Hippolytus (1275-1313a)

Hearken, I bid thee, noble son of Aegeus:

lo! ’tis I Latona’s child, that speak, I, Artemis. Why, Theseus, to thy sorrow dost thou rejoice at these tidings, seeing that thou hast slain thy son most impiously, listening to a charge not clearly proved, but falsely sworn to by thy wife? though clearly has the curse therefrom upon thee fallen.

Why dost thou not for very shame hide beneath the dark places of the earth, or change thy human life and soar on wings to escape this tribulation? ’Mongst men of honour thou hast

now no share in life.

Hearken, Theseus; I will put thy wretched case. Yet will it naught avail thee, if I do, but vex thy heart; still with this intent I came, to show thy son’s pure heart,—that he may die with honour,—

as well the frenzy, and, in a sense, the nobleness of thy wife; for she was cruelly stung with a passion for thy son by that goddess whom all we, that joy in virgin purity, detest. And though she strove to conquer love by resolution,

yet by no fault of hers she fell, thanks to her nurse’s strategy, who did reveal her malady unto thy son under oath. But he would none of her counsels, as indeed was right, nor yet, when thou didst revile him, would he break the oath he swore, from piety.

She meantime, fearful of being found out, wrote a lying letter, destroying by guile thy son, but yet persuading thee.

Woe is me!

Doth my story wound thee, Theseus? Be still awhile; hear what follows, so wilt thou have more cause to groan.