Medeja

LICA

DADILJA

VASPITAČ dece

MEDEJA, Jasonova žena

KREONT, car korintski

JASON, Medejin muž

EGEJ, car atinski

GLASNIK

Dva SINČIĆA Jasonova i Medejina

PRATNJA Kreontova, Jasonova, Egejeva

Medejine DVORKINJE

Pozornica pretstavlja otvoreno mesto pred palatom u kojoj stanuje Medeja u gradu Korintu, s izgledom na najbliže ulice.

PROLOG

Jutarnji časovi. Dadilja Medejina izlazi iz palate, da da oduška svojoj zabrinutosti koju izaziva žalosna sudbina nekad srećnog Jasonovog doma.

PRVI ČIN

PRVA POJAVA

Dadilja (sama)

DADILJA

(Duboko potresena gledajući na jutarnje nebo)

Ej, Arga brod da nije brz poleteo
kroz mrke Simplegade zemlje Kolhidi!
U klancu pelijskom da nije pao bor,
i vesla ruke prihvatile junačke
što zlatno runo dobaviše Peliji!
E, ne bi ni Medeja, moja gospođa,
doplovila u tvrde kule Jolkove
u ludoj strasti prema svome Jasonu;
pa još da nije Pelijade krenula
da smaknu oca, ne stiže ni Korintu
sa mužem i sa decom. Gradu omile
što nađe zaklon baš u zemlji njegovoj,
i svu tegobu verno deli s Jasonom.
Najveća sreća baš se onda pomalja
kad muž i žena sporazumno delaju.

(Kratka pausa)

A sada svugde razdor, ljubav uvenu.
Odbaciv dečicu i moju gospođu
tu Jason carski nađe dvor i zaruči
ćer Kreonta, što zemljom ovom upravlja.

Medeja, nesrećnica, kako uzdiše!
Sad zove kletve, veru, danu desnicu,
i k'o svedoke priziva još bogove,
da vide kako Jason njoj se oduži.
Bez hrane leži, sva se bolu predade,
u suze roni ceo dan dugovetni,
izdajstvo otkad vide muža svojega.
Nit' oči diže niti lice otkida
sa zemlje, prijateljsku sluša utehu
koliko hladna stena ili morski val.
Pokatkad samo vratom krene prebelim,
pa tiho jeca, dragog oca doziva,
pa dom i zavičaj, što sve ih izdade,
te pođe s mužem što je sada odgurnu.
I jadnica u svojoj shvati nesreći
šta znači svoj ne ostaviti zavičaj!

Pa mrzi decu, ne mari da gleda ih.
Ah, da im samo kakvo zlo ne napravi!
Ta naglo srce ima, ono nepravdu
ne trpi. Znam je dobro, pa me zato strah!
U dvor će ući, gde je odar spremljen već,
pa mačem oštrim udariće kroz srce,
il' cara i mladoženju pogubiće;
od jednog tako dva će napraviti zla.
Ta strašna je! Ko s njome borbu zametne,
taj slavnu lako ne odnese pobedu!

(Kratka pausa; upravlja pogled prema gradu)

Al' već joj deca vraćaju se umorna
sa vežbanja, ne znadu za bol materin;
ta mlado srce ne mari za bolove!

(Pojavljuje se vaspitač s oba sinčića Medejina)

DRUGA POJAVA

Vaspitač, Dadilja

VASPITAČ(Dadilji)

Ti, stara slugo moje gospodarice,
što sasvim sama stojiš tu na vratima
i sama sebi plačeš svoje nevolje?
Medeja sama zar bez tvoje pomoći?

DADILJA

Ej, seda pratnjo Jasonova podmlatka,
ta verne sluge tešku muku podnose
kad kakvi jadi gospodare zadese.
Toliko patim da me žudnja osvoji
i zemlji svoj i nebu da se izjadam
kolike jade gospa moja podnosi.

VASPITAČ

Zar nesrećnica još ne presta plakati?

DADILJA

Da blago tebi! Sad joj jad tek počinje.

VASPITAČ

E, baš je luda, smem li za nju reći to,
još ne zna kakva zla je sada čekaju!

DADILJA (uplašeno)

Šta govoriš to, starče? Kazuj samo sve!

VASPITAČ

Ta — ništa. Kajem se što i to rekoh ti.

DADILJA

Sedina tih ti, nemoj kriti preda mnom,
a umeću ti, ako treba ćutati.

VASPITAČ

Pireni dođoh, našem hladnom kladencu,
gde starci sede, igru „po pet" igraju,
i tu ti čuh, prisluškujuć' neprimećen,
gde neko reče da će care decu tu
i majku s njima prognati iz Korinta.
Je l' istina što reče, ne znam kazati,
a želim od srca da tako ne bude.

DADILJA

I pored svađe s njome, zar će Jason još
i to da gleda gde mu decu zlostave?

VASPITAČ

Uz novo srodstvo stare veze prestaju,
za pravo naše kuće on se ne brine.

DADILJA

To propast za nas! Staro zlo ne presta još,
a već se starom novo zlo pridružuje.

VASPITAČ

Ti ćuti bar, ne zbori! Nije prilika
da gospa naša i tu čuje nevolju.

DADILJA

(Obraćajući se deci)

Oh, deco, čujete li ko je otac vaš?
Al' ne! Ne proklinjem; gospodar on je moj,
no stoji da je rđav prema svojima.

VASPITAČ

A ko je bolji? To tek sada doznaješ;
svak sebe više voli nego bližnjega;
pošteno jedni, drugi radi koristi,
k'o Jason što ih novom braku žrtvuje!

DADILJA

(Ponovo obraćajući se deci)

Pa hajte, deco — biće bolje — u kuću.

VASPITAČ

A ti koliko možeš na njih pripazi
i ne puštaj ih rasrđenoj materi;
već opazih je kako seče očima
tu decu, k'o da sprema zlo. A dobro znam:
ne prođe gnev je pre no sruši nekoga.
Da samo dušmana, ne decu, obori!

(Vaspitač pođe s decom u kuću, ali se u taj čas iz kuće začuje kukanje Medejino, i svi u strahu zastanu)

TREĆA POJAVA

Dadilja, Medeja (u kući)

MEDEJA

Prvi sistem

Avaj!
Jadne mene, gorka li čemera!
Avaj meni, gde si, crna smrti!

DADILJA (deci)

Ne rekoh li, dečice mi draga,
vašoj majci srce gnevom plamti,
bež'te brže u odaju svoju,
očima joj ne približujte se,
dalje od nje, klonite se dobro
divlje ćudi i ljutita besa
uskipela materina gneva!
Brže sada hajdete unutra!

(Vaspitač brzo odlazi s decom u kuću)

Malen oblak žalbe i kuknjave
nadvija se polako, a potom
stvoriće se strašnom burom besa.
Šta to snuje ojađeno srce
žalcem jada izjedeno ljuto?

MEDEJA (kao pre)

Drugi sistem

Avaj! Avaj!
Jad jadujem, i kamen bi plak'o!

(Primeti decu kad ulaze u kuću)

Kleta deco majke očajnice,
propast vama k'o i vašem ocu,
vaša kuća ostanula pusta!

DADILJA

Treći sistem

Avaj meni! Avaj nesrećnici!
Za greh očev šta su deca kriva?
Što ih mrziš? Avaj. deco mila,
strah je mene: stradaćete jadna.
Jesu strašna u silnika srca,
mnogo traže, a malo slušaju,
srdnju svoju teško savlađuju.
Bolji mi je život sa svojima.
Želja moja nije život sjajan,
nego starost mirna i bez brige.
Već i stara kaže poslovica:
prava mera svugde pobeđuje,
skroman život — sreća i spasenje;
prekomernost sreću ne donosi,
veći jadi na kuću se ruše,
kad se na nju bogovi razgneve.

(Dolazi iz grada hor korintskih građanki)

ČETVRTA POJAVA

Hor, Dadilja, Medeja (u kući)

ULAZNA PESMA

HOR

UVODNA PESMA

Čula sam vapaj, čula sam krik
jadne naše Kolhiđanke.
Srce njeno ne smiri se još?
Kaži nama, stara ženo!
Pred kapijom stojeć' iznutra kuknjavu čusmo,
pa i nas, o starice, dirnuše bolovi njeni,
njena kuća i nama je mila.

DADILJA

Četvrti sistem

Ti o kući zboriš — sva kuća joj jad,
jer carevu ćerku uzima on,
i gospođa moja u kući vene,
i nikakav prijatelj ne može nju
ma kakvom da uteši rečju.

MEDEJA (iznutra)

Peti sistem

Avaj, avaj!
Nek u glavu mene udari grom!
Ta kakvu mi radost donosi život?
O lele, o smrti! Učini mi kraj
i život mi jadni prekrati!

HOR

Strofa

Ču li, Dive, zemljo, sunce,
tešku žalost, ljuti vapaj jadne žene?
Zašto tako mreti žudiš,
nesrećnice zaslepljena?
Smrt će doći i bez molbe,
zato njojzi ne moli se!
Što se muž tvoj ženi drugom,
i druge su takve sreće,
ne primaj to zato k srcu!
Div će svetit' žalost tvoju.
Ne jedi se zbog svog vojna!

MEDEJA (kao i pre)

Šesti sistem

O veliki Dive i Temido gospo,
šta trpeti moram zakletvom silnom
kad život svoj vezah za neverna muža!
Oh, kad bih i njega i njegovu dragu
u dvoru im smrvljene ugledat mogla!
Ta oni me prvi uvališe u zlo.
O oče, o zemljo, izgubih vas ja
kad rođenog brata ružno pogubih.

DADILJA (horu)

Ta čujete l' šta sve govori ona
i priziva Temidu silnu i Diva
što ljudima štiti zakletve dane?
Oh, gospođa moja zaista neće
na malenoj stvari izliti gneva!

HOR

Antistrofa

Da l' bi kako nama došla,
da nas vidi i da čuje
naše reči?
Teška srdžba prošla bi je,
srca prkos utolio.
A svakome treba dragom
dobru volju da činimo.

(Obraćajući se dadilji)

Hajde po nju, izvedi je,
amo nama neka dođe,
mi smo njojzi, kaži, verne, —
hitaj samo dok zla nema,
žalost na to nagnaće je.

DADILJA

Osmi sistem

Učiniću to, al' da li ću moći
da gospođu privolim, za to se bojim!
Al' rado se toga prihvatam posla.
K'o lavica koja laviće brani
na svakoga ona očima seva
kad započne ko da zbori joj štogod.

(Okrene se gledaocima)

Priznat' se mora da pređašnji ljudi
budale bejahu, a nipošto ljudi,
kad smisliše pesme za svečane igre,
za pijanke žive i raskošne gozbe
iznađoše prijatan začin životu,
a niko za muke i žalosti teške
ni svirkom ni pesmom ne nađe leka,
a smrti i nesreće strašne
razaraju život i domaću sreću.
I zato nek pesma ublažava rane.
A kad je na sofri đakonija svaka,
šta treba ludu razvijati graju?
Ta društvo se i bez svirke veseli
za obilnom sofrom kraj činija punih.

(Dadilja otide u kuću da izvede Medeju; hor ostaje na pozornici sam i peva pesmu u kojoj izražava svoje saosećanje s Medejinim bolovima)

Epoda

Čuj joj lelek, uzdisanje gorko,
silnu žalbu, proklinjanje ljuto
što joj vojno verom prevrnuo.
S nepravde se razdire i kinji,
i još zove Temidu i Diva
k'o svedoke pogažene vere,
vera dana ulila joj snagu
da Heladi beži, a kroz vrata
koja slano zatvaraju more.

(Iz dvora izlazi Medeja s dadiljom i dvorkinjama)

Hippolytus

APHRODITE


GREAT among men, and not unnamed am I,      
The Cyprian, in God’s inmost halls on high.      
And wheresoe’er from Pontus to the far      
Red West men dwell, and see the glad day-star,           4   
And worship Me, the pious heart I bless,      
And wreck that life that lives in stubbornness.      
For that there is, even in a great God’s mind,      
That hungereth for the praise of human kind.           8   
  So runs my word; and soon the very deed      
Shall follow. For this Prince of Theseus’ seed,      
Hippolytus, child of that dead Amazon,      
And reared by saintly Pittheus in his own           12   
Strait ways, bath dared, alone of all Trozên,      
To hold me least of spirits and most mean,      
And spurns my spell and seeks no woman’s kiss.      
But great Apollo’s sister, Artemis,           16   
He holds of all most high, gives love and praise,      
And through the wild dark woods for ever strays,      
He and the Maid together, with swift hounds      
To slay all angry beasts from out these bounds,           20   
To more than mortal friendship consecrate!      
  I grudge it not. No grudge know I, nor hate;      
Yet, seeing he bath offended, I this day      
Shall smite Hippolytus. Long since my way           24   
Was opened, nor needs now much labour more.      
  For once from Pittheus’ castle to the shore      
Of Athens came Hippolytus over-seas      
Seeking the vision of the Mysteries.           28   
And Phædra there, his father’s Queen high-born;      
Saw him, and as she saw, her heart was torn      
With great love, by the working of my will.      
And for his sake, long since, on Pallas’ hill,           32   
Deep in the rock, that Love no more might roam,      
She built a shrine, and named it Love-at-home:      
And the rock held it, but its face alway      
Seeks Trozên o’er the seas. Then came the day           36   
When Theseus, for the blood of kinsmen shed,      
Spake doom of exile on himself, and fled,      
Phædra beside him, even to this Trozên.      
And here that grievous and amazèd Queen,           40   
Wounded and wondering, with ne’er a word,      
Wastes slowly; and her secret none bath heard      
Nor dreamed.      
              But never thus this love shall end!           44   
To Theseus’ ear some whisper will I send,      
And all be bare! And that proud Prince, my foe,      
His sire shall slay with curses. Even so      
Endeth that boon the great Lord of the Main           48   
To Theseus gave, the Three Prayers not in vain.      
  And she, not in dishonour, yet shall die.      
I would not rate this woman’s pain so high      
As not to pay mine haters in full fee           52   
That vengeance that shall make all well with me.      
    
  But soft, here comes he, striding from the chase,      
Our Prince Hippolytus!—I will go my ways.—      
And hunters at his heels: and a loud throng           56   
Glorying Artemis with praise and song!      
Little he knows that Hell’s gates opened are,      
And this his last look on the great Day-star!  [APHRODITE withdraws, unseen by HIPPOLYTUS and a band of huntsmen, who enter from the left, singing. They pass the Statue of APHRODITE without notice.      
    
HIPPOLYTUS


Follow, O follow me,           60   
  Singing on your ways      
Her in whose hand are we,      
Her whose own flock we be,      
The Zeus-Child the Heavenly;           64   
  To Artemis be praise!      
    
HUNTSMAN


Hail to thee, Maiden blest,      
Proudest and holiest:      
God’s Daughter, great in bliss,           68   
Leto-born, Artemis!      
Hail to thee, Maiden, far      
Fairest of all that are,      
  Yea, and most high thine home,           72   
Child of the Father’s hall;      
Hear, O most virginal,      
Hear, O most fair of all,      
  In high God’s golden dome.  [The huntsmen have gathered about the altar of ARTEMIS. HIPPOLYTUS now advances from them, and approaches the Statue with a wreath in his hand.           76   
    
HIPPOLYTUS


To thee this wreathèd garland, from a green      
And virgin meadow bear I, O my Queen,      
Where never shepherd leads his grazing ewes      
Nor scythe has touched. Only the river dews           80   
Gleam, and the spring bee sings, and in the glade      
Hath Solitude her mystic garden made.      
  No evil hand may cull it: only he      
Whose heart bath known the heart of Purity,           84   
Unlearned of man, and true whate’er befall.      
Take therefore from pure hands this coronal,      
O mistress loved, thy golden hair to twine.      
For, sole of living men, this grace is mine,           88   
To dwell with thee, and speak, and hear replies      
Of voice divine, though none may see thine eyes.      
Oh, keep me to the end in this same road!  [An OLD HUNTSMAN, who has stood apart from the rest, here comes up to HIPPOLYTUS.      
    
HUNTSMAN


My Prince—for “Master” name I none but God—           92   
Gave I good counsel, wouldst thou welcome it?      
    
HIPPOLYTUS


Right gladly, friend; else were I poor of wit.      
    
HUNTSMAN


Knowest thou one law, that through the world has won?      
    
HIPPOLYTUS


What wouldst thou? And how runs thy law? Say on.           96   
    
HUNTSMAN


It hates that Pride that speaks not all men fair!      
    
HIPPOLYTUS


And rightly. Pride breeds hatred everywhere.      
    
HUNTSMAN


And good words love, and grace in all men’s sight?      
    
HIPPOLYTUS


Aye, and much gain withal, for trouble slight.           100   
    
HUNTSMAN


How deem’st thou of the Gods? Are they the same?      
    
HIPPOLYTUS


Surely: we are but fashioned on their frame.      
    
HUNTSMAN


Why then wilt thou be proud, and worship not…      
    
HIPPOLYTUS


Whom? If the name he speakable, speak out!           104   
    
HUNTSMAN


She stands here at thy gate the Cyprian Queen!      
    
HIPPOLYTUS


I greet her from afar: my life is clean.      
    
HUNTSMAN

Clean? Nay, proud, proud; a mark for all to scan!      
    
HIPPOLYTUS


Each mind hath its own bent, for God or man.           108   
    
HUNTSMAN


God grant thee happiness … and wiser thought!      
    
HIPPOLYTUS


These Spirits that reign in darkness like me not.      
    
HUNTSMANWhat the Gods ask, O Son, that man must pay!
    
HIPPOLYTUS (turning from him to the others).


On, huntsmen, to the Castle! Make your way           112   
Straight to the feast room; ’tis a merry thing      
After the chase, a board of banqueting.      
And see the steeds be groomed, and in array      
The chariot dight. I drive them forth to-day.  [He pauses, and makes a slight gesture of reverence to the Statue on the left. Then to the OLD HUNTSMAN.           116   
That for thy Cyprian, friend, and nought beside!  [HIPPOLYTUS follows the huntsmen, who stream off by the central door in the Castle. The OLD HUNTSMAN remains.      
    
HUNTSMAN (approaching the Statue and kneeling)


O Cyprian—for a young man in his pride      
I will not follow!—here before thee, meek,      
In that one language that a slave may speak,           120   
I pray thee; Oh, if some wild heart in froth      
Of youth surges against thee, be not wroth      
For ever! Nay, be far and hear not then:      
Gods should be gentler and more wise than men!  [He rises and follows the others into the Castle.           124   
    
The Orchestra is empty for a moment, then there enter from right and left several Trozenian women, young and old. Their number eventually amounts to fifteen.


CHORUS


  There riseth a rock-born river,      
    Of Ocean’s tribe, men say;      
  The crags of it gleam and quiver,      
    And pitchers dip in the spray:           128   
A woman was there with raiment white      
To bathe and spread in the warm sunlight,      
  And she told a tale to me there by the river,      
    The tale of the Queen and her evil day:           132   
    
  How, ailing beyond allayment,      
    Within she hath bowed her head,      
  And with shadow of silken raiment      
    The bright brown hair bespread.           136   
For three long days she hath lain forlorn,      
Her lips untainted of flesh or corn,      
  For that secret sorrow beyond allayment      
    That steers to the far sad shore of the dead.           140   
    
Some Women


Is this some Spirit, O child of man?      
Doth Hecat hold thee perchance, or Pan?      
Doth she of the Mountains work her ban,      
  Or the dread Corybantes bind thee?           144   
    
Others


Nay, is it sin that upon thee lies,      
Sin of forgotten sacrifice,      
In thine own Dictynna’s sea-wild eyes?      
  Who in Limna here can find thee;           148   
For the Deep’s dry floor is her easy way,      
And she moves in the salt wet whirl of the spray.      
    
Other Women


Or doth the Lord of Erechtheus’ race,      
Thy Theseus, watch for a fairer face,           152   
For secret arms in a silent place,      
  Far from thy love or chiding?      
    
Others


Or hath there landed, amid the loud      
Hum of Piraeus’ sailor-crowd,           156   
Some Cretan venturer, weary-browed,      
  Who bears to the Queen some tiding;      
Some far home-grief, that bath bowed her low,      
And chained her soul to a bed of woe?           160   
    
An Older Woman


Nay—know yet not?—this burden hath alway lain      
On the devious being of woman; yea, burdens twain,      
The burden of Wild Will and the burden of Pain.      
Through my heart once that wind of terror sped;           164   
    But I, in fear confessèd,      
Cried from the dark to Her in heavenly bliss,      
The Helper of Pain, the Bow-Maid Artemis:      
Whose feet I praise for ever, where they tread           168   
    Far off among the blessèd!      
    
THE LEADER


But see, the Queen’s grey nurse at the door,      
Sad-eyed and sterner, methinks, than of yore,      
    With the Queen. Doth she lead her hither,           172   
To the wind and sun?—Ah, fain would I know      
What strange betiding hath blanched that brow,      
    And made that young life wither.  [The NURSE comes out from the central door, followed by PHAEDRA, who is supported by two handmaids. They make ready a couch for PHAEDRA to lie upon.      
    
NURSE


O sick and sore are the days of men!           176   
What wouldst thou? What shall I change again?      
Here is the Sun for thee; here is the sky;      
And thy weary pillows wind-swept lie,      
    By the castle door.           180   
But the cloud of thy brow is dark, I ween;      
And soon thou wilt back to thy bower within:      
So swift to change is the path of thy feet,      
And near things hateful, and far things sweet;           184   
    So was it before!      
    
Oh, pain were better than tending pain!      
For that were single, and this is twain,      
With grief of heart and labour of limb.           188   
Yet all man’s life is but ailing and dim,      
  And rest upon earth comes never.      
But if any far-off state there be,      
Dearer than life to mortality;           192   
The hand of the Dark hath hold thereof,      
And mist is under and mist above.      
And so we are sick of life, and cling      
On earth to this nameless and shining thing.           196   
For other life is a fountain sealed,      
And the deeps below are unrevealed,      
  And we drift on legends for ever!  [PHAEDRA during this has been laid on her couch; she speaks to the handmaids.      
    
PHAEDRA


Yes; lift me: not my head so low.           200   
  There, hold my arms.—Fair arms they seem!—      
My poor limbs scarce obey me now!      
Take off that hood that weighs my brow,      
      And let my long hair stream.           204   
    
NURSE


Nay, toss not, Child, so feveredly.      
  The sickness best will win relief      
By quiet rest and constancy.      
      All men have grief.           208   
    
PHAEDRA (not noticing her)


Oh for a deep and dewy spring,      
  With runlets cold to draw and drink?      
And a great meadow blossoming,      
Long-grassed, and poplars in a ring,           212   
    To rest me by the brink!      
    
NURSE


Nay, Child! Shall strangers hear this tone      
So wild, and thoughts so fever-flown?      
    
PHAEDRA


Oh, take me to the Mountain! Oh,           216   
Past the great pines and through the wood,      
Up where the lean hounds softly go,      
  A-whine for wild things’ blood,      
And madly flies the dappled roe.           220   
O God, to shout and speed them there,      
An arrow by my chestnut hair      
Drawn tight, and one keen glimmering spear—      
      Ah! if I could!

NURSE


What wouldst thou with them—fancies all!—      
Thy hunting and thy fountain brink?      
What wouldst thou? By the city wall      
Canst hear our own brook plash and fall           228   
  Downhill, if thou wouldst drink.      
    
PHAEDRA


O Mistress of the Sea-lorn Mere      
Where horse-hoofs beat the sand and sing,      
O Artemis, that I were there           232   
To tame Enetian steeds and steer      
    Swift chariots in the ring!      
    
NURSE


Nay, mountainward but now thy hands      
  Yearned out, with craving for the chase;           236   
And now toward the unseaswept sands      
  Thou roamest, where the coursers pace!      
  O wild young steed, what prophet knows      
The power that holds thy curb, and throws           240   
  Thy swift heart from its race?  [At these words PHAEDRA gradually recovers herself and pays attention.      
    
PHAEDRA


What have I said? Woe’s me! And where      
  Gone straying from my wholesome mind?      
What? Did I fall in some god’s snare?           244   
  —Nurse, veil my head again, and blind      
  Mine eyes.—There is a tear behind      
  That lash.—Oh, I am sick with shame!      
    Aye, but it hath a sting,           248   
  To come to reason: yet the name      
    Of madness is an awful thing.—      
    
HIPPOLYTUS


Could I but die in one swift flame      
  Unthinking, unknowing!           252   
    
NURSE


I veil thy face, Child.—Would that so      
  Mine own were veiled for evermore,      
  So sore I love thee!… Though the lore      
Of long life mocks me, and I know           256   
How love should be a lightsome thing      
  Not rooted in the deep o’ the heart;      
  With gentle ties, to twine apart      
If need so call, or closer cling.—           260   
Why do I love thee so? O fool,      
  O fool, the heart that bleeds for twain,      
  And builds, men tell us, wails of pain,      
To walk by love’s unswerving rule           264   
The same for ever, stern and true!      
  For “Thorough” is no word of peace:      
  ’Tis “Naught-too-much” makes trouble cease.      
And many a wise man bows thereto.  [The LEADER OF THE CHORUS here approaches the NURSE.           268   
    
LEADER


Nurse of our Queen, thou watcher old and true,      
We see her great affliction, but no clue      
Have we to learn the sickness. Wouldst thou tell      
The name and sort thereof, ’twould like us well.           272   
    
NURSE


Small leechcraft have I, and she tells no man.      
    
LEADER


Thou know’st no cause? Nor when the unrest began?      
    
NURSE


It all comes to the same. She will not speak.      
    
LEADER (turning and looking at PHAEDRA).


How she is changed and wasted! And how weak!           276   
    
NURSE


’Tis the third day she hath fasted utterly.      
    
LEADER


What, is she mad? Or doth she seek to die?      
    
NURSE


I know not. But to death it sure must lead.      
    
LEADER


’Tis strange that Theseus takes hereof no heed.           280   
    
NURSE


She hides her wound, and vows it is not so.      
    
LEADER


Can he not look into her face and know?      
    
NURSE


Nay, he is on a journey these last days.      
    
LEADER


Canst thou not force her, then? Or think of ways           284   
To trap the secret of the sick heart’s pain?      
    
NURSE


Have I not tried all ways, and all in vain?      
Yet will I cease not now, and thou shalt tell      
If in her grief I serve my mistress well!  [She goes across to where PHAEDRA lies; and presently, while speaking, kneels by her.           288   
Dear daughter mine, all that before was said      
Let both of us forget; and thou instead      
Be kindlier, and unlock that prisoned brow.      
And I, who followed then the wrong road, now           292   
Will leave it and be wiser. If thou fear      
Some secret sickness, there be women here      
To give thee comfort.  [PHAEDRA shakes her head      
                      No; not secret? Then           296   
Is it a sickness meet for aid of men?      
Speak, that a leech may tend thee.      
                                    Silent still?      
Nay, Child, what profits silence? If ’tis ill           300   
This that I counsel, make me see the wrong:      
If well, then yield to me.      
                            Nay, Child, I long      
For one kind word, one look!  [PHAEDRA lies motionless. The NURSE rises.           304   
                              Oh, woe is me!      
Women, we labour here all fruitlessly,      
All as far off as ever from her heart!      
She ever scorned me, and now hears no part           308   
Of all my prayers!  [Turning to PHAEDRA again.      
                  Nay, hear thou shalt, and be,      
If so thou will, more wild than the wild sea;      
But know, thou art thy little ones’ betrayer!           312   
If thou die now, shall child of thine be heir      
To Theseus’ castle? Nay, not thine, I ween,      
But hers! That barbed Amazonian Queen      
Hath left a child to bend thy children low,           316   
A bastard royal-hearted—sayst not so?—      
Hippolytus…      
    
PHAEDRA

Ah!  [She starts up, sitting, and throws the veil off.      
    
NURSE


That stings thee?           320   
    
PHAEDRA


Nurse, most sore      
Thou hast hurt me! In God’s name, speak that name no more.      
    
NURSE


Thou seest? Thy mind is clear; but with thy mind      
Thou wilt not save thy children, nor be kind           324   
To thine own life.      
    
PHAEDRA


My children? Nay, most dear      
I love them,—Far, far other grief is here.      
    
NURSE (after a pause, wondering).


Thy hand is clean, O Child, from stain of blood?           328   
    
PHAEDRA


My hand is clean; but is my heart, O God?      
    
NURSE


Some enemy’s spell hath made thy spirit dim?      
    
PHAEDRA


He hates me not that slays me, nor I him.      
    
NURSE


Theseus, the King, hath wronged thee in man’s wise?           332   
    
PHAEDRA


Ah, could but I stand guiltless in his eyes!      
    
NURSE


O speak! What is this death-fraught mystery?      
    
PHAEDRA


Nay, leave me to my wrong. I wrong not thee.      
    
NURSE (suddenly throwing herself in supplication at PHAEDRA’S feet).
        336   
Not wrong me, whom thou wouldst all desolate leave!      
    
PHAEDRA (rising and trying to move away).


What wouldst thou? Force me? Slinging to my sleeve?      
    
NURSE


Yea, to thy knees; and weep; and let not go!      
    
PHAEDRA


Woe to thee, Woman, if thou learn it, woe!           340   
    
NURSE


I know no bitterer woe than losing thee.      
    
PHAEDRA


I am lost! Yet the deed shall honour me.      
    
NURSE


Why hide what honours thee? ’Tis all I claim!      
    
PHAEDRA


Why, so I build up honour out of shame!           344   
    
NURSE


Then speak, and higher still thy fame shall stand.      
    
PHAEDRA


Go, in God’s name!—Nay, leave me; loose my hand!      
    
NURSE


Never, until thou grant me what I pray.      
    
PHAEDRA (yielding, after a pause).


So be it. I dare not tear that hand away.           348   
    
NURSE (rising and releasing PHAEDRA).


Tell all thou wilt, Daughter. I speak no more.      
    
PHAEDRA (after a long pause).


Mother, poor Mother, that didst love so sore!      
    
NURSE


What mean’st thou, Child? The Wild Bull of the Tide?      
    
PHAEDRA


And thou, sad sister, Dionysus’ bride!           352   
    
NURSE


Child! wouldst thou shame the house where thou wast born?      
    
PHAEDRA


And I the third, sinking most all-forlorn!      
    
NURSE (to herself)


I am all lost and feared. What will she say?      
    
PHAEDRA


From there my grief comes, not from yesterday.           356   
    
NURSE


I come no nearer to thy parable.      
    
PHAEDRA


Oh, would that thou could’st tell what I must tell!      
    
NURSE


I am no seer in things I wot not of.      
    
PHAEDRA (again hesitating)


What is it that they mean, who say men … love?           360   
    
NURSE


A thing most sweet, my Child, yet dolorous.      
    
PHAEDRA


Only the half, belike, hath fallen on us!      
    
NURSE (starting)


On thee? Love?—Oh, what say’st thou? What man’s son?      
    
PHAEDRA


What man’s? There was a Queen, an Amazon…           364   
    
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 God what wilt thou say, Child? Wouldst thou try      
To kill me?—Oh, ’tis more than I can bear;           368   
Women, I will no more of it, this glare      
Of hated day, this shining of the sky.      
I will fling down my body, and let it lie      
Till life he gone!           372   
                    Women, God 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 Statute of CYPRIS, and stands with her eyes riveted upon it.           376   
              Ah, Cyprian! No god art thou,      
But more than god, 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           380   
  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,           384   
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           388   
  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           392   
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,           396   
Not in man’s knowledge, not in wisdom, lies      
The lack that makes for sorrow. Nay, we scan      
And know the right—for wit bath many a man—

But will not to the last end strive and serve.           400   
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!           404   
Long hours of converse; and to sit alone      
Musing—a deadly happiness!—and Shame:      
Though two things there he hidden in one name,      
And Shame can be slow poison if it will;           408   
  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.           412   
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           416   
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           420   
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—           424   
—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,           428   
Shame was the deed and shame the suffering;      
And I a woman, too, to face the thing,      
Despised of all!      
                  Oh, utterly accurst           432   
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,           436   
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           440   
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           444   
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,           448   
In ancient Athens they shall some day dwell,      
My babes, free men, free-spoken, honourable,      
And when one asks their mother, proud of me!      
For, oh, it cows a man, though bold he be,           452   
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           456   
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!           460   
    
LEADER OF CHORUS


Ah, God, bow 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,           464   
But now—I was a coward! And men say      
Our second thought the wiser is alway.      
  This is no monstrous thing; no grief too dire      
To meet with quiet thinking. In her ire           468   
A most strong goddess bath swept down on thee.      
Thou lovest. Is that so strange? Many there be      
Beside thee!… And because thou lovest, wilt fall      
And die! And must all lovers die, then? All           472   
That are or shall be? A blithe law for them!      
Nay, when in might she swoops, no strength can stem      
Cypris; and if man yields him, she is sweet;      
But is he proud and stubborn? From his feet           476   
She lifts him, and—how think you?—flings to scorn!      
  She ranges with the stars of eve and morn,      
She wanders in the heaving of the sea,      
And all life lives from her.—Aye, this is she           480   
That sows Love’s seed and brings Love’s fruit to birth;      
And great Love’s brethren are all we on earth!      
  Nay, they who con grey books of ancient days      
Or dwell among the Muses, tell—and praise—           484   
How Zeus himself once yearned for Semelê;      
How maiden Eôs in her radiancy      
Swept Kephalos to heaven away, away,      
For sore love’s sake. And there they dwell, men say,           488   
And fear not, fret not; for a thing too stern      
Hath met and crushed them!      
                            And must thou, then, turn      
And struggle? Sprang there from thy father’s blood           492   
Thy little soul all lonely? Or the god      
That rules thee, is he other than our gods?      
  Nay, yield thee to men’s ways, and kiss their rods!      
How many, deem’st thou, of men good and wise           496   
Know their own home’s blot, and avert their eyes?      
How many fathers, when a son has strayed      
And toiled beneath the Cyprian, bring him aid,      
Not chiding? And man’s wisdom e’er hath been           500   
To keep what is not good to see, unseen!      
  A straight and perfect life is not for man;      
Nay, in a shut house, let him, if he can,      
’Mid sheltered rooms, make all lines true. But here,           504   
Out in the wide sea fallen, and full of fear,      
Hopest thou so easily to swim to land?      
  Canst thou but set thine ill days on one hand      
And more good days on the other, verily,           508   
O child of woman, life is well with thee!  [She pauses, and then draws nearer to PHAEDRA.      
Nay, dear my daughter, cease thine evil mind,      
Cease thy fierce pride! For pride it is, and blind,      
To seek to outpass gods!—Love on and dare:           512   
A god hath willed it! And, since pain is there,      
Make the pain sleep! Songs are there to bring calm,      
And magic words. And I shall find the balm,      
Be sure, to heal thee. Else in sore dismay           516   
Were men, could not we women find our way!      
    
LEADER OF THE CHORUS


Help is there, Queen, in all this woman says,      
To ease thy suffering. But ’tis thee I praise;      
Albeit that praise is harder to thine ear           520   
Than all her chiding was, and bitterer!      
    
PHAEDRA


Oh, this it is hath flung to dogs and birds      
Men’s lives and homes and cities—fair false words!      
Oh, why speak things to please our ears? We crave           524   
Not that ’Tis honour, honour, we must save!      
    
NURSE


Why prate so proud! ’Tis no words, brave nor base,      
Thou cravest; ’tis a man’s arms!  [PHAEDRA moves indignantly.      
                                  Up and face           528   
The truth of what thou art, and name it straight!      
Were not thy life thrown open here for Fate      
To beat on; hadst thou been a woman pure      
Or wise or strong; never had I for lure           532   
Of joy nor heartache led thee on to this!      
But when a whole life one great battle is,      
To win or lose—no man can blame me then.