dennis daly sophocles’ ajax - wilderness house ... house literary review 6/4 dennis daly...

Wilderness House Literary Review 6/4

Dennis Daly

SOPHOCLES’ AJAX©2012 Dennis Daly

IntroductionSophocles lived during the golden age of ancient Greece. He was born around

496 BC in Colonus, just outside of Athens, and died 90 years later. He probably came from a wealthy merchant family and lived what many would think of as a near perfect life. So the dry facts seem to say.

At sixteen years of age Sophocles led the paean, celebrating a decisive Greek victory over the Persians at Salamis. This was more than just an everyday honor. You needed the physique, athleticism, a stage presence and the ability to sing. Sophocles held numerous civic positions of high honor including treasurer, gen-eral (he served with the legendary Pericles), priest, and commissioner. His friends included the great historian Herodotus.

Of all of Sophocles’ 123 plays only seven survive. They are Oedipus Rex, Antigone, Oedipus at Colonus, Electra, Women of Trachis, Philoctetes, and Ajax. Sophocles wrote his plays specifically as entries for the Dionysia festivals held annually in Athens. Playwrights usually entered four plays at a time into these competitions. The so-called Theban plays of Sophocles, Oedipus Rex, Antigone, and Oedipus at Colonus, were never entered together, but were each entered with another set of plays. Early on Sophocles bested his older rival Aeschylus and never looked back winning many more competitions than either Aeschylus or his young-er rival, Euripides.

The power of these tragedies and their subject matter belie the official biogra-phy of Sophocles. The dramatist simply understood shame, degradation, alien-ation, despair and madness a little too well. His view of the gods as overbearing and at times dicey characters does not appear consistent with Sophocles, the priest and pillar of the community. Since it is too late to amend the few extant facts that make up Sophocles’ biography, to know him better one must read his tragedies and there is no better starting point than Ajax.

iAfter Achilles, Ajax is the greatest of the Greek warriors that have come to

Troy. However Odysseus has triumphed over him in a contest for the armor of Achilles. Hatred for Odysseus, and the generals, who rigged the contest, Agamemnon, and Menelaus, drives Ajax mad. He plots to murder them for their duplicity. The goddess Athena then intervenes.

In Ajax, madness leads to shame and shame leads to self-knowledge and nobil-ity, a nobility that not only puts the pettiness of the gods in a strange light, but is transformational. Human pride and arrogance, as personified in Ajax, are routed. The plebian fears of Ajax’s followers serve to emphasize the newly- found matu-rity of their leader, albeit a bit late. Ajax’s wisdom in turn echoes off the loyalty of Tecmessa, his wife, the generosity of Odysseus, his sworn enemy, and the devotion of Teucer, his admirable brother. In the end Ajax wins his victory in death. His body is allowed a ritual burial, guaranteeing his proper entry into the afterlife. Thus harmony returns to the human condition.

Soundings East published three excerpts of Ajax in Vol. 5 No. 2.


Dennis Daly

SOPHOCLES’ AJAXATHENA

Son of Laertes, you have always amazedMe by your ability to gain some slightEdge over even the most awesomeOf adversaries. And now I find youWhere the mighty Ajax’s tent is pitchedTo protect the army’s flank from suddenAssault. Like an eager Spartan hound you seemTo have picked up the scent of fresh tracks.Indeed your nose has not failed you; at thisVery moment the prey you seek is within,His face and murderous hands drenched in bloodAnd sweat. So stop peering around doorsAnd tell me the reason for this conduct.I may be able to help.

ODYSSEUSAthena! How happy I am to hear your voice,The voice which of all the gods is dearestTo me. As to the sound of TyrrhenianTrumpet, my soul thrills to its summons.Yes, you have guessed rightly, I am on the trailOf Ajax, possessor of the seven-foldShield. I’ve been following him for hours.Last night he carried out an incredibleAttack against us. Or at least we thinkIt was he. The facts at this point are stillNot very clear. I have offered to track downThe perpetrator of the deed and discoverHis motive. This much we know: our Trojan spoils,All of our cattle and sheep, were foundButchered this morning, along with the menWhom we had posted to guard them. Everyone


— 2 —

Believes it was Ajax. Also, someone claimsTo have seen him running wildly acrossThe campground with his sword unsheathed and bloody.After questioning the man, I foundThis trail which led me here; but I’m confused.Obviously, some of these footprintsAre not his. You come just when I needYou, Athena. Many times in the pastYou have guided me. Will you help me now?

ATHENAYes, Odysseus, why do you supposeThat I came all this way, if not to assistYou in your pursuit.

ODYSSEUSThen tell me, goddess, is my time well spent here?

ATHENAThe man you seek is within; it was his doing.

ODYSSEUSWhat could have provoked him to such slaughter?

ATHENAHis jealous anger at the lossOf Achilles armour, which was given to you.

ODYSSEUSI understand; but why attack the beasts.

ATHENAHe believed that the blood he was lettingWas the blood of men, not of beasts.


— 3 —

ODYSSEUSWe were the objects of this assault? His own comrades?

ATHENAYou were. And you would be dead by nowIf it were not for my intervention.

ODYSSEUSHow could he attempt this? What was his plan?

ATHENATo fall upon you under the cover of night.

ODYSSEUSHow near did he get?

ATHENAThe entrance way of the Atridae’s tent.

ODYSSEUSThen who checked his hand, preventing murder?

ATHENAIt was I who stole from him his triumphBlinding him to the truth with insane delusionsWhich caused him to turn his anger on the penned-in Herds of cattle and flocks of sheep, the undividedBooty of the army. He struck them first on the right,Then on the left, hacking away in a bloodyCircle, dead and wounded carcasses piling upEverywhere, and all the while he believedThat he had Agamemnon in his grip And would cut his head off, or that heWas thrusting his sword into Menalaus’ heart,Or that he was battling some other


— 4 —

Renowned warrior. And I, while he wasIn this maniacal state, urged him on.Finally when he tired from the killingHe bound up the animals left alive—Still believing them human—and droveThem back to his tent. He is torturingThem now. A gruesome sight! But you willSoon see with your own eyes, and whateverYou see you must report to the Argives.

(ODYSSEUS moves back from the tent - Looking rather skittish, hesitant.)

Get a grip on yourself, no need to fear.I’ll make you invisible to him, he won’t harm you.

(She calls to AJAX within)

Ajax, stop binding the wrists of your captives.Come out. Do you hear me? Come out of the tent.

ODYSSEUSPlease, goddess, don’t call him forth now. Wait!

ATHENAIs this cowardice? I told you there is Nothing at all to be afraid of.

ODYSSEUSYes, but I’d rather you let him be, for now.

ATHENAWhat’s wrong? He’s only flesh and blood – like you.

ODYSSEUSHe’s also the man I’ve always hated,And hate even now.


— 5 —

ATHENAWell, here’s your chance. Isn’t it one of a man’sGreatest satisfactions to be ableTo mock, to humiliate his enemies?

ODYSSEUSI’d just as soon he stay where he is.

ATHENABe honest with me, Odysseus. Is itHis madness that you are afraid to face?

ODYSSEUSI would never fear him if he were his own self.

ATHENADon’t worry; no matter how near to youHe comes, I’ll make sure he can’t see you.

ODYSSEUSBut his eyes, he still has eyes.

ATHENAThey’ll see, but only what I want them to see.

ODYSSEUSGods, I guess, can do anything they want.

ATHENAJust stand where you are and be quiet.

ODYSSEUSAlright, alright; but I’d rather be elsewhere.


— 6 —

ATHENAAjax, I know you hear me. Do you haveSo little regard for your protectoress.

(Ajax emerges from the tent with a blood-stained scourge in his hand.)

AJAXHail Athena, daughter of Zeus. You areMost welcome to my tent. Again you haveStood by me, and I am not ungrateful.You will have as many gold trinketsAs you want: an offering for this,The greatest of all my victories.

ATHENAI am pleased. And did you stainYour sword well with the blood of Argives?

AJAXI’ll not deny it.

ATHENAWas it against the Atridae whom you took up arms?

AJAXThey will never insult Ajax again.

ATHENAAre you telling me that they are dead?

AJAXYes, they are dead. Not likely to cheat meOf my armor now!


— 7 —

ATHENADid Laertes’ son meet a similar fate?Or has he escaped?

AJAXAha!, so you want to know where that villianIs. That wily fox.

ATHENAYes – Odysseus, your arch-enemy.

AJAXHe’s here, among my other prisoners.I’ll attend to him shortly. His deathWill be a painful one.

ATHENAWhat do you intend on doing with him?

AJAXI’ll tie him upright to the pillarInside my tent, slowly scourge the skin fromHis back; then, after a while, kill him.

ATHENAThere’s no advantage to be gained, Ajax,By torturing the man. You are victoriousOver him – that’s plain to see – don’t be so harsh.

AJAXDaughter of Zeus, in all other thingsMy obedience will remain exact.But for this purpose you cannot sway me.


— 8 —

ATHENAIf that’s what pleases you, forget what I’ve said,Do exactly as you will, and more.

AJAXI must return to my work. But I hopeYou will remain as before: a staunch ally.

(He returns to his tent.)

ATHENADo you see, Odysseus, how powerfulWe gods are? Where could you find a man morePrudent in his judgement or valiantWhen called into action?

ODYSSEUSI know of none greater. He isMy enemy and I hate him, yet IPity him also for his helplessnessIn the face of misfortune and the shame,The awful shame he will feel. For this touchesMy condition as well. Are we—all livingBeings – mere phantoms, a moment’s shadow?

ATHENARemember this lesson, never speakA haughty word against the gods, or swellWith foolish pride, whether due to conquestIn battle or the power of wealth.Each mortal’s fate is uncertain: one day glory;The next infamy. The gods smile on the manOf wisdom who knows his place. They hate the proud.


— 9 —

(ATHENA vanishes, ODYSSEUS leaves, the CHORUS of Salamion Sailors enter.)

CHORUSSon of Telamon, lordOf the island SalamisWhere the swelling sea-waves are heldIn check. With some apprehensionWe greet you. Not always as such:When all is right with you, we areFilled with gladness, rejoicingAt fortune’s benevolent nod.But when the fury of ZeusOr the Argives’ petulant tonguesAssail you, we tremble in fear,Our dove-eyes lost in terror.Even now, out of last night’sFading blackness, come rumorsOf dread and loathsome detail.They say that you, lurking aboutThe grasslands where the horses feedAnd run free, fell on the captive herdsAnd flocks, striking at them with yourFlashing sword, slaughtering them all.This tale comes from OdysseusWho presently is spreadingScandal throughout the campgroundBy whispers and insinuations.Any story he tells findsGullible listeners, and with eachListener the exultationAnd the gaiety grow. They, notSurprisingly, revel in thisDistress of yours. For the higherOne aims, the surer his shaft


— 10 —

Will hit home. Yet if these same barbsWere aimed at a lesser man, theyWould fall on deaf ears, not believed.The strong are always the objectsOf envy. But without themThe weaker have little chanceOf protecting their possessions.Only an alliance will do:The weak supporting the strong,And the strong, in turn, defendingThe weak. These things the ignorantWill not be taught. Instead, like fools,They clamour against you. O masterWe are powerless to defend youWithout your help. But show yourselfTo them and they will cowerIn silence like a flock of birdsFrozen to the hawk’s dive.

StropheThe tale they tell has mothered a terrible shameOn us all. Was it the high god’s daughter,Artimas, the bull rider, who coercedOur master into this mad killing of cattle?Was her anger fueled by a victoryOffering withheld: war-spoil or hunter’s gift.Or was it the bronze-clad war god,Jealous of our master’s success in battle,Who revenged himself by sowing the havoc,The strange occurrences of last night.

AntistropheCertainly the Son of Telemon would neverOf his own will take part in this heinousSlaughtering of beasts. Can a man be blame-


— 11 —

Worthy if the gods tamper with his wits. We thinkNot. May Apollo and Zeus protect usFrom these baneful rumors. But if the brother-Kings have crafted a false story(along with that bastard Son of Sisyphos),You must not hide any longer in your tent.Join us now and defend your good name.

EpodeArise, why do you hesitate?There is fighting to be done; your causeStalls without you. With each momentLost, the flames of hatred and ruinRise higher. Malice walks freelyOn the open plain: your enemies continueTo slander you. And our hearts are filledWith grief, much grief.

(TECMESSA enters from the tent.)

TECMESSAShipmates of Ajax, descendantsOf the soil-sprung Erechthid line,There is no joy for those who longFor the distant house of Telemon.Our grim and absolute leader,Ajax, is bewildered and storm-Tossed by frightening tides.

CHORUSWhat further misery has the nightBrought that was not evidentYesterday. How did he come to this?Answer us, daughter of PhrygianTeleutas. Since you are his spear-won


— 12 —

Bride, and since he loves you and keepsNothing from you, let us knowWhat you know.

TECMESSAWords fail me. How can I speakThe unspeakable. That which hasHappened is terrible, worse than death.Ajax is mad. During the nightHe was seized by evil obsessions;The bloody results—his unholySacrifices—lie within.

CHORUSStrophe

That confirms it. There is no disputingThe powerful rumors which we have heard;We seek escape where there is no escape.We must wait for the inevitable,The dread terminus that is our lot.If, as it seems, he did slaughterThe herds and their guards, his death is At hand. Ajax will die in dishonor.

TECMESSASo, it was from the commons that heCame, leading his bound, captive herdTo our tent. And here, mercilessly,He cut them to pieces with hisHewing sword. One white-footedRam he seized, cutting outIts tongue and severing its head,Throwing both to the ground.Another of the same, tiedUpright to a post, he whipped


— 13 —

Fearfully with a doubleHorse-harness, each blow whistlingAs it fell. And all the while heShook with joy, uttering inhumanCries, ridiculing his victim.

CHORUSAntistrophe

There is nothing left to do but coverOur heads and quietly creep away overThe plains. Or meet on board ship at the oar-Benches and plot a course for the openSea and safety. The Atridae’sThreats must not be taken lightly:They’ll stone him for certain, and usIf we stay to share our master’s fate.

TECMESSAYet there is hope; like the aftermathOf a lightening storm, a tumultuousSouthern gale, his rage abates. HeBecomes himself. But now there isOther grief to torment him. He seesToo clearly his handiwork, and bearsAlone a guilt-ridden anguish.

CHORUSThough, if his madness has endedEverything may yet be alright:Trouble often becomes of lessImportance once it is past.

TECMESSAWhich would you choose then: to givePain to your friends and yourself


— 14 —

Experience nothing but joy,Or share with them their misery.

CHORUSTwo griefs are a heavierBurden than one, my lady.

TECMESSASo, our sickness has endedBut our bodies do not recover.

CHORUSWhat are you saying, Tecmessa,We cannot understand you.

TECMESSAWhile Ajax was out of his mindHe at least felt happiness,No matter how evil his actions;We, on the other hand, were horrified. But now that he is well, he fallsUnder the weight of bitter sorrowAnd we are no less troubledThan before. Is this not twoGriefs rather than just the one.

CHORUSYes, you are right, my lady.Surely the anger of ZeusMust be upon him. What elseCould explain his tormented stateSince his return to sanity?

TECMESSAAnd so things stand now.


— 15 —

CHORUSBut how did his madness start?Tell us, we are as deeplyUpset as you. Will you tell us?

TECMESSAHave patience and I’ll tell you as muchAs I know.Ajax in the dead of nightLeft our bed, took up his two-edged swordIntent upon some mischievous forayInto the lampless camp. Hearing himI asked, “Where are you going Ajax,There’s been no call to arms or messageSummoning you. The army still sleeps.”“Woman,” he answered sharply, “keep to yourself,It’s none of your business.” I said nothing more.Then he left, alone.What happened nextI’m not certain. But at last he came backWith his captives: oxen, sheep, and shepherd dogsRoped together like defeated warriors.After driving them inside, he, O GodPity him, turned our tent into a houseOf slaughter: slitting their throats, beheadingThem—nothing seemed to quench his blood-rage.Some of them held by bonds he abusedWith words and blows as if they were human.After a time he darted out the doorConversing wildly with a phantomListener; and, thrashing the morning airWith a horrid laugh, he declared his vengeanceNow on the Atridae, now on Odysseus.At length he stumbled in again with tremblingBody and eyes blank; he sat in the midst


— 16 —

Of his carnage groaning, and with angry fistsPummeled his own face. He reached over to touch the tornCarcasses of his dying victims, then lurchedBack, clutching at his hair. There he sat,Blood-soaked and silent, for a long time.When at last he returned to his sensesHe questioned me, demanding to know allThat had taken place. I hesitated,But finally, out of fear for my life,Told him everything I knew. Then he startledMe with a cry so shrill and anguish-filledThat I could not believe it from my husband.He had always taught us that shrill criesWere for cowards and slaves. In distressHis own lament was like a bull’s deep moan.Yet even now he sits uttering loud cries,As motionless as any of his slaughteredBeasts. He surely means to harm himself.Please, if you are truly his friends, come in,Remind him of his nobility, speakOf his virtues. In short, repay himThe friendship he has so often lent to you.

CHORUSThese are fearful tidings,Tecmessa, our leader reduced byHis sorrows to a raging madness.

AJAX (from within) Ai, Aiiiii…

TECMESSAHear him, hear him, there isWorse to come. He cries so pitiably!


— 17 —

AJAXAiiiii…

CHORUSWhat are we to think?Is he still distempered and determinedIn his bloody feud, or a sufferingPenitent shrieking for an end to pain.

AJAXMy son! Bring me my son!

TECMESSAHe calls for Eurysaces. But why?O my son where are you? What should I do?

AJAXTeucer! Teucer won’t you come, returnFrom your petty raids and give comfortTo your brother, your perishing brother.

CHORUSHe seems quieter now. Open the door.Perhaps old friends can quell his fever.

TECMESSASee for yourself. (She opens the door.)

AJAXLoyal friendsSee what has becomeOf a man who stoodFirm against a tide of blood.I’ve drowned.What are you gawking at?


— 18 —

CHORUSTecmessa, most unfortunate womanYour report was too true. His wits are gone.

AJAXBrave hearts, shipmatesWho rode with meThe sea-canyons, our oar-bladesFlashing upon the froth.There is none left but youIn this red-stained world.Kill me! Kill me now.

CHORUSNo, my lord, be reasonable. AnotherCrime cannot cure you. You must bear your pain.Speak no more of this evil. You must live.

AJAXI, mighty Ajax,Scourge of the Trojans,Conqueror of cattle,A clown provokingLaughter. Better dead.

CHORUSPlease my lord, don’t talk like this. It’s unseemly.

AJAXFools!, wretches!, out of my sight.

CHORUSCalm yourself in God’s name, we want only to help.


— 19 —

AJAXI had them in my hands, my enemies here,Caught in my clutches, but let them escape,Instead spilling the dark blood of theseInnocent beasts. How could it happen?

CHORUSForget the past Ajax, what’s done is done.Nothing you can do will change that.

AJAXOdysseus,Most counterfeit of allArgives. Will you point meOut to your friendsAnd have a good laugh?Scum! Vile enemy!

CHORUSOnly the gods send laughter or tears,We are not responsible for these gifts.

AJAXIf I could just get my hands on him,Even in my wretched state I’d …

CHORUSMy lord, you must quit this boasting; you areIn no condition to harm anyone.

AJAXZeus, father of my fathers,How can I killThat fiendish Odysseus And his two partners


— 20 —

The brother-kings.Let me kill them;Then let me die.

TECMESSAIf you pray for your own death, you prayFor mine also, I am nothing withoutYour protection; think of me, my lord.

StropheAJAX

O night, take meTo your dwelling of darkness Receive as friend one scoffed atBy the gods, unfit even for the worldOf men. Alas! One who feelsYour shadows even nowFingering his mortal heart.Take me as I am, strippedOf nobility, like theseContaminated beasts.Take me, O friend; the army, with swords up-Lifted, is bent on my destruction.

TECMESSAMust a woman accept this? Her husbandBrought to such a fate, such despair.

AntistropheAJAX

Paths of churningSeas, beach caves, and salt-pastures,Too long have you held meTo this land of Troy; I’ll not be keptLiving any longer. The


— 21 —

River Scamander, whoseChill waters have cooled the hotBlood of the Argives, shallNever see this man again,This Ajax who—listen well-Had no peer in all the host from Hellas’Land; but now forever dishonored.

CHORUSWe would restrain you, yet we pull away.Is there nothing to be done? Is there no help?

AJAXAi, Aiii…My name once, twice, and again thrice,A harmony which mocks at misfortune.And yet how fortunate: my name, itsMortal cry, all in a sound so singular,So final, a heart pierced. Aiii, how couldThis happen? My father arrived here, foughtAnd returned bearing an honored name.But I, his son, stronger, braver, fightingOn the same cursed soil, have lost my name,My honor, have been reduced to a cry,A wretched cry – but were AchillesLiving and were he to select amongThe Argives a true champion to receiveHis weapons, the just price for valiant deeds,No rival would have stolen them from me.But they have been stolen. The AtridaeHave conspired against me, ignoringMy every triumph, giving the prizeTo a knave. And be assured, they neverWould have lived—those scoundrel brothers—to fix Another contest if I had not been blinded


— 22 —

At the last moment by that demon-eyedDaughter of Zeus who, just as I was toStrike the death-blow, sent a madness uponMe. My hands now dipped in the gore and bloodOf these poor beasts—even to the elbows.And they have escaped to laugh at my undoing.A man can avenge nothing if the godsAid his enemies.Now what should I do?I am hated by the gods, the Trojans,And even the Argives. Shall I sail for homeAcross the Aegean Sea, desertingThe Atridae? What explanation wouldI give to Telemon, my father? WouldHis welcome be contempt for a sonWho after all these years returns with nothing,Having lost even his father’s battle-won fame?No, I will not do it. Shall I thenAssault the walls of Troy demandingCombat, and at least die bravely, fightingThem all. No, that would only add honorTo the Atridae. That I won’t do!I must devise some act which will convinceMy father his son is no coward.For only a coward would accept a longEndless life filled with misery, one dayNearing death, the next snatched from its grasp—Every hope becoming an illusion, a pretenseConcealing the ultimate end. One mustLive nobly. Or die nobly. There is nothing more.

CHORUSNone can deny your eloquence, Ajax,Nor question your honesty; you haveBared your soul to us. Therefore, let bitter


— 23 —

Thoughts cease, let misplaced passions die.Ajax, please, listen to your friends.

TECMESSAMy husband, my dear husband,Of all the evils which infect usIn this strange life, surely the hand of fateIs cruelest. I was free born, a daughterOf Phrygian wealth. My father a powerTo be reckoned with among that people.But he, a mere man, could not save me.Now I am your consort, your bedmate. Was itYour act, or heaven’s will? Who can say? IAm here and you are my husband. In the nameOf that bed which we still share and Zeus,Protector of the hearth-fire, I beg youNot to abandon me to the taunts and jeersOf your enemies, nor leave me defenseless,Prey to their lust-filled hearts. On the day you die They will seize us – myself and your son –Abuse us, and drag us off into captivityTo our new duties as bond-slaves. Then someone,One of your old rivals, will say mockingly“Look here, Ajax’s wench. When he wasThe mightiest of warriors her lifeWas easy enough; how times have changed!”Can’t you hear them now? These words will soundHarsh enough to me and add to my burdens,But, even worse, they will be an affrontTo your blood, a shame on your family.O Ajax, think of your father, leftTo face old age alone. And your mother,Heartbroken after years of praying to the godsFor your safe return. Think of our son,Bereft of a father’s guiding example,


— 24 —

Left to the care of unkind, loveless guardians.Will you consign him to that sorrow? Or me?You are the only one left to me.Your spear has ravaged my homeland. My fatherAnd mother by another stroke of fateWere death-afflicted and dwell now in Hades.With you gone, where is my home, my happiness,Where is my wealth? Can’t you see,Without you there is no hope for me. O husbandRemember our nights together. Will you forsakeMe now, after all I’ve given to you.A man who accepts kindness but refusesTo return it can never call himself noble.

CHORUS Ajax, will you not agree with her as weDo, or at least feel compassion for her plight.

AJAXShe’ll have my compassion when she obeys me.

TECMESSAWhatever you want, Ajax, I’ll do.

AJAXBring me my son, I wish to see him.

TECMESSAI – I sent him away while you were …

AJAXWhile I was … ill. Is that what you mean?

TECMESSAYes, I thought you might … harm him.


— 25 —

AJAXOh, that would have been a fitting touch,A deed worthy of my recent fortune.

TECMESSAWell, I averted that, didn’t I?

AJAXYou did, and I am most grateful for your prudence.

TECMESSAMy husband, as things now stand, can I Do anything for you?

AJAXBring him to me.I want to talk with him face to face.

TECMESSAHe is close by, in the care of attendants.

AJAXSend for him at once.

TECMESSAEurysaces, your father wants you. BringHim here, whichever one of you holds his hand.

AJAXIs he coming? Hasn’t he heard you call?

TECMESSAHere he is. One of the servants escorts him.


— 26 —

AJAXLift him up, lift him up so that I mayHold him. He won’t be frightened by thisNewly spilt blood if indeed he isMy son. He must be broken in to a Soldier’s rugged ways, growing like-naturedWith his father.My son, may you beMore fortunate than your father, butIn every other way like him, then willYou live well. Even now I envyYour ignorance of these matters.Life is best when one is obliviousTo evil. But someday, when you comeTo know the meaning of evil, its painsAnd even its pleasures, you’ll show your trueMettle, and soon enough men will speak of youAs Ajax’s son.

Meanwhile feed off the feather-Winds, living as a child should, a comfortTo your mother. And do not fear the Argives;Even though I am gone, they will notBother you. I’ll leave Teucer, whom more thanAnyone else I trust, to guard over you,To care for you. That is, when he returnsFrom his raids.And you, my seafaring warriors,My friends, will you do this favor for me.Tell Teucer to take the child to my homeAnd show him to Telemon and my mother,Eriboea, that, until they enter the dark placesOf the nether god, he may bring someHappiness to their old age. Will youAlso tell Teucer that my weapons


— 27 —

Must not be given away as prizesBy any arbiters of games, nor by the manWho destroyed me. Here, my son, take this,My greatest protection, my seven-fold shield—You were named after it. Hold it firmlyAnd fearlessly by its leather thong;May it serve you well as it has served me.The rest of my weapons are to beBuried in the safety of my grave.

(To TECMESSA)

Come quickly; take the child, seal the entrance.For God’s sake, no crying or hand-wringingBefore the tent: women, it seems to me,Are especially prone to hysteria.Now hurry! Prayers and whining are of noUse when sickness craves the corrective knife.

CHORUSWhy the haste Ajax,That and the sharpness of your speech frightens us.

TECMESSAMy lord, what are you planning to do.

AJAXStop questioning me. I won’t answer.

TECMESSAMy heart bursts! By your son, by the godsDon’t abandon …

AJAXEnough. Do you believe that I oweAnything, anything at all to the gods?


— 28 —

TECMESSAWhat’s this. Blasphemy?

AJAXSpeak to those who hear.

TECMESSAListen to me, my lord.

AJAXI’ve listened to you for too long already.

TECMESSABut I’m afraid …

AJAX (to the Attendants)Shut the doors. Shut them!

TECMESSAPlease, Ajax …

AJAXFoolish woman! Let me be.

(Ajax is sealed within the tent)

CHORUSStrophe 1

Salamis, blessed sanctuary,High above the lashing surf.You reign in peacefulness, a jewelCherished above all others.But we linger here, exilesCamped on the fields of Ida,A timeless vigil. We look


— 29 —

Forward only to that dreadful Day when we enter the darkenedWorld of eternal fading.

Antistrophe 1And now we are stricken by a newGrief: Ajax, your loyal sonAnd our brave leader, has lost his wits.Heaven has sent a frenzyUpon him which has reducedThis warrior without peerTo a man of solitudeWho sits, companion to dire thoughtsAnd suspicious of everyoneWhether friend or enemy.

Strophe 2His mother, poor woman, grey-hairedAnd burdened with old age, willSurely collapse in despairWhen she hears of her son’s ruin.Unlike a nightingale’s plaintive notes,Her sobs will sound in shriller strainsAs she beats her shriveled breastsAnd rends her wiry tresses.

Antistrophe 2Better Hades should hide with darknessThe diseased soul of a manEstranged from his true nature,Languishing in an alienMeter of misconceived illusion.Wretched father, how will they tellYou of your son’s affliction;He, alone, of all your race, damned.


— 30 —

(Ajax enters, carrying a sword. He is in control, calmer.)

AJAXIn time’s illimitable universeNothing is kept forever hidden. All thingsAre drawn from utter darkness, describedWith light, then concealed again. EverythingIs possible – the most fervent oath mayBe broken, the most inflexible will bent.Even I, who a short time ago wasSo tempered with the best steel, so determined,Have lost my edge because of this womanAnd her soft words. I hesitate to leave A widow and an orphan son to the mercyOf my enemies.

But now I will goTo the bathing-places and the meadowsBy the beach and wash until I haveCleansed these stains which soil me that I may appeaseThe anger of the goddess. Then I will findSome secluded spot and hide this sword,Most accursed of all weapons, where no oneWill see it, buried in the earth. May deathAnd darkness keep it there forever. SinceI took this gift from Hector, the greatestOf my enemies, I have received no goodFrom the Argives. How true the old proverb:An enemy’s gift is not a gift, it bringsWith it only grief.

If anything,I have learned to obey the commandsOf our gods and to respect the authorityOf the Atridae. They are our leaders,


— 31 —

And we, mere subordinates, should submit.What other way is there? Neither the dreadNor the mighty powers are exemptFrom this rule. Thus Winter with her snowy feetDefers to the warmth of Summer’s roots, and Night,Tired from his lonely trek, withdrawsBefore the white steeds of Day. After the fierceStorm-winds have ceased, a calm envelopsThe groaning sea. Even sleep, who makesUs all her captives, imprisons onlyTo set free!

Should we, then, not learn this wisdom.I, of all men, know that one must hateOne’s enemies, remembering all the whileThat some day they may be his closest friends,And aid one’s friends as though they soon mayBe numbered among his most treacherousEnemies. For to most men friendship is No haven at all. But enough!Tecmessa,Go in and pray to the gods to grantMe my heart’s desire. And you, my friends,Do likewise, honor me with your prayersThat I may find peace; and when Teucer comesTell him I have left everything in his hands,And that he should look after you. I am going where I must go.You will hear of me soon: a happinessUntouched by misery, unburdened of suffering.

(AJAX departs, TECMESSA goes into the tent.)


— 32 —

CHORUSStrophe

We thrill with pleasureSoaring like a great birdTo the impossible heights.O Pan, Pan, come to usFrom over the sea,From the snow-crested hillsOf Cyllene, appearAs a godOf dance would. Teach usThe measures of Nysa,Gnosus—let all dance,Let all fill their heartsWith laughter and danceTo daylight’s passing.And, Appollo, dear LordOf Delos, cross overFrom the pale, Icarian shoreTo be with us always.

AntistropheThe destroying god Has lifted from our eyesThe haze of dire anguish.O Zeus, once more our swift,Sea-cutting ships willBathe in the blithe goodnessOf the sun’s soothing Warmth. Ajax is wellAgain; he forgetsHis troubles, and would makePeace with the gods, per-Forming his dutiesIn solemn worship


— 33 —

And loyal devotions.The mighty and shrillAre bleared by the long trudgeOf endless years. Witness here:Ajax repents his feuds.

(A messenger from the camp enters)

MessengerFriends, I have news. Teucer is back, just returnedFrom the Mycean heights. He was on his wayTo the generals’ quarters surrounded byA great multitude of Argives who had seenHim coming from afar and recognized him.They reviled him with curses and taunts,Calling him “kinsman of the maniac,”And “conspirator against the host.”“Stone him to death,” one cried, “tear him apart.”Another yelled. It reached such a pitchThat swords were drawn from their sheaths and heldMenacingly in men’s hands. Yet, just whenThings seemed beyond control, the eldersIntervened, and so violence was stayed.But where is Ajax, I must tell him this.It is he who this news most concerns.

CHORUSHe is not here. He left a little while agoWith a new purpose and in high spirit.

MESSENGERGod help him then! I was either sent too lateOr I took too long to get here.


— 34 —

CHORUSWhy the urgency, what haven’t you told us?

MESSENGERTeucer said that Ajax must stay confinedTo his tent until he himself arrives.

CHORUSWell, he is gone – and for good reason too.He must appease the wrath of the gods.

MESSENGERYour words are follyIf Calchas’ prophecy can be trusted.

CHORUSWhat prophecy is that? What have you heard of this?

MESSENGERToo much; I was present when Calchas, who wasWith our leaders at the council, left themAnd walked over to where Teucer was standing.He offered his hand to him as a friend would,Then drew him to one side. They were far enoughAway that neither AgamemnonNor Menelaus could hear. In an earnestVoice he begged Teucer to restrain his brotherFrom leaving his tent this whole day longAnd to stay with him, or, if he didn’tHe would never see Ajax alive again, Since on this day alone would the angerOf divine Athena doom him. For whenever,Said the seer, man forgets his natureAnd pretends to something more than mortalHe is dashed to earth by heaven-sent


— 35 —

Calamities. Ajax, on the dayHe left home, showed himself lacking in thisEssential modesty. His father, givingGood advise to his parting son, said to him,“Go now and seek your victories, but alwaysWith God on your side.” Ajax’s answer wasBoth haughty and foolish. “Anyone can winBattles with God helping him,” he said,“But I intend to win mine on my own.”An impudent boast! And another timeAthena came to him urging that he raiseHis deadly hand against his foes. His retort,Almost too blasphemous to tell, was“Goddess, give your help to other ArgivesWho need it. Where I stand, no one will breakThrough our line. It was appalling wordsSuch as these—inflated beyond all limit –Which provoked the anger of Athena.Still there is hope. If he lives through todayWe may yet save him, with heaven’s help.When Calchas had finished speaking these thingsTo him, Teucer rose immediatelyFrom his seat and commanded me to comeHere bearing these instructions for you.But if, as you say, Ajax is gone, then heIs surely dead, or Calchas is no prophet.

CHORUSTecmessa, poor woman, you seem to haveBeen born for misery. Come, a messengerHas arrived. He brings a fearful tale.

(aside)

This business touches us much too closely.


— 36 —

TECMESSAIs there no end to my suffering? Why doYou wake me again?

CHORUSListen to this man, he has news pertainingTo Ajax. Grim news.

TECMESSAWhat is it? What’s the matter? Are weIn any danger?

MESSENGERAs far as I know, my lady, you areIn none. However, Ajax, if he has leftHis tent, might be in serious danger.

TECMESSAHe--he has left. Tell me what you mean.

MESSENGERTeucer sends strict orders to keep AjaxConfined to his tent, and to prevent him—by forceIf necessary—from venturing out alone.

TECMESSABut where is Teucer?What purpose can these orders have?

MESSENGERHe has just returned, and has reasonTo believe that if Ajax goes forthFrom this place but once, it could be fatal.

TECMESSAGod help us! How did he find this out?


— 37 —

MESSENGERFrom Thestor’s son, the prophet, this dayHe learned it—this very day.

TECMESSAO my friends, protect meFrom this threatening doom.Someone, please, find TeucerAnd beg him to hasten here.The rest of you help me, searchFor my husband, either towardThe eastern or the western bays.I see now—only too clearly—I haveBeen betrayed by my lord, castAside. O child, what shall I do?We must not stay here –no!I’ll look for him, as muchAs my strength allows. Hurry, weMust find him before death does.

CHORUSIn more than word, we’ll showOur speed, my lady.

(The CHORUS, TECMESSA, and MESSENGER hurry away in all direc-tions. The scene changes. Ajax appears alone in a desolate place by the seashore.)

AJAXThe slayer stands ready; he shall doHis work well. And why not? Now that I thinkOf it. Hector, worthiest of my enemies,Gave me that sword, and I have carefullyPlanted it, with its blade sharpened and poisedIn the hostile earth of Troy. Death shouldCome swiftly, kindly.


— 38 —

Next, as it isThe appropriate thing to do, I callOn you Zeus. It is no great favorThat I petition for. Send a messengerFor me to Teucer that he may beThe first to hear the news of my catastrophe,And come to lift me off this blood-damp swordBefore some enemy finds me slain, and throwsMe as prey to the dogs and carrion birds.O Zeus, grant me this. I likewise call uponHermes, guide to the nether land, to layMe asleep easily, after one quick boundUpon this keen and piercing blade. And you,Immortal maidens, dread furies who watchForever the miseries of mankind, witnessMy death and know that the guilt of this deedRests with the sons of Atreus. As I willDie wretchedly, self-slain, let them perishBy kindred hands. Go, catch them with your long strides,Revenge me on their host, hold back nothing.And sun-god, you whose radiant chariotClimbs the steep sky-heights, when you see my birth-Land, pull up your golden reins and tell this taleOf sorrow and doom to my aged fatherAnd my mother, my poor mother. With tearsShe will fill the streets of our city,Her selfless heart breaking. But it does no goodTo think these unhappy thoughts. I mustDo this speedily.O Death, Death come now,Collect your due. Yes, even you I willSpeak to in that other world of nearDarkness. But, bright daylight, you I will neverSee again, or you, sun-god, aloft


— 39 —

In your chariot, I look upon youFor the last time. O light, O Salamis,Holy soil, site of my father’s hearth,And famous Athens too, whose race is kindredTo mine, farewell. And you, also, the conserversOf my life, the fields, the streams, the springsOf Troy, farewell. My speech is ended;Whatever else Ajax may have to say,He will say it to the dead in Hades.

(Ajax falls on his sword and dies.)

(After a short interval, the CHORUS enters, half from one side of the stage, half from the other.)

CHORUS 1Tired feet. Troubling thoughts. We’ve lookedEverywhere, yet still not foundThat place which knows the secretOf our search.But listen! I hearSomething. Over there!

CHORUS 2Friends! It’s us, your shipmates.

CHORUS 1Any luck?

CHORUS 2We covered the entire coast westward from the ship.

CHORUS 1And did you find …


— 40 —

CHORUS 2No.

CHORUS 1Neither did we; there is no sign of himWhere the morning sun gilds the shoreline.

CHORUS (as one)Strophe

What salt-bitten fisherman, weary from toil,Plying his tasks in a sleepless daze,Or what nymph of mountain, or stream that flowsDown to the Bosphorus, has seen this manWandering with troubled soul and fierceDemeanor. How hard it is that weWho have searched far and wide over this landOf emptiness, must relent without findingAs much as a trace of our afflicted lord.

(TECMESSA has found the body of AJAX, and is heard lamenting.)

TECMESSAOh no! No!

CHORUSWhose cry is that coming from the wood?

TECMESSA (sobbing)My husband, there was no need –why?

CHORUSIt is Tecmessa,Our master’s spear-won bride, lost in anguish.


— 41 —

TECMESSAI am alone. Without hope. Desolate.

CHORUSWhat is it? What’s happened?

TECMESSAHere is Ajax, newly slain; a swordSheathed by this mighty heart.

CHORUSGods! Is this the end of all our hopes,Will we never return to our homelandAgain. Now nothing but death awaitsUs—your comrades—O hapless warrior,O corpse not yet cold.(To Tecmessa)And for you, poor woman, we sorrow.

TECMESSAHe is beyond our cries, he is dead;We can only mourn for him.

CHORUSWith whose help did he accomplish this appalling act?

TECMESSANo other but his own hand shared in the blame.The sword on which he fell, fixed firmlyIn the ground, stands—his mute accuser.

CHORUSBy his own hand, alone. How gullibleWe were to let him out of our sight.What fools! And he, shedding his own blood


— 42 —

Far from friends—we were blind. Show usWhere he lies—proud Ajax, that fatally named man.

TECMESSANo, you shall not see him. With this enfoldingCloak I’ll cover him fully; for no manWho loved him could endure this ghastly sight—His dark life-blood runs out through his nostrilsAnd even yet spouts from his self-dealt wound.O what shall I do? What friend shall gentlyLift you up? Where is Teucer? It is heWho should be here to tend his brother’sCorpse. Ah, Ajax, my husband, to have fallen so.Even your enemies will mourn for you.

CHORUSAntistrophe

There was nothing to be done, you were fatedTo follow this course—your unbendingSoul was destined for blinding misery.Your dread passion of hate disquietingThe nights and embittering the daysWith constant rantings against the SonsOf Atreus: these were signs of your sorrowsTo come. Yes, that was a pregnant dayWhen those golden arms were made a prizeOf worth in that contest of prowess.

TECMESSAAii, Aiii …

CHORUSA heart holding such grief –her loss is profound.


— 43 —

TECMESSAAh, my husband!

CHORUSIt’s no wonder that you cry, my lady,Deprived of one who so loved you.

TECMESSASo you say—but I feel it.

CHORUSOf course.

TECMESSAMy child, what will become of us, what cruelOverseers will catapult us into chattel.

CHORUSThe sons of Atreus would indeedDeal with you as you suspect. They areBoth arrogant and ruthless. ExpectNo pity. May God deflect this danger.

TECMESSAWas it not God who sent it on its flight.

CHORUSToo true! Heaven delights in our pain.

TECMESSAAnd who engendered this painIf not Pallas Athena, childOf Zeus, ally to Odysseus.


— 44 —

CHORUSDoubtless this much-enduringOdysseus exults in his,The darkest of hearts, mockingAt this outrage and our grief.And the brother-kings, when they hearThis story told, will gloatAt fallen glory and our distress.

TECMESSALet them gloat! Damn them!While he lived they cared nothingFor him, but one day they’ll regretHis loss—in the heat of battleWhen greatness is needed to turnThe tide, then will they yearn for him.Fools cannot know the wealth that wasTheirs until they have lost it.His death is all bitternessFor me, all jubilance for them.But I care little. AjaxHimself is content. WhateverHe wished for, he made his own,Including death; he died this way—His own place, his own time. Why thenDo they gloat? Where is their triumph?His death was decreed by the gods,Not them. So let OdysseusMock and revel to his heart’s content.Ajax is gone, and I, his wife,Left to misery, will mourn him.

(TEUCER is heard approaching)


— 45 —

CHORUSBe still. Is that Teucer’s voiceWe hear, rising in sorrowAbove this solumn sight.Surely it must be.

(TEUCER enters)

TEUCERAjax! My brother!My dear brother! Can it beThat you are already dead. IsIt true, is the dread rumor true?

CHORUSHe has perished, Teucer.

TEUCERAnd am I to bear this bravely,This burden so unexpected.O Gods!

CHORUSWe must accept …

TEUCERBitterness and tears, O life …

CHORUSYour plaints are not without cause.

TEUCERWhy so swift, so fierce a blow …


— 46 —

CHORUSIt was that; there’s no denying it.

TEUCERThen misfortune is our lot.But – where is my brother’s child.Tell me where I can find him.

CHORUSAlone, by the tents.

TEUCERBring him here at once, before it is too lateAnd he is snatched like a lion’s whelpSeperated from its mother. Don’t waste time.Quickly! For little men, impotentBefore nobility’s might, wait for deathTo take their triumphs from his corpse.

(TECMESSA and one of the sailors depart)

CHORUSYes, Teucer. It was Ajax’s last wishBefore he died that you care for his childAnd shield him from harm, just as you are doing.

TEUCERO corpse of Ajax, worst sight my eyesHave ever seen. Never has a pathSo embittered a heart as that which ledMe here, seeking my troubled brother.While following your tracks, terrible rumorsWith fearful and spear-sharp news were sped to meAs if by a god, from the Argive camp.I heard them and hurried over your trail


— 47 —

Haunted by gloom-filled and tremulous thoughts.And now I see all my fears have bloomed.I am ruined! My heart is broken!Someone uncover him. Let me see allOf what I dread.

(The covering is lifted from the corpse of AJAX)

Grim, ghastly form. Stubborn manhood. Your deathHas sown a bitter fruit which is mine to eat.Where can I go? Who will welcome meWhen they know it was I who failed youIn your distress. How will Telemon,Your father and mine, greet me when I returnWithout you? With graciousness and smiles?Even in good times he rarely smiles.He’ll keep nothing back—hurling curses,Spitting insults. And the taunts! Loathsome coward,He’ll call me … bastard son of a captured slave…Betrayer. There’ll be no end to it. Or worse,He’ll accuse me of treachery, lettingAjax die that I might inherit wealthAnd lordship. And this said with meanness,The ill-temper of old age. Quarrels willSoon follow—his anger will rise up,Bereft of reason or cause. Then shall IBe exiled, branded by his reproachesAs no longer a free man but a parasiteAnd criminal. Such are my prospects at home.While at Troy, I can expect only venomAnd hostility with few, if any, allies.These are the fruits of your death, the fruitsWhich I must bear—O brother, let meLift you off this accursed weaponWhich boasts even now of your stolen breath.


— 48 —

Did you guess that Hector, although goneBefore you, would be the parent of this deed?How strange the fortune of these two men!With the same girdle that Ajax had given him,Hector was dragged to death under the wheelsOf Achilles’ chariot. And this hateful swordOn which Ajax fell and died was a giftFrom Hector. Only a Fury could have forgedThis blade! Only the grim artisanOf Hades contrived that girdle! These thingsLike all others which torment men’s livesAre conceived by the gods. Let those who don’t Believe this look to their own lives. For myself,I’ll keep this opinion.

CHORUSHold. Too much talk. We must think of preparingA grave, and what to say to the man—Your enemy—who is fast approaching us.Does he come to taunt us in our sorrow,Or vent his anger on this still warm corpse,Vile scoundrel that he is.

TEUCERWho do you see? Which one of our leaders?

CHORUSMenelaus, that damnable manFor whose sake we made this voyage.

TEUCERNow that he’s nearer, I recognize him.

(MENELAUS enters with attendants)


— 49 —

MENELAUSYou, I’m warning you, don’t touch that bodyOr attempt to bury it, leave it where it is.

TEUCERBy whose authority do you babbleYour orders at us.

MENELAUSIt is both my will and our commander’s decree.

TEUCERThen let’s hear your reasons.

MENELAUSListen well. We brought this man from homeBelieving that he would be a friendAnd champion of the Argive host.However, he lately proved worse than anyFoe of Phrygian blood: conspiringAgainst us, plotting our downfall, evenAiming to kill us one night while we slept.If it were not for some friendly godThwarting his murderous plan, we wouldBe dead—as he is now, slain by a traitor;And he would have still been alive to tellHis ignoble tale. Instead, his attackFoiled, he fell on the herds of cattle and sheep.So do not doubt me when I say, we shallNot be cheated of our revenge; no manAlive shall bury his body. We’ll castIt out on the sun-swept sand—a carcassFor the seabirds to feed from …

(Teucer draws his sword, but is restrained by his comrades; MENELAUS flinches)


— 50 —

If we could not curb him while he livedAt least—despite your threats—we’ll rule Over him in death. Never did he obeyA word we said; but soon, underOur control, he’ll have no choice. In nature’s courseMen who do not submit to their betters showAn evil and corrupted slant which should notBe tolerated. Can a city prosperWhose citizens are not bound by fear? OrAn army survive whose soldiers are notDisciplined by force? The iron-ribbed man,The brash paragon, is no exceptionTo this rule; a luckily aimed blow mayDrop him. Safety lies best with the politicMan. Where outrage and insults are given sway,Surely that state, though graced by favoringWinds, will find destruction sinking intoThe sea’s abyss. Accept the necessityOf fear! Do not deceive yourselves: everyPleasure has its recompense. There isA circular motion to things. This manWas hot-tempered and insolent once; now it’s My turn for boasting. So I warn youAgain: do not test my anger and tryTo bury him, or his grave will be your own.

CHORUS These are fine dictums, Menelaus,But why go further and outrage the dead.

TEUCERNever, my friends, will I be surprisedBy the callous actions of the low-bornWhen a man who calls himself noble,A man of some renown can utterSuch words of incredible slander


— 51 —

(To MENELAUS)

Do my ears deceive me? You say you broughtHim here? You found this friend and championOf the Argives? Don’t you rememberThat he voyaged here on his own. He cameAs master; not as drudge. By what rightDo you call yourself his chieftain or evenOur king. You are Sparta’s kingAnd nothing more. No one gaveYou the power to dictate to himAny more than he could to you. Neither didYou sail here as sovereign commanderOf our fleet; you were a subordinateOf others and had no authorityOver Ajax. Go, govern those who giveYou warrant to govern, discipline themWith your stern speech. In the meantime I intendTo bury my brother, and neither your words,Nor anyone else’s, will deter me.Whatever you think, Ajax did notJoin this expedition—like your ownCredulous thralls—to win back an erring wife.No! It was his sworn oath which boundHim to war, he cared nothing for yourConjugal plight. Why should he? So nextTime you come, bring more kinsmen with youAnd perhaps your commander. For it isDifficult to listen to a trivialMan prattling in a trivial way.

CHORUSThese words are painful to hear. However just They may be, we should not tempt further ruin.


— 52 —

MENELAUSThe bowman, I think, likes to hear himself talk.

TEUCERPerhaps so. Still, my craft recommendsItself to others. It is not swinish.

MENELAUSWere you prepared for battle how insolentWould your speech be?

TEUCERWithout shield, without armor, nakedI’d match you in all your panoply.

MENELAUSWhat! How courageous a tongue this man has.

TEUCERThe rightness of one’s cause can exalt the soul.

MENELAUSAnd is it right to honor a murderer?

TEUCERA murderer? Oh! You mean your murderer.

MENELAUSAs I told you, a god rescued me.The intention, although deflectedFrom its purpose, provides sufficient guilt.

TEUCERIf saved by a god, why dishonor heaven?


— 53 —

MENELAUSHave I not always followed heaven’s commandments?

TEUCERNot when the dead are forbidden burial.

MENELAUSForbidden you say! Yes, but onlyMy foemen are forbidden-How could justice be served otherwise.

TEUCERWas Ajax your foeman, your enemy? DidHe meet you in battle on the fields of Troy?

MENELAUSWe hated each other, as you well know.

TEUCERI know you robbed him of votes by your influence.

MENELAUSHe was defeated by the judges, not I.

TEUCERVillain!, you camouflage the truth well.

MENELAUSSomeone will pay for those words.

TEUCERNo higher payment then we will secure.

MENELAUSI’ll say it once more: the man will not be buried.


— 54 —

TEUCERThen listen once more: he shall.

MENELAUSI have heard a man of fieryTongue and vaunting manner cajole his crewTo voyage out into a turbulent sea.When the weather worsened and the dangerOf shipwreck grew formidable, you couldn’tFind him anywhere. He was hidingUnder his cloak, sniveling, his sailorsStepping over him or kicking him at will-So take heed or your brash words might yetBe quelled by a sudden tempest whose breath,Born of a single cloud, overpowers all.

TEUCERAnd I have seen a fool who gloriedIn his fellow man’s misfortune, while another Man, somewhat like myself and of the sameTemperament, admonished him not to wrongThe dead or he would suffer the fatalConsequences of it. Thus he warnedThat imprudent man whom I see before me;That man is you. Do I speak in riddles?

MENELAUSI’ll go now. It is ludicrous that IScold and lecture when I could compel.

TEUCERGo then. For it’s worse that IShould listen to a fool’s witless bluster.

(MENELAUS leaves)


— 55 —

CHORUSA mighty contention is shaping up here.Teucer, hurry, let us find a suitable Grave site where we may with dignityBury his corpse, where hereafter menCan come to remember, to praise his name.

(TECMESSA enters with EURYSACES)

TEUCERLook, the wife and child of Ajax.They arrive just in time to help usPerform properly the burial rites.Come boy, stand here by your father’s side,Lay your hands upon him as a supplicantWould. Kneel. Take these locks of hair…mine…Hers…Yours…our simple offerings.Stay close to him and pray. But if any Man from the Argive host tries to forceYou away from this corpse, may he findHis just reward: his body left at life’s endWithout a grave, cut off with the restOf his kin at the root, just as this lockOf hair which I sever. Take it boy,Carry it with you always. But for nowRemain here with him, let no oneDislodge you. That’s it, embrace him,Pray for us all. You others, act as men,Not weaklings, guard them well till I return.I go to prepare a grave for my brother;We will bury him shortly. Let the dogsSnarl all they want, they’ll not forestall us.

(TEUCER leaves)


— 56 —

CHORUSStrophe 1

When shall this litany pass, these refrainsOf repetitive years, when shall the tideCease, the storm-waves abide, our hardships give pauseTo a peaceful day, a freedom from spear-Anger? We are tired of Trojan plains and exile.Fair Hellas, shall we ever see you again?

Antistrophe 1Would he had vanished, faded into theSubstance of sky or the realm of snow,This man who leagued the dominions of Hellas,Who taught us war with all its miseryAnd wretchedness, who made his troubles our hardships;Indeed, here was a maker of men’s ruin.

Strophe 2And what rewards did we meritFor our part in followingHim to this dreadful country? WereWine cups filled and refilledFor our pleasure’s sake, and our pathsBestrewn with flowered wreaths?Were our fears quieted by sweetMelodies of soothing fluteAnd the dreamworld comfort of sleep?No, there was nothing of worthGranted to us. Even love, OBlissful love, we were denied.Each morning at the touch of tearsWe awake in this strange land,Uncared for, forgotten.


— 57 —

Antistrophe 2Where once Ajax stood firm, our poisedChampion, our stalwart shieldAgainst the terrors of nighttimeAnd the day’s battle-shafts,Now he lies drained of all his warmthBy the demons of Hades.Have we no shelter? Is joy dead?O, if only for the spanOf a moment’s time, between The rush and recess of tides,We could return to our homeland,To the wooded hills beneathThe summit of Sunium, thenLook out upon the sea-roadSparkle to sacred Athens.

(TEUCER enters, out of breath)

TEUCERAgamemnon comes! I saw him and hurriedBack. His demeanor is fierce but his tongue-I believe- will prove even fiercer.

(AGAMEMNON enters)

AGAMEMNONAre you the man who threatens defianceOf me? They say your mouth foams with the wordsOf a fool, words, by the way, for which IWill shortly exact a punishment.Don’t ignore me! Yes, it’s you I’m talkingTo, the son of a captive whore. I canImagine your proud boasts and affected mannersHad you been born to nobility! But, instead,


— 58 —

Being only a nothing, you valueNothing: a dead body. You claim,So the story goes, that my brother and IHad no authority over Ajax,That he was his own commander, both on seaAnd land. What insolence! What presumptionFrom a slave boy! Who was this Ajax afterAll, Had he done anything that I haven’t?Obviously he was mortal. Have the ArgivesNo other champion to take his place?It seems we shall ever regret thatAccursed contest for Achilles’Armour, since Teucer-though he knows better-Takes it upon himself to denounce usAs thieves and rogues. He spurns the decisionOf lawful arbitrators and, unableTo accept defeat, denigrates us with vileProfanity and, possibly, plotsOur assassinations. Never willThe rule of law govern our peopleIf such outbursts are enduredAnd the defeated allowed by clamorAnd threats to usurp the winner’s prize.Such abuses we will no longer tolerate.Besides, it is not the broad-shouldered bullyOn whom we must depend, it is the shrewd,The prudent man who everywhere prevails.However huge the ox, it takes onlyA tiny whip to keep him from veeringOff the road. This remedy may soonBe applied to you, unless you learn restraintAnd check your impertinent behavior.Think about it: the man is dead, why causeSo great a quarrel over a mere corpse?Remember who you are! And, if you still


— 59 —

Have a grievance, send an advocateTo plead your case. Otherwise I cannotBear listening to you, being so littleSchooled in your barbarian tongue.

CHORUSBe reasonable—both of you. Learn modesty.Restrain yourselves. Cease hurling this invective.

TEUCERHow quickly the dead are effaced from memory!How brazen the ingratitude of men!See, Ajax, the esteem this man holdsYou in, this man who you for so longFought and labored for. There was a time whenYou would have given your life to save his.And how does he remember you? By castingYou aside like so much rubbish!Villainous windbag! Can’t you even recallThat day, penned within your own lines, flamesLicking the sterns of your ships, and HectorVaulting high over the protective trench,That was the day Ajax turned rout intoVictory, saving your life. Is this a manWho deserves your scorn? Do you alsoForget the day he fought Hector in singleCombat, not because he was compelled to, butBecause he was chosen by ballot—forHis lot was no lax lump of clay, but a solidShard which would leap easily and firstlyFrom the crested helmet.These were his deeds,And I –the slave, the son of a barbarianWoman—was at his side. Vulgar cur,How dare you belittle my lineage! Look


— 60 —

To your own family tree. Was yourFather’s father not Pelops?—the Phrygian!Then there was Atreus, your infamous father.We all know the tale of how he preparedA feast from the flesh of his brother’s childrenAnd served it to that unwitting brother. And, of course, your mother- a Cretan no less!She was fed to the fishes, a justPunishment for her infidelities. SoWho are you to call me a barbarian?Telemon is my father. His battle-featsWere unequaled in his day. My mother wasA princess, the daughter of Laomedon.She, the worthiest prize of all the war-spoil,Was given by Alcmena’s son to myFather as a reward for his bold exploits.Do you expect a man such as I, bornOf two noble races, to disgrace himselfBefore his earth-cold kinsman whose bodyYou would unashamedly desecrate?It is better that I take a standIn his defense, than to sacrifice myselfFor the sake of your wife—I mean your brother’sWife. Therefore take heed, consider notMy welfare but your own. Make any moveUpon me and you’ll soon regret it.

(ODYSSEUS enters)

CHORUSLord Odysseus! – just in time. You come,We hope, to mediate not to inflame.


— 61 —

ODYSSEUSWhat happens here? From far away I heardThe voices of the Atridae bickeringOver this brave man’s body.

AGAMEMNONNo, Lord Odysseus, we were merelyReturning the insults spat at usBy this shameless man.

ODYSSEUSWell, I can certainly understandThe immoderate words of a manEngaged in a battle of insults.

AGAMEMNONHis insults, however, were more than matchedBy his despicable actions.

ODYSSEUSAnd what were they?

AGAMEMNONHe attempts to bury that corpse, despiteMy orders forbidding it.

ODYSSEUS May I speak freely—as one friend to another,Without you distrusting my loyalty?

AGAMEMNONSay what you will. I am not so thick-wittedAs to distrust you. Of all the Argive Warriors, you are my truest friend.


— 62 —

ODYSSEUSAlright, then listen. Show some compassionFor this hapless man. Don’y let your blind Hatred incite you to such an outrage.Justice must not be trampled upon like this:He should be buried. Keep in mind that this manWas my mortal enemy. Since the dayThat I won Achilles’ weapons, he hatedMe. In spite of this I would neverDishonor him in death or deny that, save Achilles, he had no peer in all the host.Moreover, it is not only he youWould wrong by this deed, but also heaven’sLaw. When a man of such nobility dies—Even a hated foe—he deserves your respect.

AGAMEMNONYou, Odysseus, you side with him.

ODYSSEUSI do. Although I hated him once,I cannot now. He was greater than I.

AGAMEMNONWhy build him up so? Take revenge whileYou may on your fallen enemy.

ODYSSEUSWhat triumphs, son of Atreus, can You find in disrespect.

AGAMEMNONIt is hard for a king to be respectful.


— 63 —

ODYSSEUSIs it also hard for a king to takeThe good advise of a friend.

AGAMEMNONA soldier should obey his commander.

ODYSSEUSEnough! Accept my advise and declare Yourself the victor.

AGAMEMNONBut this man hated you …

ODYSSEUSHe was an enemy—but a noble one.

AGAMEMNONA hated enemy—yet you still plead for him?

ODYSSEUS His greatness should be of more weight thanAny enmity he felt for me.

AGAMEMNONImpulsive man! Your tempers are in flux.

ODYSSEUSWhat? That’s nothing unusual. A man’s friendsWill often turn on him, becoming his foes.

AGAMEMNONAnd would you tolerate that kind of friend?


— 64 —

ODYSSEUSMore than I would pigheadedness.

AGAMEMNONYou’ll make us into cowards yet.

ODYSSEUSThat’s not true. We’ll appear as just and goodSovereigns in the eyes of others.

AGAMEMNONThen you suggest I allow the burial.

ODYSSEUSYes, one day I’ll require the same.

AGAMEMNONAha! It’s for yourself that you plead.

ODYSSEUSWhy not? Whom should we look out for if Not for ourselves?

AGAMEMNONVery well, have it done by your orders,It is nothing more to do with us.

ODYSSEUSWhatever you say.

AGAMEMNONDon’t misunderstand me, my friend,I would readily do much more than thisFor your sake. As for him, however: whetherOn earth or in Hades, he will alwaysHave my hate. Deal with it as you wish.


— 65 —

(AGAMEMNON goes out)

CHORUSYou are a shrewd man, Odysseus.Anyone who does not recognize thisAfter listening to you here is a fool.

ODYSSEUSFrom this moment on, Teucer, let us shareFriendship, just as we once shared enmity.Include me in the burial ritualAdding my prayers and praises to yours.Let us begrudge no ceremonyIn honoring this mighty warrior.

TEUCERFriend Odysseus, with all my heart I thankYou for your kind words. Any misgivingsI might have had have been laid to rest.You were, of all the Argives, the enemyWho galled him most, and yet you aloneHave stood by him and defended his speechlessCorpse against the insults of the living. For this service, again, I thank you.Had it been left to those ignominiousBrothers, his body would have been tossedTo the elements, uncared for, unburied.May the Ruler of the Heavens, and the all-Remembering Fury, and Justice,Their adjutant, devise a wicked doomFor those wretches who sneer at our fallen lord.But … as to your generous offer,I hesitate to accept since, by lettingYou participate, I might antagonizeThe dead. Nevertheless, you’re welcome to observe


— 66 —

And, if you wish, bring a companionFrom the camp to act as your proxyIn the burial ritual. He will receiveThe utmost courtesy. In the meantimeI must make the arrangements. We shallNot soon forget the kindness you have shown us.

ODYSSEUSI did want to join you, but if you think It not proper, I respect your judgment.I’ll leave you now.

(ODYSSEUS goes out)

TEUCERMake ready the grave. We will delayNo longer. Some of you fetch the spadesTo dig the trench, some build a fireAnd set the great caldron upon itIn preparation for holy ablutions,You others collect the weaponsAnd armor from his tent and bring them here.You too, boy, you can help. TogetherLet us lift your father. Be gentle, his warmDark blood still pulses from his wound.Quickly, if you call yourselves his friends,To your tasks, for never will your laborBe so well spent as today—we buryAjax, the noblest of all men.

CHORUSThe matter of life a man may seeAnd from it learn a wisdom.But who has sight enoughTo envision the futureOr perceive his own fate?

dennis daly sophocles’ ajax - wilderness house ... house literary review 6/4 dennis daly...

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