_Octavia:_ Now doth the flushing dawn from heaven drive The wandering stars; the sun mounts into sight With radiant beams, and brings the world once more The light of day. Up, then, my heavy soul, With grievous cares o'erburdened, and resume 5 Thy woe; out-wail the sea-bred Halcyons, And those sad birds of old Pandion's house; For this thy lot is heavier far than theirs. O mother, constant source of tears to me, 10 Hear now thy woeful daughter's sad complaints, If aught of sense remains among the shades. Oh, that the grizzly Clotho long ago, With her own hand had clipt my thread of life! 15 Through blinding tears I saw thy bleeding wounds, Thy features sprinkled with defiling blood. Oh, light of day, abhorrent to my eyes! From that dread hour I hate the day's pure light 20 More than the night's dark gloom; for daily now Must I endure a cruel stepdame's rule, Must daily bear her hateful looks and words. She, she the baleful fury fiend it was Who at my marriage rites bore torches lit 25 With hellish fires; 'twas she who wrought thy death, O wretched father, whom but yesterday The whole world owned as lord on land and sea; To whom the Britain bowed, though ne'er before Had he a Roman master known or owned. 30 Alas, my father, by thy wife's fell plots Thou liest low, and I and all thy house Like captives groan beneath the tyrant's sway. [_Exit to her chamber._] _Nurse_ [_entering_]: Who stands in wonder, smitten by the gloss 35 And splendor of a princely court, amazed At sight of easy-won prosperity, Let him behold how, at the stroke of fate, The house of Claudius is overthrown, To whose control the world was subjugate, 40 Whose rule an ocean, long to sway unknown, Obeyed, and bore our ships with subject will. Lo, he, who first the savage Britains curbed, And filled an unknown ocean with his fleet, And passed in safety 'mid barbaric tribes-- By his own wife's impiety was slain. 45 And she is destined by her son to fall, Whose hapless brother lies already slain By poison's hand, whose sister-wife alone Is left to mourn. Nor may she hide her grief, By bitter wrath impelled to speak. She shuns Her cruel lord's society, and, fired 50 With equal hate, with mutual[55] loathing burns. Our pious faithfulness in vain consoles Her grieving heart; her cruel woes reject Our aid; the noble passion of her soul Will not be ruled, but grows on ills renewed. Alas, my fears forebode some desperate deed, 55 Which may the gods forbid!