Racine: Phaedra

358
RACINE
CEnone.—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 I
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 forever
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 see 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.