Admetus.
Friends, I account the fortune of my wife 935
Happier than mine, albeit it seems not so.
For nought of grief shall touch her any more,
And glorious rest she finds from many toils.
But I, unmeet to live, my doom outrun,
Shall drag out bitter days: I know it now. 940
How shall I bear to enter this mine home?
Speaking to whom, and having speech of whom,
Shall I find joy of entering?—whither turn me?
The solitude within shall drive me forth,
Whenso I see my wife's couch tenantless, 945
And seats whereon she sat, and, 'neath the roof,
All foul the floor; when on my knees my babes
Falling shall weep their mother, servants moan
The peerless mistress from the mansion lost.
All this within: but from the world without 950
Shall bridals of Thessalians chase me: throngs
Where women gossip; for I shall not bear
On those companions of my wife to look.
And, if a foe I have, thus shall he scoff:
"Lo there who basely liveth—dared not die, 955
"But whom he wedded gave, a coward's ransom,
"And 'scaped from Hades. Count ye him a man?
"He hates his parents, though himself was loth
"To die!" Such ill report, besides my griefs,
Shall mine be. Ah, what profit is to live, 960
O friends, in evil fame, in evil plight?
Chorus.
(Str. 1)
I have mused on the words of the wise,
Of the mighty in song;
I have lifted mine heart to the skies,
