Then let it raife your fear as well as wrath: Think how you wrong'd him, to his father wrong'd him;

Think how you drove him hence a wand'ring exile To diftant climes; then think what certain vengeance

Phad. Why blaze thefe jewels round my His rage may wreak on your unhappy orphan.

Afflict my foul with any thing but guilt,
And yet that guilt is mine.-I'll think no more;
I'll to the woods among the happier brutes.
Come, let's away; hark, the fhrill horn refounds,
The jolly huntfmen's cries rend the wide heavens.
Come, o'er the hills purfue the bounding stag,
Come, chafe the lion and the foamy boar;
Come, roufe up all the monsters of the wood;
For there, even there, Hippolitus will guard me.
Ly. Hippolitus!

Phad. Who 's he that names Hippolitus?
Ah! I'm betray'd, and all my guilt difcover'd.
O' give me poifon, fwords; I'll not live, nor
bear it ;

I'll ftop my breath.

lim I'm loft, but what 's that lofs? Hippolitus is loft, or loft to me:

Yet thould her charms prevail upon his foul,
Should he be falfe, I would not with him ill;
With my laft parting breath I'd blefs my lord:
Then in fore lonely defert place expire,
Whence my unhappy death fhall never
him,

reach

Left it should wound his peace, or damp his joys.
[ Afide
Loc. Think fill the fecret in your royal breaft,
For by the awful majefty of Jove,
By the all-feeing sun, by righteous Minos,
By all your kindred gods we fwear, O Phædra,
Safe
as our lives we 'll keep the fatal fecret.
Ifm. &c. We twear, all fwear to keep it ever
fecret.

Phad. Keep it from whom? why it's already
known,

The tale, the whisper of the babbling vulgar :

Phad. Yes, at first.

That fatal ev'ning we purfued the chace,
When from behind the wood, with rustling
found,

A monstrous boar rufh'd forth: his baleful eyes
Shot glaring fire, and his ftiff-pointed briftles
Rofe high upon his back at me he made,
Whetting his tusks, and churning hideous foam :
Then, then Hippolitus flew in to aid me:
Collecting all himfelf, and rifing to the blow,
He launch'd the whistling spear; the well-aim'd
javelin

Pierc'd his tough hide, and quiver'd in his
heart;

The monfter fell, and, gnafhing, with huge tufks Plow'd up the crimfon earth. But then Hippolitus!

Gods! how he mov'd and look'd when he ap-
proach'd me!

When hot and panting from the favage conquest,
Dreadful as Mars, and as his Venus lovely,
His crimson cheeks with purple beauties glow'd,
His lovely sparkling eyes fhot martial fires.
O godlike form! O ecitafy and tranfport!
My breath grew fhort, my beating heart fprung
upward,

And leap'd and bounded in my heaving bofom.
Alas! I'm pleas'd; the horrid ftory charms me.
No more-That night with fear and love I
ficken'd.

Oft I receiv'd his fatal charming visits;
Then would he talk with fuch an heavenly grace,
Look with fuch dear compaffion on my pains,
That I could wish to be fo fick for ever.

My ears, my greedy eyes, my thirty foul,
Drank gorging in the dear delicious poison,
Till I was loft, quite loft in impious love.
And fhall I drag an execrable life?

And fhall I hoard up guilt, and treasure ven-
geance?

Lyc. No; labour, ftrive, fubdue that guilt, and live.

Phad. Did I not labour, frive, all-feeing

pow'rs!

Did I not weep and pray, implore your aid!
Burn clouds of incenfe on your loaded altars?

O, can you keep it from yourfelves, unknow it! I call'd heaven and earth to my affiftance,

Or do you think I'm fo far gone in guilt,
That I can fec, can bear the looks, the eyes
Of one who knows my black detefted crimes,
Of one who knows that Phædra loves her fon?
Lyr. Unhappy queen! auguft, unhappy race!
O why did Thefeus touch this fatal thore?
Why did he fave us from Nicander's arms,
To bring worfe ruin on us by his love?

Phad. His love indeed; for that unhappy hour
In which the priest join'd Thefeus' hand to mine,
Shew'd the young Scythian to my dazzled eyes.
Gods! how I fhook! what boiling heat inflam'd
My panting breaft! how from the touch of
Thefeus

My flack hand dropp'd, and all the idle pomp,
Priests, alrars, victims, fwam before my fight!
The god of love, ev'n the whole god, poffefs'd me.
Lc. At once, at first poffefs'd you !

All the ambitious thirft of fame and empire,
And all the honeft pride of confcious virtue :
I ftruggled, rav'd; the new-born paffion reign'd
Almighty in its birth.

Lyc. Did you e'er try
To gain his love?

Phæd. Avert fuch crimes, ye pow'rs!
No; to avoid his love I fought his hatred:
I wrong'd him, fhunn'd him, banish'd him from
Crete :

I fent him, drove him from my longing fight:
In vain I drove him, for his tyrant form
Reign'd in my heart, and dwelt before my eyes.
If to the gods I pray'd, the very vows

I made to Heaven were by my erring tongue
Spoke to Hippolitus. If tried to fleep,
Straight to my drowly eyes n y refilet's fancy
Brought back his fatal form,and curs diy flumber.

Lyc.

Phad. But fhould the youth refufe my proffer'd love?

O, fhould he throw me from his loathing arms?

To meet the numerous troops of fierce Molof-I fear the trial; for I know Hippolitus fians;

Since he is dead whofe valour fav'd your ifle,
Whose prudent care with flowing plenty crown'd
His peaceful fubjects; as your tow ring Ida,
With spreading oaks, and with defcending
ftreams,

Shades and enriches all the plains below.
Say how he died.

Meff. He died as Thefeus ought,

In battle died: Philotas, now a prifoner,
That rushing on fought next his royal person,
That faw his thund'ring arm beat squadrons|1
down,

Saw the great rival of Alcides fall.

fwear,

This fword which first gain'd youthful Thefeus
honour,

Which oft has punish'd perjury and falfehood;
By thund'ring Jove, by Grecian Hercules,
By the majestic form of godlike heroes,
That thine around, and confecrate the feel;
No racks, no fhame, thall ever force it from me.
Phad. Hippolitus.

Hip. Yes, 'tis that wretch, who begs you to
difmifs

That hated object from your eyes for ever;
Begs leave to march against the foes of Thefeus,
And to revenge or fhare his father's fate.

Phad, O Hippolitus!

I own I've wrong'd you, most unjustly wrong'

you;

Drove you from court, from Crete, and from

your father:

The court, all Crete, deplor'd their fuff'ring hero,
And I (the fad occafion) most of all.

Yet could you know relenting Phædra's foul!
O! could you think with what reluctant grief
I wrong'd the hero whom I wish'd to cherith!
O! you'd confefs me wretched, not unkind;
And own thofe ills did moft deferve your pity,
Which moft procur'd your hate.

Hip. My hate to Phædra!

Ha! could I hate the royal spouse of Thefeus,
My queen, my mother?

Phad. Why your queen and mother?
More humble ties would fuit my loft condition.
Alas! the iron hand of death is on me,
And I have only time t' implore your pardon.
Ah! would my lord forget injurious Phædra,
And with compaflion view her helpless orphan!
Would he receive him to his dear protection,
Defend his youth from all encroaching foes!
Hip. O, I'll defend him, with my life defend

him!.

Heaven dart your judgment on this faithlefs head,
If I don't pay him all a flave's obedience,
And all a father's love!

Phæd. A father's love!

O doubtful founds! O vain deceitful hopes!

eyes

Sparkled with youthful fires; when ev'ry grace
Stone in the father which now crowns the fon,
When Thefeus was Hippolitus.

Hip. Ha amazement ftrikes me;
Where will this end?

Lyc. Is 't difficult to guess?

Does not her flying palen fs, that but now
Sat cold and languid in her fading cheek
(Where now fucceeds a momentary luftre),
Does not her beating heart, her trembling
limbs,

Her withing looks, her fpeech, her prefent
filence,

All, all proclaim imperial Phædra loves you?

Hip. What do I hear? what, does no light

ning flash,

No thunder bellow, when fuch monftrous crimes

Are own'd, avow'd, confefs'd? All-feeing fun!

Hide, hide in thameful night thy beamy head,
And ceafe to view the horrors of thy race.
Alas! I fhare th' amazing guilt; thefe eyes,
That first infpir'd the black inceftuous flame;
Thefe ears, that heard the tale of impious love,
Are all accurft, and all deferve your thunder.

Pb.ed. Alas, my lord! believe me not fo vile.
No; by thy goddefs, by the chafte Diana,
None but my firit, my much-lov'd lord Ar-
famnes

Was e'er receiv'd in thefe unhappy arms.
No-for the love of thee, of thofe dear charms
Which now I fee are doom'd to be my ruin,
I ftili denied my lord, my hufband Thefeus,
The chafte, the modeft joys of spotlefs mar-

riage;

That drove him hence to war, to ftormy feas,
To rocks and waves, les cruel than his Phædra.
Hip. If that drove Thefeus hence, then that

kill'd Thefeus,

And cruel Phædra kill'd her husband Thefeus.

Phad. Forbear, rath youth, nor dare to roufe

my vengeance;
Provoke me not: nor tempt my fwe'ling rage
With black reproaches, forn and provocation,

To do a deed my reafon would abhor.
Long has the fecret fruggled i my breaft,
Long has it rack'd and rent my tortur'd bofom :
But now 'tis out. Shame, rage, confufion, tear

My grief's much eas'd by this transcending And drive me on to act unheard-of crimes;

goodness,

And Thefeus' death fits lighter on my foul.
Death! he's not dead: he lives, he breathes, he
Speaks;

To muider thee, myself, and all that know it.
As when corvuifions cleave the lab'ring earth,
Before the di mai yawn appears, the ground
Trembles and heaves, the nodding houfes crafh.
Y y

He's