THES. Know ye, females, what noise this is in my house? a heavy sound of my attendants reached me. For the family does not think fit to open the gates to me and to hail me with joy as having returned from the oracle. Has any ill befallen the aged Pittheus? His life is now indeed far advanced; but still he would be much lamented by us, were he to leave this house.
CHOR. This that has happened, Theseus, extends not to the old; the young are they that by their death will grieve thee.
THES. Alas me! is the life of any of my children stolen from me?
CHOR. They live, but their mother is dead in a way that will grieve thee most.
THES. What sayest? My wife dead? By what fate?
CHOR. She suspended the noose, wherewith she strangled herself.
THES. Wasted with sorrow, or from some sudden calamity?
CHOR. Thus much we know—nothing further; for I am but just come to thy house, Theseus, to bewail thy evils.
THES. Alas! alas! why then have I my head crowned with entwined leaves, who am the unhappy inquirer of the oracle? Servants, undo the bars of the gates; unloose the bolts, that I may behold the mournful spectacle of my wife, who by her death hath utterly undone me.
CHOR. Alas! alas! unhappy for thy wretched ills: thou hast been a sufferer; thou hast perpetrated a deed of such extent as to throw this house into utter confusion. Alas! alas! thy boldness, O thou who hast died a violent death, and, by an unhallowed chance, the act committed by thy wretched hand. Who is it then, thou unhappy one, that destroys thy life?