Spenser.
“O my sweet child! And of many so powerful, many so wise and so beneficent, was there none to save thee? None! none!”
Essex.
“I now perceive that thou lamentest what almost every father is destined to lament. Happiness must be bought, although the payment may be delayed. Consider; the same calamity might have befallen thee here in London. Neither the houses of ambassadors, nor the palaces of kings, nor the altars of God himself, are asylums against death. How do I know but under this very roof there may sleep some latent calamity, that in an instant shall cover with gloom every inmate of the house, and every far dependent?”
Spenser.
“God avert it!”
Essex.
“Every day, every hour of the year, do hundreds mourn what thou mournest.”
Spenser.
“Oh, no, no, no! Calamities there are around us; calamities there are all over the earth; calamities there are in all seasons; but none in any season, none in any place, like mine.”