Lo! where he comes, this hapless youth, his fair young flesh and auburn locks most shamefully handled. Unhappy house! what twofold sorrow doth o’ertake its halls, through heaven’s ordinance!
HippolytusAh! ah! woe is me! foully undone by an impious father’s impious imprecation! Undone, undone! woe is me! Through my head shoot fearful pains; my brain throbs convulsively. Stop, let me rest my worn-out frame.Oh, oh! Accursed steeds, that mine own hand did feed, ye have been my ruin and my death. O by the gods, good sirs, I beseech ye, softly touch my wounded limbs. Who stands there at my right side? Lift me tenderly; with slow and even step conduct a poor wretch cursed by his mistaken sire. Great Zeus, dost thou see this? Me thy reverent worshipper, me who left all men behind in purity, plunged thus into yawning Hades ’neath the earth, reft of life; in vain the toils I have endured through my piety towards mankind.
HippolytusAh me! ah me! O the thrill of anguish shooting through me! Set me down, poor wretch I am; come Death to set me free! Kill me, end my sufferings.Nauck’s comment on these closing lines of H.’s speech is, restitui vix poterunt.
Any translation of them can only be tentative.O for a sword two-edged to hack my flesh, and close this mortal life! Ill-fated curse of my father! the crimes of bloody kinsmen.Such as Tantalus and Pelops, Atreus and Thyestes. ancestors of old, now pass their boundaries and tarry not, and upon me are they come all guiltless as I am; ah! why? Alas, alas! what can I say? How from my life get rid of this relentless agony? O that the stern Death-god, night’s black visitant, would give my sufferings rest!ArtemisPoor sufferer! cruel the fate that links thee to it! Thy noble soul hath been thy ruin.HippolytusAh! the fragrance from my goddess wafted! Even in my agony I feel thee near and find relief; she is here in this very place, my goddess Artemis.ArtemisShe is, poor sufferer! the goddess thou hast loved the best.HippolytusDost see me, mistress mine? dost see my present suffering?ArtemisI see thee, but mine eyes no tear may weep.HippolytusThou hast none now to lead the hunt or tend thy fane.ArtemisNone now; yet e’en in death I love thee still.HippolytusNone to groom thy steeds, or guard thy shrines.