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Translated by E. Coleridge.
61 pages - You are on Page 6
Leader: My son, we should avail us of the gifts that gods confer.
Hippolytus: Go in, my faithful followers, and make ready food within
the house; a well-filled board hath charms after the chase is o'er.
Rub down my steeds ye must, that when I have had my fill I may yoke
them to the chariot and give them proper exercise. As for thy Queen
of Love, a long farewell to her. (Hippolytus goes into the palace,
followed by all the Attendants except the Leader, who prays before
the statue of Aphrodite.)
Leader: Meantime I with sober mind, for I must not copy my young master,
do offer up my prayer to thy image, lady Cypris, in such words as
it becomes a slave to use. But thou should'st pardon all, who, in
youth's impetuous heat, speak idle words of thee; make as though thou
hearest not, for gods must needs be wiser than the sons of men. (The
Leader goes into the palace. The Chorus of Troezenian Women enters.)
Chorus: (singing, strophe 1)
A rock there is, where, as they say, the ocean dew distils, and from
its beetling brow it pours a copious stream for pitchers to be dipped
therein; 'twas here I had a friend washing robes of purple in the
trickling stream, and she was spreading them out on the face of warm
sunny rock; from her I had the tidings, first of all, that my mistress-
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