University of Virginia Library

Scene I.

—Nuptial Chamber of Alcestis. Alcestis on her bier. Admetus, Pheres, Chorus of Mourners.
Admetus.
With broken heart and withered life I come,
To take farewell of thee, my gentle love.
Ah! would that now, as coldly thou goest forth
From this my house unto the house of death,
'Twere I lay there! I could not bear to think,
When with glad nuptial hymns, and torches bright—
Smelling of joy, as these of blank despair—
I welcomed thee in triumph, I should so
Have borne thee forth again. I thought to have died,
As in sad sooth I did, upon thy breast,
In thy dear arms—how happily, methinks,
If I had died for thee! And now thou art gone,
And I must live in the bleak desolate world,
Without thee, and a second time endure
The dreadful pangs of death—without thee. O
'Tis I that walk in the grave! thou livest still,
My enskied goddess: Cresilas shall carve
Thy image of the rarest ivory,
And in my chamber it shall smile my prayers
Some comfort back.

Pheres.
Nay, nay, my son, my son,
In this excess of grief thou art to blame.
To mourn o'ermuch is hateful to the gods;
And thus to set this woman, thy good wife—
For she was good, a mine of wealth to thee—
To set this woman in a shrine, I say,
And worship her, were sheer impiety.

Admetus.
To mourn her overmuch! Methinks I mourn
No more at all. This funeral pageant seems
A dream—a pretty play. Do I shed tears?
I have wept away my tears—I am but a stone;
And if I please myself with passionate words
That have no passion in them—why I could laugh
Or jest as well—would'st have me dance?
(aside)
What things
Old men will say: to mourn her overmuch!

Pheres.
Alas! my son, these are unseemly words
For the sad business we are here upon.
I praise this wife of thine among the best
That men have wedded. A chaste wife and fond
Is best of the god's good gifts; and she was fond,
Even to the giving of her life for thee.

Admetus.
Ay, fond, fond, very fond—'twas a fond thing,
She did. (aside.) O Cerberus, what horrible thoughts
Will sorrow prompt! If this old man had died,
Thou hadst been living now. His curdled blood
That ran too slow to succour me, might have kept
Thy heart from freezing. Cursed, cursed thought!
My poor fond father! Nay, 'tis I, 'tis I,
Who have murdered thee—Alcestis, O Alcestis!
My love thy bloody instrument of death!

Pheres.
Why look'st thou so distraught?

Admetus.
O nothing, nothing!—
I have said nothing. But I thank you all
For your condolements. No, I'll grieve no more:
Wild rages, speculations, evil thoughts,
Despairs, self-accusations, groundless fears—
These are the brood of solitary grief.

Pheres.
'Tis wisely spoken. Thy mother bade me hang
This garland on the hearse in sign of love.
She was a duteous daughter to us both,
A very duteous daughter—ever planning
Some comfort for our age. Our loss looks pale
By thine, much greater; but must yet be wept
With what few tears are left in the parched wells
Of our old eyes. Well, life is but a span,
And to have known a spirit so devout
Should make us bless the gods. Shall they take up
The bier?

Admetus.
Stay, stay! I bade them bring me flowers.
Ay, they are here. My darling, for thy brow
This crown of daisies and of marigolds
I have woven myself—flowers of the sun, that follow
His going with glad eyes. So did thy soul
Ope to the light of truth, the heat of love,
With fearless welcome. On thy gentle breast
Lie virgin lilies; odorous myrtle-buds,
Sweet as thy faith; and starry passion-flowers
That wither in the heat of their own love;
And in thy hand, for sceptre of death's realm,
Be fadeless amaranth. Farewell, my Queen!
Would this last kiss were potent as thine own
To woo thee back to life! Beautiful clod;
Thy warmth I used to bear about with me,
And now thy cold I'll carry to my grave!
Take up the bier.

THRENODY FOR ALCESTIS.

[Exeunt processionally, singing.