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. and gave unto Alcmena’s son, mid blood and smoke and murderous marriage-hymns, to be to him a frantic fiend of hell; woe! woe for his wooing!
Chorus
  1. Ah! holy walls of Thebes, ah! fount of Dirce, ye could testify what course the love-queen follows. For with the blazing levin-bolt
  2. did she cut short the fatal marriage of Semele, mother of Zeus-bom Bacchus. All things she doth inspire, dread goddess, winging her flight hither and thither like a bee.
Phaedra
  1. Peace, ladies, peace! I am undone.
Chorus
  1. What, Phaedra, is this dread event within thy house?
Phaedra
  1. Hush! let me hear what those within are saying.
Chorus
  1. I am silent; this is surely the prelude to mischief.
Phaedra
  1. Great gods!
  2. how awful are my sufferings!
Chorus
  1. What a cry was there! what loud alarm! say what sudden terror, lady, doth thy soul dismay.
Phaedra
  1. I am undone. Stand here at the door and hear the noise arising in the house.
Chorus
  1. Thou art already by the bolted door; ’tis for thee to note the sounds that issue from within. And tell me, O tell me what mischief can be on foot.
Phaedra
  1. ’Tis the son of the horse-loving Amazon who calls, Hippolytus, uttering foul curses on my servant.
Chorus
  1. I hear a noise, but cannot clearly tell[*](Reading ὅπᾳ. The old reading was ὔπα.) which way it comes. Ah! ’tis through the door the sound reached thee.
Phaedra
  1. Yes, yes, he is calling her plainly enough a go-between in vice,
  2. traitress to her master’s honour.
Chorus
  1. Woe, woe is me! thou art betrayed, dear mistress! What counsel shall I give thee? thy secret is out; thou art utterly undone.
Phaedra
  1. Ah me! ah me!
Chorus
  1. Betrayed by friends!
Phaedra
  1. She hath ruined me by speaking of my misfortune; ’twas kindly meant, but an ill way to cure my malady.