No More Learning

Be old and childless--ye have earned your fate--
While your son lives! For never shall ye be
From henceforth under the same roof with me. . . .
Must I send heralds and a trumpet's call
To abjure thy blood? Fear not, I will send them all. . . .

[PHERES _is now out of sight;_ ADMETUS _drops his defiance and
seems like a broken man. _]

But we--our sorrow is upon us; come
With me, and let us bear her to the tomb.

CHORUS.
Ah me!
Farewell, unfalteringly brave!
Farewell, thou generous heart and true!
May Pluto give thee welcome due,
And Hermes love thee in the grave.
Whate'er of blessed life there be
For high souls to the darkness flown,
Be thine for ever, and a throne
Beside the crowned Persephone.

[_The funeral procession has formed and moves slowly out, followed
by_ ADMETUS _and the_ CHORUS. _The stage is left empty, till a
side door of the Castle opens and there comes out a_ SERVANT, _angry
and almost in tears. _]

SERVANT.
Full many a stranger and from many a land
Hath lodged in this old castle, and my hand
Served them; but never has there passed this way
A scurvier ruffian than our guest to-day.
He saw my master's grief, but all the more
In he must come, and shoulders through the door.
And after, think you he would mannerly
Take what was set before him? No, not he!
If, on this day of trouble, we left out
Some small thing, he must have it with a shout.
Up, in both hands, our vat of ivy-wood
He raised, and drank the dark grape's burning blood,
Strong and untempered, till the fire was red
Within him; then put myrtle round his head
And roared some noisy song. So had we there
Discordant music. He, without a care
For all the affliction of Admetus' halls,
Sang on; and, listening, one could hear the thralls
In the long gallery weeping for the dead.
We let him see no tears. Our master made
That order, that the stranger must not know.