Yeah, I thought 'what the hell, I'll post this.'
Now, be forewarned, most of you will not want to read this - don't even bother. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if not one does because a.) it's not a typical sort of thing, and will probably come across as tedious and b.) it's still a tad incomplete. But finished or not doesn't really matter. This isn't something that could ever be publishable, and was only ever done for my own interest.
In fact, Legend of the Past read an earlier version of this, and we came into conflict due to his claiming it boring - I maintained tedious style or not, it served a specific purpose, and that's what this is. As such, his comment was warranted. I am basically attempting to write a tragedy in the style of the Greek tragedies I have read... that is, the English translations. To write it in Greek would be a measure more difficult, though I am seriously considering eventually translating it into that language at the end... it does, however, require a far stronger understanding of Greek than I currently possess. And not only the language, but the style and dialects that were used (ie. dialogues tended to be Attic, but choruses spoke in the Doric dialect), and poetic twists.
So, if anyone has any interest in Greek myth, they might be interested in this. Otherwise, I'd say don't even bother. Even amongst those who know Greek myths, I seriously doubt the majority would know the event this is based around, though in antiquity it had a very important place in the mythic cycles. Essentially, it involves the war of succession between the two sons of Oedipus as they fight over the kingship of Thebes. The event is best-known to us from an obscure and archaic play by Aeschylus called the Seven Against Thebes (though, personally, it's one of my favorites, most everyone else, even amongst Classicists, dislike it), though some less prominent later poets, such as the Roman Statius, also wrote on it (his epic Thebaid, for example.) Ancient epics regarding Thebes did exist, but have long since been lost. And for some reason, this particular story is always left out of the retellings of the Greek myths - if few of you have heard of it, that's no surprise. I first heard about it when reading Hesiod, when he says that those of the Heroic Age died before Troy, and under the seven gates of Thebes...
Anyway, it is my favorite of all Greek myths. Some day I think I'll write a novel retelling of it. But this thing is far shorter and easier (and incomplete). If it comes across as strange, and without much action... a lot of that is borrowed from the style of Aeschylus' Seven Against Thebes, which was similar. Oh, and of course, I'm not telling a story about the siege of Thebes. Greek tragedies don't work like that. They have to be more specific. Here, I'm focussing on one of the attacking heroes, the seer Amphiaraos. His fame spreads a bit beyond this, actually. His name is probably not familiar (wasn't to me before I read the play), but he is in fact one of those to accompany Jason on the Argo, and was on the Calydonian Boar hunt. I've tried to true to the Greek myths, and don't think I've made a mistake anywhere (well, save for the fact that, contrary to what I imply, the Seven heroes were not chosen on the spot... they were their regiment commanders when the armies were first marshalled. This 'choosing' was more a random selection of who gets which gate. I'd misread that, and so wrote this as the choosing of who the captains are, but didn't bother correcting it. It's more dramatic this way, and this sort of changing is definitely allowable by the more austere rules of old Greek tragedy), but I most defintely come across as pedantic now and again. In my defence, it's tough to try and write like someone native to these myths.
All that aside, I must say... stylistically, for word choice and what not, I favour this above all other things I have written in my life.
AMPHIARAOS
CHARACTERS
Amphiaraos, The Righteous Seer
Capaneus, A Hero of Argos
Polyneicies, Exiled King of Thebes
Adrastos, Old King of Argos
Tydeus, A Hero of Argos
Thiodamas, Companion of Amphiaraos
A Chorus of Argive Warriors
SCENE: In the Argive camp a ways from the walls of Thebes. The skene serves to be the Argive palisade and gate.
(Prologue: Amphiaraos laments the situation)
Amphiaraos
I have seen the omens,
those signs of the god I am skilled at reading,
nor turned aside from war’s course.
Am I a man mad, or vain for the glory of the field?
When all of heaven speaks against me,
and proves this endeavour for misborn,
what justification have I for standing here?
Near at hand Thebes of the Seven Gates,
which haughty Etokles holds,
against justice and the oaths of men.
But the man I stand for is no better.
Polyneices, neicies! Breeder of manifold strife!
Was the injury so great that your revenge,
your furious anger,
needed be an equal impiety?
Who before this day has done such a thing,
driven the sword of war inward,
against his own people and his own gods?
(Parados: The Chorus reflects on the war and its causes)
(First Episode: dialogue between Amphiaraos and the Chorus; dialogue between Amphiaraos, Capaneus, and Tydeus)
(Enter Capaneus)
Capaneus
Do you still auger against our expedition,
with false omens contrived of impotent gods,
to mask a coward’s heart?
Already I am weary of your babble:
speak again of this Apollo,
and I will try his disfavour against my bronze.
Amphiaraos
The disfavour lies in fortune’s outcome.
I have made my cast,
and will not recall the army with threats of gods.
Capaneus
This you have already done.
Polyneicies sends me here commanding:
silence the prophet, whom the soldiers hear.
If you would lament our goal, this he commands you:
do so only in your inward heart,
and remain in outward purpose undivided,
with the prince Polyneicies, and Tydeus.
Amphiaraos
Sure as I am an Argive, I fight for him;
But as I am a seer, I disdain silence.
Does it befit me to hear the words of the god,
and withhold them from the people?
(...)
Amphiaraos
Generation of bloodshed!
Have you not had enough of war to sate you yet?
Tydeus
Not while the wrongdoers live,
and tyrants withhold power unjustly.
I stand by my dear friend,
to punish his cheating brother,
and avenge myself moreover.
Amphiaraos
Zeus forbid that all men be so driven by vengeance!
Must the Furies be given such a feast?
Revenge is never satiated:
unless mercy tempers it,
it begets more ruin.
Tydeus
Do you again curse this endeavour?
Do you curse justice,
Zeus’ own ordinance?
Amphiaraos
I curse only what the god does,
and bless as does he.
This expedition is wicked,
and rather of ambition than justice.
Tydeus
Then why have you given yourself a part,
being so averse?
Amphiaraos
My wife’s treachery, to begin,
when she sold my life for treacherous gold:
a pretty necklace she desired,
more than the life of her husband.
She, however, has been given her due turn,
punishment by her children
will find her in the next generation.
But also it is where the god drives me,
and to follow fate and persevere,
through all fortune’s strong blows,
and remain in steadfast piety,
is the greatest good.
Capaneus
You trust careless gods too much.
I have never seen a Zeus descend to aid a man,
nor Athene protect a favoured in battle’s work.
All men are subject to impartial chance,
but the strong man may beat it back.
That is my creed!
The deity I follow is a more present one:
I myself, a mind and spirit unbroken,
in no mindless fear of useless gods.
Amphiaraos
For, you, too, I could prophecy, but refrain.
What use to warn a man,
when his spirit is overambitious,
and kindled to inordinate zeal?
Easier I reproach the sea’s onset,
sway the intent of the Thunderer’s temperamental brother!
You will not turn aside your course.
Capaneus
Not if noisy Zeus himself
(or rather the sky’s natural custom)
were to thunder against me.
If the magician piper manned the walls,
and bade the stones again dance his melody,
even then would it not preserve the city.
My shield reminds me of my unswerving course:
to burn the city of Kadmos.
Amphiaraos
Why do the gods make the arrogant so strong?
Or is it in arrogance that mortal might is greatest?
You, Capaneus, are such a man,
and no mortal can overcome you.
But beware the divinity!
Zeus father is swiftly angered,
and abhors the boasting man.
Think now of those who have dared,
insult the gods by their mortal pride.
Tantalos thought the gods for blind,
but they knew his evil.
And was delivered to Tartaros first of men.
And he was near to gods as it is!
Then Sysiphos, who cheated Death,
fearful for a doomed life he dared
capture Thanatos when the divinity came.
(...)
Capaneus
Will you now let me answer,
having yourself spoken so long?
I will tell you how it is at each point.
First Tantalos, if ever he lived,
(...)
Capaneus
Here I am, I have not hidden . . .
Amphiaraos
- but wait!
Capaneus
I’ve not spoken against them in secret . . .
Amphiaraos
- hear me!
Capaneus
But it is under the open sky that I laugh . . .
Amphiaraos
- keep silent!
Capaneus
Why is Zeus so slow to punish me,
if his anger is so great?
Amphiaraos
He delays.
Capaneus
Whatever for?
Amphiaraos
Do I know God’s mind?
Capaneus
That is a dainty excuse,
(...)
Capaneus
Aha, even the seer,
who is possessed of a cowardly spirit,
(...)
(First Stasimon: Choral Ode regarding the arrogant.)
(Second Episode: Amphiaraos predicts all the deaths and the outcome of the lot.)
Chorus
Greetings, Amphiaraos, have you heard the tidings?
Amphiaraos
Not heard, but seen.
Chorus
How so?
You were absent from the assembly,
wandering apart with the god for your companion.
Amphiaraos
He has revealed it all to me,
the outcome of the lot governed by Zeus,
to achieve the destruction of this Achaian host.
At morning’s coming hoar Adrastos,
the good father of his Argive folk,
took his helm and in its upturned hollow,
cast the names of all the foremost fighters in his troop.
First to leap out was the most deserving,
the wicked inventor of this doomed expedition, prince Polyneicies.
Chorus
Even so! What more has the god revealed to you?
Amphiaraos
That he will not achieve his ends,
and his brother’s throne will never be his.
Twice before the gates he will rage,
calling out for his hated brother,
each alike baited by the furious sisters,
dark Tisiphone, and fierce Megaira,
the stygian venom driving them into impious conflict,
its like before unseen by either gods or men.
Thebes’ field will run in their comingled blood!
What novel punishment must Tartaros prepare the two,
when they are reserved a place beside the old sinners,
to the right of Ixion, near to Tantalos?
Perhaps only enchained and doomed endless to endure
the sight of the hated other will punish them to surfeit.
Chorus
Zeus forbid! I do not wish to see my prince,
beloved of good father Adrastos,
so violently destroyed.
Amphiaraos
The gods allow it.
The Furies are given Thebes for their wicked sport.
Chorus
Dark sisters, hated by men and gods both.
Born of kindred strife you revel in violence.
(...)
Amphiaraos
See how Tydeus already raves.
Is his end to be wondered at,
when lust for blood drives him to begin?
He who has slain fifty men of Thebes,
when by the Sphinx’s lair they laid their ambush,
will accomplish more violent things yet.
Before his death, the blood of his killer will pass his lips,
the Aetolian butcher’s final feast.
Little does he care for the laws of men,
less for those of god and nature.
Tydeus, you are a beast, and no man!
You are a lion, insatiate for blood and gore.
Listen!
The bells upon his great shield peal,
and stun to torpor the sons of Thebes,
threatening heaven with bloody discord.
Adrastos, forgive Apollo, who gave you such a son-in-law!
(...)
Chorus
And who then next - I see the name already upon your lips!
Amphiaraos
Young Parthenopaus, unused to war,
a boy thinking to play at the sport of men,
impelled by the zealous fervour of a young heart.
Zeus be merciful! Do not hear his boasts!
They are the reckless cries of a child,
heedless of what he does,
he speaks only things learned from the wicked.
Better that his arrows had still sought the fleet deer,
in the forests of his home.
It is youthful fervour that betrays his life,
A tempestuous young spirit that drives him
to lead rustic squadrons to Dirce’s bank.The Arcady boy left his accustomed haunts,
bare of their beloved son, and she,
his famous mother who dared the dread boar,
will weep before her mistress Hekate.
This is not riddle that needs wisdom to discern:
the boy will die a victim to Ares,
because he favoured the foreign sport of war,
to the familiar art of the hunt.
Chorus
How is to be his death?
Amphiaraos
As the god wills - I will let no rumour of it touch his ears.
Let him die benighted, to a sudden death.
That much grace should be his.
Better that no fearful prophecy dim his young valour.
Chorus
By Zeus and Apollo, I shall not tell it!
But who is next, fifth in the lot?
So far you have spoken well and properly.
Surely none whom God hates, nor anyone wicked,
would be granted this knowledge.
Amphiaraos, we revere you as a beloved of the captain Apollo.
Whatever it is you have in mind,
speak and we will not doubt a whit.
Truth is given to you,
a rare gift to miserable men,
and to not listen would be foolish.
Amphiaraos
Now the next lot I will tell,
I know it, too, he who is fifth:
The giant Mycenean, Hippomedon,
whose fortune is also death.
Chorus
Does Apollo always speak so darkly,
ever evil, never of good?
Amphiaraos
Most often, for what need men be told of good times?
It is the evil we ask about,
the dark futures that we are insatiate to uncover.
When trouble abounds, then only we seek the gods,
thinking to find hope in (itinerant) faith.
But most often it is ruin that they present.
The faith that is disdained in good times,
is a rotten crutch in the bad.
Chorus
It is true: men are rarely by nature pious,
and fear must be the gods’ goad.
Little wonder that we must suffer,
if only to learn that we are ruled.
Tell me, then, how will this man die?
Who is to be his killer?
Amphiaraos
The sacred river of Thebes will rise against him,
whom he chokes with the gore of his prowess.
The mortal cannot combat the divinity,
and the hero will be overcome.
Chorus
Will you not then warn him to avoid
the ill-fortuned stream?
Amphiaraos
What for?
He will find it, the gods will assure.
How can a man who is mortal escape Fortune’s snares?
If Hippomedon wishes, let him evade,
take another gate in exchange.
But war ranges far afield,
and I think that if he begins on the left,
soon he will drive his team to the right,
and find at all points the ominous stream.
Destiny is not man’s to oppose.
(...)
Amphiaraos
Old Adrastos, unbowed by age.
What griefs these sons of his have given to his house,
he who dowered them with wives and thrones!
But he remains a righteous man,
weeping in his inward heart, counsel against war,
but strong with age’s iron temper.
He will not die; he must flee, nor be held a coward,
when the Achaian battalions are broken,
and dragon-born Thebes is shown secure.
Chorus
Here is joy: Apollo will preserve our reverend father!
The stalwart mast of our people will not be cut,
Like a hale oak, he will remain.
Though the leaves whither and perish,
he will be the preserver of Argos.
Amphiaraos
It is so - the righteous king will be spared.
He who spoke against the war go unpunished,
and live still to see another generation,
sure destruction to the Theban people.
Chorus
Tell me, if you know, who is chosen last?
To whom does the final battalion fall?
Amphiaraos
That is I myself,
last to lead Achaian squadrons.
Chorus
How rightly you tell it!
Surely Apollo is within you,
his unerring prophet.
But having told ruin of the others,
what do you claim for yourself?
The good favour, or the bad?
Amphiaraos
I, too, am apportioned a lot with those men,
to stand with the wicked to contest evil,
in a battle where there is no right.
Earth cannot bear the strain of this villainy:
two violent brothers driven in hatred,
each to be the other’s death.
Thus will I be received by Aidoneus:
the earth will entomb me in life.
Chorus
Surely Apollo, who favours you above all men,
will save you, and withhold harm.
Amphiaraos
Even he does not have that power,
to contest the Thunderer, his father.
But for a time I will fight in the sun’s own chariot,
and Apollo give me some glory, at least.
I go now to the arming,
Apollo the deity I pray to at noon,
Aidoneus he I shall greet at night.
(...)
(Second Stasimon: Choral Ode to prophecy, good and bad.)
Chorus
Great Titan, benefactor of mankind,
it was you who first gave to men this gift,
to know that
(Third Episode: The messenger returns with news regarding the hero’s death.)
Thiodamas
It is ended; the man is dead.
Chorus
Tell us of the outcome:
we heard the earth shake, and were afraid.
Thiodamas
Fortune contrived a novel death for him,
taken into the womb of the earth still living,
denying the fire and beasts alike.
Charon will stand amazed that his conveyance went unneeded;
The Hound be still in wonder that his watch has failed;
Aidoneus marvel at the fortune of the righteous.
But can Acheron chain such a man?
He was destroyed by Zeus, but for what cause?
He was beloved of the Olympian ranks.
Chorus
Speak clearly, not so near riddling.
Thiodamas
I will tell each thing as I saw it.
(...)
But charging full gallop, he prayed to his God,
‘O Captain of Sevens, you who see all,
take here me long due you, willing servant in death.’
And did not slacken the reigns in his chariot,
but grasped them himself.
For all at once, as I think it was,
the driver was shown himself to be the God,
and dismounting left the axle lightened.
But fearful hour, did the man know what was to come,
the bound broken twixt heaven and hell?
I think he did, but was a man dauntless in faith.
(...)
Capaneus
I have heard the news afield,
While I was ravaging the Theban squadrons.
Is it then true that the miserable complainer is dead,
or does rumour trick me with false delight?
Chorus
O Capaneus, do not speak badly of those dead.
Good Amphiaraos has living died,
and Argos is bereft of her foremost captain.
If you rejoice in this, you wish us ill,
and are no true friend to Argos.
Why, what hope have we now,
that our bulwark has been swarmed over?
To me it seems as if a rout,
as though the Tyrian forces already chase us,
unarmoured, undefended, lacking Amphiaraos.
Capaneus
You worry to no und, but will see:
piety only holds a man back from what he might achieve.
You say he was your one defender?
In that you speak badly of the others,
and me moreover.
Chorus
Sir, may I speak my heart, openly?
Capaneus
Do, but I do not think it will be to my liking.
Chorus
I would rather you be dead,
and Tydeus for all his warcraft alongside,
than see Amphiaraos no more.
(...)
(Third Stasimon: Choral Ode reflecting on how good men die.)
Chorus
Death, you are harshest of the gods.
Always you take away our best and most noble sons,
those whom mothers named blessed,
with never a fault against their names.
Why must the righteous always be the first to fall?
Is the god sparing their sight of greater crimes,
allowing this gift: that the spirit that was pious
be given over to Aidoneus with pure eyes?
Or is he impartial in judgement,
casting the lots of all equally without regard,
judge for whom no earthly virtue bears merit?
Or is his nature altogether capricious,
(...)
(Fourth Episode: Thiodamas brings news of the apotheosis of Amphiaraos)
Thiodamas
Listen to me, Achaian squadrons,
if any now remain who care for divine omens.
He has come to me, in aspect like a god:
silver fillets crowned his brow and an unblemished staff in hand;
his orbs shone like Apollo’s own.
And he commanded me strongly, in prophetic words,
to strike a careless Theban camp under night’s cover,
Success in this at least is granted,
even if the war’s whole is ill-fortuned.
So he spoke, telling at all points how to proceed,
with many favourable promises to be accomplished before dawn.
But again he lamented this force,
and above all prince Polyneicies,
who drives it against Kadmos’ city,
not destined to fall in this generation.
Chorus
Can it be that the man took rank,
with the gods he loved and served?
Thiodamas
I do not doubt it.
For such as he death removes all burden,
(...)
Chorus
If we are given over to evils,
this man suffered first,
who was best of us all.
None surpassed him in war’s work,
and his sight the equal of the Theban.
He has been spared what is to come,
and his feet will not be tainted by an evil field.
Surely here is proof that those of piety,
who have never cursed the gods,
are preserved even in death,
and all suffering is amended.
---------
So... that's all I wrote of it. Not even 400 lines, and a Greek tragedy is, well the shortest are over 1000 lines. So I've got a fair bit left to write. And as you can see by my notes, certain important scenes are not yet written, either. Anyway, this is a sort of continuing side-thought to me. I like it, but it's really only for my own personal pleasure, and the select few who might care about such things. As a play, it's undramatic and, especially by Aristotilian standards, flawed, but it's my best shot at the moment. And it's bloody good practice.
Oh, and it probably sounds really preachy in theme, too, eh? Don't worry, a lot of Greek plays might be seen like that, particularly Sophocles' which often end with this sort of choral wisdom. 'count no man blessed until he has passed the final limit of his life secure from pain' is how the Oedipus Tyrannus ends. I'm following a set style here, and it would be contrary to what I set out to do to loosen it up or to break it. It was done now and again, admittedly (say, Euripides' Orestes), but those are really, really, bad plays. This is stiff and formal, but that's exactly how I wanted it. And preachy. I mean, what's a tragedy, anyway? Where something bad happens? Where someone dies? Hardly. Merely the plays that addressed seriously issues seriously... and not even that, sometimes (say, Euripides' Helen.) The preachiness is because, well, the playwrites of Greece were supposed to be the teachers of the masses. They had no formal religion, no pastors. Priests were not like what we know them to be. They told people the proper times for sacrifices... they didn't moralize. That was the duty of the poets. The priests did not say 'revere the gods', the poets did in the plays. Of course, typically Greek, they didn't mind turning around and at the comedic festival making the most bawdy and lewd fun of those selfsame gods.
So don't worry about the preachiness. Amphiaraos is a very pious character, it's true. But as I've said before, this isn't a very 'good' play, nor is it really complex. It has a lot of similiarity with the ritulalistic Seven Against Thebes, actually. A truely well-crafted play, such as Aristotle would be happy with, would involve a more tragic character in Amphiaraos. Not one who simply knows what will happen, spells it out, and goes to it. But would undergo a sudden understanding, and reversal of fortune. Moreover, it might have been wise to include a lack of judgement on the hero's part. And I know, if I was better at this, there is ample opportunity. Why, the hero seems to cling a bit TOO much to his god Apollo. Maybe that is his downfall? The guy is overly preachy, and stuck up... or at least I could have really made it like that. Seriously, there is a lot more potential there than I made use of, and I know it. Here he is, well, flawless. That's okay, I suppose - Prometheus always acted rightly in Prometheus Bound, too - but doesn't give the power that the Sophoclean type of play instills. Man, I so wish we hadn't lost 90% of the Greek tragedies, because I bet you either Sophocles or Aeschylus wrote some sort of play on this in one of their lost works. But, hey, I'm only 22. I'm going to make a lot of mistakes in writing at this age.
So... heh, did anyone actually read it? I think a few might. Maybe.
