PHE. Sweet is this light of the God, sweet is it.
ADM. Base is thy spirit and not that of men.
PHE. Thou dost not laugh as carrying an aged corse.
ADM. Thou wilt surely however die inglorious, when thou diest.
PHE. To bear an evil report is no matter to me when dead.
ADM. Alas! alas! how full of shamelessness is old age!
PHE. She was not shameless: her you found mad.
ADM. Begone, and suffer me to bury this dead.
PHE. I will depart; but you will bury her, yourself being her murderer. But you will render satisfaction to your wife's relatives yet: or surely Acastus no longer ranks among men, if he shall not revenge the blood of his sister.
ADM. Get thee gone, then, thou and thy wife; childless, thy child yet living, as ye deserve, grow old; for ye no more come into the same house with me: and if it were necessary for me to renounce by heralds thy paternal hearth, I would renounce it. But let us (for the evil before us must be borne) proceed, that we may place the corse upon the funeral pyre.