No More Learning

Aricia

What? My Lord.

Hippolyte

I have let myself run on too far.
I see my reason has given way to violence. 525
Yet since I've now begun to break my silence,
Madame, I will continue: I'll speak again
Of a secret my heart can no longer contain.
A prince to be pitied is before your eyes,
A memorable example of reckless pride. 530
I who proudly revolted against all passion,
Have long scorned the chains of that lovers' prison:
As I deplored the shipwrecks of weak men,
Thinking that from the shore I'd always view them:
Now subjugated to the common law, 535
What turmoil bears me to a distant shore?
One moment conquered boldness so imprudent:
My soul, so proud, is finally dependant.
For more than six months, desperate, ashamed,
Bearing throughout the wound with which I'm maimed, 540
I steeled myself towards you, and myself, in vain:
Present, I flee you: absent, I find you again:
Your image follows me in the forest's night:
The shadows of darkness, and broad daylight,
Both bring to my eyes the charms that I avoid, 545
Both snare the rebel Hippolytus on every side.
This is the reward for my excessive care:
I search for my self: and yet find no one there.
My bow, my spears, my chariot all call me.
I cannot remember now what Neptune taught me. 550
My cries alone make the woodlands ring,
And the idle horses all forget my calling.
Perhaps the tale of so wild a love will make you
Blush, hearing me, at all your charms could do.
What shy entreaty for a heart in your hands!
555
What a strange prisoner for such lovely bonds!
But the offering should be dearer to your eyes.
I speak to you in a foreign tongue, ah, realise:
Do not reject these vows, so poorly expressed,
That but for you Hippolytus had not confessed. 560

Act II Scene III (Hippolytus, Aricia, Theramenes, Ismene)

Theramenes

The Queen is here my lord: I've arrived before her.
She's seeking you.

Hippolytus

Me?

Theramenes

Of her intent I'm unaware,
But her messenger came to speak on her behalf.
Phaedra wishes to see you before you depart.

Hippolytus

Phaedra? What might she wish? What will I tell her. . . 565

Aricia

You cannot refuse, my Lord, to listen to her.
Though only too convinced of her enmity,
You owe her tears some semblance of pity.

Hippolytus

Meanwhile you leave.