Hippolita

“ No more: Said Hippolita: thou must not relapse, Matilda. I can quit Theodore, said she, but must I wed another? let me attend thee to the altar, and shut myself from the world for ever. Thy fate depends on thy father; said Hippolita: I have ill bestowed my tenderness, if it has taught thee to revere aught beyond him. Adieu! my child: I go to pray for thee.
Hippolita's real purpose was to demand of Jerome, whether in conscience she might not consent to the divorce. She had oft urged Manfred to resign the principality, which the delicacy of her conscience rendered an hourly burthen to her. ”

“ In the meantime, the care and zeal of the young ladies had brought the Princess Hippolita to herself, who, amidst the transports of her own sorrow, frequently demanded news of her lord, would have dismissed her attendants to watch over him, and at last enjoined Matilda to leave her, and visit and comfort her father. Matilda, who wanted not affectionate duty to Manfred, though she trembled at his austerity, obeyed the orders of Hippolita, whom she tenderly recommended to Isabella ”

“ From this hour she must be a stranger to you, as she must be to me;—in short, Isabella, since I cannot give you my son, I offer you myself.—Heavens! cried Isabella, waking from her delusion, what do I hear! You! My Lord! You! My father-in-law! the father of Conrad! the husband of the virtuous and tender Hippolita!—I tell you, said Manfred imperiously, Hippolita is no longer my wife, I divorce her from this hour. Too long has she cursed me by her unfruitfulness: My fate depends on having sons,—and this night I trust will give a new date to my hopes. ”

“ They conveyed her to her chamber more dead than alive, and indifferent to all the strange circumstances she heard, except the death of her son. Matilda, who doated on her mother, smothered her own grief and amazement, and thought of nothing but assisting and comforting her afflicted parent. Isabella, who had been treated by Hippolita like a daughter, and who returned that tenderness with equal duty and affection, was scarce less assiduous about the Princess ”

“ He does not know you, but takes you for one of my Lady Hippolita's women. Art thou not ashamed, Bianca! said the Princess: What right have we to pry into the secrets of this young man's heart? he seems virtuous and frank, and tells us he is unhappy: Are those circumstances that authorize us to make a property of him? how are we intitled to his confidence? Lord! Madam, how little you know of love! replied Bianca: Why lovers have no pleasure equal to talking of their mistress. And would you have me become a peasant's confident? ”

“ Can we, can we, Isabella, adore her too much? My lovely children, said the touched Hippolita, your tenderness overpowers me—but I must not give way to it. It is not ours to make election for ourselves: Heaven, our fathers, and our husbands must decide for us. Have patience until you hear what Manfred and Frederic have determined. If the Marquis accepts Matilda's hand, I know she will readily obey. Heaven may interpose and prevent the rest. ”

“ A flood of tears succeeded to this transport; and the image of the beauteous Matilda rushing, in spite of him, on his thoughts, he lay on the ground in a conflict of penitence and passion. Ere he could recover from this agony of his spirits, the Princess Hippolita, with a taper in her hand, entered the oratory alone. Seeing a man without motion on the floor, she gave a shriek, concluding him dead. Her fright brought Frederic to himself. ”

“ Manfred, plunged in the deepest affliction, followed the litter in despair.
Ere they reached the castle, Hippolita, informed of the dreadful catastrophe, had flown to meet her murdered child; but when she saw the afflicted procession, the mightiness of her grief deprived her of her senses, and she fell lifeless to the earth in a swoon. Isabella and Frederic, who attended her, were overwhelmed in almost equal sorrow. Matilda alone seemed insensible to her own situation: every thought was lost in tenderness for her mother. ”

“ Why were they to be shocked by a mysterious delicacy, that has so little foundation?”
“Your words are rude, young man,” said the Marquis; “and though fortune has favoured you once—”
“My honoured Lord,” said Isabella, who resented Theodore’s warmth, which she perceived was dictated by his sentiments for Matilda, “discompose not yourself for the glosing of a peasant’s son: he forgets the reverence he owes you; but he is not accustomed—”
Hippolita, concerned at the heat that had arisen, checked Theodore for his boldness, but with an air acknowledging his zeal ”

“ The NURSE rises. ] Oh, woe is me! Women, we labour here all fruitlessly, All as far off as ever from her heart! She ever scorned me, and now hears no part Of all my prayers! [ Turning to PHAEDRA again. ] Nay, hear thou shalt, and be, If so thou will, more wild than the wild sea; But know, thou art thy little ones' betrayer! If thou die now, shall child of thine be heir To Theseus' castle? Nay, not thine, I ween, But hers! That barbèd Amazonian Queen Hath left a child to bend thy children low, A bastard royal-hearted—sayst not so?— Hippolytus... ”

“ The PRINCESS HIPPOLYTA of Mirandola, cousin to the DUKE; and DIEGO. HIPPOLYTA is very young, but with the strength and grace, and the candour, rather of a beautiful boy than of a woman. She is dazzlingly fair; and her hair, arranged in waves like an antique amazon's, is stiff and lustrous, as if made of threads of gold. The brows are wide and straight, like a man's; the glance fearless, but virginal and almost childlike. HIPPOLYTA is dressed in black and gold, particoloured, like Mantegna's Duchess. ”

“ For you, fair Hermia, look you arm yourself
To fit your fancies to your father's will,
Or else the law of Athens yields you up,
Which by no means we may extenuate,⁠120
To death, or to a vow of single life.
Come, my Hippolyta: what cheer, my love?
Demetrius and Egeus, go along:
I must employ you in some business⁠124
Against our nuptial, and confer with you
Of something nearly that concerns yourselves.
Ege. With duty and desire we follow you.
Exeunt. Manet Lysander and Hermia.
Lys. How now, my love! Why is your cheek so pale?⁠128
How chance the roses there do fade so fast? ”

“ Is this the proud Hippolytus I see, Than whom there breathed no fiercer foe to love And to that yoke which Theseus has so oft Endured? And can it be that Venus, scorn'd So long, will justify your sire at last? Has she, then, setting you with other mortals, Forced e'en Hippolytus to offer incense Before her? Can you love? HIPPOLYTUS Friend, ask me not. You, who have known my heart from infancy And all its feelings of disdainful pride, Spare me the shame of disavowing all That I profess'd. ”

“ Hippolytus can feel, but not for me!
Aricia has his heart, his plighted troth.
Ye gods, when, deaf to all my sighs and tears,
He arm'd his eye with scorn, his brow with threats,
I deem'd his heart, impregnable to love,
Was fortified 'gainst all my sex alike.
And yet another has prevail'd to tame
His pride, another has secured his favour.
Perhaps he has a heart easily melted;
I am the only one he cannot bear! ”

“ For yokeless maids before their bridal night Shall shear for thee their tresses; and a rite Of honouring tears be thine in ceaseless store; And virgin's thoughts in music evermore Turn toward thee, and praise thee in the Song Of Phaedra's far-famed love and thy great wrong. O seed of ancient Aegeus, bend thee now And clasp thy son. Aye, hold and fear not thou! Not knowingly hast thou slain him; and man's way, When Gods send error, needs must fall astray. And thou, Hippolytus, shrink not from the King, Thy father. ”

“ After death he was restored to life under the name of Virbius (vir-bis, “twice a man”) . (See Hippolytos) .
Hippolito, a youth who never knew a woman.
Browning. Hippol ́yta, queen of the Am ́azons, and daughter of Mars. She was famous for a girdle given her by the war-god, which Herculês had to obtain possession of as one of his twelve labors.
⁂ Shakespeare has introduced Hippolyta in his Midsummer Night’s Dream, and betroths her to TheseusTheseus (2 syl.) duke of Athens; but according to classic fable, it was her sister An ́tiopê (4 syl.) who married Theseus. ”

“ Weeping; for word had come that ne'er again The foot of our Hippolytus should roam This land, but waste in exile by thy doom. So stood we till he came, and in his tone No music now save sorrow's, like our own, And in his train a concourse without end Of many a chase-fellow and many a friend. At last he brushed his sobs away, and spake: "Why this fond loitering? I would not break My Father's law—Ho, there! My coursers four And chariot, quick! This land is mine no more." Thereat, be sure, each man of us made speed. ”

“ Just as he reach’d forth his Hand to take up one of the Papers, Hippolito started up so on the suddain, as surpriz’d Aurelian and made him leap back; Hippolito, on the other hand, not supposing that any Body had been near him, was so disordered with the Appearance of a Man at his Elbow, (whom his Amazement did not permit him to distinguish) that he leap’d hastily to his Sword, and in turning him about, overthrew the Stand and Candles. Here were they both left in the Dark, Hippolito groping about with his Sword, and thrusting at every Chair that he felt oppose him. ”

“ Lost, for this anguish presses, soon or late, To that swift river that no life hath crossed. No woman ever lived so desolate! LEADER OF THE CHORUS Ah me, the time for deeds is gone; the boast Proved vain that spake thine handmaid; and all lost! [ At these words PHAEDRA suddenly remembers the NURSE, who is cowering silently where HIPPOLYTUS had thrown her from him. She turns upon her.] PHAEDRA O wicked, wicked, wicked! Murderess heart To them that loved thee! Hast thou played thy part? Am I enough trod down? May Zeus, my sire, Blast and uproot thee! Stab thee dead with fire! ”

“ The simple primitive cathedra, [16] of which we may learn something from the statue of Hippolytus, was, no doubt, “a throne” in the eyes of an ambitious man. Callistus is here charged, by one who knew him and his history, with obtaining this position by knavish words and practices. The question may well arise, in our Christian love for antiquity, How could such things be, even in the age of martyrdoms? Let us recollect, that under the good Bishop Pius, when his brother wrote the Hermas, the peril of wealth and love of money began to be imminent at Rome. ”

“ Phædra, the heroine of the Hippolytus, supplies us with a new conception of the same thirst for εὐκλεία—the same εὐψυχία, γενναιότης, indifference to life when honor is at stake. The pride of her good name drives Phædra to a crime more detestable than Medea's, because her victim, Hippolytus, is eminently innocent. I do not want to dwell upon the pining sickness of Phædra, which Euripides has wrought with exquisitely painful details, but rather to call attention to Hippolytus. Side by side with the fever of Phædra is the pure fresh health of the hunter-hero. ”

“ The fate of Hippolytus is indeed tragic—a lofty and pure character destroyed by his own purity; but the spectator is partly reconciled to it, and the vengeance of the deity is palliated, by the bold and somewhat impious contempt for her which he expresses at the opening of the play. The aged servant who begs him to offer the customary sacrifice to Aphrodite, and not brave her anger, touches the proper string; the bold self-opinion of the hero gives a jarring sound. ”

“ Hippolytus, charged by Theseus with the crime, will not break his oath and goes out to exile under his father's curse. The gods, in fulfilment of the curse, send death to him, but before he actually dies reveal his innocence. The story which might so easily be made ugly or sensual is treated by Euripides with a delicate and austere purity. In construction, too, and general beauty of workmanship, though not in greatness of idea or depth of passion, the Hippolytus is perhaps the finest of all his plays, and has still a great appeal on the stage. ”

“ The account given by Hippolytus, the friend of the apostles. [1]
In another little book bearing the name of Hippolytus, the friend of the apostles, I found a story of the following nature:—
There lived a certain most noble and beautiful maiden [2] in the city of Corinth, in the careful exercise of a virtuous life. At that time some persons falsely charged her before the judge there, who was a Greek, with cursing the times, and the princes, and the images. Now those who trafficked in such things, brought her beauty under the notice of the impious judge, who lusted after women. ”

“ Hypatia's arms dropped suddenly. Yes; it was true! The thought flashed across her mind with mingled delight and terror . . . . Visions of her childhood rose swift and thick—temples—sacrifices— priesthoods—colleges—museums! What might she not do? What might she not make Africa? Give her ten years of power, and the hated name of Christian might be forgotten, and Athene Polias, colossal in ivory and gold, watching in calm triumph over the harbours of a heathen Alexandria . ”

“ This simple laugh was transformed in his imagination into an incessant hilarity, ever-present, daily, hourly, during the entire period of her absence. Hippolyte had led a gay, commonplace existence, with people unknown to him, among the companions of her brother-in-law, in a circle of stupid admirers. Her sad letters were only lies. He remembered a passage in one letter: "Life here is insupportable; friends weary us constantly and do not leave us a single peaceful hour. You know how cordial the Milanese are." ”