[He is struck dead.
THE MOTHER
Alas! the Wrath of God
Flashing upon us from the angry skies,
Ah woe! this is destruction.
THE WIFE
Let it be,
Since low he lies, struck by a meteor,
With truth upon his lips.
THE MOTHER
No meteor that;
His father, my god-lover, struck him down.
THE WIFE
Since end must be what matter how it come?
Here will I sit, his head upon my breast,
Where it has lain in sleep, my arms about
His kingly body, sit, and wait the end,
Mocking at God.
THE CHORUS