Ten Plays Read online

  CHORUS LEADER: Look, here comes a woman from the palace, a servant maid in tears . . . what shall we be told?

  [Addressing the MAIDSERVANT]

  Are we to mourn? Would that be right?

  We must know.

  Is our mistress alive or is she dead?

  SECOND EPISODE

  MAIDSERVANT: You might say she is living and she’s already dead.

  LEADER: Deceased yet seeing the light? That makes no sense.

  MAIDSERVANT: She’s sinking now, breathing out her last.

  LEADER: Poor Master! Such a man deprived of such a mate.

  MAIDSERVANT: The loss, the shock—he does not feel it yet.

  LEADER: Is all hope gone of saving her?

  MAIDSERVANT: Her hour has come: her destiny is sure.

  LEADER: Is all that is necessary being done?

  MAIDSERVANT: Her husband has done everything to dress her for

  the tomb.

  LEADER: Tell her she dies splendid. The noblest consort under

  the sun.

  MAIDSERVANT: The noblest, yes. Who could deny it?

  What paragon could hope outdo her?

  How could a woman show

  more devotion to her man than die for him?

  This is common knowledge in the town,

  but wait till you hear how she behaved at home.

  When she knew that her final day had come,

  she bathed her milk-white body in water from the stream,

  then chose from the cedar chests her jewels and best apparel

  and decked herself becomingly.

  Then standing before the hearth she made this prayer:

  “Hestia, lady,

  as I prepare to go down into the dark,

  I kneel before you.

  Be a mother to my little ones.

  Give my son a loving bride;

  An upright husband to my daughter.

  Keep my children from untimely death,

  Not like their mother’s,

  And bless them with a full and happy life

  Lived in their native land.”

  Then she went with sprigs of myrtle3 she had plucked

  to every altar in Admetus’ halls,

  garlanded them and prayed.

  There was no sighing and no sobbing.

  The doom she walked towards

  did not dim the sweet tenor of her face.

  Then to her room she flew and to the bed.

  There her tears began to flow.

  “Bed, my bed,” she cried,

  “where I unlocked my maidenhood

  for this very man for whom today I die—farewell.

  I do not hate you—see—

  though you caused my death . . . but only mine.

  I shall not fail you, nor my man. That’s why I die.

  Some other bride will own you soon:

  not more chaste than I, but luckier perhaps.”

  Falling on the bed, she kissed it

  and let the tears that swept her eyes bestrew the coverlet.

  And when she had wept her fill,

  tearing herself away from the bed

  she wandered dismally off, then back again—

  over and over again—throwing herself on the bed.

  Meanwhile, the little children sobbed,

  clinging to their mother’s skirts.

  She took them each in turn,

  hugged and fondled them

  as one about to die.

  All the women in the house were crying

  in pity for their lady mistress.

  She held out a hand to each,

  none too low for her to greet and wait for a reply.

  These are the tragic happenings going on now

  inside Admetus’ house.

  If he had died it would be over and done with.

  As it is, his escape

  has brought him such pain he never will forget.

  LEADER: He must be calling out in anguish at the loss of such a

  wife.

  MAIDSERVANT: Yes, he holds his beloved in his arms,

  weeping and beseeching, “Do not desert me,”

  asking the impossible,

  for she droops, she wilts, she sinks in her decline.

  Weak as she is,

  scarcely able to draw breath,

  she trails her hand as if it were a weight,

  yet wishes still to face the sun and let her eyes

  go feasting on its rays one last time.

  [The MAIDSERVANT pauses, surveying the dismal looks of the old men]

  Now I’ll go inside and say that you are here.

  Such loyalty as yours is rare:

  To rally to the great ones in their need.

  But you have been friends to my master

  For many a year.

  [The MAIDSERVANT goes into the palace. The old men of the CHORUS huddle in groups, hoping still that there may be a way of saving ALCESTIS]

  SECOND CHORAL LYRIC

  1: What escape, O Zeus, is there

  For our sovereigns from despair?

  2: What smallest chink of hope is left?

  Or must I tear my hair?

  Put on mourning dress?

  3: Friends, it’s clearly all too clear

  But let us offer prayer:

  The gods have power.

  All: Lord Apollo, healer,

  Find a way to help Admetus.

  1: Procure, provide, a plan.

  You did before. We know you can.

  Snatch her from Death’s door.

  Keep murderous Hades back.

  4: Son of Pheres, overwhelming

  Will you find your consort’s going:

  The lack! The lack!

  2: Enough to make a person loose

  His very life with knife or noose.

  3: More than loved one, most beloved,

  He will see her dead today.

  1: Look, she comes, she comes

  With her husband from her home.

  All: Wail it out, O shout in groans,

  You land of Pherae:

  The perfect woman

  Sick and sinking down

  Towards the world of Hades.

  LEADER: Without a doubt a wedding brings much more pain than joy.

  Look at the past

  and now at the sufferings of our king:

  bereft of his wife, his nonpareil,

  he will live an unlivable life of gray.

  [The doors of the palace are thrown open and ALCESTIS, half carried by ADMETUS, sways down the steps. The little boy EUMELUS and his sister cling to their mother. The servants set up a couch as ALCESTIS and ADMETUS chant to each other]

  CHORAL DIALOGUE

  ALCESTIS: The sun and the day’s clear light;

  The clouds in the wheeling sky . . .

  ADMETUS: Have us two unhappy beings in sight;

  We did no wrong that you should die.

  ALCESTIS: The sweet earth and this high-roofed home,

  And the land I came from as a bride . . .

  ADMETUS: Bear up, my darling, do not leave me alone.

  Ask, and the mighty gods cannot turn aside.

  ALCESTIS: I see the boat with its brace of oarblades—

  The ferry of corpses—

  And resting his arm on an oar, Charon is calling:

  “Quick, get aboard, you waste my time.”

  He harasses, he hurries me to come.

  ADMETUS: Oh, what a bitter passage you envisage!

  Our agony, my woebegotten one, is savage.

  ALCESTIS: I am dragged . . . someone is dragging me . . .

  Can you not see? . . . to the halls of the dead.

  His eyes are grim and they glower on me.

  He is winged . . . He is Hades . . . What is he doing?

  Stop it, let go . . . Bleak is the road . . . I am coming.

  ADMETUS: A heartbreaking road for those who love you:

  For me most of all and the children that had you.

  ALCESTIS: Let me go, let me go, lay me down now.

  My legs give way . . . Hades is on me.

  The black of night seeps into my eyes.

  O my children, my babies, your mother is dying.

  Children, farewell . . . The light! The light!

  May you look at it long.

  ADMETUS: These are the heaviest words to hear:

  Worse than death are these words to me.

  By all the gods, I beg you, don’t leave me;

  For the sake of the children you hold dear.

  Look up, resist! Once you are gone

  I no longer exist.

  In you we are not, or in you we are.

  For you are the love we adore.

  [End of Choral Dialogue]

  [ADMETUS walks ALCESTIS to the couch and lays her down. She takes his hand]

  ALCESTIS: Admetus, you see how matters stand with me,

  so let me tell you my last wish before I die.

  I have cherished you

  and though it cost me my own life

  have set your eyes to gaze upon the sunlight still.

  I die for you, though had I wished

  I could have wed again and made a prosperous royal home.

  But I had no wish to live apart from you,

  with these children fatherless,

  even though it meant the sacrifice of youth and all its gifts—

  which I so enjoyed.

  I did this even though your father

  and the mother who gave you birth abandoned you.

  They were ripe enough to die with grace—

  yes, die gracefully and praised—

  for their own son’s sake: an only son at that,

  with no prospect of a further heir when you were gone.

  We could have lived our days out to the end,

  you and I; you no weeping widower

  with children who were motherless.

  Well, some destiny has planned things as they are;

  so be it, but remember always what you owe to me:

  something I can never ask you to repay,

  for nothing is so valuable as life—

  as you yourself will readily admit.

  [ALCESTIS turns her head and rests her eyes on the two children, who stand by with their nurse]

  These children you will love no less than I,

  if your heart be right;

  so bring them up as masters in my home.

  Do not remarry and impose on them

  some vicious stepmother who through jealousy of me

  takes her hand to them—

  these your little ones and also mine.

  Do not do that, I beg you—oh, not that!—

  a second wife loathes the children there before she came . . .

  is about as tender as an adder.

  A boy’s bulwark is his father:

  he goes to him and waits on his advice;

  but a girl, you my little daughter,

  what kind of girlhood can you have?

  What kind of woman would you find your father’s second

  wife?

  Not one—I can only pray—

  who blasts your maiden prime away with vicious gossip

  and blights all hope of marriage.

  There’ll be no mother at your wedding to see you through,

  and none to cheer you at your lying-in,

  just when a mother is so comforting.

  I must die,

  and not tomorrow or the following day:

  the ordeal is now;

  in a moment I’ll be reckoned with the dead.

  Farewell. Be happy.

  You, my husband, can be proud

  you married such a wife as I;

  and you, my children, to have had me as your mother.

  LEADER: Madam, be consoled.

  I do not hesitate to speak for him:

  all this he’ll do—or else be raving mad.

  [ADMETUS kneels beside his wife and presses her hand]

  ADMETUS: All shall be as you say. Have no fear.

  As in life you alone were mine,

  so in death no one else shall be called my wife.

  No Thessalian bride shall ever claim me after you.

  None is so nobly born,

  none so beautiful—not one.

  As for children, I have no need of more.

  May ours bring some happiness to me,

  seeing all joy in you is dead.

  I shall weep for you—not just one year

  but as long as life shall last.

  Yes, my love, forever.

  And I’ll hate her who gave me birth,

  and curse my father.

  Their love was only words; but you,

  you gave me the most precious thing you had,

  to save my life.

  The loss—the loss of one like you—

  how can I not cry out in pain?

  [ADMETUS turns towards the elders and citizens]

  All celebrations I disallow, all drinking parties:

  no more song and garlands in my house;

  never again shall I touch the lyre

  nor gladden my heart with a song to the flute.

  For you, you take my heart away.

  I’ll have a sculptor make an effigy of you

  and lay it sleeping in my bed.

  I’ll fall on it and fondle it,

  calling out your name,

  and think I have my darling in my arms

  whom I have not.

  Cold comfort, certainly,

  but still a way of lessening the load upon my soul.

  In dreams perhaps you’ll come to me and make me glad.

  It’s sweet to see our loved ones, even in the night,

  even for the moment that they last.

  Had I the tongue of Orpheus and his mellifluous strains

  and by song could cast a spell

  on Persephone and her spouse to wrest you out of hell,

  I should go down

  and neither Pluto’s hound

  nor the spirit-ferrying Charon at his oar could stop me:

  not till I’d brought your soul up into the light.

  Wait for me down there. Wait for me to die.

  Prepare the home where you and I shall live as one.

  For I shall make them lay my bones side by side with yours:

  stretched out with you in the selfsame cedar box.

  Not even in death would I be apart from you—

  my one and only faithful love.

  LEADER: We too shall share as friend with friend

  your heaving grief for her—who is owed so much.

  [ALCESTIS raises herself and beckons the two children]

  ALCESTIS: Children, you have heard your father’s promise

  never to dishonor me and marry another woman.

  ADMETUS: Yes, I say it again and shall do as you say.

  [ALCESTIS takes the children’s hands]

  ALCESTIS: On these terms, then, receive these children from my

  hand.

  ADMETUS: I do. A lovely gift from a hand so loved.

  ALCESTIS: Be these children’s mother now, in place of me.

  [ADMETUS takes the children’s hands in his]

  ADMETUS: I must be that, now they don’t have you.

  ALCESTIS: Dear children,

  just when I should be most alive, I leave you to go below.

  ADMETUS: And me? What shall I do when I am left and you are

  gone?

  ALCESTIS: Time will heal you . . . The dead are nothing.

  ADMETUS: By all the gods, take me with you. Take me down

  below.

  ALCESTIS: No, my dying is enough: my dying for you.

  ADMETUS: O destiny, what a wife you wrench from me!

  [ALCESTIS sinks back]

  ALCESTIS: My eyes . . . so heavy now . . . weighted with the dark.

  ADMETUS: Wife, my wife, you leave me—leave me lost.

  ALCESTIS: Say I am nothing, no longer here.

  ADMETUS: Lift up your head. You cannot let your children go.

  ALCESTIS: I must, against my will . . . My little ones . . .

  Goodbye.

  ADMETUS: Just look at them! Look!

  ALCESTIS: I am . . . going.

  ADMETUS: What? No . . . not slipping from us?

  ALCESTIS: Farewell.

  [Still in ADMETUS’ arms, ALCESTIS falls back dead]

  ADMETUS: It’s all over . . . I am lost.

  LEADER: She is gone. The wife of Admetus is no more.

  [EUMELUS tears himself from his nurse and throws himself on his dead mother with a wail]

  CHORAL DIALOGUE

  EUMELUS: Aaah! Mother is gone, gone down below:

  She is no longer in the sun . . .

  O Father!

  Mamma has left me—poor Mamma!

  Now I live without a mother.

  Look, her eyelids; look, her fingers

  All gone limp now . . . Listen, Mother.

  O Mamma, please listen to me.

  It’s me, it’s me, Mamma, that calls you:

  Your little chick falls on your lips.

  [ADMETUS gently disengages him]

  ADMETUS: She can’t see you, she can’t hear you.

  You two and I are crushed by fate.

  EUMELUS: I am all alone and little,

  Deserted, Father, by my mother,

  My mother darling . . . Oh what anguish!

  And you, my little sister,

  Know this anguish too.

  It failed, Father, failed:

  Your marriage never lasted

  Till old age with her.

  She has gone before you.

  And, Mother, now without you

  Our home is over.

  LEADER: Admetus, you must live through this catastrophe.

  You’re not the first and not the last

  to lose a noble wife.

  Accept that every one of us must pay

  the debt of death.

  ADMETUS: I do accept.

  Nor did this evil swoop without a warning.

  The threat of it has tormented me for long.

  [End of Choral Dialogue]

  [He rises slowly from the couch on which ALCESTIS lies]

  I need your help.

  I must arrange the cortege for the dead.