old {1010}
The man who basely lives, who dared not die,
But giving, through the meanness of his soul,
His wife, avoided death--yet would be deem'd
A man: he hates his parents, yet himself
Had not the spirit to die. These ill reports
Cleave to me: why then wish for longer life,
On evil tongues thus fallen, and evil days!

_Admetus sinks down on the threshold and buries his face in his robe.
The Chorus gather up the feeling of the situation in a full Choral Ode,
celebrating the natural topics of consolation; the stern laws of
Necessity, the fair memory of the dead._

CHORAL INTERLUDE IV

_Strophe I_

My venturous foot delights {1018}
To tread the Muses' arduous heights;
Their hallow'd haunts I love t' explore,
And listen to their lore:
Yet never could my searching mind
Aught, like Necessity, resistless find.
No herb of sovereign pow'r to save,
Whose virtues Orpheus joy'd to trace,
And wrote them in the rolls of Thrace;
Nor all that Phoebus gave,
Instructing the Asclepian train,
When various ills the human frame assail,
To heal the wound, to soothe the pain,
'Gainst Her stern force avail.

_Antistrophe I_

Of all the Pow'rs Divine {1032}
Alone none dares t' approach Her shrine;
To Her no hallow'd image stands,
No altar She commands.
In vain the victim's blood would flow,
She never deigns to hear the suppliant's vow.
Never to me mayst Thou appear,
Dread Goddess, with severer mien
Than oft in life's past tranquil scene
Thou hast been known to wear.
By Thee Jove works his stern behest:
Thy force subdues e'en Scythia's stubborn steel;
Nor ever does Thy rugged breast
The touch of pity feel.

_Strophe II_

And now, with ruin pleas'd, {1046}
On thee, O King, her hands have seiz'd,
And bound thee in her iron chain:
Yet her fell force sustain.
For from the gloomy realms of night
No tears recall the dead to life's sweet light.
No virtue, though to heav'n allied,
Saves from the inevitable doom:
Heroes and sons of gods have died,
And sunk into the tomb.