I pray thee turn that hate of thine my way, I hate not it nor anything of thine. Lo, maidens, how he burns about the brow, And draws the chafing sword-strap down his hand. What wilt thou do? wilt thou be worse than death? Be but as sweet as is the bitterest, The most dispiteous out of all the gods, I am well pleased. Lo, do I crave so much? I do but bid thee be unmerciful, Even the one thing thou art. Pity me not: Thou wert not quick to pity. Think of me As of a thing thy hounds are keen upon In the wet woods between the windy ways, And slay me for a spoil. This body of mine Is worth a wild beast's fell or hide of hair, And spotted deeper than a panther's grain. I were but dead if thou wert pure indeed; I pray thee by thy cold green holy crown And by the fillet-leaves of Artemis. Nay, but thou wilt not. Death is not like thee. Albeit men hold him worst of all the gods. For of all gods Death only loves not gifts,[1] Nor with burnt-offering nor blood-sacrifice Shalt thou do aught to get thee grace of him; He will have nought of altar and altar-song, And from him only of all the lords in heaven Persuasion turns a sweet averted mouth. But thou art worse: from thee with baffled breath Back on my lips my prayer falls like a blow, And beats upon them, dumb. What shall I say? There is no word I can compel thee with To do me good and slay me. But take heed; I say, be wary; look between thy feet, Lest a snare take them though the ground be good. HIPPOLYTUS. Shame may do most where fear is found most weak; That which for shame's sake yet I have not done, Shall it be done for fear's? Take thine own way; Better the foot slip than the whole soul swerve. PHÆDRA. The man is choice and exquisite of mouth; Yet in the end a curse shall curdle it. CHORUS. He goes with cloak upgathered to the lip, Holding his eye as with some ill in sight. PHÆDRA. A bitter ill he hath i' the way thereof, And it shall burn the sight out as with fire. CHORUS. Speak no such word whereto mischance is kin. PHÆDRA. Out of my heart and by fate's leave I speak. CHORUS. Set not thy heart to follow after fate. PHÆDRA.