The Return of Alcestis: A Play in One Act: by Laurence Housman

Samuel French: Publisher

28-30 West Thirty-eighth Street: New York

LONDON

Samuel French, Ltd.

26 Southampton Street Strand

Copyright, 1916, by Laurence Housman

CAUTION.—Amateurs and Professionals are hereby warned that THE RETURN OF ALCESTIS, being fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States, is subject to royalty, and any one presenting the play without the consent of the author or his authorized agent, will be liable to the penalties by law provided. Application for the right to produce THE RETURN OF ALCESTIS must be made to Samuel French, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York City.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

Alcestis

Her Nurse

Her Daughter

Her Attendants

Chorus of Women

Admetus

Pheres (his father)

Eumelos (his son)

His Attendant

Chorus of Men

Hymen

Scene:—A chamber in the house of Admetus, King of Pheræ. Across the center, backed by pillars, stretches a high screen, with curtained entrances at back to right and left. Before it stands the bridal couch, in front of which is a chair facing the audience. Down-stage at center, on a lower level, is the domestic altar. By the altar stands Hymen bearing a torch.

Hymen.—

House of Admetus, whom the Gods befriend,

Peace be within your gates, and joy attend

On this day’s bridal! For now Pheres’ son,

Helped by the hand of Heracles, hath won

Back from the tomb his wife, who blameless died

That he might live; and, to reclaim his bride,

Comes now where, lo, the nuptial feast is spread.

So shall fruit crown once more the marriage-bed,

And to his loins give sons, and thence make strong

The breed of his great race; for whom, when song

Was hushed in Heaven, Phoebus, the sun-bright God,

Did shepherd-service, and inglorious trod

These walls within. To him the God then gave

This promise, that he should not see the grave,

If, of free-will, one, offering in his stead,

Rendered the debt. So passed she to the dead:

But comes again upraised. Therefore, ’tis meet

That they which mourned should dance, and mouths make sweet[Pg 4]

Music about this chamber, decked and dight

For fruitful wedlock: whereto I bring light,

And warmth, and blessing. So may surer bliss,

And through long years, attend the marriage kiss,

Which here now is to be.

(Exit Hymen. Enter Chorus of Women.)

1st Semi-Chorus.—

As the springs, and the rains, and the rivers

Of hills, that replenish the earth,

Sink and are lost, yet rise and return

To the land of their birth;

And freshen with streams and showers

All herbs and flowers

Which yearn:

2nd Semi-Chorus.—

So thou, O fairest of givers,

Life-bringer, light-bearer to men,

With hands most tender to save,

And face by the terrors of death

Unappalled, and by love made brave,

1st Semi-Chorus.—

And with lips for the spending of breath

More quick than the lips of a runner

Whose feet are set to the goal:

(Enter Nurse bearing wedding raiment.)

Chorus.—

So thou, our dearest and best,

Art risen again from the grave;

And the land at thy coming is blest.

2nd Semi-Chorus.—

And for thee, befriended of fate,

My grief and sorrow were vain;

So with joy in my heart I wait,

Till eyes behold thee again.

Chorus Leader.—[Pg 5]

Nurse of our mistress, wherefore dost thou stand

Silent before us, holding in thy hand

The wedding raiment? Dost thou not hail the day?

(The Nurse lets fall the raiment.)

Oh! What means this?

Nurse.—

That having naught to say

Of good, I would be mute!

Leader.—

From what black bough of evil falls that fruit

Of speech so darkly uttered?

Nurse.—

Peace, let be!

The Gods drive home their gift. Soon shall ye see

Our mistress come forth to your midst again.

Leader.—

Redeemed from death?

Nurse.—

Yea, for she lies not slain.

Leader.—

Thy words sound strange!—But living, thou hast said?

Nurse.—

Aye, surely living, since she is not dead.

Leader.—

Speak, mother: hast thou aught to tell of woe?

Nurse.—

Ye women, I speak only as I know.

She that was dead now lives: gracious of form,

Gentle of face is she; her hands are warm

To my hands holding them; she feels no pain;

Death on her beauty has not left a stain;

But pure, but perfect, as on the day she died,

So have I found her,—lovely as when a bride

First came she to this chamber of our lord.

Leader.—

All that thou sayest is good![Pg 6]

Nurse.—

I speak no word,

Women, but as I know. Ah! God, these eyes

Which knew her as a child!—They that be wise,

Dying, let them stay dead!

(Exit Nurse.)

Leader.—

O Women, all ye that have heard,

What comfort find ye in this word——

‘Let the dying stay dead’?

Chorus.—

Earth is old, Time is long,

And the days that we live are few.

Many arise, and are born,

They mount and wax strong,

Stand thick together like corn;

But to them death cometh anew.

They are reaped, and are borne to the grave:

Men know them no more.

2nd Semi-Chorus.—

Yet a gift from the Gods was breath,

Not a curse, O sister, O friend!

For the search of my heart hath shown

How life is sweet to the taste;

And the sorrow that waits in the end

For the feet which haste

Is death!

God gave me a little breath:

Shall I not cleave to it now?

(Enter Alcestis leaning upon the hands of Women, and accompanied by her Nurse. They seat her upon the throne. She remains motionless.)

1st Semi-Chorus.—

And thou, that returnest to earth,

For our lord’s delight, and this land’s,

[Pg 7]Is there no light on thy brow,

No warmth in thy hands,

No gladness of heart, when thou hearest

The voice of our mirth?

2nd Semi-Chorus.—

Lo, robes for the bridal thou wearest,

Though a shroud was thy robe of late;

And home, O Beloved and fairest,

Thou comest, redeemed from Fate.

(A pause. Alcestis makes no response.)

1st Semi-Chorus.—

Ye say that the world is old:

But spring and the years are young,

And summer to earth gives joy.

Surely to man, not alone

For grief, hath this tale been told,

When the song of the bridal is sung

In the heart of maiden and boy?

Nurse.—

O women, speak to her! Let living fruit

Be on your tongues! These lips to me are mute,

And the eyes know me not!

Leader.—

How hath it come?

Nurse.—

Death’s hold is loosed; but mouth and heart stay dumb.

Lo, from the grave she looks, yet sees not life!

Leader.—

What woe thou tellest! Shall not the name of wife

Or mother move her?

Nurse.—

She hath heard them all:

And even as wind and water, or the call

Of lowing herds, the murmur of them goes by.

Semi-Chorus.—

I know a valley in the hills,[Pg 8]

Where echoes in the rocks and rills

Make melody; and there the cry

Of flocks is heard; and clamorous lambs

Bleat and hearken for their dams.

Whom when they hear, from far or nigh,

Swiftly along the meads they leap,

To where the milky udders swell;

And stoop, and thrust, and, nuzzling deep,

Under the heavy fleeces creep.

Then for them the world is well.

Semi-Chorus.—

I know a pool

Of waters clear and deep,

With wood-boughs overhung

And mosses green;

There in the cool

At noon, when song-birds sleep,

Oft have I seen

The swan amid her young.

Leader.—

I know a bed

Fair-strewn with linen white,

Where in my sight

One that I loved lay dead.

Her hands and her feet were bound;

With myrtle her head we crowned;

Fair she lay as a bride,

And heeded us not.

Her children clung round her and cried;

And her lord, bewailing his lot,

Bowed down at her side:

And we wept, because she had died!

(Alcestis rises to her feet, and stands with half-lifted arms in an attitude of prayer.)

Nurse.—

Now thou hast touched her! Lo, the unlighted wick

Of life stands there revealed! Go, women, quick!

Bring in the children![Pg 9]

(Exit one of the attendants. Behind the scene the children’s voices are heard.)

Hark, ah, hark, they cry!—

Lady, thy little ones! Oh, Heaven must die

And perish away from earth, if thou stay dumb

Looking on these!

(Enter the two children; they run to Alcestis with outstretched arms.)

Children.—

Mother!

Nurse.—

Oh, come, come, come!

Yea, children! ’Tis your own, returned again!

Children.—

Mother! Oh, Mother!

(Alcestis stands as one hearing a far-off cry, whose sound she remembers.)

Nurse.—

Alas! Is that cry vain?

It shall not be! Leap, child, leap to her breast!

Take hold on her with hands, give her no rest,

Cry her to pity!

Children.—

Mother!

Nurse.—

Should this not be

A call to rouse the dead? She wakes! Oh, see!

Alcestis.—

These were my children.

Nurse.—

By the Gods, ’tis true:

They are thy children, lady! What wouldst thou do?[Pg 10]

(Alcestis bends over her daughter with a strange look; she takes the child’s hair in her hands on each side lifting it, and begins plaiting it together.)

Oh, look, look, look!

Alcestis.—

And thou, also, must die

Some day, fair child, and in the grave must lie.

Hark, what I tell thee: do not rise again!

Quiet is that dwelling, and therein is no pain.

Nurse.—

What hast thou said? Is not this world more bright

Than that dim realm where man can see no light,

Nor hear no sound, nor feel no touch of hands?

Alcestis.—

Surely the light goes forth to many lands,

And seeth all things. Yet our lord, the Sun,

In heaven stands lonely, and is known of none.

Nurse.—

Yet was not great Apollo both guard and guide,

When to this palace thou camest as a bride?

And round thy chariot’s yoke such spells he cast

That lion and bear thereto stood harnessed fast.

Alcestis.—

I mind me of it. It was as thou hast said.

Therefore I came; and therefore hence went dead.

(The Nurse, turning away with a gesture of despondency, signs to an Attendant to remove the children.)

Nurse.—

Bear them away! For now I hear the voice

Of singers and of minstrels that rejoice

Because the bridegroom comes. Therefore be swift,

Bring and put on the wedding robe, and lift

Again to that fair head the bridal crown!

And thou, bright Hera, favourably look down

And bless for us this hour!

[Pg 11]

(She kneels at the feet of Alcestis.)

Oh, Mistress mine,

Surely thou knowest my heart was ever thine,

To do thee service for better and not for worse!

Alcestis.—

Yea, yea I know it! And yet thou wast my nurse!

(Stifling a sharp cry, the Nurse rises and moves away. Alcestis, robed and crowned, stands alone. The sound of music and singing draws nearer. A look of frozen horror comes over her.)

Nurse.—

Come then! for it is time: give me thy hand!

And if the Gods are gracious to this land,

Let them work wonders now!

(Exit Nurse leading Alcestis, followed by the attendant Women.)

Chorus.—

And turning my heart from sadness

I shall have done with fear,

When the sound of a people’s gladness

Grows loud in mine ear.

(The Women’s chorus goes out. Enter the Men’s Chorus.)

1st Semi-Chorus.—

Happy is he who knoweth

The hour when his soul is blest,

Who seeth the Gods in power,

And their ways made manifest;

Ready of foot, he goeth

To the goal which giveth him rest.

2nd Semi-Chorus.—[Pg 12]

So shall the breed of his race

Be as shafts in the hand of a giant,

Happy is he, and immortal,

Whose quiver is filled with their breath:

He, unashaméd of face,

Stands to the foeman defiant,

Comes undismayed to the portal

Dark with the shadow of death.

(Enter Admetus, attended.)

Chorus.—

Therefore with crownéd brows,

Thou comest rejoicing, O King;

And the Gods have wrought for thy house

A marvellous thing.

(Admetus stands before the altar, and offers incense.)

Admetus.—

First unto thee, Apollo, thanks and praise

I render, who hast given me length of days,

And life to hold, and joy, that yet on earth

Mine eyes see light, which in all hearts makes mirth.

(He offers the incense.)

And thou, Persephone, and thou, great Head,

Holy and high, upraised amid the dead,

Lord of the Dark, to whom all flesh must bow

When Fate decrees, glad thanks I render now

For my release, and hers. To thee this debt

Freely I own.

(Averting his face from the altar, he offers the incense.)

And thou great Hera, who of the highest throne[Pg 13]

Hast share in Heaven, on this once widowed bed

Look down with shining eyes, and round it shed

Sweet influences, and let the fruitful womb

Ripen with sons and daughters.

(He offers the incense.)

So shall no doom

Sap out the strength and standing of my race,

Nor my name be forgotten in this place,

Where I am King.

(Admetus turns from the altar.)

Attendant.—

My Lord, here comes thy father!

Admetus.—

Let him go!

I need him not. He lived, to be my foe.

(Enter Pheres.)

Pheres.—

My son, because, this day, blessing shines bright

On thee and thine, and to this home gives light

In place of darkness, therefore am I come

To wish thee joy. For when I saw the sum

Of thine affliction, straightway I did repent

The wrath I had against thee; yea, and sent

To tell thee so. Hast thou no word of peace

To offer in return?

Admetus.—

Yea; henceforth cease

To trouble thyself with me, or aught that’s mine!

Pheres.—

Hard words: but harder that proud heart of thine.

Admetus.—

Hard was its need, when sharp tongue bit like steel!

Pheres.—[Pg 14]

Yet, when the wound is salved, the flesh will heal.

Admetus.—

Thou, living, art the wound from which I shrink!

Pheres.—

Hadst thou thyself no stomach, but I must drink

This cup for thee?

Admetus.—

What use to thee was life,—

Being old?

Pheres.—

I loved it, better than thou thy wife!

Therefore she died for thee!

Admetus.—

Death! is thy sting

In this old serpent’s tail, that he must fling

His tainted carcase across my path this day?

Pheres.—

Pass! For no longer will I bar thy way

To bliss. Go, dull thy conscience with fresh lust;

Embrace the body which thou didst cast to dust;

Feast on the flesh again, thou carrion fly!

(Admetus advances threateningly towards him.)

Attendant. (Intervening)

My lord!

Admetus.—

Ye Gods! let him make haste to die,

For while he lives corruption taints this earth!

Pheres.—

My years are with me; and I know their worth,

Better than thou knowest thine.

(Exit Pheres.)

Attendant.—

Now is my lord

Ready? It is the hour.

Admetus.—

Yea, let the word[Pg 15]

Be given. Call in the women!

(The Minstrels clash their cymbals.)

Attendant.—

Yonder they come.

(Two Attendants enter with torches. They draw back the curtains from the doors, and stand to right and left of the bed. Enter the Nurse from doorway to right, carrying a cup. Then from the left comes in the bridal procession. In rigid silence the women walk two and two, dropping sprays of myrtle from folded napkins which they carry between them. The movement is sad and full of solemnity, sacrificial in character. They pass from left to right across the stage, descend and pass out. Alcestis, veiled, comes last, supported by two women; as she halts at left-center they fall back leaving her alone.)

Admetus.—

Therefore bid all go forth! Close and make dumb

These doors.

Leader.—

And may the eyes of Heaven look down

And bless this bridal! Hail to thee, thou crown

Of womanhood. Honour is thine this day,

And fame for ever!

(The Men’s Chorus lift their hands in salutation to Alcestis as they pass out. Exeunt. The Nurse brings the cup to Admetus; he takes it and drinks. She brings the cup to Alcestis. The two Attendants lift up and lay back her veil. The Nurse offers the cup; her hands do not take hold; with shut eyes she drinks. The Nurse goes out, followed by the two Attendants, who draw the curtains after them.)

[Pg 16]

Admetus.—

Blessing and peace be thine, O form which died,

And comest more fair to be my second bride!

For now thou shinest upon me like a star!

Alcestis.—

I give thee greeting, having journeyed far.

Admetus.—

Mine, or was thine the journey, wouldst thou say?

Alcestis.—

We have both journeyed; mine was the longer way.

Admetus.—

Bitter for thee it was to part from breath!

Alcestis.—

Life filled mine eyes; I had not looked on death.

Admetus.—

What hast thou now of hidden things to tell?

Alcestis.—

Love knows not life till it know death as well.

Admetus.—

Where found’st thou—love?

Alcestis.—

Not where the dead lie bound,

Nor here on earth one lover have I found.

Admetus.—

No lover, dost thou tell me? By this head,

I am thy lover. I swear it!

Alcestis.—

Thou hast said.

Admetus.—

Did not I choose thee first of all on earth?

Alcestis.—

The doom of God lay on me from my birth.

Admetus.—

Sweet was our bridal-chamber filled by thee!

Alcestis.—

The night was dark; I had not eyes to see.

Admetus.—

Reaching my arms I snatch thee back from fate.

Alcestis.—[Pg 17]

In one small life the little need seems great.

Admetus.—

Hadst thou no longing, then, to live again?

Alcestis.—

And not to die: therewith I strove in vain.

Admetus.—

But having died, was there no looking back?

Alcestis.—

I looked, and lo, the doors of life were black.

Admetus.—

Didst thou not love the children of thy womb?

Alcestis.—

They still were mine when I was in the tomb.

Admetus.—

Home hungered for thee, and the marriage-bed

Where thou wast fruitful.

Alcestis.—

And where I lay dead,

Having borne all!

Admetus.—

What means that stricken cry?

Found’st thou no bliss?

Alcestis.—

Yea, bliss enough to die

When thou didst ask it of me, O my lord!

Ofttimes he might have slain me with his sword:

Yet was I spared to die another death.

Admetus.—

Breathe not upon the past such bitter breath!

Great was the need, thou knowest, I had of thee!

Alcestis.—

A greater need befell: I set thee free.

Admetus.—

Was it not love which took thee to the tomb?

Alcestis.—

Thrice thou hadst planted life within my womb.

Admetus.—

Yea, thou hast given me sons which shall be men.

Alcestis.—[Pg 18]

And thrice I could have died; but did not then.

Admetus.—

What darker word is this that thou dost say?

Alcestis.—

Lo, at thy bidding, I have looked on day

And darkness, life and death; thy hand holds all.

Admetus.—

Therefore, I hold thee still: yea, and will call

Joy back to thee again!

Alcestis.—

My joy I gave

Before I died; nor took it to the grave;

Nor brought it thence.

Admetus.—

Say, then, where dwells it now?

Alcestis.—

In thee, if thou be joyful; but if thou

Hast not found joy, then was all given in vain.

Admetus.—

Soon from thy body joy shall spring again,

Yielding fresh life.

Alcestis.—

So Earth must give her yield

Unto the hand of him who ploughs the field.

Admetus.—

And binds the sheaves!

(He clasps her in his arms.)

Come, come, oh, quick Desire,

Kindle within this heart its wonted fire!

Alcestis.—

My flesh is thine: the life therein my own.

Admetus.—

To me, thy lover, turn not this heart of stone!

Greater my love for thee than e’er before!

Alcestis.—

Since it is greater, dost thou ask for more?

Admetus.—[Pg 19]

Yea, for I thirst! Let the Gods give thee bliss!

Alcestis.—

What God in heaven or hell shall grant me this?

Admetus.—

Ask of Apollo: he that made thee mine!

Alcestis.—

Of that vine-treading thou hast drunk the wine.

Admetus.—

Give me to drink again! Come! for I call!

Alcestis.—

Again thou askest of me, and I give—all.

(Falling back in his arms, she dies.)

Admetus.—

Now art thou mine! O bride of every sense!

(He bears her to the bed.)

Ah, what cold horror’s this? Breath has gone hence!

Warmth, touch, sight, hearing! Help! Lo, unto earth

Where God sent blessing, a curse hath sprung to birth!

Apollo, thy dart hath slain me!

(Enter Nurse.)

Nurse.—

What means that cry?

Admetus.—

She is dead! She is dead! Clasping, I felt her die!

Nurse.—

Oh, woe is me, my mistress! Oh, my lord!

Admetus.—

Yea, deep into my breast she thrust a sword,

So much she hated me!

Nurse.—

Oh, woe, woe, woe![Pg 20]

Admetus.—

Death won her love, and Life became her foe!

(He covers his face with his robe.)

Nurse.—

O Child, is it I that have slain thee?

For surely thy heart I read,

And saw how thy face was set.

But mine were the hands to chain thee

To the life that thou wouldst forget,

And to bring thee back from the dead.

(While she is speaking, others enter: the Women’s Chorus, the Attendants, and two Children. They stand awe-struck looking on.)

Nurse.—

I knew thy heart,

Patient and tender; no grief

Failed ever to touch thee; no smart,

But with thee found relief.

But thou hadst a grief unknown:

Silently, down to the grave, thou hast borne it alone.

Admetus.—

Lift up your voices and cry! O women, shall she not wake?

Chorus.—

Wake, mistress, awake!

Admetus.—

She lived, she rose, she returned from the dead, having died for my sake.

Chorus.—

For his sake!

For our sake!

Admetus.—

Earth had not stained her: her body was sweet, and her form

Was fair to the eyes![Pg 21]

Chorus.—

Oh, the eyes, the eyes!

Admetus.—

She lay on my breast, she was warm

To my touch, and the prize

Was mine!

Chorus.—

The prize! ah, the prize!

Admetus.—

Oh, God, have the years to give

Naught but this double death,

Of the lips that did once so live,

And were twice so parted from breath?

Chorus.—

Oh, Lady, awake, return! Put off this showing

Of death! Repent of thy going!

Oh, Mother, return!

(Enter Pheres.)

Pheres.—

Fools! Why do ye call on the dead

Who hear not? Never again

Shall voices burden that ear.

Death untasted is feared; but tasted is sweet,

And the heart where that honey hath lain

Feels hunger no more.

Yea, cover the feet that walk not;

Yea, cover the eyes!

Night for me is not yet; but there like a lover he lies.

Look, there is peace in that breast,

And her face is a star.

Old of foot, to the grave without rest

I go: but the journey is far.

(Exit Pheres.)

Admetus.—

In the heart that my heart would cherish,[Pg 22]

The gift of the Gods wrought scorn.

She is gone from me. Let the day perish

Wherein I was born!

Chorus.—

Death comes early or late;

And surely the dead are blest.

But I must carry the weight

Of my years to a far-off grave,

Lying I know not where.

Yonder, to cover mine eyes,

Grass grows, and the green leaves wave;

And the gold of the sun lies there,

All bright and at rest.

CURTAIN.