HUNTSMAN
She stands here at thy gate: the Cyprian Queen!

HIPPOLYTUS
I greet her from afar: my life is clean.

HUNTSMAN
Clean? Nay, proud, proud; a mark for all to scan!

HIPPOLYTUS
Each mind hath its own bent, for God or man.

HUNTSMAN
God grant thee happiness ... and wiser thought!

HIPPOLYTUS
These Spirits that reign in darkness like me not.

HUNTSMAN
What the Gods ask, O Son, that man must pay!

HIPPOLYTUS (_turning from him to the others_).
On, huntsmen, to the Castle! Make your way
Straight to the feast room; 'tis a merry thing
After the chase, a board of banqueting.
And see the steeds be groomed, and in array
The chariot dight. I drive them forth to-day
[_He pauses, and makes a slight gesture of reverence to the Statue on
the left. Then to the_ OLD HUNTSMAN.]
That for thy Cyprian, friend, and nought beside!