For Hades, ruler of the nether sphere, Exactest auditor of human kind, Graved on the tablet of his mind Doth every trespass read. - Aeschylus

Oh, the torment bred in the race,
the grinding scream of death
and the stroke that hits the vein,
the hemorrhage none can staunch, the grief,
the curse no man can bear.

But there is a cure in the house, and not outside it, no,
not from others but from them,
their bloody strife. We sing to you,
dark gods beneath the earth.

Now hear, you blissful powers underground — answer the call, send help.
Bless the children, give them triumph now.

Un sabio, sí, era un sabio quien por primera vez alzó en su mente y con su lengua expresó que la boda con un igual es lo mejor, con mucho, y que ni con quienes por su riqueza viven en la molicie ni con quienes por su linaje están ensoberbecidos, cuando uno es un jornalero, ha de ambicionar casarse...

For Ares, lord of strife,
Who doth the swaying scales of battle hold,
War’s money-changer, giving dust for gold,
Sends back, to hearts that held them dear,
Scant ash of warriors, wept with many a tear,
Light to the hand, but heavy to the soul;
Yea, fills the light urn full
With what survived the flame — Death’s dusty measure of a hero’s frame!