HIPPOLYTUS 'Twas but my tongue, 'twas not my soul that swore. NURSE O Son, what wilt thou? Wilt thou slay thy kin? HIPPOLYTUS I own no kindred with the spawn of sin! [_He flings her from him_.] NURSE Nay, spare me! Man was born to err; oh, spare! HIPPOLYTUS O God, why hast Thou made this gleaming snare, Woman, to dog us on the happy earth? Was it Thy will to make Man, why his birth Through Love and Woman? Could we not have rolled Our store of prayer and offering, royal gold Silver and weight of bronze before Thy feet, And bought of God new child souls, as were meet For each man's sacrifice, and dwelt in homes Free, where nor Love nor Woman goes and comes How, is that daughter not a bane confessed, Whom her own sire sends forth--(He knows her best!)-- And, will some man but take her, pays a dower! And he, poor fool, takes home the poison-flower; Laughs to hang jewels on the deadly thing He joys in; labours for her robe-wearing, Till wealth and peace are dead. He smarts the less In whose high seat is set a Nothingness, A woman naught availing. Worst of all The wise deep-thoughted! Never in my hall May she sit throned who thinks and waits and sighs! For Cypris breeds most evil in the wise, And least in her whose heart has naught within; For puny wit can work but puny sin. Why do we let their handmaids pass the gate? Wild beasts were best, voiceless and fanged, to wait About their rooms, that they might speak with none, Nor ever hear one answering human tone! But now dark women in still chambers lay Plans that creep out into light of day On handmaids' lips--[_Turning to the_ NURSE.] As thine accursèd head Braved the high honour of my Father's bed. And came to traffic ... Our white torrent's spray Shall drench mine ears to wash those words away! And couldst thou dream that _I_ ...? I feel impure Still at the very hearing! Know for sure, Woman, naught but mine honour saves ye both. Hadst thou not trapped me with that guileful oath, No power had held me secret till the King Knew all! But now, while he is journeying, I too will go my ways and make no sound. And when he comes again, I shall be found Beside him, silent, watching with what grace Thou and thy mistress shall greet him face to face! Then shall I have the taste of it, and know What woman's guile is.--Woe upon you, woe! How can I too much hate you, while the ill Ye work upon the world grows deadlier still? Too much? Make woman pure, and wild Love tame, Or let me cry for ever on their shame! [_He goes off in fury to the left_. PHAEDRA _still cowering in her place begins to sob_.]