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| Character | Ajax | |
|---|---|---|
| Gender | Male | |
| Age Range(s) | Young Adult (20-35), Adult (36-50) | |
| Type of monologue / Character is | Descriptive, Depressed, Lamenting, Frustrated, Reminiscing life story/Telling a story, Malicious/scheming | |
| Type | Dramatic | |
| Period | Ancient Greek | |
| Genre | Tragedy, Drama | |
| Description | Ajax narrates his misfortune | |
Summary
Towards the end of the Trojan war between Troy and the Greeks, Achilles is killed by the Trojan arrow guided by Apollo. Ajax, considered one of the greatest Greek warriors after Achilles, expects to receive Achille's armor as a prize. The Greek commanders, however, decide to give the armor to Odysseus. Ajax loses his mind over this decision and decides to slay Odysseus and the Greek leaders. Athena, the goddess of war, intervenes and makes Ajax temporarily insane. Ajax mistakes sheep for his intended victims and slays them. Later, he realizes what he has done and feels profound shame. His concubine Tecmessa and his friends try to relieve his grief. He leaves and tells them he is going to bury the sword of Hector, a dead Trojan hero, but instead commits suicide by throwing himself onto the sword.
In this monologue Ajax recounts the story of Achille's armor, his outrage and his insane killing of the sheep. He expresses his grief and shame over what he did.
In this monologue Ajax recounts the story of Achille's armor, his outrage and his insane killing of the sheep. He expresses his grief and shame over what he did.
Written by Administrator
| Excerpt |
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| AJAX Aiai! Who ever would have thought my name Would harmonise so aptly with my woes? For now well may I wail that sound out twice, Yea thrice; such woeful destinies are mine, Whose father from this land of Ida won Fame's noblest guerdon over the whole host, And crowned with praises only sailed back home; But I, his son, who to the self-same Troy Came after him, in might no less than he, Nor rendering meaner service by my deeds, Dishonoured by the Argives perish thus. Yet this methinks I know for truth, were now Achilles living and called on to adjudge As the award of valour his own arms, No man's hand would have grasped them before mine. But now the Atreidae to a scheming knave Have dealt them, thrusting by my valiant deeds. And if these eyes, these wits had not in frenzy Swerved from my purpose, never would they thus Pervert judgment against another man. But the irresistible fierce-eyed goddess, even As I was arming my right hand to slay them, Foiled me, smiting me with a maddening plague, So that I stained my hand butchering these cattle. Thus my foes mock me, escaped beyond my reach, Through no goodwill of mine: but if a god Thwart vengeance, even the base may escape the nobler. And what should I now do, who manifestly To Heaven am hateful; whom the Greeks abhor, Whom every Trojan hates, and this whole land? Shall I desert the beached ships, and abandoning The Atreidae, sail home o'er the Aegean sea? With what face shall I appear before my father Telamon? How will he find heart to look On me, stripped of my championship in war, That mighty crown of fame that once was his? No, that I dare not. Shall I then assault Troy's fortress, and alone against them all Achieve some glorious exploit and then die? No, I might gratify the Atreidae thus. That must not be. Some scheme let me devise Which may prove to my aged sire that I, His son, at least by nature am no coward. For 'tis base for a man to crave long life Who endures never-varying misery. What joy can be in day that follows day, Bringing us close then snatching us from death? As of no worth would I esteem that man Who warms himself with unsubstantial hopes. Nobly to live, or else nobly to die Befits proud birth. There is no more to say. |
