Sivut kuvina
PDF
ePub
[blocks in formation]

And Theseus' death sits lighter on my soul:

Hide, hide in shameful night thy beamy head,
And cease to view the horrours of thy race.
Alas! I share th' amazing guilt; these eyes,
That first inspir'd the black incestuous flame,
These ears, that heard the tale of impious love,
Are all accurs'd, and all deserve your thunder.

PHEDRA.

Alas! my lord, believe me not so vile. No: by thy goddess, by the chaste Diana, None but my first, my much-lov'd lord Arsamnes, Was e'er receiv'd, in these unhappy arms. No! for the love of thee, of those dear charms, Which now I see are doom'd to be my ruin, I still deny'd my lord, my husband Theseus, The chaste, the modest joys of spotless marriage; That drove him hence to war, to stormy seas, To rocks and waves less cruel than his Phædra.

[blocks in formation]

You need not urge, nor tempt my swelling rage
With black reproaches, scorn, and provocation,
To do a deed my reason would abhor.
Long has the secret struggled in my breast,

Death? He's not dead! he lives, he breathes, he Long has it rack'd and rent my tortur'd bosom;

speaks,

He lives in you, he's present to my eyes,

I see him, speak to him.My heart! I rave And all my folly's known.

[blocks in formation]

But now 'tis out. Shame, rage, confusion, tear
And drive me on to act unheard-of crimes,
To murder thee, myself, and all that know it.
As when convulsions cleave the labouring Earth,
Before the dismal yawn appears, the ground
Trembles and heaves, the nodding houses crash ;
He's safe, who from the dreadful warning flies,
But he that sees its opening bosom, dies.

HIPPOLITUS.

Then let me take the warning and retire; I'd rather trust the rough Ionian waves, Than woman's fiercer rage.

[Exit.

[Ismena shows herself, listening.

LYCON.

Alas! my lord, You must not leave the queen to her despair.

HIPPOLITUS.

Must not? From thee? From that vile upstart Lycon.

LYCON.

Yes: from that Lycon who derives his greatness
From Phædra's race, and now would guard her life.
Then, sir, forbear, and view this royal signet,
And in her faithful slave obey the queen.

[Enter Guards.
Guards, watch the prince, but at that awful distance,
With that respect, it may not seem confinement,
But only meant for honour.

HIPPOLITUS.

So, confinement is
The honour Crete bestows on Theseus' son.
Am I confin'd? And is 't so soon forgot,

When fierce Procrustes' arms o'er-ran your ] But when he struggles in th' entangling toils, kingdom? Insult the dying prey.-'Tis kindly done, Ismena, [Ism, enters.

When your streets echo'd with the cries of orphans, Your shrieking maids clung round the hallow'd shrines,

When all your palaces and lofty towers
Smok'd on the earth, when the red sky around
Glow'd with your city's flames (a dreadful lustre):
Then, then my father flew to your assistance;
Then Theseus sav'd your lives, estates, and honours,
And do you thus reward the hero's toil?
And do you now confine the hero's son ?

LYCON.

Take not an easy short confinement ill, Which your own safety and the queen's requires ; But fear not aught from one that joys to serve you.

HIPPOLITUS.

O, I disdain thee, traitor, but not fear thee, Nor will I hear of services from Lycon. Thy very looks are lies, eternal falsehood Smiles in thy lips and flatters in thy eyes; Ev'n in thy humble face I read my ruin, In every cringing bow and fawning sinile : Why else d'you whisper out your dark suspicions? Why with malignant elogies increase The people's fears, and praise me to my ruin? Why through the troubled streets of frighted Gnossus

Do bucklers, helms, and polish'd armour blaze? Why sounds the dreadful din of instant war, Whilst still the foe's unknown?

[blocks in formation]

With all your charms to visit my distress,
Soften my chains, and make confinement easy.
Is it then given me to behold thy beauties;
Those blushing sweets, those lovely loving eyes!
To press, to strain thee to my beating heart,
And grow thus to my love? What's liberty to this?
What's fame or greatness? Take them, take them,
Phædra,

Freedom and fame, and in the dear confinement
Enclose me thus for ever.

ISMENA.

O Hippolitus! OI could ever dwell in this confinement! Nor wish for aught while I behold my lord; But yet that wish, that only wish is vain. When my hard fate thus forces me to beg you, Drive from your god-like soul a wretched maid; Take to your arms (assist me Heaven to speak it) Take to your arms imperial Phædra, And think of me no more.

HIPPOLITUS.

Not think of thee?'

What! part, for ever part? Unkind Ismena:
Oh! can you think that death is half so dreadful
As it would be to live, and live without thee?
Say, should I quit thee, should I turn to Phædra,
Say, could'st thou bear it? Could thy tender soul
Endure the torment of despairing love,
And see me settled in a rival's arms?

ISMENA.

Think not of me: perhaps my equal mind May learn to bear the fate the gods allot me. Yet would you hear me; could your lov'd Ismena With all her charms o'er-rule your sullen honour, You yet might live, nor leave the poor Ismena.

HIPPOLITUS.

Speak, if I can, I'm ready to obey.

ISMENA.

Give the queen hopes. `_

HIPPOLITUS.

No more. -My soul disdains it. No, should I try, my haughty soul would swell; Sharpen each word, and threaten in my eyes. O! should I stoop to cringe, to lie, forswear? Deserve the ruin which I strive to shun?

ISMENA.

O, I can't bear this cold contempt of death! This rigid virtue, that prefers your glory To liberty or life. O cruel man! By these sad sighs, by these poor streaming eyes, By that dear love that makes us now unhappy, By the near danger of that precious life, Heaven knows I value much above my own. What! Not yet mov'd? Are you resolv'd on death? Then, ere 'tis night, I swear by all the powers, This steel shall end my fears and life together.

HIPPOLITUS.

You shan't be trusted with a life so precious. No, to the court I'll publish your design,

Ev'n bloody Lycon will prevent your fate;
Lycon shall wrench the dagger from your bosom,
And raving Phædra will preserve Ismena.

ISMENA.

Is this thy truth? Is this thy boasted honour?
Then all are rogues alike: I never thought
But one man honest, and that one deceives me.

Ismena here!

[Aside.

Phædra! Come on, I'll lead you on to Phædra; 'Tis all agreed, and now the prince is safe
I'll tell her all the secrets of our love,
Give to her rage her close destructive rival;
Her rival sure will fall, her love may save you.
Come see me labour in the pangs of death,
My agonizing limbs, my dying eyes,
Dying, yet fixt in death on my Hippolitus.

From the sure vengeance of despairing love.
Now Phædra's rage is chang'd to soft endearments.
She doats, she dies; and few, but tedious days,
With endless joys will crown the happy pair.

[blocks in formation]

ISMENA.

Does he then wed the queen?

LYCON.

At least I think so.
I, when the prince approach'd, not far retired
Pale with my doubts: he spoke; th' attentive queen
Dwelt on his accents, and her gloomy eyes
Sparkled with gentler fires: he blushing bow'd,
She trembling, lost in love, with soft confusion
Receiv'd his passion, and return'd her own:
Then smiling turn'd to me, and bid me order
The pompous rites of her ensuing nuptials,
Which I must now pursue. Farewell, Ismena. [Ex.

[blocks in formation]

Ah! wherefore should I stay?
What! Shall 1 stay to rave, t' upbraid, to hold him?
To snatch the struggling charmer from her arms?
For could you think that open generous youth
Could with feign'd love deceive a jealous woman?
Could he so soon grow artful in dissembling?
Ah! without doubt his thoughts inspir'd his tongue,
And all his soul receiv'd a real love.
Perhaps new graces darted from her eyes,
Perhaps soft pity charm'd his yielding soul,
Perhaps her love, perhaps her kingdom charm'd
him;

Perhaps Alas! how many things might charm
him!

CHO.

Wait the success: it is not yet decided.

ISMENA.

Not yet decided! Did not Lycon tell us
How he protested, sigh'd, and look'd, and vow'd:
How the soft passion languish'd in his eyes?
Yes, yes, he loves, he doats on Phædra's charms.
Now, now he clasps her to his panting breast,
Now he devours her with his eager eyes,
Now grasps her hands and now he looks, and vows,
The dear false things that charm'd the poor Ismena.
He comes: be still, my heart, the tyrant comes,
Charming, though false, and lovely in his guilt.

Enter Hippolitus.

HIPPOLITUS.

Why hangs that cloudy sorrow on your brow? Why do you sigh? Why flow your swelling eyes, Those eyes that us'd with joy to view Hippolitus?

[blocks in formation]

Then thus. I came and spake, but scarce of love; The easy queen receiv'd my faint address With eager hope and unsuspicious faith. Lycon with seeming joy dismiss'd my guards, My generous soul disdain'd the mean deceit, But still deceiv'd her to obey Ismena.

ISMENA.

Pardon the errours of a silly maid,
Wild with her fears, and mad with jealousy;
For still that fear, that jealousy, was love.
Haste then, my lord, and save yourself by flight;
Shall cease to cheer forlorn Ismena's eyes,
And when you're absent, when your god-like form

Then let each day, each hour, each minute, bring Some kind remembrance of your constant love; Speak of your health, your fortune, and your friends (For sure those friends shall have my tenderest wishes)

Speak much of all; but of thy dear, dear love, Speak much, speak very much, and still speak on.

HIPPOLITUS.

Oh! thy dear love shall ever be my theme,
Of that alone I'll talk the live-long day;
But thus I'll talk, thus dwelling in thy eyes,
Tasting the odours of thy fragrant bosom.
Come then to crown me with immortal joys,
Come, be the kind companion of my flight,
Come haste with me to leave this fatal shore.
The bark, before prepar'd for my departure,
Expects its freight, a hundred lusty rowers
Have way'd their sinewy arms, and call'd Hip-
politus;

The loosen'd canvass trembles with the wind,
And the sea whitens with auspicious gales.

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

Will you refuse me? Can I leave behind me All that inspires my soul, and cheers my eyes? Will you not go? Then here I'll wait my doom.

Art thou then true? Thou art. Oh, pardon me, Come, raving l'hædra, bloody Lycon come!

1 offer to your rage this worthless life, Since 'tis no longer my Ismena's care.

ISMENA.

O! haste away, my lord; I go, I fly Through all the dangers of the boisterous deep. When the wind whistles through the crackling

masts,

When through the yawning ship the foaming sea
Rowls bubbling in; then, then I'll clasp thee fast,
And in transporting love forget my fear.
Oh! I will wander through the Scythian gloom,
O'er ice, and hills of everlasting snow:
There, when the horrid darkness shall enclose us,
When the bleak wind shall chill my shivering
limbs,

Thou shalt alone supply the distant Sun,
And cheer my gazing eyes, and warm my heart.

HIPPOLITUS.

Come, let's away, and like another Jason I'll bear my beauteous conquest through the seas: A greater treasure, and a nobler prize Than he from Colchos bore. Sleep, sleep in peace, Ye monsters of the woods, on Ida's top Securely roam; no more my early horn Shall wake the lazy day. Transporting love Reigns in my heart, and makes me all its own. So when bright Venus yielded up her charms, The blest Adonis languish'd in her arms; His idle horn on fragrant myrtles hung, His arrows scatter'd, and his bow unstrung: Obscure in coverts lie his dreaming hounds, And bay the fancy'd boar with feeble sounds. For nobler sports he quits the savage fields, And all the hero to the lover yields.

Is there aught else? Has happy Phædra aught,
In the wide circle of her far-stretch'd empire?
Ask, take, my friend, secure of no repulse:
Let spacious Crete through all her hundred cities
Resound her Phædra's joy. Let altars smoke,
And richest gums, and spice, and incense, roll
Their fragrant wreaths to Heaven, to pitying
Heaven,

Which gives Hippolitus to Phædra's arms.
Set all at large, and bid the loathsome dungeons
Give up the meagre slaves that pine n darkness,
And waste in grief, as did despairing Phædra:
Let them be cheer'd, let the starv'd prisoners riot,
And glow with generous wine.-Let sorrow cease.
Let none be wretched, none, since Phædra's happy.
But now he comes, and with an equal passion
Rewards iny flame, and springs into my arms!
Enter Messenger.

Say, where's the prince?

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]
« EdellinenJatka »