Ye wrench my wounds asunder. Where Is grief like mine, whose wife is dead? My wife, whom would I ne'er had wed, Nor loved, nor held my house with her.... Blessed are they who dare to dwell Unloved of woman! 'Tis but one Heart that they bleed with, and alone Can bear their one life's burden well. No young shall wither at their side, No bridal room be swept by death.... Aye, better man should draw his breath For ever without child or bride. CHORUS . --'Tis Fate, 'tis Fate: She is strong and none shall break her. --No end, no end, Wilt thou lay to lamentations? --Endure and be still: Thy lamenting will not wake her. --There be many before thee, Who have suffered and had patience. --Though the face of Sorrow changeth, yet her hand is on all nations.

Admetus Monologue from Alcestis

Rehearse Admetus's monologue