Alcestis to her husband, just before
with his tearful approbation, she dies
in order that he may live.

Admetus, from my marrow's core I do 
Despise you: wherefrom pity not your wife, 
Who, having seen expire her love for you 
With heaviest grief, today gives up her life. 
You could not with your mind imagine this: 
One might surrender, yet continue proud. 
Not having loved, you do not know: the kiss 
You sadly beg, is impious, not allowed. 
Of all I loved, - how many girls and men 
Have loved me in return? – speak! – young or old – 
Speak! – sleek or famished, can you find me then 
One form would flank me, as this night grows cold? 
I am at peace, Admetus – go and slake 
Your grief with wine. I die for my own sake.