[PHERES is now out of sight; ADMETUS drops his defiance and seems like a broken man.]
But we—our sorrow is upon us; come
With me, and let us bear her to the tomb.
CHORUS.
Ah me!
Farewell, unfalteringly brave!
Farewell, thou generous heart and true!
May Pluto give thee welcome due,
And Hermes love thee in the grave.
Whate'er of blessèd life there be
For high souls to the darkness flown,
Be thine for ever, and a throne
Beside the crowned Persephonê.
[The funeral procession has formed and moves slowly out, followed by ADMETUS and the CHORUS. The stage is left empty, till a side door of the Castle opens and there comes out a SERVANT, angry and almost in tears.]
SERVANT.
Full many a stranger and from many a land
Hath lodged in this old castle, and my hand
Served them; but never has there passed this way
A scurvier ruffian than our guest to-day.
He saw my master's grief, but all the more
In he must come, and shoulders through the door.
And after, think you he would mannerly
Take what was set before him? No, not he!
If, on this day of trouble, we left out
Some small thing, he must have it with a shout.
Up, in both hands, our vat of ivy-wood
He raised, and drank the dark grape's burning blood,
Strong and untempered, till the fire was red
Within him; then put myrtle round his head
And roared some noisy song. So had we there
Discordant music. He, without a care
For all the affliction of Admetus' halls,
Sang on; and, listening, one could hear the thralls
In the long gallery weeping for the dead.
We let him see no tears. Our master made
That order, that the stranger must not know.
So here I wait in her own house, and do
Service to some black thief, some man of prey;
And she has gone, has gone for ever away.
I never followed her, nor lifted high
My hand to bless her; never said good-bye….
I loved her like my mother. So did all
The slaves. She never let his anger fall
Too hard. She saved us alway…. And this wild beast
Comes in our sorrow when we need him least!
[During the last few lines HERACLES has entered, unperceived by the SERVANT. He has evidently bathed and changed his garments and drunk his fill, and is now revelling, a garland of flowers on his head. He frightens the SERVANT a little from time to time during the following speech.]
HERACLES.
Friend, why so solemn and so cranky-eyed?
'Tis not a henchman's office, to show pride
To his betters. He should smile and make good cheer.
There comes a guest, thy lord's old comrade, here;
And thou art all knitted eyebrows, scowls and head
Bent, because somebody, forsooth, is dead!
Come close! I mean to make thee wiser.
[The SERVANT reluctantly comes close.]
So.
Dost comprehend things mortal, how they grow?…
(To himself) I suppose not. How could he?…
Look this way!
Death is a debt all mortal men must pay;
Aye, there is no man living who can say
If life will last him yet a single day.
On, to the dark, drives Fortune; and no force
Can wrest her secret nor put back her course….
I have told thee now. I have taught thee. After this
Eat, drink, make thyself merry. Count the bliss
Of the one passing hour thine own; the rest
Is Fortune's. And give honour chiefliest
To our lady Cypris, giver of all joys
To man. 'Tis a sweet goddess. Otherwise,
Let all these questions sleep and just obey
My counsel…. Thou believest all I say?
I hope so…. Let this stupid grieving be;
Rise up above thy troubles, and with me
Drink in a cloud of blossoms. By my soul,
I vow the sweet plash-music of the bowl
Will break thy glumness, loose thee from the frown
Within. Let mortal man keep to his own
Mortality, and not expect too much.
To all your solemn dogs and other such
Scowlers—I tell thee truth, no more nor less—
Life is not life, but just unhappiness.
[He offers the wine-bowl to the SERVANT, who avoids it.]