Me go through fire, and serried ranks of foes, 615
I would not hesitate to bare my breast
Unto the naked swords. Take thou the power
Which was consigned to me. Make me thy slave.
Rule thou the state, and let me subject be.
It is no woman's task to guard this realm
Of many towns. Do thou, who in the flower 620
Of youth rejoicest, rule the citizens
With strong paternal sway. But me receive
Into thy arms, and there protect thy slave
And suppliant. My widowhood relieve.
Hippolytus: May God on high this omen dark avert!
My father will in safety soon return.
Phaedra: Not so: the king of that fast-holding realm 625
And silent Styx has never opened back
The doors of earth to those who once have left
The realms above. Think'st thou that he will loose
The ravisher of his couch? Unless, indeed,
Grim Pluto has at last grown mild to love.
Hippolytus: The righteous gods of heaven will bring him back.
But while the gods still hold our prayers in doubt, 630
My brothers will I make my pious care,
And thee as well. Think not thou art bereft;
For I will fill for thee my father's place.
Phaedra [aside]: Oh, hope of lovers, easily beguiled!
Deceitful love! Has he[1] not said enough? 635
I'll ply him now with prayers.
[To Hippolytus.]
Oh, pity me.
Hear thou the prayers which I must only think.
I long to utter them, but am ashamed.
Hippolytus: What is thy trouble then?
Phaedra: A trouble mine,
Which thou wouldst scarce believe could vex the soul
Of any stepdame.
Hippolytus: Speak more openly;
In doubtful words thy meaning thou dost wrap.
Phaedra: My maddened heart with burning love is scorched; 640
- ↑ Reading, dixit.
