Joy to Admetus, Lord of
Thessaly!
Euripides - Alcestis
HERACLES.
Enough! --This labour fitteth well my large
Fortune, still upward, still against the wind.
How often with these kings of Ares' kind
Must I do battle? First the dark wolf-man,
Lycaon; then 'twas he men called The Swan;
And now this man of steeds! . . . Well, none shall see
Alcmena's son turn from his enemy.
LEADER.
Lo, as we speak, this land's high governor,
Admetus, cometh from his castle door.
_Enter_ ADMETUS _from the Castle_.
ADMETUS.
Zeus-born of Perseid line, all joy to thee!
HERACLES.
Joy to Admetus, Lord of Thessaly!
ADMETUS.
Right welcome were she! --But thy love I know.
HERACLES.
But why this mourning hair, this garb of woe?
ADMETUS (_in a comparatively light tone_).
There is a burial I must make to-day.
HERACLES.
God keep all evil from thy children!
ADMETUS.
Nay,
My children live.
HERACLES.
Thy father, if 'tis he,
Is ripe in years.
ADMETUS.
He liveth, friend, and she
Who bore me.
