Hippolytus (455-516)

how the bright-eyed goddess of the Dawn once stole Cephalus to dwell in heaven for the love she bore him; yet these in heaven abide nor shun the gods’ approach, content, I trow, to yield to their misfortune.

Wilt thou refuse to yield? thy sire, it seems, should have begotten thee on special terms

or with different gods for masters, if in these laws thou wilt not acquiesce. How many, prithee, men of sterling sense, when they see their wives unfaithful, make as though they saw it not? How many fathers, when their sons have gone astray,

assist them in their amours? ’tis part of human wisdom to conceal the deed of shame. Nor should man aim at excessive refinement in his life; for[*] they cannot with exactness finish

e’en the roof that covers in a house; and how dost thou, after falling into so deep a pit, think to escape? Nay, if thou hast more of good than bad, thou wilt fare exceeding well, thy human nature considered.

O cease, my darling child, from evil thoughts, let wanton pride be gone, for this is naught else,

this wish to rival gods in perfectness. Face thy love; ’tis heaven’s will thou shouldst. Sick thou art, yet turn thy sickness to some happy issue. For there are charms and spells to soothe the soul; surely some cure for thy disease will be found.

Men, no doubt, might seek it long and late if our women’s minds no scheme devise.

Although she gives thee at thy present need the wiser counsel, Phaedra, yet do I praise thee. Still my praise may sound more harsh

and jar more cruelly on thy ear than her advice.

’Tis even this, too plausible a tongue, that overthrows good governments and homes of men. We should not speak to please the ear but point the path that leads to noble fame.

What means this solemn speech? No need of rounded phrases;[*] but at once must we sound the prince, telling him frankly how it is with thee. Had not thy life to such a crisis come,[*] or wert thou with self-control endowed,

ne’er would I to gratify thy passions have urged thee to this course; but now ’tis a struggle fierce to save thy life, and therefore less to blame.

Accursed proposal! peace, woman! never utter those shameful words again!

Shameful, maybe, yet for thee better than honour’s code. Better this deed, if it shall save thy life, than that name thy pride will kill thee to retain.

I conjure thee, go no further! for thy words are plausible but infamous; for though as yet

love has not[*] undermined my soul, yet, if in specious words thou dress thy foul suggestion, I shall be beguiled into the snare from which I am now escaping.

If thou art of this mind, ’twere well thou ne’er hadst sinned; but as it is, hear me; for that is the next best course; I in my house have charms

to soothe thy love,—’twas but now I thought of them;—these shall cure thee of thy sickness on no disgraceful terms, thy mind unhurt, if thou wilt be but brave.

But from him thou lovest we must get some token, a word or fragment of his robe,

and thereby unite in one love’s twofold stream.[*]

Is thy drug a salve or potion?