O woman.
If your lord choose another bridal-bed
He shall be
hateful to me
As to your own children.
antistrophe 2
When his mother
And the old father that begot him
Would not give their bodies to the earth
For their son's sake,
They dared not deliver him-O cruel!
Though their heads were grey.
But you,
In your
lively youth,
Died for him, and are gone from the light!
Ah! might I be joined
With a wife so dear!
But in life such fortune is rare.
How happy were my days with her!
(From the left HERACLES enters. He is black-bearded and
of great
physical strength; he wears a lion-skin over
his shoulders and carries a large club.)
HERACLES (with a
gesture of salutation)
Friends, dwellers in the lands of Pherae, do I find Admetus in his
home?
LEADER OF THE CHORUS
The son of Pheres is in his home, O Heracles. But, tell us, what
brings you to the land of Thessaly and to the city of Pherae?
HERACLES
I have a task I must
achieve for Eurystheus of Tiryns.
LEADER
Where do you go? To what quest are you yoked?
HERACLES
The quest of the four-horsed
chariot of Diomedes, the Thracian.
LEADER
But how will you
achieve it? Do you know this stranger?
HERACLES
No, I have never been to the land of the Bistones.
LEADER
You cannot
obtain the horses without a struggle.
HERACLES
I cannot
renounce my labours.
LEADER
You must kill to return, or you will remain there dead.
HERACLES
It will not be the first
contest I have risked.
LEADER
And if you
conquer the King will you gain anything?
HERACLES
I shall bring back his foals to the lord of Tiryns.
LEADER
It is not easy to
thrust the bit into their jaws.
HERACLES
Only if they breathe fire from their nostrils!
LEADER
But they tear men with their swift jaws.
HERACLES
You speak of the food of wild mountain beasts, not of horses.
LEADER
You may see their mangers foul with blood.
HERACLES
Of what father does the breeder boast himself the son?
LEADER
Of Ares, the lord of the gold-rich
shield of Thrace!
HERACLES
In this task once more you
remind me of my fate, which is ever
upon harsh steep ways, since I must join battle with the sons of
Ares-first with Lycaon, then with Cycnus, and now in this third
contest I am come to match myself with these steeds and their master!
LEADER
But see, the lord of this land, Admetus himself, comes from the
house!
(The central doors of the Palace have opened, and ADMETUS comes
slowly on the Stage, preceded and followed by guards and attendants.
The King has put off all symbols of
royalty, and is dressed in
black. His tong hair is clipped close to his head. ADMETUS
dissembles his grief throughout this scene, in
obedience to the laws
of
hospitality, which were particularly reverenced in Thessaly.)
ADMETUS
Hail Son of Zeus and of the blood of Perseus!
HERACLES
And hail to you, Admetus, lord of the Thessalians
ADMETUS
May it be so! I know your friendship well.
HERACLES
What means this shorn hair, this
mourning robe?
ADMETUS
To-day I must bury a dead body.
HERACLES
May a God avert harm from your children!
ADMETUS
The children I have begotten are alive in the house.
HERACLES
Your father was ripe for death-if it is he has gone?
ADMETUS
He lives-and she who brought me forth, O Heracles.
HERACLES
Your wife-Alcestis-she is not dead?
ADMETUS (evasively)
Of her I might make a double answer.
HERACLES
Do you mean that she is dead or alive?
ADMETUS (ambiguously)
She is and is not-and for this I grieve.
HERACLES (perplexed)
I am no wiser-you speak obscurely.
ADMETUS
Did you not know the fate which must
befall her?
HERACLES
I know she submitted to die for you.
ADMETUS
How then can she be alive, having consented to this?
HERACLES
Ah! Do not weep for your wife till that time comes.
ADMETUS
Those who are about to die are dead, and the dead are nothing.
HERACLES
Men hold that to be and not to be are different things.
ADMETUS
You hold for one, Heracles, and I for the other.
HERACLES
Whom, then, do you mourn? Which of your friends is dead?
ADMETUS
A woman. We spoke of her just now.
HERACLES (mistaking his meaning)
A stranger? Or one born of your kin?
ADMETUS
A stranger, but one
related to this house.
HERACLES
But how, then, did she chance to die in your house?
ADMETUS
When her father died she was sheltered here.
HERACLES
Alas! Would I had not found you in this grief, Admetus!
ADMETUS
What plan are you weaving with those words?
HERACLES
I shall go to the
hearth of another friend.
ADMETUS
Not so, O King! This wrong must not be.
HERACLES (hesitating)
The coming of a guest is troublesome to those who mourn.
ADMETUS (decisively)
The dead are dead. Enter my house.
HERACLES
But it is
shameful to feast among
weeping friends.
ADMETUS
We shall put you in the guest-rooms, which are far apart.
HERACLES
Let me go, and I will give you a thousand thanks.
ADMETUS
No, you shall not go to another man's
hearth. (To a servant) Guide
him, and open for him the guest-rooms apart from the house.
(HERACLES enters the Palace by the guests' door; when he has gone
in, ADMETUS turns to the other servants) Close the inner door of the
courtyard; it is unseemly that guests
rejoicing at table should hear
lamentations, and be saddened.
(The attendants go into the Palace.)
LEADER
What are you about? When such a
calamity has fallen upon you,
Admetus, have you the heart to
entertain a guest? Are you mad?
ADMETUS
And if I had
driven away a guest who came to my house and city,
would you have praised me more? No, indeed! My
misfortune would have
been no less, and I inhospitable. One more ill would have been added
to those I have if my house were called inhospitable. I myself find
him the best of hosts when I enter the thirsty land of Argos.
LEADER
But why did you hide from him the fate that has
befallen, if the
man came as a friend, as you say?
ADMETUS
Never would he have entered my house if he had guessed my
misfortune.
To some, I know, I shall appear
senseless in doing this, and
they will blame me; but my roof knows not to
reject or
insult a guest.
(He goes into the Palace, as the CHORUS begins its song.)
CHORUS (singing)
strophe 1
O house of a bountiful lord,
Ever open to many guests,
The God of Pytho,
Apollo of the beautiful lyre,
Deigned to dwell in you
And to live a
shepherd in your lands!
On the slope of the hillsides
He played melodies of mating
On the Pipes of Pan to his herds.
antistrophe 1
And the dappled lynxes fed with them
In joy at your singing;
From the
wooded vale of Orthrys
Came a yellow troop of lions;
To the sound of your lyre, O Phoebus,
Danced the dappled fawn
Moving on light feet
Beyond the high-crested pines,
Charmed by your sweet singing.
strophe 2
He dwells in a home most rich in flocks
By the lovely moving Boebian lake.
At the dark stabling-place of the Sun
He takes the sky of the Molossians