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第8章

Yet such the woe which the dread child of Zeus, Pallas, has gendered for Odysseus' sake.

CHORUS (chanting)

Doubtless the much-enduring hero in his dark spy's soul exults mockingly, And laughs with mighty laughter at these agonies Of a frenzied spirit. Shame! Shame!

Sharers in glee at the tale are the royal Atreidae.

TECMESSA

Well, let them mock and glory in his ruin.

Perchance, though while he lived they wished not for him, They yet shall wail him dead, when the spear fails them.

Men of ill judgment oft ignore the good That lies within their hands, till they have lost it.

More to their grief he died than to their joy, And to his own content. All his desire He now has won, that death for which he longed.

Why then should they deride him? 'Tis the gods Must answer for his death, not these men, no.

Then let Odysseus mock him with empty taunts.

Ajax is no more with them; but has gone, Leaving to me despair and lamentation.

TEUCER (from without)

Alas, woe, woe!

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

Keep silence! Is it Teucer's voice I hear Lifting a dirge over this tragic sight?

(TEUCER enters.)

TEUCER

O brother Ajax, to mine eyes most dear, Can it be thou hast fared as rumour tells?

LEADER

Yes, he is dead, Teucer: of that be sure.

TEUCER

Alas, how then can I endure my fate!

LEADER

Since thus it is...

TEUCER

O wretched, wretched me!

LEADER

Thou hast cause to moan.

TEUCER

O swift and cruel woe!

LEADER

Too cruel, Teucer!

TEUCER

Woe is me! But say-

His child-where shall I find him? Tell me where.

LEADER

Alone within the tent.

TEUCER (to TECMESSA)

Then with all speed Go, bring him thither, lest some foe should snatch him Like a whelp from a lioness bereaved.

Away! See it done quickly! All men are wont To insult over the dead, once they lie low.

(TECMESSA departs.)

LEADER

Yes, Teucer, while he lived, did he not charge thee To guard his son from harm, as now thou dost?

TEUCER

O sight most grievous to me of all sights That ever I have looked on with my eyes!

And hatefullest of all paths to my soul This path that now has led me to thy side, O dearest Ajax, when I heard thy fate, While seeking thee I tracked thy footsteps out.

For a swift rumour, as from some god, ran Through the Greek host that thou wast dead and gone.

While yet far off I heard it, and groaned deep In anguish; now I see, and my life dies.

Ay me!

Uncover. Let me behold woe's very worst.

(The cover is lifted from the body.)

O ghastly sight! victim of ruthless courage!

What miseries hast thou dying sown for me!

Whither, among what people, shall I go, Who in thy troubles failed to give thee succour?

Oh doubtless Telamon, thy sire and mine, With kind and gracious face is like to greet me, Returned without thee: how else?-he who is wont Even at good news to smile none the sweeter.

What will he keep back? What taunt not hurl forth Against the bastard of a spear-won slave, Him who through craven cowardice betrayed Thee, beloved Ajax-or by guile, that so I might inherit thy kingdom and thy house.

So will he speak, a passionate man, grown peevish In old age, quick to wrath without a cause.

Then shall I be cast off, a banished man, Proclaimed no more a freeman but a slave.

Such is the home that waits me; while at Troy My foes are many, my well-wishers few.

All this will be my portion through thy death.

Ah me, what shall I do? How draw thee, brother, From this fell sword, on whose bright murderous point Thou hast breathed out thy soul? See how at last Hector, though dead, was fated to destroy thee!

Consider, I pray, the doom of these two men.

Hector, with that same girdle Ajax gave him Was lashed fast to Achilles' chariot rail And mangled till he had gasped forth his life.

And 'twas from him that Ajax had this gift, The blade by which he perished and lies dead.

Was it not some Erinys forged this sword, And Hades the grim craftsman wrought that girdle?

I at least would maintain that the gods plan These things and all things ever for mankind.

But whosoever's judgment likes not this, Let him uphold his doctrine as I mine.

LEADER

Speak no more, but take counsel how to inter Our dear lord, and what now it were best to say:

For 'tis a foe I see. Perchance he comes To mock our misery, villain that he is.

TEUCER

What chieftain of the host do you behold?

LEADER

Menelaus, for whose sake we voyaged hither.

TEUCER

'Tis he. I know him well, now he is near.

(MENELAUS enters with his retinue.)

MENELAUS

You, Sir, I warn you, raise not yonder corpse For burial, but leave it as it lies.

TEUCER

For what cause do you waste such swelling words?

MENELAUS

'Tis my will, and his will who rules the host.

TEUCER

Let us know then what pretext you allege.

MENELAUS

We hoped that we had brought this man from home To be a friend and champion for the Greeks:

But a worse than Phrygian foe on trial we found him.

Devising death for the whole host, by night He sallied forth against us, armed for slaughter.

And had not some god baffled this exploit, Ours would have been the lot which now is his:

While we lay slain by a most shameful doom, He would have still been living. But his outrage, Foiled by a god, has fallen on sheep and herds.

Wherefore there lives no man so powerful That he shall lay this corpse beneath a tomb;But cast forth somewhere upon the yellow sands It shall become food for the sea-shore birds.

Then lift not up your voice in threatening fury.

If while he lived we could not master him, Yet in death will we rule him, in your despite, Guiding him with our hands, since in his life At no time would he hearken to my words.

Yet 'tis a sign of wickedness, when a subject Deigns not to obey those placed in power above him.

For never can the laws be prosperously Stablished in cities where awe is not found;Nor may a camp be providently ruled Without the shield of dread and reverence.

Yea, though a man be grown to mighty bulk, Let him look lest some slight mischance o'erthrow him.

He with whom awe and reverence abide, Doubt not, will flourish in security.

But where outrage and licence are not checked, Be sure that state, though sped by prosperous winds, Some day at last will founder in deep seas.

Yes, fear should be established in due season.

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