Racine: Phaedra

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EURIPIDES
Creon.—Away, vain woman, free me from my cares.
Medea.—No lack of cares have I.
Creon.— Thou from this spot
Shalt by my servants' hands ere long be torn
Medea.—Not thus, O Creon, I your mercy crave,
Creon.—To trouble me, it seems, thou art resolved.
Medea.—I will depart, nor urge this fond request.
Creon.—Why dost thou struggle then, nor from our realm
Withdraw thyself ?
Medea.— Allow me this one day
Here to remain, till my maturer thoughts
Instruct me to what region I can fly.
Where for my sons find shelter, since their sire
Attends not to the welfare of his race.
Take pity on them, for you also know
What 'tis to be a parent, and must feel
Parental love : as for myself, I heed not
The being doomed to exile, but lament
Their hapless fortunes.
Creon.— No tyrannic rage
Within this bosom dwells, but pity oft
Hath warped my better judgment, and though now
My error I perceive, shall thy bequest
Be granted. Yet of this must I forewarn thee
H when to-morrow with his orient beams
Phoebos the world revisits, he shall view
Thee and thy children still within the bounds
Of these domains, thou certainly shalt die
Th' irrevocable sentence is pronounced.
But if thou needs must tarry, tarry here
This single day, for in so short a space
Thou canst not execute the ills I dread. [Exit Creon,
Chorus.—Alas ! thou wretched woman, overpowered
By thy afflictions, whither wilt thou turn ?
What hospitable board, what mansion, find,
Or country to protect thee from these ills ?
Into what storms of misery have the gods
Caused thee to rush
Medea.— On every side distress
Assails me : who can contradict this truth?