The descent to the infernal regions is easy enough, but to retrace one's steps, and reach the air above, there's the rub.
Death twitches my ear; 'Live,' he says... 'I'm coming.
Yield not to calamity, but face her boldly.
Perhaps the day may come when we shall remember these sufferings with joy.
There should be no strife with the vanquished or the dead.
In strife who inquires whether stratagem or courage was used?
