Thes. What past? Hip. I ask'd permission to retire. Hip. My lord, I humbly beg, With the most low submissions, ask no more. Thes. “Yet you don't answer with your low sub. missions." Answer, or never hope to see me more. Hip. Too much he knows, I fear, without my telling; And the poor Queen's betray'd, and lost for ever. [Aside. Thes. He changes, gods ! and faulters at the question. His fears, his words, his looks declare him guilty. [Aside. Hip. Why do you frown, my lord? why turn away? As from some loathsome monster, not your son? Thes. Thou art that monster, and no more my son. Not one of those of the most horrid form, Of which my hand has eas'd the burthen'd earth, Hip. Where am I, gods? is that my father Theseuis? "Am I awake?" am I Hippolitus. Thes. Thou art that fiend:-Thou art Hippolitus, Thou art.-O fall! O fatal stain to honour! How had my vain imagination form'd thee? Brave as Alcides, and as Minos just. Sometimes it led me through the maze of war There it survey'd thee ranging through the field, Mowing down troops, and dealing out destruction. "Sometimes with wholesome laws reforming states, "Crowning their happy joys with peace and plenty;" While you Hip. With all my father's soul inspir'd, When you should strain me in your folding arms, Go tread the rugged paths of daring honour; Was Minos then, thy pattern and did Minos, Did he inspire adultery, force, and incest? "Ismena appears. Ism. Ha! what's this? Hip. Amazement! incest! [Aside." Thes. Incest with Phædra, with thy mother Phædra, Hip. This charge so unexpected, so amazing, So new, so strange, impossible to thought, Stuns my astonish'd soul, and ties my voice. Thes. Then let this wake thee, this once-glorious sword, With which thy father arm'd thy infant hand, Not for this purpose. O abandon'd slave! O early villain most detested coward! With this my instrument of youthful glory! With this t'invade the spotless Phædra's honour!- That very Phædra, for whose just defence The gods would claim thy sword. Hip. Amazement! death! Heav'ns durst I raise the far-fam'd sword of Theseus Against his queen, against my mother's bosom ? Thes. If not; declare when, where, and how you lost it? How Phædra gain'd it ?-O all ye gods! he's silent. Why was it bar'd? whose bosom was it aim'd at ? What meant thy arm advanc'd, thy glowing cheeks, Thy hand, heart, eyes? O villain! monstrous villain! Hip. Is there no way, "no thought, no beam of light? beneath "No clue to guide me thro' this gloomy maze,” I'll give them to the winds. Hear me, my Lord; Hear your wrong`d son. The sword-O fatal vow! Ensnaring oaths, and thou, rash thoughtless fool, To bind thyself in voluntary chains; "Yet to thy fatal trust continue firm! "Beneath disgrace, though infamous, yet honest.” Yet hear me, father: May the righteous gods Show'r all their curses on this wretched head; Oh, may they doom me Thes. Yes, the gods will doom thee. The sword, the sword!-Now swear, and call to witness Heav'n, hell, and earth, I mark it not from one Fix'd on that awful face, I stand the charge, "Thes. This is for raw, untaught, unfinish'd villains. Thou in thy bloom hast reach'd th' abhor'd perfection: Thy even looks could wear a peaceful calm, The beauteous stamp (O Heav'ns !) of faultless virtue, "While thy foul heart contriv'd this horrid deed! "O harden'd fiend! I'll hear no more! "Disturb thy soul, or ruffle thy smooth brow! "Oh! 'twas thy joy, thy secret hoard of bliss, Hip. Must I not speak? Then say, unerring Heav'n, Thes. Guilty indeed. Ev'n at the time you heard your father's death; "And such a father (O immortal gods!) "As held thee dearer than his life and glory! "When thou should'st rend the skies with clam'rous grief, "Beat thy sad breast, and tear thy starting hair;" Then to my bed to force your impious way; "With horrid lust t'insult my yet warm urn;" Make me the scorn of hell, and sport for fiends! These are the fun'ral honours paid to Theseus; These are the sorrows, these the hallow'd rites, To which you'd call your father's hov'ring spirit. ISMENA enters. Ism. Hear me, my lord, ere yet you fix his doom: [Turning to Theseus, |