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; Pain'd at your want of confidence, I'll choose The shortest. Cruel one, when has my faith Deceived you! Think how in my arms you lay New born. For you, my country and my children I have forsaken. Do you thus repay My faithful service? PHAEDRA What do you expect From words so bitter? Were I to break silence Horror would freeze your blood. OENONE What can you say To horrify me more than to behold You die before my eyes? PHAEDRA When you shall know My crime, my death will follow none the less, But with the added stain of guilt. OENONE Dear Madam, By all the tears that I have shed for you, By these weak knees I clasp, relieve my mind From torturing doubt. PHAEDRA It is your wish. Then rise. OENONE I hear you. Speak. PHAEDRA Heav'ns! How shall I begin? OENONE Dismiss vain fears, you wound me with distrust. PHAEDRA O fatal animosity of Venus! Into what wild distractions did she cast My mother! OENONE Be they blotted from remembrance, And for all time to come buried in silence.