Wakes all alone and while the rain drives against the windows, he hears the sound of a falling silver spoon.
And the smile has mercifully been given to the old.
Cébès: She is dead.
Simon: A woman has withdrawn her hand from mine, mysteriously veiling her eyes.
And I, her mate, am left alone.
To what pale region of the air shall I raise my yearning mouth?
What shall I repeat in my silence, "I shall find strength, I shall make the effort...."
Ah, where shall I look? Where shall I go? The skies are like iron and I remain here, the woman's legacy, full of vague menaces and anguished cries.
—What is there left in life? I have travelled. I have seen the world. O worthless calendar of petty days!
Though the members of my body