ALCESTIS.
27
Admetus.
Hale?—Would I were! Yet thy good heart I know.
Herakles.
Wherefore for mourning shaven show'st thou thus?
Admetus.
This day must I commit to earth a corpse.
Herakles.
Now heaven forefend thou mourn'st for children dead!
Admetus.
In mine home live the babes whom I begat. 515
Herakles.
Sooth, death-ripe were thy sire, if he be gone.
Admetus.
He liveth, and my mother, Herakles.
Herakles.
Surely, O surely, not thy wife, Admetus?
Admetus.
Twofold must be mine answer touching her.
Herakles.
Or hath she died, say'st thou, or liveth yet? 520
Admetus.
She is, and she is not: here lies my sorrow.
