Stasimon 1
[Episode]
Look! where the aged nurse is bringing her forth from the house before the door, while on her brow the cloud of gloom is deepening. My soul longs to learn what is her grief, the canker that is
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Chorus
wasting our queen’s fading charms.
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Nurse
O, the ills of mortal men! the cruel diseases they endure! What can I do for thee? from what refrain? Here is the bright sun-light, here the azure sky; lo! we have brought thee on thy bed of sickness
without the palace; for all thy talk was of coming hither, but soon back to thy chamber wilt thou hurry. Disappointment follows fast with thee, thou hast no joy in aught for long; the present has no power to please; on something absent
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next thy heart is set. Better be sick than tend the sick; the first is but a single ill, the last unites mental grief with manual toil. Man’s whole life is full of anguish;
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no respite from his woes he finds; but if there is aught to love beyond this life, night’s dark pall doth wrap it round. And so we show our mad love of this life because its light is shed on earth,
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and because we know no other, and have naught revealed to us of all our earth may hide; and trusting to fables we drift at random.
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Phaedra
Lift my body, raise my head! My limbs are all unstrung, kind friends.
O handmaids, lift my arms, my shapely arms. The tire on my head is too heavy for me to wear; away with it, and let my tresses o’er my shoulders fall.
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Nurse
Be of good heart, dear child; toss not so wildly to and fro.
Lie still, be brave, so wilt thou find thy sickness easier to bear; suffering for mortals is nature’s iron law.
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Phaedra
Ah! would I could draw a draught of water pure from some dew-fed spring, and lay me down to rest in the grassy meadow ’neath the poplar’s shade!
Nurse
My child, what wild speech is this? O say not such things in public, wild whirling words of frenzy bred!
Phaedra
Away to the mountain take me! to the wood, to the pine-trees I will go, where hounds pursue the prey, hard on the scent of dappled fawns. Ye gods! what joy to hark them on,
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to grasp the barbed dart, to poise Thessalian hunting-spears close to my golden hair, then let them fly.
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Nurse
Why, why, my child, these anxious cares? What hast thou to do with the chase?
Why so eager for the flowing spring, when hard by these towers stands a hill well watered, whence thou may’st freely draw?
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Phaedra
O Artemis, who watchest o’er sea-beat LimnaA sea-coast town of Troezen. and the race-course thundering to the horse’s hoofs,
would I were upon thy plains curbing Venetian steeds!
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Nurse
Why betray thy frenzy in these wild whirling words? Now thou wert for hasting hence to the hills away to hunt wild beasts, and now
thy yearning is to drive the steed over the waveless sands. This needs a cunning seer to say what god it is that reins thee from the course, distracting thy senses, child.
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Phaedra
Ah me! alas! what have I done?
Whither have I strayed, my senses leaving? Mad, mad! stricken by some demon’s curse! Woe is me! Cover my head again, nurse. Shame fills me for the words I have spoken.
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Hide me then; from my eyes the tear-drops stream, and for very shame I turn them away. Tis painful coming to one’s senses again, and madness, evil though it be, has this advantage, that one has no knowledge of reason’s overthrow.
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Nurse
There then I cover thee; but when will death hide my body in the grave? Many a lesson length of days is teaching me. Yea, mortal men should pledge themselves
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to moderate friendships only, not to such as reach the very heart’s core; affection’s ties should be light upon them to let them slip or draw them tight. For one poor heart to grieve for twain, as I do
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for my mistress, is a burden sore to bear. Men say that too engrossing pursuits in life more oft cause disappointment than pleasure,
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and too oft are foes to health. Wherefore I do not praise excess so much as moderation, and with me wise men will agree.
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Chorus
O aged dame, faithful nurse of Phaedra, our queen, we see her sorry plight; but what it is that ails her we cannot discern,
so fain would learn of thee and hear thy opinion.
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Nurse
I question her, but am no wiser, for she will not answer.
Chorus
Nor tell what source these sorrows have?
Nurse
The same answer thou must take, for she is dumb on every point.
Chorus
How weak and wasted is her body!
Nurse
What marvel? ’tis three days now since she has tasted food.
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Chorus
Is this infatuation, or an attempt to die?
Nurse
’Tis death she courts; such fasting aims at ending life.
Chorus
A strange story! is her husband satisfied?
Nurse
She hides from him her sorrow, and vows she is not ill.
Chorus
Can he not guess it from her face?
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Nurse
He is not now in his own country.
Chorus
But dost not thou insist in thy endeavour to find out her complaint, her crazy mind?
Nurse
I have tried every plan, and all in vain;
yet not even now will I relax my zeal, that thou too, if thou stayest, mayst witness my devotion to my unhappy mistress.
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Come, come, my darling child, let us forget, the twain of us, our former words; be thou more mild,
smoothing that sullen brow and changing the current of thy thought, and I, if in aught before I failed in humouring thee, will let that be and find some better course. If thou art sick with ills thou canst not name, there be women here to help to set thee right;
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but if thy trouble can to men’s ears be divulged, speak, that physicians may pronounce on it.
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Come, then, why so dumb? Thou shouldst not so remain, my child, but scold me if I speak amiss, or, if I give good counsel, yield assent.
One word, one look this way! Ah me! Friends, we waste our toil to no purpose; we are as far away as ever; she would not relent to my arguments then, nor is she yielding now.
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Well, grow more stubborn than the sea, yet be assured of this,
that if thou diest thou art a traitress to thy children, for they will ne’er inherit their father’s halls, nay, by that knightly queen the AmazonHippolytus was the son of Theseus by a former union with the queen of the Amazons. who bore a son to lord it over thine, a bastard born but not a bastard bred, whom well thou knowest,
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Nurse
Ha! doth that touch the quick?
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Phaedra
Thou hast undone me, nurse; I do adjure by the gods, mention that man no more.
Nurse
There now! thou art thyself again, but e’en yet refusest to aid thy children and preserve thy life.
Phaedra
My babes I love, but there is another storm that buffets me.
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Nurse
Daughter, are thy hands from bloodshed pure?
Phaedra
My hands are pure, but on my soul there rests a stain.
Nurse
The issue of some enemy’s secret witchery?
Phaedra
A friend is my destroyer, one unwilling as myself.
Nurse
Hath Theseus wronged thee in any wise?
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Phaedra
Never may I prove untrue to himi.e. as he never has proved so to me.
Nurse
Then what strange mystery is there that drives thee on to die?
Phaedra
O, let my sin and me alone! ’tis not ’gainst thee I sin.
Nurse
Never willingly! and, if I fail, ’twill rest at thy door.
Phaedra
How now? thou usest force in clinging to my hand.
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Nurse
Yea, and I will never loose my hold upon thy knees.
Phaedra
Alas for thee! my sorrows, shouldst thou learn them, would recoil on thee.
Nurse
What keener grief for me than failing to win thee?
Phaedra
’Twill be death to thee; though to me that brings renown.ὀλεῖ (1) 2nd sing. Fut. Mid. thou wilt die as a consequence of sharing my secret (Paley). (2) 3rd sing. Fut. Active it will kill me to keep silence, though that better ensures my honour.
Nurse
And dost thou then conceal this boon despite my prayers?
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Phaedra
I do, for ’tis out of shame I am planning an honourable escape.
Nurse
Tell it, and thine honour shall the brighter shine.
Phaedra
Away, I do conjure thee; loose my hand.
Nurse
I will not, for the boon thou shouldst have granted me is denied.
Phaedra
I will grant it out of reverence for thy holy sup- pliant touch.
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Nurse
Henceforth I hold my peace; ’tis thine to speak from now.
Phaedra
Ah! hapless mother,Pasiphae, wife of Minos, deceived by Aphrodite into a fatal passion for a bull. Cf. Verg. Aen. vi. ad init., also Ovid Metam., viii, 131 sqq. what a love was thine!
Nurse
Her love for the bull? daughter, or what meanest thou?
Phaedra
And woe to thee! my sister,Ariadne, deserted by Theseus in the isle of Naxos, where Dionysus found her. bride of Dionysus.
Nurse
What ails thee, child? speaking ill of kith and kin.
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Phaedra
Myself the third to suffer! how am I undone!
Nurse
Thou strik’st me dumb! Where will this history end?
Phaedra
That love has been our curse from time long past.
Nurse
I know no more of what I fain would learn.
Phaedra
Ah! would thou couldst say for me what I have to tell.
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Nurse
I am no prophetess to unriddle secrets.
Phaedra
What is it they mean when they talk of people being in love?
Nurse
At once the sweetest and the bitterest thing, my child.
Phaedra
I shall only find the latter half.
Nurse
Ha! my child, art thou in love?
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Phaedra
The Amazon’s son, whoever he may be,—
Nurse
Mean’st thou Hippolytus?
Phaedra
’Twas thou, not I, that spoke his name.
Nurse
O heavens! what is this, my child? Thou hast ruined me. Outrageous! friends; I will not live and bear it;
hateful is life, hateful to mine eyes the light. This body I resign, will cast it off, and rid me of existence by my death. Farewell, my life is o’er. Yea, for the chaste have wicked passions, ’gainst their will maybe, but still they have. Cypris, it seems, is not a goddess after all,
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but something greater far, for she hath been the ruin of my lady and of me and our whole family.
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[Episode 1]
O, too clearly didst thou hear our queen uplift her voice to tell her startling tale of piteous suffering. Come death ere I reach thy state of feeling,Or before thou accomplish thy purpose. loved mistress.
Chorus
O horrible! woe, for these miseries! woe, for the sorrows on which mortals feed! Thou art undone! thou hast disclosed thy sin to heaven’s light. What hath each passing day and every hour in store for thee?
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Some strange event will come to pass in this house. For it is no longer uncertain where the star of thy love is setting, thou hapless daughterShe was daughter of Minos, king of Crete. of Crete.
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[Episode]
Ladies of Troezen, who dwell here upon the frontier edge of Pelops’ land,
Phaedra
oft ere now in heedless mood through the long hours of night have I wondered why man’s life is spoiled; and it seems to me their evil case is not due to any natural fault of judgment, for there be many dowered with sense, but we must view the matter in this light;
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by teaching and experience we learn the right but neglect it in practice, some from sloth, others from preferring pleasure of some kind or other to duty. Now life has many pleasures, protracted talk, and leisure, that seductive evil;
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likewise there is shame which is of two kinds, one a noble quality, the other a curse to families; but if for each its proper time were clearly known, these twain could not have had the selfsame letters to denote them.
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So then since I had made up my mind on these points, ’twas not likely any drug would alter it
and make me think the contrary. And I will tell thee too the way my judgment went. When love wounded me, I bethought me how I best might bear the smart. So from that day forth I began to hide in silence what I suffered.
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For I put no faith in counsellors, who know well to lecture others for presumption, yet themselves have countless troubles of their own. Next I did devise noble endurance of these wanton thoughts, striving by continence for victory.
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And last when I could not succeed in mastering love hereby, methought it best to die; and none can gainsay my purpose. For fain I would my virtue should to all appear, my shame have few to witness it.
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I knew my sickly passion now; to yield to it I saw how infamous; and more, I learnt to know so well that I was but a woman, a thing the world detests. Curses, hideous curses on that wife, who first did shame her marriage-vow for lovers other than her lord! ’Twas from noble families
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this curse began to spread among our sex. For when the noble countenance disgrace, poor folk of course will think that it is right. Those too I hate who make profession of purity, though in secret reckless sinners.
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How can these, queen Cypris, ocean’s child, e’er look their husbands in the face? do they never feel one guilty thrill that their accomplice, night, or the chambers of their house will find a voice and speak?
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This it is that calls on me to die, kind friends,
that so I may ne’er be found to have disgraced my lord, or the children I have born; no! may they grow up and dwell in glorious Athens, free to speak and act, heirs to such fair fame as a mother can bequeath. For to know that father or mother have sinned doth turn
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the stoutest heart to slavishness. This alone, men say, can stand the buffets of life’s battle, a just and virtuous soul in whomsoever found. For time unmasks the villain sooner or later, holding up to them a mirror as to some blooming maid.
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’Mongst such may I be never seen!
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Chorus
Now look! how fair is chastity however viewed, whose fruit is good repute amongst men.
Nurse
My queen, ’tis true thy tale of woe, but lately told, did for the moment strike me with wild alarm,
but now I do reflect upon my foolishness; second thoughts are often best even with men. Thy fate is no uncommon one nor past one’s calculations; thou art stricken by the passion Cypris sends. Thou art in love; what wonder? so are many more.
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Wilt thou, because thou lov’st, destroy thyself? ’Tis little gain, I trow, for those who love or yet may love their fellows, if death must be their end; for though the Love-Queen’s onset in her might is more than man can bear, yet doth she gently visit yielding hearts,
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and only when she finds a proud unnatural spirit, doth she take and mock it past belief. Her path is in the sky, and mid the ocean’s surge she rides; from her all nature springs; she sows the seeds of love, inspires the warm desire
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to which we sons of earth all owe our being. They who have aught to do with books of ancient scribes, or themselves engage in studious pursuits, know how Zeus of Semele was enamoured,
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how the bright-eyed goddess of the Dawn once stole Cephalus to dwell in heaven for the love she bore him; yet these in heaven abide nor shun the gods’ approach, content, I trow, to yield to their misfortune.
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Wilt thou refuse to yield? thy sire, it seems, should have begotten thee on special terms
or with different gods for masters, if in these laws thou wilt not acquiesce. How many, prithee, men of sterling sense, when they see their wives unfaithful, make as though they saw it not? How many fathers, when their sons have gone astray,
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assist them in their amours? ’tis part of human wisdom to conceal the deed of shame. Nor should man aim at excessive refinement in his life; forThese lines are probably corrupt, but no satisfactory emendation has been supplied to make the sense more perfect A conjectural reading is κανὼν ἀκριβώσει ’ἄν, but this involves an elision foreign to tragic usage. they cannot with exactness finish
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e’en the roof that covers in a house; and how dost thou, after falling into so deep a pit, think to escape? Nay, if thou hast more of good than bad, thou wilt fare exceeding well, thy human nature considered.
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O cease, my darling child, from evil thoughts, let wanton pride be gone, for this is naught else,
this wish to rival gods in perfectness. Face thy love; ’tis heaven’s will thou shouldst. Sick thou art, yet turn thy sickness to some happy issue. For there are charms and spells to soothe the soul; surely some cure for thy disease will be found.
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Men, no doubt, might seek it long and late if our women’s minds no scheme devise.
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Chorus
Although she gives thee at thy present need the wiser counsel, Phaedra, yet do I praise thee. Still my praise may sound more harsh
and jar more cruelly on thy ear than her advice.
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Phaedra
’Tis even this, too plausible a tongue, that overthrows good governments and homes of men. We should not speak to please the ear but point the path that leads to noble fame.
Nurse
What means this solemn speech? No need of rounded phrases;The punctuation here adopted from Nauck is a vast improvement on the old reading, which put the stop after τάνδρός, and gave a most coarse sentiment even for so lax a maralist as Phædra’s nurse to utter. but at once must we sound the prince, telling him frankly how it is with thee. Had not thy life to such a crisis come,Nauck brackets these two lines, and for προῆγον reads πῶς ἥγον; or wert thou with self-control endowed,
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ne’er would I to gratify thy passions have urged thee to this course; but now ’tis a struggle fierce to save thy life, and therefore less to blame.
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Phaedra
Accursed proposal! peace, woman! never utter those shameful words again!
Nurse
Shameful, maybe, yet for thee better than honour’s code. Better this deed, if it shall save thy life, than that name thy pride will kill thee to retain.
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Phaedra
I conjure thee, go no further! for thy words are plausible but infamous; for though as yet
love has notI follow Nauck in reading οὐ for εὖ. ὑπειργασμαι = have been subdued—according to Paley and Liddell and Scott (passive). Mahaffy extracts a middle sense prepared my soul for love’s entry, and adopts the conjectural οὐ which would certainly seem to add clearness. undermined my soul, yet, if in specious words thou dress thy foul suggestion, I shall be beguiled into the snare from which I am now escaping.
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Nurse
If thou art of this mind, ’twere well thou ne’er hadst sinned; but as it is, hear me; for that is the next best course; I in my house have charms
to soothe thy love,—’twas but now I thought of them;—these shall cure thee of thy sickness on no disgraceful terms, thy mind unhurt, if thou wilt be but brave.
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But from him thou lovest we must get some token, a word or fragment of his robe,
and thereby unite in one love’s twofold stream.These lines are perhaps spurious. Nauck and Weil both bracket them.
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Phaedra
Is thy drug a salve or potion?
Nurse
I cannot tell; be content, my child, to profit by it and ask no questions.
Phaedra
I fear me thou wilt prove too wise for me.
Nurse
If thou fear this, confess thyself afraid of all; but why thy terror?
Phaedra
Lest thou shouldst breathe a word of this to Theseus’ son.
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Nurse
Peace, my child! I will do all things well; only be thou, queen Cypris, ocean’s child, my partner in the work! And for the rest of my purpose, it will be enough for me to tell it to Our friends within the house. [Exit Nurse.
[Choral 1]
O Love, Love, that from the eyes diffusest soft desire, bringing on the souls of those, whom thou dost camp against, sweet grace, O never in evil mood appear to me, nor out of time and tune approach!
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Chorus
Nor fire nor meteor hurls a mightier bolt than Aphrodite’s shaft shot by the hands of Love, the child of Zeus.
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Idly, idly by the streams of Alpheus and in the Pythian shrines of Phoebus, Hellas heaps the slaughtered steers; while Love we worship not, Love, the king of men, who holds the key to Aphrodite’s
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sweetest bower,—worship not him who, when he comes, lays waste and marks his path to mortal hearts by wide-spread woe.
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[Choral 2]
There was that maidenIole, daughter of Eurytus, king of Oechalia. Her father refused, after promising, to give her to Heracles, who thereupon took her by force. in Oechalia, a girl unwed, that knew no wooer yet nor married joys; her did the queen of LoveThere is some corruption here. It is probable the doubtful εἰρεσίᾳ conceals an allusion to Euryptus, as Monk indeed suggest; but the passage is not yet satisfactorily emended. snatch from her home across the sea
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Chorus
and gave unto Alcmena’s son, mid blood and smoke and murderous marriage-hymns, to be to him a frantic fiend of hell; woe! woe for his wooing!
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Ah! holy walls of Thebes, ah! fount of Dirce, ye could testify what course the love-queen follows. For with the blazing levin-bolt
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did she cut short the fatal marriage of Semele, mother of Zeus-bom Bacchus. All things she doth inspire, dread goddess, winging her flight hither and thither like a bee.
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