's passion breaks Jove's ordinance,
And like a mortal, I must agonize,

One Spirit.
Venus hath done this!

Art.
By the will of Jove
She conquers, but th' avenging years draw nigh,
Unseen of her. Hark, spirits, in my woods
The boar lies suckling that shall pierce the thigh
Of young Adonis. I will vow such thorns
Among the roses on her painted brow,
That she shall shriek through all the dismal night,
And follow Death as wild Bacchantes dance
After the god that maddens them. But ye,
Go bind th' unseemly bosom of the deep
With the blue zone of calmness, while I stay
To sprinkle silver on the fatal sands,
And do my faithful office to the end.

Chorus.
[Divided as before]
One is mightier than thou,
Hist! We fly—hist! We fly,
But he loves thy moonèd brow,
Drawing nigh, drawing nigh.
Doom is fixed, our master saith,
Counted pulse, and measured breath,
But we'll keep the hush of death,
Till thy darling die. [They dance off]


Art.
I hear the springing footstep that respects
The lightest dewdrop on my virgin flowers.
Let me withdraw, and yet be near his words.

[She passes out of sight]

Scene 3:

The seashore, a chariot waiting in the background. View of the distant city. Enter Hippolytus.
Hipp.
My native Athens, let me see thee once
Ere I resign the dearest right of birth,
To call thee Mother! From thy fostering arms
Such falsehood hunts me, as the gracious earth
Should surge and quake beneath to let it through
Where it hath place, with pitchy flames of hell,
And foul-mouthed Furies. Where are ye, ye gods,
That I should suffer this which I must bear
For such necessity? I have been calm,
But at this step my vexed soul rises up,
Like some full wave, storm-swoll'n from yonder deep,
Which, rolling all its angry length along,
Breaks in the sight of Heav'n with one wild cry
That mocks at patience! Should I then endure
That shame sit throned upon my father's couch,
And point and gibber as I creep away,
Bearing its loathsome burden? 'Tis too much!
I'll speak, but oh, th' unutterable word,
The unimaginable crime—my lips,
Keep it till death! The stars that see me wronged
Must purge my memory, when their hour is come.

Art.
Hippolytus!

Hipp.
The huntress of the woods!
How cam'st thou hither?

Art.
For thy need I come.

Hipp.
Who'er thou art, approach not—he who waits
To guide this car is henceforth barred of men.
Dishonour hides his crest, and on his brow
Sits the black signal of a father's curse.

Art.
Am I of those whose sight goes not beyond
The flimsy armour of a woman's guile?
The curse unmerited dissolves for me—
I know your stepdame Phaedra, and her crime.

Hipp.
[With eagerness]
Oh! If you know it, never breathe it loud,
Nor whisper low, to tempt the elements.
If you so love me as your deed should show,
Following a fallen man, forget the thing
You spoke—this grace alone I ask of you.

Art.
When should the truth be known?

Hipp.
When mortal pain
Doth loose its hold on Theseus—when his shade,
Encountering mine, devoid of wrath or stain,
Shall see the thrilling sorrows of this life
But as the faultless working of the gods
To some high purpose.

Art.
Thou art perfect still,
In all thy temper. Leave these things to such
Whose office is to tend them—for thyself
I now entreat thee.

Hipp.
See, the dawn is full,
I must away.

Art.
A moment hear me first.
Thou know'st I dwell not in the ways of men,
But for mine own free pleasure haunt the woods,
Hunting the antlered stag—by Jove's high will
I live in holy cherished maidenhood,
But thou art dearer than the world to me.
Now, by the love I've borne thee, year for year,
Hippolytus, ride not beside the sea!

Hipp.
My father gave the road by which I go—
Maiden, farewell, that road leads by the sea.

Art.
[Detaining him]
One moment more—I have a fastness hid
From eyes of men, beyond yon mountain's peak,
Where at the purple sunset, oft thine eyes
Devout have lingered—thither, in a cloud,
Serene as sleep, I'll bear thy gentleness,
And hide thee, till the present danger pass.

Hipp.
Set the bird free, whose happy wings unblamed
May free him from the deadly wound and snare:
But I am forged as iron from the ore,
To meet the shock that waits me.

Art.
Listen yet—
Know'st thou Poseidon is thy father's friend,
Who, in wild anger, claimed a boon of him?

Hipp.
Then shall he have it!

Art.
If it were thy death!

Hipp.
Turn hence thine eyes that hold me, while I feel
My swift thoughts rushing to the brink of fate:
Ye elements, accomplish Theseus' will,
And as he prayed, revoking Nature's bond,
So let it be. [Exit, R.]


Art.
So must it be? Then go.
[She assumes a posture of intense attention]
How swiftly rolls his chariot on the sands!
Oh, bear him, trusty steeds, beyond this hour
Of dreadful promise—well you love his care,
His voice, his hand—be true and save his life!

[Enter an Amazon]
Amazon.
How suddenly the deep grows turbulent,
While still the clear day smiles!

Art.
Hist! Do you see
That chariot, flashing like a dart of steel
Hurled on the ocean highway? It is his.

Amazon.
Scared at the rushing of the brine, the steeds
Break from their steady pace.

Art.
He reins them well.

Amazon.
Still, they are froward.

Art.
Do not speak—mine eyes
Will have my soul all in them for this sight.
See you that gathering pyramid of foam
Heaped up before him? It has glaring eyes,
And monstrous features, that do belch forth flame
Across his path. Ah, gods! It hurls itself!

Amazon.
Help! Help! The horses lose the guiding hand—
The car is overturned and dashed to splints.
But where is he?

Art.
Where I must follow him.

[Exeunt in haste, R. Enter Theseus and followers, L.]
Thes.
Where is the prince? Let me not come too late,
Ye gods, and thou, Poseidon, stay thine hand!
I was the fool of curst deceit, but thou
In whose clear sight he stood, devoid of fault,
Wouldst thou destroy him, at my frantic prayer?
Then should the heavens betray the innocent,
And spread their pall to give the guilty cover.
No, he shall live, to comfort my sad years,
That take their date of sorrow from this day
Of dark revealing.

Follower.
Who are these that bear
A weight along, with wild and clouded eyes?

[Enter Artemis and others, bearing Hippolytus. Music]
Art.
Theseus, behold your son.

Thes.
Disfigured thus?

Art.
'Tis as you wished.

Thes.
Hell's curses on the tongue
That falsely did accuse thee—still, thou breathest?
Oh! live, that I may heal thy wounds with love,
And wipe outrageous slander from thy brow.

Art.
It cannot be.

Hipp.
Father, have ever peace!

Thes.
Canst thou forgive me thine untimely death?

Hipp.
Wouldst thou remember me in coming years,
Think only that I loved thee!

Thes.
Pitying gods,
Can nothing save him?

Hipp.
[With great effort]
Thou hast other children—
If thou wouldst doubt them, think that they
Are thine, and trust the virtue of thy godlike race.
I perish! [Sinking back]


Art.
Give thy last look to me,
Whom thy fair life did honour. I am she
That smiled from Heaven—the Goddess Artemis.

Hipp.
Father, 'tis she! [Dies]


Art.
In fair Elysian fields,
Dream without sorrow of the things that were—
Beneath thy shadowy steps shall lilies spring,
While the pure-hearted, fleeting ere their time,
Shall joy to take their virgin rest with thee. [Music]


CURTAIN