University of Virginia Library

Scene III.

—Temple of Apollo. Enter Alcestis and Euphranor, meeting.
Alcestis.
The King's in deepest trance! At last I come,
A suppliant, as thou see'st, from tendence on him
Most miserably freed—wearier than all
My worn-out messengers. Once more I'll rack
Thy tortured ear: O, is the oracle
Still dumb?

Euphranor.
Still dumb, O Queen! The Pythoness
Still sleeps; and none dare break her rest.

Alcestis.
Still dumb!
Were all the lustral rites performed?

Euphranor.
All, Madam.
The sacred virgins led her secretly,
In silence, to the deepest cavern, where,
Still fasting, her chaste body in the brook
Seven times she laved; then, donning her white stole,
She plucked three leaves from great Apollo's tree,
And chewed them; and with nine her head she crowned;
But ere she touched the tripod fell this sleep
From heaven upon her eyes. The virtuous boughs
Of our unfading laurel, whispering still
With each oracular air the cavern breathes,
Bend o'er her rest. If her pale lips but move,
A hierophant stands by to note it. Madam,
I pray your patience; for I grow to think
Some great deliverance will be wrought.

Alcestis.
O thanks!
For any word of comfort take my thanks!
But go thyself into the inmost shrine—
Note her thyself. Alas! I am grown mad,
And would importune Zeus, or Death himself,
Or the unyielding Fates, to medicine me
With hope, as dying men clutch bitterest balms.
Have pity on thy Queen, and go once more!
I'll kneel and wrestle here till I drop dead,
Or win some comfort—go!

Euphranor.
Dear Queen, I go.
Would I were Zeus, so I might staunch with joy
The fountains of thine eyes.

[Exit Euphranor.
Alcestis.
O kind Apollo!
Who didst so cherish us once, wilt thou forget
Admetus now, when not to succour him
Were but to blight thy favour's opening May
With a thrice-bitter frost! Thou who dost know
Thyself both love and tears, who owest Death
Many a deep grudge, look now upon our love,
Which soared its lark-like flight, a mounting hymn
In thine own praise, struck bloodily in full song
By this most cruel hawk. What tower of crime
Can any god o'erturn upon the head
Of this, thy friend, save too much trust in thee?
O save him now, and save thy glorious name
On the warm lips of men, thy holiest praise
In their adoring hearts!
[Re-enter Euphranor.
What now?

Euphranor.
O Queen,
The Pythoness hath spoken in her trance,
Marvellous things! Apollo stands before
The never-lifted veil; his radiant self
An earnest-pleading voice. He's dumb but now,
While the all-dreaded Three, in silence dread,
Look in each other's eyes, to read the doom
Of thy great consort.

Alcestis.
Silence guard my life
From sinful thought in this grim hour of doom!

[A pause; then enter a Priest suddenly.
Alcestis.
O, is there help in heaven?

Priest.
Ay, help in heaven,
So there be help on earth.

Alcestis.
What dost thou mean?

Priest.
Admetus lives, if there be found a friend
To die for him.

Alcestis.
To die for him? A friend?
Must then some man, or may a woman die?

Priest.
A man or woman, Madam.

Alcestis.
Gentle Fates,
I thank you for this doom! He's saved! he's saved!

[Exit Priest.
Euphranor.
Alas! what means this sudden ecstacy?

Alcestis.
My Lord is saved!

Euphranor.
How saved? Will any die
To save his friend? Yet for the King we'll make
All proclamation—

Alcestis.
Proclamation, man!
What proclamation? Who should be his friend,
But I—his wife?

Euphranor.
Thou? Thou wilt die for him!
O prodigy of love!

Alcestis.
No prodigy,
Save love's a thing prodigious—love that lives
By looking in death's eyes. Will soldiers die
For hate, and wives not die for love? Will men
Hold their lives cheap, and risk them every day
On perilous seas, high scaffolds, in dark mines,
For a poor piece of bread; in games, brawls, battles,
For praise, gain, duty; and shall women fear
To die for love's sweet sake? O where's the wife,
That mounts the nuptial bed, but ere she sees
The darling first-born face outfaces death
In the warm nest of love? I die to-day—
I might have died to-morrow, when my death
Gained no great life for the world. Admetus lives:
I triumph over death in this strong son
I bring again to mightier birth.

Euphranor.
O, Queen,
Thy words are as a wind that bows my head
In trembling awe! My life is but a reed,
Shaken, astonied, fluttered. I am not
The stolid thing I was. What can I say?
O let me kiss thy feet!

Alcestis.
Stand up, stand up!
Kneel to the gods, not me.

Euphranor.
But let me still
Make proclamation.

Alcestis.
Ay, proclaim the doom—
Say not a word of me—we'll test the love
Of all this people. What if they come in crowds,
Clamorous for death, to put their Queen to shame—
How wilt thou hold me then?

Euphranor.
Not less their Queen.

Alcestis.
Farewell till then.

Euphranor.
Farewell, O peerless wife!