Part 3 (1/2)
NURSE Hippolytus, say'st thou?
PHAEDRA (_again wrapping her face in the veil_) Nay, 'twas thou, not I!
[PHAEDRA _sinks back on the couch and covers her face again.
The_ NURSE _starts violently from her and walks up and down._]
NURSE O G.o.d! what wilt thou say, Child? Wouldst thou try To kill me?--Oh, 'tis more than I can bear; Women. I will no more of it, this glare Of hated day, this s.h.i.+ning of the sky.
I will fling down my body, and let it lie Till life be gone!
Women, G.o.d rest with you, My works are over! For the pure and true Are forced to evil, against their own heart's vow, And love it!
[_She suddenly sees the Statue of_ CYPRIS, _and stands with her eyes riveted upon it._]
Ah, Cyprian! No G.o.d art thou, But more than G.o.d, and greater, that hath thrust Me and my queen and all our house to dust!
[_She throws herself on the ground close to the statue._]
CHORUS
_Some Women_ O Women, have ye heard? Nay, dare ye hear The desolate cry of the young Queen's misery?
_A Woman_ My Queen, I love thee dear, Yet liefer were I dead than framed like thee.
_Others_ Woe, woe to me for this thy bitter bane, Surely the food man feeds upon is pain!
_Others_ How wilt thou bear thee through this livelong day, Lost, and thine evil naked to the light?
Strange things are close upon us--who shall say How strange?--save one thing that is plain to sight, The stroke of the Cyprian and the fall thereof On thee, thou child of the Isle of fearful Love!
[PHAEDRA _during this has risen from the couch and comes forward collectedly. As she speaks the_ NURSE _gradually rouses herself, and listens more calmly._]
PHAEDRA O Women, dwellers in this portal-seat Of Pelops' land, gazing towards my Crete, How oft, in other days than these, have I Through night's long hours thought of man's misery, And how this life is wrecked! And, to mine eyes, Not in man's knowledge, not in wisdom, lies The lack that makes for sorrow. Nay, we scan And know the right--for wit hath many a man-- But will not to the last end strive and serve.
For some grow too soon weary, and some swerve To other paths, setting before the Right The diverse far-off image of Delight: And many are delights beneath the sun!
Long hours of converse; and to sit alone Musing--a deadly happiness!--and Shame: Though two things there be hidden in one name, And Shame can be slow poison if it will; This is the truth I saw then, and see still; Nor is there any magic that can stain That white truth for me, or make me blind again.
Come, I will show thee how my spirit hath moved.
When the first stab came, and I knew I loved, I cast about how best to face mine ill.
And the first thought that came, was to be still And hide my sickness.--For no trust there is In man's tongue, that so well admonishes And counsels and betrays, and waxes fat With griefs of its own gathering!--After that I would my madness bravely bear, and try To conquer by mine own heart's purity.
My third mind, when these two availed me naught To quell love was to die-- [_Motion of protest among the Women._]
--the best, best thought-- --Gainsay me not--of all that man can say!
I would not have mine honour hidden away; Why should I have my shame before men's eyes Kept living? And I knew, in deadly wise, Shame was the deed and shame the suffering; And I a woman, too, to face the thing, Despised of all!
Oh, utterly accurst Be she of women, whoso dared the first To cast her honour out to a strange man!
'Twas in some great house, surely, that began This plague upon us; then the baser kind, When the good led towards evil, followed blind And joyous! Cursed be they whose lips are clean And wise and seemly, but their hearts within Rank with bad daring! How can they, O Thou That walkest on the waves, great Cyprian, how Smile in their husbands' faces, and not fall, Not cower before the Darkness that knows all, Aye, dread the dead still chambers, lest one day The stones find voice, and all be finished!
Nay, Friends, 'tis for this I die; lest I stand there Having shamed my husband and the babes I bare.
In ancient Athens they shall some day dwell, My babes, free men, free-spoken, honourable,
EURIPIDES And when one asks their mother, proud of me!
For, oh, it cows a man, though bold he be, To know a mother's or a father's sin.
'Tis written, one way is there, one, to win This life's race, could man keep it from his birth, A true clean spirit. And through all this earth To every false man, that hour comes apace When Time holds up a mirror to his face, And girl-like, marvelling, there he stares to see How foul his heart! Be it not so with me!
LEADER OF CHORUS Ah, G.o.d, how sweet is virtue, and how wise, And honour its due meed in all men's eyes!
NURSE (_who has now risen and recovered herself_) Mistress, a sharp swift terror struck me low A moment since, hearing of this thy woe.
But now--I was a coward! And men say Our second thought the wiser is alway.