laying out the corpse.

(THESEUS and his retinue have entered, unnoticed.)
THESEUS

Women, can ye tell me what the uproar in the palace means? There
came the sound of servants weepingbitterly to mine ear. None of my

household deign to open wide the gates and give me glad welcome as
traveller from prophetic shrines. Hath aught befallen old Pittheus?

No, Though he be well advanced in years, yet should I mourn, were he
to quit this house.

LEADER
'Tis not against the old, Theseus, that fate, to strike thee, aims

this blow; prepare thy sorrow for a younger corpse.
THESEUS

Woe is me! is it a child's life death robs me of?
LEADER

They live; but, cruellest news of all for thee, their mother is no
more.

THESEUS
What! my wife dead? By what cruel stroke of chance?

LEADER
About her neck she tied the hangman's knot.

THESEUS
Had grief so chilled her blood? or what had befallen her?

LEADER
I know but this, for I am myself but now arrived at the house to

mourn thy sorrows, O Theseus.
THESEUS

Woe is me! why have I crowned my head with woven garlands, when
misfortune greets my embassage? Unbolt the doors, servants, loose

their fastenings, that I may see the piteous sight, my wife, whose
death is death to me.

(The central doors of the palace open, disclosing the corpse.)
Woe! woe is thee for thy piteous lot! thou hast done thyself a

hurt deep enough to overthrow this family. Ah! ah! the daring of it
done to death by violence and unnatural means, the desperate effort of

thy own poor hand! Who cast the shadow o'er thy life, poor lady?
THESEUS (chanting)

Ah me, my cruel lot! sorrow hath done her worst on me. O
fortune, how heavily hast thou set thy foot on me and on my house,

by fiendish hands inflicting an unexpected stain? Nay, 'tis complete
effacement of my life, making it not to be lived; for I see, alas!

so wide an ocean of grief that I can never swim to shore again, nor
breast the tide of this calamity. How shall I speak of thee, my poor

wife, what tale of direst suffering tell? Thou art vanished like a
bird from the covert of my hand, taking one headlong leap from me to

Hades' halls. Alas, and woe! this is a bitter, bitter sight! This must
be a judgment sent by God for the sins of an ancestor, which from some

far source I am bringing on myself.
LEADER OF THE CHORUS

My prince, 'tis not to thee alone such sorrows come; thou hast
lost a noble wife, but so have many others.

THESEUS (chanting)
Fain would I go hide me 'neath earth's blackest depth, to dwell in

darkness with the dead in misery, now that I am reft of thy dear
presence! for thou hast slain me than thyself e'en more. Who can

tell me what caused the fatal stroke that reached thy heart, dear
wife? Will no one tell me what befell? doth my palace all in vain give

shelter to a herd of menials? Woe, woe for thee, my wife! sorrows past
speech, past bearing, I behold within my house; myself ruined man,

my home a solitude, my children orphans!
CHORUS (chanting)

Gone and left us hast thou, fondest wife and noblest of all
women 'neath the sun's bright eye or night's star-lit radiance. Poor

house, what sorrows are thy portion now! My eyes are wet with
streams of tears to see thy fate; but the ill that is to follow has

long with terror filled me.
THESEUS

Ha! what means this letter? clasped in her dear hand it hath
some strange tale to tell. Hath she, poor lady, as a last request,

written her bidding as to my marriage and her children? Take heart,
poor ghost; no wife henceforth shall wed thy Theseus or invade his

house. Ah! how yon en ring affects my sight! Come, I will unfold the
sealed packet and read her letter's message to me.

CHORUS (chanting)
Woe unto us! Here is yet another evil in the train by heaven sent.

Looking to what has happened, I should count my lot in life no
longer worth one's while to gain. My master's house, alas! is

ruined, brought to naught, I say. Spare it, O Heaven, if it may be.
Hearken to my prayer, for I see, as with prophetic eye, an omen boding

ill.
THESEUS

O horror! woe on woe! and still they come, too deep for words,
to heavy to bear. Ah me!

LEADER OF THE CHORUS
What is it? speak, if I may share in it.

THESEUS (chanting)
This letter loudly tells a hideous tale! where can I escape my

load of woe? For I am ruined and undone, so awful are the words I find
here written clear as if she cried them to me; woe is me!

LEADER
Alas! thy words declare themselves the harbingers of woe.

THESEUS
I can no longer keep the cursed tale within the portal of my lips,

cruel though its utterance be. Ah me! Hippolytus hath dared by
brutal force to violate my honour, recking naught of Zeus, whose awful

eye is over all. O father Poseidon, once didst thou promise to
fulfil three prayers of mine; answer one of these and slay my son, let

him not escape this single day, if the prayers thou gavest me were
indeed with issue fraught.

LEADER
O king, I do conjure thee, call back that prayer; hereafter thou

wilt know thy error. Hear, I pray.
THESEUS

It cannot be! Moreover I will banish him from this land, and by
one of two fates shall he be struck down; either Poseidon, out of

respect to my prayer, will cast his dead body into the house of Hades;
or exiled from this land, a wanderer to some foreign shore, shall he

eke out a life of misery.
LEADER

Lo! where himself doth come, thy son Hippolytus, in good time;
dismiss thy hurtful rage, King Theseus, and bethink thee what is

best for thy house,
(HIPPOLYTUS enters.)

HIPPOLYTUS
I heard thy voice, father, and hasted to come hither; yet know I

not the cause of thy present sorrow, but would fain learn of thee.
(He sees PHAEDRA'S body.)

Ha! what is this? thy wife is dead? 'Tis very strange; it was
but now I left her; a moment since she looked upon the light. How came

she thus? the manner of her death? this would I learn of thee, father.
Art dumb? silence availeth not in trouble; nay, for the heart that

fain would know all must show its curiosity even in sorrow's hour.
Be sure it is not right, father, to hide misfortunes from those who

love, ay, more than love thee.
THESEUS

O ye sons of men, victims of a thousand idle errors, why teach
your countless crafts, why scheme and seek to find a way for

everything, while one thing ye know not nor ever yet have made your
prize, a way to teach them wisdom whose souls are void of sense?

HIPPOLYTUS