No More Learning

Hippolytus, son of Theseus and of Antiope, Queen of the Amazons.
Aricia, princess of the royal blood of Athens.
Oenone, nurse and confidante to Phaedra.
Theramenes, tutor to Hippolytus.
Ismene, confidante to Aricia.
Panope, lady in waiting to Phaedra.
Guards.

The scene is Troezen, a city of the Peloponnese.

Act I Scene I (Hippolytus, Theramenes. )

Hippolytus

My plans are made, dear Theramenes, I go:
I'll end my stay in pleasant Troezen so.
Gripped as I am by deadly uncertainty
I've grown ashamed of my inactivity.
For more than six months, far from my father, here, 5
I'm unaware now of the fate of one so dear.
I'm unaware, even, in what place he might be.

Theramenes

Where would you look for him, my lord? Already
To ease your concerns, which may yet be justified,
I've rounded the two seas Corinth's heights divide: 10
I sought Theseus among those by the roadstead,
Where Acheron's seen to flow towards the dead:
I visited Elis, and on leaving Taenarus,
Sailed the waves that saw the fall of Icarus.
What gives you fresh hope, in what happy depths 15
Do you think to discover traces of his steps?
Who even knows if the king your father, would
Wish the mystery of his absence understood?
Or if, though like you we've trembled for his safety,
The hero, hiding some new love affair, may be 20
Merely waiting till his betrayed lover, as yet. . . .

Hippolyte

Stop, dear Theramenes, show Theseus some respect.
Free of his youthful errors now, returning,
No unworthy obstacle would there delay him:
Ending his fatal inconstancy by her prayers, 25
Phaedra no longer has any such rival to fear.
Yet, seeking him I'll go and fulfil my duty,
Leaving these shores I no longer wish to see.

Theramenes

My lord, since when did you fear the proximity,
Of peaceful scenes, so dear to you from infancy, 30
Whose haunts I've often seen you prefer before
The tumultuous pomp of Athens and her court?
What risk, or rather what sorrow, drives you away?

Hippolyte

Glad times are no more. All's changed since the day
That, to our shores, the gods despatched the daughter, 35
Of Minos King of Crete: Pasiphae her mother.

Theramenes

I see. The reason for your pain is known to me.
Phaedra, grieves you, here, offends you deeply.