Page:Ajax (Trevelyan 1919).djvu/49

 For a swift rumour, as from some god, ran

Through the Greek host that thou wast dead and gone.

While yet far off I heard it, and groaned deep

In anguish; now I see, and my life dies.

Ay me!

Uncover. Let me behold woe's very worst.

O ghastly sight! victim of ruthless courage!

What miseries hast thou dying sown for me!

Whither, among what people, shall I go,

Who in thy troubles failed to give thee succour?

Oh doubtless Telamon, thy sire and mine,

With kind and gracious face is like to greet me,

Returned without thee: how else?—he who is wont

Even at good news to smile none the sweeter.

What will he keep back? What taunt not hurl forth

Against the bastard of a spear-won slave,

Him who through craven cowardice betrayed

Thee, beloved Aias—or by guile, that so

I might inherit thy kingdom and thy house.

So will he speak, a passionate man, grown peevish

In old age, quick to wrath without a cause.

Then shall I be cast off, a banished man,

Proclaimed no more a freeman but a slave.

Such is the home that waits me; while at Troy

My foes are many, my well-wishers few.

All this will be my portion through thy death.

Ah me, what shall I do? How draw thee, brother,

From this fell sword, on whose bright murderous point

Thou hast breathed out thy soul? See how at last

Hector, though dead, was fated to destroy thee!

Consider, I pray, the doom of these two men.

Hector, with that same girdle Aias gave him

Was lashed fast to Achilles' chariot rail

And mangled till he had gasped forth his life.

And 'twas from him that Aias had this gift,

The blade by which he perished and lies dead.

Was it not some Erinus forged this sword,