Phaedra: (wildly) Lift my body, raise my head! My limbs are all unstrung,
kind friends. O handmaids, lift my arms, my shapely arms. The tire
on my head is too heavy for me to wear; away with it, and let my tresses
o'er my shoulders fall.
Be of good heart, dear child; toss not so wildly to and fro. Lie still,
be brave, so wilt thou find thy sickness easier to bear; suffering
for mortals is nature's iron law.
Phaedra: Ah! would I could draw a draught of water pure from some
dew-fed spring, and lay me down to rest in the grassy meadow 'neath
the poplar's shade!
Nurse: My child, what wild speech is this? O say not such things in
public, wild whirling words of frenzy bred!
Phaedra: Away to the mountain take me! to the wood, to the pine-trees
will go, where hounds pursue the prey, hard on the scent of dappled
fawns. Ye gods! what joy to hark them on, to grasp the barbed dart,
to poise Thessalian hunting-spears close to my golden hair, then let
them fly.
Studies
