For in his fall the universe laments.
Think not on private griefs; the human race
Lifts up the voice of mourning. All the world760
Is grieving with the selfsame grief thou feel'st.
Thou shar'st thy misery with every land.
Thou hast, indeed, forestalled their grief, poor soul;
Thou first, but not alone, dost weep for him.
Deianira: Yet tell me, tell, I pray, how near to death765
Lies my Alcides now.
Hyllus: Death flees his grasp,