O that I had the pow'r,
Could I but bring thee from the shades of night,
Again to view this golden light,
To leave that boat, to leave that dreary shore,
Where Cocytus, deep and wide,
Rolls along his sullen tide!
For thou, O best of women, thou alone
For thy lord's life daredst give thy own.
Light lie the earth upon thy gentle breast,
And be thou ever blest!
While, should he choose to wed again,
Mine and his children's hearts would hold him in disdain.
Antistrophe II
When, to avert his doom,
His mother in the earth refused to lie;
Nor would his ancient father die
To save his son from an untimely tomb;
Though the hand of time had spread
Hoar hairs o'er each aged head:
In youth's fresh bloom, in beauty's radiant glow,
The darksome way thou daredst to go,
And for thy youthful lord's to give thy life.
Be ours so true a wife!
Though rare the lot, then should we prove
Th' indissoluble bond of faithfulness and love.
EPISODE II
Enter on the Stage through the distance-entrance [Left Side-door] the colossal figure of Hercules. Here is the turning-point of the play: which has the peculiarity of combining an element of the Satyric Drama (or Burlesque) with Tragedy, the combination anticipating the 'Action-Drama' (or 'Tragi-Comedy') of modern times. Accordingly the costume and mask of Hercules are compounded, of his conventional appearance in Tragedy, in which he is conceived as the perfection of physical strength toiling and suffering for mankind, and his conventional appearance in Satyric plays as the gigantic feeder, etc. The two are harmonized in the conception of conscious energy rejoicing in itself, and plunging with equal eagerness into duty and relaxation, while each lasts.
Hercules hails the Chorus and enquires for Admetus. They reply that he is within the Palace, and [shrinking, like all Greeks, from being the first to tell evil tidings] turn the conversation by enquiring what brings the Demi-god to Pherae—in stichomuthic dialogue it is brought out that Hercules is on his way to one of his 'Labors'—that of the Thracian Steeds; and (so lightly does the thought of toil sit on him) it appears he has not troubled to enquire what the task meant: from the Chorus he learns for the first time the many dangers before him, and how the Steeds are devourers of human flesh.
Herc. A toil you tell of that well fits my fate, {517} My life of hardship, ever struggling upward.
Admetus now appears, in mourning garb: after first salutations between the two friends, Hercules enquires what his trouble is, which gives scope for a favorite effect in Greek Drama—'dissimulation.'
Herc. Why are thy locks in sign of mourning shorn? {530} Adm. 'Tis for one dead, whom I to-day must bury. Herc. The Gods avert thy mourning for a child! Adm. My children, what I had, live in my house. Herc. Thy aged father, haply he is gone. Adm. My father lives, and she that bore me lives. Herc. Lies then thy wife Alcestis mongst the dead? Adm. Of her I have in double wise to speak. Herc. As of the living speakst thou, or the dead? Adm. She is, and is no more: this grief afflicts me. Herc. This gives no information: dark thy words. {540} Adm. Knowst thou not then the destiny assign'd her? Herc. I know that she submits to die for thee. Adm. To this assenting is she not no more? Herc. Lament her not too soon: await the time. Adm. She's dead: one soon to die is now no more. Herc. It differs wide to be, and not to be. Adm. Such are thy sentiments, far other mine. Herc. But wherefore are thy tears? What man is dead? Adm. A woman: of a woman I made mention. Herc. Of foreign birth, or one allied to thee? {550} Adm. Of foreign birth, but to my home most dear.
Hercules is moving away for the purpose of seeking hospitality elsewhere: Admetus will not hear of it, and, when Hercules loudly protests, puts aside his opposition with the air of one whose authority in matters of hospitable rites is not to be disputed. He orders attendants to conduct Hercules to a distant quarter of the Palace, to spread a sumptuous feast, and bar fast the doors, lest the voice of woe should affect the feasting guest. When Hercules is gone the Chorus are staggered by such a mastery of personal grief as this implies. But Admetus asks how could he let a guest depart from his house?