Theseus has heard Oenone's story, and he is wild with rage and grief. He cannot doubt that his son has threatened and assaulted his wife; he has seen with his own eyes the sword which Hippolytus left behind with the women. But why did Phaedra herself not tell him the truth?
Oenone explains that Phaedra wished only to spare her husband this shame and sorrow and was preparing to die rather than speak when Oenone found her, heard her story, and came to inform Theseus. Theseus, remembering the hesitancy and fear with which Hippolytus greeted him upon his return, sees in it the signs of his guilt, and Oenone's reminder of Phaedra's old dislike for Hippolytus further convinces him that his son has loved his wife for a long time.
Yet when Hippolytus, who has gathered the courage to speak to him of Aricia, enters and innocently inquires what is causing his father distress, Theseus disdains a noble and virtuous exterior that can hide such a treacherous nature, and the contrast makes his anger more bitter. How dare Hippolytus appear before him, monster that he is, after forcing his incestuous attentions upon his father's wife? He should flee and not tempt his anger further. But Theseus will not kill him with his own hands; the shame of having a criminal son is enough, without soiling his hands with that son's blood. Instead, he calls upon his ancestor Neptune to grant the boon he once promised Theseus and avenge an unhappy father upon his traitorous son.
Hippolytus, at first speechless in the face of his father's accusations, gains courage through anger as Theseus continues to accuse him. Phaedra's story is a lie, he declares, and if he would, he could reveal the truth, but respect for his father seals his lips. Theseus should, however, reflect that Hippolytus' whole life and character give the lie to this accusation; there are always early signs of a vicious nature. And Hippolytus is not only the offspring of a chaste and virtuous Amazon; his life has been famous for its purity. To Theseus, however, Hippolytus' famed chastity only adds more weight to Phaedra's story. Of course he was not interested in other women—he coveted only Phaedra.
Again Hippolytus protests. It is not true he loves Phaedra. He does love, and he has come to confess his real offense against his father: He has spoken of love to Aricia despite his father's orders. For an instant Theseus believes, but the confession, which in effect contradicts Hippolytus' previous defense, comes at the wrong place and the wrong time. It is a pretense, he declares, intended to cover up Hippolytus' real crime.
Hippolytus cries, "Phaedra in the depths of her heart judges me more fairly than you" and asks where his exile is to be. Theseus does not care, so long as it is out of his sight, nor does he care where his son finds friends and support—no doubt other traitors and incestuous adulterers will come to his aid. Hippolytus retorts that if the subject is to be adultery and incest, Phaedra comes from a family more noted for these crimes than his own. Theseus, further infuriated, drives him from his presence. Alone, he calls once again upon Neptune to revenge him upon his son for the outrage Hippolytus has committed against him.
