One too who longs for death, bring on your head?
Can Phædra, sick’ning of a dire disease
Of which she will not speak, weary of life
And of herself, form any plots against you?
Hippolytus. It is not her vain enmity I fear;
Another foe alarms Hippolytus.
I fly, it must be owned, from Aricia,
The soul survivor of an impious race.
Theramenes. What! You become her persecutor too!
The gentle sister of the cruel sons