ALCESTIS.
Enter Apollo.
Apollo.
Halls of Admetus, where I stooped my pride
To brook the fare of serfs, yea I, a God;—
The fault was fault of Zeus: he slew my son
Asklêpius—hurled the levin through his heart.
Wroth for the dead, his smiths of heavenly fire5
I slew, the Cyclopes; and, for blood-atonement,
Serf to a mortal man my father made me.
To this land came I, tended mine host's kine,
And warded still his house unto this day.
Righteous myself, I lighted on the righteous,10
The son of Pheres: him I snatched from death,
Cozening the Fates: to me the Sisters pledged them
That imminent death Admetus should escape
If he for ransom gave another life.
To all he went—all near and dear,—and asked15
Grey sire, the mother that had given him life;
But, save his wife, found none that would consent
For him to die and never more see light.
Now in his arms upborne within yon home
She gaspeth forth her life: for on this day20
