120
Will these awkward scruples always hold you back?
Will these awkward scruples always hold you back?
Racine - Phaedra
95
Is my humiliation the gods concern?
My cowardly sighs are the more contemptible,
Since glory renders Theseus excusable:
Because as yet myself I've tamed no monsters,
I've acquired no right to imitate his failures. 100
And even if my pride could be sweetened more,
Would I choose Aricia as my conqueror?
Is my mind so lost it no longer remembers
The eternal obstacle that separates us?
My father disapproves: and laws most severe 105
Prevent him granting nephews to her brothers:
He fears the offspring born of a guilty strain:
He'd like to bury their sister and their name,
Submit her to his guardianship till the grave,
Ensure that for her no wedding torches blaze. 110
Should I flaunt her rights against an angry father?
Shall I set an example in my rashness, rather?
And let my youth embark on a mad affair. . .
Theramenes
Oh! My lord, once our fate is written there,
Heaven knows not to inquire into our reasons. 115
Theseus opened your eyes so he might close them,
Yet his hatred, exciting a rebellious flame,
Lends new grace to his enemy all the same.
Why be frightened of a love, though, that's so chaste?
If it possesses sweetness, won't you dare to taste?
120
Will these awkward scruples always hold you back?
Do you fear to lose yourself on Hercules' track?
Of what brave men has Venus not been conqueror!
Where would you be, now, you who fight against her,
If Antiope, opposed to her laws forever, 125
Hadn't burnt for Theseus with modest ardour?
But what use is it to affect a proud display?
Confess, and all will change: for many a day
We've seen you infrequently, unsociable, proud,
Now driving your chariot along the coast road, 130
Now, skilled in the art Neptune himself made plain,
Breaking an untamed stallion to the rein.
The forests ring out less often to our cries.
Filled with secret fire, there's heaviness in your eyes.
There's no longer any doubt: you love, you burn: 135
You are dying of an illness you disguise in turn.
Or has lovely Aricia pleased you, rather?
Hippolytus
Theramenes, I am leaving, to seek my father.
Theramenes
Will you not see Phaedra again, before you go,
My lord?
Hippolytus
That's my intent: you may tell her so. 140
I'll see her, since my duty demands of it me.
(Oenone enters. )
But what new trouble disturbs dear Oenone?
Is my humiliation the gods concern?
My cowardly sighs are the more contemptible,
Since glory renders Theseus excusable:
Because as yet myself I've tamed no monsters,
I've acquired no right to imitate his failures. 100
And even if my pride could be sweetened more,
Would I choose Aricia as my conqueror?
Is my mind so lost it no longer remembers
The eternal obstacle that separates us?
My father disapproves: and laws most severe 105
Prevent him granting nephews to her brothers:
He fears the offspring born of a guilty strain:
He'd like to bury their sister and their name,
Submit her to his guardianship till the grave,
Ensure that for her no wedding torches blaze. 110
Should I flaunt her rights against an angry father?
Shall I set an example in my rashness, rather?
And let my youth embark on a mad affair. . .
Theramenes
Oh! My lord, once our fate is written there,
Heaven knows not to inquire into our reasons. 115
Theseus opened your eyes so he might close them,
Yet his hatred, exciting a rebellious flame,
Lends new grace to his enemy all the same.
Why be frightened of a love, though, that's so chaste?
If it possesses sweetness, won't you dare to taste?
120
Will these awkward scruples always hold you back?
Do you fear to lose yourself on Hercules' track?
Of what brave men has Venus not been conqueror!
Where would you be, now, you who fight against her,
If Antiope, opposed to her laws forever, 125
Hadn't burnt for Theseus with modest ardour?
But what use is it to affect a proud display?
Confess, and all will change: for many a day
We've seen you infrequently, unsociable, proud,
Now driving your chariot along the coast road, 130
Now, skilled in the art Neptune himself made plain,
Breaking an untamed stallion to the rein.
The forests ring out less often to our cries.
Filled with secret fire, there's heaviness in your eyes.
There's no longer any doubt: you love, you burn: 135
You are dying of an illness you disguise in turn.
Or has lovely Aricia pleased you, rather?
Hippolytus
Theramenes, I am leaving, to seek my father.
Theramenes
Will you not see Phaedra again, before you go,
My lord?
Hippolytus
That's my intent: you may tell her so. 140
I'll see her, since my duty demands of it me.
(Oenone enters. )
But what new trouble disturbs dear Oenone?
