PHAEDRA Sad, sad and evil-starred is Woman's state. What shelter now is left or guard? What spell to loose the iron knot of fate? And this thing, O my God, O thou sweet Sunlight, is but my desert! I cannot fly before the avenging rod Falls, cannot hide my hurt. What help, O ye who love me, can come near, What god or man appear, To aid a thing so evil and so lost? Lost, for this anguish presses, soon or late, To that swift river that no life hath crossed. No woman ever lived so desolate! LEADER OF THE CHORUS Ah me, the time for deeds is gone; the boast Proved vain that spake thine handmaid; and all lost! [_At these words_ PHAEDRA _suddenly remembers the_ NURSE, _who is cowering silently where_ HIPPOLYTUS _had thrown her from him. She turns upon her_.] PHAEDRA O wicked, wicked, wicked! Murderess heart To them that loved thee! Hast thou played thy part? Am I enough trod down? May Zeus, my sire, Blast and uproot thee! Stab thee dead with fire! Said I not--Knew I not thine heart?--to name To no one soul this that is now my shame? And thou couldst not be silent! So no more I die in honour. But enough; a store Of new words must be spoke and new things thought. This man's whole being to one blade is wrought Of rage against me. Even now he speeds To abase me to the King with thy misdeeds; Tell Pittheus; fill the land with talk of sin! Cursèd be thou, and whoso else leaps in To bring bad aid to friends that want it not. [_The_ NURSE _has raised herself, and faces_ PHAEDRA, _downcast but calm_.] NURSE Mistress, thou blamest me; and all thy lot So bitter sore is, and the sting so wild, I bear with all. Yet, if I would, my Child, I have mine answer, couldst thou hearken aught. I nursed thee, and I love thee; and I sought Only some balm to heal thy deep despair, And found--not what I sought for. Else I were Wise, and thy friend, and good, had all sped right. So fares it with us all in the world's sight. PHAEDRA First stab me to the heart, then humour me With words! 'Tis fair; 'tis all as it should be! NURSE We talk too long, Child. I did ill; but, oh, There is a way to save thee, even so! PHAEDRA A way? No more ways! One way hast thou trod Already, foul and false and loathed of god! Begone out of my sight; and ponder how Thine own life stands! I need no helpers now. [_She turns from the_ NURSE, _who creeps abashed away into the Castle_.] Only do ye, high Daughters of Trozên, Let all ye hear be as it had not been; Know naught, and speak of naught! 'Tis my last prayer. LEADER By God's pure daughter, Artemis, I swear, No word will I of these thy griefs reveal!