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Dramatic Unity in the Ajax of SophoclesEdward E. Cincoski Loyola University Chicago

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DRAMATIC UNITY IN THE M.,g

OF SOPHOCL:ES

BY

:EDWARD E. CINCOSKI., S . J .

A THE3IS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILlMENT OF

THE REQ,UIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF

MASTER OF ARTS

NOVlMBER

1946



VITA AUCTORIS

Edward Eugene Cincoski, S.J . was born inChicago, I l l inois , February 18, 1918.

He attended Epiphany Parochial School andSt. Ignatius High School in the same city. After

graduating from St. Ignatius in June, 1936, he

spent a year at Loyola University, Chicago. In

September, 1937, he entered the Novitiate of the

Society of Jesus at Milford, Ohio. While a t

Milford from the year 1937 unti l 1941, he wasenrolled a t xavier University, Cincinnati, Ohio.

In August, 1941, he transferred to West BadenCollege of Loyola University and received his de-gree of Bachelor of Arts from Loyola Universityin June, 1942. He was enrolled in the GraduateSchool of Loyola University in January, 1942.



TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I .

I I .

PAGE

INTRODUCTION: STATJ!XENT OF THE PROBLJ!M • • 1

NATURE OF DRAMATIC UNITY • • • • • • • • • 8

I I I . THE AJAX LEGEND AS TRAGIC MATERIAL • • • • 17

IV . THE TRAGIC THEME OF SOPHOCLES • • • • •• 22

V. THE NOTE OF RECONCILIATION • • • • • • • • 29

VI. THE DRAMATIC UNITY IN THE PLA.Y • • • • •• 36

VII . CONCLUSION • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 62

BIBLIOGRAPHY • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 66



CHAPTER I

INTRODUCTION: STATEENT OF THE PROBLm

The Ajax of Sophocles i s a st irring drama in Greek l i teratur

The feats before the walls of Troy of this Salaminian hero, huge,

sturdy, and daring, can thr i l l mind and imagination. St i l l , the

play with a l l i t s interest and movement has a cr i t ical defect: i t

lacks dramatic unity. The Ajax i s an ennobling story but a poor

drama; the poet has penned an artist ic work, but he has tailed in

unified, dramatic effect. These are, fortunately, not the opinio

of a l l the cri t ics , but they are sufficiently representative of t

common opinion of those who attack the Ajax at a vi ta l point.

Such an accusation is serious, and directed, as i t is , again

one of the three great Greek tragedians, demands careful examina-

t ion. This thesis purposes to consider what same scholars have

stated about the unity of the Ajax; in i t will be studied closely

the construction of the play, the use of the Ajax legend by Sopho

cles, and a basis wil l be established whereupon the Ajax can be

judged a unified dramatic production.

Disagreement or divergence of opinion opens up a fert i le f ie

for discussion, and scholars who have treated the Ajax of Sophocl

have manifested a wide variety in their views. One adversary in

1



particular states the case clearly and to the point.

The cri t ical difficulty is that though Ajaxki l ls himself at v. 865, the play goes on toranother 550 verses, verses which are ful l ot

bri l l iant and hard wrangling about his burial,but which are not obviously a necessary con-t inuation ot the story. • • • I t is the normalsort ot tragedy of character, the tragedy ot

Ajax and his v ~ p c s , but to r some reason a dis-proportionate amount £f attention is devotedto the hero• s burial .

2

Capps is not as definite in his criticism as Kitte, but after ana

lysing the play in question he concludes:

This last portion, l ike the close of the I l iadand O d ; i s e ~ , serves as an epilogue to the realplot,ie , to the modern mind, is concludedw1 th the death ot Ajax.2

Obviously Capps considers the incidents after the death ot Ajax a

an anticlimax to the tragic drama, whose plot ends with the death

ot the hero midway through the play. 3

Harry offers a very clear resume of the plot ot the Ajax;' th

adds his comment upon the unity.

The tragedy, from the modern point of view,should end with the suicide. We have becomemore impatient: the rest ot the play seems to

be an anticlimax. Jebb says i t was essentialthat Ajax be buried with due r i te ; but somescholars, especially in Germany, oppose thisview.4

1 H. D. Kitto, Greek Tragedt' Methuen, London, 1939, 118.E. Capps, From Homar toT eocritus, Scribner's, New York, 1901218. - -

The play contains 1420 verses; Ajax dies a t verse 865.

J . E. Harry, Greek Tragedz, Columbia, New York, 1933, I , 102.



3

appears here to be noncommittal; he quotes Jebb, but takes no

with him. Yet, la ter in the same general passage, Harry af-

"we cannot make the past square with the present. n5 · Thus,

he prolongation of the drama did not offend Greek taste in dra-

art , although according to our modern conception of drama,

technique would be considered inferior. Thus, Harry seems to

that the Ajax to the Greek mind and audience possessed dra-

unity.

Croiset in his work on Greek l i terature merely states that

last part of the play is of a larger horizon";6 what comprise

"larger horizon" he fai ls to explain, but goes on with his

commentary on Sophocles. Campbell's short but concise

on Greek tragedy has nothing of moment on the dramatic

of the play. Butcher and Livingstone in their essays on

Greek l i terature, and Greek culture never touch upon a

of this point. · Others, among whom are Symonds,

Tyrrell, and Hamilton, have not le f t in their works any

on the dramatic unity of the Ajax.

Among those who defend the unity of the play, Norwood must be

a prominent place.

Ibid. , 102.~ r o i s e t and M. Croiset, Aa Abridged Historr of Greek Litera-~ ~ t ransl . by G. F. Heffelbower, Macmillan, New York, 1904,

199.



In Ajax the theme is not his death, but hisrehabil i tat ion: the disgrace, the suicide,the veto on his burial, Teucer•s defiance,the persuasions of Odysseus, are a l l abso-lutely necessary. The culminating point is

the dispute about his burial, especiallysince Ajax was one of the Attic "heroes",and the center of a hero's cult was his tomb.This explanation enables us to regard thewhole play as an organic unity.7

4

s stand agrees essential ly with that taken by Bowra, who is very

in asserting that "the las t third of i t (the play) is taken

with a dispute over his (Ajax') body. This seems ungainly t'os, but to the Greeks i t was essential to the story."8 Bowra fur-

asserts that there is apparent "an awkwardness in the struct-

re and a harshness of tone in the quarrel over the dead body. n9

ascribes to the predominance in Sophocles of

he poet over the dramatist in the writing of this play; then, too

adds, Sophocles is inexperienced in combining style with drama

c requirements and "has not yet learned • • • to create a perfec

and ar t is t ic unity. nlO Bowra sees the shortcomings of the

well , but s t i l l he admits the las t part of the Ajax as essen-

to the play.

Rose is defiantly on the side of the unitarians! No mo:lern,

G. Norwood, Greek Tragedy, John w. Luce, Boston, 1928, 136.c. M. Bowra, Ancient Greek Literature, Thornton Butterworth,London, 1933, 94.Ibid. , 94.Ibid. , 94.



5

his estimation, can understand the play unless he "takes the

point of view,nll which he then promptly attempts to analyze

or him "the moral interest of ~ h e second part is high";l2 this

part i s undoubtedly a necessary complement to the dramatic

of the play. And those who cannot see i t , he concludes,

to do with Greek thought.nl3

Haigh is less emphatic in his view; in point of fact , there i

doubt whether he justifies the unity of the play or not.

The construction of the Ajax varies inpoint of merit. In the f i rs t part of the playthe preparation for the crisis is admirablycontrived; ••• But after the death at Ajax,as the scholiast pointed out, there is an endof the tragic interest; and the f inal sceneswith their protracted wrangling over the dis-posal of the body, are frigid by comparison.l4

further states that the concluding dialogues between Menelauand Odysseus are too long; they are interesting in them-

delightful to the audience, effective on the stage, but, u

"they fa l l below the usual level of Sophoclean trage-

. ttl5

A few words wil l suffice to show the position of Jebb, often

the ' fa ther ' of a l l Sophoclean commentators. He i s qui

H. J. Rose, ! Handbook 2! Greek Literature, Dutton, New York,1934, 163.Ibid. , 164.Ibid. , 164.A.E. Haigh, ~ Tragic Drama .Q! :Y!_! Greeks, Clarendon, Oxford,

! ~ ? ; 1 8 8 .. L D ~ u •• 188.



that in the play

• • • both the dramatic treatment and the diction bear the stamp of Sophocles, though some

of the details are not in his happiest vein,

and though the form ot the whole-- a prolongedcontroversy-- makes a somewhat exacting demandon the modern reader.l6

6

further elaboration of this opinion wil l be brought out in the

chapters; i t is sufficient here to note that Jebb holds

o this conviction: the Ajax is a dramatic whole with the interest

n the main plot sustained to the verylas t

verse.The

actionof

he play must be viewed in i ts total i ty; and in that action Sopho-

according to Jebb, "evinces his command over the highest ar t

f the theatre. nl7

What importance can be attached to this problem? For the lov

rs of Sophocles the settlement of the question means a further re

tor the poet and his ar t is t ic abili ty, or a lessening of that

which both ancients and moderns have unanimously pro

Of course, the fame ot Sophocles wil l not stand or fa l

the merits or defects of the Ajax, but a careful study of the

and an explanation ot i t s dramatic unity wil l help to vindica

e claims at a l l the poet 's extant works to true greataess.

Sophocles, !a! Ajax, t ransl . by R. c. Jebb, University Press,Cambridge, 1907, introd. xliv. All subsequent quotations tromthe play will be Jebb's translations.Ibid. , xlv.~ . Symonds, Studies of the Greek Poets, Smith, Elder, London

1877, 210; Haigh, 328.-----



' l

The purpose of this thesis, therefore, wil l be to explain th

dramatic unity of the Ajax. There is no claim put forth that the

AJax is the greatest of Sophocles' extant works; the nobility of

Ajax himself is not the main point of the discussion. We do not

aim to explain merely one scene or speech or sequence of scenes.

The thesis will not discuss Sophocles' stage, his language, his

tragic irony, his use of actors; these topics may be touched, but

only incidentally, in as far as they cast l ight upon the main que

tion: in what way did Sophocles conceive the Ajax as a dramatic

hole? What underlying element can explain the unity of the play

and that alone, we hope to discover.

To establish the dramatic unity of the play, an inquiry into

he nature of dramatic. unity is necessary. Then wil l follow a few

on the Ajax legend i t se l f as apt material for tragedy. Thi

then nnst be used by the author in his own characteristi

to produce the desired effect of tragedy. This naturally in-

a discussion of Sophocles' tragic theme, how his particu

ar genius used the Ajax legend to produce a tragedy. This logic

leads to the las t and main point of the thesis, the dramatic

of the play i tself ' , which will flow f'rom the general princi

of dramatic unity in i tself ' , coupled with the matter and ac-

of' the Ajax legend as employed by Sophocles in his drama.



CHAPTER I I

NATURE OF DRAMATIC UNITY

Greek tragedy was from i ts very beginning an expression of

belief in and reverence tor the gods. Tragedy, according to one

view, "originated in the worship of Dionysus, the deity of wild

vegetation, f rui ts , and especially the vine."l To the Greek i t

always held a deeply religious meaning, a part of the worship of

those deit ies who day by day watched over the fortunes of Athens,

brought forth a plenteous harvest, and preserved the people from

unseen dangers. Greek tragedy as written and presented a t the

City Dionysia made an intense appeal to the Greek mind.

St i l l , this intense appeal of the tragic drama did not arise

solely from the deep religious inst inct of the Greeks. There was

in the construction and presentation of the plays themselves some

thing more immediate, more concrete to hold a Greek audience l i t -

erally spellbound during the fest ival days. Was i t the lyric

oetry that so attracted them? Or was i t the soul-st irring theme

of the plays? Lyric poetry and sublime story were not exclusive

features of the drama; the Greek people had Sappho and Alceus,

1 Norwood, 1.

8



9

and Homer. The tales of Achilles, Patroclus, Diomede, and

well known to them. Certainly, i t wasn't bri l l iant

or lavish stage presentation which attracted the crowds%

t was something'higher, more subtle, more intellectual. I t was

desire tor the dramaticl

Here le t us beware of a misunderstanding. B.y dramatic is no

unusual, sensational, or theatrical; there is nothing 'dra-in the sight of an Antigone being led ott to her death or

t an Oedipus, contrite and remorseful, groping about the stage inis self-inflicted blindness. The Qreek desire for the dramatic

s not a longing for the bombastic and spectacular; i t was a deep

to witness action on the stage, action that would be repre

ot l i te , that would, as Aristotle observes, "present

as doing things."2 This action, this 'doing' again was no

he mechanical function of moving about the boards, gesturing aim

toward the audience and being busy about t r iv ial i t ies . Th

could be called a chapter of l i te , a human experience, a

aspirations and how they are thwarted or fulfi l led. Thus,

Aristotle, Poetics, 1448a 1. 35, t ransl . by w. H. Fyfe, Heinemann, London, 1939. This and a ll subsequent references toAristotle will be taken from Fyfe's translation of the Poetics



10

ction simply resolves i tself into what is called the central ide

of Greek tragedy, "the conflict between free-will and fate ," 3 "wi

nessing the main crisis in some great l i fe ,"

4"a spir i tual strugg

in which each side has a claim upon our sympathy."5 Action thus

implies a conflict , a cris is , a struggle; and in the struggle of

against will , in the gradual evolution of the action toward

i ts ultimata goal, the tragedy attained i t s singleness of purpose

i ts dramatic effect, i t s dramatic unity.

Tragedy, again to use Aristotle 's words,

is not a representation of men but of a pieceof action, of l i fe , of happiness and unhappiness, which come under the head of action, andthe end aimed at is the representation not ofqual i t ies ot character but of some action.6

e type of action, of course, in the tragedy is manifold, depend

ng on the personal desire or outlook of the poet. I t may center

a hero l ike Agamemnon; i t may concern i t se l f with a dynast

f the ancestral l ine of Labdacus; or i t may deal with the for-

of many individuals as the Seven Against Thebes does. The

"does not have unity, as some people think, simply because

R. c. Jebb, Essays ~ A d d r e s s e s , University Press, Cambridge,1907, 8.L. Campbell, A Guide ~ G r e e k Tragedy, Percival, London, 1891,12.

E. Hamilton, The Greek Way, Norton, New York, 1930, 142.Aristotle, 1450a, 11. 19-23.



11

t deals with a single hero.n7 Unity of action comes from single

of purpose: the tragedy portrays a "single piece of action

the whole of i t ;"8 i t is derived further from the consistency

n the portrayal of the action, and the production of a single

always, however, in accord with the general purpose of

to arouse the emotions of pity and fear.

"Action is the essence of the drama,n9 and dramatic unity or

of purpose and effect is concerned principally with ac

The aim of the poet, in presenting a storyupon the stage, is to divest i t of everythingthat is irrelevant and unnecessary, and tof ix the mind of the audience upon a single,

all-absorbing issue•••• In a l l the moretypical tragedies of the Greeks the tendency

is to concentrate the attention, not only onone subject, but on a single portion of thatsubject•••• They confine the attention tor

the most part to one centra0

personage, andto one set of individuals.l

tragedians had a desire for intensity and singleness of im-

rather than for complexity, devious side-plots, and va-

of impression. The Greek tragedian set himself a simple

Ibid. , 145la, 11. 19-20.!bid., 145la, 1. 37.Hi!gh, 333.Ibid. , 338-339.



12

task: to portray a crisis in an ar t is t ic background with a unique

intensity and concentration which held the attention of an Athe-

nian audience to r hours or days a t a tfme. I t was action which

the drama •

Action is the essence· or the drama; th is we know and under-

tand. Yet, we have to push our inquiry another step forward:

is unity or action or dramatic unity, and then, specifically

does the problem or dramatic unity enter into the Ajax or

The action or the drama is nothing else than the plot

or the play, and thus does Aristot le understand the term: " I t is

the plot which represents the action. By ' p lo t ' I mean here the

or the incidents." l l Thus, the question can be put in

manner: how must the incidents be arranged so that the

aotion be unified?

Aristotle realizes that the proper arrangement or incidents

is the f i r s t and most important thing in. tragedy.l2 He then goes

to explain i t s nature.

We have laid i t down that tragedy is a representation or an action tha t is whole and

11 Aristot le , 1450a 11. 4-6.12 Ibid . , 1450b 1. 31.



complete and of a certain ma·gnitude, sincea thing may be a whole and yet have no mag-nitude. A whole is what has a beginningand middle and end. A beginning is thatwhich is not a necessary consequent of anything else, but af ter which something elseexists or happens as a natural result . Anend on the contrary is that which is inevitably or, as a rule, the natural result ofsomething else but from which nothing elsefollows; a middle follows something elseand something follows from i t . Well constructed plots must not t h e r e f ' o r e ~ b e g i n andend at random, but must embody th• formulawe have stated.l3 1

13

we untangle this rather involved Engllsh translation, I thin

can explain Aristotle 's meaning simply. The incidents which

re the comp.onent parts of' the story must be essential to the

This means that each incident, each bit of' action must re

either inevitably or at least probably f'rom what has gone be

"natural result" of' which Aristotle speaks--and must in

he same manner, either inevitably or probably, cause what is to

Unity of' action, therefore, is an essential, causal con-

between the incidents of' the plot to make the story of the

~ story and not a mere series of' episodes. A tragedy is an

whole, not an episodic conglomeration. The dramatist 's

business is to make his story one coherent whole. And f'ur-

to refer once more to the Stagiri te,

n.g,., 1450b 11. 32-43.



• • • the component incidents must be so arranged that i t one ot them be transposed orremoved, the unity ot the whole is dislocatedand 4estroyed. For i t the presence or absence ot a thing makes no visible difference,then i t is not an integral part ot the whole.l4

14

Thus, a "well constructed plot" embodies a piece of action o

truggle, a l l ot whose incidents present a causal relation to the

evolution ot the whole. The Oedipus Rex with i t s inexorable de

cree ot banishment from the city for the one who has brought the

curse upon Thebes presents a unified plot. Oedipus against the

of Teiresias and Jocasta pursues the inquiry into his real

identity, and he finds that he alone has brought the curse upon

he city. Humbled and disgraced because of his crimes, he gouges

ut his eyes and leaves his native land. Here there is a logical

ot events, a causal connection between the beginning, th

decree, the middle, the revelation or Oedipus' true iden

and the end ot the drama, the self-inflicted punishment and

of the king. Such a plot we would call unified, such

does verity the fundamental notion of dramatic unity.

Now we must approach the nuclear problem of the thesis and

specifically what must be done. The dramatic unity of

he AJax must be shown: that is , i t has to be explained how the

of the play trom beginning to end can be regarded as an

4 I b id 1451a 11 !37-42



15

whole. The idea which pervades i t , giving i t unity and

oherence, must be such that the death of Ajax can be viewed, not

s a catastrophe af ter which everything else becomes just a tame

an accretion to the main plot , but rather as a tragic

naturallY leading to the events which follow i t . Thus the

cltmax in the play is reached only in that decision which

the corpse of the hero from dishonor. This idea we shal l

laborate in a future chapter, together with an analysis of the

whereby we hope to show the causal relations between the

incidents of the play. Thus by fusing the conception of

art-- the idea behind the play--with the nature of dra

unity as we have t r ied to outline i t here, we believe that

he dramatic unity of the Ajax will be a demonstrated fact .

A more general comment on the other unit ies of Greek drama i

except in so fa r as they aid to understanding dramat

The so-called unity of time was not originally a law of

tragedy, as the words of Aristotle indicate:

But as for the natural l imit of the action,the longer the better , as far as magnitudegoes, provided i t can a l l be grasped atonce.l5

practical limitation of the magnitude is linked naturally

15 ~ . , 145la 11. 11-14.



the unity of time.

And then as regards length, tragedy tends tofa l l within a single revolution of the sunor slightly to exceed that , whereas epic isunlimited in point or time; and that isanother difference, although originally thepractice was the same in tragedy as in epicpoetry.l6

16

plots of tragedy tend to encompass less than a day, even thoug

of the early plays of Aeschylus--the Persae, Agamemnon, and

to depart from this general practice.

No explici t reference to unity or place is found in the

Aristotle, although i t is Haigh's belief that unity of

is "tacit ly assumed as a necessary condition of theatr ical

I t is , perhaps, very significant to note that

of the 'violat ions ' of the unity of place occurs in the Ajax

f Sophocles, where the scene of the drama shif ts from the camp of

to a deserted sea-shore. These unit ies , therefore, subordi

in importance and practice, have contributed l i t t l e to the

unity of Greek tragedy, unity of action. Upon this the

andspir i t ,

the veryl i fe of tragedy

rests ; upon the causal

between the incidents of the plot rests the art and ski l l

f the tragedian; upon this fact the Ajax of Sophocles shall stand

s a unified drama.

~ . , 1449b 11. 13-18.Haigh, 340, footnote.



18

from the earlier epic and lyric poets, whose themes and tales

were well-known to the ancient Greeks. "From the epic i t (trag

edy) derived i ts legendary subjects, and i t s graceful and majes--

tic picture of the heroic world."2 Under the transforming magic

of the tragedian the drama was born.

The serene and leisurely narrative of theepic was intensified into an action, rapidand concise, and t r a n s a c t e ~ before thevery eyes of the audience.

TheAjax legend was one of the heroic legends "taken from source

la ter than the Il iad, but the conception of the hero, though mod

ified by that later legend, is fundamentally Hameric."4 In the

Iliad Ajax, son of Telamon, has come to Troy from Salamis to aid

the Greeks. His qualities of impetuosity and obstinacy shine ou

in his deeds of valor; he is staunch and steadfast of purpose,

pre-eminent for bravery and prudence, qualities which he retains

as the chief' character in the play. .A scholiast says that "the

story comes from the Cyclic poets. n5 .Another source points to

Pindar, who is thought to have given a peculiar twist to the

6tale; even Aeschylus is mentioned as having made an addition to

2 Haigh, 322.3 Ibid. , 322 •4 Jebb, Sophocles, The Ajax, introd., ix .5 Ibid. , xii .

6 Ibid. , rv.



19

the legend.7

He handled the story in a tr i logy, whose t i t les

alone we possess. Sophocles seems to have assumed Pindar's in ter

pretation about the award of the arms, but for the rest , con-

formed rather closely to the plot as i t is handed down in the

Litt le I l iad. This, a t least , is Professor Jebb's conjecture. 8

Ajax was, therefore, a noble figure, outstanding in charac-

ter . His l i fe and adventures as related in the legends, diversi-

fied as they might be, opened up for Sophocles dramatic possi-bi l i t ies . There was opportunity here to r dramatic presentation.

Ajax' adventures after leaving Troy could be related with an in-

tensity and concentration, with the beauty and art is t ic symmetry

which would produce the desired dramatic effect. This Sophocles

proceeded to do.

The scene of the play is laid before the tent of Ajax on the

plain of Troy. Ajax had been enraged by the action of the Greek

chiefs in awarding to Odysseus instead of to himself the arms of

the dead Achilles. According to the Odyssey the judges in the

contest were "the children of the Trojans and Pallas Athena. n9

St i l l , Sophocles adopts Pindar's change noted above, an account

of the awarding of the arms which was suited "to win sympathy for

7 Ibid. , xvii i .8 Ibid. , xxii i .9 Ibid. , XV.



20

10and in this way the tragic hero appears at the outset as

victim of jealousy and injustice. Ajax determined to slay the

in their sleep, but the goddess Athena struck him with

frenzy, and a l l unknowing, he butchers a flock of sheep and

shepherds. Ajax with a blood-stained s.courge in his hands,

with wild laughter of his triumphs; soon, however, he comes

o his senses. He feels his shame keenly; he withdraws from his

chorus of Salaminian sai lors. He leaves his tender

Tecmessa, and re t i res to a lonely spot by tbe sea. There,

the quiet of the deserted shore, he fal ls upon his sword.

own brother, Teucer, fi l led at the time with strange fore

of coming tragedy, returns too late to save the hapless

He discovers the dead Ajax near the sea. Almost a t once

confronts a defiant Menelaus, who forbids burial to Ajax'

Finally, however, the earnest pleas of Adysseus prevail ,

Agamemnon gives orders that the body be consigned to a grave.

With the Ajax legend Sophocles produced what is probably the

of his extant dramas. 11 The story of this hero is apt

for tragedy; i t contains a l l the necessary elements of

and conflict; i t has dramatic effect; i t leaves the specta

or with a singleness of impression. Ajax, the hero,

Ibid. , xv.1 ROSe, 162.



is a man dowered with nobili ty, sensit iveness, and self-reliance, but ruined by theexcess of these qualit ies. His nobil i ty hadbecome ambition, his sensitiveness morbidity,his self-reliance pride. He offends Heavenby his haughtiness, and is humbled; then,rather than accept his lesson, he shunsdisgrace by suicide.l2

21

The general outline of the Ajax gives just a glimpse of the

Sophocles himself. His tragic conception was not

on the surface; i t was buried in his plays, not to remain

there, a dead, inert thing, but to become the leaven and pulse of

is dramas. A closer study of the general tenor of that tragic

heme wil l be necessary to judge the dramatic unity of the Ajax.

133.



CHAPTER IV

THE TRAGIC THEME OF SOPHOCLES

This chapter must begin with an assumption, a theory, which,

unfortunately, i s not universally held. The study of the Sopho-

clean plays leaves the reader with the firm conviction that the

tragedian had a message to convey to his audience. Behind the

fortunes of Orestes, the pathetic struggle of Antigone, the cries

of an unfortunate Hercules, there l ingers a deeper, more last ingmeaning. There is a definite moral lesson which Sophocles is

trying to teach.

The plays of Sophocles are far from beingmere ar t is t ic studies, devoid of moral im-port. Human nature, to him, has more thana psychological in teres t . The passions andsufferings of mankind are everywhere painted,

not only as they appear in themselves, butalso as they appear in relation to the eternal laws of justice and divine government.The mysterious decrees of destiny are alwaysvisible in the background of the picture;and the actions of mortal men, when seenunder this aspect, acquire Ufwontedgrandeur and impressiveness.

The moral implications of the ' 'unwritten laws" in the Antigone

are quite vivid; the "over-weening pride" of Oedipus remains a

lesson for al l . Livingstone notes that

1 Haigh, 168-169.

22



• • • the agonies and misfortunes • • •are agonies we a ll might conceivably haveto suffer, misfortunes that might possiblybefall ourselves.2

23

Macka11, 3 Norwood, 4 Jebb, 5 and Bowra6 also point out in clear

expressions the deeply moral tone of the Sophoclean drama.

There is a sp i r i t behind a ll the plays, a definite moral under

current which we believe i s a necessary factor in understanding

Sophoclean tragedy. The struggles between heroic characters and

their destiny, the portrayal of sin and i t s retr ibution, the

terrible punishment in store for the impudent and insolent--all

these themes as revealed in the dramas of Sophocles are too fre

quent, too definite to be explained as mere dramatic accidents

or incid.ental afterthoughts inserted into the body of the plays.

Their insistent and constant recurrence in the plays points them

out as something essential to the meaning and understanding of

Sophoclean drama.

Here too there is danger of over-stating the case. The

plays with their deep moral tone have, too, a dramatic interest

which centers about the characters as individualhuman

beings.

2 R. w. Livingstone, The Greek Genius ~ I ts Meaning 12, !!§.,Oxford University Press, London, 1924, 166.

3 J . w. Mackail, L e c t u r e s ~ Greek Poetry, Longmans, London,1926, 155.

4 Norwood, 184.5 R. c. Jebb, ~ G r o w t h ~ Influence£! Classical Greek Poetry

Houghton Mifflin, Boston, 1893, 184.

6 Bowra, 92; 107.



24

The action portrayed is something individual, a contest, a str iv-

ing between man and man, between character and character. Ele

ments of suspense, pathos, conflict are everywhere present;

strains of lyr ical poetry sound the extremes of sorrow and joy

in the dramas. All these elements show the consummate art of

Sophocles; they reveal too the human side of his character, his

interest and sympathy with men who suffer physical and mental

anguish. But they do not seem to touch the core of Sophoclean

tragedy, that deep and profound awe, that sense of the religious

and moral meaning of human l i fe .

Why should there be such an emphasis upon moral issues in

Sophocles' plays? Why should a ll of his dramas be in unison in

sounding that note? I t seems that the outgrowth of drama from

the religious festivals was the fact which set the tone to trage

dy. During Aeschylus' and Sophocles' day tragedy retained i t s

deep meaning; "the drama was an act of worship," 7 as Jebb re

marks; moreover, "ancient drama was connected with religion, was

part of same god's worship, and as such, could be presented only

at the time of his fest ivals ."8 The subject matter, tone, and

style of tragedy reflected the religious nature of i t s beginnings

Dramatic competitions were held during the City Dionysia, the

7 Jebb, Essays, 8.8 R. c. Flickinger, The Greek Theater and I ts Drama, University

of Chicago, Chicag0';-1938, 119. - -



25

supreme rel igious fest ival of the year; how could dramatists,

and tragedians in particular, fa i l to flavor their own production

with their beliefs and convictions about the gods?

Aeschylus set the stage for handling the themes of Greek

tragedy. He borrowed tram the heroic legends, and his successors

followed his example. In Aeschylus tragedy took i t s simplest and

indeed, grandest form. Sophocles adopted the praeternatural out-

look of his predecessor, but his application of i t was somewhat

different. Without losing any of the religious sweep of Aeschylu

Sophocles turned to the study of human character.

The spectator of a Sophoclean tragedy wasinvited to witness the supreme crisis of anindividual destiny, and was possessed a t theoutset with the circumstances of the decisivemoment.9

The relat ion of the character to his destiny or to the crisis por

trayed in the play was the concrete embodiment of the moral back-

ground of the play. Sophocles was not as intense in his portraya

as Aeschylus, but the moral sense of his dramas is clear. Pro-

fessor Symonds has an opinion to the point.

The weakness of the offender is more promi-nent in Sophocles than the vengeance ofthe outraged deity. Thus, although thereis the sternest religious background toa l l the tragedies of Sophocles, our atten-tion is always fixed on the humanity ofhis heroes.lO



26

in their individual crises are l ike Prometheu

Orestes: their struggles are aspects of the all-pervading rule

f Zeus and his supreme power over the actions of men.

Curiously enough this assumption of the predominantly moral

of Sophoclean tragedy runs counter to an assumption of Kitt

i t is necessary to quote here.

I make one basic assumption of which nothing that I have read in or about Greek tragedyhas caused me to doubt the soundness. I t isthat the Greek dramatist was f i r s t and las t anar t is t , and must be cri t icized as such. (Ital:fcsiDine • ) Many Greeks, like many moderns, thoughthe was a moral teacher. No doubt he was, incidentally. Many English schoolmasters assertthat cricket inculcates a l l sorts of moral vi r-tues. No doubt i t does, incidentally; but thewriter on cricket does well to leave this aspectot his 1ubject to the historian ot the BritishEmpire. ~

t i s true that the Greek dramatist was an ar t i s t f i r s t and tore-

who exercised his ski l l with consummate taste and imaginatio

this point there is no disagreement with Professor Kitto. But

should we insis t further that the dramatist 's moral teaching

as merely "incidental" to his work? Moral and ethical teaching,

human values, are so predominant in tragedy, especially in

Sophocles, that i t seems impossible to relegate thei

to a merely "incidental" level. The moral consciousness

t the poet Sophocles is too striking, too all-pervading to admit

Kitto, Preface, v.



28

an excellent one, i f there were a question only of

the dialogue, plot , set t ing, and language of the plays.

factors differ undoubtedly in each play, and well they ough

f the writer desires to keep the interest of his audience. St i l

he uniformity of impression of each of Sophocles' plays, thei r

nature, thei r moral theme, gives them a further unity which

unifying conception in the mind of the playwright. This

wil l not destroy the art is t ic diversity of the plays,

ut i t will explain the patent moral nature of Sophoclean drama.

t wil l be a very potent factor in Sophocles' tragic conception;

t will provide a means whereby we may determine the dramatic unit

f the play we are considering.



CHAPTER V

THE NOTE OF RECONCILIATION

What was the keynote of the moral background of Sophoclean

What supreme real i ty did Sophocles wish to impress upon

is audience? I t was a truth vividly seen and vividly grasped by

Greek dramatist. Various authors have described i t in diver

their comments on the subject can be helpful in under-

the keynote of Sophocles' tragedies as we conceive i t .

say that not one of them t reats the question as fully as we

to t reat i t ; certainly in their comments they do not direc

to the particular difficulty about the dramatic unity of the

Thus their personal opinions may not be in total agreement

mine, but taken as a whole they do show the general trend of

on the problem. Their explanations can prove very en-

R. c. Jebb in one of his many essays gives us his opinion on

genius:

Sophocles lived in the ancestral legends ofGreece otherwise than Aeschylus lived inthem. • • • Sophocles dwelt on their delailswith the intent, calm joy of art is t ic medi-tation; believing their divineness, findingin them a typical reconciliation ( i ta l icsmine) of forces which in real l i fe are never

29



absolutely reconciled--a concord such as themusical instinct of his nature assured himmust be the ultimate law•••• In the dramasof Sophocles, there is perfect unity of moralgovernment; and the development of human mo-

t ives, while i t heightens the interest of theaction, serves to i l lustrate the power of thegods.l

30

At the beginning of a chapter on Sophocles, Hamilton gives us

interesting slant.

Tragic pleasure, Schppenhauer said, is

in the last analysis a matter of acceptance.The great philosopher of gloom was defininga ll tragedy in the ter.ms of one tragedian.His definition applies to Sophocles alone,but i t compresses into a single word thespir i t of the Sophoclean drama.2

Campbell has written that "concentration is the leading note

f Sophoclean art."3 For him Sophocles' plays are pervaded with a

of over-ruling and relentless Providence; "the action of eac

is set in a rigid framework of fatali ty."4 Heroes and hero-

are always under the influence of the gols and Fate.

Haigh seems to catch the underlying spir i t of Sophocles very

Stated in general terms, the aim of Sophocleswas to humanise tragedy, and to bring i t downto a more earthly level from the supernatural

Jebb, Essays, 11-12.Hamilton, 172.Campbell, 211.

~ . , 212.



region in which i t had previously moved••••The nature of man, and his various passionsand struggles, become for the f i r s t time themain object of attention in the tragic drama.5

31

Gilbert Norwood recalls that the Athenian needed no ' local

or exciting technicali t ies on the stage, but only

serenity, profundity, to blend their own

scattered experiences into one noble pictureot l i fe i t se l f , l i fe made beautiful becauseso wonderfully comprehended.6

t would seem here that Sophocles had a breadth of vision in his

an intensive and extensive comprehension which could not bu

a definite impression on the aler t minds of the Greek audi-

In another place, when treating of the Attic drama, Jebb re

that "Sophocles believed not less in the f ixi ty of the divin

but he dwelt on less simple forms of i t s operation."? This

led him to build his tragedies around the laws of the gods,

however, losing sight of the human element.

Hence, his human sympathy on the one side andhis piety on the other conspired to interesthim in character, in the motives and feelingsof men, in the influences which they exert

over each other, and in the effects upon themof the divine discipline. Here he saw thebest hope of resolving the apparent discords.S

Haigh, 141-142.184.

Jebb, Cl. ~ · Poetry, ·184.Ibid. , 184.



32

Mackail i s impressed too with the expanded outlook of Sopho-

tragedy. For him "Attic drama is Sophocles,n9 because that

was a symbol of the l i fe of f i f th century Athens. Sophocles

ar t i s t , a great poet. But behind that poetry there

"an embodiment and interpretation of l ife,nlO which Mackail

on to explain more in deta i l .

The envisagement of l i fe which underliesthe Sophoclean drama is given most sharply inthe morals which Sophocles himself has a ttached to or incorporated in five out of theseven plays. • • • The endless wonderfulnessof l i fe - - i t s splendour and fascination andunfathomable depth ~ f meaning; this is whatSophocles gives us.

Livingstone has some interesting observations on the notes of

and manysidedness of Greek humanism. He is cri t icizing a

humanistic view, comparing i t with the Greeks.

Their l ives and their theory (the moderntheory) of human nature are narrow in a wayin which Greek l i fe and theory were not.There was in the Greeks a certain 'perfec-t ion ' which we do not possess; a certainwidth and completeness in their view ofhuman nature, for want of which our l i tera

ture is limited and provincial; a certainwidth and completeness in their conduct ofl i fe , for w a n ~ of which our l i fe is poorand s t a r v e d . ~

Mackail, 143.Ib id . , 154.Ib id . , 155.Livingstone, 162.



33

width and completeness in their views are exemplified in the

of Sophocles, whose characters and plots had a deep mean

g for the Greek audience.

For they remembered that the figures thatmoved on the stage were reflections of thestruggling humanity to which they themselvesbelonged, in whose weakness and sufferingsthey saw the image of their own, from whoseerrors they dr!! warning, from whose for t i -tude strength. ·

A. Croiset and M. Croiset in their comprehensive history of

l i terature do not fa i l to point out the sal ient characteris

of Sophocles, the tragedian.

He had a charming vivacity, a wide experience of l i fe , and what is better , a sureand prompt intuit ion of moral t ruth, anexquisite appreciation of shades of difference, and a natural delicacy--united to a

feeling for grandeur and a liking for theideal .I4

marks of Sophoclean tragedy show a serious vein of mind, a l l

keeping with the moral background of his plays. Bowra cal ls

poet who continued the work of Aeschylus by portrayin

the stage problems suggested by the relat ion of man with the

nl5

After a careful analysis of a l l the preceding comments is

what last ing impression remains? Authors have been impresse

Ibid. , 171.A. Croiset and M. Croiset, 198.

92.



34

the religious nature of Sophocles' plays. And in these plays,

unifying theme is predominant? I t i s , without doubt, an eth

al theme, the ultimate resolution of a struggle between man and

is destiny. The climactic point of th is struggle has been vari

described in the foregoing quotations; i t has been called

or profundity";+6 Hamilton has named i t a "matter of ac

concord, peace, and t ranquil l i ty represent the pre

tone of Sophoclean drama. The lasting impression seems to

that Sophocles believed in and portrayed an ultimate reconcilia

of a l l the cross-currents that make l i fe a struggle. Sopho

portrayed this idea through the medium of peetry and dramatic

on the stage. He was at the same time a supreme ar-

and a wise teacher. His ideas were clear; though they were

reflecting an undue emphasis on fate and praeternaturals t i l l they impressed the Greek audience of their day.

with consummate intui t ion, pagan though he was, saw l i fe

and completely; he had a deep conviction that a l l of man's

were done under the influence of the powers above. For

there was fate , but not an oppressive fatalism; men could

freely, and often enough their choice meant their doom.

facts , these convictions, these beliefs we see reflected con

in the plots of his plays.

184.

Hamilton, 172.



35

The dramatic action of a play was set in a moral background

f ultimate reconcil iat ion. The dramatic struggle leads to a cr i

is where the hero is faced with a momentous decision. In the

the Grecian maiden is asked to forego her natural duty to

er brother and obey the imperious edict of a civi l , earthly king.

she refuses to do and goes to her doom, l iving incarceration

n a tomb. Creon, however, sees his error, and he becomes a re-

man. But alas! He acquired 'wisdom' too late in l i fe to

id the dead Antigone. Oedipus the King boldly and courageously

forward in his search fo r the cause of the pestilence in

when he sees the finger of the oracle pointing at himself.

e makes what retribution he can for his stubborn pride, gouges

ut his eyes, and spends the res t of his mortal days in the long

of sorrow. Sophocles' characters are human; they must hav

perceptible waves of emotion to rise among the Greek audi-

But behind a l l the action l ies the ultimate reconcil iat ion

f the opposing forces, pointing always toward an equitable solu-

This same theme of reconciliation is necessary to understan

he Ajax, i t s dramatic construction and dramatic unity; from this

of view we shal l now attempt to examine the play.



CHAPTER VI

THE DRAMATIC UNITY IN THE PLAY

Sophocles, we believe, was a man who wrote plays and who

dreamed great dreams; one day he had the greatest dream of his

l i fe . He had an inspiration, a quasi vision, arising from a deep

intellectual conviction that man's l i fe must always be lived in

with divine law and order. Man was not self-suff icien

himself; he had to seek aid from the gods, those 'divine'

who controlled and directed man's actions. In the daily

iving of men's l ives there would be conflicts between human will

d desires and the wil l and desires of the deit ies; yet in the

choice of man, disastrous and dire as i t might be, the gods

their supreme control. Man's shortsighted and stubbor

would be revealed in the "eternal and immutable laws"; his

good and evil , would merit a just and equitable

Sophocles, the dramatist, had seen his fellow tragedian,

develop this all-powerful and all-pervading theme of

He had inculcated i t in a Agamemnon and a Eumenides

compositions which have found a permanent place in the realm of

l i tera ture . Sophocles too "had definite ideas and ideals

36



38

audience a personality in surroundings where his great

and his weaknews could be seen and understood. "One individ

al hero becomes his microcosm; into hima l l

his tragic thinking

is projected."2 'With this fundamental notion in mind, the influ

of the gods upon Ajax, both in his madness and death, and in

he rehabili tat ion of his character after death, we must, les t we

e accused of begging the question, examine the play closely. Ca

ur thesis be just if ied in the clear and vigorous action of the

i tse lf? Does the Ajax portray a struggle whose incidents

an essential, causal relat ion, a natural development, and

is an ultimate reconciliation between the rule of the

and the will of the individual? This is the crucial

The scene of the play is laid in the Greek camp at Troy be

the tent of Ajax. The play opens with action. Odysseus is

cautiously examining footprints near the tent of Ajax. The

Athena appears to him and addresses him. In th is opening

te l l s him that Ajax is in the tent , but asks why

has been trying to find out. Odysseus, though Athena is invis

answers in the direction of her voice that the catt le

Kitto, 142.



41

we see a t the outset of the play the reasons for Ajax' hatred

f the Atreidae and the cause of the hero's madness. Can we sus-

that the sons of Atreus may retal iate hatred for hatred?

not, since this is only Ajax' f i r s t burst of anger agains

he leaders of the host; but as the play progresses and his undyin

is augmented, we can logically be led to expect some count

by the Atreidae.

Tecmessa, captive and wife of Ajax, enters at th is point, and

n a lyr ic dialogue with the chorus she explains that her lord,

affl icted with madness, slew the catt le . The chorus

re much distressed and know that thei r own l ives, as well as

master 's, are in danger. Tecmessa in a vivid speech te l l s

in the middle of the night Ajax had gone forth and returned

sheep and cat t le . Some of these he slaughtered, others he

shouting in his madness that he had infl icted punishmen

Menelaus, and Odysseus. Then, at length, he re-

his reason and asked what i t a l l meant. When told, he

aloud, though in a l l previous time he had always regarded

as a sign of weakness. And now, she prays, he is

in the midst of the slaughtered animals, and she asks

he chorus to try to help him.



42

As the chorus attempts to console Tecmessa, Ajax is heard

crying out from within the tent . He cal ls for his half-brother,

who is absent at the time on a raid. By means of the

ccyclema the inter ior of the tent is now shown, revealing the

in the midst of the blood and gore of the slain animals.

has by this time come back to his right mind and is over

with shame and disgrace at the thought of what he has

He s t i l l curses Odysseus and the sons of Atreus; his hatre

is mounting. But now he adds the hope that he too may Aie. His

attempt to console him. ~ Y grieve when the deed is

recall? These things can never be but as they are."4 They

him to cease his imprecations: "Speak no proud wora; seest

to what a plight thou hast come?"5 The Salaminian

ailors are trying to cal l Ajax back from the road to doom to an

of respect and reverence for the immortal gods. Ajax

begins to soliloquize. He speaks partly to himself, though

n real i ty he is addressing the chorus. The ful l import of his

flashed across his mind; he has disgraced himself, his famil

is father; he can see nothing ahead but shame, i f he l ives; yet

e longs for a chance to redeem his honor.

Ibid. , vv. 377-378.ng . ' vv. 386.



And now what shal l I do; who plainlyam hateful to the gods, abhorred by theGreek host, hated by a l l Troy and a l l theseplains? Shall I forsake the stat ion of theships and leave the Atreidae forlorn, andgo homeward across the Aegean? And whatface shall I show to my father when I come--to Telamon? How will he find heart tolook on me, when I stand before him ungraced--without that meed of valour whereby ~ w o n a gr8at crown of fame? 'Tis notto be endured.

43

Sophocles has brought his hero face to face with the great

of the play: Ajax' action bas made him an enemy of the gods;

is he to placate them?

Here Tecmessa makes a pathetic plea to him to l ive for her

She asks him to think of the insults which will be heaped

her i f he dies, and the hard l i fe will she have to l ive. She

to think of his father and mother and his l i t t l e boy, and

reminds him that her father and mother are dead and that

er only safety l ies with him. Ajax seems to hearken to her words

her his approval and protection, but then cal ls abruptly

r his son. An attendant leads in the l i t t l e boy, Eurysaces, who

back at the sight of his father stained with gore. Ajax wel

his l i t t l e son, dwelling upon his future greatness as a

and then he commands him to be put under the care of

Eriboea, his aged parents, a t his own home in Greece.

~ · , vv. 457-466.



44

asks Teueer to be his guardian, and then beseeches Tecmessa to

the child away. She i s slow to accede to his request; she i

with teartor

Ajax. He promptly informs her: "Nay, thoume over much; knowest thou not that I no longer owe aught

t service to the gods?"7 Ag.ain Ajax spurns the powers from

8and Tecmessa can only reply: "I am afraid, 0 princel"

Tecmessa, at tar uttering th is plaintive cry, ret i res with

Ajax is drawn back into the tent by means of the

and the stage i s set to r the chorus tor their f i r s t

the f i r s t stasimon. In the i r song they recal l the i

absence from the i r native land. They express their distress

t the mental condition of the i r master, and the,r begin to specu

on the sorrow i t will cause his father.

Ajax now reenters, holding in his hand the sword which he ha

received from Hector in an exchange of gif ts . He declares

he will bury i t , for the gif t of an enemy is bound to bring

He says he wil l be discreet and yield to the sons of Atreu

has undergone a change of heart .

For even I , ers t so wondrous firm--yea, asiron hardened in the dipping,--fel t the keenedge of my temper softened by yon woman's

Ibid. , vv. 589-590.

Ibid. ,vs. 593.



words; and I feel the pity of leaving her Swidow with my foes, and the boy an orphan.

45

The tender plea of Tecmessa has taken effect; Ajax apparently is

going to relent in his fir.m resolve. He has been touched by the

of Tecmessa; he does feel pi ty. One need not suppose that

th is change has been abrupt. Ajax i s a hard, rugged, imperious,

d resolute warrior, but not hard of heart; his love for his wif

d his son has been clearly hinted a t previously in the action o

the play. His words now suggest that his pity forbids him to die

his 1!A! design, despite his change of heart, is apparent in

he following words:

But I wil l go to the bathing place and themeadows by the shore, that in purging of my

stains I may flee the heavy anger of thegoddess. Then I will seek out some untrodden

spot, and bury this sword, hatefullest of weapons, in a hole dug where none shall see; •••Therefore henceforth I shal l know how to

yield to the gods and learn to revere theAtreidae.lO

The understanding of Ajax' mood here, according to Professor

Jebb, "must affect the interpretation of the play as a whole."11

This may be t rue, since Jebb in his defense of the dramatic unity

f the play, must determine whether Ajax here was attempting to

eceive his hearers, Tecmessa and the chorus, or merely feigning

Ultimately, after much learned discussion of the point,

9 Ibid. , vv. 650-653.0 Ibid., vv. 654-659; 666-667.

11 IOia. introd. xxxii i .



Ajax passes, then, reconciled to the

gods; and so in a manner suited to that event

which is the real end of the play, his accession to the order of worshipped heroes.l5

47

Against Jebb's interpretation much must be said. Firs t , we

single out Jebb, since he i s the only author among those we have

cited who has a definit.e and ordered interpretat ion of the drama-

ic unity of the play. Kitto simply attacks the play, denies i t s

unity, and then goes on to explain the Ajax as a rather epi

example of tragedy. Most of the other commentators either

present the problem and leave i t unsolved, or follow in out-

the solution presented by Jebb. Thus, when we consider

interpretation, I believe we are considering, at least in

the general opinion of most commentators on the play.

Secondly, we do not wish to deny that Jebb upholds the

unity of the Ajax. We simply ask: why put forward such

subtle and complex argument in defense of the dramatic unity of

he Ajax, when a simpler, more coherent explanation is possible?

words about a coming "purge", about present suffering and

peace, we believe, are not a deliberate deceit of the hero

ut rather an unwarranted interpretation on the part of his

Ibid. , introd. ,x l .



49

shall have the i r revenge! Thus, the death of Ajax culminate

sequence of events and in turn sets the stage for what is to

I t marks a true "middle" point of the tragedy, as under

by Aristotle and quoted in a previous chapter. The death

f Ajax marks the natural conclusion of his madness and hatred;

he death of Ajax opens up, at least with probability, the future

over the dead body. The corpse of Ajax becomes the

ground of the revenge of the sons of Atreus; i t leads in

another intervention of the gods, in the persons of Tec-

Teucer, and in th is way to the f inal and ultimate

of Ajax himself.

The stage presentation of the drama--the death of Ajax at

particular point, even a death somewhat sudden and unexpected

be impugned and crit icized severely; the l a ter wrangling

the burial decree may also be considered poor method. Pos

here is convincing evidence that the Ajax is the earl iest

f the extant plays; certainly i t has i ts minor faul ts and pecu

and these in considerable number and degree. But the

unity, that natural sequence of events, one flowing from

he other, remains intact .



51

f the play. C ~ t a i n l y , our interpretation does not merit con

because i t is derogatory to Ajax' character or because

t imperils the esteem and honor in which the Greek warrior wasamong his fellow citizens1 Rather, the conflict between the

forces of the gods and the human will of Ajax, and the

resignation of the hero to the wil l of the gods shows

he human character of the Greek leader. Then too, the f inal

of the conflict i t se l f , contained in the intense

over the body, part of the intr insic action of the play

to the honor and reverence of Ajax. Thus, any recourse

o the 'hero' cul t of Ajax seems rather superfluous.

When Ajax completes his monologue, his speech of 'decei t ' ,

he sailors, completely 'deceived' by his words, break into a joy

song. They believe that Ajax is out of any danger; they thin

the quarrel between Ajax and the Atreidae i s a thing of the

and that a ll wil l be well.

Now, once again, now, 0 Zeus, can the pure

brightness of good days came to the swiftsea-cleaving ships; since Ajax again forgetshis trouble, and hath turned to perform thelaw of the gods with a 11 dyg r1 tes , in perfectness of loyal worship.

ironically, Ajax wil l "perform the law of the gods", but

8 Ibid. , vv. 708-712.



Then once again, in answer to divine Athena-• • • "Queen, stand thou beside the otherGreeks; where Aj!f stands, batt le will neverbreak our l ine."

At the very end of the messenger's announcement Tecmessa

53

enters and hears from the l ips of the same messenger that th is

going forth of Ajax means his death! She orders everyone to go

in search of her master, and she herself sets out to find him.

The chorus to·o joins in the search; a l l leave the stage.

The scene now shifts to a lonely spot on the seashore. Ajax

is seen standing at one side. He has fixed Hector's sword, his

famous prize of war, in the ground point up, and he begins to

speak to i t . He prays to Zeus to send a messenger to Teuoer that

his brother may take charge of his body beforeit is

cast out un

buried to the dogs and birds. He cal ls on Hermes to guide him to

the nether world; he prays the Furies for vengeance, an awful ven

geance against Agamemnon and Menelaus. Again his hatred for thes

two is pointing to some further disaster; Ajax has even expressed

here his fear of lying unburied on the shore. He entreats the Suto announce his death to his aged parents, bids farewell to coun-

try and friends, and throws himself upon the sword. This is Ajax

submission to the will of the deities, due reparation for his

pride and haughtiness1

21 Ibid. vv. ?74-775.



58

explains that Teucer has defied his authority and declared that

he would bury the dead Ajax. Odysseus advises Agamemnon to per-

mit the burial , for by th is act he would be conforming his wil l

to the just law of Heaven.

I t were not just , then, that he should sufferdishonor at thy hand; ' t i s not he, ' t i s thelaw of Heaven that thou wouldst hurt. Whena brave man is dead, ' t i s not r ight to do himscathe--no, not even i f thou hate him.26

Again that constantly recurring note of conflict between Ajax, no

dead, and "the law of heaven" is apparent. The death of Ajax, as

Tecmessa uttered, "concerned the gods," not the selfish and ada-

mant sons of Atreus. I t is true that Ajax had reviled Agamemnon

and Menelaus, but he had paid his penalty in suffering both insan

i ty and death; the two Greek leaders no longer had any power over

him. The wrangling over the burial decree £.2.!.! make sense; i t

completes the dramatic situation, the dramatic action; i t is

another phase of the play wherein the gods, acting in the person

of human agents, accomplish the i r designs for Ajax.

Agamemnon finally yields, though sullenly, to the warnings

of Odysseus. Teucer is afraid, however, that the presence of

Odysseus a t the burial might be offensive to the dead, since

26 Ibid. , vv. 1342-1345.-



APPROVAL SHEET

The thesis submitted by Edward Eugene Cincoski

has been read. and approved by three members of the

Department of Classics.

The final copies have been examined by the director

of the thesis and the signature which appears below verifies

the feet that eny n e c ~ B s 3 r y cha;nees have b e ~ n :tncorJ?orA.tad,

and that the thesis is now given f inal approval with refer-

ence to content, form, and mechanical accuracy.

The thesis is therefore accepted in partial fulfillment

of the requirements for the Degree of Master of Arts.

dramatic unity in the ajax of sophocles

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