Alcestis | Page 3

form and this story, the next question is: What did Euripides
make of them? The general answer is clear: he has applied his usual
method. He accepts the story as given in the tradition, and then
represents it in his own way. When the tradition in question is really
heroic, we know what his way is. He preserves, and even emphasizes,
the stateliness and formality of the Attic stage conventions; but, in the
meantime, he has subjected the story and its characters to a keener
study and a more sensitive psychological judgment than the simple
things were originally meant to bear. So that many characters which
passed as heroic, or at least presentable, in the kindly remoteness of
legend, reveal some strange weakness when brought suddenly into the

light. When the tradition is Satyric, as here, the same process produces
almost an opposite effect. It is somewhat as though the main plot of a
gross and jolly farce were pondered over and made more true to human
character till it emerged as a refined and rather pathetic comedy. The
making drunk of the Three Grey Sisters disappears; one can only just
see the trace of its having once been present. The revelling of Heracles
is touched in with the lightest of hands; it is little more than symbolic.
And all the figures in the story, instead of being left broadly comic or
having their psychology neglected, are treated delicately,
sympathetically, with just that faint touch of satire, or at least of
amusement, which is almost inseparable from a close interest in
character.
What was Admetus really like, this gallant prince who had won the
affection of such great guests as Apollo and Heracles, and yet went
round asking other people to die for him; who, in particular, accepted
his wife's monstrous sacrifice with satisfaction and gratitude? The play
portrays him well. Generous, innocent, artistic, affectionate, eloquent,
impulsive, a good deal spoilt, unconsciously insincere, and no doubt
fundamentally selfish, he hates the thought of dying and he hates losing
his wife almost as much. Why need she die? Why could it not have
been some one less important to him? He feels with emotion what a
beautiful act it would have been for his old father. "My boy, you have a
long and happy life before you, and for me the sands are well-nigh run
out. Do not seek to dissuade me. I will die for you." Admetus could
compose the speech for him. A touching scene, a noble farewell, and all
the dreadful trouble solved--so conveniently solved! And the miserable
self-blinded old man could not see it!
Euripides seems to have taken positive pleasure in Admetus, much as
Meredith did in his famous Egoist; but Euripides all through is kinder
to his victim than Meredith is. True, Admetus is put to obvious shame,
publicly and helplessly. The Chorus make discreet comments upon him.
The Handmaid is outspoken about him. One feels that Alcestis herself,
for all her tender kindness, has seen through him. Finally, to make
things quite clear, his old father fights him openly, tells him home-truth
upon home-truth, tears away all his protective screens, and leaves him
with his self-respect in tatters. It is a fearful ordeal for Admetus, and,
after his first fury, he takes it well. He comes back from his wife's

burial a changed man. He says not much, but enough. "I have done
wrong. I have only now learnt my lesson. I imagined I could save my
happy life by forfeiting my honour; and the result is that I have lost
both." I think that a careful reading of the play will show an almost
continuous process of self-discovery and self-judgment in the mind of
Admetus. He was a man who blinded himself with words and beautiful
sentiments; but he was not thick-skinned or thick-witted. He was not a
brute or a cynic. And I think he did learn his lesson ... not completely
and for ever, but as well as most of us learn such lessons.
The beauty of Alcestis is quite untouched by the dramatist's keener
analysis. The strong light only increases its effect. Yet she is not by any
means a mere blameless ideal heroine; and the character which
Euripides gives her makes an admirable foil to that of Admetus. Where
he is passionate and romantic, she is simple and homely. While he is
still refusing to admit the facts and beseeching her not to "desert" him,
she in a gentle but businesslike way makes him promise to take care of
the children and, above all things, not to marry again. She could not
possibly trust Admetus's choice. She is sure that the step-mother would
be unkind to the children. She might be a horror and beat them (l. 307).
And when Admetus