Be tearless: add not hurt unto mine hurt.
Burdened enough am I by mine affliction.
Nay, in mine house where should a young maid lodge?
For vesture and adorning speak her young:— 1050
What, 'neath the men's roof shall her lodging be?
And how unsullied, dwelling with young men?
Not easy is it, Herakles, to curb
The young: herein do I take thought for thee.
Or shall I ope to her my dead wife's bower? 1055
How!—cause her to usurp my lost love's bed?
Twofold reproach I dread—from mine own folk,
Lest one should say that, traitor to her kindness,
I fall upon another woman's bed,—
And of the dead, to me most reverence-worthy, 1060
Needs must I take great heed. But, woman, thou,
Whoso thou art, know that thy body's stature
Is as Alcestis, and thy form as hers.
Ah me!—lead, for the Gods' sake, from my sight
This woman!—Take not my captivity captive. 1065
For, as I look on her, methinks I see
My wife: she stirs mine heart with turmoil: fountains
Of tears burst from mine eyes. O wretched I!
Now first I taste this grief's full bitterness.
Chorus.
In sooth thy fortune can I not commend: 1070
Yet must we brook a God's gift, whoso cometh.
Herakles.
O that such might I had as back to bring
To light thy wife from nethergloom abodes,
And to bestow this kindness upon thee!
