Phaedra: This sword shall tell,
Which in his terror at our loud laments,
The adulterer left, fearing the citizens.
Theseus: Ah me! What villainy do I behold?
What monstrous deed is this? The royal sword,
Its ivory hilt with tiny signs engraved,
Shines out, the glory of the Athenian race.900
But he—where has he gone?
Phaedra: These slaves have seen
How, borne on speeding feet, he fled away.