What is it?
Amin. Why, tis this—it is too bigge
To get out—let my teares make way awhile.
Mel. Punish me strangely, Heaven, if he escape
Of life or fame, that brought this youth to this.[42]
The cry with which Electra turns to her peasant husband in the play of Euripides is perhaps as fine an instance as there is of natural description by one person of her relations to another.
Peasant. What wouldst thou now, my sad one, ever fraught
With toil to lighten my toil? And so soft
Thy nurture was! Have I not chid thee oft,
And thou wilt cease not, serving without end?