ALCESTIS.
41
Herakles.
A stranger dead—and no guest-cheer for me? 810
Servant.
O yea, an alien she—o'ermuch an alien!
Herakles.
Ha! was he keeping some affliction back?
Servant.
Go thou in peace: our lords' ills are for us.
Herakles.
Grief for a stranger such talk heralds not.
Servant.
Else had I not sore vexed beheld thy revelling. 815
Herakles.
How! have I sorry handling of mine hosts?
Servant.
Thou cam'st in hour unmeet for welcoming,
For grief is on us; and thou see'st shorn hair
And vesture of black robes.
Herakles.
But who hath died?
Not of the children one, or grey-haired sire? 820
Servant.
Nay, but Admetus' wife is dead, O guest.
