Admetus:
Dishonoured thou shalt die when death shall come.
Pheres:
Once dead, I shall not care what tales are told.
Admetus:
Great Gods, so lost to honour and so old!
Pheres:
She was not lost to honour: she was blind.
Admetus:
Go! Leave me with my dead.... Out from my mind!
Pheres:
I go. Bury the woman thou hast slain....
Her kinsmen yet may come to thee with plain
Question. Acastus hath small place in good
Men, if he care not for his sister's blood.
[Pheres goes off, with his Attendants. Admetus calls after him as he goes.]
Admetus:
Begone, begone, thou and thy bitter mate!
Be old and childless--ye have earned your fate--
While your son lives! For never shall ye be
From henceforth under the same roof with me....
Must I send heralds and a trumpet's call
To abjure thy blood? Fear not, I will send them all....
[Pheres is now out of sight; Admetus drops his defiance and seems like a broken man.]
But we--our sorrow is upon us; come
With me, and let us bear her to the tomb.
Studies
