(60) THE ALCESTIS OF EURIPIDES. TRANSLATED BY REV. JAMES BANKS, M.A. Late Scholar of Lincoln College, Oxford. ARGUMENT. APOLLO desired that the Fates would allow Admetus, who was about to die, to find a substitute to die for him, so that he might live for a term equal to his former life: and Alcestis, his wife, gave herself up, while neither of the parents were willing to die for their son. Not long after this calamity, Hercules, having arrived, and learned from a servant the fate of Alcestis, goes to her tomb, and having made Death retire, covers the lady with a robe. He then requests Admetus to receive her, and keep her for him; saying, that he has carried her off as a prize, in wrestling. Upon his refusal to do so, Hercules unveils her, and discovers to her husband the wife whom he is lamenting. Dramatis Persona. APOLLO. DEATH. CHORUS OF PHEREANS. ATTENDANTS. ALCESTIS. ADMETUS. EUMELUS. HERCULES. PHERES. ALCESTIS. APOLLO. Hail! Halls that saw in me the God abased By menial service at a mortal board. Jove will'd it so! for thee, my noble son, When thou wast breast-struck by his lightning flash, The Cyclops fell for Esculapius. Hence came my service: hence my sire's constraint For earthly wages, and for sons of men. This land receiv'd me ; here I first found rest, 10 And I have watch'd his household till this day.— In truth, being Holy, I had chanc'd it seems, Whom, cheating thus the Fates, I saved from death. But soft! I mark the near approach of Death; (Enter Death.) DEATH. Why at the palace, say? what is thy mission here? Now, with thy bow in hand, here at the palace gates, 40 Stand'st thou to rescue his spouse from the bonds of Dis? Freely she promised her breath to redeem his life, APOLLO. Fear not! just dealing and fair speech are mine. : DEATH. Ay and though right forbid, befriend these Halls. DEATH. It may not be! I too my rights enjoy. DEATH. The rich stand debtors, Phoebus, to thy rule. 50 60 DEATH. Those, that have wealth, would purchase to die old. AP. Thou wilt not then accord the boon I ask? DEATH. I tell thee, no! methinks thou know'st my ways. AP. Yes! harsh to men, and by the gods abhorred. DEATH. Thou canst not have such things as right denies. AP. Brag on! Perchance thy fire may yet be quench'd: A hero wendeth unto Pheres' halls, On errand of Eurystheus sent to bring The steeds and chariot from tempestuous Thrace. Soon shall he find a welcome with the king, And in return shall yield him back his spouse, 70 Taken perforce from thee. I owe thee nought DEATH. Much hast thou said, yet is thy purpose vain. To her last home this lady must descend, In quest of whom I march; my sword is drawn, Whose foremost lock this brand doth consecrate. 80 1 CHORUS. Why is there ever this silence within the halls? Why art thou voiceless, O house of Admetus? 2 CHORUS. Doth there no ready sound answer our eager calls? Or to say if yonder morrow Lets the light of Heaven in? Who, like her, would strive to prove 1 CHOR. Hear ye aught of lamentation? Or the dint of frequent blows? Doth no dirge give intimation 90 That the deed hath met its close? 100 Surely there is no retainer Posted at the palace gate; Oh that, Healer, thou couldst gain her 2 CHOR. Death would raise a host of voices. 1 CHOR. HOW? thine heart in hope rejoices, Mine in vain aspires to win! 2 CHOR. Thinkest thou no crowd would follow (If the mournful train were seen :) Her whom earth would gladly swallow, Worthy wife, and noble queen. 1 AND 2 CHOR. Neither see I lustral water, Which from dewy founts they pour, Oft as each Pheræan daughter Yields her life, before the door. In the vestibule no token, As of shorn locks, have we found ; 110 120 From her lord. 1 CHOR. Yet 'tis to day Which-. 2 CHоR. Speak on! 1 CHOR. The fates decided For her passage to decay. 2 CHOR. Thou dost wound my heart with sorrow! CHOR. Bid all thy crews the Ocean rove: : Equip thy fleet: yet where ye steer, For her, whom price can ne'er redeem From death's embrace. Methinks I seem Yet one there was; oh could but he, To realms of day: this light but see; Recovery from a leech so kind: And cheat the shades and darksome bourne, Which else her endless lot must be : And we might cease again to mourn. For he was wise to raise the dead, But now what hope of life is left? And through the temples all around, In vain the slaughter'd beasts abound. 130 140 150 160 |