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. Born of an Amazon, The wildness that you wonder at I suck'd With mother's milk. When come to riper age, Reason approved what Nature had implanted.
Sincerely bound to me by zealous service, You told me then the story of my sire, And know how oft, attentive to your voice, I kindled when I heard his noble acts, As you described him bringing consolation To mortals for the absence of Alcides, The highways clear'd of monsters and of robbers, Procrustes, Cercyon, Sciro, Sinnis slain, The Epidaurian giant's bones dispersed, Crete reeking with the blood of Minotaur.
But when you told me of less glorious deeds, Troth plighted here and there and everywhere, Young Helen stolen from her home at Sparta, And Periboea's tears in Salamis, With many another trusting heart deceived Whose very names have 'scaped his memory, Forsaken Ariadne to the rocks Complaining, last this Phaedra, bound to him By better ties,--you know with what regret I heard and urged you to cut short the tale, Happy had I been able to erase From my remembrance that unworthy part Of such a splendid record. I, in turn, Am I too made the slave of love, and brought To stoop so low? The more contemptible That no renown is mine such as exalts The name of Theseus, that no monsters quell'd Have given me a right to share his weakness.
And if my pride of heart must needs be humbled, Aricia should have been the last to tame it.
Was I beside myself to have forgotten Eternal barriers of separation Between us? By my father's stern command Her brethren's blood must ne'er be reinforced By sons of hers; he dreads a single shoot From stock so guilty, and would fain with her Bury their name, that, even to the tomb Content to be his ward, for her no torch Of Hymen may be lit. Shall I espouse Her rights against my sire, rashly provoke His wrath, and launch upon a mad career--THERAMENES
The gods, dear prince, if once your hour is come, Care little for the reasons that should guide us.
Wishing to shut your eyes, Theseus unseals them;
His hatred, stirring a rebellious flame Within you, lends his enemy new charms.
And, after all, why should a guiltless passion Alarm you? Dare you not essay its sweetness, But follow rather a fastidious scruple?
Fear you to stray where Hercules has wander'd?
What heart so stout that Venus has not vanquish'd?
Where would you be yourself, so long her foe, Had your own mother, constant in her scorn Of love, ne'er glowed with tenderness for Theseus?
What boots it to affect a pride you feel not?
Confess it, all is changed; for some time past You have been seldom seen with wild delight Urging the rapid car along the strand, Or, skilful in the art that Neptune taught, Making th' unbroken steed obey the bit;
Less often have the woods return'd our shouts;
A secret burden on your spirits cast Has dimm'd your eye. How can I doubt you love?
Vainly would you conceal the fatal wound.
Has not the fair Aricia touch'd your heart?
HIPPOLYTUS
Theramenes, I go to find my father.
THERAMENES
Will you not see the queen before you start, My prince?
HIPPOLYTUS
That is my purpose: you can tell her.
Yes, I will see her; duty bids me do it.
But what new ill vexes her dear Oenone?
