The Greek Plays
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Say something! Look at me! (to the Chorus) Oh, misery,
women, there’s no point to this effort.
We’re no closer than before. No words
touched her then, and still she is unmoved.
(to Phaedra) You know, don’t you—if you die, you betray
your sons?*30 To that be as indifferent as the sea!
They’ll have no place in their father’s house,
I swear by the Amazon queen, rider of stallions.*31
She bore a master for your sons, a bastard
who thinks he’s legitimate. You know him well,
Hippolytus
PHAEDRA: oimoi!—
310
NURSE: This touches you?
PHAEDRA: You’ve ruined me, nurse. By the gods,
I beg you, be silent about that man.
NURSE: See? You’re perfectly sane but, even so,
unwilling to help your sons and save your life.
PHAEDRA: I love my sons, but I’m racked by another storm.
NURSE: Surely your hands aren’t stained with blood?
PHAEDRA: My hands, no, but my mind’s—polluted.
NURSE: You don’t mean by an enemy’s curse?
PHAEDRA: Someone dear destroys me, against his will and mine.
320
NURSE: Has Theseus done you some wrong?
PHAEDRA: May I not be seen to do him wrong!
NURSE: What awful thing drives you to death?
PHAEDRA: I’m not wronging you, so let me go wrong.
NURSE: Not willingly. It’s you who’ll make me fail.
(The nurse falls at Phaedra’s feet and grasps her knees and hands in supplication.)*32
PHAEDRA: What are you doing? You force me by grasping my hand?
NURSE: Yes, and your knees. I won’t let go.
PHAEDRA: Terrible for you, terrible if you learn—
NURSE: What could be worse than failing to reach you?
PHAEDRA: Your ruin. As it is, I’m gaining honor.
330
NURSE: That’s why you hide it, when I beg?
PHAEDRA: Yes, I’m making an ugly thing noble.
NURSE: Then by telling you’ll appear more noble!
PHAEDRA: By the gods, let go my right hand.
NURSE: No, for you don’t give me what you should.
PHAEDRA: I will, for I revere your suppliant hand.
NURSE: Now I’ll be silent and you can speak.
PHAEDRA: Oh, Mother, miserable, what passion you felt—*33
NURSE: For the bull, child? What do you mean?
PHAEDRA: And you, wretched sister, bride of Dionysus—
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NURSE: Child, what’s wrong? Why insult your family?
PHAEDRA: And I’m the third to die in misery.
NURSE: I’m at sea—where will this story end?
PHAEDRA: My misfortune started then, not just now.
NURSE: I’m no wiser about the thing I want to hear.
PHAEDRA: pheu!
Could you somehow say for me what I must say?
NURSE: I’m no prophet, able to see what’s invisible.
PHAEDRA: What is it they call “being in love”?
NURSE: The sweetest thing, child, but full of pain.
PHAEDRA: Yes, mine would be the painful kind.
350
NURSE: What do you mean? You’re in love? With whom?
PHAEDRA: Whoever he is, the son of the Amazon—
NURSE: Hippolytus?
PHAEDRA: You spoke his name, not I.
NURSE: oimoi, child, what can you mean? You’ve ruined me.
(to the Chorus) Women, I can’t bear it, I won’t endure it
and live. Hateful day, light hateful to my eyes!
I’ll jump, hurl my body down, be released
from this life. Farewell! I am no more.
Not when the chaste are in love with evil—
against their will but still—Cypris is no god,
360
she’s something more than a god, if she brings
destruction to this house, this woman and me.
(The Nurse has fallen to the ground and remains there while Phaedra addresses the Chorus. The Chorus sing in the excited dochmiac rhythm.)*34
CHORUS: Do you see, oh,
do you hear
the queen weep
for calamity woeful beyond words?
I would die, dear one, before
I thought your thoughts, iō moi pheu pheu,
wretched as you are in your pain!
What agonies attend a mortal life!
Your ruin: you revealed your trouble to the light.
What waits for you in the hours of this day?
370
Something new will find its end here.
Now there are signs where it will finish,
this calamity Cypris made, oh, wretched child of Crete.
(Phaedra gets up from her bed, uncovers her head, and addresses the Chorus. The Nurse remains huddled on the ground but slowly, during Phaedra’s speech, regains her composure, gets up, and listens.)
PHAEDRA: Women of Troezen, you make your home
here at the edge of the land of Pelops.
Here in different times, during the long stretch
of the night, I’ve considered how a human life
goes wrong. It’s not, I think, their minds
that make men blunder. Most are capable
of sound thinking. But look at it this way:
380
we know what’s right, we recognize it,
but we don’t do it. Some from laziness,
others from putting another pleasure
before the good. And there are many:
long, lazy talks, empty time (a dangerous joy),
and aidōs.*35 Of this there are two kinds:
one good, the other a plague. If it were clear
in each situation what’s apt and right,
one word wouldn’t stand for two different things.*36
This is what I think; there’s no magic charm
390
to change my mind or alter my point of view.
I’ll tell you, too, the path my purpose took.
When Eros*37 wounded me, I sought the best way
to bear it bravely. And so I began with this:
I kept silent. I hid my disease.
One cannot trust the tongue: it knows
how to give advice to others but gets
only the greatest disaster for itself.
And then I planned to bear my insanity
nobly, by overcoming it with restraint.
400
But when I didn’t succeed in controlling
Cypris this way, I made up my mind to die—
my best plan, no one will deny it.
For it is my wish my good deeds never go
unnoticed, but no one ever witness the base ones.
I knew the disease—let alone the act—was
a disgrace. I also knew, because I’m a woman,
I am an object of everyone’s hatred. I curse
the first woman who shamed her marriage bed
with strangers. This evil had its beginning
410
with women from noble households;
when ugliness is beautiful to the well-born,
how much more so will it seem to others!
I despise, too, women chaste by reputation
but possessed in secret by lustful daring.
O Cypris, lady and mistress, how do wives
like that look their husbands in the eye?
Why don’t they dread the darkness, their accomplice,
and fear the very walls will learn to speak?
I’ll die, friends, before I’m caught
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ever bringing shame to my husband
or my children. May they flourish
in famous Athens, free to speak their minds,
with the fine reputation their mother gave them.*38
A man, even one with true grit, turns slavish
when a parent’s wrongdoing is on his mind.
One thing alone gives advantage in life:
the presence of a just and good mind.
Sooner or later evil men are revealed,
when time holds up his mirror to them
430
as to a young girl. May I never be one of them.
CHORUS: pheu, pheu. Everywhere a sound mind reaps
goodness and a fine reputation among men.
NURSE: Lady, it’s true, your misfortune struck me
at first with a sudden, terrible fear.
But now I realize I was a fool; somehow
mortals’ second thoughts are wiser.
There’s nothing untoward, nothing strange
in your feelings; a goddess has visited her rage
on you. You’re in love—why the amazement?
440
Many of us are. For this you’ll ruin your life?
It’s not good news for lovers, alive now
or in the future, if they must die for love.
When Cypris rushes at you, you can’t withstand her.
She goes gently after the one who yields,
but the one who’s fanatic and stubbornly proud
she attacks with a violence you can’t imagine.
She travels through the air, and she’s there
in the sea waves; all things come from her.
She’s the one who sows desire; it’s her gift,
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and all of us on this earth descend from it.
Whoever has read the old stories,
or whoever does the Muses’ work,
knows that Zeus once loved Semele,
and Dawn in all her light’s beauty
took Cephalus away to be with the gods
out of passion.*39 But Zeus and Dawn live on
in heaven; they don’t run away from other gods.
They accept, I think, that they’re the victims
of misfortune. But you won’t tolerate it?
460
Your father should’ve brokered special rules for you,
arranged for different gods to reign, if you won’t
accept these laws. How many men of good sense
see proof of their wives’ infidelity
and pretend not to? How many fathers pander
to a son’s escapades with Cypris? It shows
a person’s wisdom to keep wrongdoing hidden.
Men shouldn’t strain to perfect their lives,
no more than a carpenter can fit a roof
to cover a house exactly. When you plunge deep
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into ruin, as you have, how can you swim out?
But if you salvage more good than bad,
you’re doing very well, by human standards.
Dear child, let go your wrong thinking,
put a stop to your arrogance. It’s nothing else
but arrogance to want to defeat a god.
Endure your passion. It is god’s will.
When you’re ill, seek a cure that works.
There are incantations and soothing words;
some cure for your illness will come to light.
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We’d wait forever for men to find the means,
if we women didn’t discover them ourselves.
CHORUS: Phaedra, her words perform a useful service
in your current trouble, but it’s you I praise.
And yet my praise creates more trouble
and more pain for you to hear than her words.
PHAEDRA: This is what destroys the fine cities
and homes of mortals: words spoken too well.
One must not speak words that please the ear
but ones that will make a good reputation.
490
NURSE: Why so pompous? You don’t need
decorous words; you need the man.
Let’s be clear now and speak the facts.
If your life were not in such crisis, if
you were a woman with self-control,
I wouldn’t have brought you to this point
just to serve your pleasure in bed. But we’re
struggling for your life. No one can blame us.
PHAEDRA: Terrible words! Seal your lips! Never
again utter these ugly words!
500
NURSE: Ugly perhaps, but better for you than
nice ones. Rather the act that saves you
than a name you take pride in and die.
PHAEDRA: Oh, please, no more, I beg you. You speak
what’s ugly so well. Passion makes me ready
to hear: speak of ugliness with skill
and the very thing I flee will consume me.
NURSE: All right, no more of that. It would be best
if you hadn’t gone wrong but, since you have,
give me your trust, a favor that’s second best.
510
I have love potions in the house—
I’ve just remembered. They’ll end your illness
without shame, without disturbing your mind,
if you’re brave. We need a lock of hair,
a piece of clothing from the one you desire.
We’ll take and mingle the two in a single blessing.
PHAEDRA: Is the potion an ointment or a drink?
NURSE: I don’t know. It’s help, not knowledge, you need, child.
PHAEDRA: I fear you’ll be too clever for me.
NURSE: You fear everything; what scares you now?
520
PHAEDRA: You might reveal something to Theseus’ son.
NURSE: Never fear, child. I’ll put all to rights.
(The Nurse addresses the statue of Aphrodite at the entrance of the house as she prepares to go inside.)
This once, Cypris, lady and mistress,
be my ally. As for what else I have in mind,
it’ll be enough to tell our friends inside.
(The Nurse exits into the house, leaving Phaedra and the Chorus onstage. The Chorus sing and dance a hymn to Eros, god of love, son of Aphrodite and Zeus.)
strophe 1
CHORUS: Eros, Eros, you make desire flow
from lovers’ eyes, instill sweet pleasure
in the souls of those you attack.
Never come near to do me harm,
or break my life’s rhythm.
530
No flash of fire, no starbeam is stronger
than the shaft of Aphrodite
the hand of Eros, son of Zeus, lets fly.
antistrophe 1
In vain, in vain the Greek land
slaughters bull upon bull by the river Alpheus,
or in the precinct of the Pythia, priestess of Apollo.*40
To Eros we show no reverence.
He keeps the keys to Aphrodite’s chamber;
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he rules and ravages men,
hurls them, when he comes,
through every misfortune.
strophe 2
Young girl of Oechalia,*41
filly untamed, no man
in her bed, no marriage.
Cypris yoked her, drove her from Eurytus’ house,
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like a nymph on the run, a Bacchant.
In the smoke and blood
of a deadly wedding
Cypris gave her to Alcmene’s son,
a marriage to misery.
antistrophe 2
Walls of holy Thebes,
mouth of Dirce’s spring,
you could tell a tale
of the coming of Cypris: she gave a bride*42
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to lightning and thunder,
made her a bed of death,
mother of twice-born Bacchus.
Cypris breathes terror on all,
like a bee she darts about here and there.
(Phaedra has moved to the entrance of the house and has been straining to hear what is happening inside.)
PHAEDRA: Quiet, women! It’s done; the end is here!
CHORUS: What is it, Phaedra? Something dreadful?
PHAEDRA: Wait. Let me hear what they’re saying.
CHORUS: I’ll say nothing, but this isn’t a good beginning.
(After a pause while she listens, Phaedra cries out, and the Chorus respond in an excited song of dochmiacs. They continue to sing, while Phaedra responds in regular speech rhythms.)
PHAEDRA: iō moi, aiai
570
oh, misery, what I suffer!
CHORUS: What are you saying: what’s this cry?
Tell us the words that frighten you,
that rush over your mind.
(Phaedra gestures to the Chorus to come and listen with her at the door of the skēnē, but the Chorus remain in the orchestra.)
PHAEDRA: I’m destroyed. Stand here by the door;
listen to the din inside the house.
CHORUS: You’re there, by the door. You be the one
to give us the news.
580
Tell us, tell, what disaster has come.
PHAEDRA: Hippolytus, son of the Amazon, lover of horses,
is shouting cruel things at my nurse.
CHORUS: I hear a voice, nothing clear,
but his cry carries through the doors
where it reaches you, there.*43
PHAEDRA: What’s clear now are the names he calls her,
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“matchmaker of evil,” “betrayer of her master’s bed.”
CHORUS: ōmoi, so terrible! You are betrayed, dear one.
What will I do to help?
The secret is out, and you’re destroyed,
aiai, e, e, betrayed by one who loves you.
PHAEDRA: She has told my misfortune and ruined me;
from love she tried, but failed, to cure my sickness.
CHORUS: (speaking) What will you do now? There’s no way out.
PHAEDRA: I know only one way: to die right now.
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It’s the only cure for the pain I feel.
(Hippolytus bursts out from the house, followed by the Nurse. Phaedra remains hidden but able to hear throughout this encounter between Hippolytus and the Nurse.)
HIPPOLYTUS: Oh, Mother Earth, Sun in the open sky
what words I’ve heard, unspeakable words!
NURSE: Quiet, child. Someone might hear.
HIPPOLYTUS: I can’t hear terrible things and keep quiet.
(The Nurse attempts to grasp Hippolytus’ right arm in supplication.)
NURSE: Please, I beg you, by this right arm!
HIPPOLYTUS: Don’t touch me! Don’t grab my cloak!
(The Nurse falls at his feet to grasp his knees in supplication, but Hippolytus moves away.)