[The body of ALCESTIS is carried into the house by mourners; ADMETUS follows it.]

CHORUS. 
Daughter of Pelias, fare thee well,
  May joy be thine in the Sunless Houses! 
For thine is a deed which the Dead shall tell
  Where a King black-browed in the gloom carouses;
    And the cold grey hand at the helm and oar
    Which guideth shadows from shore to shore,
Shall bear this day o’er the Tears that Well,
  A Queen of women, a spouse of spouses.

Minstrels many shall praise thy name
  With lyre full-strung and with voices lyreless,
When Mid-Moon riseth, an orbed flame,
  And from dusk to dawning the dance is tireless;
    And Carnos cometh to Sparta’s call,
    And Athens shineth in festival;
For thy death is a song, and a fullness of fame,
  Till the heart of the singer is left desireless.

LEADER. 
Would I could reach thee, oh,
  Reach thee and save, my daughter,
Starward from gulfs of Hell,
Past gates, past tears that swell,
Where the weak oar climbs thro’
  The night and the water!

SECOND ELDER. 
Beloved and lonely one,
  Who feared not dying: 
Gone in another’s stead
Alone to the hungry dead: 
Light be the carven stone
  Above thee lying!

THIRD ELDER. 
Oh, he who should seek again
  A new bride after thee,
Were loathed of thy children twain,
  And loathed of me.

LEADER. 
Word to his mother sped,
  Praying to her who bore him;
Word to his father, old,
Heavy with years and cold;
“Quick, ere your son be dead! 
  What dare ye for him?”

SECOND ELDER. 
Old, and they dared not; grey,
  And they helped him never! 
’Twas she, in her youth and pride,
Rose up for her lord and died. 
Oh, love of two hearts that stay
  One-knit for ever....

THIRD ELDER. 
’Tis rare in the world!  God send
  Such bride in my house to be;
She should live life to the end,
  Not fail through me.

[As the song ceases there enters a stranger, walking strongly, but travel-stained, dusty, and tired.  His lion-skin and club show him to be HERACLES.]

HERACLES. 
Ho, countrymen!  To Pherae am I come
By now?  And is Admetus in his home?

LEADER. 
Our King is in his house, Lord Heracles.—­
But say, what need brings thee in days like these
To Thessaly and Pherae’s walled ring?

HERACLES. 
A quest I follow for the Argive King.

LEADER. 
What prize doth call thee, and to what far place?

HERACLES. 
The horses of one Diomede, in Thrace.

LEADER. 
But how...?  Thou know’st not?  Is he strange to thee?

HERACLES. 
Quite strange.  I ne’er set foot in Bistony.

LEADER. 
Not without battle shalt thou win those steeds.

HERACLES. 
So be it!  I cannot fail my master’s needs.