I enjoy a good story. Today I read about Aeschylus.
He was not only a playwright, but a soldier.Why is it not write? For another time. No, I had to look it up.
Oxford says it comes from an “old fashion” word wright meaning a maker or builder. Must have been the stage presence of theatre that would set wright aside from write or writer. Don’t all writers build something? Kind of like BCE, I am not completely satisfied.
Now where was I? Oh yes, Aeschylus. What I enjoyed about his character is that he liked being a soldier more than he did being a playwright. By measure of theatre going crowds, his plays were popular. By measure of soldering, he was alive.
In any case, he thought well of himself in both endeavors, but especially as a soldier. We know because he wrote his own epitaph.
His ending trumps his successes in life. At least for comic drama. Maybe because he had made a few enemies. At any rate, I read in Benet’s Reader’s Encyclopedia that “according to popular story, an eagle killed Aeschylus when it dropped a tortoise on his head.” Wikipedia adds “by mistaking his head for a rock.”
The story gets better by mention of an oracle that had prophesied Aeschylus would die by a blow from heaven. I wonder if he had heard the prophecy? If he did, I assume he had in mind something more eloquent, but maybe I am projecting.