Hippolytus

The death of Hippolytus is vividly described in a Messenger Speech, a staple found in most surviving Greek tragedies. These speeches tended to feature elevated language and rich visual imagery. In the original productions, the “Messenger” was typically marked by their ornate costume.

The Consequences of Divine Intervention are again apparent in the account of Hippolytus’s death: After all, it is the bull from the sea, sent by the sea god Poseidon himself, that causes the young man’s horses to panic and fatally throw him from his chariot. In this case, though, the god has no personal quarrel with his victim: Whereas Aphrodite sets out to destroy Hippolytus because she feels personally insulted by him, Poseidon is simply fulfilling one of the curses he had promised his son Theseus. Poseidon’s destruction of Hippolytus is impersonal, almost automatic (Poseidon does not even appear himself, merely sending his bovine minion to put things into motion). Nevertheless, even impersonal intervention from the gods can be destructive.

Theseus runs through a diverse range of emotions in the final scenes of the play as he confronts The Destructiveness of Love and Desire. He at first accepts the news of his son’s fatal accident coldly:

For hatred of the sufferer I was glad

at what you told me. Still, he was my son.

As such I have reverence for him and for the gods:

I neither rejoice nor sorrow at these evils (1257-260).

Theseus’s ambivalent reaction quickly transforms into despair when Artemis appears to reveal to him the truth about Phaedra’s deception. Theseus realizes his error and immediately repents: He has judged too hastily, without taking the time to investigate, and as a result the blood of his own son is on his hands. Theseus is indeed “destroyed” (1324)—though his destruction is more than anything a moral destruction, an undermining of The Meaning of Honor in his life. By behaving rashly out of grief and love for his wife, Theseus has acted dishonorably and killed another person he loves—his son.

Theseus’s recognition of his guilt allows for the reconciliation of the father with his dying son. Hippolytus graciously forgives Theseus before he dies, and in a moving scene lies in his father’s arms as he succumbs to his wounds. In condemning Hippolytus so quickly, Theseus showed how little he understood his son, whose entire sense of identity was oriented around his sexual abstinence and “purity”—his defining criteria for The Meaning of Honor. Under the circumstances, Theseus might have been at least a little skeptical of the rape accusation, rather than immediately accepting it as true. It is only an intervention from a goddess that persuades Theseus that the accusation was false, further emphasizing how stubborn and impulsive Theseus has been until that moment.

There is a mounting tension throughout the play between The Consequences of Divine Intervention and the role of human responsibility. This tension is particularly apparent in the final scenes. Phaedra, of course, views herself until the very end as a victim of divine powers, and in the world of the play this is true: Aphrodite inspired Phaedra’s insatiable desire for Hippolytus to further her own cruel agenda. Nevertheless, even if Phaedra could not suppress her feelings, she could control her actions—and her failure to do so is what constitutes her moral faults in the play. Theseus is even more accountable for his actions. Artemis tells him:

[Y]ou’ve been proven wicked both in his eyes

and mine in that you did not stay for oaths

nor voice of oracles, nor put to proof,

nor let long time investigate—too quickly

you hurled the curses at your son and killed him (1320-324).

Theseus, in short, has behaved impulsively, and his impulsivity has cost him dearly. Even as he repents, Theseus still does not assume full responsibility for his errors, asserting that “gods tripped up [his] judgment” (1414). It is left an open question as to whether human responsibility exists at all in the world of Euripides’s play, or whether all human feelings and behaviors can be reduced to the intervention—seen or unseen—of divine powers.

The appearance of Artemis initiates the conclusion of the tragedy. Artemis would have appeared on the roof of the building representing the palace of Theseus, probably suspended over the stage by a crane: This was the deus ex machina, the “god from the machine,” that featured at the end of so many of Euripides’s tragedies. Euripides was fond of bringing gods in at the end of his tragedies to tie up the loose strands of the story. Here, Artemis affects the reconciliation of Theseus and Hippolytus and promises Hippolytus cult honors in Troezen as compensation for his suffering. Artemis shows that something good can come of divine intervention.

Nevertheless, even Artemis is looking out for her own interests more than anything else: She is clearly humiliated by Aphrodite’s treatment of her favorite, referring as she does to the “shame” (1332) she has had to endure and longing for revenge as much to mend her own honor as to satiate the dying Hippolytus (who never asks to be avenged). Even in these final moments, Artemis remains distant: Her status, she claims, does not allow her to weep or even to remain with Hippolytus when he dies. There is a gulf that separates the gods from mortals, and in the end this gulf cannot be breached. All that is left for human beings in the end is their own relationships—and even those relationships, as the play has shown, are hopelessly marred by the failure of human beings to understand even those who are closest to them.