Act Five

SCENE VI.

THERAMENE.
The shy Aricie then arrived:
She was coming, lord, fleeing your wrath,
In the face of the gods to accept him as a husband.
She approaches; she sees the red and smoking grass;
She sees (what an object for a lover’s eyes!)
Hippolyte stretched out, without form and without color …
She wants to doubt her misfortune for a while;
And, no longer knowing this hero she adores,
She sees Hippolyte, and asks again.
But too sure in the end that he’s in front of her eyes,
With a sad look she accuses the gods;
And cold, moaning, and almost lifeless,
At her lover’s feet she falls swooning.
Ismene is near her; Ismene, all in tears,
Calls her back to life, or rather to pain.
And I, I came, hating the light,
Tell you of a hero the last will,
And discharge me, lord, of the unfortunate job
Whose dying heart rested on me.
But I see his deadly enemy coming.

Phèdre, Racine, 1697