Alexander Revisited:
The Final Cut

Macedonia - 10 Years Earliear.

Olympias:
Pregnant so soon, the little whore. He will marry her in the spring, during Dionysus’ Festival. And when her first son is born, her sweet uncle Attalus will convince Philip to name the boy his successor, with himself as regent. And you, you will be sent on some impossible mission against some monstrous Northern tribe to be mutilated in one more meaningless battle over cattle. And I, no longer queen, will be put to death with your sister and the remaining members of our family.

Alexander:
I wish sometimes you could see the light, Mother. The truth is, he’s taken nothing from you that you’ve not been long without.

Olympias:
The only way is to strike. Announce your marriage to a Macedonian now. Beget a child of pureblood. He would be one of them, not mine. And he would have no choice but to make you a king. There is still Kynnane. Eurydice was perfect. If your father, that pig, had not ravaged her first!

Alexander:
Speak nothing more of my father. Do you hear me? Say nothing.

Olympias:
You’re right. Forgive me. A mother loves too much. Who shall I sing to sleep at night anymore? I wish-- I wish we could spend more time together. Like we used to, when you were the sweetest boy.

Alexander:
There’s never been time, Mother. Since I was a child, I’ve been groomed to be ever the best.

Olympias:
My poor child, you’re like Achilles, cursed by your greatness. Yes, take my strength.
You must never confuse your feelings with your duties, Alexander. A king must make public gestures for the common people. I know, but you will be 19 this summer, and already the girls are saying you don’t like them, you like Hephaistion more. I understand. It’s natural for a young man. But if you go to Asia without leaving a successor, you risk all.

Alexander:
Hephastion loves me, as I am. Not who.

Olympias:
Loves. Love? In the name of Dionysus... Understand how Philip thinks, for your own sake. Your life hangs in balance. I know these things, Alexander. You are nothing to him. His spies are inside your closest circle, to ensure that you don’t plot against him. And still, you sleep. You will not live out this year, unless you act! 

Alexander:
Stop! I’m his only worthy son. You crazed woman. He’d never hurt me. Even if Eurydice had a son, he’d be 20 before he’d let him rule.

Olympias:
Yes, and you would be 40. Old, and wise, like Parmenion. And Philip’s young son would be 20. Like you now, but raised by him, his blood. He will never give you the throne now, Alexander. Never.

Alexander:
What would you have me do?

Olympias:
Whatever is necessary.

Alexander:
Where have you lost your mind? It’d be civil war, clan against clan, chaos.

Olympias:
Yes. And you would win. Because the young ones love you like a god.

Alexander:
I forbid you to ever talk to me like that! Such a man would be forever chased by the Furies.

Olympias:
What have you to fear from the Furies for killing an impostor to the throne, before he murders you and your mother? Why won’t you ever believe me? Philip did not want you. You had a condition of the breathing. And he wanted to leave you in mountains for the birds to pecked at your eyes. What you don’t know, my poor child. 

Alexander:
Lanice knows nothing of this.

Olympias:
Lanice. I was there. Lanice was not. No, Alexander. Zeus is your father. I laid with him that night in the wind as sure as any mortal man. Never had I been made love to as I was then.

Alexander:
Enough. Half the mothers in Greece shared such a fantasy. I warn you, Mother. Make no mistake. You will treat this girl as nothing more important that his other wives. You will behave as we always have. As the first. I wonder, did you ever love him?

Olympias:
What? I never stopped.