Alas, and woe! this is a bitter, bitter sight! This must be a judgment sent by God for the sins of an ancestor, which from some far source I am bringing on myself. Chorus My prince, ’tis not to thee alone such sorrows come; thou hast lost a noble wife, but so have many others. Theseus Fain would I go hide me ’neath earth’s blackest depth, to dwell in darkness with the dead in misery, now that I am reft of thy dear presence! for thou hast slain me than thyself e’en more. Who can tell me what caused the fatal stroke that reached thy heart, dear wife? Will no one tell me what befell? doth my palace all in vain give shelter to a herd of menials? Woe, woe for thee, my wife! sorrows past speech, past bearing, I behold within my house; myself a ruined man, my home a solitude, my children orphans! Chorus Gone Lines 848-851 attributed to Theseus in the Greek. and left us hast thou, fondest wife and noblest of all women ’neath the sun’s bright eye or night’s star-lit radiance. Reading with Jacobs, whom Nauck follows, ἀστεπωπὸν σέλας . Chorus Poor house, what sorrows are thy portion now! My eyes are wet with streams of tears to see thy fate; but the sequel to this tragedy has long with terror filled me.