You wish it fo, poor good old man, you wish it. PHEDRA. With fair Ifnen! Curs'd be her cruel beauty, curs'd her charms, Curs'd all her foothing, fatal, false endearments That heavenly virgin, that exalted goodness Could fee me tortur'd with defpairing love, With artful tears could mourn my monstrouss ferings, While her bafe malice plotted my deftruction LYCON. A thousand reafons crowd upon my foul, That evidence their love. PHÆDRA. Yes, yes, they love; Why elfe fhould he refufe my proffer'd bed Why fhould one warm'd with youth, and th of glory, Difdain a foul, a form, a crown like mine? LYCON. Where, Lycon, where was then thy bo cunning? Dull, thoughtless wretch! PHEDRA. O pains unfelt before' The grief, defpair, the agonies, and pangs, All the wild fury of diftracted love, Are nought to this.-Say, famous politician, Where, when, and how, did their first pabarik Where did they breathe their fighs? What hany groves, What gloomy woods, conceal'd their hidden loves LYCON. Now ceafe that grief, and let your injar'd lov Contrive due vengeance; let majestic Præda, That lov'd the hero, facrifice the villain. Then hafte, fend forth your minitters of ve geance, To fnatch the traitor from your rival's arms, And force him trembling to your awful prefente. PHÆDRA. O rightly thought!-Difpatch th' attending guards; Bid them bring forth their inftruments of death, Darts, engines, flames, and launch into the deep, And huri fwift vengeance on the perjur'd flave. Where am I, gods? What is't my rage c mands? Ev'n now he's gone! Ev'n now the welist ad eyes. Now they expofe my weakness and my crimes: Now to the forting crowd they tell my felles [it; As ravenous vultures watch the dying lion, HIPPOLITUS, Alas! My tender foul would fhrink at death, Shake with is fears, and fink beneath its pains, In any caufe but this.. But now I'm fteel'd, And the near danger leffens to my fight. Now, if I live, 'tis only for Hippolitus; And with an equal joy I'll die to fave him. HIPPOLITUS. Could I have doom'd thy death?--Could these fat eyes, That lov'd thee living, e'er behold thes dead? Oh heavenly virgin! [Afide.]—O imperial Phæ- Think how I scream, and tear my scatter'd hair, dra, you; Let your rage fall on this devoted head; Oh by thofe Powers to whom 1 foon must anfwer For all my faults, by that bright arch of Heaven PHEDRA. I fee 'twas woman all: And woman's fraud fhould meet with woman's vengeance. But yet thy courage, truth, and virtue fhock me. had the gods fo pleas'd; had bounteous Beftow'd Hippolitus on Phædra's arms, HIPPOLITUS. And can you doom her death? Can Minos' daughter Condemn the virtue which her foul admires? Are not you Phædra? Once the boaft of Fame, Shame of our fex, and pattern of your own. PHEDRA. Am I that Phædra? No.-Another foul Informs my alter'd franie. Could elfe lfmena Provoke my hatred, yet deferve my love? Aid me, ye gods, fupport my finking glory, Reftore my reafon, and confirm my virtue. Yet, is my rage unjuft? Then why was Phædra Refcu'd for torment, and preferv'd for pain? Why did you raife me to the heighth of joy, Above the wreck of clouds and storms below, To dash and break me on the ground for ever? ISMENA. Was it not time to urge him to compliance ? At least to feign it, when perfidious Lycon Confin'd his perfon, and confpir'd his death. PHEDRA. Confin'd, and doom'd to death.-O cruel Ly con! Break from the embraces of my fhrieking maids, And harrow on the fand my bleeding bofom; Then catch, with wide-ftretch'd arms, the empty billows, And headlong plunge into the gaping deep. To one whofe humble thoughts can only rife To be your flave, not lord? PHEDRA. And is that all? Gods Does he deign to force an artful groan? Thou shalt no more despise my offer'd love; THESEUS. No: But to fave my life I feign'd my death; My horfe and well-known arms confirm'd the tale, And hinder'd farther fearch. This honeft Greek Conceal'd me in his house, and cur'd my wounds; Procur'd a veffel; and, to bless me more, Accompany'd my flight But this at leifure. Let me now indulge When first I saw thy mother, chafte Camilla; What can this coldness mean? Retire, my fon, [Exit Hippolitus. While I attend the queen.-What shock is this? Why tremble thus my limbs? why faints my heart? Why am I thrill'd with fear, till now unknown? Where's now the joy, the ecftafy, and tranfport, That warm'd my foul, and urg'd me on to Phædra? O had I never lov'd her, I'd been bleft. Sorrow and joy, in love, alternate reign; Sweet is the blifs, diftracting is the pain. So when the Nile its fruitful deluge spreads, And genial heat informs its flimy beds; Here yellow harvefts crown the fertile plain, There monstrous ferpents fright the labouring fwain: A various product fills the fatten'd fand, And the fame floods enrich and curfe the land. ACT IV. Enter LYCON folus. LYCON. This may gain time till all my wealth's embark'd, To ward my foes revenge, and finish mine, Oh he will tell it all!-Destruction feize hiz- Then the fierce Scythian-New methinks if |