Ajax
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Original / primary: Perseus Eng2
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or deep wine-cups did that man provide me, no sweet din of flutes, that miserable man, or pleasing rest in the night.
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And from love—god!—from love he has totally barred me. Here I lie uncared for, while heavy dews constantly wet my hair,
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damp reminders of joyless Troy.
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Chorus
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In the past bold Ajax was always my bulwark against night’s terrors and flying missiles. But now he has become an offering consecrated
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to a malignant divinity. What joy, then, what delight awaits me anymore? O to be where the wooded wave-washed cape fences off the deep sea,
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to be beneath Sunium’s jutting plateau, so that we might salute sacred Athens!
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Ajax
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Ah, Darkness, my light!
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O Gloom of the underworld, to my eyes brightest-shining, take me, take me to dwell with you—yes, take me. I am no longer worthy to look for help to the race of the gods,
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or for any good from men, creatures of a day. No, the daughter of Zeus, the valiant goddess, abuses me to my destruction. Where, then, can a man flee? Where can I go to find rest?
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If my past achievements go to ruin, my friends, along with such victims as these near me, and if I am inclined to foolish plunderings, then with sword driven by both hands all the army would murder me!
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Tecmessa
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Ah, what misery for me that a valuable man should speak words of a sort which he would never before now have endured to speak!
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Ajax
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Ah! You paths of the sounding sea, you tidal caves and wooded pastures by the shore, long, long, too long indeed
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have you detained me here at Troy. But no more will you hold me, no more so long as I have the breath of life. Of that much let sane men be sure. O neighboring streams of Scamander,
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kindly to the Greeks, no more shall you look on Ajax, whose equal in the army—here I will boast—
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Troy has never seen come from the land of Hellas. But now deprived of honor I lie low here in the dust!
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Chorus
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In truth I do not know how to restrain you, nor how to let you speak further, when you have fallen on such harsh troubles.
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Ajax
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Speak to those who hear.
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Ajax
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Already your words have been too many.
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Ajax
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Close the doors this instant!
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Ajax
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You have foolish hope, I think,
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Teucer
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Ah, misery, misery!
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Teucer
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O rash passion!
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Teucer
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Ah, misery—what about the man’s child? Where in all of Troy can I find him?
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Teucer
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Then bring him here right away, so that we may prevent some enemy from snatching him away, as a hunter snatches a cub from a lioness and leaves her barren! Go quickly; give me your help! It is the habit of men everywhere to laugh in triumph over the dead when they are mere corpses on the ground.
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Teucer
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And now just in time his son and his wife approach
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to arrange the burial of the pitiable corpse. Come here, nephew. Take your place near him, and grasp in supplication your father, your begetter. Kneel and pray for help, with locks of hair in your hand from me, her, and thirdly you;
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they are the suppliant’s only resource. But if any soldier from the army should tear you by violence from this body, then for his wickedness may he be wickedly cast out of his country and get no burial, but be severed at the root with all his race, just as I shear this lock.
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Take it, Nephew, and keep it safe. Let no one move you, but kneel there and cling to the dead. And you there, do not stand idly by like women, not men. Help defend us until I return, when I have seen to a grave for him, though all the world forbids it.