Alcestis

Euripides

Euripides. The Plays of Euripides, Translated into English Prose from the Text of Paley. Vol. I. Coleridge, Edward P., translator. London: George Bell and Sons, 1906.

  1. for her lord than by offering in his stead to die? Thus much the whole city knows right well; but thou shalt hear with wonder what she did within the house. For when she knew the fatal day was come, she washed her fair white skin with water from the stream,
  2. then from her cedar chests drew forth vesture and ornaments and robed herself becomingly; next,
    standing before the altar-hearth, she prayed, Mistress mine, behold! I pass beneath the earth; to thee in suppliant wise will I my latest prayer address;
  3. be mother to my orphans, and to my boy unite a loving bride, to my daughter a noble husband. Let them not die, as I, their mother, perish now, untimely in their youth, but let them live their glad lives out, happy in their native land.
  4. To every altar in Admetus’ halls she went and crowned them and prayed, plucking from myrtle boughs their foliage, with never a tear or groan, nor did her coming trouble change the colour of her comely face.
  5. Anon into her bridal bower she burst, and then her tears brake forth and thus she cried, O couch, whereon I loosed my maiden state for the man in whose cause I die, farewell! no hate I feel for thee; for me alone hast thou undone,
  6. dying as I die from fear of betraying thee and my lord. Some other wife will make thee hers, more blest maybe than me, but not more chaste. And she fell upon her knees and kissed it, till with her gushing tears the whole bed was wet.
  7. At last, when she had had her fill of weeping, she tore herself from the bed and hurried headlong forth, and oft as she was leaving the chamber turned she back and cast herself once more upon the couch; while her children were weeping as they clung to their mother’s robes;
  8. but she took them each in turn in her arms and kissed them fondly, as a dying mother might. And all the servants in the house fell a-crying in sorrow for their mistress; but she held out her hand to each, nor was there one so mean
  9. but she gave him a word and took his answer back. Such are the sorrows in the halls of Admetus. Dying he had died once for all, but by avoiding death he hath a legacy of grief that he will ne’er forget.
Chorus
  1. Doubtless Admetus sorrows in this calamity,
  2. if he must lose so good a wife.
Maid
  1. Ah yes! he weeps, holding in his arms his darling wife, and prays her not to leave him, impossible request!
    for she is worn and wasted with illness, and lies[*](Elmsley was the first to detect that a line has probably been lost here, containing some finite verb to complete the sense, which I have endeavoured to give by introducing lies into my translation.) exhausted, a sad burden in his arms.
  2. Still, though her breath comes short and scant, she yearns to gaze yet on the sunshine, for nevermore, but now the last and latest time her eye shall see his radiant orb.[*](These two lines, of frequent recurrence in Greek tragedy, are here rejected by Nauck.) But I will go, thy presence to announce,
  3. for ’tis not all who have the goodwill to stand by their masters with kindly hearts in adversity. But thou of old hast been my master’s friend.
Chorus
  1. O Zeus, what way out of these sorrows can be found? how can we loose the bonds of fate that bind our lord?
  2. Comes some one forth? Am I at once to cut my hair, and cast the sable robe about me? Too plainly, ay too plainly, friends; still let us to heaven pray; for the gods’ power is very great.
  3. O king Paean, devise for Admetus some means of escape from his sorrows. Yes, yes, contrive it; for thou in days gone by didst find salvation for him, so now be thou a saviour from the toils of death
  4. and stay bloodthirsty Hades.
Chorus
  1. Woe! woe! alas! Thou son of Pheres, woe! Ah, thy fate in losing thy wife! Is not this enough to make thee slay thyself, ah! more than cause enough to tie the noose aloft and fit it to the neck?
  2. Yea, for to-day wilt thou witness the death of her that was not merely dear, but dearest of the dear. Look, look! she cometh even now, her husband with her, from the house. Cry aloud and wail, O land of Pherae,