Chorus
O Love, Love, that from the eyes diffusest soft desire, bringing on the souls of those, whom thou dost camp against, sweet grace, O never in evil mood appear to me, nor out of time and tune approach! Nor fire nor meteor hurls a mightier bolt than Aphrodite’s shaft shot by the hands of Love, the child of Zeus.
Chorus
Idly, idly by the streams of Alpheus and in the Pythian shrines of Phoebus, Hellas heaps the slaughtered steers; while Love we worship not, Love, the king of men, who holds the key to Aphrodite’s sweetest bower,—worship not him who, when he comes, lays waste and marks his path to mortal hearts by wide-spread woe.
Chorus
There was that maiden in Oechalia, a girl unwed, that knew no wooer yet nor married joys; her did the queen of Love snatch from her home across the sea and gave unto Alcmena’s son, mid blood and smoke and murderous marriage-hymns, to be to him a frantic fiend of hell; woe! woe for his wooing!
Chorus
Ah! holy walls of Thebes, ah! fount of Dirce, ye could testify what course the love-queen follows. For with the blazing levin-bolt did she cut short the fatal marriage of Semele, mother of Zeus-bom Bacchus. All things she doth inspire, dread goddess, winging her flight hither and thither like a bee.
Phaedra Peace, ladies, peace! I am undone.
Chorus What, Phaedra, is this dread event within thy house?
Phaedra Hush! let me hear what those within are saying.
Chorus I am silent; this is surely the prelude to mischief.
Phaedra Great gods! how awful are my sufferings!
Chorus
What a cry was there! what loud alarm! say what sudden terror, lady, doth thy soul dismay.
Phaedra
I am undone. Stand here at the door and hear the noise arising in the house.
Chorus
Thou art already by the bolted door; ’tis for thee to note the sounds that issue from within. And tell me, O tell me what mischief can be on foot.
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