The House of Admetus: Eumelus, The Lost Trilogy of Plays by Agathon
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for the honor of hiding inside the great wooden horse that led to the fall of mighty Troy, though I was winner of that contest. In all other honors, father and son were seen as equals. It is good to know that my successor as head of this country will be as great or even greater than I; my glory can only be enhanced by that of my son.
IPHTHIME: Truly he is a son to be proud of, a hero of Achaea and Pherae. But you have not spoken of the time from the destruction of Troy to your landing in Pagasae early this day. We did not know if you were destroyed by Poseidon’s tempest or by some other misfortune from the gods.
EUMELUS: It is a story simply told. Our six ships, as with the rest of the returning Danaan fleet, were struck by a mighty storm that claimed the lives of many men expecting to see their families and to live long lives of honor and wealth. The gods were angry with the Achaeans for their sacrilege of temples and their killing of those beloved by the Trojan gods during the ancient city’s sack. Two of our ships slipped beneath the waves with all their crews of warriors and sailors, the storm preventing us from rendering assistance. For two days we rode before the wind with faint hope of survival. But on the third day, the storm broke and fair weather returned; seas calmed, and the sun shown brightly. Our ships were in need of repair, and our stores exhausted, so landfall was desperately sought. The gods must have taken pity on us or felt we were punished sufficiently, because we made landfall on the coast of a distant land. The people that greeted us were friendly and spoke a language that is not dissimilar to our own. They provided food and water and even assisted us in the repair of our ships. We stayed near our ships for safety and only ventured to the nearest village when necessary. Their king, located in a capital further inland, sent a contingent of soldiers to watch over us but otherwise did not hinder us. By the time both ships and men were mended, the sailing season had passed, and we were forced to remain longer for fair sailing weather. But it was not long before our men became restive and conflict erupted between our homesick warriors and those that inhabit the land. The people rose up in anger and told us we were no longer welcome in their land. Some small conflicts occurred resulting in blood shed, and their army began to prepare for battle. Though our men were experienced soldiers and well equipped, the native army outnumbered us ten to one, hence we decided to take our chances at sea rather die on some foreign beach away from our families. We had seen enough of war. We sailed northwest from that coast in the general direction we believed that home lay. Surviving several storms and refitting at islands along the way, we finally arrived on the coast of our home mainland. Once oriented to our position, we moved north with all haste along the coast. We were welcomed at many cities as heroes and invited to stay indefinitely, though there were a few that viewed us as invaders or pirates showing us no hospitality and necessitating a rapid retreat on our part. But our desire was to return home as quickly as we could and restricted our landing to only seeking food and water. It is a story that, with elaboration, I am sure will be woven by the muses into tales of glory.
IPHTHIME: It was truly miraculous that you have survived and returned to us. There will be many days of sacrifices to the gods to thank them for their munificence. I see that your spoil of war, Demnosia, is fairer and younger than I. Is she a rival for your affections, should Pythons, son of Aphrodite, guide my emotions?
EUMELUS: There is no rival to your affections, only you hold a woman’s place in my heart. To prove that pledge, I give her to you to do with as you wish. She is but a remnant of a hated enemy and has no hold on me. You are my Queen and wife, and none, save my sons, will ever be above you.
IPHTHIME: I am sure I will find a place for her to be useful. And what of you, Admetus, do you have plans for your Trojan princess?
ADMETUS: Do not worry, Mother, she has been a comfort to me, and I plan to retain her. You will have to pick from the other slaves if you need more help maintaining our home and kingdom.
IPHTHIME: It sounds as though this pretty remnant has wormed her way into my son’s affections. Eumelus, we must keep an eye on our young prince, or he may bring about a merger of Trojans and Achaeans that would have prevented this recent war that cost us so dearly in time and men.
EUMELUS: Admetus is now capable of making decisions for himself and will no longer bend to the wishes of his parents, especially in matters of the heart. I have aged considerably during the long years away, not only from the passage of time but also from the weight of responsibility. I have no desire to spend the remaining years of my life continuing to bear this burden. I plan to share that burden with my son now and, within a few years, transfer it to him. We have talked at length about it over this last year of our homeward journey and have made plans that I will have to expound to you after celebrations have ceased and life has returned to normal routine.
IPHTHIME: And what of your other son here, what do you see for his future?
EUMELUS: We have talked much of Promachos and of the role he will play in the future of our kingdom. He will be expected to support his brother and help with the running of our country. There are ruling tasks that can only be entrusted to one whose loyalty is unquestioned. A faithful right hand is something that all men need, as Patroclus to Achilles.
IPHTHIME: As I am sure you would have had, had any of your close relatives survived?
EUMELUS: Regrettably, that is true.
IPHTHIME: Come, you two must want to clean up and dress in kingly robes for the banquet.
The group moves back into the palace except Eumelus, who is stopped by Teuthras coming out of the palace, but before he can say any thing the Chorus comes up to the King.
CHORUS: Oh great King, we rejoice at your safe return from the siege of Troy. We have sacrificed to the gods for the happy homecoming of our King and army. And now it has transpired.
EUMELUS: I thank you for your greeting and sacrifices. I praise your men for their valiant serves in our victorious war.
CHORUS: It is of sacrifices that we would discuss with you, our King. When you left just over a decade ago, you took our army in eleven ships to fight the Trojans. But now you return with but four. The men returning are but a small portion of those that went to war with you. They were our husbands, brothers, sons, and fathers and now most are lost.
EUMELUS: It is true that our losses were great, not only to Ares before the windy walls of Troy but to Poseidon’s tempests on wine-dark seas and to Apollo’s pestilence in our encampments.
CHORUS: But for what cause have our men died? What was gained to offset the loss of this generation and the next from Pherae and Iolkos? What will fill the wives’ marriage beds and empty wombs? What will replace the mothers’ grandchildren that will never be born? Who will serve as the head of the household, which has lost father or brother? Who will provide for the families that no longer have working men and for those grown too old to provide for themselves? Will you, Great King, do this?
EUMELUS: Your men were warriors who fought to defend Achaean honor, corrupted by the sacrilege of Paris, prince of Troy. The gods ordained the punishment of Troy and to oppose them would have resulted in our misfortune by divine decree. We serve at their whim. Our warriors died as heroes to be admired by future generations and to be afforded special treatment in the afterlife. This should be comfort enough for you.
CHORUS: Honor is a word that men use to raise themselves above others; a word used to have make men do things that they might not otherwise do; a word to justify the desire to kill each other. Will honor put food in the bellies of our children? It’s a hollow word. When a woman does not have a loving son or husband to care for her after she has grown too old to be of use, she is treated as less than a slave and countenanced to die without sympathy. What good is the honor of her lost loved one to her?
EUMELUS: You women cast a pall upon my joyous homecoming by your moans. I cannot reverse what fates have already run their course.
CHORUS: Even you had doubts about the worth of traveling to far off Troy, to fight for the wife of the Atreus brother.
But you chose to go with army and fleet to war without regard for those left behind, including your young wife and son.
EUMELUS: You reprimand me for going to war for the sake of Menelaus and his brother, but I did not want to leave my new wife and resisted the call to join the Achaeans at Aulis. But the gods signified by their omen that for me to not join in the expedition would be to incur their wrath. I could not risk that for kingdom or self. I took as few of our men as I could, leaving many here to defend the kingdom. When I left on this mission I did not realize the siege of Troy would extend over so many years and that there would be little option to return. Once committed, we could not abandon the siege without bringing dishonor upon our people. I had no desire to remain away from my beloved wife and son, from my home and marriage bed. War is a young man’s task, and, to those thrust into Ares caldron, time weighs heavily. Many a warrior entered this war with the energy of youth in his limbs but has returned aged beyond his years. Even for kings, the hardships of campaign are many. To live in ships and tents in all seasons, was to freeze during the short days and to swelter in the long ones. To eat, at times, food that one would not give to one’s