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. But should I fail to find my prey and he come not to the clotted blood, I will go to the sunless home of those beneath the earth, to Persephone and her king, and make to them my prayer, sure that I shall bring Alcestis up again, to place her in the hands of him, my host,
  2. who welcomed me to his house nor drove me thence, though fortune smote him hard, but this his noble spirit strove to hide out of regard for me. What host more kind than him in Thessaly? or in
    in the homes of Hellas? Wherefore shall he never say
  3. his generous deeds were lavished on a worthless wretch. [Exeunt HERACLES and Servant.
Admetus
  1. Ah me! I loathe this entering in, and loathe to see my widowed home. Woe, woe is me! Whither shall I go? Where stand? what say? or what suppress? Would God that I were dead!
  2. Surely in an evil hour my mother gave me birth. The dead I envy, and would fain be as they, and long to dwell within their courts. No joy to me to see the light, no joy to tread the earth;
  3. such a hostage death hath reft me of and handed o’er to Hades.
Chorus
  1. Move forward, go within the shelter of thy house.
Admetus
  1. Woe is me!
Chorus
  1. Thy sufferings claim these cries of woe.
Admetus
  1. Ah me!
Chorus
  1. Through anguish hast thou gone, full well I know.
Admetus
  1. Alas! alas!
Chorus
  1. Thou wilt not help the dead one whit.
Admetus
  1. O misery!
Chorus
  1. Nevermore to see thy dear wife face to face is grief indeed.
Admetus
  1. Thy words have probed the sore place in my heart. What greater grief can come to man
  2. than the loss of a faithful wife? Would I had never married or shared with her my home! I envy those ’mongst men who have nor wife nor child. Theirs is but one life; to grieve for that is no excessive burden;
  3. but to see children fall ill and bridal beds emptied by death’s ravages is too much to bear, when one might go through life without wife or child.
Chorus
  1. A fate we cannot cope with is come upon us.
Admetus
  1. Woe is me!