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The Oedipus Cycle: Oedipus Rex/Oedipus at Colonus/Antigone Page 5


  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