Not like that! Let her sleep face downward.
(They lower her face downward, into the grave.
Cébès: May she sleep well!
Simon: There! Go! Enter, enter into the raw earth! Lie at your ease, hearing nothing, seeing nothing, your mouth pressing against the clay,
As in the days when prone upon our pillows we rushed towards sleep!
And now I shall load a burden of earth on your back!
(He throws the earth into the grave. When it is full he walks on it, stamping it down.
Fill it up! Room must be found for the earth whose place you have taken.
—So there are none of my family left?
Cébès: Not one. The house is closed. The fields lie fallow.