Phaedra
O the cruel, unhappy fate of women!
1
What arts, what arguments have we, once we have made a slip, to loose by craft
2
the tight-drawn knot? I have met my deserts. O earth, O light of day! How can I escape the stroke of fate? How my pangs conceal, kind friends?
670
What god will appear to help me, what mortal to take my part or help me in unrighteousness? The present calamity of my life admits of no escape. Most hapless I of all my sex!
675
Hippolytus. Euripides. Edward P. Coleridge (Translator). London. 1906.
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