Hippolytus

Euripides

Euripides. The Plays of Euripides, Translated into English Prose from the Text of Paley. Vol. I. Coleridge, Edward P., translator. London: George Bell and Sons, 1906.

  1. About her neck she tied the hangman’s knot.
Theseus
  1. Had grief so chilled her blood? or what had befallen her?
Chorus
  1. I know but this, for I am myself but now arrived at the house
  2. to mourn thy sorrows, O Theseus.
Theseus
  1. Woe is me! why have I crowned my head with woven garlands, when misfortune greets my embassage? Unbolt the doors, servants,
  2. loose their fastenings, that I may see the piteous sight,
  3. my wife, whose death is death to me. [The palace opens, disclosing the corpse.
Chorus
  1. Woe! woe is thee for thy piteous lot! thou hast done thyself a hurt deep enough to overthrow this family. Ah! ah! the daring of it! done to death by violence and unnatural means, the desperate effort
  2. of thy own poor hand! Who cast the shadow o’er thy life, poor lady?
Theseus
  1. Ah me, my cruel lot! sorrow hath done her worst on me. O fortune, how heavily hast thou set thy foot on me and on my house,
  2. by fiendish hands inflicting an unexpected stain? Nay, ’tis complete effacement of my life, making it impossible; for I see, alas! so wide an ocean of grief that I can never swim to shore again, nor breast the tide of this calamity.
  3. How shall I speak of thee, my poor wife, what tale of direst suffering tell? Thou art vanished like a bird from the covert of my hand, taking one headlong leap from me to Hades’ halls.
  4. Alas, and woe! this is a bitter, bitter sight! This must be a judgment sent by God for the sins of an ancestor, which from some far source I am bringing on myself.
Chorus
  1. My prince, ’tis not to thee alone such sorrows come;
  2. thou hast lost a noble wife, but so have many others.
Theseus
  1. Fain would I go hide me ’neath earth’s blackest depth, to dwell in darkness with the dead in misery, now that I am reft of thy dear presence! for thou hast slain me than thyself e’en more.
  2. Who can tell me what caused the fatal stroke that reached thy heart, dear wife? Will no one tell me what befell?
  3. doth my palace all in vain give shelter to a herd of menials? Woe, woe for thee, my wife! sorrows
    past speech, past bearing, I behold within my house; myself a ruined man, my home a solitude, my children orphans!
Chorus
  1. Gone[*](Lines 848-851 attributed to Theseus in the Greek.) and left us hast thou, fondest wife and noblest of all women
  2. ’neath the sun’s bright eye or night’s star-lit radiance.[*](Reading with Jacobs, whom Nauck follows, ἀστεπωπὸν σέλας.)