Racine: Phaedra

242
CALDERON
My subjects—traitors therefore to this hour,
Who let me perish all my youth away
Chain'd there among the mountains ; till, forsooth.
Terrified at your treachery foregone,
You spirit me up here, I know not how,
Popinjay-like invest me like yourselves,
Choke me with scent and music that I loathe.
And, worse than all the music and the scent.
With false, long-winged, fulsome compliment,
That " Oh, you are my subjects 1 " and in word
Reiterating still obedience.
Thwart me in deed at every step I take
When just about to wreak a just revenge
Upon that old arch-traitor of you all.
Filch from my vengeance him I hate ; and him
I loved—the first and only face—till this
I cared to look on in your ugly court
And now when palpably I grasp at last
What hitherto but shadow'd in my dreams
Affiances and interferences.
The first who dares to meddle with me more
Princes and chamberlains and counsellors,
Touch her who dares !
AsTOLFO. That dare I
Segismund [seising him by the throat],—You dare!
Chamberlain.—My Lord !
A Lord.— His strength *s a lion's
Voices [within],— The King! The King!
Enter King.
A Lord.—And on a sudden how he stands at gaze,
As might a wolf just fasten'd on his prey.
Glaring at a suddenly encounter'd lion.
King.—And I that hither flew with open arms
To fold them round my son, must now return
To press them to an empty heart again
[He sits on the throne.
Segismund.—That is the King?—My father?
[After a long pause] I have heard
That sometimes some blind instinct has been known