A5C89 IT»TtT« 1 A = BBS : I AI o m ^^= 5 1 ■ ^^= ^ 1 o 1 4 I ai 1 5 5 : 2 1 j> 1 o m — . oi 1 -JZ 1 7 m — ■-■ X 1 4 ^ ^= J 1 1 m ■^^: P 1 —* 1 _^ ■< I 4 ~ . ■ ■ . ; ■ ■ . ■ ^M-UBRARYQ^ ^UIBRARYQr, ,\WEUNIVERS/a %ojnv3jo^" %oi\\m^ ^mmm^- CO ^■lOSANCElfr. "%3AINfl]WN ^0FCALIF(%, ^OF-CAllFORfe #AuvaaiH^ y 0AavaaiH^ .^EINIVERS/a ^TiUDNV SOl^ ^LOS-ANCflfx %«3AIN \UEUNIVER57 AOSANGEL£j> ^UIBRARYfc ^OJIWDJO^ LfJ £ .^0FCAllFt%, Q= 1\ / ^* A e ^OF CAllFOMi 'JliJnViUt ^Aavaaii^ y \ti? h i* / « -t-t-c^ y /•^fi / t*< THE ALCESTIS OF EURIPIDES. RENDERED INTO ENGLISH VERSE. BY Wm. CUDWORTH, M. Inst. C.E. Darlington : WILLIAM CfRESSER, I* KIN I 1888. 7W PubltJiaL "PA 3^75 THE ALCESTIS OF EURIPIDES. 866630 ALCESTIS. Apollo. ( ), dwelling of Admetus, where I bore A menial's lot, although I am a god ! Zeus was the cause, who having slain my son Asclepius, hurling lightning at his breast, I was enraged, and slew the Cyclopes, The forgers of the awful fire of Zeus. For this the father forced me to atone, And serve a mortal man in menial guise. And coming to this land, I watched the herds him who entertained me, and preserved house unto this day ; and being myself Pious, I chanced to find a pious man, The son of Pheres, whom I saved from death, The fates beguiling. And the goddesses mted me that Admetus should escape The death impending, giving in exchan Another vu tim to the powers beneath. ALCESTIS. And when he'd proved, and gone through all his friends, His aged sire, and her who gave him birth, He found not anyone except his wife Willing to die for him, and see no more The light of day. Who now within the house Is lying in his arms, and gasping out Her soul ; for on this day, it is decreed That she must die, and pass away from life. And lest pollution find me in this house I leave the roof of this beloved abode. Already do I see stern Death at hand, Priest of the dying, who will presently Lead her below to Hades' dark abodes. And at the fated time he shows himself, Watching for this sad day wherein 'twas fixed That she must die. Death. Ah ! art thou here ? What doest thou in these halls ? Why, Phcebus, dost thou linger in this place ? Again thou dost me wrong by bearing off, And making cease the rights and honours due To the great powers below. Was't not enough To thwart me in Admetus' day of doom, Frustrating by thy craft the destinies ? And now again, thou art watching over her With bow in hand, who for her husband's life Promised herself to die, the daughter fair Of Pelias. ALCESTIS. Apollo. Fear not, I have justice both And solid reasons. Death. What need then for bow If thou hast justice ? Apollo. 'Tis my usual way To bear it with me. Death. Aye, and beyond right To benefit this house. Apollo. For I do grieve For the misfortunes of the man I love. Death. And wilt thou rob me of this second corpse? Apollo. Nay, I did not take e'en the former one By force. Death. How then is he upon the earth, And not below the ground ? Apollo. By, for himself Giving his wife whom now thou com'st to se< I I )i:a i ii. Aye, and I'll take her to the lands below. 3 ALCESTIS. Apollo. Take her and go, for 'tis not in my power To move thee. Death. To slay him whose hour has come, This is my office. Apollo. Nay, but to strike down Those who are meet for death. Death. I understand Thy meaning and good wishes. Apollo. Can it be Alcestis may arrive at good old age ? Death. It cannot be, for I must also have My rights and honours. Apollo. Surely thou'lt not tnke More than one life. Death. But when the youthful die I have the greater honour. Apollo. But if age Come on her ere she die, her funeral rites Will be the richer. ALCESTIS. Death. Phoebus, what thou says't Is a law for the rich. Apollo. How say'st thou ? Art Thou witty inadvertently ? Death. The rich Would buy the privilege of dying old. Apollo. Doth it not please thee then to grant to me This favour ? Death. No, indeed, thou knowest well My turn of mind. Apollo. Oh, yes ! to mortals hateful And loathed by the gods. Death. Thou cans't not have All things, and hast no right to. Apollo. Assuredly Thou shalt desist, relentless though thou art. To 1'heres' house a certain man will conic Sent by Eurystheus from the stormy land ' it 'I !n - e, in quest of horses and a i ar, 6 ALCESTIS. Who in Admetus' hall, received as guest Shall rescue from thee his devoted wife By putting forth his might, nor shalt thou have Our thanks, and yet thou'lt do it all the same, And shalt be hated by me. Death Pleading much Thou shalt get nothing more. The woman then Shall go below to Hades' dwelling place. And now I go to her, that with my sword I may begin the customary rites, For sacred is he to the gods below Whose locks are severed by my fateful blade. Semi-Chorus I. What means this death-like stillness in the house ? Why are all silent in Admetus' hall ? Semi Chorus II. There is no friendly voice at hand to tell Whether 'tis ours to mourn a queen deceased, Or Pelias' child, Alcestis still survives, And sees the light of day, to me and all Seeming to be the best and noblest wife Toward her own husband. Semi-Chorus I. Heareth any one Groaning, or beat of hands within the house, ALCESTIS. Or lamentation, as if all were done ? But not a single one of all their men Is standing at the gates. O, Poean, show, Show thyself midst our waves of misery ! Semi-Chorus II. They would not be all silent were she dead — Semi-Chorus I. At least she is not taken from the house For burial. Semi-Chorus II. Why ? I do not comprehend. Wherefore so sure ? Semi-Chorus I. How could Admetus give His chaste wife burial with no one nigh ? Semi-Chorus II. Before the; gates I see no lustral bowl, With water from the fountain, as is wont, When one has passed away, and no shorn luck Hangs in the vestibule, which ever falls In mourning for the dead ; no youthful hands Of women send forth their resounding beat. Semi-Chorus I. And yet this is indeed the appointed day. Semi-Chorus II. What's this thou sayest < 8 ALCESTIS. Semi-Chorus I. On which it is her doom To go beneath the earth. Semi-Chorus II. That touches close My mind and soul. Semi-Chorus I. Aye ! when the good depart Grief well becomes the man of upright heart. Chorus. But there's no spot of earth where voyaging, Not Lycia, nor great Amnion's thirsty plains One might release the unhappy lady's soul From death's stern grasp. Untimely fate's at hand And at the altars of the mighty gods No priest have I to whom I can resort. If Phoebus' son were only with his eyes Looking upon this light, she would have come, Leaving the lands of darkness and the gates Of Hades ; for he used to raise the dead Before the bolt of Zeus's lightning flame Struck him ; but now what hope can I admit Of life for her ? For all has now been tried By princes, and the altars of the gods Are filled with bleeding offerings, and there is No help for these misfortunes. But here comes ALCESTIS. 9 A woman servant from the house, all tears. What fortune shall I hear ? To mourn, indeed, If to our lords there happen ought of ill, Is to be pardoned ; but we now would know Whether our lady yet survives, or fate Has overcome her. Woman Servant. You may speak of her As living and as dead. Chorus. And how can one Both die and see the light ? VVoman Servant. This very hour She droops and gasps her soul out. Chorus. Wretched man, Such as thou art, O what a wife thou'lt miss ! Woman Servant. My master knows not yet before he's lost her. Chorus. Is there no longer hope to save her life? Woman Servant. No, for the destined day is pressing on her. Chorus. Are not the accustomed rites, then, done for her? IO ALCEST1S. Woman Servant. The shroud is ready and her husband soon Will lay her in the tomb. Chorus. Now let her know She'll die with fair renown, the noblest wife By far of those who dwell beneath the sun. Woman Servant. Why not the best ? Can any one gainsay ? What must the wife be who surpasses her ! How could she reverence her husband more Than by the offering of her life for his ? And this, indeed, does all the city know ; But what she did within the palace walls Hearing, you'll marvel at. For when she saw The appointed day was come she went and bathed Her fair skin in pure water from the stream, And taking from her cedar chest her robe And decorations, she adorned herself Becomingly, and, standing at the hearth, She prayed, " O mistress (for I go beneath The earth) I fall before thee and entreat With latest breath, that thou wilt guard and keep My orphan children, and unite with one A loving wife, and to the other give A noble husband, and O let them not ALCESTIS. I I Like me depart this earth before their time, But let them in prosperity complete A life of blessing in their fatherland. And all the altars in Admetus' house She crowned with garlands, offering up her prayers, Stripping the leaves off from the myrtle boughs, Without a tear or sigh, nor did the fate That was impending change the blooming tint Of her fair skin ; and rushing then within Her chamber to her bed, she there, indeed, Melted in tears, and thus bemoaned herself: — " O couch, where I gave up my maidenhood For this man's sake, for whom I go to die, Farewell, I do not hate thee, me alone Thou hast destroyed, declining to be false To thee and to my husband, now I die. Some other woman will possess thee soon ; She cannot be more chaste, but may perchance Have better fortune." Throwing herself down She kissed, and kissed it, moistening all the bed With the soft flood that streamed forth from her eyes. And when she had found satiety of tears, She went forth drooping, rushing from the couch, And often, as she went she turned again k to her chamber, and again she threw Herself upon the bed. Her children there- Clung to their mother's robes, dissolved in grief, 1 2 ALCESTIS. And she, embracing in her arms, now one And then the other, as at point of death, Bade them adieu. And all her maidens wept Beneath the roof, lamenting her sad lot. But she to each extended her right hand, And no one was too mean for her to greet With parting words, and make to her response. Such are the woes within Admetus' house. And had he died, he would have been no more, But shunning that, he meets with such a grief As he will ne'er forget. Chorus. Is not Admetus mourning mid these woes, Since it must be that he shall be deprived Of such a virtuous wife ? Woman Servant. He weeps, indeed, Holding his dear wife in his arms, and begs She will not leave him, vainly asking for What cannot be ; for she does fade away And waste with sickness, lying all unstrung, A burden in his arms ; but still though few Her moments, she would look upon the sun, As never more, but now for the last time She should behold his rays. Bnt I will go Andintimate your presence, for not all Are well affected towards those over them, ALCESTIS. 15 So as to stand by them when evil comes. But you are ancient well-beloved friends Of these our rulers. Chorus I. Oh, Zeus ! In what way can there be resource Amidst our evils, and what end is there Of mischief to our lords ? Chorus II. Will any one Come forth, or shall I now cut off my locks And throw around me the dark mourning robes? Chorus III. Tis clear, indeed, my friends, 'tis clear, and yet Let us pray to the gods, the mighty ones. Chorus IV. Oh Paian, king, some remedy find out For the sad fortunes of Admetus' house ! Chorus V. Provide it, oh provide, for once before Thou didst discover one for him, and now i; the deliverer of her from death, And silence murderous Hades' stern demands ! Strophe. Woe, woe, alas ! woe, woe, alas, alas ! [ntistrophe. Oh son of Pheres, what a deed thou'st done Win' 1) strip, thee of thy wife ! 14 ALCESTIS. Chorus VI. Is't not, indeed, Worthy of self-destruction, and enough To cause thee bring thy neck within a noose Hung from aloft ? Chorus VII. Yes, surely, for thou'lt see Thy wife not merely loved, but most beloved, Dying upon this day. Chorus VIII. Behold, behold ! She and her husband now are coming forth Out of the house. Chorus IX. Cry out, and make lament, O land of Pherae, for the best of wives Fading with sad disease beneath the earth For Hades, ruler of the lands below. Chorus. Ne'er will I say that marriage gives more joy Than grief, concluding so from former signs, And from this wretched fortune of our king Who, losing on this day the best of wives, Shall live a life not worth the living then. Alcestis. O sun, and light of day, and fleeting clouds Of heaven ! ALCESTIS. 1 5 Admetus. They look upon both thee and me, Two souls in evil case, who nought have done Against the gods for which they ought to die. Alcestis. land, and palace roofs, and bridal bed, Where once I dwelt in Iolcos ! Admetus. Raise thyself Unhappy one, oh leave me not, and pray The mighty gods above to pity us. Alcestis. 1 see the two-oared boat, and Charon stands, Ferryman of the dead, with pole in hand, And summons me e'en now. " Why tarricst thou ? Speed on, thou stoppest us ! " and pressing thus He hastens me. Admetus. Ah me ! for me thou tak'st This bitter voyage, () ill-fated one! What we do suffer ! Alcestis. Some one leads me on, Leads me (0 seest thou not?) to the abodes Where throng the dead, winged Hades darting forth (dances from 'neaUi his eyebrows dark as night. 1 6 ALCESTIS. What doest thou? Let me go ! Oh, what a way Is that which I, most wretched one, must go ! Admetus. A sad one for thy friends, but most of all For me and for our children, for with them I have a common grief. Alcestis. Oh, let me go ! Let me go now ! No strength is in my feet. Let me lie down, for death is near, and o'er My eyes creeps dusky night ; my children dear, My children, ye are henceforth motherless ; May ye fare well, and look upon the light. Admetus. Ah me ! I hear these words more sad to me Than any death. O do not have the heart, I pray thee by the gods, to go from me, And by our children whom thou'lt leave behind Orphans, but bear up still ! For when thou'rt dead 'Twill be all o'er with me, for we in thee Both live and do not live ; so much do we Value thy tender love. Alcestis. Admetus, how Things are with me, thou seest ; I wish to say Some words that burden me before I die. ALCESTIS. I / I, honouring thee, and thinking it was meet To give my life that thou may'st see the light, Die ; — though 'twas in my power not to die For thee, but have for husband him I would Among Thessalians, and to rule a house Honoured with regal power, but not e'en so Would I live with my children, torn from thee. Nor did I spare myself, though having gifts Of youth in which I ever took delight ; And yet he who begat, and she who bare thee Forsook thee, though they'd reached the term of life When death conies well, and well it would have been To save their son, and die a glorious death. Thou wast their only son, nor had they hope When thou wast gone to have another child. And I should have lived on, and thou thyself The common term of life, and thou wouldst not Have mourned thy deprivation of thy wife, And childrens' orphanage. Be sure some god Hath wrought this, and is bringing it to pass. Well, be it so ! Think thou on me for this With gratitude, for never shall I ask Their real worth from thee, fur there is nought More precious than one's life ; but what is just, (As thou'lt admit) I ask, for thou dost love These children as I love them, and no less, If thou dost think aright. Make them the lords 1 8 ALCESTIS. Over my house, and go not thou and wed, Bringing a stepmother to trouble them ; A woman my inferior, who in spite AVill lay a heavy load on those whom thou And I gave birth to. Do not this indeed, I beg of thee, for she who takes the place Of former wife, is to her children nou ght More gentle than a viper. He, the boy Has in his father a great tower of strength, And may hold converse with him in las need ; But thou, my daughter, how wilt thou pass through Thy maidenhood with honour, finding such A yoke-mate to thy father? 'Tis my fear She'll throw some base aspersion on thy name, And mar thy marriage in the prime of youth. For never will thy mother give thee out In marriage, nor encourage thee, my child, When in the throes of childbirth, at thy side, Where nothing comforts more than mother's love. I needs must die, and not to morrow comes This evil, nor the third day of the month, But straightway I'll be numbered among those Who are no more. Farewell, may ye enjoy Prosperity, and you may make the boast, My husband, that thou had'st the best of wives, And you, my children, that you had your birth From a good mother. ALCESTIS. 19 Chorus. Fear not, for I dare To vouch for him he'll do as thou dost say If he be left with ordinary sense. Admetus It shall be so, fear not, for I enjoyed Thee living, and when dead, thou only shah Be called my wife, and no Thessalian maid Shall claim me husband in the place of thee. No woman comes of such a high-born sire, Nor rivals thee in comeliness of form. I pray the gods that from my children clear Much joy may be in store, for soon from thee We have no more, and I shall mourn for thee Not for a year alone, but long as life Shall last, my wife, with loathing in my heart For her who bore me. haling, too, my sire. For they in words were friendly, not in deeds. But thou hast saved me, giving for my life All that was dearest to thee. Have I not Great cause for grief in losing such a mate ? But I will put a stop to revellers And groups of banqueters, and wreaths and song, Which used to fill my house. For never more Will I put hand to lyre, or stir my soul To sing to Lybian lute, for thou hast ta'en All my delight in life ; hut thy loved form, 20 ALCESTIS. Fashioned by skilful artists, shall be stretched Upon our bed, and I will fall on it, Clasping it in my arms, and calling it By thy loved name, shall think I have a wife In my embrace, although I have her not. Cold comfort surely, yet I think 'twill lift Some weight from off my soul. And coming oft To see me in my dreams, thou'lt give me joy ; For sweet is it to see e'en in the night The friend we love as long as he remains. But if the tongue of Orpheus had been mine, And song, so that appeasing with my strains Demeter's daughter or her husband, I Might rescue thee from Hades, I would go Beneath, and not dark Pluto's dog, nor yet Charon, the ferryman of souls, who sits With oar in hand, would check my ardent course, Before I would bring back thy life to light. But if it can't be so, expect me there When I shall die, and an abode provide As if to live with me ; for I will bid Them place me by thee in the same sad home Of cedar-wood, and lay me by thy side ; For not when dead e'en will I bear to be Apart from thee my only faithful one. Chorus. And surely I will share with thee thy grief As friend with friend, for great is her desert. ALCESTIS. 2 1 Alcestis. children, ye yourselves have heard the vow Your father's made, that he will never take Another wife to lord it over you, Nor to dishonour me. Admetus. And now indeed, 1 promise, and will keep all that I've said. Alcestis. Then receive thou my children from my hand. Admetus. I take them, a dear gift from a loved hand. Alcestis. Now, to my children fill a mother's part. Admetus. Yes, for there's need when they are stripped of thee. Alcestis. My children, when 'tuns meet that I should live, I go beneath the earth. Admetus. What shall I do, Alas, bereft of thee? Alcestis. But time will heal ; He who is dead is nothing. 22 ALCESTIS. Admetus. By the gods, Take me below, O take me ! Alcestis. We suffice Who die for thee. Admetus. O doom, of what a mate Thou dost deprive me ! Alcestis. And my eye, in truth, Darkness makes heavy. Admetus. I am all undone, My wife, if thou wilt leave me. Alcestis. Thou may'st speak Of me as being no more anything. Admetus. Lift up thy countenance, O do not leave Thy children. Alcestis. Most unwillingly forsooth, But farewell, O my children. Admetus. Look on them, look ! ALCESTIS. 23 Alcestis. I am no longer anything. Admetus. What has come o'er thee ? Art thou leaving us ? Alcestis. Farewell. Admetus. I am undone, O wretched me ! Chorus. She's gone, Admetus' wife no longer is. Eumelus. Woe's me, my mother hath gone down below In truth, my father, and no longer lives Beneath the sun, and wretched, leaving me, Hath orphanized my life, for see, O see Her eyelid, and her arms stretched by her side ' Hear me, my m >ther, hear me I beseech, I call upon thee, mother, now I call, Falling upon thy lips, thine only son. Admetus. Thou call'st on one who neither hears nor si I and you ai • struck down to the earth With a most he y troke. Eumelus. I, in my youth, o father, am deserted and bereft 24 ALCESTIS. Of my dear mother, I, who have endured Most cruel wrongs, and thou, too, sister mine, Thou, too, hast suffered with me. Father, thou In vain, in vain hast married, nor hast reached Old age along with her ; for she has gone Before thee, and the house bereft of her Is gone to ruin. Chorus. These calamities, Admetus, thou must bear, thou'rt not the first Or last of mortals who has lost a wife Famed for her virtue, but remember that The debt of dying must be paid by all. Admetus. I know it, and not suddenly this ill Has fallen on me, knowing it some time, It has much worn me ; but enough of this ; I will perform the burial of my dead, And do ye stay with me and chant again Responsively the pagan to the god Implacable below. And I will bid All the Thessalians o'er whom I rule To share my grief for her with severed hair, And mourning robes of black ; and ye who yoke To four-horse chariots the single steed, Cut with your steel the. adorning of their necks. ALCESTIS. 25 And in the city let there be no sound Of lute or lyre till twelve returning moons Have run their course ; for no one shall I lay In the cold tomb more dear to me, or more Deserving. She is worthy of my most Exalted estimation, for alone She dared to die for. me. Chorus. O Pelias' child, Mayst thou, not faring badly, occupy Thy sunless house in Hades' dark abode ! And let the black-haired god who rules below, Know, and the ancient man with hand on oar, Ferryman of the dead, he has conveyed Far, far the noblest woman o'er the lake Of Acheron in his two oar^d boat. Often shall minstrels sing of thee upon The seven-stringed mountain lyre, and hymn thy praise Without the lyre in Sparta, when the time Of the Carnean month comes circling round, And the moon, high in heaven, shines all night through, In bright and happy Athens : such a theme For stong thou'st, dying, left for minstrelsy. Would it were with me, and I had the power To bring thee to the light from I lades' halls, And dark Cocytus' streams, with help oi oar, That plies the waters of the realm below. 26 ALCESTIS. For thou alone, O best of woman-kind, Hast dared to save thy husband from the land Of Hades, giving in exchange thy life. May the earth, lady, lightly fall on thee, And if thy husband some new bed should choose, Assuredly shall he be odious To me, and to thy children. For when she Thy mother would not hide her form beneath The ground, nor yet thy venerable sire, Who gave thee to the light, and did not dare, Obdurate ones, to save their wretched son, Although their locks were hoary, thou in bloom Of youth hast gone to give thy life for his. O may it be my lot myself to win Such a dear wedded wife, for chance like this Is rare in life, for she would live with me On to life's end, and give no cause for pain. Heracles. Strangers, who in this land of Pheras dwell, Say, shall I find Admetus in the house ? Chorus. The son of Pheres is within the house, O Heracles, but say what business brings Thee to the land of Thessaly and this Phera^an city. Heracles. For Eurystheus, he Who dwells in Tiryns, I have work to do. ALCESTIS. 27 Chorus. And whither goest thou ? What roaming quest Hast thou been yoked to ? Heracles. I go forth to seek The four-horsed car of Thracian Diomede. Chorus. How then wilt thou be able ? Hast thou no Experience with the stranger ? Heracles. None at all, I've not yet come to the Bistonian land. Chorus. Thou wilt not get possession of the steeds Without a fight. Heraci.i.s. But neither can I shirk These labours. Chorus. Slaying him thou'lt come away Again, or being slain, thoul't there remain. Heracles. It will not be the first race that I've run. Chorus. But mastering their lord, what wilt thou gain ? 2 8 ALCESTIS. Heracles. I shall bear off the steeds for him who rules In Tiryns. Chorus. It will be no easy task To bridle them. Heracles. Yes, if they breathe not fire Out of their nostrils. Chorus. But they worry men With ravenous jaws. Heracles. Thou speak'st as if they ate The food of wild beasts, not what horses eat. Chorus Yet thou wilt see their mangers foul with blood. Heracles. But of what sire does he who bred them boast Himself the son ? Chorus. Of Ares ; him who owns The golden Thracian target. Heracles. And in this Thou mentionest a toil of my hard lot, For it is ever harsh and uphill work ALCESTIS. 29 If I must meet in fight the sons begot By Ares, first of all with Lycaon, And then again with Cycnus, and now last I come to this third struggle with the steeds, And with their lord ; but no one e'er shall see The offspring of Alcmene trembling stand Before his foes. Chorus. And here, indeed, comes forth Admetus, this land's ruler, from the house. Admetus. Hail to thee, son of Zeus, of Perseus' blood ! Heracles. Hail to thee, too, Admetus, who art lord Of Thessaly ! Admetus. J would that it were well With me, but I do know thy friendliness. Heracles. What cause is it that makes thee singular With hair all shorn for grief? Admetus. It is my work This day to bury one who is no more. Heracles. May this affliction not have lighted Oil Thy children ! 30 ALCESTIS. Admetus. Those whom I begat are now Alive within the house. Heracles. Thy sire, indeed, Hath reached a ripe old age, if he be gone. Admetus. He too exists, my friend, and she who bare me. Heracles. Surely thy wife, Admetus, is not dead ! Admetus. I have a two-fold tale concerning her. Heracles. Speak'st thou of her as dead, or living still ? Admetus. She is, and is no more, and hence my grief. Heracles. I am no wiser, for thou speak'st not plain. Admetus. Know'st thou not her sad fate which must befall ? Heracles. I know she gave her life instead of thine. Admetus. How doth she live, then, having promised this ? ALCESTIS. 31 Heracles. Ah ! weep not for thy wife before the time. Admetus. One doomed to die is dead, the dead is nought. Heracles. To be, and not to be, two things are deemed. Admetus. Thy thoughts run this way, Heracles, mine that. Heracles. Why weep'st thou then ? what friend of thine is dead ? Admetus. A woman ; as I said a while ago. Heracles. A stranger, or some one akin to thee ? Admetus. A stranger, but connected with my house. Heracles. I low has she lost her life, then, in thy house? Admetus. Hei father dying, here she spent her life Of orphanhood. I I I i Ml. I ... Alas ! would we had found Thee sorrowing not, Admetus! 32 ALCESTIS. Admetus. What, indeed, Is thy intent in patching up this speech ? Heracles. I will go to another stranger's hearth. Admetus. Not so, O prince, let not such ill befall ! Heracles. A guest is troublesome to those who mourn. Admetus. The dead are dead. But go into the house. Heracles. Tis mean to feast 'mid friends whose grief is full. Admetus. Guest-rooms there are apart for thee to use. Heracles. Excuse me, and I'll give a thousand thanks. Admetus. Thou must not leave me for another's hearth ; {To a Servant.) Lead thou the way, and open out the rooms That are apart from others in the house, And say to those in charge that they set out A right abundant table, and close thou The doors that part the chambers from the court. It ill beseems that guests who feast should hear Groaning and lamentation for the dead. ALCESTIS. T,^ Chorus. What doest thou ? with such calamity Impending, O Admetus, hast thou heart To entertain a guest ? Unfeeling man ! Admetus. But if I'd driven from my house and town A stranger who had come, wouldst thou the more Have praised me ? No indeed, for none the less Would be my cause of woe, and I should be More void of hospitality ; besides, To my misfortunes I should add this one, To have my house called " no house for a guest.' And I myself have ever found this man A liberal entertainer when I've gone To his abode in Argos' thirsty land. Chorus. How then hast thou concealed thy present case When comes a man, thy friend, as thou thyself 1 )ost say ? Admetus. He never would have come within My house if he had known the loss I've had. And I suspect in doing this, I seem To him unwise, nor will he give me praise, But in} balls know not how to thrust away Or cast dishonour on a stranger guest. J4 ALCESTIS. Chorus. O bountiful and hospitable house ! Thee did Apollo, minstrel of the lyre, Deign to inhabit, and in thy abode, He bore to be a feeder of the flocks, Piping to them his shepherd songs athwart The mountain slopes. To hear his pleasing strains The spotted lynxes mingled with the flocks, And blood-stained troops of lions left the dells Of Olhrys, and there danced around the lyre The dappled fawn, O Phoebus, bounding on With nimble foot beyond the lofty pines, Delighting in thy song. So this man dwells In flock-abounding home beside the lake Of Bcebe's crystal waters, and he makes The sky of the Molossians the bound Of his ploughed acres and his stretching fields Beside the dusky stable of the sun. And Pelion owns his sway far as the shore Washed by ^Egaean waves, all harbourless. And now with open doors will he receive His guest with dewy eyes, fresh from his grief, Over the body of his much-loved wife, Just dead within the house. For noble souls Have nicety of feeling ; and the good Abound in wisdom ; and my mind is filled With confidence that he who gives the gods Due reverence will prosper in his ways. ALCESTIS. 35 Admetus. Ye men of Pherse, kindly present here, Already do my people bear on high My dead for burial, and the funeral pyre, With all attendant rites ; but do ye, friends, As is the custom, utter parting words As lifeless she goes forth to come no more Back to her home. Chorus. And now, in truth, I see Thy father coming on with aged foot, And with him servants bearing in their hands A rich robe for thy wife, a grateful gift To those who go below. Pheres. I come, my son, To suffer with thee in thy wretched lot ; For thou hast lost, and no one will gainsay, A noble wife of chaste and prudent heart. But these things must be borne, hard though it be To bear them ; and accept this burial robe And let it go below. 'Tis meet the corpse Of her who gave her life instead of thine, My son, should have all honour, and me, too, She's saved from childlessness, nor suffered me bereft of thee to waste away in grief The remnant of my age, and having dared 36 ALCESTIS. A noble deed, hath made of woman's life A thing for all her sex to glory in. Thou who hast saved the life of this my son, And raised us fallen ones, O, fare-thee-well, And mayst thou prosper in the dark abodes Of Hades. I affirm such marriages Are for man's profit, else 'twere vain to wed. Admetus. Thou com'st not to this burial called by me, Nor do I count thee 'mong my kindly friends ; And ne'er shall she be shrouded in thy robe, For in her burial nought of thine she needs. Then was thy time for sympathy when I Was doomed to perish, but thou stoodst aloof, And, being aged, let another die, A young man. Wilt thou now this corpse bewail ? Thou wast not in reality my sire, And she who says she bore me, and is called My mother, bare me not, but secretly From a slave's blood I at her breast was placed. Put to the test, thou showest what thou art, And I disclaim that I was born thy son. Thou dost, indeed, surpass in cowardice, Who, having come to such a stage of life, So near its term, refusest, nor dost dare To die to save thy son, but meanly left For death this stranger woman, whom alone I justly deem my mother and my sire. ALCESTIS. $J And yet such courage would have honoured thee Dying to save thy son, and short for thee Is the remainder of thy time on earth ; And I and she would have lived out our lives, Nor should I, desolate, lament my loss. But what, indeed, a happy man enjoys, That has been thine, with kingly power thy youth Was graced, and I thy son, was given to thee, Heir to this house, that so thou should'st not leave (Dying without a child), thy house a prey To stranger ravages. Thou wilt not say Forsooth, that / abandoned thee to die, Dishonouring thy age ; I, who towards thee Was most of all respectful, and for this, Thou and the dame who bare me, gave such thanks. Therefore thou canst not too soon set about Begetting children, who will nurse thy age And deck thee in thy death, and lay thee out ; For with these hands I ne'er will bury thee. Towards thee, indeed, I am already dead, And if (some other offering his life-), I still behold the light, I'll say of such I am his child, ami loving cherisher Of his old age. "lis not with honesty That old men pray to die, and (hide old age And a long term of life, for if death pome And fares them, not one would wish to die, And age to them is burdensome no mon . 38 ALCESTIS. Chorus. Cease, for sufficient is the present ill, My son, nor seek to stir thy father's soul To gusts of passion. Pheres. Whom presumest thou, My son, to chase away with evil words ? Is it some Lydian or some Phrygian slave Whom thou hast bought with money? Know'st thou not I am Thessalian, of Thessalian sire, Legitimately free ? Thy insolence Goes beyond bounds, and pelting me with words Of youthful folly, thou shalt not escape, Now thou hast done it. I begat thee heir To my estate, and nourished thee, and yet I do not own a debt to die for thee ; For 'tis no debt by fathers handed down, Nor owned by Greeks, that fathers for their sons Should give their lives. Thou for thyself wast born, Whether unfortunate or fortunate, And what was fitting thou hast had from me. Thou rulest over much, and I will leave To thee my ample many-acred fields ; For these descended to me from my sire. In what then have I wronged thee ? Or of what Shall I deprive thee ? Die thou not for me, Nor I for thee ; thou lov'st the light of day, ALCESTIS. And deems't thou not thy father loves it too ? Surely I count the time beneath the earth Endures for aye, and life above is short, But yet 'tis sweet. Thou, then, most shamelessly Strove not to die, and livest, and outstripp'st Thy destiny, and gavest her to death. Talkest thou then, of my unmanliness, Thou meanest of mankind ? who art outdone By woman's daring who has died for thee, Thou fine young man. And shrewdly hast thou found A way to never die, if thou canst win Wife after wife to die instead of thee. And dost thou then, upbraid thy friends that they Decline to do this, being base thyself? Be silent, and remember, if thou lov'st Thy own life, that each man's is dear to him. But if thou speak'st reproachfully of me, Thou shalt hear much that's evil of thyself, And that not false. Chorus. Both now and hitherto Too many hard words have been bandied lure; But cease, old man, reviling this thy son. Ali.MKTUS. Speak, seeing I have spoken, but to hear The truth, if that doth grieve thee, 'twas not wise To sin against me. 4-0 ALCESTIS. Pheres. Had I died for thee I should have erred yet more. Admetus. Is it the same For a young man, and for the old to die ? Pheres. Our business is to live one life, not two. Admetus. Thou wouldst, forsooth, have longer life than Zeus. Pheres. Dost thou then, curse thy parents, nought unjust Enduring from them ? Admetus. No, but I perceived That a long life was dear to thee. Pheres. But say, Art thou not bearing this one to the tomb Instead of thee ? Admetus. A proof, O basest man, Of thy faint-heartedness. Pheres. 'Twas not by me She perished. That thou wilt not dare to say. ALCESTIS. 4 1 Admetus. Ah ! would that some day thou may'st come to feel Thy need of me ! Pheres. Go, many women woo, That more may die for thee. Admetus. That is to thee A cause for shame who would not die for me. Pheres. This light of heaven is dear to me, is dear. Admetus. Thy soul's a coward's, not of manly mould. Pheres. Thou canst not chuckle, carrying to the tomb My aged corpse. Admetus. Thy death, when it shall come, Will be inglorious. Pheres. When I'm dead and gone, Words of reproach will be of small account. Ai> Alas ! how wsr_ is full of shamclessncss ! Pheres. She was not shameless, yd devoid i ' Thou found'st her. 42 ALCESTLS. Admetus. Go thy way, and suffer me To bear my dead for burial. Pheres. I will go, And thou, her murderer, wilt bury her, But thou shalt yet to those akin to her Give satisfaction due. Acastus, sure, No longer lives if he shall fail to take Vengeance upon thee for his sister's blood. Admetus. A plague on thee and her who lives with thee ! May ye grow old all childless, as is meet, (Your son yet living) ! For ye shall not come To this same roof that shelters me, at least. And if it had been needful to disclaim With voice of heralds the paternal hearth, I would have done it. But now, let us go, (For the sore ill before us must be borne), And lay the corpse upon the funeral pyre. Chorus. Alas, Alas ! unflinching one ! stout heart ! O noble soul, and brave beyond thy sex ! Farewell ! may Hermes in his place beneath, And Hades welcome thee with kindliness ! And if with them 'tis better for the good, Mayst thou be bless'd, and take thy seat beside The bride of Hades ! ALCESTIS. 43 Attendant. Many have I known Hitherto, coming out of every land Guests to Admetus' house, for whom I've spread An ample board, but never at this hearth Have I received a baser one than this, Who, seeing first my master full of grief, Presumed to pass the gates and enter in. And then he did not modestly accept The entertainment, (having learnt our ills), But if we did not bring the things he loved, He called for them ; and taking in his hands An ivy goblet, a huge draught he gulped Of the dark mother's undiluted juice, Until (the flame of wine pervading him), He felt its warmth, and crowned his head with boughs Stripped from the myrtle, and discordantly He howled, and you might hear two different strains ; For he was holding forth, regardless quite Of all the suffering in Admetus' house, And we, her servants, wept with heavy hearts Our mistress gone, but no one showed our guest Her dewy eyes against Admetus' will. And now I'm feasting in the house a K u est, ;ne reckless thief <>r robber, and she's gone Forth from the house, and I've nol followed her, Nor stretched to net my hand with loud lamenl 44 ALCESTIS. For our loved mistress, who to me and all Her household ever filled a mother's part. For she preserved us from a thousand blames, Softening the angry temper of her spouse. Do I not then, with justice hate this guest, Coming amongst us in our grievous case ? Heracles. Ho, there ! why hast thou such a solemn look ? It ill befits a servant to display Moroseness towards a guest, but with a look Of welcome should he ever be received. But thou, when comes a comrade of thy lord, Receivest him with face o'erspread with gloom, And knitted brows, and making much ado About a loss that no way touches thee. Come hither, and thou shalt the wiser be. Know'st thou the turn that mortal things do take ? I think not, — for how shouldst thou ? But attend, Death is a debt which every man doth owe, And none there is who knows if he shall live All through the coming day; for 'tis not clear Whither the course of fortune will proceed, Nor is it to be taught, or found by art. Hearing this, then, and learning it from me, Gladden thyself and drink, and day by day Reckon thy life thy own, and all the rest At fortune's beck, and honour her the most, ALCESTIS. 45 Cypris, the pleasantest of gods to men ; (For gracious is the goddess), and these things Leave, and believe my words, if I do seem To speak aright ; — I think so, certainly. Wilt thou not, then, dismiss thy too great grief, And drink with us, advancing through these gates Crowned with thick garlands? and I know right well The plashing of the wine upon the cup Will chase away thy sullenness of mind. But it is fitting mortal men should dwell On mortal things, since life to men of gloom And knitted brows is not in truth a life, But a calamity, if I'm a judge. Attendant. We know all this, but now we have in hand A work that fits not in with revelling And laughter. Heracles. She's a stranger who is dead. Don't mourn too much, for they who rule this house Are living. Attendant. What, are living? know'st thou not The ill fortune of tins house? Heracles. Yes, I <1<> know, Unless thy master's somehow led me wroii 46 ALCESTIS. Attendant. His failing is to love too much his guest. Heracles. Ought I not to have found fair treatment here, The dead being but a stranger? Attendant. Very much A stranger was she truly ! Heracles. Was there, then, Some mishap with him that he told not of? Attendant. Go thou and prosper ! Our concern is with Our lord's misfortunes. Heracles. This discourse speaks not Of outside sufferings. Attendant. No ! for then to see Thee revelling had not grieved me. Heracles. Can it be That I have got injustice from my host ? Attendant. Thou earnest when it was no fitting time To lodge thee in the house, for we do mourn. Thou seest our shorn locks and cloaks of black. ALCESTIS. 47 Heracles. Who is it that is dead ? A child of his, Or has his aged father gone away ? Attendant Admetus' wife, O stranger, then is dead. Heracles. What say'st thou ? Did ye, then, in spite of this, Receive me as a guest ? Attendant. He thought it shame To send thee from his house. Heracles. O ill-starred man I How excellent a partner hast thou lost ! Attendant, We all have suffered loss, not he alone. Heracles. I knew it when I saw his streaming eyes, Shorn locks, and dismal face, but 1 was made To think that he was bearing to the tomb The corpse of one not near of kin to him. And passing through these gates against my will I drank in this man's hospitable house, And he in such a case. And did i dare To revel, wearing garlands on my head ? 4-8 ALCESTIS. But yet the fault was thine, who told me not That such misfortune pressed upon this house. But where will be her burial ? How shall I Go forth to find him ? Attendant. By the public path That leads straight to Larissa, thou shalt see A polished tomb, beyond the city's bounds. Heracles. much enduring heart and soul of mine, Now show what kind of son Alcmene bore To Zeus (of Tiryns she, Electryon's child), For I must save this lady lately dead, And bring again Alcestis to this house, And send much joy into Admetus' heart. And going, I will seek this black-robed king Who rules the dead, this Thanatos, and him 1 hope to find no long way from the tomb Quaffing the sacred blood ; and if I rush Out of my ambush and get hold of him, And clasp him in my arms, there is no one Shall take him from me, though he labour sore Before he gives the woman up to me. But if I miss my prize, he coming not Near to the clotted blood, I then will go Down to the sunless dwellings of the bride ALCESTIS. 49 And of her lord, and make demand for her. And I have confidence that I shall bring Alcestis up, and place her in the arms Of him who took me in, nor sent me off, Though bowed beneath misfortune's heavy stroke. But he concealed it in his noblene—. Out of respect for me. Of those who dwell In Thessaly, what man does more regard The stranger guest ? What dweller in the land Of Hellas ? Therefore shall it not be said, He did a kindness to a mean-souled man, Himself of noble blood. Admetus. Alas, alas ! O hateful funeral train ! O hateful sight Of widowed chambers ! Ah, woe, woe is me ! To what place shall I go ? Where stand ? What say ? And what not say? O would that I were dead I Surely, 'twas for a heavy destiny My mother gave me birth. I envy those Who've gone below ; 1 love them, and I long To occupy their dwellings. I joy not To see the light, or tread upon the earth, Stripped of io iweet a helpmate, whom grim Death Hath rendered up to Hades. Chorus. < )n, step on, And go to tiie concealment of thy house. 50 ALCESTIS. Admetus. Woe, woe ! Chorus. Things worthy of such cries of woe Have been thy portion. Admetus. Ah! Chorus. Most grievous pain Hast thou gone through, and that I know right well. Admetus. Alas, alas ! Chorus. But that doth profit not Her that's beneath. Admetus. Ah me ! Chorus. No more to gaze On thy loved wife and see her face to face, Is grief indeed. Admetus. Thou bringest to my mind What wounds me sore, for what worse ill can be Than to be parted from a loving wife ? Would I had never married her, nor dwelt Together with her in this house of mine. I envy the unmarried among men, And those who have no children ; for their life ALCESTIS. 51 Is single, and to grieve for it alone Is but a moderate burden. But to see Diseases in one's children, and the bed Graced by a happy bride laid waste in death, Is not to be endured, when one may be Childless, and never take the marriage vow. Chorus. Fate, fate, that's hard to struggle with, is come. Admetus. Woe, woe ! Chorus. Thou putt'st no limit to thy grief. Admetus. Ah, ah ! Chorus. A weight that's heavy to be borne, But yet — Admetus. Alas, alas ! Chorus. Endure thou it, Thou'rt nut the first who's lost — Admei i Ah me, ah mi ( HOI ! A wife ; hut this calamity weighs down One mortal, ///(//another, when it (omes. 52 ALCESTIS. Admetus. O mourning without end, and sorrowing For dear ones who have gone beneath the earth, Why did'st thou hinder me, nor let me throw Myself into the still unclosed tomb, And lifeless lie with her who is by far The best of women ? Hades then had had Two truly faithful souls, instead of one, Ferried together o'er the lake below. Chorus. There was a man akin to me, whose son, One much to be lamented, died within His house, an only child ; but yet he bore The evil patiently, though he was left Without a child, and now far on his way To hoary hairs, and to the verge of life. Admetus. O semblance of a house, how shall I come , Within thy bounds, how can I dwell in thee With such a change of fortune ? Woe is me ! For 'tis another thing. Then, then 'twas mine To enter it with brands of Pelian pine, And bridal songs, supporting the loved hand Of my young wife ; and after us there came A band of revellers with cheerings loud, Wishing much joy to her who now lies dead, ALCESTIS. 53 And lo myself, that, bom of gentle* blood, And both of noble parentage, we came And joined together in the marriage bond. But now laments instead of bridal hymns, And cloaks of black instead of raiment white. Escort me to my desert marriage bed. Chorus. This grief hath lighted on thee all unused To evil fortune following happier days, But in it thou hast saved thy life and soul ; Thy wife has died, and left behind for thee A fond remembrance. What is new in this ? Death hath already taken many a wife. Admetus. Friends, I account the fortune of" my wife More happy than my own, though it seems not so. t pain and grief will never touch her more, And with fair fame her many troubles end ; But I who have no right to live, who've passed My fated time, shall lead a life of pain. |ust now have I discovered it, for how Shall I endure to come within these doors? Whom greeting, and by whom addressed in turn, Shall I feel pleasing welcome when I come? whither -hall I turn ? The loneliness 1 h.v n ns within will drive me out again, 54 ALCESTIS. Whenever I look on the empty bed, Where slept my wife, the seats on which she sat, The chamber's squalid floor, and see, (sad sight !) My children falling on my knees with wail For their lost mother, and the servants all Mourning for such a mistress as has gone. Such scenes will be within, and out of doors The weddings of Thessalians, and the crowd Of women in their midst will drive me off. For never will I bear to look upon The jmpeers of my wife, and he who is My enemy will speak such words as these ; " This is the man who lives but on his shame, Who did not dare to die, but gave instead Her whom he married, in his cowardice Fleeing from Hades, and still does he dare To call himself a man ? But he does hate His parents, though objecting much himself To go below." Such ill-name shall I have Beside my heavy loss ! What profits it, My friends, that I should live, then, I who am Ill-spoken of, ill-faring every way. Chorus. I to the muses have applied myself, And lofty speculations, and have known The reasonings of many learned men, But never have I found a thing so strong ALCESTIS. 55 As stern necessity, nor ought to cope With it in Thracian tablets once inscribed From voice of Orpheus, nor in remedies Which Phoebus gave to ^Esculapius' sons, Dispensing healing to much-suffering man. But of this goddess only, may none come And sit before her altar, or her form In wood or stone, for no regard has she For sacrificial gifts. O may'st thou not, I )read goddess, come to me with greater force Than in my former life ! For e'en what Zeus Assents to, he accomplishes with thee. And with thy might thou conquerest the steel ind 'mongst the Chalybes, nor is there one Can. hope to bend thy most relentless will. And in her bonds, that are not to be shunned, The goddess holds thee fast. Submit thou, then, For never wilt thou bring up with thy tears Those who have perished, from the realm beneath. i the children of the secret loves Of the high gods must die. Most dear was sin- While she was with us, and she is still dear Though dead. And thou didst bring unto thy bed A wife the noblest of all woman kind. Let not her tomb be counted as a mound ( )'er one that's perished, but let her be held In honour like the gods, and r< vi rem i d By every wayfarer. And one will say 56 ALCESTIS. Who chances to ascend the sloping path, " This lady gave her life in time gone by To save from doom her husband. Now is she A blessed' goddess. Hail, O honoured one, Grant that we now may prosper ! " Such will be The words that greet her. And in truth here comes Alcmene's son, Admetus, to thy hearth As it appears. Heracles. Admetus, it is fit To speak with freedom to the man one loves, And not, restraining words, to keep reproach Within one's bosom. And I thought it right Chancing upon thee in thy wretchedness, To prove myself thy friend. But nought said'st thou Of thy wife lying dead. But in thy house Thou gav'st me entertainment, seemingly Busied about a loss that was not thine ; And I my head with garlands crowned, and poured Libations to the gods within a house So full of misery. And I blame, indeed, I blame thy treatment, but I would not add Ought to thy wretchedness. But let me tell Why I have come, returning back again. Take thou and tend this woman while I go And bring the Thracian horses back with me, First slaying him who rules Bistonian men. ALCESTIS. 57 But should that happen which I would not have, (For strong my hope to prosper), I do give This woman to attend thee in thy house ; But with much toil she came into my hands. For I found some appointing athletes' games, Open to all, and worthy the attempt, And thence I bring her who was given to me A prize for victory ; for 'twas allowed To those who conquered in the lesser games To bear off horses, and to those who won The greater, (wrestlers and the pugilists), A prize of cattle, and the woman went Along with them, and it was counted base For one who won the prize to pass her by, So honourably gained. But as I said, This woman must needs be a care to thee. lor not by theft, but with much heavy toil She came into my hands, and by-and-by Thou, too, perhaps wilt see 1 have done well. Admetus. Not out of disrespect for thee, nor thai I counted thee an enemy, did 1 I >n< <:al the v, d fortuni ol my wit. Hut 'twould have been another added grief, If thou hadst hurried from my house away I hare some other's hospitable board, but 'twas enough for me to have to moum ^8 ALCESTIS. My own misfortune. I beseech thee, prince, 'Mong the Thessalians bid some other man Who has not gone through sufferings such as mine To tend this woman, if it can be so. And many men of Pheras are thy friends ; do not make my sufferings live again. 1 could not keep from weeping, seeing her Within my house. O do not add disease To one diseased ; enough am I weighed down By my calamity. In what part, too, Of this abode of mine should one be lodged So young ? For that she's young is plainly shown By her adornments and her vesture, too. Must she, then, occupy a room with men ? And how can she unsullied long remain So mixed up with young men ? 'Tis hard to check, Heracles, the ardour of young blood. Thou seest my forethought for thy own behoof. Or, must I lodge her in the room of her Who's dead ? How can I bring her to the couch Where slept Alcestis ? Double blame I dread, Both from the people, lest there be who say 1 was untrue to her who saved my life, To fall into another girl's embrace ; And it behoves me to have much regard For her who's gone, and she in truth deserves My utmost reverence. But, O lady, know, ALCESTIS. 59 Whoe'er thou art, thou hast the very look And figure of Alcestis. Woe is me ! Take, by the gods, this woman from my sight, Nor ruin one already sore bestead. For seeing her, I seem to see my wife ; My heart is troubled, and from out my eyes Fountains burst forth. O miserable me ! How is my cup of bitter sorrow full ! Chorus. I indeed have not much that's good to saj Of fortune, but 'tis needful to bear well What God dispenses, be it what it may. Heraclks. Would that I had the power to bring again Thy wife to daylight from the abodes below, And gratify thy soul with such a boon ! Admetus. I know thou hast the will ; but what humus this? It is not in the power of the dead To come up to the light. H ERACL1 ■ I >'> thou not then Co to excess, but beai it as thou should I Adw i 1 1 'Tis easiei t<> advise than t<> endure < )ur ills with patieno . 60 ALCESTIS. Heracles. But what would'st thou gain If thou wert always uttering thy moans ? Admetus. I myself know it, but a longing strange To indulge in sorrow takes me past myself. Heracles. It is so, for remembrance of the dead Calls forth a tear. Admetus. She has undone me more Than I can tell. Heracles. Thou hast lost indeed a wife Most virtuous ; who can say she is not so ? Admetus. So that the man before thee shares no more The joys of life. Heracles. But time will heal thy grief, For now thy ill is still but in its youth. Admetus. Time thou mayst speak of, if thou mean'st by this The time to die. Heracles. A woman, and the wish For a new marriage will assuage thy grief. ALCESTIS. 6 1 Admetis. Hold ! what is that thou say'st ? Such thought as that Be far from me ! Heracles. But why ? For wilt thou not Marry again, but rather love the bed Of widowed solitude ? Admei There is no one Of womankind who shall repose with me. Heracles. Dost thou then think to benefit the dead ? Admetus. Tis meet that she be honoured wheresoe'er She chance to be. Heracles. True, true, but thou may'st still Be i harged with folly. Adi Say thou'lt never call This man a bridegroom. Hei lend thee that Thou art a friend most faithful to thy wife. Admei May I die now, if I be false to her Thoi exists not. 62 ALCESTIS. Heracles. Take this woman now Into thy noble halls. Admetus. O ask it not By Zeus thy sire, I pray thee. Heracles. Thou wilt err, Not doing it. Admetus. And doing it my heart Will be much pained. Heracles. Consent, for soon perchance This favour may receive fit recompense. Admetus. Oh how I wish she ne'er had been thy prize Won in the games ! Heracles. And yet thou hast a share With me in victory. Admetus. Thou hast spoken fair, But let the woman still depart from me. Heracles. She shall depart if it is fit, but first Think well about it whether it is fit. ALCESTIS. 63 Admetus. It is fit if thou'lt not be angry with me. Heracles. I also, knowing something, wish to have My way. Admetus. Then be it so, but what thou doest Is no way pleasing to me. Heracles. But some day Thou wilt approve my conduct, only yield ! Admetus. Bring her then, if she needs must be received Within my house. Heracles. I would not have her left With thy attendants. Adm etus. Take her then thyself Into my house if it seems good to thee. 1 I I.KAl I.I S. Then will I bring and place her in thy arms. Admetus, I will not touch her. yet she may be brought Into my house. I ll.KACI.KS. I trust in thy righj hand Aloi 64 ALCESTIS. Admetus. Thou forcest me, O prince, to do These things against my will. Heracles. Have courage then To extend thy hand and touch thy stranger guest. Admetus. Well then, I stretch it forth as I would touch A headless Gorgon. Heracles. Hast thou her? Admetus. I have. Heracles. Well then, take care of her and thou wilt say The son of Zeus has been a noble guest. Look on her, see if she in aught is like To thy lost wife, and in thy joy forget Thy sorrow. Admetus. O ye gods, what shall I say ? This is a most unhoped for miracle. Do I in truth see in this woman here My own loved wife, or does some mocking joy Godsent confound my senses ? Heracles. 'Tis not so, But in this woman thou dost see thy wife. ALCESTIS. 65 Admetus. Sec that she be no phantasm of the dead. Heracles. He whom thou mad'st thy friend can have no claim To be a necromancer. Admetus. Do I then Behold my wife whom I so late entombed ? Heracles. Assuredly, and yet I wonder not At thy distrust of fortune. Admetus. May I touch, And speak to her as my own living wife ? Heraclks. Speak to her, for thou hast thy heart's desire. Admetus. eyes and figure of a wife most dear, 1 have thee all unlooked for, for no hope Cheered me that I should ever *e thee more. Heracles. Thou hast her ; may no envy of the gods Light on thi Admetus. O thou noble son <>( Zeus, The mightiest, rruly'sl thou prosper in thy way, 66 ALCESTIS. And may the father who begat thee, guard Thee ever ! For 'tis thou alone hast raised My fortunes. How then didst thou send her up From underneath into the light of day ? Heracles. After a fight with him who is the lord Of life and death. Admetus. Where saidst thou, thou didst have This wrestling match with death ? Heracles. Beside the tomb, Seizing him from an ambush with my hands. Admetus. But why all speechless stands the woman here ? Heracles. It may not be that thou should'st hear her voice Before with offerings to the gods beneath She's purified herself, and light from heaven Three times hath dawned. But take her now within, And being henceforth just, Admetus, give Due honour to thy guests. And now farewell ! I go to do the work set out for me, To serve the royal son of Sthenelus. Admetus. Stay with us, and partake thou of our hearth ! ALCESTIS. 67 Heracles. Hereafter it shall be, but now I needs Must haste away. Admetus. Then may'st thou have success, And may'st thou come here with returning step ! And all the citizens will I command, And tetrarchs, with the dance to celebrate This happy issue, and the temples fill With sacrificial prayers. For now our life Is changed to better than it was before ; And that I'm fortunate I'll not deny. Chorus. Many and varied are the forms of fate, And many things unlooked for do the gods Perform, and that which was expected fails fulfilment, but the gods have found a way To bring to pass the things that none expect. In such a way has this affair turned out. v ^^-'^* W. DRESSER. PHINTLR. 41 HIQH HOW. DARLINGTON- Q P&1 9 ITVD-JO' 1 ee UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. tt JAN 171989 JAN 17 198 4 i f\i "% L005 114 103 4 AA 000 450 741 Bll