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Rh All that I knew of all that he had done.

And he forthwith cried out a bitter cry,

Such as till now I never heard from him;

For ever did he hold such loud lament,

Sure sign of one with coward heart and base;

And holding back from shrill and wailing cries,

Would groan with deep, low muttering, like a bull:

But now, thus fallen on an evil chance,

Tasting nor food, nor drink, among the herds

Slain with the sword, he sits in silent calm,

And looks like one on some dire mischief bent.

Such are the words he utters, such his grief.]

But ye, my friends, (for therefore came I forth,)

Come in, and give us help, if help ye can,

For men like him still yield to words of friends.

Chor. Dread things, Tecmessa, old Teleutas' child,

Thou tell'st us, that our chief is mad with woe.

Aias. [Within the tent.] Woe, woe is me!

Tec. Yet more, 'twould seem; or heard ye not the cry

Which Aias just now uttered?

Aias. [Within.] Woe is me!

Chor. Our chief, it seems, is either frenzied now,

Or grieving o'er the frenzies of the past.

Aias. [Within.] My son, my son!

Tec. Ah wretched me! he calls, Eurysakes,

For thee. What means he? Where art thou? Ah me!

Aias. [Within.] I call for Teucros. Will he evermore

Go forth to spoil while I am perishing?

Chor. He now seems calm enough. But ope the door;

Perchance some sense of shame may come on him,

Seeing even me.

Tec. [Throwing the tent door open, and disclosing

sitting with carcases of sheep and oxen

round him.] Behold I open it,