terna mihi mors
Abstulit, hei misero frater adempte mihi?"

"My brother's death my study hath undone,
Woe's me, alas my brother he is gone."

Mezentius would not live after his son:

[3868] "Nunc vivo, nec adhuc homines lucemque relinquo,
Sed linquam"------

And Pompey's wife cried out at the news of her husband's death,

[3869] "Turpe mori post te solo non posse dolore,
Violenta luctu et nescia tolerandi,"

as [3870]Tacitus of Agrippina, not able to moderate her passions. So when
she heard her son was slain, she abruptly broke off her work, changed
countenance and colour, tore her hair, and fell a roaring downright.

[3871] ------"subitus miserae color ossa reliquit,
Excussi manibus radii, revolutaque pensa:
Evolat infelix et foemineo ululatu
Scissa comam"------

Another would needs run upon the sword's point after Euryalus' departure,

[3872] "Figite me, si qua est pietas, in me omnia tela
Conjicite o Rutili;"------

O let me die, some good man or other make an end of me. How did Achilles
take on for Patroclus' departure? A black cloud of sorrows overshadowed
him, saith Homer. Jacob rent his clothes, put sackcloth about his loins,
sorrowed for his son a long season, and could not be comforted, but would
needs go down into the grave unto his son, Gen. xxxvii. 37. Many years
after, the remembrance of such friends, of such accidents, is most grievous
unto us, to see or hear of it, though it concern not ourselves but others.
Scaliger saith of himself, that he never read Socrates' death, in Plato's
Phaedon, but he wept: [3873]Austin shed tears when he read the destruction
of Troy. But howsoever this passion of sorrow be violent, bitter, and
seizeth familiarly on wise, valiant, discreet men, yet it may surely be
withstood, it may be diverted. For what is there in this life, that it
should be so dear unto us? or that we should so much deplore the departure
of a friend? The greatest pleasures are common society, to enjoy one
another's presence, feasting, hawking, hunting, brooks, woods, hills,
music, dancing, &c. all this is but vanity and loss of time, as I have
sufficiently declared.

[3874] ------"dum bibimus, dum serta, unguenta, puellas
Poscimus, obrepit non intellecta senectus."

"Whilst we drink, prank ourselves, with wenches dally,
Old age upon's at unawares doth sally."

As alchemists spend that small modi