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.
 24 Sophocles You and your fellows, get you, axe in hand,
Up to the place, there, yonder ; and because I am thus minded,
other than before, I who did bind her will be there to loose ; For it
misgives me it is best to keep The old appointed laws, all our life
long. [Exeunt Creon and Attendants. Chorus. I. I. Thou by many
names addrest, Child of Zeus loud-thundering, Glory of a Theban
maid. Who unbidden wanderest Fair Italia's King, And art lord in
each deep glade Whither all men seek to her, Eleusinian Demeter ;
Bacchus, who by soft-flowing waters Of Ismenus habitest Theba,
mother of Bacchant daughters, With the savage Dragon's stock, I. 2.
Thee the lurid wild-fire meets O'er the double-crested rock, Where
Corycian Nymphs arow Bacchic-wise ascending go, Thee Castalia's
rill ; Thee the ivy-covered capes Usher forth of Nysa's hill. And the
shore with green of grapes Clustering, where the hymn to thee Rises
up immortally. Visitant in Theban Streets, " Evoe, O Evoe ! " II. I.
Wherefore, seeing thy City thusCity far above all other
 Antigone 35 Dear to thee, and her, thy mother Lightning-
slain — by sickness grievous Holden fast in all her gates. Come with
quickness to relieve us, By the slopes of Parnasus, Or the roaring
straits. II. 2. Hail to thee, the first advancing In the stars' fire-
breathing chorus ! Leader of the nightly strain, Boy and son of Zeus
and King ! '^^ Manifest thyself before us With thy frenzied Thyiad
train. Who their lord lacchus dancing Praise, and all night sing. Enter
a Messenger. Messenger. You citizens who dwell beside the roof Of
Cadmus and Amphion, there is no sort Of human life that I could
ever praise, Or could dispraise, as constant ; Fortune still Raising
and Fortune overthrowing still The happy and the unhappy ; and
none can read What is set down for mortals. Creon, methought Was
enviable erewhile, when he preserved This land of Cadmus from its
enemies. And took the country's absolute monarchy. And ruled it,
flourishing with a noble growth From his own seed ; and now, he
has lost all. For when men forfeit all their joys in life, One in that
case I do not count alive. But deem of him as of some animate
corse. Pile now great riches, if thou wilt, at home ; Wear thou the
living semblance of a king ; An if delight be lacking, all the rest I
would not purchase, as compared with joy. From any, for the
shadow of a shade. I Senator. What new affliction to the royal stock
Com'st thou to tell ? Messenger. Death is upon them — death
Caused by the living.
 36 Sophocles I Senator. And who is the slayer? Speak ! who
the victim ? Messenger, Haemon is no more ; His life-blood spilt, and
by no stranger's hand. I Senator. What, by his father's, or his own ?
Messenger. Self-slaughtered ; Wroth with his father for the maiden
slain. I Senator. Prophet ! how strictly is thy word come true !
Messenger. Look to the future, for these things are so. I Senator.
And I behold the poor Eurydice Come to us from the palace, Creon's
wife ; Either of chance, or hearing her son's name. Enter Eurydice.
Eurydice. O all you citizens, I heard the sound Of your discourse, as
I approached the gates. Meaning to bring my prayers before the face
Of Pallas ; even as I undid the bolts. And set the door ajar, a voice of
woe To my own household pierces through my ears ; And I sink
backward on my handmaidens Afaint for terror ; but whate'er the
tale. Tell it again ; I am no novice, I, In misery, that hearken.
Messenger. Dear my mistress, I saw, and I will speak, and will let
slip No syllable of the truth. Why should we soothe Your ears with
stories, only to appear Liars thereafter? Truth is alway right. — I
followed in attendance on your lord. To the flat hill-top, where
despitefully Was lying yet, harried by dogs, the body Of Polynices.
Pluto's name, and hers. The wayside goddess, we invoked, to stay
Their anger and be favourable ; and him We washed with pure
lustration, and consumed On fresh-lopped branches the remains of
him, And piled a monument of natal earth High over all \ thence to
the maiden's cell. Chamber of death, with bridal couch of stone, We
made as if to enter. But afar One fellow hears a loud uplifted wail
 Antigone 37 Fill all the unhallowed precinct ; comes, and
tells His master, Creon ; the uncertain sound Of piteous crying, as he
draws more nigh, Comes round him, and he utters, groaning loud A
lamentable plaint ; " Me miserable ! Was I a prophet ? Is this path I
tread The unhappiest of all ways I ever went ? My son's voice thrills
my ear. What ho, my guard ! Run quickly thither to the tomb where
stones Have been dragged down to make an opening, Go in and
look, whether I really hear The voice of Hsemon, or am duped by
Heaven." Quickly, at our distracted lord's command, We looked : and
in the tomb's inmost recess Found we her, as she had been hanged
by the neck,^'^ Fast in a strip-like loop of linen ; and him Laid by
her, clasping her about the waist, Mourning his wedlock severed in
the grave, And his sire's deeds, and his ill-fated bride. He, when he
sees them, with a terrible cry Goes in towards him, calling out aloud
" Ah miserable, what hast thou done ? what mind Hadst thou ? by
what misfortune art thou crazed ? Come out, my son, — suppliant I
ask of thee ! " But with fierce aspect the youth glared at him ; Spat
in his face ; answered him not a word ; Grasped at the crossed hilts
of his sword and drew it, And — for the father started forth in flight
— Missed him ! then, angered with himself, poor fool, There as he
stood he flung himself along Upon the sword-point firmly planted in
^^ The middle of his breast, and, conscious yet. Clings to the maid,
clasped in his failing arms. And gasping, sends forth on the pallid
cheek Fast welling drops of blood : So lies he, dead, With his arms
round the dead; there, in the grave His bridal rite is full ; his misery
Is witness to mankind what worst of woe The lack of counsel brings
a man to know ! [iLXl'f EURYDICE. I Senator. What do you make of
this ? The woman's gone Back, and without one word, of good or
bad !
 38 Sophocles Messenger. I marvel too ; and yet I am in
hope She would not choose, hearing her son's sad fate, In public to
begin her keening-cry ; But rather to her handmaids in the house
Dictate the mourning for a private pain. She is not ignorant of self-
control, That she should err. I Senator. I know not ; but on me
Weigh heavily both silence over-much, And loud complaint in vain.
Messenger. Well, we shall know it, If she hide aught within a
troubled heart Even to suppression of its utterance, If we approach
the house. Yes, you say truly, It does weigh heavy, silence over-
much. [Exit. Chorus. Lo now, Creon himself draws near us, Clasping
a record Manifest, if we sin not, saying it. Of ruin unwrought by the
hands of others. But fore-caused by his own self-will. Enter Creon,
attended^ with the body of H^emon. I. I. Creon. O sins of a mind
That is minded to stray ! Mighty to bind And almighty to slay !
Behold us, kin slayers and slain, O ye who stand by the way ! Ah,
newness of death ! O my fruitless design ! New to life's breath, O
son that wert mine, Ah, ah, thou art dead, thou art sped, for a fault
that was mine, not thine !
 Antigone 39 I Senator. Ah, how thou seem'st to see the
truth, too late ! Creon. Ah yes, I have learnt, I know my
wretchedness ! 11. I. Heaviness hath o'ertaken me And mine head
the rod ; The roughness hath shaken me Of the paths I trod ; Woe
is me ! my delight is brought low, cast under the feet of a God ! Woe
for man's labours that are profitless ! Re-enter the Messenger.
Messenger. O master, now thou hast and hast in store Of sorrows ;
one thou bearest in thine arms, And one at home thou seemest to
be come Merely to witness. Creon. And what more of sorrow, Or
what more sorrowful, is yet behind ? ^^ Messenger. Thy wife, the
mother — mother of the deadIs, by a blow just fallen, haplessly
slain. I. 2. Creon. O hard to appease thee, Haven of Death, How
should it please thee To end this breath ? O herald of heavy news,
what is this thy mouth uttereth ? O man, why slayest thou A man
that is slain ? Alas, how sayest thou Anew and again That the
slaying of a woman is added to slaying — a pain to a pain ?
Messenger. See for thyself; the palace doors unclose. The Altar is
disclosed, with the dead body of Eurydice. Creon. Woe is me again,
for this new sorrow I see.
 40 Sophocles II. 2. What deed is not done ? What tale is
not told ? Thy body, O son, These arms enfold — Dead— wretch
that I am ! Dead, too, is the face these eyes behold. Ah, child, for
thy poor mother ! ah for thee ! Messenger. She with a sharp-edged
dagger in her heart ^^ Lies at the altar ; and her darkened lids
Close on her wailing for the glorious lot Of Megareus, who died
before, and next For his, and last, upon her summoning Evil to fall
on thee, the child-slayer ! III. I. Creon. Alas, I faint for dread ! Is
there none will deal A thrust that shall lay me dead With the two-
edged steel ? Ah woe is me ! I am all whelmed in utter misery !
Messenger. It may be so ; thou art arraigned of her Who here lies
dead, for the occasion thou Hast wrought for Destiny on her, and
him. 1 Senator. In what way did she slay herself and die? Messefiger.
Soon as she heard the raising of the wail For her son's death, she
stabbed herself to the heart. IV. I. Creon. Woe is me ! to none else
can they lay it, This guilt, but to me ! I, I was the slayer, I say it,
Unhappy, of thee ! O bear me, haste ye, spare not, To the ends of
earth, More nothing than they who were not In the hour of birth !
 Antigone 41 I Senator. Thou counsellest well — if anything
be well To follow, in calamity; the ills Lying in our path, soonest
o'erpast, were best. III. 2. Creon. Come, thou most welcome Fate,
Appear, O come ; Bring my days' final date, Fill up their sum ! Come
quick, I pray ; Let me not look upon another day ! I Senator. This for
to-morrow ; we must take some thought On that which lies before
us ; for these griefs. They are their care on whom the care has
fallen. Creon. I did but join your prayer for our desire. ^^ I Senator.
Pray thou for nothing more ; there is no respite To mortals from the
ills of destiny. IV. 2. Creon. Lead me forth, cast me out, no other
Than a man undone ; Who did slay, unwitting, thy mother And thee,
my son ! I turn me I know not where For my plans ill-sped. And a
doom that is heavy to bear Is come down on my head. \Exit Creon,
attended. Chorus. Wisdom first for a man's well-being Maketh, of all
things. Heaven's insistence Nothing allows of man's irreverence ;
And great blows great speeches avenging. Dealt on a boaster. Teach
men wisdom in age, at last. \Exeunt omnes.
 AJAX PERSONS REPRESENTED The Goddess Athena.
Ulysses, son of Lartins {or as some said of Sisyphus,) King of Ithaca.
AjAX, son of Telatnon and Eribcea, leader of the forces of Salamis.
Tecmessa, daughter of Teuthras or Teleutas, King of Phrygia, the
captive-wife of Ajax. Eurysaces, a child, son of Ajax by Tecmessa.
Teucer, so7t of TelaDion by his captive-%vife Hesione. Menelaus,
King of Sparta, brother to Agamemnon. Agamemnon, King of Argos,
General-in-chief of the Greeks. A Messenger, a soldier in the
Salaminian forces. The Chorus is composed of Mariners of the
Salaminian squadron. Servants to Ajax. Scene, the sea-shore of
Troia, before the quarters of Ajax. Enter Ulysses, and Athena above.
Athena. Ever I find you, son of Lartius, Hunting to achieve some
venture on a foe ; And I behold you now at Ajax' tent. Where he lies
quartered, farthest of the fleet. This long time dogging him, and
measuring The newly-printed footmarks he has made, That you may
learn if he is within, or no. And keen the scent, as of a Spartan
hound. That carries you right bravely o'er the ground ; For so it is,
he is but now come in. Dripping with sweat, both from his
countenance And his hands armed for slaughter. So no longer Need
you be peering here inside the wicket ; Rather be telling why you set
yourself This task, that you may learn from me, who know. 42
 Ajax 43 Ulysses. O accents of the friendliest Power to me
Of all the Gods — Athena — with what clearness, Although thou art
remote from my regard, As of some brazen-mouthed Etrurian horn, I
hear and recognize the voice of thee ! Rightly didst thou discern my
prowling round After a foe — Ajax the Shield-bearer ; He and no
other is it whom I am tracking. He has committed against us, last
night, An unaccountable act ; if he has done it ; For we know
nothing sure ; we are astray. I volunteered to undertake this labour ;
For, we discover, all the herds, our spoil. Have been destroyed,
slaughtered by violence. Together with the herdsmen ; and the deed
Every man lays to him. One scout, who saw him Alone, with reeking
sword, bounding along. Spake and informed me ; and immediately I
started on the trail ; and of some footprints I am assured ; others
have baffled me ; And whose they are I know not. In good time Art
thou come hither ; for in all things, past And present, I am governed
by thy hand. Athena. I knew it, Ulysses ; and went forth betimes,
Ready to guard your hunting. Ulysses. Do I toil, Dear mistress, to
good purpose ? Athena. Yes, so far. That it was he who did it.
Ulysses. And how came he To set a hand to such extravagance ?
Athena. Mastered by fury about Achilles' arms. Ulysses. Why does he
make this onslaught upon cattle ? Athena. He thought to imbrue his
hands in your hearts' blood. Ulysses. What, did he mean to fall on
Argives ? Athena. Yes, And would have done it, had I suffered him.
Ulysses. How did he dare or hope to compass it ? Athena. At night,
by stealth, singly he came on you — Ulysses. What, did he reach us
and attain his goal ? Athena. Yes, he was just at the two Captains'
doors.
 44 Sophocles Ulysses. What made him hold his hand,
raging for blood ? Athena. I kept him off; I cast upon his eyes
Grievous conceits of his infatuate glee/ And turned him toward the
flocks and common herd Of captured cattle in the herdmen's charge,
Yet undivided. There he fell on them. And slashed about the horned
carcases, Cleaving their chines ; and he supposed himself
Sometimes to seize and slay with his own hand The two Atridae, and
sometimes to fall Upon some other of the generals. I, as he raged in
his delirium -fit, Urged him — impelled him deeper in the toils. Next,
when he rested from this work, he tied The oxen that survived, and
all the sheep, Together, deeming them no horned spoil. But men,
and drave them home ; and now within Bound to each other he is
torturing them. Here — I will shew you his sheer lunacy ; That you
yourself may see it, and report To all the Argives. Stand
courageously ! Do not imagine he is dangerous ; For I will turn and
keep away his eyes From looking on your presence. — Ho Sir, you,
Tying your prisoners' hands behind their backs — Ajax, I say ! Come
forth, out from the palace ! Ulysses. What dost thou, Athena? Call
him out by no means ! Athena. Will you be silent, and not play the
coward ? Ulysses. Do not, for Heaven's sake, do it ! Be content, And
let him keep within. Athena. For fear of what ? Was he not, all along,
a man ? ^ Ulysses. To me A foeman ; and he is so, even now.
Athena. And is not mocking sweetest, when you make Your mock of
enemies ? Ulysses. I am content He should remain within. Athena.
Are you afraid To view a man, because he is stark mad ? Ulysses. If
he were sane, I had not budged for fear.
 Ajax 45 Athena. But now he shall not see that you are by.
Ulysses. How can that be, unless his eyes are blind ? Athena. I will
bedarken even eyes that see. Ulysses. Well, anything may happen, if
a God Take it in hand to do ! Athena. Now, hold your peace ; Remain
where you are standing. Ulysses. So I will ; But I could wish that I
were out of it. Athena. Ho, Ajax, once again I summon you ! Why do
you heed so little your ally ? Enter Ajax, with a scourge. Ajax.
Welcome, Athena ! Welcome, Child of Jove ! Well art thou come !
and I will honour thee With golden trophies for this prize of mine !
Athena. That was well said ; but did you — tell me now — Wash well
your spear among the Argive host ? Ajax. So I may boast, and I will
not deny it ! Athena. Did you lift hand against the Atridae, too ?
Ajax. So, that they never shall flout Ajax more ! Athena. The men
are dead — so I conceive you mean ? Ajax. Dead. Let them rob me
of my armour, now ! Athena. Well, what about the son of Lartius ?
How has he fared ? Has he eluded you ? Ajax. Where that
confounded fox is, asked you me ? Athena. I did — Ulysses, your
competitor. Ajax. He sits within, a most sweet prisoner ; I do not
mean to kill him yet, my queen. Athena. Till you have done — or got
— what further ? Ajax. Till Bound to a pillar of the court inside —
Athena. What mischief will you do to him, poor wretch ? Ajax. Score
his back purple, and so finish him. Athena. Nay, torture not the
wretched creature so ! Ajax. Athena, to the rest I make thee
welcome ; But he shall suffer this, and this alone. Athena. Well, well,
if it would give you so much pleasure, Lay on, spare nought of what
you think to do. Ajax. I go to work. This I commit to thee ; Stand by
me, ever, such a friend as now. \Exit. c
 46 Sophocles Athena. Seest thou how great, Ulysses, is the
might Of Deities? Whom could you have found more prudent, Or
abler to perform his part, than he ? Ulysses. I know of none ; and I
commiserate him — Wretch — notwithstanding that he is my foe.
Bound hand and foot with dire calamity ; Pondering his case no
deeper than my own. Seeing in us all, as many as are alive, Nothing
but phantoms or a fleeting shade. Athena. Thou therefore, looking
on such sights as this. Speak before Heaven no overweening word.
Nor e'er presume, though thou at all prevail In weight of hand or
plenteousness of wealth. I A day can prostrate and upraise again '
All that is human ; but the temperate Heaven favours, and
abominates the froward. Exeunt severally. Enter Mariners of Salamis,
as Chorus. Chorus. Son of Telamon, who dost keep Seat where
wave-girt Salamis Borders on the ocean-deep, I am joyful in thy bliss
; But if stroke from Jove on high, Or ungentle calumny From the
Danaans light on thee, Straight I fear exceedingly, And am daunted,
like the eye Of some fluttering dove. And thus, In the night just
faded now. Noisy rumours saddle us With dishonour, how that thou
Did'st to the meadow take thy way Where our steeds run wild, and
slay All the Danaans' flocks and herds — All the leavings of their
spears, With thy gleaming blade. In such form his whispered words
Ulysses pours in all men's ears, And can well persuade.
 Ajax For he tells a tale of thee Credible ; and each who
hears Sends it on with greater glee, In thy sorrows triumphing. Aim
thy darts at greater hearts, Thou canst not miss ; ^ against the king
Envy creeps ; while one who jeered Thus at me would ill be heard.
Yet, without the great, the small Make the tower but feeble wall ;
And happiest ordered were that state Where small are companied
with great. Where strong are propped by weak. But with precepts of
this lore Vain the effort o'er and o'er Foolish men to indoctrinate ;
And such are they who at thee rail ; And we without thee nought
avail In thy defence to speak. While they escape thine eye, my king,
Like birds on wing They chatter loud and shrill ; But if thou wert to
appear. Quickly would they cower, in fear Of the mighty vulture, and
be still. Did Artemis divine, Jove's Taurian daughter — ah that I
should name The loud-voiced rumour, mother of my shame — Send
thee against the common herds of kine ? Was't for some unrequited
victory ? Was she defrauded of some trophied gear ? Or of some gift
withheld unthankfully In huntings of the deer? Did mail-clad Ares, to
avenge some slight Of his auxiliar spear, Punish the affront in
stratagems of night ? 11. For ne'er can'st thou have gone Of set
intention, son of Telamon, 47
 48 Sophocles So far astray, as upon creatures dumb To
make assault. True, plagues from Heaven must come ; But Zeus and
Phoebus keep us from the ill Men rumour ! While the kings illustrious
— While any abandoned son of Sisyphus Insinuates calumny, Raise
not, my liege, raise not reproach for me, By thus regarding still
Nothing, beyond thy chamber by the sea ! Up and leave thy seat,
wherever thou art rooted In this age-long ceasing from the fight.
Kindling wrath in heaven ! The scoffs of foes are bruited In the wind-
swept glens, without affright ; And by all men thou art babbled at
and hooted, And to me comes nothing but despite. Enter Tecmessa.
Tecmessa. Mariners of Ajax' fleet. Of Erectheus' earth-born stock,
Lamentable is our case Who in this far distant place Love the house
of Telamon ; Now our rugged mighty one, Dreaded Ajax, is down-
beat By a wildering tempest-shock ! Chorus. And by what so heavy
chance Has the night's tranquillity'^ Been broken, say ? since Ajax
great Loves and sets thee by his side — Thee, Teleutas' daughter,
thee Phrygian-born, a spear-won bride ; Therefore not in ignorance
Need'st thou answer. Tecmessa. How should I Things unspeakable
relate? You shall hear of misery Deep as death ; for in the night, In
one frenzy-fit, is gone All our Ajax' old renown ; Such blood-boltered
butcheries
 Ajax 49 In the hut await your sight, Victims of no hand but
his. Chorus. What story, impossible to blink or bear, Dost thou relate,
of one as fierce as flame, By the great Danaans rumoured
everywhere, And waxing with the loudness of its fame ? Ah woe is
me, I fear the fate that comes ! In all men s eyes the man will yield
his breath, For that his frenzied hand brought common death, Under
the sword's dark edge, on herds and herdmen-grooms. Tecmessa.
Thence, alas ! Thence it was That with wonder We saw him come.
With the sheep, all bound ; And slaughter some Within, on the
ground ; And cleave asunder The ribs of others ; And seizing upon
Two white-hoofed brothers. The severed tongue And head of the
one On the earth he flung ; And the second tied By a post upright ;
And snatching a thong Of harness-leather. Fiercely he plied The
whistling bight On the poor wether, Uttering the while reproaches
many and dire. Such as some power scarce human might inspire.
Chorus. High time it were to cover up the face, Take to our feet, and
vanish stealthily ; Or seat us at the oar, each in his place, To get the
vessel under weigh for sea. With such loud menaces the Atridae
twain Ply oar against us ; I am sore afraid The folk will stone us —
his companions made In suffering — whom so sore a fate has
overta'en.
 50 Sophocles Tecmessa. No, no more ; His frenzy is o'er ;
Keen was the gale ; It rose full fast ; But the lightnings fail, And the
storm is past. And now, though sane. He endures fresh pain ; For to
behold harms of our own hands' doing. Where none beside us
wrought, causes sharp ruing. I Mariner. But I suppose that all may
yet be well. If they have ceased ; for lesser is the count Of ill that's
past already. Tecmessa. Would you choose. If choice were free, to
have delights yourself, Vexing your friends, or in their company To
share the anguish equally with them ? I Mariner. The twofold evil is
the greater, lady. Tecmessa. We are the worse, then, for recovering !
I Mariner. How say you so ? I know not what you say. Tecmessa. The
man we speak of, when he was diseased, Himself had pleasure from
his malady, Whilst we, in our right minds, were pained for him ;
Now, since he rose and breathed, freed from his madness. He has
been all distracted with sore grief, And we are left no lighter than
before. Is not this trouble doubly multiplied ? I Mariner. I am of your
opinion ; and I fear Some heaven-sent stroke may have come on
him. How else, If, being made whole, he is no more at ease Than
when he was in sickness ? Tecmessa. Thus it is, You may be well
assured. I Mariner. How did the evil First light upon him ? Tell us
what has happened ; We grieve with you. Tecmessa. You shall hear
all that passed. Being sharers in the event. At dead of night, When
the evening camp-fires now no longer blazed,
 Ajax 51 He grasped his two-edged weapon, and seemed
bent To sally upon some errand, objectless. I, in surprise, said to
him "What dost thou, Ajax? Why thus unsummoned either by the
voice Of messengers, or any trumpet-call, Goest thou forth ? Now
the whole host is sleeping ! " But briefly he replied and in cant
phrase ; "Woman, a woman should be seen, not heard." -^ I held
my tongue, and he rushed forth alone. What there befell him truly I
cannot say ; But he came in and brought, bound all together. Bulls,
herdmen's dogs and fleecy spoil of sheep.^ Some he beheaded; of
some, their heads bent upward, He cut the throats and clave the
chines in twain. And some he bound and tortured, as if human,
(Though it was cattle he fell on ;) and at last Rushing out through
the door he hurled up words To a phantom, some against the
Atridae, some About Ulysses, laughing loud and long At all the
outrage he had wreaked on them ; Then darting back into the hut,
once more Hardly and by degrees he comes to reason ; When
looking on the chamber filled with havock He shrieked, and smote
his head. Then he sat down, Flinging himself among the weltering
wrack Of sheep that he had butchered, and clutched hold Upon his
hair with his clenched fists. Since then, Most of the time he sat,
uttering no sound ; After, he threatened me — 'twas terrible ! If I
disclosed not all that had befallen. And questioned me, what could
have come to him. O friends, in fear, I told him the whole story, So
far as I well knew it. Instantly He burst out crying lamentably —
cries Such as I never heard from him before. For clamour of the
kind, he ever taught. Belonged to base and pusillanimous spirits ;
Rather, suppressing all shrill outcries, he Would groan, low, like the
rumbling of a bull. Now, prostrate under such adversity. He, without
meat or drink, sits on the ground Among the beasts his edge has
dealt on, dumb.
 52 Sophocles And plain it is he meditates no good ; That
way, at least, his words and wailings tend. But O dear friends — for
therefore was my errand — Come in and help us, if by any means
You have the power ; for such men as he Are conquered by the
counsels of a friend. I Mariner. Tecmessa — daughter of Teleutas —
this Is evil news you bring us — that your lord Has been driven quite
beside himself with trouble ! Ajax {within). Woe, woe is me !
Tecmessa. It seems the trouble will be worse anon. Did you not hear
the voice of Ajax crying ? Ajax {within). Woe, woe is me ! I Mariner.
The man seems either to be mad, or grieved By presence of his
former madness. Ajax {within). Here, My boy, my boy ! Tecmessa.
Me miserable ! Eurysaces, 'tis thee He calls for! What is in his mind?
Where art thou? Unhappy that I am ! Ajax {within). Teucer I want !
Where's Teucer? Will he never have done foraying? And I — am
perishing ! I Mariner. The man appears To be of sound mind. Open,
there ! Perhaps He may be moved, even at the sight of me.
Tecmessa, Here, I will open. You can see his work; And in what
present plight he finds himself. The Scene opens, and discovers Ajax
among the slain a7ii7?ia/s. Ajax. O friends, O sailors good, Faithful
alone among the faithless found. Behold me, by what storm-driven
surge of blood I am encompassed round ! I Mariner. It seems, alas,
your words are all too true. How mad the work, it may itself shew
clearly. Ajax. O comrades, who with me Plied the oar-blade, your
mariner's craft, o'er sea. You, you alone stand by me in my pain !
Come, slay me — as these are slain !
 Ajax 53 I Mariner. Speak not so rashly. Do not make the
pain Worse, of the mischief, adding ill to ill By way of remedy. Ajax.
Dost thou behold How I, stout heart and bold, I, the undaunted
once in open battle, Lay violent hands on unsuspecting cattle ? Alas
for scorn ! How am I put to shame ! Tecmessa. Pray, my lord Ajax,
do not say these things ! Ajax. Away, take yourself hence ! Alas, alas
! Tecmessa. O, in Heaven's name, yield to me and be wise ! Ajax.
Woe, woe is me. That let slip through my hands the slaves of
destiny, And falling among horned kine, and goat-flocks good. Let
out their turbid blood ! I Mariner. Why will you grieve over what's
past and done ? It cannot now be altered, not to be. Ajax. Ah
Lartius' son ! Ah thou all-spying one ! Thou of all ills the ever-willing
tool ! Thou most foul knave, making the host thy fool, I warrant thou
art laughing loud for joy. I Mariner. As the God wills, every man
laughs, and mourns. Ajax. Wreck as I am, would that I could but see
him ! O woe is me. I Mariner. Speak mildly. See you not your evil
case ? Ajax. O Zeus most high, Forefather of my forefathers, would
that, having slain That wiliest hateful villain, and those monarchs
twain, Myself might lastly die ! Tecmessa. When you pray that, pray
that I too may perish ; For why should I be living, and you dead ?
Ajax. O darkness, now my light, O gloom to me most bright, C2
 54 Sophocles Take me, yea take me for your habitant :
Take me ! for I can brook No longer now to look Either to God or
mortal, in my want. Nay, rather upon me The strong divinity,
Daughter of Jove, destructive torment sends ; Then what escape is
best ? Where should I turn for rest, Now that my former fame is
fading, friends. And retribution follows instantly. And here I sit, with
my ridiculous prey, And the whole host will aim a dart at me, Once
and again, to slay ? Tecmessa. O misery, that a man so good should
speak Thus — as he never would have deigned, before ! Ajax. Ye
ways where surges roar. Sea waves and green-clad shore. Ye kept
me for a long long time indeed Lying Troy's walls beneath ; But now
— no more in breath ; No more ; a riddle that the wise may read. O
streams that take your course Down from Scamander's source You
kindly neighbours to the Argive host, Through all futurity You ne'er
again shall see The face of one, who utters now this boast, That of
all those from Grecian soil who came Troy saw no other soldier such
as I, Who notwithstanding, put to open shame, Upon the ground
here lie ! I Mariner. I have no voice to stay you, or bid you speak.
When woes so grievous have befallen you. Ajax. Ah, who would
have supposed it possible The name I bear should ever be attuned
To these misfortunes ! Doubly, trebly now May I lament ; so sore
bested am I ; Whose father in Ida bore the palm once From the
whole host, and went, all-honoured, home ; While I, his son, who
with no meaner power
 Ajax 55 Invaded this same tract of. Troy, nor less Myself
exhibited of prowess, thus. Being dishonoured by the Argives, perish
! And yet this much, truly, I think I know ; That if Achilles were alive,
to choose For his own arms, to whom the prize was due. No other
would have snatched it, over me. But now the Atridae have by
practice wrought For an unscrupled villain, and passed over The
might of this right hand. Had but mine eyesight — Had but my
counsels swerved not from their aim, Never another cause were
theirs to judge As they judged mine ! 'Twas the unmastered Power,
Jove's grim-eyed daughter, that illuded me. There as I stood, raising
my hand to smite them, Casting upon me a sick frenzy-fit. So that
my hands were reddened with the blood Of these poor cattle ! And
they laugh at me ; Having escaped — not as I meant for them. Yes ;
if some deity must interfere. The bad will scape the better. As things
are. What must I do ? whom plainly the Gods hate, Whom the
Hellenian hjost abominate. Whom all Troy loathes, ay and this soil of
it ! Am I to quit the staith, where lies the fleet. Leave the Atridae in
the lurch, and pass Homeward, across the -^gean ? And what
visage Shall I display, when I appear before My father, Telamon ?
How will he endure To look upon me in his presence, bare. Denied
the honours that became to him A crown of glory ? That may never
be. Then shall I march against the fence of Troy, Fall singly on the
foe, on the foe only. Do some good service, and so lastly die ? That
is the way to please the Atridae, though It is impossible. Some
enterprise Must be sought out, by which to manifest To my old
father that, in heart at least. Not wholly nerveless I descend from
him. It is a shame to crave long life, when troubles
 56 Sophocles Allow a man no respite. What delight Bring
days, one with another, setting us Forward or backward on our path
to death ? I would not take the fellow at a gift Who warms himself
with unsubstantial hopes ; But bravely to live on, or bravely end, Is
due to gentle breeding. I have said. I Mari?ier. That not heart-felt,
but feigning, are the words Which you have spoken, Ajax, none will
say. Still, pause an instant ; let these fancies be, And suffer friends
to master your resolve. Tecmessa. O my lord Ajax, in the ills of men
There is none sorer than Necessity. I was the offspring of a sire free-
born, Strong in his wealth, no Phrygian more than he ; And now, I
am a slave. So the Gods willed it, And thy right hand determined.
Coming thus Unto thy bed, I am on thy side, now. And I beseech
thee by our household Jove, And by thy couch, which thou didst
share with me. Leave me not open to contemptuous talk From thy
foes' tongues, bequeathing me to be Handmaid to some one ! For
the very day Thou diest, and dying puttest me away, Think how the
Argives will lay violent hands On me who, with thy son, must
thenceforth eat The bread of bondage ! And some master then, In
bitter language aiming taunts at me. Will word me — " Look at Ajax'
concubine ! His, who was once the mightiest of the host ; What
servitude, after such envied state, Is come on her ! " Such things
will some one say. And I shall be the sport of destiny, But thee and
thine these sayings will bring to shame. O tremble, ere in sorrowful
old age Thou leav'st thy father — leav'st thy mother, too. Who has
seen so many years, and oft to Heaven Is praying for thy return in
safety home ! And pity, O king, thy son — if he, bereft ( )f childish
nurture, must survive alone, Under unfriendly guardians — what
sore trouble Is this which, by thy death, thou wilt impart
 Ajax 57 To him and me ? For I no longer knowTo whom to
look, save thee ; my native land Thy spear destroyed ; and yet
another stroke Brought low my mother and my sire, to be
Inhabitants of Hades with the dead. What home, then, could supply
thy place to me ? What wealth ? All my existence is in thee. Have
thou some care for me. Some mindfulness A man should surely
keep, of any thing That pleased him once. Kindness is kindness'
mother ; Nor can we count him gentle any more, Whose memory
fails him of a benefit. I Mariner. Ajax, I wish that you felt pity at
heart As I do ; then you would approve her words. Ajax. Approval
she shall have from me — at least If she resolves to do my bidding
well. Tecmessa. O my dear Ajax, wholly I obey. Ajax. Bring me my
son, that I may see him, now. Tecmessa. I was afraid, and let him
go away. Ajax. During these troubles, was it? Or what mean you?
Tecmessa. Lest he should meet you and be killed, poor child ! Ajax.
Truly it would have matched my fortunes well ! Tecmessa. Oh but I
watched well, and prevented it. Ajax. Praised be the work, and your
good providence ! Tecmessa. How can I be of service to you now ?
Ajax. Give me a sight of and a word with him. Tecmessa. Yes. He is
in the servants' charge, hard by. Ajax. Why is he not yet here,
though ? Tecmessa. Here, my boy, Your father calls you. Bring him
hither, you, Whichever of the men is minding him. Ajax. Lags he
behind, or comes he at your call ? Tecmessa. Oh yes, the servant
here is bringing him. Enter Servant with Eurysaces. Ajax. Lift him up,
lift him hither ; he will not quail To gaze upon this slaughter freshly
wrought, If he be mine of right paternity. He must begin, now, to be
broken in To the rough fashions of his father's way,
 58 Sophocles And grow the same in nature. O my son, May
you be luckier than your father ! else As good' as he was ; and you
will do bravely. Ay, and already I could well envy you, Because you
have no inkling of these ills ; The happiest life consists in
ignorance,''^ Before you learn to grieve and to rejoice ; But, when
you come to it, it will be for you To approve, upon your father's
enemies, Your birth and breeding. Gentle airs, meanwhile, Give thee
repast ; dally with infancy. And be thy mother's darling ! Well I know
There is no Greek will try to injure thee With foul reproach, though
thou be fatherless ; So watchful is the guardian I shall leave About
thee — Teucer — tireless in thy care. Albeit now, chasing the
common foe, He wanders far. Seamen and shield-bearers ! To you as
well do I commit this charge. And tell him my behest ; to take this
boy Home, and present him there to Telamon, And Eriboea my
mother ; let him be The unremitting solace of their age.*^ And for
my arms — they shall not be a stake Set for the Argives, by some
arbiter — By him, my bane ! Eurysaces, my son — Take it — the
broad impenetrable shield Of seven fold hide, from which thou hast
thy name, And in the knotted cordage of the loop Entwine thy grasp.
The rest shall share my grave. — Now take the boy away
immediately ; Make the house fast, and raise no noise of crying At
the tent door. 'Tis a most piteous thing, Truly — a woman ! Quicker,
fasten it ! He's but a sorry leech, who mutters spells Over a sore that
must be cut away ! ^ I Marifter. I do not like the tone of this resolve.
It is no pleasure that your tongue is keen. Tecmessa. O my lord
Ajax, what is thine intent ? Ajax. Ask not : enquire not. Self-restraint
is good. Tecmessa. O how my spirit sinks ! In thy child's name And
Heaven's, I supplicate, betray us not !
 Ajax 59 Ajax. Thou art too troublesome. Art ignorant That,
once for all, I have cleared scores with Heaven ? Tecmessa. Speak
not so rashly ! Ajax. Talk to those who listen ! Tecmessa. Wilt not
thou hearken ? Amx. Far too much already Hast thou complained.
Tecmessa. Because I fear, my king. Ajax. Take her and shut her up
immediately. Tecmessa. Relent, for Heaven's sake ! Ajax. I must
think thee fool, To deem that thou canst school my temper, now. The
Scene closes on Ajax, Tecmessa, Eurysaces and the servant.
Chorus.^ I. I. Fair Salamis, where sea-waves roar Thou dwell'st,
methinks, at peace ; And ever glorious is thy shore Among the sons
of Greece ; Poor I, for many a weary day, Tarry, each night, on Ida's
grass, ^^ Watching the countless seasons pass. Worn by the long
delay ; Comfortless — reckless — hopeless, save In the drear
prospect of the looming Grave. I. 2. And Ajax, deaf to all relief, A
frenzy-haunted man, Stands by to renovate my grief j^^ Whom,
when the war began. Thou didst send forth, a prince in fight ; But
now he broods in heart, alone, A deep affliction to his own ; The
triumphs of his might Seem hostile all to hostile eyes ; The sons of
Atreus see them, and despise.
 6o Sophocles 11. 1. Surely the mother, in her close of day,
She that did rear him, aged now, and grey. When she shall hear his
madness whispered nigh, " Woe woe ! " will be her cry ! No plaintive
murmur of the nightingale, No querulous bird-like wail. But piercing
notes will echo through the air, Loud beatings of her breast, and
rendings of her hoary hair. II. 2. Better in Hades, hidden from the
day, Were he, the man whose wits are far astray. Who by ancestral
lineage towering most O'er the whole toil-worn host. No longer in his
moods remains unchanged. But walks as one estranged. Unhappy
sire ! what ruin of thine own son Awaits thine ear ! save him, to thee
and thy whole race unknown. Enter Ajax, with a drawn sword. Ajax.
All things obscure the slow uncounted hours Bring forth to light, and
cover all things plain ; And nothing is so strange it may not be, But
the stern oath — ay, and the stubborn mind Yield. Even I, that was
so stout of late — Yea, hard as tempered steel, before yon woman
Felt my keen edge of resolution turned To feminine softness ; and it
pities me To leave her widow and my child fatherless Among their
foes. But I will take my way Down to the meadows by the shore,
and bathe, So I may cleanse my soilure, and escape The heavy
wrath of Her, the Deity ; And passing onward till I reach some spot
Untrodden, I will bury this my sword — Weapon most hostile —
digging in the earth Where none shall see ; let Night and Hades
there Keep it, below ! For from the hour I gat This gift from Hector,
my arch-enemy. Never one boon, from Argives, did I gather :
 Ajax 6i But that is a true proverb which men use, " A foe's
gifts are no gifts," and profit not. — Wherefore in future we must
learn to bend Before the Gods, and try to reverence The sons of
Atreus. They are lords of us, And we must needs give way to them.
How else ? For even things terrible and exceeding strong Do homage
to the worthier ; thus is it Snow-laden winters pass away before Fair-
fruited summer-time ; Night's gloomy round Gives place anon to the
white steeds of Day To blaze with lustre ; the fell blast of winds Can
make cessation in the roaring main ;^^ And Sleep, the universal
vanquisher, Sets free the captives he enchained, at last. And who are
we, that we should not learn wisdom ? I for my own part, having
learnt of late Those hateful to us we are not to hate As though they
might not soon be friends again. Intend to measure, now, the
services I render to my friend, as if not so To abide for ever ; for of
mortals most Find friendship an unstable anchorage. But as to these
things all shall now be well ; Only do thou, woman, betake thee in.
And pray the Gods fully to grant fulfilment Of what my heart desires
; and you, my comrades. Grant me the self-same favour equally. And
signify to Teucer, if he come. To care for us, and to be good to you.
For I am going thither, where I must go ; But do ye as I bid you, and
perchance Ye may soon hear that I have gained, in spite Of present
evil, safe deliverance. \Exit. Chorus. I. I flutter in transport, I thrill
with delight ! Pan, what ho !— Pan, what ho ! Hither from the rocky
height Cyllenian, beat by snow.
 62 Sophocles O Pan, sea-faring Pan, Appear, appear ! King
of Gods who lead the measure, Be present here ! Begin the round
that winds at pleasure, Nysian or Cnosian ; For now would I be
dancing ; And across the Icarian sea Let the Delos-born, advancing,
King Apollo, visibly Stand by me, and in all things favour me ! 11. Lo,
Ares disperses a gloom from our eyes ! Now again — now again
Cause the sun-light to arise. And white days, free from pain. O'er the
swift careering fleet, O Zeus most high ! Now that Ajax, his
distresses Anew laid by, All worship to the Gods addresses.
Honouring them, as is most meet. 'Tis a long road knows no turning,
^ And there's nothing may not be. Now, from choler and heart-
burning Huge, against the Atreidae, Ajax relents so unexpectedly.
Enter a Messenger. Messenger. Friends, I would first announce —
Teucer is here, Come from the Mysian heights ; and entering in To
the assembly, is being set upon By all the Greeks at once. Being
ware of him. They ringed him round as he drew near, and straight
Assailed him with reproaches, right and left. Not one of them
excepted ; styling him " Kin to the madman, the conspirator "
Against the host, he should not come off clear. Short of being stoned
to death ! " It went so far. Swords leaped to hands, drawn from their
sheaths, already,
 Ajax 63 When the dispute, though it had run past bounds,
Ended, at instance of the seniors. But where is Ajax, to receive my
story ? One must report things to one's officers. ^^ I Mariner. He is
not within ; he has fitted his changed will To a changed way, and is
but now gone forth. Messenger. Heigh ho ! Either my sender on this
errand, then, Sent me too late, or I am proved a laggard ! I Mariner.
Why, what is lacking to this urgency ? Messenger. Teucer enjoined
he should by no means pass Forth of the hut, before himself was
present. I Mariner. He is gone, I tell you ; his intention turned To the
best of ends, that he may be relieved From the Gods' wrath.
Messenger, These words are full of folly, If Calchas justly can at all
divine. I Mariner. To what effect ? What does he know of it ?
Messenger. This much I know, for I was present there. Out from the
council and the circle of kings Calchas apart from the Atridae drew.
Put hand in Teucer's in a friendly way. And spake, and charged him
by all means to keep Ajax for this day present, that now is, Within
his tents — not let him go abroad, If he would ever look on him
alive. For till this day is done — such was his rede — The wrath of
great Athena strikes at him. " For lives presumptuous and
unprofitable \ Fail beneath sore misfortunes wrought by Heaven," '
The seer declared, "whenever seed of man Ceases to think as fits
humanity. Now he, the moment he set out from home, In answer to
his father's good advice Proved himself void of sense ; for he said to
him, ' Son, at the spear's point seek thou victory ; ' But seek it,
always, with the blessing of God.' But he replied vainly and
vauntingly ; ' My father, backed by Gods, a man worth nothing '
Might win the day ; but by the b'^^r I trust ' To pluck this glory,
though they stand aloof.' So high he boasted ; then again, in answer