Denials from me
will no longer convince you;
for the facts are now quite clear.
If I had thrown myself
at a man in love’s furtive commerce,
I should rightly now
be revealed as lascivious.
As it is,
because my madness was a god’s onslaught,
but my trouble is not voluntary.
Why, it has no probability!
What did I see in a bull
to have my heart eaten away
by a most shaming affliction?
Was it handsome to the eye in robes,
and threw out a bright gleam
from its ruddy hair and eyes,
the beard on its cheeks darkly red?
Certainly it wasn’t
the well-formed body of a bridegroom!
Was it for a union like that…
an animal’s hide…
to make it my husband!
Why then was I maddened by this affliction?
Pasiphaë for a site specific theatre performance of Euripides’ Cretans.