Ajax

Enter Odysseus, scanning recent footprints in the sand; Athena, invisible to Odysseus, is seen by the spectators above the stage in the air.

Athena

Son of Laertes, ever on the prowl To seize some coign of vantage ’gainst thy foes, Now at the tent of Ajax by the ships, Where he is posted on the flank, I see thee Following the trail and scanning his fresh tracks, To learn if Ajax be within or no. Bravely thy long search brings thee to the goal, Like a keen-scented hound of Spartan breed; The man has even now returned, his brow Bedewed with sweat and hands besmeared with gore. No further need to peer within these doors; Say rather what the purpose of thy search Thus keenly urged, and learn from one who knows.

Odysseus

Voice of Athena, Goddess most by me Beloved, how clearly, though I see thee not, Those accents strike my ear and thrill my soul, Like some Tyrrhenian trumpet, brazen-mouthed. Yea, thou hast well divined why thus I cast About in hot pursuance of a foe, Ajax, the bearer of the sevenfold shield: Him and none other I have tracked full long. Last night a monstrous thing he wrought on us, If it be he in sooth⁠—’tis all surmise. So for the hard task of discovery I volunteered.

I, by the strong delusion that I sent, A vision of the havoc he should make. I turned his wrath aside upon the flocks And the promiscuous cattle in the charge Of drovers, booty not apportioned yet. On them he fell and hewing right and left Dealt death among the hornèd herd; and now It was the two Atridae whom he slew, And now a third, and now some other chief. ’Twas I that goaded him while thus distraught, And thrust him deeper in the coils of fate. Then pausing in this toil he turned to bind The oxen left alive with all the sheep, And drave them home, as if his spoil were men, And not poor innocent beasts with hoofs and horns, And now is mangling them fast bound within, Thou too this raving madness shalt behold, That thou mayst bruit the sight to all the Greeks. Be of good heart and stand thy ground; no harm Shall come from him, for I will turn aside His vision, lest he should behold thy face.

To Ajax within the tent.

Ho, thou that bind’st with cords behind their backs Thy captives’ hands, ho Ajax, hear’st thou not? I summon thee to come before the tent.

Odysseus

What dost thou, Goddess? Nowise call him forth.

Athena

To Ajax.

Ho, Ajax! once again I summon thee. Say, why this scant regard for thine ally?

Enter Ajax.

Ajax

Hail O Athena, Zeus-born maiden, hail! Thine aid how opportune! for this I’ll crown Thy shrine with votive spoils of purest gold.

Athena

Fair words; but tell me, hast thou well imbrued Thy sword with carnage of the Argive host?

Ajax

A glorious deed that I will not disclaim.

Athena

Haply thou has assailed the Atridae too?

Ajax

So that they ne’er will outrage Ajax more.

Athena

If I interpret rightly, they are dead.

Ajax

Both dead; now let them cheat me of my arms!

Athena

Good; and how fares it with Laertes’ son? How hast thou left him? or has he escaped?

Ajax

He! That sly fox⁠—wouldst know what’s come of him?

Athena

Of him⁠—Odysseus, thy antagonist.

Ajax

A welcome guest he sits within, fast bound. I have no mind that he should die as yet.

Athena

What would’st thou first? what further profit win?

Ajax

I’ll bind him to a pillar of my tent.

Athena

What vengeance wilt thou wreak on the poor wretch?

Ajax

Flay with my scourge his back before he die.

Athena

O torture not the wretch so savagely.

Ajax

In all but this, Athena, have thy will; This and none else, must be his punishment.

Tecmessa

Ah, how tell a tale so drear? Sad as death what thou shalt hear Of great Ajax, undone quite, Smit with madness, in the night. Look within and see the floor Reeking with his victims’ gore; Slain by his own hand there lies His ungodly sacrifice.

Chorus

Strophe

O fatal tidings of the hot-brained chief, Intolerable, yet without relief! What flagrant charge amid the Greek host goes That spread by rumour grows? Ah me, doom stalks amain! And if with his dark blade the man hath slain The herds and mounted herdsmen, sure he dies, A malefactor shamed before all eyes.

Tecmessa

Ah me, ’twas thence I saw him come Driving his captive cattle home. Of some he gashed the throats amain, There where they stood upon the ground; And some were ripped and rent in twain. Then two white-footed rams he found; Of one, beheaded first, the tongue He snipped, then far the carcase flung. The other to a pillar lashed Erect, with doubled rein, he thrashed, And as he plied the whistling thong He uttered imprecations strong, Dread words a god, no man, had taught.

Ah, my lord Ajax, heavier lot is none Than to lie helpless in the coils of fate. I was the daughter of a high-born sire Of Phrygians unsurpassed in wealth and might. And now, I am a slave; ’twas so ordained By Heaven, methinks, and by thy might of arm. Since fate has willed, then, I should share thy bed, Thy good is mine; and O by the god of the hearth, O by the wedded bond that made us one, Let me not fall into a stranger’s hand, A laughing-stock! For, surely, if thou die And leave me widowed, on that very day I shall be seized and haled away by force, I and thy son, prey to the Argive host, Our portion slavery. Then shall I hear The flouts and gibes that my new lords let fly. “Look on her,” one will say, “the leman once Of Ajax, mightiest of the Argive chiefs, How has she fallen from her place of pride!” Thus will they prate, and hard will be my lot, But on thy race and thee how foul a slur. Take pity and bethink thee of the sire Thou leavest, an old man, disconsolate; Bethink thee of thy mother bowed with years, Think of her prayers and vows for thy return. And, O my lord, take pity on thy son, Orphaned, without a father’s fostering care, The ward of loveless guardians; if thou die, What heritage of woe is his and mine! For I have naught to look to anywhere Save thee.