{"collection":"Classics","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/cla/eurip/alcestis.htm","path":"cla/eurip/alcestis.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/cla/eurip/alcestis.htm","text":"Alcestis\nBy Euripides\nTranslated by Richard Aldington\n----------------------------------------------------------------------\nDramatis Personae\nAPOLLO\nDEATH\nCHORUS OF OLD MEN\nA WOMAN SERVANT\nALCESTIS, the Queen, wife of ADMETUS\nADMETUS, King of Thessaly\nEUMELUS, their child\nHERACLES\nPHERES, father of ADMETUS\n----------------------------------------------------------------------\nAt Pherae, outside the Palace of ADMETUS, King of Thessaly. The centre\nof the scene represents a portico with columns and a large double-door.\nTo the left are the women's quarters, to the right the guest rooms.\nThe centre doors of the Palace slowly open inwards, and Apollo comes\nout. In his left hand he carries a large unstrung golden bow. He moves\nslowly and majestically, turns, and raises his right hand in salutation\nto the Palace.\n----------------------------------------------------------------------\nAPOLLO Dwelling of Admetus, wherein I, a God, deigned to accept\nthe food of serfs!\nThe cause was Zeus. He struck Asclepius, my son, full in the breast\nwith a bolt of thunder, and laid him dead. Then in wild rage I slew\nthe Cyclopes who forge the fire of Zeus. To atone for this my Father\nforced me to labour as a hireling for a mortal man; and I came to\nthis country, and tended oxen for my host. To this hour I have protected\nhim and his. I, who am just, chanced on the son of Pheres, a just\nman, whom I have saved from Death by tricking the Fates. The Goddesses\npledged me their faith Admetus should escape immediate death if, in\nexchange, another corpse were given to the Under-Gods.\nOne by one he tested all his friends, and even his father and the\nold mother who bad brought him forth-and found none that would die\nfor him and never more behold the light of day, save only his wife.\nNow, her spirit waiting to break loose, she droops upon his arm within\nthe house; this is the day when she must die and render up her life.\nBut I must leave this Palace's dear roof, for fear pollution soil\nme in the house.\nSee! Death, Lord of All the Dead, now comes to lead her to the house\nof Hades! Most punctually he comes! How well he marked the day she\nhad to die! (From the right comes DEATH, with a drawn sword in his\nhand. He moves stealthily towards the Palace; then sees APOLLO and\nhalts abruptly. The two Deities confront each other.)\nDEATH Ha! Phoebus! You! Before this Palace! Lawlessly would you grasp,\nabolish the rights of the Lower Gods! Did you not beguile the Fates\nand snatch Admetus from the grave? Does not that suffice? Now, once\nagain, you have armed your hand with the bow, to guard the daughter\nof Pelias who must die in her husband's stead!\nAPOLLO Fear not! I hold for right, and proffer you just words.\nDEATH If you hold for right, why then your bow?\nAPOLLO My custom is ever to carry it.\nDEATH Yes! And you use it unjustly to aid this house!\nAPOLLO I grieve for a friend's woe.\nDEATH So you would rob me of a second body?\nAPOLLO Not by force I won the other.\nDEATH Why, then, is he in the world and not below the ground?\nAPOLLO In his stead he gives his wife-whom you have come to take.\nDEATH And shall take-to the Underworld below the earth!\nAPOLLO Take her, and go! I know not if I can persuade you...\nDEATH Not to kill her I must kill? I am appointed to that task.\nAPOLLO No, no! But to delay death for those about to die.\nDEATH I hear your words and guess your wish!\nAPOLLO May not Alcestis live to old age?\nDEATH No! I also prize my rights!\nAPOLLO Yet at most you win one life.\nDEATH They who die young yield me a greater prize.\nAPOLLO If she dies old, the burial will be richer.\nDEATH Phoebus, that argument favours the rich.\nAPOLLO What! Are you witty unawares?\nDEATH The rich would gladly pay to die old.\nAPOLLO So you will not grant me this favour?\nDEATH Not I! You know my nature.\nAPOLLO Yes! Hateful to men and a horror to the gods!\nDEATH You cannot always have more than your due.\nAPOLLO Yet you shall change, most cruel though you are! For a man\ncomes to the dwelling of Pheres, sent by Eurystheus to fetch a horse-drawn\nchariot from the harsh-wintered lands of Thrace; and he shall be a\nguest in the house of Admetus, and by force shall he tear this woman\nfrom you. Thus shall you gain no thanks from us, and yet you shall\ndo this thing-and my hatred be upon you (APOLLO goes out. DEATH gazes\nafter him derisively.)\nDEATH Talk all you will, you get no more of me! The woman shall go\ndown to the dwelling of Hades. Now must I go to consecrate her for\nthe sacrifice with this sword; for when once this blade has shorn\nthe victim's hair, then he is sacred to the Lower Gods! (DEATH enters\nthe Palace by the open main door. The CHORUS enters from the right.\nThey are the Elders or Notables of the city, and, therefore move slowly,\nleaning upon their staffs.)\nLEADER OF THE CHORUS (chanting) Why is there no sound outside the\nPalace? Why is the dwelling of Admetus silent? Not a friend here to\ntell me if I must weep for a dead Queen or whether she lives and looks\nupon the light, Alcestis, the daughter of Pelias, whom among all women\nI hold the best wife to her spouse!\nCHORUS (Singing) Is a sob to be heard?\nOr the beating of hands\nIn the house?\nThe lament for her end?\nNot one,\nNot one of her servants\nStands at the gate!\nAh! to roll back the wave of our woe,\nO Healer,\nAppear!\nFIRST SEMI-CHORUS Were she dead\nThey had not been silent.\nSECOND SEMI-CHORUS She is but a dead body!\nFIRST SEMI-CHORUS Yet she has not departed the house.\nSECOND SEMI-CHORUS Ah! Let me not boast!\nWhy do you cling to hope?\nFIRST SEMI-CHORUS Would Admetus bury her solitary,\nMake a grave alone for a wife so dear?\nCHORUS At the gate I see not\nThe lustral water from the spring\nWhich stands at the gates of the dead!\nNo shorn tress in the portal\nLaid in lament for the dead!\nThe young women beat not their hands!\nSECOND SEMI-CHORUS Yet to-day is the day appointed....\nFIRST SEMI-CHORUS Ah! What have you said?\nSECOND SEMI-CHORUS When she must descend under earth\nFIRST SEMI-CHORUS You have pierced my soul!\nYou have pierced my mind!\nSECOND SEMI-CHORUS He that for long\nHas been held in esteem\nMust weep when the good are destroyed.\nCHORUS No!\nThere is no place on earth\nTo send forth a suppliant ship-\nNot to Lycia,\nNot to Ammon's waterless shrine-\nTo save her from death!\nThe dreadful doom is at hand.\nTo what laden altar of what God\nShall I turn my steps?\nHe alone-\nIf the light yet shone for his eye-\nAsclepius, Phoebus's son,\nCould have led her back\nFrom the land of shadows,\nFrom the gates of Hades,\nFor he raised the dead\nEre the Zeus-driven shaft\nSlew him with thunder fire....\nBut now\nWhat hope can I hold for her life?\nLEADER (chanting) The King has fulfilled\nEvery rite;\nThe altars of all the Gods\nDrip with the blood of slain beasts:\nNothing, nothing avails. (From the women's quarters in the left wing\nof the Palace comes a woman in tears. She is not a slave, but one\nof the personal attendants on the Queen.) But now from the house\ncomes one of her women servants, all in tears. What now shall I learn?\n(To the weeping Servant) It is well to weep when our lords are in\nsorrow-but tell us, we would know, is she alive, is she dead?\nSERVANT You may say she is both alive and dead.\nLEADER How can the same man be dead and yet behold the light?\nSERVANT She gasps, she is on the verge of death.\nLEADER Ah, unhappy man! For such a husband what loss is such a wife!\nSERVANT The King will not know his loss until he suffers it.\nLEADER Then there is no hope that her life may be saved?\nSERVANT The fated day constrains her.\nLEADER Are all things befitting prepared for her?\nSERVANT The robes in which her lord will bury her are ready.\nLEADER Then let her know that she dies gloriously, the best of women\nbeneath the sun by far!\nSERVANT How should she not be the best! Who shall deny it? What should\nthe best among women be? How better might a woman hold faith to her\nlord than gladly to die for him? This the whole city knows, but you\nwill marvel when you hear what she has done within the house. When\nshe knew that the last of her days was come she bathed her white body\nin river water, she took garments and gems from her rooms of cedar\nwood, and clad herself nobly; then, standing before the hearth-shrine,\nshe uttered this prayer:\n'O Goddess, since now I must descend beneath the earth, for the last\ntime I make supplication to you: and entreat you to protect my motherless\nchildren. Wed my son to a fair bride, and my daughter to a noble husband.\nLet not my children die untimely, as I their mother am destroyed,\nbut grant that they live out happy lives with good fortune in their\nown land!'\nTo every altar in Admetus's house she went, hung them with garlands.\noffered prayer, cut myrtle boughs-unweeping, unlamenting; nor did\nthe coming doom change the bright colour of her face.\nThen to her marriage-room she went, flung herself down upon her bed,\nand wept, and said:\n'O my marriage-bed, wherein I loosed my virgin girdle to him for whom\nI die! Farewell! I have no hatred for you. Only me you lose. Because\nI held my faith to you and to my lord-I must die. Another woman shall\npossess you, not more chaste indeed than I, more fortunate perhaps.'\nShe fell upon her knees and kissed it, and all the bed was damp with\nthe, tide of tears which flooded to her eyes. And when she was fulfilled\nof many tears, drooping she rose from her bed and made as if to go,\nand many times she turned to go and many times turned back, and flung\nherself once more upon the bed.\nHer children clung to their mother's dress, and wept; and she clasped\nthem in her arms and kissed them turn by turn, as a dying woman.\nAll the servants in the house wept with compassion for their Queen,\nBut she held out her hand to each, and there was none so base to whom\nshe did not speak, and who did not reply again.\nSuch is the misery in Admetus's house. If he had died, he would be\nnothing now; and, having escaped, he suffers an agony he will never\nforget.\nLEADER And does Admetus lament this woe-since he must be robbed of\nso noble a woman?\nSERVANT He weeps, and clasps in his arms his dear bedfellow, and\ncries to her not to abandon him, asking impossible things. For she\npines, and is wasted by sickness. She falls away, a frail burden on\nhis arm; and yet, though faintly, she still breathes, still strives\nto look upon the sunlight, which she shall never see hereafter-since\nnow for the last time she looks upon the orb and splendour of the\nsun I\nI go, and shall announce that you are here; for all men are not so\nwell-minded to their lords as loyally to stand near them in misfortunes,\nbut you for long have been a friend to both my lords. (She goes back\ninto the women's quarters of the Palace. The CHORUS now begins to\nsing.)\nFIRST SEMI-CHORUS O Zeus,\nWhat end to these woes?\nWhat escape from the Fate\nWhich oppresses our lords?\nSECOND SEMI-CHORUS Will none come forth?\nMust I shear my hair?\nMust we wrap ourselves\nIn black mourning folds?\nFIRST SEMI-CHORUS It is certain, O friends, it is certain?\nBut still let us cry to the Gods;\nVery great is the power of the Gods.\nCHORUS O King, O Healer,\nSeek out appeasement\nTo Admetus's agony!\nGrant this, Oh, grant it!\nOnce before did you find it;\nNow once more\nBe the Releaser from death.\nThe Restrainer of blood-drenched Hades!\nSECOND SEMI-CHORUS Alas!\nO son of Pheres.\nWhat ills shall you suffer\nBeing robbed of your spouse!\nFIRST SEMI-CHORUS At sight of such woes\nShall we cut our throats?\nShall we slip\nA dangling noose round our necks?\nCHORUS See! See!\nShe comes\nFrom the house with her lord!\nCry out, Oh, lament.\nO land of Pherae,\nFor the best of women\nFades away in her doom\nUnder the earth,\nTo dark Hades! (From the central door of the Palace comes a splendid\nbut tragical procession. Preceded by the royal guards, ADMETUS enters,\nsupporting ALCESTIS. The two children, a boy and a girl, cling to\ntheir mother's dress. There is a train of attendants and waiting women,\nwho bring a low throne for the fainting ALCESTIS.)\nLEADER OF THE CHORUS (chanting) Never shall I say that we ought\nto rejoice in marriage, but rather weep; this have I seen from of\nold and now I look upon the fate of the King, who loses the best of\nwives, and henceforth until the end his life shall be intolerable.\nALCESTIS (chanting) Sun, and you, light of day,\nVast whirlings of swift cloud!\nADMETUS The sun looks upon you and me, both of us miserable, who\nhave wrought nothing against the Gods to deserve death.\nALCESTIS (chanting) O Earth, O roof-tree of my home,\nBridal-bed of my country, Iolcus!\nADMETUS Rouse up, O unhappy one, and, do not leave me! Call upon\nthe mighty Gods to pity!\nALCESTIS (starting up and gazing wildly in terror, chanting) I see\nthe two-oared boat,\nI see the boat on the lake!\nAnd Charon,\nFerryman of the Dead,\nCalls to me, his hand on the oar:\n'Why linger? Hasten! You delay me!'\nAngrily he urges me.\nADMETUS Alas! How bitter to me is that ferrying of which you speak!\nO my unhappy one, how we suffer!\nALCESTIS (chanting) He drags me, he drags me away-\nDo you not see?-\nTo the House of the Dead,\nThe Winged One\nGlaring under dark brows,\nHades!-\nWhat is it you do?\nSet me free!-\nWhat a path must I travel,\nO most hapless of women!\nADMETUS O piteous to those that love you, above all to me and to\nthese children who sorrow in this common grief!\nALCESTIS (chanting) Loose me, Oh, loose me now;\nLay me down;\nAll strength is gone from my feet. (She falls back in the throne.)\nHades draws near!\nDark night falls on my eyes,\nMy children, my children,\nNever more, Oh, never more\nShall your mother be yours!\nO children, farewell,\nLive happy in the light of day!\nADMETUS (chanting) Alas! I hear this unhappy speech, and for me\nit is worse than all death. Ah! By the Gods, do not abandon me! Ah!\nBy our children, whom you leave motherless, take heart! If you die,\nI become as nothing; in you we have our life and death; we revere\nyour love.\nALCESTIS (recovering herself) Admetus, you see the things I suffer;\nand now before I die I mean to tell you what I wish.\nTo show you honour and-at the cost of my life-that you may still behold\nthe light, I die; and yet I might have lived and wedded any in Thessaly\nI chose, and dwelt with happiness in a royal home. But, torn from\nyou, I would not live with fatherless children, nor have I hoarded\nup those gifts of youth in which I found delight. Yet he who begot\nyou, she who brought you forth, abandoned you when it had been beautiful\nin them to die, beautiful to die with dignity to save their son! They\nhad no child but you, no hope if you were dead that other children\nmight be born to them. Thus I should have lived my life out, and you\ntoo, and you would not lament as now, made solitary from your wife,\nthat you must rear our children motherless!\nBut these things are a God's doing and are thus.\nWell! Do not forget this gift, for I shall ask-not a recompense, since\nnothing is more precious than life, but-only what is just, as you\nyourself will say, since if you have not lost your senses you must\nlove these children no less than I. Let them be masters in my house;\nmarry not again, and set a stepmother over them, a woman harsher than\nI, who in her jealousy will lift her hand against my children and\nyours. Ah! not this, let not this be, I entreat you! The new stepmother\nhates the first wife's children, the viper itself is not more cruel.\nThe son indeed finds a strong rampart in his father-but you, my daughter,\nhow shall you live your virgin life out in happiness? How will you\nfare with your father's new wife? Ah! Let her not cast evil report\nupon you and thus wreck your marriage in the height of your youth!\nYou will have no mother, O my child, to give you in marriage, to comfort\nyou in childbed when none is tenderer than a mother!\nAnd I must die. Not to-morrow. nor to-morrow's morrow comes this misfortune\non me, but even now I shall be named with those that are no more.\nFarewell! Live happy! You, my husband, may boast you had the best\nof wives; and you, my children, that you lost the best of mothers!\n(She falls back.)\nLEADER Take heart! I do not hesitate to speak for him. This he will\ndo, unless he has lost his senses.\nADMETUS It shall be so, it shall be! Have no fear! And since I held\nyou living as my wife, so, when dead, you only shall be called my\nwife, and in your place no bride of Thessaly shall salute me hers;\nno other woman is noble enough for that, no other indeed so beautiful\nof face. My children shall suffice me; I pray the Gods I may enjoy\nthem, since you we have not enjoyed.\nI shall wear mourning for you, O my wife, not for one year but all\nmy days, abhorring the woman who bore me, hating my father-for they\nloved me in words, not deeds. But you-to save my life you give the\ndearest thing you have! Should I not weep then, losing such a wife\nas you?\nI shall make an end of merry drinking parties, and of flower-crowned\nfeasts and of the music which possessed my house. Never again shall\nI touch the lyre, never again shall I raise my spirits to sing to\nthe Libyan flute-for you have taken from me all my joy. Your image,\ncarven by the skilled hands of artists, shall be laid in our marriage-bed;\nI shall clasp it, and my hands shall cling to it and I shall speak\nyour name and so, not having you, shall think I have my dear wife\nin my arms-a cold delight, I know, but it will lighten the burden\nof my days. Often you will gladden me, appearing in my dreams; for\nsweet it is to look on those we love in dreams, however brief the\nnight.\nAh! If I had the tongue and song of Orpheus so that I might charm\nDemeter's Daughter or her Lord, and snatch you back from Hades, would\ngo down to hell; and neither Pluto's dog nor Charon, Leader of the\nDead, should hinder me until I had brought your life back to the light!\nAt least await me there whenever I shall die, and prepare the house\nwhere you will dwell with me. I shall lay a solemn charge upon these\nchildren to stretch me in the same cedar shroud with you, and lay\nmy side against your side; for even in death let me not be separate\nfrom you, you who alone were faithful to me!\nLEADER (to ADMETUS) And I also will keep this sad mourning with\nyou, as a friend with a friend; for she is worthy of it.\nALCESTIS O my children, you have heard your father say that never\nwill he set another wife over you and never thus insult me.\nADMETUS Again I say it, and will perform it too!\nALCESTIS (placing the children's hands in his) Then take these children\nfrom my hand.\nADMETUS I take them-dear gifts from a dear hand.\nALCESTIS Now you must be the mother for me to my children.\nADMETUS It must be so, since they are robbed of you.\nALCESTIS O children, I should have lived my life out-and I go to\nthe Underworld.\nADMETUS Alas! What shall I do, left alone by you?\nALCESTIS Time will console you. The dead are nothing.\nADMETUS Take me with you, by the Gods! Take me to the Underworld!\nALCESTIS It is enough that I should die-for you.\nADMETUS O Fate, what a wife you steal from me!\nALCESTIS (growing faint) My dimmed eyes are heavily oppressed.\nADMETUS O woman, I am lost if you leave me!\nALCESTIS You may say of me that I am nothing.\nADMETUS Lift up your head! Do not abandon your children!\nALCESTIS Ah! Indeed it is unwillingly-but, farewell, my children!\nADMETUS Look at them, look....\nALCESTIS I am nothing.\nADMETUS What are you doing? Are you leaving me?\nALCESTIS (falling back dead) Farewell.\nADMETUS (staring at the body) Wretch that I am, I am lost!\nLEADER She is gone! The wife of Admetus is no more.\nEUMELUS (chanting) Ah! Misery!\nMother has gone,\nGone to the Underworld!\nShe lives no more,\nO my Father,\nIn the sunlight.\nO sad one,\nYou have left us\nTo live motherless!\nSee, Oh, see her eyelids\nAnd her drooping hands!\nMother, Mother,\nHearken to me, listen,\nI beseech you!\nI-I-Mother!-\nI am calling to you,\nYour little bird fallen upon your face!\nADMETUS She hears not, she sees not. You and I are smitten by a dread\ncalamity.\nEUMELUS (chanting) Father, I am a child,\nAnd I am left\nLike a lonely ship\nBy the mother I loved.\nOh! The cruel things I suffer!\nAnd you, little sister,\nSuffer with me.\nO my Father,\nVain, vain was your wedding,\nYou did not walk with her\nTo the end of old age.\nShe died first;\nAnd your death, O Mother,\nDestroys our house.\nLEADER Admetus, you must endure this calamity. You are not the first\nand will not be the last to lose a noble wife. We all are doomed to\ndie.\nADMETUS I know it.\nNot unawares did this woe swoop down on me; for long it has gnawed\nat me.\nBut, since I shall ordain the funeral rites for this dead body, you\nmust be there, and meanwhile let a threnody re-echo to the implacable\nGod of the Underworld. And all you men of Thessaly whom I rule-I order\nyou to share the mourning for this woman with severed hair and black-robed\ngarb. You who yoke the four-horsed chariot and the swift single horses,\ncut the mane from their necks with your steel.\nLet there be no noise of flutes or lyre within the city until twelve\nmoons are fulfilled. Never shall I bury another body so dear to me,\nnever one that has loved me better. From me she deserves all honour,\nsince she alone would die for me! (The body of ALCESTIS is carried\nsolemnly into the Palace, followed by ADMETUS, With bowed head, holding\none of his children by each hand. When all have entered, the great\ndoors are quietly shut.)\nCHORUS (singing, strophe 1)\nO Daughter of Pelias,\nHail to you in the house of Hades,\nIn the sunless home where you shall dwell!\nLet Hades, the dark-haired God,\nLet the old man, Leader of the Dead,\nWho sits at the oar and helm,\nKnow you:\nFar, far off is the best of women\nBorne beyond the flood of Acheron\nIn the two-oared boat!\n(antistrophe 1)\nOften shall the Muses' servants\nSing of you to the seven-toned\nLyre-shell of the mountain-tortoise,\nAnd praise you with mourning songs at Sparta\nWhen the circling season\nBrings back the month Carneius\nUnder the nightlong upraised moon,\nAnd in bright glad Athens.\nSuch a theme do you leave by your death\nFor the music of singers!\n(strophe 2)\nAh! That I had the power\nTo bring you back to the light\nFrom the dark halls of Hades,\nAnd from the waves of Cocytus\nWith the oar of the river of hell\nOh, you only,\nO dearest of women,\nYou only dared give your life\nFor the life of your lord in Hades!\nLight rest the earth above you,\nO woman.\nIf your lord choose another bridal-bed\nHe shall be hateful to me\nAs to your own children.\n(antistrophe 2)\nWhen his mother\nAnd the old father that begot him\nWould not give their bodies to the earth\nFor their son's sake,\nThey dared not deliver him-O cruel!\nThough their heads were grey.\nBut you,\nIn your lively youth,\nDied for him, and are gone from the light!\nAh! might I be joined\nWith a wife so dear!\nBut in life such fortune is rare.\nHow happy were my days with her! (From the left HERACLES enters.\nHe is black-bearded and of great physical strength; he wears a lion-skin\nover his shoulders and carries a large club.)\nHERACLES (with a gesture of salutation) Friends, dwellers in the\nlands of Pherae, do I find Admetus in his home?\nLEADER OF THE CHORUS The son of Pheres is in his home, O Heracles.\nBut, tell us, what brings you to the land of Thessaly and to the city\nof Pherae?\nHERACLES I have a task I must achieve for Eurystheus of Tiryns.\nLEADER Where do you go? To what quest are you yoked?\nHERACLES The quest of the four-horsed chariot of Diomedes, the Thracian.\nLEADER But how will you achieve it? Do you know this stranger?\nHERACLES No, I have never been to the land of the Bistones.\nLEADER You cannot obtain the horses without a struggle.\nHERACLES I cannot renounce my labours.\nLEADER You must kill to return, or you will remain there dead.\nHERACLES It will not be the first contest I have risked.\nLEADER And if you conquer the King will you gain anything?\nHERACLES I shall bring back his foals to the lord of Tiryns.\nLEADER It is not easy to thrust the bit into their jaws.\nHERACLES Only if they breathe fire from their nostrils!\nLEADER But they tear men with their swift jaws.\nHERACLES You speak of the food of wild mountain beasts, not of horses.\nLEADER You may see their mangers foul with blood.\nHERACLES Of what father does the breeder boast himself the son?\nLEADER Of Ares, the lord of the gold-rich shield of Thrace!\nHERACLES In this task once more you remind me of my fate, which is\never upon harsh steep ways, since I must join battle with the sons\nof Ares-first with Lycaon, then with Cycnus, and now in this third\ncontest I am come to match myself with these steeds and their master!\nLEADER But see, the lord of this land, Admetus himself, comes from\nthe house! (The central doors of the Palace have opened, and ADMETUS\ncomes slowly on the Stage, preceded and followed by guards and attendants.\nThe King has put off all symbols of royalty, and is dressed in black.\nHis tong hair is clipped close to his head. ADMETUS dissembles his\ngrief throughout this scene, in obedience to the laws of hospitality,\nwhich were particularly reverenced in Thessaly.)\nADMETUS Hail Son of Zeus and of the blood of Perseus!\nHERACLES And hail to you, Admetus, lord of the Thessalians\nADMETUS May it be so! I know your friendship well.\nHERACLES What means this shorn hair, this mourning robe?\nADMETUS To-day I must bury a dead body.\nHERACLES May a God avert harm from your children!\nADMETUS The children I have begotten are alive in the house.\nHERACLES Your father was ripe for death-if it is he has gone?\nADMETUS He lives-and she who brought me forth, O Heracles.\nHERACLES Your wife-Alcestis-she is not dead?\nADMETUS (evasively) Of her I might make a double answer.\nHERACLES Do you mean that she is dead or alive?\nADMETUS (ambiguously) She is and is not-and for this I grieve.\nHERACLES (perplexed) I am no wiser-you speak obscurely.\nADMETUS Did you not know the fate which must befall her?\nHERACLES I know she submitted to die for you.\nADMETUS How then can she be alive, having consented to this?\nHERACLES Ah! Do not weep for your wife till that time comes.\nADMETUS Those who are about to die are dead, and the dead are nothing.\nHERACLES Men hold that to be and not to be are different things.\nADMETUS You hold for one, Heracles, and I for the other.\nHERACLES Whom, then, do you mourn? Which of your friends is dead?\nADMETUS A woman. We spoke of her just now.\nHERACLES (mistaking his meaning) A stranger? Or one born of your\nkin?\nADMETUS A stranger, but one related to this house.\nHERACLES But how, then, did she chance to die in your house?\nADMETUS When her father died she was sheltered here.\nHERACLES Alas! Would I had not found you in this grief, Admetus!\nADMETUS What plan are you weaving with those words?\nHERACLES I shall go to the hearth of another friend.\nADMETUS Not so, O King! This wrong must not be.\nHERACLES (hesitating) The coming of a guest is troublesome to those\nwho mourn.\nADMETUS (decisively) The dead are dead. Enter my house.\nHERACLES But it is shameful to feast among weeping friends.\nADMETUS We shall put you in the guest-rooms, which are far apart.\nHERACLES Let me go, and I will give you a thousand thanks.\nADMETUS No, you shall not go to another man's hearth. (To a servant)\nGuide him, and open for him the guest-rooms apart from the house.\n(HERACLES enters the Palace by the guests' door; when he has gone\nin, ADMETUS turns to the other servants) Close the inner door of\nthe courtyard; it is unseemly that guests rejoicing at table should\nhear lamentations, and be saddened. (The attendants go into the Palace.)\nLEADER What are you about? When such a calamity has fallen upon you,\nAdmetus, have you the heart to entertain a guest? Are you mad?\nADMETUS And if I had driven away a guest who came to my house and\ncity, would you have praised me more? No, indeed! My misfortune would\nhave been no less, and I inhospitable. One more ill would have been\nadded to those I have if my house were called inhospitable. I myself\nfind him the best of hosts when I enter the thirsty land of Argos.\nLEADER But why did you hide from him the fate that has befallen,\nif the man came as a friend, as you say?\nADMETUS Never would he have entered my house if he had guessed my\nmisfortune.\nTo some, I know, I shall appear senseless in doing this, and they\nwill blame me; but my roof knows not to reject or insult a guest.\n(He goes into the Palace, as the CHORUS begins its song.)\nCHORUS (singing, strophe 1)\nO house of a bountiful lord,\nEver open to many guests,\nThe God of Pytho,\nApollo of the beautiful lyre,\nDeigned to dwell in you\nAnd to live a shepherd in your lands!\nOn the slope of the hillsides\nHe played melodies of mating\nOn the Pipes of Pan to his herds.\n(antistrophe 1)\nAnd the dappled lynxes fed with them\nIn joy at your singing;\nFrom the wooded vale of Orthrys\nCame a yellow troop of lions;\nTo the sound of your lyre, O Phoebus,\nDanced the dappled fawn\nMoving on light feet\nBeyond the high-crested pines,\nCharmed by your sweet singing.\n(strophe 2)\nHe dwells in a home most rich in flocks\nBy the lovely moving Boebian lake.\nAt the dark stabling-place of the Sun\nHe takes the sky of the Molossians\nAs a bourne to his ploughing of fields,\nTo the soils of his plains;\nHe bears sway\nAs far as the harbourless\nCoast of the Aegean Sea,\nAs far as Pelion.\n(antistrophe 2)\nEven to-day he opened his house\nAnd received a guest,\nThough his eyelids were wet\nWith tears wept by the corpse\nOf a dear bedfellow dead in the house.\nFor the noble spirit is proclaimed by honour;\nAll wisdom lies with the good.\nI admire him:\nAnd in my soul I know\nThe devout man shall have joy. (The funeral procession of ALCESTIS\nenters from the door of the women's quarters. The body, carried on\na bier by men servants, is followed by ADMETUS and his two children.\nBehind them comes a train of attendants and servants carrying the\nfuneral offerings. All are in mourning. ADMETUS addresses the CHORUS.)\nADMETUS O friendly presence of you men of Pherae! Now that the body\nis prepared, and the servants bear it on high to the tomb and the\nfire, do you, as is fitting, salute the dead as she goes forth on\nher last journey. (PHERES, the father of ADMETUS, enters, followed\nby attendants bearing funeral offerings.)\nLEADER OF THE CHORUS But I see your father, tottering with an old\nman's walk, and his followers bearing in their hands for your wife\ngarments as an offering to the dead.\nPHERES My son, I have come to share your sorrow, for the wife you\nhave lost was indeed noble and virtuous-none can deny it. But these\nthings must be endured, however intolerable they may be.\nTake these garments, and let her descend under the earth. Her body\nmust be honoured, for she died to save your life, my son; she has\nnot made me childless, nor left me to be destroyed without you in\nmy hapless old age; and she has given glorious fame to all women by\ndaring so noble a deed! (He lifts his hand in salutation to the body\nof ALCESTIS.) O woman, who saved my son, who raised me up when I\nhad fallen, hail! Be happy in the halls of Hades! I declare it-such\nmarriages are profitable to mankind; otherwise, it is foolish to marry.\nADMETUS (furiously) It was not my wish that you should come to this\nburial, and I deny that your presence is that of a friend! She shall\nnever wear these garments of yours; she needs not your gifts for her\nburial. You should have grieved when I was, about to die; but you\nstood aside, and now do you come to wail over a corpse when you, an\nold man, allowed a young woman to die?\nWere you in very truth father of this body of mine? Did she, who claims\nto be and is called my mother, bring me forth? Or was I bred of a\nslave's seed and secretly brought to your wife's breast? You have\nproved what you are when it comes to the test, and therefore I am\nnot your begotten son; or you surpass all men in cowardice, for, being\nat the very verge and end of life, you had neither courage nor will\nto die for your son. But this you left to a woman, a stranger, whom\nalone I hold as my father and my mother!\nYet it had been a beautiful deed in you to die for your son, and short\nindeed was the time left you to live. She and I would have lived out\nour lives, and I should not now be here alone lamenting my misery.\nYou enjoyed all that a happy man can enjoy-you passed the flower of\nyour age as a king, and in me your son you had an heir to your dominion;\nyou would not have died childless, leaving an orphaned house to be\nplundered by strangers. You will not say that you abandoned me to\ndeath because I dishonoured your old age, for above all I was respectful\nto you-and this is the gratitude I have from you and my mother!\nBeget more sons, and quickly, to cherish your old age and wrap you\nin a shroud when dead and lay your body out in state! This hand of\nmine shall not inter you. I am dead to you. I look upon the light\nof day because another saved me-I say I am her son, and will cherish\nher old age!\nVainly do old men pray for death, regretting their age and the long\nspan of life. If death draws near, none wants to die, and age is no\nmore a burden to him.\nLEADER Admetus! The present misfortune is enough. Do not provoke\nyour father's spirit. (ADMETUS turns angrily to depart, but PHERES\nprevents him.)\nPHERES My son, do you think you are pursuing some hireling Lydian\nor Phrygian with your taunts? Do you know I am a Thessalian, a free\nman lawfully begotten by a Thessalian father? You are over-insolent,\nand you shall not leave thus, after wounding me with your boyish insults.\nI indeed begot you, and bred you up to be lord of this land, but I\nam not bound to die for you. It is not a law of our ancestors or of\nHellas that the fathers should die for the children! You were born\nto live your own life, whether miserable or fortunate; and what is\ndue to you from me you have. You rule over many men, and I shall leave\nyou many wide fields even as received them from my own father. How,\nthen, have I wronged you? Of what have I robbed you? Do not die for\nme, any more than I die for you. You love to look upon the light of\nday-do you think your father hates it? I tell myself that we are a\nlong time underground and that life is short, but sweet.\nBut you-you strove shamelessly not to die, and you are alive, you\nshirked your fate by killing her! And you call me a coward, you, the\nworst of cowards, surpassed by a woman who died for you, pretty boy?\nAnd now you insult those who should be dear to you, when they refuse\nto die for a coward like you!\nBe silent! Learn that if you love your life, so do others. If you\nutter insults, you shall hear many, and true ones too!\nLEADER These insults and those that went before suffice. Old man,\ncease to revile your son.\nADMETUS (to PHERES) Speak on! I shall refute you. If the truth wounds\nyou when you hear it you should not have wronged me.\nPHERES I should have wronged you far more if I had died for you.\nADMETUS It is the same then to die an old man and in the flower of\nlife?\nPHERES We should live one life, not two.\nADMETUS May you live longer than God!\nPHERES Do you curse your parents when they have done you no wrong?\nADMETUS I see you are in love with long life.\nPHERES But you are not carrying her dead body in place of your own?\nADMETUS It is the proof of your cowardice, O worst of men.\nPHERES You cannot say she died for me!\nADMETUS Alas! May you one day need my help.\nPHERES Woo many women, so that more may die for you.\nADMETUS To your shame be it-you who dared not die.\nPHERES Sweet is the daylight of the Gods, very sweet.\nADMETUS Your spirit is mean, not a man's.\nPHERES Would you laugh to carry an old man's body to the grave?\nADMETUS You will die infamous, whenever you die.\nPHERES It will matter little enough to me to hear ill of myself when\nI am dead!\nADMETUS Alas! Alas! full of impudence. is old age!\nPHERES She was not impudent, but foolish,\nADMETUS Go! Leave me to bury her body.\nPHERES (turning away) I go. You, her murderer, will bury her-but\nsoon you must render an account to her relatives. Acastus is not a\nman if he fails to avenge his sister's blood on you! (PHERES goes\nout by the way he entered, followed by his attendants. ADMETUS gazes\nangrily after him.)\nADMETUS Go with a curse, you, and she who dwells with you! Grow old,\nas you ought, childless though you have a child. You shall never return\nto this house. And if I could renounce your hearth as my father's\nby heralds, I would do it. But we-since this sorrow must be endured-let\nus go, and set her body on the funeral pyre. (The Procession moves\nslowly along the stage, and is joined by the CHORUS. As they pass,\nthe LEADER salutes the body of ALCESTIS.)\nLEADER (chanting) Alas! Alas! You who suffer for your courage, O\nnoblest and best of women, hail! May Hermes of the Dead, may Hades,\ngreet you kindly. If there are rewards for the dead, may you share\nthem as you sit by the bride of the Lord of the Dead! (The Procession\nhas filed out. A servant in mourning hurries out from the guests'\nquarters.)\nSERVANT Many guests from every land, I know, have come to the Palace\nof Admetus, and I have set food before them, but never one worse than\nthis guest have I welcomed to the hearth.\nFirst, though he saw our Lord was in mourning, he entered, and dared\nto pass through the gates. Then, knowing our misfortune, he did not\nsoberly accept what was offered him, but if anything was not served\nto him he ordered us to bring it. In both hands he took a cup of ivy-wood,\nand drank the unmixed wine of the dark grape-mother, until he was\nencompassed and heated with the flame of wine. He crowned his head\nwith myrtle sprays, howling discordant songs. There was he caring\nnothing for Admetus's misery, and we servants weeping for our Queen;\nand yet we hid our tear-laden eyes from the guest, for so Admetus\nhad commanded.\nAnd now in the Palace I must entertain this stranger, some villainous\nthief and brigand, while she, the Queen I mourn, has gone from the\nhouse unfollowed, unsaluted, she who was as a mother to me and all\nus servants, for she sheltered us from a myriad troubles by softening\nher husband's wrath.\nAm I not right, then, to hate this stranger, who came to us in the\nmidst of sorrow? (HERACLES comes from the Palace. He is drunkenly\nmerry, with a myrtle wreath on his head, and a large cup and wine-skin\nin his hands. He staggers a little.)\nHERACLES Hey, you! Why so solemn and anxious? A servant should not\nbe sullen with guests, but greet them with a cheerful heart.\nYou see before you a man who is your lord's friend, and you greet\nhim with a gloomy, frowning face, because of your zeal about a strange\nwoman's death. Come here, and let me make you a little wiser! (With\ndrunken gravity) Know the nature of human life? Don't think you do.\nYou couldn't. Listen to me. All mortals must die. Isn't one who knows\nif he'll be alive to-morrow morning. Who knows where Fortune will\nlead? Nobody can teach it. Nobody learn it by rules. So, rejoice in\nwhat you hear, and learn from me! Count each day as it comes as Life-and\nleave the rest to Fortune. Above all, honour the Love Goddess, sweetest\nof all the Gods to mortal men, a kindly goddess! Put all the rest\naside. Trust in what I say, if you think I speak truth-as I believe.\nGet rid of this gloom, rise superior to Fortune. Crown yourself with\nflowers and drink with me, won't you? I know the regular clink of\nthe wine-cup will row you from darkness and gloom to another haven.\nMortals should think mortal thoughts. To all solemn and frowning men,\nlife I say is not life, but a disaster.\nSERVANT We know all that, but what we endure here to-day is far indeed\nfrom gladness and laughter.\nHERACLES But the dead woman was a stranger. Lament not overmuch,\nthen, for the Lords of this Palace are still alive.\nSERVANT How, alive? Do you not know the misery of this house?\nHERACLES Your lord did not lie to me?\nSERVANT He goes too far in hospitality!\nHERACLES But why should I suffer for a stranger's death?\nSERVANT It touches this house only too nearly.\nHERACLES Did he hide some misfortune from me?\nSERVANT Go in peace! The miseries of our lords concern us.\nHERACLES That speech does not imply mourning for a stranger!\nSERVANT No, or I should not have been disgusted to see you drinking.\nHERACLES Have I then been basely treated by my host?\nSERVANT You did not come to this house at a welcome hour. We are\nin mourning. You see my head is shaved and the black garments I wear.\nHERACLES But who, then, is dead? One of the children? The old father?\nSERVANT O stranger, Admetus no longer has a wife.\nHERACLES What! And yet I was received in this way?\nSERVANT He was ashamed to send you away from his house.\nHERACLES O hapless one! What a wife you have lost!\nSERVANT Not she alone, but all of us are lost.\nHERACLES (now completely sobered) I felt there was something when\nI saw his tear-wet eyes, his shaven head, his distracted look. But\nhe persuaded me he was taking the body of a stranger to the grave.\nAgainst my will I entered these ates, and drank in the home of this\ngenerous man-and he in such grief! And shall I drink at such a time\nwith garlands of flowers on my head? You, why did you not tell me\nthat such misery had come upon this house? Where is he burying her?\nWhere shall I find him?\nSERVANT Beside the straight road which leads to Larissa you will\nsee a tomb of polished stone outside the walls. (Returns to the servants'\nquarters)\nHERACLES O heart of me, much-enduring heart, O right arm, now indeed\nmust you show what son was born to Zeus by Alcmena, the Tirynthian,\ndaughter of Electryon! For I must save this dead woman, and bring\nback Alcestis to this house as a grace to Admetus.\nI shall watch for Death, the black-robed Lord of the Dead, and I know\nI shall find him near the tomb, drinking the blood of the sacrifices.\nIf can leap upon him from an ambush, seize him, grasp him in my arms,\nno power in the world shall tear his bruised sides from me until he\nhas yielded up this woman. If I miss my prey, if he does not come\nnear the bleeding sacrifice, I will go down to Kore and her lord in\ntheir sunless dwelling, and I will make my entreaty to them, and I\nknow they will give me Alcestis to bring back to the hands of the\nhost who welcomed me, who did not repulse me from his house, though\nhe was smitten with heavy woe which most nobly he hid from me! Where\nwould be a warmer welcome in Thessaly or in all the dwellings of Hellas?\nHe shall not say he was generous to an ingrate! (HERACLES goes out.\nPresently ADMETUS and his attendants, followed by the CHORUS, return\nfrom the burial of ALCESTIS.)\nADMETUS (chanting) Alas!\nHateful approach, hateful sight of my widowed house! Oh me! Oh me!\nAlas! Whither shall I go? Where rest? What can I say? What refrain\nfrom saying? Why can I not die? Indeed my mother bore me for a hapless\nfate. I envy the dead, I long to be with them, theirs are the dwellings\nwhere I would be. Without pleasure I look upon the light of day and\nset my feet upon the earth-so precious a hostage has Death taken from\nme to deliver unto Hades!\nCHORUS (chanting responsively with ADMETUS) Go forward,\nEnter your house.\nADMETUS Alas!\nCHORUS Your grief deserves our tears.\nADMETUS O Gods!\nCHORUS I know you have entered into sorrow.\nADMETUS Woe! Woe!\nCHORUS Yet you bring no aid to the dead.\nADMETUS Oh me! Oh me!\nCHORUS Heavy shall it be for you\nNever to look again\nOn the face of the woman you love.\nADMETUS You bring to my mind the grief that breaks my heart. What\nsorrow is worse for a man than the loss of such a woman? I would I\nhad never married, never shared my house with her. I envy the wifeless\nand the childless. They live but one life-what is suffering to them?\nBut the sickness of children, bridal-beds ravished by Death-dreadful!\nwhen we might be wifeless and childless to the end.\nCHORUS Chance, dreadful Chance, has stricken you.\nADMETUS Alas!\nCHORUS But you set no limit to your grief.\nADMETUS Ah! Gods!\nCHORUS A heavy burden to bear, and yet...\nADMETUS Woe! Woe!\nCHORUS Courage! You are not the first to lose...\nADMETUS Oh me! Oh me!\nCHORUS A wife.\nDifferent men\nFate crushes with different blows.\nADMETUS O long grief and mourning for those beloved under the earth!\nWhy did you stay me from casting myself into the hollow grave to lie\ndown for ever in death by the best of women? Two lives, not one, had\nthen been seized by Hades, most faithful one to the other; and together\nwe should have crossed the lake of the Underworld.\nCHORUS A son most worthy of tears\nWas lost to one of my house,\nYet, childless, he suffered with courage,\nThough the white was thick in his hair\nAnd his days were far-spent!\nADMETUS O visage of my house! How shall I enter you? How shall I\ndwell in you, now that Fate has turned its face from me? How great\nis the change! Once, of old, I entered my house with marriage-songs\nand the torches of Pelion, holding a loved woman by the hand, followed\nby a merry crowd shouting good wishes to her who is dead and to me,\nbecause we had joined our lives, being both noble and born of noble\nlines. Today, in place of marriage-songs are lamentations; instead\nof white garments I am clad in mourning, to return to my house and\na solitary bed.\nCHORUS Grief has fallen upon you\nIn the midst of a happy life\nUntouched by misfortune.\nBut your life and your spirit are safe.\nShe is dead,\nShe has left your love.\nIs this so new?\nEre now many men\nDeath has severed from wives.\nADMETUS (speaking) O friends, whatsoever may be thought by others,\nto me it seems that my wife's fate is happier than mine. Now, no pain\never shall touch her again; she has reached the noble end of all her\nsufferings. But I, I who should have died, I have escaped my fate,\nonly to drag out a wretched life. Only now do I perceive it.\nHow shall I summon strength to enter this house? Whom shall I greet?\nWho will greet me in joy at my coming? Whither shall I turn my steps?\nI shall be driven forth by solitude when I see my bed widowed of my\nwife, empty the chairs on which she sat, a dusty floor beneath my\nroof, my children falling at my knees and calling for their mother,\nand the servants lamenting for the noble lady lost from the house!\nSuch will be my life within the house. Without, I shall be driven\nfrom marriage-feasts and gatherings of the women of Thessaly. I shall\nnot endure to look upon my wife's friends. Those who hate me will\nsay: 'See how he lives in shame, the man who dared not die, the coward\nwho gave his wife to Hades in his stead! Is that a man? He hates his\nparents, yet he himself refused to die!'\nThis evil fame I have added to my other sorrows. O my friends, what\nthen avails it that I live, if I must live in misery and shame? (He\ncovers his head with his robe, and crouches in abject misery on the\nsteps of his Palace.)\nCHORUS (singing, strophe 1)\nI have lived with the Muses\nAnd on lofty heights:\nMany doctrines have I learned;\nBut Fate is above us all.\nNothing avails against Fate\nNeither the Thracian tablets\nMarked with Orphic symbols,\nNor the herbs given by Phoebus\nTo the children of Asclepius\nTo heal men of their sickness.\n(antistrophe 1)\nNone can come near to her altars,\nNone worship her statues;\nShe regards not our sacrifice.\nO sacred goddess,\nBear no more hardly upon me\nThan in days overpast!\nWith a gesture Zeus judges,\nBut the sentence is yours.\nHard iron yields to your strength;\nYour fierce will knows not gentleness.\n(strophe 2)\nAnd the Goddess has bound you\nIneluctably in the gyves of her hands.\nYield.\nCan your tears give life to the dead?\nFor the sons of the Gods\nSwoon in the shadow of Death.\nDear was she in our midst,\nDear still among the dead,\nFor the noblest of women was she\nWho lay in your bed.\n(antistrophe 2)\nAh!\nLet the grave of your spouse\nBe no more counted as a tomb,\nBut revered as the Gods,\nAnd greeted by all who pass by!\nThe wanderer shall turn from his path,\nSaying: 'She died for her lord;\nA blessed spirit she is now.\nHail, O sacred lady, be our friend!'\nThus shall men speak of her. (ADMETUS is still crouched on the Palace\nsteps, when HERACLES enters from the side, leading a veiled woman.)\nLEADER OF THE CHORUS But see! The son of Alcmena, as I think, comes\nto your house. (ADMETUS uncovers his head, and faces the newcomer.)\nHERACLES Admetus, a man should speak freely to his friends, and not\nkeep reproaches silent in his heart. Since I was near you in your\nmisfortune, should have wished to show myself your friend. But you\ndid not tell me the dead body was your wife's, and you took me into\nyour house as if you were in mourning only for a stranger. And I put\na garland of flowers upon my head, and poured wine-offerings to the\nGods, when your house was filled with lamentation. I blame you, yes,\nI blame you for this-but I will not upbraid you in your misfortune.\nWhy I turned back and am here, I shall tell you. Take and keep this\nwoman for me until I have slain the King of the Bistones and return\nhere with the horses of Thrace. If ill happens to me-may I return\nsafely!-I give her to you to serve in your house.\nWith much striving I won her to my hands. On my way I found public\ngames, worthy of athletes, and I have brought back this woman whom\nI won as the prize of victory. The winners of the easy tests had horses;\nheads of cattle were given to those who won in boxing and wrestling.\nThen came a woman as a prize. Since I was present, it would have been\nshameful for me to miss this glorious gain. Therefore, as I said,\nyou must take care of this woman, whom I bring to you, not as one\nstolen but as the prize of my efforts. Perhaps in time you will approve\nof what I do.\nADMETUS Not from disdain, nor to treat you as a foe, did I conceal\nmy wife's fate from you. But if you had turned aside to another man's\nhearth, one more grief had been added to my sorrow. It was enough\nthat I should weep my woe.\nThis woman-O King, I beg it may be thus-enjoin some other Thessalian,\none who is not in sorrow, to guard her. In Pherae there are many to\nwelcome you. Do not remind me of my grief. Seeing her in my house,\nI could not restrain my tears. Add not a further anguish to my pain,\nfor what I suffer is too great. And then-where could I harbour a young\nwoman in my house? For she is young-I see by her clothes and jewels.\nCould she live with the men under my roof? How, then, could she remain\nchaste, if she moved to and fro among the young men? Heracles, it\nis not easy to restrain the young....I am thinking of your interests....Must\nI take her to my dead wife's room? How could I endure her to enter\nthat bed? I fear a double reproach-from my people, who would accuse\nme of betraying my saviour to slip into another woman's bed, and from\nmy dead wife, who deserves my respect, for which I must take care.\nO woman, whosoever you may be, you have the form of Alcestis, and\nyour body is like hers.\nAh! By all the Gods, take her from my sight! Do not insult a broken\nman. When I look upon her-she seems my wife-my heart is torn asunder-tears\nflow from my eyes. Miserable creature that I am, now taste the bitterness\nof my sorrow.\nLEADER I do not praise this meeting; but, whatever happens, we must\naccept the gifts of the Gods.\nHERACLES Oh, that I might bring your wife back into the light of\nday from the dwelling of the Under-Gods, as a gift of grace to you!\nADMETUS I know you would wish this-but to what end? The dead cannot\nreturn to the light of day.\nHERACLES Do not exaggerate, but bear this with decorum.\nADMETUS Easier to advise than bear the test.\nHERACLES How will it aid you to lament for ever?\nADMETUS I know-but my love whirls me away.\nHERACLES Love for the dead leads us to tears.\nADMETUS I am overwhelmed beyond words.\nHERACLES You have lost a good wife-who denies it?\nADMETUS So that for me there is no more pleasure in life.\nHERACLES Time will heal this open wound.\nADMETUS You might say Time, if Time were death!\nHERACLES Another woman, a new marriage, shall console you.\nADMETUS Oh, hush! What have you said? A thing unbelievable!\nHERACLES What! You will not marry? Your bed will remain widowed?\nADMETUS No other woman shall ever lie at my side.\nHERACLES Do you think that avails the dead?\nADMETUS Wherever she may be, I must do her honour.\nHERACLES I praise you-but men will call you mad.\nADMETUS Yet never more shall I be called a bridegroom.\nHERACLES I praise your faithful love to your wife-\nADMETUS May I die if I betray her even when dead!\nHERACLES (offering him the veiled woman's hand.) Receive her then\ninto your noble house.\nADMETUS No, by Zeus who begot you, no!\nHERACLES Yet you will do wrong if you do not take her.\nADMETUS If I do it, remorse will tear my heart.\nHERACLES Yield-perhaps it will be a good thing for you.\nADMETUS Ah! If only you had not won her in the contest!\nHERACLES But I conquered-and you conquered with me.\nADMETUS It is true-but let the woman go hence.\nHERACLES She shall go, if she must. But first-ought she to go?\nADMETUS She must-unless it would anger you.\nHERACLES There is good reason for my zeal.\nADMETUS You have conquered then-but not for my pleasure.\nHERACLES One day you will praise me for it-be persuaded.\nADMETUS (to his attendants) Lead her in, since she must be received\nin this house.\nHERACLES No, I cannot leave such a woman to servants.\nADMETUS Then lead her in yourself, if you wish.\nHERACLES I must leave her in your hands.\nADMETUS I must not touch her-let her go into the house.\nHERACLES I trust only in your right hand.\nADMETUS O King, you force me to this against my will.\nHERACLES Put forth your hand and take this woman.\nADMETUS (turning aside his head) It is held out.\nHERACLES As if you were cutting off a Gorgon's head! Do you hold\nher?\nADMETUS Yes.\nHERACLES Then keep her. You shall not deny that the son of Zeus is\na grateful guest. (Takes off the veil and shows ALCESTIS.) Look\nat her, and see if she is not like your wife. And may joy put an end\nto all your sorrow!\nADMETUS (drops her hand and starts back) O Gods! What am I to say?\nUnhoped-for wonder! Do I really look upon my wife? Or I am snared\nin the mockery of a God?\nHERACLES No you look upon your wife indeed.\nADMETUS Beware! May it not be some phantom from the Underworld?\nHERACLES Do not think your guest a sorcerer.\nADMETUS But do I indeed look upon the wife I buried?\nHERACLES Yes-but I do not wonder at your mistrust.\nADMETUS Can I touch, speak to her, as my living wife?\nHERACLES Speak to her-you have all you desired.\nADMETUS (taking ALCESTIS in his arms) O face and body of the dearest\nof women! I have you once more, when I thought I should never see\nyou again!\nHERACLES You have her-may the envy of the Gods be averted from you!\nADMETUS O noble son of greatest Zeus, fortune be yours, and may your\nFather guard you! But how did you bring her back from the Underworld\nto the light of day?\nHERACLES By fighting with the spirit who was her master.\nADMETUS Then did you contend with Death?\nHERACLES I hid by the tomb and leaped upon him.\nADMETUS But why is she speechless?\nHERACLES You may not hear her voice until she is purified from her\nconsecration to the Lower Gods, and until the third dawn has risen.\nLead her in.\nAnd you, Admetus, show as ever a good man's welcome to your guests.\nFarewell! I go to fulfil the task set me by the King, the son of Sthenelus.\nADMETUS Stay with us, and share our hearth.\nHERACLES That may be hereafter, but now I must be gone in haste.\n(HERACLES departs.)\nADMETUS (gazing after him) Good fortune to you, and come back here!\n(To the CHORUS) In all the city and in the four quarters of Thessaly\nlet there be choruses to rejoice at this good fortune, and let the\naltars smoke with the flesh of oxen in sacrifice! To-day we have changed\nthe past for a better life. I am happy. (He leads ALCESTIS into the\nPalace.)\nCHORUS (singing) Spirits have many shapes,\nMany strange things are performed by the Gods.\nThe expected does not always happen,\nAnd God makes a way for the unexpected.\nSo ends this action.\nTHE END","title":"Alcestis, By Euripides","type":"page"}