Racine: Phaedra

PH^DRA 371
Scene VI.
Theseus, Theramenes.
Theseus.—Theramenes, is 't thou ? Where is my son ?
I gave him to thy charge from tenderest childhood.
But whence these tears that overflow thine eyes?
How is it with my son ?
Theramenes.— Concern too late!
Affection vain ! Hippolytus is dead.
Theseus.—Gods
Theramenes.— I have seen the flow'r of all mankind
Cut off, and I am bold to say that none
Deserved it less.
Theseus.— What! My son dead! When I
Was stretching out my arms to him, has Heav'n
Hasten'd-his end? What was this sudden stroke?
Theramenes.—Scarce had we pass'd out of the gates of
Troezen,
He silent in his chariot, and his guards,
Downcast and silent too, around him ranged
To the Mycenian road he turn'd his steeds,
Then, lost in thought, allow'd the reins to He
Loose on their backs. His noble chargers, erst
So full of ardor to obey his voice,
With head depress'd and melancholy eye
Seem'd now to mark his sadness and to share it.
A frightful cry, that issues from the deep,
With sudden discord rends the troubled air
And from the bosom of the earth a groan l^
Is heard in answer to that voice of terror. j .
Our blood is frozen at our very hearts ;
With bristling manes the list'ning steeds stand still.
Meanwhile upon the watery plain there rises
A mountain billow with a mighty crest
Of foam, that shoreward rolls, and, as it breaks,
Before our eyes vomits a furious monster.
With formidable horns its brow is arm'd,
And all its body clothed with yellow scales,
» In front a savage bull, behind a dragon
^