Euripides · Alcestis Ἄλκηστις

Euripides, Alcestis 141–212: First episode: the Maid describes Alcestis' last hours

A Maid comes out of the house and tells the Chorus that Alcestis is alive and yet dead. She describes how the queen washed and dressed herself, prayed at the altar-hearth for her children, and wept in the bridal chamber. She says that Admetus holds his dying wife in his arms and begs her not to leave him.

Lines 141–212 · 677 words · click a number to copy its link
Θεράπαινα 141καὶ ζῶσαν εἰπεῖν καὶ θανοῦσαν ἔστι σοι. Χορός καὶ πῶς ἂν αὑτὸς κατθάνοι τε καὶ βλέποι; Θεράπαινα ἤδη προνωπής ἐστι καὶ ψυχορραγεῖ. Χορός ὦ τλῆμον, οἵας οἷος ὢν ἁμαρτάνεις. Θεράπαινα 145οὔπω τόδ’ οἶδε δεσπότης, πρὶν ἂν πάθῃ. Χορός ἐλπὶς μὲν οὐκέτ’ ἐστὶ σῴζεσθαι βίον; Θεράπαινα πεπρωμένη γὰρ ἡμέρα βιάζεται. Χορός οὔκουν ἐπ’ αὐτῇ πράσσεται τὰ πρόσφορα; Θεράπαινα κόσμος γ’ ἕτοιμος, ᾧ σφε συνθάψει πόσις. Χορός 150ἴστω νυν εὐκλεής γε κατθανουμένη γυνή τ’ ἀρίστη τῶν ὑφ’ ἡλίῳ, μακρῷ. Θεράπαινα πῶς δ’ οὐκ ἀρίστη; τίς δ’ ἐναντιώσεται; τί χρὴ γενέσθαι τὴν ὑπερβεβλημένην γυναῖκα; πῶς δ’ ἂν μᾶλλον ἐνδείξαιτό τις 155πόσιν προτιμῶσ’ ἢ θέλουσ’ ὑπερθανεῖν; καὶ ταῦτα μὲν δὴ πᾶσ’ ἐπίσταται πόλις· ἃ δ’ ἐν δόμοις ἔδρασε θαυμάσῃ κλύων. ἐπεὶ γὰρ ᾔσθεθ’ ἡμέραν τὴν κυρίαν ἥκουσαν, ὕδασι ποταμίοις λευκὸν χρόα 160ἐλούσατʼ, ἐκ δ’ ἑλοῦσα κεδρίνων δόμων ἐσθῆτα κόσμον τ’ εὐπρεπῶς ἠσκήσατο, καὶ στᾶσα πρόσθεν Ἑστίας κατηύξατο· Δέσποινʼ, ἐγὼ γὰρ ἔρχομαι κατὰ χθονός, πανύστατόν σε προσπίτνουσ’ αἰτήσομαι, 165τέκν’ ὀρφανεῦσαι τἀμά· καὶ τῷ μὲν φίλην σύζευξον ἄλοχον, τῇ δὲ γενναῖον πόσιν. μηδ’ ὥσπερ αὐτῶν ἡ τεκοῦσ’ ἀπόλλυμαι θανεῖν ἀώρους παῖδας, ἀλλ’ εὐδαίμονας ἐν γῇ πατρῴᾳ τερπνὸν ἐκπλῆσαι βίον. 170πάντας δὲ βωμούς, οἳ κατ’ Ἀδμήτου δόμους, προσῆλθε κἀξέστεψε καὶ προσηύξατο, πτόρθων ἀποσχίζουσα μυρσίνης φόβην, ἄκλαυτος ἀστένακτος, οὐδὲ τοὐπιὸν κακὸν μεθίστη χρωτὸς εὐειδῆ φύσιν. 175κἄπειτα θάλαμον ἐσπεσοῦσα καὶ λέχος, ἐνταῦθα δὴ ʼδάκρυσε καὶ λέγει τάδε· Ὦ λέκτρον, ἔνθα παρθένει’ ἔλυσ’ ἐγὼ κορεύματ’ ἐκ τοῦδ’ ἀνδρός, οὗ θνῄσκω πέρι, χαῖρʼ· οὐ γὰρ ἐχθαίρω σʼ· ἀπώλεσας δ’ ἐμὲ 180μόνην· προδοῦναι γάρ σ’ ὀκνοῦσα καὶ πόσιν θνῄσκω. σὲ δ’ ἄλλη τις γυνὴ κεκτήσεται, σώφρων μὲν οὐκ ἂν μᾶλλον, εὐτυχὴς δ’ ἴσως. κυνεῖ δὲ προσπίτνουσα, πᾶν δὲ δέμνιον ὀφθαλμοτέγκτῳ δεύεται πλημμυρίδι. 185ἐπεὶ δὲ πολλῶν δακρύων εἶχεν κόρον, στείχει προνωπὴς ἐκπεσοῦσα δεμνίων, καὶ πολλὰ θαλάμων ἐξιοῦσ’ ἐπεστράφη κἄρριψεν αὑτὴν αὖθις ἐς κοίτην πάλιν. παῖδες δὲ πέπλων μητρὸς ἐξηρτημένοι 190ἔκλαιον· ἣ δὲ λαμβάνουσ’ ἐς ἀγκάλας ἠσπάζετ’ ἄλλοτ’ ἄλλον, ὡς θανουμένη. πάντες δ’ ἔκλαιον οἰκέται κατὰ στέγας δέσποιναν οἰκτίροντες. ἣ δὲ δεξιὰν προύτειν’ ἑκάστῳ, κοὔτις ἦν οὕτω κακὸς 195ὃν οὐ προσεῖπε καὶ προσερρήθη πάλιν. τοιαῦτ’ ἐν οἴκοις ἐστὶν Ἀδμήτου κακά. καὶ κατθανών τἂν ὤλετʼ, ἐκφυγών δ’ ἔχει τοσοῦτον ἄλγος, οὗ ποτ’—οὐ λελήσεται. Χορός ἦ που στενάζει τοισίδ’ Ἄδμητος κακοῖς, 200ἐσθλῆς γυναικὸς εἰ στερηθῆναί σφε χρή; Θεράπαινα κλαίει γ’ ἄκοιτιν ἐν χεροῖν φίλην ἔχων, καὶ μὴ προδοῦναι λίσσεται, τἀμήχανα ζητῶν· φθίνει γὰρ καὶ μαραίνεται νόσῳ. παρειμένη δέ, χειρὸς ἄθλιον βάρος […] 205ὅμως δὲ καίπερ σμικρὸν ἐμπνέουσ’ ἔτι βλέψαι πρὸς αὐγὰς βούλεται τὰς ἡλίου ὡς οὔποτ’ αὖθις, ἀλλὰ νῦν πανύστατον. ἀλλ’ εἶμι καὶ σὴν ἀγγελῶ παρουσίαν· 210οὐ γάρ τι πάντες εὖ φρονοῦσι κοιράνοις, ὥστ’ ἐν κακοῖσιν εὐμενεῖς παρεστάναι· σὺ δ’ εἶ παλαιὸς δεσπόταις ἐμοῖς φίλος.

Maid Alive, yet dead thou may’st call her.

Chorus Why, how can the same person be alive, yet dead?

Maid She is sinking even now, and at her last gasp.

Chorus My poor master! how sad thy lot to lose so good a wife!

Maid He did not know his loss, until the blow fell on him.

Chorus Is there then no more a hope of saving her?

Maid None; the fated day comes on so fast.

Chorus Are then the fitting rites already taking place o’er her body?

Maid Death’s garniture is ready, wherewith her lord will bury her.

Chorus Well let her know, though die she must, her fame ranks far above any other wife’s beneath the sun.

Maid Far above! of course it does; who will gainsay it? What must the woman be who hath surpassed her? For how could any wife have shown a clearer regard for her lord than by offering in his stead to die? Thus much the whole city knows right well; but thou shalt hear with wonder what she did within the house. For when she knew the fatal day was come, she washed her fair white skin with water from the stream, then from her cedar chests drew forth vesture and ornaments and robed herself becomingly; next, standing before the altar-hearth, she prayed, Mistress mine, behold! I pass beneath the earth; to thee in suppliant wise will I my latest prayer address; be mother to my orphans, and to my boy unite a loving bride, to my daughter a noble husband. Let them not die, as I, their mother, perish now, untimely in their youth, but let them live their glad lives out, happy in their native land. To every altar in Admetus’ halls she went and crowned them and prayed, plucking from myrtle boughs their foliage, with never a tear or groan, nor did her coming trouble change the colour of her comely face. Anon into her bridal bower she burst, and then her tears brake forth and thus she cried, O couch, whereon I loosed my maiden state for the man in whose cause I die, farewell! no hate I feel for thee; for me alone hast thou undone, dying as I die from fear of betraying thee and my lord. Some other wife will make thee hers, more blest maybe than me, but not more chaste. And she fell upon her knees and kissed it, till with her gushing tears the whole bed was wet. At last, when she had had her fill of weeping, she tore herself from the bed and hurried headlong forth, and oft as she was leaving the chamber turned she back and cast herself once more upon the couch; while her children were weeping as they clung to their mother’s robes; but she took them each in turn in her arms and kissed them fondly, as a dying mother might. And all the servants in the house fell a-crying in sorrow for their mistress; but she held out her hand to each, nor was there one so mean but she gave him a word and took his answer back. Such are the sorrows in the halls of Admetus. Dying he had died once for all, but by avoiding death he hath a legacy of grief that he will ne’er forget.

Chorus Doubtless Admetus sorrows in this calamity, if he must lose so good a wife.

Maid Ah yes! he weeps, holding in his arms his darling wife, and prays her not to leave him, impossible request! for she is worn and wasted with illness, and lies exhausted, a sad burden in his arms. Still, though her breath comes short and scant, she yearns to gaze yet on the sunshine, for nevermore, but now the last and latest time her eye shall see his radiant orb. But I will go, thy presence to announce, for ’tis not all who have the goodwill to stand by their masters with kindly hearts in adversity. But thou of old hast been my master’s friend.

People and places in this passage

English translation by Edward P. Coleridge (1891). Original text: Greek text: Gilbert Murray (ed.), Euripidis Fabulae, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1902, as digitised by Perseus. English: Edward P. Coleridge, The Plays of Euripides, London: George Bell and Sons, first published 1891 (Bohn's Classical Library; the Perseus header records a later printing).

Greek text and translation from the Perseus Digital Library, Tufts University, CC BY-SA 4.0 (Perseus Digital Library); translation public domain. Introductions, summaries and notes © GreekMythology.com.