You who love wild passions, flee the holy austerity of my pleasures. All here breathes of God, peace and truth.
When I'm carried away, isn't it clear that my heart contradicts my mouth?
Me, rule? Me, place the State under my law, when my feeble reason no longer rules even myself!
I felt for my crime a just terror; I looked on my life with hate, and my passion with horror.
By dying I wanted to maintain my honor, and hide a flame so black from the daylight!
Hippolytus can feel, and feels nothing for me!
Ah, why can't I know if I love, or if I hate?
