It may be noted that The Fall of Numantia is a deeply revised version of General Audax, printed some thirty years earlier in Volume One of Mandel’s Collected Plays. The author’s translation into French of Agamemnon Triumphant is published by L’Harmattan in Paris under the title Le Triomphe d’Agamemnon. For more information, and to order the book, go to www.editions-harmattan.fr.

From Agamemnon Triumphant.

SCENE ONE

(In Achilles' shelter. An altar in one corner. Night. By a dim light we see Achilles, Patroclus and Briseis. Achilles wears his sword)

BRISEIS. How can I, when I see you so somber, so unlike yourself?
ACHILLES. Sing, I tell you, sing of consolations....
BRISEIS. I'll try, my dear (She sings).

Bridegroom, exult! Just as you prayed,
The rites are done and you are married.
The girl, just as you prayed, is yours—

(She stops)

BRISEIS. I can't sing, Achilles. Tell me what happened. Tell your Briseis, the woman who knows all your secrets. Patroclus, ask him for me.
ACHILLES. Better for you not to know.
PATROCLUS. Tell her, my friend. Let her be warned, let her be prepared....
BRISEIS. Oh God, it's something too terrible....

(Silence)

ACHILLES. They want to steal you from me.
BRISEIS. Why? Why?
ACHILLES. I rose in the Assembly. A newcomer to the siege, but the strongest, with ships and men nearly as many as his, and fresh, rested, eager. I had the right. And I was the only man not cowed by big Agamemnon. Why have the winds been dead for a month and not a sack of barley, not a barrel of wine delivered to the troops? Why are the supply ships rooted in Aulis, unable to set sail? Nobody dared speak up but I. Not Aias, not Diomedes, not even old Nestor—it seems a man is never too old to be afraid to die. Dead silence. And Calchas too, pale as milk. Soothsayers also know when to keep their tongues on a leash. It was the scared look he gave me that maddened me. I cut through the crowd of trembling heroes and took him by the throat—
PATROCLUS. Shook him like an olive tree ripe for harvesting!
ACHILLES. “Dog,” I said, “you are a priest, a seer, a man who reads the guts of sheep and the flight of birds, the gods protect you and yet you daren't tell us what we all know that you know.” And all that time I see Agamemnon stiffen as I speak. “Tell us!” I yell, “tell him!”
PATROCLUS. Not a word!
ACHILLES. So at last it was I who had to say what there was to say. “You, Agamemnon, yes you! Lecher! Worse than your brother and his Helen! You kicked away the high priest of Apollo who came begging you for the daughter you had dragged from the temple like a brawling rapist. And the man cursed you; you and all the Argives. And Apollo heard him. Speak, Calchas, or I'll throttle you!” I pushed him to the tribune. “It's true, my lord,” he brings out at last; “have pity on me”—his knees knocking together. Well, I had shamed one of them at last. Nestor moved his grey-bearded bulk towards his mighty majesty. “Let the girl go, my lord,” he said as low as possible; “send her home to her father, send rich gifts, tripods, golden drinking bowls, beautifully woven cloth for Apollo's altar; and then may the angry god have mercy on us and send the ships a fair Western wind.” Silence again. Agamemnon looked at the crowd and read their faces. And he stared at me when he spoke. “I will do as you say, wise Nestor, for you are my friend. But you, Achilles, rash ill-judging man, latecomer to our war, you have a desirable captive— ”
BRISEIS (moaning). Stop....
ACHILLES. “Who will warm my bed when the other one is gone.”
BRISEIS. You will let him? You, Achilles?
ACHILLES. “You dare!” I cried; and I did touch the pommel of my sword, whereupon I was pelted with cries from all sides. No, Briseis, I shall not let them touch you. But give me time to think. Do we sail home? Or do we beat him down? “Come the next full moon,” he said, “I'll send the priest's daughter home with generous gifts; and then”—giving me a thundering look—“your own darling—“

PATROCLUS (suddenly). Who is out there?

(The tent is flung open. Agamemnon enters with five soldiers)

AGAMEMNON (to the soldiers). Go!

(They seize Briseis and the unarmed Patroclus. Achilles draws his sword. Two soldiers hold him off with spears)

AGAMEMNON. Drop your sword, Achilles, if you care for your friends.
PATROCLUS. Let him kill me, Achilles! Do what you can!
ACHILLES. In good time. (He contemptuously throws his sword to the ground)
AGAMEMNON (to one of the soldiers). Take her to my shelter. The next full moon is too far off, comrade.
BRISEIS. Scum! Achilles will throw you to the dogs!
SOLDIER. Shut your mouth, woman.

(He drags her off sobbing)

ACHILLES. You have her now, Agamemnon. For the moment. But mark my words. Briseis is mine. No slave, but my honored woman and my bride to be when I am home again, and that, I think, will be soon. Dare not, tyrant of Mycenae, approach her nearer than a sword's length. Remember who I am.
AGAMEMNON. Windy talk from a bully. Until I ship the priest's daughter home to him, one night I'll saddle her, and the other your favorite. And if she doesn't suit me, I'll throw her to one of them (pointing to the soldiers).
ACHILLES. You must be drunk, or else some god has stolen your wits. What will you do here without me? Hector laughs at you and your foolish brother. I see not so much as a stone missing from Troy's walls. Without myself, Patroclus, and my Myrmidons, you'll rot here until even the vultures won't want to look at you.
AGAMEMNON. That's as the gods will decide. In the meantime, Achilles, remember that I am the king. Keep your place. Don't bellow in the Assembly because you have more muscle than I, or because your men are fresh and ours are tired. If you have something to say, speak to me in private. (To the soldiers, pointing at Patroclus) Let him go. Patroclus, you're not a hothead like your master. Instruct him in the rules. Rules are not to be violated unless I say so. Farewell. (As he leaves) The commanders meet tomorrow at dawn, Achilles. Be there. We want to give you instructions about the use of your fresh soldiers.
ACHILLES. My fresh soldiers will sit in their tents unless you undo this hour's work and bow low before me into the dust where you belong.
AGAMEMNON. You are wanted, Achilles, but not needed. Stay, leave, do as you please. (To the soldiers) You. Follow me.

(He and the soldiers leave)

PATROCLUS. I was unarmed, Achilles.
ACHILLES. I know.
PATROCLUS. What will you do? Speak to me. Your face is on fire. Remember, we have three thousand men.
ACHILLES. They have five times that number. And I am not a Titan.
PATROCLUS. What are you saying, Achilles? Surely we're not sailing home like frightened minnows! And leaving Briseis to him!
ACHILLES. Calm yourself. Be patient. I may not, must not be as rash as that feeble bully. Our ships are safely anchored at the far end of the line; and we, at any rate, have what's needful to feed ourselves. Beginning tomorrow we shall drill the troops every morning, and after drill the men will roll dice, run races along the beach, sing ballads, and gaze at the Hellenes and Trojans slashing at each other in the distance. We shall allow Agamemnon to bleed until it dawns on him that here, here stands a king above his kingship.
PATROCLUS. In it and yet not in it. You know best.
ACHILLES. I do know best. Go speak to the officers. Reassure them about what happened here. No demoralizing ideas. You understand me.
PATROCLUS. Perfectly.
ACHILLES. And prepare them for active inaction.
PATROCLUS. I will.
ACHILLES. Good night, Patroclus, and thanks.
PATROCLUS. I wish I could have done more. Good night. (He leaves)

(Stillness. Achilles goes to the altar and raises his arms to it until a light begins to glow from it)

ACHILLES (softly). Mother! Goddess! Thetis! Rise from the sea!

(Thetis appears. Achilles kneels to her and embraces her knees. She strokes his head throughout)

THETIS. O my son. I feel the blow, I feel it deep in my undying heart.
ACHILLES. Has Zeus begun to hate me, mother? Would any prayer of mine or yours be made in vain?
THETIS. Not so. Tell me your prayer, that I may wind it in mine.
ACHILLES. You know it already.
THETIS. I do. Speak it aloud, so it becomes a thing and has weight.
ACHILLES. May Agamemnon and all the Argives who stand by him be trampled into the dust by Priam's sons, until he makes amends to me, and more.
THETIS. This I will cry for, until the god of gods satisfies us.
ACHILLES. Do it, mother, since my hatred needs you, do it.
THETIS. I will do it, Achilles my son, weep no more, my child.

(The light dims and she vanishes)