University of Virginia Library

Actus Secundi.

Scena Prima.

Nurse.
Nu.
No hope can salve this sore, nor wil that fire
Be ever quench'd which frenzy raizes higher
Although no crackling flame, although conceald
In her close brest, 'tis by her face reveal'd;
Her eies doe sparkle, and her shrunke cheeks flie
The light. Best pleased with variety
Is her divided soul; her body feels
The motion of her troubled sprite and reels.
Now her faint limbs a dying measure tread,
And scarce her weary neck sustains her head;
Now would she rest a while, but straight forbears
Forgotten sleep, and spends the night in teares:
She rises, and again is laid: Shee looses
Her scattered tresses, and again composes;
She varies habit, weary of her self,
And grows regardles both of food and health;
She languishingly goes, her strength decay'd
And from her cheeks the wither'd roses fade.
Care doth dissolve her joynts: a trembling pace
She holds, not near so comely as shee was.
And those same eyes, that testified her line
From Phœbus, nothing like her Grandsire shine.
Still are her cheeks with teares bedewed: so
A warm showr melteth the dilated snow
Upon the cliffs of Taurus; but behold
The Court is ope, where on a couch of gold
Leanes the inclined Lover, and her brain
Distemperd, doth her own attire disdain.

Ph.
Good maids these gold and purple garments bear
From hence, what should the Tyrian dye doe here?
Or wooll, which the trees mollified rind
Yeelds to the Sexes? a short Zone shall bind
My loins, for expedition girt; no load
Of pearl, on us by Indian Seas bestowd,
Shall lengthen out my cares, nor will I deck
With any Carkanet my widdowed neck.
No perfume my dishevel'd hair doth need,
Careless upon my neck and shoulders spread,
And by the wind displayed, my left shall bear
A quiver, and my right hand shake a spear.
Such was Hippolita, and as she guides
From frozen Tanais, and Mæotis sides
Her troops to Attick coasts, her hair collected
Into a knot, and then again rejected;
A Crescent shield gaurding her side, even so
Accoutred I, into the woods will goe.

Nu.

Scena Secunda.

Hippolitus. Nurse.
Hip.
Thy weary steps why hither bendest thou
With such a clouded face, & troubled brow,
Good Nurse? I hope my Father is not dead,
Nor Phædra, nor the pledges of their bed.

Nu.
Fear not, obsequious Fortune, on thy house,
Still waits, and still the land is prosperous.
But thou, mild as thy houses fate, to me,
Give ear, who 'm so sollicitous for thee;
Because thou thus afflictst thy self, whom fate
Makes wretched, we may wel comiserate;
But who court danger, and themselves abuse
With needless tortures, they deserve to loose
Those blessings which they knew not how to use.
Rather in pitty of thy yeers, thy mind
Release, and in a festive measure joyn'd,
Advance thy torch; in wine thy sorrows drown
Enjoy thy youth, which will be gone too soon.
Now apt for all Impressions is thy brest,
Venus to yong men, is a welcome guest.
Now glad thy soul: Why shouldst thou lye alone?
Solace thy youth, but too unpleasant grown:
Slacken the reins, wholly to riot bent.
Nor let thy better dayes be thus mispent.
The Gods draw out our lives by their degrees
Allotting them peculiar properties.
Cheerfull when yong, in age reserv'd. Why doth
A hard restraint thus kill thy toward youth?
A large encrease shall crown the husbands toil,
Whose seed is tightly fitted to his soil:
And all the trees are over-grown by those
Which still uncropt preserve their maiden boughs.
Good dispositions greatest praise doe merit
When nat'rall freedom guides a noble spirit.
Salvage, and ignorant, thou to a wife
Preferr'st a melancholy single life.
Dost thou thinke toil a priviledge? to ride
The fierie courser till he lose his pride,
Or try the bloudy issue of a field?
When the eternall providence beheld
So many enemies to life he made
Fresh off-springs to replenish the decay'd.
Go too. Let Venus of humane affaires
Dispose, who our diminish'd stock repairs;
Should but our youth be barren all thou sees,
After an ages standing vanishes.
Coverd'with rubbish, the uncultur'd land
Would lye, the sea unnavigated stand,
The empty forrest; beasts, air, birds would want,
The wind being the sole inhabitant.
How many casuall deaths on mankind wait,
Extinguish'd by the sea, the sword, deceit!
But say that these were wanting: yet to all
For to pursue their end is naturall.
Nature the guide of life, obey'd, frequent
The Citty then, and publike meetings haunt.

Hip.
There is no life more free, void of offence,
Or nearer to the pristine Innocence,
Than what is to the woods confind, who lives
With a clear Conscience on the mountains cliffs
Is not enflam'd with avarice, nor draws
The aire of seldome merited applause.
Is not with envy swell'd, nor kindnes blown,
Nor favorite, nor vassall to a crown.
He covets not vain honours, nor th' uncertain tide
Of wealth, not hope and fear doe him divide
Him scarce the poisonous tooth of malice wounds
Nor doth he know the usuall crimes of towns,
And great concourses, feares not every noise
Like guilty persons, nor inventeth lies;
A thousand Columes don't his roof uphold,
Nor are his rafters fastened with gold.
His Altars doe not flow with streams of blood,
Nor, with the sacred meal, their foreheads strew'd,
A Hecatombe of white oxen expects
The stroak of death, and bow their hundred necks.
But he the countrey doth enjoy, endu'd
With a most sweet and pleasing solitude.
Harmless he wanders through the open air,
Nor can he any thing but beasts ensnare.
And, when with labour faint, his weary limbs
Refreshes with Ilissos Chrystall streams.
Now he on bankes of swift Alpheus lyes,
Now thickest coverts of the wood descries,
(Where cool Lerna through her transparent spring
Shews her clear bottome,) ever wandering.
Here birds complain, there th'ancient Beech receive
Some gentle wind, and shakes her tremblng leaves
Strech'd on a winding shore he loves to take
A nap, and the bare turfe his bed doth make;
Whither a fountain falls in scatter'd showers,
Or flying streams salute the new-born flowers
With murm'ring courtship: Wildings are his food,
And strawb'ries gather'd from the underwood.
Meats quickly cooked, he delights to fly
Far from the Courts excessive luxurie,
Let the ambitious drinke in golden cups.
With what a gust he the pure fountain sups
From his convexed palm; and sleep more sound
Securely laid on the obdurate ground.
He lewdly seeks not a retired bed,
Nor in close corners hides his fearfull head:
But he doth the fresh air, and light enjoy,
And that he liveth, Heaven can testifie.
I verily beleeve those Heroes did
Live thus whom after ages Deifi'd.
They had no thirst of gold, no sacred stones
Did limit their unknown possessions.
Bold ships plough'd not the deep, to forreign shores;
But kept to their own seas, no lofty towres
And ample bulwarks did the city fence,
In armes an universall ignorance.
No engines forc'd the gates, no oxen plough'd
The earth; she wore no badge of servitude,
Flelds fruitfull of themselves suffic'd to feed
A sparing people that did little need.
Woods native riches, and some shadie cave
To them unartificiall lodgings gave.
First headstrong wrath, a furious love of gain,
And lust, which in enflamed minds doth reign,
Broke this integrity, then did there come
A bloody thirst of Empire in the room.
Great men did prey upon the less, and might
Was chosen arbitrator unto right.
Then with bare hands they fought: untrimed boughs
And stones were the first weapons they did use.
The cornell was not shod with ir'n, nor ty'd
The souldier a long sword unto his side,
Nor horses manes crested their helmes; but vext
With smart they took the weapons that were next.
Dire Mars invented war-like stratagems,
And thousand forms of death, hence purple streams
Defil'd each land: bloud dy'd the blushing mane
Then endles crimes in ev'ry house did reign:
No sin but grew a President; the child,
His Father, Brothers have their Brothers kill'd,
Women their Husbands, wicked Mothers slew
Their infant births. What then did Step-dames doe
Nothing indeed's more mild than beasts, but this
Woman, sins ringleader and Artifice
Besets our souls, how many Cities are
Fir'd by her Incests, lands ingag'd in war,
And peoples by the ruin'd weight opprest
Of their own Countries? not to name the rest:
Medea speaketh the sexe cruell.

Nu.
Why.
Condemn'st thou all for ones Impiety.

Hip.
I flie, abhor, curse all. Whether it from
Reason, or nature, or meer frenzy come:
I love to hate them: Water shall abide
Sooner with fire: Vessels securely ride
In the devouring Syrtes; the bright day
Sooner shall rise from the Hesperian Sea,
And wolves be mild to kids, than this my mind
Admit a courteous thought of woman-kind.

Nu.
Love, the perverse oft tameth, and removes
All hatred this thy Mother Country proves.
Ev'n that fierce Nation did obey the will
Of Love, or thou hadst been ungotten still.

Hip.
In this respect I'm glad my Mothers dead,
Because my hate is now unlimited.
As a fix'd rock on every side, in vain
Assail'd by waves, doth beat them back again;
So he despises what I say: but see
Where the impatient lover comes (ah me)
What Fate attends her? whither falleth shee?
Upon the earth her body breathless lyes,
And death-like paleness doth benight her eyes,
Madam look up, unloose your tongue, behold,
Hippolitusses arms do you enfold.

Scena Tertia.

Phædra.
Hippolitus. Nurse.
VVho calls me back to grief; my bosome fir'd
A new? how sweetly had I here expir'd?
But why refuse I life? courage my mind,
Try, execute what thou thy self injoyn'd.
Speak boldly, she, who fearfully doth crave,
Begs a deniall; my worst crime I have
Acted long since. Shame commeth now too late,
I've lov'd a sin, if in it fortunate,
A Husbands name may palliate the deed;
Those sins are oft thought honest, which succeed.
Go too, begin my soul. Sir, I a while desire
Your privacy: let all the rest retire.

Hip.
See here is none to interrupt us; speak.

Ph.
But my seal'd lips cannot the silence break.
Both urg'd to speech, and forced to be still.
I call you Gods to witness that my will.

Hip.
Can you not speak your mind.

Nu.
Great griefs are best
By silence, little ones by words exprest.

Hip.
Mother give me the burthen of your cares.

Ph.
The name of Mother to much distance bears.
An Humbler name becomes our Love. Call us
Thy sister, or thy maid, Hippolitus.
But rather maid. I the most slavish yoke
Will wear. Command it shall be undertook.
Ile clime the frozen Pindus through deep snows
Run through the fire, and armed troops; expose
My naked brest to naked swords, receive
This Scepter then, and let me be thy slave.
To rule becommeth thee, me to obey.
It ill becomes a womans arm to sway
So great a Nation, thou who 'rt in the pride
Of blooming youth, thy Fathers people guide.
Protect thy suppliant in thy bosome hid.
Take pitty on a widdow.

Hip.
Heaven forbid:
Madam my Father will come safely back:

Ph.
From Styx, and those insatiate realms no track
Doth lead to the forsaken light, shall he
Who came a ravisher, dismisled be?
'Lesse Plut'ol sit down a tame Cuckold too.

Hip.
Heavens far more equall power this will doe.
But while it yet rests in suspence, Ile please
My Brethren with all fitting offices
Protect Thee, that thou seem not widdowed: I
The absence of my Father, will supply.

Ph.
O credulous Lovers! O deceitfull Love!
Hath he not said enough? now prayers shall move.
O pitty; hear even my silence wooe.
I would, yet would not speak.

Hip.
What ailest thou?

Ph.
That which thou little thinks a step-dame should

Hip.
Speak plainly and thy doubtful words unfold.

Ph.
Why Love within my raging bosome fumes,
And with a cruel fire my reins consumes.
The flame which in my bowels hid remains
Thence shooteth up and down my melting veins,
As agile fire over dry timber spread.

Hip.
What with chast love of Theseus thou art mad?

Ph.
Thou art in the right: I love that ancient face
Which Theseus had when he a stripling was;
When first the down budding upon his chin
He saw the house the Minotaur was in,
And crooked mazes the long thred up wound.
How glorious then? his hair with fillets bound,
A dainty blush over his cheek was spread,
And his soft arms were the securest bed.
Like thy Diana, or my Phœbus then;
Or rather thee: thus, thus he looked, when
He pleas'd his foe; thus loftily did bear
His head, but thou art something hansomer;
Thou'st all thy fathers parts; and yet against
Reason some of thy Mothers too retain'st,
A Scythian rigour in a Græcian face;
Had'st thou come with thy Father in those dayes,
Then Ariadnes clew had sure been thine,
Thou, thou my Sister, wheresoere thou shine
In spangled skies, a cause so like thine own
Assist; one family hath both undone,
The Father thee, and me the Son, thou sees
A suppliant Princes fallen on her knees;
Free from aspersions, innocently good;
Chang'd but to thee; I'm sure none else have woo'd
This day to grief, or life an end shall bring,
Pitty a Lover.

Hip.
Thou Almighty King
Of Gods canst thou so mildly see, so mildly hear
Her wickednes? if now the Heavens be clear,
When wilt thou thunder? let the troubled air
Now run on heaps, and day a Vizard wear.
May the reversed Stars now backwards run.
And what dost thou, thou the irradiate Sun
Behold thy Grandchilds lusts? for shame lay by
Thy beams, and into utter darkness fly.
And why art thou idle Spectator turn'd
Great Jove, the world not yet with lightning burn'd,
Thunder at me; let thy quick flame consume
Me, I am wicked, and deserve the doom.
I've pleas'd my Step-dame, merit I to be
Incestuous thought? for this Impiety.
Seem'd I most fit? deserves my strictness this?
O Women excellent in wickedness!
O thou in thy unbounded lusts more wild
Than was thy Mother! Shee only defil'd
Her self, yet was the wicked theft betray'd
By the Prodigious issue which shee had;
The doubtfull birth witness'd his Mothers shame
With his fierce look, from the same womb thou came
Thrice happy are they in their prosp'rous fate
Who are by fraud consum'd, destroid by hate;
Father I envie thee: this sin, this sin,
Is greater then Medeas could have been.

Ph.
I know our houses Fate; I crave, I know
What is forbid, but cannot help it tho,
Thee thorough flames, o're rocks; the foaming deep,
And heady torrents company I'le keep.
Where ere thou goes, there frantick I will be,
Behold coy youth, again I kneel to thee.

Hi.
Keep of, and touch not my chast lims, what now
Immodest wretch, wilt thou imbrace me too?
Then shall my sword due vengeance take; my hand
Wreath'd in her hair, her shameless neck doth bend.
Bow-bearing Goddess, never bloud with more
Justice was on thy Altars spilt before.

Ph.
Why now Hippolitus, I have my wish:
Thou curst my frenzy; 'bove my hope was this,
To perish by thy hand, and chast.

Hip.
Avaunt,
And live; least any thing to thee I graunt,
Nor shall this steel, by thee polluted, ere
Defile my chaster side by hanging there.
What Tanais, what Mæotis, which doth pay
His waters tribute to the Pontick sea
Can wash me clean? not all great Neptunes flouds
Can expiate this crime. O Beasts! O Woods!

Nu.

Exeunt.
CHORUS.