ADMETUS (recovering himself and going to the Child).
She hears us not, she sees us not. We lie
Under a heavy grief, child, thou and I.
LITTLE BOY.
I am so little, Father, and lonely and cold
Here without Mother. It is too hard…. And you,
Poor little sister, too.
Oh, Father!
Such a little time we had her. She might have stayed
On till we all were old….
Everything is spoiled when Mother is dead.
[The LITTLE BOY is taken away, with his Sister, sobbing.]
LEADER.
My King, thou needs must gird thee to the worst.
Thou shalt not be the last, nor yet the first,
To lose a noble wife. Be brave, and know
To die is but a debt that all men owe.
ADMETUS.
I know. It came not without doubts and fears,
This thing. The thought hath poisoned all my years.
Howbeit, I now will make the burial due
To this dead Queen. Be assembled, all of you;
And, after, raise your triumph-song to greet
This pitiless Power that yawns beneath our feet.
Meantime let all in Thessaly who dread
My sceptre join in mourning for the dead
With temples sorrow-shorn and sable weed.
Ye chariot-lords, ye spurrers of the steed,
Shear close your horses' manes! Let there be found
Through all my realm no lute, nor lyre, nor sound
Of piping, till twelve moons are at an end.
For never shall I lose a closer friend,
Nor braver in my need. And worthy is she
Of honour, who alone hath died for me.
[The body of ALCESTIS is carried into the house by mourners; ADMETUS follows it.]
CHORUS.
Daughter of Pelias, fare thee well,
May joy be thine in the Sunless Houses!
For thine is a deed which the Dead shall tell
Where a King black-browed in the gloom carouses;
And the cold grey hand at the helm and oar
Which guideth shadows from shore to shore,
Shall bear this day o'er the Tears that Well,
A Queen of women, a spouse of spouses.
Minstrels many shall praise thy name
With lyre full-strung and with voices lyreless,
When Mid-Moon riseth, an orbèd flame,
And from dusk to dawning the dance is tireless;
And Carnos cometh to Sparta's call,
And Athens shineth in festival;
For thy death is a song, and a fullness of fame,
Till the heart of the singer is left desireless.
LEADER.
Would I could reach thee, oh,
Reach thee and save, my daughter,
Starward from gulfs of Hell,
Past gates, past tears that swell,
Where the weak oar climbs thro'
The night and the water!
SECOND ELDER.
Belovèd and lonely one,
Who feared not dying:
Gone in another's stead
Alone to the hungry dead:
Light be the carven stone
Above thee lying!