my bridal bed, on which I will fall, and clasping my hands around, calling on thy name, shall fancy that I hold my dear wife in mine arms, though holding her not:[22] a cold delight, I ween; but still I may draw off the weight that sits upon my soul:  and in my dreams visiting me, thou mayst delight me, for a friend is sweet even to behold at night, for whatever time he may come.  But if the tongue of Orpheus and his strain were mine, so that invoking with hymns the daughter of Ceres or her husband, I could receive thee from the shades below, I would descend, and neither the dog of Pluto, nor Charon at his oar, the ferryman of departed spirits, should stay me before I brought thy life to the light.  But there expect me when I die and prepare a mansion for me, as about to dwell with me.  For I will enjoin these[23] to place me in the same cedar with thee, and to lay my side near thy side:  for not even when dead may I be separated from thee, the only faithful one to me!

CHOR.  And I indeed with thee, as a friend with a friend, will bear this painful grief for her, for she is worthy.

ALC.  My children, ye indeed hear your father saying that he will never marry another wife to be over you, nor dishonor me.

ADM.  And now too, I say this, and will perform it

ALC.  For this receive these children from my hand.

ADM.  Yes, I receive a dear gift from a dear hand.

ALC.  Be thou then a mother to these children in my stead.

ADM.  There is much need that I should, when they are deprived of thee.

ALC.  O my children, at a time when I ought to live I depart beneath.

ADM.  Ah me; what shall I do of thee bereaved!

ALC.  Time will soften thy grief:  he that is dead is nothing.

ADM.  Take me with thee, by the Gods take me beneath.

ALC.  Enough are we to go, who die for thee.

ADM.  O fate, of what a wife thou deprivest me!

ALC.  And lo! my darkening eye is weighed down.

ADM.  I am undone then, if thou wilt leave me, my wife.

ALC.  As being no more, you may speak of me as nothing.

ADM.  Lift up thy face; do not leave thy children.

ALC.  Not willingly in sooth, but—­farewell, my children.

ADM.  Look on them, O! look.

ALC.  I am no more.

ADM.  What dost thou? dost thou leave us?

ALC.  Farewell!

ADM.  I am an undone wretch!

CHOR.  She is gone, Admetus’ wife is no more.

EUM.  Alas me, for my state! my mother is gone indeed below; she is no longer, my father, under the sun; but unhappy leaving me has made my life an orphan’s.  For look, look at her eyelid, and her nerveless arms.  Hear, hear, O mother.  I beseech thee; I, I now call thee, mother, thy young one falling on thy mouth—­

ADM.  Who hears not, neither sees:  so that I and you are struck with a heavy calamity.