ACT V

[_Enter_ Phaedra _with a drawn sword in her hand_.]

_Theseus_ [_to_ Phaedra]: What madness pricks thee on, all wild with grief? What means that sword? or why these loud laments? Why weepest thou above the hated corpse?

_Phaedra:_ Me, me, O savage ruler of the deep, Attack; against me send the monstrous shapes 1160 That breed within the caverns of the sea, Whatever Tethys in her heart conceals, And ocean hides within his wandering waves. O Theseus, always ill of omen thou! Oh, never to thy loved ones safe returned, Since son and father by their death have paid 1165 For thy home-coming. Thou of thine own house Art the destroyer; ever baneful thou, Whether in love or hatred of thy wives. [_Turning to the mangled corpse._] Hippolytus, is this thy face I see? Have I brought thee to this? What Sinis wild, What pitiless Procrustes mangled thee? 1170 What Cretan bull-man, filling all the cave Of Daedalus with his vast bellowings, Has rent thee thus upon his savage horns? Ah me! where now is fled thy beauty bright, Thy eyes, my stars? Dost thou all lifeless lie? Come back a little while and hear my words. 1175 'Tis nothing base I speak. With my own hand I'll make thee full atonement, and will plunge The avenging sword within my sinful breast, And so be free from life and guilt at once. Thee will I follow through Tartarean pools. Across the Styx, through streams of liquid fire. 1180 Let me appease the spirit of the dead. Accept the spoils I offer, take this lock Torn from my bleeding forehead. 'Twas not right To join our souls in life; but surely now We may by death unite our fates. [_To herself._] Now die, If thou art undefiled, to appease thy lord; But if defiled, die for thy lover's sake. 1185 Is't meet that I should live and seek again My husband's couch, by such foul incest stained? This wrong was lacking still, that, as if pure, Thou shouldst enjoy that union, justified. O death, thou only cure for evil love, For injured chastity the last resort: I fly to thee; spread wide thy soothing arms. 1190 Hear me, O Athens; thou, O father, hear, Thou worse than stepdame: I have falsely sworn. The crime, which I myself within my heart, With passion mad, conceived, I basely charged To him. An empty vengeance hast thou wrought Upon thy son; for he in chastity, 1195 Through fault of the unchaste, lies there, unstained And innocent. [_To_ Hippolytus.] Regain thine honor now; Behold my impious breast awaits the stroke Of justice, and my blood makes sacrifice Unto the spirit of a guiltless man. [_To_ Theseus.] How thou mayst recompense thy murdered son, Learn now from me--and seek the Acheron. 1200

[_She falls upon her sword and dies._]

_Theseus:_ Ye jaws of wan Avernus, and ye caves Of Taenara, ye floods of Lethe's stream, A soothing balm to hearts o'ercome with grief, Ye sluggish pools: take ye my impious soul And plunge me deep in your eternal woes. Now come, ye savage monsters of the deep, Whatever Proteus hides within his caves, 1205 And drown me in your pools, me who rejoice In crime so hideous. O father, thou Who ever dost too readily assent Unto my wrathful prayers, I merit not An easy death, who on my son have brought A death so strange, and scattered through the fields His mangled limbs; who, while, as austere judge, I sought to punish evil falsely charged, 1210 Have fallen myself into the pit of crime. For heaven, hell, and seas have by my sins Been peopled; now no further lot remains; Three kingdoms know me now. Was it for this That I returned? Was heaven's light restored To me that I might see two funerals, A double death? That I, bereft of wife 1215 And son, should with one torch upon the pyre Consume them both? Thou giver of the light Which has so baleful proved, O, Hercules, Take back thy boon, and give me up again To Dis; restore me to the curséd shades Whom I escaped. Oh, impious, in vain I call upon that death I left behind. 1220 Thou bloody man, well skilled in deadly arts, Who hast contrived unwonted ways of death And terrible, now deal unto thyself The fitting punishment. Let some great pine Be bent to earth and hurl thee high in air; Or let me headlong leap from Sciron's cliff. 1225 More dreadful punishments have I beheld, Which Phlegethon upon the guilty souls Encircled by his fiery stream inflicts. What suffering awaits me, and what place, Full well I know. Make room, ye guilty shades; On me, me only, let that rock be placed, The everlasting toil of Sisyphus, 1230 And let these wearied hands upbear its weight; Let cooling waters lap and mock my lips; Let that fell vulture fly from Tityos, And let my vitals ever living be For punishment. And thou, Ixion, sire 1235 Of my Pirithoüs, take rest awhile, And let the wheel that never stops its flight Bear these my limbs upon its whirling rim. Now yawn, O earth, and chaos dire, receive, I pray, receive me to your depths; for thus 'Tis fitting that I journey to the shades. I go to meet my son. And fear thou not, 1240 Thou king of dead men's souls; I come in peace To that eternal home, whence ne'er again Shall I come forth. My prayers move not the gods. But if some impious plea I made to them, How ready would they be to grant my prayer!

_Chorus:_ Theseus, thou hast unending time to mourn. Now pay the funeral honors due thy son, 1245 And bury these poor torn and scattered limbs.

_Theseus:_ Then hither bring the pitiful remains Of that dear corpse, and heap together here That shapeless mass of flesh, those mangled limbs. Is this Hippolytus? I realize My depth of crime, for I have murdered thee. 1250 And lest but once and I alone should sin, A parent, bent to do an impious thing, My father did I summon to my aid. Behold, my father's boon do I enjoy. O childlessness, a bitter loss art thou For broken age! But come, embrace his limbs, Whatever of thy hapless son is left, And clasp them, wretched father, to thy breast. 1255 Arrange in order those dismembered parts, And to their proper place restore them. Here His brave right hand should be. Place here the left, Well trained to curb his horses with the reins. The marks of his left side I recognize; 1260 And yet how large a part is lacking still Unto our tears. Be firm, ye trembling hands, To do the last sad offices of grief; Be dry, my cheeks, and stay your flowing tears, While I count o'er the members of my son, And lay his body out for burial. 1265 What is this shapeless piece, on all sides torn With many a wound? I know not what it is, Save that 'tis part of thee. Here lay it down. Not in its own, but in an empty place. That face, that once with starry splendor gleamed, That softened by its grace e'en foemen's eyes, 1270 Has that bright beauty come to this? O fate, How bitter! Deadly favor of the gods! And is it thus my son comes back to me In answer to my prayers? These final rites Thy father pays, receive, O thou my son, Who often to thy funeral must be borne. And now let fires consume these dear remains. Throw open wide my palace, dark with death, 1275 And let all Athens ring with loud laments. Do some of you prepare the royal pyre, And others seek yet farther in the fields His scattered parts. [_Pointing to_ Phaedra's _corpse_.] Let earth on her be spread, And may it heavy rest upon her head. 1280

HERCULES OETAEUS

HERCULES OETAEUS

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

HERCULES Son of Jupiter and Alcmena.

_Hyllus_ Son of Hercules and Deianira.

_Alcmena_ Daughter of Electryon, king of Mycenae.

_Deianira_ Daughter of Oeneus, king of Aetolia, and wife of Hercules.

_Iole_ Daughter of Eurytus, king of Oechalia.

_Nurse_ Of Deianira.

_Philoctetes_ A prince of Thessaly, son of Poeas, and the faithful friend of Hercules.

_Lichas_ The messenger (_persona muta_) of Deianira to Hercules.

_Chorus_ Of Aetolian women, faithful to Deianira.

_Band_ Of Oechalian maidens, suffering captivity in company with Iole.

THE SCENE is laid, first in Euboea, and later at the home of Hercules in Trachin.

_The long, heroic life of Hercules has neared its end. His twelve great tasks, assigned him by Eurystheus through Juno's hatred, have been done. His latest victory was over Eurytus, king of Oechalia. Him he slew and overthrew his house, because the monarch would not give him Iole to wife._

_And now the hero, having overcome the world, and Pluto's realm beneath the earth, aspires to heaven. He sacrifices to Cenaean Jove, and prays at last to be received into his proper home._