_Theseus:_ Oh, holy piety! O thou who reign'st In heaven, and thou who rulest in the seas, Whence came this base infection of our race? 905 Was he of Grecian birth, or did he spring From Scythian Taurus or some Colchian stream? The type reverts to its ancestral stock, And blood ignoble but repeats its source. This is the madness of that savage race, To scorn all lawful love, and prostitute 910 At last the long-chaste body to the crowd. Oh, loathsome race, restrained by no good laws Which milder climes revere! The very beasts Shun love incestuous, and keep the laws Of nature with instinctive chastity. Where is that face, that feigned austerity, 915 That rough and careless garb that sought to ape The ancient customs? Where that aspect stern, That sour severity which age assumes? O life, two-faced! How thou dost hide thy thoughts! For fairest faces cover foulest hearts; The chaste demeanor hides inchastity; 920 The gentle, boldness; seeming goodness, sin. False men approve the truth; the faint of heart Affect a blustering mood. O thou, of woods Enamored, savage, rough and virgin pure, Didst thou reserve thyself for me alone? On my couch first and with so fell a crime 925 Wast thou inclined to try thy manly powers? Now, now I thank the kindly gods of heaven That long ago I slew Antiope; That, when I went below to Stygian caves, I did not leave thy mother for thy lust. Go, get thee far away to unknown lands; And there, though to her utmost bounds removed, 930 The earth should hem thee off by ocean's wastes; Though thou shouldst dwell at the Antipodes; Though to the frigid northern realms thou go, And deep within her farthest caverns hide; Or, though beyond the reach of winter placed, 935 And drifting snows, thou leave the boisterous threats Of frosty Boreas in mad pursuit: Thou still shalt meet thy fitting punishment. Persistent shall I chase thee in thy flight Through all thy hiding-places. Ways remote, Hemmed in, secluded, hard and trackless ways, I'll traverse in pursuit. No obstacle 940 Shall block my way. Thou know'st whence I return. And whither spears cannot be hurled at thee I'll hurl my prayers. My father of the sea Once promised me that thrice I might prevail With him in prayer, and ratified the boon By oath upon the inviolable Styx. [_To_ Neptune.] Thou ruler of the sea, the boon bestow, 945 And grant my prayer: let not Hippolytus Live to behold another sun's bright rays, But may he go to meet those shades of hell Enraged at my escape. O father, now I pray that aid which still I deprecate.