Hippolytus (675-705)

What god will appear to help me, what mortal to take my part or help me in unrighteousness? The present calamity of my life admits of no escape. Most hapless I of all my sex!

Alas, alas! the deed is done, thy servant’s schemes have gone awry, my queen, and all is lost.

Accursed woman! traitress to thy friends! How hast thou ruined me! May Zeus, my ancestor, smite thee with his fiery bolt and uproot thee from thy place.

Did I not foresee thy purpose, did I not bid thee keep silence on the very matter which is now my shame? But thou wouldst not be still; wherefore my fair name will not go with me to the tomb. But now I must another scheme devise. Yon youth, in the keenness of his fury,

will tell his father of my sin, and the aged Pittheus of my state, and fill the world with stories to my shame. Perdition seize thee and every meddling fool who by dishonest means would serve unwilling friends!

Mistress, thou may’st condemn the mischief I have done, for sorrow’s sting o’ermasters thy judgment; yet can I answer thee in face of this, if thou wilt hear. ’Twas I who nurtured thee; I love thee still; but in my search for medicine to cure thy sickness I found what least I sought.

Had I but succeeded, I had been counted wise, for the credit we get for wisdom is measured by our success.

Is it just, is it any satisfaction to me, that thou shouldst wound me first, then bandy[*] words with me?

We dwell on this too long; I was not wise, I own;

but there are yet ways of escape from the trouble, my child.