Women of Trachis - Sophocles

"There is a saying among men, put forth long ago, that you cannot rightly judge whether a mortal's lot is good or evil before he dies. But I know, even before I have passed to the world of death, that my life is sorrowful and bitter..."
- Deianeira

Heracles opens with Deianeira bemoaning her lot as an unloved and routinely abandoned wife. While Heracles is off completing his labors and winning fame and glory, Deianeira sits at home and thinks about her other suitor, the river-god Achelous. Would her life have been different if she had swallowed her repulsion at the chimerical wooer, constantly changing shape between a bull, a serpent with shiny coils, and a man with the face of an ox...at least he would be a more constant presence. Instead, while Deianeira's praying that she might die rather than have to face a marriage bed with Achelous, along comes the glorious son of Zeus and Alcmena and challenges the dreaded Achelous for her hand.  

What a moment! One second you're thinking "crap...looks like I'm going to marry a water serpent." And the next second along comes the exemplar hero, all rugged and immortal. Yet, for Deianeira, married life did not go as she had planned.

"Since I have been joined to Heracles as his chosen bride fear after fear has haunted me on his account; one night brings trouble, and the next night in turn, drives it out. And then children were born to us, whom he has only seen as the farmer sees his distant field, which he visits at seedtime and once again at harvest. Such was the life that kept him journeying to and fro, in the service of a certain master."

Deianeira is referring,of course, to Eruystheus, who spent twelve years coming up with twelve virtually impossible tasks for Heracles to perform; these tasks being ordained by the priestess of Apollo and when completed would obtain for Heracles immortality. So, Heracles has a lot on his plate and parenting isn't really a priority. And while he runs around, becoming a legend, Deianeira is left to parent, alone and isolated. 

"For Deianeira, as I hear, hath ever an aching heart; she, the battle prize of old, is now like some bird lorn of its mate; she can never lull her yearning nor stay her tears; haunted by a sleepless fear for her absent lord, she pines on her anxious, widowed couch, miserable in her foreboding of mischance."

What Deianeira does not know is that Hera has had it out for Heracles from the beginning. Classic Zeus, had to run around and get beautiful, but mortal Alcmena knocked up. Hera, obviously annoyed by Zeus' constant, exhaustive infidelities decides she will destroy Heracles and she eventually smites him with temporary madness, during which he kills his wife Megara and his three children.  

After Heracles wins the hand of Deianeira, they head back to Tiryns and on their way must cross the river Evenus; at the rivers edge they happen upon the centaur Nessus, who offers to carry Deianeira upon his back. Midway across the river, Nessus gets a little frisky and Deianeira shrieks; Heracles immediately turns and shoots a feathered arrow that had been dipped in the poison of Hydra. In his last breaths the centaur tells Deianeira to gather some of his blood as a potion that would be efficacious in preventing Heracles from loving another woman. Thinking nothing of it and obviously not remembering the ancient proverb: "The gifts of enemies are no gifts and bring no good," Deianeira keeps the potion hidden for the unfortunate day when she may have need of it.

Now, completing his last labor, Heracles has made a pact that if he has not returned in fifteen months he would either be dead or return to uninterrupted peace. The fifteen months are up and Deianeira is anxious and worried not knowing what to expect.

As she ruminates about her luckless, neglected heart, a messenger approaches telling her that none other than Heracles is on his way home! And he is sending along a war bride, princess Iole...this does not bode well for Deianeira. The years have been unkind to her and here, before her, is a fair maiden that Heracles declared war for when he was unable to woo her into being his paramour. Now after conquering her country and killing her father, she has been dragged back to Tiryns to wait for the return of Heracles alongside Deianeira.

Deianeira, distraught, remembers the secret potion, and after quickly dousing one of Heracles' cloaks liberally with the stuff, sends it away with the messenger saying it is a token of her love for Heracles and a gift for his joyous return. Feeling nervous about the potency of the secret concoction, Deianeira oscillates between feeling joy that Heracles is finally, unalterably hers...and a growing unease and foreboding. She cautions the choir "do not act with zeal if you act without light" and waits for her husband to return.

Meanwhile, Heracles, after being given Deianeira's gift he is slowly being suffocated/flayed to death by the poisonous cloak. His only thought is revenge and with each agonizing step he demands that Deianeira be brought to him so that he can embrace her and she too can taste the agony she has wrought. But after hearing that her suspicions were confirmed and that she has essentially murdered her husband, Deianeira kills herself, unable to cope with the misery she has inflicted.

"So I do not know, unlucky me, where to turn my thoughts; I only see that I have done a fearful deed. Why or wherefore should the monster, in his death-throes, have shown good will to me, on whose account he was dying? Impossible! No, he was cajoling me, in order to slay the man who had smitten him; and I know this too late, when it is of no help." 

Like Ajax, impaling himself on the sword of his enemy, Heracles is killed by an enemy of the past, and as he realizes that his death is in accordance with a prophecy, he quickly insists that he be carried up a hill and burned on a pyre. His last demand that his son, Hyllus, marry Iole, his lover and ignorant accomplice to his death. Hyllus complies, only because she is insanely beautiful. As the mortal part of Heracles is burned away, he gains immortality, ascending to Oylmpus, there to be reconciled with Hera and to marry her daughter, the slender-ankled Hebe.

As the play ends, Hyllus chants to the chorus: "No man forsees the future; but the present is fraught with mourning for us, and with shame for the powers above, and verily with anguish beyond compare for him who endures this doom. Maidens, come ye also, nor linger at the house; ye who have lately seen a dread death, with sorrows manifold and strange. In all there is naught but Zeus."

Electra - Sophocles

Electra is super over the top emotional. When we first meet her she is mourning the death of her Father, a good cause for emotions, but she could have used a lecture or two from the Stoics. She's not really the heroine of the play, rather she's more of a lamenting foil, carrying the plot forward with her histrionics.

We learn from Electra's lamenting, that her mother, Clytemnestra murdered Electra's father, Agamemnon, after he returned victorious from the Trojan War with his war bride Casandra.  Clytemnestra murdered them, ostensibly for offering Electra's sister Iphigenia as a sacrifice to the gods to ensure success in battle. Clytemnestra argues it was a just killing:

"Your father - this is your constant pretext - was slain by me. Yes, by me - I know it well; it admits of no denial. For Justice slew him and not I alone, Justice whom it was your part to support if you had been right-minded. This Father of your whom you are ever lamenting was the one man of the Greeks who had the heart to sacrifice your sister to the gods - he the father, who had not shared the mother's pangs."

Electra's rebuttal is that rather than fighting for Justice, Clytemnestra, having taken Agamemnon's cousin as a lover, killed Agamemnon to get him out of the way of her tryst; far from a just killing. Furthermore, she argues, rather than offering Iphigenia of his own volition, Artemis demanded the offering be made in recompense for the life of a stag Agamemnon killed and then foolishly boasted of its slaughter. Who can argue with a god? So while Agamemnon had no choice in the matter, Clytemnestra could have handled matters much differently.

Now for the morally ambiguous part: so while Electra mourns the death of her father, she plots the death of her mother in the same breath, perceiving no moral inconsistencies with this behavior. When she can't convince her sister Chrysothemis to embark with her on a plan to murder her mother and her mother's lover, she wails and moans and wrings her hands anticipating her imminent banishment.

Clytemnestra, having temporarily quieted Electra, proceeds to offer her supplications to the gods. She has had a terrible dream that Agamemnon has returned and planted his scepter in the floor of their house. She has a premonition that her son Orestes, if still alive, will be responsible for her death.  All of a sudden a stranger enters with sad news and an elaborate story about the death of Orestes, (Electra interjects: "I am lost, hapless one, I am undone!" With Clytemnestra quickly shushing her, telling the stranger to continue his story and trying her best not to look too overjoyed.)

The stranger proceeds to tell a stirring account of the chariot race where poor Orestes was trampled. Only there was no chariot race, and Orestes is waiting in the eaves to happily come to his sisters aid and murder their mother, which he does promptly.

Electra: "Orestes, how fare you?"
Orestes: "All is well within the house if Apollo's oracle spoke well.
Electra: "The guilty one is dead?"
Orestes: "Fear no more that your proud mother will ever put you to dishonor."

Very proud of themselves they gleefully plot the murder of their step-father, Aegisthus.  As Aegisthus comes on stage expecting to be met with the body of Orestes he sees a prostrate form covered in a shroud. Electra goads him into removing the covering from the face and instead of the face of Orestes, he sees that of Clytemnestra. Quickly he realizes he has walked into a trap and as he begs to be allowed to speak one final word, his demands fall on hardened and closed ears...

Electra: "In heavens name, brother, do not suffer him to speak further or plead at length! When mortals are in the meshes of fate, how can such respite avail one who is to die? No, slay him forthwith and cast his corpse to the creatures from whom such as he should have burial, far from our sight! To me nothing but this can make amends for the woes of the past."

Ajax - Sophocles

Sophocles (497-406)

After the death of Achilles, his armor was to be given to the worthiest of his successors, presumably Ajax, the king of Salamis and warrior of Agamemnon. Ajax, second only to Achilles in his extraordinary strength was also incommensurately headstrong and arrogant. When Ajax was passed over and instead the coveted coat of arms was bequeathed to Odysseus, Ajax' arrogance was only then surpassed by his hatred for Odysseus. In the Odyssey, when the two meet in Hades, Ajax turns his back refusing to speak or even acknowledge him.

As his hatred festers, Ajax develops a plan that will give him the ultimate satisfaction and somewhat assuage his pride; he will sneak up on Odysseus and the Achaean leaders in the middle of the night and slaughter them all; saving Odysseus and a few others, he will tie them up, drag them back to his tent where they will be shamed and humiliated to his hearts content; a little scourging here and there for good measure. He gleefully embarks on his plan, while unbeknownst to him the gods have had a bit of a tete-a-tete and have a different fate in store for our protagonist.

A messenger describes a conversation Ajax had with his father: "...His father said to him: "My son, seek victory in arms, but seek it always with the help of heaven." Then haughtily and foolishly he answered: "Father, with the help of the gods even a man of nought might win the mastery, but I trust to bring that glory within my grasp even without their aid."

If that wasn't bad enough, while Athena was urging him on in battle he has the audacity to say: " Queen, stand beside the other Greeks; where Ajax stands battle will never break our line."

The hornets nest has been kicked. The gods stand back appalled, none more so than Athena, who takes it upon herself to teach Ajax a lesson or two about fate and mortality.

As Ajax is creeping up on Odysseus and his men, Athena inflicts him with madness, wherewith he mistakes the army's livestock for men and after an expansive slaughtering, he drags his captives back to his tent, a few bulls, shepherd dogs and fleecy prisoners in tow.

Athena, to add further insult to injury, brings Odysseus to witness his rivals insanity, saying: "But I will show you this madness openly, so that when you have seen it you may proclaim it to all the Greeks. Be steadfast and of good courage, not look for evil from the man, for I will turn  the vision of his eyes away and keep them from seeing your face."

Athena finds Ajax sitting amongst the slaughtered animals, and with Odysseus looking on, further taunts him, asking him what he's doing and what is intentions for Odysseus are.

Athena: "...And the son of Laertes- in what plight have you left him? Has he escaped you?"
Ajax: "What, you ask me about that accursed fox?"
Athena: "Yes, about Odysseus, your adversary."
Ajax: "No guest so welcome, lady. He is sitting in the house - in bonds. I do not mean for him to die just yet."
Athena: "What would you do first? What larger advantage would you win?"
Ajax: "First he will be bound to a pillar beneath my roof-"
Athena: "The unlucky man; what will you do to him?"
Ajax: "-and have his back crimsoned with the scourge before he dies."
Athena: "Do not torture the wretch so cruelly."
Ajax: "In all else, Athena, have your will, I say; but his doom shall be no other than this."

After goading him on, they leave Ajax to revile a poor white-footed ram and Athena asks Odysseus, still looking on, if anyone can now doubt the strength of the gods. Odysseus responds with pity for Ajax, because he is "bound fast to a dread doom." He tells Athena that he realizes that "...we are all but phantoms, all we who live, or fleeting shadows."

And then, while the curses have barely left his lips, his arm raised in the act of flogging, Athena grants Ajax his sanity and then, by slow painful steps as he regains his reason, he sees the butchered livestock surrounding him and he cries "Alas the mockery! How I have been shamed!"

Tecmessa: "...Like a southern gale, fierce in its first onset, his rage is abating; and now, in his right mind, he has new pain. To look on self-wrought woes, when no other has had a hand in them - this lays sharp pangs to the soul."

Ajax, now completely humiliated realizes the only option he has left is to kill himself. In a further twist of fate, the sword Hector, a Trojan prince and one of the greatest Trojan warriors, gave him after their duel, in which  neither could outmaneuver the other, resulting in a stalemate and exchanging of gifts...Ajax now props in the earth and impales himself, the rivulets of blood engendering a brood of hyacinths. In his death the Trojans are victorious. As Teucer, Ajax's half brother, uncovers his body he cries "Now do you see how Hector, though dead, was to destroy you at last!" (Hector, who was given Ajax's girdle, was tied to Achilles chariot with it, his corpse being dragged around the walls of Troy...fulfilling the proverb "The gifts of enemies are no gift, and bring no good.")

Teucer: " ...I at least would deem that these things, and all things ever are planned by gods for men..."

Enter Menelaus. He argues that the corpse of Ajax must not be buried, but be left as carrion  for the birds. His fate is the will of the gods and "if we were not able to control him in while he lived, at least we shall rule him in death..." Ajax brought this upon himself is his pride and arrogance against the gods, anyone who boast  of their own strength, set themselves up to be destroyed by a light blow, (see David and Goliath or the Greek victory over the Persians at the Battle of Salamis.)

Menelaus: "...No, where fear is proper let me see fear too established; let us not dream that we can act according to our desires without paying the price in our pains..."  

Finally, Odysseus enters the fray (Teucer for burial, Agamemnon and Menelaus against) and argues that Ajax should be buried with respect.  He cautions Agamemnon: "Do not delight in gains which sully honor, son of Atreus."  Agamemnon argues that Ajax was Odysseus' mortal enemy and that they all would have been scourged to death if Athena hadn't intervened...what right does a man like this have of a decent burial? Should not, as an enemy, he be further humiliated in death? But Odysseus contends that many are friends at one time and enemies the next and for Ajax, "his worth weighs with me more than his enmity."

As the play comes to a close, Odysseus, with further grace, decides not to participate in the burial, giving preference to Ajax's pride and as Teucer prepares a fire for holy ablution the chorus cautions:

"Many things shall mortals learn by seeing; but before he sees no man may read the future or his fate."

It's interesting how much of an emphasis there is on destiny. Men are hardly masters of their fate or captains of their souls ("Invictus," 1875), but rather life is a delicate balance between appeasing the gods and of pursuing honor. Once again, when Ajax is tested against Odysseus, it is Odysseus that not only wins the coat of arms but who also becomes the hero, immortalized for his noble character.

Persians - Aeschylus

Aeschylus (525 BC-456 BC)

September. 480 BC. After a decisive victory against Leonidas' 300 at the Battle of Thermopylae, the Persian army, under King Xerxes, now having conquered most of Greece, floods into Athens razing it to the ground. All that is left of the Greco military contingent is their inconsequentially small navy, and as Xerxes prepares presumably the last amphibious battle of the Second Greco- Persian conflict, he can almost taste the victory and eternal deification.

The play opens with Atossa, King Darius' widow, waking from a nightmare with a premonition, a somewhat strange feeling for the Queen mother of the civilized world to have. Persia's strength and will have been virtually unchallenged as first Darius and now Xerxes have conquered more nations than any other previous empire, yet Atossa worries that the gods will punish them for their arrogance.

As the chorus describes the restless wives and daughters at home, alone in their beds, waiting for their husbands, fathers and sons to return, they too augur an ill sense of foreboding.

Chorus: "But how crafty, the scheme of God! What mere man outleaps it? What human foot jumps fast enough to tear loose from its sudden grip? For with gestures of kindness as bait, Blind Folly fawns a man into her net, nor can he hope to work loose and escape unhurt...(137-149)

Here double beds, bereft of men, are filled with tears, and each wife, who has rushed to war a headstrong spear, is left to spend her gentle elegance, bereft of love, one yoked but alone." (173-181)

Atossa describes her dream to the chorus, which is comprised of old men and regents of Persia. In her dream Xerxes is trying to subdue two women, one robed in Persian luxury, the other in a plain Greek tunic; the Greek woman challenges Xerxes authority and ultimately shatters the yoke she wears and topples Xerxes from his throne, shredding his kingly tunic and shaming him.

The chorus assures her "all shall turn out well"...but an ominous cloud still overshadows Atossa as she waits to hear from the front. And then before Atossa's fears can be fully assuaged, a messenger comes with the terrible news that all is lost.

Messenger: " Listen! cities that people vast Asia, Listen! Persian earth, great harbor of wealth, One stroke, one single stroke, has smashed great prosperity, and Persia's flower is gone, cut down. Bitter, being the first to tell you the bitter news, but need presses me to unroll the full disaster. Persians, our whole expedition is lost." (117-125)

The chorus, not the soothsayers they thought they were, are shocked and quickly despair.

Chorus: "Life stretches long, too long for grey old men who hear of all hope undone..." (131-134)

The messenger then begins to describe the concatenation. Although the Persian fleet greatly outnumbered the Greeks, they were lured into the narrow channel around the island of Salamis, thinking they would create a blockade so the timorous Greek sailors would be surrounded and outflanked, but in the narrow channel, all of a sudden their great numbers became a hindrance and as they were wedged, ship upon ship, the waters became unnavigable and the Persian contingent became sitting ducks, trapped and waiting to be slaughtered.

Messenger: "Then the Greek ships, seizing their chance, swept in circling and struck and overturned our hulls, and saltwater vanished before our eyes - shipwrecks filled it, and drifting corpses. Shores and reefs filled up with our dead and every able ship under Persia's command broke order, scrambling to escape. We might have been tuna or netted fish, for they kept on, spearing and gutting us with splintered oars and bits of wreckage, while moaning and screams drowned out the sea noise till Night's black face closed it all in."

Although the Athenians that had barricaded themselves on the Acropolis had been defeated, the Persians are wary of these Greek gods that seemed to tip the scales of luck and cut the Persian forces down, clearly their own gods have abandoned them.

Atossa and the chorus decide to chant the ghost of Darius up from the grave to get his opinion on the matter at hand. After hearing about his headstrong sons mishandling of the army, and  Xerxes attempt to yoke the Hellespont and close the mighty Bosporos, Darius is convinced the gods have enacted the law of Hybris-āte; a law that in its simplest definition entails the "visitation of God's ferocious punishment on anything that is unduly great, whether physical or mental." (C.J.Herington, Persians, (1981) p. 9)

His response after hearing that the Persian army, victorious under his command, has been destroyed is thus:

"Mankind is bound to suffer, the hurts of being human. Many evils spawned in the sea and many on land, for you who must die. And the longer you live the greater the pain....when a man speeds toward his own ruin, a god gives him help..." (1145-1153)(1203-1209)

As the play ends, Xerxes mourns the loss of his men and the catastrophe that has befallen him.

To an audience of Greeks, this play, written only a few years after these events took place, would have been the ultimate voyeuristic pleasure. What better than to watch a play, from the perspective of your mortal enemy, and have an insiders view into their mental anguish at the news of their empires destruction. The play ends with Xerxes and and chorus weeping, but I presume the audience would be standing on their feet rejoicing in the divine retribution their one stubborn little country exacted.