Ajax Minerva Son of Laertes, thy unwearied spirit Is ever watchful to surprise the foe ; I have observed thee wandering midst the tents At th' utmost verge, and meas'ring o'er his steps But late impressed ; like Sparta's hounds of scent Sagacious dost thou trace him, nor in vain ; For know, the man thou seekst is not far from thee : Yonder he lies, with reeking brow and hands Deep-stained with gore ; cease then thy search, and tell me Wherefore thou com'st, that so I may inform Thy doubting mind, and best assist thy purpose. Ulysses Minerva, dearest of th' immortal powers, not, that well-known Doth like the Tyrrhene trump awake my soul, Right hast thou s£iid, I come to search my foe, A deed of horror hath he done this night, If it be he, for yet we are to know The certain proof, and therefoi'e came I here A willing messenger : the cattle all, Our flocks and herds, are with their shepherds slain. One of our spies, who saw him on the plain, His sword still reeking with fresh blood, confirmed it Instant 1 fled to search him, and sometimes I trace his footsteps, which again I lose I know not how ; in happy hour thou com'st To aid me, Goddess ; thy pi'otecting hand Hath ruled me ever, and to thee I trust My future fate. 'Min. I know it well, Ulysses, And therefore come to guard and to assist thee Propitious to thy purpose. Ulysses Do I right, My much -loved mistress 1 Mix. Doubtless; his foul deed Doth well deserve it. Ulysses What could prompt his hand To such a desperate act 1 Minerva Achilles' arms ; His rage for loss of them. Ulysses But wherefore thus Destroy the flock ? Minerva 'Twas in your blood he thought His hands were stained. Ulysses Against the Grecians then Was all his WTath ? Minerva And fatal had it proved To them, if I had not prevented it. Ulysses What darijig insolence could move his soul To such a deed ? Minerva Alone by night he wandered In secret to attack you. Ulysses Did he come Close to our tents ? Minerva Even to the double portal Where rest your chiefs. Ulysses What power could then withhold His mad'ning hand ? Minerva I purposely deceived His sight, and saved him from the guilty joy, Turning his rage against the mingled flocks, Your gathered spoil ; on these with violence He rushed, and slaughtered many ; now he thought That he had slain th' Atridse, now believed Some other chiefs had perished by his hand, I saw his madness and still urged him on, That he might fall into the snare I laid : Tired with his slaughter now he binds in chains The living victim, drives the captive herd Home to his tent, nor doubts but they are men : There beats with many a stripe the helpless foe, But I will show thee this most glaring frenzy, That to the Grecians what thy eyes behold Thou mayst report ; be confident, nor fear His utmost malice ; I shall turn his sight Askant from thee. Ajax, what ho ! come forth. Thou who dost bind in chains thy captive foes ! Ajax I say, come forth before the portal. [him. Ulysses What wouldst thou do, Minerva ? Do not call Minerva What should Ulysses fear 1 Ulysses Oh ! by the gods I do entreat thee, let him stay within. Minerva But wherefore? Thou hast seen him here before. Ulysses He ever was and is my deadliest foe. Minerva Oh ! but to laugh an enemy to scorn Is mirth most grateful. Ulysses I had rather still He came not here. Minerva And art thou then afraid To see a madman 1 Ulysses I should little dread Minerva He will not see tlieo be thou e'er so near, Ulysses Impossible I his eyes are still the same. Minerva But I sliall throw a veil of darkness o'er them. Ulysses By powers immortal all things may be done. Minerva Wait then in silence till he comes. Ulysses I will ; And yet 'twere better to retire. Minerva What ho ! Ajax again I call thee; wherefore payst thou So little reverence to thy guardian power? Ajax Scene II. Hail to the daughter of great Jove ! to thee, Minerva hail ! Thou com'st in happy hour, For I will crown thee with the golden spoils Which I have gained by thy assisting hand. Minerva Well hast thou spoke ; but say, has Ajax dipped His spear in Grecian blood ? I'll not deny it. Minerva Did th' Atridae feel Thy vengeful arm ? Minerva If I understand thee, They are both dead. And take my arms away. Laertes' son, hath he escaped thy wrath ? Ajax Talkst thou of him, that fox accursed ? Minerva I mean Thy foe, Ulysses. The fairest of my spoils ; I have him here ; He shall not perish yet. Minerva What 'vantage then M eanst thou to draw from his confinement ? I'll have him bound to the pillar. Minerva And what then Wouldst thou inflict ? With many a bloody stripe, he shall be slain. Minerva Do not torment him thus. Minerva would I gratify thy will, But this, and this alone must be his fate. Minerva Since 'tis so pleasing to thee, be it so. Nor quit thy purpose. Thus, great Minerva, mayst thou ever smile Propitious on me, and assist thy Ajax ! [Exit. Minerva Scene III. Ulysses. Minerva Behold, Ulysses, here the mighty strength Of power divine : lived there a man more wise, Ulysses None, none indeed ; alas ! I pity him ; E'en in a foe I pity such distress. For he is wedded to the worst of woes : His hapless state reminds me of my own. And tells me that frail mortals are no more Than a vain image and an empty shade. Minerva Let such examples teach thee to beware Against the gods thou utter aught profane ; And if perchance in riches or in power Thou shin'st superior, be not insolent ; For, know, a day sufficeth to exalt Or to depress the state of mortal man : The wise and good are by the gods beloved, But those who practise evil they abhor, [^Exeunt. Of illustrious Telamon, Monarch of the sea-girt isle, I'^iiir Salamis, if fortune smile C)n thee, I raise the tributary song, For praise and virtue still to thee belong : But when, inflicted by the wrath of Jove, Grecian slander blasts thy fame, And foul reproach attaints thy name, Then do I tremble like the fearful dove. 80, the last unhappy night, Glamours loud did reach mine ear And filled my anxious heart with fear, Which talked of Grecian cattle slain, Pleased at his prey, rejoicing at the sight. Thus false Ulysses can prevail, Whisp'ring to all his artful tale. His tale alas ! too willingly received ; Whilst those who hear are glad to know And happy to insult thy woe. For who asperse the great are easily believed. The poor like us alone are free From the darts of calumny. Whilst envy still attends on high estate : Small is the aid which we can lend, Without the rich and powerful friend ; Tlie great support the low, the low assist the great. But 'tis a truth which fools will never know ; From such alone the clamours came Which strove to hurt thy spotless fame, Whilst we can only weep, and not relieve thy woe. Happy to 'scape thy piercing sight, Behold them wing their rapid flight, As trembling birds from hungry vultures fly, Sudden again shouldst thou appear, The cowards would be mute with fear. And all their censures in a moment die. Cynthia, goddess of the grove. Daughter of immortal Jove, To whom at Tauris frequent altars rise, Indignant might inspire the deed, And bid the guiltless cattle bleed, Deprived of incense due, and wonted sacrifice. Perhaps, sad cause of all our grief and shame ! The god of war with brazen shield, For fancied inj'ries in the field, Might thus avenge the wrong, and brand thy name, For never in his perfect mind On flocks and herds his rage had never spent ; It was inflicted from above : May Phoebus and all-powerful Jove Avert the crime, or stop the punishment ! If to th' Atridse the bold fiction came From Sisyphus' detested race, But from thy tents come forth, and vindicate thy fame. Adds new vigour to thy foes, As flames from aiding winds still fiercer grow ; Whilst the loose laugh, and shameless Ue, And all their bitter calumny, AVith double weight oppress and fill our hearts with woe. Tecmessa ACT 11. Scene I. Chorus. Tecmessa Sons of Erectheus, of Athenian race, Oppressed with grief behold a wretched woman, Far from her native soil, appointed here To watch your hapless lord, and mourn his fate. CnoR What new misfortune hath the night brought forth ? Say, daughter of Teleutas, for with thee. To share the nuptial bed, and therefore thou Canst best inform us. Tecmessa How shall 1 declare Sadder than death th' unutterable woe ! This night, with madness seized, hath Ajax done A dreadful deed ; within thou mayst behold The tent 's o'erspread with bloody carcases Of cattle slain, the victims of his rage. Chorus Sad news indeed thou bringst of that brave man : A dire disease ! and not by human aid To be removed ; already Greece hath heard And wond'ring crowds repeat the dreadful tale ; Alas ! I fear th' event ! I fear me much. Lest, with their flocks and herds the shepherds slain, Against himself he lift his murth'rous hand. Tecmessa Alas ! this way he led his captive spoils. And some he slew, and others tore in sunder ; From out the flock two rams of silver hue He chose, from one the head and tongue divided, He cast them from him ; then the other chained Fast to the pillar, with a double rein Bore cruel stripes, and bitt'rest execrations, Which not from mortal came, but were inspired By that avenging god who thus torments him. Chorus Now then, ray friends (for so the time demands), Each o'er his head should cast the mournful veil, And instant fly, or to our ships repair, And sail with speed ; for dreadful are the threats Of the Atridse ; death may be our lot, And we shall meet an equal punishment With him whom we lament, our frantic lord. Tecmessa He raves not now ; but like the southern blast. When lightnings cease and all the storm is o'er, Grows calm again ; yet to his sense restored, He feels new griefs ; for oh ! to be unhappy. And know ourselves alone the guilty cause Of all our sorrows, is the worst of woes, Chorus Yet if his rage subside we should rejoice ; The ill removed, we should remove our care. Tecmessa Hadst thou then rather, if the choice were given, Thyself at ease, behold thy friend in pain. Than with thy friend be joined in mutual sorrow 1 Chorus The double grief is sure the most oppressive. Tecmessa Therefore, though not distempered, I am wretched. Chorus I understand thee not. Whilst he was mad, was happy in his frenzy, And yet the while affected me with grief Who was not so ; but now his rage is o'er, And he hath time to breathe from his misfortune, Himself is almost dead with grief, and I Not less unhappy than I was before ; Is it not double then ? Chorus It is indeed ; And much I fear the wrath of angry heaven, If from his madness ceased he yet receive No kind rehef . Tecmessa 'Tis so ; and 'twere most fit You knew it well. Chorus Say then how it began ; For like thyself we feel for his misfortune.^. Tecmessa Since you partake the sorrows of a friend, I'll tell vou all. Know then, at dead of ni'^'ht, What time the evening taper were expired, Snatching his sword, he seemed as if he meant To roam abroad. I saw and chid him for it ; What wouldst thou do, I cried, my dearest Ajax i Unasked, uncalled for, whither wouldst thou go 1 No trunipt't sounds to battle, the whole host Is wrapped in sleep. Then did he answer me With brief but sharp rebuke, as he was wont : '* Woman, thy sex's noblest ornament jl; Is silence." Thus reproved, I said no more. • Tlien forth he rushed alone, where, and for what, I knew not ; but returning, he brought home In chains tlie captive herd, in pieces some He tore, whilst others bound like slaves he lashed Indignant ; then out at the portal ran, And with some shadow seemed to hold discourse Against tli' Atrida?, and Ulysses oft Would he inveigh ; or, laughing loud, rejoice That he had ta'en revenge for all his wrongs ; Then back he came. At length, by slow degrees, His frenzy ceased ; when, soon as he beheld The tents o'erwhelmed with slaughter, he cried out, And beat his brain ; rolled o'er the bloody heaps Of cattle slain, and tore his clotted hair. Long fixed in silence : then, with horrid threats He bade me tell him all that had befallen And what he had been doing. I obeyed. Trembling with fear, and told him all I knew. Instant he poured forth bitt'rest lamentations, Such as I ne'er had heard from him before. For grief like that, he oft would say, betrayed A weak and little mind, and therefore ever When sorrow came refrained from loud complaint. And, like the lowing heifer, inly mourned. But sinking now beneath this sore distress. He will not taste of food or nourishment ; Silent he sits, amid the slaughtered cattle, Or, if he speaks, utters such dreadful words As shows a mind intent on something ill. Now. then, my friends, for therefore came I hither. Oh I if ye have the power, assist me now ; Perhaps ye may ; for oft th' afflicted man Will listen to the counsels of a friend. Chorus O daughter of Teleutas ! horrible Thus raving, and thus miserable. Tecmessa Louder you'll hear him soon ; marked ye, my friends, How deep his groans ] Chorus He seems to rave, Or mourns, reflecting on his madness past. Tecmessa Alas ! he calls Eurysaces. Where art thou, child? What would he have with thee? Ajax [ivithin]. Teucer, 'tis thee I call; where art thou, Teucer ? Still must he chase his prey, whilst Ajax dies ? Chorus He seems of perfect mind — open the doors, Let him come forth. Who knows but sight of us May keep him so. Tecmessa I'll open them — now see Your master there, and judge of his condition. The name of friends, ye see the dreadful storm How it o'er whelms me. Chorus \The doors are thrown open and Ajax discovered. Scene II. \aside to Tecmessa]. What thou saidst, alas ! Was but too true ; he seems indeed distracted. Ajax My fellow-sailors ! whose assisting hand Plied the tough oar, and led me through the main, From you alone can I expect to meet Or love or friendship ; therefore show it now, And kill me. Chorus Talk not thus, nor thus increase By added woes tliy dreadful malady. Ajax Dost thou behold th\s once intrepid Ajax, The brave, the mighty, long for strength renowned And dauntless courage in the bloody iield ; j Dost thou l)ehold him ? Oh ! what laughter now, What vile reproach must he sustain ! My lord, my master, do not talk thus sadly. Ajax \to Tecmessa]. Wilt thou not home ? Wilt not be gone ? Tecmessa O me ! Chorus Be patient ; by the gods let me entreat you, Be more composed. The curst Atridse 'scape, and shed the blood Of harmless cattle ! Chorus But why sorrow thus For what is past, and cannot be recalled ? Ajax How will that subtle instrument of ill, Laertes' prying son, insult me now, And smile at my misfortunes ! Chorus That must be As seems most fitting to the gods ; from them Or grief or joy must flow. That I could see him ! wretched as I am ! Chorus This is no time for boasting : seest thou not How very weak thou art ? My great progenitor ! oh, grant me this ! Grant me to slay that hateful, talking slave. With the proud princes ; then well pleased myself Should perish last. Tecmessa Oh ! if thou prayst for death, Pray too for mine ; for wherefoi-e should I live When thou art gone 1 And hope ! oh wrap me in your friendly shade, A TTillIng gucct ! I daro net look for IiqI~), Or from the gods above, or men below ; The powerful daughter of eternal Jove To death devotes me. Whither can I fly, Or where remain, my fame and glory lost In this sad frenzy ? Left without a friend, And the whole army bent on my destruction ! Tecmessa Alas ! how dreadful 'tis to hear such words, Ajax Ye well-known floods that roll into the main. Ye caves and forests by the rocky shore ! Years heaped on years fast by the walls of Troy Have ye detained me, but no longer now Amongst the living shall ye ever see Nor shall thy neighbouring waves, Scamander, still To Greece beneficent, behold me more : Troy never saw, forgive the boastful word, Though now dishonoured thus, and thus oppressed. Chorus I would not have thee thus lament thy woes, And yet I know not how to chide thee for it. So hard thy lot. Would e'er so well have suited my condition ! Oh ! I have reason to lament indeed. For sure there is not such a wretch as Ajax ! Long since at Troy my valiant father fought. And to his native land, with glory crowned, Bore back the meed of his distinguished virtues : Nor less renowned for gallant deeds was once His hapless son, though now he perish thus Inglorious : yet Achilles, well I know, Were he alive, and to bestow his arms On him who best deserved the prize, to me. And me alone, would 'judge, the greo.t reward : But little deemed the Atridse worth like mine. And therefore gave them to that vile impostor. Author of every evil work, Ulysses. Had not my mind been wrought on by some power Superior, and my eyes averted from them. They had not lived to give another sentence ; But Jove's great daughter, the invincible, The dreadful Pallas, turned my arm aside, Just raised against them, and inspired me thus With liorrid rage to dip my murd'rous hand In blood of guiltless cattle : they meantime Smile at tlie danger 'scaped, and triumph o'er me. But, when the gods oppose us, valour bends To cowai-dico, and strength to weakness yields ; By Troy detested, and by Greece forsaken ? Shall I go leave the Atridae here alone To fight their cause, and seek my native land ? But how shall I appear before my father. Spoiled of his honours 1 he who ever crowned ^Vith glory sits ; it must not, cannot be. What if I rush amid the Trojan host, And with my single arm oppose them all, Do something noble, and as nobly perish ! But that would please th' Atridje, therefore never Shall it be done : no, 1 will do a deed To show my father that I still deserve The name of son, and emulate my sire : When life but teems with unremitted woes, 'Tis poor in man to wish a longer date : For what can day on day, and year on year, But put off wished-for death, and lengthen pain ? Of little worth is he who still depends On fruitless hope ; for it becomes the brave To live with honour, or to die with glory. Ye have my thoughts. Chor Thoughts not unworthy of thee, Ajax ; but quit, oh ! quit, thy horrid purpose. And yield thee to thy friends. Tecmessa My lord, my master, W^hich cruel fortune brings on human kind : Of noblest race (a better, Phrygia boasts not) Tecmessa was, and from a father sprung Happy and free, though now a wretched slave ; For so the gods and thy all-conqu'ring arm Decreed : but since partaker of thy bed. Thou knovv'st I ever have with tend'rest care Watched o'er thee : therefore, by domestic Jove, Here I entreat thee, by the sacred tie That binds us, let me not with foul reproach And bitter scorn be taunted by thy foes, When they surround me, as I know they will : For oh ! when thou shalt die, that very day The Greeks with violence will seize on me ; Tecmessa then and thy loved son shall eat The bread of slavery. Then some haughty lord, Insulting loud, shall cry, behold the wife How is she fall'n ! from envied happiness To servitude and woe ! Such vile upbraidings Oft shall I hear, on thee and on thy race Casting foul shame. Oh, then relent, my Ajax 1 Think on thy father in the vale of years, Think on thy aged mother, who with vows Incessant prays the gods to send thee back Safe to thy native land ! Pity thy son, Without a father in his tender youth To form his mind, left to the unfriendly hands Of those who love him not. Alas ! what woes Wilt thou bequeath to me and to tliy child ! I have no hope, no stay but thee alone. Thy hand destroyed my country and my mother ; Death snatched my father to the realms below. Deprived of thee what country will receive me, Or where shall I subsist ? Thou art my all, My only safeguard : do not, do not leave me ! Nought so becomes a man as gratitude For good received, and noble deeds are still The offspring of benevolence, whilst he With whom remembrance dies of blessings past Is vile and worthless. Chorus Oh ! that thou couldst feel Pity like mine for tliis unhappy woman ! Then wouldst thou say her words deserve thy praise. Ajax And praised she shall be, if she but perforin What I require. In all will I obey thee, I would see my child : I hid him from thy sight Let him be brought. Because of Tecmessa It was : I feared indeed thou mightst destroy him. Ajax And well thou mightst : a deed like that became My sad condition. Tecmessa Therefore, to prevent it I kept him from thee. Tecmessa What wouldst thou have me do ? And speak to him. Tecmessa He is not far from hence ; The servants have him in theii' care. May I not see him ? Tecmessa Boy ! thy father calls thee : Let some one bring him hither. Doth he not hoar thee? Tecmessa They have brought him to thee. l^Enter Servants with Eurysaces. Ajax Scene III. Bring him this way : for if he be the son Will not aflright him ; he must learn like me In earliest years the savage laws of war, And be inured to scenes of death and slaughter. Mayst thou, my boy, be happier than thy fatlier ! In all things elt^e it will be no disgrace To copy me : I envy thee, my child, For that thou seest not thy own wretchedness ; The happiness of Kfe is not to know. Thy ignorance will keep thee free from pain, Till time shall teach thee what it is to grieye And to rejoice ; then must thou show thy foes From whom thou art descended. May the breath Of life meantime nourish thy tender frame, That thou mayst prove a comfort to thy mother ! I know there's not a Grecian that will dare Insult thee when thy father is no more ; For I shall leave thee to the best of guardians. The faithful Teucer, who far from thee now, Sent forth by Greece, repels the invading foe. Of you, my friends, companions of the war, The only boon I ask is, that ye urge This last request to Teucer : say, I begged That straight to Telamon and Eribcea, My aged parents, he would bear my child, To be the joy of their declining years, Till death shall call them to the shades below. Let not my arms by Greece, or by that plague Ulysses e'er be made the prize of glory For rival chiefs ; but do thou take, my boy, The sevenfold, vast impenetrable shield Whose name thou bear'st ; the rest be buried with me. Take hence the child with speed ; nor in the tents Let there be wailings. Women ever love To brood o'er sorrows, and indulge their woe. Shut to the door. The wound that must be cut No wise physician will attempt to heal With incantation, elegy, or song. Chorus \tiLrning to EuRYSACES I tremble when I hear thee threat'ning thus With sharp and piercing voice. Tecmessa Alas ! my lord. What wilt thou do ? Be silent, and be wise ; it will become thee. Tecmessa How am I tortured ! By the gods I beg thee. By our dear child, do not destroy us both. Ajax Thou dost perplex nie ; why revere the gods ? I am not bound to 't, for I owe them nothing. Tecmessa Be not so impious. Tecmessa Art thou resolved then ? Grows troublesome. Tecmessa Alas ! njy lord, I fear Ajax [to the Chorus]. Will ye not take her hence? Tecmessa Oh ! by the gods 1 beg tliee, he persuaded. To think thy words will ever change my purpose. ODE. Oh, happiest, best abode, my native isle, Fair Salamis, encompassed by the sea, On thee whilst gods and men indulgent smile, My country, oh behold and pity me ! A long, long time on Ida's plain Thus doomed inglorious to remain, While circling years roll o'er my wretched head ; New terrors still aifright me here, Still is my heart appalled with fear. Lest I should visit soon the mansions of the dead. The bravest leader of the Grecian host, Untimely visited by wrath divine. And in the desp'rate cruel frenzy lost. There was a time when sent by thee He gained the wreath of victory. Though now his weeping friends lament his fall : The ungrateful chiefs revere no more The virtues they admired before ; His gallant deeds are now forgotten all. Weighed down with years, when thou in hoary age, Unhappy mother, shalt these tidings hear How wilt thou weep and wail with grief sincere ! Not like the plaintive nightingale That warbles sweet her tender tale, But with loud shrieks of horrible despair : With sharpest anguish sore opprest, Then shalt thou beat thy aged breast, And in deep sorrow rend thy wild dishevelled hair. 'Tis better far to die than, hopeless still Of cure, to languish under sore disease ; When mortals suffer such distinguished ill The silent tomb is liberty and ease. His ancient fame and glory lost, Sinks down at last o'erwhelmed with foul disgiace* How will hapless father bear His son's distressful fate to hear, E'en such as never fell on ^acus his race ! Ajax [Exfijf.nt. Strophe. A^itistroplie. Stro2?he 2. Antistrophe 2. ACT III. Scene I. Still are the secret things of man revealed. And what is known again in darkness hid By endless and immeasurable time ; And nothing is there but in length of days May come to pass ; e'en sacred oaths are broken, And the fixed mind, perverse and obstinate. Subdued by time : I, who like hardened steel Wjis late inflexible, am softened now To pity and remorse by this dear woman ; I cannot bear to leave her here a widow Amidst her foes, or to forsake my child, A helpless orphan. No ; I will retire Along the shore, and seek the running stream, Avert the wimth of angry heaven, and wash My crimes away : there haply shall I find Some unfrequented spot where I may hide This fatal weapon, this destructive sword : Oh ! I will bury it deep in earth, that none May see it more, but night and Erebus Preserve it still from ev'ry mortal eye. E'er since that hapless day, when from the hand Of Hector 1 received this dreadful boon. Nought have I had from Greece but pain and woe True is the adage, " From the hands of foes Gifts are not gifts, but injurres most fatal." Hereafter will I yield me to the Gods And the Atridiu ; since they are my masters, 'Tis meet that 1 obey them : all that's strong And mighty must submit to poweis superior : Doth not the snowy winter to the bloom Of fruitful summer yield ? and night obscure, When by white steeds Aurora drawn lights up The rising day, submissively retire ? The roaring sea, long vexed by angry winds, Is lulled by milder zephyrs to repose, And oft the fetters of all-conq'ring sleep Are kindly loosed to free the captive mind. From Nature then, who thus instructs mankind. Long since I knew to treat my foe like one Whom I hereafter as a friend might love If he deserved it, and to love my friend As if he still might one day be my foe : For little is the trust we can repose In human friendships. But to my intent : Go thou, Tecmessa, and beseech the gods To grant what I request : do you perform The same kind ofiice ; and when Teucer comes, Tell him, the care of me and all my friends I leave to him : whither I must, I must. Obey my orders : wretched as I am Soon shall ye see me freed from all my woes. [£J'xei'ML Now let sounds of mirth and joy Every blissful hour employ : Borne on pleasure's airy wing, lo Pan ! to thee we sing : Thee, whom on the rocky shore Wreck- 'scaped mariners adore, Skilled the mazy dance to lead. Teach, oh teach, our feet to tread The round which Cretan Cnossus knows, At Nyssa which spontaneous rose ; Pan, oh ! guide this tuneful throng, Whjle to thee we raise the song, From Cyllene's snowy brow ; King of pleasures, hear us now ! "From thy mountains, oh, appear ! Joy and happiness are here : And do thou, O Delian king ! Now thy aid propitious bring ! Oh ! from the Icarian sea Come, Apollo, smile on me. All our sorrows now are o'er. Grief and madness are no more : See, the happy day appears, Mighty Jove ! that ends our fears ; Let us, free from every care, Gladly to our ships repair : Sinks, forgetful of his woes ; Humbly to the gods resigned, He devotes his better mind : Time that witliers can restore Human plejisures. Now no more Must we say our vows are vain ; Nought unlioped for should remain, Since, beyond our wishes, see 'Gainst th' Atridae all his rage See how milder thoughts assuage. Bitter strife and quarrels cease ; All is harmony and peace. Messenger Scene II. St7'ophe. Antist7'ophe. Scene III. Chorus. Messenger My friends, I bear you news of highest import From Mysia's rocky mountains hither comes The noble Teucer ; know, e'en now I saw him Amid the Grecian host, who, as he came, Surrounded, and on ev'ry side poured forth Reproaches on him. Not a man but cried '' Behold the brother of that frantic foe To Greece and to her council." Such their rage That they had well-nigh stoned liim ; swords were drawn, And dire had been the conflict, but that some Among the aged chiefs by calm advice Appeased the strife. But where is Ajax gone 1 That I may tell him : from oui- mastei-s nought Should be concealed. Chorus He is not now within. But just steps forth, as if on some new act Intent, well suited to his better mind. Messenger Alas ! too late did Teucer send me here, Or I am come too slowly. Chorus Why regret His absence thus ? Messenger 'Twas Teucer's strict command He should be kept within the tent, nor stir Till he arrived. Chorus But, to his sense restored, He went to deprecate the wrath divine, And expiate his oftence. Messenger Thy words are vain Chorus If Chalcas prophesy aright. What then Did Chalcas say ? Dost thou know aught of this 1 Messenger Thus far I know, for I was witness of it : Chalcas, retiring from the assembled chiefs Apart from the Atridte, gently pressed The hand of Teucer, and in tenderest friendship Besought him that by every human art And means to be devised he would prevent If he did ever wish to see him more. This day alone, he said, Minerva's wrath Would last against him. Oft the mighty fall In deep affliction, smit by angry heaven. When, mortal-born, to human laws they yield nor As mortals ought, submissively : thus spake To have a mind disturbed. When first he left His native soil, " Be conqueror, O my child ! " His father said, " but conquer under God." Impious and proud his answer was : " The worst Of men," he cried, " assisted by the gods May conquer ; I shall do the work without them." Such were his boastings ; and when Pallas once With kind assistance urged him to the fight, Dreadful and horrible was his reply : *' Go, queen, to other Grecians lend thy aid, The foe will never come." By words like these, And pride ill-suited to a mortal's pow'r. Did he offend the vengeful deity ; But if he lives, we may preserve him still, The gods assisting. So the prophet spake ; And Teucer bade me say, you all should try To keep him liere ; but if that cannot he, And Chalcas judge aright, he is no more. CiiOR. [to Tecmessa ivithm]. What ho ! Tecmessa, most unhappy woman ! Come forth and hear the tidings that he brings ; They wound us deep, and all our joys are gone. Tecmessa Scene IV. Messenger, Chorus. But why forbade him ] Tecmessa Scarce do I bi-eathe from still repeated woes, And now again thou call'st me : wherefore 1 Speak. Chorus This messenger hath brought us dreadful news Tecmessa Oh ! what is it ? Am I undone ? Messenger I know not what thou art ; Arfi great for him. Tecmessa Alas ! he is ; but why ? How thou afflict'st me ! Messenger Teucer hath forbade His wandering thus alone. And where is Teucer ? Messenger He will soon be here : He fears this fatal day. Tecmessa Undone Tecmessa ! Whence are his fears ? who told him 'twould be fatal ? Messenger Thestorian Chalcas did foretell this day Tecmessa [to the Chorus]. Assist me, friends, in this distressful hour. To Teucer haste, and bring him to my aid ; Some to yon western mountain bend your way, And some to th' east ; find out which path he went, Unhappy wanderer ! Oh ' he has deceived me, His former love forgotten all and gone ! What must we do, my child ? I must not sit Inactive here ; no, wheresoe'er I can I'll go to search him. Let us haste, my friends. Quick ! fly this instant, if we mean to save CiiOR. Behold us ready, not in v/ord alone, i But bent with speed to follow thee. Away ! / [Exeunt. Ajax ACT IV. Scene I. There stands my sword, and fixed as it may best Perform its office ; 'twas the gift of Hector, My worst of foes, whom I detested ever : The steel-devouring stone hath sharpened well Its keenest edge. Buried in Trojan earth It lies, and now in kindness seems prepared To end my wretched life. Thus far is well. And now, O Jove ! — for first to thee 'tis fit We pay due honours — I address my prayer. I ask not much : I ask thee but to send Some passing stranger here to bear the news Of my unhappy fate to Teuoer's ear, That he may first behold, and take me hence, Lest, by my foes discovered, I be cast A prey to dogs and birds. Forbid it, Jove ! Thee too, great leader of departed souls, Terrestrial Hermes, thee I call! oh, hear me! With easy steps, and swift, conduct me safe To my abode, soon as this fatal sword Shall reach my breast. And you, ye virgin powers From whom whate'er befalls of human ill Cannot be hid, ye goddesses revered, Swift to pursue the guilty, oh, behold, "D seize the murd'rers ! By my own sad hand As I shall perish, let my foes be slain By those wliom most they love ! Quick, fly, begone, Ye vengeful furies ! Gorge yourselves in blood, Nor spiire a man of all the Grecian host. And thou, O Sun ! who diiv'st the flaming car Along the vaulted sky, when thou shalt see My native soil, oh ! stop thy golden reins ; Tell the sad story to my hapless sire And my afllicted mother. AVhen she hears The mournful tale, her grief will fill the land With dreadful lamentations. But 'tis vain To weep my fate : the business must be done. O Death ! look on me. Death ; I come to thee — Soon shall we meet ; but thee, O glorious day ! And yon bright charioteer the sun, no more Shall I behold : e'en now thou hearst my last, My dying words. O light ! O sacred soil Of Salamis, my country, and her gods ! O noble Atliens ! O my loved companions ! Ye rivers, fountains, and fair fields of Troy ! ^ And yon, my honoured parents, oh, farewell ! / 'Tis the last word Ajax shall speak on earth : Semiciior. I . Labour on labour, toil go toil ! Oh, whither Have we not wandered 1 Yet no place informs us Chorus \ The rest be uttered to the shades below. Scene II. 2. 'Twas ours, your friends. Chorus I. What news ? Chorus 2. We've searched along The western shore. Chorus i. And is he found ? Chorus Alas! We met with nought but toil ; no siglit of him. Chorus i. We from the east return with like suc- cess ; For none have seen or heard of him that way. Chorus 2. Wlio will inform us ? who will say- Will not the watchful hind, who, void of sleep, Hangs laborious o'er the deep 1 From high Olympus will no pitying god, Will no kind Naiad of the flood. Tell us where he bent his way 1 For oh ! 'tis dreadful, wearied thus, to rove, Whilst all our pains successless prove To reach the destined goal, or And the man we love. Tecmessa [from ivithin]. Alas ! alas ! Chorus i . Hark ! from the neighbouring grove 1 heard a voice. Chorus 2. It is the wretched captive, Tecmessa Scene III. Chorus. Tecmessa Oh ! I am lost, my friends, undone, destroyed ! Chorus Ha ! what hath happened 1 Slain by the sword which he had buried here. Chorus Fatal sure was our return. Thy untimely death to mourn. Me, and all thy faithful train. Sad event, alas ! to me ! Sadder, woman, still to thee. Tecmessa Oh ! I have reason now to weep indeed. Chorus What hand performed the horrid deed ? Tecmessa His own Doubtless it was ; the sword he fell upon. Here, fixed in earth, declares it must be so. Chorus \approachm(j toivards the body]. Alone, without one pitying friend, Cam'st thou to this dreadful end ; as 1 not myself to blame, Who neglectful never came ? 13 ring him, Tecmessa, to my eyes, Tecmessa He is not to be seen. This folded garment Shall hide the horrid sight — a sight no friend "Would wish to see : whilst from his nostrils streams The black blood, more still issuing from the wound Made by his own destructive hand. O me ! What must I do 1 What friend will raise him up 1 Oh ! where is Teucer ? He should have been here To pay his last sad duty to a brother. What once thou hast been, and what now thou art. Thy very foes must sure lament thy fate. Thy sad purpose was designed ; Long since wert thou resolved to seek repose From thy never-ceasing woes : This from the daily sigh, the nightly tear, This from thy sorrows did I fear ; This from thy hate which nought could e'er assuage ; And 'gainst th' Atridse all thy rage : For never did thy soul contentment know, But still with fiercest indignation glow. Since gi'eat Achilles' arms were given to thy foo. Tecmessa O me ! Chorus Alas ! I know the wound must pierce Thy inmost soul. Tecmessa Unhappy, lost Tecmessa ! Chorus Oh ! I believe thou art indeed unhappy, Bereaved of such a friend. Tecmessa Thou but believ'st it ; 1 am too certain, for I feel it here. Chorus 1 know thou dost. Teo. What servitude, my child, Must we endure ? Who will protect us now ? Chorus Doubtless thy fear of future pain Fi'om the Atridte all are vain, For never can they mean such ills to thee ; Unfeeling they of human woe, Nor love nor piety could know ; May heaven avert the sad calamity ! Tecmessa The gods ordained it, and it must be so. Chorus But he hath suffered more than he deserved. Tecmessa Jove's dreadful daughter Pallas so decreed His fate, to gratify her loved Ulysses. Chorus Ulysses, ever pleased to see His madness, now will smile at thee, By him the curst Atrid?e led Perhaps will triumph o'er the dead, And in the cruel mirth with pleasure join. Tecmessa Let them rejoice, let them insult him now With savage joy ; but when the dreadful day Of battle comes, whom living they despised When dead they shall lament. Fools never ^now^ The treasure's value till tjie k-easure 's lost^ '"^ Buf^far moi'e bitter was lug''(Ieath to me Than sweet to them : to Ajax it was most welcome ; Death was his only wish, and he obtained it. Then wherefore should they triumph ? By the hand Then let Ulysses smile : he is not theirs. He lives not for the Grecians : he is gone, And has bequeathed his sorrows all to me. Teucer Scene IV. Tecmessa, Chorus. Teucer Alas ! alas ! Chorus Hark ! 'tis the voice of Teucer In mournful sighs lamenting our sad fate. Dear as these eyes to me, hath fame said true, And art thou iforie] ,y Ohor. O Teiicer ! he is dead. Teucer Unhappy fate I Chor 'Tis so indeed. Teucer Alas ! Wretch tlmt I am ! CuoK. Oh ! thou hast cause to weep. Teucer Dreadful calamity ! Chorus It is indeed Too much to bear. Teucer O wretched, wretched Teucer ! Where is the child 1 Is he at Troy ] Chorus Alone, And in the tent. Teucer Will ye not bring him to me H^"^ Lest he shall fall a victim to the foe, Even as the hunters seize the lion's whelp Left to its helpless dam? Quick ! fly ! assist me ; For all are glad to triumph o'er the dead. Chorus To thee, O Teucer ! he bequeathed the care Of his loved child, and thou obeyst him well. A sight so dreadful. Came I then for this With luckless speed ? O melancholy journey ! To seek thee long in vain, and thus at last To find thee dead before me, O my brother ! Quick through the Grecian host, as if some god Had brought the tidings, spi-ead the dire report Of thy untimely fate. Far from thee then 1 heard and wept, but now, alas ! I see Unveil the body ; let me view it well. And count my miseries. Horrid spectacle ! Oh ! rash advent' rous deed ! What weight of woe Thy death has laid on me ! Alas ! to whom Or whither shall I go ? Oh, wherefore, Teucer, Wert thou not here to stop a brother's hand ? What will our poor unhappy father say, The wretched Telamon ? Will he receive me With looks of love and pleasure, when 1 come Even in the best of times he was not wont To smile or joy in aught. What then will now His anger vent ? Will he not speak of me As of a faithless, base, unworthy son, The spurious offspring of a captive mother, Who hath betrayed and slain his best-loved Ajax To gain his fair possessions after death ? Thus will his wrath, sharpened by peevish a^e, Upbraid me guiltless ; and to slavery doomed, A wretched exile from his native land, Shall Teucer wander forth. Such dreadful ills Must I expect at home. At Troy my foes Are numerous, and my friends, alas ! how few ! What shall I do 1 How can I save thee now From this sad fate 1 Oh ! who could have foreseen That Hector, long since dead, at last should prove I do beseech you, mark the fate of both : Dragged the brave Trojan o'er the blood}^ field Till he expired ; and now, behold ! the sword, The fatal steel, and Pluto made the belt. Dreadful artificer ! JBiLt thiSj_an<Loil '^'SlSL. *" .Thatjiappens to us, is the woi^ of^ Heaven. ^mmmm^ If there be those who doubt it, let them hold -ilS^^i^S" Their diff'ring judgments — I shall keep my own. Chorus Teucer, no more ; but rather now prepare Against thy foe, whom yonder I behold This way advancing, with malignant smile And looks of ill intent. Teucer Who can it be ? From the army, thinkst thou 1 Chorus 'Tis the man whose cause We came to fight, e'en Menelaus. Teucer 'Tis so. As he approaches nigh, I know him well. Menelaus Scene V. Teucer, Chorus. Menelaus Stop there ! To thee I speak. Let go the body. T will not hnvo it touched. Teucer Why touch it not ? Menelaus Because it is my will^ and his who leads The Grecian host. Teucer But wherefore is it so ? Menelaus Greece fondly hoped that she had brought a friend And firm ally, but by experience found That Troy herself was not so much our foe With deadliest rage to murder all our host, And, but .some god did frustrate his intent, The fate himself hath met had been our own. Then had he triumphed ; but the gods ordained It should not be, and 'gainst the flocks and herds Turned all his fury ; wherefore know, there lives not A man of courage or of power sufficient He shall be cast, to be the food of birds That wander there. Thou mayst resent it too, B^it 'twill be vain. At least we will command When dead, whom living we could ne'er subdue, Nor ask thy leave. He never would submit, But now he must. Yield therefore, or we force thee. Tis the Plebeian's duty to obey The voice of those who bear authority. And he who doth not is the worst of men ; For never can the state itself support By wholesome laws, where there is no submission. An army's best defence is modest fear And reverence of its leaders ; without these It cannot conquer. It becomes a man How great soe'er his strength, still to remember A little, very little, may destroy him. He who is guarded by humility And conscious shame alone in safety lies ; But where licentious freedom and reproach Injurious reign, each as his will directs Still acting, know that city soon must fall From all its bliss, and sink in deepest woe. Eemember, then, respect is due to me. Let us not think when pleasure is enjoyed We must not suffer too and taste of pain ; For these to mortals still alternate rise. There lived not one so proud and arrogant It is my turn. Take heed, then. Touch him not, Lest, while thou striv'st to bury him, thyself Should drop into the tomb. Chorus O Menelaus ! Do not with maxims grave and wisdom's rules Mix foul reproach and slander on the dead. Teucer It should not move our wonder, O my friend ! To see the vulgar err, of meaner souls And birth obscure, when men so nobh' born Will talk thus basely. Tell me, Menelaus — For 'twas thy first assertion — didst thou bring Or came he hither by himself alone Conducted? Whence is thy ccmimand o'er him. O'er these his followers ? Who gave thee power ? Who gave thee rights Thou mayst be Sparta's kii)g, I No more to thee than thou wert bound to Ajax : Thyself no general, but to others here Subjected ; therefore, lord it Avhere thou mayst — Command thy slaves ; go, threaten and chastise them. And of thy brother, for I heed thee not. He sailed not here to quarrel for the wife Of Menelaus, like a hireling slave, But to fulfil the strictly-binding oath Which he had sworn ; he did not come for thee, For he despised so poor a cause ; he came With all his heralds and a numerous train, And brought his captains too. llemember, therefore, Thy clamours ne'er shall turn me from my purpose Whilst thou art what thou art. Menelaus a tongue like thine But ill becomes thy state : 'tis most unseemly. Teucer a keen reproach, with justice on its side, Is always grating. ]\Ien. This proud archer here Talks loudly. Teucer 'Tis no mean illiberal art. ;Men. If thou couldst bear a shield, how insolent And haughty wouldst thou be, when naked, thus, Thou boast'st thy valour! Teucer Naked as I am 1 should not fly from thee with all thy arms. Menelaus Thy tongue but speaks thy pride. Teucer I should be proud When I am just. Menelaus Doth justice bid me love Him who destroyed me ? Teucer Art thou then destroyed? That's strange indeed, living and dead at once. Menelaus For him I had been so : the gods preserved me. Teucer Do not dishonour then the powers divine That saved thee. Menelaus Do I violate their laws ? Teucer If thou forbidst the burial of the dead Thou dost ofi'end the gods. INIen. He was my foe, And therefore I forbid it. Teucer Art thou sure Menelaus I am ; Our hate was mutual, and thou knowst the cause, Teucer Because thou wert corrupted, thy false voice Condemned him. Menelaus 'Twas the judges' fault, not mine. Teucer Thus mayst thou screen a thousand injuries. Menelaus Some one may suffer for this insolence. Teucer Not more perhaps than others. Menelaus This alone Itemember, buried he sliall never be. Teucer Do thou remember too, I say he shall. Menelaus So have I seen a bold imperious man With froward tongue, before the storm began, Urging the tardy mariner to sail, But when the tempest rose no more was heard The coward's voice, but wrapt beneath his cloak Silent he laid, and suffered every foot To trample on him. Thus it is with thee, And thy foul tongue : forth from a little cloud Soon as the storm shall burst, it will o'erwhelm thee, And stop thy clamours. Teucer I too have beheld A man with folly swollen reproach his friends Oppressed with sore calamity, when straight One came like me, with indignation fired. Saw, and addressed him thus : " Cease, shameless wretch ! Nor thus oppress the dead ; for if thou dost, Remember, thou shalt suffer for thy crime." Thus spoke he to the weak insulting fool ; Methinks I see him here — it must be he, Even Menelaus. Have I guessed aright ? Menelaus 'Tis well ; I'll leave thee. 'Tis a folly thus To talk with those whom we have power to punish. Teucer {Exit. Scene VI. Chorus. Teucer Away ! This babbler is not to be borne. Chorus The contest will grow warm. O Teucer ! haste, Prepare some hollow fosse for the remains By after-ages ne'er to be forgotten. Teucer And lo ! in happy hour this way advancing The wife and son of our unhappy friend, To pay due honours and adorn his tomb. '^K^MKSv^A. KrRYSACES, TeUCER, OhORUS. Teucer Scene VII. Come hither, boy, bend down and touch thy father ; There sit, and, liolding in thy hands this hair And liers and thine, the suppHant's humble treasure, Offer thy pious prayers for thy dead father : If from yon hostile camp the foe should come 'J'o drive thee hence, far from his native land, Whoe'er he be, unburied may he lie. From his whole lace uprooted, torn away, E'en as this hair which here I cut before thee ; Oh ! guard it well, my child ; and you my friends. Behave like men — assist, protect him now, Till I return, and, spite of all our foes, Perform the rites, niid raise a tomb to Ajax. [Eocif. Tecjiessa, Eurysaces, Chorus. When will the happy hour appear, That comes to calm our every fear, From endless toil to bring us sweet repose. To bid our weary wanderings cease. To fold us in the arms of peace. And put the wished-for period to our woes 1 For since the day when first to Troy we came Nought have we known but grief, reproach, and shame. Oh ! that the man, who erst inspired With honud rage, our Grecians fired To slaught'rous deeds, and taught them first to fight, Ere he had learned the dreadful trade, Himself had mingled with the dead, Or scattered wide in air, or sunk in endless night ! For oh ! from war unnumbered e\'ils flow, The unexhausted source of every human woe. By war disturbed, the genial board No longer will its sweets aflbrd ; Their fragrant odoui's round my head The verdant wreaths no longer spread ; Nor music's charms my soul delight, Nor love with rapture crowns the night ; No love, alas ! for me, but grief and care ; For when I think of Troy I still despair, And wet with many a tear my wild dishevelled hair. Nor nightly fear nor hostile dart; But all our pleasures now are o'er, Oh ! could I climb the woody steep That hangs incumbent o'er the deep. From Sunium's cliff by waves for ever beat. Then should my eye the lovely prospect greet, And smile on sacred Athens rising at my feet. Teucer Scene VIII. Strophe I. AntistropJm i. HtropliG 2. Antistrophe 2. ACT V. Scene I. Agamemnon, Chorus. Teucer This way I bent my hasty steps to meet The Grecian chief, who hither comes prepared To vent his keen reproaches. Agamemnon I am told That thou, e'en thou, the sou of a vile slave, * Agamemnon Hast dared to utter foulest calumny Against thy prince, and passed unpunished for it ; Mean as thy birth is, what liad been thy pride And high demeanour had thy mother sprung From noble l)lood ? Barbarian as thou art, How couldst thou praise a wretch, who, lilte thyself, Was nothing ? We, it seems, for thou hast sworn it, Are not the masters or of Greece or thee ; Shall we be thus insulted by our slaves? Who is this boaster ? and what mighty deed Hath he performed which I could not have done ? Is there no hero in the Grecian host Agamemnon In the warm contest for Achilles' arms, If Teucer yet shall question the decree Against the general voice — resisting still, And still reproachful, with delusive arts. Though conquered, yet opposing. ^V^holesome laws Will nought avail if those whom justice deems Superior, to the vanquished must resign. And first in virtue be the last in fame. It must not be. Not always the huge size Of weighty limbs ensures the victory ; Agamemnon They who excel in wisdom are alone Invincible. Thou see'st the brawny ox, How the small whip will drive him through the field : What if the med'cine be applied to thee For thy proud boasting and licentious tongue ? Teucer 'Twill be thy portion soon, unless thou learnst More wisdom ; henceforth, mindful what thou art. Bring with thee one of nobler blood to plead Agamemnon Thy cause ; for know, the language which thou tallest Is barbai'ous, and I understand thee not. Chorus I can but wish that wisdom may attend To guide you both. Teucer Alas ! how very soon Are all the merits of the dead forgotten ! Already lost, e'en by the man for whom Thy life so oft was ventured in the field? But now 'tis past, and buried in oblivion. Thou wordy slanderer ! Canst thou not remember When, biiffled and unequal to the foe, Close pent within the walls our forces lay — Canst thou not call to mind who came alone To your deliverance, when devouring flames Towered o'er our ships, when Hector leaped the fosse And rushed amongst us? Then who fought for Greece? Who drove him back, but Ajax, who, thou sayst, Could never fight ? Did he not fight for you ] He met the noble Hector hand to hand, Unbidden dared the fortune of the field. He scorned the coward's art to fix his lot In the moist earth : fortli from the crested helmet It sprang the first. Such were the deeds of Ajax, And I was witness of them — I, the slave. For so thou call'st me, sprung from a barbarian. How dares a wretch like thee to talk of birth 1 Who was thy grandsire ? Canst thou not remember That old barbarian, Phrygian Pelops, tell me? Who was thy father — Atreus, was he not? That worst of men, who at a brother's table Served up his children — horrible repast ! Thy mother, too, a Cretan and a slave — A vile adultress, whom thy father caught And headlong cast into the sea, Shalt thou Talk then to me of birth — to me, the son Of valiant Telamon, renowned in war. And wedded to a queen, the royal race Of great Laomedon, and fairest gift Of famed Alcides 1 Thus of noble blood From either parent sprung, shall I disgrace The man whom thou, inhuman, wouldst still keep Unburied here 1 Dost thou not blush to think on't ? But, mark me well ! If thou dost cast him forth, Not he alone inglorious on the plain Shall lie — together we will perish all : To die with glory in a brother's cause la better far than fighting for the wife Of AgJimemnou or of Menolaus : For thy own snke, aiul not for mine, remember, If thou provoke me, thou' It be sorry for it, And wish thou'dst rather feared than angered Teu(;er. Ulysses Scene II. Agamemnon, Menelaus, Teucer, Chorus. CiiOR. IJlysses, if thou meanst not to inflame, But to compose this dreadful strife, thou com'st In happiest hour. Ulysses Far ofi" I heard the voice Of the Atride o’er this wretched course ; Whence rose the clamour, friends 1 Menelaus With bitterest words This Teucer here, Ulysses, has reviled me. Ulysses What words 1 For if he heard the same from thee, I blame him not. Agamemnon He did provoke me to it. Ulysses What injury hath he done thee ? Agamemnon He declares The body shall have sepulture, himself And of my power. Ulysses Shall I be free, and speak The truth to thee, without reproach or blame ? Agamemnon Thou mayst ; for well thou knowst I hold Ulysses Of all the Greeks my best and dearest friend. Ulysses Then hear me. By the gods I must entreat thee. Do not, remorseless and inhuman, east The body forth unburied, nor permit Authority to trample thus on justice. E'er since our contest for Achilles' arms To use him basely. E'en Ulysses owns, Of all the Grecian chiefs who came from Troy Do not deny him, then, the honours due To worth so great ; for know, it were a crime Not against him alone, but 'gainst the gods — A violation of the laws divine. To hurt the brave and virtuous after death. Even though he lived thy foe, is infamous. Ulysses Yes ; I was his foe Whilst justice would permit me ; but he's dead ; Therefore thou shouldst not triumph nor rejoice With mirth unseemly o'er a vanquished man. Agamemnon 'Tis not so easy for a king to act By honour's strictest rules. Ulysses 'Tis always so To hearken to the counsels of a friend, When he advises well. Agamemnon But know, the good And virtuous still submit to those who rule. Ulysses No more. When thou art vanquished by thy friends, Thou art thyself the conqueror. Agamemnon Still remember For whom thou pleadst, Ulysses. Ulysses For a foe, But for a brave one. Agamemnon Dost thou thus revere E'en after death thine enemy ] Ulysses I do: Virtue is dearer to me than revenge. Agamemnon Such men are most unstable in their ways. Ulysses Our dearest friend may one day be our foe. Agamemnon Dost thou desire such friends? Ulysses I cannot lo^'e Or. praise th' unfeeling heart. Agamemnon This day shall Greece Mark us for cowards. Ulysses Greece will call us just. Agamemnon Wouldst thou persuade me then to grant him burial ? Ulysses I would, and for that purpose canio I hither. AtiA. How every man consults lii.s own advantage, And acts but for himself ! Ulysses And who is he Whom I should wish to serve before Ulysses 1 Agamemnon 'Tis thy own work, remember, and not mine. Ulysses The deed will win thee praise, and evcry^ tongU( Shall call thee good. Agamemnon Thou knowst I'd not refuse Ulysses more, much more than this ; l^ut Ajax Or buried or unburied is the same, And must be hateful still to Agamemnon. But do as it beseems thee best. Chorus Ulysses, The man who says thou art not wise and good Is senseless and unjust. Ulysses I tell thee, Teucer, As once I was his foe : e'en now I mean To join with thee, a fellow-labourer In all the pious offices of love, Nor would omit, what every man should pay, The honours due to sucli exalted virtue ! Teucer O best of men I thou hast my thanks and praise, And well deserv'st them, for thou hast transcended My utmost hopes. 1 little thought the worst Of all his foes among the Grecian host Would thus alone defend, alone protect The dead from insult, when these thundering leaders United came to cast his body forth With infamy ; but may the god who i-ules O'er high Olympus, and the vengeful Furies, Daughters ot J ove, the guilt-rewarding sisters, With all-deciding justice soon repay The hauglity tyrants. For thy ofiered aid, Son of Laertes, in the funeral rites. Perhaps it might offend the honoured shade Of our dead friend — it cannot be accepted. For all beside we thank thee. If thou will'st To send assistance from the Grecian camp, 'Twill bo received ; the rest shall be my care. Thou hast performed the duty of a friend, And we acknowledge it. Ulysses I would have lent My willing aid, but since it must not be, I shall submit. Farewell ! [Exit Ui-ysses. Agamemnon Scene JII. Menelaus, Teuoer, Efrysaces, Chorus. Teucer Thus far is right. The time already past doth chide our sloth : My friends, be vigilant. Let some prepare The hollow fosse, some o'er the sacred flame Place the rich tripod for the funeral bath ; Forth from the camp a chosen band must bear His glittering arms and trophies of the war. Do thou, my child, if thou hast strength, uplift Thy father's body. See, the veins, yet warm, Spout forth with blood. Haste ! Help, assist me, all Who bear the name of friends, and pay with me For never was on earth a better man. Chorus \To EURYSACESc Whate'er of good or ill weak mortals know Must from their best of guides, experience, fl.ow. Seek then no farther ; for to man is given The present state, the future left to Heaven. DRAMATIS PERSONS. non and Glytemnestra. 1'VLA.BES, Frund of Orestes. Governor of Orestes. Clytemnestra Wife to JJ'.gis- thus. Chrysothemts, Sister of Elec- tra. ^GiSTiius, King ofArgos and MycencB. Chorus composed of the j>rin- cipal Ladies of Mycena. Orestes SCENE.— Mycex^, before the Palace o/^gisthus. ACT I. Scene I. Py lades, Governor of Orestes.