by Sophocles
TEKMESSA emerges from the compound. The gate is left open, exposing the tent front with its flaps closed.
TEKMESSA
Shipmates of Aias, blood brothers of Athens,
you who cherish the house of Telamon
so far away—
now is time for grief! Aias our rock,
our savage giant of a man gritting out everything
is down, dumbstruck. A raging
storm roils his mind! 270
LEADER
Day is backbreaking enough.
And night was worse?
O daughter of the Phrygian Teleutas,
by war he brought you to bed
and has loved you ever since—
you must know
something you could tell us.
TEKMESSA
How speak the unspeakable?
Madness in the night gripped him
like death— 280
the glory of our great Aias
it’s gone!
There . . . awful things in there.
Carcass corpses, blood-drenched offerings
by his own hand slaughtered!
CHORUS
(severally)
The way you talk about this fire-hardened warrior
we can’t stand it!
Or get past it.
With Greeks spreading the same rumor
this looms huge. 290
I dread what’s next. If his crazed hand
his dark gleaming sword
slaughtered all together, the cattle with the men
riding herd on them
he’ll die, for all to see, in shame.
TEKMESSA
So that’s where he got them!
Some he drags in, slams down,
cuts their throats.
Others he breaks their backs.
Then he goes after two white-footed rams, 300
cuts the head off one, then
the tip of its tongue.
And throws it all away!
The other he ties to a pillar
upright, the forefeet up,
grabs a leather harness, doubles it
and lashes out.
The whip hisses, he’s screaming
curses so awful
no man could think them. 310
It must be a god
came wailing through him.
CHORUS
(severally)
Time to pull something over our heads
and steal away quick afoot
or by ship
on benches pulling on banks of oars
go . . . somewhere!
The sons of Atreus so threaten us
we could be stoned to death
with him 320
—caught out in his fate—
if we stand by him.
TEKMESSA
No that’s past! That lightning crash.
Now is soft southerly breeze
after bloody rampage.
Now is worse harrowing pain.
He sees what he has done to himself
all by himself—
nothing eats deeper than that.
LEADER
Then we might pull through this. 330
Bad things seem less bad once they’re over.
TEKMESSA
Would you harm your friends to lighten
your own life? Or, as a friend to friends,
share their grief?
LEADER
Lady, grief on grief is worse.
TEKMESSA
His madness gone, then, makes it worse.
LEADER
How so?
TEKMESSA
When he was rapt in bloody fantasy
he was happy! For us, it was horrible.
Now it’s over. He’s stopped, seen what he’s done, 340
and dropped down in despair.
For us it’s still horrible. Isn’t this then
twice as bad?
LEADER
You’re right. He’s been struck
by a god.
How else explain he’s no happier now
than when his mind wasn’t his own?
TEKMESSA
Exactly.
CHORUS
But how did this madness
fly down on him, 350
tell us! We hurt too.
TEKMESSA
Then I’ll tell you what I know.
In the dead of night, when the night-lighting
torches had burnt out
he went for his double-edged sword
and was slipping out toward the dark
deserted paths. For nothing.
“Aias!” I called, “what are you doing?
There’s been no messenger, no trumpet, they’re all
asleep out there!” All he said was that old 360
catchphrase: “Woman, silence
becomes a woman.”
I stopped. And said no more.
He’d already gone out alone.
What happened out there, I can’t say.
He came back hauling captives
all roped together:
bulls, sheep dogs, bleating sheep.
Some he hung upside-down
and cut their throats. 370
Some he broke their spine.
Still others he tied up and tortured
like they were men!
Next I know he bolts outside
talking crazy to something crossing
his brain out there,
struggling to get the burden of his words out
cursing the sons of Atreus, and Odysseus,
all with little snorty laughs at how much
hurt he’d done them. 380
Suddenly he’s tearing back in, and then . . .
then . . .
slowly, heavily,
he came to his senses.
And looked. At what he’d done. The blood work.
And beat at his own head, with great
heaving sounds
sinking down—one more wreck
among the wretched carcasses of sheep.
And sat there, 390
fingernails digging into his hair.
A long time he didn’t move. Or speak.
Then he turned. Threatened me
to tell him everything. What happened,
what had he got himself into.
My friends, I was so scared
I told him all I knew.
And he cried! Like I never heard before!
Always he taught me only cowards
cry like that. And broken men. 400
When he grieved it wasn’t shrill
but low, rolling, like the groaning
of a wounded bull.
But now he won’t move: won’t eat, drink,
just sits there
among the animals his sword butchered.
Surely he’s brooding on something awful.
It’s there, the way he moans his agony.
Friends, that’s why I’m out here.
Go in, do something. Stop him. Sometimes 410
when friends say something it helps.
LEADER
Tekmessa! From what you say
his miseries live on under his skin.
Off: stutter babble, muted. AIAS in the tent.
TEKMESSA
And worse to come. Hear it?
AIAS, louder.
LEADER
He’s still mad! Or sees
what his madness has done.
AIAS
Son! My boy!
TEKMESSA
Eurysakes! He wants you!
What for? What’ll I do?
AIAS
Teukros! Where’s Teukros? Still off 420
on raiding parties? And me dying here?
LEADER
Sounds sane enough. Hey in there
open up, come out!
When he sees us, even me, he may
out of respect for our feelings
&nbs
p; get a grip on himself.
TEKMESSA pulls aside the tent flaps.
TEKMESSA
Here. . . . See the man
and what he has done.
AIAS exposed, steeped in his carnage.
AIAS
O O
my sailors! friends! 430
you alone
alone stand by me still—
look
what a storm surge of blood wrack
breaks over & around me!
LEADER
You were right. Look
how far gone he is.
AIAS
O O
comrades, old hands
who set out with oar blades 440
blazing through water—
you alone of those who care for me
can help me.
Come!
slaughter me with these beasts!
LEADER
Don’t say that!
Evil doesn’t cure evil.
You only make it worse.
AIAS
LOOK!
at the brave warrior 450
who did not back down—
who had the courage to murder
helpless, unsuspecting beasts.
See me
laughed at! To my shame.
TEKMESSA
Please, lord, don’t talk like that.
AIAS
Still here? Go find somewhere else!
gods o gods
LEADER
For love of the gods, ease
off. Learn something. 460
AIAS
Wretched fate twist! to let
those bastards
slip through my hands, and me grab
horned bulls, noble goats,
to pour their dark blood out.
LEADER
What’s done is done.
Nothing can change that.
AIAS
You
sneaking spying agent of evil,
Odysseus! the oiliest 470
sleaze in the army! I know
you can’t stop laughing, gloating over this.
LEADER
Who laughs or cries is for gods to say.
AIAS
Even now, broken, if I could just
set eyes on him . . . o o o o
LEADER
Don’t talk so cocky. Think
what a pit you’re in!
AIAS
O Zeus father of my line
let me just
kill the scheming sonofabitch, his two brother-kings, 480
and die!
TEKMESSA
If that’s your prayer, pray my death too.
How will I live without you?
AIAS
Aiai!
darkness
is my light:
death’s shadows
the clearest illumining
left to me.
O take me take me 490
down
to live in that darkness.
I am not fit to ask
help from the gods of forever
nor goodness from men,
the creatures of a day.
Athena great goddess
torturing me
belittles me to death.
Where is a man to go? 500
Where rest?
Where? If all my glory
mortifies among these carcasses?
Where? if mad obsessed
with victory
I disgraced myself?
A whole army gathers out there
to strike me down.
TEKMESSA
Don’t! I can’t bear hearing such a man
speak the words 510
he could never bring himself to speak.
AIAS
Surge
of water currents
rushing through the sea,
sea caves, sea meadows,
trees!
a long time, too long, you’ve kept me
here, at Troy—
but not now, not
now while I still breathe. 520
Let everyone know that.
River Skamander, so kindly unkind
to all the Greeks: this is one soldier
whose face you won’t see
float on your waters anymore.
I don’t mind saying, with pride,
of all the Greek army
Troy has not seen such a warrior
as this
dishonored in the dirt of earth. 530
CHORUS
This is horrible. What can we do?
Stop you? Let you go on? How?
AIAS
Aiai! My very name, Aias
is a cry in the wilderness.
Who’d have thought
my name would sound my life?
I really can cry out now
aiai! aiai! aiai!
my name in pieces.
I’m the man whose father won 540
the prize of prizes, the most beautiful,
fighting here. And I’m the son
who in Troy won as much,
as powerful as he—for what, to die
in disgrace among the Greeks!
One thing for sure—had Achilles himself
lived to present his own arms
to the worthiest warrior here, I alone
would have got my hands on them. But
when the sons of Atreus procured them, 550
giving them to that schemer who works
every angle there is—they brushed aside
all the victories of Aias!
Let me tell you something. If my eyes
my mind hadn’t been seized, hustled
away from where they were headed,
that would’ve been the end of those two
lobbying the judges. Yet the stone-eyed
look of the unbending daughter of Zeus
just as I was about to strike them 560
made me crazy! Stained my hands
with animal blood. Now they’re out
celebrating, they got away! no thanks
to me for that. When a god spellbinds
a warrior, even losers may elude him.
Now what will I do?
The gods hate me. The Greeks hate me.
The very plains of Troy hate me too.
Should I abandon this beachhead, leave
the sons of Atreus to go it on their own 570
and sail back across the Aegean? I should
go home! Yet how can I face my father,
Telamon? How could he stand to look at me,
stripped of every shred of honor, knowing
he himself stands crowned with glory?
How could he bear it?
Well then
should I go up to the walls of Troy
single-handed, alone, take on
every last one and go down 580
fighting? But then the sons of Atreus
would be only too happy at that.
I must find a way to show my father,
old as he is, his son wasn’t gutless.
To want to live
longer, when longer
means only misery, is shameful.
What’s the joy, day after day, taking
one step nearer, one step back from, death?
I figure the man who keeps on going 590
in hopeless hope isn’t worth a damn.
If he’s noble he’ll live with honor
or die with it. That’s all there is to it.
LEADER
Aias, no one says you’re doing anything
but telling the truth. The way you feel it.
But hold on. Give your friends
a say in this.
TEKMESSA
My lord, nothing is worse than bad luck
that dooms us. My father in Phrygia
was a free man, rich and powerful, 600
yet I’m a slave. It seems that
what the go
ds called for
your strong hand made happen.
Even so, now that I share your bed
I wish you well—and I beg you
by Zeus who guards our hearth,
don’t leave me to your enemies’
contempt, don’t let them get
their hands on me!
The day you die, I’m alone. 610
Helpless. The Greeks
will drag me off, your son too,
to eat whatever a slave eats.
My master, one of my masters,
will pelt me with shame
in a hail of stinging words:
“Look at her. Aias’s whore.
He was such a big hero,
she had it so good. Now look:
all she does is shitwork.” 620
They’ll say that. That’s how some
demon will get on me. But think
how shameful their words leave you
and yours . . .
Don’t do this
to your father, so painfully aged!
Don’t! Not to your mother,
so old after so many years
praying night after night
you’ll come home alive. 630
Pity your son
who will pass his life without you,
brought up under the thumb
of guardians who couldn’t care less.
Think what
desolate life you’re leaving us.
All I have is you. With nowhere
to turn to. Backed by fate your spear
drove through my country and left it
gone! 640
My father too, and mother, fate took
down into Hades. What home have I
without you? What means to live?
You’re my life!
Remember me? Haven’t we had joy?
A man shouldn’t forget that.
One kindness breeds more kindness.
But when a man lets slip away the joy
he’s had, there’s nothing noble in that.
LEADER
If only you would pity her, Aias, 650
as I do, you’d commend what she says.
AIAS
Sure. I’ll commend her—if
she does what I tell her to.
TEKMESSA
Aias, I will always do anything for you.
AIAS
Bring me my son. Now. I want to see him.
TEKMESSA
O. Yes, but . . . I was so afraid
I let him leave the tent.
AIAS
When I had that . . . problem? Or what?
TEKMESSA
Yes. In case he ran into you. And died.
AIAS
The way my fate goes, could be. 660
TEKMESSA
Well, at least I stopped that.
AIAS