blood, If that were punishment too mild to slake Your hatred, lend me then your sword, if not Your arm. Quick, give't. OENONE What, Madam, will you do? Just gods! But someone comes. Go, fly from shame, You cannot 'scape if seen by any thus.
SCENE VI HIPPOLYTUS, THERAMENES
THERAMENES Is that the form of Phaedra that I see Hurried away? What mean these signs of sorrow? Where is your sword? Why are you pale, confused? HIPPOLYTUS Friend, let us fly. I am, indeed, confounded With horror and astonishment extreme. Phaedra—but no; gods, let this dreadful secret Remain for ever buried in oblivion. THERAMENES The ship is ready if you wish to sail. But Athens has already giv'n her vote; Their leaders have consulted all her tribes; Your brother is elected, Phaedra wins. HIPPOLYTUS Phaedra? THERAMENES A herald, charged with a commission From Athens, has arrived to place the reins Of power in her hands. Her son is King. HIPPOLYTUS Ye gods, who know her, do ye thus reward Her virtue? THERAMENES A faint rumour meanwhile whispers That Theseus is not dead, but in Epirus Has shown himself. But, after all my search, I know too well— HIPPOLYTUS Let nothing be neglected. This rumour must be traced back to its source. If it be found unworthy of belief, Let us set sail, and cost whate'er it may, To hands deserving trust the sceptre's sway.
ACT III
Scene I PHAEDRA, OENONE
PHAEDRA Ah! Let them take elsewhere the worthless honours They bring me. Why so urgent I should see them? What flattering balm can soothe my wounded heart? Far rather hide me: I have said too much. My madness has burst forth like streams in flood, And I have utter'd what should ne'er have reach'd His ear. Gods! How he heard me! How reluctant To catch my meaning, dull and cold as marble, And eager only for a quick retreat! How oft his blushes made my shame the deeper! Why did you turn me from the death I sought? Ah! When his sword was pointed to my bosom,
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