Chapter: ACT IV   Scene I
          THESEUS, OENONE


          THESEUS
          Ah! What is this I hear? Presumptuous traitor!
          And would he have disgraced his father's honour?
          With what relentless footsteps Fate pursues me!
          Whither I go I know not, nor where know
          I am. O kind affection ill repaid!
          Audacious scheme! Abominable thought!
          To reach the object of his foul desire
          The wretch disdain'd not to use violence.
          I know this sword that served him in his fury,
          The sword I gave him for a nobler use.
          Could not the sacred ties of blood restrain him?
          And Phaedra,--was she loath to have him punish'd?
          She held her tongue. Was that to spare the culprit?

          OENONE
          Nay, but to spare a most unhappy father.
          O'erwhelm'd with shame that her eyes should have kindled
          So infamous a flame and prompted him
          To crime so heinous, Phaedra would have died.
          I saw her raise her arm, and ran to save her.
          To me alone you owe it that she lives;
          And, in my pity both for her and you,
          Have I against my will interpreted
          Her tears.

          THESEUS
          The traitor! He might well turn pale.
          'Twas fear that made him tremble when he saw me.
          I was astonish'd that he show'd no pleasure;
          His frigid greeting chill'd my tenderness.
          But was this guilty passion that devours him
          Declared already ere I banish'd him
          From Athens?

          OENONE
          Sire, remember how the Queen
          Urged you. Illicit love caused all her hatred.

          THESEUS
          And then this fire broke out again at Troezen?

          OENONE
          Sire, I have told you all. Too long the Queen
          Has been allow'd to bear her grief alone
          Let me now leave you and attend to her.




Scene II
          THESEUS, HIPPOLYTUS


          THESEUS
          Ah! There he is. Great gods! That noble mien
          Might well deceive an eye less fond than mine!
          Why should the sacred stamp of virtue gleam
          Upon the forehead of an impious wretch?
          Ought not the blackness of a traitor's heart
          To show itself by sure and certain signs?

          HIPPOLYTUS
          My father, may I ask what fatal cloud
          Has troubled your majestic countenance?
          Dare you not trust this secret to your son?

          THESEUS
          Traitor, how dare you show yourself before me?
          Monster, whom Heaven's bolts have spared too long!
          Survivor of that robber crew whereof
          I cleansed the earth. After your brutal lust
          Scorn'd even to respect my marriage bed,
          You venture--you, my hated foe--to come
          Into my presence, here, where all is full
          Of your foul infamy, instead of seeking
          Some unknown land that never heard my name.
          Fly, traitor, fly! Stay not to tempt the wrath
          That I can scarce restrain, nor brave my hatred.
          Disgrace enough have I incurr'd for ever
          In being father of so vile a son,
          Without your death staining indelibly
          The glorious record of my noble deeds.
          Fly, and unless you wish quick punishment
          To add you to the criminals cut off
          By me, take heed this sun that lights us now
          Ne'er sees you more set foot upon this soil.
          I tell you once again,--fly, haste, return not,
          Rid all my realms of your atrocious presence.
          To thee, to thee, great Neptune, I appeal
          If erst I clear'd thy shores of foul assassins
          Recall thy promise to reward those efforts,
          Crown'd with success, by granting my first pray'r.
          Confined for long in close captivity,
          I have not yet call'd on thy pow'rful aid,
          Sparing to use the valued privilege
          Till at mine utmost need. The time is come
          I ask thee now. Avenge a wretched father!
          I leave this traitor to thy wrath; in blood
          Quench his outrageous fires, and by thy fury
          Theseus will estimate thy favour tow'rds him.

          HIPPOLYTUS
          Phaedra accuses me of lawless passion!
          This crowning horror all my soul confounds;
          Such unexpected blows, falling at once,
          O'erwhelm me, choke my utterance, strike me dumb.

          THESEUS
          Traitor, you reckon'd that in timid silence
          Phaedra would bury your brutality.
          You should not have abandon'd in your flight
          The sword that in her hands helps to condemn you;
          Or rather, to complete your perfidy,
          You should have robb'd her both of speech and life.

          HIPPOLYTUS
          Justly indignant at a lie so black
          I might be pardon'd if I told the truth;
          But it concerns your honour to conceal it.
          Approve the reverence that shuts my mouth;
          And, without wishing to increase your woes,
          Examine closely what my life has been.
          Great crimes are never single, they are link'd
          To former faults. He who has once transgress'd
          May violate at last all that men hold
          Most sacred; vice, like virtue, has degrees
          Of progress; innocence was never seen
          To sink at once into the lowest depths
          Of guilt. No virtuous man can in a day
          Turn traitor, murderer, an incestuous wretch.
          The nursling of a chaste, heroic mother,
          I have not proved unworthy of my birth.
          Pittheus, whose wisdom is by all esteem'd,
          Deign'd to instruct me when I left her hands.
          It is no wish of mine to vaunt my merits,
          But, if I may lay claim to any virtue,
          I think beyond all else I have display'd
          Abhorrence of those sins with which I'm charged.
          For this Hippolytus is known in Greece,
          So continent that he is deem'd austere.
          All know my abstinence inflexible:
          The daylight is not purer than my heart.
          How, then, could I, burning with fire profane--

          THESEUS
          Yes, dastard, 'tis that very pride condemns you.
          I see the odious reason of your coldness
          Phaedra alone bewitch'd your shameless eyes;
          Your soul, to others' charms indifferent,
          Disdain'd the blameless fires of lawful love.

          HIPPOLYTUS
          No, father, I have hidden it too long,
          This heart has not disdain'd a sacred flame.
          Here at your feet I own my real offence:
          I love, and love in truth where you forbid me;
          Bound to Aricia by my heart's devotion,
          The child of Pallas has subdued your son.
          A rebel to your laws, her I adore,
          And breathe forth ardent sighs for her alone.

          THESEUS
          You love her? Heav'ns!
          But no, I see the trick.
          You feign a crime to justify yourself.

          HIPPOLYTUS
          Sir, I have shunn'd her for six months, and still
          Love her. To you yourself I came to tell it,
          Trembling the while. Can nothing clear your mind
          Of your mistake? What oath can reassure you?
          By heav'n and earth and all the pow'rs of nature--

          THESEUS
          The wicked never shrink from perjury.
          Cease, cease, and spare me irksome protestations,
          If your false virtue has no other aid.

          HIPPOLYTUS
          Tho' it to you seem false and insincere,
          Phaedra has secret cause to know it true.

          THESEUS
          Ah! how your shamelessness excites my wrath!

          HIPPOLYTUS
          What is my term and place of banishment?

          THESEUS
          Were you beyond the Pillars of Alcides,
          Your perjured presence were too near me yet.

          HIPPOLYTUS
          What friends will pity me, when you forsake
          And think me guilty of a crime so vile?

          THESEUS
          Go, look you out for friends who hold in honour
          Adultery and clap their hands at incest,
          Low, lawless traitors, steep'd in infamy,
          The fit protectors of a knave like you.

          HIPPOLYTUS
          Are incest and adultery the words
          You cast at me? I hold my tongue. Yet think
          What mother Phaedra had; too well you know
          Her blood, not mine, is tainted with those horrors.

          THESEUS
          What! Does your rage before my eyes lose all
          Restraint? For the last time,--out of my sight!
          Hence, traitor! Wait not till a father's wrath
          Force thee away 'mid general execration.




Scene III


          THESEUS (alone)
          Wretch! Thou must meet inevitable ruin.
          Neptune has sworn by Styx--to gods themselves
          A dreadful oath,--and he will execute
          His promise. Thou canst not escape his vengeance.
          I loved thee; and, in spite of thine offence,
          My heart is troubled by anticipation
          For thee. But thou hast earn'd thy doom too well.
          Had father ever greater cause for rage?
          Just gods, who see the grief that overwhelms me,
          Why was I cursed with such a wicked son?

 Theseus has heard Oenone's story, and he is wild with rage and grief. He cannot doubt that his son has threatened and assaulted his wife; he has seen with his own eyes the sword which Hippolytus left behind with the women. But why did Phaedra herself not tell him the truth? Oenone explains that Phaedra wished only to spare her husband this shame and sorrow and was preparing to die rather than speak when Oenone found her, heard her story, and came to inform Theseus. Theseus, remembering the hesitancy and fear with which Hippolytus greeted him upon his return, sees in it the signs of his guilt, and Oenone's reminder of Phaedra's old dislike for Hippolytus further convinces him that his son has loved his wife for a long time. Yet when Hippolytus, who has gathered the courage to speak to him of Aricia, enters and innocently inquires what is causing his father distress, Theseus disdains a noble and virtuous exterior that can hide such a treacherous nature, and the contrast makes his anger more bitter. How dare Hippolytus appear before him, monster that he is, after forcing his incestuous attentions upon his father's wife? He should flee and not tempt his anger further. But Theseus will not kill him with his own hands; the shame of having a criminal son is enough, without soiling his hands with that son's blood. Instead, he calls upon his ancestor Neptune to grant the boon he once promised Theseus and avenge an unhappy father upon his traitorous son. Hippolytus, at first speechless in the face of his father's accusations, gains courage through anger as Theseus continues to accuse him. Phaedra's story is a lie, he declares, and if he would, he could reveal the truth, but respect for his father seals his lips. Theseus should, however, reflect that Hippolytus' whole life and character give the lie to this accusation; there are always early signs of a vicious nature. And Hippolytus is not only the offspring of a chaste and virtuous Amazon; his life has been famous for its purity. To Theseus, however, Hippolytus' famed chastity only adds more weight to Phaedra's story. Of course he was not interested in other women -- he coveted only Phaedra. Again Hippolytus protests. It is not true he loves Phaedra. He does love, and he has come to confess his real offense against his father: He has spoken of love to Aricia despite his father's orders. For an instant Theseus believes, but the confession, which in effect contradicts Hippolytus' previous defense, comes at the wrong place and the wrong time. It is a pretense, he declares, intended to cover up Hippolytus' real crime. Hippolytus cries, "Phaedra in the depths of her heart judges me more fairly than you" and asks where his exile is to be. Theseus does not care, so long as it is out of his sight, nor does he care where his son finds friends and support -- no doubt other traitors and incestuous adulterers will come to his aid. Hippolytus retorts that if the subject is to be adultery and incest, Phaedra comes from a family more noted for these crimes than his own. Theseus, further infuriated, drives him from his presence. Alone, he calls once again upon Neptune to revenge him upon his son for the outrage Hippolytus has committed against him.

