PHAEDRA
We have gone far enough. Stay, dear Oenone;
Strength fails me, and I needs must rest awhile.
My eyes are dazzled with this glaring light So long unseen, my trembling knees refuse Support. Ah me!
OENONE
Would Heaven that our tears Might bring relief!
PHAEDRA
Ah, how these cumbrous gauds, These veils oppress me! What officious hand Has tied these knots, and gather'd o'er my brow These clustering coils? How all conspires to add To my distress!
OENONE
What is one moment wish'd, The next, is irksome. Did you not just now, Sick of inaction, bid us deck you out, And, with your former energy recall'd, Desire to go abroad, and see the light Of day once more? You see it, and would fain Be hidden from the sunshine that you sought.
PHAEDRA
Thou glorious author of a hapless race, Whose daughter 'twas my mother's boast to be, Who well may'st blush to see me in such plight, For the last time I come to look on thee, O Sun!
OENONE
What! Still are you in love with death?
Shall I ne'er see you, reconciled to life, Forego these cruel accents of despair?
PHAEDRA
Would I were seated in the forest's shade!
When may I follow with delighted eye, Thro' glorious dust flying in full career, A chariot--OENONE
Madam?
PHAEDRA
Have I lost my senses?
What said I? and where am I? Whither stray Vain wishes? Ah! The gods have made me mad.
I blush, Oenone, and confusion covers My face, for I have let you see too clearly The shame of grief that, in my own despite, O'erflows these eyes of mine.
OENONE
If you must blush, Blush at a silence that inflames your woes.
Resisting all my care, deaf to my voice, Will you have no compassion on yourself, But let your life be ended in mid course?
What evil spell has drain'd its fountain dry?
Thrice have the shades of night obscured the heav'ns Since sleep has enter'd thro' your eyes, and thrice The dawn has chased the darkness thence, since food Pass'd your wan lips, and you are faint and languid.
To what dread purpose is your heart inclined?
How dare you make attempts upon your life, And so offend the gods who gave it you, Prove false to Theseus and your marriage vows, Ay, and betray your most unhappy children, Bending their necks yourself beneath the yoke?
That day, be sure, which robs them of their mother, Will give high hopes back to the stranger's son, To that proud enemy of you and yours, To whom an Amazon gave birth, I mean Hippolytus--PHAEDRA
Ye gods!
OENONE
Ah, this reproach Moves you!
PHAEDRA
Unhappy woman, to what name Gave your mouth utterance?
OENONE
Your wrath is just.
'Tis well that that ill-omen'd name can rouse Such rage. Then live. Let love and duty urge Their claims. Live, suffer not this son of Scythia, Crushing your children 'neath his odious sway, To rule the noble offspring of the gods, The purest blood of Greece. Make no delay;
Each moment threatens death; quickly restore Your shatter'd strength, while yet the torch of life Holds out, and can be fann'd into a flame.
PHAEDRA
Too long have I endured its guilt and shame!
OENONE
Why? What remorse gnaws at your heart? What crime Can have disturb'd you thus? Your hands are not Polluted with the blood of innocence?
PHAEDRA
Thanks be to Heav'n, my hands are free from stain.
Would that my soul were innocent as they!
OENONE
What awful project have you then conceived, Whereat your conscience should be still alarm'd?
PHAEDRA
Have I not said enough? Spare me the rest.
I die to save myself a full confession.
OENONE
Die then, and keep a silence so inhuman;
But seek some other hand to close your eyes.
Tho' but a spark of life remains within you, My soul shall go before you to the Shades.
A thousand roads are always open thither;
