I have now known many guests, and from all parts of the earth that have
come to the house of Admetus, to whom I have spread the feast, but never
yet did I receive into this house a worse one than this stranger. Who, in
the first place, indeed, though he saw my master in affliction, came in,
and prevailed upon himself to pass the gates. And then not at all in a
modest manner received he the entertainment that there happened to be, when
he heard of the calamity: but if we did not bring any thing, he hurried us
to bring it. And having taken in his hands the cup wreathed with ivy,[40]
he quaffs the neat wine of the purple mother, until the fumes of the liquor
coming upon him inflamed him; and he crowns his head with branches of
myrtles howling discordantly; and there were two strains to hear; for he
was singing, not caring at all for the afflictions of Admetus, but we the
domestics, were bewailing our mistress, and we showed not that we were
weeping to the guest, for thus Admetus commanded. And now indeed I am
performing the offices of hospitality to the stranger in the house, some
deceitful thief and robber. But she is gone from the house, nor did I
follow, nor stretched out my hand in lamentation for my mistress, who was a
mother to me, and to all the domestics, for she saved us from ten thousand
ills, softening the anger of her husband. Do I not then justly hate this
stranger, who is come in our miseries?