_Men_
Surely the thought of the Gods hath balm in it alway, to win me
Far from my griefs; and a thought, deep in the dark of my mind,
Clings to a great Understanding. Yet all the spirit within me
Faints, when I watch men's deeds matched with the guerdon they find.
For Good comes in Evil's traces,
And the Evil the Good replaces;
And Life, 'mid the changing faces,
Wandereth weak and blind.
_Women_
What wilt thou grant me, O God? Lo, this is the prayer of my travail--
Some well-being; and chance not very bitter thereby;
Spirit uncrippled by pain; and a mind not deep to unravel
Truth unseen, nor yet dark with the brand of a lie.
With a veering mood to borrow
Its light from every morrow,
Fair friends and no deep sorrow,
Well could man live and die!
_Men_
Yet my spirit is no more clean,
And the weft of my hope is torn,
For the deed of wrong that mine eyes have seen,
The lie and the rage and the scorn;
A Star among men, yea, a Star
That in Hellas was bright,
By a Father's wrath driven far
To the wilds and the night.
Oh, alas for the sands of the shore!
Alas for the brakes of the hill,
Where the wolves shall fear thee no more,
And thy cry to Dictynna is still!
_Women_
No more in the yoke of thy car
Shall the colts of Enetia fleet;
Nor Limna's echoes quiver afar
To the clatter of galloping feet.
The sleepless music of old,
That leaped in the lyre,
Ceaseth now, and is cold,
In the halls of thy sire.
The bowers are discrowned and unladen
Where Artemis lay on the lea;
And the love-dream of many a maiden
Lost, in the losing of thee.
_A Maiden_
And I, even I,
For thy fall, O Friend,
Amid tears and tears,
Endure to the end
Of the empty years,
Of a life run dry.
In vain didst thou bear him,
Thou Mother forlorn!
Ye Gods that did snare him,
Lo, I cast in your faces
My hate and my scorn!
Ye love-linkèd Graces,
(Alas for the day!)
Was he naught, then, to you,
That ye cast him away,
The stainless and true,
From the old happy places?
LEADER
Look yonder! 'Tis the Prince's man, I ween
Speeding toward this gate, most dark of mien.
[A HENCHMAN _enters in haste_.]
HENCHMAN
Ye women, whither shall I go to seek
King Theseus? Is he in this dwelling? Speak!
LEADER
Lo, where he cometh through the Castle gate!
[THESEUS _comes out from the Castle_.]
HENCHMAN
O King, I bear thee tidings of dire weight
To thee, aye, and to every man, I ween,
From Athens to the marches of Trozên.
THESEUS
What? Some new stroke hath touched, unknown to me,
The sister cities of my sovranty?
HENCHMAN
Hippolytus is...Nay, not dead; but stark
Outstretched, a hairsbreadth this side of the dark.
THESEUS (_as though unmoved_)
How slain? Was there some other man, whose wife
He had like mine denied, that sought his life?
HENCHMAN
His own wild team destroyed him, and the dire
Curse of thy lips.
The boon of thy great Sire
Is granted thee, O King, and thy son slain.
THESEUS
Ye Gods! And thou, Poseidon! Not in vain
I called thee Father; thou hast heard my prayer!
How did he die? Speak on. How closed the snare
Of Heaven to slay the shamer of my blood?
HENCHMAN
'Twas by the bank of beating sea we stood,
We thralls, and decked the steeds, and combed each mane;
Weeping; for word had come that ne'er again
The foot of our Hippolytus should roam
This land, but waste in exile by thy doom.
So stood we till he came, and in his tone
No music now save sorrow's, like our own,
And in his train a concourse without end
Of many a chase-fellow and many a friend.
At last he brushed his sobs away, and spake:
"Why this fond loitering? I would not break
My Father's law--Ho, there! My coursers four
And chariot, quick! This land is mine no more."
Thereat, be sure, each man of us made speed.
Swifter than speech we brought them up, each steed
Well dight and shining, at our Prince's side.
He grasped the reins upon the rail: one stride
And there he stood, a perfect charioteer,
Each foot in its own station set. Then clear
His voice rose, and his arms to heaven were spread:
"O Zeus, if I be false, strike thou me dead!
But, dead or living, let my Father see
One day, how falsely he hath hated me!"
Even as he spake, he lifted up the goad
And smote; and the steeds sprang. And down the road
We henchmen followed, hard beside the rein,
Each hand, to speed him, toward the Argive plain
And Epidaurus.
So we made our way
Up toward the desert region, where the bay
Curls to a promontory near the verge
Of our Trozên, facing the southward surge
Of Saron's gulf. Just there an angry sound,
Slow-swelling, like God's thunder underground
Broke on us, and we trembled. And the steeds
Pricked their ears skyward, and threw back their heads.
And wonder came on all men, and affright,
Whence rose that awful voice. And swift our sight
Turned seaward, down the salt and roaring sand.
And there, above the horizon, seemed to stand
A wave unearthly, crested in the sky;
Till Skiron's Cape first vanished from mine eye,
Then sank the Isthmus hidden, then the rock
Of Epidaurus. Then it broke, one shock
And roar of gasping sea and spray flung far,
And shoreward swept, where stood the Prince's car.
Three lines of wave together raced, and, full
In the white crest of them, a wild Sea-Bull
Flung to the shore, a fell and marvellous Thing.
The whole land held his voice, and answering
Roared in each echo. And all we, gazing there,
Gazed seeing not; 'twas more than eyes could bear.
Then straight upon the team wild terror fell.
Howbeit, the Prince, cool-eyed and knowing well
Each changing mood a horse has, gripped the reins
Hard in both hands; then as an oarsman strains
Up from his bench, so strained he on the thong,
Back in the chariot swinging. But the young
Wild steeds bit hard the curb, and fled afar;
Nor rein nor guiding hand nor morticed car
Stayed them at all. For when he veered them round,
And aimed their flying feet to grassy ground,
In front uprose that Thing, and turned again
The four great coursers, terror-mad. But when
Their blind rage drove them toward the rocky places,
Silent and ever nearer to the traces,
It followed rockward, till one wheel-edge grazed.
The chariot tript and flew, and all was mazed
In turmoil. Up went wheel-box with a din,
Where the rock jagged, and nave and axle-pin.
And there--the long reins round him--there was he
Dragging, entangled irretrievably.
A dear head battering at the chariot side,
Sharp rocks, and rippled flesh, and a voice that cried:
"Stay, stay, O ye who fattened at my stalls,
Dash me not into nothing!--O thou false
Curse of my Father!--Help! Help, whoso can,
An innocent, innocent and stainless man!"
Many there were that laboured then, I wot,
To bear him succour, but could reach him not,
Till--who knows how?--at last the tangled rein
Unclasped him, and he fell, some little vein
Of life still pulsing in him.
All beside,
The steeds, the hornèd Horror of the Tide,
Had vanished--who knows where?--in that wild land.
O King, I am a bondsman of thine hand;
Yet love nor fear nor duty me shall win
To say thine innocent son hath died in sin.
All women born may hang themselves, for me,
And swing their dying words from every tree
On Ida! For I know that he was true!
LEADER
O God, so cometh new disaster, new
Despair! And no escape from what must be!
THESEUS
Hate of the man thus stricken lifted me
At first to joy at hearing of thy tale;
But now, some shame before the Gods, some pale
Pity for mine own blood, hath o'er me come.
I laugh not, neither weep, at this fell doom.
HENCHMAN
How then? Behoves it bear him here, or how
Best do thy pleasure?--Speak, Lord. Yet if thou
Wilt mark at all my word, thou wilt not be
Fierce-hearted to thy child in misery.
THESEUS
Aye, bring him hither. Let me see the face
Of him who durst deny my deep disgrace
And his own sin; yea, speak with him, and prove
His clear guilt by God's judgments from above.
[_The_ HENCHMAN _departs to fetch_ HIPPOLYTUS; THESEUS _sits waiting in
stern gloom, while the_ CHORUS _sing. At the close of their song a
Divine Figure is seen approaching on a cloud in the air and the voice
of_ ARTEMIS _speaks_.]
CHORUS
Thou comest to bend the pride
Of the hearts of God and man,
Cypris; and by thy side,
In earth-encircling span,
He of the changing plumes,
The Wing that the world illumes,
As over the leagues of land flies he,
Over the salt and sounding sea.
For mad is the heart of Love,
And gold the gleam of his wing;
And all to the spell thereof
Bend, when he makes his spring;
All life that is wild and young
In mountain and wave and stream,
All that of earth is sprung,
Or breathes in the red sunbeam;
Yea, and Mankind. O'er all a royal throne,
Cyprian, Cyprian, is thine alone!
A VOICE FROM THE CLOUD
O thou that rulest in Aegeus' Hall,
I charge thee, hearken!
Yea, it is I,
Artemis, Virgin of God most High.
Thou bitter King, art thou glad withal
For thy murdered son?
For thine ear bent low to a lying Queen,
For thine heart so swift amid things unseen?
Lo, all may see what end thou hast won!
Go, sink thine head in the waste abyss;
Or aloft to another world than this,
Birdwise with wings,
Fly far to thine hiding,
Far over this blood that clots and clings;
For in righteous men and in holy things
No rest is thine nor abiding!
[_The cloud has become stationary in the air._]
Hear, Theseus, all the story of thy grief!
Verily, I bring but anguish, not relief;
Yet, 'twas for this I came, to show how high
And clean was thy son's heart, that he may die
Honoured of men; aye, and to tell no less
The frenzy, or in some sort the nobleness,
Of thy dead wife. One Spirit there is, whom we
That know the joy of white virginity,
Most hate in heaven. She sent her fire to run
In Phaedra's veins, so that she loved thy son.
Yet strove she long with love, and in the stress
Fell not, till by her Nurse's craftiness
Betrayed, who stole, with oaths of secrecy,
To entreat thy son. And he, most righteously,
Nor did her will, nor, when thy railing scorn
Beat on him, broke the oath that he had sworn,
For God's sake. And thy Phaedra, panic-eyed,
Wrote a false writ, and slew thy son, and died,
Lying; but thou wast nimble to believe!
[THESEUS, _at first bewildered, then dumfounded,
now utters a deep groan._]
It stings thee, Theseus?--Nay, hear on and grieve
Yet sorer. Wottest thou three prayers were thine
Of sure fulfilment, from thy Sire divine?
Hast thou no foes about thee, then, that one--
Thou vile King!--must be turned against thy son?
The deed was thine. Thy Sea-born Sire but heard
The call of prayer, and bowed him to his word.
But thou in his eyes and in mine art found
Evil, who wouldst not think, nor probe, nor sound
The deeps of prophet's lore, nor day by day
Leave Time to search; but swifter than man may,
Let loose the curse to slay thine innocent son!
THESEUS
O Goddess, let me die!
ARTEMIS
Nay; thou hast done
A heavy wrong; yet even beyond this ill
Abides for thee forgiveness. 'Twas the will
Of Cypris that these evil things should be,
Sating her wrath. And this immutably
Hath Zeus ordained in heaven: no God may thwart
A God's fixed will; we grieve but stand apart.
Else, but for fear of the Great Father's blame,
Never had I to such extreme of shame
Bowed me, be sure, as here to stand and see
Slain him I loved best of mortality!
Thy fault, O King, its ignorance sunders wide
From very wickedness; and she who died
By death the more disarmed thee, making dumb
The voice of question. And the storm has come
Most bitterly of all on thee! Yet I
Have mine own sorrow, too. When good men die,
There is no joy in heaven, albeit our ire
On child and house of the evil falls like fire.
[_A throng is seen approaching;_ HIPPOLYTUS _enters,
supported by his attendants._]
CHORUS
Lo, it is he! The bright young head
Yet upright there!
Ah the torn flesh and the blood-stained hair;
Alas for the kindred's trouble!
It falls as fire from a God's hand sped,
Two deaths, and mourning double.
HIPPOLYTUS
Ah, pain, pain, pain!
O unrighteous curse! O unrighteous sire!
No hope.--My head is stabbed with fire,
And a leaping spasm about my brain.
Stay, let me rest. I can no more.
O fell, fell steeds that my own hand fed,
Have ye maimed me and slain, that loved me of yore?
--Soft there, ye thralls! No trembling hands
As ye lift me, now!--Who is that that stands
At the right?--Now firm, and with measured tread,
Lift one accursèd and stricken sore
By a father's sinning.
Thou, Zeus, dost see me? Yea, it is I;
The proud and pure, the server of God,
The white and shining in sanctity!
To a visible death, to an open sod,
I walk my ways;
And all the labour of saintly days
Lost, lost, without meaning!
Ah God, it crawls
This agony, over me!
Let be, ye thralls!
Come, Death, and cover me:
Come, O thou Healer blest!
But a little more,
And my soul is clear,
And the anguish o'er!
Oh, a spear, a spear!
To rend my soul to its rest!
Oh, strange, false Curse! Was there some blood-stained head,
Some father of my line, unpunishèd,
Whose guilt lived in his kin,
And passed, and slept, till after this long day
It lights... Oh, why on me? Me, far away
And innocent of sin?
O words that cannot save!
When will this breathing end in that last deep
Pain that is painlessness? 'Tis sleep I crave.
When wilt thou bring me sleep,
Thou dark and midnight magic of the grave!
ARTEMIS
Sore-stricken man, bethink thee in this stress,
Thou dost but die for thine own nobleness.
HIPPOLYTUS
Ah!
O breath of heavenly fragrance! Though my pain
Burns, I can feel thee and find rest again.
The Goddess Artemis is with me here.
ARTEMIS
With thee and loving thee, poor sufferer!
HIPPOLYTUS
Dost see me, Mistress, nearing my last sleep?
ARTEMIS
Aye, and would weep for thee, if Gods could weep.
HIPPOLYTUS
Who now shall hunt with thee or hold thy quiver?
ARTEMIS
He dies but my love cleaves to him for ever.
HIPPOLYTUS
Who guide thy chariot, keep thy shrine-flowers fresh?
ARTEMIS
The accursed Cyprian caught him in her mesh!
HIPPOLYTUS
The Cyprian? Now I see it!--Aye, 'twas she.
ARTEMIS
She missed her worship, loathed thy chastity!
HIPPOLYTUS
Three lives by her one hand! 'Tis all clear now.
ARTEMIS
Yea, three; thy father and his Queen and thou.
HIPPOLYTUS
My father; yea, he too is pitiable!
ARTEMIS
A plotting Goddess tripped him, and he fell.
HIPPOLYTUS
Father, where art thou? ... Oh, thou sufferest sore!
THESEUS
Even unto death, child. There is joy no more.
HIPPOLYTUS
I pity thee in this coil; aye, more than me.
THESEUS
Would I could lie there dead instead of thee!
HIPPOLYTUS
Oh, bitter bounty of Poseidon's love!
THESEUS
Would God my lips had never breathed thereof!
HIPPOLYTUS (_gently_)
Nay, thine own rage had slain me then, some wise!
THESEUS
A lying spirit had made blind mine eyes!
HIPPOLYTUS
Ah me!
Would that a mortal's curse could reach to God!
ARTEMIS
Let be! For not, though deep beneath the sod
Thou liest, not unrequited nor unsung
Shall this fell stroke, from Cypris' rancour sprung,
Quell thee, mine own, the saintly and the true!
My hand shall win its vengeance through and through,
Piercing with flawless shaft what heart soe'er
Of all men living is most dear to Her.
Yea, and to thee, for this sore travail's sake,
Honours most high in Trozên will I make;
For yokeless maids before their bridal night
Shall shear for thee their tresses; and a rite
Of honouring tears be thine in ceaseless store;
And virgin's thoughts in music evermore
Turn toward thee, and praise thee in the Song
Of Phaedra's far-famed love and thy great wrong.
O seed of ancient Aegeus, bend thee now
And clasp thy son. Aye, hold and fear not thou!
Not knowingly hast thou slain him; and man's way,
When Gods send error, needs must fall astray.
And thou, Hippolytus, shrink not from the King,
Thy father. Thou wast born to bear this thing.
Farewell! I may not watch man's fleeting breath,
Nor strain mine eyes with the effluence of death.
And sure that Terror now is very near.
[_The cloud slowly rises and floats away_.]
HIPPOLYTUS
Farewell, farewell, most Blessèd! Lift thee clear
Of soiling men! Thou wilt not grieve in heaven
For my long love! ...Father, thou art forgiven.
It was Her will. I am not wroth with thee...
I have obeyed Her all my days! ...
Ah me,
The dark is drawing down upon mine eyes;
It hath me! ... Father! ... Hold me! Help me rise!
THESEUS (_supporting him in his arms_)
Ah, woe! How dost thou torture me, my son!
HIPPOLYTUS
I see the Great Gates opening. I am gone.
THESEUS
Gone? And my hand red-reeking from this thing!
HIPPOLYTUS
Nay, nay; thou art assoiled of manslaying.
THESEUS
Thou leav'st me clear of murder? Sayst thou so?
HIPPOLYTUS
Yea, by the Virgin of the Stainless Bow!
THESEUS
Dear Son! Ah, now I see thy nobleness!
HIPPOLYTUS
Pray that a true-born child may fill my place.
THESEUS
Ah me, thy righteous and god-fearing heart!
HIPPOLYTUS
Farewell;
A long farewell, dear Father, ere we part!
[THESEUS _bends down and embraces him passionately_.]
THESEUS
Not yet!--O hope and bear while thou hast breath!
HIPPOLYTUS
Lo, I have borne my burden. This is death...
Quick, Father; lay the mantle on my face.
[THESEUS _covers his face with a mantle and rises._]
THESEUS
Ye bounds of Pallas and of Pelops' race,
What greatness have ye lost!
Woe, woe is me!
Thou Cyprian, long shall I remember thee!
CHORUS
On all this folk, both low and high,
A grief hath fallen beyond men's fears.
There cometh a throbbing of many tears,
A sound as of waters falling.
For when great men die,
A mighty name and a bitter cry
Rise up from a nation calling.
[_They move into the Castle, carrying the body of_ HIPPOLYTUS.]