ATH. I turned him backward from his baleful joy, And overswayed him with blind phantasies, To swerve against the flocks and well-watched herd Not yet divided from the public booty. There plunging in he hewed the horned throng, And with him Havoc ranged: while now he thought To kill the Atreidae with hot hand, now this Now that commander, as the fancy grew. I, joining with the tumult of his mind, Flung the wild victim on the fatal net. Anon, this toil being overpast, he draws The living oxen and the panting sheep With cords to his home, not as a horned prey, But as in triumph marshalling his foes: Whom now he tortures in their bonds within. Come, thou shalt see this madness in clear day, And tell to the Argives all I show thee here Only stand firm and shrink not, I will turn His eyes askance, not to distinguish thee, Fear nought--Ho! thou that bindest to thy will The limbs of those thy captives, come thou forth! Aias! advance before thy palace gate! OD. My Queen! what dost thou? Never call him forth. ATH. Hush, hush! Be not so timorous, but endure. OD. Nay, nay! Enough. He is there, and let him bide. ATH. What fear you? Dates his valour from to day? OD. He was and is my valiant enemy. ATH. Then is not laughter sweetest o'er a foe? OD. No more! I care not he should pass abroad. ATH. You flinch from seeing the madman in full view. OD. When sane, I ne'er had flinched before his face. ATH. Well, but even now he shall not know thee near. OD. How, if his eyes be not transformed or lost? ATH. I will confound his sense although he see. OD. Well, nothing is too hard for Deity. ATH. Stand still and keep thy place without a word. OD. I must. Would I were far away from here! ATH. Aias! Again I summon thee. Why pay So scanty heed to her who fights for thee? _Enter_ AIAS _with a bloody scourge._ AIAS. Hail, offspring of the Highest! Pallas, hail! Well hast thou stood by me. Triumphal gold Shall crown thy temple for this lordly prey. ATH. A fair intention! But resolve me this: Hast dyed thy falchion deep in Argive blood? AI. There is my boast; that charge I'll ne'er deny. ATH. Have Atreus' sons felt thy victorious might? AI. They have. No more they'll make a scorn of me! ATH. I take it, then, they are dead. AI. Ay, now they are dead, Let them arise and rob me of mine arms! ATH. Good. Next inform us of Laertes' son; How stands his fortune? Hast thou let him go? AI. The accursed fox! Dost thou inquire of him? ATH. Ay, of Odysseus, thy late adversary. AI. He sits within, dear lady, to my joy, Bound; for I mean him not just yet to die. ATH. What fine advantage wouldst thou first achieve? AI. First, tie him to a pillar of my hall-- ATH. Poor wretch! What torment wilt thou wreak on him? AI. Then stain his back with scourging till he die. ATH. Nay, 'tis too much. Poor caitiff! Not the scourge! AI. Pallas, in all things else have thou thy will, But none shall wrest Odysseus from this doom.