Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Full edits so far

I put all the edits that have been finished into a single document. I have it below and as an attachment on the gmail account

89-90

Poseidon:
I come from the salt depths of the Aegean Sea.
I am Poseidon. Troy and its people were my city.
That ring of walls and towers I and Apollo built –
Squared every stone in it; and my affection has not faded.
Now Troy lies dead under the conquering Argive spear,
Stripped, stacked, and smouldering.

To Athene’s plan that horse pregnant with armed men,
Called by all future ages the Wooden Horse, and sent it
To glide, weighty with hidden death, through the Trojan walls.
The sacred groves are deserted; the temples run with blood;
On Zeus the Protector’s altar-steps Priam lies dead.
Measureless gold and all the loot of Troy goes down
To the Greek ships; and now they wait for a following wind
To make glad, after ten long years, with the sight of their
Wives and children.
The men who sailed from Greece to attack and destroy this town.

Scamandros echoes with endless cries of captured women
Assigned by lottery as slaves to various Greeks.
With them, justly held as a prisoner, is Spartan Helen.
Here by the door, this pitiable prostrate figure, drowned in tears
For a world of sorrows is Hecabe. She does not know
That her daughter Polyxena died just now most pitiably,
An offering slaughtered at Achilles’ grave. Her husband, Priam,
Is dead, so are her sons. Her daughter the prophetess,
Cassandra, whom Apollo himself left virgin – she
Will be taken by force, in contempt of the god and all pious
feeling by King Agamemnon as his concubine.
Farewell, then, city!
Superb masonry, farewell! You had your day of glory.
You would stand firm yet, were it not for Athene, daughter
of Zeus.

100-108

Cassandra:
pg. 101 "To the ritual blessing
Of the Wedded Virgin!
CUT Dancers, come!
. . . . . . . . .
Hymen, mighty god,
Hymen, hear!"

pg. 101 and 102
Chorus: "Control Her--or she'll go dancing down to the Greek
camp!
Hecabe: CUT Hephaestus! In our
. . . . . . .
Of all that I once hoped for."

Cassandra:
pg. 103
"Or siege from their town walls? No!
CUT When a man was
. . . . . . . . . .
A tongue turned to the holy muse of prophecy."

Talthybius
pg. 104
"Were it not that Apollo has unhinged your mind
CUT Your ill-conceived words,
. . . . . . . . .
Can prove itself no wiser than a common clown!"

Cassandra:
ps. 104
"servant! you hear this servant?
CUT He's a herald. What are heralds, then, but creatures universally loathed-
Lackeys and menials and governments and kings?"
105
"Garlands of a god belov'd, dear ritual vestments, now farewell!
CUT Go, his gifts, with the
. . . . . . . . .
Come as one of three Avengers
KEEP Mother, no more tears, farewell!
CUT O my brothers, deep in this dear earth Troy, my father too
Priam, you whose blood we all inherit! You will not be long
Waiting for me."

Hecabe
pg. 106
"Yesterday's and tomorrow's pain. O gods!
CUT The gods, I know
. . . . . . . . . . .
THis tale will edge the piteousness of present grief."

farther down on 106--i'm unsure if we should cut this or keep this...any ideas?
"In my old age shall go to Hellas as a slave.
CUT They will lay on me tasks to
. . . . . . . . . .
to match my skin and mock
My royalty."

Chorus
pg. 107
"To the Daughter of Zeus, Pallas, Lady of Troy!
CUT Then what girl would stay behind?
When even the old men left their chairs
And with the laughing and singing all laid hold
Of that hiden death that had marked them down."

pg. 108
"Where the slaughter of Troy began
CUT Over their happy weariness
. . . . . . . . .
Flickered on sleeping faces its dim gleam of fire."

farther down on 108
"And war went forth.
CUT from his secret lair
. . . . . . . .
Defenceless rolled from the severed neck."
111-115

1) Andromache on Page 111-112:
-I took out a section starting with the sentence starting "First, since a woman...." up untill, and including the sentence "When I was taken, Achilles' son Asked for me as his wife."
-I took out a section starting with sentence "And yet they say..." up untill, and including, the sentence ending "..wanting both voice and rational discourse."
-I took out a section starting with sentence "Hecabe, you weep for dead Polyxena..." untill the end of that speaking part.
2) Hecabe on Page 112-113:
-I took out a section from the start of her speaking part up untill, and including, the sentence ending "...and leave me speechless with dispair."
-I took out a section starting with the sentence "Word grows from word...." untill the end of that speaking part.
3) Talthybius on Page 114:
-I took out a section starting with sentence "You have no possible source of help.." up untill and including sentence ending "...or likely to cause resentment."
4) Andromache on Page 114-115:
-I took out a section starting with sentence "You tug my dress...." up untill, and including, sentence ending "...no charge of Phrygian fighters."
-I took out a section starting with sentence "O the sweet smell of your skin..." up untill, and including, sentence ending with "...and put your lips to mine."

119-124

P.119
-Hecabe “so potent…suffered know.”

P.122
-Hecabe “Both Castor…the stars”

P. 123
-Chorus “Punish your…your enemies”

P.124
-Menelaus “but at…than before”

126-127

Talthybius (126-127)
Hecabe,
Neoptolemus himself has gone; disturbing news
Reached him that Peleus, his grandfather, had been driven
Out of the country by Acastus, Peleas' son.
He at once set sail, and took with him Andromache.
She called on Hector's grave.
She implored Neoptolemus that this child, your grandson,
Who was flung from the city walls and gave up his life,
Might recieve burial.
So now, as soon as you have made him ready, we
Will wrap him in a mound of earth and then hoist sail;
I bathed him in the running stream
And cleaned his wounds. I am going now to break the ground
For a grave. If only you and I both do our best
To waste no time, we'll soon be under way for home.

128-9
Hecabe

Bring the great rounded shield of Hector; lay it here
A sight which should be welcome, but now stabs my eyes.
You achaeans are fine fighters; but where is your pride?
Did you so dread this young boy that you must invent
A new death for him?
If you had fallen in battle for your city,
You would be blessed. But, though you saw and recognized
This wealthy of life which was your heritage,
You had no use of it.
Now through the shattered skull the blood smile,
tempting me
To unseemigly words, Your little hands, how like your fathers!
You made me a promise once,
'Grandmother when you die I will cut off
A long curl of my hair for you, and bring my friends
With me to grace your tomb with gifts and holy words'.
You broke your promise
I, an old, homeless, childless woman, bury you.
Now, though you lose your father's heritage, you shall have
His broad, bronze-fronted shield to make your earthy bed.
(to the chorus) Come, bring whatever robes our
poverty can find
To drape his body, Rigorous Fate does not allow
The handsome gift; from what I have, these shall be
yours.
Those forces which
Control our fortunes are as unpredictable
As capering idiots. Happiness does not exist.

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