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!