HIPPOLYTUS Justly indignant at a lie so black I might be pardon'd if I told the truth; But it concerns your honour to conceal it. Approve the reverence that shuts my mouth; And, without wishing to increase your woes, Examine closely what my life has been. Great crimes are never single, they are link'd To former faults. He who has once transgress'd May violate at last all that men hold Most sacred; vice, like virtue, has degrees Of progress; innocence was never seen To sink at once into the lowest depths Of guilt. No virtuous man can in a day Turn traitor, murderer, an incestuous wretch. The nursling of a chaste, heroic mother, I have not proved unworthy of my birth. Pittheus, whose wisdom is by all esteem'd, Deign'd to instruct me when I left her hands. It is no wish of mine to vaunt my merits, But, if I may lay claim to any virtue, I think beyond all else I have display'd Abhorrence of those sins with which I'm charged. For this Hippolytus is known in Greece, So continent that he is deem'd austere. All know my abstinence inflexible: The daylight is not purer than my heart. How, then, could I, burning with fire profane-- THESEUS Yes, dastard, 'tis that very pride condemns you. I see the odious reason of your coldness Phaedra alone bewitch'd your shameless eyes; Your soul, to others' charms indifferent, Disdain'd the blameless fires of lawful love. HIPPOLYTUS No, father, I have hidden it too long, This heart has not disdain'd a sacred flame. Here at your feet I own my real offence: I love, and love in truth where you forbid me; Bound to Aricia by my heart's devotion, The child of Pallas has subdued your son. A rebel to your laws, her I adore, And breathe forth ardent sighs for her alone. THESEUS You love her? Heav'ns! But no, I see the trick. You feign a crime to justify yourself. HIPPOLYTUS Sir, I have shunn'd her for six months, and still Love her. To you yourself I came to tell it, Trembling the while. Can nothing clear your mind Of your mistake? What oath can reassure you? By heav'n and earth and all the pow'rs of nature-- THESEUS The wicked never shrink from perjury. Cease, cease, and spare me irksome protestations, If your false virtue has no other aid. HIPPOLYTUS Tho' it to you seem false and insincere, Phaedra has secret cause to know it true. THESEUS Ah! how your shamelessness excites my wrath!