Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1894) v1.djvu/167

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HIPPOLYTUS.
131
(Ant. 1) For a tale they told of a fevered bed, of the feet that forth of her bower ne'er tread,    Of the dainty-woven veil that is cast   For a darkness over the tresses golden.    Yea, and by this hath the third day past   That the queen from her fainting lips hath withholden      The gift of the Lady of Corn,Keeping her body thereof unfed, as though 'twere pollution to taste of bread,   With anguish unuttered longing forlorn140      One haven to win—death's bourn.(Str. 2)    O queen, what if this be possession    Of Pan or of Hekatê?—     Of the Mother of Dindymus' Hill?—     Or the awful Corybant thrill?—   Or Dictynna hath found transgression    Of offerings unrendered in thee—     If the hand of the Huntress be here?—     For she flasheth o'er mountain and mere,   And rideth her triumph-procession150    Over surges and swirls of the sea.(Ant. 2)    Or thy princely lord, in whose leading    Be the hosts of Erechtheus' race,     Hath one in his halls beguiled,     That thy couch is in secret defiled?   Or hath some sea-trafficker, speeding    From Crete over watery ways     To the haven where shipmen would be,     Brought dolorous tidings to thee
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