Alcestis Part 8

A faithful wife indeed thou hast lost, and one Who ruled her heart. But, howso hard they be, We needs must bear these griefs.--Some gifts for thee Are here.... Yes; take them. Let them go beneath The sod. We both must honour her in death, Seeing she hath died, my son, that thou mayst live Nor I be childless. Aye, she would not give My soul to a sad old age, mourning for thee.

Methinks she hath made all women's life to be A n.o.bler thing, by one great woman's deed.

Thou saviour of my son, thou staff in need To our wrecked age, farewell! May some good life Be thine still in the grave.--Oh, 'tis a wife Like this man needs; else let him stay unwed!

[_The old man has not noticed_ ADMETUS'S _gathering indignation_.]

ADMETUS.

I called not thee to burial of my dead, Nor count thy presence here a welcome thing.

My wife shall wear no robe that thou canst bring, Nor needs thy help in aught. There was a day We craved thy love, when I was on my way Deathward--thy love, which bade thee stand aside And watch, grey-bearded, while a young man died!

And now wilt mourn for her? Thy fatherhood!

Thou wast no true begetter of my blood, Nor she my mother who dares call me child.

Oh, she was barren ever; she beguiled Thy folly with some b.a.s.t.a.r.d of a thrall.

Here is thy proof! This hour hath shown me all Thou art; and now I am no more thy son.

'Fore G.o.d, among all cowards can scarce be one Like thee. So grey, so near the boundary Of mortal life, thou wouldst not, durst not, die To save thy son! Thou hast suffered her to do Thine office, her, no kin to me nor you, Yet more than kin! Henceforth she hath all the part Of mother, yea, and father in my heart.

And what a glory had been thine that day, Dying to save thy son--when, either way, Thy time must needs be brief. Thy life has had Abundance of the things that make men glad; A crown that came to thee in youth; a son To do thee worship and maintain thy throne-- Not like a childless king, whose folk and lands Lie helpless, to be torn by strangers' hands.

Wilt say I failed in duty to thine age; For that thou hast let me die? Not so; most sage, Most pious I was, to mother and to thee; And thus ye have paid me! Well, I counsel ye.

Lose no more time. Get quick another son To foster thy last years, to lay thee on Thy bier, when dead, and wrap thee in thy pall.

_I_ will not bury thee. I am, for all The care thou hast shown me, dead. If I have found Another, true to save me at the bound Of life and death, that other's child am I, That other's fostering friend, until I die.

How falsely do these old men pray for death, Cursing their weight of years, their weary breath!

When Death comes close, there is not one that dares To die; age is forgot and all its cares.

LEADER.

Oh, peace! Enough of sorrow in our path Is strewn. Thou son, stir not thy father's wrath.

PHERES.

My son, whom seekest thou ... some Lydian thrall, Or Phrygian, bought with cash?... to affright withal By cursing? I am a Thessalian, free, My father a born chief of Thessaly; And thou most insolent. Yet think not so To fling thy loud lewd words at me and go.

I got thee to succeed me in my hall, I have fed thee, clad thee. But I have no call To die for thee. Not in our family, Not in all Greece, doth law bid fathers die To save their sons. Thy road of life is thine None other's, to rejoice at or repine.

All that was owed to thee by us is paid.

My throne is thine. My broad lands shall be made Thine, as I had them from my father.... Say, How have I wronged thee? What have I kept away?

"Not died for thee?"... I ask not thee to die.

Thou lovest this light: shall I not love it, I?...

'Tis age on age there, in the dark; and here My sunlit time is short, but dear; but dear.

Thou hast fought hard enough. Thou drawest breath Even now, long past thy portioned hour of death, By murdering her ... and blamest my faint heart, Coward, who hast let a woman play thy part And die to save her pretty soldier! Aye, A good plan, surely! Thou needst never die; Thou canst find alway somewhere some fond wife To die for thee. But, prithee, make not strife With other friends, who will not save thee so.

Be silent, loving thine own life, and know All men love theirs!... Taunt others, and thou too Shalt hear much that is bitter, and is true.

LEADER.

Too much of wrath before, too much hath run After. Old man, cease to revile thy son.

ADMETUS.

Speak on. I have spoken.... If my truth of tongue Gives pain to thee, why didst thou do me wrong?

PHERES.

Wrong? To have died for thee were far more wrong.

ADMETUS.

How can an old life weigh against a young?

PHERES.

Man hath but one, not two lives, to his use.

ADMETUS.

Oh, live on; live, and grow more old than Zeus!

PHERES.

Because none wrongs thee, thou must curse thy sire?

ADMETUS.

I blest him. Is not life his one desire?

PHERES.

This dead, methinks, is lying in _thy_ place.

ADMETUS.

A proof, old traitor, of thy cowardliness!

PHERES.

Died she through me?... That thou wilt hardly say.

ADMETUS (_almost breaking down_).

O G.o.d!

Mayst thou but feel the need of me some day!

PHERES.

Go forward; woo more wives that more may die.

ADMETUS.

As thou wouldst not! Thine is the infamy.

PHERES.

This light of heaven is sweet, and sweet again.

ADMETUS.

Thy heart is foul. A thing unmeet for men.

PHERES.

Thou laugh'st not yet across the old man's tomb.

ADMETUS.

Dishonoured thou shalt die when death shall come.

PHERES.

Once dead, I shall not care what tales are told.

ADMETUS.

Great G.o.ds, so lost to honour and so old!

PHERES.

She was not lost to honour: she was blind.

ADMETUS.