The Death of Alcestis

THE DEATH OF ALCESTIS


Scene 1


Olympos. A marble platform before the palace of the gods. Towards the right, a few steps descend from the platform edge, beyond which is empty air – empty of all except one dark cloud which is hovering close by.
    The god WOTAN is standing near the platform edge, being farewelled by ZEUS, APOLLO, and ARTEMIS. Wotan is shaggily dressed in the Northern fashion, with a hat pulled down over one eye. In one hand he holds a great spear, in the other a gleaming black ball with a spark of fire at its centre. He is looking mainly at Zeus, who stands close before him; Apollo and Artemis are a little further away, looking at their father Zeus and his guest. Zeus is dark haired, dark bearded, with heavy brows. Apollo is blond and perfect, like a handsome young man of about twenty. Artemis, his twin sister, is also beautiful, but her hair and her eyes are black. Both Apollo and Artemis are equipped with bows and quivers of arrows.


ZEUS:    Guest from the North, All-father of the icy lands, we are grateful for your long journey, your visit, and the councils you have held with me. Yet much that you have told me troubles me. It seems you too have your Fates, stronger than all gods. And as grim as our Fates, who sometimes overrule us, decreeing which mortals may live, and which must die. But your Norns go further than our Fates: they condemn, it seems, the whole world?

WOTAN:   Ay, All-father of Hellas. This world must perish at last, by fire or by eternal winter, and with it must perish not only all men, but all gods.

ZEUS:    That is hard to believe.

WOTAN:   Believe it. We did not create the world: the beginning is a mystery, even to gods. We seem ageless and ever powerful, and you southern gods live always in the sun. But we in the north are acquainted with darker things. Our Norns do not lie. All things to end are made.

APOLLO: [coming forward] Lord Wotan, if this is so, does it not make all existence pointless?

WOTAN:   The point is to resist. It is by courage alone that men and gods are justified. Courage and Love.

ARTEMIS:   Love, lord Wotan? [She laughs bitterly.]  That is the kind of thing our half-sister Aphrodite might say. She does not convince me.

WOTAN:   I do not mean that kind of love. Coupling justifies nothing: it merely continues life, until the End. But to reach beyond the End, to defy the End – that requires the love that joins with courage in the place of battle. (And all life is the place of battle.) Our northern men understand this well. One of them, an old warrior, died for love of his lord, a lord who already lay dead on the place of slaughter. And the old warrior said: “Thought shall be harder, heart the keener, courage the greater, as our strength lessens…” And then he stayed, on the lost battlefield, to be killed beside his dear dead lord.
    I am come to tell you these things, gods of Hellas, so that you may know how one can overcome even the end of all things. By loving courage, by courageous love. But perhaps you have already seen in your own lands, how one man, or one woman, will overcome by willingly dying, for the love of another.

ZEUS:    I have not seen that, in Hellas.

WOTAN:   Put it then to the test. Here, my host: take this ball, the Orb of Fate. [He hands it over: the red spark in its centre gleams brighter.]

ZEUS:    What is this? It is I who should give you things.

WOTAN:   I want nothing. I am the Wanderer, who travels light. But you now, accept this parting gift. It is the only gift I ever received from my Fates, the Norns. The grim sisters told me, it will save a life otherwise doomed to perish. It will also kill one not doomed to perish. Its red gleam of power will last for one year. In that time, it can do almost anything. You can use it to test some mortal’s love – to see if one will die for another. I myself do not want to keep it, for I do not need to make this trial. I know what men in the North are capable of. Use it, then, among your Southern folk. See if one will die for another. And now, farewell!

    [Wotan turns, and shakes his spear. The dark cloud comes to his feet, he walks into it, and disappears. The cloud moves off, and is lost in the northern distance.]

ZEUS:    What a terrible god! And what a terrible gift this is, that he has given me! I am used to handling lightnings, but I do not like holding this thing.

ARTEMIS:   Father, give it to me. I will hold it. I am used to dealing out death.

ZEUS:    [handing it to her]  Ah yes, my grim daughter – Huntress, Killer of Beasts, Killer of Women. Well, whom do you want to kill with this?

ARTEMIS:   I do not need this to kill. My black arrows are deadly enough. But are we to do some killing now, at all? I think this test is unnecessary. One die for another? I see that happening every day, among my beasts. Most mother animals will die to save their cubs, from lions or hunters. They do it in a moment, they throw themselves forward onto the spears.

ZEUS:   The question is not about beasts, nor about sudden motions of instinct. In moments of passion, of course that happens. But among humans – mature, adult humans – will one die for another? Especially if they are given time to appraise the situation, and weigh the consequences?

APOLLO:   Father, I can answer that already. The answer is Yes. You know, thirty years ago, I made the queen of Pherai, Alcestis, immortal for one year, at the request of her husband, King Admetos. And it made Admetos unhappy – there was nothing he could do for her, he could hardly cherish her, because she was immune from every ill. I explained that to Alcestis. And then, she took her mortality back, to make her husband happy. I told her she was choosing Death; and she said yes, she knew that. And still she took on Death, for the sake of her man.

ARTEMIS:   I know that story. But Alcestis did not really take on death, brother, not imminent painful death. She took on only a distant prospect of it. These mortals do not have a vivid grasp of the distant future. Go, present Alcestis now with the choice of imminent death, painful death, and let us see what will happen. She and her husband are now middle-aged, not young lovers. Would Alcestis now agree to die, at once, to save her man? Would any mortal human do that?

ZEUS:    Perhaps, perhaps not. Well, this Orb gives us power to arrange such things – and Admetos and Alcestis seem excellent subjects for the experiment. And you two are the ideal ones to handle the details. You, Apollo, are the Slayer of Men – especially with your arrows of disease – and you are also the Healer. You can half-kill Admetos, and then save him again. And you, Artemis, Slayer of Women – you can kill Alcestis, if she accepts, either mercifully or painfully. Both of you, go down to Pherai –

APOLLO:   Father, I protest. Alcestis has suffered enough already, at my hands. Could we not shift this trial to someone else?

ZEUS:    But they are a good family, noble. A bad, ignoble family would be useless. Everyone of that kind would surely say: No, let him die, not me! I pronounce my verdict – yes, the royal family of Pherai.

APOLLO:   But not necessarily Alcestis. They have two grown children now – the young man Eumelos and the lady Erinna. We could offer them the same choice: strike their father with a mortal illness, then appear to the son and daughter. Either of them might agree to die in place of their father.

ZEUS:    Very well…

APOLLO:   And I don’t see why we shouldn’t test Admetos a bit, too.

ZEUS:    Not in the same way. Once he is really sick, he might want to die just to be released from pain. Think of something else for him. But go to the children, Erinna and Eumelos. And then, if both refuse, go to Alcestis. If even one mortal accepts, it will prove that our Hellene subjects are quite as good as those northerners.

APOLLO:   And if one accepts, are we to actually carry out this killing?

ARTEMIS:   I think we should. For the choice to be real, the one who says Yes must really suffer it. I suggest a slow, painful death. It will be interesting to see if the one who accepts at first will continue to accept, after the pains begin. There must be torment: at least for some hours.

ZEUS:    Artemis, this is really ruthless of you!

ARTEMIS:   That is my function, Father. My arrows are for killing, and nothing else. I am not a Healer like my brother. And I do not always kill quickly. Well, shall it be so?

ZEUS:    Yes. It shall be as Artemis has devised. First you, Apollo, strike down Admetos with a lingering disease. Then you two go the rounds of the family. You, Apollo, may have to kill the young man. Artemis – you, either of the women. And if any accepts and begins to die, you, Apollo, will instantly heal Admetos.

APOLLO:   I – I will do this, Father – on one condition.

ZEUS:    Condition? You would make conditions with Me?

APOLLO:   Yes; for you are also the god of Justice. My condition is: you lend me that potent Orb, to keep in my quiver. I may need special effects, unusual powers, and I think this Orb of Fate will give those. Give it to me, and I will start tormenting.

ZEUS:    Very well. Artemis, hand it over.  [Artemis hands the Ball to Apollo, who stows it away.]

APOLLO:   I suppose there is no more to be said. I hope these horrors will prove that Love and Courage do justify the universe. Come now, sister.

   [Apollo and Artemis move to the steps on the edge of the platform. Apollo draws his bow, and with a grey arrow aims down at Pherai, in Hellas.]

APOLLO:   This will begin it – it will smite Admetos. [He shoots. Both Apollo and Artemis jump off the steps, and disappear.]

ZEUS:    I hope Wotan is right, that courage is stronger than death. I hope he is wrong, that we too must end. Well, now, I feel a need for some nectar…

[Exit, into his palace.]


Scene 2

Pherai. The forecourt and garden of the royal palace, with the palace building on the right, and dark trees in the background and at left. Out of the palace, over the flagstones of the forecourt, servants are carrying a bed, on which lies the King, ADMETOS. He is a man in his fifties, with grizzled hair and short beard; he is very pale, and from time to time he utters half-suppressed groans. Accompanying the bed are MYRTIS, an old woman-servant; MACHAON, a physician; and ALCESTIS, Queen of Pherai. Alcestis is in her forties, her hair black with little threads of grey. She is still beautiful. She wears a simple blue tunic, and no jewels except one sapphire on a cord round her throat: the blue stone matches the blue of her eyes. She looks constantly at Admetos, leans over him, strokes his brow. She is fighting back tears.

ADMETOS:   I feel – ah! that was bad – I feel cold.

ALCESTIS:  Move him into the sun.

   [The servants place the bed closer to the garden. Sunlight falls on the whole group of people. It is a fine forenoon in early autumn.]

MYRTIS:   Oh the gods, the gods! Dear master! Is there no help for him, my lord doctor?

MACHAON: [stroking his beard]  We are doing for him all that medical art can do. I have given him simples to relieve the pain.  They are working.

ALCESTIS:  My love, my love! [She kisses him on the forehead.]

ADMETOS: [trying to smile]  It feels a little better when you do that, my darling. The best simple in the world.

   [Alcestis kisses him fervently. Then she takes Machaon aside, into the garden.]

ALCESTIS:   Machaon, son of Asclepios, is there really no hope?

MACHAON:   Lady, if I thought comforting lies would help you –

ALCESTIS:   No lies. The plain truth.

MACHAON:   I have consulted with my brother Podaleirios. He agrees with me. The sad truth is, your husband has cancer. Of the stomach. He cannot live more than another six months. All I can do is, try to control his pain.

ALCESTIS:   Oh the gods, if only I could have the pain instead of him! Apollo, Healer, Helper, our old friend, where is your help?

   [At this moment, there emerge from the trees two hooded figures, in long grey tunics and cloaks. Alcestis, surprised, turns to them.]

ALCESTIS:   Who – who are you?

   [Apollo flings back his hood, uncovering his head and neck. He does not look like a young god: rather, an old, white-bearded man, with blind eyes.]

APOLLO:   Lady, Queen, all of Hellas has heard of your King’s suffering. We are two who may possibly be of help to him. This illness is the work of the gods. And I am a prophet of the gods. My name is Teiresias.

ALCESTIS:   Teiresias of Thebes! Greatest prophet of all Hellas! Ah, this is good of you, to make this long journey. What help can you give us, what counsel?

APOLLO:   I can only advise, not directly heal. But I have brought with me one who does have powers… An old woman from the mountains: one who has learnt of the wise centaur, the healer Cheiron, and of beings greater than Cheiron. Charis, show yourself!

   [Artemis throws back her hood. She seems an old woman, with white hair, but piercing black eyes.]

ALCESTIS:   Charis! You are a healer? Can you heal my husband?

ARTEMIS:   Lady, it may be that I can. The prophet speaks truly: I do have certain powers, unknown to ordinary mere physicians. But to do anything, I must have a private consultation with you. Not here. My place is in the mountains, and there I have most power. You know the Bare Mountain, an hour’s journey from here?

ALCESTIS:   Yes!

ARTEMIS:   That is where we must go. That is where I will reveal to you great things.

MACHAON:   Lady Alcestis, have nothing to do with this! This woman is a mere witch – I can see that. She can do nothing for your husband. But she can do harm to you. Alone, with her, on that mountain? What may happen to you there?

ALCESTIS:   Do you think I would hesitate –

APOLLO:   Queen, have no fear. I, Teiresias, will accompany you and Charis to the mountain. I will protect you. You know my probity.

ALCESTIS:   All Hellas knows it, Teiresias.

APOLLO:   Then come. You will be safe. The mountain will be quite deserted, except for us three. And there you will learn the secret counsels of the gods, concerning your husband.

ALCESTIS:  [looking back at Admetos]  Machaon, go back to your patient. You and Myrtis, take good care of him while I am away. I am leaving at once.

MACHAON:   Don’t do it, lady, queen! Who knows what these two may do? And who, in fact, are they? I think I recognize Teiresias – but I know nothing of this old witch. Your own life may be at stake.

ALCESTIS:   If it is, so be it. Do you think I care about that? To save Admetos from this terrible suffering and death, I myself would rather be tortured and killed…  This is my only hope. You and your brother are the greatest doctors in Hellas, and you can do nothing. Farewell – and keep my love as comfortable as you can.

   [She withdraws into the shadow of the trees, with the two figures who are now again hooded. Then they are gone.]

MACHAON:  [turning back to Admetos]  Ah, the good gods, keep her safe!


Scene 3

The Bare Mountain, near its rounded summit. On the highest point stands a dead tree, with a straight vertical trunk, not very thick, its dead branches well above head height. Clouds shadow the scene. Enter, coming up the slope, Alcestis and the two hooded figures.

ALCESTIS:   Is this the place? Is this far enough?

APOLLO:   It is far enough. Lady Alcestis: try not to be startled. I am an old friend. What must be done now, must be done. It is the command of our father, Zeus.

ALCESTIS:   Your voice is changed. I seem to recognize it…

   [Apollo and Artemis throw off their disguises. The grey clothes vanish. Once more they are the splendid young gods of the first scene, with their bows and quivers. Artemis carries in her hands some lengths of rope.]

ALCESTIS:   Apollo! Lord Apollo! Oh, how glad I am to see you, my dear friend. You came, in answer to my prayer! And this lady is…?

APOLLO:   No mortal lady, but a goddess, my sister Artemis, the Huntress.

ALCESTIS:   Artemis the Slayer. [She bows to them both.]  O you great gods, now tell me, what is to be done? Can my husband be saved?

ARTEMIS:   Yes, he can be saved. But only at the cost of another death.

ALCESTIS:   Another death!

APOLLO:   Father Zeus has decreed that Admetos will be restored to perfect health if one member of his family will agree to die in his stead.

ALCESTIS:   One member of his family?

APOLLO:   Yes. His parents are dead, so that leaves – your two children or – yourself.

ALCESTIS:   Not the children!

APOLLO:   No, as it turns out.

ARTEMIS:   We have approached them both already. First we went to your daughter Erinna.

ALCESTIS:   At Iolkos, where she is married to her cousin, the prince?

ARTEMIS:   Yes. We met her in the garden, showed who we really were, and put to her the proposition. She was – angry. She said she would not die for her father, certainly not.

ALCESTIS:   Quite right, very proper. Her first duty now is to her own husband. And she is young, she has her life yet to live, whereas we old people…

APOLLO:   Then we went to your son, the young warrior Eumelos. We found him at the sea shore, just about to go aboard a fifty-oared ship. He was off to Skyros, he said, to court a daughter of that island’s king. And perhaps do some fighting, if any offered, such as with other suitors.

ARTEMIS:   A typical young hero, that one.

ALCESTIS:   Well, what did he say?

APOLLO:   He replied rather like his sister. He said, “You must be joking, you gods. The old man will die anyway, one of these days, and then I will inherit. How long will he last?”  I said, “Six months.”  He said, “Oh, I’ll be back before then. I must be at home to take over, when he goes. By then, I’ll have my bride with me, to take over as queen.”

ALCESTIS:   Yes, that sounds like my son. He was always – a realist. I cannot blame him too much. So – that leaves me?

ARTEMIS:   Yes, lady. That leaves you.

ALCESTIS:  [spreading out her arms]  I am ready. Take me. When I die, will Admetos really be cured – at once?

ARTEMIS:   Yes, at once. He will be perfectly well, and vigorous. How old is he? Fifty-five? Eumelos may have to wait some time. Indeed, Admetos is still young enough to take another wife.

ALCESTIS:   Another wife… Poor dear, this will be terrible for him. He does love me, a lot. If only I could die, and he not suffer this grief!  But I hope he will not grieve too long. Well – this changes nothing. Do it. Only – may I go down to Pherai again, just for a few hours, to kiss him and take my leave of him? I would like to tell him – carefully, so that he does not guess – that if our positions were reversed, if he should recover and I die, I would like him not to grieve too long, but take another wife. And then, one long, last embrace… May I go down now?

ARTEMIS:   No, you may not. It must be now. And think, if you were to go down to Pherai, Admetos would suffer those terrible pains for several more hours.

ALCESTIS:   You are right, Huntress. I do not want my dear love to suffer one moment longer. But oh, oh, never to see him again!... And now, never more to see the sun, the light of day, the blue sky, the fields of home… Above all, never to see him… But when I am dead, I will not be conscious of that. I will not be conscious of anything… Well, you are the Slayer of Women, lady Artemis. I am ready. Perhaps, against this tree?

ARTEMIS:   Yes, at the tree.

   [Alcestis moves to the tree, and stands with her back to it.]

ALCESTIS:   Lady, they say your arrows are merciful, and quick.

ARTEMIS:   It is not to be like that, in your case. Admetos suffered long, and greatly. You must suffer in his stead. Some hours. That is the decree of Zeus.

ALCESTIS:   Hours… Oh! O you gods!... But I see, yes, that is fair. I am still ready. Do whatever you have to do.

ARTEMIS:  [throwing the ropes to Apollo]  Bind her.

APOLLO:   Lady, dear lady, do not believe I have any pleasure in this. But – you must submit now.  [He ties her wrists together, behind the tree. Then he ties a second rope tightly about the tree and her waist.]  Does that hurt you?

ALCESTIS:   No, not much. Good – at least I will die standing up, like a good warrior. Now, let the will of the gods be done.

ARTEMIS:  [stringing a black arrow to her bow]  This will kill you, but not quickly. And the pain will be very great. You can still say No, and I will tell my brother to unbind you.

ALCESTIS:   Ah, O gods, O gods… Up to now I have kept this body healthy and whole – so long. For myself, for my children…for him. And now, my body, I am betraying you. My limbs, my womb, my heart…you have served me always, so well, since I was little – And now I am going to destroy you, every part of you. Forgive me! But it is for him, and I must do it, I must give… Lady Artemis, do it now. The arrow!

   [Artemis shoots. The arrow pierces Alcestis at the waist, fixing her to the tree. Blood gushes from the wound, flooding the blue dress. Alcestis struggles, but does not cry out. The gods stand looking at her.]

ARTEMIS:   Normally, you would be dead already. But I have told you what must happen. And you still have time. As long as you are still conscious, you can cry “Stop,” and I will pull out the arrow, and you will be as healthy as before. What do you say?

   [Alcestis bites her lips, pushes her head back against the tree]

ALCESTIS:   No…no…

APOLLO:   I cannot stay to watch this. But I will be back, before the end.

ARTEMIS:  Where are you going?

APOLLO:   Never you mind. It is I who command now, sister, not you. I hold the Orb of the Fates. I am going to carry out and finish these tests, from now on, in my own way. Farewell. And – Alcestis! I think you can still hear my voice. Alcestis – I love you.

   [Apollo exits down the slope of the mountain. Alcestis remains transfixed against the tree, head upright, silent. Artemis watches.]


Scene 4

Pherai, the forecourt and garden of the palace. It is bright afternoon. King Admetos is sitting up on the bed, looking with pleasure at his sunlit surroundings. Myrtis is holding him round the shoulders, caressing him, half supporting him, and combing his hair, which now seems as much brown as grey. There is good color in his cheeks.

MYRTIS:   Ah, my lord, my master! That doctor – he went away shaking his head, he had given you up for lost, and now look at you! You seem almost well! Do you really have no pain?

ADMETOS:   No pain at all, Myrtis! It began lessening very rapidly, just after Machaon left, and now – nothing! Only weakness, but no pain! I don’t understand this.

MYRTIS:   That doctor and his “simples”! Maybe he was making you ill himself. His going away – that saved you.

ADMETOS:   I don’t know. But I do feel that I may be saved. I feel stronger with every passing minute. Soon I think I will be able to get up. Oh, where is Alcestis? Where is she, my love? Myrtis, tell the servants to go and find her at once. Oh, how pleased she will be to see me now! She must be in the palace…

MYRTIS:   No, my lord, I think, not in the palace. You were so ill, you did not notice. She went – it must have been more than an hour ago – she went out by the garden, with two strangers. She has not yet returned.

ADMETOS:   Strangers? What strangers? This is very strange…

   [Enter, from under the trees, Apollo, in his own likeness, a young god, with bow and quiver.]

ADMETOS:   Apollo! Lord god Apollo! Apollo the Healer! Ah, my lord, now I see – it is you who have done this for me. I prayed, we all prayed, and now you have answered our prayers, restored me to health! It was you, wasn’t it?

APOLLO:   Yes – partly. In a manner of speaking.

ADMETOS:   We should make a feast, a great feast for you. I will tell the servants… Excuse me for not getting g up yet. I don’t yet feel perfectly strong. But I am improving steadily.

APOLLO:   Yes, you would be. And when the sacrifice is completed, you will be perfectly well and strong, and in the prime of life.

ADMETOS:   When the – What sacrifice, my lord?

APOLLO:   The sacrifice that Lady Alcestis has made for you.

ADMETOS:   Alcestis… Did she go with you, then?

APOLLO:   Yes. We were the two hooded strangers, disguised as mortals. Myself and my sister Artemis. Artemis is with Alcestis now, seeing to the end of the sacrifice. I think it is nearly over.

ADMETOS:   Where are they?

APOLLO:   On the Bare Mountain.

ADMETOS:   What is the sacrifice? How did you get a beast up there, up that steep, barren slope?

APOLLO:   We needed no beast. The sacrifice is Alcestis herself.

ADMETOS:  [crying out]  No!

APOLLO:   Yes. So it was ordained by Father Zeus, that your life would be spared, if one of your family would agree to die in your place. We approached both your children; both refused. Then we approached Alcestis. She accepted. And now she is dead, and you are getting well.

ADMETOS:   Oh no, no, no! No! How can I live? Lord Apollo, reverse this, I beg you. Bring her back to me, alive. Let the pains take me again, until I die. If she is gone – so good a wife – I do not want to live.

APOLLO:   I am sorry, but the gifts of the gods cannot be taken back.

ADMETOS:   Yes, they can. In some cases. I know what you did for her once – and what she did. She renounced her immortality for me. And you took it back from her. She has died for me already once! I will not let it happen again.

APOLLO:  [laying his hand on Admetos’s shoulder]  I am sorry, my friend, very sorry. But this time, there is no way out. Father Zeus is watching us now. He will not let me reverse your wife’s fate again.
    Ah, I do feel for you, King Admetos. You are a very good man, very pious to the gods, and you have loved the best wife in the world. But tears and outcries will not now bring her back. And think now of your future. You are king of Pherai, in the prime of life, and your son has not behaved well to you. Why not take some young princess now, to be your second wife? I could easily find you one. A healthy young wife, who will make pleasant your years to come; and perhaps bear you another son. One whom you might make your heir in place of that ungrateful, unfilial Eumelos.

ADMETOS:  [with hands over his ears]  Stop, stop! Apollo, I will never do such a thing. Since my darling wife is dead, the best wife in the world, the one who has loved me so much – since she has died for me, I will as far as possible die for her. My life now, till its end, shall be a living death. I will mourn Alcestis for ever. And, lord god, hear now my vow: By Zeus All-Father, and by the Sun who sees all things, I swear that until I die I will never have another woman in my bed.

APOLLO:   That is a great oath. But  not a wise one. And – the Father has given me some power in this matter – I can allow you to take your vow back, I can cancel it. See here! [He takes from his quiver the black Orb.]  This is a gift from the Fates, whose power is higher and stronger than that of the gods. If I touch you with it, I can release you from your vow, and at the same time give you instantly your full strength. Shall I do that?

ADMETOS:   No! Take away this gift of the Fates, and bring Alcestis back to me alive!

APOLLO:   I am not allowed to do that. And you should take back your vow. Alcestis would wish it. She told us, before she died, that she desired above all things your happiness. “Let him not grieve long,” she said. “And let him take another wife, to comfort him in his old age.”  So – I will touch your lips now, and you will be released from your vow. You will also at once regain your full strength. I cannot give you back Alcestis. But what I can do for you, I will do – now.

   [He touches Admetos’s lips with the Orb. Admetos springs to his feet.]

ADMETOS:   Ah, health, ah, life! Health and life! But at such a price – they are loathsome gifts. I do not want another wife. Lord Apollo, at least bring back my dear wife’s body, so that I can give her a great funeral.

APOLLO:   You will see what I will do for you.  [Exit, under the trees.]

   [Admetos slumps back upon the bed, weeping. Myrtis tries to comfort him.]


Scene 5

The Bare Mountain. Artemis stands watching: Alcestis, bound to the tree and transfixed by the arrow, is slumped forward, motionless, with her hair, now quite grey, fallen over and hiding her face. Bleak light, dark clouds in the background.

ARTEMIS:   I think it must be finished. And Admetos must be well again.

   [Enter Apollo, with the Orb in his hand.]

APOLLO:   Is she dead?

ARTEMIS:   I think so. And you will not be allowed to reverse this – if she has restored Admetos. Is he perfectly well now?

APOLLO:   Perfectly.

ARTEMIS:   Then it is over with her, and I am glad. You think me ruthless, brother, but I am not. I pity many creatures – all beasts, many women. And I have watched Alcestis dying, for hours. For hours she could have cried “Enough,” but she did not… With the pains, she aged. Wrinkles appeared in her cheeks, her hair turned grey, she lost all her beauty. I was her mirror: I told her what was happening to her.

APOLLO:   Cruel! Ruthless!

ARTEMIS:   No. I merely wanted her to stop, to give up. Then I would have made her whole and beautiful again. But she would not have it, she went on to the end. And if a goddess could weep, I would weep.

APOLLO:   Well, Alcestis has passed every test. And now, it is I who command, sister. See what I can do.

   [He touches Alcestis’s drooping head with the Orb. At once, Alcestis looks up, her bonds and the arrow disappear. There is no blood on her blue tunic, her hair is again black, she has regained all her former beauty. The clouds are disappearing: slanting sunbeams light up the scene.]

ARTEMIS:   What! How could you do that? You were not allowed to reverse death!

APOLLO:   She was not quite dead. I hurried the process of Admetos’s recovery, touched him with this Orb. He was not altogether well until that moment. So I knew I would be in time here.

ALCESTIS:   I… again I see the Sun! I see a bright sky! What has happened? Is this Elysium?

APOLLO:   No, dear Alcestis, this is Hellas. And do not fear for Admetos. He is well. All will be well now, I think, my dear. But now, for a while, I must alter you a little. Don’t be afraid: but while this goes on, you must be dumb. Here!

   [He touches her lips with the Orb. Her tunic is suddenly white, the jewel at her throat is a white pearl. She begins to look younger.]

ARTEMIS:   What is this? What are you planning?

APOLLO:   You will see. One last test – this time, for Admetos. He has said heroic things to me – let us see if he really means them.

   [The all move away, down the slope, Artemis leading Alcestis by the hand.]


Scene 6

Pherai, the forecourt and garden of the palace. It is late afternoon; the sloping sunlight has a rosy tinge. Attendant guards stand by the palace doors. Admetos is sitting on a throne, facing the garden, his chin on his hands. His expression is one of extreme grief. Myrtis is kneeling beside him, stroking his knees and feet.

ADMETOS:  [pointing to the trees]  That is the way she went: out of this garden, out of my life. Oh, why, why, why? Why do the gods torment us so? It was they, surely they, who sent my illness…

MYRTIS:   Master, beware of offending them. It may have been the Fates who sent the illness.

ADMETOS:   Oh, I am past fearing to offend the gods. What more can they do to me now? No more sacrifices for Olympos! Perhaps, if I blaspheme now, sufficiently, against Father Zeus, he will strike me dead, with a thunderbolt. So be it! [He gets up, looks upward.]  Zeus! Hey, Zeus! Do you hear me? Do you call yourself God of Justice? Hear now what I think of your Justice!

   [From under the trees come three figures. They are Apollo and Artemis, in their proper forms, and a woman whom Artemis is leading by the hand. The woman’s tunic and cloak are white, and there is a white veil over her head, which conceals her features.]

APOLLO:   Stop right there, Admetos! Don’t blaspheme the gods before you see what gift we have brought you – I, and my sister Artemis here.

ADMETOS:   What gift? You have given me life, but my wife – death.

APOLLO:   Sorry about that. We were simply under orders.

ADMETOS:   Where is my wife’s body?

APOLLO:   You will see that later. But meanwhile… Remember, Admetos, you are released from your vow. As Alcestis would have wished it. And see what we have brought you! This veiled lady – she is a beautiful girl, and a princess. A foreign one, I’m afraid – but a very nice one, I can assure you.  We gods can see far and move very fast, as fast as thought; and from the Bare Mountain we viewed a seashore of Thrace; and saw there this noble girl, struggling in the grasp of a band of pirates. We slew all the pirates, and brought the girl here. Unfortunately, the pirates had destroyed her whole family, so that now she has no immediate kin. We have brought her to you. She is still virgin, and we know that she is very good-hearted. She can cheer all the remaining days of your life. Do you want to see her face? She is very pretty!

ADMETOS:   No, I do not want to see her face. I want to see my wife’s face – her dead face.

APOLLO:   Cheer yourself up a bit first. Look!

   [Artemis removes the veil. The girl is revealed – looking very much as Alcestis did when she was Admetos’s young bride. She has white skin, blue eyes, and is utterly beautiful. At her throat, on a cord, she wears a single white pearl. She differs from the young Alcestis in one way: her hair is not black, but reddish-brown, a lovely auburn.]

ARTEMIS:   See, Admetos, such is the girl we have brought you. Is she not pretty? What do you say?

ADMETOS:   Gods! She is so like – so like her when she was young. Except for the hair – she has not that lovely black hair of Alcestis, so black against my dear girl’s white skin. But she has those fine blue eyes – very, very like… Girl, lady, what is your name?

APOLLO:   I am sorry, it is useless to question her. She doesn’t speak Greek. But she will learn, quickly. You can call her Thrassa – girl from Thrace. We are offering her to you. She will be all yours, Admetos. She will warm your bed, return your kisses, bear you children, see to the cooking – she will do everything you need a woman for. And she has no one in Thrace to go home to. And we are not going to take her back.

ADMETOS:   You are offering me this girl, to be my slave.

APOLLO:   Slave, concubine, what you will. But she is by birth a princess – as your first wife was. If you come to love her, you can free her, marry her. I tell you, she is all yours. You have suffered so much, you deserve to be happy.

ADMETOS:   I do not want a wife from Thrace, from Skythia, from anywhere! I will not have any foreign woman in my bed!

APOLLO:   Oh, I can arrange that. With my Orb of Fate I can instantly transform her into a Hellene, with our speech, with charm, with everything. What do you say, my friend?

ADMETOS:  [slowly]  I cannot say the offer is not tempting. The girl does look sweet. And she reminds me so much…

   [The girl is as still as a statue, looking fixedly at Admetos, but with no expression in her blue eyes.]

APOLLO:   See, she is waiting for you to say Yes. We have told her how kind you are, and she has signified to us that she is very willing to be your woman.

ADMETOS:  [taking a step forward, then another]  It is very tempting, very tempting… She is so like… It would be like one of those blissful dreams, in which the dead you love return, and you can actually hold them, embrace them. Not a mere shadow… Yes: it would be so much like having her again, having her again – as she was at first, my young bride, young in my arms…

MYRTIS:   Master, take her. She will make you happy. I can see she is good – and so like former mistress. She will make you forget this sorrow.

ADMETOS:   Forget! No. If she could cancel what has happened, be herself again… But that is not what it would be. No! I must not – I must not embrace a false image of Alcestis. She is like, but she is not her. That, that would be the worst betrayal – to look with love into these other blue eyes, in place of those blue eyes. Am I to lie with a statue of my wife, a fleshly statue, make love to that, and pretend it is her?
    No! Since you will not take back this woman, this Thrassa, I will be merely kind to her. I will give her to Myrtis, and Myrtis will look after her, in some remote room of my palace, nowhere near my bed. And then I will have enquiries made, in Thrace; I will try to return her to some kinsfolk there. Failing that, I will give her in marriage to some prince of Hellas.

APOLLO:   Is that your final answer?

ADMETOS:   Yes. As Alcestis was to me, so am I now to her: we are married, for ever. And now I renew my vow. Before Zeus and the Sun, I swear – since Alcestis was so good, so great, such a perfect wife – however long I live, I will never have another woman in my bed.

APOLLO:   So be it. You have chosen your fate. See now what it will be.

   [He touches the girl with the Orb, on the lips. At once she is transformed. She is Alcestis, just as she was earlier on this same day: she has her blue tunic with the sapphire at her throat, her hair nearly black, but with little threads of silver. She is again a beautiful, healthy woman in her forties.]

ADMETOS:   Alcestis!

ALCESTIS:   Admetos, my love, my lord!  [They fall into each other’s arms.]

APOLLO:   Now, Admetos, you have no reason to blaspheme the gods. This is truly Alcestis: no more tricks, no more illusions. This is your wife, who died for you, and whom we have brought back from the dead. Now, I can assure you, you will both have a happy old age.

ALCESTIS:   My darling! While my speech was sealed up, I could still hear every word you were saying. I heard your refusal, your vow. And it went beyond anything you had to do, anything I would have asked of you.
   You know… In the past you have regarded me as almost supernaturally good, because of what happened thirty years ago. That embarrassed me: I don’t like to be worshipped, I much prefer to be loved. But now, I needn’t be embarrassed in that way. You have shown yourself my equal in goodness and love, my darling, by this your great noble choice. My darling, my King, we are equals! Oh, how good it will be to love in an ordinary way, to have an ordinary life together!

ADMETOS:   Nothing can be ordinary while I have you, my dear. You have shown a love stronger than death.

ALCESTIS:   But so have you.

APOLLO:   Sister, I think this experiment is concluded. We can report to our Father at once. He will be pleased with what Hellene mortals can do.

ADMETOS:   Stop, stop! Will you not stay, you gods, while we give you a magnificent feast?

APOLLO:   No need, my dear fellow. We feast enough in Olympos. And I think your feast now will be happier, with just the two of you.

ADMETOS:   A happy old age, you said… And what will be the end of us?

APOLLO:   The common end of mortals. You will die, of course. But not painfully. Sometimes death comes like sleep.  I can arrange that.

ALCESTIS:   Can we die together? At the same moment?

APOLLO:   I think not. That is a very unusual happening. And – you have shown so much worth, both of you, that you deserve something better than a miracle. You deserve to show your courage just once more. No, one of you will die before the other. I do not know which. But whoever survives, it will not be for long. Expect, then, the usual human fate – a little luckier than the fate of most people. That is all.

ALCESTIS:   And that is all I ask. Dear lord Apollo…

ADMETOS:   Dear lord Apollo, we thank you, for all your mercies, from our youth onwards, and till now.

APOLLO:   Well, you’ll have one more mercy: I will not interfere with your lives ever again. And now – have a good feast!

   [Apollo and Artemis move under the trees and are gone. Admetos and Alcestis embrace, in the rosy glow of sunset.]

CURTAIN


Author’s note:  Why I have re-written Euripides.

    I have never liked the ending of Euripides’ Alcestis, because after Alcestis is restored from death, she is not allowed to speak. On the Ancient Greek stage, where characters wore masks, this might have been impressive in some way; but to me it is deeply unsatisfactory.
    In the first place, Alcestis has a score to settle with Admetos. He has been the cause of her suffering and death. Could she be happy with him after that? On the other hand, in her own hearing, he has redeemed himself by refusing a second wife, even when one was being thrust upon him. Alcestis should now speak, and say that because of his noble refusal, she forgives him.
    In the second place, the silent Alcestis is uncanny. Has she really returned to life? Or is she a fake, a simulacrum (like the false Helen in Helen), which looks like Alcestis, but perhaps has no human mind? It is speech which is the guarantee of conscious life. For all we see (and don’t hear) on the stage, Alcestis may not have been restored: which destroys the whole story.
    This was the first motive which led me to re-write Euripides: I gave restored Alcestis speech. The other changes I made arose from this: Euripides’ play is basically a satirical (and semi-satyrical) comedy. It does not take the myth very seriously, nor explain why Admetos has to die in the first place. I preferred to take a leaf from the Book of Job. I also preferred to be serious about death and self-sacrifice. These are core realities of the human condition: both happen. And the dead sometimes are restored to us in vivid dreams, and do speak. Experto credite.