Agamemnon : Two Excerpts

I

(Opening Sequence.)

Night.
Mykenê, in Argos.
Outside the royal palace.
A WATCHMAN sits on the palace roof.
GUARDS stand below.

WATCHMAN:
Gods, I pray for an end,
        an end to my pain,
        an end to my yearlong watch!
I crouch here,
        dog-like,
            on the roof of the palace
                of Atreus' sons,
        and know by heart
        the gatherings of the stars,
            those glittering lords,
            dazzling in the firmament,
        that bring us winter and summer.
I know them all,
        their comings and their goings.

I search even now
        for a gleam, a beacon flash
          in the dismal vault,
news from Troy that the city
                    has fallen.
Mykenê's queen, my mistress
        Klytaimnêstra,
        who rules here now
with the confidence and the hard
    will of a man—
how she waits for that word!

At night
    when I wander the roof
    to ease my pain,
    my boredom,
      restlessly, endlessly,
or lie down on my dew-drenched bed,
    no dreams come.
But Fear is there,
    never leaving,
    never relenting,
      a cruel guard against flagging eyes,
        insidious sleep.

And so I whistle, I hum,
    to guard against sleep,
I moan, I sigh with the thought
    of how once this house
        was blessed by the gods,
    but now is cursed.

Gods, let it come,
    the end,
    let it come,
    the end to my pain,
      let the good news come!
Break through the dark!
A beacon in the dismal night!

(A distant pinpoint of light cuts through the dark.)

A light!
    A light!
            There in the dark!
        A light in the sky!
        A beacon in the night!
Blessèd, blessèd light!
    Holy, blessèd light!
        Beam of day,
        beacon of hope,
            bringing dawn to Argos!
Argos will thank you with
    dancing for your blessing!

IOOOO! IOOOO!

(To the GUARDS below.)

The sign has come!
    The beacon!
      Run! Tell her!
        Agamemnon's wife!
The sign she's waited for!
    Wake her from sleep!
      Let her dance through the palace!
        Shout for joy,
        shouts of jubilation,
        for the beacon is here,
    flaming in the night!
Tell her come greet the flame!
                Troy has fallen!

(The GUARDS hurry into the palace.)

If only it's true.
O I pray to the gods it's true,
    this flame,
    and Troy is taken,
            for then
I'll dance and sing,
    for my master's throw
    will have been lucky and I'll
      turn it to my own good,
for this flame has thrown me triple sixes!

If only he were here now,
            my master, Agamemnon,
    and I could hold his dear hand in mine.
But I'll say no more.
    "An ox sits on my tongue,"
      as the adage has it.
O if these walls had a voice,
    what tales they could tell.
      As for me,
I speak to those who know,
      you know?
To those who don't,
      I don't.

(Exit the WATCHMAN through the palace roof.)

II

(The central doors open and enter SLAVES with the corpses of AGAMEMNON and KASSANDRA which they toss to the ground. KLYTAIMNÊSTRA enters close behind and stands triumphantly above them with bloodied sword.)

KLYTAIMNÊSTRA:

Words.
Many.
            Many, many words have I
        spoken, words to suit the
    moment, cautious
        words, but here's an
                end,
an end without
        shame.

I've paid my debt.
Blood with blood.
Hate with hate.
    How else could I have
      strung my nets of doom high enough
    to prevent overleaping? How else
have trapped an enemy who pretended loving
                friendship?
And now it's done.
And I have won.
And I stand here where I struck to end the agony
    of my long planning, this ancient
      curse, years-long in the fermenting,
        and he never knew,
    there was no escape, no way
      to ward off death. And I deny
        none of it,
          none.

I catch him then like a fish,
    in a mesh of rich
      webbing, and I strike, I
        strike, strike twice,
          twice...