_Return of the Funeral Procession, headed by the Chorus who remain in
the Orchestra; the rest file up the steps onto the stage, Admetus last.
The Episode is technically a 'Dirge' between Admetus, whose speeches
fall into the rhythm of a Funeral March, and the Chorus, who speak in
Strophes and Antistrophes of more elaborate lyric rhythm, often
interrupted by the wails of Admetus._
_Admetus reaching the top of the Steps from the Orchestra stands face
to face with the splendid facade of his Palace_. Hateful entrance,
hateful aspect of a widowed home! How find rest there, in the heavy
woes to which he is now doomed? It is with the dead that rest is
found: his heart is in their dark houses, where he has placed a loved
hostage torn from him by fate! {931}
_Chorus_ [_in Strophe_]. Nevertheless he must go forward; he must hide
him in the deepest recesses of his Palace with his grief, the helpless
groans that yet will nothing aid her whom he will never see more! {938}
_Admetus_ cries that that is the deepest wound of all! Would he had
never wedded! To mourn single is pain endurable; to see children
wasting with disease, to see death invading the nuptial bed--that is
the pang unbearable! {950}
_Chorus_ [_in Antistrophe_]. Fate is resistless: shall sorrow then
have no bounds? Other men have known what it is to lose a wife: and in
one or other of innumerable forms misery has found out every son of
mortality. {956}
_Admetus_ begins to speak of the life-long mourning for the lost--but
the thought is too much for him; why did they hold him back when he
would have cast himself into the gaping tomb, and gone the last journey
with his love? {963}
_The Chorus_ [_in Strophe_] think of one they knew who lost a son in
the flower of his age, an only son and well worthy of tears: yet he
bore his lonely burden like a man, and--courage! his hair is white and
he is nearing the end. {969}
_Admetus moves a few steps forward and the Procession, advances towards
the portal_: but the contrast catches his thought between this and
another procession towards the same threshold, when, amidst blazing
torches of Pelian pine and bridal dances, he led his new wife by the
hand, and shouts wished their union happy. Now wails for shouts, black
for glistening raiment, and before him the solitary chamber! {983}
_Chorus_ [_in Antistrophe_]. Trouble has come upon their master all at
once, in the midst of prosperity, and on one unschooled in misfortune.
But if the wife is gone the love is left. Many have had Admetus's
loss: but his gain let him remember: a rescued life. {988}
As if this jarred upon his mind, _Admetus_ turns round and addresses
the Chorus, his whole tone changed [_the dirge measures giving place to
blank verse_].
_Adm._ My friends, I deem the fortune of my wife
Happier than mine, though otherwise it seems. {990}
For nevermore shall sorrow touch her breast,
And she with glory rests from various ills.
But I, who ought not live, my destined hour
O'erpassing, shall drag on a mournful life,
Late taught what sorrow is. How shall I bear
To enter here? To whom shall I address
My speech? Whose greeting renders my return
Delightful? Which way shall I turn? Within
In lonely sorrow shall I waste away,
As, widowed of my wife, I see my couch, {1000}
The seats deserted where she sat, the rooms
Wanting her elegance. Around my knees
My children hang, and weep their mother lost:
The household servants for their mistress sigh.
This is the scene of misery in my home:
Abroad the nuptials of Thessalia's youth
And the bright circles of assembled dames
Will but augment my grief: how shall I bear
To see the lov'd companions of my wife!
And if one hates me, he will say: Behold {1010}
The man who basely lives, who dared not die,
But giving, through the meanness of his soul,
His wife, avoided death--yet would be deem'd
A man: he hates his parents, yet himself
Had not the spirit to die. These ill reports
Cleave to me: why then wish for longer life,
On evil tongues thus fallen, and evil days!
_Admetus sinks down on the threshold and buries his face in his robe.
The Chorus gather up the feeling of the situation in a full Choral Ode,
celebrating the natural topics of consolation; the stern laws of
Necessity, the fair memory of the dead._