And let shine out, with his white steeds, the Day. Stern tempest-blasts at last sing lullaby
To groaning seas: even the archtyrant, Sleep,
Doth loose his slaves, not hold them chained for ever,
And shall not mankind too learn discipline?
I know, of late experience taught, that him
Who is my foe I must but hate as one
Whom I may yet call Friend: and him who loves
Will I but serve and cherish as a man
Whose love is not abiding. Few be they
Who, reaching Friendship's port, have there found
But, for these things, they shall be well. Go thou, Lady, within, and there pray that the Gods May fill unto the full my heart's desire. And ye, my mates, do unto me with her Like honour: bid young Teucer, if he come, To care for me, but to be your friend still. For where my way leads, thither I shall Do ye my bidding; haply ye may hear, Though now is my dark hour, that I have peace.
Ajax prepares to die
Ὁ μὲν σφαγεὺς ἕστηκεν ᾗ τομώτατος
γένοιτ ̓ ἄν, εἴ τῳ καὶ λογίζεσθαι σχολή, δῶρον μὲν ἀνδρὸς Ἕκτορος, ξένων ἐμοὶ μάλιστα μισηθέντος ἐχθίστου θ ̓ ὁρᾶν. πέπηγε δ ̓ ἐν γῇ πολεμίᾳ τῇ Τρῳάδι, σιδηροβρῶτι θηγάνῃ νεηκονής" ἔπηξα δ ̓ αὐτὸν εὖ περιστείλας ἐγώ, εὐνούστατον τῷδ ̓ ἀνδρὶ διὰ τάχους θανεῖν. οὕτω μὲν εὐσκευοῦμεν· ἐκ δὲ τῶνδέ σὺ πρῶτος, ὦ Ζεῦ, καὶ γὰρ εἰκός, ἄρκεσον. αἰτήσομαι δέ σ ̓ οὐ μακρὸν γέρας λαχεῖν. πέμψον τιν ἡμῖν ἄγγελον, κακὴν φάτιν Τεύκρῳ φέροντα, πρῶτος ὥς με βαστάσῃ πεπτῶτα τῷδε περὶ νεορράντῳ ξίφει,
καὶ μὴ πρὸς ἐχθρῶν του κατοπτευθεὶς πάρος ῥιφθῶ κυσὶν πρόβλητος οἰωνοῖς θ ̓ ἕλωρ. τοσαῦτά σ', ὦ Ζεῦ, προστρέπω καλῶ δ ̓ ἅμα πομπαῖον Ἑρμῆν χθόνιον εὖ με κοιμίσαι, ξὺν ἀσφαδάστῳ καὶ ταχεῖ πηδήματι, πλευρὰν διαρρήξαντα τῷδε φασγάνω. καλῶ δ ̓ ἀρωγοὺς τὰς ἀεί τε παρθένους ἀεί θ ̓ ὁρώσας πάντα τάν βροτοῖς πάθη, σεμνὰς Ερινυς τανύποδας, μαθεῖν ἐμὲ πρὸς τῶν ̓Ατρειδῶν ὡς διόλλυμαι τάλας καί σφας κακοὺς κάκιστα καὶ πανωλέθρους ξυναρπάσειαν, ὥσπερ εἰσορῶσ ̓ ἐμὲ αὐτοσφαγῆ πίπτοντα, τὼς αὐτοσφαγεῖς
O stands my cut-throat fitliest for its work-
Give me but time to think this matter out—
First, as 'tis Hector's gift, of all my friends
Worst foeman, and most hateful to my sight;
Then, as 'tis planted in Troy's hostile soil,
New-whet on whetstone hungry for the steel:
And delicately, with care, I planted it,
With best good will to give me speedy death.
So all is ready, and so, my part being done,
Thou, Zeus, be first to help me, as is fit.
'Tis no great boon of thee that I shall ask :
Send now some messenger and let him bear
The ill-news to Teucer, that no hand ere his
May lift me fallen about this reeking sword:
And let no enemy behold me first
And fling me forth, to dogs and birds a prey.
Zeus, unto thee my prayer is said: but thou,
Hermes, good guide to deathward, give me good
sleep-
With unconvulsive and with sudden bound,
Leaping upon this sword to pierce my heart.
Moreover, I call to aid the virgins ever,
Whose eyes fail never of seeing wrong done on earth,
Far-striding, dread Erinyes-to see
How by the Atreidae, hapless, I am undone :
And with a swift perdition sweep them off,
An evil portion for their evil deeds-
As by this fatal and unnatural hand
They see me die, grant them to perish so,
πρὸς τῶν φιλίστων ἐκγόνων ὀλοίατο.
ἴτ ̓, ὦ ταχεῖαι ποίνιμοί τ' Ερινύες,
γεύεσθε, μὴ φείδεσθε πανδήμου στρατοῦ.
σὺ δ ̓, ὦ τὸν αἰπὸν οὐρανὸν διφρηλατῶν
Ηλιε, πατρῴαν τὴν ἐμὴν ὅταν χθόνα
ἴδῃς, ἐπισχὼν χρυσόνωτον ἡνίαν
ἄγγειλον ἄτας τὰς ἐμὰς μόρον τ' ἐμὸν
γέροντι πατρὶ τῇ τε δυστήνῳ τροφῷ.
ἦ που τάλαινα, τήνδ' ὅταν κλύῃ φάτιν,
ἥσει μέγαν κωκυτὸν ἐν πάσῃ πόλει.
ἀλλ ̓ οὐδὲν ἔργον ταῦτα θρηνεῖσθαι μάτην,
ἀλλ ̓ ἀρκτέον τὸ πρᾶγμα σὺν τάχει τινί.
ὦ Θάνατε Θάνατε, νῦν μ' ἐπίσκεψαι μολών
καίτοι σὲ μὲν κἀκεῖ προσαυδήσω ξυνών
σὲ δ ̓, ὦ φαεννῆς ἡμέρας τὸ νῦν σέλας,
καὶ τὸν διφρευτὴν Ἥλιον προσεννέπω
πανύστατον δὴ κοὔποτ ̓ αὖθις ὕστερον.
ὦ φέγγος, ὦ γῆς ἱερὸν οἰκείας πέδον
Σαλαμῖνος, ὦ πατρῷιν ἑστίας βάθρον,
κλειναί τ' ̓Αθῆναι, καὶ τὸ σύντροφον γένος,
κρηναί τε ποταμοί θ ̓ οἶδε, καὶ τὰ Τρωϊκὰ
πεδία προσαυδῶ, χαίρετ ̓, ὦ τροφῆς ἐμοί·
τοῦθ ̓ ὑμὶν Αἴας τοὔπος ὕστατον θροεῖ.
τὰ δ ̓ ἀλλ ̓ ἐν Ἅιδου τοῖς κάτω μυθήσομαι.
Unnaturally, by their own children slain.
Come, vengeful Furies, swift Erinyes,
Spare not, but glut your will on all the host.
And thou that chariotest the steeps of heaven,
When on my native land falls next thy gaze,
Awhile, O Sun-god, draw thy golden rein,
And tell the old man my father-let him know,
And my sad mother, my sufferings and my death.
Poor soul, I think that, when she hears the tale,
Loud weeping through the city she will send.
But now what use lamenting, all in vain?
Quick as I may, let me begin this deed.
O death, death, death, come now and look on me!
Nay rather for I shall commune there with thee-
This present radiance of the shining day,
Now I invoke, and Helios, charioteer,
Thee, with my latest breath, and never more.
O light, O sacred soil of Salamis
My home, and firm-set hearth of my father's house,
And glorious Athens, and the kindred race,
Founts and these rivers, and ye plains of Troy-
All ye have nursed my life-to all farewell!
His latest word to you thus Ajax speaks:
To ghosts in Hades shall the rest be said.
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