Is worthy of Admetus. I descend
To the dim shadowy regions of the dead
A guest more honour'd.
****
Alc. In thy presence here
Again I utter the tremendous vow,
Now more than half fulfilled. I feel, I know
Its dread effects. Through all my burning veins
Th' insatiate fever revels. Doubt is o'er.
The Monarch of the Dead hath heard—he calls,
He summons me away—and thou art sav'd,
O my Admetus!
In the opening of the third act, Alcestis enters, with her son Eumeles, and her daughter, to complete the sacrifice by dying at the feet of Proserpine's statue. The following scene ensues between her and Admetus.
Alc. Here, O my faithful handmaids! at the feet
Of Proserpine's dread image spread my couch,
For I myself e'en now must offer here
The victim she requires. And you, meanwhile,
My children! seek your sire. Behold him there,
Sad, silent, and alone. But through his veins
Health's genial current flows once more, as free
As in his brightest days: and he shall live,
Shall live for you. Go, hang upon his neck,
And with your innocent encircling arms
Twine round him fondly.
Eum. Can it be indeed,
Father, lov'd father! that we see thee thus
Restored? What joy is ours!
Adm. There is no joy!
Speak not of joy! away, away! my grief
Is wild and desperate; cling to me no more!
I know not of affection, and I feel
No more a father.
Eum. Oh! what words are these?
Are we no more thy children? Are we not
Thine own? Sweet sister! twine around his neck
More close; he must return the fond embrace.
Adm. O children! O my children! to my soul
Your innocent words and kisses are as darts,
That pierce it to the quick. I can no more
Sustain the bitter conflict. Every sound
Of your soft accents but too well recals
The voice which was the music of my life.
Alcestis! my Alcestis!—was she not
Of all her sex the flower? Was woman e'er
