The bisons, shaggy backed, and the wild,
Broad-hornéd oxen of the woods. 65
Whatever feeds upon the plains
In desert pasture lands; whate'er
The needy Garamantian knows,
Whate'er the Arab rich in woods,
Or wild Sarmatian, wandering free
Across the lonely wilderness; 70
Whate'er the rugged Pyrenees
Or deep Hyrcanian glades conceal:
All fear thy bow, thou huntress queen.
If any worshiper of thine
Takes to the hunt thy favoring will,
His nets hold fast the struggling prey; 75
No birds break from his snares; for him
The groaning wagons homeward come
With booty rich; the hounds come back
With muzzles deeply dyed in blood,
And all the rustic throng returns
In shouting triumph home. 80
But lo, the goddess hears. The hounds
Are baying loud and clear to announce
The start. I'm summoned to the woods.
Here, here I'll hasten where the road
Most quickly leads away.
[Exit.]
Phaedra: O mighty Crete, thou mistress of the deep, 85
Whose ships uncounted sail through every sea
Wherever Nereus shows their beaks the way,
E'en to Assyria's shores; why dost thou here
Compel me thus in woe and tears to live,
A hostage given to the hated foe, 90
And to a foeman wed? Behold my lord,
Deserting me, his bride, is far away,
And keeps his wonted faith. Through shadows deep
Of that dark pool which may not be recrossed,
This doughty follower of a madcap prince
Has gone, that from the very throne of Dis 95
