'Tis a wife's that hath borne children--this the wise, the holy know. For thee forsaken be my daughter--let my son forsaken be, I for thee forsook my kindred--and forsake my life for thee. More than offering 'tis, than penance--liberal gift or sacrifice, When a wife, thus clearly summoned--for her husband's welfare dies. That which now to do I hasten--all the highest duty feel, For thy bliss, for thy well-doing--thine and all thy race's weal. Men, they say, but pray for children--riches, or a generous friend, To assist them in misfortune--and a wife for the same end. The whole race (the wise declare it)--thou the increaser of thy race, Than the single self less precious--ever holds a second place. Let me then discharge the duty--and preserve thyself by me, Give me thine assent, all-honoured--and my children's guardian be. Women must be spared from slaughter--this the learn'd in duty say, Even the giant knows that duty--me he will not dare to slay. Of the man the death is certain--of the woman yet in doubt, Wherefore, noblest, on the instant--as the victim send me out. I have lived with many blessings--I have well fulfilled my part, I have given thee beauteous offspring--death hath nought t' appal mine heart. I've borne children, I am aged--in my soul I've all revolved, And with spirit strong to serve thee--I am steadfast and resolved. Offering me, all-honoured husband--thou another wife wilt find, And to her wilt do thy duty--gentle as to me, and kind. Many wives if he espouses--man incurs nor sin nor blame, For a wife to wed another--'tis inexpiable shame. This well weighed within thy spirit--and the sin thyself to die, Save thyself, thy race, thy children--be the single victim I. * * * * * Hearing thus his wife, the husband--fondly clasp'd her to his breast, And their tears they poured together--by their mutual grief oppressed. THIRD SONG. Of these two the troubled language--in the chamber as she heard, Lost herself in grief the daughter--thus took up the doleful word. _The_ DAUGHTER _spake_.