Racine: Phaedra

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RACINE
A terror to all those who would, like you,
Nourish with artful wiles the weaknesses
Of princes, push them to the brink of ruin
To which their heart inclines, and smooth the path
Of guilt. Such flatterers doth the wrath of Heav'n
Bestow on kings as its most fatal gift.
CEnone [alone] .—O gods ! to serve her what have I not done ?
This is the due reward that I have won.
ACT FIFTH.
Scene I.
Hippolytus, Aricia.
Aricia.—Can you keep silent in this mortal peril ?
Your father loves you. Will you leave him thus
Deceived ? If in your cruel heart you scorn
My tears, content to see me nevermore,
Go, part from poor Aricia ; but at least,
Going, secure the safety of your life.
Defend your honor from a shameful stain.
And force your father to recall his pray'rs.
There yet is time. Why out of mere caprice
Leave the field free to Phaedra's calumnies?
Let Theseus know the truth.
Hippolytus.— Could I say more.
Without exposing him to dire disgrace?
How should I venture, by revealing all,
To make a father's brow grow red with shame ?
The odious mystery to you alone
Is known. My heart has been outpour'd to none
Save you and Heav'n. I could not hide from you
(Judge if I love you), all I fain would hide
E'en from myself. But think under what seal
I spoke. Forget my words, if that may be
And never let so pure a mouth disclose
This dreadful secret. Let us trust to Heav'n
My vindication, for the gods are just