Ten Plays. Euripides

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      PHERES. Once dead I little reck of foul report.

      ADMETUS. Alas! how void of shame the old can be!

      PHERES. Hers was no want of shame; ’twas want of sense in her that thou didst find.

      ADMETUS. Begone! and leave me to bury my dead.

      PHERES. I go; bury thy victim, thyself her murderer. Her kinsmen yet will call for an account. Else surely has Acastus ceased to be a man, if he avenge not on thee his sister’s blood.

      ADMETUS. Perdition seize thee and that wife of thine! grow old, as ye deserve, childless, though your son yet lives, for ye shall never enter the same abode with me; nay! were it needful I should disown thy paternal hearth by heralds’ voice, I had disowned it. (Exit PHERES) Now, since we must bear our present woe, let us go and lay the dead upon the pyre.

      [Exit ADMETUS.]

      CHORUS. Woe, woe for thee! Alas, for thy hardihood! Noble spirit, good beyond compare, farewell! May Hermes in the nether world, and Hades, too, give thee a kindly welcome! and if even in that other life the good are rewarded, mayst thou have thy share therein and take thy seat by Hades’ bride!

      [Exit CHORUS.]

      [Enter ATTENDANT.]

      ATTENDANT. Many the guests ere now from every corner of the world I have seen come to the halls of Admetus, for whom I have spread the board, but never yet have I welcomed to this hearth a guest so shameless as this; a man who, in the first place, though he saw my master’s grief, yet entered and presumed to pass the gates, then took what cheer we had in no sober spirit, though he knew our sorrow; no! was there aught we failed to bring? he called for it. Next in his hands he took a goblet of ivy-wood and drank the pure juice of the black grape, till the mounting fumes of wine heated him, and he crowned his head with myrtle-sprays, howling discordantly, while two-fold strains were there to hear, for he would sing without a thought for the troubles in Admetus’ halls, while we servants mourned our mistress, though we did not let the stranger see our streaming eyes, for such was the bidding of Admetus. So now here am I entertaining as a guest some miscreant thief maybe, or robber, while she is gone forth from the house, nor did I follow her nor stretch my hand towards her bier, in mourning for my lady, who, to me and all her servants, was a mother, for she would save us from countless trouble, appeasing her husband’s angry mood. Have I not good cause then to loathe this guest who Cometh in our hour of woe?

      [Enter HERACLES.]

      HERACLES. Ho! sirrah, why that solemn, thoughtful look? ’Tis not the way for servants to scowl on guests, but with courteous soul to welcome them. But thou, seeing a friend of thy master arrive, receivest him with sullen, lowering brow, though ’tis but a stranger that is the object of thy mourning. Come hither, that thou too mayst learn more wisdom. Dost know the nature of this mortal state? I trow not; how shouldst thou? Well, lend an ear to me. Death is the common debt of man; no mortal really knows if he will live to see the morrow’s light; for Fortune’s issues are not in our ken, beyond the teacher’s rule they lie, no art can master them. Hearken then to this and learn of me, be merry, drink thy cup, and count the present day thine own, the rest to Fortune yield. And to Cypris too, sweetest of the gods by far to man, thy tribute pay, for kindly is her mood. Let be those other cares, and heed my counsel if thou think’st I speak aright; methinks I do. Come, banish this excessive grief, and drink a cup with me when thou hast passed beyond these doors and wreathed thy brow; and I feel sure the plash of wine within the cup will bring thee to a better haven from this crabbed mood, this cabined state of mind. Mortals we are, and mortals’ thoughts should have; for all they who frown and scowl do miss—leastways I think so—the true life and get themselves misfortune.

      ATTENDANT. I know all that, but our present state has little claim on revelry or laughter.

      HERACLES. The dead was a stranger woman; grieve not to excess; for the rulers of thy house are living.

      ATTENDANT. How, living? Thou knowest not the trouble in the house.

      HERACLES. I do, unless thy master did in aught deceive me.

      ATTENDANT. Too hospitable is he.

      HERACLES. Was I to miss good cheer because a stranger had died?

      ATTENDANT. A stranger surely! quite a stranger she!

      HERACLES. Is there some trouble that he withheld from me?

      ATTENDANT. Farewell, go thy way! my master’s troubles are my care.

      HERACLES. This word of thine heralds not a grief for strangers felt.

      ATTENDANT. Had it been, the sight of thy merriment had not grieved me so.

      HERACLES. Can it be mine host hath strangely wronged me?

      ATTENDANT. Thou camest at no proper time for our house to welcome thee, for sorrow is come upon us; lo! thou seest our shorn heads and robes of sable hue.

      HERACLES. Who is it that is dead? Is it a child or his aged sire that hath passed away?

      ATTENDANT. Nay, sir guest, ’tis Admetus’ wife that is no more.

      HERACLES. What sayest thou? and did ye then in spite of that admit me to your cheer?

      ATTENDANT. Yes, for his regard would not let him send thee from his door.

      HERACLES. Unhappy husband, what a wife hast thou lost!

      ATTENDANT. We are all undone, not she alone.

      HERACLES. I knew it when I saw his streaming eye, shorn head and downcast look, yet did he persuade me, saying it was a stranger he was bearing to burial. So I did constrain myself and passed his gates and sat drinking in his hospitable halls, when he was suffering thus. And have I wreathed my head and do I revel still? But—thou to hold thy peace when such a crushing sorrow lay upon the house! Where is he burying her? Whither shall I go to find her?

      ATTENDANT. Beside the road that leadeth straight to Larissa, shalt thou see her carved tomb outside the suburb. [Exit.]

      HERACLES. O heart, O soul, both sufferers oft, now show the mettle of that son Tirynthian Alcmena, daughter of Electryon, bare to Zeus. For I must save this woman, dead but now, setting Alcestis once again within this house, and to Admetus this kind service render. So I will go and watch for Death the black-robed monarch of the dead, and him methinks I shall find as he drinks of the blood-offering near the tomb. And if, from ambush rushing, once I catch and fold him in my arms’ embrace, none shall ever wrest him thence with smarting ribs, ere he give up the woman unto me. But should I fail to find my prey and he come not to the clotted blood, I will go to the sunless home of those beneath the earth, to Persephone and her king, and make to them my prayer, sure that I shall bring Alcestis up again, to place her in the hands of him, my host, who welcomed me to his house nor drove me thence, though fortune smote him hard, but this his noble spirit strove to hide out of regard for me. What host more kind than him in Thessaly? or in the homes of Hellas? Wherefore shall he never say his generous deeds were lavished on a worthless wretch. [Exit.]

      [Enter ADMETUS and CHORUS.]

      ADMETUS. Ah me! I loathe this entering in, and loathe to see my widowed home. Woe, woe is me! Whither shall I go? Where stand? what say? or what СКАЧАТЬ