Page:Tragedies of Sophocles (Jebb 1917).djvu/190

178 Ho, thou who art binding with cords the back-bent arms of thy captives, I call thee, come hither! Ajax, what ho! come forth from the house!

. What dost thou, Athena? Never call him forth.

. Hold thy peace! Do not earn the name of coward!

. Forbear, I pray thee; be content that he stay within.

. What is the danger? Was he not a man before?

. Yea, a foeman to thy servant, and still is.

. And to mock at foes—is not that the sweetest mockery?

. Enough for me that he abide within his doors.

. Thou fearest to see a madman in full view?

. No fear had made me shun him, if he were sane.

. Nay, even now, he shall not see thee, though thou art near.

. How so, if he still sees with the same eyes?

. I will darken them, though they are open.

. Well, all is possible when a god contrives.

. Stand silent, then, and stay where thou art.

. I must stay.—Would that I were far from here!

. What ho, Ajax, once again I call thee! is this thy scanty regard for thine ally?