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Phaedra, sometimes known as Hippolytus is a play by Seneca the Younger, telling the story of Phaedra and her taboo love for her stepson Hippolytus. It is an adaptation of Hippolytus by Euripides; in Seneca's version, Phaedra is more sensual and shameless, deceiving her nurse in order to gain her as an accomplice.
According to Pierre Grimal, it seems that this work is the result of the "contamination" of several sources, including Sophocles (a lost tragedy), Lycophron and Ovid.
A Brief Biography of Seneca The Younger's Life Lucius Annaeus Seneca, known as Seneca or Seneca the Younger, was born in Corduba, Hispania c. 3 BCE, the third son to Helvia and Seneca the Elder, famous rhetorician. A young age he moved to Rome to live with his aunt, the spouse prefect Gaius Galerius. He received an education in philosophy at Sextii, which blended Stoicism and aesthetic neo-Pythagoreanism. It was at school that Seneca earned a reputation in oratory skills. After recovering from illness in Egypt, Seneca returned in 31 CE to Rome to start his profession in law and politics. While gaining prestige in the Roman courts, Seneca also wrote tragedies and essays. He was banished to Corsica after falling in ill-favor with Caligula in 39 CE with charges of adultery with Claudius’ niece, and then exiled by Claudius in 41 CE. During his exile he continued his studies and wrote 3 treatises entitled Consolationes. He returned to Rome in 49 C.E. by recommendation of Agrippina, wife of the Claudius. In 50 C.E., Seneca married Pompeia Paulina and then became praetor. Seneca was then appointed tutor to young Nero, which led to an unofficial appoint as chief minister. Credited with influencing a sound period of government during Nero’s early reign, his enemies however turned Nero against him, implying that his wealth and popularity posed a threat. He retired to private life in 62 CE, devoting his time to writing and philosophy. In 65 CE, accused of being involved in a plot against Nero, Seneca committed suicide.
Stoicism teaches that caustic sentiments are the products of error in judgment, and that the only people who were exempt from experiencing these emotions were sages, people who possessed moral and intellectual perfection. Stoics also concerned themselves with the energetic association of cosmic determinism and freedom, and believed it moral to uphold a will according to nature. Best indication for a person’s philosophy was expressed through his behavior. It was with these philosophical teachings that Seneca wrote his play, Phaedra. For the style of Stoic writing, Seneca created his main character with one obsession, her lust for Hippolytus, which would be her tragic emotion that produced an error in judgment and would lead to her downfall. Because Hippolytus’ drive to remain innocent and favorable to the gods, alienated himself from women, gluttony, etc. acts as an indication to rectify behavior and provides a polar opposite to tragic hero’s wrong doings.
Seneca’s Phaedra Lines 1-423
The play begins as Hippolytus, son of King Theseus of Athens, leaves his palace courts at the break of dawn with a group of hunters and hunting dogs. Hippolytus loves hunting. He asks Diana for guidance and issues orders to his company to scour the “forest glades” in search of the wild boar. After he goes, Phaedra, wife of Theseus and daughter of King Minos of Crete, appears in front of the palace, lamenting her fate. Her husband has been gone for years after having left with his old friend Pirithous to capture Persephone from the underworld. Phaedra has been left alone to take care of the palace, and has lately felt ill with some sickness. She finds herself unwilling to do her daily service in honor of Athena (placing offerings in the temple, praying, etc.), and finds herself instead pining for the forests and the hunt. Wondering what is causing her desire for the forest glades, she reflects on her mother, Pasiphae, who was daughter of Apollo. As Apollo exposed the love between Venus and Mars, Venus has “[loaded] the whole race of Phoebus with shame unspeakable”; thus, Pasiphae was doomed to fall in love with a bull and mate with him, giving birth to the Minotaur. Thankfully, Daedalus built a labyrinth to conceal the Minotaur; in Phaedra’s case, however, Daedalus would be unable to help her Phaedra’s aged nurse, standing by her side, interjects that Phaedra should control the passions she feels, for love can be terribly destructive. She warns that Phaedra is on the brink of committing a terrible crime, more sinful in a way than the “monstrous passion” that gripped her mother, and that she should be cautious of her actions. Just because Theseus is in the underworld does not mean Phaedra’s crime will “go concealed”; her father Minos and her ancestor Apollo will see to it that the deed is exposed. She explains that she is gripped by a lust she cannot control, and that reason has been defeated by passion. Her nurse reflects that such love is a “deadly pest” that seems to strike the wealthy more often than the poor. Cupid, son of Venus, may be the “least of gods” but nonetheless “holds such mighty empire.” As their conversation continues, it becomes obvious the Phaedra’s lust is driving toward Hippolytus. The nurse warns Phaedra to “fear and respect” her husband. Phaedra counters that Theseus is probably forever trapped in the underworld. The nurse replies that he has a way with escaping from difficult situations. “He will give indulgence to my love, perchance,” Phaedra notes. “Harsh was he even to a virtuous wife,” the nurse answers, referring to Antiope. Theseus is not the only problem, however. Hippolytus himself detests the race of women – in particular Phaedra (who is perhaps the cause of his hatred of the opposite sex). He avoids women, prefers to stay single and hunt, thereby betraying his “Amazonian” roots. Nonetheless, Phaedra vows to follow him. Every argument the nurse makes, Phaedra shoots down: Hippolytus may shun all women, but that means Phaedra need “fear no rival”; Minos may learn of this, but “he will be kind.” Try as the nurse may to persuade her, Phaedra cannot be reasoned with: “I yield, dear nurse,” she says, before declaring that she will commit suicide. At this, the nurse switches her tack, pleading Phaedra not to end her life. She promises to help, proclaiming before entering the palace with Phaedra: “Mine is the task to approach the savage youth and bend the cruel man’s relentless will.” The Chorus proceeds to wax lyrical about love’s power. Cupid is “reckless alike with torches and with arrows,” his shafts affecting all living beings – humans and animals alike – and driving victims to delirious ends. Even the gods are not immune – the Chorus mentions Zeus’ propensity to don earthly disguises in order to possess the objects of his affection or lust, and Diana leaving her lunar perch in order to seek love with the shepherd Endymion. Then the nurse reappears and, upon request, informs the Chorus that Phaedra is in a hopeless state, awash in tears and overwhelmed by her emotions, without “care for food or health.” She behaves as though dying, her “old-time sprightliness” long gone, while “her eyes, which once shone like Phoebus’ torch, no longer gleam with their ancestral fire.” At that moment, Phaedra reappears, casting away her servants and their offerings of garments: “Away, ye slaves, with robes bedecked with purple and with gold; away, scarlet of the Tyrian shell, the webs which the far-off Seres gather from the trees.” She wants her hair loose, her bindings gone; she wants to steal away into the woods, her left hand “busied with a quiver” and her right wielding “a Thessalian spear,” as though she herself were an Amazonian. Her nurse invokes Diana, begging the goddess to soften Hippolytus’ heart and make him fall in love with Phaedra.
Lines 424-834
Hippolytus returns from hunting and, seeing Phaedra’s nurse, asks her why she looks so sullen and worried. The nurse replies that there is no need to worry, that the “realm is in prosperous state,” and that Hippolytus should “show [him]self less harsh.” He is too stern, the nurse argues, too austere; he should enjoy his happiness, rather than waste it; he should seek the company of women, share his bed, regale himself. Hippolytus responds that life at its most innocent and free is life spent in the wild. He reflects on the men and women of “the primal age,” who lived “in friendly intercourse with gods.” They did not thirst for power; they found all they needed in the nature that surrounded them, and they lived in peace. Civilization changed everything; with it came crime and warfare, and with those two evils, centuries of bloodshed. Hippolytus then alludes to Phaedra briefly, saying that stepmothers “are no whit more merciful than beasts”; he goes on to declare woman as “the leader of all wickedness” and points to Medea (Aegeus’ wife, who killed her own children) as an example. “Why make the crime of few the blame of all?” the nurse asks. She then argues that “Love” can often change stubborn dispositions, causing people to question even their most deeply-held beliefs. Hippolytus himself was, after all, spared by his mother Antiope, when the Amazons traditionally killed any male infants; Antiope’s love for Theseus is the very reason for Hippolytus’ existence. Still, her arguments fall on deaf ears; Hippolytus maintains his steadfast hatred of womankind, and the nurse comments aside that her efforts are in vain. At that point, Phaedra appears, swoons, and collapses. When Hippolytus awakes her, she bemoans no longer being unconscious. When asked why she is so miserable, she decides (as revealed to us in an aside) that she will confess to Hippolytus, hoping that her words might sway him: she must “follow up” what she has started, for “success makes some sins honest.” After ensuring that no else is watching or listening, Phaedra tries to subtly suggest Hippolytus should take his father’s place. Theseus will likely never return from the underworld, and “it is no woman’s task to watch o’er royal cities.” Thus, Hippolytus should assume Theseus’ mantle. Hippolytus takes the bait, offering to fill his father’s shoes while awaiting his return (in which he continues to have faith). Phaedra sees her opportunity and kneels at his feet, declaring her love for him. At this, Hippolytus is aghast. He cries out that he is “guilty,” for he has “stirred [his] stepmother to love.” Then he pins the blame back on Phaedra, railing against what he perceives as her terrible crime. “O thou, who hast outshined the whole race of women,” he says, “who hast dared a greater evil than thy monster-bearing mother, thou worse than she who bore thee!” He draws his sword to kill Phaedra, but upon realizing this is what she wants, he casts the weapon away and flees into the forest, crying out: “Not great Father Neptune’s self, with his whole ocean, could wash away so much of guilt.” “Crime must be concealed by crime,” the nurse decides. The plan is to accuse Hippolytus of incestuous lust; since Phaedra’s confession was made in secret, it will be Hippolytus’ word against hers. “Help, Athens, help!” she shouts. “The ravisher, Hippolytus, with vile, lustful intent, is after us; he is upon us and threatens us with death; with the sword he is terrifying our chaste queen – ah! he has rushed headlong forth and, dazed, in panic flight, has left his sword.” The Chorus interjects, praising Hippolytus’ beauty but noting that beauty is subject to the wiles of time; it slips away “swiftly on quick foot” and is but “a fleeting thing.” Therefore, Hippolytus should enjoy his beauty while it lasts, because even the wilderness to which he now retreats will not preserve it indefinitely. The Chorus then condemns Phaedra’s wicked scheme: “What would the woman’s headlong madness leave undared? She is preparing outrageous charges against this guileless youth. Behold her guilty wiles!” It is then that Theseus appears, freshly returned from the underworld, his countenance “deathly pale” but his “head borne high.”
Lines 835-1280
Appearing in front of the palace, Theseus proclaims that he has escaped the underworld but has lost his “old-time vigor.” His steps faltering, his voice wavering, he asks: “But what is this tearful outcry that strikes my ears?” The nurse comes to inform him of Phaedra’s plight: “she scorns our tears,” she says, “and is on the very edge of death.” Theseus demands why Phaedra has resolved to die, especially now that her long-gone husband has come back to her. The nurse explains that Phaedra is telling no one the cause of her grief. Theseus opens the doors to the palace and sees Phaedra clutching a sword, ready to slay herself. He asks her why she is in such a state, but she responds only with vague, epigrammatic quips, alluding to a “sin” she has committed. Theseus asks to know what that sin is. “That I still live,” comes the reply. Rash, brimming with emotion, Theseus orders the nurse to be bound in chains and tormented with the “scourge” until she confesses her mistress’s secret. Phaedra intervenes, telling her husband that she has been raped and that the “destroyer of [her] honor” is the one whom Theseus would least expect. She then points to the sword Hippolytus left behind. “Ah me!” Theseus cries. “What villainy do I behold?” After Phaedra tells him that Hippolytus was last seen “speeding away in headlong flight,” Theseus, in a rage, summons his father Neptune to destroy the young man. (He notes that his father granted him three wishes, two of which he has already used; the third will be used against his own child.) “Now, now I give thanks to the heavenly powers that Antiope fell stricken by my hand,” he says, before calling out to Hippolytus: “Fugitive, through all thy hiding-places untiringly will I pursue thee; regions remote, blocked, hidden away, far separate, trackless, will I traverse, and no place shall stop me – thou knowest whence I am returned.” The Chorus responds with a query directed to the heavens: “O Nature, mighty mother of the gods, and thou, fire-bearing Olympus’ lord,” it cries out, “why dost thou dwell afar, all too indifferent to men, not anxious to bring blessing to the good, and to the evil, bane?” The Chorus continues by arguing that the world order is skewed, that the good are punished and the wicked rewarded, that “wretched poverty dogs the pure, and the adulterer, strong in wickedness, reigns supreme.” Only moments later, a Messenger arrives to inform Theseus that Hippolytus is dead. As the Messenger tells us, a great storm broke out and out of the ocean’s depths arose a monstrous beast, its sights aimed on Hippolytus. “A bull it was,” the Messenger recounts, “towering high with a dark blue neck, and he reared a high mane upon his verdant crest; his shaggy ears stood up; his eyes flashed with changing colour, now such as the lord of the wild herd might have, now such as one born beneath the sea – now his eyes dart flame, now they flash wondrous with cerulean gleam.” We learn that Hippolytus, steering several horses, kept his calm and tried to control the situation; his horses, however, broke from his grasp and scattered about in a frenzy, terrified by the monster. Hippolytus’ limbs became entwined in the reins, and his body was torn asunder; dragged through the forest, he was impaled by tree branches and sliced by rocks. He lies now, a battered corpse, parts of his body still strewn about the fields. Upon hearing the news, Theseus breaks into tears. Although he wished this death upon his son, bearing with his own ears and eyes the result of the prayer wracks him with despair. “Truly I deem this the crowning woe of woes, if fortune makes what we must loathe that we must long for,” he says. The Chorus proclaims that the gods target most readily the mortals of wealth of power, those men and women who scale the heights, while “the low-roofed, common home ne’er feels [Jove’s] mighty blasts.” Phaedra reappears, again with a drawn sword. She condemns Theseus for his harshness and turns to Hippolytus’ mangled corpse, limbs missing and blood dripping. She bemoans the young man’s fate: “whither is thy glorious beauty fled,” she asks, “and thine eyes, my stars?” Then she directs her rage back at her husband, revealing to him the truth – that she had falsely accused of Hippolytus of her own crime. With that, she falls on her sword and dies. Ye jaws of wan Avernus, ye Taenarean caves, ye waves of Lethe, welcome to the wretched, ye sluggish pools, hide ye in my impious self, plunge deep and bury me in unending woes,” Theseus cries. He looks upon his son’s body and calls for his missing parts to be assembled, so that Hippolytus may be given a proper burial. “[Let] all Athens with loud laments resound,” he declares. Then, pointing to Phaedra’s corpse, he utters the play’s closing line: “As for her, let her be buried deep in earth, and heavy may the soil lie on her unholy head!”
Characters in Phaedra
Hippolytus -Son of Theseus and the Amazonian Antiope. A lover of the hunt and of the woods, he is known to despise women. He prefers the freedoms of the wilderness to the comforts (and constraints) of civilization.
Phaedra - Theseus' wife and Hippolytus' stepmother. Daughter of Pasiphae, who fell in love with a bull and gave birth to the Minotaur, she too becomes stricken with a "sinful" desire - a lust for Hippolytus.
Theseus - King of Athens, famed for his heroic exploits, trapped in the Underworld at the play's beginning, on a quest with his friend Pirithous to capture Persephone and bring her to the mortal world. Known for his harshness, he killed his former wife Antiope, mother of Hippolytus.
The Nurse - Phaedra's nurse, an old woman who at first seems a vessel of wisdom in her attempts to console and advise her mistress, but then reveals a more sinister side when she hatches a plan to falsely accuse Hippolytus of trying to rape his stepmother.
External links
Bibliography
- G. Runchina, Tecnica drammatica e retorica nelle Tragedie di Seneca, Cagliari, 1960.
- P. Grimal, Phædra, Paris, P.U.F., "Erasme", 1965.
- P. Grimal, « L'originalité de Sénèque dans la tragédie de Phèdre », Revue des Études latines, XLI (1963), p. 297-314.
- F. Dupont, Les monstres de Sénèque, Paris, Belin, 1995.
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