Cho. Enough! why have aught to do with that which brings down death?
Cre. What means this piteous strain? wherefore this alarm?
Cho. Are we to speak or keep silence? What shall we do?
Cre. Speak; for thou hast somewhat to tell that touches me.
Cho. Then speak I will, though twice to die were mine. O mistress mine! never shalt thou hold a babe within thy arms or clasp him to thy breast.
Cre. Ah me! would I were dead!
Old Ser. My daughter!
Cre. O woe is me for my calamity! Mine is a heritage of suffering and woe that poisons life, good friends.
Old Ser. Ah, my child, 'tis death to us!
Cre. Ah me! ah me! grief drives its weapon through this heart of mine.
Old Ser. Stay thy lamentations.
Cre. Nay, but sorrow lodges here.
Old Ser. Till we learn
Cre. Ah, what further news is there for me?
Old Ser. Whether our master is in the same plight and shares thy misfortune, or thou art alone in thy misery.
Cho. On him, old sir, Loxias hath bestowed a son, and he is enjoying his good fortune apart from her.
Cre. Herein hast thou declared a further evil crowning all, a grief for me to mourn.
Old Ser. The child of whom thou speakest is he some woman's destined babe, or did the god declare the fate of one already born?
Cho. A youth already born and grown to man's estate doth Phœbus give to him; for I was there myself.
Cre. What sayest thou? nor tongue nor lip should speak the word thou tellest me.
