Aias is with me, yea, but crouching low, I 2 Where Heaven-sent madness haunts his overthrow, Beyond my cure or tendance: woful plight! Whom thou, erewhile, to head the impetuous fight, Sent'st forth, thy conquering champion. Now he feeds His spirit on lone paths, and on us brings Deep sorrow; and all his former peerless deeds Of prowess fall like unremembered things From Atreus' loveless brood, this caitiff brace of kings. Ah! when his mother, full of days and bowed II 1 With hoary eld, shall hear his ruined mind, How will she mourn aloud! Not like the warbler of the dale, The bird of piteous wail, But in shrill strains far borne upon the wind, While on the withered breast and thin white hair Falls the resounding blow, the rending of despair. Best hid in death were he whom madness drives II 2 Remediless; if, through his father's race Born to the noblest place Among the war-worn Greeks, he lives By his own light no more, Self-aliened from the self he knew before. Oh, hapless sire, what woe thine ear shall wound! One that of all thy line no life save this hath found. _Enter_ Aias _with a bright sword, and_ Tecmessa, _severally._ AI. What change will never-terminable Time Not heave to light, what hide not from the day? What chance shall win men's marvel? Mightiest oaths Fall frustrate, and the steely-tempered will. Ay, and even mine, that stood so diamond-keen Like iron lately dipped, droops now dis-edged And weakened by this woman, whom to leave A widow with her orphan to my foes, Dulls me with pity. I will go to the baths And meadows near the cliff, and purging there My dark pollution, I will screen my soul From reach of Pallas' grievous wrath. I will find Same place untrodden, and digging of the soil Where none shall see, will bury this my sword, Weapon of hate! for Death and Night to hold Evermore underground. For, since my hand Had this from Hector mine arch-enemy, No kindness have I known from Argive men. So true that saying of the bygone world, 'A foe's gift is no gift, and brings no good.' Well, we will learn of Time. Henceforth I'll bow To heavenly ordinance and give homage due To Atreus' sons. Who rules, must be obeyed. Since nought so fierce and terrible but yields Place to Authority. Wild Winter's snows Make way for bounteous Summer's flowery tread, And Night's sad orb retires for lightsome Day With his white steeds to illumine the glad sky. The furious storm-blast leaves the groaning sea Gently to rest. Yea, the all-subduer Sleep Frees whom he binds, nor holds enchained for aye. And shall not men be taught the temperate will? Yea, for I now know surely that my foe Must be so hated, as being like enough To prove a friend hereafter, and my friend So far shall have mine aid, as one whose love Will not continue ever. Men have found But treacherous harbour in companionship. Our ending, then, is peaceful. Thou, my girl,