Page:Poems and ballads (IA poemsballads00swinrich).pdf/49

PHÆDRA.

HIPPOLYTUS; PHÆDRA; CHORUS OF TRŒZENIAN
WOMEN.

HIPPOLYTUS.

Lay not thine hand upon me; let me go;

Take off thine eyes that put the gods to shame;
What, wilt thou turn my loathing to thy death?

PHÆDRA

Nay, I will never loosen hold nor breathe

Till thou have slain me; godlike for great brows
Thou art, and thewed as gods are, with clear hair:
Draw now thy sword and smite me as thou art god,
For verily I am smitten of other gods,
Why not of thee?

CHORUS

O queen, take heed of words;

Why wilt thou eat the husk of evil speech?
Wear wisdom for that veil about thy head
And goodness for the binding of thy brows.