Chapter: SCENE IV
          THESEUS, HIPPOLYTUS, PHAEDRA, OENONE, THERAMENES


          THESEUS
          Fortune no longer fights against my wishes,
          Madam, and to your arms restores--

          PHAEDRA
          Stay, Theseus!
          Do not profane endearments that were once
          So sweet, but which I am unworthy now
          To taste. You have been wrong'd. Fortune has proved
          Spiteful, nor in your absence spared your wife.
          I am unfit to meet your fond caress,
          How I may bear my shame my only care
          Henceforth.




Scene V
          THESEUS, HIPPOLYTUS, THERAMENES


          THESEUS
          Strange welcome for your father, this!
          What does it mean, my son?

          HIPPOLYTUS
          Phaedra alone
          Can solve this mystery. But if my wish
          Can move you, let me never see her more;
          Suffer Hippolytus to disappear
          For ever from the home that holds your wife.

          THESEUS
          You, my son! Leave me?

          HIPPOLYTUS
          'Twas not I who sought her:
          'Twas you who led her footsteps to these shores.
          At your departure you thought meet, my lord,
          To trust Aricia and the Queen to this
          Troezenian land, and I myself was charged
          With their protection. But what cares henceforth
          Need keep me here? My youth of idleness
          Has shown its skill enough o'er paltry foes
          That range the woods. May I not quit a life
          Of such inglorious ease, and dip my spear
          In nobler blood? Ere you had reach'd my age
          More than one tyrant, monster more than one
          Had felt the weight of your stout arm. Already,
          Successful in attacking insolence,
          You had removed all dangers that infested
          Our coasts to east and west. The traveller fear'd
          Outrage no longer. Hearing of your deeds,
          Already Hercules relied on you,
          And rested from his toils. While I, unknown
          Son of so brave a sire, am far behind
          Even my mother's footsteps. Let my courage
          Have scope to act, and if some monster yet
          Has 'scaped you, let me lay the glorious spoils
          Down at your feet; or let the memory
          Of death faced nobly keep my name alive,
          And prove to all the world I was your son.

          THESEUS
          Why, what is this? What terror has possess'd
          My family to make them fly before me?
          If I return to find myself so fear'd,
          So little welcome, why did Heav'n release me
          From prison? My sole friend, misled by passion,
          Was bent on robbing of his wife the tyrant
          Who ruled Epirus. With regret I lent
          The lover aid, but Fate had made us blind,
          Myself as well as him. The tyrant seized me
          Defenceless and unarm'd. Pirithous
          I saw with tears cast forth to be devour'd
          By savage beasts that lapp'd the blood of men.
          Myself in gloomy caverns he inclosed,
          Deep in the bowels of the earth, and nigh
          To Pluto's realms. Six months I lay ere Heav'n
          Had pity, and I 'scaped the watchful eyes
          That guarded me. Then did I purge the world
          Of a foul foe, and he himself has fed
          His monsters. But when with expectant joy
          To all that is most precious I draw near
          Of what the gods have left me, when my soul
          Looks for full satisfaction in a sight
          So dear, my only welcome is a shudder,
          Embrace rejected, and a hasty flight.
          Inspiring, as I clearly do, such terror,
          Would I were still a prisoner in Epirus!
          Phaedra complains that I have suffer'd outrage.
          Who has betray'd me? Speak. Why was I not
          Avenged? Has Greece, to whom mine arm so oft
          Brought useful aid, shelter'd the criminal?
          You make no answer. Is my son, mine own
          Dear son, confederate with mine enemies?
          I'll enter. This suspense is overwhelming.
          I'll learn at once the culprit and the crime,
          And Phaedra must explain her troubled state.




Scene VI
          HIPPOLYTUS, THERAMENES


          HIPPOLYTUS
          What do these words portend, which seem'd to freeze
          My very blood? Will Phaedra, in her frenzy
          Accuse herself, and seal her own destruction?
          What will the King say? Gods! What fatal poison
          Has love spread over all his house! Myself,
          Full of a fire his hatred disapproves,
          How changed he finds me from the son he knew!
          With dark forebodings in my mind alarm'd,
          But innocence has surely naught to fear.
          Come, let us go, and in some other place
          Consider how I best may move my sire
          To tenderness, and tell him of a flame
          Vex'd but not vanquish'd by a father's blame.

 Theseus, Hippolytus, and Theramenes appear, and Theseus goes eagerly toward his wife, but she refuses his embrace, saying she is no longer worthy of it, and flees. Troubled, Theseus asks Hippolytus the meaning of this strange welcome. Hippolytus, embarrassed, suggests that Theseus ask Phaedra to explain; for his part, he also has a request to make. He can no longer live in the same place with his father's wife, and he wants his father's permission to leave Troezen. Theseus protests, but Hippolytus reminds him that at his age, Theseus had already killed more than one monster and traveled strange lands, but Hippolytus has not yet equaled even the exploits of his mother, much less those of his father. "Permit me," he begs, "if there is still some monster which has escaped you, to bring you the trophy of his death, or to die honorably in the attempt." Theseus is dismayed. What kind of welcome is this for a returning husband and father? He might better have remained in prison in Epirus. And he goes on to recount how, out of old friendship, he consented to help Pirithous carry off the wife of the tyrant of Epirus, how that tyrant captured them both, fed Pirithous to the monsters, and imprisoned Theseus in a cave. Fortunately, Theseus was able to trick his enemy and throw him as food to his own monsters. Once free, his only thought was to rejoin his loved ones, wife and son, but now both reject him, both wish to leave him. What is going on? Who has betrayed him? Hippolytus is silent, and, deeply hurt, Theseus cries, "Is my own son cooperating with my enemies?" Phaedra must speak; he will know the truth and learn exactly what is the crime and who the guilty one. Left alone with Theramenes, Hippolytus too is troubled. Will Phaedra tell the truth, a truth which will certainly cost her her life? What will Theseus say, particularly when he learns that during his absence his son has spoken of love to Aricia, a woman to whom he has forbidden marriage? He fears what is to come, but after all, he is innocent, and innocence has nothing to fear. Perhaps by a skillful approach he can touch his father's heart and win his consent to a love which he will never abandon, no matter what Theseus' reaction is.

