Epeisodion 3
ODYSSEUS.
Diomede, hist!—A little sound of armsP. 31, 1. 567 ff., Odysseus and Diomedes.]—Observe how we are left gradually to discover that they have met and killed Dolon. They enter carrying, as far as we can make out, a wolf-skin that looks like his: they had evidently spoken to him, 11. 572, 575: it is his and they have killed him—l. 592 f.
All the Odysseus-Diomedes scenes have something unusual about them, something daring, turbulent, and perhaps lacking in dramatic tact. The silent rush on Hector’s empty tent is hard to parallel. The cruel Athena is Euripidean; but her appearance in the midst of the action is startling, though it may be paralleled from Sophocles’ Ajax. In Euripides Gods are generally kept for the prologue or epilogue, away from the ordinary action. (The vision of Iris and Lyssa in the middle of the Heracles has at least the stage clear of mortals and the Chorus apparently in a kind of dream.) Again the conception of Athena pretending to be Cypris is curious. The disguised Athena is common in the Odyssey, but she does not disguise herself as another goddess. (It is sometimes held that this scene requires four actors, which would be a decisive mark of lateness; but this is not really so. The actor who took Odysseus could easily get round in time to take Paris also—especially if he made his exit at 1. 626, before Athena sees Paris. And the Greek stage had no objection to such doubling.) Lastly, the scene of turmoil between the spies and the Guards is extraordinary in a tragedy, though it would suit well in a pro-satyric play. See Introduction.
565
Clanking . . . or am I full of void alarms?
DIOMEDE.
No. ’Tis some horse tied to the chariot rail
That clanks his chain.—My heart began to fail
A moment, till I heard the horse’s champ.
ODYSSEUS.
Mind—in that shade—the watchers of the camp.
570
DIOMEDE.
I keep in shadow, but I am staring hard.
ODYSSEUS.
Thou know’st the watchword, if we stir some guard?
DIOMEDE.
Phoebus. ’Twas the last sign that Dolon gave.
God! All empty as the grave!
DIOMEDE.
Yet Dolon told us Hector’s couch was made
575
Just here. For none but him I drew this blade.
ODYSSEUS.
What means it? To some ambush is he gone?
DIOMEDE.
Maybe, to work some craft on us at dawn.
ODYSSEUS.
He is hot with courage when he is winning, hot.
DIOMEDE.
What must we do, Odysseus?—He was not
580
Laid where we thought him, and our hopes are lost.
ODYSSEUS.
Back to our own ship-rampart at all cost!
The God who gave him victory saves him still.
We cannot force Fortune against her will.
DIOMEDE.
Could we not find Aeneas? Or the bed
585
Of Paris the accurst, and have his head?
ODYSSEUS.
Go by night searching through these lines of men
For chiefs to kill? ’Twere death and death again.
DIOMEDE.
But to go empty back—what shame ’twill be!—
And not one blow struck home at the enemy!
590
ODYSSEUS.
How not one blow? Did we not baulk and kill
Dolon, their spy, and bear his tokens still?
Dost think the whole camp should be thine to quell?
DIOMEDE.
Good. Now for home! And may the end be well!
ATHENA.
What make ye, from these sleepers thus to part
595
Desponding and with sorrow-wounded heart
If Hector be not granted you to slay
Nor Paris? Little know ye what great stay
Of help is found for Troy. This very night
Rhesus is come; who, if he see the light
600
Of morning, not Achilles nor the rack
Of Ajax’ spear hath power to hold him back,
Ere wall and gate be shattered and inside
Your camp a spear-swept causeway builded wide
To where beached galleys flame above the dead.
Him slay, and all is won. Let Hector’s head
605
Sleep where it lies and draw unvexèd breath;
Another’s work, not thine, is Hector’s death.
ODYSSEUS.
Most high Athena, well I know the sound
Of that immortal voice. ’Tis ever found
My helper in great perils.—Where doth lie
610
Rhesus, mid all this host of Barbary?
ATHENA.
Full near he lies, not mingled with the host
Of Troy, but here beyond the lines—a post
Of quiet till the dawn, that Hector found.
615
And near him, by his Thracian chariot bound,
Two snow-white coursers gleam against the wan
Moon, like the white wing of a river swan.
Their master slain, take these to thine own hearth,
A wondrous spoil; there hides not upon earth
620
A chariot-team of war so swift and fair.
ODYSSEUS.
Say, Diomede, wilt make the men thy share,
Or catch the steeds and leave the fight to me?
DIOMEDE.
I take the killing, thou the stablery:
It needs keen wit and a neat hand. The post
625
A man should take is where he helpeth most.
ATHENA.
Behold, ’tis Paris, hasting there toward
This tent. Methinks he knoweth from the guard
Some noise of prowling Argives hither blown.
DIOMEDE.
Comes he alone or with his guards?
630
Toward Hector’s quarters, as I deem, he plies
His message. He hath heard some tale of spies.
DIOMEDE.
Then he shall be the first dead Trojan!
Beyond the ordainèd end thou canst not go.
Fate hath not willed that Paris by thy deed
635
Shall die; it is another who must bleed
To-night. Therefore be swift!
Shall melt and change in Alexander’s eyes,
Yea, till he dream ’tis Cypris, his delight P. 36, 11. 637 ff., Athena as Cypris.]—It is not clear how this would be represented on the Greek stage, though there is no reason to think there would be any special difficulty. On a modern stage it could be worked as follows:—The Goddess will be behind a gauze, so that she is invisible when only the lights in front of the gauze are lit, but visible when a light goes up behind it. She will first appear with helmet and spear in some hard light; then disappear and be rediscovered in the same place in a softer light, the helmet and spear gone and some emblems of Cypris—say a flower and a dove—in their place. Of course the voice will change too.
The next scene, where the two spies are caught and let go, is clear enough in its general structure; the details must remain conjectural.
And help in need, that meets him in the night,
And soft shall be my words to him I hate.
So speak I; but on whom my spell is set
640
He hears not, sees not, though so near I stand.
PARIS.
Ho, Hector! Brother! General of the land!
Sleepest thou still? We need thy waking sight.
Our guards have marked some prowler of the night,
We know not if a mere thief or a spy.
645
ATHENA.
Have comfort thou! Doth not the Cyprian’s eye
Mark all thy peril and keep watch above
Thy battles? How shall I forget the love
I owe thee, and thy faithful offices?
To crown this day and all its victories,
Lo, I have guided here to Troy a strong
650
Helper, the scion of the Muse of song
And Strymon’s flood, the crownèd stream of Thrace.
PARIS.
Indeed thy love is steadfast, and thy grace
Bounteous to Troy and me. Thou art the joy
And jewel of my days, which I to Troy
Have brought, and made thee hers.—O Cyprian,
655
I heard, not clearly,—’twas some talk that ran
Among the pickets—spies had passed some spot
Close by the camp. The men who saw them not
Talk much, and they who saw, or might have seen,
Can give no sign nor token. It had been
My purpose to find Hector where he lay.
660
ATHENA.
Fear nothing. All is well in Troy’s array.
Hector is gone to help those Thracians sleep.
PARIS.
Thy word doth rule me, Goddess. Yea, so deep
My trust is, that all thought of fear is lost
In comfort, and I turn me to my post.
ATHENA.
Go. And remember that thy fortunes still
665
Are watched by me, and they who do my will
Prosper in all their ways. Aye, thou shalt prove
Ere long, if I can care for those I love.
Back, back, ye twain! Are ye in love with death?
Laertes’ son, thy sword into the sheath!
670
Our golden Thracian gaspeth in his blood;
The steeds are ours; the foe hath understood
And crowds against you. Haste ye! haste to fly,—
Ere yet the lightning falleth, and ye die!
VOICES.
Ha! Ha!—At them! At them! After them! Down
675
with them !—Where are they?
CAPTAIN.
Who is that fellow? Look! That yonder!
A MAN.
Rascal thieves, the sort that crawl
And vex an army in the dark!
CAPTAIN.
Ho, this way! Follow! This way all!
680
A MAN.
I have them! I have caught them!
CAPTAIN
Whence comest thou? What art thou? Say; what captain and what company?
ODYSSEUS
’Tis not for thee to know. This day thou diest for thy knavery!
CAPTAIN.
Stop! Give the watchword quick, before I have thy body on my pike.
ODYSSEUS
Halt every man and have no fear!
685
CAPTAIN.
Come, gather round. Be quick to strike.
685
ODYSSEUS
’Twas thou that killed King Rhesus!
CAPTAIN.
No: ’tis I that kill the man that killed . . .
VOICES.
No more holding back!
ODYSSEUS
What, strike an ally in the field?
CAPTAIN.
Then give the watchword!
CAPTAIN.
Right. Ho, every man hold back his spear!—
Then know’st thou where the men are gone?
ODYSSEUS.
We saw them running, somewhere here.
CAPTAIN.
Off every one upon their track!
690
A MAN.
Or should we rouse the army?
690
To stir the allies in the night and make more panic!