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HIPPOLYTUS: THE DOOM OF HIPPOLYTUS, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: So we, no distance from the sea-wet shore
Last Line: Is hidden, I know not where, among the rocks.


SO we, no distance from the sea-wet shore,
Were smoothing out with combs our horses' manes,
And weeping. For a courier came to say
That in this land Hippolytus should no more
Set foot, condemned to sad exile by you.
Himself then came to us upon the shore
With tears to that same tune. A countless host
Of friends and comrades followed in his train,
And, when the lamentation ceased, he spoke:
'Why am I thus distraught? I must obey
My father's words. Slaves, yoke my horses up.
This city now no more belongs to me.'
Then straightway every man bestirred himself,
And, quicker than a man could speak, we set
His horses ready at our master's side.
He caught the reins up from the chariot-rail
And firmly on the foot-board set his feet:
Then first with outspread hands he called the gods:
'Zeus, let me die if I am base of heart.
And let my father know he does me wrong,
Whether I die or still look on the light.'
With this he took the goad in hand and urged
His horses on together. We, his men,
Followed our master's lead, beside the reins,
For Argos on the Epidaurian road.
And when we struck into a desolate place, --
There lies beyond the frontier of this land
A shore that faces the Saronic Sea, --
There came a sound, as if within the earth
Zeus' hollow thunder boomed, awful to hear.
The horses lifted heads towards the sky
And pricked their ears; while strange fear fell on us,
Whence came the voice. To the sea-beaten shore
We looked, and saw a monstrous wave that soared
Into the sky, so lofty that my eyes
Were robbed of seeing the Scironian cliffs.
It hid the Isthmus and Asclepius' rock.
Then seething up and bubbling all about
With foaming flood and breath from the deep sea,
Shoreward it came to where the chariot stood.
And with the billow at the third wave's break
The sea gave up a bull, a monstrous brute.
His bellowing filled the land, whose answering voice
Set all a-shuddering, for we saw a sight
That seemed too horrible for human gaze.
At once a fearful panic took the team.
Our master, long conversant with the ways
Of horses, snatched the reins up in his hands,
And pulled, as pulls a sailor at the oar,
Fast'ning the leather reins behind his back.
They took the fire-made bits between their teeth
And bolted, with no heed of steering hands,
No heed of harness or the jointed car.
But, if towards the smooth part of the ground
He held his course and steered a passage straight,
Before him It was there, and turned him back, --
The bull, -- and drove his horses mad with fear.
And if he swept in frenzy to the rocks,
Silent it followed by the chariot-wheel,
Until he struck his axle on a crag
And tripped and overturned his chariot.
Then all was ruin. Up the wheel-naves shot
Above the wheels, and out the linch-pins fell.
Himself, poor wretch, entangled in the reins
Was dragged, fast in the indissoluble bonds;
His dear head thudding down upon the rocks,
His flesh all torn, his cries most pitiful:
'My horses, stop, whom my own mangers fed,
You smash me. . . . O my father's fatal curse!
Who here will save a man most innocent?'
Though many wished, our steps were slow, and we
Were far behind. Some way, I know not how,
He slipped the bondage of the shapen reins
And fell, still breathing with a little life.
The horses disappeared, and the fell bull
Is hidden, I know not where, among the rocks.





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