Alcestis – Monologue (Alcestis)

A monologue from the play by Euripides


(recovering herself)
Admetus, you see the things I suffer; and now before I die I mean to tell you what I wish.

To show you honour and-at the cost of my life-that you may still behold the light, I die; and yet I might have lived and wedded any in Thessaly I chose, and dwelt with happiness in a royal home.

But, torn from you, I would not live with fatherless children, nor have I hoarded up those gifts of youth in which I found delight.

Yet he who begot you, she who brought you forth, abandoned you when it had been beautiful in them to die, beautiful to die with dignity to save their son!

They had no child but you, no hope if you were dead that other children might be born to them.

Thus I should have lived my life out, and you too, and you would not lament as now, made solitary from your wife, that you must rear our children motherless!

But these things are a God’s doing and are thus. Well! Do not forget this gift, for I shall ask-not a recompense,

since nothing is more precious than life, but-only what is just, as you yourself will say, since if you have not lost your senses you must love these children no less than I.

Let them be masters in my house; marry not again, and set a stepmother over them, a woman harsher than I,

who in her jealousy will lift her hand against my children and yours. Ah! not this, let not this be, I entreat you!

The new stepmother hates the first wife’s children, the viper itself is not more cruel.

The son indeed finds a strong rampart in his father-but you, my daughter, how shall you live your virgin life out in happiness?

How will you fare with your father’s new wife? Ah! Let her not cast evil report upon you and thus wreck your marriage in the height of your youth!

You will have no mother, O my child, to give you in marriage, to comfort you in childbed when none is tenderer than a mother!

And I must die. Not to-morrow. nor to-morrow’s morrow comes this misfortune on me, but even now I shall be named with those that are no more.

Farewell! Live happy! You, my husband, may boast you had the best of wives; and you, my children, that you lost the best of mothers!
(She falls back.)

Read the play here

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