asted by death, is not supportable, when it were in one's
power to be without children and unmarried the whole of life.

CHOR. Fate, fate hard to be struggled with hath come.

(ADM. Oh! Oh!)

But puttest thou no bound to thy sorrows?

(ADM. Alas! alas!)

Heavy are they to bear, but still

(ADM. Woe! woe!)

endure, thou art not the first man that hast lost

(ADM. Ah me! me!)

thy wife; but calamity appearing afflicts different men in different
shapes.

ADM. O lasting griefs, and sorrows for our friends beneath the earth!--Why
did you hinder me from throwing myself[41] into her hallowed grave, and
from lying dead with her, by far the most excellent woman? And Pluto would
have retained instead of one, two most faithful souls having together
passed over the infernal lake.

CHOR. I had a certain kinsman, whose son worthy to be lamented, an only
child, died in his house; but nevertheless he bore his calamity with
moderation, being bereft of child, though now hastening to gray hairs, and
advanced in life.

ADM. O house, how can I enter in? and how dwell in thee now my fortune has
undergone this change? Ah me! for there is great difference between: then
indeed with Pelian torches, and with bridal songs I entered in, bearing the
hand of my dear wife, and there followed a loud-shouting revelry hailing
happy both her that is dead and me, inasmuch as being noble, and born of
illustrious parents both, we were united together: but now the groan
instead of hymeneals, and black array instead of white robes, usher me in
to my deserted couch.

CHOR. This grief came quick on happy fortune to thee unschooled in evil:
but thou hast saved thy life. Thy wife is dead, she left her love behind:
what new thing this? Death has ere this destroyed many wives.

ADM. My friends, I deem the fortune of my wife more happy than mine own,
even although these things appear not so. For her indeed no grief shall
ever touch, and she hath with glory ceased from many toils. But I, who
ought not to have lived, though I have scaped destiny, shall pass a bitter
life; I but now perceive. For how can I bear the entering into this house?
Whom speaking to, or by whom addressed,[42] can I have joy in entering?
Whither shall I turn me? For the solitude within will drive me forth, when
I see the place where my wife used to lie, empty, and the seat whereon she
used to sit, and the floor throughout the house all dirty, and when my
children falling about m