Sunday, December 8, 2019
AJAX Essay Example For Students
AJAX Essay A monologue from the play by Sophocles NOTE: This monologue is reprinted from Dramas. Sophocles. London: J.M. Dent Sons, 1906. AJAX: Ah, who would have supposed it possibleThe name I bear should ever be attunedTo these misfortunes! Doubly, trebly nowMay I lament; so sore bested am I;Whose father in Ida bore the palm onceFrom the whole host, and went, all-honoured, home;While I, his son, who with no meaner powerInvaded this same tract of Troy, nor lessMyself exhibited of prowess, thus,Being dishonoured by the Argives, perish!And yet this much, truly, I think I know;That if Achilles were alive, to chooseFor his own arms, to whom the prize was due,No other would have snatched it, over me.But now the Atridae have by practice wroughtFor an unscrupled villain, and passed overThe might of this right hand. Had but mine eyesightHad but my counsels swerved not from their aim,Never another cause were theirs to judgeAs they judged mine! Twas the unmastered Power,Joves grim-eyed daughter, that illuded me,There as I stood, raising my hand to smite them,Casting upon me a sick frenzy-fit,So that my hands were reddened with the bloodOf these poor cattle! And they laugh at me;Having escapednot as I meant for them.Yes; if some deity must interfere,The bad will scape the better. As things are,What must I do? whom plainly the Gods hate,Whom the Hellenian host abominate,Whom all Troy loathes, ay and this soil of it!Am I to quit the staith, where lies the fleet,Leave the Atridae in the lurch, and passHomeward, across the ?gean? And what visageShall I display, when I appear beforeMy father, Telamon? How will he endureTo look upon me in his presence, bare,Denied the honours that became to himA crown of glory? That may never be.Then shall I march against the fence of Troy,Fall singly on the foe, on the foe only,Do some good service, and so lastly die?That is the way to please the Atridae, thoughIt is impossible. Some enterpriseMust be sought out, by which to manifestTo my old father that, in heart at least,Not wholly nerveless I descend from him.It is a shame to crave long life, when troublesAllow a man no resp ite. What delightBring days, one with another, setting usForward or backward on our path to death?I would not take the fellow at a giftWho warms himself with unsubstantial hopes;But bravely to live on, or bravely end,Is due to gentle breeding. I have said.
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