The
countryside
of Crete 505
Offers the son of Phaedra a rich retreat.
Offers the son of Phaedra a rich retreat.
Racine - Phaedra
470
I imagine your hatred, denying him his virtue,
Without regret, hears all those names he's due.
Yet one hope now softens my mortal sadness:
That I might free you from a guardian's harshness,
I revoke laws whose rigour I deplored: you are 475
Free now to dispose of yourself, and your heart:
And in this Troezen, now my inheritance,
The legacy of my ancestor Pittheus once,
Which has made me king, unhesitatingly,
I set you free as well, freer than I can be. 480
Aricia
Moderate your kindness whose excess shames me.
By honouring my plight with care, so generously,
It binds me, my lord, more than you might see,
To those austere laws from which you free me.
Hippolyte
Athens, uncertain of its choice for the succession, 485
Speaks of you, names me, and also the Queen's son.
Aricia
Of me, my Lord?
Hippolyte
I don't deceive myself: I know
That its proud laws seem to reject me: even so
Greece reproaches me for my foreign mother.
But if the only competition were my brother, 490
Madame, over him I have essential claims,
That I could salvage from the law's domains.
A more legitimate curb arrests my boldness:
I cede to you, rather I return a title no less,
A sceptre your ancestors long ago received 495
From that famous mortal whom the earth conceived.
Adoption placed it in Aegeus' hands, there.
Athens, enriched, protected by my father,
Recognised, joyfully, a king so generous,
And sent your poor brothers to forgetfulness. 500
Athens now calls you back within her walls.
She's suffered long enough from those quarrels.
Too long has your blood, swallowed by its furrows,
Made that earth steam from which it first arose.
Troezen obeys me.
The countryside of Crete 505
Offers the son of Phaedra a rich retreat.
Attica is yours. I leave now, and go too
To unite all our scattered votes for you.
Aricia
I'm astonished and confused by all I hear,
I fear lest a dream deceives me, yes I fear. 510
Am I awake? Can I believe in such a plan?
What god, my Lord, what god guides your hand?
How deserved your fame: they speak it everywhere!
And how much the truth exceeds what they declare!
You would sacrifice yourself in favour of me! 515
Is it not sufficient that you will not hate me?
And for so long were able to protect your soul
From that enmity. . .
Hippolyte
I hate you, Madame, how so?
Despite those colours in which they paint my pride,
Can they think a monster brought me to the light?
I imagine your hatred, denying him his virtue,
Without regret, hears all those names he's due.
Yet one hope now softens my mortal sadness:
That I might free you from a guardian's harshness,
I revoke laws whose rigour I deplored: you are 475
Free now to dispose of yourself, and your heart:
And in this Troezen, now my inheritance,
The legacy of my ancestor Pittheus once,
Which has made me king, unhesitatingly,
I set you free as well, freer than I can be. 480
Aricia
Moderate your kindness whose excess shames me.
By honouring my plight with care, so generously,
It binds me, my lord, more than you might see,
To those austere laws from which you free me.
Hippolyte
Athens, uncertain of its choice for the succession, 485
Speaks of you, names me, and also the Queen's son.
Aricia
Of me, my Lord?
Hippolyte
I don't deceive myself: I know
That its proud laws seem to reject me: even so
Greece reproaches me for my foreign mother.
But if the only competition were my brother, 490
Madame, over him I have essential claims,
That I could salvage from the law's domains.
A more legitimate curb arrests my boldness:
I cede to you, rather I return a title no less,
A sceptre your ancestors long ago received 495
From that famous mortal whom the earth conceived.
Adoption placed it in Aegeus' hands, there.
Athens, enriched, protected by my father,
Recognised, joyfully, a king so generous,
And sent your poor brothers to forgetfulness. 500
Athens now calls you back within her walls.
She's suffered long enough from those quarrels.
Too long has your blood, swallowed by its furrows,
Made that earth steam from which it first arose.
Troezen obeys me.
The countryside of Crete 505
Offers the son of Phaedra a rich retreat.
Attica is yours. I leave now, and go too
To unite all our scattered votes for you.
Aricia
I'm astonished and confused by all I hear,
I fear lest a dream deceives me, yes I fear. 510
Am I awake? Can I believe in such a plan?
What god, my Lord, what god guides your hand?
How deserved your fame: they speak it everywhere!
And how much the truth exceeds what they declare!
You would sacrifice yourself in favour of me! 515
Is it not sufficient that you will not hate me?
And for so long were able to protect your soul
From that enmity. . .
Hippolyte
I hate you, Madame, how so?
Despite those colours in which they paint my pride,
Can they think a monster brought me to the light?
