The Collected Short Plays of Thornton Wilder, Volume II

  AGLAIA: Clear? Open? Even at Delphi the sibyl is delirious; she raves; she is beside herself. Who ever heard of them speaking clearly?

  ALCESTIS (Turning with irresolute step toward the palace, in despair): I am alone, alone . . .

  AGLAIA (Firmly but affectionately): Now listen to me, Princess. Go to your room and sleep. (Looking upward) It is two hours to noon. If, after a little rest, you are still of the same mind, you can go on any journey you want, and no one will try to stop you. (Holding Alcestis’s elbow, she guides her to the palace doors, prattling in maternal fashion) You want the gods to speak to us clearly and openly, Princess? What can you be thinking they are, Princess? I hope you don’t think of them as men!

  (Both exit into the palace. For a moment the stage is empty. A sound of voices at the gate rises almost to clamor. Pounding and knocking at right. The Watchman comes around the palace up center.)

  WATCHMAN: Well, now, what’s that? What’s all this noise? (Opens the gate and talks through it, ajar) The wedding guests enter at the gate in front of the palace. This is the rear gate. What? Don’t everybody talk at once! What? Very well, very well. Let the old man in.

  (Enter Teiresias, blind, unbelievably old, irascible, truculent, domineering, and very near to senile incoherence. One hand is on the shoulder of a Boy who guides him; the other ceaselessly brandishes a great stick. Townspeople follow him into the court; and some Servants come into the court both from the palace doors and from around the palace.)

  TEIRESIAS (Surprisingly loud and strong): Is this the palace of Minos, King of Crete?

  (Laughter; the Boy starts pulling his sleeve and whispering into his ear.)

  I mean, is this the palace of Oedipus, King of Thebes?

  (Striking the Boy with his stick) Stop pulling at me! I know what I’m saying.

  (Warding off those pressing about him) Bees, wasps, and hornets!

  WATCHMAN: No, old man. This is the palace of Admetus, King of Thessaly.

  TEIRESIAS (Repeating his words): King of Thessaly. Well, that’s what I said. That’s what I meant. Call Admetus, King of Thessaly. I have a message for him.

  WATCHMAN: Old man, the king is to be married today. He is busy with his guests. You sit here in the sun now; we shall wash your feet. The king will come and hear you later.

  TEIRESIAS (Threatening with his stick): Marrying . . . washing. What have I got to do with marrying and washing? I’ll not wait a minute. (Stamping) Call King What’s-his-name.

  (Enter Aglaia from the palace.)

  AGLAIA: Who are you, old man? I shall tell the king—

  TEIRESIAS: —Tell the king that I am Delphi, priest of Teiresias—Apollo, priest of Delphi . . . Boy, what is this I’m saying? (Boy whispers) Tell the king I am Teiresias, priest of Apollo. That I come from Delphi with a message and that I am in a hurry to go back there.

  AGLAIA: You are Teiresias? Teiresias!

  WATCHMAN AND BYSTANDERS: Teiresias!

  TEIRESIAS (Beating with his stick on the ground): Call the king! Plague and pestilence! Call King What’s-his-name.

  AGLAIA: Coming, great Teiresias.

  (She is hurrying to the palace door as it opens and Admetus comes out. More Servants gather.)

  ADMETUS: What is it? Who is this, Aglaia?

  AGLAIA (Confidentially): It is Teiresias, come from Delphi.

  ADMETUS: Teiresias!

  AGLAIA (Points to her forehead): As old as the mountains, King Admetus.

  ADMETUS: Welcome, welcome, noble Teiresias, my father’s old friend. Welcome to Pherai. I am Admetus, King of Thessaly.

  TEIRESIAS (Waving his stick): Back. Stand back. All this crowding and pushing . . . Have you ears, fellow?

  ADMETUS: Yes, Teiresias.

  TEIRESIAS: Then pull the wax out of them and listen to what the God says.

  ADMETUS: They are open, Teiresias.

  TEIRESIAS: Atreus, King of Mycenae, hear what the God says—

  ADMETUS: —Atreus? Noble Teiresias, I am Admetus, King of—

  TEIRESIAS: —Admetus? All right—Admetus, then. Hold your tongue and let me get my message out. I bring a message to you from Apollo’s temple at Delphi. An honor, a great honor has come to Thessaly. Boy, is this Thessaly? (He puts hands on the Boy’s head; the Boy nods) A great honor and a great peril has come to Thessaly.

  ADMETUS: A peril, Teiresias?

  TEIRESIAS: An honor and a peril. A peril is an honor, fool. No—an honor is a peril. Don’t you know the first things up here in Thessaly?

  ADMETUS: One moment, Teiresias. A message to me is also a message to my future queen. Aglaia, call the princess.

  (Aglaia hurries into the palace.)

  Today I am to be married to Alcestis, daughter of King Pelias of Iolcos. No guest is more to be honored than Teiresias. Rest first, Teiresias . . .

  TEIRESIAS: There are ten thousand weddings. Let this queen make haste. Hear me, Minos, King of Crete . . . Boy, what is his name? (Boy whispers) Well, what does it matter? Is this queen here?

  (Enter from the palace Alcestis, breathless with wonder.)

  ADMETUS: She is here.

  ALCESTIS: Noble Teiresias . . . great Teiresias! My father’s old friend. I am Alcestis, daughter of King Pelias of Iolcos.

  TEIRESIAS (Waving his stick testily at those pressing around him): Back! Keep back! Geese and ducks and quacklings. Silence and hold your tongues. Zeus, father of gods and men, has commanded . . . has commanded . . . Boy, what has he commanded? (Boy whispers. Teiresias strikes him) Well, you don’t have to run on . . . Has commanded that Apollo, my master—that Apollo come down from Olympus; and that he live on earth for one year, solstice to solstice . . . live as a man among men. I have given my message. Boy, lead me to the road. (He turns to go)

  ALCESTIS (While the Boy whispers into Teiresias’s ear): Apollo is to live on the earth?

  TEIRESIAS (To the Boy): Yes, yes. Don’t deafen me. And Apollo, my master, has chosen to live here—(He strikes the ground with his stick) —here as a servant of Admetus, King of Thessaly.

  ADMETUS: Here? Here, noble Teiresias? (Goes quickly to him) One moment more, Teiresias. How do I understand this? You do not mean, divine Teiresias, that Apollo will be here, with us, as a servant, every day? With us, each day?

  (As all watch him breathlessly, Teiresias, hand to brow, seems to fall into a deep sleep. Suddenly he awakes and says:)

  TEIRESIAS: Outside the gate are four herdsmen. They are to be your servants for a year. Assign them their duties. One of them is Apollo.

  ADMETUS (Repeating): One of them is Apollo?

  TEIRESIAS: Four herdsmen. One of them is Apollo. Do not try to know which one is the God. I do not know. You will never know. And ask me no more questions, for I have no more answers. Boy, call the herdsmen.

  (The Boy goes out. Silence.)

  ADMETUS: Teiresias, should we not . . . fall on our knees, on our faces?

  TEIRESIAS: You do not listen to what’s said to you. Apollo is here, as a man. As a man. As a common herdsman or shepherd . . . Do as I do!

  (The Boy returns and presses close to Teiresias. Enter the Four Herdsmen. They are dusty, dirty, unshaven, common oafs. They are deeply abashed by the great folk before them, touch their forelocks obsequiously, shuffle into a line against the wall, and don’t know what to do with their eyes. Two have great wineskins; all have big sticks. Teiresias speaks gruffly to them.)

  TEIRESIAS: Come, don’t be slow about it. Make your bow to your new master. Anyone can see you’ve been drinking. A nice way to begin your service. (Waving his stick) If I had eyes to see, I’d beat you. Forward; pick up your feet. Boy, are they all four here? Well, has the king lost his voice?

  ADMETUS (Pulling himself together): You are welcome to Thessaly. You are welcome to the wedding feast, for I am to be married today. Tomorrow I shall assign you your herds and flocks. You have made a long journey. You are welcome to Thessaly . . . Teiresias, you, too, have made a long journey. Will you not bathe and rest?

  TEIRESIA
S: I have a longer journey to go. My message has been delivered. Boy, lead me out the gate.

  ALCESTIS (Coming to a few steps before him; in a low voice): Divine Teiresias? Have you no message for Alcestis?

  TEIRESIAS: Who’s this woman?

  ALCESTIS: I am Alcestis, daughter of King Pelias of Iolcos. I sent many messages and offerings to Delphi and—

  TEIRESIAS: —Messages and offerings. There are mountains of them. Boy, lead me to the road.

  (But the Boy keeps pulling at his sleeve and shoulder and trying to whisper to him.)

  Oh, yes, I had a message for some girl or woman—for Jocasta, or Alcestis, or Dejaneira, or I care not whom, but I have forgotten it. Boy, stop dragging at me! (He strikes the Boy with his stick) Worthless! Impudent! (The Boy falls. Teiresias continues to beat him)

  BOY (Screaming): Teiresias! Help! Help! King Admetus!

  ADMETUS: Surely, great Teiresias, the boy has not—

  ALCESTIS: —It was a small fault, Teiresias. I beg you spare the boy. He will learn.

  TEIRESIAS (Suddenly stopping and peering at Alcestis): Whatever your name is: Jocasta, Leda, Hermione—

  ALCESTIS: —Alcestis.

  TEIRESIAS: I had a message for some girl, but I have forgotten it. Or else I’ve delivered it already. That’s it: I’ve delivered it. By thunder and lightning, by the holy tripod—what use is Delphi if men and women cannot learn to listen?

  (Teiresias is following the Boy out of the gate, when Admetus takes some steps forward.)

  ADMETUS: You said . . . you said there was peril, Teiresias?

  TEIRESIAS (Half out of the gate): Of course there’s peril, imbecile. When they (Brusque gesture upward) draw near it is always peril.

  ADMETUS: But my father said that Apollo has always loved Thessaly . . .

  TEIRESIAS: Yes—love, love, love. Let them keep their love to themselves. Look at me: five-six hundred years old and pretty well loved by the gods and I am not allowed to die. If the gods didn’t love men, we’d all be happy; and the other way round is true, too: if we men didn’t love the gods, we’d all be happy. (Exit, with the Boy)

  (A bewildered pause. Admetus collects himself and says in a more matter-of-fact, authoritative tone to the Four Herdsmen:)

  ADMETUS: Again, you are welcome to Thessaly and to Pherai.

  (To the Watchman) See that they are well provided for.

  (Again to the Herdsmen) I am happy that you are to be guests at my wedding today.

  (Admetus and all on the stage watch in confused awe as the Watchman guides them down the path to the spring. They pass Admetus with servile timidity; by the spring they stretch out, pass the wineskin from one to another; one promptly falls asleep. Admetus has not looked at Alcestis. Partly to her and partly to himself, he says reflectively:)

  I do not know what to think of these things . . . I am a mere herdsman myself. Alcestis, there is great need of you in Pherai.

  (He stretches his hand out behind him. She, frozen in thought, does not take it.)

  I must return to my guests.

  (With a last echo of his awe) I do not know what to think of these things.

  (Then with a smile) Alcestis, there is an old custom here in Thessaly that a bridegroom should not see the face of his bride until the evening of his wedding day. This has been said for many hundreds of years. Is there also such a custom at Iolcos?

  ALCESTIS (Low): Yes, Admetus.

  ADMETUS (Passing her with youthful vigor, his hand shielding his face): Hereafter—by the God’s gift—I may look upon your face until I die.

  (At the door of the palace, he is arrested by a thought. Still shielding his face, he comes in slow deliberation to the point of the stage, overhanging the Herdsmen by the spring. After taking a deep breath of resolution, he says with unemphatic directness:)

  Apollo, friend of my father and my ancestors and my land, I am a simple man, devout. I am not learned in piety. If, in ignorance, I blunder and fall short, may he who has been the friend of my house and my people forgive me. You have come on a day when I am the happiest of all men. Continue your favor to me and to my descendants . . . (Slight pause) I am not skilled in speech. You can read all minds. Read what is in mine, or rather . . . yourself plant in my mind those wishes which only you can fulfill. (He turns and goes quickly into the palace)

  (Alcestis has not ceased to keep her eyes on the Herdsmen, half in longing and half in doubt and repulsion—though they are now hidden from where she is standing, murmuring.)

  ALCESTIS: Is Apollo there?

  AGLAIA: Princess!

  ALCESTIS: One of those? And could that old man have been Teiresias of Delphi—that broken, crazy old man?

  AGLAIA (Really shocked; firmly): Do not doubt these things, Princess.

  ALCESTIS (After taking a few steps toward them; in sudden resolve): Leave me alone with them.

  (Aglaia makes a gesture to the Watchman and both go out. During the following speech, though one Herdsman is asleep and snoring, the others are embarrassed by her presence. The wineskin is being passed around; they scarcely dare to raise their eyes to her.)

  Are you here? I have spoken to you a thousand times—to the sky and the stars and the sun. And I have sent messages to Delphi. Are you now, truly, within the hearing of my voice?

  (Silence, broken by a snore and a grunt.)

  Some say that you do not exist. Some say that the gods are far away; they are feasting on Olympus, or are asleep, or drunk. I have offered you my life. You know that I have wished to live only for you: to learn—to be taught by you—the meaning of our life.

  (No answer.)

  Are we human beings to be left without any sign, any word? Are we abandoned?

  (She waits another second above the embarrassed silence of the Herdsmen, then turns toward the palace, and says to herself, bitterly:)

  Then we must find our way by ourselves . . . and life is a meaningless grasping at this and that; it is a passionate nonsense . . .

  (The First Herdsman—the dirtiest, most insignificant of the four—rises. He touches his cap in humble embarrassment and says:)

  HERDSMAN: Princess, did that old man say that there was a god among us? Did I hear him say that? The God Apollo? Then, lady, I am as surprised as you are. Lady, for thirty days we four have walked all across Greece. We have drunk from the same wineskin; we have put our hands in the same dish; we have slept by the same fire. If there had been a god among us, would I not have known it?

  (Alcestis, in hope and revulsion, has taken several steps toward him.)

  By all I value, lady, I swear we are just ordinary herdsmen. Ignorant herdsmen. But . . . but one thing I will say, lady: we are not quite ordinary herdsmen. Why, that fellow there—the one that’s snoring: there’s no illness he cannot cure. Snakebite or a broken back. Yet I know that he is not a god, Princess. And that fellow beside him, that one! (He goes forward and kicks the Herdsman) Can’t you stop drinking while the princess is looking at you? He never loses his way. In the darkest night he knows his north from his south and his east from his west. Oh, it’s wonderful. Yet I know well that he’s not the god of the sun. (Adding under his breath) Besides, his habits are filthy, are filthy.

  ALCESTIS (Barely breathing it): And that one?

  HERDSMAN: That man? He’s our singer.

  ALCESTIS: Ah!

  HERDSMAN: Believe me, when he plays the lyre and sings—oh, Princess! It is true that at times I have said to myself, “Surely this is a god.” He can fill us to the brim with joy or sadness when we have no reason at all to be joyful or sad. He can make the memory of love more sweet than love itself. But, Princess, he is no god. (As though she had contradicted him; with sudden argumentative energy) How can he be a god when he’s in misery all the time and drinking himself to death? Killing himself, you might say, before our own eyes. The gods don’t hate themselves, Princess.

  ALCESTIS: And you?

  HERDSMAN: I? I, Apollo? Not only am I not Apollo, but I’m not ready to believe that Apol
lo is here.

  ALCESTIS: Teiresias . . . Teiresias said . . .

  HERDSMAN: Was that Teiresias—that half-witted, crumbling old man? Can they find no better messenger than that? Can’t they say what they have to say in any clearer way than this?

  (Again Alcestis turns toward the palace; then turns toward the Herdsman and says, as though talking to herself:)

  ALCESTIS: Then we are indeed miserable. Not only because we have no aid, but because we are cheated with the hope that we might have aid . . .

  HERDSMAN (Taking more steps onto the stage): But if they did exist, these gods, how would they speak to us? In what language would they talk to us? Compared to them, we are diseased and dying and deaf and blind and as busy as clowns. Why, there are some who even say that they love us. Could you understand that? What kind of love is that, Princess, when there is so great a gulf between the lovers? (He starts to return to his place in the path) That would be an unhappy love, no doubt about that.

  ALCESTIS (Earnestly and sharply): No, not unhappy!

  HERDSMAN (With equal spirit): Yes. For if they showed themselves to us in their glory, it would kill us.

  (Pause) I did have an idea this morning: maybe there is another way—a way to bridge that gulf, I mean. Maybe they can find a way to bring those they love up—up nearer to them. If Teiresias is right, Apollo is here in Thessaly. Now, maybe that foolish old man got his message wrong. Maybe he was supposed to say that Apollo is here divided up among many people—us four herdsmen and others! Take Admetus, for example. I’ve only seen him for a few hours. I must confess, Princess, at first I was very disappointed in Admetus. There’s nothing very extraordinary about him. Did you ever see Hercules, Princess?

  ALCESTIS (Nods her head slightly): Yes.

  HERDSMAN (Suddenly recollecting): Ah, yes. He sought your hand. There’s a man! Hercules, son of Zeus and Alcmene. And you can see it at once. I’ve seen a dozen better men than Admetus. But . . . slowly I began to see that King Admetus has something that all those other heroes haven’t got. . . . The world changes; it changes slowly. What good would this world be, Princess, unless new kinds of men came into it—and new kinds of women?