Alcestis | Page 6

thee homage great.
APOLLO. Ah, then she may yet ... she may yet grow old?
THANATOS (_with a laugh_). No!... I too have my rights, and them I hold.
APOLLO. 'Tis but one life thou gainest either-wise.
THANATOS. When young souls die, the richer is my prize.
APOLLO. Old, with great riches they will bury her.
THANATOS. Fie on thee, fie! Thou rich-man's lawgiver!
APOLLO. How? Is there wit in Death, who seemed so blind?
THANATOS. The rich would buy long life for all their kind.
APOLLO. Thou will not grant me, then, this boon? 'Tis so?
THANATOS. Thou knowest me, what I am: I tell thee, no!
APOLLO. I know gods sicken at thee and men pine.
THANATOS. Begone! Too many things not meant for thine Thy greed hath conquered; but not all, not all!
APOLLO. I swear, for all thy bitter pride, a fall Awaits thee. One even now comes conquering Towards this house, sent by a southland king To fetch him four wild coursers, of the race Which rend men's bodies in the winds of Thrace. This house shall give him welcome good, and he Shall wrest this woman from thy worms and thee. So thou shalt give me all, and thereby win But hatred, not the grace that might have been. [Exit APOLLO.]
THANATOS. Talk on, talk on! Thy threats shall win no bride From me.--This woman, whatsoe'er betide, Shall lie in Hades' house. Even at the word I go to lay upon her hair my sword. For all whose head this grey sword visiteth To death are hallowed and the Lords of death.
[THANATOS _goes into the house. Presently, as the day grows lighter, the_ CHORUS _enters: it consists of Citizens of Pherae, who speak severally._]
CHORUS.
LEADER. Quiet, quiet, above, beneath!
SECOND ELDER. The house of Admetus holds its breath.
THIRD ELDER. And never a King's friend near, To tell us either of tears to shed For Pelias' daughter, crowned and dead; Or joy, that her eyes are clear. Bravest, truest of wives is she That I have seen or the world shall see.
DIVERS CITIZENS, conversing. (The dash -- indicates a new speaker.)
--Hear ye no sob, or noise of hands Beating the breast? No mourners' cries For one they cannot save? --Nothing: and at the door there stands No handmaid.--Help, O Paian; rise, O star beyond the wave!
--Dead, and this quiet? No, it cannot be. --Dead, dead!--Not gone to burial secretly!
--Why? I still fear: what makes your speech so brave? --Admetus cast that dear wife to the grave Alone, with none to see?
--I see no bowl of clear spring water. It ever stands before the dread Door where a dead man rests. --No lock of shorn hair! Every daughter Of woman shears it for the dead. No sound of bruisèd breasts!
--Yet 'tis this very day ...--This very day? --The Queen should pass and lie beneath the clay. --It hurts my life, my heart!--All honest hearts Must sorrow for a brightness that departs, A good life worn away.
LEADER. To wander o'er leagues of land, To search over wastes of sea, Where the Prophets of Lycia stand, Or where Ammon's daughters three Make runes in the rainless sand, For magic to make her free-- Ah, vain! for the end is here; Sudden it comes and sheer. What lamb on the altar-strand Stricken shall comfort me?
SECOND ELDER. Only, only one, I know: Apollo's son was he, Who healed men long ago. Were he but on earth to see, She would rise from the dark below And the gates of eternity. For men whom the Gods had slain He pitied and raised again; Till God's fire laid him low, And now, what help have we?
OTHERS. All's done that can be. Every vow Full paid; and every altar's brow Full crowned with spice of sacrifice. No help remains nor respite now.
Enter from the Castle a HANDMAID, _almost in tears._
LEADER. But see, a handmaid cometh, and the tear Wet on her cheek! What tiding shall we hear?... Thy grief is natural, daughter, if some ill Hath fallen to-day. Say, is she living still Or dead, your mistress? Speak, if speak you may.
MAID. Alive. No, dead.... Oh, read it either way.
LEADER. Nay, daughter, can the same soul live and die?
MAID. Her life is broken; death is in her eye.
LEADER. Poor King, to think what she was, and what thou!
MAID. He never knew her worth.... He will know it now.
LEADER. There is no hope, methinks, to save her still?
MAID. The hour is come, and breaks all human will.
LEADER. She hath such tendance as the dying crave?
MAID. For sure: and rich robes ready for her grave.
LEADER. 'Fore God, she dies high-hearted, aye, and far In honour raised above all wives that are!
MAID. Far above all! How other? What must she, Who seeketh to surpass this woman, be? Or how could any wife more shining make Her lord's love, than by dying for