Prologue

APHRODITE.Great among men, and not unnamed am I,The Cyprian, in God's inmost halls on high.And wheresoe'er from Pontus to the farRed West men dwell, and see the glad day-star,And worship Me, the pious heart I bless,And wreck that life that lives in stubbornness.For that there is, even in a great God's mind,That hungereth for the praise of human kind.

So runs my word; and soon the very deedShall follow. For this Prince of Theseus' seed,Hippolytus, child of that dead Amazon,And reared by saintly Pittheus in his ownStrait ways, hath dared, alone of all Trozên,To hold me least of spirits and most mean,And spurns my spell and seeks no woman's kiss,But great Apollo's sister, Artemis,He holds of all most high, gives love and praise,And through the wild dark woods for ever strays,He and the Maid together, with swift houndsTo slay all angry beasts from out these bounds,To more than mortal friendship consecrate!

I grudge it not. No grudge know I, nor hate;Yet, seeing he hath offended, I this dayShall smite Hippolytus. Long since my wayWas opened, nor needs now much labour more.

For once from Pittheus' castle to the shoreOf Athens came Hippolytus over-seasSeeking the vision of the Mysteries.And Phaedra there, his father's Queen high-born;Saw him, and as she saw, her heart was tornWith great love, by the working of my will.And for his sake, long since, on Pallas' hill,Deep in the rock, that Love no more might roam,She built a shrine, and named it Love-at-home:And the rock held it, but its face alwaySeeks Trozên o'er the seas. Then came the dayWhen Theseus, for the blood of kinsmen shed,Spake doom of exile on himself, and fled,Phaedra beside him, even to this Trozên.And here that grievous and amazed Queen,Wounded and wondering, with ne'er a word,Wastes slowly; and her secret none hath heardNor dreamed.

But never thus this love shall end!To Theseus' ear some whisper will I send,And all be bare! And that proud Prince, my foe,His sire shall slay with curses. Even soEndeth that boon the great Lord of the MainTo Theseus gave, the Three Prayers not in vain.

And she, not in dishonour, yet shall die.I would not rate this woman's pain so highAs not to pay mine haters in full feeThat vengeance that shall make all well with me.

But soft, here comes he, striding from the chase,Our Prince Hippolytus!--I will go my ways.--And hunters at his heels: and a loud throngGlorying Artemis with praise and song!Little he knows that Hell's gates opened are,And this his last look on the great Day-star!(APHRODITE withdraws, unseen by HIPPOLYTUS and a band of huntsmen, who enter from the left, singing. They pass the Statue of APHRODITE without notice.)

HIPPOLYTUS.Follow, O follow me,Singing on your waysHer in whose hand are we,Her whose own flock we be,The Zeus-Child, the Heavenly;To Artemis be praise!

HUNTSMAN.Hail to thee, Maiden blest,Proudest and holiest:God's Daughter, great in bliss,Leto-born, Artemis!Hail to thee, Maiden, farFairest of all that are,Yea, and most high thine home,Child of the Father's hall;Hear, O most virginal,Hear, O most fair of all,In high God's golden dome.

(The huntsmen have gathered about the altar of ARTEMIS. HIPPOLYTUS now advances from them, and approaches the Statue with a wreath in his hand.)

HIPPOLYTUS.To thee this wreathed garland, from a greenAnd virgin meadow bear I, O my Queen,Where never shepherd leads his grazing ewesNor scythe has touched. Only the river dewsGleam, and the spring bee sings, and in the gladeHath Solitude her mystic garden made.No evil hand may cull it: only heWhose heart hath known the heart of Purity,Unlearned of man, and true whate'er befall.Take therefore from pure hands this coronal,O mistress loved, thy golden hair to twine.For, sole of living men, this grace is mine,To dwell with thee, and speak, and hear repliesOf voice divine, though none may see thine eyes.Oh, keep me to the end in this same road!(An OLD HUNTSMAN, who has stood apart from the rest, here comes up to HIPPOLYTUS.)

HUNTSMAN.My Prince--for "Master" name I none but God--Gave I good counsel, wouldst thou welcome it?

HIPPOLYTUS.Right gladly, friend; else were I poor of wit.

HUNTSMAN.Knowest thou one law, that through the world has won?

HIPPOLYTUS.What wouldst thou? And how runs thy law? Say on.

HUNTSMAN.It hates that Pride that speaks not all men fair!

HIPPOLYTUS.And rightly. Pride breeds hatred everywhere.

HUNTSMAN.And good words love, and grace in all men's sight?

HIPPOLYTUS.Aye, and much gain withal, for trouble slight.

HUNTSMAN.How deem'st thou of the Gods? Are they the same?

HIPPOLYTUS.Surely: we are but fashioned on their frame.

HUNTSMAN.Why then wilt thou be proud, and worship not ...

HIPPOLYTUS.Whom? If the name be speakable, speak out!

HUNTSMAN.She stands here at thy gate: the Cyprian Queen!

HIPPOLYTUS.I greet her from afar: my life is clean.

HUNTSMAN.Clean? Nay, proud, proud; a mark for all to scan!

HIPPOLYTUS.Each mind hath its own bent, for God or man.

HUNTSMAN.God grant thee happiness ... and wiser thought!

HIPPOLYTUS.These Spirits that reign in darkness like me not.

HUNTSMAN.What the Gods ask, O Son, that man must pay!

HIPPOLYTUS (turning from him to the others).On, huntsmen, to the Castle! Make your wayStraight to the feast room; 'tis a merry thingAfter the chase, a board of banqueting.And see the steeds be groomed, and in arrayThe chariot dight. I drive them forth to-day(He pauses, and makes a slight gesture of reverence to the Statue on the left. Then to the OLD HUNTSMAN.)That for thy Cyprian, friend, and nought beside!(HIPPOLYTUS follows the huntsmen, who stream by the central door in the Castle. The OLD HUNTSMAN remains.)

HUNTSMAN (approaching the Statue and kneeling).O Cyprian--for a young man in his prideI will not follow!--here before thee, meek,In that one language that a slave may speak,I pray thee; Oh, if some wild heart in frothOf youth surges against thee, be not wrothFor ever! Nay, be far and hear not then:Gods should be gentler and more wise than men!(He rises and follows the others into the Castle.)