Oh, how I wish I could shake my Lord Agamemnon’s hand! Hold it deep into mine… when he returns! 35Īs for all the… other things, I am saying nothing! A huge cow is standing on my tongue… To me, that torch out there is like the fall of sixes in a game of dice. Give them a good start because, you see, I consider the luck of my masters to be my luck as well. I’ll be the first to hop into the celebration dance. Get her up out of bed immediately and get her to raise shouts of laughter in the whole palace and she can give thanks to this torch… that is, if it really does signal the fall of Troy! I’ll shout as loudly as I can to raise Agamemnon’s wife. You bring with you a million celebrations of good luck for the Argives! 25 Welcome, welcome torch of the night! Your light shines like a fulsome, glorious day! And how could it? Fear is my constant companion and Fear, well, Fear won’t let Sleep come anywhere near me to shut my eyelids tight enough for the dreams to venture out inside my skull.įinally the light becomes bright enough to light up the whole stage at which time he is shocked, turns and nearly falls off the roof with excitement.Īha! Finally! There’s the end of them! That’s it! That’s the torch of the night I’ve been waiting for. He is looking towards the audience when he’s talking and so does not notice the torch light moving across the stage behind him. (He begins to hum nervously again for a moment, then gets up and moves about in his restricted space, perhaps suddenly precariously slipping)Īnd whenever this shapeless bed of mine, waterlogged as it is with the morning’s dew, whenever this bed rejects me and scorns me with my need for sleep, when it does that, I usually try to remedy the situation with a bit of singing but then, when I do that, a bitter taste comes into my mouth, takes control in there and stuffs it full of mournful songs, songs about the suffering of this palace, a palace which no longer rules as virtuously as it used to. (Indicates inside the palace) These are the orders of a tough woman, a woman whose heart is like a man’s heart, a heart that’s full of… (knowingly) full of manly hopes. It’ll be the light of a torch a light that will announce the certain fall Troy. Every single one of them! All those masters of the sky that light it all up and sparkle from on high, as well as all the smaller stars, those that, by their rising and their setting, bring to us mortals, our summers and winters. I can tell you for certain: I’m now thoroughly and totally acquainted with all the constellations of the stars. Oh, yes, it’s been a whole year since I’ve been put up here, on the roof of the palace of the race of Atreus… flat on my paws, like a dog, gazing far into the distance. Then, indicating the sky:)įor a whole year now I’ve been asking the gods to release me from this here torment. Watchman (Turns to speak to the audience. When the Watchman speaks, he happily displays his love and loyalty for Agamemnon and his utter disdain for Clytaemestra. On the side facing the audience is engraved the word “ΑΠΟΛΛΩΝ” (APOLLO) In front of the palace is an altar with ivy wrapped all around it. On the palace walls, on either side of the gate hang a pair of double axes tied crosswise. Intermittently, he utters sounds of pain and discomfort and he rubs and scratches his legs, bum, elbows, neck, etc. He speaks to us but most of the time he has his back to us.īeneath him is the centre gate to the palace and in front of it, are three small altars with ivy growing around them.When he is not talking, he is staring hard into the dark distance.Īt first he is resting on his elbows but then, when he tires of this, changes positions gently and quietly, lest he wakes up the sleeping palace. He is the Watchman and he is lying on a mattress of straw. The night progresses slowly and as Dawn nears we eventually see the man clearly. ![]() He is humming so as to stay awake as well as to keep unwanted animals or spirits away. The humming is interspersed with trembling noises of fear. We are surprised by the fact that though we see no one on the stage we hear, somewhere in the depths of darkness, the solitary voice of a man humming nervously to himself – an awkward, tentative tune, full of fear and foreboding. Various attendant soldiers to Agamemnon and Aigisthus ![]() Under no circumstances should any of this work be used as part of a collage, which includes the work of other writers or translators. For use by any theatrical, educational or cinematic organisation, however, including a non-commercial one, permission must be sought. This work may be freely reproduced, stored and transmitted, electronically or otherwise, for any non-commercial purpose. Translated by George Theodoridis © Copyright 2005, all rights reserved - Bacchicstage ‘Aeschylus’ - "Greek Dramas" (p41, 1900): Internet Archive Book Images
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