She is dead, poor lady, so I hear. Already are they laying out the corpse. Theseus Ladies, can ye tell me what the uproar in the palace means? There came the sound of servants weeping bitterly to mine ear. None of my household deign to open wide the gates and give me glad welcome as a traveller from prophetic shrines. Hath aught befallen old Pittheus? No. Though he be well advanced in years, yet should I mourn, were he to quit this house. Chorus ’Tis not against the old, Theseus, that fate, to strike thee, aims this blow; prepare thy sorrow for a younger corpse. Theseus Woe is me! is it a child’s life death robs me of? Chorus They live; but, cruellest news of all for thee, their mother is no more. Theseus What! my wife dead? By what cruel mischance? Chorus About her neck she tied the hangman’s knot. Theseus Had grief so chilled her blood? or what had befallen her? Chorus I know but this, for I am myself but now arrived at the house to mourn thy sorrows, O Theseus.