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.
- I will seek some other friendly hearth.
- Never, O prince! Heaven forefend such dire disgrace!
- A guest is a burden to sorrowing friends, if come he should.
- The dead are dead. Come in.
- To feast in a friend’s house of sorrow is shameful.
- The guest chambers lie apart, whereto we will conduct thee.
- Let me go; ten thousandfold shall be my thanks to thee.
- Thou must not go to any other hearth. (To a Servant.) Go before, open the guest-rooms that face not these chambers, and bid my stewards see there is plenty of food; then shut the doors that lead into the courtyard; for ’tis not seemly that guests when at their meat
- should hear the voice of weeping or be made sad. [Exit HERACLES.
- What doest thou? With such calamity before thee, hast thou the heart, Admetus, to welcome visitors? What means this folly?
- Well, and if I had driven him from my house and city when he came to be my guest, wouldst thou have praised me more?
- No indeed! for my calamity would have been no whit less, while I should have been more churlish. And this would have been another woe to add to mine, that my house should be called no friend to guests. Yea, and I find him myself the best of hosts
- whene’er to Argos’ thirsty land I come.
- Why then didst thou conceal thy present misfortune, if, as thy own lips declare, it was a friend that came?
- He would never have entered my house, had he known aught of my distress.
- Maybe there are who think me but a fool for acting thus, and these will blame me; but my halls have never learnt to drive away or treat with scorn my guests.
- O home of hospitality, thrown open by thy lord to all now and ever!
- In thee it was that Pythian Apollo, the sweet harper, deigned to make his home, and in thy halls was content to lead a shepherd’s life,
- piping o’er the sloping downs shepherd’s madrigals to thy flocks.
- And spotted lynxes couched amid his sheep in joy to hear his melody,