University of Virginia Library

Scene 1:

Temple of Venus. Priest and Leton.
Leton.
Remove these entrails. By my art, I see
One great in rank comes hither: give me leave
To deal with her.

Priest.
The sacrifice is mine
To offer for the rest, I give you way.
I love the incense, and the prayer that soars
Upon its cloudy wings; when victims bleed
The pitying gods are present to my sense,
That with mild foreheads contemplate the rite,
Remitting deadly penalties to man.
But you have other thoughts, have wit and words
To snare the secrets of men's hearts, and bind
Their thoughtless steps with bonds of vigilance.

Leton.
Thou know'st my cunning doth enrich the shrine
More than thy virtue; thou dost watch the gods,
While I watch men; thou wait'st for miracles,
And I have done them, ere thou look'st again.
But hist! the supplicants are at hand. Stay thou!
I will not yet appear. [Withdraws behind the altar. Enter Phaedra closely veiled and Oenone, L.]


Priest.
[Greeting them]
Have welcome here.

Phaed.
[To Oenone]
Do thou bestow the offerings with the priest,
And give me room to vent my heart awhile.

Oenone.
Twelve sheep of faultless fleece my mistress gives,
A flock of doves, a chlamys, wrought with gems
And flexible gold, to honor Aphrodite.

Priest.
Such gifts betoken wealth and fervent worship.
Who's she that doth so instant need our helps?

Oenone.
One high in all deserving; ask no more.
The sheep stand bleating at the temple's porch.

[Exeunt Priest and Oenone, L.]
Phaed.
[Flinging herself at the feet of the statue of Aphrodite]
Goddess of love! thou source of all delight,
Source of all anguish; thou with joy and woe
Swayed in thy hand the might of Jove himself.
Hear me, a supplicant; see my queenly rank
Trailed in the dust before thee; my high heart
Poured out in weeping, and my frantic hands
Clasping thy vesture through these mortal pangs
That rend my bodily life in twain. O goddess,
Before whose power my soul lies motionless,
Smite with an equal blow the haughty breast
Of him I love, in sympathetic pain.
Move him to seek me; keep the heavens in pause
For one blest moment that shall make him mine.
Then, let the savage Furies work their will,
Who have in all their scourges no such pang
As unrequited love. Write down my vows!
Give me one hour to please Hippolytus,
Thereafter let me perish!

Leton.
Thou shalt please him.

Phaed.
[Shrieks]
Help, help, Oenone!

Leton.
Let one further word
Escape thy frantic lips, and thou art lost.
I am the help that Aphrodite sends.
Past prayer and hoping; while the moments press
Hear my quick counsel: woo with smiles and favours,
Not with that frowning brow of grief. What man
Would kiss thro' tears, or to his bosom press
A form convulsed as thine in agony?
Let fair adornment set thy beauty forth,
Untimely withering; let a feast be spread,
And bid him, thoughtless, to its secrecy.
Once there, thou know'st how wines intoxicate,
How flowers and odors bind the subtle sense;
Watch but the moment, at thy feet he lies
To rise no more but shorn and love-enthralled.
Dost thou hear me?

Phaed.
Slowly thy words pierce through
The veil of madness that o'erhangs my thoughts;
But dost thou know me, that thy hardy tongue
Bids a king's daughter stoop to arts like these?

Leton.
Have not the pangs that thou bewailest taught thee
King's daughters are but women in Love's sight?

Phaed.
This have I learned in such humility
As shames the distant glories of my birth.
[More confidentially]
But he I pine for is so virgin cold
No woman's heart can snare, nor beauty move him.
Ev'n could I win him to a moment's speech,
He would but look on me in wonderment;
I could not touch him with my burning heart,
Nor he, with icy calmness, quench its flame.

Leton.
Then let me give his life into thine hand.
I have a philter an Egyptian priest
Sold dearly to my asking—not Medea
Has such a potion. In this shining drop, Showing phial

As in a star, doth love's sweet madness hang.
This mingle in a cup of choicest wine,
And watch its working. Does he taste the draught,
Thy heart's desire is thine. Wilt thou pay its price?

Phaed.
[Gives her ornaments]
Take these twin jewels, and this heavy chain,
This purple broidered mantle, clasped with gold;
And other gifts more excellent I'll send thee;
Take all I have, and give it.

Leton.
Thou must promise
That I shall counsel all thy future acts
In furtherance of this purpose.

Phaed.
This I promise.

Leton.
Have then thy wish! [Gives the phial and exit, L.]


Phaed.
Oh! joy too terrible
For words! Oenone, dear Oenone, help me.
[Oenone comes at her summons]
Lend but thy veil. [Envelopes herself in it]

From Aphrodite's shrine
Shall the king's daughter like a beggar go,
Stript of adornment, one whom love makes poor
To crown her with a glory of his own. [Exeunt]