Her weird it is to die and part from life.
I, lest pollution taint me in their house,
Go forth of yonder hall’s belovèd roof.[Enter Death.
Lo, yonder Death!—I see him nigh at hand,
Priest of the dead, who comes to hale her down25
To Hades’ halls—well hath he kept his time,
Watching this day, whereon she needs must die.
Death.
Ha, thou at the palace!—Wilt not make room,
Phœbus?—thou wrestest the right yet again.
Thou removest the landmarks of Gods of Gloom.30
And thou makest their honours vain.
Did this not suffice thee, to thwart that doom
Of Admetus, when, all by thy cunning beguiled
Were the Fates, that thou now must be warding the wife
With thine hand made ready the bowstring to strain,35
Though she pledged her from death to redeem with her life
Her lord,—she, Pelias’ child?
Apollo.
Fear not: fair words and justice are with me.
Death.
Justice with thee!—what needeth then the bow?
Apollo.
This?—’tis my wont to bear it evermore.40
Death.
Yea, and to aid yon house in lawless wise.
