O what wilt thou do now in thy cruel dilemma?PhaedraI only know one way, one cure for these my woes and that is instant death.HippolytusO mother earth! O sun’s unclouded orb! What words, unfit for any lips, have reached my ears!NursePeace, my son, lest some one hear thy outcry.HippolytusI cannot hear such awful words and hold my peace.NurseI do implore thee by thy fair right hand.HippolytusLet go my hand, touch not my robe.NurseO by thy knees I pray, destroy me not utterly.HippolytusWhy say this, if, as thou pretendest, thy lips are free from blame?NurseMy son, this is no story to be noised abroad.HippolytusA virtuous tale grows fairer told to many.