ALCESTIS.
* * * *
PERSONS REPRESENTED.
APOLLO.
DEATH.
CHORUS OF PHERŒANS.
ATTENDANTS.
ALCESTIS.
ADMETUS.
EUMELUS.
HERCULES.
PHERES.
* * * * *
THE ARGUMENT.
* * * *
Apollo desired of the Fates that Admetus, who was about to die, might give
a substitute to die for him, that so he might live for a term equal to his
former life; and Alcestis, his wife, gave herself up, while neither of his
parents were willing to die instead of their son. But not long after the
time when this calamity happened, Hercules having arrived, and having
learned from a servant what had befallen Alcestis, went to her tomb, and
having made Death retire, covers the lady with a robe; and requested
Admetus to receive her and keep her for him; and said he had borne her off
as a prize in wrestling; but when he would not, he unveiled her, and
discovered her whom he was lamenting.
* * * * *
ALCESTIS
* * * *
APOLLO.
O mansions of Admetus, wherein I endured to acquiesce in the slave's
table,[1] though a God; for Jove was the cause, by slaying my son
Æsculapius, hurling the lightning against his breast: whereat enraged, I
slay the Cyclops, forgers of Jove's fire; and me my father compelled to
serve for hire with a mortal, as a punishment for these things. But having
come to this land, I tended the herds of him who received me, and have
preserved this house until this day: for being pious I met with a pious
man,[2] the son of Pheres, whom I delivered from dying by deluding the
Fates: but those Goddesses granted me that Admetus should escape the
impending death, could he furnish in his place another dead for the powers
below. But having tried and gone through all his friends, his father and
his aged mother who bore him, he found not, save his wife, one who was
willing to die for him, and view no more the light: who now within the
house is borne in their hands, breathing her last; for on this day is it
destined for her to die, and to depart from life. But I, lest the
pollution[3] come upon me in the house, leave this palace's most dear
abode. But already I behold Death near, priest of the dead, who is about to
bear her down to the mansions of Pluto; but he comes at the right time,
observing this day, in the which it was destined for her to die.
DEATH,[4] APOLLO.
DEA. Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! What dost thou at the palace? why tamest here, Phœbus?
Art thou again at thy deeds of injustice, taking away and putting an end to
the honors of the powers beneath? Did it not suffice thee to stay the death
of Admetus, when thou didst delude the Fates by fraudful artifice?[5] But
now too dost thou keep guard for her, having armed thine hand with thy bow,
who then promised, in order to redeem her husband, herself, the daughter of
Pelias, to die for him?
AP. Fear not, I cleave to justice and honest arguments.
DEA. What business then has your bow, if you cleave to justice?
AP. It is my habit ever to bear it.
DEA. Yes, and without regard to justice to aid this house.
AP. Ay, for I am afflicted at the misfortunes of a man that is dear to
me.
DEA. And wilt thou deprive me of this second dead?
AP. But neither took I him from thee by force.
DEA. How then is he upon earth, and not beneath the ground?
AP. Because he gave in his stead his wife, after whom thou art now come.
DEA. Yes, and will bear her off to the land beneath.
AP. Take her away, for I know not whether I can persuade thee.
DEA. What? to slay him, whom I ought? for this was I commanded.
AP. No: but to cast death upon those about to die.
DEA. Yes, I perceive thy speech, and what thou aim'st at.
AP. Is it possible then for Alcestis to arrive at old age?
DEA. It is not: consider that I too am delighted with my due honors.
AP. Thou canst not, however, take more than one life.
DEA. When the young die I earn the greater glory.
AP. And if she die old, she will be sumptuously entombed.[6]
DEA. Thou layest down the law, Phœbus, in favor of the rich.
AP. How sayest thou? what? hast thou been clever without my perceiving it?
DEA. Those who have means would purchase to die old.
AP. Doth it not then seem good to thee to grant me this favor?
DEA. No in truth; and thou knowest my ways.
AP. Yes, hostile to mortals, and detested by the Gods.
DEA. Thou canst not have all things, which thou oughtest not.
AP. Nevertheless, thou wilt stop, though thou art over-fierce; such a man
will come to the house of Pheres, whom Eurystheus hath sent after the
chariot and its horses,[7] to bring them from the wintry regions of
Thrace, who in sooth, being welcomed in the mansions of Admetus, shall take
away by force this woman from thee; and there will be no obligation to thee
at my hands, but still thou wilt do this, and wilt be hated by me.
DEA. Much though thou talkest, thou wilt gain nothing. This woman then
shall descend to the house of Pluto; and I am advancing upon her, that I
may begin the rites on her with my sword; for sacred is he to the Gods
beneath the earth, the hair of whose head this sword hath consecrated.[8]
CHORUS.
SEMICH. Wherefore in heaven's name is this stillness before the palace? why
is the house of Admetus hushed in silence?
SEMICH. But there is not even one of our friends near, who can tell us
whether we have to deplore the departed queen, or whether Alcestis,
daughter of Pelias, yet living views this light, who has appeared to me and
to all to have been the best wife toward her husband.
CHOR. Hears any one either a wailing, or the beating of hands within the
house, or a lamentation, as though the thing had taken place?[9] There is
not however any one of the servants standing before the gates. Oh would
that thou wouldst appear, O Apollo, amidst the waves of this calamity!
SEMICH. They would not however be silent, were she dead.
SEMICH. For the corse is certainly not gone from the house.
SEMICH. Whence this conjecture? I do not presume this. What is it gives you
confidence?
SEMICH. How could Admetus have made a private funeral of his so excellent
wife?
CHOR. But before the gates I see not the bath of water from the
fountain,[10] as is the custom at the gates of the dead: and in the
vestibule is no shorn hair, which is wont to fall in grief for the dead;
the youthful[11] hand of women for the youthful wife sound not.
SEMICH. And yet this is the appointed day,--
SEMICH. What is this thou sayest?
SEMICH. In the which she must go beneath the earth.
SEMICH. Thou hast touched my soul, hast touched my heart.
SEMICH. When the good are afflicted, he must mourn, who from the beginning
has been accounted good.
CHOR. But there is not whither in the earth any one having sent naval
equipment, or to Lycia, or to the thirsty site of Hammon's temple, can
redeem the unhappy woman's life, for abrupt fate approaches, and I know not
to whom of those that sacrifice at the hearths of the Gods I can go. But
only if the son of Phœbus were viewing with his eyes this light, could she
come, having left the darksome habitations and the gates of Pluto: for he
raised up the dead, before that the stroke of the lightning's fire hurled
by Jove destroyed him. But now what hope of life can I any longer
entertain? For all things have already been done by the king, and at the
altars of all the Gods abound the victims dropping with blood, and no cure
is there of these evils.
CHORUS, FEMALE ATTENDANT.
CHOR. But here comes one of the female attendants from the house, in tears;
what shall I hear has happened? To mourn indeed, if any thing happens to
our lords, is pardonable: but whether the lady be still alive, or whether
she be dead, we would wish to know.
ATT. You may call her both alive and dead.
CHOR. And how can the same woman be both alive and dead?
ATT. Already she is on the verge of death,[12] and breathing her life away.
CHOR. Oh wretched man, being what thyself of what a wife art thou bereft!
ATT. My master knows not this yet, until he suffer.
CHOR. Is there no longer hope that she may save her life?
ATT. No, for the destined day makes its attack upon her.
CHOR. Are not then suitable preparations made for these events?
ATT. Yes, the adornments[13] are ready, wherewith her husband will bury
her.
CHOR. Let her know then that she will die glorious, and by far the best of
women under the sun.
ATT. And how not the best? who will contest it? What must the woman be, who
has surpassed her? and how can any give greater proof of esteeming her
husband, than by being willing to die for him? And these things indeed the
whole city knoweth. But what she did in the house you will marvel when you
hear. For, when she perceived that the destined day was come, she washed
her fair skin with water from the river; and having taken from her closets
of cedar vesture and ornaments, she attired herself becomingly; and
standing before the altar she prayed: "O mistress, since I go beneath the
earth, adoring thee for the last time, I will beseech thee to protect my
orphan children, and to the one join a loving wife, and to the other a
noble husband: nor, as their mother perishes, let my children untimely die,
but happy in their paternal country let them complete a joyous life."--But
all the altars, which are in the house of Admetus, she went to, and
crowned, and prayed, tearing the leaves from off the myrtle boughs,
tearless, without a groan, nor did the approaching evil change the natural
beauty of her skin. And then rushing to her chamber, and her bed, there
indeed she wept and spoke thus: "O bridal bed, whereon I loosed my virgin
zone with this man, for whom I die, farewell! for I hate thee not; but me
alone hast thou lost; for dreading to betray thee, and my husband, I die;
but thee some other woman will possess, more chaste there can not, but
perchance more fortunate."[14]--And falling on it she kissed it; but all
the bed was bathed with the flood that issued from her eyes. But when she
had satiety of much weeping, she goes hastily forward,[15] rushing from the
bed. And ofttimes having left her chamber, she oft returned, and threw
herself upon the bed again. And her children, hanging to the garments of
their mother, wept; but she, taking them in her arms, embraced them, first
one and then the other, as about to die. But all the domestics wept
throughout the house, bewailing their mistress, but she stretched out her
right hand to each, and there was none so mean, whom she addressed not, and
was answered in return. Such are the woes in the house of Admetus. And had
he died indeed, he would have perished; but now that he has escaped death,
he has grief to that degree which he will never forget.
CHOR. Surely Admetus groans at these evils, if he must be deprived of so
excellent a wife.
ATT. Yes, he weeps, holding his dear wife in his hands, and prays her not
to leave him, asking impossibilities; for she wastes away, and is consumed
by sickness, but fainting a wretched burden in his arms, yet still though
but feebly breathing, she fain would glance toward the rays of the sun; as
though never again, but now for the last time she is to view the sun's beam
and his orb. But I will go and announce your presence, for it is by no
means all that are well-wishers to their lords, so as to come kindly to
them in their misfortunes; but you of old are friendly to my master.
SEMICH. O Jove, what means of escape can there in any way be, and what
method to rid us of the fortune which attends my master?
SEMICH. Will any appear? or must I cut my locks, and clothe me even now in
black array of garments?
SEMICH. 'Tis plain, my friends, too plain; but still let us pray to the
Gods, for the power of the Gods is mightiest.
SEMICH. O Apollo, king of healing, find out some remedy for the evils of
Admetus, procure it, O! procure it. For before this also thou didst find
remedy, and now become our deliverer from death, and stop the murderous
Pluto.
SEMICH. Alas! alas! woe! woe! O son of Pheres, how didst thou fare when
thou wert deprived of thy wife?
SEMICH. Alas! alas! these things would even justify self-slaughter, and
there is more, than whereat one might thrust one's neck in the suspending
noose.[16]
SEMICH. For not a dear, but a most dear wife, wilt thou see dead this day.
SEMICH. Behold, behold; lo! she doth come from the house, and her husband
with her. Cry out, O groan, O land of Pheres, for the most excellent woman,
wasting with sickness, departing beneath the earth to the infernal Pluto.
Never will I aver that marriage brings more joy than grief, forming my
conjectures both from former things, and beholding this fortune of the
king; who, when he has lost this most excellent wife, will thenceforward
pass a life not worthy to be called life.[17]
ALCESTIS, ADMETUS, EUMELUS, CHORUS.
ALC. Thou Sun, and thou light of day, and ye heavenly eddies of the
fleeting clouds--
ADM. He beholds[18] thee and me, two unhappy creatures, having done nothing
to the Gods, for which thou shouldst die.
ALC. O earth, and ye roofs of the palace, and thou bridal bed of my native
Iolcos.
ADM. Lift up thyself, unhappy one, desert me not; but entreat the powerful
Gods to pity.
ALC. I see--I see the two-oared boat--and the ferryman of the dead, holding
his hand on the pole--Charon even now calls me--"Why dost thou delay?
haste, thou stoppest us here"--with such words vehement he hastens me.
ADM. Ah me! a bitter voyage this thou speakest of! Oh! unhappy one, how do
we suffer!
ALC. He pulls me, some one pulls me--do you not see?--to the hall of the
dead, the winged Pluto, staring from beneath his black eyebrows--What wilt
thou do?--let me go--what a journey am I most wretched going!
ADM. Mournful to thy friends, and of these especially to me and to thy
children, who have this grief in common.
ALC. Leave off[19] supporting me, leave off now, lay me down, I have no
strength in my feet. Death is near, and darkling night creeps upon mine
eyes--my children, my children, no more your mother is--no more.--Farewell,
my children, long may you view this light!
ADM. Ah me! I hear this sad word, and more than any death to me. Do not by
the Gods have the heart to leave me: do not by those children, whom thou
wilt make orphans: but rise, be of good courage: for, thee dead, I should
no longer be: for on thee we depend both to live, and not to live: for thy
love we adore.
ALC. Admetus, thou seest both thy affairs and mine, in what state they are,
I wish to tell thee, ere I die, what I would have done. I, honoring thee,
and causing thee at the price of my life to view this light, die, it being
in my power not to die, for thee: but though I might have married a husband
from among the Thessalians whom I would, and have lived in a palace blessed
with regal sway, was not willing to live, bereft of thee, with my children
orphans; nor did I spare myself, though possessing the gifts of bloomy
youth, wherein I delighted. And yet thy father and thy mother forsook thee,
though they had well arrived at a point of life, in which they might have
died, and nobly delivered their son, and died with glory: for thou wert
their only one, and there was no hope, when thou wert dead, that they could
have other children.[20] And I should have lived, and thou, the rest of our
time. And thou wouldst not be groaning deprived of thy wife, and wouldst
not have to bring up thy children orphans. But these things indeed, some
one of the Gods hath brought to pass, that they should be thus. Be it
so--but do thou remember to give me a return for this; for never shall I
ask thee for an equal one, (for nothing is more precious than life,) but
just, as thou wilt say: for thou lovest not these children less than I do,
if thou art right-minded; them bring up lords over my house, and bring not
in second marriage a step-mother over these children, who, being a worse
woman than me, through envy will stretch out her hand against thine and my
children. Do not this then, I beseech thee; for a step-mother that is in
second marriage is enemy to the children of the former marriage, no milder
than a viper. And my boy indeed has his father, a great tower of defense;
but thou, O my child, how wilt thou be, brought up during thy virgin years?
Having what consort of thy father's? I fear, lest casting some evil
obloquy on thee, she destroys thy marriage in the bloom of youth.[21] For
neither will thy mother ever preside over thy nuptials, nor strengthen thee
being present, my daughter, at thy travails, where nothing is more kind
than a mother. For I needs must die, and this evil comes upon me not
to-morrow, nor on the third day of the month, but immediately shall I be
numbered among those that are no more. Farewell, and may you be happy; and
thou indeed, my husband, mayst boast, that thou hadst a most excellent
wife, and you, my children, that you were born of a most excellent mother.
CHOR. Be of good cheer; for I fear not to answer for him: he will do this,
if he be not bereft of his senses.
ADM. These things shall be so, they shall be, fear not: since I, when alive
also, possessed thee alone, and when thou art dead, thou shalt be my only
wife, and no Thessalian bride shall address me in the place of thee: there
is not woman who shall, either of so noble a sire, nor otherwise most
exquisite in beauty. But my children are enough; of these I pray the Gods
that I may have the enjoyment; for thee we do not enjoy. But I shall not
have this grief for thee for a year, but as long as my life endures, O
lady, abhorring her indeed that brought me forth, and hating my father; for
they were in word, not in deed, my friends. But thou, giving what was
dearest to thee for my life, hast rescued me. Have I not then reason to
groan deprived of such a wife? But I will put an end to the feasts, and the
meetings of those that drink together, and garland and song, which wont to
dwell in my house. For neither can I any more touch the lyre, nor lift up
my heart to sing to the Libyan flute; for thou hast taken away my joy of
life. But by the cunning hand of artists imaged thy figure shall be lain on
my bridal bed, on which I will fall, and clasping my hands around, calling
on thy name, shall fancy that I hold my dear wife in mine arms, though
holding her not:[22] a cold delight, I ween; but still I may draw off the
weight that sits upon my soul: and in my dreams visiting me, thou mayst
delight me, for a friend is sweet even to behold at night, for whatever
time he may come. But if the tongue of Orpheus and his strain were mine, so
that invoking with hymns the daughter of Ceres or her husband, I could
receive thee from the shades below, I would descend, and neither the dog of
Pluto, nor Charon at his oar, the ferryman of departed spirits, should stay
me before I brought thy life to the light. But there expect me when I die
and prepare a mansion for me, as about to dwell with me. For I will enjoin
these[23] to place me in the same cedar with thee, and to lay my side near
thy side: for not even when dead may I be separated from thee, the only
faithful one to me!
CHOR. And I indeed with thee, as a friend with a friend, will bear this
painful grief for her, for she is worthy.
ALC. My children, ye indeed hear your father saying that he will never
marry another wife to be over you, nor dishonor me.
ADM. And now too, I say this, and will perform it
ALC. For this receive these children from my hand.
ADM. Yes, I receive a dear gift from a dear hand.
ALC. Be thou then a mother to these children in my stead.
ADM. There is much need that I should, when they are deprived of thee.
ALC. O my children, at a time when I ought to live I depart beneath.
ADM. Ah me; what shall I do of thee bereaved!
ALC. Time will soften thy grief: he that is dead is nothing.
ADM. Take me with thee, by the Gods take me beneath.
ALC. Enough are we to go, who die for thee.
ADM. O fate, of what a wife thou deprivest me!
ALC. And lo! my darkening eye is weighed down.
ADM. I am undone then, if thou wilt leave me, my wife.
ALC. As being no more, you may speak of me as nothing.
ADM. Lift up thy face; do not leave thy children.
ALC. Not willingly in sooth, but--farewell, my children.
ADM. Look on them, O! look.
ALC. I am no more.
ADM. What dost thou? dost thou leave us?
ALC. Farewell!
ADM. I am an undone wretch!
CHOR. She is gone, Admetus' wife is no more.
EUM. Alas me, for my state! my mother is gone indeed below; she is no
longer, my father, under the sun; but unhappy leaving me has made my life
an orphan's. For look, look at her eyelid, and her nerveless arms. Hear,
hear, O mother. I beseech thee; I, I now call thee, mother, thy young one
falling on thy mouth--
ADM. Who hears not, neither sees: so that I and you are struck with a heavy
calamity.
EUM. Young and deserted, my father, am I left by my dear mother: O! I that
have suffered indeed dreadful deeds!--and thou hast suffered with me, my
sister. O father, in vain, in vain didst thou marry, nor with her didst
thou arrive at the end of old age, for she perished before, but thou being
gone, mother, the house is undone.
CHOR. Admetus, you must bear this calamity; for in no wise the first, nor
the last of mortals hast thou lost thy dear wife: but learn, that to die is
a debt we must all of us discharge.
ADM. I know it, and this evil hath not come suddenly on me; but knowing it
long ago I was afflicted. But be present, for I will have the corse borne
forth, and while ye stay, chant a hymn to the God below that accepteth not
libations. And all the Thessalians, over whom I reign, I enjoin to share in
the grief for this lady, by shearing their locks with steel, and by
arraying themselves in sable garb. And harness[24] your teams of horses to
your chariots, and cut from your single steeds the manes that fall upon
their necks. And let there be no noise of pipes, nor of the lyre throughout
the city for twelve completed moons. For none other corse more dear shall I
inter, nor one more kind toward me. But she deserves to receive honor from
me, seeing that she alone hath died for me.
CHORUS.
O daughter of Pelias, farewell where thou dwellest in sunless dwelling
within the mansions of Pluto. And let Pluto know, the God with ebon locks,
and the old man, the ferryman of the dead, who sits intent upon his oar and
his rudder, that he is conducting by far the most excellent of women in his
two-oared boat over the lake of Acheron. Oft shall the servants of the
Muses sing of thee, celebrating thee both on the seven-stringed lute on the
mountains, and in hymns unaccompanied by the lyre: in Sparta, when returns
the annual circle in the season of the Carnean month,[25] when the moon is
up the whole night long; and in splendid[26] and happy Athens. Such a song
hast thou left by thy death to the minstrels of melodies. Would that it
rested with me, and that I could waft thee to the light from the mansions
of Pluto, and from Cocytus' streams, by the oar of that infernal river. For
thou, O unexampled, O dear among women, thou didst dare to receive thy
husband from the realms below in exchange for thine own life. Light may the
earth from above fall upon thee, lady! and if thy husband chooses any other
alliance, surely he will be much detested by me and by thy children. When
his mother was not willing for him to hide her body in the ground, nor his
aged father, but these two wretches, having hoary locks, dared not to
rescue him they brought forth, yet thou in the vigor of youth didst depart,
having died for thy husband. May it be mine to meet with another[27] such a
dear wife; for rare in life is such a portion, for surely she would live
with me forever without once causing pain.
HERCULES, CHORUS.
HER. Strangers, inhabitants of the land of Pheres, can I find Admetus
within the palace?
CHOR. The son of Pheres is within the palace, O Hercules. But tell me, what
purpose sends thee to the land of the Thessalians, so that thou comest to
this city of Pheres?
HER. I am performing a certain labor for the Tirynthian Eurystheus.
CHOR. And whither goest thou? on what wandering expedition art bound?
HER. After the four chariot-steeds of Diomed the Thracian.
CHOR. How wilt thou be able? Art thou ignorant of this host?
HER. I am ignorant; I have not yet been to the land of the Bistonians.
CHOR. Thou canst not be lord of these steeds without battle.
HER. But neither is it possible for me to renounce the labors set me.
CHOR. Thou wilt come then having slain, or being slain wilt remain there.
HER. Not the first contest this that I shall run.
CHOR. But what advance will you have made, when you have overcome their
master?
HER. I will drive away the horses to king Eurystheus.
CHOR. 'Tis no easy matter to put the bit in their jaws.
HER. 'Tis, except they breathe fire from their nostrils.
CHOR. But they tear men piecemeal with their devouring jaws.
HER. The provender of mountain beasts, not horses, you are speaking of.
CHOR. Their stalls thou mayst behold with blood bestained.
HER. Son of what sire does their owner boast to be?
CHOR. Of Mars, prince[28] of the Thracian target, rich with gold.
HER. And this labor, thou talkest of, is one my fate compels me to (for it
is ever hard and tends to steeps); if I must join in battle with the
children whom Mars begat, first indeed with Lycaon, and again with Cycnus,
and I come to this third combat, about to engage with the horses and their
master. But none there is, who shall ever see the son of Alcmena fearing
the hand of his enemies.
CHOR. And lo! hither comes the very man Admetus, lord of this land, from
out of the palace.
ADMETUS, HERCULES, CHORUS.
ADM. Hail! O son of Jove, and of the blood of Perseus.
HER. Admetus, hail thou too, king of the Thessalians!
ADM. I would I could receive this salutation; but I know that thou art
well disposed toward me.
HER. Wherefore art thou conspicuous with thy locks shorn for grief?
ADM. I am about to bury a certain corse this day.
HER. May the God avert calamity from thy children!
ADM. My children whom I begat, live in the house.
HER. Thy father however is of full age, if he is gone.
ADM. Both he lives, and she who bore me, Hercules.
HER. Surely your wife Alcestis is not dead?
ADM. There are two accounts which I may tell of her.
HER. Speakest thou of her as dead or as alive?
ADM. She both is, and is no more, and she grieves me.
HER. I know nothing more; for thou speakest things obscure.
ADM. Knowest thou not the fate which it was doomed for her to meet with?
HER. I know that she took upon herself to die for thee.
ADM. How then is she any more, if that she promised this?
HER. Ah! do not weep for thy wife before the time; wait till this happens.
ADM. He that is about to die is dead, and he that is dead is no more.
HER. The being and the not being is considered a different thing.
ADM. You judge in this way, Hercules, but I in that.
HER. Why then dost weep? Who is he of thy friends that is dead?
ADM. A woman, a woman we were lately mentioning.
HER. A stranger by blood, or any by birth allied to thee?
ADM. A stranger; but on other account dear to this house.
HER. How then died she in thine house?
ADM. Her father dead, she lived an orphan here.
HER. Alas! Would that I had found thee, Admetus, not mourning!
ADM. As about to do what then, dost thou make use of these words?
HER. I will go to some other hearth of those who will receive a guest.
ADM. It must not be, O king: let not so great an evil happen!
HER. Troublesome is a guest if he come to mourners.
ADM. The dead are dead--but go into the house.
HER. 'Tis base however to feast with weeping friends.
ADM. The guest-chamber, whither we will lead thee, is apart.
HER. Let me go, and I will owe you ten thousand thanks.
ADM. It must not be that thou go to the hearth of another man. Lead on
thou, having thrown open the guest-chamber that is separate from the house:
and tell them that have the management, that there be plenty of meats; and
shut the gates in the middle of the hall: it is not meet that feasting
guests should hear groans, nor should they be made sad.
CHOR. What are you doing? when so great a calamity is before you, Admetus,
hast thou the heart to receive guests? wherefore art thou foolish?
ADM. But if I had driven him who came my guest from my house, and from the
city, would you have praised me rather? No in sooth, since my calamity had
been no whit the less, but I the more inhospitable: and in addition to my
evils, there had been this other evil, that mine should be called the
stranger-hating house. But I myself find this man a most excellent host,
whenever I go to the thirsty land of Argos.
CHOR. How then didst thou hide thy present fate, when a friend, as thou
thyself sayest, came?
ADM. He never would have been willing to enter the house if he had known
aught of my sufferings. And to him[29] indeed, I ween, acting thus, I
appear not to be wise, nor will he praise me; but my house knows not to
drive away, nor to dishonor guests.
CHORUS.
O greatly hospitable and ever liberal house of this man, thee even the
Pythian Apollo, master of the lyre, deigned to inhabit, and endured to
become a shepherd in thine abodes, through the sloping hills piping to thy
flocks his pastoral nuptial hymns. And there were wont to feed with them,
through delight of his lays, both the spotted lynxes, and the bloody troop
of lions[30] came having left the forest of Othrys; disported too around
thy cithern, Phœbus, the dappled fawn, advancing with light pastern beyond
the lofty-feathered pines, joying in the gladdening strain. Wherefore he
dwelleth in a home most rich in flocks by the fair-flowing lake of Bœbe;
and to the tillage of his fields, and the extent of his plains, toward that
dusky part of the heavens, where the sun stays his horses, makes the
clime of the Molossians the limit, and holds dominion as far as the
portless shore of the Ægean Sea at Pelion. And now having thrown open his
house he hath received his guest with moistened eyelid, weeping over the
corse of his dear wife, who but now died in the palace: for a noble
disposition is prone to reverence [of the guest]. But in the good there is
all manner of wisdom. And confidence is seated on my soul that the man who
reveres the Gods will fare prosperously.
ADMETUS, CHORUS.
ADM. Ye men of Pheræ that are kindly present, my servants indeed bear
aloft[31] the corse, having every thing fit for the tomb, and for the pyre.
But do you, as is the custom, salute[32] the dead going forth on her last
journey.
CHOR. And lo! I see thy father advancing with his aged foot, and attendants
bearing in their hands adornment for thy wife, due honors of those beneath.
PHERES, ADMETUS, CHORUS.
PHE. I am at present sympathizing in thy misfortunes, my son: for thou hast
lost (no one will deny) a good and a chaste wife; but these things indeed
thou must bear, though hard to be borne. But receive this adornment, and
let it go with her beneath the earth: Her body 'tis right to honor, who in
sooth died to save thy life, my son, and made me to be not childless, nor
suffered me to waste away deprived of thee in an old age of misery. But she
has made most illustrious the life of all women, having dared this noble
action. O thou that hast preserved my son here, and hast raised us up who
were falling, farewell,[33] and may it be well with thee even in the
mansions of Pluto! I affirm that such marriages are profitable to men, or
that it is not meet to marry.
ADM. Neither hast thou come bidden of me to this funeral, nor do I count
thy presence among things acceptable. But she here never shall put on thy
decorations; for in no wise shall she be buried indebted to what thou hast.
Then oughtest thou to have grieved with me, when I was in danger of
perishing.[34] But dost thou, who stoodest aloof, and permittedst another,
a young person, thyself being old, to die, weep over this dead body? Thou
wert not then really the father of me, nor did she, who says she bore me,
and is called my mother, bear me; but born of slavish blood I was secretly
put under the breast of thy wife. Thou showedst when thou camest to the
test, who thou art; and I deem that I am not thy son. Or else surely thou
exceedest all in nothingness of soul, who being of the age thou art, and
having come to the goal of life, neither hadst the will nor the courage to
die for thy son; but sufferedst this stranger lady, whom alone I might
justly have considered both mother and father. And yet thou mightst have
run this race for glory, hadst thou died for thy son. But at any rate the
remainder of the time thou hadst to live was short: and I should have lived
and she the rest of our days, and I should not, bereft of her, be groaning
at my miseries. And in sooth thou didst receive as many things as a happy
man should receive; thou passedst the vigor of thine age indeed in
sovereign sway, but I was thy son to succeed thee in this palace, so that
thou wert not about to die childless and leave a desolate house for others
to plunder. Thou canst not however say of me, that I gave thee up to die,
dishonoring thine old age, whereas I was particularly respectful toward
thee; and for this behavior both thou, and she that bare me, have made me
such return. Wherefore you have no more time to lose[35] in getting
children, who will succor thee in thine old age, and deck thee when dead,
and lay out thy corse; for I will not bury thee with this mine hand; for I
in sooth died, as far as in thee lay; but if, having met with, another
deliverer, I view the light, I say that I am both his child, and the
friendly comforter of his old age. In vain then do old men pray to be dead,
complaining of age, and the long time of life: but if death come near, not
one is willing to die, and old age is no longer burdensome to them.[36]
CHOR. Desist, for the present calamity is sufficient; and do not, O son,
provoke thy father's mind.
PHE. O son, whom dost thou presume thou art gibing with thy reproaches, a
Lydian or a Phrygian bought with thy money?[37] Knowest thou not that I am
a Thessalian, and born from a Thessalian father, truly free? Thou art too
insolent, and casting the impetuous words of youth against us, shalt not
having cast them thus depart. But I begat thee the lord of my house, and
brought thee up, but I am not thy debtor to die for thee; for I received no
paternal law like this, nor Grecian law, that fathers should die for their
children; for for thyself thou wert born, whether unfortunate or fortunate,
but what from us thou oughtest to have, thou hast. Thou rulest indeed over
many, and I will leave thee a large demesne of lands, for these I received
from my father. In what then have I injured thee? Of what do I deprive
thee? Thou joyest to see the light, and dost think thy father does not
joy?[38] Surely I count the time we must spend beneath long, and life is
short, but still sweet. Thou too didst shamelessly fight off from dying,
and livest, having passed over thy destined fate, by slaying her; then dost
thou talk of my nothingness of soul, O most vile one, when thou art
surpassed by a woman who died for thee, the handsome youth? But thou hast
made a clever discovery, so that thou mayst never die, if thou wilt
persuade the wife that is thine from time to time to die for thee: and then
reproachest thou thy friends who are not willing to do this, thyself being
a coward? Hold thy peace, and consider, if thou lovest thy life, that all
love theirs; but if thou shalt speak evil against us, thou shalt hear many
reproaches and not false ones.
CHOR. Too many evil things have been spoken both now and before, but cease,
old man, from reviling thy son.
ADM. Speak, for I have spoken; but if thou art grieved at hearing the
truth, thou shouldst not err against me.
PHE. But had I died for thee, I had erred more.
ADM. What? is it the same thing for a man in his prime, and for an old man
to die?
PHE. We ought to live with one life, not with two.
ADM. Mayst thou then live a longer time than Jove!
PHE. Dost curse thy parents, having met with no injustice?
ADM. I said it, for I perceived thou lovedst a long life.
PHE. But art not thou bearing forth this corse instead of thyself?
ADM. A proof this, O most vile one, of thy nothingness of soul.
PHE. She died not by us at least; thou wilt not say this.
ADM. Alas! Oh that you may ever come to need my aid!
PHE. Wed many wives, that more may die.
ADM. This is a reproach to thyself, for thou wert not willing to die.
PHE. Sweet is this light of the God, sweet is it.
ADM. Base is thy spirit and not that of men.
PHE. Thou dost not laugh as carrying an aged corse.
ADM. Thou wilt surely however die inglorious, when thou diest.
PHE. To bear an evil report is no matter to me when dead.
ADM. Alas! alas! how full of shamelessness is old age!
PHE. She was not shameless: her you found mad.
ADM. Begone, and suffer me to bury this dead.
PHE. I will depart; but you will bury her, yourself being her murderer. But
you will render satisfaction to your wife's relatives yet: or surely
Acastus no longer ranks among men, if he shall not revenge the blood of his
sister.
ADM. Get thee gone, then, thou and thy wife; childless, thy child yet
living, as ye deserve, grow old; for ye no more come into the same house
with me: and if it were necessary for me to renounce by heralds thy
paternal hearth, I would renounce it. But let us (for the evil before us
must be borne) proceed, that we may place the corse upon the funeral pyre.
CHOR. O! O! unhappy because of thy bold deed, O noble, and by far most
excellent, farewell! may both Mercury[39] that dwells beneath, and Pluto,
kindly receive thee; but if there too any distinction is shown to the good,
partaking of this mayst thou sit by the bride of Pluto.
SERVANT.
I have now known many guests, and from all parts of the earth that have
come to the house of Admetus, to whom I have spread the feast, but never
yet did I receive into this house a worse one than this stranger. Who, in
the first place, indeed, though he saw my master in affliction, came in,
and prevailed upon himself to pass the gates. And then not at all in a
modest manner received he the entertainment that there happened to be, when
he heard of the calamity: but if we did not bring any thing, he hurried us
to bring it. And having taken in his hands the cup wreathed with ivy,[40]
he quaffs the neat wine of the purple mother, until the fumes of the liquor
coming upon him inflamed him; and he crowns his head with branches of
myrtles howling discordantly; and there were two strains to hear; for he
was singing, not caring at all for the afflictions of Admetus, but we the
domestics, were bewailing our mistress, and we showed not that we were
weeping to the guest, for thus Admetus commanded. And now indeed I am
performing the offices of hospitality to the stranger in the house, some
deceitful thief and robber. But she is gone from the house, nor did I
follow, nor stretched out my hand in lamentation for my mistress, who was a
mother to me, and to all the domestics, for she saved us from ten thousand
ills, softening the anger of her husband. Do I not then justly hate this
stranger, who is come in our miseries?
HERCULES, SERVANT.
HER. Ho there! why dost thou look so grave and thoughtful? The servant
ought not to be of woeful countenance before guests, but should receive
them with an affable mind. But thou, though thou seest a companion of thy
lord present, receivest him with a morose and clouded countenance, fixing
thy attention on a calamity that thou hast nothing to do with. Come hither,
that thou mayst become more wise. Knowest thou mortal affairs, of what
nature they are? I think not; from whence should you? but hear me. Death is
a debt that all mortals must pay: and there is not of them one, who knows
whether he shall live the coming morrow: for what depends on fortune is
uncertain how it will turn out, and is not to be learned, neither is it
detected by art. Having heard these things then, and learned them from me,
make thyself merry, drink, and think the life allowed from day to day thine
own, but the rest Fortune's. And honor also Venus, the most sweet of
deities to mortals, for she is a kind deity. But let go these other things,
and obey my words, if I appear to speak rightly: I think so indeed. Wilt
thou not then leave off thy excessive grief, and drink with me, crowned
with garlands, having thrown open these gates? And well know I that the
trickling of the cup falling down thy throat will change thee from thy
present cloudy and pent state of mind. But we who are mortals should think
as mortals. Since to all the morose, indeed, and to those of sad
countenance, if they take me as judge at least, life is not truly life, but
misery.
SERV. I know this; but now we are in circumstances not such as are fit for
revel and mirth.
HER. The lady that is dead is a stranger; grieve not too much, for the
lords of this house live.
SERV. What live! knowest thou not the misery within the house?
HER. Unless thy lord hath told me any thing falsely.
SERV. He is too, too hospitable.
HER. Is it unmeet that I should be well treated, because a stranger is
dead?
SERV. Surely however she was very near.
HER. Has he forborne to tell me any calamity that there is?
SERV. Depart and farewell; we have a care for the evils of our lords.
HER. This speech is the beginning of no foreign loss.
SERV. For I should not, had it been foreign, have been grieved at seeing
thee reveling.
HER. What! have I received so great an injury from mine host?
SERV. Thou camest not in a fit time for the house to receive thee, for
there is grief to us, and thou seest that we are shorn, and our black
garments.
HER. But who is it that is dead? Has either any of his children died, or
his aged father?
SERV. The wife indeed of Admetus is dead, O stranger.
HER. What sayst thou? and yet did ye receive me?
SERV. Yes, for he had too much respect to turn thee from his house.
HER. O unhappy man, what a wife hast thou lost!
SERV. We all are lost, not she alone.
HER. But I did perceive it indeed, when I saw his eye streaming with tears,
and his shorn hair, and his countenance; but he persuaded me, saying, that
he was conducting the funeral of a stranger to the tomb: but spite of my
inclination having passed over these gates, I drank in the house of the
hospitable man, while he was in this case, and reveled, crowned as to my
head with garlands. But 'twas thine to tell me not to do it, when such an
evil was upon the house. Where is he burying her? whither going can I find
her?
SERV. By the straight road that leads to Larissa, thou wilt see the
polished tomb beyond the suburbs.
HERCULES.
O my much-daring heart and my soul, now show what manner of son the
Tirynthian Alcmena, daughter of Electryon, bare thee to Jove. For I must
rescue the woman lately dead, Alcestis, and place her again in this house,
and perform this service for Admetus. And going I will lay wait for the
sable-vested king of the departed, Death, and I think that I shall find him
drinking of the libations near the tomb. And if having taken him by lying
in wait, rushing from my ambush, I shall seize hold of him, and make a
circle around him with mine arms, there is not who shall take him away
panting as to his sides, until he release me the woman. But if however I
fail of this capture, and he come not to the clottered mass of blood, I
will go a journey beneath to the sunless mansions of Cora and her king, and
will prefer my request; and I trust that I shall bring up Alcestis, so as
to place her in the hands of that host, who received me into his house, nor
drove me away, although struck with a heavy calamity, but concealed it,
noble as he was, having respect unto me. Who of the Thessalians is more
hospitable than he? Who that dwelleth in Greece? Wherefore he shall not
say, that he did a service to a worthless man, himself being noble.
ADMETUS, CHORUS.
ADM. Alas! alas! O hateful approach, and hateful prospect of this widowed
house. Oh me! Alas! alas! whither can I go! where rest! what can I say! and
what not! would that I could perish! Surely my mother brought me forth to
heavy fortune. I count the dead happy, them I long for! those houses I
desire to dwell in: for neither delight I in viewing the sunbeams, nor
treading with my foot upon the earth; of such a hostage has death robbed
me, and delivered up to Pluto.
CHOR. Advance, advance; go into the recesses of the house.
(ADM. Oh! Oh!)
Thou hast suffered things that demand groans.
(ADM. Alas! alas!)
Thou hast gone through grief, I well know.
(ADM. Woe! Woe!)
Thou nothing aidest her that is beneath.
(ADM. Ah me! me!)
Never to see thy dear wife's face again before thee, is severe.
ADM. Thou hast made mention of that which ulcerated my soul; for what can
be greater ill to man than to lose his faithful wife? Would that I never
had married and dwelt with her in the palace. But I judge happy those, who
are unmarried and childless; for theirs is one only life, for this to
grieve is a moderate burden: but to behold the diseases of children, and
the bridal bed wasted by death, is not supportable, when it were in one's
power to be without children and unmarried the whole of life.
CHOR. Fate, fate hard to be struggled with hath come.
(ADM. Oh! Oh!)
But puttest thou no bound to thy sorrows?
(ADM. Alas! alas!)
Heavy are they to bear, but still
(ADM. Woe! woe!)
endure, thou art not the first man that hast lost
(ADM. Ah me! me!)
thy wife; but calamity appearing afflicts different men in different
shapes.
ADM. O lasting griefs, and sorrows for our friends beneath the earth!--Why
did you hinder me from throwing myself[41] into her hallowed grave, and
from lying dead with her, by far the most excellent woman? And Pluto would
have retained instead of one, two most faithful souls having together
passed over the infernal lake.
CHOR. I had a certain kinsman, whose son worthy to be lamented, an only
child, died in his house; but nevertheless he bore his calamity with
moderation, being bereft of child, though now hastening to gray hairs, and
advanced in life.
ADM. O house, how can I enter in? and how dwell in thee now my fortune has
undergone this change? Ah me! for there is great difference between: then
indeed with Pelian torches, and with bridal songs I entered in, bearing the
hand of my dear wife, and there followed a loud-shouting revelry hailing
happy both her that is dead and me, inasmuch as being noble, and born of
illustrious parents both, we were united together: but now the groan
instead of hymeneals, and black array instead of white robes, usher me in
to my deserted couch.
CHOR. This grief came quick on happy fortune to thee unschooled in evil:
but thou hast saved thy life. Thy wife is dead, she left her love behind:
what new thing this? Death has ere this destroyed many wives.
ADM. My friends, I deem the fortune of my wife more happy than mine own,
even although these things appear not so. For her indeed no grief shall
ever touch, and she hath with glory ceased from many toils. But I, who
ought not to have lived, though I have scaped destiny, shall pass a bitter
life; I but now perceive. For how can I bear the entering into this house?
Whom speaking to, or by whom addressed,[42] can I have joy in entering?
Whither shall I turn me? For the solitude within will drive me forth, when
I see the place where my wife used to lie, empty, and the seat whereon she
used to sit, and the floor throughout the house all dirty, and when my
children falling about my knees weep their mother, and they lament their
mistress, thinking what a lady they have lost from out of the house. Such
things within the house; but abroad the nuptials of the Thessalians and the
assemblies full of women will torture me: for I shall not be able to look
on the companions of my wife. But whoever is mine enemy will say thus of
me: "See that man, who basely lives, who dared not to die, but giving in
his stead her, whom he married, escaped Hades, (and then does he seem to be
a man?) and hates his parents, himself not willing to die."--Such report
shall I have in addition to my woes; why then is it the more honorable
course for me to live, my friends, having an evil character and an evil
fortune?
CHOR. I too have both been borne aloft through song, and having very much
handled arguments have found nothing more powerful than Necessity: nor is
there any cure in the Thracian tablets which Orpheus[43] wrote, nor among
those medicines, which Phœbus gave the sons of Æsculapius, dispensing[44]
them to wretched mortals. But neither to the altars nor to the image of
this Goddess alone, is it lawful to approach, she hears not victims. Do
not, O revered one, come on me more severe, than hitherto in my life. For
Jove, whatever he have assented to, with thee brings this to pass. Thou too
perforce subduest the iron among the Chalybi; nor has thy rugged spirit any
remorse.
And thee, Admetus, the Goddess hath seized in the inevitable grasp of her
hand; but bear it, for thou wilt never by weeping bring back on earth the
dead from beneath. Even the sons of the Gods by stealth begotten perish in
death. Dear she was while she was with us, and dear even now when dead. But
thou didst join to thy bed[45] the noblest wife of all women. Nor let the
tomb of thy wife be accounted as the mound over the dead that perish, but
let it be honored equally with the Gods, a thing for travelers to
adore:[46] and some one, going out of his direct road, shall say thus: "She
in olden time died for her husband, but now she is a blest divinity: Hail,
O adored one, and be propitious!" Such words will be addressed to her.--And
lo! here comes, as it seems, the son of Alcmena to thy house, Admetus.
HERCULES, ADMETUS, CHORUS.
HER. One should speak freely to a friend, Admetus, and, not in silence keep
within our bosoms what we blame. Now I thought myself worthy as a friend to
stand near thy calamities, and to search them out;[47] but thou didst not
tell me that it was thy wife's corse that demanded thy attention; but didst
receive me in thy house, as though occupied in grief for one not thine. And
I crowned my head and poured out to the Gods libations in thy house which
had suffered this calamity. And I do blame thee, I blame thee, having met
with this treatment! not that I wish to grieve thee in thy miseries. But
wherefore I am come, having turned back again, I will tell thee. Receive
and take care of this woman for me, until I come hither driving the
Thracian mares, having slain the king of the Bistonians. But if I meet with
what I pray I may not meet with, (for may I return!) I give thee her as an
attendant of thy palace. But with much toil came she into my hands; for I
find some who had proposed a public contest for wrestlers, worthy of my
labors, from whence I bear off her, having received her as the prize of my
victory; for those who conquered in the lighter exercises had to receive
horses, but those again who conquered in the greater, the boxing and the
wrestling, cattle, and a woman was added to these; but in me, who happened
to be there, it had been base to neglect this glorious gain. But, as I
said, the woman ought to be a care to you, for I am come not having
obtained her by stealth, but with labor; but at some time or other thou too
wilt perhaps commend me for it.
ADM. By no means slighting thee, nor considering thee among mine enemies,
did I conceal from thee the unhappy fate of my wife; but this had been a
grief added to grief, if thou hadst gone to the house of another host: but
it was sufficient for me to weep my own calamity. But the woman, if it is
in any way possible, I beseech thee, O king, bid some one of the
Thessalians, who has not suffered what I have, to take care of (but thou
hast many friends among the Pheræans) lest thou remind me of my
misfortunes. I can not, beholding her in the house, refrain from weeping;
add not a sickness to me already sick; for I am enough weighed down with
misery. Where besides in the house can a youthful woman be maintained? for
she is youthful, as she evinces by her garb and her attire; shall she then
live in the men's apartment? And how will she be undefiled, living among
young men? A man in his vigor, Hercules, it is no easy thing to restrain;
but I have a care for thee. Or can I maintain her, having made her enter
the chamber of her that is dead? And how can I introduce her into her bed?
I fear a double accusation, both from the citizens, lest any should convict
me of having betrayed my benefactress, and lying in the bed of another
girl; and I ought to have much regard toward the dead (and she deserves my
respect). But thou, O lady, whoever thou art, know that thou hast the same
size of person with Alcestis, and art like her in figure. Ah me! take by
the Gods this woman from mine eyes, lest you destroy me already destroyed.
For I think, when I look upon her, that I behold my wife; and it agitates
my heart, and from mine eyes the streams break forth; O unhappy I, how
lately did I begin to taste this bitter grief!
CHOR. I can not indeed speak well of thy fortune; but it behooves thee,
whatever thou art, to bear with firmness the dispensation of the Gods.
HER. Oh would that I had such power as to bring thy wife to the light from
the infernal mansions, and to do this service for thee!
ADM. Well know I that thou hast the will: but how can this be? It is not
possible for the dead to come into the light.
HER. Do not, I pray, go beyond all bound, but bear it decently,
ADM. Tis easier to exhort, than suffering to endure.
HER. But what advantage can you gain if you wish to groan forever?
ADM. I know that too myself; but a certain love impels me.
HER. For to love one that is dead draws the tear.
ADM. She hath destroyed me, and yet more than my words express.
HER. Thou hast lost an excellent wife; who will deny it?
ADM. Ay, so that I am no longer delighted with life.
HER. Time will soften the evil, but now it is yet in its vigor[48] on thee.
ADM. Time thou mayst say, if to die be time.
HER. A wife will bid it cease, and the desire of a new marriage.
ADM. Hold thy peace--What saidst thou? I could not have supposed it.
HER. But why? what, wilt not marry, but pass a widowed life alone?
ADM. There is no woman that shall lie with me.
HER. Dost thou think that thou art in aught benefiting her that is dead?
ADM. Her, wherever she is, I am bound to honor.
HER. I praise you indeed, I praise you; but you incur the charge of folly.
ADM. Praise me, or praise me not; for you shall never call me bridegroom.
HER. I do praise thee, because thou art a faithful friend to thy wife.
ADM. May I die, when I forsake her, although she is not!
HER. Receive then this noble woman into thine house.
ADM. Do not, I beseech thee by thy father Jove.
HER. And yet you will be acting wrong, if you do not this.
ADM. Yes, and if I do it, I shall have my heart gnawed with sorrow.
HER. Be prevailed upon: perhaps this favor may be proved a duty.
ADM. Ah! would that you had never borne her off from the contest!
HER. Yet with me conquering thou'rt victorious too.
ADM. Thou hast well spoken; but let the woman depart.
HER. She shall depart, if it is needful; but first see whether it be
needful.
ADM. It is needful, if thou at least dost not mean to make me angry.
HER. I too have this desire, for I know somewhat.
ADM. Conquer then. Thou dost not however do things pleasing to me.
HER. But some time or other thou wilt praise me; only be persuaded.
ADM. Lead her in, if I must receive her in my house.
HER. I will not deliver up the woman into the charge of the servants.
ADM. But do thou thyself lead her into the house if it seems fit.
HER. I then will give her into thine hands.
ADM. I will not touch her; but she is at liberty to enter the house.
HER. I trust her to thy right hand alone.
ADM. O king, thou compellest me to do this against my will.
HER. Dare to stretch out thy hand and touch the stranger.
ADM. And in truth I stretch it out, as I would to the Gorgon with her
severed head.[49]
HER. Have you her?
ADM. I have.
HER. Then keep her fast; and some time or other thou wilt say that the son
of Jove is a generous guest. But look on her, whether she seems aught to
resemble thy wife; and being blest leave off from thy grief.
ADM. O Gods, what shall I say? An unexpected wonder this! Do I truly see
here my wife, or does the mocking joy of the Deity strike me from my
senses?
HER. It is not so; but thou beholdest here thy wife.
ADM. Yet see, whether this be not a phantom from the realms beneath.
HER. Thou hast not made thine host an invoker of spirits.
ADM. But do I behold my wife, whom I buried?
HER. Be well assured thou dost; but I wonder not at thy disbelief of thy
fortune.
ADM. May I touch her, may I speak to her as my living wife?[50]
HER. Speak to her; for thou hast all that thou desirest.
ADM. O face and person of my dearest wife, have I thee beyond my hopes,
when I thought never to see thee more?
HER. Thou hast: but take care there be no envy of the Gods.
ADM. O noble son of the most powerful Jove, mayst thou be blest, and may
thy father, who begot thee, protect thee, for thou alone hast restored me!
How didst thou bring her from beneath into this light!
HER. Having fought a battle with the prince of those beneath.
ADM. Where dost thou say thou didst have this conflict with Death!
HER. At the tomb itself, having seized him from ambush with my hands.
ADM. But why, I pray, does this woman stand here speechless?
HER. It is not yet allowed thee to hear her address thee, before she is
unbound from her consecrations[51] to the Gods beneath, and the third day
come. But lead her in, and as thou oughtest, henceforward, Admetus,
continue in thy piety with respect to strangers. And farewell! But I will
go and perform the task that is before me for the imperial son of
Sthenelus.
ADM. Stay with us, and be a companion of our hearth.
HER. This shall be some time hence, but now I must haste.
ADM. But mayst thou be prosperous, and return on thy journey back. But to
the citizens, and to all the tetrarchy I issue my commands, that they
institute dances in honor of these happy events, and make the altars
odorous with their sacrifices of oxen that accompany their vows. For now
are we placed in a better state of life than the former one: for I will not
deny that I am happy.
CHOR. Many are the shapes of the things the deities direct, and many things
the Gods perform contrary to our expectations. And those things which we
looked for are not accomplished; but the God hath brought to pass things
not looked for. Such hath been the event of this affair.
* * * * *
NOTES ON ALCESTIS
[1] Lactant. i. 10. "Quid Apollo? Nonne ... turpissime gregem pavit
alienum?" B.
[2] Hygin. Fab. li. "Apollo ab eo in servitutem liberaliter acceptus." B.
[3] Cf. Hippol. 1437. B.
[4] No one will, I believe, object to this translation of ΘΑΝΑΤΟΣ; it seems
rather a matter of surprise that Potter has kept the Latin ORCUS, a name
clearly substituted as the nearest to ΘΑΝΑΤΟΣ of the masculine gender.
[5] Cf. Æsch. Eum. 723 sqq. B.
[6] It was customary to bury those, who died advanced in years, with
greater magnificence than young persons.
[7] The horses of Diomed, king of Thrace. The construction is, Ευρυσθεως
πεμψαντος [αυτον meta hippeion ochêma [axonta] ek topôn dyschei merôn
Thrêikês]. MONK.
[8] On this custom, see Monk, and Lomeier de Lustrationibus § xxviii. B.
[9] Perhaps, "as though all were over," B.
[10] Casaubon on Theophr. § 16, observes that it was customary to place a
large vessel filled with lustral water before the doors of a house during
the time the corpse was lying out, with which every one who came out
sprinkled himself. See also Monk's note, Kirchmann de Funeribus, iii. 9.
The same custom was observed on returning from the funeral. See Pollux,
viii. 7. p. 391, ed. Seber. B.
[11] See Dindorf. B.
[12] Potterus, Arch. Gr. mortuos a Græcis προνωπεις vocari tradit, quod
solebant ex penitiore ædium parte produci, ac in vestibulo, i.e.
προνωπιωι collocari: atque hunc locum adducit, sed frustra, ut opinor. Non
enim mortua jam erat, nec producta, sed, ut recte hanc vocem
interpretatur schol. εις θανατον προνενευκυια, i.e. morti propinqua.
Proprie προνωπης is dicitur, qui corpore prono ad terram fertur, ut
Æschyl. Agam. 242. Inde, quia moribundi virium defectu terram petere
solent, ad hos designandos translatum est. KUINOEL.
[13] The old word "dizening" is perhaps the most literal translation of
κοσμος, which, however, here means the whole preparations for the funeral.
Something like it is implied in Hamlet, v. 1.
... her virgin rites,
Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home
Of bell and burial. B.
[14] Aristophanes is almost too bad in his burlesque, Equit. 1251. σε δ'
αλλος τις λαβων κεκτησεται, κλεπτης μεν ουκ αν μαλλον, ευτυχης δ' ‛ισως. B.
[15] Some would translate προνωπης in the same manner as in verse 144.
[16] Conf. Ter.: Phorm. iv. 4, 5. Opera tua ad restim mihi quidem res
rediit planissume.
[17] Perhaps it is unnecessary to remark, that αβιωτον agrees with βιον
implied in βιοτευσει.
[18] ‛οραι scilicet ‛ηλιος. MONK.
[19] Cf. Hippol. 1372. B.
[20] It must be remembered that to survive one's children was considered
the greatest of misfortunes. Cf. Plaut. Mil. Glor. l. 1. "Ita ut tuum vis
unicum gnatum tuæ Superesse vitæ, sospitem et superstitem." B.
[21] Kuinoel carries on the interrogation to γαμους, and Buchanan has
translated it according to this punctuation. Monk compares Iliad, p. 95;
μηπως με περιστελωσ' ‛ενα πολλοι.
[22] Compare my note on Æsch. Ag. 414 sqq. B.
[23] These, my children.
[24] Reiske proposes to read τεθριππα δε ζευγη τε και--And both from your
chariot teams, and from your single horses cut the manes.
[25] This festival was celebrated in honor of Apollo at Sparta, from the
seventh to the sixteenth day of the month Carneus. See Monk. B.
[26] On λιπαραις Αθαναις, see Monk. B.
[27] Literally, the duplicate of such a wife.
[28] αναξ πελτης, so αναξ κωπης in Æsch. Pers. 384, of a rower. Wakefield
compares Ovid's Clypei dominus septemplicis Ajax. MONK.
[29] Heath and Markland take τωι for τινι.
[30] Cf. Theocrit. Id. i. 71 sqq. of Daphnis, τηνον μεν θωες, τηνον λυκοι
ωρυσαντο, Τηνον χοι 'κ δρυμοιο λεων ανεκλαυσε θανοντα ... πολλαι μεν παρ
ποσσι βοες, πολλοι δε τε ταυροι, πολλαι δ' αυ δαμαλαι και πορτιες ωδυραντο.
Virg. Ecl. v. 27 sqq. Calpurnius, Ecl. ii. 18. Nemesianus, Ecl. i. 74 sqq.;
ii. 32. B.
[31] αρδην γινεται απο του αιρειν. δηλοι δε το φοραδην. Schol.
[32] Cf. Suppl. 773. Αιδου τε μολπας εκχεω δακρυρροους, φιλους προσαυδων,
‛ων λελειμμενος ταλας ερημα κλαιω. See Gorius Monum. sive Columbar. Libert.
Florent. mdccxxvii. p.186, who observes, "χαιρε was the accustomed
salutation addressed to the dead. Catullus, Carm. xcvii. Accipe fraterno
multum manantia fletu, atque in perpetuum frater HAVE, atque VALE." The
same scholar compares a monument, apud Fabretti, cap. v. p. 392, n. 265,
D. M
AVE SALVINIA
OMNIUM. AMAN
TISSIMA. ET.
VALE,
which is very apposite to the present occasion. B.
[33] Wakefield reads χαιρε καιν Αιδου δομοις; having in his mind probably
Hom. Il. Ψ. 19. Χαιρε μοι ‛ω Πατροκλε, και ειν Αϊδαο δομοισι.
[34] I should scarcely have observed that this is the proper sense of the
imperfect, had not the former translator mistaken it. B.
[35] Cf. Iph. Taur. 244. χερνιβας δε και καταργματα ουκ αν φθανοις αν
ευτρεπη ποιουμενη. B.
[36] An apparent allusion to the fable of Death and the Old Man. B
[37] Aristophanes' version of this line is, ω παι, τιν αυχεις, ποτερα Λυδον
η Φρυγα Μορμολυττεσθαι δοκεις. B.
[38] Turned by Aristophanes into an apology for beating one's father, Nub.
1415. κλαουσι παιδες, πατερα δ' ου κλαειν δοκεις. See Thesmoph. 194. B.
[39] Cf. Æsch. Choeph. sub init. and Gorius, Monum. Libert. p. 24. ad Tab.
x. lit. A.
[40] Theocrit. i. 27. Και βαθυ κισσυβιον κεκλυσμενον ‛αδει καρωι, Τω περι
μεν χειλη μαρευεται ‛υψοθι κισσος. B.
[41] Hamlet, v. 1.
--Hold off the earth awhile,
Till I have caught her once more in mine arms:
[_ leaps into the grave_.]
Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead. B.
[42] Cf. vs. 195. ‛ον ου προσειπε και προσερρηθη παλιν. B.
[43] Ορφεια γαρυς, a paraphrasis for Ορφευς.
[44] αντιτεμων, μεταφορικως απο των τας ‛ριζας τεμνοντων και ‛ευρισκοντων.
SCHOL. TR. Cf. on Æsch. Agam. 17. B.
[45] In Phavorinus, among the senses of κλισια is κλινη και κλινητηριον.
[46] It will be remembered that the tombs were built near the highways,
with great magnificence, and sometimes very lofty, especially when near the
sea-coast (cf. Æsch. Choeph. 351. D'Orville on Charit. lib. i. sub fin.
Eurip. Hecub. 1273). They are often used as landmarks or milestones, as in
Theocr. vi. 10, and as oratories or chapels, Apul. Florid, i. p.340, ed.
Elm. B.
[47] This appears the most obvious sense, as connected with what follows.
All the interpreters, however, translate it, I thought myself worthy,
standing, as I did, near thy calamities,(i.e. near thee in thy
calamities,) to be proved thy friend.
[48] In the same manner ‛ηβαι is used in Orestes, 687, ‛οταν γαρ ‛ηβαι
δημος εις οργην πεσων.
[49] i.e. the severed head of the Gorgon. Valckenaer observes, that this
is an expression meaning facie aversa, and compares l. 465 of the
Phœnissæ.
[50] Winter's Tale, v. 3.
Start not: her actions shall be holy, as,
You hear, my spell is lawful: do not shun her,
Until you see her die again; for then
You kill her double: Nay, present your hand:
When she was young you woo'd her; now, in age,
Is she become the suitor?
Compare also Much Ado about Nothing, v. 4. B.
[51] ‛αφαγνιζειν h. l. non purificare sed desecrare. Orcus enim, quando
gladio totondisset Alcestidis capillos, eam diis manibus sacram dicaverat,
quod diserte ‛ηγνισαι appellat noster, vide 75--77. Contraria igitur aliqua
ceremonia desecranda erat, antequam Admeto ejus consuetudine et colloquio
frui liceret. HEATH.
* * * * * *