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SCENE IX.
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SCENE IX.

Creusa, Dirce.
Creu.
Say, Dirce, wherefore seem'st thou thus unmov'd,
When, with thy husband, thou art made the theme
Of every tongue?—Go—seek him, learn the cause—
Thou hear'st me not—Why are thy languid eyes
Cast down to earth?—Shake off this lethargy.
'Tis madness to reject a friendly counsel:
If more thou canst not—give thy sorrows vent,
At least lament aloud and break this silence.

Dirce.
How shall I speak to thee again,
And in what words reply?
I seek to oppose my fate in vain,
I would, but cannot fly.

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My senses numb'd with sudden dread,
No longer can complain;
No tears, alas! have I to shed,
No voice to tell my pain.

[Exit.