The adulterer dies. An old custom, justice.
I pray for no more youth To perish before its prime; That Revenge and iron-heated War May fade with all that has gone before Into the night of time.
Destiny waits alike for the free man as well as for him enslaved by another's might.
Making it a valid law to learn by suffering.
Obedience, you know, is Good Luck's mother, wedded to Salvation, they say.
Even the old should learn.