Alcestis | Page 2

been known from the
remnants of the ancient Didascalia, or official notice of production, that
the Alcestis was produced as the fourth play of a series; that is, it took
the place of a Satyr-play. It is what we may call Pro-satyric. (See the
present writer's introduction to the Rhesus.) And we should note for
what it is worth the observation in the ancient Greek argument: "The
play is somewhat satyr-like ([Greek: saturiphkoteron]). It ends in
rejoicing and gladness against the tragic convention."
Now we are of late years beginning to understand much better what a
Satyr-play was. Satyrs have, of course, nothing to do with satire, either

etymologically or otherwise. Satyrs are the attendant daemons who
form the Kômos, or revel rout, of Dionysus. They are represented in
divers fantastic forms, the human or divine being mixed with that of
some animal, especially the horse or wild goat. Like Dionysus himself,
they are connected in ancient religion with the Renewal of the Earth in
spring and the resurrection of the dead, a point which students of the
Alcestis may well remember. But in general they represent mere joyous
creatures of nature, unthwarted by law and unchecked by self-control.
Two notes are especially struck by them: the passions and the absurdity
of half-drunken revellers, and the joy and mystery of the wild things in
the forest.
The rule was that after three tragedies proper there came a play, still in
tragic diction, with a traditional saga plot and heroic characters, in
which the Chorus was formed by these Satyrs. There was a deliberate
clash, an effect of burlesque; but of course the clash must not be too
brutal. Certain characters of the heroic saga are, so to speak, at home
with Satyrs and others are not. To take our extant specimens of
Satyr-plays, for instance: in the Cyclops we have Odysseus, the heroic
trickster; in the fragmentary Ichneutae of Sophocles we have the
Nymph Cyllene, hiding the baby Hermes from the chorus by the most
barefaced and pleasant lying; later no doubt there was an entrance of
the infant thief himself. Autolycus, Sisyphus, Thersites are all
Satyr-play heroes and congenial to the Satyr atmosphere; but the most
congenial of all, the one hero who existed always in an atmosphere of
Satyrs and the Kômos until Euripides made him the central figure of a
tragedy, was Heracles. [Footnote: The character of Heracles in
connexion with the Kômos, already indicated by Wilamowitz and
Dieterich (Herakles, pp. 98, ff.; Pulcinella, pp. 63, ff.), has been
illuminatingly developed in an unpublished monograph by Mr. J.A.K.
Thomson, of Aberdeen.]
The complete Satyr-play had a hero of this type and a Chorus of Satyrs.
But the complete type was refined away during the fifth century; and
one stage in the process produced a play with a normal chorus but with
one figure of the Satyric or "revelling" type. One might almost say the
"comic" type if, for the moment, we may remember that that word is
directly derived from 'Kômos.'
The Alcestis is a very clear instance of this Pro-satyric class of play. It

has the regular tragic diction, marked here and there (393, 756, 780,
etc.) by slight extravagances and forms of words which are sometimes
epic and sometimes over-colloquial; it has a regular saga plot, which
had already been treated by the old poet Phrynichus in his Alcestis, a
play which is now lost but seems to have been Satyric; and it has one
character straight from the Satyr world, the heroic reveller, Heracles. It
is all in keeping that he should arrive tired, should feast and drink and
sing; should be suddenly sobered and should go forth to battle with
Death. It is also in keeping that the contest should have a
half-grotesque and half-ghastly touch, the grapple amid the graves and
the cracking ribs.
* * * * *
So much for the traditional form. As for the subject, Euripides received
it from Phrynichus, and doubtless from other sources. We cannot be
sure of the exact form of the story in Phrynichus. But apparently it told
how Admetus, King of Pherae in Thessaly, received from Apollo a
special privilege which the God had obtained, in true Satyric style, by
making the Three Fates drunk and cajoling them. This was that, when
his appointed time for death came, he might escape if he could find
some volunteer to die for him. His father and mother, from whom the
service might have been expected, refused to perform it. His wife,
Alcestis, though no blood relation, handsomely undertook it and died.
But it so happened that Admetus had entertained in his house the
demi-god, Heracles; and when Heracles heard what had happened, he
went out and wrestled with Death, conquered him, and brought Alcestis
home.
Given this